Chapter 13

Old Wounds New Worries

The sound of trunks being slammed shut startled Harry out of his slumber. Muffled voices were whispering, preventing Harry from falling back to sleep. Why was everyone up so early anyways? Too tired to ask, Harry simply pulled his pillow over his head to shut out the noise. He was succeeding when someone opened the curtains, allowing the sunlight to warm the Harry's uncovered back. Harry instantly wanted to curse the person disturbing him. All he wanted was to sleep. Was that too much to ask?

"Harry?" Ron asked tentatively. "Er—everyone's leaving for the train." There was no response. "Um…you can just come down when you're ready. Hermione and I will be in the Common Room."

The curtains were pulled closed again but Harry knew he wouldn't be able to sleep now. He couldn't just leave Ron and Hermione to wait for him. Letting out a groan, Harry reluctantly pulled himself out of bed and changed into a simple pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt. Rubbing the remaining tiredness out of his eyes, Harry put his glasses on and left the room.

Reaching the end of the stairs, Harry saw that Ron was sitting in front of the fire, eating some candy while Hermione already had her homework spread out over multiple tables. He muttered a good morning before collapsing on the sofa in front of the fire. The simple action was enough to pull both Ron and Hermione away from what they were doing.

"Harry, are you feeling all right?" Hermione asked in a concerned tone. "You don't look well. Perhaps you should see Madam Pomfrey."

"I'm fine," Harry said mindlessly. Think of something quickly! "It's just been a long few months."

Hermione joined Harry on the sofa while Ron moved to a nearby chair. "You know you can tell us anything, right Harry?" she asked gently. "We want to help you but you've been so secretive this term. Maybe it would help to talk about whatever is bothering you. It's not healthy to keep everything inside."

Harry reflexively pulled his knees to his chest, wanting desperately to hide. He wasn't ready for this. He wasn't for them to know. He wasn't ready to take the risk and trust them with something he had so desperately tried to bury. "I can't," he said softly. "It would change everything. So much has changed already…I…I can't…I just can't…"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other wide-eyed before returning their attention to Harry. A reaction like this only confirmed that something was really wrong with Harry. "What happened to you, mate?" Ron asked. "Is this about Sirius Black on Halloween? Professor McGonagall said you weren't hurt. She wasn't lying was she?"

Harry didn't know what to do. He didn't want to tell them but he needed to tell them. He needed their help but he was still afraid of what they would think. He was tired of all the lies. He missed the closeness he used to have with his best friends. It used to be the only thing he could depend on.

A hand gently touched his right arm and gave it a small squeeze. "Nothing will change, Harry," Hermione said patiently. "You're our friend, our best friend. Whatever it is I'm sure we can work through it. We always do."

"They'll catch Black soon, Harry," Ron added. "We can talk to Dumbledore so you don't have to go into hiding again but even if you do at least it's better than the Dursleys, right?"

Harry looked away and let out a tired sigh. There was no backing out now. "I won't be going back to the Dursleys," he said tonelessly.

Ron and Hermione stared at Harry in surprise. They both knew Harry had no other family and no other place to stay than with the Dursleys. "What?" Hermione asked. "Why? Is it because Black found you there?"

Harry shook his head as he bit his lower lip. "I—er—can't go back there," he said so quietly Ron and Hermione had to strain to hear him. "Professor Dumbledore and Professor Lupin won't let me."

Hermione moved so she was kneeling on the floor in front of Harry. Carefully, she touched Harry's cheeks and turned his face so their eyes met. The pained look in Harry's eyes made it difficult for Hermione to speak. "Harry," she said at last, "what happened this summer? What did they do to you? Did they hurt you?"

A tear escaped as Harry tried to pull away but Hermione wouldn't let him. Harry could see that she had figured it out. "Uncle Vernon was angry…a lot," Harry said at last. "He—he thought that if he punished me enough I wouldn't do any magic. He—he was angry about…certain things that reminded him of what I was."

"Punished?" Ron asked in confusion then it struck him what Harry wasn't saying. "You mean he hit you…repeatedly?"

Tears were falling down Hermione's face. In one motion she had Harry in a tight hug with no sign of letting go any time soon. "Harry, this changes nothing," she said firmly. "We are still your friends. That will never change. Has your uncle ever hit you before this summer?"

