Chapter Twelve

The day moved fairly quickly with Harry attending his classes and ensuring he did not lose any points or was late to class or meals. He didn't want Snape to have any excuse to hang around once he'd moved back to the tower.

Despite having spent a week in the common room, it was still a little daunting to enter it Friday night after dinner and find it relatively empty and very quiet. Snape was there too, doing his usual rounds of talking to students and Harry frowned when Snape spied him in the doorway and headed over before Harry could make it to his dorm room.

"Mr Potter, just the person I was hoping to see." Harry grimaced and as Blaise moved off to give them some privacy he gave Harry a wink behind the professors back. Harry smiled at him in return, causing Snape's eyes to narrow in suspicion for a moment.

"I think it best if we move to my office, Mr Potter." he told Harry and left the common room before Harry could respond. He rolled his eyes and followed reluctantly after, trailing him in silence until they reached the office and the door was secured behind them.

"Take a seat," Snape told him and indicated the hard backed chair in front of his desk. Harry sat and watched as Snape moved around his desk and took a seat in his own chair opposite Harry.

"Before I begin, show me your arms," Snape told him and Harry fought another eye roll before rolling his sleeves up to his arm pits. The cuts he'd made a week ago were fading, thanks to Snape's potions, and joined the other scars in a sea of silver and white and Harry pulled his sleeves down as soon as he could.

"Thank you, Mr Potter," Snape said and Harry looked up from staring at his hands in surprise, an action Snape chose to ignore as he continued. "I can only imagine the blow it must be to your pride and privacy to come here nightly and reveal the proof of your...difficulties. I am however, going to insist you keep doing so."

When Harry opened his mouth to protest, Snape held his hand up to silence him. "I am not naive nor stupid, Mr Potter. This addiction, like any addiction, can be difficult to beat and it would be of no surprise if you were to relapse and repeat the actions in a fit of pique."

Harry's frown deepened at Snape's choice in words, but since he couldn't honestly say he would never do it again, and he was sure if he tried Snape would know immediately that he was lying, Harry chose instead to keep his mouth shut and just glare at the professor.

"That being said, I will remind you that it does not need to be me giving you the inspection. Madame Pomfrey could inspect you as well." Harry nodded his head and stood up.

"Can I go now?" he asked sullenly and Snape inclined his head.

"Very well," he answered and Harry almost ran to the door in his eagerness to leave. Just as he reached the handle, Snape spoke once more. "You may be returning to the tower tomorrow, Mr Potter, but my office will be here should you need something."

Harry's jaw dropped at the almost friendly tone in the professor's words and left the office before he could make a fool out of himself. When he reached the Slytherin common room, he found Blaise set up in a corner with what was probably the only overly comfortable chairs in the whole room and a chess board all set up.

"Hey," he greeted, "thought we could have a last game before you returned to that atrociously decorated common room of yours tomorrow." Harry smiled and sat down.

"Sure, but don't forget, you're an honorary Gryffindor, you're welcome in our common room now."

"And you in ours," Blaise returned and both boys shared a smile before settling into their game. Several games later and Harry had even managed to win one and they were both ready for bed. They stood together in the bathroom as they brushed their teeth and when Blaise hip checked Harry he was happy to find his cheeks didn't burn bright red, and instead he was able to push Blaise away with his own hip.

He was smiling when he climbed into bed and closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Several hours later he woke, throat dry and sore and stomach swirling with nausea and he barrelled from his bed noisily to slam into the bathroom. He hastily moved into a cubicle and slammed the door shut, falling to his knees hard enough that he was sure there would be bruises.

Dinner was soon floating in the bowl in front of him and tears dripped from his eyes from the memory of the dream and the violence of his heaving. He heard Blaise knock on the door and call out, but was only able to groan in response before he leant back over the bowl and vomited again.

"Harry," he heard the stall door crack open and then the sound of Blaise inhaling loudly. Unsure what the issue was, but finished throwing up for now, he closed the toilet lid and flushed before turning a little to lean against the wall. Blaise stood in the doorway with his glasses clenched in his hand and a face pale with shock.

