Here you go, been a while :/. Sorry for the wait, hope you enjoy!
Chapter Four: Defense Against the Dark Arts
Harry hated Wednesdays. Everything bad seemed to happen on Wednesdays and he didn't like it. Plus, the previous two days of classes had already tired him out, and they were barely halfway done their week.
"Harry!" Theodore whined. "You've woken up at 6am the past two days! Why're you sleeping in now? You missed breakfast! And you missed Defense on Monday. You can't miss this one!" Harry let Theodore blabber on while he covered his head with his pillow.
"I'm not going," He said firmly, trying to tug the covers up some more. But he felt some resistance and his blankets were soon pulled off him, leaving him exposed in his pajamas to the cold, drafty room. He lifted his head up to glare at Theodore, who was glaring back at him with a mutinous look.
"Why not? You can't skive off in the first week of school!" Theodore sounded scandalized, reminding Harry of Hermione again, and he shook his head, covering his face with his pillow. "Harry!" But Harry ignored the rest of Theodore's protests, his fear and anxiety of having to face the Defense professor again making his muscles tremble as the darkness hissed quietly inside of him.
"We'll get Professor Snape," Blaise threatened casually, and Harry whipped his head around to glare at the other boy. His friend raised an eyebrow in challenge, smirking, and Harry grumbled in annoyance.
"Not fair," He hissed, and Blaise grinned, saluting him. Harry groaned, before sitting up. "Fine." He grabbed his clothes and shuffled into the bathroom, changing quickly before his friends could see just how thin he was and the scars on his back. Once finished brushing his teeth, he made his way back to his friends.
"Who knows, Harry? Maybe Defense will be alright today," Theodore said carefully, and Harry only grunted in disagreement. He knew it wouldn't be alright today. The darkness was already banging around against his ribs, and his muscles were trembling, as if anticipating the pain.
The closer they got to the classroom, the worse his headache got, and Harry gritted his teeth, walking stiffly over to an empty desk beside Ron, sitting down. The redhead was watching him worriedly.
"Hey, mate, are you alright?" He asked quietly, and Harry nodded once, clenching his wand as he stared straight ahead, trying to squish the darkness down. It wasn't liking that and was stabbing his side in anger.
"Yeah, I'm fine," He said just as Quirrell started talking, his voice grating against Harry's ears. He closed his eyes, resisting the urge to put his head in his arms and felt his resentment grow. He didn't even understand why he had to come here. Quirrell was just telling them another useless story and yet Harry had to sit here while pain pierced his skull and the darkness raged inside him, all because he wasn't allowed to skip class.
Unfortunately for Harry, Quirrell seemed to be more perceptive today. "M-Mr. Potter, y-you are n-not supposed t-to s-s-sleep while I-I'm teaching a l-lesson," He said, crosser than Harry had ever heard him before. Harry's own annoyance spiked in response, and he opened his eyes to glare.
"It's not like I'm missing much anyways," He said defiantly, and he saw Professor Quirrell's eyes flash dangerously. Harry did not care, the darkness responding in kind to the man's hostility.
"Detention, M-Mr. Potter," Quirrell said, and Harry narrowed his eyes, his frustration growing. "P-Pay attention or I-I'll give y-you a-another." Harry gritted his teeth but nodded. Quirrell nodded as well, his mouth in a thin line, then turned back around to face the rest of the class. "N-Now, class, p-pay attention to the w-w-wand movements for the r-red s-sparks we were d-d-discussing last c-class."
Harry trembled with anxiety and the darkness was getting agitated in response to his fear of having to face Professor Snape next period after getting another detention. It didn't help that his resentment towards Quirrell was also making itself known and refused to be pushed back down, which only encouraged the darkness. Harry could feel his control slipping, and his hands started to shake with the effort.
"Harry?" Ron asked from beside him once Quirrell was done with his lesson and allowing them to practice the spell. Red sparks were flashing all around them, and Harry trembled. "Are you alright?" Harry nodded.
"I'm fine," He said, and waved his wand frustratedly. Which wasn't the best decision, not when the darkness and resentment were still swirling furiously inside of him. Instead of red sparks, the window across the room from them exploded, the glass shattering.
Harry's wand fell from his hand as his eyes widened in shock and fear. His classmates screamed, some even ducking under their desks, and Harry felt his breathing grow rapid as he picked his wand back up.
"C-Class, s-settle down!" Quirrell said over the noise, repairing the window with a flick of his wand and a muttered spell. The students didn't seem to be listening. "C-Children! E-E-Enough!"
Harry's headache was ramming into his skull at this point, and he fell back, his chair clattering as he hit the ground. Ron yelped in surprise and knelt down beside him. Harry could hear the boy whispering comforting words at him, but he didn't respond, closing his eyes tightly as he tried to make the darkness settle down.
"I'm okay," He finally whispered hoarsely and pulled himself back up onto his chair. Ron watched him carefully before sitting down as well and continued speaking softly to him. Harry was aware that Ron was trying to engage him into a conversation, but he tuned the other boy out, counting down from 10 in his head repeatedly, forcing himself to calm down. He felt bad, ignoring his friend like that, but Harry couldn't afford to pay attention to anything beyond the darkness that was storming inside of him.
"Mr. P-Potter? Do you-you h-have to go b-b-back to the H-Hospital W-Wing?" A new voice asked, and he stiffened, gritting his teeth. "Mr. P-Potter?" Harry couldn't speak past the cloying darkness in his throat, so he simply nodded. "A-Alright. D-Do you n-need someone t-t-to take y-you?" Harry stood up, flinching back when Ron reached out a hand in support and sent his friend an apologetic smile.
"I'm alright. I can walk," He said quietly, shrugging slightly. "Thanks, Ron." Ron only nodded, watching him carefully as if he didn't quite believe Harry, but let it go, sighing. "I'll meet you in Potions."
Ron nodded again and Harry left the defense classroom, trekking slowly up the stairs to the Infirmary. He wasn't looking forward to seeing the nurse again, or Professor Snape, because she would no doubt call him to the Hospital Wing. He didn't think that he'd be able to control the darkness if Professor Snape said any of his usual scathing remarks, so he spun on his heel and left the castle.
He didn't run into any professors or fellow students on his way out of the castle and he managed to get to an isolated area on the grounds, much to his relief.
