Authors note: And the Rotten Witter returns with another update.

==Okay, I feel like a tool, but I had a scene at the beginning of the next chapter That I realized made for an awkward time skip AND worked way better tagging it onto the end of this chapter. Originally it WAS a part of this chapter but I moved it cause I wasn't happy with it and was still tweaking the scene itself. I'm much happier with it now but it still didn't work for Chapter 08, so apologies all, but it's here now. ==

So, without much further ado…

Sorry: Disclaimer! I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with it!

On with the show! Here be, Chapter 07 of Soul Scars.

Soul Scars

By,

Rtnwriter

Amelia Bones sighed and dropped into the chair behind her desk. The stack of parchment awaiting her attention had grown overnight, she was certain of it. She glared balefully at the offense of parchment stacked neatly into a small wooden box marked 'in box', then turned her attention to the entirely empty 'out box' sitting next to it. For some unfathomable reason the formidable stack of parchment completely failed to spontaneously combust under her heated gaze.

It just wasn't fair.

She took a long sip of her tea, fortifying herself for the hard slog she had ahead of her, and just as she reached for the first piece of parchment on the stack an absolutely gorgeous, snowy white owl swooped out of the owl chute and into her office. With the Ministry's location underground, windows didn't exactly work, even with magic, so long chutes leading up to the surface had been installed decades previously, but only for the individual Department Heads.

Amelia eyed the owl, not recognizing it and the owl, in turn alighted on the small perch she kept at the far edge of her desk, tilting its head to look at her with one large golden eye.

'Brek' The owl barked and held out a leg to show the small scroll tightly rolled up and affixed to its leg.

"Something for me?" Amelia asked and she could swear the owl actually rolled its eyes.

'Brek-cek brek'

Yep, the bird was definitely questioning her level of intelligence.

"All right, no need to get testy," Amelia said with a small smile as she stood and untied the scroll. Reaching into her desk she pulled out a couple of owl treats and set them in the small dish attached to the stand. With a tap of her wand on a second dish it became filled with water and the owl gratefully dipped its beak to drink as Amelia returned to her seat and unrolled her letter.

"Hmmm…" she hummed as her eyes skimmed the page. About half way down she paused and glanced at the owl. "Hedwig?" she asked and the bird lifted her head and fixed her with a piercing stare as only an owl was capable of. "So, you're Mister Potters familiar, eh?"

'Brek!' Hedwig nodded, bobbing her head up and down several times before returning her attention to the owl treats.

With another smile turning her lips and an almost irresistible urge to laugh bubbling up inside her at the animals antics, she returned her attention to the letter from her beloved niece.

"Susan says school is going well," she said, talking idly to the bird as she read. "She's enjoying her classes, except for Potions." She snorted at that. "No surprise there. Severus Snape is as unpleasant an individual as one is likely to meet," she muttered and Hedwig cocked her head to one side, listening closely to the auburn haired witch. "She's making friends at least. But you'd know all about that wouldn't you?" she added with a glance toward the bird. "You see her more often than I do."

Hedwig cocked her head the other way, but made no other motion.

"Harry, Hermione, Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, Neville Longbottom, my… she certainly is building quite the diverse group…" She took another sip of her tea as her eyes scanned further down the page. "Fell off her broom!' she practically shrieked a few moments later and sat up, gripping the parchment with both hands as her eyes scanned rapidly across her nieces neat handwriting.

"Merlins wrinkled left testicle," she sighed. "Next time you're going to tell your only living relative you fell off a broom, you might want to precede that with 'I was saved and am completely unharmed', Susan," she muttered darkly to herself when her heart rate finally started to slow.

'Brek!'

"Even Hedwig agrees with me," she burst out, as if her niece could actually hear her complaining. "Oh, she's going to owe Mister Potter a life debt now." She paused and her eyes turned thoughtful. "Does a Soul Bond cancel out life debts?" After a time she shrugged and kept reading.

Toward the very end of the letter, practically the last two paragraphs was the most pertinent information that Amelia Bones needed.

"Okay, so Harry got hurt a little bit saving Susan's life," Amelia muttered. "Had to go to the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey saw the scars… Shit." She jumped out of her chair, letting the letter fall to her desk as the last few paragraphs echoed in her mind.

"Carol!" she yelled as she ripped open the door to the outer office, startling her assistant at her desk outside. "Carol send a message to Child Services, if they get any missives regarding Harry Potter I want them to come see me, immediately. Take no other action and speak of it to nobody am I understood?"

"Yes, Director Bones. No one will be in though, it is a Sunday, after all."

"Right, no one will see it until tomorrow. Send a departmental memo, then, to the department head. Mark it 'urgent' so it's the first thing they see when they come in. And unless there's a catastrophic emergency, hold all interruptions for the next hour or so, I have some letters to write."

he was amazing on a broom, Auntie and I know he saved my life. We practically had to force him to go see Madam Pomfrey since he seemed so worried about anyone finding out about his scars that he wanted to just sleep off a dislocated shoulder!

Daphne reminded him that Madam Pomfrey couldn't betray his privacy by talking about it to anyone though because of her Oaths….

#####

The morning after their first flying lesson was both difficult and awkward for one Harry Potter. Difficult because after staying up so late the night before, thinking about the gentle kiss Hermione had placed on the scar above his eye, he really didn't want to wake up early.

The three hyperactive witches in his life would have none of that, though. Before nine o'clock they had bounded into the boys dorm and roused him out of bed, ignoring any moaning and groaning that he just wanted to get a little more sleep.

"How are you so wide awake after being up late last night?" he groaned to Hermione who just shrugged.

"You get used to it when you find yourself staying up late reading every night but still have to get up for school the next morning."

The awkward portion of his morning came when he joined them downstairs and he found Daphne and Susan standing near his chair by the fire, arms crossed over their chests with nearly identical glares leveled in his direction.

Hermione, standing nearby, had a look on her face that seemed a cross between apologetic and smug superiority.

"Et tu, Hermione?"

She shrugged and he sighed and made his way over to sit in the chair, resigned to his fate.

"What were you thinking?" Daphne demanded, a hard edge to her eyes and voice. "A duel with Malfoy in the middle of the night when you can't use your wand arm?"

He fidgeted nervously. "Yeah, I didn't really-"

"And why would you even go to a duel you didn't need to go to?" Susan snapped. Her deep blue eyes had never been filled with the cold anger her saw in them now.

"But didn't I… I mean… wait, what? Didn't need to go?"

"We told you it was probably just a ruse to try and get you in trouble. He was already so annoyed that you hadn't gotten into trouble from what happened during the class that he was just looking for some way to get you. You're playing into his hands."

Harry flinched and tried to shrink in on himself as he took in the very displeased expressions on Daphne and Susan's faces as they hemmed him into the armchair.

Susan's expression softened and she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand. The action caught Harry's attention for some reason, tickling at the back of his mind as if he should recognize it. When she started talking, though, he was distracted from the thought and lost the thread before he had a chance to tug on it.

"You know that was a stupid thing to do, right?" she asked.

He sighed and nodded, pushing his glasses up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I know," he said in a resigned tone. "But if Malfoy had been there, I'd have been giving him something to lord over me, and then he would have been worse than ever. I didn't have any way to know for sure that it wasn't a legitimate challenge."

"No, he wouldn't have had anything to lord over you. And you would have known, if you'd asked us about it, we could have explained that. In fact, I'm surprised that Weasley or Neville didn't know better."

"What were they supposed to know?" he demanded, feeling more than a little foolish. Worse, he really couldn't blame someone else for it either. He might have been pressured into going by way of the red headed menace, but it had been his own decision. He had screwed up and that annoyed him more than just about anything at that moment.

"There are some very strict rules in both challenging and accepting a wizards duel. Malfoy isn't the Head of his House and that wasn't an honor duel, in no way would it have satisfied any of the rules so you could easily have told him where to shove it and would have lost nothing," Daphne explained.

Harry sighed and let his head fall back, eyes closing. "Isn't there a book somewhere that lays all this crap out simply and succinctly that I could read? I'm tired of getting tripped up by all these rules and things that I don't understand."

Daphne snorted. "That would make it simple wouldn't it. The pureblood bigots in charge would never let such a book get into circulation though. Doing so would make it too easy for muggle born witches and wizards to fit into society that they think should be kept on the fringes, or expelled from wizarding society entirely."

"Most of this is passed down through word of mouth and tutors within the pureblood families," Susan added. "People like Malfoy get all this explained to them from a very young age. So again, I'm surprised that Neville didn't know about it. Weasley might make a bit of sense since even though his family is pureblood, they don't stick to many of the old traditions like a lot of other families still do."

Hermione was scowling and muttering darkly under her breath but the other three focused on the discussion at hand. Hermione's, well deserved outrage at the blatant bigotry of wizarding society could wait, for now.

"Lesson learned," Harry muttered. "I'll make sure I get some better advice in the future on anything like this. And I'll have to find out why Neville didn't know about it. He might need to have his Gran check into the effectiveness of his tutors."

"Let's go look for him." Susan took Harry's hands in hers and pulled him to his feet. "He might still be at breakfast and either way, I'm hungry." The four of them made their way down to the Great Hall. A quick scan of the table showed Neville sitting near the middle and they made their way over, quickly seating themselves around their friend.

