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, reference to sexual abuse/rape in later chapters.
"Detention, Mr. Potter. Perhaps you can brew an adequate skelegrow in your own time, tonight, instead of wasting everyone else's."
Snape drawled silkily in a low, cold voice. He watched as the green-eyed Gryffindor stopped slicing the kava root, threw his knife down unceremoniously at his workstation, and ran his hand through his fringe. It didn't escape his keen eye that the boy's hand lingered over his scar, as if surreptitiously trying to sooth it with his cold palm. His dark gaze flickered over the poorly prepared ingredients. Harry was in no state to be brewing potions. He was a walking accident.
The tall professor spun on his heel and proceeded to berate the rest of the Gryffindors in the class on their substandard potions to keep his mind off the Potter brat.
He dutifully kept his back turned and ignored Parkinson's vicious whisper as she tried to bait the Gryffindors into losing house points.
"Honestly, Potter, I'm not sure how you got into potions this year. My niece can brew better than you, and she's only three."
He could almost picture Harry rolling his emerald eyes at the taunt. If he hadn't been listening for it, he wouldn't have caught the hissed "fuck off" that the boy shot back. He spun again and stalked back over to the two students.
"Twenty points from Gryffindor for foul language, Mr. Potter. And shall we make it two nights of detention?"
The boy had the grace to blush and avert his gaze. "No, sir. Sorry, sir." he mumbled, and turned his attention back to clearing up his workstation.
Once again, the Slytherin professor turned away and focused on preventing any potions explosions from the rest of the class. He knew that the Gryffindor's temper would be particularly short due to the pain in his scar. He would ignore any further bickering, however, unless it escalated to anything.
He kept most of his attention on the class, but did linger in the vicinity of the boy-who-lived to keep an eye and ear on the situation. He didn't want to draw attention to the boy's fight with the pain he was trying to keep hidden.
"It's okay, Pansy, even being Dumbledore's favourite won't get him into NEWT potions next year." Marvellous, Nott was joining in. It was only a matter of time before hexes would begin to fly.
Harry was doing his best to focus on clearing his workstation instead of rising to the bait. He really was. But the pain in his scar was giving him a raging headache, and the mention of the Headmaster made his blood boil. He scowled at the two Slytherins and spat his retort just above a whisper.
"You'd know all about favourites, wouldn't you, Parkinson? The whole school knows you're guaranteed top marks because you get down on your knees in front of Snape every night."
Oops, Harry thought to himself as he saw Snape whirl out of the corner of his eye, and pin him with his darkest glare. He hadn't meant for the professor to hear that. He'd just wanted to get under Parkinson's skin. Riling Nott, who clearly had an interest in Parkinson, was an added bonus.
Before the Slytherin Head of House had a chance to speak, however, Parkinson threw the first hex. And it was on.
Harry narrowly dodged an incurable boils hex and immediately threw up a strong shield that would block an opponent's spells but allow his own offensive spells to pass through. He vaguely saw a curse fly past him and miss Nott's right shoulder by a mere inch. Was that from Ron? Without pausing to check, he angled his wand and began to incant flipendo. He could see Nott preparing to cast a hex of his own. He'd only got half the word out when the entire ceiling began to pour waves of water.
Sufficiently distracted, the students all spun to see their potions master casting an impossibly strong and wordless aguamenti. Squeals of dismay from the girls as their hair was saturated died on their lips as they looked at the enraged Slytherin. He cancelled the spell once all eyes were on him.
"Are you quite done?" Snape's voice was a low, dangerous hiss. Fury glowed in his black eyes as they darted from one student to another.
Harry chanced a quick look around the room. Ron's wand was in his hand, as was Hermione's. In fact, most of the students in the room had their wands drawn. He hadn't realised how many were suddenly involved. Well, that escalated quickly.
Nobody dared to speak.
"You will all receive a zero for your work today. And you will all serve detention with Mr. Filch, tonight."
The former spy absently noticed the collective flinch from his Slytherins at being assigned detention by their incredibly biased Head of House. He paused for a moment before levelling his gaze with the emerald eyes of the Gryffindor he most loved to hate.
