Harry stared at the slightly moist ground beneath his feet. He was useless,
worthless, a waste of space. How could he ever do anything right?
A 'right' person would have got Weasley back for that statement. Would have been sorted into Gryffindor, would have been someone his dead parents would have been proud of. A 'right' person would have dodged in front of Millie to catch her. A 'right' person would have fought back against his relatives. A 'right' person would have not made their head of house angry on the very first day.
A 'right' person would not be so scared of showing his scars to his friends; his family. But Harry had changed quickly inside the curtains of his bed, ignoring the playful teasing of the other boys but feeling totally alone. He didn't know what to do; had little enough experience of the muggle world, less of the wizarding one. And Draco was so mature, so intelligent, he understood everything and it made Harry feel so stupid. And so he stood, as though praying for answers to come out of the ground. But they didn't. There was just mud.
The realisation then hit him that it was totally dark, cold and raining. He had become soaked to the skin without even noticing it, and his dark robes clung to his skin, the cold wind chilling him to the bone. He stirred his leaden legs and moved stiffly towards the castle, uncaring of the fact he had just missed dinner. He ate so little at home he knew he would just be ill if he filled his stomach. But, he thought resolutely, nobody would know. He would be strong and brave like all the other Slytherins. Honestly, everyone's parents hit them when they were bad. He knew; Vernon had told him once. He knew all the things that happened to bad children.
(Well you asked for this, you little freak. . .whore. . .well, what else are you useful for?. . .slut. . .oh god, Potter. . .oh!. . .yes. . .suck it, freak. . .Potter. . .Potter. . .filth. . .good for nothing. . .swallow it, freak. . .)
"Harry!"
Draco caught Harry's shoulder, and Harry actually screamed.
"No! Don't! Please!"
Draco released his hold and looked at his new friend.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Harry. I just. . .Merlin! Pomfrey's going to have your guts if she sees you like this!"
He quickly stripped off Harry's cloak and replaced it with his own dry one, and hustled Harry towards the dorms. Harry looked around in amazement as Slytherins of all ages crowded around.
"Merlin Potter, what happened?" asked Flint. Harry just shook his head, teeth chattering. He was quickly amazed by the way the Slytherins worked together though; from what he had heard, they were a bunch of power-craving back-stabbers. Now, they ushered him to the fire. Pansy Parkinson rubbed at his head with a towel, probably with the best intentions, but an older girl pushed her out of the way and cast a drying charm on him instead as Harry winced when the towel raked over several cuts on his scalp. Meetings with the cupboard door. Feeling blissfully warm and dry, he accepted the buttered roll that Draco passed him, and sank his teeth into it hungrily. A dark-skinned girl called Blaise who Harry remembered seeing at the sorting laughed, but not unkindly.
"You look like you haven't eaten in weeks!"
"I know, he's skeletal!" chimed in another boy.
Harry laughed, slightly nervously and shrugged.
"I just have a fast metabolism. I burn off food really quickly" he said casually. It was something he remembered Vernon saying to a visitor who had accidentally caught sight of Harry, and it seemed to work, because Flint changed the subject.
"Harry, we heard about how Severus was with you today in Potions." He paused at Harry's puzzled look. "We can call him Severus in private when we're sure nobody's listening. It's a close knit group, Slytherin, more like a family than any other house. We have to be close, because everyone sets out to victimise us. Anyway, we just wanted to say that we're happy to have you in our house. We've never seen Severus victimise another Slytherin like this, but hopefully he'll stop it soon. If he doesn't, then I'll have a word with him. But don't worry - we're all behind you."
Harry nodded brusquely, feeling a lump in his throat. If only these people knew what he was - how 'wrong' he was. What a
(waste of space. . .freak. . .layabout. . .)
When he finally snapped back into himself, he realised that the attention had left him, and now everyone was reading, playing games, or talking. The firelight played on their features, giving them eerie dark eyes and hollowed-looking cheeks. The sight wasn't frightening though, more comforting than anything. The sense of anonymity made Harry feel safe. Not protected, but safe.
