Rated R for swearing, violence, and suicide (and/or suicide-related issues). If this offends anyone, don't read. Thought I'd add that I own nadda. All characters, names and related indicia are property of J.K. Rowling. I am merely trying to share some of her goodness in a non-illegal way. :)
Chapter 14: Trouble for Number Four
Dinner had never been such a great event.
The euphoria of Gryffindor winning the Quidditch match against Slytherin was all over the school (except at the Slytherin table, of course), and everybody was celebrating the defeat. Oliver Wood had sat down with the Gryffindor's at their table and was talking merrily to them all about Puddlemere United. Ron was happier (and was listening to Wood intently), Hermione wasn't buried in a book for once, and the food was delicious. Nothing was wrong.
Except for one small thing.
"This is getting annoying," Hermione whispered across the table to Harry, who looked at her quizzically over his plate of meat pie.
"What is?"
"Snape," Hermione replied uneasily. "He's staring at you again."
"Probably planning Harry's death," Neville said with a half-smile, biting into a piece of fish. "Comforting, eh?"
"Very," Harry replied, making it a point not to look up at the staff table. "Not like he hasn't done it before, I'll reckon..."
Hermione grinned and looking up past Harry's shoulder, grimaced, and bent her head over her food very quickly. Harry turned around to see what she was looking at.
"Oh...hello Cho."
Cho Chang smiled uneasily down at Harry, her cheeks flushed. "I just wanted to say you did a really great job during the match." She said swiftly, twirling a lock of black hair around her finger. "It was a good one."
"Oh," Harry said, unnerved, and almost uncaringly. "Thanks."
"Your team is excellent," she went on, relaxing a little. "I wish I could play like that."
Harry smiled and turned to exchange a significant glance with Ginny across the table, who rolled her eyes and almost snorted as she drank deeply from her goblet.
"I'd better be getting back," Cho said breathlessly. "See you around, Harry."
Harry shook his head as he watched her walk back to the Ravenclaw table, a slight bounce in her step. "Well she's certainly changed, hasn't she? And why's she still here anyway...I thought she'd gone?"
"Oh please," Ginny said darkly, eyeing the girl with great dislike. "She's only talking to you again because she and Michael Corner broke up during the summer. I wouldn't be surprised if she starts bombarding you in the corridors."
Ginny dug savagely into her steak and chewed moodily. Harry looked at her in confusion.
Hermione laughed at Harry's expression. "I've heard that she's staying another year to get some extra courses in."
"Loads of people are doing that," Ginny said, looking down the table at Angelina and the rest of the group.
Hermione sighed and looked back over her shoulder. "God...Harry, will you smile and wave at Snape or something so he stops looking over here? It's bloody creepy."
Potter looked happy.
This was definitely a change for him, considering every time he'd glanced at the boy he had looked the exact opposite. Snape was glad, but that didn't stop the nagging feeling that had built up inside him a while ago.
Severus Snape steadily picked at his porridge. He loathed porridge, and couldn't exactly put his finger on why he had ordered it for dinner; he wasn't really hungry anyway. The little raisins floating around in it made him want to throw up, and he concluded after some observation that the whole thing looked like the result of one of Longbottom's potions. He moodily sneered into the bowl when he felt an enthusiastic presence at his side. Glancing again at Potter, he sighed.
"Good evening, Professor Snape!"
"Hello, Hooch."
Madame Hooch sat herself down with a flourish and ordered a plate of baked potatoes and chicken. She grinned at him sympathetically. Snape wished her dead.
"No need to be so surely, Professor," the woman said, eyeing him and his progress with the porridge. "Just because Gryffindor won doesn't mean you need to sulk about it."
Snape raised his eyebrows slightly and, instead of hexing her, turned his attention back to his bowl. He thought about gagging into it and sending it back down to the House Elves. Maybe then they'd get the hint as to how horrible it was.
"Then again," Hooch continued, stuffing her face unpleasantly with potato and downing some pumpkin juice. "You're always surely, aren't you?" She chuckled and her yellow eyes glinted happily.
Oh, you're bloody hilarious. Shut up.
Snape scowled at her and pushed his bowl away, glaring at the group of Hufflepuff students closest to him who dared to giggle so loudly in his presence. God, he hated the brats. They fell silent immediately.
"Professor Snape, may I have a word?"
