Bonjour mes amies! Yes, I have just come back from holiday in France, and bring with me the next chapter for all my lovely reviewers! (PS, they will be replied to at the bottom of the chapter.) Right. Well, warnings(same as usual): erm, child abuse, rape, (mentions of both I mean), severe depression (ahhh, poor Harry...), suicidal themes, and possibly nice Snape. (ok... just bare with me on this.)
Please guys, remember, reviews help my muse, and my self-esteem. Apparently my psychologist says I need more of it. I still don't have the plot properly figured out yet, but am working on it. My warning applies though, more reviews = faster posting. Thank you for listening/reading, and onto the chapter... Oh, and if you didn't realise, this is eventually going to be a H/Hg pairing, so no complaining when it does, and no nasty comments about how it's wrong or wouldn't work. So nyah!
PS: - review! Please? Pretty please? (with chocolate sprinkles...)
Chapter 2. Early morning.
When Harry woke, his immediate impressions where of pain, blinding light, and of being alive. He groaned slightly, something that the blurred figure beside him took as a token that he was awake.
"Harry, you're awake." It was Remus Lupin, werewolf, teacher and best friend to his parents and godfather. All who were dead because of him. This slight recognition brought back the unbearable waves of pain that usually hovered close by Harry in full measure. Closing his eyes for a second to readjust, he knew it hadn't worked. Nothing ever did for him. He tried to save his godfather, and ended up killing him, not to mention seriously wounding his best friends, Ron and Hermione. All these overwhelming memories brought tears to his eyes again. They trickled down his face unheeded as they had for so long - all his life.
"Hush, Harry. It's ok." Harry felt strong arms hold him gently, carefully avoiding his wounds, and a calloused hand brush his damp cheek. Breathing in, he smelt mustiness from Lupins' robes, and cheap soap. This scent only helped to remind him of his godfather, his only link to his parents, and he sobbed harder, clutching desperately to the older man. Gradually, he pulled away and lay back on the hospital wing bed, wincing as his injuries ached and throbbed. He purposely ignored the amber eyes he knew would be looking at him friendly and sympathetically. He didn't want their sympathy - it was all his fault. He closed his eyes again, almost ashamed of his weakness, and, pretending to fall back asleep, lay still.
"Harry, I know you're not asleep." Harry felt faintly annoyed – it usually worked for Ron, but then he had always suspected that Ron had let him pretend, and Lupin wanted to talk about something serious.
"You remind me so much of your father, he was always this stubborn." Remus sighed. He knew he had to ask what had happened, but he didn't want to. Harry didn't move, didn't give him the pleasure of knowing he was listening, or the pleasure of how much that remark had hurt him. It was bad enough his conscience and mind telling him he was guilty for their deaths without them mentioning those people as well. His parents, Cedric, Sirius - all dead because of him.
"Harry, I need to ask you something, and I need you to give me an answer." Here it comes...
"Harry, what happened?" There was a long silence, and somehow it held more tension than the silence that had shrouded the castle as they waited for Harry to wake. It was incredibly uncomfortable, and inwardly, Remus wondered at the change in the normally bright, cheerful, energetic and friendly boy he had known. Still, after this summer, Sirius' death would've hit him hard – Remus ought to know, he had lost the last of his best friends, just as Harry had lost his godfather.
Harry felt his internal organs freeze, as though someone had cast a hex on him. His eyes snapped open in horror. He couldn't answer, and when he didn't answer, what then? Would they use Veritseratum – the truth potion? Then what would they know? That he had been practising wandless untraceable magic? That he managed to apparate himself into Hogwarts – a feat that no one thought possible? That he blamed himself for everything and wanted to die? If they found out, he knew they would lock him up so he couldn't escape, try to reason with him, tell him it wasn't his fault. He was actually debating lying to them when he realised something else. They wouldn't use Veritseratum on him – he was the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, Saviour of the World and Gryffindor's Golden Boy. No, they would trust him. No need to lie after all.
A slight smirk on his face, Harry adjusted his position so that Lupin couldn't see him at all. Clever really, send in Lupin, someone he trusted to weasel out the truth. Ha, they would soon realise he wasn't that easy to crack. Ignoring the fact that a few minutes earlier, he had been clutching his fathers' friend for dear life and crying his eyes out, he closed his eyes again and pulled the covers over his thin, frail and beaten form. He heard a sigh, and footsteps as Lupin left, the whine of the door swinging open, and the relatively peaceful calm of the empty hospital wing.
