Harry- What did he say? Did he ask about her relatives? The subject she was not allowed to talk about? No, he couldn't be doing this. No. She felt all the scars on her back, and remembered the time she had attempted to tell her third grade teacher about her life, and treatment at the hands of the Dursely's.

Flashback:
"Harrietta Potter." The teacher called. A small girl in the back of the class raised her hand, and whispered, nearly inaudibly, "H-here, ma'am." The teacher raised her eyebrows, and moved on with roll-call. She did notice her student Dudley Dursely, cousins with Harrietta, stick his tongue out at her, and mouth something, but chose to ignore it. She went on with the lesson, and noticed every time she called on Potter, that she flinched, before whispering the correct answer out.

She went on, teaching as she usually did, but kept noticing that small, quiet, raven haired girl who sat in her class, always in the back. She was smart, but she must have been shy, for she had never volunteered herself to answer a question. She knew something was wrong, but what could it be? She knew Petunia, the nice woman who took care of her poor orphaned niece. She was a lovely lady, and she could never do anything hurtful! Her husband was a wonderful man as well. Although he got a bit hot-tempered when it came to his son's problems at school, he was always willing to go out of his way to go and help fix the problem. As the class was dismissed for lunch, she called out, "Harrietta. Harrietta Potter, please stay after for a few minutes. I want to talk to you about something."

The teacher saw Dudley push her, and then call her a...what sounded like freak. No, it must have been her imagination. Petunia's son must have been brought up well-mannered, and pleasant. The rumors about him being a bully couldn't be true. He laughed as he walked thru the door, laughing about something with his friend. The girl picked up her things, and walked up to the teacher, not making eye-contact. "Yes ma'am?" She asked.

Inside, she was panicking. What did the lady want with her? Why did she ask me to stay after? What if it's about the absences? How could I explain that I haven't been to school because I was unconscious, because my uncle had beaten me so bad? She stood there, and waited for the teacher to speak. And to her horror, she asked about the very thing she had been dreading.

"Why were you absent last week?" She asked. "We all missed you. Your cousin Dudley told us you were at home, but that's all he let out. Did something happen dear? You could tell me anything." Harrietta looked at her. Could she tell the teacher about this? Or would she not believe her? She took a leap of faith, and decided, against the little voice in her head warning her not to, to talk. To let it all out. She took a deep breath, and said, "I'm...not treated well at home." "What?" Her teacher said, surprised. "T-they...they don't feed me often, and they...they punish me f-for not doing chores o-on t-time." She said, hesitantly.

The teacher looked at her, and slapped her, hard. 'How dare this girl try to lie about her family, after they took her in, instead of taking her to the orphanage! Petunia and Vernon would never do such monster-like things. They had never, ever harmed their son, or had been anything but kind to everyone around them. The girl was simply hunting for attention.' "Get out." The teacher said in a cold voice to the poor girl cowering in front of her.

She fully intended to call Petunia up, and tell her about these lies which had spewed out, out of the girls mouth. The next week, Harrietta was 'sick' again, and didn't come to school. For the remainder of the year, the teacher ignored everyone who bullied Harry, sometimes, even joining in, and treated her worse than everyone else. Harry had learned not to talk about 'it' with other people, and swore never to do so, ever again.
*End of Flahback.*