"Hey Nev, mind if I ask a question?" Harry asked as they all started filling plates with food.

"What's up, Harry?"

"Ummm… not to sound like I'm accusing, cause I'm not, but didn't you know that the duel last night wasn't legitimate?"

Neville set down his fork and thought about that for a moment. "Well… maybe? I thought it might not have really fit some of the rules but honestly I haven't been instructed much on those things. The focus has been more on the various Houses, political ties, alliances, and business." He flushed and shrugged. "Basically, since my whole family has always been convinced I'm just above being a squib they've ensured that all my instruction was on how to avoid ever getting myself into a situation where I might be called out into an Honor Duel. They figure if that ever happened I'd be doomed."

Harry grumbled while the girls all gave Neville sympathetic looks. "We'll show them that they're wrong about you, Nev. You have my word on that."

#####

For the rest of the week he had left on his bruise salve treatment they fell into a routine. They attended classes, did their homework in the library with a growing group of friends, and at night, after the common room was empty, Hermione would collect the jar of salve and silently rub it into his bruises which healed at an amazing rate.

It was a private moment for them. Daphne and Susan knew, of course, Hermione told them, but never once did either offer to take care of the salve one night. They would have their own moments with Harry, and it wouldn't do to try to push him. Love and affection were alien concepts to Harry Potter. It would take time, and they were young. They could afford to be patient.

On the following Monday morning during breakfast, Hedwig swooped in and landed in front of Harry, a letter tied carefully to her leg.

"What do you have there, girl?" he asked.

'Brek', she barked.

"Yes, a letter, obviously. Who from?"

'Kek cek brrrrek'. She turned and bobbed her head in Susan's direction before tilting her head back toward Harry.

"Susan's Aunt?" he asked. "Madam Bones sent this?"

'Kek' she nipped gently at his fingers and launched herself off the table, swooping around to land on his shoulder where she nipped at his ear and rubbed her head against his cheek.

"Auntie sent you a letter, Harry?" Susan asked, sounding as confused as he felt.

"Apparently. Let's see what she has to say." He opened the letter and unfolded it, eyes skimming quickly over the parchment as he read. His friends watched as several emotions flitted across his face. Surprise, confusion, anger. After several minutes he wordlessly held the letter out to Susan, his face settling into a thoughtful expression as he considered the contents of the letter.

Mister H Potter

My name is Amelia Bones. I'm sure you are aware of who I am, since you are bonded to my niece, Susan. She wrote to me to inform me of the accident that happened on Saturday during your flying lessons. I would like to take this moment to formally thank you for your actions in saving my nieces life. She is my only remaining family and means the world to me. I really don't know what I would do if anything serious ever happened to her.

Knowing you were raised in the muggle world I'm willing to guess that you have never heard of a Wizarding Life Debt. It is a magical debt that occurs when one witch or wizard saves the life of another witch or wizard. The strength of the debt depends directly on the amount of personal danger the person doing the saving, (in this case you) is placed in while saving the others life (in this case, Susan).

I will leave it to Susan to explain the full implications of this Life Debt and move on at this point since something else occurred that I feel you may not be aware of and I do not want you finding out about it from others.

Susan mentioned that you were seen in the hospital wing, and that the girls managed to convince you to go by mentioning that Poppy would be bound by her Healers Oath to keep your treatment at the hands of your relatives a secret. Unfortunately, this is not true. I do not believe that they knew this when encouraging you to visit so I would implore you not to be upset with them.

Yes, under normal circumstances, the Healers Oath would prevent her from discussing any part of your health with anyone without your express permission. However, as you are a minor, she is required to inform the Department of Child Services and my offices the Department of Magical Law Enforcement whenever a minor is discovered with obvious signs of being abused.

The specifics are not detailed, but she did have to send us notice so that an investigation could be launched. I can understand if this information distresses you as I'm sure you do not want your private life aired in front of strangers, but please, do not blame them, and be assured that I will be personally handling as much of this situation as possible, and I will also be requiring separate oaths of silence from the investigators that I assign to your case.

I regret that this decision, this choice, has been taken from you, but all I can do from my end is try to keep it as quiet as possible to avoid drawing further attention to you.

Sincerely,

Madam Amelia Bones

Head of the DMLE

Susan grew thoughtful when she reached the part about the life debt. She hadn't honestly considered the fact that she owed Harry a debt and for a moment, part of her worried what he might request, but she reminded herself that after the treatment he had suffered, it was unlikely that Harry would demand anything untoward from someone else.

She and Daphne however both paled as they read the rest of the letter, Daphne leaning close to look over Susan's shoulder.

"Daphne?" Harry asked, his voice suddenly as cold as any they'd ever heard.

"I-I-I swear H-Harry. I didn't know. I th-thought that… I didn't know."

"I don't like being lied to," he growled.

"I didn't. I swear I didn't Harry. I didn't know that she would or had to contact someone."

"So you didn't leave that out on purpose and use the potions to convince me to go to the hospital wing?"

She winced but spoke, carefully, "yes, I used the potions to convince you to go. But you can't say I was wrong. You needed to get your shoulder looked at and the potions are going to help you."

"I didn't need to get my shoulder looked at," he disagreed.

"Harry, it was dislocated!"

"Wouldn't be the first time," he repeated the words he'd said to Madam Pomfrey. "I've had to pop that shoulder back into place more than one time by myself. I could have done it on my own and nobody would have found out!"

The sudden increase of muttering around them had Harry looking around at the students sitting nearby. None of them were particularly close as, at that hour, the early risers were long gone, and those that enjoyed a lie in hadn't come down yet. There were only a few students present and most of them were too far away to really hear anything but it was obvious that Harry was upset, and it was obvious who he seemed to be upset with.

He pushed himself abruptly to his feet, ignoring the startled bark from Hedwig where she still rested on his shoulder and stalked his way out of the Great Hall, the girls scrambling on his heels. Neville scrambled after them, at once not feeling it was his place to butt in, but also not willing to leave his friend in his current state without at least offering his support.

Within minutes they, once again, found themselves in one of the many unused classrooms, the girls sitting together in three of the student desks while Harry paced the length of the room, irritation rolling off of him in waves. Neville stood by the door and Hedwig had already flown off, presumably to rest.

"Harry," Hermione finally said after several minutes of silence passed by them where he seemed to get no calmer, "please, could you try to calm down a little bit? I understand you're upset. I haven't seen the letter so I'm not sure exactly why but we won't manage anything productive if you're so worked up."

He nodded but said nothing and continued to pace, taking long, deep breaths in an effort to calm himself down.

"I didn't want anyone to know," he ground out, eventually. "It's my problem."

"Harry, it's not!" Susan blurted out, aghast at the very idea. "It's not your responsibility to deal with this situation. It's the adults around you that should have dealt with it. If you would just speak up about it-"

"I DID!" he suddenly roared, rounding on them as his eyes flashed and the air around him stirred with power. "Do you honestly think I'm so stupid that I never told anybody? That I never even tried to escape? I did tell them. I told my teachers at school. I got in trouble for lying about an 'upstanding member of the community' and they sent messages back to my relatives and the… the beating I got after that was one of the worst! My entire life I've been taught two things. I'm a worthless freak that deserves everything they did to me and that I was ALONE. No one was going to help me! No one was going to believe me! No one was going to do a god damned fucking thing about the hell I lived with every fucking day!

"It is my problem and it should have been my decision when and how to speak to someone about it! The teachers never tried to help me. No one ever listened to me. No one ever believed me. So tell me, honestly, what possible reason do I have to expect anything to be any different here?"

None of the girls were capable of answering him. All three had burst into tears during his ranting tirade and were simply struggling to rein themselves in as much as possible.

When the answer came it was from a completely surprising direction.

"But, Harry, don't you see?" Neville asked. "It already has been different."

Harry spun, directing his gaze to the shy, timid friend that he saw standing proud and strong before him. Neville Longbottom didn't even flinch at the angry glare that was leveled in his direction. His friend was in trouble, and Neville would be damned if he didn't do something about it.

"What do you mean?"

Neville frowned, organizing his thoughts as quickly as he could. "Look, I'll admit I'm coming into the tail end of this conversation. I obviously don't have all the information here so let me try to make a few guesses first, okay?"

Harry nodded curtly.

"From what I'm hearing, it seems like your home life is pretty horrible. Bad enough that when Madam Pomfrey looked you over because of your dislocated shoulder she found physical signs of how you were treated."

Harry nodded again.

"And as soon as she discovered it, she informed the appropriate authorities so that the situation could be investigated and dealt with. Isn't that completely opposite of what you say happened before? If Madam Pomfrey had simply ignored it, wouldn't that be just what you expect based on your experience? The fact that she didn't just shows that this is different. There are people actually on your side here, Harry. You've never had help before, it sounds like, well you've got help now. Do I have to say the damn motto, again?"

At that Harry couldn't help a small smirk.

"Where a Potter goes…"

"A Longbottom stands beside him," Neville finished. "You've got options, now. I can't begin to understand what you've been through or how you're feeling. I can understand not being asked. I can understand not having a choice or having your decisions taken from you by the people in charge of you. But in this case, can you honestly say that you'd likely ever have said anything? It kind of seems like you've spent a long time keeping everything bottled up to yourself. It might just be time to let someone else in."

