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

6. Suspicions Arise

Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine. Not a single one…except for Stroper!

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. 6 Suspicions Arise

Severus Snape stepped silently out from the darkened hallway, his narrowed eyes watching the path of Gryffindor's Golden Boy, Harry Potter, as the boy shuffled past him and around the next corner. He just knew something was going on with the little brat, and he was determined to find out exactly what. And with that thought in mind, Snape walked in the direction the from which the child had just come, passing through the still open passageway to climb the spiral stairs, earning a disgruntled rumble of complaints from the stone gargoyles that served as guardians to the Headmaster's office.

Before even reaching the uppermost step, Snape heard the old man call to him from within the closed room, "I've been expecting you, Severus."

Snape, no longer surprised with this particular parlor trick of Dumbledore's, gave his head a shake, both amused and exasperated at the same time. He then entered, seating himself in the same chair that Harry had occupied just minutes before as he waited for the old Headmaster to turn from where he was standing petting Fawkes, his phoenix.

The red and gold plumaged bird trilled in contentment as Dumbledore stroked his wizened hand over its crest, the feathers ruffling from the contact. A moment later, the old wizard returned to his desk, seating himself and looking inquiringly over at the black-clad man before him. Taking in the other man's dour expression, Dumbledore was the first to break the silence.

"What seems to be troubling you, Severus? It's only the first day of school; surely, the Gryffindors have not gotten on your bad side already this early in the semester?"

"Albus, you know as well as I that no Gryffindor has ever not been on my bad side."

Dumbledore chuckled at Snape's dry humor before asking, "Well then, Severus, what is it I can do for you this fine morning?"

"Potter."

Snape's clipped answer seemed to stop the Headmaster's amusement faster than anything else might, and Dumbledore drew his brow down in concern as he inquired, "I am to assume that this is in reference to Harry's late arrival to the Welcoming Feast last night?"

Snape gave a quick, solemn nod of his head before clarifying, "I observed Mister Potter from the time he exited the carriage, to the time I left him at the doors to the Great Hall, and I saw something that I believe needs to be brought to your attention."

Dumbledore gave a grave nod of his head and asked, "I take it that you noticed it too then?"

With just a bit of impatience in his voice, Snape answered, "Of course, I noticed. That glamour charm he's wearing is as obvious a one as I've ever seen."

"Yes," Dumbledore slumped back in his chair, "I noticed it as well. What do you think he is trying to hide?"

"Humph," Snape's face took on a look of disgust, "knowing Potter, it's probably nothing more than some vain attempt at disguising some normal teenage condition. The boy's likely just trying to hide a pimple or some other such nonsense."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at the man sitting opposite him in a look that portrayed his gentle patience, and he stated more than he asked, "But you don't believe that's all it is, do you."

The Potions Master's face fell into a stony look of concentration as he replied, "No, indeed, I don't."

Silence reigned for several minutes as both men were lost in their thoughts, but then, with a deep, weary sigh, Dumbledore directed, "Do help me keep an eye on him, then. Let me know if you discover any more pieces to this puzzle."

Snape rose from his seated position, gave a nod of understanding, and then was gone from the room in a whirl of billowing robes.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Harry trudged through his classes that morning. Although Ron had sat by him all that day and shared his textbooks with him, Harry was unable to muster the energy to pay even the slightest bit of attention. Ron couldn't help but notice how distracted his friend was, but try as he might, he was unable to snap Harry out of the somber mood he seemed to be stuck in.

As they made their way out of the greenhouse after Herbology class, Ron left Harry's side to meet up with Hermione when he spotted her standing just outside the side entrance into the castle. Having just gotten out of Arithmacy, Hermione was juggling the thick texts she carried, trying to jostle them to sit more comfortably in her arms as she waited for Ron.

They had planned ahead of time to meet at that spot so that they could all walk together on their way to lunch, but as Ron jogged over to where Hermione stood, he glanced back and noticed that Harry hadn't even realized he had left his side. The raven haired teen still had his head down, walking in silence and paying no attention whatsoever to the bustle of the other students walking past him.

So, with a sigh, Ron pulled Hermione to the side, out of the main path of most of the walking students, and started a hurried whisper of words into her ear, telling her all about how odd Harry had been acting all morning. Meanwhile, Harry continued walking with his head down, straying from the main path and occasionally kicking at a loose stone or two whenever he saw one.

