Chapter 13 - Dealing
"Well, this sucks," Harry muttered as he poked at his breakfast.
"A whole week with Filch," Ron scowled.
"A whole week with Trelawney," Hermione sighed.
"You guys are lucky compared to me with Snape," Harry groaned. The three discontented Gryffindors were talking of their most recent and horrible detentions. Their visit down to Hagrid's the night prior did not go as they intended it to. Sure, they reached Hagrid's hut without problem. A few close encounters with teachers and a certain irritating cat, as was usual. And as they had thought, Remus was not there. Hagrid invited the trio inside happily and set to making tea while they talked. It was only a few minutes that they were there when their visit was cut short.
"Quick, you lot! Ge' back under tha' cloak of yers. Some un's comin up here," Hagrid ushered them to a corner and they covered with Harry's cloak. A minute later, there was a knock at the door and when Hagrid opened it, it was, of course, Remus Lupin. "Ello Remus!" Hagrid greeted him.
"Hello Hagrid. Glad to see you made it alright," Remus said.
For two very long, very uncomfortable hours, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood not moving and barely breathing while Remus continued to talk with Hagrid. Finally as the second hour came to an end, Remus got to his feet.
"I should be going, now. It was good to see you, Hagrid," he said.
"Good ta see ya, too, Remus," Hagrid said. Remus pulled open the door and was about to leave, but he turned around.
"Oh, and before I forget. I need to give these to Ron, Harry, and Hermione," he strode over to the corner where Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood and pulled the invisibility cloak off of them, "It's your detention notices. A week each, for sneaking out after curfew when a teacher told you not to directly." How Remus had known they were there, he didn't say. He only gave them their letters and left. Now they sat miserably, talking about who had it worst. Ron was all for Harry's with Snape, but Hermione was sure that spending a few hours every night with Professor Trelawney would be no treat.
"I think he personalized these detentions so that we'd each have the worst," Hermione said.
"How nice of him," Harry said sarcastically.
"And right before Christmas break, too," Ron said.
"Let's move to that more cheerful topic. Christmas break," Hermione suggested.
"Mum wrote to say we're staying at Grimmauld Place this year, again," Ron said.
"So are we," Hermione said. Harry nodded mutely. He still felt as though it was his fault that his friends were in danger and had to spend their holidays at Grimmauld place rather than their own homes.
"We'll have a house full this year. Mum invited Remus to stay. And Tonks is coming, too. She usually spends Christmas with her mother, but, well, that attack in October..." Ron trailed off.
"Will all of your family be there?" Hermione asked, in an attempt to keep the conversation light.
"Bill's coming with his new girlfriend. He wouldn't say who it is. Charlie's already there. Ginny, Fred, and George will definitely be there. And that's all of the Weasley's. At least the ones I consider family," Ron said and gritted his teeth as he added, "Percy had better not show up." "He still didn't apologize?" Harry asked.
"No," Ron said shortly.
"It will be nice if everyone makes up, though," Hermione said. Ron huffed. "I don't think I'd ever like to see him again," he muttered.
"So we'll have a lot of people at Grimmauld Place. Well, this Christmas will be nice, with everyone there," Hermione tried to bring the talk back to cheerfulness once again.
"Almost everyone," Harry muttered. It seemed that this conversation was doomed to be disheartening. Hermione, realizing this, gave up and suggested they go to class.
That evening, Harry, Ron, and Hermione grudgingly left the cheerful atmosphere of the Gryffindor common room to go to their first night of Detention. "Have fun," Ron said with a grin as Harry turned to go to the Dungeons.
"You too," Harry said. He made his way down to the dungeons, which were as cold as always. Harry stopped outside Snape's office and was about to knock when he heard voices come from inside. The door was cracked open a fraction of an inch.
"You'll be of age in only a few months," came Snape's voice It didn't carry that usual icy, sarcastic tone.
"I know, Severus," it was Malfoy that spoke. Since when was Malfoy on first name basis with Snape? Harry wondered.
"When you come of age, you'll need to choose whether or not you join the Dark Lord," Snape said.
