Authors Note: Guten tag! Rotten Writer, once again at your service. So I'm posting this chapter a little earlier than my originally planned Tuesday Evening since this Tuesday I'll be spending half my day in a five hour tattoo session. Might not get a chance or time to post, so here it is.
Originally this Chapter 05 was the shortest of all chapters yet, and not a lot really happened. It just kind of felt like filler, to me. So I combined it with Chapter 06 so you've now got the longest chapter to date in this story.
One point I want to make is that a reviewer commented on the maturity of these eleven-year-old kids. My thought was Harry is mature beyond his years due to his living situation, despite his issues. He's had no choice but to grow up fast. The girls are of a similar theme. Sure that they would be needed and relied on by someone damaged, they grew up quick. Also I can neither confirm nor deny allegations that their bond may be encouraging them to be a little more mature in their thinking and such.
Anyways, on with the show!
Soul Scars
By,
Rtnwriter
Neville was out of the hospital wing with more than enough time to make it to lunch. He slipped into a seat across from Harry and quickly filled his plate as he joined in the conversation. They would be heading down to visit Hagrid after they ate.
"Harry?" Hermione asked, as they ate.
"Hmmm?"
"We talked it over, and we don't mind Neville knowing what happened at the sorting, just so long as he knows it's not something we want spread around. We don't mind friends knowing the basics but… this is… it's private. The school's only just stopped staring at us all the time. I don't think you want them finding out what it all means and starting even more rumors."
He growled, thinking of all the whispering, staring and pointing they'd already endured. Why couldn't he ever just fade into the background and avoid peoples attention? Ever since he first stepped foot back in the wizarding world he'd felt like a bug under a microscope. There was always someone staring, pointing, or whispering wherever he went. He hated the attention, but he hated more that the girls were subjected to it just by association with him.
"Yeah, I can understand that. After we talk to Hagrid maybe we can find an empty class room and fill him in?" She nodded and gave him a small smile. They talked while they ate. Daphne, it turned out, had a talent for transfiguration and was explaining some of the finer points of their last lesson to Hermione who was nodding along as she scribbled out some notes. Susan and Neville were discussing Herbology, while Harry just picked at his food and observed his friend and his bonded interacting.
It felt good, being in the company of friends. But something was bothering him, bad enough that the girls picked up on it. All three faltered in mid conversation to turn to him, a concerned look in their eyes. Neville stuttered to a stop in the middle of explaining something to Susan when he realized that all three girls were staring intently at the last Potter and he hadn't the foggiest what it was that had gotten their attention.
"Harry?" Hermione asked, as usual, the spokesperson for his girls.
My girls? He thought. When did I start thinking of them like that?
He shook his head, both to dispel his wandering thoughts, and in response to Hermione's query.
"This isn't right," he decided.
"What isn't?"
"Susan? When was the last time you talked to Hannah? Or spent any time with her?"
Susan blinked at the sudden question and a stab of guilt shot through her as the answer immediately came to her. "Well, not since the train, really," she admitted.
"Daphne, same for you and your friend Tracey that you told us about?"
Daphne nodded, silently.
"That's not right. They're your friends, why aren't you spending time with them, too?"
Susan and Daphne shifted slightly under his scrutiny and his eyes narrowed as an idea began to form. "You've been focusing on spending time with me, so you haven't had time to spend with them." It wasn't a question but they nodded anyway. "We have plenty of time to spend together. We're in the same house and in all the same classes." He dropped his knife and fork and pushed himself to his feet, waving the girls down when they started to stand as well. "I'll be right back," he said, giving them a small smile.
Without waiting for any possible response he stepped over the bench and made his way to the Hufflepuff table. It didn't take him long to find the blond he was looking for and he tapped her on the shoulder, leaning down speak to her quietly for a moment after she turned to look at him. Susan could see the emotions running across her old friends face. Confusion, at first. Then surprise. Finally settling into a curious interest. After a minute she nodded and he smiled before he walked away, this time heading straight for the Slytherin table.
The girls and Neville stood at that, watching him carefully, ready to rush to his aid, should it become necessary.
Now, he thought. If I were a friend of Daphne's, where would I be?
His eyes scanned up and down the length of the table, ignoring the looks he was getting from the Slytherins and from the nearby occupants of the Ravenclaw table. Finally, he spotted who he thought must be Tracey. She was sitting at the far end of the table, apart from the rest of her housemates with her head down over her plate as she ate. His feet carried him past the majority of Slytherin house as more and more eyes started to follow him.
"Miss Davis?" he asked from a spot a few feet away and to her side. He hadn't wanted to come up behind her as he had with Hannah. As far as he knew, that could have been a dangerous thing to do to a Slytherin. She turned, proving he'd correctly identified his target, and eyed him carefully.
"What'd you want, Potter?" she snapped. "Not happy with stealing my best friend you have to come over here and rub it in my face, too, that you won't let her talk to me?"
He blinked, somewhat surprised by the blatant hostility in her words and tone but it only served to reinforce his resolve that this was a mistake he needed to correct.
"Exactly the opposite, actually. I've just found out that Daphne has been avoiding spending time with you in order to spend time with me. I don't like that. She's talked about you a lot and it's clear she thinks very highly of you and considers you her closest friend." He shrugged. "I don't know of anyone that has so many friends they can afford to just let one slip away, especially not a best friend. So, I'm here to invite you to join us at our table, if you'd like to have lunch with your friend. She misses you."
Tracey didn't look convinced, but he could see that he had at least gotten her attention. "Hogwarts students aren't allowed to eat at other tables outside of their house."
"Not true, actually. I looked it up last night. The Hogwarts charter states that students must dine with their own house during special occasions such as the opening and leaving feast, or if there were a ball held or something to that effect. Otherwise, during the school year, there is no rule requiring students to eat with their house mates and it is, in fact, encouraged that students spend time with others outside their house. Personally, I don't see a reason to limit the number of friends I can have to only one quarter of the schools population, do you?
