This story is by FawkesnFalme and FatnSassyQuattaHoss.
Summery: Harry's uncle is abusing him and Dumbledore and Severus Snape come to save him and he spends the rest of the summer at Hogwarts recuperating. But when Ron and Hermione come back, they're mad at him, and so is most of the school actually. Why are they mad at him? And what is this strange mirror that he receives for Christmas? Will Ron, Hermione and the rest of the school ever forgive him? And why does he keep seeing his parents in the mirror? If it's not the Mirror of Erised, than what is it?
Disclaimer: We told you already . . . . _We don't own them!_ How can we get it through your thick skulls!
Ch. 3 Fear of Everything
A/N: Sorry this took so long people. I wasn't really planning on carrying out that threat, but life is hectic, first we have to move, then I start a new school, then new biology teacher ends up being a bitch and assigns five projects at once. After that author lady here gets grounded off the 'Puter for being suspended off the bus. And after that I have a complete mental burn out thanks to geometry. ::pokes geometry with a stick:: E-vil!!! Anyway... On with the story... and all ... ::crickets chirp:: Ok... no one's here.. (FawkesnFlame: Hey! What am I doing here then? I thought...) Oh well... I'll write to amuse myself then. (FF: *glares but reads story in spite of author's accusations*)
From the top to the bottom
Bottom to top I stop
At the core I've forgotten
In the middle of my thoughts
Taken far from my safety
The picture is there
The memory won't escape me
But why should I care
There's a place so dark you can't see the end
Skies cock back
And a shock which can't defend
The rain that sends dripping
And acidic question
Forcefully
The power of suggestion
Then with the eyes tightly shut
Looking through the rust and rot and dust
A spot of light floods the floor
And pours over the rusted world of pretend
And the eyes ease open and it's dark again
In the memory you'll find me
Eyes burning up
The darkness holding me tightly
Until the sun rises up
Moving all around Screaming of the ups and downs
Pollution manifested in perpetual sound
The wheels go round
And the sunset creeps past the street lamps, chain link and concrete
A little piece of paper with a picture drawn
Floats on down the street
Till the wind in gone
The memory is now like the picture was then
When the papers crumpled up it can't be perfect again
Now you got me caught in the act
You bring the thought back
I'm telling you that
I see it right through you
The two men stumbled through the fireplace in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. This was not turning out to be a good night. At seeing the abused and battered Harry, Arabella had sucked in a breath of air, eyes wide. She silently led them to the parlor, and fell sobbing onto the sofa, muttering that it was all her fault, that she should've seen it coming. Severus was worried about her - they had left her on her couch crying, they couldn't waste any time. But when Sirius found out, there was going to be hell to pay, he only hoped Remus had bought the ex-convict a choke chain and muzzle. He shook his head. How were they going to tell the boy's godfather without having to worry about him returning to Azkaban for murder. When Black got angry, well, to say that it wasn't fun was the understatement of the year. The first place he'd go would be the Dursleys; Severus didn't even want to think about that. Not now, not with a dying fifteen year old in his arms.
And Arabella. Sirius would blame her for not looking out for Harry, although he was innocent of betraying Lily and James, Albus always seemed to conveniently forget that he was going to kill Pettigrew; that he would have had Peter not gotten the better of him. Madame Pomfrey's voice snapped him out of his reverie.
"Severus? What are you doing in here this time of night. What did you do to injure yourself this time. You were always an accident prone-"
She stopped mid sentence, staring at the young boy in her former patients arms. Her eyes widened in shock.
"What?" she started, but Severus cut her off.
"It was his relatives," he said looking down sadly at the boy. He blinked in disbelief, frustration, hate. He hated Potter's relatives for doing this to him. An innocent boy. If it was the last thing he did.. . . . .
He blinked again bringing himself back to reality. This was Harry Potter, James' son, the boy who thought himself above the rules. But no one deserved this. . . . well . . . excepting Voldemort. Severus blinked again.
Since when have I started caring about people. This boy has been messing with my head since he first arrived here.