Snape groaned and looked up. Couldn't people leave him alone for one bloody minute?
"Very well, Professor McGonagall." Piss off.
The Deputy Headmistress sat down on Snape's other side and turned to face him. She was clearly irritated and Snape's mood improved ever so slightly; anyone in or associated with Gryffindor could kiss his pale Slytherin ass.
"You look pleased."
McGonagall shot him a look, which clearly told him to sod off. Severus knew it all too well and he almost grinned at her.
"I was hoping you and I could discuss something."
"Well, I am sitting right here, so please continue." He tried to smile irritably at the old bat, his attempt coming out as more of a grimace. McGonagall tutted.
"Professor Snape, this has gone on far too long," she said quietly, taking a sip of her coffee and eyeing him with the utmost sincerity. "The fighting between Gryffindor and Slytherin has - "
Snape held up a thin, pale hand. "By Gryffindor and Slytherin you mean Potter and Malfoy, don't you Minerva? The houses of Gryffindor and Slytherin have been quarreling for years and years now and I really don't think that will ever change."
"I suppose I do," the woman admitted. "You saw what happened after the game today. That act of ruthlessness on Slytherin's part was totally unacceptable! Miss. Weasley could have been seriously hurt." Snape sighed, annoyed.
"That act of ruthlessness, as you've so delicately put it, was not on Slytherin's part, but on the behalf of the moron who did it. I can assure you, I am having Goyle severely punished for it. I know what the bludger could have done. Now, Potter and Malfoy's...er...squabbling...on the other hand, is none of our concern. It so happened that the two idiots simply had no liking for each other from day one. That we cannot change. Potter landed Draco's father in Azkaban, for Merlin's sake. He won't forget it so easily. And," he added as an afterthought. "He's just beaten him at Quidditch. Again."
McGonagall sighed. "I know that," she said, her voice becoming a little more desperate. "But as their heads of houses it is our duty to see that no more of this goes on! Perhaps we could at least try to make the boys - "
"There is no chance in hell of Potter and Malfoy ever becoming friends," Snape interrupted, thoroughly annoyed. "You have my final words on this. I will not waste my time pursuing some fool-heartedly plan to bring those two to an understanding."
How sentimental.
Snape continued. "If you yourself wish to do so, then I pity you deeply and hope that you will not be driven mad in the process. I daresay Malfoy certainly will not comply with your plans and I'm sure Potter won't either, so you would be well advised to abandon the thought altogether."
Minerva looked abashed. "So you won't help at all?"
"What do you want me to do?" Snape shot back incredulously. "Bloody lock them in a room and force them to like each other?"
Professor McGonagall looked at him irritably. "Yes, well, we all know Slytherins are too proud, anyway..." She got up in a huff and stalked back to her seat beside Dumbledore, who was chatting animatedly to Professor Lupin.
Snape scowled darkly and looked over at Potter again, watching as a dark-haired girl from Ravenclaw finished talking to him and hurried back over to her table, giggling.
Giggling deserved detentions. A lot of them.
Snape massaged his temples and silently cursed McGonagall and her bloody Gryffindor's for beating out Slytherin yet again. The lot of them were so damn proud of themselves. He quickly looked away as Granger cast an exasperated glance in his direction over her shoulder. He'd have to take more house points away from her later. He wondered if he could get away with taking away the amount that Gryffindor had just won in one class.
It could be done. He snickered, imagining their faces if he ever did that.
"What're you thinking about, Ginny?"
Ginny looked up at Harry and shook her head. "I'm just thinking about something Trelawney said during class today," she replied, her eyes distant.
Harry looked at her sympathetically. "Taking Divination, huh? How d'you like it?"
"In some ways its interesting I guess," she said, rolling her eyes. "I mean, I've gotten some pretty accurate Tarot readings and tea leaf readings done by people. She, on the other hand...she's...special."
Harry smiled. "Yeah, I guess she is. I would've thought you'd have Firenze, though."
"Obviously not," Ginny said, sighing. She drank the last of her juice and sighed.
"So?" Harry asked. "What did Trelawney say?"
"Oh," the redhead said. "She...predicted something kind of dark, is all. She said people were going to die somewhere."
Harry nodded and bit into a potato, not believing her. Trelawney usually had no idea what she was talking about and predicted deaths all the time.
