Chapter Four

The common room was almost empty with just a few students dotted around, and those who knew where harry had been simply gave him looks of sympathy then went back to what they were doing. Harry headed straight up to his dorm room where he was immediately accosted by Ron.

"You're alive" he declared dramatically, forcing a small smile from harry. "You were gone for ages!"

"Had to do my summer work, remember," harry explained and grabbed his pyjamas from his trunk to change in the bathroom. When he came back out Ron was already tucking himself into bed, but had left his curtains open.

"Only six more days to go," he said and harry shook his head.

"With Snape maybe, but I've of a week of detention with Filch after that." Both boys groaned at the thought of spending a week in the caretakers presence and someone shushed them loudly. Deans voice floated out from behind his curtains reminding them they had classes the next morning and to bloody well go to sleep.

"Sorry," Ron said and smiled at Harry. Harry returned a grin and climbed into his bed, drawing the curtains around him and casting a silencing charm. The room around him was quiet with only the odd shuffling sound or light snore and harry fell asleep quickly.

When he shouted awake from yet another nightmare he was sweating and his chest was heaving. The panic that had gripped him in sleep still surrounded him and he threw himself from his bed to run into the bathroom just making it to the closest toilet before he vomited.

"Harry?" he heard and looked up from where he was kneeling, head leaning against the edge of the toilet bowl. Neville stood in the doorway, sleep mussed but alert.

Harry managed a groan before he was forced to place his head back in the bowl and vomit again. He heard Neville move into the room and close the door.

"Do you want me to get someone? Ron, or Madame Pompfrey?" Neville spoke quietly as he moved to wet a washcloth at the sinks and drape it over the back of Harry's neck. He shook his head and flushed the toilet, but stayed where he was sitting.

"'m fine," he murmured, "just give me a minute." He dripped with sweat and his whole body had started shivering with shock, but Neville didn't push it and just waited quietly as Harry got himself back together.

It took a few minutes of deep breathing to push the remains of his nightmare to the edges of his mind and stand up and walk to the taps. He turned the cold water on and swirled his first mouthful of water around his mouth and spit it in the sink, then took several more, large gulps of water.

Neville was still standing there, unsure and eyebrows furrowed in worry, but patiently waiting for Harry to tell him what to do.

"I'm fine," he asserted again and forced his body to stop shivering so he could stand up and at least pretend for a minute that he was. "It was just a nightmare."

"Some nightmare," Neville pointed out and Harry shrugged his shoulders and smiled self-deprecatingly.

"They're not usually that bad, guess I must have eaten something I shouldn't," he prevaricated and Neville eyed him silently for a few moments.

"I'm fine," he repeated once more. "Go back to bed, it's the middle of the night."

"Okay, Harry, but I think you should go and see Madame Pompfrey for something. You're obviously not sleeping well and we're all a bit worried about you, mate."

Unsure what to say to that Harry nodded and left the bathroom, Neville following after. As he climbed back into his bed, Harry turned to look at Neville climbing back onto his own.

"Sorry for waking you," he apologised and Neville gave a small smile.

"It's fine Harry, goodnight."

Harry sat on his bed for several long minutes until he could hear gentle snoring coming from Nevilles bed, then he quietly got up and pulled his school cloak on over his pyjamas. He left the dorm and headed down to the common room planning to just sit by the fire, but five minutes in and he was practically vibrating from the itch under his skin.

He stepped through the door and into the corridor. The fat lady snorted loudly in her portrait as he closed it over but didn't wake and minutes later Harry was sitting against the back wall of the owlery. It was almost empty, with a lot of its occupants off hunting and a brief look for Hedwig revealed she must be hunting as well.

Harry reached into his robes pocket and pulled his blade out before rolling up the leg of his pyjama pants as far as he could. He watched the moonlight reflect off the silver surface for a moment before he placed it to his thigh and sliced into the skin once more. The lingering remnants of a nightmare that would just not leave him cutting as deep as he could with the blade he had, and soon he had a number of cuts to reflect the anger and hopelessness sitting on the surface of the skin.

He watched the blood well up and fall in beads and then a river down his leg and sighed deeply. A few tears tracked their way down his cheeks but he wiped them away angrily before cutting himself one more time.

There was a small puddle of blood beneath him but the cuts on his leg had begun to scab over when Hedwig hooted and swept down to perch on his knee. She hooted in distress and Harry was so numb from experiencing and then supressing the surge of emotions that he could barely raise a hand to pet her back. She screeched louder and Harry grimaced and swallowed hard.

"I'm fine, girl," he whispered and moved his hand to scratch her wing joint.

She looked at him before moving forward to nip his ear, then shot up to the rafters above him, chittering angrily at him but obviously content enough that her human was well. Back to his senses a little more he realised he didn't have his wand with him and he cursed. It was in the dorm, under his pillow, safe enough but no use to him there. Since he was unable to conjure bandages or clean the mess he'd made on the floor, he rolled his pants leg back down and gingerly stood up.

