Chapter Eighteen

He spent the remainder of this classes either sitting quietly with Goyle or at the back of the room by himself. Thanks to Snape bringing him his classwork and homework, he was almost fully caught up but for the practical aspects of charms, transfiguration and potions.

Lunch was spent sitting at the Slytherin table, although he simply smiled a greeting at everyone then opened a book to read so he was left alone. If anyone noticed the potions that appeared and were then taken surreptitiously, they didn't say anything and for that Harry was grateful.

Afternoon classes were a little harder as the potions might have helped him eat the food without getting sick,but he still felt uncomfortably heavy and sleepy. He'd have to bring the issue up with Snape or Pomfrey if it got any harder to ignore. Falling asleep in History of Magic was almost expected, but if it happened in a Transfiguration class he'd lose points and end up in front of Snape anyway.

He was just leaving his last class of the day, head bent over his bag as he shoved his unused parchment back in, when a shadow fell over him. Harry looked up startled, but gave a nod when he recognised the witch in front of him.

"Hello, Harry." Hermione said giving him a small smile of her own. "Can we talk?"

Harry nodded his head and indicated that she should lead the way. Hermione moved off with a nod of her head and several minutes later they found themselves in a small alcove by a window that looked out over the greenhouses. Hermione visibly gathered herself then looked Harry in the eye.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she told him then deflated when Harry continued to simply look at her.

"Go on," he finally pushed after several awkward moments of silence. "What exactly are you sorry for?"

"I'm sorry I didn't write to you over the summer. I'm sorry that I failed to see the things right in front of me and I'm sorry I didn't help Ron see how much of a prat he's been."

Harry smiled at the last one but shook his head. "Ron is not your responsibility, 'Mione." she smiled at the nickname that fell from Harry mouth, but shook her head in return.

"It kind of its both our faults, you know. He's not the sharpest tool in the shed unless you're talking strategy, whether its chess or quidditch. He's a prodigy when It comes down to that, but anything else especially emotions, and he might as well be a rock." She reached out to pat Harry gently on his arm, but drew back quickly when he flinched at the light touch.

"I miss you," she said simply and Harry seemed to deflate before he turned and sat on the wide window sill.

"I miss you too," he confessed causing the bushy haired girl to smile widely before she sat next to him.

"I was just so angry and sad about Sirius and I guess I really looked forward to venting to you over he holidays and having you inundate me with so much facts about loss and depression and statistics for this and that, I'd eventually be driven to see reason." He shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess I also hoped Ron would invite me to the burrow once the wards on my uncles house had charged up enough and I'd get to spend some time with people who actually liked me. Then there was nothing and I was so angry and disappointed."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione was clearly trying not to cry. "I am so sorry," she burst out and then leaned forward to pull him into a hug, ignoring his flinch and then squeezing tighter when he finally relaxed into her hold.

"Can you ever forgive me?" she asked when she eventually let go and pulled back.

"I forgave you ages ago, 'Mione, I just hadn't realised it yet." he admitted causing a small giggle to escape the girl before she turned serious eyes back on him.

"What about Ron?" she asked and Harry clenched his jaw and looked out the window.

"I'll be honest," he started, not looking at her, "Ron was the first friend I ever made. I can't imagine having that just mean nothing. But he needs to speak to me himself and he needs to change. I'm hoping to eventually come back to the tower, but I wont forget the friends I've now made in Slytherin. He needs to be open to that."

"I think we all needed to realise that things aren't just going to magically go back to how they were. We all lost trust in each other and it's not going to just come back over night. It needs to be earned again."

He turned to look at her now. "I hope you're willing to try."

"Always, Harry," she told him, finally getting a small smile in return.

"Now," she turned serious, "How are you? You missed a few classes and I saw you taking a potion at breakfast and lunch today." Harry groaned as his friends nosiness reappeared now that she was certain he wasn't going to push her away, but answered her honestly.

"I haven't been well," he explained, "I'll be taking several potions a day for a while yet." She eyed him up and down, taking in his appearance, then pursed her lips.

"You've lost weight," she surmised and he nodded but didn't offer an explanation.

"Are you better now?" she asked when she understood that although he had forgiven her, he obviously wasn't about to confide in her.

"I will be," he answered and she seemed to accept that before going on to tell him all about the latest books she'd been reading in the library.

They remained in the alcove talking about inconsequential things until they realised dinner would begin soon. Harry chose to walk down to the hall alone, but allowed Hermione to give him a another hug without flinching.

It was a lonely couple of days later that found Harry once more in an alcove, window cracked open as much as the safety spells on it would allow and a book in his hands. The book was open, with one finger wedged in between the pages, but he hadn't read a single word since he'd opened it over twenty minutes beforehand.