Falling, I'm falling
Have you ever walked through a room
But it was more like the room passed around you
Like there was a leash around your neck that pulled
You through
Have you ever been at some place
Recognizing everybody's face
Until you realized that there was no one there that you knew
Well I know
Some days my soul's confined and out of mind
Sleep forever
Some days I'm so outshined and out of time
Have you ever
Falling, I'm falling
Have you ever buried your face in your hands
Cause no one around you understands
Or has the slightest idea of what it is that makes you be
Have you ever felt like there was more
Like someone else was keeping score
And what could make you whole was simply out of reach
Well, I know
Someday I'll try again and not pretend
This time forever
Someday I'll get this straight, but not today
Have you ever
Falling, I'm Falling
Some days my soul's confined and out of mind
Sleep forever
Some days my darkest friend is me again Some day I'll try again and not pretend
This time forever
Some day I'll get it straight but not today
Have you ever
When the truth walks away
Everybody stays
Cause the truth about the world is that crime does pay
So if you walk away, who is gonna stay
Cause I'd like to think the world is a better place
When the truth walks away, Everybody stays
Cause the truth about the world is that crime does pay
So if you walk away
Who is gonna stay
Cause I'd like to make the world a better place
When the truth walks away
Everybody stays
Cause the truth about the world is that crime does pay
So if you walk away
Who is gonna stay
Cause I'd like to think the world is a better place
I'd like to leave the world as a better place
I'd like to think the world....
By morning everyone in the castle knew about Harry: all of the professors, the members of the order. Severus sighed, this was supposed to be a secret for now. Generally the entire population of the world didn't know secrets. Well... come to think of it, they usually did. That's just how things work he supposed... especially if you told a secret to Filius Flitwick. That man just could not keep his mouth closed -- for his own good or for the sake of others. It was not going to be a good day. They'd all tried to crowd into the hospital wing...well the professors at least, and some of the Order, trying to see if they could help. Severus just sat in the corner in amusement, none of them had any idea of what to do to help the boy. Neither did he if it came to that, but at least he wasn't getting in the way.
He smirked as Poppy finally got fed up and ordered everyone out, along with a few other orders. Minerva and Filius were to look up more complicated healing spells that could be found in a book in the restricted section. Albus was, no doubt going off to owl that bumbling werewolf and his flea covered mut. Hey, just because he was feeling some sort of compassion for Harry didn't mean he had to take to the boys whole posse. And he was to go make some healing potions. What had Poppy asked for again? Oh shit! He'd forgotten... Potter's back, he'd need some heavy duty, seriously painful potions if the boy was ever going to walk again. Forget walk he thought, they'd be lucky if the boy lived in this condition.
The dungeons were a comfort as he arrived there. . . no people, no pestering, and no Potter. He didn't think he'd last much longer if he was still up there. All the blood, and the bruises, and bones. He shuddered, the only thing he'd ever seen that had been that gruesome was when he was a Death Eater. Even then Voldemort usually killed his victims before it reached that level of insanity. Screw a choke chain, unless Remus wanted his little flea bag buddy kissed he'd have to buy him a cage and padlock so he wouldn't go murder the Dursley's. Not, he thought once again, that it would be such an unpleasant thing . . . . he'd be rid of Black and those mentally unstable Muggles. But Potter would need his godfather if. . . no when . . . when he recovered.
The Potions Master shuddered. He was being a little too bleak, even for him. He realized quite suddenly that he was standing in front of his chambers. And since the portrait seemed to be looking at him uneasily he assumed that he'd been standing there for a while.
The portrait, a young women in front of a piano spoke up, "I knew you wanted a girl friend, but I never thought you'd get this desperate. Not that I'm not pleased, Sevvie."
Severus rolled his eyes and muttered something that would have offended the portrait greatly, if she had heard.
"If you'll please let me into my chambers, I've got urgent business to attend to." She scowled at him but opened up, and banged shut a little harshly for his liking. He thumped on the back of the portrait and heard an answering "Harrummph." He smirked, now, to get started on those potions for Potter. Potions for Potter, he shook his head, he was definitely losing it. No... It had already been gone for a while.