His leg hurt, but there was no more pain than he was used to, so he took a last look and grabbed his blade from where it had fallen to the stone floor beside him. He'd have to make sure he Scourgified it when he got to his wand and he hoped whoever cleaned the owlery would just assume his blood was from some owl's dinner.

The dorm was still quiet when he returned, so he quickly retrieve his wand from under his pillow and moved into the bathroom. He cast a cleaning charm on his leg, pants and robe and then conjured yet another bandage to wrap around his leg. Resigned to once more laying quiet but awake in bed until the others starts to wake, he pulled his schoolbag onto his bed and started some homework.

When the other boys started stirring Harry quickly got out of his pyjamas and into his uniform before shoving the papers he'd been working on into his bag. He was half way to the door when Ron called out.

"Where you off to, mate?" Harry paused in his stride and smiled at his friends.

"Just going to the great hall. I've been awake for a bit and could kill a cup of tea."

Neville sat up in his bed and looked over to Harry, "you feeling better?" He asked and harry nodded, whilst Ron frowned.

"What do you mean?" He asked and Harry winced at the questions and refused to look at Neville as he answered.

"I got sick in the night, but I'm fine now," he explained and smiled. Ron's brow furrowed as he looked his friend over. Obviously satisfied enough that Harry wasn't going to drop dead, Ron stood up.

"If you say so," he replied and gathered his own uniform and things for a shower. Neville threw them both incredulous looks but refrained from saying anything and Harry made his escape. The great hall was once again pretty empty and harry gratefully sank into a seat at his house table and poured himself a cup of strong tea from the pot in front of him.

"You look like shit," Blaise sat down in the empty space beside him and Harry gave him a grimace.

"Thanks," he replied sarcastically and continued to sip on his drink.

"You looked like shit yesterday too, and the day before that." Harry just gave him a bland look then continued to ignore the Slytherin until a small potions vial was placed on the table in front of him, its contents shimmering purple.

"It's dreamless sleep," Blaise informed him and harry frowned.

"And?" harry asked and finally looked up at Blaise.

"You look like shit" he reiterated and tapped the vial.

"Where'd you get it?" Harry asked, suspicious

"It's from my own stores," he confessed and poured his own cup of strong tea. When Harry continued to just looked at him Blaise pushed the vial even closer.

"Look, you're not the only one with nightmares left over from the war. But it would appear that you're the only one stupid enough not to do something about it."

"Hey," Harry protested and Blaise threw him a withering look until Harry was forced to shrug his shoulders in defeat.

"Fine," he stated, "Thanks," and he went back to brooding into his cup in silence. Blaise stayed next to him and sipped on his own drink until the great hall doors opened and Ron and Hermione walked in chatting animatedly with each other, and Ron saw who Harry was sitting with and stopped walking to stare.

Blaise tapped the vial one more time and then stood to walk over to his own house table, sending a smirk over his shoulder when Ron loudly exclaimed, "what the hell, Harry!"

Harry smirked back and picked the dreamless sleep up to slip into a pocket before turning his attention to his friends.

"We were just talking," harry explained and moved to stand up. Hermione's eyes narrowed and she looked pointedly at the pocket that Harry had just slipped the vial into.

"What did he give you?" She asked curiously and Ron frowned.

"What do you mean what did he give him?" He asked Hermione before turning to Harry. "Did you take something off him? It could be anything Harry!"

Harry fought back to urge to punch Ron in the face and counted to five in his head before answering.

"Not that it's any of your business, but he gave me some dreamless sleep. Said I looked like shit." Hermione frowned at the language but looked over to the Slytherin table with a thoughtful look on her face.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed. "it's probably poison!" And Harry finally lost his patience.

"It was like a day ago when I told the whole hall to fucking stop this, Ron. I've had enough. Not only has Blaise not done anything to make me think he's anything but sincere in his actions, he noticed what you guys failed to. So, with all due respect, go to hell," Harry spoke, his voice quiet and left the hall, ignoring Ron and Hermione's protests.

He'd just stepped onto the bottom of the stairs when he heard someone shout out. He was thrown backwards with such force he flew several feet to hit the wall and his head banged hard against the unforgiving surface of the stones.

His vision grew dark for a moment, but he forced it back by biting hard down on his tongue, so that by the time the person who had spoken approached he had his wand in his hand and was staring dizzily but defiantly.

Zacharias Smith stood over him, wand drawn and a crazed smile on his face.

"I'm going to do what the dark lord couldn't and finish you, Potter," he spoke and Harry frowned but didn't answer. Instead he raised his wand and shouted out Expelliarmis. Smith threw up a quick shielding charm and Harry's spell bounced off harmlessly.