Instead his gaze was outside, at the blue sky and white fluffy clouds skimming along. He could hear students outside, taking advantage of the weekend and nice weather and he was sorely missing the feel of sunshine on his arms and face. He still wasn't allowed to use glamours, his recent weight loss a danger to his core already, and so stripping down to shirt and trousers like the people he could see from his window was a no-go.

Loneliness enveloped him in a thick cloud, making him feel heavy and more depressed than he had felt in days. The alert charm and scroll lay silent and empty, he hadn't done anything at all in days, not even in his sleep, but he was fighting a serious urge to just chew his cheek to pieces.

He hadn't been in the Slytherin common room for days, despite invitations from Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson, and the time spent on his own was beginning to get to him.

Sudden footsteps very close to his hiding spot had him ripping his gaze from the window in time to see the curtain covering him pulled open a fraction and a familiar red head peeking through.

"Hey," Ron spoke hesitantly and more quietly than Harry had ever heard him. "'Mione said you might be hiding in one of these windows. Can we talk?"

Harry regarded the first friend he had ever made with solemn green eyes for several moments before nodding and moving over on the seat to make space. Ron stepped into the alcove, allowing the curtain to fall back into place before sitting hesitantly.

"Look," he began, "I'm sorry for how we might have handled things this summer and then when we finally got to see you. But I'm not sorry for standing up to you when you were rude to 'Mione."

Harry continued to stare at Ron quietly until the red head flushed, making his freckles fade into the red cheeks.

"I'm not angry because of that Ron." Harry said finally. "I'm angry because I was left alone this summer when I should have been with all of you. I was grieving and scared and lonely and you all chose to listen to Dumbledore when you should have known better. I wasn't asking you to share intimate details in the post, I just wanted to know that someone out there hadn't forgotten about me." Harry took a deep breath and fought back the growing urge to harm himself.

"I just needed to know that when I was finally for released from the Dursleys' for a new school year that I would have my friends standing by me, to give me the strength to get through the summer. Instead I got pitiful excuses and then silence from the few people I actually loved and trusted."

Ron paled at the past tense and opened his mouth to speak, but Harry held his hand up to stop him.

"I told 'Mione that I had already forgiven you. I know that I'm not the only one who had a hard time in the fight in the ministry. I also know you were doing what you believed was best, even if it was misguided. It still stretched out what bonds of trust I had with all of you and it's taken me a little while to realise that I either have to snap those bonds completely and start fresh, or actively work to fix them instead of doing nothing."

Ron ran a hand through his hair, making a mess of it and looked out the window at the people below.

"So we can be friends again?" he asked, "I've missed you, mate."

"I'm not sure," Harry replied, putting his book back in his bag before he stood up. "But I'd like to give it another try." Harry gave Ron one last, small smile before slipping through the curtains and away.

He sat at the Slytherin table again that night, but instead of pulling his book back out of his bag and burying his head in its pages like he had at every meal the last few days, he greeted his friends with a small smile.

To their credit, not one acted like any thing had changed and they merely adjusted their seating and body language to once again include the dark haired boy in their conversations. Harry sent a small, tentative smile in Blaise's direction then blushed red when it was returned.

Ducking his head, he swallowed the potions that appeared to hide his flushed cheeks, then helped himself to some food.

He was invited to the common room again after everyone had eaten, but declined with the excuse of homework to complete and headed back to Snape's rooms.

"You are looking particularly cheerful this evening, Mr Potter," Snape drawled out at the sight of Harry sitting in his usual chair, chewing on a sugar quill whilst reading a text book.

"I've spoken to 'Mione and Ron now and I think maybe it can be good between us again." Harry admitted.

"You do you know that you may never have the same sort of relationship that you did, though?" Snape asked more gently than Harry would have thought possible a year ago.

"I know," he shrugged his shoulders then smirked at the professor when he growled lowly. "But I miss them."

"You were practically glued at the hips," Snape gave Harry a smirk of his own, causing the boys smile to widen then fall.

"What is it, Mr Potter?" Snape questioned, noting the sudden change in him.

"Were we though?" he asked and Snape raised an eyebrow in silent question.

"Glued at the hip?" Harry elaborated. "I mean, you're right, we were closer than I'd ever been to anyone else, but how close were we really? I never shared anything really personal with them and beyond a few questions in first year, they never asked." Harry fidgeted with his sugar quill before putting in down on the table in front of him.

"The signs were there, clues that maybe things weren't what they appeared, and they knew some of what was going on because they would send me food and things. Hell, Ron pulled the bars of my window in second year."

"Language, Mr Potter." Snape responded, causing Harry to look at him, annoyance showing clearly on his face.