Harry shook his head. He had to admit he was relieved but he was still nervous of them (especially Ron) finding out what started it. He knew Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had found out and felt guilty about the whole event so Harry wasn't about to do the same to Ron. After all it didn't matter what started it. Harry had the feeling that Uncle Vernon would have found something as an excuse no matter what happened.

Ron leaned forward buried his face in his hands. "That's what they were talking about," he said mostly to himself. "I thought Mum and Dad were talking about Black. I never thought it was your uncle they were talking about, Harry." His head popped up as he stared at Harry in disbelief. "Wait a minute, if your uncle was the one who hurt you then that means Black rescued you."

Hermione pulled back and looked at Ron. "Honestly Ron," she said matter of factly. "Sirius Black probably didn't know—"

"—he did," Harry interrupted. "Dumbledore said Black saw my uncle—er—punishing me. He attacked my uncle and took me. He then left me at the Leaky Cauldron and told Dumbledore where to find me. He wants me dead so why is he helping me? Why did he warn me on Halloween? It just doesn't make any sense."

"Well everyone says he's insane," Hermione offered.

Harry just shook his head. "But he sounded sane one Halloween," he countered. "He sounded almost…fearful. It was almost like he wanted to protect me from someone or something in the Gryffindor Tower but everyone was at dinner. He could have taken me. He could have killed me but he didn't. Instead he warns me to be careful."

"There are different degrees of insanity, Harry," Hermione said gently. "You said it yourself: no one was in the Tower that night. It's quite possible Black's perspective of reality is a little—er—distorted. Maybe he doesn't remember—well you know but that doesn't mean he's not dangerous. He got into Hogwarts, Harry. He got passed the Dementors."

"I know," Harry said tiredly. He didn't know why he was starting to wonder about Sirius Black's motives but there was just so much of this that didn't make sense. Black had nearly a week of chances when he was posing as Midnight yet all the dog did was listen and help whenever he could. It almost seemed like Black actually cared but that was impossible. Why would the man who betrayed his parents care for him?

Christmas morning arrived quickly. That morning Harry was woken up by two individuals plopping on his bed. Letting out a groan, Harry grabbed his glasses and shoved them on to see the beaming faces of Ron and Hermione. Not caring what morning it was, Harry rolled over and put his pillow over his head. He didn't know why he had been so tired the last few days. Getting up early was impossible and he was usually the first of the three to bed.

Ron and Hermione had noticed this so decided to proceed with caution. "Harry, it's Christmas," Hermione said gently. "Don't you want to open your presents? There are certainly a lot here."

"No," Harry mumbled from underneath the pillow. "Let me sleep. Too tired."

"You're always tired, Harry," Hermione said with a laugh. "I think this past term has worn you down too much. Come on. Open presents then you can relax in the Common Room until lunch. Deal?"

Harry reluctantly agreed and sat up. Ron hurried over to his bed and quickly started opening his presents while Harry started on his. He received a scarlet sweater from Mrs. Weasley with a Gryffindor lion knitted on the front along with a dozen mince pies, Christmas cake and a box of nut brittle. He got a wand wrist holster from Professor Lupin which Harry had to try on immediately. It felt awkward at first but Harry quickly adjusted to drawing his wand with a flick of the wrist.

Hermione looked envious but she understood why Harry had received a present. Harry had told his friends about Professor Lupin being his temporary guardian and they were actually happy for him. Lupin wasn't exactly family but he was the closest thing Harry had.

Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout and Madam Hooch had gotten Harry a rare set of Defense Against the Dark Arts books which was a surprise. Hermione instantly started glancing through them, looking like a child in a candy store. Harry didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Hermione already knew more spells than Ron and him combined.

The next present Harry saw was a long and thin. Opening the parcel, Harry's eyes widened beyond belief at the lustrous broomstick. His breath was caught in his throat. He had never seen such broomstick before. Hesitantly, Harry picked it up and could feel it vibrating in his hands. He let it go and was surprised to see it hanging in midair as if it were saying 'mount me'.

"MERLIN!" Ron shouted as he hurried over to Harry's bed for a closer look. "A Firebolt! An actual Firebolt! The latest state of the art racing broom! It's supposed to have an acceleration of 150 miles and hour in ten seconds. It's an international standard broom!" He turned his attention to Harry, his eyes still wide in amazement. "Who sent it to you?"

Hermione now was at Harry's side and checked the wrappings. "There's no card," she said with a shrug. "We saw these at Diagon Alley. I believe the card said 'price available on request'."

