Where Do I Go From Here?

by The Ivory Raven

After a difficult summer, Harry returns to Hogwarts and keeps his homelife a secret. But the new DADA professor leaves him with an even bigger secret to hide. How will he cope, and what does Snape have to do with it all? Warning:abuse, cutting, depression

5. The New Professor

Disclaimer: Darn it! I don't own any of J.K.R's characters. Not a single one. Sigh

Warning: This story contains themes of child abuse, depression, and cutting, even a bad word once in a while. Please don't read if you feel you'll be overly affected by the story's content. Thanks!

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Where Do I Go From Here?

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Chap. 5 The New Professor

As Harry slipped into the Great Hall, all heads turned towards him and the chattering of the students' conversations died off, leaving the softened thud of the heavy door shutting behind him echoing throughout the now silent room. Glancing over the heads of the seated students, he quickly made out Ron and Hermione where they were sitting near the farthest end of the Gryffindor table and he hastily walked in that direction, doing his best to ignore the stares and whispers of the other students as he passed.

He slid into the space between his best friends where they had scooted over to leave him room and he reached for a plate, keeping his head down the entire time in the futile effort of avoiding the questions he knew were on the tips of their tongues. After he served himself from the near-by dishes that were closest, he grabbed up his fork and started eating, taking small bites so that he didn't risk another episode of vomiting, especially in front of his friends.

Hermione, in her ever-observant ways, noticed Harry's reluctance to converse with those around him and was quick to share a look with Ron; and between the two of them, their silent, threatening glares made most of the other students back off, the conversation slowly picking up again as everyone decided it would be wise not to risk the wrath of Gryffindor's newest prefects.

When she was sure that no one was trying to listen in, she leaned closer to Harry's ear and whispered, "Are you alright, Harry? Where were you? When we couldn't find you on the train, we figured that Professor Dumbledore had arranged alternative transportation for you, on account of You-Know-Who and all, but when we didn't see you here either, we thought…"

Hermione trailed off, not sure what to say, as Harry finally brought his gaze up to meet her own, but she merely took a deep breath and continued.

"Well, we weren't sure what to think, but we're glad you're here now. So, why were you late and why weren't you on the train?"

Harry paused with a forkful of food halfway to his mouth to look again at his friend who was now staring at him questioningly. His mind was suddenly working in overdrive as he sought for a plausible answer, but when nothing was forthcoming, he decided that it was just easier to not explain anything at all, sticking with the same story that his friends had concocted on their own as to his apparent absence from the train. After all, if they knew he spent the train ride hiding from them, there would be even more questions. So, as he turned to see that Ron was looking at him as well, he simply stated, "I wasn't on the train. Dumbledore sent someone to pick me up from the Dursleys, and I just now got here."

Ron instantly nodded in acceptance to the explanation, but it appeared that Hermione was going to be more difficult to persuade. Her brow furrowed a tad and she asked, "Really?"

Harry couldn't help the look of annoyance he cast her as he tried to convincingly answer her question. "Of course, Hermione. How else could I have gotten here? It's not like I know how to apparate, you know."

She automatically drew back at his slightly sharp tone and fell silent, and Harry suddenly felt bad for speaking to her in such a manner. He brought his hand to her shoulder, and said, "Look, I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't mean for it to come out that way. I'm just that it's been a long day and-"

But before he could say more, she interrupted him to anxiously ask, "Did something happen on your way here?"

At first, Harry was taken aback, and it took him a second to respond. "What? No, of course not."

"Oh. Well, that's good." She responded slowly, but then a spark lit up her eyes and she excitedly asked, "So then, tell us all about it. How did you get here? Who was sent to pick you up?"

"Ahh," Harry's thoughts raced to come up with a believable reply, "Portkey. Took me straight to the front gate."

Finally, Ron had decided to join into the conversation, and when he spoke, it was around a mouth full of mashed potatoes, "Awesome, Harry. I wish Mum would let me do something like that."

"Eww, Ron!" Hermione twisted her face in disgust at his atrocious table manners and raised her hand as if to block out the sight from her view, "You can't chew and talk at the same time."

Ron quickly swallowed and merely shrugged and smiled at Harry, almost making him inhale a sip of pumpkin juice from the goblet raised to his mouth as he snorted in amusement.