And, for the first time in a long time, Harry purposely let the darkness out. He inhaled deeply as the thick, cloying darkness slowly flowed from his hands, pooling like fog around his feet. He could feel its satisfaction with finally being allowed out and Harry let that satisfaction soothe the anger inside of him. Finally, after a few minutes, Harry took in a deep breath and reeled the darkness back in, and it willingly settled down, sinking deep into his bones.
He closed his eyes, standing as still as possible for another few seconds before he took in another deep breath and headed back inside. It was Potions now and Harry was dreading the encounter with Professor Snape he was due to have. He managed to make it to class just in time and he slipped into the last available seat, avoiding Professor Snape's eyes as the man glared at him.
He glanced over at the Gryffindor boy that was beside him and watched the boy warily, aware of the hostility between their Houses. The boy gave Harry a shy smile, surprisingly, and Harry tilted his head.
"My name's Neville," He said, holding out a hand, and Harry nodded in recognition.
"Harry," He said, waving instead of shaking his hand, the darkness a little too close to the surface for Harry to risk physical contact. Neville didn't seem offended, he didn't even seem to notice, and Harry smiled gratefully. "So, did you find him?"
Neville paused, his eyebrows bunching up in confusion. "Pardon?"
"Your toad," Harry elaborated patiently. "Did you find him?" Neville blushed when he realized what Harry was talking about, but his embarrassment was slowly replaced by a soft, grateful smile. Harry watched him curiously, enjoying how the boy's shy expression melted away quite easily with a little bit of friendly acknowledgement on Harry's part.
"Yeah. I'm surprised you remember," Neville said softly, and Harry shrugged, suddenly feeling anxious for some reason, and instead turned his attention elsewhere, opening his book. He could feel Neville's eyes on him, but the Gryffindor didn't continue their conversation, turning to the front as well.
Just in time too because Professor Snape started to talk. Harry pulled out a sheet of parchment and a quill and frowned, flexing his hand. He was itching for a pen, or a pencil, anything other than this awfully uncomfortable quill. Seemed completely impractical to him, too, the use of a quill. He shook his head, shoving those thoughts away and forcing himself to focus on Professor Snape's lecture.
Harry furrowed his eyebrows, hurrying to write faster to keep up with the professor's words, even though Professor Snape wasn't talking that fast to begin with. Writing with this quill meant that Harry was a lot slower than he usually was. He bit his lip, leaning closer to his desk as he tried to focus on making his lines straight and his letters clear, even with his hand cramping. But his focus was broken when his Head of House cleared his throat, rather aggressively, and Harry startled before wincing when he realized that the man had asked him a question.
Harry swallowed thickly. "I'm sorry, sir, could you repeat the question?" He asked hoarsely, and Professor Snape sneered, his eyes alight with vindictive delight. Harry gritted his teeth, feeling the resentment bubble up, clawing at his throat, and he coughed softly to clear it.
"Why do you think you have the permission to doodle on your paper instead of listening to me when I'm teaching?" Professor Snape hissed, and Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes.
"I don't," Harry said, and his Head of House sent him a dark look. "Sir."
"You don't? Well then, pray tell, why are you not paying attention?" Professor Snape all but snarled, and Harry gritted his teeth, his hands clenching into fists as they sat in his lap.
"I am paying attention, sir. If you had bothered to ask, I would have told you that I wasn't doodling, but taking notes." He lifted his head up defiantly, glaring at the professor, who's scowl was getting nastier the more he talked. Harry could almost feel the fear fluttering in his chest, willing him to quiet down, but for once, Harry wasn't scared. The anger that had built up over the days was too strong and, coupled with the knowledge that nothing this man could do to him came close to the horrors that he had already experienced, quelled his fear to a mere whisper in the back of his head.
Professor Snape's scowl was downright menacing at this point. "I would suggest you think about your next words very carefully, Mr. Potter, lest you say something you'll regret," He said silkily, and Harry jutted his chin out.
"I don't," Harry said stiffly, and Professor Snape arched an eyebrow, his dark eyes sparking with anger.
"Pardon me?"
Harry cleared his throat. "I don't regret it, sir."
Harry saw it, in the man's eyes, he saw when he snapped, and Harry stiffened, bracing himself for the onslaught. "Detention, Potter," Professor Snape hissed lowly, his hands shaking with barely contained rage, and Harry didn't push, nodding sharply. He knew when enough was enough. Harry could feel Neville's eyes on him, but he ignored it, hunching forward, and focusing on brewing the potion.
"Harry?" Neville finally broke the silence, and Harry glanced over at him. Neville shifted, running a nervous hand along the desk, before biting his lip. "Why'd you do it?"
Harry didn't answer right away, chopping up the bat spleen and dumping it into the potion before speaking. "I don't like bullies," He said simply, shrugging, and Neville furrowed his eyebrows, but didn't push. "Hey, can you crush this?" He pointed towards the ginger on the desk and Neville nodded, reaching out for it.
"Wow, Harry! I think this is actually working," Neville commented, grinning as he peered into their bubbling cauldron. "I really didn't think I'd be able to do this."
Harry glanced over at the other boy before shaking his head. "Don't sell yourself short, Neville. You're a strong wizard," He said easily, stirring the potion seven times counter clockwise as commanded. Neville looked over at him, seeming startled but smiled.
"Thanks, Harry," Neville said quietly, and Harry tilted his head, unsure what exactly he had said that made him so appreciative. Harry only spoke the truth and any good teacher would notice it too.
"You shouldn't let him scare you," Harry stated firmly, adding more ingredients to their potion when it took on the necessary iridescent gleam.
"What?" Neville asked, seeming frazzled, and shot a quick glance towards their professor, who wasn't paying them any mind, helping out another pair of students. Harry glared at his Head of House before shrugging.
"If you think about it, what can he really do to you?" He pointed out, sprinkling in some sea salt. "He can't do anything to harm you, no matter how angry he gets." Neville seemed to ponder this but winced, not seeming convinced. Harry didn't try to push him any further, stirring their potion as he waited patiently for Neville to say something if he wished.
"He's intimidating, though. He scares me and I mess up and then he gets angry," Neville whispered nervously, and Harry stiffened.