"You did hide it well," Snape pointed out and Harry grimaced. "It is also very likely that in coming from the loving homes they do, that it was hard for them to conceive even the little bit of abuses they were aware of. In their simple minded naivete, they may have thought that the little they knew was as bad as it could possibly get. Their smaller world views simply not preparing them for a worse home life than they already thought you experienced."

Snape summoned a house elf and ordered tea for the both of them and then settled back into his chair with it once it arrived before continuing.

"You also, I imagine, were stubbornly persistent that all was fine in the world and that the safety the blood wards provided beat out any and all abuses. Am I correct?"

Harry blushed and took several large sips from his tea before he responded.

"i guess you're right," he confessed, "I did always tell them to leave it alone." Guilt coursed through him when he realised that part of his anger towards them for never noticing anything was wrong was unfair and Snape seemed to realised that.

"You were justified in your anger, Harry." he told him gently. "Perhaps not in your actions or behavior, but your feelings are your own to experience how ever you need to." Snape finished his drink and stood.

"Go to bed, Mr Potter, I am sure you can seek your friends out tomorrow and have a good talk with them, if you wish."

It wasn't until Harry was lying in his bed that he realised Snape had called him Harry again.

"Freak!" his uncle roared and Harry sat up in bed, heart racing hard and breath shallow.

"Freak!" his uncle called again and Harry fell from his bed in a mess of ragged blankets with a loud thud. He untangled himself from the blankets in time for his uncle to come slamming into his room, door bouncing harshly of the wall and leaving a hole where the door handle hit.

"What did I tell you?" he roared again and Harry instinctively flinched back and held his arms up to cover his head protectively.

"I...I don't know, Uncle Vernon," he managed to stutter out, only enraging his uncle more with his mumbles.

"I told you no mumbo jumbo nonsense in my house and then you go and ruin, RUIN I tell you, her prized roses." he thundered at Harry and raised a fist.

"I don't..." Harry managed to get out before a beefy fist fell down on the arm in front of his face, hitting it hard enough that it was pushed forward into his nose and causing a spray of blood to burst out.

His uncle, on seeing that several specks of blood had made their way to speckle the white work shirt he wore, stepped forward and bashed Harry around the back of his head several times.

Harry fought off the darkness that threatened his vision and managed to crab crawl out from his uncles clutches and push himself against his wall. Blood still flowed from his nose and knowing if he got any on the carpet he would be dead he quickly bunched his shirt up and shoved it over his nose, hissing at the pain the actions caused.

"I didn't do anything to the rose, except prune them," he managed to get out around his throbbing nose and aching head.

"Liar!" his uncle screamed and approached him again, fists not raised but still clenched by his sides. "Dudley saw you out there, mumbling nonsense just yesterday and now they are DEAD!"

"Up! Boy! Come and see what you've done." Vernon pulled Harry roughly to his feet then proceeded to haul him down the stairs by his hair, causing the pain in his head from the bashing to be triple fold.

Once they were outside in the gray light of a cool summers morning, Harry was able to see just what his uncle was talking about. The rose bushes he'd tended to just yesterday were now sickly and brown and surrounded by withered, fallen roses.

He was dead. It didn't matter if this was some sort of accidental magic or if something else had happened, he was dead. Still dragged over by his hair, his uncle pushed him to his knees in front of one of the bushes and then kicked him hard in the back until he fell forward.

Dead or not, it still held sharp thorns that dug into his hands and arms, then his face and he was kicked again.

"What did you do?" Vernon whispered. They were outside now, he coudn't yell, it would draw attention from the neighbors.

"N...Nothing," he stammered out from his spot lying among the thorny dead branches.

"You will remove every plant from this garden that you destroyed, then you will walk to the garden centre to purchase more. You will not eat for a long time to pay for the costs of the new plants." His uncle whispered then kicked him in the back before grinding his foot down and pushing Harry further into the sharp thorny branches beneath him.

A last kick to the head and his uncle stormed back inside. A whistle brought his attention to Dudley standing by the shed, and through his hazy vision he could just make out his cousin holding up a can of poison. He passed out to the sounds of his cousins laughter.

Harry woke sweating and pulling sharply at his hair, attempting to draw in breaths of air. Snape entered his room and he could vaguely hear the sound of the alert charm going off.

"Calm down, Mr Potter, it was a dream, and you are awake now." Snape spoke quietly and calmly and eventually Harry was able to calm down and breathe a little easier.

"Not a dream," he mumbled, causing Snape to raise an eyebrow.

"Not a dream," he repeated, "A memory." A stinging in his arms had him glancing down with dismay at several long red lines in the flesh.

"I haven't done that in days," he whispered, anger and sadness coating his words thickly.

"Do not be disheartened," Snape told him, "I am not expecting an easy recovery and neither should you be. You were asleep and unaware of your actions."