The longer Neville talked, the calmer Harry became as his mind analyzed his friends words and he realized that he was right. Things were different. Had he just gotten so used to fighting on his own that he couldn't recognize help when it was offered? He glanced at the girls, still silently crying and closed his eyes as a pang of guilt shot through him.

Shite, he thought.

"Nev?" he asked, quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Can you give us a minute?"

"Take all the time you need."

When the door closed Harry took a deep breath and a hesitant step toward the girls. His mouth opened and closed a few times as he struggled to find the words he needed in this situation. Crying girls was never a good thing and he just had no idea what to say or do to deal with it.

"I'm s-"

Before he could finish he was suddenly swarmed as all three girls suddenly surged to their feet and their arms enveloped him as they sobbed against him. Hermione had slammed into his chest like a bushy haired missile, while Susan stood on his right side and Daphne took his left. His arms were pinned to his sides and his eyes grew wide and a little wild as all three clung to him.

It was a close thing. All he could do not to struggle violently against the arms encircling him. I'm safe, he told himself. They're not going to hurt me. They're not trying to trap me. They care about me and aren't going to hurt me. They care about me and aren't going to hurt me. It became a mantra that he repeated over and over in his head as he waited for them to pull themselves together.

Eventually, they pulled back wiping their tears and taking deep cleansing breaths.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione whispered after a moment. "W-we know you don't like being touched. We just… after what you said about how you tried to tell someone… I honestly think we needed a hug more than you did right then." She chuckled weakly.

"I don't understand," he admitted, feeling a little foolish and more than a bit confused.

Susan sighed and sat back down at the desk she'd so recently vacated. "We worry about you, Harry. We're scared to hear about what you've been through, and at the same time we want to know. We want to understand you and be here for you. But… that doesn't make it easy to hear. Does that make any sense?"

Harry mutely shook his head and Daphne started giggling, somewhat uncontrollably.

"Don't worry about it, Harry. I'm not sure we entirely understand it either. Backing up a bit though..." She suddenly seemed far more nervous and hesitant to speak and he caught on pretty quickly to what he thought she might be trying to say.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry I got so upset about Madam Pomfrey telling about what she found. It was… it was a shock, to think you'd lied to me just to manipulate me into doing what you wanted. I get it," he added, holding up a hand to stop her when she opened her mouth to protest. "I understand that you didn't know. Just like Neville didn't know about the rules surrounding honor duels. We don't have all the answers in the world. We're not always going to have all the information we need and all we can do is make the best decisions we can based on the information we do have.

"Getting me to talk to Madam Pomfrey about the potions was a good decision." He made a face. "And yes, I have had to pop my own shoulder back into place from time to time but you're right. I shouldn't do it, and I shouldn't have had to do it in the past. I'm just…" he trailed off and shrugged.

"Self reliant."

They turned to look at Hermione, who suddenly flushed when she realized she'd spoken aloud. She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. "You're self reliant, Harry. You're used to doing for yourself. You've never had anyone to help you or support you. I get it. I've always been rather self reliant myself. The difference is I always knew that I had that support of my parents when I needed it. That's what you need to learn now. You need to learn that you do have people that want to support you. We want to. And, it's going to be tough, and probably painful in the months ahead of us… but this is a good thing. Steps are being taken to get you out of that house now, right?"

Susan nodded. "If Aunty is launching an investigation, you can be sure they'll find anything there is and you won't be spending any time there this summer if she has anything at all to say about it."

"So there. Two adults that are trying to help you."

Harry frowned. "Two?"

"Madam Bones, and Madam Pomfrey."

He nodded, and somewhere, deep inside, he started to feel a glimmer of something he'd almost forgotten existed. The hope, that things for him might actually one day improve.

#####

The day after Madam Pomfrey pronounced his shoulder healed a long, thin package arrived at their breakfast table, carried in by six great horned owls and by that evening Wood had him out on the Quidditch pitch, explaining the game to him and sending him darting back and forth across the sky on his new Nimbus 2000, chasing golf balls that his captain would throw for him to catch.

Harry didn't miss a single one of them.

For a few days after the letter from Madam Bones, things were a bit tense between him and the girls, but they were slowly able to put it behind them and continue forward with their friendship.

It must have been because he was so busy suddenly, what with Quidditch practice three nights a week on top of all the homework the professors were handing out, but Harry could hardly believe it when he realized he'd already been at Hogwarts for two months. The castle felt more like a home to him than Privet Drive ever had and even his lessons were becoming more and more interesting, firing his imagination and sparking a long held thirst for knowledge to even greater levels.

On Halloween morning the castle woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Harry had already been awake for hours though. After the duel trap Malfoy had set Harry had seriously considered the rate at which he was learning in his classes, and found that here, he had an entire branch of study tailored to help him with a problem he'd had all his life.

Namely, the fact that in the years he'd spent at Privet Drive, he hadn't the strength, or the skills to protect himself. Defense Against the Dark Arts offered him something he had never had. Safety. Security. So every morning, he woke early, hours before any of his dorm mates and he dressed quickly and made his way to a nearby empty classroom where he worked on curses, hexes, jinxes, and anything else he could find in his textbooks or through his efforts perusing the Hogwarts Library.

He stared at the book that morning, going over the newest curse he'd decided to learn. He figured early on that knowing dozens upon dozens of spells was actually possibly as much of a hindrance as a strength. If he hesitated, trying to decide which spell to use, that could get him hurt, or killed. But if he learned maybe a couple dozen, and learned them well so that using them became instinct, he would be able to react faster and even apply more power to his spells with ones he was intimately familiar with.

"Incantation: Reducto," he read, finger tracing over the page. "Wand movement is a clockwise twist of the wrist followed by a sharp jab in the direction of the target." He took his wand in hand and practiced the movement several times until he felt he had it down, then he turned and faced the far wall where he'd marked out a target with a piece of chalk to help with his aim.

Taking a deep breath he raised his wand, reaching deep for the well of magic he could always feel inside him and pushed it out down his arm and into his wand. "Reducto!" he spat, twisting his wrist and jabbing his wand sharply toward the wall.

There was a crackling, sizzling sound, and a dim bolt of red light erupted from the tip of his wand but it fizzled and faded out before it reached the wall. He frowned and tried again, and again, and again.

Finally on his sixth attempt the curse struck the wall, half a foot off from the center of the target and gave off a loud bang as a perhaps two centimeter divot was blasted out of the stones of the wall.

He tried again several more times until he was confident he had the curse down. "Only thing to do now is practice that," he muttered. He sighed, feeling a bit tired after two hours of casting spells and checked the time from a clock on the wall.

"Crap," he muttered and quickly gathered his book, tucking his wand into his robes before he bolted out of the room and ran for the tower. The portrait swung open and he climbed as quietly as he could into the common room, hoping he could get to his dorm, shower, change, and grab his books before anyone else came down.

"Harry?"

Shite.

"Hey Daphne," he muttered. She was sitting in one of the armchairs near the entrance, a book open on her lap, looking perfect and pristine, not a hair out of place or a wrinkle in her robes. There was something about Daphne that he couldn't wrap his head around. Save for those few moments when the three of them were discussing some of the heavier implications behind this bond they had with him, she always seemed somewhat aloof. Apart from him. Susan and Hermione were warm and affectionate. But Daphne seemed as cold as her eye color, holding him at arms length.

"What were you doing out at this time?" she asked. Her query didn't have the intensity that the same question would have had coming from Hermione. Their bushy haired friend was like a bull dog with a bone when there was a bit of knowledge to discover and she attacked it with a tenacity that was, at times, frightening. With Daphne, though her thirst for knowledge was no less, there was a more casual feeling to her query's and questions.

"Just out. I was reading," he held up the defense book he'd taken from the library. "I just didn't feel like sitting in the tower earlier."

"Hmmm… good morning, by the way."

"Good morning."

"You might want to hurry up and get ready. Hermione and Susan'll be down soon."

He gave her a smile and scurried past, rushing up the stairs to his dorm.

"Was that Harry?" Daphne looked up from where she'd just returned her attention back to her book to find Susan and Hermione standing near her, already dressed for class with their book bags over their shoulders.

"Yes. He was out, reading."

"Reading? He couldn't read here?" Hermione seemed confused.

"I did not ask for details. He just said he hadn't felt like sitting in the tower and was out, reading." Daphne tapped a finger against her lips as her eyes went to the ceiling in thought. "I did wonder why he was reading a fourth year defense text, but it is none of my business what he chooses to read in his free time."

Ten minutes later Harry came hurrying down the stairs, his hair still wet and his robes only half on as he tried to find his left sleeve, steady his book bag on his right shoulder, all while avoiding crashing into anything or tripping over his robes in his hurry.

Daphne sighed and set aside her book as she stood and approached him. He looked up, just as he shrugged his robes on and found himself facing that ice blue gaze that chilled and warmed him all at once.

"Really, Potter," she muttered as she waved her wand around him. "For the last scion of a Most Ancient and Noble house you really must take more care in your appearance. Appearance is everything to wizards." With a few cast spells his hair was dry, his rumpled robes were free of wrinkles and a few specks of lint had been banished away. She eyed him critically. "Best I can do," she said with another sigh. "That hair of yours I don't think will ever be anything but organized chaos."

He grinned. "Never been able to do a thing with it," he agreed. "And trust me, I've tried. Thank you Daphne."