Ron shared a concerned look with Hermione before he bolted down the steps and pulled Harry on the arm. Trying to mask the concern in his voice, he smiled and said, "Come on, Harry. If we don't hurry, we won't have time for lunch."

Harry made eye contact with Ron, gave a half-hearted smile in return and answered, "You know, Ron, I'm not feeling all that hungry." Harry caught Hermione watching them from over Ron's shoulder and he added, "Why don't you and Hermione go on without me."

Ron was unable to hide the hurt look on his face, but after several more attempts at getting Harry to join them, they were forced to go on reluctantly without him. Harry stood at the bottom of the steps as he watched them finally go, and he breathed out a sigh of relief. All morning, all he could think of was how Dumbledore had arranged those extra classes for him. And although he knew he should be pleased to be given such an opportunity, he wasn't looking forward to having to spend so much time with that creepy new Defense teacher, and he resented the fact that, once again, the adults in his life were making him do things he really didn't want to do.

Walking toward the lake, he stopped under the shade of one of the trees, distantly recognizing it as the one he had seen in Snape's pensieve last year. It was the same tree that the Marauders had always favored, and he ran his hand over the rough bark, delighting in the scraping sensation the action caused, using the slight hurt to ward off the tears that had started to form in his eyes.

The sky was cloudy, and there was a light breeze that rustled the leaves above him as Harry stretched out in the grass, intent on relaxing some of the stress out of his muscles, reveling with the sense of peace he had out there on his own. Ron had been bugging him all day, and he was happy to be able to escape, even if he had to miss lunch to do it. For as lonely as Harry had felt during the summer, he had discovered that being around everyone again did nothing to dispel this feeling, and by mid-morning, he felt as if he was going to jump out of his own skin in his anxiety. He had wanted nothing more than to be left to his own thoughts, but everywhere he went there was someone trying to get his attention. If it weren't the teachers themselves, than it was Ron or one of his other classmates. Why? Harry wondered. Why can't they all just leave me be?

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The chattering of the students was really beginning to get on Severus' nerves. He typically never attends lunch in the Great Hall, but taking Dumbledore's directive seriously, he planned on watching Potter's every move, and if he had to suffer through the noise and clatter of a bunch of children stuffing their faces, than so be it. The only problem was that he could see neither hide nor hair of the insufferable brat anywhere. Oh, he spotted the other two thirds of the Gryffindor trio as they hunched together, carrying on a heated discussion and occasionally scanning the main entrance to the room, but Potter was nowhere to be seen. And nothing ticked Snape off more than wasting his time and having nothing to show for it. So, it was with a fit of irritation that he stormed out of the Great Hall at the end of lunch, students hurrying to clear out of his path as he stormed down the halls, back to the darkness of the Dungeons.

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Harry woke to the sound of thunder in the distance, and he rubbed his eyes with one hand as he pushed himself up to a sitting position with the other. Blearily, he looked around, confused at first as to where he was. Suddenly, he remembered how relaxed he was feeling as he laid under the shade of the tree at lunch time and how he had only intended to close his eyes for a few moments, but apparently, he had fallen asleep.

It was just starting to get dark out, but whether it was due to the time of day or the oncoming storm, Harry wasn't sure. He groped in the grass for a second or two, finally locating his glasses and putting them on his face, and instantly brought the world into focus again. Casting a tempus charm, Harry was surprised to find out that it was, indeed, starting to get late. In fact, Harry had missed his afternoon classes, and was currently missing supper.

At the thought of food, Harry's tummy gave an angry rumble and he picked himself up from the grass, hoping that eating a little for supper would help settle his rolling insides. He stiffly stood and started making his way up to the castle, flexing his limbs as he walked in an effort of working some of the soreness out of them. Finally getting inside, he paused just inside the Main Entrance Hall. The thought had suddenly occurred to him that his friends would have so many questions as to his whereabouts after lunch that he would be lucky to get even one bite of food. So, with a deep breath, he turned on his heel and took off in the direction of the kitchen, knowing he could count on Dobby to give him anything he might ask for.

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Ron and Hermione were again in deep discussion with one another over the same subject that had been on their minds the entire day…Harry. It was supper time and he wasn't there. In fact, the last they had seen of him was just before lunchtime; he hadn't even shown up for his afternoon classes, and they were quietly arguing with one another over what they should do about it.

"No, Ron! We have to tell someone. Something is wrong, I just know it!"

"I know, Hermione. But you know how Harry is. If we tell McGonagall, than she'll tell Dumbledore, and Harry will be so mad at us that he'll stop speaking to us at all."