Hermione shook her head at the both of them, and Harry was sure he could hear her mutter the word 'Boys' under her breath as she rolled her eyes in exasperation. Then Ron chimed in again.

"Hey, Harry…who did Dumbledore send to pick you up?"

Hermione instantly jumped in to correct the red-head. "It's Professor Dumbledore, Ron." As this was going on, Harry quickly looked away, throwing his view to the Head table, letting his eyes wander over the staff sitting there as he tried desperately to come up with something. "Um…"

Just then, in the corner behind the Head table in the back of the room, a side door opened up and Professor Snape entered, having finally made his way there from an alternative route that he took, thereby avoiding the stares that Harry had received on his own way in. Before he even realized he was speaking, Harry blurted out, "Snape."

Realizing what he had just said, he turned back to his friends, both of which were now staring at him. Hermione asked, "Professor Snape brought you?"

Harry, seeing no way out of it, nodded his head and Ron's voice exploded out, "What?! They sent that greasy git to get you? Great Merlin, Harry, no wonder you were in a bad mood when you got here."

Hermione admonished Ron, her cheeks going rosy from embarrassment as she now realized all the students sitting around them were now staring at them because of Ron's outburst. "Shush, Ron. You're making a scene."

Ron lowered his voice and whispered conspiratorially into Harry's ear, "If he was the one in charge of getting you here, you're lucky you didn't end up being taken straight to You-Know-Who."

Harry wasn't sure why, but he suddenly felt the need to defend Snape. After all, no matter how poorly the man had always treated him, Snape had saved his life numerous times. "Ron," Harry whispered right back, "He may be a git, but he'd never do something like that! Lay off him already."

"Geez, Harry!" Ron looked mildly appalled. "You know…You're starting to sound just like Hermione."

Harry couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that, and Hermione, who had apparently heard that last comment, was about to lay into Ron, but the Headmaster interrupted Hermione's little speech before it even got started.

Professor Dumbledore had risen from his usual spot at the Head table and was now standing in front of it, his hands raised in an attempt to quiet the students, and once everything fell silent, he smiled genially at everyone as he made his announcement.

"Here at Hogwarts, we believe in preparing our students to the best of our abilities. And during these troubling times, we feel that we have an obligation to ensure that your education remains as varied and as comprehensive as the obstacles you may have to face once you are on your own."

Harry could feel the unease in the room as Dumbledore made the indirect reference to Voldemort, and he proceeded to listen to the remainder of the announcement in rapt attention.

"Therefore, let me introduce your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore swept his arm through the air to direct everyone's gaze to where a man was rising from his chair at the end of the staff table. "This is Professor Stroper. I'm sure you will all join me in welcoming him to Hogwarts."

The announcement ended and there was a brief smattering of applause for the man before he gruffly took his seat again. Dumbledore sat as well, and the dinner dishes vanished shortly after, to be replaced a moment later with the desert trays. As Ron eagerly started grabbing at his favorite treats, Harry looked back to where the strange man was sitting.

The fellow was sitting back in his chair, his arms crossed as if bored with the proceedings, and it suddenly crossed Harry's mind how similar this man was to Professor Snape. He wore dark colored clothing, definitely not new, but not as worn as Remus' had always been; and over his shoulders, a cloak was clasped, hiding much of the man's outfit behind the rough, black fabric. But the hair was the most noticeable similarity. It was just as dark and greasy looking, but Stroper kept his long stringy hair tied back with a thin strip of what appeared to be leather.

His skin, however, was as different as it could be from the sallow looking Potions Professor. It was dark where Snape's was pale, and the man looked as if it had been a few days since he had last shaved, the stubble making his face look old and gritty. It was as he was studying Stroper's dark brown eyes that he noticed the man was staring at him as well, and he hurriedly brought his attention back to his friends.

"It's like I was saying, Hermione," Ron was talking enthusiastically as he scooped up a spoonful of chocolate pudding, "That guy looks familiar."

"There's a reason for that," Hermione calmly explained as if to a child, "He's in the Daily Prophet at least once every couple of weeks or so. Don't you ever read?"

"Of course," came the smug sounding reply. "The sports section. The Chudley Cannons came close to winning their last game."

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed before turning to Harry. "You recognize him, don't you?"

"No." Harry gave her a half grin. "But he looks as if he's related to Snape."