She nodded and without a further word turned and picked up her bag and her book and swept her way out of the portrait hole. Her exchanged a look with Hermione and Susan and they shrugged, equally bemused by their bonded behavior.

"She's a bit… intense, isn't she?" Harry ventured as they were walking through the halls, Daphne some fifteen feet ahead of them.

"It'd have to do with her family," supplied Susan. "The Greengrass family has always been a neutral family. But from what I've heard her father is incredibly strict. Always expects perfection of those around him and I'm sure he would expect no less from his eldest daughter and heir to the family."

Harry considered that, stroking the scar behind his jaw with his right hand. "So she's always had really high expectations to live up to?"

"That'd be my guess."

He shrugged. "Well, we'll have to teach her the value of cutting loose now and then, won't we?"

They grinned but no further discussion was had as they reached the Gryffindor table and settled in to eat. Harry thanked Daphne as she handed him his morning potion and he uncorked the vial, downing it with a shudder and a look of revulsion on his face.

"That is truly foul," he muttered and chugged down a goblet of pumpkin juice in a vain attempt to wash the taste from his mouth.

"But it'll be worth it," Hermione assured him. "You're already starting to fill out some Harry." There was a light blush on her cheeks as she spoke but Harry didn't notice.

"I know. I just wish they could make them taste a little better."

Conversation around the table revolved around their upcoming Charms lesson. Professor Flitwick had informed them they would be learning the levitation charm that afternoon and excitement was the word of the day.

When the morning post came in Harry didn't look up. It was still a rare occurrence if something came for him, but a second later he noticed Hedwig come down and land in front of the plate on his left.

"Hedwig?" he asked, confused that she hadn't come to him. Some mornings she did, just to visit.

"She's got a response from Auntie," Susan said and Harry nodded as he remembered that he'd let Susan borrow Hedwig to send a letter to her Aunt the day before. After relieving the owl of her burden Hedwig hopped over to stand by Harry's plate and he gently stroked her feathers for a moment before handing her a piece of bacon which she gobbled up, greedily. After a dip of her beak into his goblet she gave him a short barking hoot and took to the air, quickly winging her way out of the window high up near the ceiling on her way to the owlrey.

Susan suddenly squealed and launched herself at Harry, who predictably stiffened up when her arms wrapped around him.

"She said yes!" she cried, practically bouncing in her seat.

"Yes to what?" he asked, bemused by her excitement.

Susan let go, suddenly looking nervous. "I-i asked my Aunt if you could come stay with us for the Christmas holidays," she said. "I know you were just planning on staying here so I figured it couldn't hut to ask. I didn't want to mention though unless she said no."

"That's amazing. I would love to. I've never celebrated Christmas before, do I need to bring anything or do anything?" His eyes were looking somewhere far away as he tried to remember everything he could about Christmas so he didn't notice the angry looks that passed over the three girls faces when he said that.

"Just yourself and a few changes of clothes, Harry. No one is expecting anything of you."

"But people give gifts at Christmas, right? I can't not bring anything."

"We'll do some shopping before the holidays," Susan assured him. "Aunt Amelia already said she'd be happy to take us to Diagon Alley so we can pick up presents." She leaned back and looked across Harry at Hermione, who quickly tried to hide a dejected look that had stolen onto her face. "You're invited too, Hermione. And you, of course, Daphne. You know my Aunt knows about," she stopped and looked around before lowering her voice, "about the bond, and she wouldn't dream of keeping us all apart from each other."

On their way to class Hermione pulled Susan aside and muttered, "I think we need to talk, just us girls."

Susan nodded, not entirely certain, but holding a sneaking suspicion as to the nature of the discussion they were going to have.

#####

Harry watched carefully as Professor Flitwick demonstrated the wand movement and then again when Hermione showed him, paying careful attention to the spells pronunciation. When he turned his attention to the feather sitting in front of him while the rest of the class continued to chant the incantation, waving their wands wildly, he focused his gaze on the feather, swished and flicked and carefully intoned the words to the spell, "wingardium leviosa."

The feather seemed to shiver for a moment but that was all.

He tried again. "Wingardium leviosa," he said and this time the feather jumped a centimeter or two before falling back to his desk.

Feeling bold by his partial success he drew himself up, focused on the magic he could feel inside him and pulled at it as hard as he could, pushing it down the length of his arm and into his wand which was practically humming in his grip as it seemed to eagerly soak up the power he was feeding it.

He didn't notice the three girls surrounding him gasp in unison and turn their eyes to him as he moved his wand. "Wingardium leviosa," he said, clearly and calmly and with a bang the feather shot into the air, straight up so fast that it literally buried itself into the stones of the ceiling above them where it quivered for a few moments before falling still.

The entire class fell silent, every eye now fixed on him and he blushed and shrank in on himself as if he were trying to hide.

"Well," Professor Flitwick squeaked, his eyes as wide as anyone else in the room. "Yes, very good, Mister Potter. Er, perhaps just a bit too much power though?"

Harry blushed as half the class started to chuckle lightly. "Sorry, Professor," he muttered.

"Quite all right, young man, quite all right." Professor Flitwick waved his wand and another feather appeared on the desk in front of Harry. "Impressive bit of magic there. Let's try it again, shall we, just put a little less oomph into it this time." He smiled brightly at Harry who returned the grin and nodded. "And five points to Gryffindor, I think, Mister Potter for that impressive display."

"You're pronouncing the spell wrong, Weasley," Daphne was saying from Susan's other side on Harry's left. "It's winGARdium make the gar nice and long."

Ron growled in frustration, glaring at the feather on his desk that had still yet to move. "You do it then," he snapped, "if you're so bloody smart."

Daphne sniffed and lifted her wand. "Wingardium leviosa," she said carefully and her her feather floated slowly into the air until it was hovering nearly three meters off of the ground.

"Excellent work, Miss Greengrass," Flitwick called out. "Ten more points to Gryffindor, well done." Daphne smiled, letting her feather drop back to her desk while Ron just scowled at her.

It was when they were walking down the stairs toward the great hall after class that it happened. Ron was in front with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan while Harry and Hermione stood behind them with Daphne and Susan further back.

"Honestly, she's a nightmare!" Ron was saying. "You know her whole families dark. Been in Slytherin for generations, the lot of them. I don't know how she got into Gryffindor but she should just slither her way down to the snake pit with the rest of the trash."

Harry heard a stifled sob and something brushed against his shoulder as a blond haired figure ran past and down the stairs. "Daphne!" he called out but she ignored him and kept running.

"I think she heard you," Dean muttered and Ron spluttered a bit before he felt a heavy hand suddenly land on his shoulder. He turned, just in time to see a pair of angry green eyes before a fist slammed into his jaw, sending him tumbling down the last four stairs to the landing. Harry might have still been under weight and lacking in muscle, but the punch still hurt the bigger boy.

"What the hell is your problem, Weasley?" Harry snarled. "Daphne is a good person, who's never done anything to you. You don't know the first thing about her but you just want to make assumptions because of her family? You're an idiot and she was just trying to help you in class today but instead of accepting that you just ignore her and insult her!"

Harry had rarely felt such anger before. A red haze descended over his eyes and he could feel the anger and magic welling up from somewhere deep within him and he didn't even try to shove it down as he normally would.

They'd drawn a crowd by that point, all of whom were staring, open mouthed at Harry as his robes and hair started to flutter and billow about him in a breeze centered exactly on him. The air felt charged, and a low buzzing and crackling sound filled their ears as raw magic crackled through the air.

"Harry," Hermione said, gently setting a hand on his shoulder as Susan did the same on his other side. "Calm down, he's not worth it." The look of loathing she directed toward the youngest Weasley was in complete counterpoint to the calming words and tone that she directed at Harry.

It took several seconds, but eventually Harrys robes and hair stopped fluttering and settled back down as the heavy feeling in the air receded and he turned to look at Hermione. He turned to his other side to look at Susan who just nodded and they started down the stairs. When they passed Ron who was still lying on the ground, clutching his jaw, Harry spoke again. "You keep talking about wanting to be my friend, Weasley," he snarled. "But I won't be friends with someone like you. Get your head out of your arse and apologize to Daphne and maybe we'll see what happens. But until then, you stay away from me and you stay away from my friends."

#####

"Where is she?" Harry muttered from his place at the table. The Great Hall had been decorated for the Halloween feast and he would have marveled at the giant floating jack o' lanterns and the swarms of live bats flitting about if he wasn't so worried about Daphne.

No one had seen her since she'd run off after Ron insulted her and he was getting worried. It'd been hours now. His eyes remained firmly fixed on the doors leading into the Great Hall and he scowled when Ron came into view. The red head took one look at Harry's angry face and scurried to the farthest end of the table he could get to, putting as much distance as possible between him and Harry Potter.

"Are you looking for Greengrass?"

Harry turned to find Lavender Brown standing behind him and nodded.

"I heard from Parvati that she was in the girls loo on the second floor. She's been in their crying all afternoon."

Harry immediately started to stand but Susan and Hermione both grabbed his arms and yanked him back into his seat.

"Leave her be, Harry. Sometimes a girl just needs some space."

"But we can't just leave her alone. The feast is about to start."

"When she wants our help, she'll come to us. I want to go check on her too but it could be best if we just leave her alone for now."