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron." Hermione was so flustered, that she completely forgot to correct Ron's disuse of their teachers' proper titles. "We have to do something and, besides, he's hardly talking to us as it is, so what difference will it make? It's not as if no one else has noticed it."

Ron looked up at the staff table, and sure enough, Professor McGonagall was leaned closer to Dumbledore from where she sat to his right, both of them discussing something in hushed voices, occasionally looking over to the empty seat on the bench that Ron and Hermione had saved for Harry.

With a shake of his head, Ron again pleaded with her. "Please, Hermione! Just wait one more day. Let's see if he'll talk to us tonight. You never know, he may tell us what's wrong."

Hermione looked at him doubtfully at that comment, but, un-wavered, he continued, "Just give him until tomorrow, then I'll go to McGonagall myself, I promise."

Hermione pursed her lips in frustration, but finally gave in. "Oh, alright, Ron. But remember…you promised, and I'm going to hold you to that."

Ron nodded his consent and they both turned back to their meals, eating in silence as the adults at the staff table held their own discussion.

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Harry was only in the kitchen for as long as it took Dobby to bring him something to eat. Although Harry had only asked for a sandwich, the Hogwarts elves had seen fit to bring him, not only a sandwich, but a variety of fruit, a section of roast, buttered rolls, and even a large bowl filled with tapioca pudding. Harry turned up his nose when he saw the pudding, having never been partial to it, but he had been tempted enough by the delicious scents wafting his way from the platters full of food, that he ended up taking, not only his sandwich, but a buttered roll and an apple with him as he left.

He walked silently through the halls, winding his way past statues and up and down flights of stairs, and even through one of the secret passages that he knew about, until he had safely bypassed all areas of the castle that he thought might have students in them. It wasn't unusual for students to be leaving the Great Hall so early in the evening, having eaten their supper and choosing not to stay and chat with friends like most did. It was mainly the Ravenclaws who chose to retire to their rooms early as to allow extra study time in the evenings, but Harry wasn't taking any chances of meeting one of his house mates in one of the corridors.

Sticking his head from around a suit of armor before sneaking out from behind it, Harry had almost made it back outside to eat under the stars by what he was now considering 'his' tree, when a hand grasped onto the fabric that hung loosely over his bony shoulders, surprising him so badly that he dropped his meager supper, most of it staying where it landed, but the apple rolling across the floor and out of sight as it toppled down the steps leading into the dungeon.

"And pray tell, Potter, where it is you think you're going?"

Harry's eyes grew large when he heard the tone of voice his Potions professor was using, and any words he had been planning to use in his defense fled his mind, leaving him standing there working his mouth as he struggled to come up with something to say. He slowly turned around when the grasp on his robes had loosened, and his brain struggled to remember if Potions was one of the classes he had missed that day, for that might explain the contempt in Snape's voice.

However, the explanation for the man's anger came when he leaned closer to Harry's face and asked in a low timber of voice, "Do you not remember the detention you were assigned yesterday evening, or is it just that you see yourself as being too good as to have to bend to the rules of authority?"

Harry wasn't sure how to respond, but knowing that Snape would find fault with whatever he said regardless, he chose to bow his head and remain quiet. After all, that was what seemed to work best with Uncle Vernon when he got mad.

When Snape saw that no answer was forthcoming, he gave Harry's robes a hard shake in his annoyance and sneered down at the teen. "What…Are you suddenly above having to answer to your superiors? Well, Boy!"

Harry flinched at the term the man used, the shouted word too closely mimicking the tone Uncle Vernon used when he was angry. Snape watched the as boy clamped his eyes shut and jerked his head away, but still being held at bay by Snape's hold on the back of his robes, Harry only seceded in hurting his neck as his collar dug roughly into it. It took the teen a moment or two to remember where he was and he took several steadying breaths to calm his now racing heart, slowly opening his eyes as if worried about what he would find when he did.

It was only from experience that Snape was able to keep his expression neutral, but inside, his mind was racing with possibility after possibility of what would cause the teen to react like that, none of them being favorable. Deciding to rely on his vast experience as a spy, he reasoned that the best course of action would be to just keep an eye on the boy as the Headmaster had suggested, and perhaps the answer would make itself known in time.

Snape released Harry's robes, almost sending the boy reeling to the ground when his center of balance was so rapidly changed. Calming some almost instantly, Harry straightened his posture, running his hands over the front of his robes as if to smooth the wrinkles out, but Snape could tell by the slight tremors in those hands that the action was done merely as a nervous gesture, something to focus on in order to distance one's self from a situation.

