"Harry!" Neville tried when he walked into the common room. "Where were you all day?" He asked.
"I was talking to Professor McGonagall." Harry lied it was easy enough.
"Harry?" Ginny cried as she climbed through the portrait hole. "Are you ok?" She asked.
Harry shook himself out of his thoughts when she asked. He sat, curled up in one of the large arm chairs of the common room. He hadn't bothered going back to his lessons, he didn't want to bother either. Fred and George had come in at dinner time, and had taken up one corner of the room doing some work for their shop. Harry had simply sat, staring into space. "Oh. I'm fine Ginny." He muttered.
Ginny dropped her bag and hurried over to him. Fred looked up, setting his quill down. "You sure you're alright mate?"
"Harry you've been really quiet lately." Ginny said softly. "I'm worried about you."
"Please just leave it Ginny. I'm tired, that's all." He told her.
"Don't shut me out..please.."
"I'm not." He snapped. "I'm just not in the mood for talking at the moment. Ok? Can you deal with that for one day?"
"I'm only trying to help." She said slowly.
"You can't."
"Because you won't let me." She pouted slightly.
"Just leave me alone please." He tried to keep his tone polite.
"Harry Luna didn't come to any lessons today. According to one of the girl's in her year she's been crying or something."
"I don't-I don't care about Luna Lovegood." He told her as he stood up.
"Harry, what's wrong?" She leaned closer to hims so that he could smell her hair.
"Ginny move please." He asked.
She put a hand on his chest, but he pushed it away. "Harry.." She said silkily.
He pushed her away and realised he must have pushed her too hard when she stumbled backward. Fred and George were on their feet in seconds. "Calm down!" Fred said, his hands upturned.
"Please move.."
"Don't push Ginny about."
"Move." He begged.
"You can't go talking to Ginny like that." George placed himself between his younger sister and Harry.
Harry pushed past them both and up to the dormitory. He paced up and down, thankfull for the fact it was empty. So many thoughts kept bouncing around his head echoing in his mind. Ron's death, Sirius's death. The curse that left Bellatrix's lips. Hermione's face, Hermione and what she had done. Dumbledore's words of wisdom that never made sense. What he'd said about that prophecy. He kept replaying them in his mind, picking them apart. If only he hadn't believed the lie, if they hadn't gone. He'd led Sirius to his death. He had led Ron to his death. He killed everyone around him. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs and he threw himself onto the bed.
"Harry?" Seamus asked. Dean and Neville were with him. "We're going down for dinner. Are you coming? You missed lunch."
"Not hungry." He told them.
"Ginny's pretty upset about something Harry." Neville's voice came through the curtains that hung around his bed. He closed his eyes. What did the boy think he could do about her being upset? He wanted to say 'and?'. "She's not mad at you though. She says to tell you that."
Harry didn't reply. "We're going now, ok Harry?" Dean called. "We're your mates though. Please don't treat us like idiots."
Harry tried to sleep once the others went down to dinner, but soon changed his mind. Each time he closed his eyes a flash of green light was all he saw. And screaming. He imagined that terrible terrible screaming, a harsh cruel cold laugh. That was all he saw. Finally, when he could hear them all coming back up the stairs to finish homework or head to bed he got up. He grabbed his invisibility cloak, jammed his things into his pockets then picked up his wand from were it had laid carelessly and tossed the cloak over his body.
He walked through the common room, and noticed Ginny was curled up on a chair her eyes puffed. He wanted to tell her she had nothing to shout about, but he knew how cruel it would be. So instead, he looked around and making sure no one was watching, dragged a blanket over her. She opened her eyes slightly, and looked directly through him, then closed them again clutching the blanket. He waited for a few moments, and surely enough two third year boys opened the portrait hole, he climbed through as it swung shut.
Harry wandered the corridors for hours, searching up and down. He felt like he was looking for something. He just didn't know what. He looked down at his watch, realising it was getting closer and closer to midnight. But he felt so alive now. He cared not about how much noise he might make. He didn't care if Filch might see him or hear him. He knocked into a suit or armour sending it clattering to the floor. The noise felt good. He didn't care if a teacher found him. They were patrolling at night now and during the day, along with the dementors. He shuddered at the thought of those dreadful creatures feeding off people's misery.
He walked along corridors he'd never walked along before. Exploring staircases he'd never taken. He finally found himself nearer to Gryffindor tower once more. He supposed he had better go back soon enough, but the Fat Lady was not there.
He slumped down onto the floor, making sure the invisibility cloak was still pulled tightly around him. He wanted to go back to the dormitory now, to find the stash of razorblades he'd managed to sneak in. He wanted to use one, to dig it deep into his skin and to drag it along. His hands itched to do that. He didn't want to plant, he just wanted to do. He watched slowly as one of the ghost's headed by, passing him quickly without a second glance. He held his breath as the Fat Friar did so. It wasn't odd for him to wander far from his own house's dormitories, but he barely ever neared the Gryffindor Tower.
