A Friend's Folly
AN:
Do you know that writing this chapter was like pulling the teeth of a highly agitated Alligator?
That means its probably subject to change by next Sunday.
I do not own HP.
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"So, the Know-It-All of Hogwarts has figured out The-Boy-Who-Lived's secret has she?" Harry spat defensibly. "What is it? Hmmm? Tell me, don't you know what happened in my childhood?"
"I don't know Harry," Hermione replied. "You never told me about your childhood. Not really. I don't know anything about it. I only suspect some things from what I know about you. Will you please tell me?"
"What do you suspect?" Harry asked quietly and hanging his head.
"You're aunt and uncle hit you didn't they?" Hermione asked just as quietly but looked straight at Harry as she said it.
"My aunt spank me when I did something wrong if that's what you mean," Harry said still not looking up.
"You know that's not what I meant," Hermione replied. "They… they beat you didn't they?"
"How did you find out?" Harry demanded angrily, too tired to deny it over and over again. "Does everyone know? Should I look in the paper tomorrow for headlines 'Boy-Who-Lived Abused?'"
"No, everybody doesn't know, I guessed it just now, when you were yelling. You were acting so jumpy today and I was so worried about you. You jumped back whenever someone touched you when you weren't expecting it. You also looked really tired so I figured you weren't sleeping much. Then you came back from your Occlumency lesson acting like a zombie until everyone else left.
"I spent that time trying to figure out what was going on with you and I had a load of theories from you taking drugs that enhanced your senses to Voldemort possessing you, to you having bad nightmares that put you on edge. Well I had to figure out what kind of nightmares would make you react that way to touch didn't I? The only thing I could figure was you having nightmares about someone hurting you, so it was either nightmares about Voldemort torturing you or your relatives, you said last year when we were looking at the work pamphlets that someone would need more than a good sense of fun to work with your Uncle, you said that they would need a good sense of when to duck, well I thought that you were just joking then, but it made perfect sense when I was thinking about it tonight. Also the summer before our second year Ron wrote to me and said he had to break you out of your room, it had bars on it and the door was locked! And when the twins gave your cousin that awful trick candy you mentioned that your Uncle started to throw things at Mr. Weasley, and well if he dislikes wizards enough to throw things at an adult wizard when the wizard could kill him with a few choice words, he would surely be capable of hitting an underage child who didn't know about magic or couldn't do it outside of school, and then you exploded when we were alone!
"You talked about Snape breaking into your memories from when you were a kid so I could only think that my last theory was the right one and I didn't want to bring it up in front of Ron incase I was wrong then Ron would act even more stupid around you when you were upset, and bound to be even more upset that I would even think about the possibility," Hermione was out of breath when she concluded her explanation having said it quickly so that Harry would not have been able to get a word in and cause her to loose her courage and would have dissolved into tears. When she regained her breath she asked surprisingly steadily, "Harry, why didn't you tell anyone at your primary school? Why didn't you get help? Was it that bad? Did your family hurt you that horribly?"
"Dumbledore already asked the same question and he wouldn't understand any better than you would," Harry replied sitting down on a couch located in a corner of the common room. "Nobody could understand."
Hermione sat down beside him, again careful not to touch him and said, "How do you know that I won't understand if you won't tell me why?"
"Because you wouldn't," Harry said stubbornly.
"Fine, would you let me try to guess why?" Hermione asked.
"I'm going to bed," Harry said standing up abruptly and started to walk away.
Hermione jumped to her feet and said, "You didn't say anything at first because you were afraid of your Uncle."
Harry stopped and looked at her and shouted, "You don't know anything! You don't know a damned thing!"
"Then tell me! Explain it to me!" Hermione yelled at him. "I'm your best friend! I'm not some bleeding reporter or a shrink! I've been through a lot with you! I won't think of you any differently! I just want to know why."
"If you won't think of me any differently then why do you want to know why?" Harry demanded.
"Because I can't properly be a Know-It-All if I don't know that," Hermione tried to smile. "I can only be a Know-It-Almost-All-Except-For-Quidditch and that's too long for Ron to say. He'd forget what the insult was half way through."
Harry ignored the stupid joke and said seriously, "Hermione, you don't want to know. Trust me, you don't want to know."
"Yes I do," Hermione said her voice hitching. "Please tell me what happened and why you didn't tell anyone. Tell me because my blasted imagination will keep me thinking the worse possible thing that could have happened to you. My imagination is worse than the truth; I know it is. But Harry, that doesn't stop me from imagining those awful things that could have happened to you. I… I can only imagine the worse Harry. And I don't want to imagine the worse happening to you. Please tell me?"
Harry saw the tears forming in Hermione's eyes and groaned; he never knew what to do when girls cried.
"Hermione, please don't cry," Harry pleaded. "It wasn't bad, honest."
"How do I know you're just not trying to protect me? You already told me I didn't want to know, and if it wasn't that bad then you would have told me!" Hermione sobbed but continued to look at Harry.
"So you want to know do you?" Harry asked coldly, his anger rising again for no plausible reason except that he was exhausted and tired of going over that subject which he hid for years. "You want to know that my Uncle beat me and hid me in the cupboard until my bruises faded? You want to know why I didn't tell anyone at primary school? I did, they got paid off, or fired. Now you know."
Harry stalked up to his dorm without waiting for Hermione's reaction and ignored Ron who was waiting up for him. He got onto his four-post bed making the springs squeak loudly before shutting the curtains. He stared at the ceiling fuming until he fell into a dreamless sleep; even his subconscious was too exhausted to bring back haunting images of death and pain.
II
II
II
V
AN:
Please review,
tell me what you think,
realistic? No?
