-1
In the Maze of Mirrors
By: Jenni M.
Chapter 5: Surveys Say One Out Of Four.
Poppy's POV
I fixed up the boy to the best of my abilities, at least the physical aspects; the mental state the boy is in disturbs me greatly, and as for what Dumbledore is, planning it will only bring suffering.
I am performing the last check up before he is released and with this comes a round of questions that must be answered by every abuse victim, as it is law; not that I am not anxious to know the answers to such.
In order for these questions to be legitimate I must have a witness, Dumbledore was near kicking and screaming because I would not let him be witness, I just don't trust him with this secret as I know he will likely blab it out at the trials. I chose Severus as my witness, even though he is an ex-death-eater, I know I can trust him, if only because I have seen what he does to protect his Slytherin charges, as well as how many he has forced to seek help.
He walks in at the appointed time nine o'clock, Harry has been here for almost a week while I heal various broken bones; making sure his head injuries, and blood loss have not affected him too badly.
Harry is sitting on the end of what has now been dubbed 'his bed' makes some sense this accident-prone boy should have his own bed in here.
"Ah, Severus so nice of you to join us let us begin shall we?"
Snape's POV
As we begin I notice how nervous Potter is and suggest a calming potion, he rejects saying he wishes to be fully aware of what is going on.
"Mr. Potter, this is a standard survey for those who have been abused; I want you to answer truthfully is that understood?" He nods as answer to my question. I motion for Poppy to start.
"The first question I must ask is how long have you been aware of the abuse?" he looks slightly confused.
"I don't know exactly what you mean, do you mean how long have I been abused or how long have I known it was wrong?" this is rather unexpected.
"That is a good question; I would like you to answer both please." Poppy looked down at her paper, making a few marks and then looking back at the boy expectantly.
"Well Madame Pomfrey, I have been aware of it being wrong since my second year at Hogwarts, though I had been abused since I can remember. The first incident I remember clearly though, would be when I was four- years-old and Dudley had gotten a bag of biscuits and I had been left to watch him eat them as punishment for asking for another sandwich at lunch. I remember wanting one so bad, and all of the sudden the bag split." He takes a breath and a sip of water, and then he continues.
"My uncle was in the room at the time; he had grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and pulled me from my chair and into the hall, all the while yelling at me about how much of a freak I was. I didn't know what I had done but obviously, I had done something terrible. He had smacked me across the face and thrown me in my cupboard."
"What do you mean 'your cupboard' Harry?"
"Just what I said, my cupboard, It was where I slept until I was eleven, when I got my Hogwarts letter it was addressed to ' Harry potter, cupboard under the stairs, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.' So when I got the first letter they moved me to the smallest bedroom, or Dudley's second bedroom. I never got that letter; I didn't get any of the thousands of letters sent to me, not until Hagrid personally gave one to me." He scoffs softly.
"I shouldn't tell you this, but Hagrid tried turning Dudley into a pig, but I guess Dudley was so much like one anyways he only ended up with a tail." His laughter dies quickly as other memories come to him.
"Hagrid shouldn't have done that, because it gave Vernon more ammunition, all because they had to pay for the surgery for it to be removed. At least Petunia never hit me." The nurse's face scrunched up in concentration.
"You mentioned your aunt before Harry, can you tell me about her?" his face has a small grin, slightly humorless.
"Oh, aunt petunia is ok; she wasn't half bad when Vernon was gone. When I hadn't eaten in a while she would make me a small sandwich, and sneak it too me while I did chores, or other times when my uncle and cousin were out she would help me with my list of chores, she even gave me pain relievers when I needed them, which was often." His small sigh can barely be heard, and his smile disappearing completely.
"She was the only one in that house that understood, Dudley wasn't a nice kid never was, never will be, I remember him hitting and biting his mother, and all Vernon would do is laugh, my aunt Marge was the same way, I keep wondering if her and Vernon were twins as they both look like bearded whales." I chuckle darkly at this description, causing potter to break out of his reverie. I earned my self a glare from the nurse, as she wanted to hear more about this other aunt of Harry's.
"Harry this Aunt Marge of yours could you tell me about her."
"Oh she wasn't really my aunt she was Vernon's sister but I was forced to call her aunt; that women is vindictive. She breeds bull dogs out in the country and she comes over every few years with presents for Dudley and dog biscuits for me." I was about to ask when he answers for me.
"As I said she's vindictive, cruel, mean, take your pick. She would glare at me daring me to ask why I hadn't gotten a present, then she would have yet another reason to tell me how useless I am, she would bring her dog ripper with her when she came to privet drive. As his name suggests he is as vicious as his master, who has set him on me on more than one occasion; I still have the scars." I motion to Pomfrey that we need to stop soon nodding in agreement and continues.
