Disclaimer: J.K.R. is awesome for her creation of Harry Potter and all his buddies!
A/N: I'm sorry this chapter took so long to get posted. Since we finally got home after our vacation, every day has been busy with doctor appointments, preparations for the start of school, and court hearings and other such meeting in regards to my foster children. Truthfully, I just hadn't felt like writing for the past week because I found out that we won't get to adopt the sibling group of five that we've been fostering for over a year now. The children's case worker had told us that we would likely get to keep them, but it was recently decided by those in charge that the children will have to return home, despite the fact that they don't want to go. It's going to be very hard to watch them leave. But, nevertheless, I wanted to get this chapter posted since you've all been waiting so long for it. I hope you enjoy it. Please don't forget to review when you're done. Thanks to you all!!
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Where Do I Go From Here?
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Chap. 9 Caught in the Act
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Harry woke suddenly with a gasp and sat bolt upright in bed, trying to catch his breath as he scrubbed the tears from his eyes with the heel of one of his hands. He had just had another nightmare. It seemed that, even in his sleep, there was no escape from the memories of Uncle Vernon and the terrible events of the summer.
Glancing around the room, Harry abruptly remembered where he was and how he came to be there. He pulled himself from under the warm covers and slid his legs over the side of the bed, the cold stone floor almost making him draw his bare feet back up. It wasn't until then that he looked down at the clothes he was wearing, and he blushed when he realized that he was in the pale blue pajamas that Pomfrey issued all her overnight patients. That meant that Pomfrey had seen his injuries.
Harry panicked at the thought, his right hand automatically gripping the palm of his left and squeezing in a sub-conscience gesture like the one he had used while trapped in his cupboard at Privet Drive. But when no sudden burst of pain occurred, he looked down, and upon seeing the scar of the now healed wound on his palm, he remembered that he needed his knife to bring about the relief he was seeking now.
Knowing his favored blade was currently sitting in his room safely tucked away in his trunk, Harry decided he would have to improvise. He padded over to the nearest window and judged it to be late in the day, the setting sun casting its last golden rays of light at such an angle that Harry's silhouette was shadowed onto the opposite wall.
Figuring everyone must be in the Great Hall for supper, Harry looked around for his wand. Finding it on the small nightstand next to his bed, he snatched it up and looked about the room one last time to ensure he was not being watched before taking off out of the infirmary's main doors.
Harry located a bathroom just one corridor away and he slipped inside, grateful he hadn't been seen. Noticing that the bathroom was mercifully empty, he heaved a sigh of relief and cast a locking charm on the door.
Once he felt reasonably sure he would have the privacy he was seeking, he cast his eyes over the floor of the bathroom for an object that he could transfigure, but found it disappointingly clean. Cursing the efficiency of Hogwart's house elves, Harry drew his hand through his hair in frustration. Finally, seeing nothing else for it, he yanked the bottom-most button from his pajama top and pointed his wand at it. It took several attempts, but he was finally able to produce a suitable razor, even if the metal was tinted the same color as the button had been.
Satisfied with his work, he settled himself in the corner next to the sink furthest from the door. He raised his makeshift razor enough to catch the light and he tilted it from side to side, reverently admiring the way it reflected everything around it; but then it showed Harry his own distorted image and he grimaced in disgust. Pulling up a sleeve, Harry now saw the bandages wrapped around his arm that he hadn't until this moment realized were there and he froze, his heart beating rapidly.
He did not remember much of what happened that morning after having been given the Calming Draught, and he hadn't realized until now that his biggest secret had been discovered. He knew upon waking that they must have figured out that his relatives had hurt him, but he had been unsure if they had also found out about the cutting. Staring down at the white strips of gauze, a note of finality struck deep within him and seemed to clench around his heart. What would they think of their savior now? Harry wondered.
He slowly pulled the bandages off, only slightly relieved to see the marks beneath still there. If anything, it would have been worse, Harry decided, if Madam Pomfrey had healed those marks as well. He ran his fingertips over the mesh of healing scabs, admiring the rows of small, evenly-spaced cuts while searching for a spot to place the newest ones in.
