The first thing Harry was aware of when he woke up was laughter. And then
Snape's voice.
"What, exactly, are you doing?"
Harry scrambled to his feet and rubbed his eyes.
"I'm sorry sir, I finished my detention, but you had gone and the door was locked."
The Ravenclaws stopped laughing, and began whispering amongst themselves.
"Snape kept him in all night?"
"What sort of a detention was that?"
"What did he do?"
Snape looked at Harry curiously. Surely the boy had not spent all night cataloguing his potions? His rooms were spelled to lock themselves at 1.00am. He took in Harry's fatigue - the shadows under his eyes, the dozy look.
"You fool" he said, although not as acerbically as he might have, "When did you finish?"
"Six o'clock, sir."
Snape gaped. No, Merlin don't say that the boy had done all three cabinets? Albus would have his head. . .the second two hadn't been done for ages.
"Potter, come with me. The rest of you, get your equipment set up quickly and quietly."
Harry followed the diminutive figure through, and looked at his work. There had been so many bottles. Snape turned slowly.
"I only asked you to do one cabinet, you stupid boy!"
It was too much. Harry was shattered with exhaustion and pain, and he was completely fed up of being wrong, stupid. With a choked sob, he fled.
*********************************************************
Snape watched him go, frowning. Suddenly something seemed wrong. The boy hadn't complained about his detentions, hadn't talked back. Hadn't complained about spending 11 hours doing manual labour. Looked like he hadn't slept or eaten in weeks.
Putting his pride to one side, Severus decided to approach Harry if in a week he was still worried.
Harry discovered concealing charms, and his life suddenly became a great deal easier.
He had been working in the library (Draco always said he should have been put in Ravenclaw, he worked far harder than was necessary or indeed normal), when he had come across an interesting book.
"Cosmetic Charms for the beginner."
He looked at it curiously, wondering if there was anything that could hide his scar, and opened it. The yellowing pages crackled as he moved them. And then he found it.
"Body Concealing charm. One of the most simple yet effective charms, the strength depends on the strength of the caster. This charm will give the impression that there are no blemishes, and will last for approximately 12 hours. The incantation is very simple, and goes with the 'swish and flick' movement. Simply chant 'Secutus Hortare' followed by the part you wish to hide (in your native tongue), and the charm should work immediately. WARNING: not to be used on the face, as this charm will cause not only blemishes but also facial extremities e.g. eyes, nose, to be removed."
Harry re-read the spell, and shrugged. It didn't look too dangerous. . .
'Secutus Hortare Back' he said, slightly uncertainly, and felt a flash of magic. Quickly hurrying to the closest toilets, he craned around, wincing at the bruises he aggravated. Oh well, everything had it's price. The main thing was, no signs of his abnormality were to be seen.
*********************************************
Draco wouldn't deny that he sneaked a glance at Harry while they were changing, but he was relieved to see that Harry's back was clear, and therefore was more than willing to accept that Harry's odd behaviour had been due to illness.
That was until he was woken by Harry screaming in the middle of the night. The screams went on and on, never seeming to abate or dim. Rubbing sleep out of his eyes, Draco got up and, with the other boys, padded over to Harry's bed.
"Should we wake him?" asked Goyle
"No!" exclaimed a wiry boy called Stuart. "Waking someone up in a nightmare makes it worse for them."
"But listen to him screaming!"
They looked at each other uneasily, but were cut off by Harry's yelling suddenly stopping. They looked at him wide eyed as he lay, sweaty and entangled in the sheets, in silence for a moment, before he whispered, "No" and fell off the bed.
He woke up on the floor, and his curiously bright green eyes flickered around the room. He sat up, gasped sharply as his back protested, and lay back down again. Draco shooed the other boys away, and put a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Are you alright?"
Harry nodded, overwhelmed by his nightmare. Draco could feel him shivering underneath the thin pyjamas.
"I'm just going to get a drink" said Harry, his voice wobbly. "You guys go back to sleep."
He left, and the rest of his dormitory lay in silence for a few moments.
"Well that was like nothing I've ever seen before." said George Hilton, breaking the silence. "Do you think he's ok?"
"He's been a long time. Maybe we should go and see. . ."
