When lucidity returned, the pain reminded Harry of what he'd just done. His fingers clawed at the mattress beneath him before twisting themselves tightly around the smooth sheets.
A sudden, blind panic surged through him, and he instantly clutched at the bandage on his left arm, needing to rip it off - the bandaging or the arm, he didn't care which. He both had to see it and couldn't bear to.
A large hand grabbed his, preventing him from tearing off the cloth. "It's best you not look yet," Snape ordered him. "Lie still."
Harry collapsed back against the pillow, his breathing harsh. He shouldn't have done this. He never should have asked it. He could feel it under the bandage, a horrible itching, burning... eating away at his skin. He'd actually gone through with it, and now he would be marked forever.
Oh god, oh god, oh god... Harry closed his eyes tightly.
"Don't concentrate on the pain," Snape instructed. "Focus only on breathing."
But Harry couldn't breathe. His body and mind were both in turmoil, agony. "Can't," he choked out, gasping. The word had volume, the silencing charm either worn off or released, Snape no longer afraid his cries would draw unwanted attention.
"You can," he continued, and Harry found himself actually listening to his professor. His tone was firm but didn't hold its usual smugness and superiority. He actually could be a decent teacher, Harry realized. "The worst is over, let it go. It's done. Breathe."
Harry forced himself to relax, exhausted. His scar wasn't throbbing, Voldemort wasn't whispering inside his thoughts, and the mark on his arm was merely a wound and not some sentient beast. For the moment, there was no darkness trying to lay claim to his soul. There was only him. It was over now, and he could breathe. All he had to care about was that he could breathe...
"That's better." Snape replaced the cool washcloth to his forehead. "Keep breathing, Harry."
Blinking several times, Harry finally took in his blurred surroundings. He reached up to touch his face, discovering it wet with tears. He hadn't known he'd been crying... Still was crying. His glasses rested on the nightstand, and he was lying in Snape's bed. The man must have carried him there after he'd blacked out.
Then Harry noticed that the fingers of his other hand were clinging tightly to Snape's, his knuckles white from the panicked grip. He instantly let go, embarrassed. Small marks from his nails were left on the man's hand. Harry groaned. It was bad enough that he'd fainted.
"You're running a slight fever."
"I'm fine," Harry lied. The fire still consumed him, he could feel it. His body was damp with sweat. He disliked being weak in front of Snape.
"Taking the mark in this way can be extremely traumatic," Snape informed him. "You risk going into further shock. If you're in pain, don't conceal it."
Gritting his teeth, Harry wanted to snap that he could handle it. He glared at his professor. "It really hurts," he confessed, hating the forced admission. He warned himself not to start crying again. "It still hurts..."
Harry wanted to curl up into a little ball and never wake up. He actually wished himself back at Privet Drive. He didn't want to have ever learned about his current world.
-----
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Taking off his glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Voldemort was giving him migraines. He'd gotten used to his own ability to eavesdrop, but sometimes the visions he got were still too much for him. He hated never knowing when they would come.
"Not now," he mumbled quietly, his head aching terribly. When it happened at night, he could handle it, but right now he was only twenty minutes into Double Potions with Slytherin. He was zoning out during classes way too much lately.
Ron poked him and slipped him a note. "You should be taking notes, this could be on the test," he read silently. He glanced up and looked over at Hermione, obviously the originator of the note. She gave him a pointed glare that clearly said to pay attention.
Harry crumpled the paper in his fist before closing his eyes. He wasn't listening to the lesson at all, and quite frankly he didn't care. The page in front of him was blank, his quill merely scratching out a doodle. Harry instantly stopped the motion of his hand. Opening his eyes, he stared at the ink.
His scribble was taking the shape of a very familiar dark mark. He immediately toppled over his ink onto the paper, trying to cover it. He smeared franticly at it with his hand.
Abruptly, Harry stood up, his chair almost falling over from the sudden movement. "I need to be excused," he blurted out. He could feel the vision on its way, and he somehow knew it was going to be one that hurt.
Snape looked upset at being interrupted, but he nodded. "You are excused, Mr. Potter. Ten points from Gryffindor."
Harry cringed at the loss of points. Hermione was going to kick his ass later. But he'd be damned if he were going to have another fit while in class. He made a dash for the door, but the room spun into black before he could make it, and he grabbed the edge of one the desks to steady himself. Shit.
Pain laced through him, and he clung to the desk for fear of falling to the floor. This was not happening. He concentrated hard on controlling it.
"Mr. Potter, are you alright?" Snape asked.
No, he was not alright, he wanted to scream. "Shut up, Severus," he spat out in agitation before clenching his jaw. His fingers pressed hard against the wooden desk.
