Harry knew that things were going too well shortly after he'd finished his first Defense Against Dark Arts class. First was the fact that Hermione was constantly on his injured side the entire time, and then there was the fact that he managed to get the first few questions asked right without even looking at the text.
Most of the things he'd been asked were basics for avoiding people, escape measures, and even a few body points to aim for when trying to break free of another. The first two sets were things he'd learned fleeing from Dudley's gang, while the third were ones that the officers had told them during a safety lecture in primary school. And yet that still netted him more than a few approving looks from his classmates, twenty points for Ravenclaw, and a worried look from Hermione.
If she had suspicions, she wasn't going to let them fly in front of the entire school, and he hoped that the nervous smile he gave her told her how much he appreciated it. The supportive smile she shot back seemed like it meant that she did, but some dark nagging point told him she was just setting him up for a fall. She wouldn't want to be his friend after finding out how weak and defenseless he was. That she only liked him for being the heroic Boy-Who-Lived, which he would still like to know why he couldn't get a better name than that, and when she found out he was just a scared weakling, she would leave him in the dust.
For some reason, the slightly louder voice that responded to the first reminded him of that alien guy Spock on that show Vernon and Dudley loved. Not that he knew what show it was, since he never saw the title card, nor could he even say who the actor was. But it was the same dry logical voice telling him and the dark voice that reassured him that Hermione hadn't known him as the hero, and the Twins didn't want him as a celebrity. Instead all of them wanted him to be Harry, and to pull pranks.
Further, if they had only wanted the strong hero, why would Fred have told him he'd keep his secret. Even from his own twin brother. That spoke of a caring for him on a personal level, not as some grand heroic figure. Maybe they would understand, maybe they could help him out, maybe he could prove to himself that he's not a worthless freak like his relatives always called him. Maybe they could even become his family.
That thought struck him, just as he sat down at the lunch table. Family was something others had, something warm and special that he'd only heard of, and seen, that his classmates had. For now, he just wanted friends, but if he could have friends in this world, why couldn't he build a family?
"A chicken sandwich on wheat toast, dry please... and water please..." Harry asked what he assumed were the House Elves serving their table, and only a heartbeat later, his sandwich appeared in front of him, still warm and inviting him to take a bite. Following the invitation, he bit down into the sandwich and smiled as he realized that the House Elves were making sure he had his vegetables too, as they added lettuce and tomato to the sandwich. He should be alright with the acid in the tomatoes, after all the toast and chicken should absorb most of it.
He knew the other Rebels were watching him closely, but for some reason it felt good to know they cared. However, there was something else that he felt watching him. Something far more malevolent than his friends ever could manage. Looking up, he swept his gaze along all the tables, until he finally caught sight of the teacher's tables. A greasy black haired man was staring at him coldly through slight eyes, he barely heard "That's Snape, he teaches potions..." from one of the twins before a sharp stabbing pain tore into his forehead, right where his scar was.
Breaking eye contact with Snape, he looked back to his plate, slipping his hand to his forehead to rub the lingering pain away from the scar. That was new, as far as he could remember, he had never felt anything like that before. He thought about going to see the nurse, but wrote it off as nerves acting up again. But somewhere inside him that didn't feel right. Maybe after he talked to the others tonight, he could talk to them about the pain and they'd know something.
"Harry... are you alright?" Hermione asked from beside him quietly, causing a small smile to spread on his face. She did care, the logical voice from earlier stated, now be a good lad and answer her.
"Y...yeah... I'll be fine... just..." Harry started before he realized how much that sounded like a bad attempt at lying. "Can we talk about it later? I think it would be better if we were alone for this..."
"Sure Harry, we'll talk later..." Hermione assured him, patting him lightly on the shoulder. He could feel her pointed stare at the twins to say something, anything, to help diffuse the situation.
"Say mate, would you mind helping us out?" Fred asked curiously, while passing over what looked curiously like wooden coin. "Would you rub this four times, while thinking the words 'Mischief Makers Mark Made' during your next class?"
Harry took the coin and looked it over curiously before pocketing. "Sure... but what..."
"Shh!" George hissed while Fred covered his reaching across the table to look like he was reaching for the butter between Harry and Hermione. "Good afternoon Headmaster, how are you?"
"I am well Mister Weasley..." Dumbledore answered with a kindly smile, before looking at the four Rebels. "It looks like you are adjusting well to life here, Miss Granger, Mister Potter. Is there anything that I can do to help you?"