"And you, Mr. Potter. Fifty points from Gryffindor for causing a fight. And, after your detention with Mr. Filch tonight, you will serve detention with me each night for the rest of the week. Am. I. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Holy shit Harry! What did you say to Pansy to cause that?" Ron could barely hold in his question until they were all out of the potions classroom.
Harry grinned and shook his head, keeping his eyes downcast. His scar was still burning in pain, but he was doing his best to push the pain from his mind and focus on the present.
"I'll tell you in the common room, Ron, not here."
The group of Gryffindor students rushed up to their tower in a pack, whispering furiously about what had happened in Snape's class. It seemed this latest fiasco had united them once again. None of them were too upset about the points. They lost points in potions if they only breathed the wrong way - losing them for an all in fight was nothing.
"Semper fidelis." Hermione murmured, leading the way through the portrait into their territory. She rounded on Harry, then. Her voice almost reaching shriek-level by the end.
"Honestly, Harry! What were you thinking? I don't know what you said, but it must have been awful for you to get a week of detention. I don't think I've ever seen Professor Snape so angry! How will you have time to do your homework?"
"Shut up, 'Mione. That stupid bint deserved whatever she had coming. Snape is always angry at Harry. I just wish that greasy git let us take the Slytherins on properly. Tell us what you said, Harry!"
Ron couldn't wipe the grin off his face. It was clear that he felt like the old Harry was back. And Harry felt strangely elated by the sense of camaraderie he was receiving from his housemates. He knew it would be short-lived, but he'd enjoy his own good mood it while it lasted.
"I suggested that she earned good marks through the favours she offers Snape. I just didn't think he'd fucking hear me."
There was silence for a moment before the room erupted in laughter. Ron clapped Harry on the back, not noticing the sharp flinch from the green-eyed boy as he did so, barely able to draw breath through his laughter. Neville looked somewhat green and Hermione was biting her lip in an attempt to remain serious and scolding.
The sixth-year Gryffindors rushed into the Great Hall. They were late to dinner. Harry didn't dare glance up at the Head of Slytherin, whose burning gaze he could already feel. He popped a few items on his plate and distracted himself by engaging his friends in conversation.
Ron was sitting to his right, Ginny on his left. Neville sat directly opposite and Hermione was next to him. Harry swallowed a bite of chicken before whispering to Ron.
"Mate, what's going on with you and Hermione?"
Ron didn't bother swallowing his own mouthful before responding in a barely comprehensible whipser.
"I don't know. This year she seems so hot and cold towards me, and the more I try the colder she is."
Harry blinked at him, then smirked, "Maybe you should stop trying, then".
Before Ron could formulate a response, Dumbledore stood and smiled at his students, his blue eyes twinkling madly. The Great Hall hushed immediately.
"As you know, the Halloween Feast is nearly upon us. This year, we will be having a masquerade ball. The Great Hall will be decorated by the house elves in a formal, yet festive, style. I look forward to seeing the entire school body in attendance."
His twinkle dimmed a little, his gaze landing on Harry. The Gryffindor shifted nervously, knowing that he wouldn't be able to avoid attending, despite his best efforts to avoid such occasions every year.
He glanced up at the potions professor, who was wearing an unenthusiastic scowl. He met the piercing black eyes and shrank back a little at their intensity. The older wizard nodded pointedly at Harry's plate, which he was almost halfway through, before his gaze shifted to the Slytherin table. Harry sighed and poked at the roast potatoes in front of him, his stomach turning.
"Oh a ball! I can't wait! What will I wear?" Hermione was in girl-mode almost immediately and leant across to Ginny for some serious fashion discussion.
Harry groaned at the thought retreated from the Great Hall quickly. Ignoring the burning glare from the head table he could practically feel on his shoulders. His redheaded friend tried to call him back but Harry simply called back that he would see him at detention, and flashed him a friendly smile. He needed some space, first.