"I've told you I have already chosen. I'm going to join him," Malfoy answered confidently. "That is your choice. I would rather if you did not but I will not be the one to stop you," Snape said.
"And you won't tell Dumbledore or any others of the Order?" Malfoy asked.
"I won't," Snape sighed. Harry couldn't believe it. Snape knew Malfoy was about to become a Death Eater and he was doing nothing about it. He knew Snape favored Malfoy but to turn a blind eye to this was going too far. Snape was keeping information of students joining Voldemort from Dumbledore.
"I have to go now," Malfoy said. Harry quickly ducked into the shadows as not to be seen eavesdropping by either of them. He watched as Malfoy came out of Snape's office and strode down the hall. Harry waited a minute before knocking on the door to Snape's office.
"Enter," Snape said, his icy tone back. Harry did as he was told.
"Can't go very long without detention, can you?" he asked.
"Apparently not," Harry snapped.
"Watch your tone, Potter. You still have five nights of detention with me," Snape said threateningly, "Today, you can measure and bottle my stock of ground rat eyes."
Snape pointed to a huge barrel with a stack of lsmall jars beside it. Harry scowled. This evening wasn't going to be a pleasant one. After what seemed to be ages spent in the cold dungeon room, Harry left to go back to the common room. He didn't know what time it was, probably early morning. He hoped Ron and Hermione were up so he could tell them what he overheard. Sure enough, when he got back, Hermione was waiting in the common room and Ron came in right after Harry.
"Filch has to be the biggest dick head," Ron muttered, along with a few other rather creative names for the caretaker.
"I'll bet you had a good time compared to me. I had to listen to the old fraud predict the next five years of my life and tell me how I don't have the inner eye while I polished about a hundred crystal balls," Hermione said.
"Trust me, Hermione. Mine was worse," Ron said.
"Ok. You both had shitty detentions. Now listen to what I overheard in Snape's office," Harry said, easily getting their attention.
"What?" Ron asked.
"Snape and Malfoy were in his office talking. I stopped outside and heard Snape say that Malfoy has to choose whether or not he was going to join to join Voldemort," Harry said, "And Malfoy said he was--"
"I told you Snape was in with Voldemort!" Ron said.
"No. He didn't want Malfoy to join. But he said he wouldn't turn Malfoy in," Harry explained, "So he's keeping it from Dumbledore that students are joining Voldemort."
"Are you sure you heard it right? I mean Dumbledore trusts him," Hermione said.
"Hermione! How can you still stick up for that git? It's plain that he can't be trusted. I'll bet he's encouraging students to join You-Know-Who," Ron said.
"We have to tell Dumbledore," Hermione said.
Harry shook his head, "Like you said, Dumbledore trusts Snape. He'll think I just misheard or something. Besides he has more important things to deal with. And Malfoy didn't even get the Dark Mark yet. He can't until he's of age."
"Okay, but if we find anything more, then we're telling Dumbledore," Hermione said.
"Fine," Harry agreed.
"I'm tired. I'm going to bed," Hermione said.
"Time is it?" Ron asked and yawned.
"Going for two in the morning. That means Charms in only a few hours," Hermione said.
"Ah, shit. Charms," Harry muttered.
"Charms isn't that bad. Be glad it's not Potions," Ron said.
"Not that. I forgot to do the Charms homework," Harry said.
"You mean that five foot essay he assigned three weeks ago?" Hermione asked.
"Wait a minute. That's due tomorrow?" Ron moaned.
"Yes. Well, you two will have a nice night, I expect," she said.
"Come on, Hermione! Just let us look at yours. You don't want that feeling of guilt when we fail, do you?" Ron asked.
"I don't mind," she shrugged.
"Please, Hermione," Harry pleaded.
"Goodnight," she answered.
"Let's get started then. Maybe we could get done in time to at least get a little sleep," Harry said.
"You go ahead and keep thinking that," Ron said sarcastically.
The next morning, Harry woke to find himself in the common room, with a Charms book and his nearly finished essay in his lap. HE sat up and stretched, trying to ignore his stiff neck. Ron was in the chair next to him, snoring. He was sprawled out, taking up two chairs. his quill still in his hand and a bottle of ink spilt in his lap.