"That being said, the invitation stands. You're welcome to join us whenever you wish. If you would rather not at this time, that's fine as well, but your friend misses you, and I'm sure you miss her. Otherwise, as soon as we're finished eating lunch we're all going to head down to have tea with Hagrid, the Groundskeeper. You're more than welcome to join us then, if you'd like."
He stood there, hands clasped behind his back as he watched her, doing his best to ignore the whispers that started to spread outward across the great hall.
Tracey eyed him, as if he were a puzzle she was trying to solve. Eventually he saw the slightest hint of a smile curve her lips. "You're interrupting my meal, Potter," she said. "Why don't you head back to your table. I was planning on going for a walk on the grounds but now I'm not so sure if you're going to be out there."
"Sorry, for interrupting you, then," he said and gave a slight bow before he turned and made his way back to the Gryffindor table. Hannah had already moved tables and was sitting next to Neville and across from Susan. He slid into his empty space, Hermione on his right and Susan on his left.
"I would have warned you that wasn't going to work if you'd told me what you were going to do," Daphne said. "But, thank you, for trying."
"Huh? What didn't work?"
"Tracey won't come eat with us."
"Well of course not." He said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and speared a piece of chicken from his plate, chewing thoughtfully for a moment. "She's in Slytherin. There's no way she could accept such an invitation in the middle of the Great Hall, not with Malfoy and his cronies sitting at the table. They would have made her life hell as soon as they got back to their dorms. But, the invitation has been made. Now she can give it a few days before accepting and make it seem like she's using my invitation as a means to get closer to me or to Neville or Susan."
Hannah, Neville, Susan, and Hermione all blinked, looking at him like he'd just sprouted a second head. Daphne looked like she was thinking through the implications of his words, and by the slow smile she was wearing, she was starting to see his angle.
"Why you three?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowed as she tried to follow his logic.
"Well, Daphne is already friends with her. There's nothing more Tracey could do from a political or power standpoint by getting close to her. Hermione, your family doesn't have any political clout, at the moment. I'm sure you'll end up Minister of Magic one day the way you beat the pants off of all of us in class." He ignored the flush that spread up Hermione's cheeks and made his way down the rest of his list.
"Hannah, from what I understand the Abbot's are a rather small house, not wielding a great deal of political power there, but still it's an ancient house line, right?" he glanced at Neville who nodded. "So she might want to make some inroads into being your friend to see what doors that might open for her. Possible, but one of the least likely options.
"Then there's Susan, Neville and me. Susan's Aunt is the Head of the DMLE, and Susan is the last of her family line. That's a precarious, but potentially powerful position to be in. When Susan can take her seat on the Wizengemont it would behoove Tracey to be in a position to possibly influence her good friend Susan in regards to various laws or appointments. Same with Neville, as House Longbottom has quite the reputation from what Neville tells me. And then there's me. The whole Boy-Who-Lived tripe, plus the last of a Most Ancient and Noble House, to anyone with any political leanings I must look like a Christmas goose, just ripe for the plucking."
He returned to his lunch, aware, and somewhat enjoying the completely dumbfounded looks on his friends faces.
"Not a bad idea," Daphne admitted, "but Tracey is a half-blood and she doesn't have any political leanings at all. She would never use someone like that."
Harry smirked at her. "Do her house mates know that?"
There was a heavy silence and across from him the smile growing on Nevilles face looked like it was going to split his entire head in half. Suddenly, he burst out laughing, slapping the table repeatedly with one hand. "Blimey, Harry, that's brilliant," he gasped when he could finally speak. "You just gave her a valid reason to spend time with us lowly Gryffindors, all while saving face in her own house."
Susan and Hermione were still shocked, but Daphne could only think that the smug smirk that had made its way onto Harry's lips was doing funny things to her insides.
"Harry," Hannah said, her voice awed. "That was downright devious."
"Thank you," he said. "I've been paying attention to Neville here. He's been filling me in on all the house politics most nights in the common room. Since I'll have to take over as Head of House one day I figured it was important that I understood how things worked, at least a bit."
He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to find Daphne standing behind him. As soon as he was facing her she practically threw herself into his arms.
He stiffened up, again, surprised by the sudden contact, but she ignored it and just held onto him until, slowly, his arms coiled around her and he returned the hug for the first time. It was awkward and stiff, but it was a start. "Thank you, Harry," she whispered in his ear and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek before she pulled away.
He was positive he had just flushed a brilliant red and his hand came up to the spot where she'd kissed him without any conscious thought on his part. "A-anytime," he said and she gave him a small smile. He turned back to finish his lunch, completely ignorant of the knowing smirks passing between the girls every time his fingers came up to brush against his cheek.
#####
"Harry," Neville said, "look at this."
Harry turned from watching Daphne and Tracey chattering away at the speed of thought, a bemused smile on his face, to see what Neville wanted to show him. The smile that had curved his bondeds lips when Tracey met them on the path to Hagrid's hut and the resulting hug and second kiss on his cheek had been an eye opener for Harry. Daphne was always so quiet and reserved, the true quintessential pureblood princess. He was only just starting to realize that her calm facade was exactly that. A mask she put on and presented to the world. Underneath that quiet veneer she could be just as outgoing and bubbly as any other eleven-year-old girl, and Tracey was the key that opened up that part of her.
"What am I looki- never mind, I see it."
GRINGOTTS BREAK IN!-
Read the headline on the front page of the Daily Prophet that had been sitting on the huge table in the center of Hagrid's hut. Neville was sitting on his right with Hermione and Susan on his left while Daphne and Tracey had sequestered themselves a little further down, heads together as they spoke quietly. Hannah leaned over Neville causing the boy to flush as she looked at the paper in Harry's hand.
"Someone actually broke into Gringotts?" she asked, shock clearly lacing her voice. "I'm surprised the goblins would even admit to something like that. Their reputation for security has always been the best in the world."