Giving the boy a few moments to collect himself, Snape cleared his throat, effectively drawing the young Gryffindor's gaze upward, where their eyes meet for a mere moment before the gaze was dropped again and Snape was once more staring at the top of Harry's head, the dark fringe of unruly hair poking out in all directions…Just like his father's, Snape thought. And that one notion let his resolve harden back to its previous state.

"It is ten past eight, Mister Potter." His voice started out low, gradually increasing in volume as he continued to speak. "You are already ten minutes late for your detention. And you have exactly three seconds to get moving before I make it a week's worth instead!"

Harry jumped at the harsh command, and he shot off like a bullet in the direction of the dungeons, completely forgetting about his supper that lay abandoned where they had fallen at Snape's feet.

It was with satisfaction that Severus watched that boy go tearing down to the Potions classroom. And he had taken but a step when the items on the floor caught his attention. Stooping to pick the objects up, he was surprised to find that what he had assumed was a bundle of cloth, was actually a paltry looking sandwich and a flattened looking roll all wrapped up in one of the white cloth napkins usually used by the staff during meals in the Great Hall.

Wrapping the cloth back around the items, he slid the entire bundle into one of the voluminous pockets of his robe and started along the same path Harry had taken moments before, but at the base of the stairs, almost completely hidden behind a statue of Dagny the Defiant, he saw an apple. Picking that up at well, he rubbed off the dirt that had collected on its surface, and dropped it into his other pocket.

Snape's walk through the lower floors of the castle were quick due to his long stride and brisk nature, and he was soon standing at the door of the Potions room, but there was no sign of Harry Potter anywhere within the corridor. Fuming with renewed rage, Snape threw open the door to the classroom with such force that it banged loudly against the wall, causing it to bounce back, partially closing it behind the man as he stepped into the room.

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After leaving Snape's side, Harry ran the entire way to the Potions classroom. He was panting so hard when he got there, that he had to take a few moments to catch his breath. Expecting Snape to appear at any moment, Harry decided it would be best to go ahead and get started on his detention, thinking that it would be best not to risk his wrath anymore tonight than he already had.

Pushing open the door to the classroom, he made his way in, stopping halfway up the isle to return to the door. After insuring that the door was properly shut, he looked around for something to do and immediately spotted the pile of dirty cauldrons sitting in the back corner of the classroom behind the last row of desks. Rolling up the sleeves of his robe, he got busy washing the heavy, pewter cauldrons in the nearby sink.

He had only been at his task for a matter of a few minutes when the door banged open, flying back with such force that Harry was sure that he would have been knocked unconscious had he been standing just a few feet closer, the doorway being right next to where the sink was located. But instead, the door hit the wall and bounced back, almost shutting itself in the process.

What the door was doing, however, was soon lost on Harry as he stood in fear of what the opened door had let through. There stood Severus Snape, in a towering rage, with a look in his eyes that Harry recognized well. In his mixed state of shock and fear, Harry's fingers went lax, the wet, soapy cauldron slipping out of his grasp to fall with a loud clatter to the stone floor below.

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Snape was standing mid-way down the isle that separated the desks from the potion workstations when he heard a horribly loud, clattering noise echoing through the room. He threw his gaze behind his with such force that his robes swayed around his body, but then his anger slowly faded as he took in what he was seeing.

Harry Potter was standing in the back of the classroom, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and soap suds dripping down the length of his bare arms to land in foamy drips about his feet, the dropped caldron still rocking back and forth on its rounded side. The child was staring at him with wide, fearful eyes, unable to look away or move out of fright.

Making a conscience effort to school his features to something less threatening, he directed him, "Carry on, Potter. I want that whole stack to be spotless before you leave."

That apparently broke the spell the boy seemed to be under, and he hurriedly snatched up the fallen cauldron, dashing to the sink and continuing his work as if nothing had happened.

Snape, on the other hand, had started having suspicions about the weird behavior, and he routinely passed by the sink under the guise of placing ingredients on the nearby shelf, watching the boy out of the corner of his eye as he did so. It wasn't until he was on his twelfth pass by the sink, near the end of the detention, that he noticed Harry's hands, or more precisely, his left hand.

