I'm about to break and can't stop this ache,
Getting nothing in return
What did I do to deserve
The pain of this slow burn
Harry stumbled into the Gryffindor bathroom and tiredly rubbed his eyes beneath the frames of his glasses. He automatically pointed his wand behind him at the door and muttered a locking spell to ensure his privacy as he made his way over to the mirrors.
He leaned forward towards his reflection and stared straight back into those accusing green eyes.
It had been over a month since he had stood in this same position in Ethan's bathroom, but to him it felt like a lifetime. A lifetime of sinking lower and lower into the black hole of abuse, of the slowly dwindling moments of tenderness and love given to him by his so-called lover, and of the sensation of being drowned in a pool of shame and deceit.
He grasped onto the moments that Ethan showed him kindness and care, and held onto them through the bouts of pain and cruelty. The good times becoming fewer and farther between.
Harry raised his arm and touched the tip of his wand to his temple.
"Finite Incantatem."
The sudden change in his appearance was startling; his previously unmarred face was now adorned with a cut and swollen lip, a black eye, and a scabbed over gash on his forehead. His eyes looked far too big for his pale face, streaked with angry red lines and an emptiness that spoke volumes.
Harry removed his glasses and watched as his reflection was reduced to a blurry mass of colours, no distinguishable marks to glare at him in accusation and remind him of what his life had become.
He felt the warm trickle of tears slip down his cheeks as he stood alone in the large empty bathroom.
He felt desperate, and yet ashamed and embarrassed at the same time. He knew that this...relationship was going to have to come to an end, yet on some level he didn't want to let go. As twisted and warped as the love he was receiving was, it was still the only kind of attention he was getting.
He slipped his glasses back into place and his vision became sharp and focused once more. Frankly, he preferred the distorted version of life rather than the one he was now staring at.
He lifted his wand and once again reinstated the concealment charm.
"When did my life become such a lie?" he asked himself aloud.
With a final sigh he wiped his eyes and turned away from the mirror. He unlocked the door with a flick of his wrist and entered the dorm room.
He walked across to his bed and grabbed the black cloak that was draped unceremoniously across it. As he roughly pulled it on his gaze settled on Ron's unmade bed and a sharp stab of regret struck his heart. His eyes darkened with sadness as he thought of the coldness that now existed between him and his former best friend. A separation that he was once glad of but now bothered him more than anything.
He didn't realize how much he would miss his two closest friends until they weren't there for him anymore, that comfort and chance to work out your problems through lengthy conversations and sympathetic hugs was now gone. A safety he missed greatly.
Harry shook his head and forced himself to turn away and leave the room.
He headed down the staircase into the Gryffindor common room and felt the familiar iciness directed towards him from the students gathered there. He ignored their glares and whispers and headed for the portrait hole.
Just as he reached it, the painting swung back and revealed Hermione standing in the corridor with an armload of books.
Hermione looked up, startled at Harry's unexpected appearance and shifted her books nervously.
Harry found himself staring transfixed into her eyes. He had forgotten how much comfort he used to find those warm brown depths. For a moment he let down his guard and the pleading desperation for help came shining through. He opened his mouth but no sound would come.
Hermione saw that Harry was about to speak to her for the first time since their argument. She saw the lost and helpless look in his eyes, and immediately prayed that he would finally tell her everything.
But Harry's mask fell back into place after a moment of indecision and he stepped past her into the corridor.
"Harry?" she called after him.
Harry's shoulders tensed as he stopped and turned to face her.
"Erm..." There was so much she wanted to say - what happened to you? Why won't you talk to us anymore? Are you alright? Why don't you eat? Why don't you sleep? Why won't you let us in? She felt like crying in frustration as she stood watching him, that mask of indifference firmly planted on his face. She wanted to rip it off and expose whatever it was that was haunting him.
But the only thing that came out was, "good luck in the game today."
Harry licked his lips and hesitated for the briefest of seconds before giving a quick nod and turning away again.
Hermione watched him walk away then stepped over the threshold into the common room and quickly strode over to Ron to tell him everything.
Harry leaned against the wall once he was out of sight of Hermione and let out a dry sob. He had teetered on the edge of telling her everything in that one moment, but the thought of telling her what Ethan was doing to him had kept his mouth firmly shut. Hermione probably wouldn't have listened to him anyway after the way he had treated her.
He was trapped and he knew it. The walls he had so carefully built up around himself not only kept people out, but also prevented him from reaching out to them as well.
At least she had wished him good luck in the game. She was the only Gryffindor that had.
Harry straightened up and glanced out the window, it was nearly time for him to get dressed for the big game. He made his way towards the Gryffindor changing rooms and mentally prepared himself for the task ahead.
. . .
Harry tried to catch Ethan's eye as he flew in slow circles away from the fast paced action of the game, but no luck, the older boy was focussing his entire attention on the game at hand.
Harry gave up and narrowed his eyes as he searched for the tell-tale flicker of gold that held his team's fate in its wings.
The score was in a dead tie, with forty points to each team.
Hermione and Ron watched Harry from the stands below. Ron had listened to Hermione, but still wasn't ready to forgive Harry for all he had said. He wanted Harry to speak first, preferably an apology, and then he would be willing to talk.
Hermione, on the other hand, was concerned for Harry, and that concern was over-riding any other hurt or angry feelings that she might have been harbouring. She had seen that look in Harry's eyes, she knew her friend needed help and was too worried or too proud to ask for it. She decided that she would have to be the one to speak first and would try and talk to him tonight.
Her attention was quickly reverted back to the game above as the students around her gasped and pointed excitedly at the sudden appearance of the golden snitch.