However, he wanted to be alone now. He slipped out of the common room, unnoticed, and headed up to his dormitory. He needed to get changed for bed before anyone else came up, so he quickly stripped and pulled his pyjamas on, just in time, as the second the top rolled down over his torso Draco came in.
"Are you alright, Harry?" he asked.
Harry nodded and forced a smile.
"Lots of work" he said, and laid his books out of his bed. Thankfully Draco didn't press him any further - or at least not for a while. Finally growing tired of his raven-haired friend's silence, Draco stood up.
"Harry, what are you hiding? What's going on?"
"Nothing" said Harry, keeping just the right amount of confusion in his voice. "Except this potions. . .SHIT!"
Draco looked at him.
"My detention!" Harry looked up at the clock. "I have TWO MINUTES!"
And he fled.
*******************************************
When he arrived at Filch's office, he found a very grumpy Weasley waiting outside.
"It's bloody freezing down here, Potter, and it's all your fault!"
*come on, Harry. Be brave.*
"No it's not. I didn't force you to fly."
Weasley glowered, and was silent for a moment. He had just opened his overly large mouth when the door swung open and Filch grinned down nastily at them before sending them to clean the corridor. With toothbrushes. The exertion made Harry feel sick and faint, and when they were finally done and out of the dungeons he collapsed to the floor, not noticing Weasley approach from behind until he felt a sharp kick to his ribs. Pain exploded through his body, and he choked as he felt a previously knitting rib unravel into a thousand shards of metal.
Another kick, and he rolled over to face Weasley, spitting out blood. So much blood. Soaking the back of his shirt, he could feel it. Warm and sticky, clinging to his clothes. God, he hated the feel of old blood.
"Get up, scum" hissed Weasley, and Harry complied, feeling that this was right, this was what he needed. He didn't move as Weasley hit him in the face. Again. Again. His eyes smarted, but he stood stoically, and it might have gone on for longer had a dark figure not approached from down the corridor.
"Weasley!"
Ron paled, and let go of Harry as Snape swept up to them.
"What on earth is going on here?"
"Potter attacked me, sir" whinged Ron. Harry remained silent, and Snape looked at him calculatingly.
"20 points from Gryffindor. Get back to your dormitories."
They fled.
***************************************************
When Harry got back to the common room, everyone was in bed, and asleep, or so he thought.
"Merlin, what happened to you?"
"Weasley"
Draco's pale face flushed with anger, an he clenched his fists, sitting up abruptly.
"You should tell Severus!"
"He knows" replied Harry flatly. "He came down the corridor and saw Weasley punching me."
"And?"
"He took 20 points from Weasley."
"WHAT? You must be kidding! He'd be going for expulsion if it was any other Gryffindor."
Draco looked grimly at Harry.
"This has to change. I'll get Marcus to have a word with him tomorrow morning."
"No! Don't!" exclaimed Harry, without really thinking. "I mean, I have to do those extra notes for him, and I can handle it myself."
Draco looked unconvinced, but eventually nodded and rolled over to sleep after wishing Harry a good night. Harry got up silently when he was sure Draco was asleep, and went down the stairs, armed with his unfinished potions notes and his clothes. He would have to get changed early so that nobody saw him.
(mutilated. . .freakish. . .unnatural. . .)
The potions was hard, and he was desperate to please Snape, so he spent the entire night poring over heavy volumes of books, trying to find information is as much detail as he could. However information was tricky to find, and he didn't understand it very well. His eyes were growing heavy and prickling from tiredness, and eventually he lay his head down to rest.
He was awoken by someone saying his name loudly by his ear. Draco. He blinked, and rubbed his eyes, raising his head and trying to ignore the dizziness it caused.
"Did you sleep down here?"
