Warning: Sexual abuse and aggression

The days passed, and soon the weeks followed. Yet, there were still some young students staring at Harry on the corridors, gawking at the greenness of his tie, or murmuring gossip in hushed tones, though not low enough to escape Harry's ears. He had grown accustomed to it; it wasn't the first time he had been the target of baseless rumors circulating throughout the castle.

"You'll be okay Harry, you're strong, aren't you? You adapt easily" Hagrid had reassured him over afternoon tea.

Did he? Did he adapt easily? He had learned to cope with the Dursleys; he had managed to adapt to the Wizarding World after spending ten years in the most mundane Muggle family imaginable; and he had managed to get used to fame after being treated as insignificant as a pair of socks. So yes, he guessed he adapted easily. But that didn't take away the pangs of loneliness that he had not experienced since his childhood. The bullying was gradually abating, though perhaps his roommates were getting tired of giving him attention, or perhaps they were simply running out of ideas.

Soon after realizing Harry was still seeing his friends in the library and hallways, Umbridge came up with a new decree prohibiting all students from hanging out with teenagers from other houses, in order to "not lose focus." It was blatantly absurd, and everyone knew she had created this rule specifically for Harry Potter. It was as if she didn't even try to hide it anymore.

Of course, Harry still had his cloak of invisibility, enabling him to occasionally sneak into the Gryffindor common room or join his best friends in Hagrid's hut. He also had the mirror to talk to Sirius, but he never used it, feeling like he might bother him with his futile problems. Aside from these moments shared with his friends, his days seemed to drag on interminably in solitude.

Most of the time, he engaged in brief conversations with the Slytherin girls, until Pansy put an end to it by sitting at their table, visibly offended that her roommates appeared cordial to "bloody Potter". He had also found himself conversing with Theodore, generally late at night in the common room, when the others were already in bed, too lazy to finish their homework. The boy was quiet, but Harry still felt comfortable in his company, as if his presence were enough.

Strangely enough, another boy seemed to fill a part of his solitude—a boy he had never imagined sharing time with: Malfoy. The blond young man had decided, without Harry's consent, to sit beside him almost every class, much to the other Slytherins' greatest annoyance. He didn't talk much, nor did he listen to Harry. He was just here, working quietly and occasionally asking some questions without appearing too interested in the answer, as if his ego would bruise. Harry didn't really understand why he was doing that; he could perfectly sit with his friends instead of Harry, but he didn't. It had some benefits, though, like the significant raise in his grades, particularly in Potion and Transfiguration, as Malfoy, despite being arrogant, was indeed a skilled student.

It didn't please Hermione and Ron, obviously. When Malfoy had taken a seat beside "The boy who lived" during potion class, all the Gryffindors had gone quiet for a whole minute, as if they had expected something bad to happen.

"We're not doing work groups today..." Harry had told him, in a tone that suggested the boy could —and should— sit somewhere else.

"I know."

And he stayed there, working quietly on his cauldron, sometimes handing Harry ingredients or pointing at a specific line in their book that Harry had obviously missed—his potion taking on a strange brownish color.

"His behavior is strange, Harry; it's suspicious." Hermione had told him after the class. Her eyebrows had contorted into a very dark frown.

It was weird in a way. But it also felt good to have moments of peace in his dark year. Between the torture sessions Umbridge kept giving him for no good reason and the disastrous Occlumency nights with Snape that worsened his nightmares, he felt as though he was suffocating most of the time.

(***)

Harry woke up in the middle of the night, panting and sweating once again. He attempted to calm down by taking deep breaths, but he heard sighs from the other side of the room. He couldn't tell if it came from Pike's or Goyle's bed, but he was certain someone had expressed his discontent. Harry pursed his lips; he hated waking others up, and when he only made his Gryffindor friends worry back in the day, he knew he irritated his Slytherin roommates. He couldn't really blame them; he had nightmares almost every night, and if he usually remembered to cast a muffliato charm, he sometimes fell asleep before taking any precaution. Coming back to the common room after a full day of classes with the Slytherins, an hour of forced scarification and another hour of brain violation made him incapable of controlling his dreams like he was supposed to, and neither Snape nor his friends seemed to understand it. He felt drained, as if he were a sponge that someone had wrung out until not a single drop of water remained.

"You had a nightmare, again." Malfoy said during a care of magical creatures class. Both were at the back of the group, near a tree, far from Hagrid.

"Yes, sorry."