"Well, I'm going up to the Tower to celebrate!" Ginny said brightly, jumping up and eyeing the large group of Gryffindor's who were leaving the room. "Are you coming?"
Hermione and Ron got up. Harry stayed behind.
"Harry?" Hermione asked. "Aren't you coming?"
"I will in a second," Harry said, finishing up his dinner. "I'll be right there, you guys go on. It's no big deal."
Ron ushered Hermione out of the room and Ginny threw Harry one last calculating look before following her brother.
Harry sat in silence for a little while; drinking very slowly from his goblet, glad to be alone for a little while. He almost grinned to himself listening to the hisses and insults that came from the Slytherin table, and resisted the urge to turn around and wave at them all. He felt better than he'd felt since the summer began...
"And do I look like the kind of man who can be intimidated?"
"Well...yes, I'd have to say you do, Dursley."
Harry laughed to himself at the memory of Mad-Eye Moody. He looked up at the staff table and received a wink from Professor Lupin, who was looking horribly sickly but happy, nonetheless. Harry smiled and, deciding that he'd lingered by himself long enough, rose from his seat and walked out of the Great Hall, accompanied a hearty round of applause.
Harry emerged into the empty Entrance Hall and made his way up one of the marble staircases, his feet echoing through the corridors. He was ready to bet everything he owned that those who were already in the common room had gotten out Butterbeer and were celebrating like mad, and he wondered how long he could stay before getting away to his dorm to flop into bed. He was tired.
Suddenly, he became aware of a second pair of footsteps following him down the corridor. Harry gripped his wand in his pocket in case it was Malfoy, and he turned around slowly to see who it was. His eyes widened in shock.
"Hello Harry. I hope you don't mind me following you."
"Cho?"
Cho stopped a few feet away and smiled at him brilliantly. She was absolutely gorgeous, but instead of his stomach doing its usual flip-flop like it used to, it sank until he was sure it had scarpered through the floor and down to the dungeons. Harry's eyes clouded slightly and he cleared his throat.
"What's up? Did you need to say something?"
Cho tilted her head to one side and said nothing, just looked him up and down for a minute. Harry felt his face flushing and he silently cursed her for coming to see him. She looked at him through thick lashes and smiled...and moved a little closer.
"Harry," she said, her voice smooth. "I know we didn't get off to that great a start last year with everything that happened."
"What, like with you going bonkers on me in that café in Hogsmeade, constantly trying to talk about Cedric, crying all over the place, and bringing your friend Marietta to the DA and brushing it off when she ratted us all out? You mean all that?"
Cho lost her seductive look and put her hands on her hips. "Harry...Marietta is a really nice person! She just messed up, that's all." She looked at him contemplatively for a moment and shook her head, grinning. "You're infuriating."
Harry didn't know how to respond to that. He settled for looking inconvenienced. Cho stepped closer to him and Harry frowned slightly. What did she think she was doing?
"I...I wanted to say," Cho said, her grin fading. "That I really like you, Harry."
Harry raised his eyebrows.
"I really like you and that was a great Quidditch game you played today, and I just hope we can start over again."
"Start over?"
"Yes...forget everything that ever happened and start over."
"Start over. Forget everything."
"Yes..."
"Cho..." Harry impatiently brushed a lock of stray hair out of his eyes. "I can't just forget everything that happened."
"Why not?"
"Why not?" Harry spread his arms incredulously. "Cho, if you haven't noticed, Lord Voldemort is back to power and everything that has happened in my life is, one way or another, because of him! I can't forget, Cho, it's impossible!"
Cho winced. Her eyes were sad. "I'm sorry."
She stepped closer. Too close. Harry went to back away, but she grabbed hold of the front of his robes. Harry gazed into her brown eyes, flecked slightly with yellow, and looked at the slight spattering of freckles across her nose, his breathing quick with nervousness. He couldn't believe this was happening...
"I really, really like you, Harry."
"That's flattering and all, Cho, but- "
Harry never got to finish his sentence. Cho pulled him roughly against her, stood on her tiptoes, and pressed her lips to his. Harry's eyes widened in utter shock and he stood there for a moment, stunned, as Cho kissed him...
This is wrong.
Harry broke apart from her and stepped backwards. Cho's cheeks were tinged with pink and she looked at him reproachfully, and then gasped at something behind Harry. Harry stole a quick glance and felt the floor beneath him disappear.