Harry nodded, and then realised he still had to deliver his notes. And he was considerably late. Snape was in his office when Harry delivered the notes, and was livid. He ordered Harry to wait in his office and read a book while Snape ate breakfast, so Harry did. Diligently. When Snape came back, however, he was fast asleep.
Snape shook Harry roughly, and was surprised when Harry flung himself desperately back, trying to avoid contact. Looking down at the shaking figure on the floor, Snape sneered.
"What are you doing, you fool?"
(fool. . .retard. . .stupid. . .only good for one thing. . .oh yeah. . .)
"I - I'm sorry!" gasped Harry, trying to prevent himself from panicking. "I didn't mean to!"
Confused, Snape sneered again.
"Oh, just get out. You're more trouble than you're worth."
Obediently Harry left, and once he was outside the office, he fled to the toilets, and threw up the little he had in his stomach, the taste of Snape's ire far more bitter than anything he could remember eating from the bin.
"I hate myself"
It was so easy, and so obvious. He repeated the words.
"I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself."
He swung his head forward, revelling in the pain that blossomed over his skull as he smacked it against the door.
"I hate myself" *crack*
"I hate myself" *crack*
"I" *crack* "hate" *crack* "myself" *crack*
And then, tears streaking down his hollowed cheeks, he crumpled to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest, and wishing for something to take him away from this place where he didn't belong, didn't fit in, wasn't liked.
"I hate myself" he whimpered, and finally, exhausted by his long night and lack of sleep, he slumped into unconsciousness.
Alright, thank you everyone for your reviews ( I love reviews. What I'm doing with this story, because it's really Harry/Draco and Harry/Snape (yes, there will be slash, Harry/Sev), is to update each chapter and switch the pairing. So the first chapter was under Harry/Draco, the second under Harry/Snape, this is under Harry/Draco. So updates will be every two days for either camp, make sense? I'm doing this because I think the story should appeal to people in either 'camp'.
By the way, blame Diagonalist for the slash. She's coming after me with spoons if I don't put any in, and I'm scared of her. I will put slash warnings on the appropriate chapters, so if that's not your thing then don't read it, I'll make sure the plot still makes sense.
A 'right' person would have got Weasley back for that statement. Would have been sorted into Gryffindor, would have been someone his dead parents would have been proud of. A 'right' person would have dodged in front of Millie to catch her. A 'right' person would have fought back against his relatives. A 'right' person would have not made their head of house angry on the very first day.
A 'right' person would not be so scared of showing his scars to his friends; his family. But Harry had changed quickly inside the curtains of his bed, ignoring the playful teasing of the other boys but feeling totally alone. He didn't know what to do; had little enough experience of the muggle world, less of the wizarding one. And Draco was so mature, so intelligent, he understood everything and it made Harry feel so stupid. And so he stood, as though praying for answers to come out of the ground. But they didn't. There was just mud.
The realisation then hit him that it was totally dark, cold and raining. He had become soaked to the skin without even noticing it, and his dark robes clung to his skin, the cold wind chilling him to the bone. He stirred his leaden legs and moved stiffly towards the castle, uncaring of the fact he had just missed dinner. He ate so little at home he knew he would just be ill if he filled his stomach. But, he thought resolutely, nobody would know. He would be strong and brave like all the other Slytherins. Honestly, everyone's parents hit them when they were bad. He knew; Vernon had told him once. He knew all the things that happened to bad children.
(Well you asked for this, you little freak. . .whore. . .well, what else are you useful for?. . .slut. . .oh god, Potter. . .oh!. . .yes. . .suck it, freak. . .Potter. . .Potter. . .filth. . .good for nothing. . .swallow it, freak. . .)
"Harry!"
Draco caught Harry's shoulder, and Harry actually screamed.
"No! Don't! Please!"
Draco released his hold and looked at his new friend.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Harry. I just. . .Merlin! Pomfrey's going to have your guts if she sees you like this!"
He quickly stripped off Harry's cloak and replaced it with his own dry one, and hustled Harry towards the dorms. Harry looked around in amazement as Slytherins of all ages crowded around.
