AN: This chapter was written by percyjackson135 and edited by me. I did add the last few lines at the end as well to make it feel more complete. We hope you all enjoy!
Author's note: whoever it is that is harassing us for no reason, you had better stop. Has it ever occurred to you that writing about certain things, especially disability related ideas are therapeutic to those who actually are disabled? Whoever you are, you had better think about who you are talking to before you attack for no particular reason. My friends and I do not appreciate it! If you do it again, I will call the authorities.
Chapter 7:
A few weeks since the incident in the hospital wing went by, and it was already December. Or, the beginning of it anyway. Once again, Harry made sure all of his homework was done. This kind of annoyed Ron a little, but Harry didn't care anymore. All he wanted was to remain stress-free, especially because his good-for-nothing scar was hurting him constantly, which was extremely stupid because Voldemort was nowhere near him. However, he had a couple of detentions with Umbridge, which left him on edge and his hand smarting from the blood quill he was forced to use whenever he had detention with her. It was clear she hated him, but there was nothing he could do about it.
It was only in the evenings after dinner that really helped him to relax. Living in the Room of Requirement was actually extremely peaceful for him. Harry didn't know why, but he felt safe there and he had no one to nag him constantly. It also helped that the room also provided anti-scar creams for his hand and he had a place to truly be himself. Not tonight though. Tonight was somehow different and Harry had a bad feeling about it.
It was the night of December seventeenth and since Harry felt rather fidgety and anxious, he didn't really feel like going into his Little Headspace as of yet. He felt he needed to talk to the person he felt closest to at the moment, considering that he and Zacharias had been living in this room for a little over two months now. So, after finishing his homework and putting it neatly into his magically expandable backpack, he broached the subject that was bothering him the most.
When the younger boy sat down at one of the work tables the Room had provided, Zacharias noticed how beaten-down and tired Harry really was. He also took note of the fact that Harry looked a little scared and worried.
"What's up?" He asked, "You are only this fidgety when something is really bothering you, so spit it out."
"Well, all right. My scar seems to tell me when Voldemort is about to do something whether he is near me or not. I can sense his moods and times sometimes and sometimes his moods affect me. It's almost as if I feel what he feels, but I know that these feelings are not my own. It scares me because I have no idea what's going on. Sometimes these visions are about something that is really happening and sometimes they aren't. That's why I think I shouldn't take that potion tonight. I have a really bad feeling and if anything happens, I need to be able to tell Dumbledore about it."
Zacharias looked thoughtful. "You know, as crazy as it sounds, I think I get what you're saying. If it makes you feel better, we don't have to do any of that tonight. However, if anything happens, I will be waking you up and taking you to the Headmaster's office. No question about it."
Harry looked relieved. "I understand; and it feels good to get that off of my chest."
Zacharias POV:
Ever since I started living in the Room of Requirement, I've noticed things about Harry that both made sense and were rather odd. I thought I would never get attached to him the way I am, but something about him just makes me want to protect him. However, I know I can't do that, at least, not with everything. When he told me that he wanted to forgo the potion tonight, I was a little worried. I was starting to realize that Potter going into his Little Headspace was normal for him if he got scared. But if he didn't even if he was, I knew and understood that it was something much bigger. I grew more and more worried as he told me about his scar hurting him more and more and I was starting to understand that he was somehow connected to the Dark Lord in more ways than I even thought possible.
When I heard Harry panicking because he was so scared of what Voldemort was going to do to him, I couldn't help myself. Even though he wasn't in his Little Headspace, I hugged him tight as he shivered and shook with both cold and fear.
"It's okay, it's okay!" I told him gently, "He can't hurt you, not here." Then I remembered something that I meant to tell the younger child but had forgotten to do so. "Pot- I mean Harry," I said gently. "I know that your aunt and uncle aren't very nice people, but the headmaster told me something a while ago. He wanted to tell you himself, but you were out of commission. Do you know the real reason why he left you at your aunt and uncles house?" When Harry shook his head, Zacharias continued, "The real reason he left you there was because when your mother died for you, she left you more than just her protection. Her sacrifice was extremely powerful and when you got that scar on your forehead, he knew that everyone would recognize you and he didn't want you to be exposed to that. Even though he knew in his own way that things would be different, your aunt, being your mother's sister, provided the necessary protection that you needed. She may have not treated you very well, but she still allowed you to live in her home; creating the wards necessary for your protection. These wards are called blood wards and as long as you call your aunt's home your own home, they will remain and serve to protect you."
I watched anxiously as the younger child looked up at me; a look of confusion on his face. I could tell immediately that he didn't fully understand what the heck I was talking about, but I knew that he was a smart kid and that he would figure it out eventually. I knew he hated living there, but because Voldemort was at large, I wanted to do everything possible to protect him. He still looked panicked and fearful, but I kept hugging him and letting him know that everything would be all right. I also agreed with him that taking the potion tonight would be dangerous because I somehow knew and understood that there was something more, more evil in that scar, but I didn't know what it was just yet. I also knew that because of this evil, my little baby, my boy was not quite himself and he didn't always feel well because of it. So, all I could do for him that night was to hug him and cuddle him the way an older sibling or parent would. But it wasn't until the middle of the night that anything happened at all. I saw the look in his eyes, and I also knew that he was beyond frightened. He looked a little ashamed as well.
"There's no reason to be ashamed, Harry," I soothed him gently,, rubbing my hand up and down his back, "You've done nothing wrong."
"Are you sure?" When those big, emerald-green eyes looked into my own, I felt my heart break for the young, confused boy."
"I'm sure," I assured him, "Do you want to go cuddle on the couch?" I turned to where the Room had provided a couch for us.
He only nodded in response.
