Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter world. No, I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other characters, surprising though that may be. JK Rowling owns the characters – I'm simply expanding on what she provides.

Summary: Harry is given a diary by Dumbledore and, when he writes in it, he receives an unexpected response. His correspondent learns of Harry's less-than-suitable living conditions and an unlikely bond is formed. Abused!Harry, DrugAddict!Harry.

Warnings: Swearing, drug abuse, reference to child abuse, slight reference to sexual abuse/rape in later chapters.


A/N: Do I end it here? Or do I continue? What do you think? Let me know in your review - shall I continue this story or end it here and start the sequel?


...Harry was floored. He could barely get his mind to work. Nobody had ever defended him like that. No adults had, anyway. He barely noticed as they stood and Snape directed him into the floo again, stumbling to his knees as he returned to the potions master's quarters.


August 31st – 11:48pm

Why did he give them to us? These diaries? What does he stand to gain?

I do not know. I have been thinking about that myself.

Do you think he knows they're linked?

Yes, I do. You usually purchase, or are given, twin diaries in a set. It would be an exceptional coincidence for one wizard to, by chance, acquire a pair without having actively searched for the second one.

When did you receive yours?

Quite a number of years ago. I do not keep a diary, so had never used it. The headmaster never mentioned that my diary had a twin. You only received yours recently, correct?

Yes. Just before I left Hogwarts for the summer. He also did not mention a twin to me. Do you think he has forgotten?

I doubt it. He may be old, but his memory is generally perfect.

Could he have a third one? And be spying on us?

I suppose it's possible, though unlikely. He wouldn't keep up pretences if he knew how you truly felt about him, which you've written in here often enough.

Mmmm, that's true. I just don't understand…

Nor do I, yet. But I do intend to find out.


Nightmares plagued Harry's dreams that night. Every time he closed his eyes, his subconscious had him sweating and thrashing in his bed until he woke, his breathing heavy and bile rising in his throat. After several fruitless hours, the young wizard gave up. He sat beside his charmed window instead and watched the enchanted night sky, trying to shake the images from his head.

His memories hadn't all returned yet. He knew that. He wondered if they ever would. If he'd ever let them. They seemed to hit him when his emotions were running high. Or when his mental barriers were low. He would need to be careful, the last thing he wanted was to be hit by one in front of anyone. Merlin, that would be fucking awful. He'd have to keep his mind clear and stay in control of his emotions. He couldn't have anyone finding out.


September 1st - 4:57am

Sir?

Yes, Mr. Potter?

Does this continue?

Does what continue?

You know what I mean. Don't be a fucking idiot.

I think you need to sleep, Mr. Potter. Maybe you'll be in better humour, then.

Fuck off. I'm not a child.

Well, you are behaving like one.

Just tell me.

If you wish to write, you may.

And you will reply?

If you wish.

Sir?

Yes, Mr. Potter?

Thank you.

What for?

Everything.

You're welcome, Harry.


Harry was quiet all day. Barely eating, again, he curled up with a book, oblivious to the world around him. He felt like time was moving too fast. He wasn't ready for this. He wasn't ready to face the Hogwarts world, again. Not yet.

Snape watched him carefully, but did not force the boy to eat, or to converse. He knew - he could feel the apprehension rolling off Harry in waves. It didn't take a genius, or a spy, to figure out what was bothering the boy. So, he kept an eye on him, but didn't push him. Today was hardly the day for that. Could you imagine? A temper tantrum and a flashback just before the other students arrived? No, today was definitely not the day for that. It would be trying enough.

If only he'd known earlier. He could have had more time to help the troubled teen. He was still healing. From the drugs, from the self harm, from the abuse. A month or two wasn't long enough. If only he'd known earlier. He should have noticed. They all should have.


"Are you ready?" Dark eyes looked the young Gryffindor up and down critically. Still too thin, he thought to himself idly.

Harry wasn't ready. He wasn't even close to ready. But what was the alternative? There wasn't one. Imagine the uproar if he didn't return to school. It'd be like the fucking apocalypse. Actually, it was a scary thought that his absence could actually cause such a thing. He squared his shoulders and nodded jerkily. Ready as he'd ever be.

Snape raised one eyebrow, clearly he could see through the teen's front, but refrained from commenting. The boy needed to pull together his Gryffindor bravery today. He wondered whether Harry was planning to tell his friends the truth, or whether he would continue on as if nothing had changed. That wasn't up to him, that was up to the teen. And if he wanted to tell them everything, he certainly wasn't going to stand in Harry's way. Though he was hardly going to tolerate the boy's Gryffindor friends any more than usual!

The two wizards began the journey to the station in silence. Both lost in their own thoughts.

Harry's mind was reeling. How was he going to keep up this façade for the school year? He felt like a fucking mess. Like his entire world had been turned upside down. In some ways, it had. He couldn't believe the summer he'd had. Would he tell his friends? Could he? As they neared the station, and neared the other students, the teen felt his fear rising, bubbling up in his throat. He wanted to turn around and walk, or run, straight back into the castle. He shook himself mentally. He wasn't this fucking weak. He'd survived his uncle's torture for years and nobody had noticed. He could face up to his fucking friends. God dammit.

Snape watched his young charge closely out of the corner of his eye, trying to gauge his thoughts and feelings, trying to decide whether the boy could actually handle this. He knew the abuse wasn't a recent thing, he knew that it'd been going on for years, now. However, it seemed that this year, this return to Hogwarts from summer break, would be different. This time, someone knew. Things were different.

Snape watched the students exit the train. He watched them surge forwards, en mass, and quickly fixed a sneer onto his sharp features. Did they get more annoying with every passing year?

Black eyes met stormy grey. Snape nodded to his godson briefly before turning his dark gaze back to the Gryffindor, watching as the boy sought out his two closest friends. Two people who spent nearly every waking moment with Harry, yet they still didn't know the truth. Were they stupid? No. He hadn't seen it either. How could they all have been so blind? He kept his eyes trained on the trio as Harry's mask slid easily into place. Ah, that's how. The boy was a consummate actor.

Harry grinned broadly at his friends, excitement and happiness shining from his green eyes. He brought his mental shields up and cleared his mind, he could do this. They wouldn't notice how thin he was, how tired he was, they never did. And he had returned after summer in far worse condition. He held back a flinch as Hermione hugged him tightly, fighting his instinctual urge to push her away.

And so another year at Hogwarts begins.


Continue into the Hogwarts year? Or end and start a sequel? Tell me what you think.