"Er—okay," Harry said uncomfortably. "So it was expensive. So who would spend that much on me?" It wasn't like he knew a lot of peoplelet alone anyone with a lot of money to spend on a broomstick. "Well it has to be someone who knew my Nimbus was destroyed so that leaves us to anyone at Hogwarts."

"Not really," Hermione corrected. "Any student could have owled their parents and told them what happened. Their parents could have then told anyone. But I don't think anyone would spend that much on you unless they actually knew you."

"How about Dumbledore," Ron proposed. "Maybe he feels bad about everything that's happened because it was the Dementors' fault."

"He wouldn't spend that much on a student, Ron," Hermione argued as she glanced at Harry silently urging him to agree with her. "He couldn't show favoritism like that. Maybe we should tell Professor Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall about this. It's a bit odd though. Anyone willing to spend this much would at least send a card."

Harry bit his lower lip and looked back at the broom. He knew that tone by now to know that Hermione was in her investigative mode. She didn't think this gift was a gift at all. "You think it's jinxed, don't you," he stated more than asked. "You think whoever sent this to me wanted to hurt me."

Hermione let out a sigh. "Who would suspect it?" she asked. "I just think with everything that's happened this year we should have it checked out before you ride it, Harry. Don't you agree?"

"Are you out of your mind?" Ron asked in disbelief. "Who in their right mind would jinx an expensive broom like a Firebolt?"

Hermione glared at Ron. "Oh, I don't know," she said sarcastically. "Someone who wasn't in their right mind like say Sirius Black perhaps?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh please," he said. "Do you really think Sirius Black could just stroll into Quality Quidditch Supplies and purchase a broom? Everyone knows what he looks like and everyone is looking for him. Besides, where would he get the money? He's on the run from the Ministry!"

Harry fell back on his bed, his head hitting the pillow. He knew they would argue for hours if he didn't break it up. The problem was he agreed with both of them. It was odd that there wasn't a card but who would spend that much on something that could easily be done on a less expensive broom? Why purchase the most expensive model available?

Perhaps so the temptation was too good to resist.

Harry followed Ron and Hermione down to the Great Hall for lunch. Once again Ron and Hermione weren't speaking to each other and Harry was put in the middle. Both wanted Harry to prove the other wrong pushing Harry to simply leave the room. He hated taking sides because someone was always hurt. They both had points why couldn't they accept that?

Entering the Great Hall, Harry noticed that all of the House tables were against the walls and a single table stood in the middle, set for twelve. Already seated were Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sprout and Flitwick, along with Filch, the caretaker, two nervous first year students and a fifth year Slytherin. There were three empty seats at the end of the table which Harry, Ron and Hermione took. Harry was of course between his stubborn friends.

Harry kept his gaze on his plate, his shoulders slumped forward. He had no idea what to do. If he turned in the Firebolt he may never see it again but if he didn't he took he risk of possibly being injured or killed when he rode it. This just isn't fair! He knew what he had to do but that didn't mean it was what he wanted. Far from it.

"Dig in everyone!" Professor Dumbledore said enthusiastically.

As everyone was helping themselves, the doors opened to reveal Professor Trelawney strolling towards them. Harry suppressed a groan. Just when he thought the day couldn't get any worse.

"Sibyll," Dumbledore said standing up. "Please join us. This is quite a surprise." With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore made a chair appear out of thin air and fell between Professors Snape and McGonagall.

Professor Trelawney remained where she was. "I'm afraid I must not, Headmaster," she said almost fearfully. "Thirteen people dinning together is most unlucky! The first to rise shall be the first to die!"

Professor McGonagall let out a huff in annoyance. "I think we can risk it, Sibyll," she said. "Please sit down before the food is too cold."

Trelawney sat down, her eyes shut tightly as if she were saying a silent prayer. When she opened her eyes again she looked around and said," But where is Professor Lupin?"

Ron and Hermione glanced at Harry who finally raised his head and looked directly at the Divination teacher. His frustration towards Professor Trelawney and protective nature towards Professor Lupin made it impossible to remain silent. "Don't you know?" Harry asked curiously. "I thought you would have seen it."

Professor McGonagall let out a cough to cover a laugh earning a pat on the back by Professor Dumbledore. Professors Flitwick and Sprout were failing at hiding smiles and Professor Snape's glare was a little less intimidating than it normally was. Hermione quickly put a hand over his mouth and turned away while Ron coughed on the large amount of potatoes that went down the wrong tube.