"Hey, Ron! Get up!" Harry said loudly. Ron grunted in response.
"You have to get up," Harry said. "Later," was the low reply.
"Fine. Miss today's Quidditch game," Harry said.
"The game? It's today?" Ron asked frantically. He rolled over, resulting in him falling onto the floor head first.
"Nope. Just Charms," Harry said, with a yawn.
"Great," Ron muttered, rubbing his head.
"Morning Ron, Harry," Hermione said as she entered came down the girls dormitory stairs.
"Morning Hermione," they both greeted. She picked up their essays and looked at them.
"You've got about fifteen minutes until class starts, you know," she said, handing the essays back.
Harry grabbed his quill and began to hurriedly scribble anything on his essay to finish it. Ron was doing the same.
"Seven more inches," he muttered as he measured his parchment.
"Here," Hermione sighed. She handed Ron her essay.
"Oh, thanks, Mione!" Ron said as he began copying random lines of hers into his own, Harry doing the same. "Mine's an inch and a half short. But it will have to do," Harry said.
"Mine's three," Ron said.
"Come on," Hermione said. She took her essay and shoved it into her bag. Ron and Harry followed.
"Nice shirt, Ron," Hermione grinned as they hurried to the Charms classroom. Ron looked down to see the ink stain across it.
"Figures," he muttered.
Charms turned out to be boring that day. Professor Flitwick collected their essays and gave notes for the rest of class. Harry and Ron occasionally nodded off and occasionally actually took notes while Hermione tutted disapprovingly. Halfway through class, Harry couldn't take it any longer. He put his head down in his arms on the desk. He couldn't muster the strength to keep his eyes open any longer and was asleep in seconds.
Harry was walking through a place he visited only too often, a silent dark graveyard. Everything was silent. It seemed he wasn't in control of his legs. He didn't want to go where they were taking him. He knew what he would find there and didn't want to. A gold shimmer could be seen a few feet away. The Triwizard Cup. Beside it was the body of Cedric Diggory. Harry tried to close his unwilling eyes. Cedric's skin was sickeningly pale and his eyes sunken in. The lifelessness of him made Harry sick. When he was mere inches from the body, Cedric's eyes snapped open. If Harry was in control of his own body, he'd have jumped. It was the first time in this consistent dream, no, nightmare, that that had ever happened.
"Nice one, Harry. With you around killing everyone off, we won't need any Death Eaters. You seem to be doing a good job of it yourself," it was Sirius's voice that came out of Cedric's mouth. But not his usual voice. This one was cold and angry, "So who's next? You already tried to get your friends killed." The voice turned into Dumbledore's, "Maybe you should try again. You got Sirius and Cedric." "No, I didn't mean to," Harry pleaded.
"Murderer," the voice said icily.
"I am not!" he yelled. The scene turned to blackness and the next moment he opened his eyes to see Ron's face looming in front of him.
"Shit, Harry, you alright?" he asked.
"Son of a bitch," Harry cursed under his breath. Not for the first time, he had a class full of students looking at him like he was crazy. To top it off, it was a double class with the Slytherins. He could see a few of them already starting to laugh.
"Mr. Potter, are you alright?" Professor Flitwick asked.
"Fine," he snapped. He got to his feet, silently cursing himself for falling asleep in class and letting the dream get to him. He hadn't had one of those nightmares in weeks. Why did it have to come when he was in the middle of a class?
"Maybe you should go to the Hospital Wing," Professor Flitwick suggested.
"Yeah, sure," Harry muttered. He grabbed his stuff from the desk, ignoring Malfoy's whispered gibes and left the classroom, without any intention at all of going to the Hospital Wing.
"Class skipping becoming a habit?" Fred asked when Harry entered the Gryffindor common room. Harry said nothing as he passed and climbed the stairs to his dormitory.