Drawing out his wand, he pointed it at his wrists. "Lacero.." He murmured, drawing the wand back like a knife. He dropped his wand almost instantly.
His skin felt like it was on fire, the wound bled angrily and quickly. He felt a rush as the cut bled, and he repeated it once he managed to grab his wand. Then he cried out. The pain felt good, yet for some reason he could hear sobbing. He could hear screaming. He wanted whoever was making that noise to shut up, they were ruining it for him. If only they would shut up then he could carry on. He clutched his wrist as he bled.
Behind him the portrait hole swung open, and Ginny stumbled out. She had her hair tied back, her eyes were red but now from sleep than anything. Her legs were stiff from falling asleep in an arm chair. "Harry?" She asked. "Lumos." She cast the spell, her wand instantly letting off more light. She saw a leg from unerneath the invisibility cloak and dragged it off him. "Harry!" She begged. She held onto him. "Hold on." She muttered, she kept a foot in the portrait hole. "Neville!" She shrieked. "Fred! George!"
They came running in a matter of seconds. Fred looked exhausted, his face shadowed in darkness. "Ginny, what's wrong?" He asked.
George was kneeling by her side. "Are you ok?" He spotted the blood. "Are you hurt?"
"Harry." She whispered.
"Shit." George swore. Neville lingered behind him. From the other dormitories Gryffindor students were standing by the doors, and running forward to try and see what was going on outside.
"Dean!" Neville called as he grabbed Harry's wrist, holding the robe tight around it. "Get a teacher."
"Now!" George bellowed.
Dean hurried down the corridor. He returned minutes later with Professor McGonagall. Professor Snape came from another direction, Neville remembered it was his night to patrol, and he was probably eager to punish Gryffindors. "I heard screaming Minerva." He told her. "Fifty points from-what the hell happened to Potter?" Snape grabbed Harry's wrist, and his eyes darted to the dropped wand. He looked around. "Get back to bed!"
"Do as Professor Snape says." McGonagall ordered. "To bed now!"
Ginny didn't move. Neither did Neville. "Longbottom, Weasley-" Snape started.
"Stay if you wish Miss Weasley. You too Longbottom." McGonagall swooped down beside Harry. "Potter?" She asked quietly. "Longbottom make yourself useful please felt Madam Pomfrey for me."
"Yes Ma'am." Neville nodded, almost tripping over his own robes before sprinting off.
"Did you do this to yourself?" Snape demanded. He pulled his sleeve up, and eyed the other cuts. He glanced across at McGonagall she nodded without a word.
"Let's get you to the hospital wing." McGonagall told him. She helped him to his feet and put a hand on his shoulder. Partly supporting him, though he felt as if she were trying to restrict his movement. Professor Dumbledore was next to him in an instant, perhaps one of the portraits had awoken him.
"Minerva, I think it best if you could deal with the awoken Gryffindors?" He suggested, taking her place.
"Potter..Harry is in my house." She informed him, almost in disaproval. It was as if she were accusing him of wanting to leave Harry in the presence of Slytherin's head. Dumbledore's hand on Harry's shoulder was almost painful, his nails digging deep into his skin.
"I assure you Harry is in safe hands." He looked at her thoughtfully, acknowledging her motherly instinct. "I believe we have a distraught Miss Weasley, and Mr Longbottom seems quite upset. Perhaps Professor Slughorn could prepare some dreamless sleep?" He asked, before turning. Professor McGonagall realised she had been dismissed. She felt just like she had when he'd dismissed her views years beforehand.
Once term started again, lessons started. Their first lesson on Monday morning was Transfiguration. And of course, that meant as tradition had it they would be working with the Slytherins. Tom sat at the breakfast table, beside a boy who seemingly had attached himself to him. They weren't friends, Tom had made sure he knew this. But he was useful for things like carrying books and doing homework. "Is it true that someone who annoyed you ended up in a loony bin?" Demanded a boy who Tom thought was called Ben.
"Probably." Tom agreed, he smiled slightly.
"So how was your Christmas Molly?" Ben turned to a girl sitting opposite them.
"Great thanks!" She called back. She flicked a stand of blonde hair over her shoulder. "Yours?"
"Alright." He paused. "I got a broomstick!" He turned to Tom. "So how was your Christmas Tom?" He asked. Then bit his tongue, he knew the boy was aggresive about his personal life sometimes.
"It was, nothing special. I stayed at Hogwarts."
"Yeah that Granger girl from your Orphanage did too, didn't she?" Ben said, he turned to stare at the Gryffindor table trying to spot her. "Really pathetic thing isn't she? She's always crying apparently!"