"No, thank you, Headmaster," Hermione answered with a bright smile, and Harry just shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. "Is there something we can do for you sir?"
"Oh no, no, I just like to check up with our Muggle raised students now and then," the wizened old man answered while stroking his chin. "See how they're managing, offer any advice and comfort I may have. If you have any problems, just let Professor Flitwick know, and if he cannot help you, I will always have a chair ready, and some lovely lemon drops. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley are more than familiar with the way."
Harry would have to be even blinder than he already was, to miss the way the twins both colored at that comment. Harry would have to be a complete and utter idiot to not know what for, but yet his mind couldn't help but think about the map. "Thank you Headmaster..."
Albus smiled warmly at Harry and Hermione before walking off, stopping to talk to students at seemingly random. The Rebels watched him for a couple before they returned to eating. Harry thought about the coin in his pocket and wondered briefly just what it could do. Maybe it would paint the entire Slytherin house a bright pink, or give Gryffindor giant yellow strips down their spine with black letters proclaiming 'Gryffindor Chicken: Try our Breasts!'. Or maybe it'll just dump glue on a class, and rain feathers down on the poor students caught under the trap.
The possibilities were nearly endless with that little disk of wood in his pocket, and he could feel something strange building up in his chest. It was like dread, but instead of not wanting it to happen, he was eager for it. Could.... Could this be something that he wanted? Yes, it felt like when he saw those families playing and laughing, that he wanted to be with them in that type of setting instead of the outside. But.... this felt like he could actually get what he wanted.
While he was thinking about the wonderful new sensation he was feeling, his lunch disappeared into his mouth one bite at a time. He finished first, but the others weren't far behind. He knew that his stomach wouldn't hold much more, but it was still better than he had been doing. At this rate, he figured he'd be able to eat a full decent sized meal by the Halloween in little more than two months, and if he was lucky, he could actually join in with any type of Christmas Feasting the school might have. If he was exceptionally lucky, he might be able to gain some muscles and fat before going back home in the summer.
Maybe having something between his bones and Dudley's fists, and other things, would make it less painful. He might actually be able to stand being trapped with the Dursleys for the summer months, if it meant that he could come back here to his friends.
After lunch, there was a quick walk back to the Ravenclaw tower, where they swapped out for their afternoon classes. Much to his amazement, he was done before Hermione or the twins, and spent the time waiting for them looking at the books on the shelves. One of them caught his attention in particular. 'Survival Guide for Magic Users' by Rowena Ravenclaw.
He'd pulled it off the shelf and began reading the forward when something caught his eyes. 'A witch or a wizard can survive off their magical reserves in cases of starvation or dehydration for up to three days before the body begins to cannibalize other body parts. This should only be used as a final resort measure, as the effects of starvation and dehydration are negated, the body is not able to process the nutrients that they would have gained otherwise. A curious side note is that their magical reserves will be increased due to the constant drain on it.'
That would explain so much, like how he was even still alive after that week where Uncle Vernon had locked him in the cupboard under the stairs with only a slice of bread to eat, and no water. Hearing footsteps, he slipped the book back onto the shelf and continued looking at the others, wondering if there was a process to check out books from the shelves like at the library.
As Hermione entered the area, he smiled and waved, she looked curious about something, as though there was a great thought weighing on her mind. His smile faltered as she looked at the twins as they emerged from the stairs. It however was replaced by a laugh as she asked something he'd never considered. "Has your brother Ronald ever been checked for a tapeworm?"
"What's a tape worm?" Fred asked in clear and honest confusion, before turning to look at his twin.
"It might be one of those Muggle bondage thingies... but I don't think Ronnikins is into that..." George answered while scratching the back of his head. It was about this point that Harry realized that he might want to smuggle a Muggle dictionary in. It would be so much easier than trying to explain things like this.
While Hermione explained what exactly a tapeworm is, Harry watched the twin's faces turn a lovely shade of Slytherin green. Towards the end of her lecture, Hermione paused and blushed. "Oh... I forgot, it decreases the appetite... not increases... sorry."
"I think that we have just..." Fred started, before swallowing something down, and retaining the green hue.
"Become vegetarians... thank you Hermione..." George continued, looking only marginally better than his twin. "But it's nice of you to worry about Ron... we should get him checked for... other things with how he eats..."