"I'll go" said Draco authoritatively. "He's my friend, and he'll probably get claustrophobic with loads of people there."
Slipping his dressing gown on, he padded down the stairs, wondering where Harry was. When he was in the common, the sound of retching guided him. He found Harry in the toilets, shaking violently.
"Harry, what is it? Are you ill?"
Harry shook his head, looking determinedly at the floor.
"It was my dream" he muttered. "It was horrible. They all died?"
"Who did?"
"Quirrel. . .my parents. . ." Harry broke off to vomit, and leaned back against the tiles.
"Nothing more than I deserve" me muttered, so low that Draco almost didn't hear. Almost.
"Deserve?" he asked, disbelievingly, and Harry flinched.
"You should go, Draco. I'm not going to sleep, but you need it."
"Not until you tell me what you meant by that."
"Fuck off!" snarled Harry, his face twisted in anger. "I don't want to talk about it."
Draco flushed at being spoken to, and raised his hand. And suddenly the puzzle pieces fitted into place. Harry, who had already looked horrified and furious with himself for his words, recoiled, and began shaking.
"No, no, please don't!"
Draco lowered his hand, and looked at Harry for a long moment, then spoke angrily.
"They've been abusing you, haven't they. Those muggles. Those damn muggles have been beating you up, haven't they, Harry?"
Harry gave up all his self-restraint, and began to sob.
"I deserved it. I'm a horrible person. I don't even deserve to be alive. I'm a murderer."
"No! Don't say that! You're not, not at all."
Harry shook his head, and kept on shaking it.
"Will you let me see the damage?"
Harry undid the charm, suddenly feeling limp with physical and emotional exhaustion, and Draco sucked in his breath.
"You need to get these treated, Harry."
The dark haired boy froze and shook his head.
"No, they can't know. Please."
"Harry, you'll be in agony. Please, come with me."
"No!"
Again, terrified at his dissent, Harry cringed as though expecting a blow, and Draco realised how serious this was.
"No, Harry, it's for your own good. And if we go to Severus, he'll keep it quiet. Only him and Dumbledore will know."
"If I go to Snape, he'll put salt in the cuts, spit in my face, and tell the whole school how weak I am!"
Draco winced at the descriptive quality, but continued doggedly.
"Look, you're going to be in agony by tomorrow the way those are going. Don't be too proud to ask for help."
Reflecting on the fear in Harry's face, Draco realised he wasn't too proud, just too scared.
"Do you want me to go in and get some healing potions?"
Harry nodded, and then slumped into unconsciousness. Uncertainly, Draco pulled off his dressing gown and draped it over Harry, and then ran as quickly as he could to the passageway that led into Severus' rooms.
Inside, he had to move like a mouse. Severus, he knew, would probably kill an intruder and ask questions later, no matter if the intruder was Slytherin or Gryffindor. So, softly, he headed for the cabinets. Thankfully, they had been categorised. Annoyingly, they had been ordered by ingredient, and not by name. He swore softly, and squinted in the darkness to read the labels. He was so wrapped up in his perusal of the multi- coloured bottles that he didn't hear the approaching steps until Snape had him by the collar.
"What the hell are you doing?" he asked acidly. Draco looked away.
"Mr Malfoy, answer me. What are you doing in my personal stores at 3.00am?"
"I needed a potion. For a friend. We didn't want to disturb you. It's just a headache."
"So why didn't your friend go to Pomfrey? Honestly Draco, I'm disappointed in you. Here, sit."
He flitted around his lab, and put a glass in front of Draco.
"Veritaserum. I expect the truth from all of my Slytherins at all times. It is what keeps us together."
Draco drained the glass, knowing it would be stupid to resist.
"What potion did you want?"
"A strong pain-killer and a selection of healing potions."
"Why?"
"A friend is injured."
"Slytherin?"
"Yes"
"Why did you not tell me or Pomfrey?"
"He was too scared."
"How did the injuries occur?"
"His relatives beat him."
Snape sucked in his breath slightly, and paled.
"You are sure?"
"Yes."
"Where is the student?"
"Unconscious in the bathroom. I came as quickly as I could."
Snape was already pulling on his cloak as he fired off the last question.
"Which student is it?"