"That's not your fault, though, Neville. This is our first time learning potions! Of course we're going to mess up. That's not your fault, and it's not your fault when he can't control his temper," Harry said firmly, but paused when he saw the look on Neville's face. Harry blushed, gritting his teeth as he turned his gaze onto his desk, shocked at how much he had just blurted out. He didn't know he would say that much before he said it, and he didn't know how passionate he was about the topic before his words got away from him.
"How do you know that?" Neville asked quietly, breaking the silence, and Harry flinched at the intense look on the boy's face. Harry turned away, staring into the cauldron as he shrugged.
"I've dealt with someone similar to him before," He said vaguely, waving a hand around, and Neville frowned.
"That why you don't like bullies?" Neville's voice was gentle, soothing, but Harry still felt his anxiety spike. He nodded.
"Yeah." He shifted uncomfortably, but Neville didn't seem to be picking up on his signals, too consumed with his own worry to pay attention to Harry's emotional state.
"Was it here? At Hogwarts?" Neville was whispering still, and Harry was silent, reaching out for the beetle eye necessary for their potion. "Was it back with your relatives?"
Harry flinched and the beetle eye he was attempting to crush shot out from under his knife, shooting across the room. Both boys looked over at Professor Snape immediately, Neville's eyes wide with fear, but the professor didn't seem to have noticed, content with ignoring the two of them.
Harry relaxed in relief. He could feel Neville watching him worriedly, but instead of answering him, Harry walked over to the beetle eye to pick it up and toss into the bin. Luckily, he had grabbed three beetle eyes at the start of class, just in case, so he was able to avoid having to walk past Professor Snape to the supply closet. Instead, he walked back to his desk, passing Hermione and Blaise, who were watching him worriedly, but Harry only shrugged at them as he sat back down.
"I'm sorry, Harry," Neville said quietly, and Harry shook his head.
"Don't worry about it," He said, trying to sound nonchalant, but even he could hear the stiffness in his voice. Neville opened his mouth as if to say something more, but he seemed to decide against it, nodding instead. "The potion is good to go. Ready to bottle it up and hand it in?" Neville nodded again, smiling, and Harry gave a small smile back, still a little anxious.
"I can bring it over," Neville said, but despite the boy trying to hide it, Harry could hear the tremble in his voice. Neville reached for the bottle, but Harry stood up.
"Don't worry, I can bring it over," He said reassuringly, and Neville nodded, relief in his eyes. Harry scooped up a bit of potion before walking over to Professor Snape's desk. He hesitated, but the man didn't look up. He knew that the man knew he was there, what with the deepening of his scowl, but the professor didn't say anything. Harry was keen on getting away from his professor as soon as possible, so he turned to flee, but before he could, Professor Snape stopped him.
"Mr. Potter," He said silkily, and Harry froze, his body stiffening. "Stay after class." Harry nodded and walked back to his desk, barely stopping himself from sprinting away from the man.
Neville was watching him, a sympathetic frown on his face. "Sorry, Harry," He said, wincing slightly, and Harry waved him off, shrugging.
"Not your fault," He said quietly, packing up his things slowly. Neville frowned, looking like he disagreed, but he only nodded once again and started packing up his things as well.
Harry remained in his seat while his classmates left, a few sending him furtive glances as they walked by that Harry pretended not to notice. The classroom was silent for at least ten minutes after everyone had left, Professor Snape sitting at his desk as he finished whatever marking he was doing. Harry watched the dark-haired man, eyeing him carefully in order to notice any change in his expression right away.
The man's scowl deepened, and Harry tensed, watching as his Head of House stood up, putting his papers away before walking over to Harry, his steps silent like a cat on the hunt.
"Mr. Potter," Professor Snape hissed, and Harry forced himself to meet the man's eyes. "Tell me, are you even capable of understanding what others tell you or are you too much of an idiot to learn from your mistakes? Because clearly, you haven't listened to anything I've said before." Harry gritted his teeth, looking down at his feet as Professor Snape leaned forward, his face a deep threatening scowl. "I expect you to treat me with respect, Potter. I thought I made that quite clear in our conversations before. So, I ask again, are you even capable of listening?"
Harry gritted his teeth, nodding. "Yes sir."
"Really? Because you certainly aren't showing me that." Professor Snape crossed his arms as he glared down at Harry. "I will repeat this one more time, Potter, and if you don't listen this time, I will make sure that you face the consequences. Understood?" He raised an eyebrow, and Harry nodded. The man scowled.
"Sorry. Yes sir," Harry said quietly.
"You will not get special treatment here, because, despite what the wizarding world claims, you are not special." Professor Snape's expression darkened, if that was even possible, and Harry ducked his head, the darkness stirring inside of him. "You walk around here like you deserve all the praise you get! For what? Not listening to your professors, backtalking, assaulting your peers?" He closed his eyes, tuning out his professor as he tried to focus on controlling the darkness. But it was hard. He was angry, and frustrated, and sad that his Head of House wasn't much different from his uncle, just as hateful and cruel, and just as capable of cutting Harry to pieces. "Are you even listening to me, Potter?!"
Harry flinched violently, Professor Snape's voice snapping him out of his daze. "Yes sir," Harry whispered. Professor Snape sneered.
"Lies," He hissed. "I'm not blind, Potter." Harry remained silent, and the man scoffed. "Arrogant, just like your father! Bullheaded and mediocre at best as well, just like him, thinking he doesn't have to listen to his betters!"
Harry could feel the darkness getting stronger the longer Professor Snape ranted on about his father, and soon his fear of what would happen if he lost control was overriding his fear of Professor Snape's anger. So, before he could think about it any longer, Harry turned and ran out of the classroom, the door slamming closed behind him.
He took the stairs two at a time, terrified that the man was following behind him, furious and ready to smite Harry with all the fury of a vengeful bully. Upon seeing Hedwig, he felt himself calm down, despite the fact that the wrath of Professor snape was still something he needed to worry about. Harry figured there was no point worrying about it right now, not until after he had spent some time with Hedwig and getting the darkness to calm down.