Professor Trelawney looked directly at Harry. "Of course I knew, Mr. Potter," she said firmly. "I must pose as though I am without the sight so others are not uneasy in my presence."

Harry slowly nodded as if he understood and started making a mountain of his potatoes. "How very Slytherin of you," he muttered.

Ron spit out his drink and started coughing. Professor McGonagall didn't hold back her laughter this time along with Professors Sprout and Flitwick. Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at the banter between the teacher and the student. The two first years and the Slytherin were staring at Harry in shock. They had never heard a student talk this way to a teacher and get away with it.

Professor Trelawney, however, was not amused as she stood up. "I don't appreciate your tone, Mr. Potter," she said. "You of all people should understand what it is like to be different."

Harry put down his fork and sat back in his chair and met Trelawney's angered gaze. "My, my," he said in a concerned tone. "The first to rise shall be the first to die. Isn't that what you said, Professor?" A smile appeared on his face. "Welcome to my world."

Trelawney stared at Harry in shock, her face completely white. Without another word she hurried out of the room sending nearly the entire table into a fit of laughter. The only three people who weren't laughing were Professor Snape, Filch and Harry whose smile had vanished the moment Professor Trelawney left. He simply returned to making his mountain of potatoes.

Once the laughter ended, everyone finally noticed Harry's subdued attitude. Professors glanced worriedly at each other, Ron and Hermione finally looking at each other then bowing their heads in shame. They finally realized what their fighting had done to Harry. It was his choice to make and they hadn't made it any easier.

"Harry, Ron, Hermione, did something happen that we should know about?" Professor Dumbledore asked curiously.

Ron and Hermione glanced at Harry nervously, neither knowing what to say. His shoulders slumping forward in defeat, Harry finally looked up at Professor Dumbledore. "I—um—got a Christmas present this morning," he said uncomfortably. "There was no card."

All of the teachers turned to Harry, immediately concerned. "What happened, Harry?" Professor Dumbledore asked in a firm voice.

Harry fidgeted in his seat. "Er—nothing…yet," he said. "It's just that I don't know anyone who would spend that much on me and not tell me who they were so we were wondering if there was a way to find out who sent it."

Dumbledore glanced at McGonagall before returning his gaze to Harry. "Harry, what did you get?" he asked curiously.

"A Firebolt, sir," Harry said softly.

All of the teachers and the three non-Gryffindor students stared at Harry in a stunned silence. Not liking the attention, Harry started fidgeting in his chair again and avoided looking at anyone in eye. He suddenly wanted to hide and started looking from left to right for a quick exit. Why didn't anyone say anything? Why did he have to say something? Why did he listen to Hermione?

Professor McGonagall slowly stood up. "Mr. Potter," she said firmly. "Please come with me."

Reluctantly, Harry followed Professor McGonagall out of the Great Hall. He knew that the broom would probably be taken away now leaving him once again without a broom for Quidditch. The moment the doors closed she waited for him to be at her side then continued walking. Neither of them said anything until they reached the Fat Lady portrait and even there it was just the password.

Professor McGonagall followed Harry through the Common Room, up the stairs and into his dorm room. Harry then walked over to his bed and pulled open the curtains to reveal shiny broomstick. It tore his heart apart to do this. He closed his eyes and bit back everything in his body that was telling him not to let this remarkable broomstick out of his sight. He feared that he would never see it again.

With shaky hands, Harry picked up the broom, ignoring the vibrating he was feeling from the magical instrument. Deep down Harry knew it wasn't jinxed but who would believe him? No one. After all what proof did he have? None. Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Harry carried it over to McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall gave Harry a sympathetic look as she took the broom from him. "I will have Professor Flitwick and Madam Hooch look at this immediately, Harry," she said gently. "It may be a few weeks but as soon as we are certain there are no jinxes, you will have it back. You understand why I must do this?"

Harry nodded but couldn't meet her gaze. "Yes ma'am," he said automatically. "Um, if it's not problem…I'm not really hungry anymore."

McGonagall set the broom down and pulled Harry into an embrace. "I know this is hard, Harry," she said softly. "If this was a ploy to hurt you it is certainly a cruel one. Just know that I am proud of you for coming forward about this. Not many students would have done the same."

Harry stood there as Professor McGonagall left with the Firebolt held protectively in her hands. The moment the door closed everything Harry had been forcing himself not to feel broke the surface. This was another instance where Harry hated being Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived. Nothing was ever easy for Harry Potter, at least the right thing never was.