The dark water looked particularly cold and unwelcoming tonight, the bright moon glimmering on her silky surface. Harry leaned back against the rough bark of the tree behind him and threw a stone lightly onto the perfect surface of the Black Lake, watching it ripple in response. The cold night air felt good on his sweaty forehead. He began to feel the stress and pain of the day ebb away.
He felt another person's presence before he saw it through the darkness. His body stiffened and he pushed his shoulders hard against the trunk, turning his head into the night to see who was near. His green eyes caught silver and he let his body relax again. Draco.
"You okay?" The blonde sat down nearby, staring out into the black and silver water.
"I'm fucking great. There's the biggest fucking war going on that our world has ever seen and that wanker in there is holding a Halloween Ball. As if everything is fucking normal."
He threw another stone and watched it disappearing into the hungry mouth of the lake.
"You are right. But what is the other option? Turn the school into a military base until the Dark Lord is overthrown? That could be years away."
Harry chuckled darkly and met Draco's stormy glare.
"Maybe, if that's what it takes. It wont be years away though. It's coming sooner than we all think."
"What's that, Professor Trelawny?" Draco smirked.
Harry threw a stone at his stupid blonde head, missing by a good foot.
The Slytherin flicked his wand and a pile of leaves fell from the branch above Harry, showering his head and shoulders in leaves and dirt. Harry picked up another rock and tossed it at Draco again, this time the blonde ducked as the rock hit the tree behind him.
"By the way, Potter, what did you say to Pansy today? Her and Theo refused to repeat it to anyone."
Harry laughed and shook his head, his eyes glinting in the darkness.
"Come on, let's get this detention over with".
"Enter."
As soon as Harry closed the door behind him, he felt a spell shoot over his left shoulder and heard the door lock with a click. He looked up through his dark fringe in time to see Snape round on him in a billowing cloud of fury. Ah fuck.
Fear coursed through his slender body and he stepped backwards quickly until he felt the cold wooden door press into his shoulder blades. He kept his arms resolutely by his sides instead of lifting them instinctually to protect his head.
He had served his detention with the rest of the Gryffindors and Slytherins the previous night silently and obediently. Tonight, was the first time being alone with the former death eater since the potions class where all hell had broken loose, so to speak.
A small part of Harry's mind reminded him that Snape would never hurt him, but, as the tall, dark professor stalked towards him looking dangerous, a larger part of Harry's brain was fumbling for the panic button.
He grabbed at the door handle but knew it was useless. He clenched and unclenched his fists a few times, trying to rein in his emotions, without success. Shrinking back against the door, he made himself as small as possible and watched the older wizard closely to anticipate which way to dodge the first blow.
Severus wasn't that angry. Okay, he was, but not quite as angry as he would have the younger wizard believe. His long stride quickly ate the space between them until he was looming over the teenager menacingly. His voice was a low snarl.
"Stand up straight, Mr. Potter. You will not cower."
He watched the boy struggle with his emotions for a few moments, visibly pushing down his fear and complying as best he could.
"I'm going to explain your punishment to you, and you are going to listen and not speak until I am finished."
He paused again, knowing the silence and anticipation would strike just as much fear as his cold, angry voice. He waited until the wide, emerald eyes dropped to the floor before speaking again. This time in an icy tone barely above a whisper.
"Firstly, you will brew a skelegrow to the highest standard. Secondly, all training will cease unless you eat three full meals each and every day. And finally, you will attend the Halloween Ball."
He paused again, the boy looked confused.
"Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir." His response was barely audible. He glanced up through his inky fringe to meet the cold gaze of his professor before dropping his eyes to the floor once more.
Severus led Harry out to the classroom and sat at his desk, resolutely ignoring the boy.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief as his personal space became his own again. He could barely still his shaking hands enough to gather ingredients for the skelegrow without incident. He stopped for a moment in the storeroom and took a deep, steadying breath, willing his hammering heart to slow down. After a few seconds of focus, he pushed his fear away and firmly rebuilt his boy who lived mask. He was right, he thought to himself with relief, Snape wouldn't hurt him.