Picking an area just below his wrist, Harry lined the razor up and swiped downward, but before the pain could even register, he was already swiping down again, and again, not stopping until there were five new cuts lined across his flesh, the blood welling to the surface in slow dribbles. He then inspected his work, noticing straight off that the razor cut differently from the knife he was so used to using. The razor had cut a little deeper than he had intended, its sharper blade needing much less pressure than the knife ever had, but Harry decided it would do.
Setting the razor on the floor, Harry leaned back against the wall and took several deep, steadying breaths, feeling as if he could breathe only now, as if he had been denied oxygen and was only granted it just then. How awful it had been to wake up in the infirmary, knowing he had been given no choice in the matter, knowing that he had been forced to comply, and in the process, he had his secrets revealed. Why? The mantra kept flowing through his head, Why was he not allowed to make a single decision when it came to his life? He knew the act of cutting himself, as warped it might seem to others, was one choice he had made on his own, but now that the adults knew, they would try to take that away from him as well.
As Harry's train of thought dwelt on those issues, he felt the slight sense of peace that the cutting had given him start to ebb away and he grabbed the razor back up, preparing to add just a few more lines to his most recent set. But as he was lining the blade up, he was jolted to full attention when a loud click sounded through the bathroom. Throwing his gaze to the door, he panicked when he saw the door begin to swing open. Snatching his wand up, he stood to face the mirror that hung on the wall only a few feet away and desperately tried to cast a glamour charm on himself before anyone would be able to see his true form.
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Poppy had just returned from supper in the Great Hall when she noticed the empty bed and the rumpled covers that lay strewn over its side. With a sudden intake of breath, she rushed around the side of the bed, hoping that the missing teen had merely fallen to the floor, but she was disappointed when she did not find him there, nor anywhere else in the infirmary for that matter. Rushing to the Floo in her office, she hurriedly fire-called Dumbledore who was just returning from the Great Hall as well.
"Albus, come quick! Harry Potter has gone missing from his bed!"
Without delay, Dumbledore walked briskly towards the fireplace, holding his long robe up slightly as he went to prevent it hindering his path, and he instructed, "Step aside, Poppy, I'm coming through."
With worry etched in her features, she took several steps back, freeing the way for Dumbledore as he entered through the Floo with flash of green fire and a whirl of smoke. Within minutes, the pair of them was searching the surrounding corridors and rooms.
It didn't take long for them to come to the same bathroom that Harry had previously found. Dumbledore pushed on the door with no success, but after a quick and silent swish of his wand, he was able to enter with no further hindrance, Poppy on his heels.
The two stepped into the small bathroom and then stopped in their tracks only a few paces in. Harry was at the mirror, frantically trying to cast a glamour charm, but his hand was shaking so much that he was unable to steady his wand long enough to say the entire incantation.
Dumbledore took a step closer to the obviously distressed teen, taking in the wild look in the boy's eyes, and he raised his hand as he neared as one might do if approaching a frightened animal.
"Give me the wand, Harry."
Harry threw his head to the side and looked at the pair as if seeing them for the first time, his eyes huge.
"Harry, I want you to give me your wand, please."
Still, Harry hesitated. He knew it was foolish to be scared of Dumbledore, the man had always been so kind to him in the past, but Harry couldn't forget who it was that brought him to the hospital wing in the first place, and he pointed his wand shakily at his Headmaster. Poppy gave a little gasp at the action, but Dumbledore seemed to take no notice of it whatsoever.
Without a word spoken, Dumbledore continued to close the gap between himself and the shaking youth before him. As soon as he was close enough to reach it, Dumbledore wrapped his long, thin fingers around the end of Harry's wand and gently pulled it from the boy's grasp, slipping the slender piece of wood into one of the pockets of his robe.
Feeling defenseless, Harry shuffled backward a few paces until his back hit the wall with a muffled thud, and he wrapped his arms around himself as he stared at the two adults, too anxious about having been caught in his misdeed to say or do anything other than to compulsively bite at his bottom lip.