"Professor Snape, Harry. And they're not related…or at least I don't think so." That new train of thought got her slightly distracted as she thought about the possibility, but then she quickly dismissed it and explained.

"His full name is Zane Stroper. He's a mercenary."

Ron interrupted, his statement almost incoherent due to the amount of food in his mouth. "He doesn't look all that religious to me."

Harry coughed loudly to hide the chuckle that erupted when he heard what Ron said, and Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes at the red-head and said, "Honestly, Ron!"

"What?!" Ron voiced his indignant reply and continued to look at her in confusion until she explained.

"Mercenary, Ron. Not missionary. That means he took jobs hunting down others for pay. You know, like rouge vampires and such. He even tracks down and captures the occasional Death Eater every now and then for the reward money."

"Wicked!" Ron looked eagerly up at the man at the Head table as if he were his newest role model.

A few minutes later, the Welcoming Feast had ended, and the three friends left to Gryffindor tower along with the rest of their house.

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Harry slept fitfully that first night back, and if it weren't for the silencing charm he had cast around his bed, he was sure he would have woken up everyone in his dorm room with his cries and violent thrashing. It was near dawn that he fully woke, his eyes large and straining to see in the darkness of the room. He was sweaty and panting, having just had another nightmare over the events of the summer, or more precisely, the beating he got after Vernon found out about him stealing food. Harry shuddered at the memory of it as he slid out of bed and padded over to his trunk.

As silently as he could, he lifted the lid and sifted through the contents within, not stopping until he held the small pocket knife he had recovered from the garbage in the Dursley's kitchen. Walking back to his bed and slipping his legs back under the sheets, he propped his upper half against the headboard and pulled up his left sleeve. He used his wand to lift the glamour charm and he took a few minutes to reverently run his fingertips over the raised edges of the healing cuts that were littered over the underside of his arm from wrist to elbow.

Rubbing across the scabbed over lines with his hand, he then picked a spot for another cut. He brought the knife to his skin, pausing for only a moment before bringing it down in a steady, controlled, swiping motion. He allowed the knife to fall from his grasp and dropped his head down as he lifted his arm. He licked at the blood that welled up over the site as he shut his eyes. With a sigh, he felt as if he could breathe again, as if the world around him wasn't closing in on him, and as if the things Vernon and Petunia had done were something of the past and should, therefore, not be able to affect him.

In the back of his mind, he knew he was fooling himself. He knew memories weren't that easy to forget, but it certainly felt nice to pretend for just a while, at least until the newest cut stopped hurting and he was forced to focus on that deeper emotional pain that seemed to be drowning him no matter how hard he tried to rise above it all.

He slid the closed knife into his pillowcase, recast the glamour charm, and then ended up laying awake for the rest of the morning until his year mates started to rouse, one after another. He waited until the other boys started to get out of bed before following suit, grabbing a change of clothes up on his way to the shower.

Harry had made sure to get the rarely used shower on the end, fearful that the others would somehow see his new scars, despite knowing that the glamour charm was working perfectly well. Most of the other boys avoided this shower because it didn't drain well, always leaving a murky looking puddle in its center. Stepping in, Harry was quick to shower and then be on his way, doing his best to ignore the morose thoughts that sprung up as his hands ran over his bony hips and ribs, detecting his thinness even through the glamour charm.

He left his room shortly after the rest of his dorm mates, following behind them on their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Ron picked up on Harry's quietness, and after several unsuccessful attempts at starting a conversation with the other boy, he settled for merely walking close-by, uncomfortable in the silence and scanning the crowds of gathering students for some sign of Hermione. Ron eventually found her once they reached the Great Hall where he finally saw her sitting in her usual spot with one of her new textbooks opened in front of her.

As the two boys made their way over to sit with her, Harry eyed the book and suddenly panicked. With everything that had happened over the summer, he had completely forgotten to get his schoolbooks for the year. He didn't have much time to dwell on it, however, because Professor McGonagall located the trio shortly afterwards to hand out class schedules and pass along a message.

"Mr. Potter, the Headmaster has asked that you report up to his office before you head off to your first class this morning."

Harry nodded and McGonagall walked away, handing out the small sheets containing the schedules as she walked along. Harry grabbed a blueberry muffin, muttered a quick good-bye to his friends, and started his trek up to Professor Dumbledore's office, sincerely hoping it was just to discuss how he would be obtaining his much needed school supplies. He munched on the warm muffin as he went, but after a few bites, he could eat no more, depositing what was left of it into a nearby wastebasket as he passed.