"Hey, Hedwig," Harry whispered quietly, petting her feathers slowly as she trilled quietly. She nuzzled his hand, and he smiled. "I think I messed up today." Hedwig blinked, and Harry sighed, running his fingers through her feathers. She hooted. "You'll stick by me, right? No matter if I'm bad?" Hedwig trilled quietly, rubbing her head against his chin. Harry smiled. "Thanks, Hedwig." Hedwig nipped him affectionately on his fingers and he glanced towards the door. "I should get to lunch."
He waved bye to Hedwig before making his way down the stairs and heading back into the castle. Exhaustion was dragging his body down, making his arms and legs feel heavy and limp. He stumbled to the dormitories and into his bed, curling up under the covers, too exhausted to even close the curtains. Before he knew it, he was fast asleep.
Harry woke up suddenly, his heart hammering as his eyes darted around the room. He didn't know what woke him up, whether it was in his dreams, or something in the room with him that made his hair stand on end. Either way, Harry was wide awake now, and he slowly pulled himself to his feet.
He smoothed out his clothes and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to make it look like he hadn't just spent an hour asleep. He squinted, glancing around and his eyes widened when he saw the time.
"Shit!" He cursed, leaping to his feet and dashing downstairs to the Great Hall. Out of breath, he reached out, but hesitated just before opening them, the anxiety causing his stomach to flip flop inside of him.
He inhaled deeply, before pushing the doors open and he hurried over to the Slytherin table. He made his way over to his friends, stepping between them and reaching over quickly to grab a bread roll. He grabbed two before turning to leave, but Theodore grabbed his sleeve before he could. Harry tensed, flinching slightly, but managed to control the darkness.
"Harry?" Theodore asked. "Are you alright? Where were you?" Harry nodded quickly, removing his sleeve from the other boy's grip before hurrying back out of the Great Hall. "Harry!" But he ignored him, making his way down the hallway and up the steps to the Charms classroom. No one was there yet, since he was five minutes early, so he sat down against the wall beside the door, eating the roll slowly.
Unfortunately, being by himself meant that all that was there with him was an empty silence, leaving a lot of room to be taken up by thoughts about what he said to Professor Snape. Not that he regretted what he said. Quite the opposite, he couldn't even pretend to dredge up anything remotely like guilt. Harry was tired, tired of forcing his way through classes and magic and pretending that it was all okay.
He sighed, playing with the fraying thread of his robes, but he didn't have to wait long until the others arrived at the classroom.
Theodore and Blaise were at his side instantly. "Hey, Harry," Theodore greeted again, and Harry nodded. "Are you hungry still?" He pulled out an apple, and Harry stiffened, his eyes widening in shock. He hadn't expected Theodore to bring him food from the Great Hall, to even care in the first place to make sure he had something to eat. Harry hesitated before reaching out slowly and taking the apple from the boy's hand.
"Thanks," He said quietly, and looked down at the apple in his hands, though he didn't miss the look that Theodore and Blaise exchanged. He ignored them, twisting the apple around in his hand, before taking a quick bite. He glanced around furtively, unsure if he was going to get in trouble for eating right now and finished the apple off in a few more bites. Theodore and Blaise were watching him, looking shocked, but neither commented, and they made their way into the classroom.
Harry sat with Theodore, and Blaise went to go sit with another student. The short professor entered behind them and made his way to the front. Harry glanced forward and sighed quietly when he saw the feathers again.
"Alright, children, we will be continuing the levitation charm. Those who have already managed, you will continue to practice," The charms professor said, smiling cheerfully. "You can never practice too much!" He flicked his wand and the feathers dispersed through the classroom, one for each student. Harry glared down at the feather on his desk. "Hop to it then, children! I will be walking around in case there are any questions."
He sighed again, before poking at the feather gingerly. He could feel the eyes of the other students on him as they watched him warily, obviously remembering the incident from last time. He hunched forward, embarrassed.
"Harry?" Theodore whispered, but Harry shook his head. "Harry-" The other boy paused when Professor Flitwick came up to their desk, and Harry avoided looking at the short man.
"No need to worry, Mr. Potter, you just need a little more control, and you should be able to do it without setting the feather on fire!" He said jovially, and Harry winced, doubtful. The professor continued, obviously seeing Harry's wariness. "Remember to focus on your intent, and the force of your magic."
Harry nodded slowly and closed his eyes, tightening his grip on the darkness that was starting to vibrate inside him in anticipation. He visualized his magic (or the darkness. He wasn't too sure if the two were separate anymore, or if they were both the same thing. He didn't know if that distinction even mattered) swirling inside of him. He pictured his magic (darkness) resting on his body like a second skin, rising and falling in tune with his breathing. Then he pictured pulling his magic (darkness) in closer to his body, focusing on centering it around his heart, regaining complete control of how it moved. He couldn't let the magic – the darkness – push out of him without him wanting it to, he had to tighten his hold on it so he could release it in the way he intended. Once he thought he had a good enough hold on his magic (darkness), he opened his eyes, lifting his wand.
"Wingardium Leviosa," He said quietly, and the feather started to float, softly rising up through the air. Harry held his breath in anticipation, the feather rising up to the ceiling. He took in a deep breath, sending a quick calming wave at the darkness, before he slowly brought the feather back down, letting it land on his desk.
"Well done, Mr. Potter, well done!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed, and Harry grinned, joy and relief rushing through him. The darkness didn't even seem that bothered either about the lack of destruction this time around. "Why don't you do a few more tries until the end of class?" Harry nodded but turned to look out the window instead when the professor moved on to the next group.
Harry didn't want to risk another go at doing the spell. His control was pretty good at the moment, but his magic and the darkness were still massively unpredictable, and he didn't want to push it. The professor could punish him if he wanted for not listening, but Harry was not bothered, not fearing whatever consequence the man could use. Even Professor Snape's punishments paled in comparison to his uncle's.
So, instead, Harry let his mind wander as he watched some students fly around the quidditch pitch, letting himself forget about magic and the darkness and his uncle for a little bit.
"Want us to wait for you?" Theodore asked, shifting nervously, and Harry shook his head. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah," Harry said, waving him off. "Don't worry about it. I'll meet you at dinner." Theodore still looked nervous, chewing his lip as his eyes darted towards the door to the potion's classroom. Harry gave his shoulders a push. "Seriously. Go. I'll be fine." Theodore's mouth opened, and Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. Luckily, Blaise took hold of Theodore's shoulders and steered him away from Harry.
