Harry rolled over in his sleep. Hermione, out of fright, closed the Journal. Seeing that he didn't wake, she carefully got off of the bed. She then placed Harry's Journal on the bed and proceed to the bathroom. Once she got back, she sat back down on the bed. One hand held the Journal and the other ran through his hair.

((Entry Three))

August Fifth

My response of 'I'm fine. Leave me alone. I need to think. I'll be outside soon. I've just been very busy inside lately,' was probably not the best thing to send. ((Glares at Lupin)) He's here to pick me up, less then a day after the letter was sent, too.

Well, I've been doing my best to glare at him from a sideways glance. The right side of my face is looking away from him. I've got a nasty hand shaped slap from my Uncle this morning and a black eye.

"Harry, what are you writing in?" he asks. My reply is simple: my Journal.

"I never knew you had a Journal," he says. You never asked, I want to say, but refrain from it, answering: I've only had it since my Birthday. Dumbledore sent it to me and told me I had to write in it or else.

"Do you have to write in it now?" he asks. I look at him as best I can from my one good eye. Yes.

"Harry," he starts and then stops. He tries again: "Harry-" I sigh and close the book in defeat.

((Third Person, no one's POV))

"Thank you, Harry," said Remus.

"Yeah," was the only reply he got.

"Harry… can you please look at me, Harry?"

"No."

Remus just stared at him. "Why not?"

"Because I can't."

"Harry- I need you to face me, otherwise I will have no choice but to make you face me."

"No!"

"Harry," came the stern warn of Remus. Harry sighed and turned to face Lupin; some might say because he was afraid of what would happen to him while some might say that he was afraid of the reaction he would have to the hand slap across his face. The some who said the first choice were right: he was afraid of what Remus would do if he wasn't obeyed.

Harry sighed and turned to face Lupin, his head hung low.

"Harry, I need you to look at me," he said again.

"I am."

"Harry, please?"

He shook his head. Lupin took a step forward. Harry backed up out of fright. Harry was now against the wall and felt the bed dip with the weight of Remus sitting on it. He reached for Harry's face and tilted it upward.

He gave a gasp and dropped his hand. Silent tears were now running down Harry's face.

"Harry… who did this to you?" he asked. Harry didn't answer and the tears kept coming freely. "Harry, please tell me who did this to you." Harry shook his head and looked away. He then grabbed his Journal.

Lupin reached into his pocket and shoved something at Harry. "Emergency Portkey. Hold on. It will go off in… three- two- one-" he said, and Harry felt the familiar tug.

Harry landed with a thud next to Lupin in the middle of an empty Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. Remus then proceed to pull Harry towards a bed.

"Harry, stay here. I'll be right back with Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Poppy. Don't move, please." With that, he was off.

Harry sighed and wiped away the tears that he had cried. Then, he reached into his own robes and grabbed a quill and ink well.

((Third Entry, continued))

He took me to Hogwarts. I've been told to stay here and wait. If I don't, I'll only get in more trouble. Too bad I don't have my wand with me, otherwise I might be able to hide it and just say, "I have no clue what Lupin was talking about!" As if that'd ever work. And I think the 'Lupin' would give it away, too.

What did I do to deserve this? Was it because I was born? Because I never took Malfoy's hand? No, it's just because I'm Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Live- a title I've never wanted, yet have to be stuck with.

((Third person, no one's POV))

"Harry?" asked Professor Dumbledore. Harry put his Journal in his lap and the ink well and quill back into his pocket. He then looked up.

Poppy gasps and McGonagall let out a muffled cry. Dumbledore's eyes lost their twinkle. Harry looked away while Remus repeated his question: "Who did this to you, Harry?"

Harry remained quiet. Luckily, he had on a long sleeve shirt. Lupin had come to get him after Harry had made breakfast and after he dressed. Otherwise, they would have seen the hand marks that had grabbed his arms to lug him down the stairs and they would have seen numerous scars- old and new- on his left.

He had started a bad habit: cutting. The freshest of were last night. Subconsciously, he traced the curves on his left arm.