Suddenly, Harry sat up, slipped the glasses over his face, eyes roving the room to check he was alone. Smiling slightly, he reached across to the bedside table, and picked up the empty glass. Someone had once used it with the jug; it was still slightly wet inside. A look of intense concentration passed across his face as he held it in his hand. Immediately, the air surrounding the glass shimmered, and the glass had transfigured into an evil looking knife. The knife was deadly sharp, plain, with a clean silver blade that glinted in the light, and a black rubber grip.
'Sometimes this wandless magic's really useful.' He thought to himself as the look of concentration passed across his face again, and the blade glowed piercing blue, then a deep blood red.
His work done, Harry rechecked the room for signs of life, then turned to the matter at hand. If he left now, no one would notice. In fact, they probably thought he'd go to sleep. He started to snigger, then stopped, horrified. Shaking his head, he reminded himself why he was doing this.
'I'm doing this for everyone else. Dumbledore will defeat Voldemort, and my friends will be better off without me.' This set firmly in mind, he pulled off the covers and stood up shakily. He was slightly surprised to see he hadn't broken anything, but then Madame Pomfrey could mend bones in a heartbeat. Grasping the handle of the knife, he concentrated, and, with a loud CRACK, apparated just outside where the Room of Requirement was.
Harry caught himself as he stumbled slightly, and winced at the pain his body was shooting to his brain. Collecting his thoughts and thinking deeply, he chanted a mantra in his mind.
'Somewhere I can die, somewhere no one will find me, somewhere I can be at peace.' As he thought, a door shivered into place before him. Grasping the handle, he pulled open the door, and locking it with a wave of his hand, looked around.
"Perfect." He said aloud, noticing the bare room held only a pile of cushions, which he sank down onto. Looking back at the knife, he marvelled slightly at his own genius. Sharp, untraceable, with added extras – one, a spell to make sure the wound wouldn't close (an idea he had stolen from the snake venom that Mr Weasley had suffered from last year) and another, more complicated charm to make sure that, in case they found him, a Blood Replenishing Potion would have no effect. Genius.
Lying back comfortably on the cushions, he held the knife close to his wrist, and with a deft movement, slit a thin, sharp cut into the skin. He watched, mesmerised as the blood grouped and beaded, leaving a thin trickle down his arm. That wouldn't do. Gritting his teeth slightly, he forced the knife back into the cut, and dragged it deeper. Now there was an angry blood coated gash pouring with blood, and he saw it drip off of the end of his arm and fall onto the floor.
Fighting the light-headedness that was already starting to creep up on him, threatening to make him pass out, he drew the blood-covered blade across his other wrist, leaving an identical cut, which immediately spilt blood onto the floor. Dropping back onto the cushions, he waited for death.
Remus POV - does this work ok as showing who is the 'centre of attention'?
Just as Harry sank the custom-made blade into his wrist for the first time, Remus was sprinting towards the Room of Requirement, mentally reminding himself to thank Albus for the tracking spell they'd cast on Harry. With all of Voldemorts' activity at the moment, and the strong possibility of Harry being kidnapped, the wise headmaster had placed it on Harry, as he had lain unconscious in the hospital wing. Panting heavily as he spotted the door, he forced himself to keep going. He had a dark feeling about this - he didn't know what, but after earlier, he had his suspicions.
Reaching out for the brass doorknob, he yanked open the door, preparing himself for whatever the Room of Requirement could throw at him. Nothing, however, could've prepared him for seeing Harry, lying on a bundle of cushions, blood pooling on the floor. Golden, pain filled eyes took in the horrific picture, spotting the gashes on the wrists, the knife on the floor, and, most painful of all, the small smile on the peaceful face. All this he saw as he bounded across the room, knelt by the boy, regardless of the blood seeping through the cloth of his shabby robes, and reached for a pulse. Then, feeling the sudden touch, Harry opened his eyes blearily, and Remus Lupin swam into view. Two startlingly green eyes stared up at him, pain, sorrow and defeat all too clear.
"Harry," Remus spoke quietly, his voice trembling, his hands shaking as he ripped up shreds of his robes to bandage the cuts. "Harry, stay awake. Just stay awake." He stared in disbelief as the blood immediately soaked through the thick bandage – no wound would bleed this much in such a short time.