Ginny stood a little ways down the hall. It was clear she'd come walking from the portrait hole and had stopped dead in her tracks once she'd made out whom the couple was. Her eyes were wide and filled with betrayal.
"Ginny..."
"Sorry you two," Ginny called in a singsong voice. "Didn't mean to interrupt! I'll just go back to the Tower, shall I?" She turned on her heel and walked quickly back down the corridor.
Cho looked at Harry and laughed nervously. "Now...where were we?"
Harry narrowed his eyes for a moment. "I'm sorry," he said, breathing heavily. "You're a nice person, Cho...but you and I...well...er...it can't happen."
Cho coughed. "What do you mean, Harry?" Her voice was suddenly dangerous.
"I mean," Harry said. "That I have no interest in you as a girlfriend. I'm sorry."
Cho gasped. Her eyes filled with furious tears and she slapped Harry smartly across the face before stalking away from him back towards the Entrance Hall.
Harry's cheek stung, but he didn't feel it. He set off on a run towards the Tower and was just in time to see the portrait close after Ginny as she went in.
The common room was a mass of happiness, Butterbeer, singing, shouting, coloured streamers, and banners. The fire was crackling merrily in the fireplace and someone had spelled the flames to burn blood red and emit golden sparks the shape of lion heads which floated around in the air for minutes at a time before fading, and crimson candles were bewitched to hover over the room like in the Great Hall, so the space was flooded with light.
As Harry entered, hands rained down on him and he was clapped on the back more times than he could count, and a massive roar of cheering broke out over the Gryffindor's. Harry smiled and nodded more than humanly possible and accepted a Butterbeer from Dean, then tried craning his neck over his housemates in search of Ron and Hermione.
"Wicked, Harry!"
"Great catch! Malfoy'll be smarting for a while after that one!"
"Good game!"
The flash of Creevey's camera.
Harry squinted and spotted Hermione in an armchair near the fire talking to a clearly distressed Ginny. A lion's head burst from the fire and landed on Hermione's sleeve, then dissolved into a poof of golden dust. Hermione brushed at it irritably and, noticing Harry approaching through the crowd, patted Ginny on the back and sent her off to the dormitories.
Harry freed himself of all the bodies and sat on the floor in front of Hermione.
"Er," he said breathlessly, straightening his robes. "Hermione...is Ginny OK?"
Hermione looked at him with pursed lips. "No."
Ouch.
"What did she say to you?"
"What does it matter?" Hermione said disapprovingly, looking at him much the same way.
"It wasn't like that," Harry said quickly, desperate to get his point across. "Cho just sort of came at me and I didn't know what to do and then Ginny showed up right before I was going to tell Cho to bugger off...and she saw the wrong thing, Hermione, I swear."
Hermione looked suddenly amused. "So you admit it?"
"Admit – what?"
"You like Ginny!"
Harry's face flushed the colour of the fire and Hermione laughed and clapped excitedly. Harry suddenly wished he were upstairs. Several people turned to look at them.
"Sorry," Hermione whispered, her eyes bright. "I'm just glad...I thought you were still interested in Cho...and let's face it, she's not the most cheerful type, is she?"
Harry nodded and grinned back. He popped the lid off his bottle of Butterbeer and drank deeply, feeling the warmth spread from his head to his fingers and down to his toes.
He got up and yawned. "I don't know if I can stay up much longer," he said. "I might go to bed."
Hermione looked disappointed, but nodded. Ron began making his way over to the two from where he'd been talking with Dean and Oliver.
Hermione hugged Harry tightly and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll talk to Ginny for you tomorrow if you want," she offered. Harry scratched his head, relieved.
"Thanks."
The door burst open a little while later and Ron came into the dorm room. Harry turned around and grinned at his friend. "Hey mate. You going to bed too?"
Something was weird with Ron. Harry watched him as the boy crossed the room and stood near his trunk, breathing angrily, not really moving, his face flushed.
The door opened again and Neville came into the dorm, smiling. "Hey Harry!" he said happily, crossing the room towards his four-poster. "Awesome game today! You were brilliant!"
"Thanks," Harry said, staring at the redhead next to him. Neville opened his trunk and began shuffling through it.
"Ron?" Harry asked. "What's wrong?"
