A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry for the long wait, but I've been getting myself situated back at school, so updates should come more regularly.
Harry heard Draco sending off his letter, but kept his eyes closed. He was focused on the pain in his face. It definitely wasn't the worst he'd had, but that didn't really make dealing with it any easier. There was also the hot, swooping sensation of shame he felt at the fact that Malfoy had witnessed everything that had happened. He wondered how long it would be before the knowledge that the famous Harry Potter couldn't even stand up to a muggle spread throughout the school...
Harry heard Malfoy sit down heavily on the bed. Unclenching his hand, Harry pushed the crumpled paper towels onto his desk. He had mopped up most of the blood.
"Did that help?" Draco asked, his voice a little more even now.
Harry opened his eyes, staring at the boy on the bed across from him. Draco looked slightly ill, and he was even paler than normal.
"Yeah," Harry finally said. "A bit."
The boys sat in silence for a while. They didn't really need to speak; both had witnessed something that was beyond words. The silence was only broken by the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. Both boys tensed, but Harry recognized that the footsteps were too light to be his uncle's.
Aunt Petunia opened the door and scowled at both boys. Dully, Harry wondered if she was here to yell at him, but noticed that she was carrying a tray of food. She set it down on the desk hard enough to make the plate rattle.
"I don't know why you insist on provoking Vernon like that," said Aunt Petunia stiffly as she was setting the tray down.
"Are you kidding me?" Harry asked. He couldn't find it in himself right now to ignore her words, or to agree to them.
Aunt Petunia didn't say anything; perhaps the sight of Harry's marked face, or the crumpled, bloodstained paper towels, stopped her. She left the room, locking the door behind her.
Harry looked with disinterest at the food. Despite all the work he'd done today, his appetite was gone.
"You should try to eat something," Draco said softly. He was worried about Harry, especially the way he was looking now. His eyes were cold and flat, and the way he had spoken to his aunt was a bit scary. Malfoy had generally seen Harry control himself. Even if he got mad at his relatives (which he often did), Harry had basically kept himself together. Sure, he had been angry, and hurt, and depressed, but he hadn't lost himself. Some things were harder for him to deal with than others, but he was still the same Harry that Draco knew at school. The stupid Gryffindor. But right now, Draco wasn't sure what had happened to that boy.
"I'm not hungry," Harry said, not looking at Draco. "You eat it."
Harry pushed himself out of his chair suddenly, an unpleasant scraping sound ringing through the air. He walked to the window, keeping his back toward Draco. Draco watched him uneasily.
Harry looked out at the darkness of Little Whinging. The neighborhood was calm, the air completely still. Harry thought about his life here. His childhood had seemed to last for eternity when he was living it. He had had to fight for everything: to stay away from Dudley and his gang, and from his Uncle's blows, for scraps of food, to maintain his sense of self amid people trying to squash it out of him. He had done that all his life, and he tried to keep doing it, but sometimes things got too hard. Sometimes he wanted to give up. Not to have to fight for safety from his relatives or for food, or even not to let his experiences harden him. Sometimes it was hard to be Harry. He thought briefly of Snape, of all his sneering insults about his Gryffindor stupidity. Maybe Snape was right. If only he weren't so weak. He let his relatives push him around, and after all these years, he still let it get to him. As much as he hated to admit it, it affected him. Why did he always have to feel everything? Harry dug his nails into his palms, trying to push these thoughts away. He willed himself to feel nothing. To be empty.
"Potter..." Draco began.
"Just shut up, alright?" Harry said, spinning around to face Malfoy. "Don't act like you suddenly care about me. You've always hated me just as much as they do."
Draco felt like Harry had slapped him, but he couldn't deny the truth in his words. Draco had always treated Harry terribly.
"I-" began Draco, unsure what he was going to say.
Harry cut him off. "Leave me alone." His tone was harsh, and Draco didn't dare to say anything back.
Draco watched, uneasy, as Harry turned around again, resolutely ignoring him. After a while, he lay down on the floor. Draco sat on the bed long after Harry had gone to bed, thoughts racing through his mind. His last thought, before he finally fell asleep, was that maybe Severus could help them.
0000
Draco woke up early the next morning after a night of very little sleep. He tried going back to bed, but it was no use. Rolling over on his side, he thought about last night's events once again. The knot in his stomach seemed to twist, and he ran his hands through his hair a few times. Glancing down, he saw Potter lying on his back, deep breaths reflected in the rise and fall of his chest. At least he's asleep, Draco thought. He was glad. Potter got far too little sleep, especially with the amount of work he had to do. Draco winced when he noticed the dark, ugly black eye marring Potter's pale skin.
Potter slept late that morning. Aunt Petunia didn't come to wake him up, and it was nearly eleven before he stirred. With a yawn, Harry sat up, looking around the room sleepily. His hair was sticking up in dozens of different directions and his glasses had slipped off somewhere. Feeling around on the floor for them, he picked them up and put them back on. Draco, who had been sitting at the desk, turned around to look at him. His face was lined with apprehension.
"Morning," said Harry.
"It's almost afternoon," said Malfoy. Harry thought it might've been a joke.
With a flush of embarrassment, Harry remembered last night's events. He wasn't sure if he was more embarrassed by the fact that Malfoy had seen everything, or for the way that he had treated him afterwards.
"Uh, listen," Harry began awkwardly. "I'm- sorry about last night." He muttered the last words quickly, looking down at his hands. They were clenching his sheets a little tighter than necessary.