"Alright Harry we are almost through just three more questions to ask you."
"I am all ears Madame Pomfrey." He answers earnestly.
"Have you ever been admitted to a muggle hospital?" he nods and then proceeds to answer.
"Yes I have once when my leg was broken after Dudley sat on it; they told the doctor that I fell out of a tree, which is what accounted for my bruises and cuts as well." Poppy nods, and continues.
"Who all would you account for as the ones to abuse you?" Harry considers for a moment then holds up three fingers, and begins to tick them off.
"First and foremost is Uncle Vernon, secondly is Dudley and last is Aunt Marge. May I go now?" We both shake our heads readying for the next question.
"The last question and then you may leave." I state with emphasis on 'then.' He nods slowly realization sinking in.
"Were you, Harry James Potter, ever at any point, sexually abused or assaulted in any way?" the cracks in the glass exploded and the glass shatters outward, and the calming potion on his bedside table has begun to boil changing from the misty lilac, to an angry red.
"Harry, could you answer Madame Pomfrey please? We won't tell anyone if you answer."
"You want the answer? Take a fucking guess. I was a good fuck that's all, blowjob machine, a whore, trash, and slut. It is what I deserve, I should have died with my parents it would have been easier, why wont any one let me die. I couldn't kill myself if I wanted the wizarding world needs me. They all think I can defeat Voldemort?" I repress a flinch, Poppy doesn't. He is standing now, walking out the door after grabbing his wand. I hear the heavy doors slam. I only now realize he did wandless magic. I look at the calming potion, which was at one point boiling, it is no longer hot, but rather a block of ice, the potion turned a frosty green, in his wake.
Harry's POV
As I walk out of the door I slam it behind me, and I begin to run to my room, I give the password and grab my journal and muggle pens, a useful gift given to me by Hermione, I stuff them into a small satchel along with a few sandwiches from my bedside table. Realizing that if I were to stay that I would have to deal with Dobby and Winky, I exit.
I turn right and walk in the direction of the great hall, once there I walk out into the cool air and down the lawns to the broom shed grabbing my broom and flying over the lake until I land on a small grassy overhang. I land swiftly before I realize the ground where I sit is taken. As I am about to remount and find another place as I hear a familiar drawl.
"Stay Potter and sit a while." I turn around broom hovering beside me. Malfoy nods to the spot beside him, on his other side I notice he also has a journal, though he has to lug around quills and ink. I sit down next to him laying down my broom, and the small satchel I brought with me. We sit for a while in silence, watching the squid's tentacles skim along the surface, glowing in the light.
After a while, I become hungry having not eaten today, I grab my satchel and pull out a sandwich. Upon seeing Malfoy's face I pull out another and offer it to him.
"What kind of sandwich is this potter?" the disgust on his face hilarious because I realize he is trying to make me laugh.
"It is bologna and cheddar cheese, is there anything wrong with that?" he pulls a face.
"Yes there is, I don't eat meat unless I know what poor animal it is coming from, let alone what parts of said animal it is." I take the sandwich out of his hands, a small smile tugging on my mouth; placing my hand over the sandwich and imagine each piece changing into what I want. Finally, I finish and open my eyes to find the Draco Malfoy with his mouth hanging open in shock, I can no longer hold in my laughter.
I hand the improved sandwich to him, once I sober.
"What kind is it now?" He asks staring at it curiously. I grin at him.
"Turkey and Swiss on rye, Better your highness?" He smirks, and nods, taking a bite out of his sandwich. Once he swallows, he turns to me sandwich still in hand.
"Hey potter, how did you do that without your wand?" I shrug.
"It is just easier, and things work better without a wand." He nods and looks at his sandwich. "So Malfoy, how come you don't hate me anymore?" I ask timidly.
"I never said I didn't hate you, but the reasons I did hate you seem obsolete now that I know the truth." I look at him and raise in eyebrow in question, seeing as I am busy chewing my sandwich. "You might want to put the glamours back up."
"You and I Mr. Potter are not as different as the world would have you think." I swallow and say what I have not told even Ron and Hermione.
"Yea, I know; the sorting hat, back in first year, wanted to put me in Slytherin. I argued until it put me in Gryffindor." He looks shocked, but then his face returns to its usual neutral façade.
"Not even that potter, though you shouldn't have argued with it, it really does know best. The reason I say we are so similar, look at our backgrounds. Just because you are 'The-Boy-Who-Lived', everyone thinks your life is easy, simple. They see everything in black and white, everyone looks at me, or rather my bank account and the façade Lucius has put up and automatically they think I have it all.