"Harry Potter"
**********************************************
Severus was confused. All he had heard jarred with what he knew. For one, Draco's consideration was unnerving. For another thing, he had always assumed Potter - no, Harry - to be coddled at home, to be loved, worshipped even. Abuse was something that had not crossed his mind. However. . .the signs were there. The quietness and jumpiness, the mindless obedience. Nobody was that good without having it beaten into them.
And so he hurried, following Draco, to where they found Harry. Severus wrinkled his nose at the revolting smell of vomit, and gestured to Draco to flush the offending toilet. Over the sound of the water, he said,
"I'll keep Harry in my rooms tonight. Get some sleep now, you've done all you can. He'll be alright, just exhaustion."
Draco nodded, exhausted himself, and went up to bed, mind busy with the implications of what he had found out that night.
Meanwhile, Severus cast a mobilicorpus on Harry and strode towards his chambers, the small boy floating next to him. When they were finally inside, Severus gently manoeuvred Harry to the sofa in his sitting room, where he saw any Slytherin who needed help, and laid him down.
"Let's see" he murmered, dispelling Harry's robes. Seeing, he quickly squeezed his eyes shut and took a few deep breaths. How anyone could have done this to a mere child. . .he had assumed it had been a few slaps here and there, nothing like this.
Finally, when he had steeled himself, he opened his eyes slowly, ignoring the moisture pooling in the corners. Pulling himself together, he began to search for the best healing potions he possessed, and a strong painkiller. As an afterthought he picked up a vial of Dreamless Sleep, knowing that Harry would be needing it that night.
Eyes hooded with anger at himself for being so blind, he walked over to the boy, and began to heal him. It was the least he could do, he thought, for being such an ignorant bastard.
***************************************************
Harry woke up feeling more relaxed than he had in ages. The room he was in smelled of lemongrass and crushed leaves, and he was lying face-down on a comfortable sofa. Strong hands were rubbing his back back and fore, and occasionally the thumbs would move in circles over his shoulder blades. As a haze of sleep tried to overtake his senses, he had only the time to wonder why it wasn't hurting his injuries, and then he drifted off into a blissfully dreamless sleep.
"What, exactly, are you doing?"
Harry scrambled to his feet and rubbed his eyes.
"I'm sorry sir, I finished my detention, but you had gone and the door was locked."
The Ravenclaws stopped laughing, and began whispering amongst themselves.
"Snape kept him in all night?"
"What sort of a detention was that?"
"What did he do?"
Snape looked at Harry curiously. Surely the boy had not spent all night cataloguing his potions? His rooms were spelled to lock themselves at 1.00am. He took in Harry's fatigue - the shadows under his eyes, the dozy look.
"You fool" he said, although not as acerbically as he might have, "When did you finish?"
"Six o'clock, sir."
Snape gaped. No, Merlin don't say that the boy had done all three cabinets? Albus would have his head. . .the second two hadn't been done for ages.
"Potter, come with me. The rest of you, get your equipment set up quickly and quietly."
Harry followed the diminutive figure through, and looked at his work. There had been so many bottles. Snape turned slowly.
"I only asked you to do one cabinet, you stupid boy!"
It was too much. Harry was shattered with exhaustion and pain, and he was completely fed up of being wrong, stupid. With a choked sob, he fled.
*********************************************************
Snape watched him go, frowning. Suddenly something seemed wrong. The boy hadn't complained about his detentions, hadn't talked back. Hadn't complained about spending 11 hours doing manual labour. Looked like he hadn't slept or eaten in weeks.
Putting his pride to one side, Severus decided to approach Harry if in a week he was still worried.
Harry discovered concealing charms, and his life suddenly became a great deal easier.
He had been working in the library (Draco always said he should have been put in Ravenclaw, he worked far harder than was necessary or indeed normal), when he had come across an interesting book.
"Cosmetic Charms for the beginner."
He looked at it curiously, wondering if there was anything that could hide his scar, and opened it. The yellowing pages crackled as he moved them. And then he found it.