"SHUT UP, SEVERUS?!" Ron gaped in shock. "Bloody hell, Harry, have you completely lost it?"
Several chairs made screeches against the floor as they were pushed back. One was Hermione's, Harry would place money on it. Then there was stunned silence, none of the students daring to speak.
Dizziness hit him, and Harry felt his knees give out. Somebody wrapped an arm around him before he could fall.
"Class dismissed," Snape ordered, and everybody was quick to file out of the room. Except for Ron, Hermione, and whoever was bracing Harry, of course.
"Harry, what's going on?" Hermione asked, her tone worried.
He couldn't reply.
"I've got him," said the overly familiar voice of the person Harry had slumped his weight onto.
He had NOT chosen Draco Malfoy's desk as the one to grab! Had he? Crap. Since this couldn't get any worse at this point, Harry allowed his legs to buckle completely.
"Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley," Snape addressed them, "what part of 'class dismissed' did you not understand?"
Harry's two friends reluctantly left his side, and Harry surrendered himself to the images Voldemort was putting inside his head.
-----
Harry felt uneasy as he waited for Snape to return, and he tried to shove away the uncomfortable anxiety. He was surprised to realize that he wasn't dreading the man's return, rather he'd welcome it.
Was he so afraid of being alone that he actually wanted Snape's company? He rolled his head to the side and looked at the Potions Master's room. He'd always found Snape somewhat creepy and distant. Or at least Harry had always tried to keep his distance.
It was good that he didn't know Snape all that well, though. There were times when Harry preferred being around strangers. Like now. Not that Snape was by any means a stranger to him, he wasn't, but they didn't actually know anything about each other. They only knew the roles they each played in the fight against Voldemort.
Harry couldn't imagine what it would be like to go through this with a friend. He would have liked the support, and yet... He stared at his bandaged arm. He didn't want anybody he was close to with him. He couldn't handle...
He sighed, and it turned into a moan. There hadn't been a choice in the matter anyway. He'd needed it done by somebody who bore the mark himself. Snape was his only option.
"Three days, then come back." That was Harry's only reply when he'd approached Snape about it.
He'd spent the first day thinking the man was a prick who didn't think Harry mature enough to have already thought things out. He was being sent away to sleep on it, as if his decision was some impulsive thing. He'd wanted a simple yes or no, not the man's opinion. He was more certain than ever that he would do it, just to prove a point.
The second day, he started to wonder if his professor was right. He'd spent weeks researching every angle, figuring out if he could do it, but he'd not given himself time to debate if he actually would do it.
On day three, he'd confirmed that he did want to take the mark. It wasn't just something he had to do, his duty as Harry Potter, member of the Order. It was something he was truly willing to do - a rational and well thought through decision.
He trailed his fingertips over the bandage, not removing it but wondering when he would. If Snape had said four days rather than three, if he'd been required to live with his choice a single day more... would he have still done it? Or would that fourth day have given his fear time to change his mind?
He closed his eyes, still pondering it. What if he'd said four...
-----
When the classroom came back into focus, Harry fought to hold back his moan. The remnants of images still felt like they were slamming against the inside of his skull.
So this was what made him special? His strange connection to Voldemort. Visions that sought to rip his mind apart. He rubbed his forehead, feeling his scar. He was the Boy Who Lived.
This sucked. Why couldn't Draco be the one who was special?
He pushed himself up straight in the chair. So he wasn't on the floor for once? Nice. He looked at Draco and Snape who were watching him and making no attempt to pretend not to be. "Well, that was pleasant," Harry muttered sarcastically.
"Can you stand?" Snape asked.
Harry nodded, then regretted it.
"On your feet then." Snape held out is hand, and Harry took it and yanked himself up.
He waited to regain his balance, then he brushed off his clothes. There were no sympathies from either Snape or Draco, and no reassurances required from Harry.
Since the class had been let out, Harry walked back to his own table, scooped up his things, and left. Draco did the same.
Harry instantly spotted Ron and Hermione waiting outside the room for him, and he turned quickly to Draco. "Walk with me," he instructed, seeking to avoid his friends.
They both ran over to him anyway. "Harry, are you--"
"I'm fine," he preempted them, trying to keep walking.
"Hold up a minute," Ron said.
"We need to talk to you," Hermione added.
Harry was unable to hide his agitation, but he stopped. "Honestly, I'm okay."
Turning him away from Draco, Hermione opened her planner and held it in front of him. "You can't just do things like this, Harry," she whispered somewhat harshly.
Harry glanced at the page. "Herbology - study chapter 12 notes" had been scratched out and replaced with "DA meeting - re: Cruciatus." He'd forgotten that he did that, but of course Hermione would have tried to fit in more study time now that they had a free period. She was so predictable.