Crawling in my skin
These wounds they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real
There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface
Consuming
Confusing
This lack of self control I fear is never ending
Controlling
I can't seem
To find myself again
My walls are closing in
(Without a sense of confidence I'm convinced that there's just too much pressure to take)
I've felt this way before
So insecure
Discomfort endlessly has pulled itself upon me
Distracting
Reacting
Against my will I stand beside my own reflection
It's haunting how I can't seem...
Poppy Pomfrey couldn't believe her eyes when she saw the boy that was brought into her. He didn't resemble the Harry Potter she'd known at all, in fact he didn't resemble any living person she'd ever seen. He more resembled what she'd had to deal with when she'd worked in the Ministry's hospital department. No, those were memories that she didn't want to bring back right now. She had to concentrate on keeping the boy in front of her alive. With all of those pesky professors gone she could finally work. She gently began removing his clothes, wincing as it uncovered more wounds. Some were definitely infected, others looked fresher, and had began bleeding as soon as the cloth was peeled off of the boy's body. The first things she did was perform a cleaning spell -- she couldn't tell if the boy was just really filthy, or if his wounds were infected that badly, or both. She winced and looked away as soon as the boy was clean, it was much worse then she'd thought. His whole body was covered in cuts and bruises. Bones sticking out in many places. Thankfully most of them could be healed relatively quickly by magic. Others would need a little longer, and would have to heal the Muggle way.
She did a mental tally of all the potions she'd need. Some healing potions for sure, some disinfecting potions so his wounds wouldn't be so badly swollen, and to top it all off this boy was ill. She'd need some fever reducing potions, some Pepper up potion at least, and some Muggle medications wouldn't hurt, like penicillin. She quickly felt around Harry's head and cringed when she felt the fresh seepage of blood. First thing was first, she had to heal his concussions so the Gryffindor wouldn't wake up mentally less capable, putting it nicely. And his spine, how could someone do that to a poor boy! Thankfully Severus kept stores of basic, and not so basic, and not quite legal healing potions.
As soon as he awoke, Harry would need to take the potion to heal his spine before it was too late. He'd be lucky to walk again, and there were no doubt going to be some permanent side affects -- physically, but mostly mentally. How could someone do this to a child who had been through so much already? She put her mind off of that, she needed to concentrate on healing the battered boy in front of her.
Summery: Harry's uncle is abusing him and Dumbledore and Severus Snape come to save him and he spends the rest of the summer at Hogwarts recuperating. But when Ron and Hermione come back, they're mad at him, and so is most of the school actually. Why are they mad at him? And what is this strange mirror that he receives for Christmas? Will Ron, Hermione and the rest of the school ever forgive him? And why does he keep seeing his parents in the mirror? If it's not the Mirror of Erised, than what is it?
Disclaimer: We told you already . . . . _We don't own them!_ How can we get it through your thick skulls!
Ch. 3 Fear of Everything
A/N: Sorry this took so long people. I wasn't really planning on carrying out that threat, but life is hectic, first we have to move, then I start a new school, then new biology teacher ends up being a bitch and assigns five projects at once. After that author lady here gets grounded off the 'Puter for being suspended off the bus. And after that I have a complete mental burn out thanks to geometry. ::pokes geometry with a stick:: E-vil!!! Anyway... On with the story... and all ... ::crickets chirp:: Ok... no one's here.. (FawkesnFlame: Hey! What am I doing here then? I thought...) Oh well... I'll write to amuse myself then. (FF: *glares but reads story in spite of author's accusations*)
From the top to the bottom
Bottom to top I stop
At the core I've forgotten
In the middle of my thoughts
Taken far from my safety
The picture is there
The memory won't escape me
But why should I care
There's a place so dark you can't see the end
Skies cock back
And a shock which can't defend
The rain that sends dripping
And acidic question
Forcefully
The power of suggestion
Then with the eyes tightly shut
Looking through the rust and rot and dust
A spot of light floods the floor
And pours over the rusted world of pretend
And the eyes ease open and it's dark again
In the memory you'll find me
Eyes burning up
The darkness holding me tightly
Until the sun rises up
Moving all around Screaming of the ups and downs
Pollution manifested in perpetual sound
The wheels go round
And the sunset creeps past the street lamps, chain link and concrete
A little piece of paper with a picture drawn
Floats on down the street
Till the wind in gone
The memory is now like the picture was then
When the papers crumpled up it can't be perfect again
Now you got me caught in the act
You bring the thought back
I'm telling you that
I see it right through you
The two men stumbled through the fireplace in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. This was not turning out to be a good night. At seeing the abused and battered Harry, Arabella had sucked in a breath of air, eyes wide. She silently led them to the parlor, and fell sobbing onto the sofa, muttering that it was all her fault, that she should've seen it coming. Severus was worried about her - they had left her on her couch crying, they couldn't waste any time. But when Sirius found out, there was going to be hell to pay, he only hoped Remus had bought the ex-convict a choke chain and muzzle. He shook his head. How were they going to tell the boy's godfather without having to worry about him returning to Azkaban for murder. When Black got angry, well, to say that it wasn't fun was the understatement of the year. The first place he'd go would be the Dursleys; Severus didn't even want to think about that. Not now, not with a dying fifteen year old in his arms.