"It says here that the vault they broke into had been emptied out just the day before." Harry took note of the vault number and something about it tickled at his memory. "Hey, Hagrid?" he asked. "Isn't that the vault that you visited on my birthday?"
Hagrid glanced at the paper before his face paled and he gave them a nervous grin. "So, 'ow've you lot been enjoyin' Hogwarts?" he asked, ignoring Harry's question entirely as he came over with a plate of rock cakes in one hand and a large pot of tea in the other. He set them both down on the table and took his seat in the massive chair that had obviously been made specifically for him, even then it still creaked ominously under his weight.
His behavior was confusing, Harry felt, but he pushed it aside and focused on his friends. They talked for a while and enjoyed their tea while pretending to nibble on rock cakes before making their excuses and began heading back to the castle.
"Susan? Daphne?" Harry said as they walked. "Did you want to invite Tracey and Hannah along to tell them about the bond when we talk to Neville?"
The girls gave him a long look. "What?" he asked, worried that he'd made a mistake by offering to let them tell their friends.
"Nothing, really, Harry," Susan said. "It's just… you gave us time to decide if we trusted Neville and here you are, after having one conversation with Tracey and only spending one afternoon with Hannah just offering to let us fill them in. You don't even know them."
He nodded but the answer seemed obvious to him. "Well, you two trust them. So I'll trust them with this if you do. You certainly know them better than I do."
Both girls leaned in and gave him a brief hug, ignoring how he still stiffened in their arms at the contact. They had decided days previously that he had simply never known any physical contact that wasn't painful and didn't know what to do when confronted with affection. Eventually, he would learn that he didn't have to fear them touching him. They would just have to keep wearing down his defenses.
"Well, they kind of already know, to a point. They were our best friends growing up," Susan pointed out as they let go of him and continued walking. "So they've known there was someone out there, but they didn't know it was you until we did, and we still haven't told them what else happened during the sorting either. So I would love to invite them along as long as you and Hermione are both okay with it as well."
"I already asked Hermione about it on our way down to Hagrid's, and it's fine with me." He turned around and started walking backwards as he motioned to Hannah, Tracey, and Neville who were falling behind a little bit. "Come on you three. We're gonna find somewhere quiet for a chat."
#####
"So, what's this all about?" Tracey asked some minutes later once they were all ensconced in an unused classroom on the fourth floor.
"We figured you guys could use an explanation for the light show that Neville tells me we put on during the sorting," Harry said.
"I kind of already know about it," Hannah cut in and Tracey nodded beside her. Neville glanced at the girls but didn't say anything and quickly turned his attention back to Harry who was leaning against what would have been the professors desk if the classroom was still in use.
"Not everything, Trace," Daphne cut in. "There's a little more that's happened since we last spoke."
"So, what was it?"
"It was a soul bond, Nev." Harry looked at the girls standing on either side of him before returning his attention to the trio sitting in the student seats. "According to the hat, when Voldemort-" the three of them as well as Susan and Daphne flinched but Harry pressed on "killed my parents a decade ago and then turned his wand on me it fractured my soul. Apparently, the killing curse tore my soul into three pieces-"
"Four, Harry," Hermione interrupted.
"I thought he said three?"
"He said it tore three pieces loose, but you still have some of your own soul, so four total."
He shrugged. "Makes sense. Okay, so the curse tore three parts of my soul from my body. Because of the dark magic tainting me from the curse those pieces couldn't return, or merge back with me, or whatever. So instead they went out looking for souls that could house them and protect them. It looks like these three had souls that matched mine well enough they were able to protect the pieces for me."
"So… what, did they give the pieces back during the sorting?" Neville asked.
Hermione shook her head. "No. I don't think it would have been possible but I don't really know how this all works. I haven't been able to find anything written about this whole bond idea that wasn't almost entirely guesswork since it's so rare for it to happen. Instead of giving back the pieces of Harry's soul, we gave him a piece of our own."
"And we gave each other matching pieces too," Susan spoke up. "The hat said that this bond with the four of us, it's never happened before. Ever. The only soul bonds ever mentioned in any stories or legends always have just two people involved, so for four of us to be tied together like this… it's never been done, so we really don't know what's going to happen in the long run."
Hannah's eyes were as wide as saucers. "And you guys aren't scared? I mean, you have no idea what could be happening to you right now."
Harry and the girls all shrugged. "There's nothing that we could do about it even if something was going on. Aside from that, I just feel like it's all okay." He frowned, unable to really explain it any better than that. "I don't know how else to put it, really. Honestly, I'm not thrilled to have another choice in my life taken from me... but I think we'll be fine, our friendship is just going to be a little different than others."
"You know," Hermione muttered thoughtfully, "that might actually be why there's so little written about these bonds." She noticed her bonded staring at her in confusion so she elaborated, "well, we can't even describe it. We can't put into words how we feel about it or how we're connected to each other. Since only people that have experienced it could understand, I imagine it would be really difficult and deeply personal to try to write a book about it."
They nodded and turned their attention back to their friends as they processed this information for several minutes until finally, Neville spoke up, "is what happened at lunch because of this bond?"
Harry blinked and glanced at the girls, who all looked as confused as he felt.
"That depends, I guess. What happened at lunch?"
"All three of you stopped what you were doing, a couple in mid sentence, and you turned to stare at Harry. It was almost eerie, to be honest."
"Oh, yeah," Hermione muttered. "Well the bond does a few things from what we've been able to tell. One is that we can sense each other's emotions. We could feel that something was bothering him."
"The something being that I hadn't seen Daphne or Susan spend any time with you two," Harry added, nodding to Tracey and Hannah. "I didn't like that."
"I'm still deciphering the other girls emotions, honestly," Susan admitted. "We've been connected to Harry for a lot longer than we have to each other, so I recognize his feelings pretty quickly. But sometimes I feel something and I'm not sure if it's me feeling it or Daphne or Hermione."
"Have you considered occlumency?" Tracey offered.
