Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling deserves all credit

When Nightmares Are A Good Thing



Chapter 11: Scar Issues

Harry's first night back at headquarters could only be described as restless and miserable. The incessant burning in his stomach promised to be constant, even when Harry had done nothing to upset it. He nearly didn't finish all of his sit-ups because the pain was utterly blinding and when he found he wasn't going to be able to sleep, the usual coffee that he conjured and mixed for himself would not stay down, making the stinging afflictions bite harder than before.

The first stirrings of the household were observed, Harry put the book he had been reading to pass the night back into his trunk and started getting ready for breakfast, though no appetite was felt.

Green eyes flitted through the clothes in his trunk deciding on a pair of baggy blue jeans and a long sleeved rust red button up shirt with a crisp white tee shirt underneath. Tucking his shirttail in and slipping his wand into his large back pocket- despite Moody's warning last summer- Harry tied the shoelaces on his brown boots and made his way to the basement kitchen.

It seemed the only ones awake were Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Remus.

They all seemed to be rather surprised to see Harry up with the first light of day but welcomed him to the table. When Molly apologized for breakfast not being cooked yet, Harry told her not to worry about it and that he'd eat when the rest woke up. Inside his head he was thinking that way it would be easier to disguise his lack of hunger.

"So, Harry how was your summer?" Tonks blurted out. She immediately clapped her hand over her mouth in apology.

Harry sighed silently before replying, "It was fine, thanks."

Remus picked up on the need for a subject change by inquiring about what Harry thought he'd get on his owls.

"A P in Astronomy, History of Magic, and Divination. An A in Potions and Herbology and probably an E in Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, and Defense Against the Dark Arts," he'd answered calmly.

"I'm sure they won't be as low as you think. Especially your DADA. I think you'll most defiantly get an O on it, if nothing else," Remus said.

Harry shook his head, "Profess-"

"Remus or Moony."

"Right, um Remus, I didn't exactly learn anything in DADA last year. Unless you count how to spell the same line as you write it over and over again. I think that has to be the most tedious detention teachers use. If you have an itch to give a detention, be creative! Even Filch comes up with better things than that!"

A chuckle came from the werewolf's throat. "Your father once said the same thing, though he had about as many detentions as you do trips to the hospital wing."

Harry smiled slightly at him. "Well, the lines were a good punishment. They were just extremely dull and monotonous."

"Monotonous?"

Harry jerked his head towards the door to see Hermione, Ron, Ginny and the twins enter the room.

Hermione went into lecture mode. "Yes, Ron. Its means repetitive and redundant." She turned to look at Harry suspiciously. "What exactly was monotonous, Harry?"

Before he could answer Tonks took up the task for him by saying, "His detentions with Umbridge."

"Oh, so you've finally decided to tell an adult about that infernal –"

Her sentence was cut off as Harry leapt out of his seat and covered her mouth with his hand.

"Yes, Hermione. They now know about all of the detentions I spent writing lines."

His hand was peeled away quickly as she glared at him.

Ron decided to join in. "You mean they STILL don't know the whole story yet? You really ought to tell them, mate. I mean, they could put her in Azkaban or something."

Harry could smell defeat as the entire room recoiled at the notion that something horrible enough to earn Azkaban Prison had been inflicted upon Harry by Umbridge and was purposefully being kept a secret from them. He swallowed as he slowly turned around to face them. There was no way he could worm his way out of this one. They would bring in Dumbledore if he put up a fight to divulge the information, but yet he couldn't quite bring himself to offer it willingly. Thankfully he did not have to think on it any longer as his best friends took action.

Ron came up behind him and wrapped a hand around his left arm and placed the other on his shoulder to prevent him from fleeing. Meanwhile Hermione tool hold of his other wrist (Thankfully above his scab) and positioned the white scars on his hand for public viewing.

A gasp made its way around the room as the entire room's guests jumped out of their seats to get a better look at the words written on his hand, "I must not tell lies."

It was a full minuet before anyone spoke as no one was quite sure what to say. Though, Harry was sputtering indignation of anger in his own mind and thoughts.

"Lad, you'd best sit down and tell us the whole story," Moody growled.

Balling his fists tightly, Harry turned to Ron and Hermione of whom his anger was directed toward. He was rather thankful that they forced him to show his scar (if only to keep him from having to do I willingly) but at the same time was upset that they hadn't kept their mouths shut to begin with.

"WHY DON'T YOU JUST ASK HERMIONE!? She seems to know everything that's good for me! She's the one who forces all of my decisions! I'm sure Ron would be delighted to help interfere! Wouldn't you. Mate!?"

