Chapter Eight
The long minutes it took for the mediwitch to appear from her rooms situated adjacent to the hospital wing were spent in silence. Nothing could be heard but Harry's laboured breathing as he fought down a panic attack and tried to remember the last time he cast his glamours. He reached down and pulled the thin hospital sheet over his legs.
Professor Snape watched him carefully, obviously prepared to catch him if he ran, but Harry figured out pretty quickly that the action of running would absolutely scream that he had an issue.
"What is it Severus, none of my alarms have gone off and I had no one here for the night." Madame Pomfrey finally came shuffling in, still tightening the rope of her dressing gown around her middle.
"Mr Potter, of course I should have known," she exclaimed as she took in the sight of Harry sitting on the bed, shoulders hunched.
"It would seem he is the one responsible for your missing dreamless sleep potions, Poppy, and worse, he has been consuming them nightly." Snape explained and Madame Pomfrey gave Harry a troubed look.
"Oh, Mr Potter," she fretted, "you should have simply asked me for help. I would have provided you with dreamless sleep, and a lighter sleep aid for the nights you could not have it. You could have caused serious damage to your mind!"
"That is not the only issue I am afraid," Snape spoke to Poppy quietly but Harry still flinched and huddled further under the sheet.
Madame Pomfrey looked at him worriedly and raised her wand, "Well, what's the issue? We'll give it a fix, then have a dicussion about potions abuse." She looked disappointedly at Harry and waited for Harry to explain what the problem was. When he refused to answer she frowned.
"Come now, Mr Potter, I wont wait all night. No need to be embarrassed, nothing I haven't seen before I'm sure." When this still failed to give a result she lowered her wand and looked to Professor Snape for assistance.
Snape scowled at Harry and pulled the sheet from his fingers, so that his leg, and the cut, was revealed.
"Mr Potter had cut himself." He explained and Harry's breathing sped up again, until his chest was heaving in and out painfully. Madame Pomfrey looked at him, confused about the reaction until Snape spoke again.
"Intentionally, Poppy," and Madame Pomfrey eyes widened in understanding before she raised her wand and stepped forward to cast several spells at the leg.
"Well, it's a deep infection Mr Potter, you should have sought help days ago, but don't fret. A small potion and some cream, and your leg will be as good as new." The mediwitch retrieved a small vial and the ointment Harry had tried stealing before and moved back in front of Harry.
"Drink this now," she handed him the vial and watched as he drank it, then gently rubbed some of the cream into his leg. Harry hissed at the pressure on the infected wound and Madame Pomfrey looked at him sympathetically whilst Professor Snapes' scowl deepened.
"Harry," she said gently, "I have to ask if there is anywhere else that you have caused harm to yourself?" She looked like the question was hard to ask, and Harry hated that he'd put that expression on one of the few adults he liked and trusted, but couldn't tell her the truth.
"No, Ma'am," he lied and Snape growled.
"I don't believe him," he told the mediwitch, "at the very least you should have him remove his shirt for an examination." Harry knew any negative reaction would be his undoing, so with a prayer to whoever was listening that his glamours were still there he shrugged his shoulders.
"Sure," he said and pulled his shirt of in one smooth move. When he didn't hear gasps of dismay or anger, he figured his glamours were still there and resisted the urge to look down.
"It's just my leg," he lied, "I cut once 'cause my cousin Dudley's girlfriend did it and reckoned it helped, but I don't know. Maybe I just did it wrong, 'cause it only hurt like hell"
"Mr Potter, five points from Gryffindor for lanuage," Madame Pomfrey replied, surprising him, but he just shrugged again.
"Be that as it may, the headmaster will need to be informed about both this incident and your foray into thievery and potions abuse," she explained and Harry, emotionally exhaused from the whole ordeal just nodded his head.
"As it is the middle of the night, you will remain here under my alarm spells, and we will discuss your options at a more civil time of the morning." Harry resisted groaning and instead laid down and pulled the sheet back up to his chin.
"Fine," he said and felt the mediwitch transfigure his clothing into standard hospital pajamas, before she moved off into a more private corner of the room to speak with Professor Snape.
"I don't believe him," Snape stated as soon as he could cast a privacy shield.
"His arms were clear, professor Snape, and I don't have the proof to demand he fully disrobe. He is almost of age and unless I consider him at risk of serious harm to self or others, my hands are tied. My concern now is his dependency on the Dreamless sleep potion and what that will mean for his sleep patterns now that is has been taken from him." Madame Pomfrey explained and both of them frowned as they thought of the possible repercussions involved.