Susan frowned. "I never studied it very seriously. I'm not very good but it might help."
Hermione was bouncing in place. "What is occlumency?" she demanded.
"Take a breath, Hermione," Daphne muttered, "before you combust." She ignored the pout sent her way. "Occlumency is a mental discipline designed to shield and protect your mind from leglimencers, people with the ability to pull memories from your mind. A lot of pureblood families instruct their children in at least the basics in order to protect family secrets."
"There are seriously people that can read our minds?" Harry asked, a disgusted expression on his face. That thought did not sit well with him. The very idea felt like such a violation that he shuddered in disgust.
"It's not exactly mind reading, but close."
"How can we learn?" he growled, "I don't like the idea of someone rummaging around in my mind."
"I'll write to Aunty," Susan offered. "She can send us a few copies of the books we used."
"So what else is there?" Hannah asked and the four bonded shrugged.
"We can sense each others emotions and feel when one of us is hurt," Harry said. "There's something else, but I'm being intentionally left in the dark." His tone at the end was a bit bitter and Hermione huffed in exasperation.
"Harry, we explained that already."
"I know! I know, okay? And I do understand but… it still bugs me a little. I can't help that."
No one said anything for a few minutes until Neville stepped forward and cleared his throat.
"Harry, I want to thank you for sharing this with me. All of you," he added, looking to each girl in turn. "It really is none of my business, but it means a lot that you would all trust me with this kind of information and you have my word I won't breathe a word to anyone."
Harry shoved aside his irritation. "Like I've already said, Nev, you said it on the train, where a Longbottom goes, a Potter will stand beside him. Who am I to deny centuries of tradition?" They shared a grin and the girls all rolled their eyes.
"Come on boys," Hermione said as she started toward the door, "it's going to be dinner time in a couple hours and we should probably get started on some of our homework. I don't know about you but I'd like to be able to relax a bit this weekend."
They all gathered their things and headed out into the hall and toward the library.
"Hey Nev?"
"Yeah, Harry?"
"I think we should try to make some more friends."
"Why's that, Harry?"
"Well, at the moment our pool of friends is five girls."
"So?"
"We need some blokes to even things out. Right now we're out numbered!"
Argus Filch was later heard ranting about disruptive brats as two, laughing wizards ran through the halls of Hogwarts with five, slightly irate witches hot on their tails.
#####
"This is going to be wicked," Harry gushed as they made their way out of the castle and across the grounds that Saturday after breakfast.
"Right," Daphne said in a sarcastic drawl, "because making a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy is just what I want to be doing with my Saturday morning."
Harry gave her a curious look. "How can you be so sure you'll make a fool of yourself."
"I've flown a broomstick before, Potter," she said. "Trust me. It isn't one of my better skills."
"Well, just do your best, all anyone can ask of you, really. Right?" She gave him a tight lipped smile and a nod and he turned his attention to Hermione who was walking on his other side muttering to herself all the tips and bits of advice she'd gathered from other students and from any book she could get her hands on over the last week.
"Hermione, you need to take a breath. You're just getting yourself worked up."
"I'm sorry, I'm just not a big fan of heights and I want to do well."
"It's not a test, we're not getting graded here. It's just a handy skill and they want everyone to at least know the basics."
"Why aren't you nervous, Harry?" Susan asked from Hermione's other side. "I'd think that this would be as scary to you as it is to Hermione. Daphne and I at least grew up around brooms."
Harry got a far away look on his face and muttered something that none of them caught.
"What was that?" Hermione prodded gently, her mind successfully distracted from her own worries for a moment.
"I've always wished I could fly," he repeated, louder so they could hear him. "It always seemed like, if I could fly, maybe I could escape."
The girls were silent for a moment and then Harry felt a small hand slip into his and squeeze, gently. "I'm sure you'll be an amazing flyer, Harry," Hermione murmured so that only he could hear her.
He shot her a grin. "I also used to dream occasionally about a flying motorcycle. Always thought that just sounded like an awesome idea."
"Used to?"
He shrugged, his attention mostly focused on the rows of brooms laid out on the grass waiting for them. "I don't have good dreams anymore," he said, absently.
She frowned but didn't say anything else as the rest of their class huddled in close, listening to Madam Hooch's instructions.
"Hey Neville, still got your Remembrall?" Ron Weasley called as they all stood beside their brooms.
"Yeah, thanks, Ron."
"Still can't believe that git Malfoy tried to cause so much trouble over it," Harry muttered. He'd been ready to tackle the blond ponce to the floor if Hermione hadn't grabbed ahold of the back of his robes. Luckily, Professor McGonagall had shown up just after that and defused the situation.
Flying went reasonably well, up to a point. The broom shot up into his hand the moment he'd given it the command, 'up!'. Looking around he noticed that Hermione was having a bit more trouble. Susan and Daphne both had their brooms in hand though Daphne looked like she was holding a live snake instead of a broom.
"Hermione, it's a broom. It isn't an animal or something and it's not going to bite you. You're in charge of it, not the other way around. So just hold your hand out and issue a command, and believe that it's going to be obeyed. You expect it to obey."
She gave him a sidelong look before looking back at the broom. After taking a deep breath she said, sharply, "Up!" and the broom shot right off of the grass and into her hand with a solid thwack. She turned to him, giving him the biggest smile he'd yet seen her produce and he smiled back, thrilled for her.
"Alright," Madam Hooch called. "Mount up! Right leg over the broom like so and grip it like so. Little further back toward you, Miss Granger, it'll be easier to control. Mister Malfoy your grip is all wrong."
"What? I've been doing it this way for years!"
"Well, then you've been doing it wrong for years."
A few of the Gryffindors sniggered as Malfoy attempted to bluster and bully his way through, as usual, and only ended up losing Slytherin house points before having to change his grip to the way Madam Hooch told him or risk being grounded for the rest of the lesson.