Ron's mouth opened dumbly as his eyes went wide and face burned crimson in anger at being shouted at. Hermione had the grace to look down at the floor. Harry could only assume that it was because she felt she was right but didn't want Harry to get even madder. This was her type of tactic she usually used when this sort of thing happened; Act like You're ashamed and sorry for what you have done, even though your not, to avoid conflict.

Harry sucked in a big breath before he exhaled. He could feel the room staring at him as he tried to clam down.

"Don't even start, Hermione! You may see nothing wrong with exposing my privacy against my own wishes, but I do so don't even think about pulling your "Apologetic innocent schoolgirl" act with me. You both knew that I had no intention of revealing this, yet you just went against my wishes. We've had this conversation before! Remember? You know my reasons," Harry fumed.

This time, Hermione heated up. "HARRY JAMES POTTER!! I can't believe how selfish you are being! Do you realize that the Order and the concerned parents of students have been looking for something like this to nail Umbridge with? Yet, you don't want to wound your pride to help out!"

That was the last straw. Harry's fists were clenched so tightly now that blood had been drawn from the fingernail digging into his palms. Suddenly the pitcher of pumpkin juice that was setting in the middle of the kitchen table exploded into millions of pieces. The juice sprayed everywhere as the glasses and plates exploded as well.

The boy tried his best to control his magic by clearing his mind and breathing in and out. The entire room was staring at him, he could feel it. When he felt like he could speak without screaming, yelling, or chunking items at the room's occupant's heads, Harry spoke softly.

"I'm selfish? Why am I selfish? I give up practically EVERY bit of my life for this world. I have NO privacy, no secrets, I know nothing about myself nor the family that I don't have. It seems like the world, that I am always giving to, knows things about my before I do. The people around me know when I am upset before I do, and when I am hungry or in pain before I do. I even think the world knew who I had a crush on last year before I even realized that I had one.

"I understand why the world wants Toad put in Azkaban. I understand that we need a reason, but why me? Hermione, Ron, you know for a fact that there is another person that was forced to use the quill. Why does it have to be me that have to show the world my scar and point the finger at the Toad? Would the other person not have been able to convict her just as easily? Yet I am selfish? All I wanted to do was keep the world from going bezerk with pity for me. I have no desire to be on the front page of the Daily Profit for this when there are other stories that need printed. Haven't I suffered enough by Umbridge's hand? No, I suppose not. "

Harry took in another breath as he surveyed the room. Hermione was crying in earnest. Ron was still red in the ears but now was sporting a look of apology on his face. Ginny was looking at him with a face devoid of any feeling of which Harry found odd. Remus seemed to be shocked and Tonks awed while Moody was glowing in respect. Mrs. Weasley was crying into her husband who appeared to be very sad.

The green-eyed teen sighed, "Look, I'm sorry I lost my temper with you guys. The story is that I lost my temper with Umbridge and she gave me detentions, particularly for telling anyone that Voldemort was back and that he had murdered Cedric. In detention she gave me a weird quill and told me to write, "I must not tell lies," onto a piece of parchment. There was no ink, but when I began writing I noticed that it seemed to use my own blood. I wrote that same line over and over during every detention she gave me."

He glanced over at his best friends, who looking more pitiful by the minute and said, "I really am sorry for taking my anger out on you. It's not you fault. I think I'd like to be alone now."

With that, Harry turned and walked from the room. He knew that they would attempt to talk to him soon and would check his room first, therefore, Harry found his way to the library.

Once inside, Harry searched through the limited variety of subjects. There were mostly dark arts books with a few potions and transfiguration thrown in. The boy selected a book that gave extensive definitions and incantations on some of the lighter dark art spells and sat down in one of the leather chairs.

It wasn't till two in the afternoon that Hermione and Ron stepped into the room. At first it seemed like nobody was going to say anything, but after a while Hermione flung herself at Harry repeating that she was sorry over and over. Ron shook his hand and Harry gave a short smile and things were back to normal. Words were not spoken as Hermione and Ron looked through the book collection and selected themselves a book to read.

It wasn't usually Ron's thing, to sit and read for hours on end, so when, after an hour or two, Hermione and Harry continued to check if he were bored, they were surprised to find that he was deeply immersed in his reading.

Hermione was starting on her second book Harry in the middle of his when there was a knock on the library door. None of them looked up to see that it was Ginny who walked through the door.

She watched the three, engrossed in their books, for a moment before doing her Umbridge impression.

"Hem, Hem!"

All three teens snapped to attention. Ginny laughed at the worry on their faces.

"Ginny that was not funny!" Ron stammered, his hand gripping the chair tighter than it should.

"Of course it was! Anyway, dinner is ready. Mum sent me to find you three."

Harry wished that he could find a way out of it, but knew that would raise questions and more people would try to "talk" to him about it. So he begrudgingly followed the rest into the kitchen for dinner.