"I didn't say that for you to apologize," he replied without looking at him.

Umbridge had decided to show up once again in Hagrid's class. The small woman was standing not far from the poor teacher, and unfortunately not far from Harry either. Hagrid always appeared tremendously anxious when the headmistress was standing close to him; he kept searching for his words as he looked for emotional support from Harry, his hands gesticulating oddly around his large body.

"Hum—good mornin' class! Today, hum— we'll study, well— we'll work on Nifflers, very inoffensive creatures, really, yes, really inoffensive…"

Umbridge kept staring at him with raised eyebrows, as if she were waiting for any tiny occasion to prevent him from holding the class.

"God, can't he articulate? We don't understand anything." Malfoy complained, leaning against the tree.

Harry rolled his eyes before glaring at him. He finally remembered why he had despised him in the first place.

"He's doing his best; she does everything to stress him." The young man spat, "And I'm not sure, but I think I remember a self-centered student who almost got Hagrid fired because of his stupidity."

Malfoy looked at his classmate in silence, fully aware that the latter was correct but obviously too proud to admit it.

"This filthy bird hurt me."

"And you deserved it." Harry replied, his attention focused on Hagrid, who was trying his best to share his knowledge about nifflers.

He almost averted his eyes to glance at Malfoy when the Slytherin didn't answer, but he preferred taking this silence as a small victory.

Hagrid's monologue seemed never-ending. Harry was trying to stay focused, more as a show of support than out of genuine interest in the characteristics of Nifflers. It was easy to notice that he was the only one making an effort. The Slytherin boys eventually joined the two boys, most of them looking slightly annoyed with Malfoy's tendency to stick around Harry. Blaise put his long arm around Malfoy's shoulders and slowly dragged him away from the dark-haired boy, who pretended not to care.

"Come on, Draco, why are you always with weepy Potter?" He told him in a voice audible to the majority of the students.

Harry kept his attention on the gamekeeper, ignoring the group passing close to him and Goyle's wide shoulder colliding with his arm on their way. He also tried not to look at Draco when Blaise spoke; he didn't want to know his answer or reaction; it wasn't like he cared.

And yet, when he heard Draco's laugh, he felt his heart sink.

Umbridge was staring at him, her vile smile expanding as she was visibly satisfied to witness Harry's loneliness. The young man returned her gaze with a cold and impassive expression, like he used to have when the Dursleys tried to make him lose his temper. He eventually won the fight when the headmistress averted her eyes from him to scowl at Hagrid. The man had finally finished his long explanation about Nifflers. He clapped awkwardly with his wide hands to grab the attention of his distracted students and said:

"Now you'll work in pairs and feed a niffler. I also expect you to take note while you observe your niffler, alright?"

Everyone agreed, some more excited than others by the task, and the teenagers started looking for a partner. Harry sighed; the presence of Umbridge prevented him from pairing with any Hufflepuff classmate. He naturally turned to find Malfoy, as the two were usually sitting next to each other in Potion and Transfiguration, but Blaise had kept his arms around him, holding him firmly as if he were his prey. The two were laughing over something Harry couldn't hear, and before the blonde boy had time to notice Harry, he quickly glanced somewhere else, a ball of embarrassment growing larger inside his stomach. He had no idea what to do; all the Slytherin girls were already pairing, and the only student remaining was Pansy, who was standing next to her roommates, glaring at Malfoy. She finally realized her only option left was Harry, which seemed to offend her as much as it upset him. She grimaced and looked for an escape. She almost asked Hagrid something—certainly if she could work alone—when Theodore straightened up from the tree he and Pike were leaning against, and drew near Harry.

"I'll pair with you." He said to Harry, "Pansy, you can work with Pike." He muttered when he walked past the girl.
The scene had gotten unnecessarily intense; with the Slytherins looking astonished by Theodore's decision; and Pike, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle's grimaces hinting at a feeling of betrayal. On the other hand, the Hufflepuffs seemed surprised but interested in all the drama unfolding in the Slytherin house. Hagrid had a somewhat dejected expression as he observed Harry, finally realizing his young friend had every reason to feel lonely.

As for Umbridge, her gaze conveyed mild annoyance toward Theodore. However, she refrained from commenting and decided she had seen enough. She smoothed out her pink dress with her chubby hands and announced her departure for the castle, even though no one cared about this information.

When Theodore arrived next to Harry, he immediately started feeding the black Niffler, who was playing inside the little enclosure.