"We'll see you at dinner, Harry," He said, and the two scurried down the hallway. Harry watched them go, sighing softly, before opening the door and heading in.
Professor Snape was sitting at his desk, and Harry approached hesitantly, the fear curdling in his stomach. He cleared his throat softly, waiting, but the man didn't look up, continuing to mark papers with harsh, bright red ink. Harry tapped the desk lightly.
"I'm here for my potion, sir," He said quietly, and Professor Snape inclined his head ever so slightly, so Harry figured the man heard. Well, he had to have heard, even with Harry almost whispering. The potions classroom was dead silent, heavy with hostility and Harry's fear. He swallowed thickly, splaying out his fingers against the desk, and Professor Snape huffed, glaring up at him. Harry flinched slightly, looking down at his feet, and he heard the desk drawer open.
"Take it and leave," The man sneered, and Harry nodded, still not looking at the man, reaching out slowly, feeling for the potion. He heard Professor Snape huff and the potion was in his hand.
"Thank you, sir," He said hurriedly before turning tail and hurrying out of the classroom as fast as he could. Once safe in the hallway, he tucked the potion into his pocket and made his way to the Great Hall.
Barely anyone stared at him anymore, either because they had met him and realized he was a freak who had done nothing to deserve fame or because they decided that being in Slytherin meant that he was an evil sociopath. Harry didn't really care about their reasons for ignoring him either way. He had his group of four, he didn't really need more, not when he was going to get rid of his magic. Then he would no longer be welcome at this school, and he would lose them all anyways. He slipped into a seat beside Blaise, Theodore sitting across from them.
"Well? How'd it go?" Theodore asked, and Harry shrugged, putting some broccoli, carrots, and chicken onto his plate. He could see out of his peripheral vision Blaise and Theodore exchange looks. "Did he yell at you?" Harry shook his head, stabbing a piece of chicken, and popping it into his mouth, chewing slowly. He glanced cautiously at the high table, but the professors seemed focused on their own meals and conversations, and Harry relaxed, turning back to his friends.
"He didn't say anything. Gave me my potion, and I left," He said quietly, pulling out the potion from his pocket with that reminder and drank it back quickly. He carefully placed the empty vial beside his cup, before turning back to his meal. "Nothing happened." Theodore continued to stare worriedly at him, biting his lip, and Harry gritted his teeth.
"Harry-"
"Teddy, it's fine, alright?" Harry said, exasperated, and stood up to leave, wanting out of the Great Hall and away from the questions. He glanced down at the plate in his hands, so used to clearing away his dishes, unused to not having to do all the chores anymore. He sighed, placing it down slowly, before stepping away from the table.
Theodore and Blaise didn't look very happy with him leaving, but neither one tried to stop him, cognisant of his dislike towards being touched, aware of what happened if they tried to stop him physically.
"Where are you going?" Blaise asked, but Harry ignored him, walking as fast as he could without breaking into a sprint towards the doors of the Great Hall, the stares from the other students making his hair stand on end. He had to get out or he was going to lose it, and he took in a deep breath, focusing on shoving the darkness down.
He didn't focus on anything besides controlling the darkness until he was out in the crisp, evening air, and he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes. He walked down towards the lake, stopping at the base of a big elm tree hanging down over the water, and he sat down. The solitary sound of the waves lapping up against the rocky beach with only the faint chirping of a distant bird accompanying it, calmed him down, and he lay back, closing his eyes.
He always got tired when he had to work hard to control the darkness. It was harder at home, especially when Uncle Vernon was in one of his moods, hellbent on taking it out on Harry, but the effort it took to control the darkness here at Hogwarts was still a lot. So, despite the fact that he already had a nap, Harry closed his eyes and let himself drift off.
"We should wake him," Harry heard someone whisper, and he heard a second person, who he assumed the first was talking to, respond with a scoff.
"Okay, go ahead then," They said. "You know how he is." Harry stiffened.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
The person chuckled humourlessly. "He doesn't like being touched. I doubt he likes being woken up either." Harry, not wanting to risk them trying to shake him awake, rolled over and opened his eyes. The two figures standing in front of him jumped in surprise.
"Harry! You're awake."
Harry didn't answer. He was pretty sure he knew who was standing in front of him, but he couldn't properly confirm quite yet, not when his spectacles lay somewhere on the grass beside him. He shot out a clumsy hand, searching, but he was saved from fumbling around when someone passed his spectacles over to him. He nodded in thanks before turning to look at them.
"Oh. Hey Hermione, hey Ron," He said, sitting up.
"Hey, mate," Ron said, sitting down beside him. Hermione sat down across from the two of them. "What're you doing out here?" Harry shrugged.
"I went for a walk but decided to have a quick kip."
Ron nodded. "Sure." He pulled out his books, sending an exasperated look at Hermione, who returned it with a haughty look of her own, before sighing and shrugging towards Harry. "Hermione says we should get started on our homework or something, though I don't see the big deal."
"Ronald! We spoke about this!" Hermione jumped in then, eager to explain exactly why it was so important to the two boys, who obviously weren't catching on fast enough for her liking.
"Come on, Hermione!" Ron complained, and Hermione narrowed her eyebrows, her expression getting even more high and mighty. Harry bit his lip nervously, not too keen on the argument that no doubt was going to break out between the two. Ron didn't seem like the type to accept being bossed around, and Hermione didn't seem like the type to back down.
Although Harry had only known her for a few days, he had interacted with her enough to know that she thought little of his and Ron's intellectual ability compared to hers. The way she tilted her chin and looked down at them over her nose, and her tone of voice reminded him of his aunt. Petunia acted and spoke like that to people she thought were stupid, or slow – often times that person was him – and he prepared himself to tune Hermione out if needed. Luckily, Hermione was no where near as cruel or vindictive as his aunt. Only a little bossy.
"It's important to set ourselves up for success. There's no point in slacking off and being lazy now when it'd come back to bite us when it's later in the term," She said, her voice sharp, grating, and Harry winced, fighting the urge to put his hands over his ears. Ron huffed.
"You can be a little less bossy!" He snapped, and a flash of hurt crossed Hermione's face before morphing quickly into anger. Harry stiffened, the fear growing stronger, and he had to clench his hands into fists to keep from losing it.