The boy seemed oblivious to Snape's observations, and the man stopped to pretend to inspect the cleanliness of the finished cauldrons so he could get a closer look at the hand. Yes, just as he thought he'd seen…a scar running across the palm of the hand from the base of his pinky to the bottom-most joint of his thumb. The scar was just slightly raised, indicating that the injury was neither very deep, nor sloppy; it must have been caused by something sharp then. And its color…the light pink of the scar indicated that it was relatively new, so this was no quidditch injury or the like. No, this happened sometime during the summer, Snape was almost positive of it.

He supposed it was just luck that Potter had not known that glamour charms stopped at the user's wrists, designed that way so that the magic of the charm would not interfere with any spells that the user might want to cast. Yes, the boy's usual lack of studious habits worked in Snape's favor this time, and he smirked to himself as he looked one last time at the old injury.

Filing this bit of new information into the back of his head, he had just about decided to tell the boy to go for the evening, but then he remembered the food he had recovered from the floor earlier, and his interest was piqued once more. He had been in the Great Hall during supper, and he had noticed the teen's absence just as well as Minerva and Albus had. He had even shared a dark look with his old friend that confirmed it. He knew that Potter had skipped eating supper with his peers yet again.

Walking back to his desk, he purposely spoke in a tone just loud enough that it insured that Harry could hear it clearly. He called one of the Hogwarts elves and then instructed it on what to do.

"Bring a sandwich, and a bowl of assorted fruit. I want a pitcher of pumpkin juice as well, as swiftly as possible."

The small elf wrung the towel she wore with the Hogwarts crest on it in her small hands. "Does Master Snape, sir, want cups, too?"

Snape narrowed his eyes at the creature as if to say 'isn't it obvious?' and the little, grey creature popped out of view, only to pop back in under a minute with the requested items.

Harry had just dried off his hands and was walking up the aisle to ask if he could leave for the night when he spotted the food. His stomach rumbled in hunger, and he bit his lip as it that would make the rumbling noises stop. When he got within a few steps of Snape's desk, the man released an exaggerated sigh and said as if talking to himself, "Those blasted elves! They can't even make a sandwich right."

He made a show of pushing the untouched sandwich away from himself, the platter on which it rested stopping within inches of the side of the desk closest to Harry. Snape then looked through the bowl of fruit, plucking out a handful of grapes. Noticing the teen now watching him, Snape poured himself a cup of pumpkin juice, tasted it and wrinkled his nose somewhat at it.

"Much too sweet for my tastes." He then looked up, made eye contact with the youth standing close-by and ordered him, "Potter, do you know where the kitchens are?"

When Harry responded with a hesitant nod, Snape continued, "Good. You may leave for the evening, but I want you to take these things back to the kitchens and tell those elves to find someone else to give them to. That is all for tonight."

Taking the dismissal for what it was, Harry set the sandwich into the bowl, placing its platter underneath the bowl. After balancing the items in his left hand, he grabbed up the pitcher of juice with his other hand, preparing to leave the room.

"Potter."

He turned back to face Snape, but the man merely placed the one remaining empty cup in the bowl next to the sandwich and said, "Be on your way."

Harry finally got to leave after that and he didn't stop walking until he had climbed two sets of stairs and had rounded several corners; then, after slipping into a little-used passage way, he sat himself on the ground, and inspected the food. The sandwich was the exact same kind he had asked Dobby for earlier in the kitchen, and there were several pieces of fruit to choose from within the glass bowl in which they sat.

He lifted the sandwich out and held it to his mouth, debating on whether he should obey Snape's orders and return the food to the kitchen, or if he should just obey his own bodily needs. As his stomach grumbled loudly again, he didn't hesitate a moment longer. He brought the sandwich up and took a large bite of it, smiling for the first time all day as the taste of the roast beef hit his tongue.

He stayed in the abandoned corridor eating for almost half an hour before he realized how late it had gotten, and he scooped the partially empty dishware up, intent on returning the items to the kitchen as he was asked, and hoped he would not get in trouble for being up past curfew.

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A/N: Wow, that chapter took a long time to write. I wrote it three times before I was happy with the way it turned out. So, do you all like it so far? I almost cut out the part where Snape ordered some food from the kitchen. I was worried that I was straying too far from his usual temperament, but then decided that I would show that he was capable of even a little compassion, even if he's too snarky to admit it to anyone… even himself.

As always, please post a review. Let me know what you think about this chapter, and if anyone has any ideas or suggestions for things they might like to see written into the story, do let me know. I always try my best to please my readers. Thanks to you all!!