"I didn't..." he started and Harry looked at him, "I mean, I saw the hand, and I thought... but I didn't..." he mumbled out and Harry frowned in confusion before holding his hand up impatiently for his glasses.

"What are you on about," he snapped, stomach in pain from the harsh muscle contractions he'd just experienced and head pounding too hard to think.

"What happened to your feet?" Blaise asked and Harry looked puzzled for a second before understanding lit his face and panic took over.

"You can't say anything," he told Blaise, sensing the de ja vu in the situation. "It's fine, I'm fine," he told the Slytherin and Blaise backed up out of the cubicle to lean against the sinks.

"Harry," he started and Harry shook his head vigorously.

"No," he said firmly and Blaise wrapped his arms around his body protectively. They were saved from further argument by the sound of Snape's voice in the bedroom talking with Goyle and Crabbe quietly.

"Shit," Harry said, "the stupid fucking wards in this stupid fucking bathroom." Blaise looked at him in some confusion but Harry wasn't really in the mood to explain. Instead he stood and moved out of the stall to wash his face and take several mouthfuls of water. There was a brief knock on the door, then Snape entered, closing it behind himself as soon as he was through.

"Mr Potter, Mr Zabini, which of you was ill just now?" Snape asked, though it was clear the way he was examining Harry that he already knew the answer.

"I had a bad dream," Harry told him petulantly and crossed his arms over his chest. "There was no need to come here, I'm fine now."

"Is that so, Mr Potter?" Harry nodded then growled angrily when Snape turned toward Blaise, ignoring Harry.

"Could you explain how you saw the situation, Mr Zabini?" Snape requested and Blaise looked at Harry quickly before turning away.

"I was woken by a loud thump and sat up in time to see Harry race into the bathroom. All of us could hear him in there though, so I grabbed his glasses for him and came in to see if there was anything I could do to help." Blaise explained and Snape pursed his lips.

"You have been woken like this before," he stated and Blaise looked guilty but nodded.

"When I was in Gryffindor," he told his head of house who nodded.

"Then I have to ask, after witnessing this situation, if you have any concerns you feel may be pertinent." Snape asked while Harry protested.

"I'm right here, ask me that!" he exclaimed. Snape didn't even bothering turning to look at Harry, merely kept his gaze on Blaise while he answered.

"I have recently discovered your penchant to claim you are "fine" in even the most dire of situations so you must forgive me for not taking your answers at face value. Now, Mr Zabini, do you have any concerns?"

Behind Professor Snape, Blaise could see Harry shaking his head and for a second it looked like he wasn't going to say anything, then he looked at Harry and sent him a pleading look of apology.

"Harry had cuts on his knuckles, and I didn't believe the story he told me, but thought maybe he'd punched a tree or something. I mean, we've all done it when we've gotten angry enough and so I didn't push. But then there was chocolate, or blood, on his pyjama shirt, and then his feet and his back and I don't know what to think or do now." Blaise babbled, hyper-ventilating in his panic a little and Snape frowned before conjuring a chair and forcing the Slytherin to take seat.

Harry backed up until he was in the toilet stall again and wedged himself into the back corner, this was not going to end well. He could see Blaise looking at him clearly overwhelmed but just looked back at him blankly before he buried his head into his knees.

"You will need to explain the inane blather you just spouted Mr Zabini, I understood less than half of what you said."

"Harry had what I thought could be blood on his pyjama shirt the other night, and he had strange cuts on his hands, and I just brushed off any suspicions. But Professor, there's cuts all over the bottom of his feet." Blaise told the Professor, his tone giving away just how young and lost he was feeling. Snape looked over to where Harry was wedged into the stall and frowned before turning back to Blaise.

"You also mentioned his back," he pointed out and raised an eye brow when the Slytherin flinched and looked over at Harry with such a sorry look on his face. Snape allowed him a few moments to recollect himself then prodded again.