"All right," she called, blowing a quick blast on her whistle to get their attention. "When I say, you are to push off gently, rise up five feet, hover for a moment and then settle back to the ground. Ready? One… Two… hey, you get back down here!"
Neville, nervous as always had pushed off too early, and too hard. For a moment Harry had a clear view of Nevilles face, pale with terror and eyes wide as he'd ever seen them as his broom shot up easily twenty feet. Neville struggled to bring the broom under control, jerking the handle up and down and from side to side in an attempt to wrangle it under his command.
In the end, inevitably so, there was a loud crack and audible thud when Neville hit the ground. Harry dropped his broom and broke into a run, reaching the whimpering young Longbottom just before Madam Hooch did.
"All right, Nev?" he asked, kneeling down next to his friend. "Little much there, mate. No fair showing off like that before the rest of us get a chance."
Neville chuckled slightly, holding his right wrist carefully with his left. "Well, I figure leave them with a lasting impression, right?"
"Broken wrist," Madam Hooch tutted with a clicking of her tongue after she quickly examined Neville. "Come on young man, let's get you to the hospital wing." She turned and addressed the rest of the class. "I will be back shortly," she said. "I expect the rest of you to keep your feet firmly on the ground or losing house points will be the very least of your worries."
Just before she lead Neville off she turned and gave Harry an appraising look. "Ten points to Gryffindor, Mister Potter, for attending a fallen classmate."
"That was a nice thing you did there, Potter," Daphne said in a quiet murmur when he walked back to the rest of them. He smiled but only shrugged while they waited for Madam Hooch to return.
"Did you see his face? I don't know what Dumbledore is thinking letting squibs like him attend this school," Malfoy sneered. Harry groaned mentally and closed his eyes. I really don't want to deal with this today, he thought.
Malloy bent over and picked up something off the grass. "Looks like Longbottom dropped his little toy," he said, tossing the Remembrall from one hand to another.
"Give it here, Malfoy," Harry snapped. He really didn't like bullies. "That doesn't belong to you."
"You know what, Potter? I don't think I will." Smirking, Draco mounted his broom and hovered a few feet off the ground. "I think I'll go leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find, like on top of the Astronomy tower?" With that he shot off into the air and Harry held out his hand. Without a word the broom he'd been using before shot off the ground and smacked into his hand.
"Harry, no!" Hermione cried out. "You'll get in so much trouble."
"I can't just let a bully be, Hermione. If he isn't shown that he can't get away with doing whatever he wants then he'll just get worse and worse as time goes on."
"I'm with you, Harry." Susan had stepped up beside him, her own broom in hand and a scowl fixed on her pretty face. He shot her a grin, mounted his broom and pushed off, hard.
It was so simple. Effortless. He didn't know how, but Harry just knew, he knew just how to control the broom. He could feel the magic coursing through the grain of the wood in his hands and he pushed with his own magic, boosting the power of the broom under him as he shot into the air like a miniature rocket.
He came to a stop just in front of Malfoy who suddenly seemed less than eager to be sitting astride a broom fifty feet in the air.
"Not quite so brave without your hired muscle, are you Malfoy?" Harry shouted. "Now give me that Remembrall, it belongs to Neville."
Malfoy swallowed nervously, his eyes flicking back and forth for a moment and out of the corner of his eye Harry could see Susan come to a stop, hovering about ten feet away on his left, watching the both of them.
"And what'll you do if I don't Potter?" Malfoy demanded.
"I'll knock you off that broom!" Harry leaned forward and the broom leapt under him, powering toward the nervous Draco who pulled up sharply on his own broom, just barely rising enough so that Harry passed underneath him. Dimly he thought he heard a scream of terror that sounded a lot like Hermione echo up from the ground far below but he had already spun his broom one hundred and eighty degrees so that he was facing Draco again.
"Catch Potter!" Draco suddenly shouted and pulled his arm back and threw the tiny glass orb as far and as hard as he could. The moment the orb left his hand he pushed his broom down in a dive toward the ground but Harry was already off.
He twisted and pushed the broom for all it was worth, rocketing through the air until he suddenly flipped upside down and pulled up on the broom, going into a corkscrew dive so he wouldn't lose any momentum. That time, he knew for sure the scream was Hermione as he dove vertically, straight for the ground, eyes fixed on the tiny glimmer of sunlight reflecting off the glass ball.
Twenty feet from the ground.
Fifteen feet.
Ten feet.
Finally, five feet above the grass, he pulled up as hard as he could on the broom handle and his right hand shot out like a striking viper, his fingers closing around the Remembrall as he shot back toward the sky.
He heard another scream and looked up just in time to see Susan slip from her broom out into thin air.
#####
"Never seen anything like it in all my years as a Professor at this school!" McGonagall was ranting, arms flailing as she gesticulated wildly. She was pacing back and forth in front of the black board in an unused classroom. Harry was sitting at one of the student desks, Susan held protectively in his arms where she sat on his lap, trembling in fear. Hermione and Daphne each stood behind him at either shoulder and a bemused Fifth Year student, briefly introduced as Oliver Wood, was watching the entire proceedings with an expression that clearly said he was certain his head of house had gone round the twist.
"Professor, what are you saying?"
"Wood," McGonagall said, taking a deep breath to calm herself. "I have found you a new Seeker!"
Wood perked up, his interest caught by that and he glanced at the four other students in the room.
"Really? Uh… which one, Professor?"
"Oh, Mister Potter here, my apologies Mister Wood. I saw it with my own eyes. He went into a vertical corkscrew dive from fifty feet and pulled up five feet off the ground just in time to catch a… what was it?"
"A Remembrall, Professor," Hermione offered. "Neville received it in the post this morning, from his Gran."
"Yes, a Remembrall. Caught it one handed, just snatched it out of the air, easy as you please. Then, then he shot back into the air and he also caught Miss Bones who had just fallen from her broom. Twenty feet from the ground he scooped her up and landed them both without even a tumble."