He didn't like it but he figured they knew the mind of a young girl better than he would so he grudgingly kept his seat. The feast was well underway and Harry was barely picking at the food on his plate, the taste of his potion still fresh in his mouth and worry gnawing at his gut the longer Daphne remained missing.

"I don't like this," he blurted out, dropping his fork onto his plate.

"I don't either, Harry, believe me," Hermione said with a sigh. "If she's not here in ten more minutes we'll go looking for her, okay?"

He nodded and glanced at her watch.

Just then the doors to the Great Hall burst open with a crash and Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the room his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table and gasped, "Troll- in the dungeons- thought you ought to know."

Then he fell in a dead faint.

The Great Hall erupted in frightened screams and chatter which took the Headmaster letting of a cannon blast from his wand to get them to quiet down.

"Prefects," he rumbled. "Lead your Houses back to your dormitories immediately while the staff and I investigate this matter." He turned and swept from the hall, the entire staff table following behind him.

As Percy Weasley, their fifth year prefect called for them all to follow him back to the tower Harry turned to Susan.

"How could a Troll even get into the castle? I thought this was the safest place in the world."

"I don't know," Susan fretted. "They're supposed to be really stupid."

Harry, Susan, and Hermione followed the rest of the house at the back of the crowd out of the Great Hall and into the Entrance Hall but instead of following them up the stairs to their left Harry immediately turned and started toward the stairs on the right.

"Harry? Where are you going?"

"Daphne!" he said, shortly. "She won't know about the troll. I'm not leaving her out here on her own." He ignored Susans quiet curse and Hermiones admonishment of 'language!' and simply hurried up the steps, taking them two at a time.

The three of them hustled down the corridor for the second floor loo when Harry suddenly heard a low shuffling sound and a loud grunt. The troll came into view a few seconds after the horrific stench that preceded it and he pushed himself against the hall, snatching Susan and Hermione with them.

"SShhhhh," he hissed when Susan opened her mouth to scream and she clapped a hand over her mouth, muffling the noise just in time.

The troll was huge, easily twelve feet tall and extremely ugly. Tree trunk sized legs covered in thick grey skin led up to a massive torso with arms so long the almost reached the things knees. It's head was smaller than he expected, slightly misshapen and thick drool dripped from it's chin. It wore little but a loincloth of some kind and in one hand it was dragging a massive club that look like it had just ripped a tree out of the ground and torn off the branches.

Directly at the end of the hall stood a tall set of double doors which the creature immediately stepped through.

Harry stared after it, eyes wide. "Is that- is that the girls loo?" he asked weakly.

Before either of them could say anything a piercing scream came from inside the room and Harry was already moving.

There were a couple of loud crashes from inside the room, followed by more screams and then he was blowing past the double doors.

In the space between seconds he took in the scene. Daphne was huddled in the corner of the room beneath the row of sinks. The bank of stalls on one side of the room had already been destroyed as well as three of the six sinks. The troll had just lifted its club to smash the next one in the line.

"GET DAPHNE!" he roared, and, wand in hand, leapt onto the trolls back without even checking to see if Susan and Hermione had obeyed him. He landed in the middle of the things back, fingers and trainers scrabbling for purchase, but somehow he clambered his way up and managed to wrap his arms around its neck.

The Troll suddenly reared back, bellowing in pain as Harry's wand jabbed it in the eye. It reached back with one hand, trying to grab him as it lurched around the bathroom. Harry hung on for dear life as he was tossed side to side, legs swinging wildly by the beasts lumbering movements.

Eventually it managed to grab the backs of his robes and yanked him around so that he hung upside down in its grip as it lifted him to eye level.

He jabbed his wand at it and bellowed, "Reducto!"

"Harry!" Hermione screamed. The spell shot from his wand and impacted against the Trolls shoulder but it simply erupted with a loud bang and a puff of smoke, leaving almost no damage.

"Harry, Troll's are incredibly resistant to magic. Spells won't get through that things skin!"

Shite, he thought as it lifted the club in its other hand and swung it. He swung his body into an awkward sort of situp, letting the club pass under him before falling back to dangle like a piece of bait on a hook. Now what do I do?

Twice more the creature swung its club and each time Harry dodged as best he could as the girls started grabbing chunks of masonry and pieces of pipe, throwing them at the back of the beasts head, shouting all the while. Nothing worked. The beast was not to be distracted from its intent of killing Harry and it roared so loudly he thought his ears were going to bleed.

There, hanging upside down in front of its face as its rancid breath washed over him Harry got an idea. He only prayed it would work before the thing killed him.

He pointed his wand, gathering in power as he had in class, pulling hard at that core of energy he'd learned to feel in his gut and shoved it down his arm, desperately willed it into his wand.

He twisted his wrist and jabbed with his wand and bellowed, "REDUCTO!"

The bright red curse that shot from his wand was easily half the size of a quaffel and it covered the distance between them in an instant, vanishing right into the Trolls mouth. Its jaw snapped shut and an instant later there was a muffled explosion as its head erupted, splattering blood, skin, bone, and brain matter all around the room.

The hand went limp and Harry fell, exhausted to the soaking wet floor. A moment later the troll toppled forward, landing with a resounding crash right on top of him and all he knew for several minutes was pain.

The next thing Harry knew, there were hands on him. Two hands under his arms dragging him across the floor as three different voices babbled his name repeatedly.

"Wha-"

"Oh my God, Harry! Are you ok?" Hermione.

"'Mione?" he mumbled.

"Yes, Harry it's me."

"Where's D-Daphne 'nd S'san?" he whispered. He felt like crap. His whole body hurt. His arms and legs felt like lead weights attached to his torso and he could barely force his eyes open. When he did everything was a blurred mess even though he could tell he was still wearing his glasses.

Ice blue eyes swam into focus, filled with tears and worry.

"D'nt cry," he mumbled. "You… kay?"

"I'm fine, Harry. Merlins beard, I'm fine. What were you thinking you idiot?"

"Couldn'… let i-it h-h-hurt you," he groaned and coughed as a stab of pain shot through his chest. He reached out and tapped her chest, right over her heart. "… S-s-soul…" Talking was getting hard, he decided.

"What in Morgana's name is going on in here?"

"Hi p'rfesr!" Harry called and weakly lifted one arm. Yeah, Harry remembered that he liked Professor McGonagall. She was strict, but fair and relatively nice.

"Mister Potter?!"

"Professor McGonagall-"

"- It was huge and rampaging and-"

"- He just jumped on it-"

"- Swinging its club around."

All three girls started babbling at the same time, each trying to explain what happened and Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Snape couldn't make heads or tails out of what they were saying.

"QUIET!" she bellowed and they instantly fell silent. "Miss Granger, could you please, calmly, explain what is going on here?"

"We were in the Great Hall at the feast and when we heard about the Troll we knew that Daphne wouldn't know about it so we came to get her. Well, Harry did, Susan and I just followed him to try and help, if we could."

"And why, exactly, was Miss Greengrass not at the feast?"

"Weasel," Harry muttered, darkly, though no one listened to him.

"Ron Weasley said some pretty mean things as we were leaving class earlier about Daphne and she heard him."

"I've been in here all afternoon, feeling sorry for myself," Daphne admitted in a quiet voice. Harry reached out blindly for her hand and a moment later felt someone grip his hand in theirs. He hoped it was Daphne.

"Then what happened?" Professor Flitwick asked.

"We had just gotten to the hall outside when we saw the Troll. Harry pulled me and Susan against the wall to hide and it walked in here. As soon as Harry figured out this was the loo where we heard Daphne was hiding he started running. He ran right in here and jumped on the trolls back."

"Idiot boy, what did he think he was going to do against a fully grown mountain Troll?" Snape snapped. Mentally, Harry chuckled. Snape snapped, he thought. That's funny.

"Well, he killed it, didn't he?" Susan shot back.

"How, exactly did he do that?" McGonagall asked. "For a first year student to kill a Troll like tha- great Merlin, its head is gone?!"

"No, it's actually all around us, Professor," Hermione corrected her, sounding rather disgusted. "It was holding him upside down by his robes and he shot off a spell. I don't know what but it was red and went right inside the Trolls mouth and, boom."

"Did you hear the spell Mister Potter used?"

"It sounded like he said 'Reducto,'"

"That is impossible, Miss Granger. The blasting curse is a fourth year spell. There is no way he cast it."

"Check his wand. Ask him when he's better, I don't care, but are you, the teachers in charge of our safety just going to leave him lying here on the floor?" Daphne suddenly snapped. "He's hurt, dammit. When the things head blew up it dropped him then the body fell on top of him. We'd just barely dragged him out from under it when you came in."

Whatever else happened, or was said, Harry couldn't say because it was at that point that blackness overtook him and he descended, blissfully, into oblivion.

#####

When next Harry was able to open his eyes it was with a pained groan and the realization that he was in the hospital wing. Again. Madam Pomfrey was going to kill him.

His mouth felt like the sahara desert in summer. His head was pounding. His limbs still felt weak and useless and sharp stabbing pains ran up and down his left leg and the left side of his chest. Something was wrapped around his left forearm that he couldn't identify.

"…Ter," he choked out.

"Harry? You're awake! Susan, run and grab Madam Pomfrey. Harry's awake."

"'Mione," he mumbled. "Wa-water."