"Harry," said Remus urgently as the green eyes blinked wearily. "What did you do to the knife?"
Harry chuckled weakly, so he had figured it out! Great, first they find me (damn bloody Room), now he wants me to save my own life when it's bluntly clear I want to die!
His eyelids started to droop lower, and his body felt immeasurably heavy. He could feel every irregular heartbeat, every laboured breath, and most especially, every urgent movement from the person beside him as they tried desperately to save his life. Then, without realising why he was doing this, indeed, without really noticing what he was doing, he whispered brokenly, his breathing shallow.
"Wound – won't close... Blood - blood rep-replenishing p-p-potion won't-t w-work." Having finished, he coughed weakly, his eyes closing for a final time, his breathing stuttering, and his heartbeat slowing to a stop.
"NO!" yelled Remus, feverishly gathering the limp form in his arms and tucking the bloodied knife in his belt. Then he stood up sharply, and, staggering under the weight, from having run through the castle, and from his emotions, he made his way out of the room and through the castle, constantly muttering under his breath.
"No, he can't be dead, I won't let him die, don't leave me Harry, hold on Harry, please Harry, don't die, you can't be dead, I won't let you die, don't leave me Harry..."
Hospital Wing.
Madame Pomfrey sat on the edge of one of the beds, smoothing the crisp white sheets with one hand. She was worried, worried about her missing patient. Over the past few years, Harry had been in the hospital wing countless times – from Quidditch, fights with Slytherins, the odd tussle with a Dark Lord, but none of them frightened her as much as this last incident had. She had no idea what had happened, and Harry hadn't exactly been in the mood to tell anyone. Then Remus had returned early to check on Harry, only ten minutes after he'd left, and Harry had gone. Vanished. Remus had turned whiter than the sheets (and that was saying something), muttered a quick spell and rushed off. She sighed. What was happening now?
She jumped as the doors next to her banged open, and a sweating, panting and thoroughly distressed Remus Lupin ran through the door holding a limp bundle. He laid it carefully on a bed, and sank down next to it, looking like he was going to be sick. Madame Pomfrey edged cautiously over to the bed, and after bending down to Lupin who waved her away breathlessly; she turned to the bundle and lifted a section of cloth. The pale, still face of Harry Potter looked up at her calmly. Trying not to scream, she covered her mouth with her hand, and after a second, pulled herself together. Harry needed her help, and by the looks of it, fast.
Moving quickly and deftly, she found the roughly bandaged cuts on his wrists. Gritting her teeth, she removed the bandages, only to find they were still bleeding profusely.
"The wound won't close on it's own, and a Blood Replenishing Potion won't work." Said Remus, pulling his tortured body upright, then collapsing on a chair. She flashed him a puzzled look, but she knew she didn't have time to go into how he knew. Thinking deeply, she summoned a few potions from her stores, and grabbed them out of the air. Normally she would disapprove of using magic like this, but she had a life to save, even if he didn't want it.
A few tense minutes passed as she feverishly waved her wand over the cuts, muttering all the blood-clotting and healing charms she knew. Then, picking up the bottles and vials, she dribbled their contents through the boys' lips, massaging his throat to help him swallow. She turned to see Remus stand groaning and muttering a few spells of his own on himself, then watched amazed as he limped out of the hospital wing. Turning back to her patient, she noticed a few glamour spells, but thought nothing of them.
Happily noting the vague colour on his cheeks, the faint and weak pulse and the shallow breathing, she knew he would live, this time – which brought her back to why he was here. After she had treated him when he had brought in last time, she had started to guess that he had tried to commit suicide, but this new evidence proved it.
Madame Pomfrey looked up again as the doors banged open, and Dumbledore, Lupin, McGonagle and Snape strode in, wearing almost identical expressions of fear and worry. Even Snape looked worried. She nodded at him as he passed her some more potions, which she carefully administered. McGonagle was nearly in tears, Lupin looked defeated and sad. Albus, however, masked his expressions as he inspected the wounds. Then, without even talking to anyone else, he muttered something under his breath, and a golden wall appeared around the bed, which faded just as it was outlined by an identical wall of blue.
Seeing their puzzled and questioning expressions, he explained.
"The first was to make sure that Harry couldn't leave, by apparition or any other way. It will be stronger than the ward on the castle, so he can't escape. The second was to prevent him hurting himself." They nodded vaguely, and took up seats around the bed on which lay a small, unconscious little boy.