Dusting the bread crumbs from his fingers, he made his way up a flight of stairs, only to bump into a warm body as he rounded a corner. He would have fallen straight onto his backside if the other person hadn't grabbed him by his right arm, supporting his weight as he regained his balance. Looking up, Harry was startled to see Professor Stroper staring down at him with a peculiar smile on his face.

"Sorry, Sir." Harry was quick to apologize, but when he went to pull his arm from the man's grasp, the hand holding him tightened a tad, just enough to prevent Harry's escape. Nervously looking upward again, he suddenly realized how much taller this man was compared to himself. Stroper's dark brown eyes glinted down at him from above, and the hand gripping his arm loosened, sliding down until it reached Harry's own hand before gripping it in a firm handshake.

"So, I finally meet the Harry Potter." The man's voice was just as gravelly as his appearance, and he paused to look at Harry appraisingly before adding, "I've heard much about you from the other staff. I look forward to seeing you in action in the classroom."

The calculating look the man was giving him was making Harry feel awkward, and he hurriedly gave an excuse so he could leave the man's presence as soon as possible.

"Uh, Professor Dumbledore wants to see me, sir; so, I'd better get going. Nice to meet you." Harry dashed from sight as soon as his hand was released, and he couldn't help the sigh of relief he gave as he headed up the next flight of stairs. He couldn't quite place his finger on it, but something about that man rubbed him decidedly the wrong way. He slowed his pace once he reached the Headmaster's office and he waited a few minutes until his breath regulated before he uttered, "licorice wands". Passing between the stone gargoyles when the section of wall moved to grant him entrance, Harry stepped onto the spiral staircase that led up to the polished cherry door.

He lifted his hand to knock, but as his hand swung forward, the door did too at the same time, and the voice of the Headmaster floated out to where he stood on the uppermost step.

"Come in, Harry. Come in."

Harry walked in, closing the door behind him with a click, and could see Dumbledore seated at his desk, smiling cheerfully in his direction. With a wave of his hand, the old wizard gestured Harry to one of the ornate looking seats positioned opposite his own. Harry sank down into the seat on the right, waving away the dish of candy that Dumbledore had extended to him. With a shrug and a smile, the Headmaster withdrew the offered sweets and plucked one of the yellow colored confections from the top of the dish and plopped it into his mouth.

"Well now, Harry," the old man greeted him around the candy in his cheek, "I guess you're wondering why you're here, hmm?"

Harry nodded his head and replied, "Yes, Sir."

"Actually, I requested your presence because there are a few things that I would like to inquire about…such as to your tardiness to the feast last night."

Dumbledore raised his brow in expectation of an answer, and Harry's eyes grew large as he struggled with what to say. Finally deciding that something close to the truth would be best, he responded with the simple answer of, "I fell asleep on the train."

Dumbledore nodded his head slowly, narrowing his eyes as he did so, as if he knew that Harry was withholding something from him. As much as Harry hated not telling Dumbledore the entire truth, he could not bring himself to even hint at what had occurred over the summer, preferring instead, to pretend it had never happened. Harry held his breath, waiting to see if Dumbledore would take the questioning further, but when the subject was changed a moment later, he allowed himself to relax a little, unclenching his teeth and breathing more normally.

"Yes, well, the main reason I asked you here was to inform you that I've arranged some special tutorage for you this year."

This snapped Harry to attention, and he sat up straighter in his chair. "What kind of 'special tutorage', Sir?"

"Dumbledore smiled brightly and said, "In Defense Against the Dark Arts, of course! It's already been arranged with Professor Stroper for you to attend an extra session with him twice a week, after your other classes of the day. Your first session with be on Thursday, I believe. I only ask that you be discreet in what you share with your D.A. members this year. Some of the spells and techniques he'll be teaching you are not ones that are generally taught in a school."

Harry raised his brow at this, not quite sure what to say. On one hand, he thought it would be great to be able to learn more advanced spells, but on the other hand, just thinking about spending all that extra time with Professor Stroper was beginning to make him feel physically ill. He knew he had only spoken to the man once, but the stares he had gotten both last night and just a short while ago had made him extremely uncomfortable, and he wasn't so sure he wanted the extra lessons that badly.