He sat on the floor against his four poster bed. Sitting there with nothing to occupy his mind, Harry's thoughts fell to Christmas. Christmas without his Godfather. No matter how hard he tried to believe everyone else that it wasn't his fault, he still felt it was. If he had just believed Hermione that Voldemort was tricking him. If he hadn't believed Kreacher. If only he had used that mirror. For once, possibly the first time ever, he didn't let his curiosity get the better of him with that package Sirius gave him last Christmas and look how that worked out. He opened his trunk in search of his photo album. As he dug into the mess of clothes and books inside, he felt a sharp pain in his index finger. He pulled his hand out quickly. A large shard of glass was jabbed into the side of his finger. He pulled it out. It was piece of the mirror he smashed at the end of last year. The one from Sirius. He watched the blood slowly drip down into his palm.
Harry held the piece of shattered mirror in front of him. He didn't know where the idea came from, but that it was all he wanted at the moment. He'd heard of it once or twice, but never thought about it. After taking a moment to contemplate it, he pushed up his sleeve and held the small piece of glass to his arm, Not where it would kill him. He didn't mean to kill himself, just to cut. He still had a Dark Lord to defeat. Or be defeated by, he reminded himself. Harry pulled the glass across his skin and felt, as if for that moment, everything was forgotten. A thin line of blood appeared across the top of his forearm. He cut again, this time deeper. And a third time. It felt as though with each cut, his problems faded. Here was one, possibly the only pain, no matter how small, in his life that he could control. As he cut, the only thing he thought about was the pain. All other thoughts were wiped away for the time.
He dropped the glass after a fourth cut and looked at the damage he'd done with the glass. Blood ran down his arm. He watched it gush for a moment before stemming the flow with an old t-shirt from his trunk. He leaned his head back against his bed, feeling a bit dizzy. Once the blood flow stopped, Harry shoved the now crimson shirt into the bottom of his trunk along with the glass, and pulled the long sleeves of his school robes down to cover the slashes in his arms. He wasn't about to let anyone find out what he did. They'd probably send him off to some special ward at St. Mungo's. He wondered what others would say if they found out. The media would have a field day if they ever discovered out what famous Harry Potter did to himself. He knew he shouldn't have done it but yet he didn't regret doing it. It was just his way to deal.
"Well, this sucks," Harry muttered as he poked at his breakfast.
"A whole week with Filch," Ron scowled.
"A whole week with Trelawney," Hermione sighed.
"You guys are lucky compared to me with Snape," Harry groaned. The three discontented Gryffindors were talking of their most recent and horrible detentions. Their visit down to Hagrid's the night prior did not go as they intended it to. Sure, they reached Hagrid's hut without problem. A few close encounters with teachers and a certain irritating cat, as was usual. And as they had thought, Remus was not there. Hagrid invited the trio inside happily and set to making tea while they talked. It was only a few minutes that they were there when their visit was cut short.
"Quick, you lot! Ge' back under tha' cloak of yers. Some un's comin up here," Hagrid ushered them to a corner and they covered with Harry's cloak. A minute later, there was a knock at the door and when Hagrid opened it, it was, of course, Remus Lupin. "Ello Remus!" Hagrid greeted him.
"Hello Hagrid. Glad to see you made it alright," Remus said.
For two very long, very uncomfortable hours, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood not moving and barely breathing while Remus continued to talk with Hagrid. Finally as the second hour came to an end, Remus got to his feet.
"I should be going, now. It was good to see you, Hagrid," he said.
"Good ta see ya, too, Remus," Hagrid said. Remus pulled open the door and was about to leave, but he turned around.
"Oh, and before I forget. I need to give these to Ron, Harry, and Hermione," he strode over to the corner where Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood and pulled the invisibility cloak off of them, "It's your detention notices. A week each, for sneaking out after curfew when a teacher told you not to directly." How Remus had known they were there, he didn't say. He only gave them their letters and left. Now they sat miserably, talking about who had it worst. Ron was all for Harry's with Snape, but Hermione was sure that spending a few hours every night with Professor Trelawney would be no treat.
"I think he personalized these detentions so that we'd each have the worst," Hermione said.
"How nice of him," Harry said sarcastically.
"And right before Christmas break, too," Ron said.
"Let's move to that more cheerful topic. Christmas break," Hermione suggested.