"I'm trying to help you!" She screeched, and Harry winced, turning away from the two.
"And we appreciate it! But you don't need to decide everything we do," Ron said, softening slightly at Hermione's hurt look. "I'm sorry for calling you bossy, but I don't think we need to be doing this much yet, you know?" Hermione paused, biting her lip, and Harry waited on bated breath, hoping that their argument was ending.
"Sorry. I'll try not to be as bossy, but it's going to get harder, so we're going to need to understand this material before moving on." Her tone was gentler now, and Harry relaxed. "Besides! It can be fun, us working together." Ron didn't look convinced, his lips pursed skeptically as he turned to the Slytherin boy.
"What do you think, Harry?" He asked, and Harry paused, considering. What Hermione said was true, and Harry was quite interested in learning as much as he could in the time that he was here at Hogwarts. He nodded.
"Sure. That sounds like a good idea," He said quietly, and Hermione smiled at them.
"Great! I have so much planned. I've made study schedules and written up a few outlines of what we should be learning. I'll make some copies and give them to you, so you can keep on track too-" She said rapidly, like she had transformed, her eyes taking on an almost frantic gleam, her smile morphing into something a little too intense. She was still talking, and Harry could feel himself getting overwhelmed. He glanced over at Ron, alarmed, but the redhead didn't seem too bothered, pulling out some quills and ink, and Harry closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.
"Harry, mate, are you alright?" Ron whispered, touching Harry's knee ever so slightly. Harry stiffened, but didn't lash out, Ron's hand away from Harry in less than a second. "Harry?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'm alright," He said, running a hand through his hair. He smiled weakly. "Quite a lot, huh?"
Ron, though he didn't look completely convinced, accepted the change of subject, nodding slowly as he sighed. "Yeah. We're going to have our work cut out for us, mate," He said, long-suffering. Harry grinned. Hermione rolled her eyes at them, passing them some parchment, and Harry took it as he pulled out his quill.
Ron paused, looking around him quickly. "Oh, 'Mione, can we-"
"Yeah," She said, moving her ink bottle between them, and Ron gave her a sheepish smile. "Harry?"
Harry, who had also forgotten his ink bottle, nodded. "Thanks." He unfurled his parchment, pulling out his potion's textbook. Hermione glanced between him and his book a few times before looking down at her paper, biting her lip. Harry sighed. "What's wrong?"
"Are you okay? After class today, with Professor Snape and everything," She blurted out hurriedly, and Harry could see Ron giving her a look to let it go, but Hermione ignored the redhead, staring at Harry searchingly. "And then you weren't at lunch, and we were worried."
Harry hunched forward, his lips in a taut line, not keen on talking about this after the turmoil that had happened when they had been arguing. The darkness hadn't completely settled as much as he wanted it to, and he didn't want to risk it. "It was fine, Hermione. I'm fine."
"Are you sure? If you're not, you can talk to us."
Harry brushed his hair away from his face anxiously. "Seriously. Drop it, okay?" He snapped, gritting his teeth, and Hermione narrowed her eyebrows.
"C'mon mate, we're just worried," Ron said, gesturing towards him. Harry splayed his hands out on his knees, his body tensing.
"And I said I was fine. You don't need to check in on me all the time!" He said, his voice rising.
"Harry! You don't need to yell!" Hermione said, her voice rising as well, and Harry glared.
"I'm not yelling! I just want you two to drop it!"
Hermione didn't look convinced, her eyes narrowing accusingly. "Why, though? We're just asking because we care about you! Why won't you-"
"Because I can't!" Harry finally snapped, and the darkness lashed out as his irritation and anger peaked, causing the ink bottle sitting between them to explode.
Everything – themselves, their books and parchment – was showered in black ink. Their parchment was pretty much ruined, dark splotches covering the pages, and their faces and robes were also littered with numerous ink spots that Harry knew weren't going to come out easy. His fear was practically choking him, immobilizing him as he waited for his friends to turn on him, to look at him accusingly and condemn him for losing control like that.
"Harry?" Ron asked quietly, and Harry flinched. The redhead was watching him cautiously, frowning nervously, and Harry swallowed thickly, pulling himself to his feet.
"I-I'm sorry," He choked out, before he grabbed his things and ran.
"Harry, wait!" He heard Hermione say, but he ignored her and ran into the castle. He rushed through the halls, heading down towards dungeons, taking the steps two at a time. Harry paused at the bottom, unsure of where to go, trying to decide whether he wanted to go to the common room and risk being interrogated there, or elsewhere. But with a quick check of his watch, he headed instead over to Professor Snape's office, arriving a minute early for his detention. He hesitated, the fear building inside him again, but reached out and opened the door before he could start doubting himself and headed inside.
Professor Snape did not look up when he entered, and Harry's gaze wandered over to the supply closet, the broom, mop, and bucket placed in front of the door catching his attention. He made his way over, reaching out slowly and taking the broom. He glanced once at Professor Snape, who was watching him critically, before turning back to the door and heading inside, starting to sweep. He heard nothing from Professor Snape, so he let himself relax into the task, his mind drifting away, trying to avoid thinking about any of his worries about earlier today.
Harry swept until the floors were clear of any dust or particles, and walked the dustpan over to the bin, dumping it before heading back to the closet. He picked up the bucket, heading over to the sink at the back of the classroom and filling it up. At home, he would add a cleaning solution to the water to use on the floors, but Harry wasn't sure what wizards and witches used. He turned to Professor Snape.
"Excuse me, professor, what do I use for the floors? Is there a cleaning solution to add to the water?" He asked quietly after a few failed attempts to speak and Professor Snape looked up at him, devoid of emotions good or bad before pointing to a beige bottle on a shelf beside the sink. The liquid inside was a bright pink and smelled faintly of lavender. Harry brought it down and twisted it around in his hands, eyes scanning the label to see how much he should add.
He didn't know how much litres of water he had poured, but to be safe, he only added a capful of the solution. He slapped the mop down on the closet floor and was amazed at how well the pink solution worked. The wizards and witches seemed to have invented a cleaner way more effective than the muggles had. The stains disappeared with one stroke, and Harry didn't even have to scrub over and over to get any of them out like he had to do at home. Thanks to the cleaning solution, Harry was done mopping in a few short minutes. He put the supplies back against the wall, exactly the way they were when he arrived, and walked slowly over to Professor Snape.