Ron smiled ironically and looked at Harry. "You asked me that this morning and I wasn't completely honest with you, Harry."
Harry sat on his own bed, looking at Ron apprehensively. "What?"
"I told you half of what was pissing me off," Ron said. "But I suppose now I should let you in on the rest, eh?" Ron pulled his robes over his head and threw them in his trunk.
Harry frowned. "What's...what's the matter?"
Ron thought for a moment, breathing heavily. "You, Harry."
Neville stiffened across the room.
"Me?" Harry repeated.
"You! Wow, I can't believe you're actually surprised to learn that something's all about you again. Harry...you fucking lied to me!"
Harry looked at Ron, surprised. "What? I never lied to you!"
"You did!" Ron shouted. His eyes were full of hurt and betrayal. "You told me that I had a chance with Hermione, you put a smidgen of hope into my head that I might be able to look at Hermione as more than a friend someday, but you've been taking her away from me all this time!"
Harry gaped at him, speechless.
"I see you two!" Ron went on, his fists clenched and his face the colour of his hair. "You're always talking, always laughing together, always hugging! She's always kissing you on the cheek and she talks to you...she never does that with me! You fucking lied to me, Harry...about Hermione, the girl you know I fancy!"
Harry's heart was heavy. "No, Ron- "
"And another thing!" Ron shouted again. "A few nights ago you talked to Hermione again in the common room. You talked about me. You said you...you didn't care if I was your fucking friend or not...it didn't bother you that I was being distant...and yet you got pissed when I talked about you! You said you didn't care..."
"Ron..."
"Always, it's about you!" Ron yelled horribly, kicking his trunk savagely. He looked like he'd had this on his chest for some time. "You...Harry Potter...the Golden Boy. Dumbledore's fucking favourite. The amazing Seeker that everyone worships, leaving the rest of us to stand in your dust. It isn't enough that you're Harry Potter, is it! Everything is always about you! You can get any girl you want, get away with anything just because Voldemort's after you, just because he killed your parents and put that stupid goddamn scar on your forehead that gives you so much fame...you can go anywhere and people will bow down to you...just...If you don't give a shit like I know you don't, then that's fine! I don't give a damn either! You have everything you could ever possibly want...just...fucking bloody hell, Harry!"
"Ron!" Neville said, his eyes wide. "What are you talking about? Harry wouldn't purposefully hurt you...why are you causing a row?"
"Of course," Ron growled. "He's a saint, isn't he?"
Harry felt his eyes prickling. "Ron, please...you've gotten it all wrong - "
"Shut it, Potter. I don't care what you have to say. Go see Hermione...I'm sure she misses you."
Ron glowered and stood there a moment, then wrenched the dormitory door open and slammed it shut behind him.
Dumbledore's head was in his hands.
He could hear chairs shuffling around him and mingled voices, and the crackling of the flames in the large fireplace and the chink of goblets and mugs as Molly prepared tea for them all. Dumbledore had a feeling that none of them would be able to drink it after hearing what he had to say, however. He sighed and felt terribly old, then remembered that he indeed was terribly old.
The kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place was beginning to lose its musty smell and acquire the scent of breads and chicken and foods as members of the Order spent more time there. Everyone had done their best to clean it up as much as it could be, and it was starting to look like an actual kitchen nowadays rather than an unused dump.
The noise was becoming less and less and the old wizard looked up at the people sitting around the table. Molly was placing mugs of hot tea in front of them all, casting anxious looks at the Headmaster every so often. Dumbledore surveyed them all with a grave expression and exchanged tired looks with Professor Snape, who already knew of what was coming. It wouldn't be long before the Daily Prophet got wind of the situation, and they had to think of something fast if the story was going to avoid being published in the morning issue.
Dumbledore sorely sighed and wished he were back in his own office, immersed happily in the duties and responsibilities of being a Headmaster and not having to worry about any of this. He cleared his throat and an immediate silence fell over the room.
"Thank you all for coming tonight, I know it's late."
Several people nodded in response and murmured a small greeting.
"It has come to my attention," Dumbledore began. "That an attack has occurred on a Muggle family in western Surrey by Lord Voldemort and his band of Death Eaters."
There was a collected gasp from all the members of the room.
"So it's begun then," Moody said gruffly.
Dumbledore exhaled loudly and went on.