"Harry?" asked Lupin again, brining him out of his stupor. He turned to face Lupin once again. "Harry, please, tell us who did this to you. Then we can help you. Please."

Harry remained quiet. Lupin kneeled down next to Harry's bed and took his hand into his quite larger one. "Harry, please, please, tell us who did this to you." Harry risked looking at Lupin and saw tears falling down his face. Harry shook his head.

"I can't," was all he said.

"Please, Harry. If not for me, for the sake of Sirius. I know he wouldn't like to see you like this and would do anything to help you, just like I. But I can't do anything unless you tell me who did this to you. Please."

Harry shook his head and leaned back. He voiced his feelings just this once, "I killed him, Lupin, I killed him," he sobbed. He rolled over to avoid looking at Lupin again and ended up falling off the bed. Once on the ground, he wrapped his arms around his legs and continued to cry, full out, for the first time since he died.

Lupin walked around the bed and sat next to Harry. He then picked up the boy and sat him in his lap. 'He barley weighs a thing,' thought Lupin. At first, Harry tensed up, but after a while, he leaned into the embrace of the werewolf and cried.

"Shhh, Harry, it's all right," he soothed. Albus, McGonagall and Poppy walked around and sat themselves down on the bed opposite them. Once Harry was done, he looked up at Remus and whispered, "You must hate me," and crawled off his lap. Fortunately for Lupin, he thought Harry might try to, so he grabbed him back.

"No, I don't hate you," he said, placing Harry back on his lap and moved him around so he could get comfortable. He then rapped his arms around Harry and pulled him into a hug. "No, I don't hate you, Harry. I could never hate you."

"But I killed him. Oh god, I killed him!" Soon, Harry had cried himself into a deep sleep. Poppy nodded to the bed that he was leaning against. Lupin stood up with Harry still in his arms and placed him on the bed. McGonagall stepped back.

"You didn't need help," she stated. Lupin shook his head and voiced his earlier thought, "he barley weighs anything."

"Minerva, Remus, take a side along Harry. I need to wake him up so I can check him over, but I doubt that your help won't be appreciated." They nodded and Lupin stayed where he was and Minerva walked around to the other side. Poppy raised her wand at Harry, and the lowered it, shaking her head. She turned around and came back with a couple potions bottles. "Calming droughts will be needed, I'm afraid." She then placed them on the table next to her. Raising her wand once again, she woke him up.

Harry's eyes fluttered open as he took in the sight around him. He finally groaned as he remembered why he was here.

"Harry," said Poppy, "we need you to take off your shirt so I can check you over."

Harry's eyes grew wide and he shook his head, sitting up.

"Harry, please," said Lupin from his left. Harry went right, only to be blocked by his transfiguration Professor. Harry kept backing up to the back of his bed until he could go no farther, all the time shaking his head.

"Harry, please," said Lupin again. Harry looked at him with pleading eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, "but if you would have told me before, we could have helped you a different way."

"Harry, please, just take off your shirt," said Poppy.

He shook his head no and said, "you," barley above a whisper. He closed his eyes as Poppy, Remus, and Minerva came in closer. Harry tried, with bad results, not to flinch when Lupin put his hand on his left should and the same with Minerva. At the same time, they reached down for the bottom of his shirt and pulled up quickly. Harry's arms came up along with the shirt. Once it was off, Poppy looked at him and let out a gasp.

On the left side of Harry's torso was a huge off-colored bruise. Harry probably had no fat on him anywhere: you could see his ribs; he was skin and bones. His right arm had several hand marks that were probably of the same handprint that was on his face. His left arm…. his left arm had cut all up and down the length of it. Some of the cuts were bleeding, some were day-old cuts and others looked very old.

Lupin whispered, "How much of this did you do yourself?" He dreaded the answer to come.

Eyes still closed, Harry answered with the wave of his left arm.

"Harry, can you please roll onto your back for me?" she asked quietly. Tears had sprung into his eyes by now, but he did what he was told to do.