"Is that the only spell you know," smith taunted and threw a cutting hex at harry, who managed to throw up a shield of his own.

"It's served me ok so far," Harry replied and cast a Bombarda. Smith shielded again, and the hex bounced off to blast a section of the stair posts instead. Harry tried to stand and his vision grew dark again, despite his efforts to fight, and his eyes closed against his will. He was unable to hear what spell Smith shouted, next to the roaring in his ears, but braced himself for whatever it was.

When nothing happened, he opened his eyes to see Ron standing over a fallen Smith with his wand still pointed and a look of shock on his too pale face.

"Blimey," he said simply and harry found himself laughing which only made him dizzier but once he started he couldn't stop. Ron looked at him worriedly, but by then there were several people crowding around, drawn by all the noise the fight had generated and he turned instead to send someone to get a teacher.

Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape appeared moments later and while Dumbledore ensured Smith was unharmed before taking his wand and tying his arms up, Snape ushered all the onlookers away with threats of detention. Before long, it was just Harry, Ron and Hermione, Smith and the professors clustered around the stairs.

"Harry, my boy," Dumbledore started, "could you shed a little light on what happened?"

"I'm not sure Professor," Harry said, "I was just heading up to our common room and I heard someone shout a spell, then I'm on the floor ad looking up at Smith. We fought for a bit, then Ron appeared and took him out. I hit my head, so I was a bit out of it for most of the fight." Harry grimaced at the thought of what could have happened if Ron hadn't shown and threw his friend a grateful look. Ron just shrugged and gave a smile of his own.

"Very well, I would suggest you head up to Madame Pompfrey while the professors and I deal with Mr Smith here." Dumbledore conjured a stretcher and levitated Smith on it before patting Harry on the shoulder and walking off, professor Snape following after.

"Harry, are you ok?" Hermione appeared from somewhere and threw her arms around his neck ad he groaned as the motion moved his head and he grew dizzy again.

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry," Hermione let go and stepped back a guilty look on her face.

"It's fine Hermione, thanks to Ron. I think I just have a small concussion, I'll go see Pompfrey and be fine after a few foul-tasting potions, I'm sure." He forced himself to smile through the headache that was setting in and turned to Ron.

"I'm sorry for snapping mate. It's just I really haven't been sleeping well and I guess I'm not as patient as I could be. Thanks for following me, I don't know what wold have happened if you didn't."

"No problem Mate," Ron declared and threw an arm around Harry's shoulder. "Now let's get you to Madame Pompfrey." Hermione and Ron escorted him all the way to hospital wing and were then reluctantly ushered out to go to class.

"Alright Mr Potter, let's have a look at you," the mediwitch declared and pulled out her wand. Harry fought to not flinch back or even worse, jump off the bed and run from the room.

"It's just my head, madam pompfrey. Nothing else hurts." He smiled sheepishly, "and I'm pretty sure my heads hard enough that I'll survive."

Madame Pompfrey huffed a laugh and approached the bed to press gentle fingers on the bump on the back of Harry's head and wave her wand in several patterns all around his head.

"Well, it's look like a mild concussion. Easily sorted with a potion or two," harry grimaced and Madame Pompfrey laughed out loud before Accioing two potions vials from her store cupboard and a small squat jar. She passed both vials over to harry and watched as he drank then down and visibly shuddered at the flavour.

"Here, this will soothe and shrink that dragons egg you have going at the back of your head," and Harry leant forward a little for her to gently rub the paste into his head. Minutes later and the last of his vertigo dissappeared and he felt less nauseous and sore, if a little tired.

"Why don't you lay back for a bit Harry dear, you look like you could do with a rest and you really should be monitored for a little while. You're excused from lessons for the morning. If you can eat and keep down lunch, you can join your classmates in the afternoon classes."

Harry nodded and laid down, grimacing a little as he pushed on his sore head. Minutes later, he'd fallen into a light doze, and Madame Pompfrey moved off to fill out some paper work.

Lunchtime came sooner than he would have liked, considering he was getting a good dreamless nap, exhausted from the morning events, and Pompfrey woke him with a tray containing a sandwich and soup and a cup of pumpkin juice. Harry was surprisingly hungry for the first time in a while and it was no problem to eat all of what was on the tray. The mediwitch was obviously happy with his efforts and after casting a couple more spells on his head, she let him leave the hospital wing with promises to come back if he became dizzy or nauseous again.

Lunch in the great hall would be just finishing, so harry bypassed going there, knowing he'd just be gawked at. There's no way the gossip vine hadn't already spread the news of his fight this morning all throughout the school. Instead, he grabbed his school bag from his common room and headed down to the dungeons for double potions. He was the first to arrive, so he pulled out the borrowed potions text and started reading ahead.