"Harry has scars all over his back," he finally spat out, guilt clearly etched into his face in the frown on his forehead and the wrinkles around his down turned mouth.

Snape's eyebrows couldn't get any higher. "Did he explain the existence of these scars?" he pushed and Blaise nodded his head but refused to say any more. He'd done enough damage to his friendship tonight, he wasn't going to share anything else.

"Very well, I have ordered hot chocolate for you, it is by your bed. I suggest you drink it, then place a silencing charm on your hangings and go back to sleep. There is little more that you can do and it is very early." Blaise nodded and reluctantly stood up, throwing Harry one last look of apology before leaving the room.

"I suggest you remove yourself from that corner before I am forced to remove you," Snape said to Harry and then waited several minutes for him to respond. When he finally uncurled and stood up to shuffle from the stall his eyes were red rimmed and his cheeks splotched. His wet eye lashes framed his wide green eyes and showed his true age and Snape felt the ridiculous urge to pull the wretched thing into a hug.

Instead he used his wand to point Harry to the chair Blaise had abandoned, then conjured another for himself.

"I honestly do not know where to begin," Mr Potter.

"Then don't," Harry croaked in response, "just leave me alone."

"You know I can't do that," Snape told the boy, " particularly after Mr Zabini's revelations. I cannot be sure you will not cause even further harm to yourself." Harry flinched when Snape correctly guessed what would happen and fought more tears that threatened to fall.

"We will do this right, Mr Potter. You will accompany me to the hospital wing once more, and won't Poppy be impressed at the early hour, and we will examine you and treat any wounds, then discuss with Albus just who we can bring in to get your head put back on right."

Harry shrunk down in his chair and refused to move until Snape waved his wand in an unfamiliar gesture then headed towards the door. Harry felt a sharp tug on his wrist and was powerless to fight the urge to follow his professor. When he grunted in confusion and annoyance, Snape turned to smile at him.

"A tethering spell," he explained, "for unruly children." he smirked at Harry.

Unable to fight the spell and alternating between utter terror and the dissociation he often sought now, Harry followed Snape out of the bathroom. Thankfully all the boys were back in their beds with their curtains drawn and Harry was able to pretend they were asleep and knew nothing about what was going on.

Before they left, Snape accioed a pair of Harry's socks and waited while he pulled them on.

For the third time in less than a month, Harry was once again walked to the hospital wing in the middle of the night and in utter silence. Snape sent his patronus off while they were still traversing the halls, so that by the time they reached the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey was already there.

There were two occupied beds tonight and Harry scowled and moved quickly over to the bed he liked best. Snape and Madame Pomfrey followed him without a word and once he was seated Madame Pomfrey shut the curtains and cast several privacy spells whilst Snape released the tether spell.

"Disrobe," Snape told him once all the spells were cast and Harry glared at him.

"It's my feet," he said exasperated, "I don't need to undress so you can look at my bloody feet."

"Mr Zabini also mentioned something about your back, Mr Potter. I also hate to presume but feel I am safe in doing so, and feel I am correct in saying that it is not 'just your feet'."

Throwing daggers at the professor, Harry stood back off the bed and pulled his pyjamas off until he was standing in his underwear. The glamour held on the rest of his body, though his arms were obviously showing.

"Sit," Snape told him and he did so with a frustrated huff of breath. Madame Pomfrey remained silent until he was settled back on the pillows then moved round to stand at the foot of the bed, where she grabbed one of Harry's feet and removed the sock.

"Really, Mr Potter," she said and glared up at Harry, " on your feet?" Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"Thought they wouldn't be seen," he explained and Snape moved around the bed to examine the foot Madame Pomfrey was holding. Harry knew it looked a little mangled, much as his other one did, but it wasn't easy to cut on the bottom on one's foot and he'd done it a few times over the last week.

Madame Pomfrey silently slathered his feet in a thick yellow potion and then put his socks back on, causing Harry to grimace as the cream was squished between his toes.