"I would not put it past her." He agreed. He didn't want to agree, he just wanted the boy to stop talking and to leave him alone. Finally a bell sounded indicating it was time they went to their lessons. He took this excuse to leave, and carefully tossed his book bag over his shoulder. He had the essay that Dumbledore had requested written out to twice the correct length.
When he got to the class he took his usual seat, and waited for the arrival of everyone else. The thin Professor with his twinkling eyes started the lesson by taking the register. A rare occurence at Hogwarts. A boy called Biggs took a seat beside him, and then Professor Dumbledore spoke again. "Let's open our books to page sixty four today. Today we will be experimenting!" He paused. "Mr Riddle!" He called. "Won't you be joining us?"
"Yeah." Tom muttered, and opened his book. He wondered what Dumbledore's idea of experimenting was. In the first few months he had learnt that Dumbledore was mad. He was a lunatic, but in a very intelligent way. Or perhaps that was just what he wanted them to think. Assuming he was a silly old man could be very useful to him. Tom reasoned he had better watch him. Even after four months of being in the man's presence he still couldn't understand him.
"Which concludes what we will be doing today!" Dumbledore finished. "So wands out if you please. Please remember that even though you feel ready to Transfigur a chair into a cannon I doubt you are. Which means small steps! No progress is expected, but any result with your matchsticks will be wonderful."
Tom grinned as he approached the front of the class. He'd been practising, it was going to be easy. From the corner of his eye he watched the Granger girl, as she waved her wand. He caught the words she was saying and knew she was faking doing the spell wrong. He frowned trying to think of a reason as to why she would do that. The only one was that she intended for him to underestimate her. In which case he would have to make sure he didn't. He saw her catch his eye, and he looked away.
He whispered the spell and flicked his wand. He hadn't succeeded, so he tried again. This time his matchstick turned a silvery colour. He frowned, and glanced accross at Granger. Her matchstick was now a perfect silver pin. She had her hand in the air, and was waving like a mad person for Dumbledore's attention. He almost snarled at her. Almost. He tried again, this time his pin became metallic. "Professor!" He called. He smirked at Granger as Dumbledore walked over to him. He inspected the pin.
"Very nice Mr Riddle. Five points to Slytherin." He moved slowly but gracefully toward Granger. "But I believe Miss Granger mastered the spell slightly quicker. Ten points to Gryffindor. I especially like the detail on the end." He pointed to a tiny H inscribed on the pin.
As soon as he moved toward another table to give a tip on the wand posture Tom was over by the table, inspecting the pin. "How did you do that?" He hissed.
She shrugged. "If you concentrate more you'd be able to do it. Bring your matchstick here."
Tom didn't hesitate for long as his mind was faster than his mouth. He didn't want to accept help from the likes of her, but he wanted to be able to do what she had done with the pin. He went to fetch his pin, only to find that Dumbledore had turned it back to a matchstick. Granger Transfigured hers back. "You look tired." He commented on her appearance. Grey shadows that were turning red hung under her eyes.
"I am." She agreed. "I can't sleep well, I keep having nightmares."
He bit his bottom lip. He didn't really want to hear about what she was talking about. "Oh." He murmured. "That's nice. How did you do it so easily." He watched as she transfigured it once more. This time the matchstick turned to a golden pin thin and long with the name Tom Riddle engraved into it. "Wow." He murmured. "That's.." He didn't want to compliment her.
"It takes practice." She put her hand on his as he held his wand. "You need to get it just right." She informed him. "Baby steps like Dumbledore said. You don't need to rush."
"A word Miss Lovegood?" Professor McGonagall stopped Luna on her way to Herbology.
"I have Herbology Professor." She informed her. "I need to go there. If I'm late again I will have two weeks of detention."
"You are aware that you have been excused from lessons today?" McGonagall asked.
"Yes Professor. But I have chosen not to be. I will go to my lesson now."
"Miss Lovegood I would like to have a word with you." Professor McGonagall forced a smile. "You can go to your lesson in a moment. Will that be ok?"
Luna shrugged. "I guess." She agreed. She followed the Professor into the empty staff room. Professor McGonagall pushed a mug of tea accross the table to her. "I'll just spill it again." Luna informed her.
Either the Professor didn't hear her, or pretended not to. She didn't look up, instead searched around for a bowl of sugar before passing it to the girl. "Sugar?" She asked.
Luna nodded, and took a sip of the tea. "Thank you." She murmured.
Professor McGonagall clutched her robes around herself as she sat down beside the blonde. She held her tea tightly in her hands, almost afraid she would break the glass in a second. "Are you ok?" She asked.
"I'm fine Professor." She answered calmly.
"That's good. That's very good..are you sure?" She asked again. "Did you manage to sleep at all last night? You look tired." Her voice was weary now.