"Mum wrote to say we're staying at Grimmauld Place this year, again," Ron said.
"So are we," Hermione said. Harry nodded mutely. He still felt as though it was his fault that his friends were in danger and had to spend their holidays at Grimmauld place rather than their own homes.
"We'll have a house full this year. Mum invited Remus to stay. And Tonks is coming, too. She usually spends Christmas with her mother, but, well, that attack in October..." Ron trailed off.
"Will all of your family be there?" Hermione asked, in an attempt to keep the conversation light.
"Bill's coming with his new girlfriend. He wouldn't say who it is. Charlie's already there. Ginny, Fred, and George will definitely be there. And that's all of the Weasley's. At least the ones I consider family," Ron said and gritted his teeth as he added, "Percy had better not show up." "He still didn't apologize?" Harry asked.
"No," Ron said shortly.
"It will be nice if everyone makes up, though," Hermione said. Ron huffed. "I don't think I'd ever like to see him again," he muttered.
"So we'll have a lot of people at Grimmauld Place. Well, this Christmas will be nice, with everyone there," Hermione tried to bring the talk back to cheerfulness once again.
"Almost everyone," Harry muttered. It seemed that this conversation was doomed to be disheartening. Hermione, realizing this, gave up and suggested they go to class.
That evening, Harry, Ron, and Hermione grudgingly left the cheerful atmosphere of the Gryffindor common room to go to their first night of Detention. "Have fun," Ron said with a grin as Harry turned to go to the Dungeons.
"You too," Harry said. He made his way down to the dungeons, which were as cold as always. Harry stopped outside Snape's office and was about to knock when he heard voices come from inside. The door was cracked open a fraction of an inch.
"You'll be of age in only a few months," came Snape's voice It didn't carry that usual icy, sarcastic tone.
"I know, Severus," it was Malfoy that spoke. Since when was Malfoy on first name basis with Snape? Harry wondered.
"When you come of age, you'll need to choose whether or not you join the Dark Lord," Snape said.
"I've told you I have already chosen. I'm going to join him," Malfoy answered confidently. "That is your choice. I would rather if you did not but I will not be the one to stop you," Snape said.
"And you won't tell Dumbledore or any others of the Order?" Malfoy asked.
"I won't," Snape sighed. Harry couldn't believe it. Snape knew Malfoy was about to become a Death Eater and he was doing nothing about it. He knew Snape favored Malfoy but to turn a blind eye to this was going too far. Snape was keeping information of students joining Voldemort from Dumbledore.
"I have to go now," Malfoy said. Harry quickly ducked into the shadows as not to be seen eavesdropping by either of them. He watched as Malfoy came out of Snape's office and strode down the hall. Harry waited a minute before knocking on the door to Snape's office.
"Enter," Snape said, his icy tone back. Harry did as he was told.
"Can't go very long without detention, can you?" he asked.
"Apparently not," Harry snapped.
"Watch your tone, Potter. You still have five nights of detention with me," Snape said threateningly, "Today, you can measure and bottle my stock of ground rat eyes."
Snape pointed to a huge barrel with a stack of lsmall jars beside it. Harry scowled. This evening wasn't going to be a pleasant one. After what seemed to be ages spent in the cold dungeon room, Harry left to go back to the common room. He didn't know what time it was, probably early morning. He hoped Ron and Hermione were up so he could tell them what he overheard. Sure enough, when he got back, Hermione was waiting in the common room and Ron came in right after Harry.
"Filch has to be the biggest dick head," Ron muttered, along with a few other rather creative names for the caretaker.
"I'll bet you had a good time compared to me. I had to listen to the old fraud predict the next five years of my life and tell me how I don't have the inner eye while I polished about a hundred crystal balls," Hermione said.
"Trust me, Hermione. Mine was worse," Ron said.
"Ok. You both had shitty detentions. Now listen to what I overheard in Snape's office," Harry said, easily getting their attention.
"What?" Ron asked.
"Snape and Malfoy were in his office talking. I stopped outside and heard Snape say that Malfoy has to choose whether or not he was going to join to join Voldemort," Harry said, "And Malfoy said he was--"
"I told you Snape was in with Voldemort!" Ron said.