Harry watched as Madam Pomfrey placed a hand on Dumbledore's shoulder, and in turn, Dumbledore raised his gaze to the medi-witch's inquiringly. Following the path her eyes were looking, Dumbledore's sight was pulled down to Harry's left arm and the blood starting to soak through the fabric.
Harry finally looked down as well, and upon seeing what was drawing their attention, he clutched his left arm protectively to his chest, covering it as best he could with his other one.
"Harry, I would like you to come with us now."
Dumbledore's soft voice seemed loud in the otherwise quiet room and Harry was barely able to stop himself from jumping at the sudden noise. A moment later, however, Harry registered what had been said and he shook his head in weak refusal.
Releasing a sigh, Dumbledore shook his head as well and said, "I'm sorry, Harry, but I can't allow you to stay here. Besides, do you really want to risk having any of the other students coming in and seeing you like this?"
He raised his brows in a questioning nature, but it seemed that his words had the effect he wanted and Harry reluctantly shuffled forward, his head bowed in defeat, and his arms once again wrapped protectively around his middle.
Dumbledore tenderly placed his arm around Harry's shoulders, but the teen ducked out from under it before it even fully came to a rest. As far as Harry was concerned, they may be able to force him to follow them back to the infirmary, but that didn't mean he had to like it, and he was bound and determined to be sure they knew it.
Pomfrey led the way out of the bathroom and into the corridor beyond, Harry right behind her, with Dumbledore following after them in procession. Harry felt his cheeks heat in shame. They were guiding him back as if he were a prisoner that they worried might somehow escape.
He twisted his right hand around the fresh cuts and squeezed, using the pain to ground himself and mute out the feelings of anger, fear, and loss of control that threatened to overpower him. But then, a warm, firm hand rested on his shoulder and he turned his view in that direction only to see the old Headmaster staring at him disapprovingly in silent admonishment. Harry again ducked his head and slowly relaxed his grip, sliding his hand down and away, noticing from the corner of his eye the smudges of blood that now dotted his palm. He briskly wiped his hand on the side of his pants leg as he walked, finishing the rest of the short journey in silence.
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Snape grumbled to himself through clenched teeth as he stalked down the halls of Hogwarts, students leaping from his path as he steadily made his way to his destination. Even his Slytherins knew better than to bother the man when he was so obviously irritated. And why shouldn't he be? He had just left the Headmaster's office mere minutes ago after having been informed, in no uncertain terms, that he would have to spend several hours of his precious free time that evening keeping an eye on Potter.
It was bad enough that Dumbledore was still pressuring him to allow the brat into his quarters, as if Potter were one of his Slytherins, but to then assign him to "Potter Duty"? It was intolerable!
Snape scowled ferociously at a group of first year Hufflepuff students as he passed, and was only mildly satisfied as he heard one of the girls break down into tears as he rounded the corner.
Just leave it to Potter, Snape thought bitterly, to wake so soon after being treated just that morning. Yes, leave it to Potter to not follow the norm.
Poppy had insisted that the boy would sleep until late in the evening, but he woke up hours earlier than expected. Dumbledore had explained to Snape what had occurred earlier that evening when the boy had awakened to find himself alone and, determined to not allow the incident repeat itself, the Headmaster had insisted Potter be watched. And of course, Snape thought, I was given the 'honor' of watching the little brat.
With a low growl, Snape flung open the infirmary doors, oddly pleased when Madam Pomfrey jumped at the racket, dropping the roll of gauze that she held suspended in her hand.
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Madam Pomfrey had just finished re-bandaging Harry's arm and she nodded to herself when she saw that the bleeding had finally stopped. She had just resettled the blanket over the teen when the infirmary doors flew open with a resounding Bang! Startled, Poppy jumped at the sound and dropped her gauze, watching with dismay as Harry cringed on the bed below, his head sinking somewhat into the pillow.