"I've finished, sir. What do you want me to do next?" He asked, and Professor Snape sighed, passing Harry a feather duster, and nodded towards the closet. Harry got the cue and he hurried back into the closet, immediately starting to dust, unwilling to get on Professor Snape's bad side anymore than he already had.
The lower shelves were easy, but the top shelves were a lot taller than he was, and he paused in his work, trying to decide the best way to go about it. Harry walked out of the closet, moving towards one of the desks and picked up the chair. It was a heavy, solid wood chair, and Harry struggled to carry it across the room, eventually settling on dragging it across the floor because it was so heavy.
"Mr. Potter," Professor Snape said, putting his quill down as he glared at Harry. "What do you think you're doing?" Harry froze, his fear rising as he wondered what he had done wrong. He didn't think he had done anything wrong, he had to reach the top shelves. His eyes darted between the closet and the chair in his hands a few times before he looked over at his Head of House.
"Um. I can't reach the top shelves," He said sheepishly, and Professor Snape rolled his eyes.
"What're you doing lugging the chair around?" Professor Snape pointed to a step stool on the other side of the room. "If you had asked, Mr. Potter, I would have told you to use that step stool instead." Harry nodded quickly, staring at his shoes guiltily. Professor Snape wasn't yelling, and was calmer than he usually was with Harry, but Harry didn't want to take a chance with the man if he really truly was angry at him.
"Sorry sir," He said quickly, attempting to move the chair back towards the desk. Professor Snape sighed.
"Leave that there, Potter. It's far too heavy. Just go grab the stool," The man said testily, and Harry winced, nodding as he hurried across the room, grabbing the stool and dashing back to the closet as fast as he could. "Merlin's sake, Potter, stop running around like a hair-brained fool and focus on your work a bit more!" Professor Snape yelled, his eyebrows narrowing with anger, the typical sneer on his face, and Harry froze, his heart hammering in his chest. "You're not going to get out of here early, so stop trying to go faster by doing careless work." Harry felt the humiliation sear through is heart. He had thought he had done the work well; he was sure he did. He was fast because he was good at cleaning, and he put a lot of effort into cleaning here at Hogwarts, like he did at home. He didn't know why Professor Snape thought he wasn't doing well.
"Yes sir," He said simply before turning back to the dusting.
The rest of detention went smoothly, the room silent as neither one really felt inclined to speak to each other. Harry because he was confused and fearful and wasn't too sure what had gone wrong today, and Professor Snape because, well, he was Professor Snape and he certainly did not like Harry, nor did he think very highly of him. Harry could see why he wouldn't want to talk to him.
He glanced at his watch again, like he had been doing every five minutes, and this time, it showed 8pm, so he was free to go. He scrambled down from the step stool, bringing it back to where it was before and then rushed out the door, only pausing to nod quickly at Professor Snape. But the man didn't seem as inclined to let him go immediately.
"Professor Quirrell has given his detention with you to me," Professor Snape said silkily, and Harry froze, halfway out the door. "So, you will be back here with me tomorrow and Friday." His voice was calm, but Harry could hear the undercurrent, and he clenched the door tightly. "I also have a few questions about today. Either you can answer them now, or tomorrow, but I will be getting answers." Professor Snape finally looked up at him, his eyes sparking with rage, and Harry trembled in fear, his eyes darting away from looking at the man. "Do you know what respect is?" Harry stiffened, shocked at the question. He nodded. "You do, do you?" Harry nodded again, slowly. "Well, walking out when an adult is talking to you is not very respectful, is it?" Harry wasn't sure if he was supposed to answer, so he remained still, waiting on bated breath for any movement from the man. "It isn't. I expect to see changes, Potter, or I will be moving on to more severe consequences." Professor Snape leaned forward, his face furious, and Harry trembled. He wasn't sure what 'more severe consequences' entailed exactly, but based on the ferocity on the man's face, Harry could assume it wouldn't be good.
"Yes sir, I won't walk away when you're talking again, sir," Harry said meekly, leaning back on his heels.
Professor Snape nodded sharply. "Good." He sat back against his chair, his face taking on a more contemplative expression, and Harry stiffened. "What happened in Defence today?"
Harry felt his breath quicken, and he forced himself to calm down. "Nothing, sir," He said after a few seconds. "I was rude to Professor Quirrell."
Professor Snape raised an eyebrow. "Professor Quirrell and I had an enlightening conversation today. Care to explain?"
Harry felt his heart race increase, uncertain of what the two professors had talked about, so he was unsure what to expect from the man. "Explain what, sir?"
Professor Snape's expression got sterner. "He said that he sent you to the Hospital Wing today, because of another headache." He paused to rearrange his quills on his desk. "But if you did go, I had not been informed, and when I checked in with Madam Pomfrey, she also said that you hadn't visited." He looked back up, his hands steepled in front of him. "So, Mr. Potter, where were you?" Harry bit his lip nervously, unsure of what to say. He couldn't tell the man about the darkness, but he couldn't figure out a lie that would appease the man. So, he decided to tell half of the truth.
"I had a headache because it was too noisy in the classroom. Once I left, it started going away, so I didn't want to bother you or Madam Pomfrey over nothing," Harry said quickly, making sure to meet the man's eyes. Professor Snape held Harry's gaze for a few seconds and Harry felt the familiar itch behind his eyes, but it soon left, and Professor Snape was looking away with a scowl.
"Fine, Potter. You're dismissed," He snapped, waving him off, and Harry nodded, scurrying out of the room and over to the Slytherin dorms. He pushed the door open, not pausing in the common room, heading straight up to the beds. He flopped down on his, burying his face into his pillow.
"Harry?" Blaise asked him softly. "Did you just get back from detention?" Harry rolled onto his back, nodding. He glanced over at the other boy, who was watching him carefully. "Hermione and Ron found us earlier, they told us-" Blaise paused, shaking his head- "well, they told us about what happened earlier, and Teddy and I couldn't really figure out what they meant." He was watching Harry hesitantly, and Harry made sure to keep his expression calm, even though he was far from calm inside. He was a flurry of emotions, none too good and all worrying about the fact that now they might know enough to figure out about the darkness, and Harry's freakish abilities.
