Hey Y'all!

this turned into a pretty long chapter and I was tryna find a way to cut it in half but there wasn't a stopping point. However this means that this is the last of the prewritten chapters and we are back to waiting for me to write the rest of the next one.

Also somewhere I mentioned no slash in this story, but the relationships took a life of their own and so there will begin to be more Harry/Hermione relationship building.

Enjoy!

The rest of the week passed by smoothly. Snape's classes were still canceled. Umbridge would smile at Harry as though she had finally broken him of his nonsense. The other teachers had noticed the two's odd behavior, and their connection with Harry. McGonagall had even commented about how quiet the castle's been that week.

Harry was glad when Friday evening finally rolled around as it was hard work to keep Umbridge in check. Or more like keeping himself and Hermione in check around the pink toad. His last class of the day was DADA, the whole lesson drug on for ages before they were dismissed. Of course Umbridge had asked to see him after class.

"Glad to see that my lessons have finally sunk in Mister Potter. Lets hope that they stay that way shall we?" Umbridge had smirked and patted his cheek before dismissing him. As he left the classroom he was greeted with a concerned look from Hermione and a confused Ron.

"Not in trouble, she's just gloating." he answered Hermione's unspoken question as he led them to the great hall for some lunch.

In the hall, many kids from Dumbledore's Army were crowding around the Gryffindor table around the area that the trio normally sat, not scared of getting in trouble since the harpy was still in her classroom.

"Is it true Harry, Patronouses?" some ravenclaw asked as the three sat down, Ron immediately pulling food onto his plate. The boy who lived nodded and the group was filled with excited murmuring, something that he ignored in favor of looking at the staff table. Since Monday, Snape hadn't been seen during meals and as the week progressed, Harry was beginning to get concerned about the potion master. Ron caught his gaze and spoke through a mouthful of ham.

"The twins reckon some first year messed up a potion so he's avoiding meals due to intestinal problems." Hermione scowled at his lack of manners and turned to Harry, meaning to disprove Ron's comment but he was no longer listening.

Harry had been worried since Monday of the older man's avoidance of him. He wasn't responding in the usual way that he's known adults to respond in. Well, Harry really only knew adults to respond in one way, which was in disbelief and anger. Possibly stating how there's no way that the perfect Dursley's of Number 4 Privet Drive were aggressive towards their young ward. Yet Snape wasn't showing anger or disbelief, he was simply not showing at all.

"Alright then. See you tonight Harry!" The words shook him out of his thoughts as the group got up from the table to enjoy the rest of their afternoon.

"Oi mate, what were you thinking about? Fred and George asked you like five questions just then, and you didn't respond." Ron questioned as they headed back to the common room. Harry also realized that due to his thinking, he forgot to eat but at the moment he didn't feel hungry anyway.

"Oh um, just planning for tonight and all. It's gonna be hard to practice the patronus without real dementors, or even stand-ins like the boggart I had. Was trying to think if we could make due without them." the reached the portrait and after giving the password to the fat lady, sat in their usual seats in the common room.

"Well I've read about them, which is nothing like actually facing them like you have Harry, but maybe I could cast an illusion charm? Conjure up a sort of apparition for them." Hermione suggested.

"That's actually a really good idea. But you should teach me as well so you can practice the patronus." He turned to Ron, remembering the last year when his friend was concerned that Harry was leaving him out of their planning and invited him to join.

"Nah. Seamus and Dean offered to play a game of wizards chess. No offense, but I would rather play with them. Leave the lessons for later, yeah?" With a nod and a smile he got up to join the other boys.

"Alright, where should we practice?" Harry questioned.

"Boys dormitories? None of them will be using it for a while." They turned to where Ron had left to play chess and found Neville had joined them, the awkward boy cheering on Ron, and Dean cheering on Seamus.

Once the door had closed- Harry had yet to figure out the logic behind the staircases- Hermione began mumbling about the incantation. Harry sat on the edge of his bed watching her work out the spell, her wand producing little sparks to show her concentration. Finally after ten minutes, she had worked out the spell and was beginning to teach Harry who, despite the chill of the castle, rolled up his sleeves to help give him some more mobility (the demonstration that Hermione had done looked like he could use the extra help). After about 30 minutes of him practicing, he was able to conjure up a pretty passable Dementor, although it didn't exude the feeling of despair.

The two sat at the edge of his bed to rest, but Harry could tell that something was bothering his friend. She had given him odd looks, of differing types, but he caught her glancing at his arms when she thought he wasn't looking. While he couldn't blame her, he wasn't sure that he was open to sharing his past.

Hermione was fidgeting beside him, trying to hide her burning questions, and Harry appreciated her self control. She had been there for him since his first year, quickly becoming one of his best friends after covering for them about the troll. He still couldn't believe how quick her brain processed things in order to have that good of a silver tongue at 11, but was grateful for it anyway. She had found the identity of the creature in second year, and although she wasn't able to give it to him directly she had told them where to find the basilisk. Third year she risked her life with the werewolf call to summon Remus Lupin's accidental transformation. Last year she had stuck with him through the pains of the trial, despite being under the watchful and lying eye of Rita Skeeter. Harry supposed if there was anyone he trusted, then it would have to be her. She was the only person in his life who has yet to turn away from him in time of need.

