A/N: Welcome back guys! This chapter took a little bit longer than the previous ones, partially because my big bad beta was giving me a bit of a hard time. But rightfully so. And you have him to thank for this chapter being 2000 words longer than they usually are.
My pleasant things in ashes lie
And them behold no more shall I.
Chapter 13
Harry was already awake, lying quietly in his bed while he waited for the Slytherins to wake up. It was difficult to sleep and the night had already been full of turmoil. Not because of nightmares but because of the musings that kept invading his mind every time he was trying to clear it of all thoughts. They assaulted him from the darkness as if they were trying to get him to relive his entire childhood in the span of one night. It was exhausting.
Malfoy and his goons hadn't bothered him since he got back. They hadn't said a single word to him but clearly their attitude did not come from malice this time. It came from fear. And Harry knew that Snape had probably talked to them. That – at least – was one upside, Harry supposed. He could only imagine how long this new behaviour would last.
Daphne had tried approaching him but he had just walked away. After that, she didn't try anymore. She simply went to sit by the hearth with her friends as if nothing was amiss, not even glancing at Harry a second time. That was fine by him. If she was trying to make him feel guilty for not acknowledging her, it was not working. It wasn't! She had betrayed him. Handed him over to Snape on a silver platter. And for what? Did she know why he had to go to the hospital wing? She probably knew about the check-ups but surely she should've understood why Harry didn't trust Snape. She knew very well what she was doing and that Harry would not forgive her for her violation of his trust. Not immediately anyways. But… he could really use some friends now.
The rustling of bedsheets alerted Harry to the awakening of Malfoy. He turned his head to look at the dark silhouette he could vaguely see through the creases of his curtain. The blond seemed to sit upright in his bed, not really moving. Harry got the distinct feeling that the Slytherin was staring in his direction but there was no way of knowing for certain without making it known that he was awake as well. And he just wanted to be left alone for now.
Then, one by one, the other boys woke up and they all seemed to be getting ready for the day. Harry knew that he was supposed to do the same. That Snape's rules said that he needed to go to breakfast and he needed to do so accompanied by other Slytherins. But Snape be damned. He had uncovered Harry's deepest and darkest secrets. Seen his pain, fear and doubts. Harry felt as if the man had zipped open his skin and crawled inside to investigate everything that made him tick only to leave him behind without putting things back where they belonged.
Snape could give him a detention for the rest of the year for all he cared. For now, he would just stay in bed.
His roommates all seemed to leave except for one who lingered behind. He seemed to be standing there for the longest time while Harry was just waiting for him to leave so he could go back to wallowing in his misery in peace. But then the silhouette came closer and went to stand at Harry's bedside.
"Potter,"
It was Malfoy's voice. Now what? Harry didn't answer.
"Potter, I know you're awake," Malfoy said. "Your breathing speaks for itself."
Harry supposed he couldn't outsmart those Slytherin wiles. "What do you want?" he sighed and then "Hey!" when Malfoy opened his curtains without so much as a 'by your leave'.
Malfoy threw a heavy book in his lap and Harry frowned when he read the title. 'Robes and garments for the fashionable wizard'.
"Malfoy," he growled. "If you've come here to mock me, I'm not in the mood today."
"I'm not mocking you, Potter," Malfoy said and Harry noticed that he was trying to keep his voice neutral. "But I feel less than proud of my actions from a while ago. It was quite mugglish behaviour of me to resort to destruction of property."
"Okay?" Harry said warily.
Malfoy adjusted his stance and clasped his hands behind his back as if he was hiding behind a mask of formality. "I would very much like to beg your forgiveness ," he said. "And by means of reparations, I'd like for you to pick out an entirely new wardrobe from his catalogue. It is my family's favourite establishment for wizarding wear and I'd like to share its splendour with you. Your books will be compensated as well, of course."
Harry couldn't believe he said all of that with a straight face. He also couldn't believe that he was serious. But he suspected that Snape uncovered far more of Malfoy's wrongdoings than simply the small show of force from earlier and maybe this was part of Malfoy's punishment? Or maybe he was trying to appease Snape.
He opened the book at a random page and his eyes nearly bulged out of his skull when he saw the prices.