Oliver was hardly listening at that point. "He's got the build for it," he said, studying Harry carefully. "He's small so he'll be quick. Done much flying Potter?"
Harry shook his head. "Never been on a broom before today," he admitted.
McGonagall and Woods mouths dropped open. "Are you telling me, you pulled off a stunt like that and it was your first time on a broom?" The Professor practically shrieked. Harry nodded.
"I will speak to Professor Dumbledore myself about relaxing the rule regarding first years playing Quiditch. Wood, you get him trained up and I'll see about ordering a broom. He'll need something with power, a Nimbus 2000 I think."
"Are you okay, Susan?" Harry asked, ignoring his head of house as she and the other student continued to chatter back and forth at each other.
"I'll live, Harry." She clung tightly to him, tremors still running through her body as she thought of how close she'd come. "I've never been so scared in my life," she whispered.
"Hey." Harry tilted her head up with a finger under her chin. "I'd never let anything happen to you if there was anything I could do to stop it. Understand? I take care of my friends, and you girls are the absolute best friends I've ever had."
"When did you get so protective of your friends?" she asked and he gave her a small smile.
"The minute I made my first friends. September first of this year."
Behind him he felt Hermione move more than he saw her and before he had a chance to stop her she put her hand on his right shoulder and gave what she meant to be a comforting squeeze.
He flinched, hard, almost sending Susan tumbling off of his lap to the floor as he wrenched his shoulder from Hermione's grip and bit the inside of his cheek to try and smother the pained groan that escaped him despite his best efforts. He tasted blood.
"Mister Potter?"
He groaned again, mentally that time, at the harsh tone in his head of House's voice and squinted his eyes open, well aware that he had a pained expression on his face that he could do nothing to smooth out. Sweat had broken out on his forehead and his shoulder was throbbing madly in time with each beat of his heart.
"I'm fine, Professor," he tried, reasonably certain she wasn't going to buy it.
"Dammit, Harry," Daphne snapped. "You are not 'fine', what the hell did you do to your shoulder?"
He couldn't do everything at once. He couldn't force away the pain and push down on the link he had learned to recognize that connected him to the girls. He didn't want them to feel his pain. Didn't want to worry them. He didn't have so many friends, he thought, that he could afford to drive them bonkers worrying about him. Eventually they'd up and drop him just to get away from the constant worry.
"Mister Potter," Professor McGonagall barked when he didn't say anything for a solid minute.
"I might have… slightly strained my shoulder when I caught Susan," he finally admitted when he realized that he had four women giving him a disapproving glare and somewhere at the back of his mind he prayed that the three girls in his life didn't take lessons from McGonagall on intimidation. They could already be scary, but if they added her repertoire of frowns and glares then he'd really be in trouble.
"Strained your…" Susan tried to jump off his lap but he wrapped his arm securely around her waist, refusing to let her move despite the pain it caused in his shoulder. His breath started coming in short pants as the pain got worse and worse with her thrashing. "Harry! Let go of me. You're hurting yourself! Why didn't you say anything?"
He gave her a weak grin. "And pass up the chance to hold a pretty girl in my arms? I might be thick sometimes, but I'm not a total moron."
Susan flushed so brilliantly he was pretty sure her face started to match her hair color but before he could distract them any further the Professor gave a disapproving sniff.
"Be that as it may, Mister Potter. I think it's to the hospital wing with you."
"And that's exactly where I won't be going." He nudged Susan slightly, attempting to get her to stand but she suddenly had no intention of leaving his lap since her presence was effectively preventing him from making a run for it.
Dammit.
"And why not, may I ask, Mister Potter?"
"I'm fine. Just a little ache. Some food and some sleep and I'll be right as rain by morning."
"Professor? Can we have a moment with Harry, please?" Daphne asked politely. McGonagall eyed them for a moment before giving Daphne a short nod and she started for the door.
"Come along, Wood," she called back over her shoulder. "We have work to do and Mister Potter won't be in any condition to train today so we can get started on other things while we wait for him."
When the door closed behind them Harry heaved out a sigh. "Thanks Daphne. I really don't want to go to the hospital wing."
"Oh you're going, Potter. Make no mistake about that. I just wanted to say something to you and I didn't want to have to do so in front of an audience."
He looked at Susan, still perched on his lap, and Hermione where she stood anxiously nearby. "This isn't an audience?" he asked and Daphne snorted in a most unladylike manner.
"They're a part of us just as much as we are a part of them. Listen carefully, Potter. We can feel how much pain you're in. We're not feeling it as sharply as you are, but it's there, and we know it. No idea how you managed to hide it until Hermione touched you, which is a different conversation that we will be having." He winced at that. "Madam Pomfrey needs to examine your shoulder and if you're worried about what she'll find, there is still a healer/patient confidentiality. She can't tell anyone what she finds without your express permission. Her oaths as a healer expressly forbid her from doing so."
"Like it'd be the first time someone ever broke an oath," he muttered.
"Not these Oaths," she said and he could literally hear the capital 'o' in the way she said the word. "I forget you grew up in the muggle world, but a Wizard or Witches Oath is one sworn on the wizard or witches very life or magic. If she were to betray her Oath she would either lose all her magic or she'd be dead before she could even hit the ground. So you can be sure that she won't give up any information that you don't want someone else to know without your explicit permission to do so."
She gave him a look up and down, or as much as she could see of him with Susan still occupying his lap. When Daphne spoke next her tone was somewhat hesitant, "Harry, how much do you weigh?"
"What? What's that have to do with anything?"
"Just humor me please? You can't be even five stone, I'm guessing?"
Harry's head fell forward, pressing against Susans upper back between her shoulder blades and he muttered something under his breath.
"Harrrryyyyy…" Daphne dragged out the sound of his name in a threatening manner and he sighed and sat back up.
"About four stone," He said, clearly, defiantly, holding Dapnes ice blue gaze with his own rich green.
"And for an eleven-year-old boy you should be at least five and a half to six stone."