Sighing, he turned to her, preparing to open the conversation in a soft way, but his mouth had other ideas as the words that tumbled past his lips were "You know, not every scar is from the Dursley's or Umbridge, I got this one from Voldemort." He pointed stupidly to his forehead. And then proceeded to think about nice holes to crawl into for the rest of his life because did he really just say that?

There was a shocked snort of laughter that confirmed his fears. "Harry you can't just, no, you can't compare the two. It wasn't funny." Hermione tried to admonish but more laughter blocked it out. Harry couldn't help it, he began laughing too. Soon the two of them had lied back on the bed from laughing, and he suspected it was more due to the stress of the secret between them than it actually being humorous. After a few minutes they had finally calmed down enough, both still lying on their backs on the bed, their calves hanging off the side.

"Do they hurt?" Hermione's soft voice broke their exhausted silence. "I mean obviously they did when you got them, but do they hurt you now?"

"Not much. Sometimes they pull with certain actions." He was going to try and answer her questions honestly, but he figured there were things that he wouldn't share. And Hermione knew that, and he truly was grateful that she would respect him and not push too hard.

"Have Ron or I ever agitated them?" Of course they have. He generally came to school with an abused back, the bruises lasting through the first month of school, sometimes longer like their second year when he had a few broken ribs. But the incident with Lockhart which made him have to down several cups of Skelegrow had healed them in addition to his arm.

"Yes. I generally have them at the beginning of the year." He noticed the alarm on her face at the statement. "But neither of you hurt me badly, just touched a bruise or cut. And I don't blame you."

"You never said anything, barely winced, barely reacted. I knew there was something wrong second year because you never stay that still in classes but it was fixed after a few months so I figured it was something else." Tears had begun to pool in her eyes and he was quick to pull her into a hug. "I should have noticed. I could've done something, I could've helped. God Harry if only I had-"

"Hermione." He pulled away, keeping his hands on the girl's shoulders so he could look her in the eyes. "It's not your fault. None of this is. How I was treated, how I got these scars, was happening long before I met you. Even if you had noticed, there wasn't much you could do, there wasn't any evidence and the police back at Privet Drive are friends of my uncle. Trying to hold a case against them wouldn't have held, any evidence you had would have been lost." Harry remembered the one time he had gone to the police, only to have the chief drag him back and throw him on the Dursleys doorstep, laughing when Vernon had dragged him in cursing his name, not even waiting for the door to close before the beating had started.

"How long?" The question echoed Snapes and for a moment, Harry worried that his friend, his confidant, was going to avoid him as well.

"Since I was four or five." he mumbled. "But it wasn't as bad then. The scars didn't show up till I was about eight." it was a little more information than he gave the professor, but he didn't think that Snape wanted those specifics anyway.

Hermione put a hand to her mouth, she looked a bit pale at the information but the persistent gleam was still in her eye and he knew the questions weren't over yet.

"And the scars. Are there more than just your arm?" Harry nodded. "Can I, can I see them?" It took her a minute to realize what she said before she started gushing apologies. "Oh Harry, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking, you don't have to show me, forget I asked-"

"No. It's alright. I can show you.'' He hoped to God that no one walked in as he began to unbutton his school shirt, slowly sliding it off so that she could see his front. Once she saw it she gave a sharp gasp, a tentative hand reaching out as if to test if what she was seeing was real. If Harry was being honest, his chest was a mess. Long thin scars criss crossed over him, with smaller knicks and lines covering the small gaps. Multiple burns covered him as well, somewhere small and round, like the end of a cigarette, others were larger and more misshapen. Hermione ran her hand down the largest scar, running from his right shoulder to just above his left hip.

She moved on the bed to his back, another cry escaped her lips along with a sob. If his chest was littered in scars, he was pretty sure there was nothing but scar tissue on his back. More than once, his uncle had torn into him till he was bloody and kept going. One particularly bad night he had taken one of the manual can openers without the gears and ripped into him.

"Oh Harry." Her voice shook so much that he was sure she had begun to cry again. Turning he enveloped her into another hug. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed, and Harry ran a hand comfortingly along her back. At least he hoped it was comforting since no one had ever done it to him. Hermione cried for a few minutes more before extracting himself from his embrace and hugging herself, again finding her eyes drawn to the long scar. He decided to answer the unspoken question knowing that it might haunt her.

"Dudly had gotten a toy whip when I was nine. He had a weird fascination with cowboys at the time, no doubt from the endless amount of TV he watched. A bit later I had done something wrong and my uncle used the whip on me." Hermione was mortified with the story he could tell. "I guess he got a lucky hit or had a strong arm from using the belt so many times. It broke the skin with the first strike."