"I'm sure Hogwarts didn't pay for clothes of this er… calibre, Malfoy." Harry said. "If you feel the need to replace my clothes, just get me the exact same ones."
"That won't do," Malfoy replied, sounding quite offended. "I need to make things right and I can't do so by buying you more of those… rags. With or without your input, I will order you clothes from this catalogue. So you can either pick out your favourites and mark them with your quill, or I'll be picking for you. My favourite colours are green and silver, by the way."
"Ugh fine," Harry said. "If you insist. Now get out, please."
"No," Malfoy said. "You will be coming to breakfast."
"I don't think that I will be," Harry said. He was starting to get upset about Malfoy's insistence. "You didn't care before so there's no need to care now. Even if Snape lectured you or something."
"He didn't," Malfoy said easily. "Not a word. In fact, I haven't even seen him since lunch yesterday."
Well that didn't quite add up, did it? "Really," Harry said. "Then why would you be acting all nice now?"
A jolt shocked Harry to his core. Did Malfoy know about his past? Did someone blab? Did Dumbledore make a general announcement? Maybe the Slytherins had found a way to listen in to his medical exam. Maybe Daphne heard everything and told Malfoy and his goons what was up. He jumped up from his bed and grabbed Malfoy by the collar, pushing him so hard that he slammed with his back against the wall. "Tell me," he said dangerously, though he felt his voice quiver. "What is your game? What do you know?!"
"Nothing!" Malfoy said, slapping Harry's hands away. "Sheesh Potter, let go. Professor Snape didn't talk to me yet but he did talk to Crabbe and Goyle and I just know I'm next. Can't blame a guy for trying to make that particular encounter go a bit more smoothly."
Surprised, Harry let go. "Oh."
"I should say so," Malfoy said. He made a show of straightening his collar back into its perfect position. "But now I wonder what it is that you don't want me to know about. Does it have anything to do with how Professor Snape found out about our… encounters? Whatever else you may be, you never struck me as a snitch, forgive me the horrible wordplay. You are a Gryffindor through and through, after all."
Merlin, Malfoy was sharp. Much too sharp for Harry's liking. If Daphne told the blond that she had dumped him at the medical wing, he would have all the pieces of the puzzle, wouldn't he?
"It doesn't matter," Harry said. "Sorry for pushing you. Now go away before you get into even more trouble."
"Citing my earlier reason as my motivation, I'll have you know that I insist on taking you to breakfast."
"And I insist on staying in bed," Harry snarled. "We aren't friends and I sure as hell don't trust you so get out!"
Malfoy raised his hands trying to placate Harry. "My, touchy, aren't we?" he said. "I think you would do well to accept my offer of friendship this time, Potter. Your stay in Slytherin will be a lot more comfortable if you do."
"This time?" Harry echoed. "Are you still hung up on me not accepting your venom first year? Come on."
Malfoy kept his face neutral. He was really trying, Harry noticed. The problem was, to what end? Ron had been right. Slytherins always operate with a second agenda in mind. "There's no need for your hostility, Potter," Malfoy said. "It's understandable, of course, but you won't be able to goad me into attacking you in any sense of the word."
"No, you're too scared of Snape, aren't you?" Harry spat.
"Quite so," Malfoy admitted easily. "Now, I'll be straight with you. You will be coming with me either way. Vincent and Gregory are waiting for me downstairs. If you don't come of your own volition, they will be taking you. Gently, of course."
"You wouldn't," Harry said.
"Oh but I would," Malfoy replied. "I don't make empty threats. Let that be a lesson in Slytherin, Potter. Never threaten someone with something you're not willing to go through with or something you don't have."
At this point, this entire interaction had been far too exhausting for Harry's liking. He supposed that it would be a lot less effort to actually go to the great hall and eat a piece of toast than to continue and have this discussion with Malfoy. It was Sunday so afterwards he could still go back and lounge in his bed all day.
"Fine," he conceded. "But if you try anything, I will go to Snape. Gryffindor or not."
Malfoy smiled thinly. "I suppose you're becoming more Slytherin by the day." And didn't Harry just hate the truth in that statement.
They were a bit late Harry noticed. Most Slytherins were already close to done. He chanced a glance at the teachers' table and saw that Snape wasn't even there. So they made this great show for no reason.