"In any case, what I said to Harry just now stands for is also. It is late, and there is little to be done until the morning. I'll ask, if you could, to pop into see the headmaster before he breakfasts, so that he may be involved in any discussions."
Snape nodded and left the hospital wing with one last glance at Harry, who was pretending to be asleep.
"I know you're not sleeping, Harry," Madame Pomfrey told him once the Professor was gone, and Harry opened his eyes and sat looking guiltily at the mediwitch. "You cannot have dreamless sleep, but I can give you a light sleep aid potion that should help slow your thoughts and anxiety's down enough to help you fall asleep." She told him and Harry shrugged his shoulders.
"It's not generally the falling asleep part that's the problem," he told her, but took the light pink potion when she offered it.
"If you awaken before I return in the morning, you are not to leave that bed, do you understand Mr potter?"
"Yes, Ma'am," he told her and once again laid down pulling the sheet over himself and curling around his pillow.
He woke only twenty minutes later, already gagging. He was disoriented from not waking in his bed, and as consequence Madame Pomfrey found him kneeling on the floor a few feet from the bathroom still retching onto the floor.
"Oh, Mr Potter," her voice strained with indisguised concern, and she rushed forward to banish the sick and help Harry back to bed. She conjured a glass of water, which he took gratefully and then watched him silently as he drank.
"I take it since you were desperate enough to steal my potions that most nights are like this?" She asked when he'd finally finished the water. Harry nodded and after placing the empty glass on the bedside table, he lay down and pulled the pillow over his face.
"It is still late, Mr Potter, or very early, if you rather, and I myself need a little more sleep. I would suggest you get some more of your own, but since I am not naïve, I will simply remind you that you must remain in bed until I have excused you from my wing."
Harry grumbled from underneath the pillow, which Madame Pomfrey took as agreement, and minutes later he was alone again as she returned to her sleeping quarters. She was right, there was no way he was going back to sleep.
He sat up and eyed the medicine cabinet, sorely tempted to break in and steal a dreamless sleep potion. He'd be caught within minutes of opening the damn thing, but if he was quick enough he could take the potion anyway and be out of it for the next eight hours.
His eyes widened when he realised the path his thoughts were going down and he groaned aloud before reaching back to tug roughly at the hair at the base of his neck.
He truly was growing addicted to the potion, and he needed to be careful before he ended up with yet another issue to deal with.
Harry threw himself back down on his bed and drew the pillow back over his face. He lay like that for hours until he heard footsteps approaching and entering the room, and then heard Dumbledore and Pomfrey talking quietly. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but chose to keep the pillow over his face rather than remove it and try to eavesdrop. It was a couple minutes later when one set of footprints approached his bed and he heard Madame Pomfrey huff.
"I know you're awake, Mr Potter," she said, before she pulled the pillow from his face and he frowned up at her.
"How are you feeling this morning?" She asked and he looked at her incredulously.
"Like shit," he responded impassively and she frowned at him.
"Language, Mr Potter," she said and he shrugged before apologising.
"Well, the headmaster wished to speak with you in his office. But before that, we are going to discuss you misuse of potions," she told him and conjured a chair to sit beside his bed.
"You understand, Mr Potter, how dangerous your actions were?" She asked and Harry shook his head.
"I didn't know," he implored, hoping she would believe him, "I just thought it would eventually stop working, like when muggles take antibiotics too much they stop being as effective."
"While it is true, if you had taken it the correct way, that's the only effect you would have suffered, you didn't take it correctly, did you?"
Harry curled into himself, with his arms around his legs and his knees to his chest, fighting back tears that threatened to fall.
"I just wanted to sleep," his voice cracked on the confession and Madame Pomfrey looked at him with pity.
"If last night is a good example, I can understand why. But Mr Potter, what you've done has probably made a bad situation worse, and after the discovery that you've experimented with self-harm, I am hesitant to let you go back to the tower to sleep."
Harry looked at her with wide eyes and sat up straight.
"What?!" His voice cracked again, "you can't do that. There's nothing wrong with me, I just have nightmares. Isn't there a different potion I can take, one that's not so bad?" He implored.
"Where there are certainly other potions that are less addictive and less likely to cause damage to your mind, they are also less effective. If I was to give you one, it would be a potion that simplpy encourages good dreams, rather than bad. It won't work if your mind is too over shadowed by the nightmares you are experiencing." She explained and Harry had to fight back tears once more.