But Harry didn't voice any of that. "Yeah, well," Harry said, picking at the thread on his blanket. They were silent for a few seconds before Harry finally looked up at his friend, sighing. "You know how it is."
Blaise didn't say anything right away, as if waiting for Harry to offer up more information, but when Harry didn't, he nodded sharply. "Sure." He ran a hand through his hair before jerking his chin out towards Harry. "Are you going to bed now?"
Harry stretched before nodding. "Yeah, I'm pretty tired. I think I'm just going to sleep now," He said and Blaise nodded.
"Alright. Goodnight, Harry."
"Goodnight."
"The sphinx h-had me t-t-trapped and I-I had to u-use my w-w-wits and k-knowledge of Defence Against the D-Dark A-Arts to e-escape and g-get out of the t-t-tomb," Professor Quirrell droned on, and Harry forced his eyes to remain open. He had missed too much of Defence already to risk missing more, and Hermione was adamant about them getting into good habits early on in the term. Harry wasn't too sure about that, but he had never been good at school, so he was inclined to trust Hermione on this.
Luckily, Professor Quirrell decided not to subject them to his stories for too long, and they soon switched over to written work.
"How're you feeling today?" Ron whispered to him, and Harry shrugged.
"Not too bad," He said. "It's easier when he's not talking." Ron snorted, chuckling.
"For everyone, mate," He agreed, and Harry snickered with the redhead.
"Yeah, for a guy who's done all the stuff he says he has, he's a very boring teacher," Harry whispered, and Ron burst into laughter, having to cover his mouth with his hand so he wouldn't disrupt the other students. Eventually, though, the two of them managed to turn back to their work. They were working for several minutes before Ron spoke again.
"Oh, also, Hermione's going to want talk to you about what happened yesterday," He whispered in a hushed tone, and Harry stiffened, ignoring the other boy as he continued his work. Ron was silent for a bit, waiting for a response that wasn't coming, and he sighed. "I'll talk to her. See if she'll drop it. I know you don't want to talk about it." Harry nodded awkwardly.
"Thanks, Ron," He said, and they turned back to their work once again.
"Oh, Harry?" Ron interrupted after a few minutes. Harry inclined his head. "We're here, when you do want to talk." Harry's heart clenched painfully but not in a bad way, and he nodded.
"A-Alright, class, I w-want you t-t-to pair u-up with your d-desk p-partner and the p-pair in f-f-front of you. Y-You will be discussing c-chapter t-t-three," Professor Quirrell said, his voice tinny, and Harry winced, the darkness surging with every word that came out of the man's mouth.
He managed to get it under control, and Ron and he turned to a pair of Slytherin's sitting in front of them. Ron looked a bit apprehensive with having to work with a new Slytherin. Theodore was there, but he was partnered with a blonde-haired girl that neither Ron nor Harry had met yet. Harry gave the redhead a reassuring smile, and Ron straightened, lifting his chin up determinedly.
"This is Daphne Greengrass," Theodore said neutrally, gesturing towards the girl sitting beside him, who nodded at Harry and Ron. Harry nodded back and Ron waved hesitantly. "Daphne, this is Ron Weasley and Harry Potter." Daphne inclined an eyebrow, her mouth quirking up in amusement.
"Nice to meet you," She said, her tone devoid of any emotion, good or bad. Harry figured that was a good bet, considering how jittery Ron was beside him.
Theodore met Harry's eyes, who shrugged, and his friend nodded slightly, glancing between Ron and Daphne. "Well, let's get to it. Alright, Ron?"
Ron swallowed thickly. "Yes. Let's get to it," Ron repeated, and Harry exhaled in relief before joining the others in their discussion.
"That wasn't too bad, was it?" Harry asked Ron while they packed their things up. Daphne and Theodore had already left, which was why Harry had decided to ask in a public setting rather than in private where Daphne wouldn't overhear.
Ron nodded slowly. "Yeah. Wasn't too bad. I mean, I've already met Nott, and Zabini, and they're pretty good lads," He said hesitantly. "Greengrass is not too bad either." Ron rolled his eyes. "Way better than Malfoy."
Harry snorted in agreement. "No doubt," He acquiesced. They managed to get their mess of quills and parchment into their bag and headed for the doors.
"Don't forget, M-Mr. Potter, y-your detention t-tonight is with P-P-Professor Snape," Professor Quirrell called out as they left, and Harry felt his mood darken as he nodded sharply.
"Oh, bugger," Ron sympathized once they were out of the classroom. "Got another with Snape?"
Harry nodded tiredly. "Yep." He shrugged helplessly.
"That's rough, mate." Ron frowned, patting him lightly and very briefly on the shoulder. Harry managed not to flinch, and the darkness only stirred slightly, not reacting nearly as bad as it had before the Sorting Ceremony.
Harry nodded. "Yeah, well. Not much I can do about it now." Ron nodded sympathetically before they split up then, Ron continuing to a different class, and Harry continuing into the Transfiguration classroom. He sat down beside Blaise, Theodore two rows down with Draco. Harry made a face at the blonde boy's head, feeling petulant towards the boy for a reason.
"Alright?" Blaise asked, and Harry took a second to collect himself, before nodding.
Luckily, there was no time for further questioning because Professor McGonagall started to talk, and Harry turned his focus on her as she went over the instructions for turning a matchstick into a needle.
He turned to look down at the matchstick sitting innocuously in front of him on his desk, his wand clenched tightly in his hand. From his work in Charms, he figured he had to focus on calming his magic – and/or darkness – down first before attempting anything.
Getting control was easier the second time, and after only a minute or so, he was ready to attempt the spell, swishing his wand confidently. And the confidence was warranted, his matchstick transfiguring into a shiny silver needle, straight with no bends in it. He grinned, before flicking his wand again and turning the needle back into a perfectly fine looking matchstick.
Professor McGonagall came up to him. "Good job, Mr. Potter," She praised, and Harry smiled softly, nodding. She moved onto the next person and Harry returned his focus to his matchstick, practicing the spell over and over again until the darkness responded without a fuss.
He leaned back, grinning smugly. He was getting hang of this magic thing.
Thanks for reading! Will try to get the next chapter up quicker than this one :).