"How has no one noticed? Surely you weren't quiet about it, did the neighbors just ignore your screams?"

"I don't really remember the excuses they made, I wasn't usually around when they approached the door. Many didn't know I existed until Aunt Petunia deemed me fit to work in the gardens." He hadn't given much thought to it before, he was told that others didn't care about him from a young age and it set in quick enough within that environment, so he hadn't thought to question the lack of a response from the neighbors.

"Oh." she thought for a moment, lost in her own head of worries. Growing increasingly more paranoid and cold, Harry fumbled for his shirt and slipped his arms back through it and began buttoning it up as Hermione spoke. "But I know now. We have proof. We could go through the ministry, get them to give you a new home, someone who won't abuse you."

"To be honest Hermione," he said as he finished his last button, "I'm not very fond of the ministry right now. Nor do I think that they have my best interests in mind." Although those words seemed to be the wrong thing to say, like a spark in a fire, Hermione's eyes lit up with anger.

"That Devil Woman!" she huffed and glared at her wand like she wanted to curse Umbridge into the next century. "She shouldn't be allowed to teach! Despite no one learning a thing in her classes, she physically hurts students!"

"I don't think she hurts anyone as bad as me, I mean the twins only have to write lines." He mumbled, not exactly sure what the comment was supposed to do, provide comfort or add fuel to the fire. Unfortunately, he was pretty sure it was the latter.

"Harry, we need to go to Dumbledore. Despite what you may think, this is a big deal. If not for you, do it for everyone else who serves detention with her. To the other people who speak out," she cupped his hands in hers and pulled them into her lap. "For the people who support you."

Harry sat thinking for a moment. He honestly hadn't thought about the others going through the same as him, not because he didn't care, but more because he was focused on how he could handle it. Scolding himself, he had to admit that Hermione was right. "Alright. We can tell the Professor."

She gave him a soft smile as she pulled him into a hug, only broken when Ron barged into the room, laughing over his shoulder. It took him a minute to read the situation, and Harry was pretty sure that the message they were showing was read wrong. "Oi, I leave you alone for a few bloody minutes, and you take the time to snog?"

"What? No, Ron- we weren't, I mean, we didn't,"

"No, we were having ourselves a good cry. Hermione didn't think she scored high enough on the last transfiguration test and stressed herself out over it." Harry said once he realized that Ron was joking with them. When the red head was actually mad, he got moody and quiet, never addressing the issue.

"Funny. But what really happened mate. You both look like you've seen ghosts." He closed the door and approached the two on the bed, sitting across from them on his own.

Hermione looked at Harry for his approval, and he nodded. It wasn't like it wouldn't be public knowledge anyway once they told Dumbledore.

"We plan to go to Dumbledore about Umbridge. She's taken things too far." Hermione started, trying to ease into the conversation. "Her detentions, well, they've gone further than making Harry just write lines." Ron's eyebrows creased in concern and Harry rolled up his sleeves, deciding that it was the best way to break it to him. The taller boy let out a string of words that would've had Mrs. Weasley washing out his mouth.

"Geez Harry, just had to start a collection didn't ya?" The joke brought a weak smile to both their faces before Ron stood up. "Well c'mon then, no time like the present right?" and he strode towards the door. Harry and Hermione stared at him in shock before following.

"Wait, you mean right now?" Harry questioned.

"Of course! No one wants that bat in the school any longer than she has to be." Ron threw back over his shoulder. Hermione nodded and Harry supposed they were right.

Ron was slightly ahead as they walked, his posture the straightest anyone's ever seen him have. Harry supposed it was because his friend didn't think there would be a fault in the plan, which there undoubtedly would be since Harry was involved. Hermione kept a hand on his arm, offering comfort while not letting him turn around.

The trio had just turned down the hallway with the giant eagle when the bird spun, revealing Professor Umbridge. Her stout face was pinched and red, like someone had snuck hot sauce into her food. Spotting them however seemed to raise her spirits.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. So glad you're here, saves me the trouble of having to go searching for you." She marched straight up to him and pushed through Hermione and Ron, grabbing his arm and pulling him back toward Dumbledore's office. "Oh today is just my lucky day, I'm to be rid of both of you in an hour." She sang cheerily under her breath. He turned back to face his friends as they caught up with the two, all three teens confused.

"I haven't done anything!" Harry stated but the obnoxiously pink witch ignored him and pulled him into the Headmaster's office. To his surprise, he found the Minister of Magic with four aurors, Cho Chang and her friend although he couldn't remember her name at the moment. The girl was covering her face with her hands and soft sniffles and whimpers escaping every once and a while.

"Here he is Cornelius, and his friends, who I'm sure played a part in this as well." Umbridge chimed, her hand still not releasing Harry.

"Played a part in what?" Hermione asked, looking at Dumbledore for answers.

Dumbledore gave a soft smile and an out of place wink. "It seems Miss Granger, that they are referring to the secret Dark Arts club that I made you be a part of."

Hey Y'all!

Hope this chapter was good! please leave reviews they make me smile!