A few minutes later and more students started to trickle down the passage and Harry stood from his spot on the floor and put the text back in his bag. Ron and Hermione rounded the corner and smiled when they saw him already outside the classroom.

"Harry, you're ok?" Hermione asked and harry nodded.

"Glad to hear it mate," Ron clapped him on the shoulder, then stood next to Hermione. "Did you hear about Smith?" He asked and Harry shook his head.

"'I've been in the hospital wing all morning, I haven't spoken to anyone but Madame Pompfrey." He explained.

"He's expelled." Ron answered. "Aurors came and broke his wand before they took him out the castle and everything. He was shouting the whole time how you were nothing, and Voldemort would come back again to finish you. He's mad mate!" Ron seemed a little too gleeful at the whole thing and both Harry and Hermione frowned but neither said anything and seconds later the door to the classroom opened and Snape was there telling everyone to hurry up and sit down and stop acting like animals.

Harry grateful for the interruption was the first to enter the room and moved immediately to his bench to unpack his cauldron and get the textbook out again. Potions class went by without any real distractions, and at the end of it harry had a passable potion to hand in. As he dropped it off at the professor's desk, Snape looked up from his work.

"Don't forget detention tonight potter, regardless of the days... activities, I expect you in my office at seven."

Harry merely nodded and left the classroom, with his friends tailing after him.

Dinner was exhausting as everyone sitting within hearing distance wanted to ask him about what happened with Smith and Ron was driving him up the wall with the preening he was doing at having saved Harry from the boy. He lasted about ten minutes before he excused himself and left the hall. Hearing all his classmates talk about what happened, and pointing out what could have happened and why, it finally hit harry that he'd been attacked by a potential death eater, or child of a death eater, and he could feel his vison start to tunnel and his breath got caught in his lungs.

He ducked into a nearby toilet and locked himself in a stall before sitting down on the closed toilet seat. He put his head between his legs and tried to draw in air, gasping with each inhale. When that didn't seem to be working he fumbled in his robe pocket and drew out his blade. He quickly rolled his pants leg up and drew the blade across his leg, just once.

The sharp bite shocked his senses and after several deep gasps of air, his breathing evened out a little more and the panic subsided a little. He was tempted to draw more lines into his leg, but deliberately placed the blade back into his pocket and pulled his pants leg down. He stayed there until it was time to leave for his detention just breathing and trying hard not to focus on the days events.

By the time he walked briskly to Snape's office he felt a little more in control and the panic had receded enough that by the time he reached the office he appeared unruffled. A sharp knock on the door had Snape calling out enter in a low voice and Harry drew a deep breath before opening the door and entering. Snape looked over him for several moments and seemed satisfied with what he saw as he stood and indicated that Harry follow him into his potions storeroom.

"You are to clean this room." He indicated the space around him. "dusting, polishing, mopping." Harry grimaced at the amount of work that would entail but didn't say anything.

When it was clear harry wouldn't protest Professor Snape waved his wand and produced the necessary cleaning equipment Harry would need and left him alone in the small room. Harry curled his lip but got to work.

The physical labour of moving around the room pulled and stretched newly made and freshly healing cuts, so that by the time he was finally finished not only was he tired and grumpy, but he was limping. As he stepped out of the storeroom and moved towards Snape to let him know he was finished he saw the man's eyes narrow.

"You are limping potter," Snape snarled and harry shrugged his shoulders.

"Must have hurt it this morning but didn't notice 'til I worked my ass off," he bantered and Snape growled out "five points for language potter."

"I'm done now," harry merely ignored his professor and placed the bucket of supplies on the floor by the desk. Snape waved his wand and banished the whole thing before turning to harry.

"I would suggest you make yet another visit to the infirmary before you head to your common room. Curfew is in twenty minutes, so I would hurry if I were you. Wouldn't want another detention on top of the ones you have, now would you?" the way he said it had Harry positive that Snape would be lurking the corridors by Gryffindor tower after curfew tonight to try and catch him out.

Harry just shrugged again and moved to go.

"I will see you at seven tomorrow night potter." And harry nodded his head without turning, trying to minimise his limping. By the time he made it up all the stairs to Gryffindor tower, then to his dorm room his leg was throbbing, playing out a rhythm of pain with the beat of his heart.

His friends took one look at him and obviously decided it would be wise to leave him alone for the moment and simply mumbled goodnights. He pulled the curtains around his bed and changed into his pyjamas, hissing at the pain and looking a little worriedly at his slightly swollen, red thigh. The last thing he did before he threw his robes over the end of his bed was pull out the purple potion filled vial from one of the pockets.

The next time he dreamt the nightmares were bound to be worse, after today, but he'd worry about that when he needed to. "Bottoms up," he whispered quietly and drank down the vials contents before laying down on the bed. He just managed to pull the covers up to his chin when the potion kicked in and sleep took over.