"Right, we've determined I didn't get the proper nutrition growing up. You've all already told me you could feel how hungry I was. So? My growth is stunted. Are you happy? What the hell does that have to do with anything?" He wasn't quite shouting by the end but his instinctive defense mechanisms had kicked in and his anger was growing.
"Ask Madam Pomfrey about some potions."
He blinked.
Daphne held his gaze.
He blinked again.
"What?"
"Eloquent as ever, Potter," she said with a smirk and he stuck his tongue out at her which had Hermione giggling a little. "You think you're the first wizard in the world to not get enough to eat? Ever hear of people that have such fast metabolisms they simply have trouble putting on weight to get them to a healthy level? There are nutrient potions that she could give you, a whole regimen of them, that could help you get up to a healthier weight, even help stimulate any growth you might have missed out on. You could be half a head taller and a stone heavier by Christmas with the right potions."
He considered that and couldn't even pretend that it wasn't an appealing thought.
"You've got to ask her about them though. You're a minor so she can't offer you treatments without the permission of your guardian, beyond the immediate and specific treatment of injuries. If you ask her first though, then she can see about treatment. So. Willing to go to the hospital wing now?"
He just nodded dumbly and Daphne gestured for Susan to let him up. She did, even though she tried to hide a slight pout. She'd been rather comfortable sitting on Harry's lap. He climbed to his feet and headed for the door. When he had a little trouble getting his book bag up onto his left shoulder Susan wordlessly took it from him. They started down the hall and behind him Hermione wordlessly held up her hand, facing Daphne who quietly lifted her own and the two girls shared a gentle high five for one minor victory on their road to ensuring Harry Potter got the healing and care he so richly deserved.
"Hey," he asked as they walked, "what's a Seeker?"
#####
"Robes and shirt off, Mister Potter," Madam Pomfrey ordered. "Honestly, I don't know why people still insist on using brooms, death traps I'm telling you. Absolute death traps. Miss Bones, are you in need of a calming draught after your ordeal?"
The four Gryffindors were somewhat bemused as the portly Mediwitch bustled about her domain, a force of nature in a pointed witches cap. She stopped, staring intently at Susan for a few moments before she realized the Mediwitch was waiting for an answer and she jumped. "Oh," she said. "No, Madam Pomfrey, thank you. I'm feeling much calmer, Harry was very good at reassuring me after he got me back on the ground."
"Very well," she said after staring Susan down for a moment longer. "You three may leave." She turned back to a small wheeled table where she was setting up lines of potions and all three girls felt a sudden rush of anxious terror.
"Um… Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione ventured, blanching slightly when she turned to look at them. "We'd actually prefer to stay, if you don't mind."
"Mister Potter's condition is between himself and his healer. You don't want to spend an afternoon in the hospital wing when you could be spending time with your friends."
"Did Professor Dumbledore not inform you of our status?" Daphne asked, sighing when the witch simply gave them a blank look. Daphne gestured between Harry and the three girls with one arm. "We're all part of a soul bond, Madam," she said. "If Harry would like us to leave, we'll do so, but we're more than just friends, our presence could be beneficial."
"They can stay," Harry spoke up, quietly. He was sitting on one of the beds, eyes fixed on his beat up trainers where they poked out from beneath his robes.
Madam Pomfrey huffed but said nothing else about them leaving. "I don't believe I've ever met a bonded set before. After Mister Potter has recovered from this I'll need to see all four of you back in here so I can take some scans. I want to see if there's anything unusual in the scans because of the bond." Daphne quietly agreed and the mediwitch turned her attention back to Harry.
"Robes and shirt, Mister Potter. I will be back momentarily." With a few flicks and swishes of her wand a set of privacy screens erected themselves around the bed, cutting Harry off from view and three simple, straight backed chairs marched their way across the pristine floor and lined up for the girls to sit.
She bustled off, muttering to herself all the while, while the girls sat, placing their and Harry's bags down next to the chairs. On the other said they heard a low groan and the shuffling of cloth. They sat quietly, waiting for Madam Pomfrey to return when there was a quiet, resigned sigh from the other side of the screens. Anxious indecision, worry, even a touch of fear. Those were the emotions they could feel across their bond and they exchanged a look, wondering what could be bothering Harry.
"Harry?" Hermione called. "Is everything all right?"
He was silent for a moment before he sighed again. "No. Not really. I… I'm sorry, I could use some help?"
They blinked. Asking for help was good. "Is there one of us you'd be more comfortable with helping right now?" Hermione asked. There was silence for a time. "You won't hurt our feelings picking one of us, Harry. We're not competing with each other or anything we're all your friends and we just want to help, okay?"
"Susan, then, please."
When Susan came around the screens Harry was sitting on the edge of the bed still, his robes pooled behind him and he was attempting to tug on the cuff of his left sleeve with his teeth, trying to pull it far enough for him to get his arm out. His right arm was hanging limply at his side.
Without a word, and ignoring the shamed flush that stained Harrys cheeks and neck, she carefully helped him get his left arm out of his sleeve, lifted the shirt over his head and gently tugged the garment down his right arm. She stamped down every instinct to gasp at the sight of the scars that covered his torso. She was used to the sight of them, having seen them in the mirror so many times before. What she wasn't used to, was the emaciated look of him.
His sternum and every single rib stood out sharply against skin the looked like it was stretched across his skeleton. His collar bones protruded, leaving deep hollows and his upper arms couldn't have been much bigger around than her wrist. She blinked back the tears he didn't see because he kept his head turned resolutely away from her. He also, she noticed, kept the inside of his left forearm pressed against his side so she couldn't see it.
Without a word she took the shirt and folded it, setting it on a chair nearby, followed by his robes and his tie. "Need anything else, Harry?" she asked gently, trying to convey without words, that she didn't think any less of him.
"No. Thank you, Susan, I'm good from here."
She nodded and turned to walk away when he suddenly spoke in a quiet voice, stopping her.