"No. He didn't want Malfoy to join. But he said he wouldn't turn Malfoy in," Harry explained, "So he's keeping it from Dumbledore that students are joining Voldemort."
"Are you sure you heard it right? I mean Dumbledore trusts him," Hermione said.
"Hermione! How can you still stick up for that git? It's plain that he can't be trusted. I'll bet he's encouraging students to join You-Know-Who," Ron said.
"We have to tell Dumbledore," Hermione said.
Harry shook his head, "Like you said, Dumbledore trusts Snape. He'll think I just misheard or something. Besides he has more important things to deal with. And Malfoy didn't even get the Dark Mark yet. He can't until he's of age."
"Okay, but if we find anything more, then we're telling Dumbledore," Hermione said.
"Fine," Harry agreed.
"I'm tired. I'm going to bed," Hermione said.
"Time is it?" Ron asked and yawned.
"Going for two in the morning. That means Charms in only a few hours," Hermione said.
"Ah, shit. Charms," Harry muttered.
"Charms isn't that bad. Be glad it's not Potions," Ron said.
"Not that. I forgot to do the Charms homework," Harry said.
"You mean that five foot essay he assigned three weeks ago?" Hermione asked.
"Wait a minute. That's due tomorrow?" Ron moaned.
"Yes. Well, you two will have a nice night, I expect," she said.
"Come on, Hermione! Just let us look at yours. You don't want that feeling of guilt when we fail, do you?" Ron asked.
"I don't mind," she shrugged.
"Please, Hermione," Harry pleaded.
"Goodnight," she answered.
"Let's get started then. Maybe we could get done in time to at least get a little sleep," Harry said.
"You go ahead and keep thinking that," Ron said sarcastically.
The next morning, Harry woke to find himself in the common room, with a Charms book and his nearly finished essay in his lap. HE sat up and stretched, trying to ignore his stiff neck. Ron was in the chair next to him, snoring. He was sprawled out, taking up two chairs. his quill still in his hand and a bottle of ink spilt in his lap.
"Hey, Ron! Get up!" Harry said loudly. Ron grunted in response.
"You have to get up," Harry said. "Later," was the low reply.
"Fine. Miss today's Quidditch game," Harry said.
"The game? It's today?" Ron asked frantically. He rolled over, resulting in him falling onto the floor head first.
"Nope. Just Charms," Harry said, with a yawn.
"Great," Ron muttered, rubbing his head.
"Morning Ron, Harry," Hermione said as she entered came down the girls dormitory stairs.
"Morning Hermione," they both greeted. She picked up their essays and looked at them.
"You've got about fifteen minutes until class starts, you know," she said, handing the essays back.
Harry grabbed his quill and began to hurriedly scribble anything on his essay to finish it. Ron was doing the same.
"Seven more inches," he muttered as he measured his parchment.
"Here," Hermione sighed. She handed Ron her essay.
"Oh, thanks, Mione!" Ron said as he began copying random lines of hers into his own, Harry doing the same. "Mine's an inch and a half short. But it will have to do," Harry said.
"Mine's three," Ron said.
"Come on," Hermione said. She took her essay and shoved it into her bag. Ron and Harry followed.
"Nice shirt, Ron," Hermione grinned as they hurried to the Charms classroom. Ron looked down to see the ink stain across it.
"Figures," he muttered.
Charms turned out to be boring that day. Professor Flitwick collected their essays and gave notes for the rest of class. Harry and Ron occasionally nodded off and occasionally actually took notes while Hermione tutted disapprovingly. Halfway through class, Harry couldn't take it any longer. He put his head down in his arms on the desk. He couldn't muster the strength to keep his eyes open any longer and was asleep in seconds.