Later.
When Harry finally woke, he cursed. Alive again, and back in the bloody hospital wing! Memories flooded back, and he groaned. Not only was he alive, but now Lupin knew. And the rest of them, Harry was willing to bet they were waiting for him to wake up, and probably wanted to start telling him not to blame himself, and the old time favourite 'it'll be alright'. Yeah, right.
Sitting up, he noticed the ring of people around his bed. Dumbledore, Lupin, Pomfrey, McGonagle, blimey! Even Snape was there. They were all looking at him. Harry found this a bit disconcerting, so he pulled himself upright and huddled, pulling his knees against his chin and wrapping his arms loosely around his legs.
When Harry had cursed, Lupin had felt a ray of hope, and nearly smiled. At least he was alive, and awake. Then he watched as the boy sat up and saw them all. An array of emotions flitted across the boys' face – pain, loss, despair, defeat, fear, worry, and suspicion, as Harry cowered in a corner of the bed.
"We're glad to see you're awake, Harry." Said Dumbledore, quietly so as not to frighten the already traumatised boy. He was heartbroken to see the once-vibrant boy huddled and cowering.
"I know how you feel, Harry. It hurts. It hurts so much you want to die. You don't feel like life could ever be the same again." Lupin said gently, looking into Harry's eyes. Whatever reaction they had expected, it wasn't. Harry felt anger rise in him quickly, and he exploded, shocking the ring of adults, and blasting magic so powerful several of the beds in the wing slammed against the walls.
"YOU THINK YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL? YOU KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO HAVE YOUR HEART RIPPED OUT? YOU CAN'T FALL ASLEEP BECAUSE WHEN YOU DO, EITHER HE'S THERE OR YOU HAVE TO REPLAY HIS DEATH OVER AND OVER AGAIN?" He yelled, eyes flashing and frail body quivering with emotion. Lupin was the first to recover.
"Harry, I know what you're going through. We all do, we're here to help you." Harry managed to control his overwhelming anger enough to not yell – the sound was making his head throb painfully, and his mouth was parched. Instead, he spoke with venom, hate and barely controlled anger.
"You know what I'm going through? You don't want to know what I'm going through, and if you'd let me die, I wouldn't have to be going through it."
"We are here to help you, we want to know what you're going through so we can help you." Said Lupin, worriedly.
"You want to know? You really want to know?" Harry spoke no louder than a whisper, but it commanded all the presence of the most deafening of yells. "You want to know that I've lived the past 15 years in a hell-hole, where I was beaten for everything from breathing to looking up? You really want to know that as soon as I got home, my 'uncle'" he spat the word with all the hate he usually reserved for Voldemort. "my 'uncle' came up with a new punishment, and that I have been raped regularly for the past 2 weeks, and not just by my 'uncle' but my 'cousin'? You want to know that every night I have nightmares, Voldemort torturing me, my parents dying, Sirius dying, Cedric dying over and over again? You want to know that all of my life I've been starved, beaten, abused, and then when I'm happy, I get that wrenched away from me, and that now I find out that I'm supposed to kill the most powerful and evil Dark Lord the world has ever seen? Is that what you wanted to know?" Harry was panting slightly after this tirade, but the silence was so complete the sound of a pin dropping would have been deafening.
"You want to see the real me?" Without looking at them, Harry muttered something quietly, and the figure before them shimmered and changed.
Whereas before, Harry had been quite a healthy looking boy, with bright green eyes and unruly hair, they now saw him without his powerful glamour charms. His hair was matted and dirty; his body was gaunt and impossibly thin, with bones nearly poking out of thin, pasty flesh. Ever inch of his skin they could see was covered in scars, bruises, and cuts, and when he looked up, his eyes were deadened and haunting. It was the stuff of nightmares.
For a long while, everyone sat in shocked silence, staring at the almost unrecognisable figure before them. Then Remus spoke quietly and haltingly.
"God, Harry, we never knew. Why didn't you tell us?" Harry just looked at him slowly. The effect was terrifying.
"No, you never knew, and that was how my 'uncle' wanted it to be. He dictated all my letters this summer. Threatened more punishment" and here he shuddered "if I told anyone." Harry buried his face in his knees, hiding the tears he felt start in his eyes. He felt so ashamed – he had admitted his weakness. He had admitted to the beatings, the starvation, the nightmares, and the rape. They would hate him; think he was dirty and soiled. They would probably want him to leave Hogwarts so he didn't tarnish it with his presence. And they knew he had tried to commit suicide. He started shaking as he thought – no, they couldn't send him back to the Dursleys'.