Moments later he felt a straw against his lips and gratefully drank. Cool water flowed into his mouth, quelling the thirst and soothing his throat.

"Where're my g-glasses?"

"Here, Potter." Internally he winced. When he was hurt Daphne had spoken his name with warmth and affection in her voice. Now it looked like they were back to the cool indifferent Daphne. He accepted his glasses and clumsily managed to slip them onto his face with a bit of help.

Before she could pull away he took hold of her cool hand in his and squeezed it gently.

"I'm so glad you're okay," he whispered.

She bit her lip, icy gaze looking lost and confused, but she nodded and gently took her hand back. He felt a sudden sense of loss without it.

"Mister Potter!"

"Hey, Poppy," he greeted the mothering mediwitch. "I'm really sorry to drop in on you like this on such short notice, but I just couldn't keep away from you."

"You're going to be the death of me, Mister Potter," Madam Pomfrey said, a disapproving frown on her face despite the way her lips twitched as if she wanted to smile. Behind her he could hear at least one of the girls snickering quietly. "I thought I told you that I didn't want to see you in here again." She took out her wand and started casting diagnostic spells.

"Well, I'm half way through my potions regimen and I really wanted to show off how well they've been working. Not even recognizable from that skinny kid that came in here with a busted shoulder, eh?"

"If only you were as adept at avoiding trouble as you are skilled at understatement, perhaps you might not be lying here again. It is heartening to see how well the potions have been helping you, but I would recommend not letting a mountain Troll land on you the next time you find yourself with the irresistible urge to do battle with one."

He weakly attempted to snap the fingers on his right hand. "I knew I was forgetting something. Dodge after you fell the giant beast, good tip."

"Indeed. Well, it looks like the potions I managed to get into you have been doing their work just fine. You had six broken ribs, a fractured femur, bruised appendix and pancreas, and you were suffering from magical exhaustion."

"What's that last one on the grocery list?"

Someone behind the mediwitch snorted again and he did his best not to smile as Madam Pomfrey gave him another disapproving frown. "Just what it sounds like, Mister Potter. Magic is like a muscle. The more you use it, the stronger it is, but like any muscle you can overuse it and exhaust the reserves of power you have available."

"So I'm not going to be happy with life for a few days, is what you're saying?"

She snorted, doing her best to hold in a laugh. "No, Mister Potter, I dare say you will not. But," she added the last with a raised finger to emphasize her point, "you will recover just fine given some time and rest. I think I'll be keeping you here until tomorrow evening at the earliest but you should be well enough to attend dinner in the Great Hall. I don't want you taxing your magic for a few days though. Let it return on its own before you stress your core too much. Am I understood Mister Potter?"

He gave her a sloppy salute. Glancing down he frowned at his bare torso, only partially covered by a few bandages soaked in potion that were working on healing his fractured ribs.

"Who has been in to see me, Madam Pomfrey?" he asked and she patted his shoulder with a sympathetic look.

"Just myself and the young ladies here. Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster wanted to speak with you as soon as you were awake though." She leaned closer and whispered to him, "I have wrapped your left arm in bandages. I'm the only one that has seen that scar at the moment."

He nodded, gratefully, but still frowned at his current state of dress. "Would you happen to have something with long sleeves?" he asked.

"I'm afraid not, Mister Potter. I'm sorry."

Harry sighed and let his head fall back onto his pillow. "Might as well get this over with. Are they nearby?"

"I will send them a message right now." She turned to the girls standing nearby. "You three," she said, sharply. "You may stay, but you will give space when the Headmaster and Professor arrive and after they leave you have until curfew but you must not get Mister Potter wound up. He needs to rest. So I will kick you all out of here if I think you are being disruptive to that. Am I understood?"

All three girls nodded rapidly until she gave a little 'humph' and bustled off toward her office.

"Harry James Potter what were you thinking?" Hermione growled at him. "Jumping on the Troll's back?"

"It was the first thing to come to mind. I'd have stabbed it in the eye if I'd had a knife on hand. Jabbing it with my wand seemed the next best thing."

Hermione looked like couldn't decide whether she wanted to strangle him or kiss him. Eventually she settled on giving him a gentle hug for several long seconds before she sat up and moved away, only to be replaced by Susan.

"Thank you for saving her," Susan whispered. "She's as much a part of us now as she is you and I don't think we could have survived losing her."

Harry didn't really know what to say to that, even though half of it was lost in the haze of panic that always gripped him whenever one of the girls hugged him.

Susan moved away and took her seat on Hermione's right while Daphne moved around and sat on Hermione's left. For a brief moment Daphne leaned forward and whispered quickly in Harry's ear. Hermione and Susan looked on, confusion evident in their expressions but said nothing. Daphne sat back, quickly enough, but neither she or Harry looked like they were going to share what she'd said.

A moment later the doors to the hospital wing opened and all three girls stiffened when a flash of emotion tore through them and faded so fast they hadn't had the opportunity to even place a name to it.

"Ah, Mister Potter, so good of you to rejoin the land of the living," Professor Dumbledore said as he and McGonagall rounded the privacy screens around Harry's bed. "I trust you are none the…" His voice trailed off and though she made no sound McGonagall's mouth dropped open in shock when they finally laid eyes on him.

Despite the good that Harry's potions had been doing for his body he was still far too thin, though you couldn't count each individual rib anymore and the hollows around his collar bones were far less pronounced. It was the scars that stood out so sharply against his skin that drew them up short.

"Mister Potter," McGonagall breathed. "Merlin, child, what… who did this?" Shock had given way to anger and the last few words of her question were delivered in nearly a snarl.

"I would have thought it was pretty obvious, Professor," Harry said with a glance at his bandaged ribs. "There was this Troll, see? And like an idiot I went and charged in without thinking. Honestly, I think I got off pretty lightly compared to the Troll." Susan hid a grin behind her hand while Hermione looked scandalized that he would speak to a Professor in such an irreverent way.

"I did not mean your obvious injuries," McGonagall said with a disapproving glare on her face. "I meant those scars."

"I know what you meant Professor. However I fail to see how it is any business of yours. None of them happened here at Hogwarts and therefore have absolutely no bearing on my education." Thank you Daphne, he thought.

McGonagall looked like she wanted to disagree, loudly, but Dumbledore cut her off.

"Quite, right, Harry. Quite right. We shall not pry, but please, know that you may come speak to us, or any other professor at this school at any time if you have questions or concerns and they need not be limited to strictly academic reasons."

Harry nodded but didn't say anything.

"Now, we have already heard the story from the lovely young ladies here, but would you be so kind as to give us you recollection of the events that occurred tonight?"

Harry did. He spent a few minutes talking, explaining what happened after charms earlier in the day and his reasoning that Daphne would need to be told about the Troll.

"Why did you not ask a prefect or a teacher?" McGonagall asked.

"All the teachers had left with the Headmaster and the prefects were busy. They had an entire house of students to deal with, I didn't think they'd be able or willing to react quickly." He shrugged and winced when it cause a twinge in his ribs. "Anyway, after dangling around like a piece of bait on a hook for a bit I managed to get off a spell and I think you saw the results. Worked better than I expected it to, honestly."

"What exactly did you do?"

"Well, as I understand it, their skin is armored and resistant to magic. But inside might not be the same way. So when it was yelling at me I shot the spell into its open mouth."

Dumbledore and McGonagall both blinked, surprised by his answer. "That," the Headmaster said, slowly, "is actually a rather brilliant deduction. And well executed plan under rather stressful circumstances. I must say that I am rather impressed with your ingenuity. If I may ask, what spell did you use?"

"The Reducto curse, Professor."

"I find it interesting that you even knew such a spell, much less that you successfully cast it with such results."

"Why is that, Sir?" Harry asked.

"Well it is a fourth year spell."

Harry shrugged. "I thought it'd be a good idea to read ahead," he muttered.

"Indeed, studying ahead is a good idea, Mister Potter. I am simply curious as to why that particular spell is in your repertoire."

Harry fidgeted nervously for a moment before sighing and muttering something under his breath that no one was able to hear.

"Mister Potter?" McGonagall asked.

"I'm not strong," he bit out. "I'm not strong and I'm always surrounded by people bigger and stronger than I am." He was absently rubbing several of the scars on his right arm as he spoke, his eyes far away. "I figured it was in my best interests to learn spells I could use to defend myself."

"Might I ask what other spells have been added to your arsenal, Mister Potter?"

Harry thought for a second before answering, "uhhh… incarcerous, stupefy, incendio, conflagranto, expeliarmus, bombarda, confringo, difindo, and I've been working on the summoning charm but haven't quite gotten that one down yet."

"At least half of those spells, if used against another person, could deal significant injury," Dumbledore said with a disappointed tone to his voice. "Possibly even death."

Harry snorted. "That was kind of the idea. I stuck mostly to spells that could deal out wide area or exorbitant individual damage whenever possible."

"This, I must say, concerns me."

"Why?"

"It is a potentially dark path you find yourself walking, Mister Potter." Dumbledore sighed and folded his hands in his lap. "Seeking revenge is never a good thing."

"Learning to defend myself isn't about revenge, Professor. I just know that in a fight, treating your opponent with kid gloves is an easy way to get killed. Best thing to do is drop them hard and fast so they can't get back up and attack you again."