On his back were welt marks and red slashes made where his hands could not reach. Some of the welts were bleeding while others weren't. Poppy grabbed three vials of a thick, white substance and handed one each to her two helpers. She poured a little on her fingers and rubbed them on the open wounds, causing Harry to hiss out in pain.

"Only put this on the open cut, please," she said, "I have to get some other potions. I'll be right back. Don't let him out of your sight." With that, she left.

"Harry," whispered Lupin again, "who did this to you?"

Harry shook his head the best he could while still on his stomach.

"Harry, please. Please! If you tell us who did this, we can make it stop. You won't have to go back to your Aunt and Uncles anymore. Please, for the people who love you."

"But that's it, Lupin, no one does love me," said Harry with his face facing toward the Transfiguration Teacher. She saw tears that continued to fall down his face.

"But people do love you. I do. Sirius did. What about Ron, Hermione, Ginny, the rest of the Weasley gang? Harry, you have so many people who love you," said Lupin.

Harry turned his head to face Lupin. "Think for a minute, Lupin. You love me and Sirius did? I highly doubt that. I was and am your only link to the past. You love me because I'm James' son, not for me. It was the same with Sirius. Ron and Hermione are friends, and I don't even know if I can say that about Ron much longer. He's jealous. If he wants to switch lives, I have no problem with that. Ginny? She just has a crush on The-Boy-Who-Lived, or at least did. The Weasley's just have me over because I'm a friend of Ron's. They don't love me. They never will."

"I have and Aunt and an Uncle who hate my guts, call me names, call my parents hoes, bitches, and bastards! They didn't want to take me in, but they had to: Dumbledore made them! And, now, to top it off, they beat me! And you, because you don't want to loose the last thing from the 'good days', came and checked up on me. To what? Drag me to this hell whole where you think that putting some crap on my back can make it all better? To tell me that you love me; that I'm needed to save the world from Voldemort." By now, Harry was sitting up and Lupin was sitting on the bed next to Harry. He had taken to being called Lupin very hard and had tears streaming down his face, as did Harry.

"Well, you know what I've been thinking lately, even though I may not have written it down in that dreaded Journal that bastard of an old man is making me write in, is: 'I wonder what it would be like if Voldemort killed me.' After all, I would be with my mum and dad. But then again, you blessed people wouldn't have the Savior of the Wizarding World. Your lives would fall to shambles because he's killed off family members. I don't want it any more!"

"I want to be normal, to live a normal life. To have a mother and a father who love me for who I am. I want friends who look at me as a friend, not the damned bloody Boy-Who-Lived. I want to not be afraid of getting close to anyone just to have them die- because of me! I don't want to have to go through almost getting killed at least once a school year because of the man who killed my parents is after my blood."

"No, actually. If I could just be told what I am, who I'm part of, what I'm involved in, and what I have to do- with in a reasonable limit- I wouldn't mind being the bloody Boy-Who-Lived. You know what that damned bastard did? He kept the prophecy from me. That prophecy is my whole life now! Has he bothered to tell you?" Lupin nodded his head. "And how long have you known?"

"Since I started working here as the Defen-" he started.

"So you've known longer than I have, in other words. He kept that from me. He told me he tried to tell me, but I doubt that, too. I can not grow to trust that man anymore after what he's done to me and what he's still bound to do to me! God, I'm the weapon he was talking about before. I have to be murdered or be a murderer, Lupin! I have the weight of the world on my shoulders and it won't be off until I kill that blasted damned fool!"

((End of Third Entry))

Hermione wiped her eyes. That's why Harry was in the hospital wing. That's why Harry and Remus Lupin hadn't gotten on along well until the end of the year. He blamed himself for the death of Cedric… for the death of his God-father! 'And he never told anyone,' though Hermione.

She looked down on Harry, hand still moving through his hair. She shifted the book to her lap and continued to read, wondering if he still cut.

AN: A semi-edited version… I went over and did a few grammatical errors and re-worded part of it, too. No different, really.