Draco watched with baited breath as the two seekers streaked across the pitch towards the flittering gold ball. He never ceased to be amazed at the agility and speed of Quidditch players, their fearlessness and quick thinking causing him to shake his head in wonderment. He missed playing, and it hurt to watch that bastard out there playing his position, but it had been his idea to quit and now he was stuck with it.
At least here in the crowd he could watch Harry without anyone taking notice. It was his guilty pleasure.
Harry grit his teeth and lowered his body to the handle, urging his broom to move faster. He wanted to win this game for his house, to make up in some small way for everything that he had done.
He could feel Ethan coming up close behind him.
He kept his eyes glued to the snitch and deftly followed it's every turn, matching it speed for speed. Ethan finally closed the gap between them and was flying directly beside him. Harry refused to even glance at him as he flew after the target.
The two boys reached out their arms at the same time and stretched towards the tiny flying ball.
Ethan swerved slightly and knocked his broom into Harry. Harry quickly recovered and with one final thrust of speed, pushed Ethan's hand out of the way and grabbed the snitch in his sweaty palm.
He grinned and lifted his arm in triumph, pumping his hand that held the still fluttering snitch over and over into the air. His team all cheered and smiled, seeming to forget for the moment that they were supposed to hate the Boy-Who-Lived.
Harry's smile immediately fell as he looked over at Ethan.
Ethan's eyes were glaring furiously at him, his jaw tight and tense with repressed anger.
Harry swallowed and let the snitch fall from his hand. His heart hammered in his chest and he felt a chill run through his body.
He'd never seen Ethan that angry, and he had never been as afraid of him as he was now.
Hermione snatched up her Omnoculars and trained them to Harry's floating form. She bit her lip as she saw the look on his face. There was only one word for it – scared. She tried to see what he was looking at, but he suddenly turned and headed for the grass below. She continued to watch as he quickly made his way towards the dressing rooms.
"Did you see that, Ron?"
"What?" Ron asked, rubbing his gloved hands together for warmth.
"The look on Harry's face just now, he looked scared."
"Of what?"
"I don't know." Hermione frowned.
"I think you're being paranoid." Ron smirked.
"I'm telling you, there's something going on..."
"I told you, if he wants our help then he's going to have to ask for it."
"Ron-" Hermione sighed.
"Come on, let's go."
Hermione gave up and followed Ron from the emptying stands, silently vowing to find Harry herself and make him talk to her.
. . .
Harry trudged wearily towards the broom shed. His hair still wet from his shower and his eyes downcast as he thought about Ethan. He was vainly trying to put off seeing the other boy tonight, taking as much time as he could to shower, dress, and now put his broom away.
He sighed for the hundredth time and unlocked the shed with his wand.
Someone suddenly grabbed him from behind and shoved him forwards into the darkened room.
Harry gasped in surprise and tripped over the uneven floorboards as he stumbled inside, his broom falling unnoticed to the ground along with his wand. His attacker quickly shut the door behind them and locked it with an ominous click.
"Harry."
Harry closed his eyes and almost cried.
"Harry, why would you do something like that?" Ethan asked quietly, his voice the only sound in the pitch black room.
"I...I was just playing the game," Harry answered hesitantly.
"You beat me on purpose."
"No, I mean...I-"
Harry gasped again as Ethan grabbed the front of his robes and shoved him back against the wall.
"Why would you humiliate me like that, Harry?" Ethan hissed angrily.
Harry felt a spark of anger at the unfairness of Ethan's words. "It's my job to catch the snitch, Ethan. I'm not going to just let you win."
Ethan's eyes flared in the darkness. He reached back and punched Harry in the stomach. Harry groaned and attempted to bend over to ease the pain, but Ethan slammed his head back against the solid wall.
He saw sparks before eyes as his head made contact with the wood.
"You think I need you to 'help' me win?" Ethan growled.
Harry closed his eyes and prayed for it to be over soon.
"Answer me!"
He kept his eyes closed as he replied. "No."
"That's right." Ethan accompanied his exclamation with another slam of his head against the wall.
Harry groaned and bit his tongue to keep from whimpering.
"Looks like I'm going to have to teach you a lesson so that you'll remember the next time."
Harry cried out as Ethan kicked him in the shin, then the stomach, and finally his head, as he sank to the floor in pain.
His body was bombarded with blows and kicks as he lay curled in on himself on the floor. Ethan hauled him back up and pushed him against the wall again, placing one hand tightly around his throat.
Harry choked and desperately clawed at Ethan's hand in a panic. Ethan sneered and kicked the side of Harry's knee with as much force as he could.
Harry howled in pain and fell awkwardly to the ground. He heard a loud crack as his knee became dislocated. He sat up and clutched at his deformed knee, sobbing, his hands shaking.
Ethan stared down at him with disgust. "You're pathetic, Potter."
Harry looked up through his tears and tried to make out Ethan's expression in the dark.
"You were so easy to break," he went on. "And now look at you, reduced to a crying wreck on the floor. I thought you were supposed to be a hero? You're weak and worthless, Potter, everyone can see that."
Harry gulped and looked down at the floor, the tears still falling from his eyes, his glasses lying broken and forgotten on the floor beside him.
Ethan knelt down and lifted his chin with one finger.
"Oh, and Harry? If you tell anyone about this, I'll kill them and then you. And believe me, I will find out."
Harry squeezed his eyes shut and nodded in understanding.
"Good, boy." Ethan smiled.
The last thing Harry remembered was feeling Ethan grab his arm, wrenching it behind his back, and the sickening snap of a breaking bone before he mercifully blacked out.