When I say our lives are not that different I mean it, I may not live with your family, and you may not live with mine, but they treat us too fucking similar for there to be a difference." My shock probably shows as he grabs his own broom and proceeds to leave.
He has been gone for a while now, I don't quite know how long but the sun is high in the sky by now and I am supposed to attend afternoon classes, namely Herbology with Prof. Sprout and Potions with Prof. Snape. My glamours slam into place.
I grab my broom and mount it, pushing off the hard earth, flying across the lake and grounds and up to the window in my room. I stumble through and grab the larger satchel next to my chair and placing my books and potions ingredients in it as well as the smaller satchel, after I enlarge the bag of course. I renew the feather-light charm on it and make my way down to lunch before Herbology.
Once I reach the dining hall, I open the doors quietly and sneak through, walking over to my usual spot in front of Ron and Hermione. I notice a few pairs of eyes on me as I start to eat the food Neville and Hermione have shoveled onto my plate. Those two always make sure I eat, and today I don't have the energy to protest, so I eat as much as I can.
The eyes I noticed earlier belong to those who were present in the hospital ward, as well as the blond I talked to earlier
I get up to leave once I assure Hermione and Neville I have eaten enough, Ron is too busy talking to Seamus about Quidditch to even notice I was there. That is fine with me; I would rather be ignored than hounded for answers.
As I walk out side towards the green houses, I notice a storm approaching, clouds black and heavy with rain waiting for release. The gusts of cool winds that precede it feel like heaven against my skin, as I make the long trek to greenhouse three, it seems we will be working with mandrakes again.
I am one of the few students there so I sit at one of the far off stools on the Gryffindor side and pull out my gloves and my textbook refreshing my memory to anything we might be covering today. Slowly the table fills and once the loud bell goes off I stop reading and look up to see Malfoy sitting across from me. Right when I am about to ask him why he left earlier Professor Sprout walks in, a big grin across her face.
"Ah welcome again to green house three my sixth year advanced students, today and next class we will be covering Bobotuber, and Mandrakes again." A groan is heard throughout the classroom, and as expected Hermione has her hand up.
"We have already covered Bobotuber plants, and Mandrake roots professor sprout." The grin Sprout wears has dimmed a bit.
"Yes I know silly girl, we are covering Mandrakes, not the roots the adolescent plant, and therefore I must place silencing charm up and ask you to wear your earmuffs, the plants will be buried today not next class though but just in case one does uproot we must make sure that no one is to be injured. Understood?" The class nods as one.
"Good, now can any one tell me why we are harvesting Bobotuber pus before we work with our mandrakes today?" Hermione, who normally is the first to raise her hand, looks confusedly at the Bobotuber plant in front of her and Ron.
I raise my hand, remembering the lesson on these particular plants we had, as well as something said in second year about the acne that adolescent mandrakes get.
"Yes Mr. Potter? " I clear my throat which has suddenly gone dry, as everyone turns to look at me. I lower my eyes hoping they'll look away.
"We are going to speed the growth of the mandrakes along, by clearing them of their acne." Her grin answers me.
"Very good five points to Gryffindor, we will be gathering the pus today and diluting it with water, next class we will be cleaning the mandrakes with it. Now off you go, get to work. Oh and the charm is specific so you can still talk." At this, she left the green house leaving us to our disgusting work, by now everyone knows how to work with Bobotuber, and that is you wear gloves get a bucket and collect the pus. The sickening squelch sound would have filled the green house were it not for the charms in place; however, no charm cast to rid the greenhouse of the heavy smell of petrol.
I grab my bucket and walk back to my work area when I realize I will be working with Malfoy.
"Hello Potter, nice day out isn't it?" as he says this, the storm broke loose overhead the chiming sound normally heard silenced as it hits the glass.
"It is beautiful." I should ask him what he meant earlier. "So why did you leave earlier? And what do you mean we are treated the same?" He looks like he is about to yell at me then sees I am just being curious, no malice there.
"I will tell you later, your friends seem intent on hearing what it is we have to say to one another." He nods his head in the direction of my side of the table, and I see what he meant, every Gryffindor in here has their gazes on us, as if trying to find reason to curse the Slytherins.
We work silently throughout class; he holds the bucket while I squeeze the plants. When the Professor returned to dismiss class, she gave the pair of us an odd smile, which for some reason made Draco turn pink.
Everyone walked to potions as a group seeing as we all had these classes together. When we got there, the door was closed and upon further inspection, we found a note telling us potions wasdelayed as our professor had some personal matters to attend to. For some reason this message, seemingly harmless, made my stomach drop, I know this is about me. I walk away and through the crowd up some stairs and into an unused corridor, I had walked all this way on my own.