"Body Concealing charm. One of the most simple yet effective charms, the strength depends on the strength of the caster. This charm will give the impression that there are no blemishes, and will last for approximately 12 hours. The incantation is very simple, and goes with the 'swish and flick' movement. Simply chant 'Secutus Hortare' followed by the part you wish to hide (in your native tongue), and the charm should work immediately. WARNING: not to be used on the face, as this charm will cause not only blemishes but also facial extremities e.g. eyes, nose, to be removed."
Harry re-read the spell, and shrugged. It didn't look too dangerous. . .
'Secutus Hortare Back' he said, slightly uncertainly, and felt a flash of magic. Quickly hurrying to the closest toilets, he craned around, wincing at the bruises he aggravated. Oh well, everything had it's price. The main thing was, no signs of his abnormality were to be seen.
*********************************************
Draco wouldn't deny that he sneaked a glance at Harry while they were changing, but he was relieved to see that Harry's back was clear, and therefore was more than willing to accept that Harry's odd behaviour had been due to illness.
That was until he was woken by Harry screaming in the middle of the night. The screams went on and on, never seeming to abate or dim. Rubbing sleep out of his eyes, Draco got up and, with the other boys, padded over to Harry's bed.
"Should we wake him?" asked Goyle
"No!" exclaimed a wiry boy called Stuart. "Waking someone up in a nightmare makes it worse for them."
"But listen to him screaming!"
They looked at each other uneasily, but were cut off by Harry's yelling suddenly stopping. They looked at him wide eyed as he lay, sweaty and entangled in the sheets, in silence for a moment, before he whispered, "No" and fell off the bed.
He woke up on the floor, and his curiously bright green eyes flickered around the room. He sat up, gasped sharply as his back protested, and lay back down again. Draco shooed the other boys away, and put a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Are you alright?"
Harry nodded, overwhelmed by his nightmare. Draco could feel him shivering underneath the thin pyjamas.
"I'm just going to get a drink" said Harry, his voice wobbly. "You guys go back to sleep."
He left, and the rest of his dormitory lay in silence for a few moments.
"Well that was like nothing I've ever seen before." said George Hilton, breaking the silence. "Do you think he's ok?"
"He's been a long time. Maybe we should go and see. . ."
"I'll go" said Draco authoritatively. "He's my friend, and he'll probably get claustrophobic with loads of people there."
Slipping his dressing gown on, he padded down the stairs, wondering where Harry was. When he was in the common, the sound of retching guided him. He found Harry in the toilets, shaking violently.
"Harry, what is it? Are you ill?"
Harry shook his head, looking determinedly at the floor.
"It was my dream" he muttered. "It was horrible. They all died?"
"Who did?"
"Quirrel. . .my parents. . ." Harry broke off to vomit, and leaned back against the tiles.
"Nothing more than I deserve" me muttered, so low that Draco almost didn't hear. Almost.
"Deserve?" he asked, disbelievingly, and Harry flinched.
"You should go, Draco. I'm not going to sleep, but you need it."
"Not until you tell me what you meant by that."
"Fuck off!" snarled Harry, his face twisted in anger. "I don't want to talk about it."
Draco flushed at being spoken to, and raised his hand. And suddenly the puzzle pieces fitted into place. Harry, who had already looked horrified and furious with himself for his words, recoiled, and began shaking.
"No, no, please don't!"
Draco lowered his hand, and looked at Harry for a long moment, then spoke angrily.
"They've been abusing you, haven't they. Those muggles. Those damn muggles have been beating you up, haven't they, Harry?"
Harry gave up all his self-restraint, and began to sob.
"I deserved it. I'm a horrible person. I don't even deserve to be alive. I'm a murderer."
"No! Don't say that! You're not, not at all."
Harry shook his head, and kept on shaking it.
"Will you let me see the damage?"
Harry undid the charm, suddenly feeling limp with physical and emotional exhaustion, and Draco sucked in his breath.
"You need to get these treated, Harry."
The dark haired boy froze and shook his head.
"No, they can't know. Please."
"Harry, you'll be in agony. Please, come with me."
"No!"
Again, terrified at his dissent, Harry cringed as though expecting a blow, and Draco realised how serious this was.
"No, Harry, it's for your own good. And if we go to Severus, he'll keep it quiet. Only him and Dumbledore will know."
"If I go to Snape, he'll put salt in the cuts, spit in my face, and tell the whole school how weak I am!"