Harry just shrugged his shoulders and drew his blankets up to cover himself, despite the heavy layer of sweat coating his body. Snape raised his wand and a minute later the sweat was removed and Harry felt a little better.

Thirty minutes later, Harry had shared his memory and drunk a small cup of hot chocolate. His heart rate had finally dropped back to normal and his eyes were drooping with exhaustion.

Snape stood and banished their glasses to the kitchen. "Go back to sleep, Mr Potter. It is still relatively early in the morning and as tomorrow is a Sunday I am not opposed to either of us having a small lie in."

Harry managed a small smile and snuggled down into his blankets and was asleep soon after.

When he did eventually wake again and force himself up, he washed quickly in the shower, avoiding looking at his arms. Snape was already sitting in the living area with two breakfast trays in front of him and Harry's usual potions when he eventually made his way in search of food.

They ate in a comfortable silence and then Harry excused himself to go off in search of his friends. It was early enough that breakfast would still be available in the great hall and so he made his way there first. His instincts were right, as both Ron and Hermione were sitting at the half empty Gryffindor table.

Hermione was reading a newspaper and Ron was busy stuffing as many pancakes in his mouth that would fit, so Harry was almost on top of them by the time they noticed him. He gave them both a shy smile and sat on the bench next to Hermione and across from Ron.

"Harry!" Hermione greeted him happily.

"Hey Mate!" Ron looked up from his food to give him a large grin.

"Hey, guys," Harry replied quietly and reached over to pour himself a cup of tea.

"You want some breakfast, mate?" Ron asked and Harry shook his head.

"No, I ate earlier," he explained. Ron opened his mouth clearly to ask questions, but Hermione must have kicked him under the table, because he shoveled a forkful of food in instead. Harry looked at Hermione gratefully.

"I was wondering if we could talk?" he asked when he'd finished his drink and Ron looked to finally be done.

They both nodded and all three teens stood and left the hall in search of a private space. They settled on an empty classroom not far from the great hall and once the door was closed, Hermione pulled out her wand and cast several privacy spells on the door and windows.

"I just wanted to explain some things," Harry told his friends when they were finally all siting in some chairs they'd found in the room.

"I still think I was justified in my anger at you guys for not writing to me over the summer. But I also think maybe I could have written and told you how and why I was feeling the way I was. I never really gave you guys a chance." Harry confessed and looked down at his hands, playing with the cuff of his school robe while he waited for them to respond.

"Oh, Harry." Hermione murmured before leaning forward to pull him into a hug.

"i think we are all at fault here. We all behaved immaturely and not very much like 'the golden trio' as we should have. It's in the past, I think we should leave it there. We're all sorry and if we just keep dwelling on what we could have done, rather than what we can do now, we'll never mend this friendship.

Ron nodded his head to Hermione's speech and caused Harry to smile.

"You're right 'Mione, but if you think there's something you need to know, ask now." Harry told her, then braced himself for the usual onslaught of Hermione's interrogations.

She was silent for several long moments before she sat back in her seat and really seemed to take in his appearance.

"I won't lie, Harry, there is a lot of questions running through my head at the moment. Like what happened when you ended up hiding in a closet in the hospital wing, or why are you still in snape's rooms and not the Slytherin dorm, or what other things you're hiding from us."

Hermione smiled and looked over at Ron. "But we talked about it last night and we decided that it wasn't our right to push for those answers, or even ask them, and that if you need to keep these secrets, it's okay with us. I just want to ask one question, and it's an intrusive one, so really we don't deserve an answer to it either. But I have to ask."

Harry looked at Hermione and Ron and their serious expressions and forced his shoulders back in preparation. "What?"

"Are you safe?" Hermione asked, then seemed to hold her breath for Harry's answer.

"I wasn't," he admitted after a moments silence, "but right now I am safer than I have been for a very long time." They both exhaled deeply in relief and Hermione offered him a smile.

"Maybe, eventually, I'll be able to share more with you," Harry offered in thanks to their not pushing and Ron gave him a smile as large as Hermione's.

"Well, now the heavy stuff is over, let me tell you about all the things Seamus has managed to blow up since you've been gone." Harry huffed out a laugh and felt his body relax further as Ron rambled on.

He had a huge smile on his face as he made his way back to Snapes quarters after lunch in the great hall with Hermione and Ron. He'd waved to his Slytherin friends, most of whom had simply raised an eyebrow at the sight of him at the Gryffindor table and then offered small smiles.

He decided to work on an essay in charms that was due Thursday and so headed straight for his bedroom and school bag. He'd pulled out the required text book and ink and quill and was searching for a blank sheet of parchment when his hand brushed against a ball of scrunched up paper.

Curious, he pulled it out and unfolded it before he paled and dropped the sheet on his bed.

'You will get yours eventually, boy-who-lived-to-die.'