"Thank you…" Harry muttered.

"It's fine; Pansy was about to make a scene; nobody wants to endure so much drama."

Harry didn't know how to respond; of course, Theodore hadn't paired with him out of pure kindness, but he had done it anyway, despite his friends' judgments. And for this, he felt grateful.

Theodore wasn't very talkative, but neither was Harry, so they both found their accounts as they fed and studied the small creature.

Unfortunately, Blaise decided to feed the Niffler right next to them, forcing Harry to overhear all his remarks and conversations he shared with Malfoy.

"Funny how much these creatures like money, Potter; you could have given them the price you stole from Diggory; it's not like you're using it anyway, considering how you dress." The tall student commented, making his classmates around him giggle.

Harry stared at the enclosure in front of him, his fist clenched under his long sleeves.

"Or perhaps I could have paid you for therapy sessions; I feel like your wickedness hides a certain misery you're not assuming," he murmured.

Blaise was about to reply when Theodore rolled his eyes.

"Guys, just because you can't seem to stop fighting like children doesn't mean I agree to receive a bad grade." "Please save your jokes for later, Blaise."

Harry quickly glanced at his coworker; he looked genuinely irritated, scribbling notes on his parchment. Harry then turned his attention to his right; Blaise looked upset but refrained from continuing the argument, even though he kept muttering inaudible comments only Draco could hear. Harry quickly cast a look at the blonde boy, expecting that at least he would be on Theodore's side, but he only nodded to his friend's whispers with a small grin.

He is such a hypocrite, Harry observed. Malfoy acted so differently depending on who gravitated around him. He sighed as he passed behind Theodore to grab the burlap sack full of food before they finished the work in complete silence.

And so the day passed in Slytherin—endless, with no one he could really trust.

However, Harry would have never expected what he was about to experience when he fell asleep that night.

(***)

Harry kept fidgeting under his blanket, unable to relax. His Occlumency session an hour prior had been particularly hectic; Snape had scolded him like he had rarely done before when the man witnessed how detailed and frequent Harry's nightmares were, proving the boy wasn't trying to close his mind enough.

He was right; Harry wasn't trying anymore. He was tired, angry, and, most of all, curious about what was hiding behind this strange door. The boy sighed and stared at the green curtain above him. The room was utterly quiet; it must have been three in the morning, or maybe four; he had stopped checking the time.

Sleep, sleep, sleep," he whispered to himself.

And he eventually succeeded, but only to experience an extremely disturbing nightmare. He woke up to the sound of an eerie voice murmuring in his ear—the voice of Voldemort. His sheets were soaking wet from his sweat; he could feel strands of hair pressed against his painful forehead. His hands, which were supporting his weight as he was awkwardly sitting on the mattress, were shaking heavily. He needed a shower.

The floor was freezing under his bare feet as he slowly stood up. As he headed as quietly as possible to the tiny bathroom next to their room, he hoped he hadn't awoken any of his roommates. He gently closed the door behind him before leaning against it for a few moments. The images and voice kept invading his mind, and for the first time, he didn't want to know what was at the end of this corridor anymore. Snape had been right; he should have tried harder and practiced more, even though it was difficult. Harry undressed with his shaky hands before dragging himself under the hot water of the shower. He let the water flow through his untidy hair, the droplets quickly blending with his sweat until his whole body was wet. It felt good; his muscles relaxed, and his heartbeat gradually slowed down to a normal speed as his legs and hands stopped shaking.

Harry stayed in the shower longer than he usually did. He had time; he knew perfectly well he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep even though the sky was still completely dark outside the windows. When he turned off the water, it was only because his skin was starting to wrinkle at the tips of his fingers. He went to grab his towel hanging on the marble sink when the door suddenly flew open with a loud bang. Harry gasped and wrapped the towel around his waist as fast as he could.

"It's occupied!" He exclaimed, even if he felt like the intruders knew that.

Blaise, followed by Crabbe and Goyle, entered the small and steamy room, still in their pajamas—although it may be debatable whether Blaise's boxers could be classified as such.
Harry backed up until his back hit the tile wall. His wand was laid on his stack of clothes at the entrance, right next to the tall teenagers and too far out of his reach.

"Hi Potter, slept well?' Blaise asked, still advancing towards the scared and defenseless boy. "Nice scar," he added as he glanced at Harry's forearm.

"What do you want?" Harry spat, hiding his arm behind his back.