"Thank you," he said again in a low tone and she nodded, knowing exactly what he meant.
Thank you, for not making a big deal out of this.
She returned to Daphne and Hermione to find that the seating arrangement had changed. Most times Hermione stood in the middle between her and Daphne and that's how it'd been when she went behind the screens. When she returned, though, Hermione had moved over, leaving the middle seat for her, and the moment she sat down she felt the girls move closer to her, their arms going around her as they offered what comfort they could.
"All right, Mister Potter," Pomfrey said as she bustled her way back to them and around the privacy screens. "Let's see what kind of damage you've done to yo-"
Hermione, Daphne, and Susan exchanged a look when Madam Pomfrey suddenly fell silent and they could only imagine the look on the matronly woman's face as she got her first good look at the Boy-Who-Lived.
True to her level of professionalism though, she recovered quickly and they heard her muttering a few spells from behind the screen.
"Dislocated shoulder, strained tendons and ligaments, and it looks like some torn muscle tissue as well. I am sorry to tell you Mister Potter, but you simply do not, yet, have the muscle mass to be catching young women out of the air."
"Well, I couldn't just let her fall," Harry said and from his voice they could tell he was gritting his teeth. He let out a pained chuckle. "Only met her on the first, but somehow she and those two with her seem to have wormed their way into my life and I really don't want to imagine what it'd be like without any of them in it."
Madam Pomfrey hummed quietly while all three girls blushed brilliantly, secretly glad that Harry couldn't see them. "Well I'm going to have to pop that shoulder back into place, and I'm sorry to say that it won't be a pleasant experience."
"That's all right, Madam. It wouldn't be the first time."
There was a pause and they didn't have any trouble picturing the disapproving look she must have been giving him.
"All right, Mister Potter. Deep breath, if you will, and hold it…" A moment later she muttered a sharp word and the three of them paled considerably as there was a loud, sickening sounding pop that echoed through the empty hospital wing and Harry let out a pained grunt, but no more than that. "Down the hatch Mister Potter," Madam Pomfrey said. "Muscle relaxant and tissue knitting potion. Pain reliever. And something to help repair the damage to those tendons and ligaments. I've got a bruise salve for you here, too, that you'll need to speed up the healing. I would recommend that you either return here each night before bed for the next week or you can ask one of your young ladies to help you apply it."
"I can do it myself," he muttered and she tutted for a moment but made no further comment.
"Get your shirt back on and then I want you to wear this sling for the rest of the day and don't use your right arm for anything if you can help it. You should be okay to move it tomorrow for most day to day things but nothing strenuous until the bruises are healed, am I understood?"
"Is Quidditch training strenuous?"
"Absolutely it is, Mister Potter, and if I do not get your word right this moment that you will not be attending any Quidditch practices until after the bruises are healed I'll confine you to the hospital wing effective immediately! I will not have you undoing the work I've just done to put you back together by playing that ridiculous game!"
"I was just asking, Madam, I promise. I've never seen a Quidditch match so I really don't know what it's like. If you say it's too much, I'll take your word for it."
She huffed but said nothing and a moment later he spoke again, "I promise, I won't be doing any Quidditch practice until the bruises heal. But I can still go and watch, right? As long as I don't participate?"
"That would be acceptable, Mister Potter. Now, shirt, sling, and don't let me see you back here again this term, if at all possible."
"Harry?" Daphne called out. "Potions."
"Oh right, thank you Daphne. Madam Pomfrey, I've been informed that there may be some potions that you could provide for me to try and put on some weight?"
"There are," she said, drawing out the words. "Are you requesting such a treatment regimen, Mister Potter?"
"I believe I am."
"All right. I'll need you to lie back for a moment, please. I need to run a few more diagnostic spells to get a look at you and determine exactly what course of potions will be needed."
While Madam Pomfrey was casting spells Daphne leaned closer and whispered in Susan's ear, "thank you."
"For what?" she whispered back.
"I'm glad you didn't get hurt, and I'm sorry that Harry did, but if you hadn't fallen off your broom I'm not sure how we were going to talk Harry into coming in here to ask about those potions."
Susan giggled. "Happy to help, but next time, you can fall off the broom." There was no heat to her words and a small smile played around her lips, mirrored by the one on Daphnes face.
Half an hour later Harry was dressed, again with Susan's help, and Daphne had a wooden box tucked under one arm with a three month supply of potions shrunken down and each clearly labeled to be drunk with each meal. They thanked Madam Pomfrey and were on their way out of the door when the Mediwitch reached out and stopped Hermione with a hand on her shoulder.
She turned to look into the older woman eyes, unsurprised to see barely masked rage and sympathy glittering in her gaze.
"Madam Pomfrey?"
"He's not going to put that bruise salve on, is he?" she asked, though it really sounded more like a statement than a question.
Hermione shrugged one shoulder. "I can't say for sure, really. But I doubt it. We practically had to force him just to come see you. He wanted to just sleep the injury off."
The Mediwitch huffed again, and went back behind the privacy screens, coming back a moment later with a second jar of the salve which she placed in Hermione's hands.
"Instructions are on the label. Please, take care of that fool of a young man?" she asked. "You say you're bonded so I think we both know that he appears to have been fending for himself for far too long. He's going to need someone to help him, but he's obviously too stubborn and too used to being self reliant to even know that he needs the help."
"You have my word," Hermione said, clutching the jar tightly. "We have every intention of helping him as much as we can."
"And don't forget, I want all four of you in here soon for an exam."
"Of course Madam Pomfrey. Thank you."
She nodded and sent Hermione scurrying to catch up with her bonded.
Poppy watched as they left then turned back to her office. Sitting at her desk she pulled out a piece of parchment, inked her quill, and began to write.
Department of Child Services in conjunction with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
Healer Poppy Pomfrey of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, reporting:
Per my Healers Oath, I am writing to report the discovery of a child showing signs of severe, long term, physical abuse….