"You all might notice the absence of some of our number tonight. These people have gone to the site with a number of highly skilled Healers from St. Mungo's Hospital, and are taking care of the scene. However, we need more help."
A stony silence met the old man. He looked around at them all.
"Auror's Nymphadora Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt are at the home, along with Arabella Figg, Minerva McGonagall, Emmeline Vance, Arthur Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Bill Weasley, Elphias Doge, and several Ministry officials. The last report to me was that three Death Eaters have been captured and taken to the Ministry of Magic to be charged and sent to Azkaban - "
"Oh..." Molly Weasley said, her eyes wide and fearful. Dumbledore gestured to allow her to speak.
"Azkaban," she said uneasily. "But the Dementors..."
"...Aren't there anymore, quite correct, Molly," Dumbledore finished, nodding. "No, we all know the Dementors are outside Ministry control now and have swelled Lord Voldemort's ranks. We now have what few Auror's we can spare and more Ministry workers guarding the prison, but it is indeed now less horrible there now that the effects of the Dementors are absent."
He paused and stared at the steam twisting lazily from his mug of tea. Almost everyone in the room was relatively new to the Order, but many original members were present. Alastor Moody sat, his magical eye staring around out the back of his head in case Kreacher was eavesdropping. Dumbledore's brow furrowed.
"Also in the report was that Lord Voldemort was absent when everyone arrived, but the few Death Eaters that remained escaped except for the three that were taken in."
"And what of the family?" Lupin inquired, his gray eyes alert and worried.
"The family...is dead."
Another round of gasps and shudders ran through the occupants of the room. Several people put their head in their hands and Molly clapped a hand over her mouth in horror.
"They were found in the home after the fire had been put out, evidence of torture on their flesh, both physically inflicted and also that of the Cruciatus Curse. They appeared to have been killed, however, using the Avada Kedavra curse. We have been and are going to be encountering severe trouble with Muggle services such as the Fire Department and Police, and the Hospital Doctors who will no doubt already have arrived. Over a dozen service workers have already had their memories modified, and the entire street has been awoken and have had memory modifications administered in case someone saw what had happened."
"So the house had been set fire to?" asked a middle-aged witch wearing olive green robes.
"And demolished," Dumbledore added, nodding. "The inside was a hideous mess."
"And do we know the purpose for this attack?" Lupin asked, glancing once at Snape, who was sitting rigidly in his chair, his eyes closed, his hands gripping the table edge.
Dumbledore paused for a very long time. "The attack occurred around midnight while the family slept, at number four, Privet Drive. For those of you who don't know this, that is the address of Harry Potter's only living relatives."
A wave of cold goosebumps washed over Lupin and he stared, horrified, at Dumbledore. Molly burst into quiet sobs at the end of the table.
"I am asking for more volunteers to go down and help us clear up the mess," Dumbledore said, strained, as a heavy silence descended on the group. "We also need to make sure that none of this gets into the Daily Prophet, or we most likely will encounter mass panic throughout the Wizarding Community, not to mention more public strain and unnecessary light shed on Harry himself."
Almost at once, every single person at the crowded table had stood up and nodded to the ancient wizard, saying that they would go down to assist. Dumbledore nodded back at them all, grateful beyond words and touched at the amount of loyalty and help he was receiving. He waved a hand, thanked and dismissed them all, and several loud cracks emitted as they Disapparated on the spot.
All except for Snape, Molly, and Lupin.
"You wanted me back at Hogwarts, sir?" Snape asked, his onyx eyes serious.
"I would like an Order member to be there, yes," Dumbledore replied. "I've told Minerva not to stay there long, but who knows..." Snape nodded and Disapparated immediately.
The silence was eerie that descended on the large room. Molly was wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her robes and Lupin was staring sadly at his hands, which were clasped on the table in front of him.
"Oh Dumbledore," Molly whispered. "What are we going to tell Harry?"
Lupin looked up and nodded. "Will he be staying here during the summer now?"
"He will be," Dumbledore said, now thoroughly exhausted. "We don't have the protection of the charm his mother placed on number four when she died, however..."
"Couldn't that charm have saved the Dursley household from such an attack, though?" Molly asked, hiccupping.
"I'm afraid not," Dumbledore replied, standing up. "As Harry was not there at the time, the charm did not apply. That is its downside."