She snapped the planner shut, as if afraid somebody might see it. "I know something is going on with you, but you can't write stuff like that." She lowered her tone further. "We could get expelled!"
"You worry too much, Hermione," he replied, brushing her scolding aside. "If we get in trouble, I'll just say the voices in my head told me to do it."
She stuffed the planner into her book bag. "That isn't funny."
Harry really wasn't in the mood. "Look, I'm talking with Draco right now, alright? We'll discuss your schedule later." He turned back toward him with an apologetic look.
A look which Hermione noticed. "You can't just dismiss me like that, Harry."
"Yes, I can, and I did. So we'll either have this conversation later or not at all." He was really getting irritated.
"Come on, Harry, we want to talk. You've been acting strange lately." Ron sounded worried. "Tell ferret-face to wait. Don't ignore your actual friends."
Harry sighed in exasperation at the name-calling. "Grow up, Ron."
"What are you possibly talking about with a Slytherin anyway?" Ron demanded. "You're a Gryffindor, in case you've forgotten."
"God, Ron, how could I possibly forget!" Harry snapped. "Nobody will ever let me."
"Well then, you could trying acting like you still belong to the same house as we do!"
Harry left Draco's side completely and moved to glare directly at Ron. "You know why I'm in Gryffindor House, Ron?" he practically hissed at his friend. "Because I told the sorting hat not to put me in Slytherin. It should have though. I'm likely the bloody Slytherin heir! What do you have to say to that?!"
Ron grabbed his arm and dragged him even farther away from Draco. He did not want anybody overhearing the things Harry was saying. It would be all around school within the hour. "I'd say James and Lily are probably rolling in their graves because their son is behaving like a real bastard."
"Ron!" Hermione snapped, appalled by the way her two closest friends were acting.
Ignoring her completely, Harry tightened his hand into a fist. "I didn't even say it in Parseltongue," he replied before taking a swing at Ron, and landing it perfectly across the side of his face.
"HARRY!" Hermione yelled sharply, trying to force her way between them. "Stop it! Both of you!"
"Fine," Harry spat back. He shook out his hand and rubbed his knuckles. "We're done here anyway."
He turned back to Draco who was watching with a dull amusement. The stupid halfwits Harry had for friends really didn't have a clue what was going on with him. Draco probably understood Harry better than either of them. But they would never be friends.
Hermione followed Harry when he started to walk away. "Don't you have anything to say about what you just did?"
Ron nodded, wiping some blood from his split lip. Like an apology. He really hoped Hermione would give him a piece of her mind, as she was so prone to doing.
"Do you know how many points Gryffindor would have lost if a teacher had seen that?!" she yelled at him, still trying to control her volume.
That earned her a nasty glare from Ron, that she was only thinking about the points and not complaining that Harry had just slugged him. Their faces were both slightly flushed now.
Without thinking, Harry yanked out his wand. He'd had enough. "Petrificus Totalus!" Hermione hadn't even attempted to counter it, and Harry looked at her with disappointment before walking away.
"Worthless mudblood..."
It wasn't Draco who said it this time, but Harry. He didn't turn back to see the look of heartbreak on Hermione's face. His friendship with Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger was over.
"Do I need to know what you saw?" Draco asked seriously after he and Harry had walked in silence for several minutes.
"No." The word came out clipped. He didn't actually need to talk with Draco about anything. "I just wanted to avoid... that." He waved a hand back in the general direction that they'd left Ron and Hermione.
"Do you want me to walk with you back to your room?" The question sounded a bit awkward, considering whom it came from.
A half-smile found it's way onto Harry's face for the briefest moment. Draco Malfoy was offering to let Harry Potter lean on him. Who would have ever thought that could happen?
Neither boy came close to liking the other, but somewhere during that night spent in the Forbidden Forest, they'd stumbled upon a mutual respect.
Yet Harry rejected his support with a shake of his head. He needed to be alone. He toyed with the edge of his left sleeve. Draco partially opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again. He left Harry on his own.
Harry stayed where he was, not moving. If he went back to his room and lay down, he wouldn't want to get back up. He removed his fingers from his sleeve, then dropped his arms to his sides.
Draco knew and Ron didn't. Harry kicked at the floor. What a horribly screwed up life he was living.
For a moment, he wondered if the mark was poisoning him. But he knew the way he'd acted was his own doing. He'd had to push them away, he told himself firmly. It was for their own good. They shouldn't be around him.
He wished he wasn't Harry Potter.
-----
TBC...
Everybody, thanks for reviewing. And I'm still at a loss for where the Mirror of Erised is now, BTW. Were we just never told what ended up happening to it? Or is it still just sitting there at Hogwarts?