"You had a right to be upset," said Draco evenly.
"Yeah," Harry said finally. "I guess I did."
Draco only nodded in response. It seemed like Potter was back to his old self. I never would've thought I'd be glad about that, Draco thought. He looked closer at Harry. His black eye was dark and ugly, but he did seem to look a bit better otherwise after a long night of sleep.
"We're locked in again, then?"
"Yeah," said Draco, although he tried to keep his voice free of any accusation or anger. He wasn't going to get mad at Harry this time.
Harry sighed in response. After a few minutes, he spoke. "I always hated when they locked me up. When I was younger, I mean."
Draco was surprised. It wasn't like Harry to talk about his life with the Dursleys. Mostly, he had just brushed away Draco's concern, normalizing everything.
"Did they do it often?"
Nodding, Harry said, "Yeah. They used to - " Harry broke off, looking at Malfoy suddenly. He realized who he was talking to.
"Nevermind," Harry muttered, face flushing with embarrassment again. What was he thinking? This was Malfoy he was talking to. At best, he probably didn't care, and at worst he'd tell all his Slytherin friends about Harry's pathetic life.
"They used to what?" Draco asked. He could sense Potter's reluctance. It was probably warranted, considering their past, but Draco found himself wanting to know more about Harry's life. He wasn't entirely sure why, but he felt like something had shifted. Looking at the bruised boy sitting on the ground before him, he felt an urge to protect him from the cruelty he was surrounded with. He also wanted to understand him. Which was an odd thought for Draco, who, for most of his life, had been completely absorbed with his own life and troubles. It wasn't like he had ever had a real friend before, someone he cared about for who they were, not what they could do for him. Although he didn't realize it, Draco was beginning to see Harry as something of a friend.
"You don't care," Harry said with a short laugh.
"I do."
Harry was caught off guard. It would've confirmed his thoughts if Malfoy had laughed at him, or offered up some jeering insult. This was new. It was like something Ron or Hermione would say; well, not that he talked to Ron or Hermione about the Dursleys, but still. Harry couldn't do anything but stare at Malfoy in disbelief.
"I'm not going to tell anyone, Potter," said Draco with a sigh, correctly guessing that it was something Harry was thinking. "It's not like I'd admit I've stayed with muggles, among other things." He idly flipped a page in his Potions book as he said this, not looking at Harry.
Harry thought that over. Normally, he would've dismissed Malfoy immediately. But he was in an odd mood today. Sometimes he got in these moods where he just wanted to talk about what was bothering him instead of bottling it all up like he usually did. Sometimes he talked to Hedwig, but he couldn't start talking to an owl with Draco in the room.
"It's just- they've always locked me away, you know" Harry muttered, looking at his hands. "It seemed worse to me than getting hit, sometimes." Harry lifted his head, gazing at Hedwig nestled in her cage. He could almost pretend he was just talking to her.
"I can see that," Draco said. He could understand where Harry was coming from. When he was younger, he only wanted to please his father, even when it seemed impossible. It often felt like Lucius would only love Draco if Draco did certain things or acted a certain way, and that had stung.
"Yeah?" Harry asked, glancing at Draco quickly and then glancing away.
"Yeah," said Draco. Then, after a few minutes, "It wasn't right of them, you know."
"I know," Harry said quietly.
The boys lapsed into a comfortable silence. Both had a lot to think about.
000
Severus was running late. He had made a trip to Diagon Alley to pick up some supplies, and to check at Flourish and Blotts to see if the Potions textbooks he had ordered were in stock yet. The damned shopkeeper was so disorganized; he had had to reorder nearly half of the books he had wanted. It had taken up his whole day, and he was in a foul mood when he returned to the castle that evening.
By the time he was back, a soft rain was pattering against the stone walls of the castle. He lit torches in the walls as he passed them, flicking up his wand impatiently. When he finally reached his quarters, he was ready for a hot cup of tea and a book before bed.
However, Severus was shocked to find the owl that was sitting right outside his door. Owls rarely went down to the dungeons. It was far too cold, and there were barely any surfaces for them to perch on. Besides, Hogwarts owls were trained to deliver their mail in the great hall. Unease snaked its way through Severus as he stared at the owl.
Seeing Snape, the owl immediately fluttered up to him, impatiently imploring him to take Draco's letter. Severus quickly untied the scroll and opened the letter, his eyes flashing across the page.
S,
You're right. Things are bad here. P's relatives are awful; they've starved him, made him slave away all day, and even hit him. I'm worried about what's going to happen. I think things are getting worse.
D
Snape nearly crushed the letter in his fist, mind racing. Severus didn't know what to think about Draco's claims; he had always assumed that Potter's relatives treated him like royalty, catering to his every whim. But after what he had from McGonagall, he couldn't be sure about that. Draco was worried enough to tell him this, and that meant something. Even if he was exaggerating, or if Potter had made him write that, there was no way Severus could chance it. His godson's safety was his responsibility.
Mind made up, he retraced his path as quickly as possible. Once he was outside the wards of the castle, he turned on his heel and apparated with a pop. The bag containing his potions supplies was left outside his door. The owl settled down onto it for a moment before taking off for the owlery.
A/N: So, what do you think? Sorry it's a bit of a cliffhanger again, but I felt these moments were important for the character development. The next update should be up soon :) Let me know what you think!