Harry's mirth faded before Hermione's as he thought about it, he never had much of an appetite, and they did say that the worms caused abdominal pains, which he's suffered before. Could he have a tapeworm? Did the medical world even have a means of fighting them? What if it was fatal? Would his relatives win even with him so far away from them?
"Harry? What's wrong?" Hermione asked, suddenly at his side as he slumped down along the wall, turning ghost white as worries flooded his mind.
"I.... I..." Harry started while fighting back some of the panic he was feeling gripping his heart in its icy grip. "I ha... have a d...decreased... appetite..."
The trio of people he considered friends, looked at each other and with a single nod picked him up and carried him over to the couch, where they forced him to lay down. Hermione was next to his head, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "Harry? Listen to me... I don't think you have tapeworms, and there's a way to prove it. Have you ever had undercooked beef, pork or fish?"
Harry's mind began to focus as he stared into her warm brown eyes. She'd asked him a question, beef, pork, and fish. Had he ever had any of it that was undercooked? Thinking back, he couldn't remember a single meal which wasn't burnt, cooked by him, or purposely missing meat all together. And so he finally started breathing normally again, the pain in his side lessening at the same time. "N... No... I don't think so..."
"Then it's my non-existent medical opinion that you're fine, but you should get checked out by Nurse Pomfrey sometime," Hermione stated confidently, though worry was still evident in her eyes. "I think you might have been having a panic attack Harry..."
Harry took a deep breath to stabilize his mind, it was nice that Hermione was worried, but he couldn't let anyone in authority know about the Dursley's. They would take him away and dump him in an orphanage that was worse then the Dursley's ever could manage. He was already risking a lot by telling the other Rebels, but he thought that he could trust them with this secret.
"Th...thank you Hermione, I'm fine now..." Harry answered, as he was allowed to sit up. "We should get to class... don't want to be late on the first day..."
Harry missed, but could feel the looks of concern and worry the others were shooting each other, but he had to keep going like everything was fine. He didn't want to lose what little he had. He just couldn't risk it.
Charms went about as well as DADA had, in that Hermione got Ravenclaw a lot of points for being the first to get the 'Wingardium Leviosa' spell working right, and then he got it shortly after with only a little coaching from Hermione. Apparently he was slipping a little on the second syllable in 'Leviosa' but she was helpful in fixing it.
After that feat of magic, the entire class continued levitating feathers, until Harry accidentally knocked his into Terry Boot's who took it as a challenge, and a game of bumper feathers ensued. The room was filled with feathers flitting around over their heads, bumping into each other completely at random. Even Professor Flitwick got into the act.
With all this going on, it was a miracle that Harry remembered to activate the wooden coin in his pocket. But he felt the magic released from it, and wondered what happened.
Their homework was to write a twenty inch essay on the uses of 'Wingardium Leviosa' in every day life. So far the homework didn't seem too bad, though he wished that Defense Against Dark Arts would have assigned something. That seemed like the class he'd need the most, but he figured that if nothing else, he could use the other classes to cover some of the gaps.
He parted with Hermione, heading for the Great Hall instead of Ravenclaw Tower. For some reason it was oddly devoid of life, in fact, the only other person that Harry could see was Dumbledore standing at the base of the stairwell, smiling up at him with a twinkle in his eye.
"Ah, Mr. Potter, might I have a moment of your time?" the grandfatherly headmaster asked when Harry got down to the ground level.
"Err... yes sir, but I'm waiting for Fred..." Harry answered nervously, as he kept a respectful distance away from Dumbledore. For some reason he didn't feel comfortable around him.
"That's fine Mr. Potter..." Albus answered while indicating a more secluded area off the main area. "I just wish to ask you some questions, a few of your teachers have noticed your dietary habits are rather... lacking... is everything alright?"
"Oh, umm... it's just nerves I think..." Harry answered nervously while fidgeting with his bag's shoulder strap, and looking down at the ground. "I'm sure that once I've settled a bit more, I'll be fine sir..."
"I see... well... I should mention I saw you rubbing your scar, is it bothering you?" Dumbledore asked, his voice sounding not fully convinced to Harry's ears. "If you like, I'm sure that Madam Pomfrey would be willing to take a look at it..."