And Arabella. Sirius would blame her for not looking out for Harry, although he was innocent of betraying Lily and James, Albus always seemed to conveniently forget that he was going to kill Pettigrew; that he would have had Peter not gotten the better of him. Madame Pomfrey's voice snapped him out of his reverie.
"Severus? What are you doing in here this time of night. What did you do to injure yourself this time. You were always an accident prone-"
She stopped mid sentence, staring at the young boy in her former patients arms. Her eyes widened in shock.
"What?" she started, but Severus cut her off.
"It was his relatives," he said looking down sadly at the boy. He blinked in disbelief, frustration, hate. He hated Potter's relatives for doing this to him. An innocent boy. If it was the last thing he did.. . . . .
He blinked again bringing himself back to reality. This was Harry Potter, James' son, the boy who thought himself above the rules. But no one deserved this. . . . well . . . excepting Voldemort. Severus blinked again.
Since when have I started caring about people. This boy has been messing with my head since he first arrived here.
Falling, I'm falling
Have you ever walked through a room
But it was more like the room passed around you
Like there was a leash around your neck that pulled
You through
Have you ever been at some place
Recognizing everybody's face
Until you realized that there was no one there that you knew
Well I know
Some days my soul's confined and out of mind
Sleep forever
Some days I'm so outshined and out of time
Have you ever
Falling, I'm falling
Have you ever buried your face in your hands
Cause no one around you understands
Or has the slightest idea of what it is that makes you be
Have you ever felt like there was more
Like someone else was keeping score
And what could make you whole was simply out of reach
Well, I know
Someday I'll try again and not pretend
This time forever
Someday I'll get this straight, but not today
Have you ever
Falling, I'm Falling
Some days my soul's confined and out of mind
Sleep forever
Some days my darkest friend is me again Some day I'll try again and not pretend
This time forever
Some day I'll get it straight but not today
Have you ever
When the truth walks away
Everybody stays
Cause the truth about the world is that crime does pay
So if you walk away, who is gonna stay
Cause I'd like to think the world is a better place
When the truth walks away, Everybody stays
Cause the truth about the world is that crime does pay
So if you walk away
Who is gonna stay
Cause I'd like to make the world a better place
When the truth walks away
Everybody stays
Cause the truth about the world is that crime does pay
So if you walk away
Who is gonna stay
Cause I'd like to think the world is a better place
I'd like to leave the world as a better place
I'd like to think the world....
By morning everyone in the castle knew about Harry: all of the professors, the members of the order. Severus sighed, this was supposed to be a secret for now. Generally the entire population of the world didn't know secrets. Well... come to think of it, they usually did. That's just how things work he supposed... especially if you told a secret to Filius Flitwick. That man just could not keep his mouth closed -- for his own good or for the sake of others. It was not going to be a good day. They'd all tried to crowd into the hospital wing...well the professors at least, and some of the Order, trying to see if they could help. Severus just sat in the corner in amusement, none of them had any idea of what to do to help the boy. Neither did he if it came to that, but at least he wasn't getting in the way.