"Merlin Potter, what happened?" asked Flint. Harry just shook his head, teeth chattering. He was quickly amazed by the way the Slytherins worked together though; from what he had heard, they were a bunch of power-craving back-stabbers. Now, they ushered him to the fire. Pansy Parkinson rubbed at his head with a towel, probably with the best intentions, but an older girl pushed her out of the way and cast a drying charm on him instead as Harry winced when the towel raked over several cuts on his scalp. Meetings with the cupboard door. Feeling blissfully warm and dry, he accepted the buttered roll that Draco passed him, and sank his teeth into it hungrily. A dark-skinned girl called Blaise who Harry remembered seeing at the sorting laughed, but not unkindly.
"You look like you haven't eaten in weeks!"
"I know, he's skeletal!" chimed in another boy.
Harry laughed, slightly nervously and shrugged.
"I just have a fast metabolism. I burn off food really quickly" he said casually. It was something he remembered Vernon saying to a visitor who had accidentally caught sight of Harry, and it seemed to work, because Flint changed the subject.
"Harry, we heard about how Severus was with you today in Potions." He paused at Harry's puzzled look. "We can call him Severus in private when we're sure nobody's listening. It's a close knit group, Slytherin, more like a family than any other house. We have to be close, because everyone sets out to victimise us. Anyway, we just wanted to say that we're happy to have you in our house. We've never seen Severus victimise another Slytherin like this, but hopefully he'll stop it soon. If he doesn't, then I'll have a word with him. But don't worry - we're all behind you."
Harry nodded brusquely, feeling a lump in his throat. If only these people knew what he was - how 'wrong' he was. What a
(waste of space. . .freak. . .layabout. . .)
When he finally snapped back into himself, he realised that the attention had left him, and now everyone was reading, playing games, or talking. The firelight played on their features, giving them eerie dark eyes and hollowed-looking cheeks. The sight wasn't frightening though, more comforting than anything. The sense of anonymity made Harry feel safe. Not protected, but safe.
However, he wanted to be alone now. He slipped out of the common room, unnoticed, and headed up to his dormitory. He needed to get changed for bed before anyone else came up, so he quickly stripped and pulled his pyjamas on, just in time, as the second the top rolled down over his torso Draco came in.
"Are you alright, Harry?" he asked.
Harry nodded and forced a smile.
"Lots of work" he said, and laid his books out of his bed. Thankfully Draco didn't press him any further - or at least not for a while. Finally growing tired of his raven-haired friend's silence, Draco stood up.
"Harry, what are you hiding? What's going on?"
"Nothing" said Harry, keeping just the right amount of confusion in his voice. "Except this potions. . .SHIT!"
Draco looked at him.
"My detention!" Harry looked up at the clock. "I have TWO MINUTES!"
And he fled.
*******************************************
When he arrived at Filch's office, he found a very grumpy Weasley waiting outside.
"It's bloody freezing down here, Potter, and it's all your fault!"
*come on, Harry. Be brave.*
"No it's not. I didn't force you to fly."
Weasley glowered, and was silent for a moment. He had just opened his overly large mouth when the door swung open and Filch grinned down nastily at them before sending them to clean the corridor. With toothbrushes. The exertion made Harry feel sick and faint, and when they were finally done and out of the dungeons he collapsed to the floor, not noticing Weasley approach from behind until he felt a sharp kick to his ribs. Pain exploded through his body, and he choked as he felt a previously knitting rib unravel into a thousand shards of metal.
Another kick, and he rolled over to face Weasley, spitting out blood. So much blood. Soaking the back of his shirt, he could feel it. Warm and sticky, clinging to his clothes. God, he hated the feel of old blood.
"Get up, scum" hissed Weasley, and Harry complied, feeling that this was right, this was what he needed. He didn't move as Weasley hit him in the face. Again. Again. His eyes smarted, but he stood stoically, and it might have gone on for longer had a dark figure not approached from down the corridor.