"No... there's no need to trouble her sir... I think I might have bumped it with a brush earlier today... I wasn't used to some of them..." Harry lied with a nervous smile, his grip on his shoulder strap going iron tight as he felt the panic welling up in his chest, more horrors of orphanages flashing through his mind.
"Hmm... Is that so?" Dumbledore answered back, staring at Harry's hand curiously. "The reason I ask is that your scar is an unusual case, as usually the curse used would not have left so much as a mark on you. It could serve as a warning against evil intents against you if it hurt..."
"Oh... well... I.... I did feel it start hurting when I saw Professor Snape staring at me..." Harry admitted quietly while looking down at the ground. "I'm not sure if it was him or something else sir..."
"Well now, that is a different tale Mr. Potter... I highly doubt it was Severus, but I will investigate the matter for anything untoward." Albus stated while stroking his beard in thought. After a moment he reached out and patted Harry on the shoulder reassuringly, making a mental note of the boy's flinching, but choosing not to comment. "We do not want any risks to our students because of failure on my part. Thank you for your time my boy, if you have any more pains, just let Professor Flitwick or myself know, and we can discuss it. Now, I believe Mr. Weasley has arrived..."
Sure enough, when Harry looked, Fred was beaming at him, though there was a little worry crinkling the corners of his eyes. Harry bowed respectfully to Dumbledore, before slipping away and walking over towards Fred. "Did it work?" he asked softly, hoping that his voice wouldn't carry back to Dumbledore. He didn't have too much to worry about, as the headmaster had left the great hall before Harry even got near Fred.
"Yeah mate, it worked beautifully, one of our better pranks. Not nearly as good as last night, but the entire hallway before the Slytherin dorms is now coated with sticking charms, and trapped Slytherin," Fred proclaimed proudly, while also keeping his voice down. "Come on now, let's go... they should be waiting for us."
Harry nodded, and followed Fred as he was lead on a wondering and complex path, until they arrived at a portrait of the Forbidden Forest, which at Fred's touch swung open to reveal a ladder leading upwards. And at the end of that, was a room holding George and Hermione, waiting for them.
Harry swallowed the panic and fear, knowing that they meant him no harm. He'd have to tell them, but he didn't have the foggiest how to start. "Umm... I... I know I called this meeting... and.... I want you to listen to me fully before saying anything, okay?"
To Harry's relief, they nodded quietly, waiting for him to take the initiative. He took a stabilizing breath, before undoing his robes. "There are many beliefs about the Wizarding World, and one that I was raised in was not... favorable..." Harry started, quietly, while loosening his tie. "It started shortly after I was delivered to my Uncle's house, I guess they had to be my only living relatives or something and that they'd raise me with love and care."
"That couldn't have been farther from the truth... I... was in fact starved and beaten for most of my life..." Harry continued, his voice going quieter as he went on. "I... I learned to survive on little more than burnt waste and scraps, if that... I lived in a cupboard usually used for luggage, until I got my letter for Hogwarts, and then I was moved into the smallest bedroom, what had once been Dudley's toy room."
"You..." Harry tried to continue, even as his voice faltered and quaked with fear. "You noticed I was pained on my side earlier today... that... is from a going away present from my cousin..." After that he lifted up his shirt and revealed the bruised area over his ribs. He heard five distinct voices gasping in surprise at that, causing him to look around in a panic, as fear and terror clenched his heart and lungs. "Who... who else is here?"
"I'm sorry Harry..." Hermione answered with tears in her eyes as Dumbledore and maroon and white dressed woman with curly hair appeared in the corner of the room. He could only guess that it was the Madam Pomfrey that everyone had been talking about, especially as she walked over and began looking over the bruise area with a trained eye.
"We knew that something was wrong Mr. Potter, and they were worried about you..." Dumbledore supplied while Madam Pomfrey helped Harry to sit on the floor. "We convinced them to use the old Dueling Club room... and hid because we knew you wouldn't talk to us directly. It was my fault Harry, I hope you can see it to not hold my choice against your friends..."
"Albus..." the nurse spoke up quietly, with a scared tone to her voice. "He's severely malnourished... and there are marks of... other abuses..."
"I see... Mr. Potter, I'm sorry to say... we have to report this to the proper authorities..." the headmaster stated with sad downcast eyes. "Harry? Are you alright?"
All eyes turned to focus on Harry, who had started gasping and wheezing as panic seized his heart and lungs. The last thing he could see was Madam Pomfrey laying him down, before darkness claimed him.