"I'll try it," he told her once he got himself under control. "Please, don't keep me here." He implored again and Madame Pomfrey regarded him seriously for a moment.
"Very well, Mr Potter, you may try the potion in your own dorm room, but you will be watched closely by myself and some of the other professors, and if we are unhappy with the results, you will be back here before you can say 'quidditch.'"
Harry smiled at her and sat back, finally relaxing a little bit.
"I would also like to recommend finding someone to speak with about the contents of your nightmares, it can be cathartic, and may help you in letting some of them go." When Harry opened his mouth to protest, Madame Pomfry stuck her hand up, silencing him.
"It can be a friend, a professor, or me, if you wish, and I am not enforcing it, I merely make the suggestion. I would however, like you to try meditating each night before you sleep." She told him and Harry nodded.
"Since your leg will require a look over, and more cream, you will return here after dinner. I will do your leg, and give you a sample of the sleep aid potion before you head up to your dormitory for the night."
The mediwitch stood and banished the chair she had conjured before straightening her robes, "Now I do believe the headmaster would like to speak with you."
Harry gladly got out of bed and put his shoes back on, then waited patiently while Madame pomfrey transfigured his pyjamas back to the robes he'd been wearing the night before, then cast a cleaning charm on both him and his clothes. Harry felt the charm remove his glamours and flinched, inifinitely glad he was covered head to toe before she'd cast that charm.
"I will see you tonight," she told him and moved off into her office. Harry left the hospital wing and made his way slowly to Dumbledores office.
Once he got to the familiar suit of armour, Harry realised he hadn't been given the password. However, seconds later, the armour stepped aside and the familiar stairs appeared, spirally silently upword. Harry eyed the armour for a moment, before stepping around it an climbing the stairs. When he reached the outer office Harry could hear voices within, and when he figured out it was Snape in there with the headmaster, he moved forward to place his ear on the door and listen in.
"I don't like it," he heard Snape say lowly and the headmaster chuckled lightly.
"It is a viable solution, my dear Severus, and one we have used in the past," Dumbledore responded and Snape growled.
"Not for years," he all but barked out and Dumbledore chuckled again.
"Perhaps not, but we will not begin with it, but see how things progress." Harry heard Snape huff out a breath in anger, and then heard footsteps approach the inner door. He stepped back just in time, as Professor Snape pulled the door open roughly and growled out , "We'll see indeed," before he turned and nearly bumped into Harry.
"Mr Potter, how long have you been standing there listening to things that are not your business?" He snarled and Harry took a step back involuntarily.
"Come now, Severus, no need to scare the boy," Dumbledore spoke up from behind him as he stood and rounded his desk.
"I let him up when the castle informed me he was waiting," Harry frowned at that bit of news, but kept quiet, "he heard nothing of consequence."
Snape scowled at Harry once more, before swirling his robes around him and leaving the office.
Dumbledore looked at Harry a moment then waved his arm around his office, inviting Harry to enter.
"Come, Harry my boy, sit, sit, and I'll order us some tea and toast, I'm sure you must be hungry, you missed breakfast."
Harry shrugged but moved into the room to sit in his usual chair. Professor Dumbledore conjured a tea tray with a full tea service and a plate of buttered toast and scones, then sat in the chair next to Harry rather than behind his desk.
"Dig in," he told arry, then helped himself to a cup of sweet tea and half a scone.
Harry served himself a cup of strong tea, but ignored the tea, his heart was doing somersaults in his chest as he worried what this meeting was about.
When Dumbledore had finished half his cup of tea and all of his scone, he sat back and smiled at Harry.
"It's unfortunate circumstance that have us meeting today, my boy. I do wish is were unnecessary to have this conversation, but have this conversation we must."
Harry nervously took a large gulp of tea, the scalding liquid burning his tongue and ironically calming him down.
"My first question is perhaps my hardest, though I am sure once we have passed that hurdle, things will be a lot easier." Dumbledore leant forward in his chair and looked at Harry seriously, "are you suicidal Harry?"
Harry spluttered around another gulp of tea and looked at Dumbledore incredulously.
"What?!" He managed to splutter out, "NO!"
Dumbledore smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes and leant back into his chair again.
"You have no idea how glad I am to hear that, my boy," he confessed and Harry felt himself go red.