"Weasley!"
Ron paled, and let go of Harry as Snape swept up to them.
"What on earth is going on here?"
"Potter attacked me, sir" whinged Ron. Harry remained silent, and Snape looked at him calculatingly.
"20 points from Gryffindor. Get back to your dormitories."
They fled.
***************************************************
When Harry got back to the common room, everyone was in bed, and asleep, or so he thought.
"Merlin, what happened to you?"
"Weasley"
Draco's pale face flushed with anger, an he clenched his fists, sitting up abruptly.
"You should tell Severus!"
"He knows" replied Harry flatly. "He came down the corridor and saw Weasley punching me."
"And?"
"He took 20 points from Weasley."
"WHAT? You must be kidding! He'd be going for expulsion if it was any other Gryffindor."
Draco looked grimly at Harry.
"This has to change. I'll get Marcus to have a word with him tomorrow morning."
"No! Don't!" exclaimed Harry, without really thinking. "I mean, I have to do those extra notes for him, and I can handle it myself."
Draco looked unconvinced, but eventually nodded and rolled over to sleep after wishing Harry a good night. Harry got up silently when he was sure Draco was asleep, and went down the stairs, armed with his unfinished potions notes and his clothes. He would have to get changed early so that nobody saw him.
(mutilated. . .freakish. . .unnatural. . .)
The potions was hard, and he was desperate to please Snape, so he spent the entire night poring over heavy volumes of books, trying to find information is as much detail as he could. However information was tricky to find, and he didn't understand it very well. His eyes were growing heavy and prickling from tiredness, and eventually he lay his head down to rest.
He was awoken by someone saying his name loudly by his ear. Draco. He blinked, and rubbed his eyes, raising his head and trying to ignore the dizziness it caused.
"Did you sleep down here?"
Harry nodded, and then realised he still had to deliver his notes. And he was considerably late. Snape was in his office when Harry delivered the notes, and was livid. He ordered Harry to wait in his office and read a book while Snape ate breakfast, so Harry did. Diligently. When Snape came back, however, he was fast asleep.
Snape shook Harry roughly, and was surprised when Harry flung himself desperately back, trying to avoid contact. Looking down at the shaking figure on the floor, Snape sneered.
"What are you doing, you fool?"
(fool. . .retard. . .stupid. . .only good for one thing. . .oh yeah. . .)
"I - I'm sorry!" gasped Harry, trying to prevent himself from panicking. "I didn't mean to!"
Confused, Snape sneered again.
"Oh, just get out. You're more trouble than you're worth."
Obediently Harry left, and once he was outside the office, he fled to the toilets, and threw up the little he had in his stomach, the taste of Snape's ire far more bitter than anything he could remember eating from the bin.
"I hate myself"
It was so easy, and so obvious. He repeated the words.
"I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself."
He swung his head forward, revelling in the pain that blossomed over his skull as he smacked it against the door.
"I hate myself" *crack*
"I hate myself" *crack*
"I" *crack* "hate" *crack* "myself" *crack*
And then, tears streaking down his hollowed cheeks, he crumpled to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest, and wishing for something to take him away from this place where he didn't belong, didn't fit in, wasn't liked.
"I hate myself" he whimpered, and finally, exhausted by his long night and lack of sleep, he slumped into unconsciousness.
Alright, thank you everyone for your reviews ( I love reviews. What I'm doing with this story, because it's really Harry/Draco and Harry/Snape (yes, there will be slash, Harry/Sev), is to update each chapter and switch the pairing. So the first chapter was under Harry/Draco, the second under Harry/Snape, this is under Harry/Draco. So updates will be every two days for either camp, make sense? I'm doing this because I think the story should appeal to people in either 'camp'.
By the way, blame Diagonalist for the slash. She's coming after me with spoons if I don't put any in, and I'm scared of her. I will put slash warnings on the appropriate chapters, so if that's not your thing then don't read it, I'll make sure the plot still makes sense.