"True, as much as it pains me to admit that. I believe we are missing the point here, though. I am not so much surprised by your studying ahead," he said, "more that you are capable of casting that particular spell at your age.

"You see, there is a reason the curriculum is laid out the way it is. The reducto is a handy spell to have, and for an adult which or wizard uses surprisingly little power. For one your age, however, it usually takes quite a bit of power to cast. I am surprised to find you possess the power needed to cast it so well."

Harry simply shrugged again. He didn't really know what to say to that. The spell hadn't seemed all that difficult to him to be honest.

"Well I think we will leave you for tonight. Professor McGonagall wanted some adjustments to the house points for your actions in not seeking out a teacher or prefect, but I believe the injuries you have sustained should suffice as punishment." He stood and vanished his chair with a negligent wave of one hand. "Have a restful evening, Mister Potter."

With that, the two turned and left, leaving Harry, once again, at the tender mercies of the girls with him.

"You're an idiot, Potter," Daphne snapped without preamble. "I'm grateful you saved me, but you could have gotten yourself killed."

"Why do you do that?" he asked, too tired for his normal brain to mouth filter to function properly.

Daphne blinked, taken aback by his response.

"Do what?" she asked.

"You call me Potter. You don't say Harry except for a few times, and usually under stress. Only the teachers and people that hate me call me Potter."

The heel of Susans' hand made contact with her forehead as she cursed under her breath causing Harry and Hermione both to shift their focus in her direction.

She grinned, sheepishly, and shrugged. "I'm sorry," she said, "we keep forgetting how much you still have to learn about wizarding culture."

"Of course." Harry looked back at Daphne. "Potter, Hermione," she said, "in our culture it is considered rude to address someone by their first name unless that person has specifically invited you to do so."

Harry frowned as he thought that over.

"Wait, so you've been holding me at arms length because you thought I wanted you to?"

Daphne shrugged. "On the train, Susan says you asked her, Longbottom, Hermione, and Abbot to call you Harry. You never gave me that permission." She shifted nervously in her seat. "I thought you didn't like me as much. That you didn't want me to know you as Harry."

"Daphne," he started before pausing and thinking back through his memories. He couldn't remember if she'd ever said that he could use her first name so he shifted tack. "May I call you Daphne?" he asked and smiled when she nodded emphatically. "Daphne, this has obviously been a misunderstanding. In the muggle world, not by any real rule or anything, more often than not if someone uses your surname it's usually a sign that they're above you in some way like your boss or a teacher or something, or it's a sign of hostility. Bullies do that. Malfoy does it and he's a right berk. I always figure when people just use my last name that way they're hacked off at me about something or just don't like me."

She considered that information for a moment. "So we have each been looking at things from a completely opposite perspective here."

Harry nodded. "Please, Daphne. Call me Harry. I've been all this time thinking you didn't like me much cause you kept calling me Potter like Malfoy does."

Daphne gave him a small smile. "Looks like Susan and I will need to join Neville in giving you and Hermione more comprehensive lessons on wizarding culture. This is twice that a simple misunderstanding that could have been corrected has made life more difficult." He was grateful that she didn't come right out and mention the duel debacle, as he'd come to think of it.

"All right, ladies. Visiting hours are over," Madam Pomfrey said as she came around the privacy screens. "You can come visit Mister Potter again tomorrow morning. I assure you he will be perfectly safe under my care."

The girls all muttered a thank you to the mediwitch and each gave harry a careful hug before saying goodnight and making their way out of the hospital wing.

"You have some truly devoted friends with those three, Mister Potter," Madam Pomfrey pointed out as she was casting a few diagnostic spells over him.

"Not really sure how that happened. Something with this bond that I don't understand. Not that I really understand any of it, but they all seem to know more about it than I do and they seem to worry about me."

"They care about you."

"They don't know me."

"They don't need to. They're getting to know you and I can only imagine, from what I've seen of you thus far, they will only come to care more and more as time goes on."

He shrugged, his attention on the wall across from him. She handed him several potions to swallow, which he did, reluctantly.

"Rest well, Mister Potter. You will feel much better in the morning."

She gathered her materials together and started to walk away but a quiet call from Harry stopped her, "Madam Pomfrey?" he asked.

"Yes, Mister Potter?"

"Sorry for calling you Poppy, earlier. I've been told that's rude without permission, and you're the adult here, I shouldn't have done that."

"We'll let it slide, this time, Mister Potter."

"Madam Pomfrey?" he called again.

"Yes, Mister Potter?"

"Please, call me Harry?"

She smiled even though she knew he wouldn't be able to see her through the privacy screens.

"Goodnight, Harry."

"G'night, Madam Pomfrey."

#####

"I told you!" McGonagall practically screeched as the door to the headmasters office swung closed. "I told you they were the worst sort of muggles you could ever hope to find! But would you listen to me? NO! Albus bleed'n Dumbledore is always right about everything. No one else could possibly have a thought or any idea better than Albus Dumbledore."

Her rant wound down as she glared at the aged Wizard where he sat behind his desk.

"I had no idea," he muttered, hardly listening to his deputy. "When I met with Miss Granger and her parents, I didn't know who it was."

"What are you rambling about, Albus?" she snapped.

Albus Dumbledore blinked, as if coming out of a daze, and turned his tired blue eyes to look at Minerva.

"If you'll remember, on the first, when we spoke to the four of them I mentioned to Miss Granger that we had met before?"

"Yes, she commented that you explained the Soul Bond to her and her parents, as well as her being a witch."

"Well, it was the scars that got their attention to begin with. There was nothing to be done, though, without knowing who she was bonded to, there was no way to save the boy from where he was living."

"The…" she trailed off as her mouth dropped open. They had held several conversations since September 1st, where she had grilled Dumbledore for all the information she could on this bond and what it meant for her cubs. "You mean the Soul Scar Phenomenon? It's real?"

"Indeed it is."

"And Miss Granger shares all of those scars we just saw on Mister Potter?"

He simply nodded. "I imagine that Miss Bones and Miss Greengrass also wear the same scars."

"Sweet Morgana save them," she whimpered as she sagged into one of the chairs in the large office. "Albus, it's your fault that boy was put through what he's suffered the last ten years," she snarled. "Mine too, for not fighting you harder the night you left him there. You are getting him out of there, aren't you?"

"Absolutely, I am. I have already spoken with Madam Bones about looking into what we can do. Madam Pomfrey also wrote a letter to her and to the Department of Child Services after she discovered the scars when she was treating him for the dislocated shoulder he suffered during their first flying lesson. She informed me as we were leaving this evening."

"Shouldn't there have been some results by now? It's been over a month since that lesson."

"Normally, there would be, but Madam Bones wishes to pursue this investigation slowly and carefully. She doesn't want it to become public knowledge how he has been treated at the hands of his muggle relatives for fear of inciting the conservative bigots in our society. Also, once it becomes known that he is in need of a new guardian you know as well as I do that there is going to be a veritable feeding frenzy of families wishing to take him in."

"He should never have been there in the first place," she pointed out.

"And that, to my great shame, is entirely my failure. I was so positive that his Aunt, his mothers sister, would love and care for him as if he were her own. You know as well as I that Lily would have taken in her nephew without a moments hesitation had the situation been reversed."

Minerva smiled at that, something that frequently happened when she thought of the Potters. "True. But you have to remember that Lily was one of a kind and a truly compassionate individual. Not everyone in the world is as kind hearted as Lily Potter was."

"We are going to do everything we can to change his living arrangements, and ensure that he is with a family that will offer the correct care and support that he will need. My only concern is the extra reading Mister Potter has been doing…"

"What concern is there? Considering what he's obviously suffered through I find the measures he's been taking to learn ahead to be a simple matter of common sense being exercised for once, as it seems to be such a rare commodity in our society these days."

Albus didn't smile at the small joke, nor did the twinkle in his eye return as he sat, staring morosely at his desk. "It is the nature of the spells that he has chosen. So many spells capable of causing significant damage. I am reminded of another young orphan that was a student at this school, a long time ago. Since Mister Potter joined us here two months ago I have taken a long, hard look at many of my actions in the past and I am seeing some startling, and frankly, disturbing, parallels between these two students."

"And?"

"And, one of those students grew up to become known as Lord Voldemort." McGonagall flinched at the name and one hand flew to her mouth, her fingers trembling. "I don't intend to continue making the same mistakes that I made fifty years ago, Minerva."

"Will this investigation be completed any time in the near future?"

"Worry not, I have been assured that Mister Potter will not set foot at the home of his relatives ever again. Amelia is quietly making sure of that."

"Good." She took a deep breath and stood. She straightened her robes and turned for the door but paused, just before stepping through. "It's been commented many times already by other members of the staff how much Harry looks like his father," she said. "I see a lot of Lily in him, though. For both your sakes, I hope he hasn't inherited Lily Potter's temper."

"Why is that?" he wondered.

She turned slightly so she could look at him out of the corner of one eye. "Because one day, that boy is going to learn that it was you that left him to ten years of pain and suffering. And with the spells he's been learning, coupled with his mother's temper… I don't imagine it will be a good day to be Albus Dumbledore."

With that, she left the office and closed the door behind her without another word.

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, leaned back in his chair and contemplated the mistakes that had led him to fearing the wrath of an eleven-year-old boy, even as he knew he deserved whatever hatred may one day be directed at him.