Draco winced at the descriptive quality, but continued doggedly.
"Look, you're going to be in agony by tomorrow the way those are going. Don't be too proud to ask for help."
Reflecting on the fear in Harry's face, Draco realised he wasn't too proud, just too scared.
"Do you want me to go in and get some healing potions?"
Harry nodded, and then slumped into unconsciousness. Uncertainly, Draco pulled off his dressing gown and draped it over Harry, and then ran as quickly as he could to the passageway that led into Severus' rooms.
Inside, he had to move like a mouse. Severus, he knew, would probably kill an intruder and ask questions later, no matter if the intruder was Slytherin or Gryffindor. So, softly, he headed for the cabinets. Thankfully, they had been categorised. Annoyingly, they had been ordered by ingredient, and not by name. He swore softly, and squinted in the darkness to read the labels. He was so wrapped up in his perusal of the multi- coloured bottles that he didn't hear the approaching steps until Snape had him by the collar.
"What the hell are you doing?" he asked acidly. Draco looked away.
"Mr Malfoy, answer me. What are you doing in my personal stores at 3.00am?"
"I needed a potion. For a friend. We didn't want to disturb you. It's just a headache."
"So why didn't your friend go to Pomfrey? Honestly Draco, I'm disappointed in you. Here, sit."
He flitted around his lab, and put a glass in front of Draco.
"Veritaserum. I expect the truth from all of my Slytherins at all times. It is what keeps us together."
Draco drained the glass, knowing it would be stupid to resist.
"What potion did you want?"
"A strong pain-killer and a selection of healing potions."
"Why?"
"A friend is injured."
"Slytherin?"
"Yes"
"Why did you not tell me or Pomfrey?"
"He was too scared."
"How did the injuries occur?"
"His relatives beat him."
Snape sucked in his breath slightly, and paled.
"You are sure?"
"Yes."
"Where is the student?"
"Unconscious in the bathroom. I came as quickly as I could."
Snape was already pulling on his cloak as he fired off the last question.
"Which student is it?"
"Harry Potter"
**********************************************
Severus was confused. All he had heard jarred with what he knew. For one, Draco's consideration was unnerving. For another thing, he had always assumed Potter - no, Harry - to be coddled at home, to be loved, worshipped even. Abuse was something that had not crossed his mind. However. . .the signs were there. The quietness and jumpiness, the mindless obedience. Nobody was that good without having it beaten into them.
And so he hurried, following Draco, to where they found Harry. Severus wrinkled his nose at the revolting smell of vomit, and gestured to Draco to flush the offending toilet. Over the sound of the water, he said,
"I'll keep Harry in my rooms tonight. Get some sleep now, you've done all you can. He'll be alright, just exhaustion."
Draco nodded, exhausted himself, and went up to bed, mind busy with the implications of what he had found out that night.
Meanwhile, Severus cast a mobilicorpus on Harry and strode towards his chambers, the small boy floating next to him. When they were finally inside, Severus gently manoeuvred Harry to the sofa in his sitting room, where he saw any Slytherin who needed help, and laid him down.
"Let's see" he murmered, dispelling Harry's robes. Seeing, he quickly squeezed his eyes shut and took a few deep breaths. How anyone could have done this to a mere child. . .he had assumed it had been a few slaps here and there, nothing like this.
Finally, when he had steeled himself, he opened his eyes slowly, ignoring the moisture pooling in the corners. Pulling himself together, he began to search for the best healing potions he possessed, and a strong painkiller. As an afterthought he picked up a vial of Dreamless Sleep, knowing that Harry would be needing it that night.
Eyes hooded with anger at himself for being so blind, he walked over to the boy, and began to heal him. It was the least he could do, he thought, for being such an ignorant bastard.
***************************************************
Harry woke up feeling more relaxed than he had in ages. The room he was in smelled of lemongrass and crushed leaves, and he was lying face-down on a comfortable sofa. Strong hands were rubbing his back back and fore, and occasionally the thumbs would move in circles over his shoulder blades. As a haze of sleep tried to overtake his senses, he had only the time to wonder why it wasn't hurting his injuries, and then he drifted off into a blissfully dreamless sleep.