"You won't have to worry about that, Sir," Harry explained to him, "because I'm not sure I'll be teaching the D.A. again this year, not if I'll be so busy with extra lessons. But about those, Sir, I think I'd rather just skip the lessons and study on my own like I did for the D.A. last year, if you don't mind."

Dumbledore looked a little shocked at this and the surprise was evident in his voice when he spoke. "You don't want extra defense lessons? But why, Harry?"

Harry thought about it for a few minutes, but was unable to come up with anything more than 'because he creeps me out', so he cast about for a different excuse, finally coming up with the pitiful response of, "Quidditch."

Dumbledore's face fell into a look of confusion at first, and then just as rapidly, into one of amusement. "Oh, pish posh, Harry! You'll still have plenty of time for that, I assure you. Besides, everything's already been arranged. In fact, Professor Stroper was quite enthusiastic about the idea. So, don't go skipping any sessions for something as trivial as quidditch, Harry. After all, this is all being done to help prepare you for the next time you have to face Voldemort." Dumbledore fixed Harry with a stern expression and then stood, gesturing for Harry to do the same. "So, now that that's all settled, you'd better be running along to class. You don't want to keep Professor McGonagall waiting on your first day back, do you?"

Downhearted, Harry responded with a weak, "Yes, Sir," and just as he was walking out the office door, he could hear Dumbledore say, "Oh, and by the way, I've taken the liberty of ordering your textbooks from Flourish and Bott's; they should arrive by tomorrow."

Harry muttered out his thanks and then headed off to class, hanging his head the whole way, so absorbed in his melancholic thoughts that he didn't even see the dark figure withdraw from the shadows as he passed.

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A/N: Hello all!! Wow, I got such a good response to the last chapter that it inspired me to write this one faster than I thought possible. I know this chapter is a little shorter than the last one was, but it was the best spot I could think of to stop at.

So, tell me my faithful readers…Would anyone care to guess who it was watching Harry from the shadows? Send a review with your guess, and I'll let you know if you're right. And as an extra reward to anyone who guesses correctly, I'll give them a hint for something that will be in the next chapter.

Lastly, I would like to post the response I sent to one of my readers who voiced their concerns with the story's plotlines and such. I'm posting this in the hopes that it will clear up any misconceptions, or other such doubts, that anyone might have in regards to the story.

Adenoide,

Thank you for your review. I appreciate your honest response. Now to answer some of your concerns...Harry did not seek help for the same reason most abused children don't. Most children have a way of accepting at least part of the abuse they suffer as just being a way of life. When children are brought up a certain way, even if that way is wrong, they accept it as the norm because it's all they know. Also, Harry doesn't want others to know because he doesn't want to seem weak. Like most teenagers, he wants to make sure others keep a certain image of him. Besides, I'm sure you remember what happened in J.K.R.s books if you read them. The last thing Harry would want is for the other students to have yet another reason to be pointing at him and whispering behind his back.

Also, the fact that Harry has money in his Gringotts vault does him little good out in the muggle world. Besides, I'm sure that he would need an adult to be able to access it since he is a minor. Also, he can't run away from the Dursleys because the blood wards there keeps him safe from Voldemort for the summer and Harry feels that it is his responsibility to do all he can to defeat Voldemort some day, and if that means he must stay with his relatives so that he could remain in the blood wards, than I think he would do it. After all, he has to stay safe from Voldemort long enough to learn the skills he needs to defeat him. And Dumbledore didn't rescue Harry because he doesn't know about the abuse...or at least, the full extent of it.

Nobody noticed the abuse when he returned to Hogwarts because he used a glamour charm to hide his bruised and thin appearance. And don't excuse Snape from the picture yet, there is more to him than meets the eye. He is, after all, a spy... a very intelligent one, I must add.

Last of all, I will address your concern about Harry's hand and his school supplies in the following chapter or two. His hand is no longer infected because he treated himself with medicine, but that doesn't mean that it didn't leave a scar or anything. I'll post again within the next week or so. Thank you once again for your review. Please feel free to contact me with any other questions or concerns you may have. Bye for now, and Happy Reading!!

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As always, please take the time to send a review, even if it's just a few words. I love reading everyone's opinion of my writing. It just makes my day when I check my e-mail and find out I've gotten new reviews. Thanks to you all!!