"Don't believe for one second that Professor Snape doesn't know if you attended breakfast even if he wasn't here," Malfoy assured him. "The prefects are dutybound to share the happenings outside of our dorms with him."
"Why not the stuff that happens inside?" Harry asked.
"I suppose he awards us a bit of freedom here and there," Malfoy said. "He still needs to be able to take things away in case of illicit activities, right?"
Harry was now entirely done with this particular snake.
"Bye, Malfoy."
"Enjoy your meal, Potter," Malfoy replied pleasantly and Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes. What a prick.
"I didn't think you were still coming, Harry," Fred said when Harry took his seat.
"And since Snape isn't here either we suspected he was mincing you into potions ingredients," George added.
"Not me," Harry said, grabbing a single piece of toast. "But he might be coming after you soon."
"Me?" Fred and George said simultaneously. "Or us?"
"Both of you probably," Harry said and he lowered his voice. "He knows."
"You're going to have to be a bit more specific, Harrykins," Fred said lightly.
"The check-up," Harry mouthed, really not wanting Malfoy to find out.
"Oooooh," Fred and George said in unison.
"Oh well," said George. "It could be worse."
"Yeah," Fred agreed. "Don't worry about it Harry. I just hope for you Snape didn't get his hands on information he can use against you."
Harry sighed. "Yeah, I really hope so too."
"Are you ready to talk yet, Harry?" a pleasant voice asked. Harry recognised it immediately as Daphne's.
"I don't know, Greengrass," Harry said venomously. "How much of our conversation will be passed along to Snape?"
"None of it, most likely," Daphne said. "Come now. You can't be too upset with me. I arranged something for you."
"Whatever it is, I don't want it," Harry said.
"Harry, that's no way to talk to a lady," Fred chided.
"Even if you're the chosen one, you still need to woo them," George agreed. He then turned to Daphne, much to Harry's chagrin. "Forgive my silly friend, milady. He doesn't know a good thing when he trips and falls head-first into it."
"Oh, it is no problem," Daphne said. "He is quite right to be upset with me. I simply request a chance for reconciliation."
"Granted!" George said. "You're free today, right Harry?"
"Stop it, George," Harry urged.
George frowned. He finally seemed to sense Harry's mood since he didn't push the issue further. "Speaking of other things," he said. "Are you thinking of trying out for the team?"
"The team?" Harry asked, glad for the change of topic.
"The quidditch team, of course," Fred clarified. "What else?"
"They're not going to replace any of their players for us, I don't think," Harry said.
"Either way, a couple of spots have opened up," Fred said. "And it just so happens to be the spots the three of us usually have."
"What?" Harry asked. "How?"
"How indeed," George said. "It seems that old Snapey is quite angry with his star player and assorted goons."
"Oh sure," Fred said. "You missed it but he came into the common room all angry like and took Crabbe and Goyle with him for a while."
George nodded. "When he got back, he said that them and Malfoy were banned from quidditch this year and that all applicants for their positions should apply next Sunday on the quidditch pitch."
"It's divine providence!" Frey exclaimed. "No offense Crabbe." Crabbe just looked away, seeming decidedly gloomy. "Two beaters and a seeker position. It couldn't be more perfect!"
"Wow," Harry said. "I can't believe they got banned. That seems… excessive."
"Ooooh," Fred said. "So you know what they did, do you?" He wrapped one arm around Harry's shoulders in a chummy hug. "Do tell."
"I'm not in the mood for gossip," Harry said. "Besides, we shouldn't be taking glee in other Slytherin's misfortune in public. Remember? A house united and all that."
"You're such a killjoy," George sighed. "But you're right, of course. You'll try out though, right?"
"I don't even have a broom, guys," Harry said. "If you'll recall, it got destroyed in the fire."
Fred and George glanced at each other. "Mate," Fred said. "That's horrible and all but you do realise we never had brooms of our own, right?"
"Most of the players don't," George added. "So no offense, but that's kind of a lame excuse."
Harry felt a blush coming on as the embarrassment of what they said hit him head on. He supposed he never did quite realise just how privileged he had been. And whining to the Weasleys about it, while they never really had a top op the line broom at home, let alone any personal broom at school was beyond insensitive. "You're right, of course," he said. "I'm so sorry. I never stopped to think about these things."