I take my satchel off my shoulder and take out my journal and pen, as well as my potions kit knowing that I had a blade with me for cutting certain tough ingredients, I take the blade and study it for a moment, then run my thumb along the edge relishing in the pain and small amount blood brought forth.
I pull up my pants leg to examine at the skin that has been healed so recently, the light pink scars crossing over the pearl white ones, old scars mingle with new, and mingle with even older and wider ones of some one else's creation. I find those scars disgusting, they make me dirty, they are the ones that hurt like hell not like heaven as the ones I made do.
I take the razor sharp blade and slash across these old, old scars, cutting deeper than in the past. I mutter as I set to work on this ruined stretch of skin.
"You're a dirty whore Potter, you don't deserve their friendship, and you should have died. I wish Vernon had beaten me to death; I wish that after the first time my own uncle, or my own cousin had raped me, that they would complete the lovely job and murder me as well. I am a nothing; the wizarding world deserves a better savior, a better hero than this dirty piece of rubbish." As I mutter and the red flows my memories are jostled, the first time, or was it the hundredth time it happened.
End POV)( )( )( )( )( )( )( )( )( )( )(flashback)( )( )( )( )( )(
"YOU FREAK, JUST LIKE YOUR PARENTS, NEVER GOOD FOR ANYTHING!" Uncle Vernon's voice was booming and painfully loud. Each word separated by a kick in the stomach or a stray belt lash causing the target of this rant to scream or whimper. he screams and these ear wrenching screams fall on deaf ears, the neighbors have now grown accustomed to the screams and excepted the excuse Vernon Dursley gave them that his 'mentally unstable' nephew was having fits and that they should just ignore it to the best of their abilities.
Harry Potter the savoir of the wizarding world the cursed boy who fucking would not die... ha the thought was laughable but made Harry cry harder.
'How am I supposed to save the world when I can't even save myself god help me somebody-?'
"HELP SOMEBODY ANYBODY... "His screams diluted into pained pleading. Harry could not remember what he had done wrong but now his small body lay on the cold unforgiving tile whilst hit in every possible place his uncle's appendages could touch. 'Maybe I deserve this treatment, maybe this is what I get for Cedric's death maybe I really did kill him.'
His uncle now tired of kicking the abused form in front of him, picked up with the belt again, the buckle painfully digging into the saviors scarred back.
All the while, a completely entranced Dudley watches as his loathed cousin is beaten bloody sore and bruised. the only comfort that Harry found was that soon he would mercifully pass out... but the seconds like hours and the minutes like days hours were years of Never ending pain. Until it stopped and all that Harry could hear was the self same Vernon, walking away to a far wall leaving his son to deal with the helpless, exhausted form shivering on the kitchen floor, his skin stretched painfully across jutting bones, in a painful myriad of colors.
All that Harry heard as warning was a zipper and his pants being pulls down roughly, before the feeling of his body split in two, by what seemed like ice and fire, his cousin had been the first to penetrate him, his own cousin stole away what was never meant to be taken.
He grunted in Harry's ear, moaned loudly when he came inside his cousin, his uncle had come in front of Harry, and forced him on his knees warning him if he bit down, he would pay for it dearly. He unzipped his pants and forced the young boy to suck him off Vernon came in his mouth. Within seconds the darkness over took this bleeding form, he fell to the floor, in a merciful whim.
He had woken up in his room, his body was covered and his aunt was sitting there next to his bed, apparently Vernon and Dudley had gone out to treat them selves to some ice cream, went over to a friend's house for the evening, and left Petunia with Harry. His aunt had taken care of him until the wee hours of the morning when his uncle and cousin had returned. All the help and the bathing his aunt had helped with did no good, as Dudley and his uncle came into his room that night, and every night for the next two summers.
As Harry sat there on the cold and dust covered floor crying and bleeding arms wrapped around his shaking form. These arms felt safe, not like anyone else's, these arms smelt like cinnamon they felt warm despite how pale they were in Harry's eyes. He looked up, but knew who he would find before and for once he didn't care that it was his enemy, his opposite, his mirror, he just knew it felt right. He had found his other half, maybe Malfoy was right when he said they were not so different.
Harry snuggled further into the embrace, which shocked Draco, soon he found the dark boy asleep in his arms. Neither realized they were being watched, or that the girl watching them had a sad smile. Hermione knew they needed this, she knew they were both troubled. The problem would come when they told a certain redhead, who's attitude towards everything was that it had to fit either one category or another. He only saw things in black and white, when in reality; the world is full of grays and even a few colors here and there.