"Severus!" Poppy scolded him, "Great Merlin, you gave me a fright!"
Snape ignored her completely as he made his way over to the farthest corner, flicked his wand, and sat in the chair that he had just summoned, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he folded his arms over his chest and glared irritatedly at Harry's bed from across the room.
Harry, however, didn't catch the most recent look of contempt being sent his way. As soon as those doors had crashed open and he saw the look of rage on Snape's face, his mind was instantly drawn to memories of the summer and how Vernon often wore that very same expression right before Harry got a beating. Harry had once more drawn the covers over his head in an effort to hide himself as he shook uncontrollably.
Soon, he heard Pomfrey's footsteps as she marched away from his bedside, and then he could hear her whispering furiously in the corner, but was unable to pick up any of the words clearly, even though he strained his ears to hear what he knew was a conversation with Snape, most likely about him.
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"Severus, what do you mean bursting into my infirmary like that? Have you no decency?!"
Poppy paused, but before Snape was able to make a single comment in return, she continued her tirade.
"After everything that boy's been through, I'll not have you bullying him; I don't care how mad you are that Albus sent you here."
Snape was tempted to glower at the elderly medi-witch, but he could remember his own experiences as a student and how she patched him up after his own rocky summers, and he tempered his foul mood as best he could.
Poppy watched some of the anger fall from his face and remarked, "That's better."
She swished her own wand gracefully through the air, sending yet another chair towards them. Promptly seating herself, she wasted no time in explaining the situation to the Potions Master.
"As you know, Albus has asked you to sit with Mister Potter after the incident that took place earlier in the bathroom. I have my own duties to attend to before curfew, but I'll be back in a couple hours."
Snape raised a brow inquiringly at her and she quickly expounded, "I had to send a Ravenclaw home last night after they were diagnosed with Dragon Pox. I need to go to Ravenclaw tower and make sure all the students are up to date on their vaccinations against it. We don't want to risk an outbreak of that, do we?"
Without further ado, she stood and started for the door, pausing only a brief moment to cast her gaze towards the sole occupied bed in the room before she turned back around and left, the sound of her footsteps reverberating through the silence and finally dying off a few moments later, leaving Snape alone with Harry in the dimly lit room.
The minutes ticked slowly by and Snape watched the blanket-covered mound he knew to be Potter, waiting for some movement from the boy; but after a half hour, Snape came to the conclusion that the he must have fallen asleep. Curiosity getting the better of him, he made his way over to the bed and carefully drew back the covers. Sure enough, Potter was asleep and his arm bared the new bandages, the gauze showing stripes of dark lines of dried blood from the most recent cutting episode. The boy must have cut deeply for the wounds to have bled that much.
Allowing the blanket to drop back into its place from his slackened grasp, Snape retreated to his chair in the corner, dousing several candles along the way and plunging the room into darkness, the only light coming from the rising moon and the sole candle left sitting on Potter's bedside table.
Time seemed to go by unsurpassably slow, and Snape could not help but to think of all he could be getting done if he had been allowed to spend the evening in his office as he had wanted. He had just cast tempus for the third time and was about to go drag Poppy back when a small noise attracted his attention and he stilled in his seat to wait for whatever it was to make itself known.
He did not have to wait long. Only moments later, the infirmary door slowly creaked open. Snape held his breath as he waited for the person to step the rest of the way into the room, but the figure was standing in the open doorway as if looking about for others who may be watching, thereby concealing their identity between the open double doors.
Close the door, Snape's thoughts screamed to him, Close the door! He had already drawn his wand and he slowly raised it, ready for anything and thankful he had put out most of the lights, the darkness now hiding him from view. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the door was slowly being closed and Snape took a step forward, a disarming spell on the tip of his tongue.
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A/N: Yes, I know I'm mean to leave it like that, but if anyone cares to guess who it might be, let me know in your review, and I'll tell you if you're right. I'll post the next chapter as soon as I can, hopefully within a week or two. Please don't forget to review. I look forward to finding out my readers' opinions on this chapter. Thanks to you all!!