Both Madame Pomfrey and Professor Snape moved to stand either side of Harry's bed and looked down at him.

"Now your glamours, Mr Potter," Madame Pomfrey said. "Remember, it may feel a little uncomfortable." Harry shook his head and moved up as close to the head of the bed as he could, drawing his knees into his chest and pushing his back against the bars of the head rest. He was ignored.

"Finite Incantatum,"Madame Pomfrey intoned three times in a row and despite Harry's best efforts to hold onto them, he felt the strange tingle run all over his body and knew every single glamour he'd had was gone.

"Well, at least it looks like you've gained some weight," Madame Pomfrey was grim as she took in what she could see of Harry's calves and thighs. "Lie straight please, Harry," she told him and when he ignored her Snape stepped forward to force his hands away from his knees and push on his shoulder until he lay down.

He was angry and scared and humiliated and to add to everything he could feel tears forming in his eyes and was helpless to stop them. The two adults examined Harry silently, taking in the numerous cuts and scars lining Harry's legs and the few on his stomach and extending out from the elastic of his boxers.

"None of these seem to need dressing too badly but for a couple on your hips, but there is scarring that is years old, as the ones on your arms. How did you manage to hide these the first time I examined you?" Madame Pomfrey asked.

"I just focussed on letting you see my arms and leaving the rest glamoured," Harry admitted and Madame Pomfrey pursed her lips before rubbing the same yellow potion on his feet into the cuts by his hipbone.

"The evidence in front of us speaks of years of this behaviour, Mr Potter, just how long exactly has this been going on?" Snape asked as he examined Harry's thighs.

Feeling helpless and overwhelmed and knowing the questions were only bound to get harder to answer, Harry decided he could at least give Snape this one.

"Since I was eleven," he confessed and watched both adults pale. Madame Pomfrey's lips pursed so far they were almost non-existent and Snape's eyebrows were half way up his brow. Harry felt a bubble of hysterical laughter form and was unable to keep it from erupting out briefly.

Madame Pomfrey summoned a vial and offered it to Harry, "a calming draught," she explained and he reached for it without hesitation. Before the potion could begin to work Snape told him to lean forward so they could examine his back and Harry felt his heart start to race. Within seconds he was gasping for breath in a complete panic.

"Mr Potter!" Madame Pomfrey scolded but was unable to get through to him. When she reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, he reacted instinctively. He shot up off the bed and raced towards the exit despite the fact he was practically naked. Snape was too quick though and shot off a spell, locking the doors and thus locking him in.

This further panicked Harry, he was no longer thinking clearly. A quick look around the room and he was barrelling his way towards a large storage cabinet near the small bathroom. The door was unlocked and he was inside and surrounded by spare healers' robes and hospital pyjamas before either of the adults could stop him.

The door was still open, but Harry was too hysteric to do anything but try and draw in breath. He could hear Madame Pomfrey and Snape arguing loudly and forced himself to focus on the sound of their voices and not the terror racing through his veins.

His hands scrabbled around in the small space pulling at his hair and scratching at the back of his neck and the pain helped ground him further.

By the time a third voice had joined the conversation the panic attack had receded enough that he could feel his cheeks heating at his actions. There was no way he was coming out of the cupboard though, he'd just stay in here forever.

"Harry, my boy, why don't you come out of there?" Harry heard Dumbledore approach the cupboard and pulled his legs in even further, burying his head in his knees and trying to block out the sound of the headmaster's voice.

"Come on, Mr Potter, you cannot remain in the cupboard the whole night." Madame Pomfrey huffed out and Harry shook his head even though he knew no one could see what he was doing. The calming potion was finally starting to work though, and as the adrenaline slowly left his body, Harry could feel himself crashing.

Reluctantly he crawled from the cupboard and tried to stand, but felt his knees buckle beneath him. Before he could fall however, Snape reached out and grasped his elbow roughly, pursing his lips when he got close enough to see the scratches Harry had inflicted on his neck.