"Well," The boy glanced at the ceiling as if he were considering how to answer before returning his gaze to Harry, "We got woken up by your sweet voice, again." He put emphasis on the word "again".

"I'm sorry…"

Harry tried glancing around to see if there was anything he could use to defend himself or get away, but his glasses were on the sink, making things more difficult to see.

"Listen, I'm really sorry." "I'll try to remember to cast a silencing charm every night, I promise."

Blaise chuckled. He didn't look convinced at all. He stopped right in front of Harry, so close that Harry could almost smell his breath.

"You know, Potter, I'm starting to get really sick of seeing your face every day; it gives me pimples, you see?" He pointed at a small pimple on his jaw, the only one on his entire face.

"I'm getting sick of your voice, your ugly, frail body, your arrogant face, just your mere presence... everything."

Harry stared at him for a few moments, not really knowing what he could say. The overall situation was tremendously awkward; the two boys were standing face to face, half naked, and observed by Crabbe and Goyle from the back of the room.

"Hum… Maybe you can bring it up with the headmistress? You know, I'd love to go back to Gryffindor's room too."

Blaise pushed him with his hands against the wall.

"Stop with your sarcasm; I don't think it's the moment for you to joke."

"I don't know what you want from me, Blaise." Harry replied, starting to feel annoyed.

"I want to destroy you."

Harry could have laughed at that; after what he had gone through and with whom he had fought before, Blaise's threat sounded almost funny. However, Blaise's eyes clearly indicated imminent danger.

"I noticed you like to fight like a muggle," Blaise said quietly, his face too close to Harry's. "So let's do it the muggle way."

His smile foretold a violent attack, telling Harry to run away.

The dark-haired boy waited a second, completely still as he stared at his opponent, then used his quidditch skills to sneak out. He rushed to the only small hole Blaise's body wasn't occupying as fast as possible, but a hand suddenly grabbed his arm, making him violently fall backward. The back of his head bumped into the coldness of the tiles, right before his nose loudly cracked under Blaise's fist. He wanted to scream in pain, but his classmate's hand covered his mouth, preventing him from producing any sound.

"Shhh, don't wake up the others; it's rude."

Blaise turned around and ordered his two friends to approach and hold Harry firmly. The young boy started to struggle in a desperate attempt to free himself, but his physical strength was not his best skill. They seized him by the arms and shoulders, while Blaise crouched down in front of him like a predator facing his prey.

"That," he said as he pointed at Harry's bloody nose, "is for what you did last time."

The metallic taste of his own blood started invading Harry's mouth. His towel was barely hiding his body; he was cold, exposed, and greatly humiliated.

"But I'm not done yet with you." Blaise added.

Even crouched down, he was still taller than Harry; he tilted his head, forcing his victim to look him in the eyes.

"Sounds like it's fun to hang out with you; I wonder how good a cocksucker you are to have managed to get Draco and Theo on your side," Blaise continued.

Harry frowned at him. He didn't understand what he meant, but his anxiety was gradually rising in his chest.

"Well, I guess the one you sucked the most in this school is Dumbledore, isn't it?"

"Let me go!" Harry growled. Crabbe and Goyle's grips started to hurt him.

"Well, not before I see your skills for myself," Blaise smirked as he got back to his feet and started pulling down his boxers.

Harry gaped at the surrealist scene unfolding before him. Even the two aggressors holding him unconsciously loosened their grip a little.

"Hold him tight." He ordered the two Slytherins, who flinched before immediately immobilizing Harry.

Blaise grabbed Harry's hair, making him grimace in pain. The boy wanted to throw up; he shut his eyes tightly and attempted to resist the taller boy's strength, but it only ended up hurting his neck and skull. He felt his head being violently pulled forward; his heart was racing as his head was spinning. A part of him hoped it was just a nightmare, that he hadn't woken up and was still fidgeting in his bed.

Unfortunately, while he was pursing his lips to prevent any external objects from entering his mouth, he felt something he refused to watch touch the corner of his mouth.

"Come on, were you that picky with the others?" Blaise laughed, forcing Harry's head against his crotch.

I could bite him. Harry thought. But he didn't know what consequence it would have for him; he was still alone in a room with three young men stronger than him.

What if I just did it? Would it be over?

He couldn't; there was no way he could let him win and humiliate him in that way.