Reviews will help heal the bites received when pulling the teeth of the angry alligator mentioned in my first ANs
AN:
Do you know that writing this chapter was like pulling the teeth of a highly agitated Alligator?
That means its probably subject to change by next Sunday.
I do not own HP.
II
II
II
V
"So, the Know-It-All of Hogwarts has figured out The-Boy-Who-Lived's secret has she?" Harry spat defensibly. "What is it? Hmmm? Tell me, don't you know what happened in my childhood?"
"I don't know Harry," Hermione replied. "You never told me about your childhood. Not really. I don't know anything about it. I only suspect some things from what I know about you. Will you please tell me?"
"What do you suspect?" Harry asked quietly and hanging his head.
"You're aunt and uncle hit you didn't they?" Hermione asked just as quietly but looked straight at Harry as she said it.
"My aunt spank me when I did something wrong if that's what you mean," Harry said still not looking up.
"You know that's not what I meant," Hermione replied. "They… they beat you didn't they?"
"How did you find out?" Harry demanded angrily, too tired to deny it over and over again. "Does everyone know? Should I look in the paper tomorrow for headlines 'Boy-Who-Lived Abused?'"
"No, everybody doesn't know, I guessed it just now, when you were yelling. You were acting so jumpy today and I was so worried about you. You jumped back whenever someone touched you when you weren't expecting it. You also looked really tired so I figured you weren't sleeping much. Then you came back from your Occlumency lesson acting like a zombie until everyone else left.
"I spent that time trying to figure out what was going on with you and I had a load of theories from you taking drugs that enhanced your senses to Voldemort possessing you, to you having bad nightmares that put you on edge. Well I had to figure out what kind of nightmares would make you react that way to touch didn't I? The only thing I could figure was you having nightmares about someone hurting you, so it was either nightmares about Voldemort torturing you or your relatives, you said last year when we were looking at the work pamphlets that someone would need more than a good sense of fun to work with your Uncle, you said that they would need a good sense of when to duck, well I thought that you were just joking then, but it made perfect sense when I was thinking about it tonight. Also the summer before our second year Ron wrote to me and said he had to break you out of your room, it had bars on it and the door was locked! And when the twins gave your cousin that awful trick candy you mentioned that your Uncle started to throw things at Mr. Weasley, and well if he dislikes wizards enough to throw things at an adult wizard when the wizard could kill him with a few choice words, he would surely be capable of hitting an underage child who didn't know about magic or couldn't do it outside of school, and then you exploded when we were alone!
"You talked about Snape breaking into your memories from when you were a kid so I could only think that my last theory was the right one and I didn't want to bring it up in front of Ron incase I was wrong then Ron would act even more stupid around you when you were upset, and bound to be even more upset that I would even think about the possibility," Hermione was out of breath when she concluded her explanation having said it quickly so that Harry would not have been able to get a word in and cause her to loose her courage and would have dissolved into tears. When she regained her breath she asked surprisingly steadily, "Harry, why didn't you tell anyone at your primary school? Why didn't you get help? Was it that bad? Did your family hurt you that horribly?"
"Dumbledore already asked the same question and he wouldn't understand any better than you would," Harry replied sitting down on a couch located in a corner of the common room. "Nobody could understand."
Hermione sat down beside him, again careful not to touch him and said, "How do you know that I won't understand if you won't tell me why?"
"Because you wouldn't," Harry said stubbornly.
"Fine, would you let me try to guess why?" Hermione asked.
"I'm going to bed," Harry said standing up abruptly and started to walk away.
Hermione jumped to her feet and said, "You didn't say anything at first because you were afraid of your Uncle."
Harry stopped and looked at her and shouted, "You don't know anything! You don't know a damned thing!"
"Then tell me! Explain it to me!" Hermione yelled at him. "I'm your best friend! I'm not some bleeding reporter or a shrink! I've been through a lot with you! I won't think of you any differently! I just want to know why."
"If you won't think of me any differently then why do you want to know why?" Harry demanded.
"Because I can't properly be a Know-It-All if I don't know that," Hermione tried to smile. "I can only be a Know-It-Almost-All-Except-For-Quidditch and that's too long for Ron to say. He'd forget what the insult was half way through."
Harry ignored the stupid joke and said seriously, "Hermione, you don't want to know. Trust me, you don't want to know."
"Yes I do," Hermione said her voice hitching. "Please tell me what happened and why you didn't tell anyone. Tell me because my blasted imagination will keep me thinking the worse possible thing that could have happened to you. My imagination is worse than the truth; I know it is. But Harry, that doesn't stop me from imagining those awful things that could have happened to you. I… I can only imagine the worse Harry. And I don't want to imagine the worse happening to you. Please tell me?"
Harry saw the tears forming in Hermione's eyes and groaned; he never knew what to do when girls cried.
"Hermione, please don't cry," Harry pleaded. "It wasn't bad, honest."
"How do I know you're just not trying to protect me? You already told me I didn't want to know, and if it wasn't that bad then you would have told me!" Hermione sobbed but continued to look at Harry.
"So you want to know do you?" Harry asked coldly, his anger rising again for no plausible reason except that he was exhausted and tired of going over that subject which he hid for years. "You want to know that my Uncle beat me and hid me in the cupboard until my bruises faded? You want to know why I didn't tell anyone at primary school? I did, they got paid off, or fired. Now you know."
Harry stalked up to his dorm without waiting for Hermione's reaction and ignored Ron who was waiting up for him. He got onto his four-post bed making the springs squeak loudly before shutting the curtains. He stared at the ceiling fuming until he fell into a dreamless sleep; even his subconscious was too exhausted to bring back haunting images of death and pain.
II
II
II
V
AN:
Please review,
tell me what you think,
realistic? No?
Reviews will help heal the bites received when pulling the teeth of the angry alligator mentioned in my first ANs