After staring, shocked at the now shaking boy, Remus had pulled himself together slightly. He carefully approached Harry, and threw his arms around the boy, pulling him close to his chest. He felt the tears in his eyes again, and was severely berating himself inwardly as he rocked the traumatised person in his arms.
'He's James son, Sirius' godson, and we didn't realise. We didn't help him, didn't take him away from those people. We could've helped; we could've stopped it. We should've asked, should've noticed.'
Dumbledore was shocked. He had suspected that the Dursleys' were less than kind to their nephew, but never had he thought them capable of rape and abuse. He had let them down; they had trusted him and he had let them down. James, Sirius, Remus, everyone. Burying his face in his hands briefly, he brushed away the tormenting thoughts. That was in the past, and now it was done, it couldn't be undone. He had to help the poor vulnerable boy before him, the boy he had thought of as a son – the boy he had sent of to those monsters.
No one noticed as Snape swept silently out of the room. His face had long been devoid of any sneer, or any expression but that of shock. Dumbledore's Golden Boy, treated like that? He had expected the boy to live off golden plates, with the metaphorical silver spoon in his mouth, but obviously the truth was quite different – more like his own secret childhood. Absently, his mind was lining up a selection of potions and draughts for Po-Harry. After all Harry had been through, the last thing he needed was a pointless vendetta with a Potions Master, and too start off, he could at least use his first name. Yes, some Dreamless Sleep, a bit of this, and that, some of that old stock of Calming Draught. He hurried away to the dungeons, cloak billowing, face a myriad of emotions he had hidden for a long while.
Minerva McGonagle excused herself from the hospital wing, and collapsed onto the waiting room benches, a few rare tears gracing her wrinkled features. She was Head of Gryffindor House, it was her job to notice these things, and she had been there, nearly 16 years ago, she had tried to stop Albus leaving Harry with his relatives. If only she'd tried harder, been more persuasive, she could've saved him all this pain.
Back in the hospital wing, Harry gave up the last dregs of his tattered and torn pride, and hugged his fathers' friend fiercely, crying hard against the pain. Remus held him just as tightly, as if they would never let each other go.
Madame Pomfrey was bustling around the bedside table, selecting and dismissing potions. Really, she was just going through the motions, Harry's words echoing round her head like a carousel of pain. She sniffed, blinking away a few tears. It was her responsibility to help Harry, and she'd be damned if she wouldn't try her hardest. Selecting a particularly heavy Dreamless Sleep/Healing draught, she took a tentative step towards the bed. Taping Remus shoulder lightly, she handed him the bottle wordlessly, and walked off, not looking up, not wanting to see their painful expressions, in fear she would lose her own self-control. She walked out of the hospital wing and sat down next to her good friend, Minerva. Silently, they hugged each other, fighting back the shock.
Remus was still struggling with his emotions as he released Harry slightly. Harry whimpered slightly through his sobs at the loss of contact, but lay down as instructed and tamely took the draught he proffered. Lupin drew his chair directly next to Harry's bedside, and watched as he fell asleep, free from nightmares, and at peace at last.
Alas, poor Harry, what will happen next? Tune in next week, same bat-time, same bat-channel!
Review Responses! (yay!)
egyptian fire: thanks for the comment, and have posted more!
Rae Carson: think I'll nick that exclamation... 'ahem'! Wow, thank you, that is really amazingly nice of you, I've never had such praise! Thank you! I can't believe someone thinks my writing is really that good. Anyway, I'm sorry about the changing of POV thingy, but if you have any suggestions of making it better, I'll listen... Thank you once again, and hope this chapter is up to speck. And I will rr yours as soon as possible.
ElemantalAngel: thanks for reviewing! Here's some more as asked, but you'll have to wait a little longer to find out what happens... (I can be so evil sometimes!) Thank you again.
CandiGrlCan: Thank you for the review and the complements (all these people, being so nice to me... 'sniff'), and here's your chapter. Hope you weren't waiting too long!
-Wow, this is great, first chapter and already I have 4 reviewers! Thank you all! 'bows'.
Everyone else, please remember to review this, you know, that wonderful blue/purple/grey button just there, just a bit further, go on, I'll be really grateful and everything, please?