Beta: FlyingLovegood123
"So, how come you have to stay with your aunt and uncle?"
Harry sighed when he heard the question. It was natural that Edward would be curious about that and he was actually surprised that the other boy hadn't mentioned the topic until now. However, knowing that didn't make him feel anymore comfortable about this particular discussion.
"The Dursleys are my only relatives. My parents…" he swallowed with difficulty "they are dead…murdered."
The atmosphere suddenly became unbearably heavy with tension and a dead silence followed his sentence. Edward lamented his thoughtlessness; he looked extremely guilty for bringing this up. He opened his mouth, trying to find some comforting words to say to his new friend but halted when he couldn't come up with any, instead settled on a simple, whispered "Sorry."
"It's okay, I don't even remember them." Harry wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his chin on his knees "Wish I had, though."
He had intended to just stop there. But he had bottled up his worries for too long and hadn't had any chance to actually share them with anyone, and they were bugging him to no end. He wanted to talk to Hagrid, but the gamekeeper was probably miles away. So even though Edward might not actually understand anything he said, Harry still needed to let it all out.
"I'm really not sure about going to Hogwart." He mumbled, just loud enough for Edward to hear.
"But why? I thought you wanted to get out of here?"
"Of course I do! I was ecstatic when I discover I'm a wizard. But…"
"But…?" Edward inquired.
"Everyone I met in Diagon Alley think I'm someone special." Harry stared at the floor, recalling every person he encountered in that place "Like I've done something really great or something."
Edward was searching through his own memories. A flash back of the Rusty Cauldron with Harry surrounded by a large crowd, shaking one hand after another surfaced in his mind.
"Yeah, about that. You said you only knew about your magic recently, so how come you seem famous in the magic world?"
Harry looked up at Edward and was reminded that he went to buy his things separately from Hagrid and himself, so he missed out a lot of their conversations. Taking a deep breath, Harry repeated Hagrid's story about Voldemort, his parents' death and his miraculous survival.
"…and now they all look at me like I'm their savior. But I don't actually know anything about that night. All I've got is this." He pushed back his bang, revealing his lightning-shaped scar "They expect me to be extraordinary. How am I supposed to live up to that?" He fell back into silence.
"Well, at least you know who you are." Edward leaned against the bed, his eyes sad and unseeing "I've tried so hard to recall something, anything. But I've got nothing. It's like I didn't exist before."
Harry looked over at Edward and felt his own frustration ebb away. While they both had their situation, at least he had something solid to cling onto. He knew the other boy desperately wanted to remember his past, but after a certain event several days ago, he wasn't sure if Edward wasn't better off forgetting.
"Hey Harry, do you have any spare clothes?"
Harry watched as Edward entered the room, the front of his shirt covered in white paint. Deciding mentally not to ask what happened, Harry pointed to his small wardrobe.
"There are some clean ones, but they are all Dudley-sized. I think they'd even fit a small elephant."
"But this is my last shirt." Edward let out a sigh "Beggars can't be choosers, I guess."
He rummaged through the piles of clothes for something appropriate, but was finally forced to resign to the fact that they would be baggy even for an elephant. But he needed to change, so in the end he just picked a random shirt and pulled his own off over his head. Harry watched the movement out of the corner of his eyes…
…and he gaped at what he saw. Edward's back, which was now visible, was covered in scars, in different sizes and shapes. Lines crisscrossed his pale skin, some was just scratches that had almost faded, but some others looked like remains of gashes which must have been really serious injuries. Some of them seemed to have come from a whip, but the remaining majority was made by something sharp, like a dagger or a knife. One particularly deep scar looked like the result of someone trying to cut him in half. The most horrible sight was a large puncture wound that had healed, yet still left a visible mark of dead flesh that was surrounded by dark bruises. Noticing Harry's gasp, Edward turned around, revealing his front, which was just as badly marred. Standing out the most was a large patch of charred skin in the center of his chest that seemed to be a burn. It looked several years old, but that by no means made the wound appearance any more pleasant to the eyes. Just imagining how painful it must have been when the burn was inflicted made Harry shudder. Seeing Harry's astonished face, Edward followed his gaze and immediately spotted what he was looking at. Feeling color rose to his cheeks, Edward hastily put on the new shirt, conscious that Harry's eyes were still glued on him. Harry stammered, struggled to say the words.
"You…how…how did you get those scars?"
Edward shrugged, and tried to speak as nonchalantly as possible.
"I don't have any memory, remember?"
Harry was reeling by what he saw. Did someone do this to Edward? How can you do that to a person? Sure, he had always had it rough at the Dursleys, but they had never resorted to physical means that would leave marks on his body, not even Uncle Vernon, who was extremely short-tempered. He suddenly found himself really troubled by Edward's origin, because judging from what he seen, the boy was lucky to even be alive.
Feeling uncomfortable, Edward stooped down to pick up his stained shirt and made his way out of the room, but was tripped by the extremely long piece of fabric he was wearing.
"Oh, for the love of…" he tried to get up, but the sleeves were tangling him. Frustrated, he glared at them and the shirt began to shrink until it was about one-thirds its original size.
"There, that fits nicely." He dusted himself off and opened the door.
Neither of them had mentioned anything about that incident, but Harry still wondered what kind of life Edward had led. If those scars were the kind of mistreatment Edward received, then this house seemed like a paradise in comparison. Looking around the room to try and take his mind off the depressing subject, his eyes landed on the calendar. He stood up, took out his pen and crossed out another day on it.
"Only a week left." He remarked.
"Well then, in the mean time," Edward gave a mischievous grin "want to try giving Dudley that snout ourselves?"
Harry laughed. Of course, they would never do it for real, but there was nothing wrong with entertaining the idea.