Luna avoided looking at her in the eye. She sipped her tea trying to enoy it yet it tasted sour. "I'm fine Professor. Really. I slept quite alright last night."
McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Miss Lovegood, Luna, we need to talk." She said softly. Luna nodded in the same soft way. "I want you to realise that you're not in any trouble. Ok? You can speak to me, or any of the Professor's about anything. Ok? None of us will be angry or upset. Ok?" She paused. "It would be Professor Flitwick, however I assured the others you might be more comfortable talking to me. Is that true?" She hesitated again. "Luna you will always be free to share your troubles with me, however unusual you think they are. I will listen and I will try to help in any way I can afterwards."
Her tone was carefree when she answered. "I know that Professor McGonagall. You have always been incredibly kind to me. You and Professor Dumbledore."
"That's good." McGonagall agreed. "I saw something yesterday Luna, something that left me very worried. I saw the cuts on Harry's arms. Those were self inflicted weren't they?" She asked.
Luna nodded and she sighed. "Don't you know that?" Luna enquired. "It appears that everyone in the school knows what happened last night." She paused. "Ginny won't talk to me because of it you see."
"The Dementors do not help any sadness that is felt do they?" She asked to herself.
"No they don't." Luna answered her.
McGonagall sighed again. "Another thing you must understand. You have nothing to do with the way Harry feels. You are obviously his friend, and he is very angry. Please understand this. Harry feels abandoned, he feels very sad. He takes his anger out on you, and that is not right. But you are in no way to blame for his decisions."
"I know that Professor."
"Good." McGonagall agreed. "I am aware that bullying does go on this school. Sadly us teachers can not always prevent it however much we try. I regret this very much. We can not help where we are not aware it is needed." Luna nodded. "Hermione was a very good friend of yours was she not?" Luna nodded. "She was mine too. She made me so very happy. She made Harry happy too, and you?"
"Yes Professor." Luna sighed, swallowing the hot tea too fast and burning her throat. Her fingers trembled slightly.
"She worried about you." The teacher told her. "She saw more than I did. I know you think I'm an old woman. I am now. But I'm not stupid. I see what's going on. If anything happens, between you and Mr Potter, you and any other student I want you to speak to me. I-I am here for you." She paused. "But I also want you to forget what Harry said to you."
"What do you mean?" Luna asked.
"I heard him Luna. He's only angry. But that does not justify his words." McGonagall told her.
Luna frowned. The Professor was so patronising. It was annoying her. She just wanted to curl up and sleep. The teacher was frustraing her. "You mean what he said about me not doing anything right?" She looked at McGonagall with the innocence of a child. "That I am a stupid freak Professor? Oh that's nothing new. I have been called that before. Or that I should slit my wrists?"
"Luna, he did not mean that. He meant none of it. We are all different, and life would be dreadful were we not."
Luna shook her head. "Professor if you would excuse me I feel ill."
McGonagall made to say something but then changed her mind. "I think it best if you were excused from the rest of todays lessons. I will have someone bring lunch to the common room for you. There are only a couple of lessons left after all."
Luna nodded. "Thank you Professor."
"Before you go Miss Lovegood, please take to heart what I have said. Anything that troubles you, please report it to me or one of your other Professor's immediately. Harming yourself is not the answer to this."
Luna considered what the Professor had said as she walked from the room. She headed for the Common room. She had to explain to a Prefect on her way there, but he finally accepted she had permission and let her pass. She slumped in a chair in their common room and curled up. She bit her lip and refused to let tears come. Then she shook her head, she might as well cry. She hadn't cried for such a long time. It was something she just didn't do. Of course she had yesterday, but that hadn't felt real. She wanted to feel the tears.
She hadn't cried when her Mother died. Of course it had upset her. But she hadn't been able to cry. Her Dad had cried. He had cried, sobbed over her Mother's body. But Luna had simply held his hand, staring down. She had not cried. But when Harry insulted her she cried. She realised that this made her a freak. But she was glad, for she accepted it. She wanted to know why it took her so long to realise it. She had been born a freak. A stupid ugly freak, and Harry had simply reminded her of it. She wondered how he had put up with her for so long. She fumbled about in her bag, and found what she was looking for. Her Potion's knife. She hadn't used it for a while and it was very clean. She pulled up her sleeve, finding a piece of pale skin and pushed the knife deep into it, dragging it across.
The blood pooled and spilled down her arm. She let the sleeve drop and threw the knife back into the bag before finding her wand. She made a small dressing, placing it onto the cut. She felt proud for being able to look after herself. She felt bad then, for that made no sense. As the blood stained the dressing she fastened it in place and let the sleeve drop once more. She didn't feel relieved, or happier. It had done nothing. She shook her head as she curled up dragging her robes more around her. She didn't understand now. It made no sense any more.