"Indeed," Lupin said. "Do you want me at Hogwarts or at Privet Drive, sir?"
"Me as well," Molly added.
"You can stay here, Molly," Dumbledore said kindly. "There is no threat to you here, this place is very well protected. Professor Lupin...I would really appreciate it if perhaps you could return to Hogwarts and...and tell Harry what's happened. I know that I'm asking you to do a hard thing, but since you're the closest thing to a relative Harry has apart from the Weasley's..."
Molly sniffed again and went off to the large kettle hanging in the hearth.
Lupin nodded a few times and attempted a smile, but had no luck. "All right, Headmaster." A loud crack, and he was gone.
How had such a good day turned so sour so quickly?
"Silencio. Colloportus."
Harry turned from the door and faced the room, not bothering to wipe the tears off his face. He stood in the middle of the girls' loo, breathing raggedly.
"You fucking lied to me!"
"If you don't give a shit like I know you don't, then that's fine! I don't give a damn either!"
"It's always about you! The amazing Seeker that everyone worships..."
"You are just like your father...and now you know that's nothing to be proud of."
"...Clogging my household with your filth, your stench, your worthlessness, your abnormality..."
"I'm not worth it! I don't know how to be perfect!" Harry screamed into the silence. Nobody responded. That single voice of hope and comfort he had so sorely wished for during all these years still did not respond. It never would.
Harry exploded.
He screamed and pointed his wand at a mirror where it shattered with a deafening crash and showered the sinks and the floor with shards. Harry put his fist through another one and another one. He screamed again and again. He cried again and again.
"It isn't enough that you're Harry Potter, is it!"
"Shut up!" he yelled. "Shut up...I'm not worth it...I'm worthless, all right? I'm fucking worthless! Are you happy now?"
"You have everything you could ever possibly want..."
Harry closed his eyes, covered his ears, and screamed again. He tried to scream loud enough for the mangled soul inside of him to crawl out his mouth and leave him alone...tried screaming to free the part of him that was eating him alive...
He picked up a glass shard and threw off his robes. His bare arms greeted him and he pressed the glass to his skin. A thin red line appeared in its wake and blood seeped out of the wound. Harry bent over a sink and let his tears fall as he made mark after mark on his flesh, letting the glass go deeper than he had ever done before, feeling his hurt seep out of him with every droplet of blood.
"You...Harry Potter..."
"I might talk to you later...unless you don't think I should risk it?"
"As long as it takes for the message to 'sink in'..."
"You'll soon find out that some wizards are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."
"Dumbledore's fucking favourite..."
Harry gasped. He stopped cutting and let the shard fall into the sink with a clinking noise. He stood there for a while, gripping the porcelain tightly, shaking...then he sunk to the floor in a heap. He was no longer aware of the destruction around him.
Ron hated him. Harry had been an idiot and hadn't appreciated the friendship he had gotten from him, and now he'd lost Ron forever. And now, maybe Ginny too.
Harry's anger built up in him. If Ron was too stupid to see that he, Harry, had no interest in Hermione, then that was his fault. And if he was going to throw their friendship away over some stupid thing like jealousy...
"It's my fault," Harry countered himself miserably. "Because I'm Harry Potter. Famous. I have..." and his fingers trailed the lightning-bolt scar on his forehead lightly. "I have this."
He squeezed his eyes shut and a sob escaped him. There were no words to describe the emptiness he felt inside himself, the utter loneliness, and the cold. The hole that threatened to suck him into its black abyss. He felt his heart tear open and everything pour out of him and he screamed out all his sorrow and scratched the glass shards out of his knuckles. Everyone was hurt because of him. He sat up again and made his pain bleed away, the stinging like flames dancing along his bare skin, scorching away the darkness...
"You shouldn't be doing that."
Harry looked up with a start and saw Moaning Myrtle floating a foot above the floor in front of him. She was looking at him with her huge orb-like eyes, wet from crying.
"Sod off," Harry growled.
"Really," Myrtle said softly, sitting cross-legged on the floor across from him and holding out her hand. "Harry, please...give that to me." Her eyes were sad. When were they never sad?
Harry stopped and held the shard in his hand tightly. His eyes narrowed. "Go away."
Myrtle sighed. "Harry, don't do that to yourself. That's bad." She looked at him sorrowfully and her shoulders were slumped. Her chin quivered. "Please...just give that to me and clean yourself up. You don't have to do this."