Harry was walking through a place he visited only too often, a silent dark graveyard. Everything was silent. It seemed he wasn't in control of his legs. He didn't want to go where they were taking him. He knew what he would find there and didn't want to. A gold shimmer could be seen a few feet away. The Triwizard Cup. Beside it was the body of Cedric Diggory. Harry tried to close his unwilling eyes. Cedric's skin was sickeningly pale and his eyes sunken in. The lifelessness of him made Harry sick. When he was mere inches from the body, Cedric's eyes snapped open. If Harry was in control of his own body, he'd have jumped. It was the first time in this consistent dream, no, nightmare, that that had ever happened.
"Nice one, Harry. With you around killing everyone off, we won't need any Death Eaters. You seem to be doing a good job of it yourself," it was Sirius's voice that came out of Cedric's mouth. But not his usual voice. This one was cold and angry, "So who's next? You already tried to get your friends killed." The voice turned into Dumbledore's, "Maybe you should try again. You got Sirius and Cedric." "No, I didn't mean to," Harry pleaded.
"Murderer," the voice said icily.
"I am not!" he yelled. The scene turned to blackness and the next moment he opened his eyes to see Ron's face looming in front of him.
"Shit, Harry, you alright?" he asked.
"Son of a bitch," Harry cursed under his breath. Not for the first time, he had a class full of students looking at him like he was crazy. To top it off, it was a double class with the Slytherins. He could see a few of them already starting to laugh.
"Mr. Potter, are you alright?" Professor Flitwick asked.
"Fine," he snapped. He got to his feet, silently cursing himself for falling asleep in class and letting the dream get to him. He hadn't had one of those nightmares in weeks. Why did it have to come when he was in the middle of a class?
"Maybe you should go to the Hospital Wing," Professor Flitwick suggested.
"Yeah, sure," Harry muttered. He grabbed his stuff from the desk, ignoring Malfoy's whispered gibes and left the classroom, without any intention at all of going to the Hospital Wing.
"Class skipping becoming a habit?" Fred asked when Harry entered the Gryffindor common room. Harry said nothing as he passed and climbed the stairs to his dormitory.
He sat on the floor against his four poster bed. Sitting there with nothing to occupy his mind, Harry's thoughts fell to Christmas. Christmas without his Godfather. No matter how hard he tried to believe everyone else that it wasn't his fault, he still felt it was. If he had just believed Hermione that Voldemort was tricking him. If he hadn't believed Kreacher. If only he had used that mirror. For once, possibly the first time ever, he didn't let his curiosity get the better of him with that package Sirius gave him last Christmas and look how that worked out. He opened his trunk in search of his photo album. As he dug into the mess of clothes and books inside, he felt a sharp pain in his index finger. He pulled his hand out quickly. A large shard of glass was jabbed into the side of his finger. He pulled it out. It was piece of the mirror he smashed at the end of last year. The one from Sirius. He watched the blood slowly drip down into his palm.
Harry held the piece of shattered mirror in front of him. He didn't know where the idea came from, but that it was all he wanted at the moment. He'd heard of it once or twice, but never thought about it. After taking a moment to contemplate it, he pushed up his sleeve and held the small piece of glass to his arm, Not where it would kill him. He didn't mean to kill himself, just to cut. He still had a Dark Lord to defeat. Or be defeated by, he reminded himself. Harry pulled the glass across his skin and felt, as if for that moment, everything was forgotten. A thin line of blood appeared across the top of his forearm. He cut again, this time deeper. And a third time. It felt as though with each cut, his problems faded. Here was one, possibly the only pain, no matter how small, in his life that he could control. As he cut, the only thing he thought about was the pain. All other thoughts were wiped away for the time.
He dropped the glass after a fourth cut and looked at the damage he'd done with the glass. Blood ran down his arm. He watched it gush for a moment before stemming the flow with an old t-shirt from his trunk. He leaned his head back against his bed, feeling a bit dizzy. Once the blood flow stopped, Harry shoved the now crimson shirt into the bottom of his trunk along with the glass, and pulled the long sleeves of his school robes down to cover the slashes in his arms. He wasn't about to let anyone find out what he did. They'd probably send him off to some special ward at St. Mungo's. He wondered what others would say if they found out. The media would have a field day if they ever discovered out what famous Harry Potter did to himself. He knew he shouldn't have done it but yet he didn't regret doing it. It was just his way to deal.