The blood running from his nose and his mouth being firmly shut prevented him from breathing. He knew that once he needed to catch his breath, it would be over for him. When he thought he had no other choice but to oblige, he reluctantly opened his mouth under Blaise's triumphant laugh, when the door flew open. Blaise briskly released his hair, and he turned around.

(***)

The first time Draco woke up, he spotted Potter staggering to his feet, his legs slightly shaking, and his wet shirt sticking against his skin. He looked pale —at least paler than usual. Draco observed him heading to the bathroom, then closed his eyes when the boy disappeared behind the door. He'd better let him deal with his demons.

The second time Draco woke up, he heard sounds coming from the other beds, then Blaise whispering something. Draco opened the curtain slightly; the tall young man was standing next to Goyle's bed with Crabbe, and the three of them were glancing at the bathroom door.

"Let Pike sleep; we don't need him." Blaise muttered before they headed to the door.

Draco frowned. He knew they were not about to help Harry—quite the opposite. He could have stopped them; he could have stood and asked what they were doing. But he also knew he was getting too close to Potter, and it started to become suspect.

It's not my problem.

He rested his head back on the pillow.

He doesn't need me.

He almost fell back asleep again when he heard a loud commotion, as if someone had fallen violently on the floor, and then a moan of pain that sounded like Potter's voice. Draco sat on his bed and opened his curtain, only to spot Theodore in the exact same position on his own mattress. The two glanced at each other. Theodore also looked unsure of what to do—should they really put their noses into Potter's problems? But when the noises intensified, both of them simultaneously rose to their feet and rushed to the door.

When Draco opened the door, he had not expected to see what he saw. Blaise pivoted, his private parts visible and partly covered in blood—blood that seemed to belong to Potter. The boy was kneeling behind him, held like a prisoner by Draco's two best friends.

The blonde boy grimaced and pretended to be disgusted, but deep down he was utterly shocked.

"What the hell are you doing?" He asked Blaise, trying his best to look him in the eyes.

"Came to protect your boyfriend?"

Theodore and Draco raised their brows.

"Boyfriend?" Draco chuckled, "Well, that's not my dick dandling in front of Potter's face, right?"

Blaise looked down before swiftly pulling up his boxers.

"I suggest you chill out, Blaise; you're losing your mind." Draco continued, trying his best to ignore Harry, still held on the floor. "Get out now."

"Who are you to give me orders?" Blaise spat.

Draco took a step forward, his gray eyes glued to the tall boy.

"Oh really? Who am I, Blaise?"

Blaise scowled at him but didn't budge.

"Come on, mate, leave Potter alone now. I think he got the message." Theodore added from behind, his hands on his pants' pockets.

"Crabbe, Goyle, release him." Draco ordered. They looked up at Blaise who didn't react, and reluctantly let Harry go. Losing his balance, the boy caught himself with his hands and curled up on the floor, his head down.

Draco gestured for his friends to leave the room. They both complied in silence, allowing the Malfoys' son to redirect his attention towards Blaise.

"Come on, Blaise, let's go." He spoke calmly.

The boy ended up nodding. He cast a last look at Harry, who was still crouched on the wet floor. "You're lucky for this time." He muttered before walking past Draco and Theodore. Theodore threw a look at the two remaining students in the room before leaving them with a sigh.

Draco quickly turned around to check if anyone was still there, and when he saw that it was only him and Potter, he refocused on him.

"Are you okay?"

It was a stupid question to ask. Of course he wasn't.

Harry remained motionless and utterly quiet.

"Sorry about that... They're stupid."

"Get out." Harry whispered.

"What?"

"Get the fuck out of here." He repeated slightly louder.

Draco didn't move.

"Come on, don't be stupid." "You need to get your nose checked anyway."

He went to touch the boy's shoulder, but the latter pushed him away with his arm.

"Get away from me!" Harry barked.

He had started shaking again. Draco caught a brief glimpse of his face; he was completely covered in blood, and his eyes welled with tears as if he tried to hold them back.

"Harry…"

It was the first time he called him by his name.

"Don't think you're better than them," Harry rebuked.

Draco drew back his hand and stood in front of him. What should he do? He was indeed no better than them. Not with Potter, at least.

"Leave me alone." Harry repeated, not louder than a whisper.

Draco nodded and sighingly retreated to the door, where he paused for a second.

He wanted to add something—to advise him to see a healer for his nose or to go talk to his friends as soon as possible—but nothing came out of his mouth. He cast a last look at Harry and gently closed the door behind him as he exited the bathroom, reluctantly leaving the boy alone.