"What do you care?"
"I care about you."
"Why?"
"Because you're the only one who was ever nice to me."
Harry gazed at her. She looked so sorrowful and pathetic with her tears running slowly down her face...Harry wondered if he looked the same way. He was touched, though, by what she said.
He bit back a fresh wave of tears and held out his hand to drop the shard into Myrtle's, only to have it fall right through it onto the floor. Myrtle smiled and looked at her pearly white hands almost humorously before she focused her eyes on Harry once more.
"Thank you."
Harry was trying so hard not to cry.
"I don't know what you're going through, Harry, but I'm always here if you ever need to talk, you know."
Harry looked at the ghost through watery green eyes. "How could Ron say..." he whispered through the painful ball in his throat. "That I have everything I could ever want?" His voice dissolved into nothing and he choked back a sob. "He knows nothing...he doesn't have any idea..."
Myrtle gazed at him in understanding. "It's OK. You can cry in front of me."
And Harry did. He lay on the floor and sobbed into the cold stone tiles until he couldn't sob any more. He cried out his heart, his soul, his mind, and every bit of pain and hurt that swelled inside him, every corner of darkness, every memory, every drop of blood. He cried it all out until his head hurt and his eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. And all the while Myrtle sat beside him, humming a small tune and attempting to run her fingers through his hair; but the cold her hands inflicted on him was soothing, nonetheless.
Harry was shaking horribly. He sat up and wiped his wet face on the sleeve of his robes and tried to get a grip on himself.
"You scared me," Myrtle confessed.
"I'm sorry," Harry apologized. "I didn't mean to."
The ghost drifted upwards until she was floating a few feet off the ground. Harry stood up as well. He sniffed and wiped fresh tears off his cheeks. Myrtle smiled at him and slowly drifted off into her cubicle again, where there was silence.
Harry looked at himself in the remaining pieces of glass in the mirror. He glanced down into the sink and turned the faucet on, holding his stinging, bleeding arms underneath it. He winced as the red stain washed away, leaving fresh, deep gouges on his skin, angry, snakelike, twisted. Harry stared at them and felt strangely better.
Snape was worried about Harry.
He had Apparated at the gates leading up to Hogwarts and scolded himself for not using the Floo network. It would have been much quicker. He strode up the dark road to the double doors of the school and muttered the spell allowing him to enter. Lately the doors had been magically sealed past a certain time unless Dumbledore knew of someone outside who needed to get in afterwards. They creaked open and Snape billowed past into the dimly lit Entrance Hall.
He shook his head as he stood there by himself, the heavy doors closing behind him, the distant cackle of Peeves echoing all around the Hall. Something wasn't right...something was out of place. His eyes flicked to the door that lead down to the dungeons, which was gaping open at him. He didn't feel like going down there. It was very early in the morning and he really should be getting some sleep, but the night's activities had left him wide-awake and paranoid.
The man took the stairs that led to the upper corridors, his hands plunged deep into the pockets of his robes, his heart hammering, his mind going in so many different directions he didn't know what area to focus on first...
Which made it even more ironic when none other than Potter himself came around a corner and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw whom it was.
Snape stopped as well. He had oddly never been so glad to see Potter before in his life. "Potter," he called. "Come here."
The boy slowly trudged closer to his potions master. Snape immediately knew something was wrong.
"Potter, what is it?"
"I went for a walk," Harry said, shifting uncomfortably. Snape raised his eyebrows tiredly.
"We both know that's not the case. Potter...show me your arms." It was what he suspected. What he knew to be true. What he'd seen.
Potter started. Frowned. Turned a ghostly shade of white. Trembled.
"My arms, sir?"
Snape nodded.
"But...why?"
Snape snickered. "I have a knack for knowing when something's wrong. And...due to past circumstances..." Harry flushed and angrily looked at the floor.
"All right," Snape said. "If you don't feel like talking here, then please accompany me to my office. Professor Lupin will be there shortly. He has something to tell you."
Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing. You guys all rock! :) I realize I've made a huge mistake with some of the characters I have currently attending Hogwarts that aren't supposed to be there, but meh, I tried to fit them in anyway. Heh heh...Sorry everyone...and again, thanks soooo much for reviewing.