Harry had moved two steps away from the cupboard when he heard a loud gasp from behind him and it was with Madame Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore staring horrified at his back that he remembered why he'd crawled into the cupboard in the first place. Snape must have sensed his intentions to crawl back in, as his grip on his arm tightened further and Harry was lead back over to his bed.

The other adults followed and as soon as they stepped far enough in, Madame Pomfrey re-drew the curtains around his bed.

"Don't move please, Harry," she asked, although Harry was aware enough to be angry that it wasn't really a request but a suggestion. Dumbledore had paused right by the curtains and continued to eye Harry with an expression of horror, all eye twinkling completely supressed.

Angry now at the whole situation and fuzzy headed and tired, Harry crossed his arms over his chest and turned his back to them all. They could look all they liked and he would ignore them for as long as he liked. He flinched when a finger reached out and traced one of the scars that he knew criss-crossed the entire back half of his body.

Most would be faded silver and purple, but he knew the ones his uncle had inflicted less than a month ago would still be a pale red/pink colour and be completely obvious that he continued to be whipped even now.

He stood like that, with his back to everyone and his arms crossed across his chest for several minutes, and even when he felt Madame Pomfrey treating the small welts he'd just given himself, he continued to ignore them.

"You can lie down now, if you like, Harry" Madame Pomfrey finally told him and without a word Harry clambered into the bed and lay on his side, pulling his knees into his chest and hiding his face once more.

"How long?" Snape asked and Harry lifted his head to eye the professor, a mirthless laugh on his lips.

"Since I was eleven," he said, then hid his face again and refused to answer any more questions. His limbs were heavy with fatigue and his head thick with emotions and he squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could fall asleep for just a little while and stop hearing the adults talking about him.

"What happened, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.

"My ward alarm went off again and I found him in the bathroom with Blaise Zabini, clearly having just vomited. He tried to play it off as nothing, but when questioned, Zabini admitted to having seen cuts on the bottom of Potter's feet and mentioned seeing whip marking on his back."

"I brought him here and it was discovered that he had been applying and maintaining a full body glamour to hide years of self-injury." Snape paused for a moment and then continued.

"Poppy and I examined the injuries to determine whether they needed treatment and Potter was obviously angry and upset but stayed relatively calm. It was only when we asked him to reveal his back that he truly panicked and this led to his flight into the cupboard."

"Years, Albus, he has been hiding those scars for years!" Madame Pomfrey exclaimed. "All the times I had him in here and I knew nothing!"

"Do not be too hard on yourself Poppy, you couldn't have known and people in Harry's situation are experts at hiding what they do not want to be found. It is also clear by the evidence, that this summer's abuse is where the worse of the scarring comes from." Professor Snape spoke gently to the medi-witch and Harry rolled his eyes at the gently tone coming from the stern professor.

"I just..." Madame Pomfrey started but drifted off before she finished.

"Go back to bed, Poppy." Harry heard Dumbledore tell Madame Pomfrey. "It's still quite late, or early, and there will be much to do in the morning. I will sit with our young charge here until you return." Harry could hear Madame Pomfrey begin to argue, but she was shushed and Harry couldn't hear what Dumbledore murmured to her. A minute later Harry heard the doors open and close.

"You too, Severus, my boy. You will have much to do too, I am sure. Try and get a little more sleep."

"What about you?" Snape questioned. "You don't believe you will have a lot to complete once the day officially dawns?"

"I am an old man, Severus, I need little sleep." Harry could hear the smile in Dumbledore's voice before it was replaced with a wan tone. "Go. I will keep my eye on him."

Harry heard the door open and close and then Dumbledore's footsteps as he approached the bed. A chair was summoned and Harry heard him settle noisily, but still jumped when the hand landed on his shoulder.

"You sleep, too, Harry my dear, today will be exhausting for all."

Harry wanted to sit up and yell and swear and throw things before escaping the hospital wing and just run, but he felt so heavy and his eyes were tight and sore and his mind a fog. He closed his eyes and was soon asleep, feeling Dumbledore place a blanket over him just before he slipped under.