He smirked as Poppy finally got fed up and ordered everyone out, along with a few other orders. Minerva and Filius were to look up more complicated healing spells that could be found in a book in the restricted section. Albus was, no doubt going off to owl that bumbling werewolf and his flea covered mut. Hey, just because he was feeling some sort of compassion for Harry didn't mean he had to take to the boys whole posse. And he was to go make some healing potions. What had Poppy asked for again? Oh shit! He'd forgotten... Potter's back, he'd need some heavy duty, seriously painful potions if the boy was ever going to walk again. Forget walk he thought, they'd be lucky if the boy lived in this condition.
The dungeons were a comfort as he arrived there. . . no people, no pestering, and no Potter. He didn't think he'd last much longer if he was still up there. All the blood, and the bruises, and bones. He shuddered, the only thing he'd ever seen that had been that gruesome was when he was a Death Eater. Even then Voldemort usually killed his victims before it reached that level of insanity. Screw a choke chain, unless Remus wanted his little flea bag buddy kissed he'd have to buy him a cage and padlock so he wouldn't go murder the Dursley's. Not, he thought once again, that it would be such an unpleasant thing . . . . he'd be rid of Black and those mentally unstable Muggles. But Potter would need his godfather if. . . no when . . . when he recovered.
The Potions Master shuddered. He was being a little too bleak, even for him. He realized quite suddenly that he was standing in front of his chambers. And since the portrait seemed to be looking at him uneasily he assumed that he'd been standing there for a while.
The portrait, a young women in front of a piano spoke up, "I knew you wanted a girl friend, but I never thought you'd get this desperate. Not that I'm not pleased, Sevvie."
Severus rolled his eyes and muttered something that would have offended the portrait greatly, if she had heard.
"If you'll please let me into my chambers, I've got urgent business to attend to." She scowled at him but opened up, and banged shut a little harshly for his liking. He thumped on the back of the portrait and heard an answering "Harrummph." He smirked, now, to get started on those potions for Potter. Potions for Potter, he shook his head, he was definitely losing it. No... It had already been gone for a while.
Crawling in my skin
These wounds they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real
There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface
Consuming
Confusing
This lack of self control I fear is never ending
Controlling
I can't seem
To find myself again
My walls are closing in
(Without a sense of confidence I'm convinced that there's just too much pressure to take)
I've felt this way before
So insecure
Discomfort endlessly has pulled itself upon me
Distracting
Reacting
Against my will I stand beside my own reflection
It's haunting how I can't seem...
Poppy Pomfrey couldn't believe her eyes when she saw the boy that was brought into her. He didn't resemble the Harry Potter she'd known at all, in fact he didn't resemble any living person she'd ever seen. He more resembled what she'd had to deal with when she'd worked in the Ministry's hospital department. No, those were memories that she didn't want to bring back right now. She had to concentrate on keeping the boy in front of her alive. With all of those pesky professors gone she could finally work. She gently began removing his clothes, wincing as it uncovered more wounds. Some were definitely infected, others looked fresher, and had began bleeding as soon as the cloth was peeled off of the boy's body. The first things she did was perform a cleaning spell -- she couldn't tell if the boy was just really filthy, or if his wounds were infected that badly, or both. She winced and looked away as soon as the boy was clean, it was much worse then she'd thought. His whole body was covered in cuts and bruises. Bones sticking out in many places. Thankfully most of them could be healed relatively quickly by magic. Others would need a little longer, and would have to heal the Muggle way.
She did a mental tally of all the potions she'd need. Some healing potions for sure, some disinfecting potions so his wounds wouldn't be so badly swollen, and to top it all off this boy was ill. She'd need some fever reducing potions, some Pepper up potion at least, and some Muggle medications wouldn't hurt, like penicillin. She quickly felt around Harry's head and cringed when she felt the fresh seepage of blood. First thing was first, she had to heal his concussions so the Gryffindor wouldn't wake up mentally less capable, putting it nicely. And his spine, how could someone do that to a poor boy! Thankfully Severus kept stores of basic, and not so basic, and not quite legal healing potions.
As soon as he awoke, Harry would need to take the potion to heal his spine before it was too late. He'd be lucky to walk again, and there were no doubt going to be some permanent side affects -- physically, but mostly mentally. How could someone do this to a child who had been through so much already? She put her mind off of that, she needed to concentrate on healing the battered boy in front of her.