#####

"You wanted to talk?"

Hermione looked to her right at Susan as the thee of them made their way to Gryffindor Tower with a blank look on her face.

"Right after breakfast, you said us girls needed to have a chat.

"Oh! Right." She paused and gathered her thoughts for a moment before diving in. "I think we need to try to understand a few things. And, honestly, I'm not sure how ready Harry would be for most of the discussion."

"There are any number of possible topics that would fall under that category, Hermione," Daphne said with an amused smirk twitching the corners of her lips. "You'll have to be a little more specific."

"Christmas Holidays."

"That's specific."

"Thought you'd appreciate that." Hermione couldn't prevent a smirk of her own but quickly turned her attention to a contrite Susan. "Don't even, Bones," she snapped, leveling a finger at the other girl. "No feeling bad for inviting Harry to spend the holidays with you. I had every intention of doing the same, I just hadn't written to my parents yet so you don't get to feel bad about it. Especially since Daphne and I are invited as well, it's not like you're trying to keep Harry to yourself."

Susan gave her a timid smile and nodded, accepting the rebuke in the manner it was intended.

"But that's part of the point here that I think we need to hash out between us. We all want to spend time with him. But we can't fight over him, and we can't treat him like property that we're sharing with each other either."

"What do you suggest we do then?"

Hermione wasn't entirely sure. She chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip as she considered the situation.

"Well one thing we can't do is keep score. No, 'Susan spent more time with him yesterday than I did', or anything like that. I know you two accepted me helping with the bruise salve when he hurt his shoulder and I appreciate that. That's the kind of thing we're going to have to keep up. Accepting that there will be times that one of us will be alone with him and understanding that we're not trying to steal him away or anything. Looks like we're going to have to just keep a really honest communication with each other and do our best not to treat Harry any differently."

"You realize we're going to fall in love with that boy one day," Daphne pointed out in a dry tone.

Hermione sighed and rubbed a hand across her face. "Yeah, pretty much doomed the second I laid eyes on him. And I'm sure he'll feel the same way, but he just doesn't understand it. Yet. I bet he couldn't even identify most emotions by name. And how's he going to react when he realizes he could have all three of us?

"Hell, I'm not sure how I feel about it. I've never considered sharing a boyfriend with someone else and with this bond our feelings are even murkier. I mean… I keep thinking I should be threatened by or jealous of the two of you, but I'm not." Daphne and Susan nodded, silently agreeing with her.

"I haven't felt the slightest bit of jealousy either," Susan admitted. "I feel just as close to the two of you as I do to Harry."

"What does that mean though?" Daphne asked. "Is it all because of the bond or what?"

"Hermione shrugged and leaned slightly to her left, bumping Daphne with her shoulder. "I haven't the foggiest," she admitted. "But it's a good thing, I guess, right? Less likelihood of us acting like jealous idiots around him?"

Daphne and Susan nodded again.

"Anyway, it doesn't really matter too much right now. Before we can figure out anything else, he needs to heal and that could take a while. I'm beginning to think that he might be even more damaged than I'd thought before." As she talked Hermione seemed to droop as a heavy sadness settled over her.

Susan stepped closer and wrapped one arm around Hermiones shoulder as they walked. "How do you mean," she asked.

Hermione sighed and subtly leaned against the other girl. "Well he obviously doesn't have much faith in or trust for adults or authority figures. Not saying he should just trust them blindly, but he's going to need some kind of parental figure to go to for advice and help sometimes."

"Hopefully he'll get that when they get him away from the Dursley's," Daphne pointed out.

"But it's his psychological state I'm most concerned about. His body can and will heal, sooner rather than later. But his mind is a different concern."

Daphne and Susan exchanged a look over Hermione's head. "How do you mean?" Daphne asked, purposely echoing Susan.

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip again, thinking over everything she'd observed about one Harry James Potter over the previous two months.

"Have you noticed how he watches people?"

Daphne and Susan looked confused for a moment before Daphne spoke, "I'll ask again, 'how do you mean?'"

"He watches people, all the time. When he's not reading or doing homework he's watching. His eyes are moving constantly, studying people. How they move, how they talk, how they interact with others. He's always one of the last ones to laugh at a joke, mostly because he's watching everyone else for cues on how he's supposed to act. At best, I'd imagine, Harry is an extremely high functioning sociopath. He feels everything, but he doesn't know what it is or what to do with it or really how to properly express it so he's faking it. Pretending he's just like everyone else."

"I don't know what a sociopath is," Susan started, "but I think I get it. He's going to need some serious healing before he's ready to consider his relationships with other people, much less us. But… isn't there something wrong about all this?" she asked. "I mean. It feels like we're manipulating him. Controlling him by making all these decisions about him behind his back. You remember what happened when he thought Daphne lied about Madam Pomfrey not talking about his scars."

All three shuddered briefly at that before Hermione and Daphne both nodded, sighing in near perfect unison. "I'm not thrilled about it either, Susan," Hermione admitted. "But we're simply not equipped to help him in the traditional sense. Normally he should be seeing a therapist and talking out his problems here. I think if we just give him time, and we bring up some ideas later to help him but we ask, offer options, make it clear we're not trying to manipulate him but just want to help-"

"Hermione." Susan stepped in front of her, arm sliding across the other girl until she could place both hands on her shoulders and stopped her in their walk. Hermione came to a stop and looked into the deeb blue gaze of her friend and bond mate. Susan could see fear and uncertainty floating in Hermione's cinnamon gaze, her face tense and pinched with worry.

"Hermione you're not his mother. You're not his healer. You're his friend, and one day you'll be more than that. But you need to stop looking at him as something to fix." She hesitated for a second, unsure if she should really say the next bit that immediately came to her mind. "You realize how much he hates how all those people look at him and see nothing but the Boy-Who-Lived, right? They don't actually see Harry."

Hermione nodded, shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot but not looking away from the girl in front of her even as she felt Daphne come up to her side and place one arm over her shoulders.

"Well you're almost doing the same thing right now." Hermione opened her mouth to argue against that when Susan cut her off. "Not exactly the same, or to the same degree but you are, Hermione. You're not seeing Harry, the cute, sweet, protective boy that loves to fly and loses arguments with his owl. You're not seeing the boy that loves to read fantasy novels even when he lives surrounded by magic all the time. You're seeing a project. Something broken that needs to be fixed."

"Susan's right, Hermione. Stop focusing on what's hurting Harry and start focusing on what's healing him. Just be with him. When you talk to him, don't look for things he's going to let slip, don't analyze the words he uses. Just have a conversation. Talk about a novel you've both read or a class project. Ask him how it feels to him to go flying. Hell, ask him to take you for a spin around the pitch. Just… focus on Harry. That will help him more than any plans or schedules or methods to try to get him to open up that you could come up with."

Hermione nodded slowly, her mind turning over the other girls words. "I've just… I spent so long working out how I was going to help him. I have dozens of books on psychology and PTSD and psychiatric methods to help abuse suffers recover and-"

"And that's the problem," Daphne cut in, gently. "It's not a bad thing, the way you research and try to understand everything but, Hermione, your world is all about facts and information. But you're also an emotional person and that logical, rational brain of yours is fighting with your emotions. For a while, just let go of all that and worry about just being here with him."

She nodded again and Susan could feel the tension slowly ease from her shoulders. She pulled Hermione into a quick hug and then stepped to her side, wrapping one arm around her waist even as Daphne kept her arm across Hermione's shoulders as the three of them silently made the rest of the journey to Gryffindor tower.

Once inside they headed for the dorm and climbed into their beds. Hermione glanced at the closed curtains around Lavender and Parvatis beds as she climbed into her own, idly thinking that they hadn't made much effort to get to know the other girls in their dorm.

She pushed the thought aside though and just closed the curtains around her own bed before she climbed under her blankets and laid her head on the pillow, sighing deeply as she tried to go to sleep.

Half an hour later, she was still awake, staring up at the darkened canopy of the bed above her when her curtains slid open slightly and she glanced over to find dim candle light glinting off of long, straight blond hair.

"Daphne?" she whispered. "What is it?"

Hermione waited as Daphne fidgeted nervously, shifting her weight from foot to foot for a moment, her face a study of nervous indecision even as those same emotions flooded across their bond. Hermione thought it was strange, but still a good thing, to be able to feel the emotion of the other girls in the bond with her. Somewhere at the back of her mind she worried about the possible implications but consciously she hadn't given it much thought.

"What's wrong?" she asked, finally.

"I can't sleep," Daphne admitted, sounding almost forlorn. "I-I keep seeing the Troll and… Harry, lying on the floor just… broken."

Hermione nodded and slid back a bit in her bed, pulling open the covers in invitation.

Daphne hesitated for a moment longer, but eventually she climbed into the bed, pulling the curtains shut behind her as she slid under the blankets and moved closer to the other girl. She pressed her face into Hermione's shoulder and her arm came up, clutching at her bond mate, almost desperately as fear and a sense of loss flowed through their bond.

Within a minute the curtains opened again, and without a word, Susan slid into the bed behind Daphne. She laid down, one arm coming up to wrap around the blonds waist and the three girls settled in, Hermione and Susan doing their best to comfort the distraught member of their group.

Within minutes, drawn and tired from the long and emotional day, the three of them drifted off, taking comfort in each others presence.