"I have been appraised of the situation of course, with the cutting and the abuse of dreamless sleep, but I would like to hear an explanation from you as to what has been happening and why you felt like there was no one to go to for help."
Harry grimaced. He couldn't very well tell Dumbledore he didn't ask for help because he didn't want years of abuse to come to light, and that his faith in the adults around him was seriously lacking, so instead he shrugged his shoulders.
"I'm sorry, Harry, but that answer will not do. I am happy to give you a moment to gather your thoughts, but if I am to let you continue going to class, I need to now that you and the other students are safe."
Harry felt himself grow angry at the insinuation that maybe he might hurt someone else, but deflated quickly when he realised Dumbledore was right. He sort of was losing his mind a little. Harry put his head in his hands and fought back a sob. He stayed like that for several moments, Dumbledore simply sitting quietly and patiently while he figured out what to say. He finally decied what he had told Madame Pomfrey and Snape the night before was good enouugh, he'd just elaboate a little more.
Finally, Harry took a deep breath and looked up at the headmaster.
"I've been having nightmares since the ministry," he confessed and Dumbledore frowned but didn't interrupt. "They were alright in the beginning, only happening now and then and not really too bad, but as times moved on they've gotten worse," he explained and paused to consider what he was going to say next.
"It's like... they've mutated?" It was almost a questions. "Like, they were just about all the things I've faced and stuff, and now they're a composition of fact and fiction and what had been and what I worry will be, and they're so much worse." Harry took a drink of tea and continued, now that he had finally started talking he was finding it hard to stop.
"I just wanted to sleep without the memories for a little while," he confessed and he could feel tears forming in his eyes. He blinked rapidly to push them back, then bit the inside of his cheek.
"And the cut on your leg," Dumbledore pushed when it looked like Harry hasd finished explaining about his dreams.
"I knew a muggle girl who used to do it, said it got out all the bad stuff and made her feel better, and I guess I thought I didn't really have much to lose if I gave it a try," Harry shrugged his shoulder disparagingly and Dumbledore frowned.
"And how did that go?" He asked and Harry forced his hand to not shake as he took a sip from his cup.
"Well, I cut too deep, didn't I," he prevaricated and hoped it was enough.
Dumbledore studied Harry for several long moments, then stood up to move around his desk and take a seat in his chair.
"Very well, Harry my boy. Madame Pomfrey had already explained to me the methods in which you and she will be using to hopeully aid you in getting a good nights sleep. But befoe you leave, I would like to emphasise that there are several adults in this catsle who wouldm be willing to listen to you, and help you in any way they can. I am one of them, and you are free to see me out day or night." Harry noddedm unsure of what to say and stood up after putting his empty tea cup on th tray.
"Thanks, Professor," he finally said as he reached the door. He then slipped out and headed to the dorm to get ready for class. When he reached the tower, it was fairly empty so no one questioned him as he masde his way to the shower.
Standing under the spray with his glamours down, Harry inspected the red, pink and grey lines which decorated his arms and contemplated adding another before he thought better of it. Instead he washed, then dried and dressed, re apllied the glamours and headed to class thirty seconds before the bell tolled.
"Where have you beed mate?" Ron asked as soon as he slid into the empty seat next to his friends and Harry forced a smile.
"Finally spoke to Madame Pomfrey about my sleeping problems," he replied shortly and Ron looked at him then clapped him on the back.
"Bout bloody time, Mate," he said a little loudly, as professor Flitwick frowned in their directin before continuing his lesson. Ron shrugged sheepishly at Harry, and he gave him a small genuine grin before he turned his attenion on the lesson.
On Friday night, when the newest house exchanges were posted, Harry entered the common room to find Hermione smiling widely at the papers.
"I'm going to Ravenclaw," she told him happily and he smiled at her.
"I bet you'll love it, and they'll love you and we will have to fight to get you back," he told her and Hermiones smiled widened.
Ron moved forward to examine the notice, "So who's taking your place then," he asked then went pale as he read the paper.
"What's wrong mate," Harry asked and Ron looked at him, mouth open and gaping like a fish.
"Oh for goodness sake," Hermione said and moved forward to see what had Ron so shocked.
"Oh," she said quietly and looked over at Harry.
"What?" He asked, frustration seeping through his tone.
"You're going to slytherin," she answered.
"What?" Harry replied and stepped forward to examine to parchment.
'Harry Potter - Slytherin House.'
Harry gulped and turned to look at his friends.
"Snape is going to torture me for a week, isn't he?"