"That's alright," Fred said easily. "See it as a lesson in humility."
"That's something all little brothers have to go through," Georged added, tousling Harry's messy hair in the process. "Just see to it that you try out, alright?"
"I will," Harry promised, sufficiently put in his place but also warmed by the twins' declaration. "But don't expect me to go easy on you!"
After breakfast, Harry had followed some Slytherins back to his dorm room. It was difficult for him. He really wanted to talk to his friends about everything that just happened but he also didn't want to bother Ron and Hermione with sad stories about his past. They would probably believe him but he really couldn't handle their pitying looks. He'd rather face a couple of difficult days of solitude instead.
And – honestly – even if he had been friends with Daphne at this point, he wouldn't have told her anything either. Their… understanding had been too fresh and there hadn't been enough trust between the two of them for Harry to share something that personal. Of course, he didn't want her to pity him either. He wasn't pitiful. He wasn't! He had survived the Dursleys for all these years and he would manage for the years to come. When he came of age, he would finally leave them behind and no one would have to worry about him again.
Harry shook his head to try and get the ramblings away from him and refocused his attention on the catalogue in front of him.
These clothes were seriously obscenely expensive. Harry would never spend that kind of gold on something that would probably not even fit him anymore in a year or two. Unless – of course – these clothes were spelled to grow with the wearer or something. That might make the cost more realistic. But still…
But Harry believed that Malfoy would order whatever he wanted if Harry didn't make any decisions. Being in Slytherin was bad enough. He wasn't also going to wear their colours if he didn't have to.
So he took his quill and marked some sharp-looking shirts, some dressy and casual pants and a long, warm winter cloak. For good measure, he added some gloves and a hat as well. Feeling that that was more than enough, Harry closed the catalogue and put it down on Malfoy's bed.
Then he laid down and stared at his canopy for what felt like hours. After a while, Malfoy returned to the room as well. Without a word, he picked up the catalogue and leafed through it. He made a few noises that Harry could only interpret as annoyance and disapproval but he couldn't care less.
Then, the door swung open again to reveal the dungeon bat himself. Harry jumped upright immediately while Malfoy froze in place. Snape didn't even acknowledge the Malfoy heir. He didn't look at him or anything. Instead, he walked right past him and went straight to Harry.
"Mr Potter," he said. "Might I have a word?"
Harry didn't think he could really refuse. "Er… alright," he said. Snape acknowledged his reply with a single nod, turned on his heel and walked out of the room, still ignoring Malfoy. Harry scrambled to his feet and rushed after Snape. When he glanced over his shoulder to look at Malfoy, he saw a flash of hurt glimmer across the boy's face. But it vanished so quickly that Harry wondered if he had imagined it.
As the unlikely pair walked swiftly through the common room, none of the other students seemed to pay them any mind and before Harry knew it, they were outside in the cold dungeon hallways, heading towards Snape's office, no doubt.
Now what did the man want to talk about? Did he want to unearth even more of Harry's past? Or maybe he had spoken to the Dursleys by now and they told him all about Harry's so-called delinquency. They had spun the tale dozens of times before. They knew it by heart. Harry's heart sunk in his chest. Was Snape now going to punish him for lying? For screwing up the results somehow? For trying to garner sympathy he had no right to?
They entered the office and Snape motioned towards one of the more comfortable chairs near the hearth. No uncomfortable chairs for him today, it seemed. Harry sat down as silently instructed and watched as Snape took the seat across from him. There was no desk in between them which made the encounter all the more awkward for Harry. It was almost as if Snape was trying to put him at ease. But in what universe would Snape ever try to do that?
"You may relax, Mr Potter," Snape said. "You are not in trouble, if that is what you think."
"I'm not?" Harry asked. "You haven't talked to my relatives yet then, I guess."
Snape leaned back into his chair. "I see that you wish to get straight to the point," he said. "Allow me to call for some tea before we engage in this conversation, though. Anna."
The summoned house-elf – apparently named Anna – appeared quickly with a soft crack. "Yes, master Snape?" she asked demurely.
"Please provide us with an assortment of teas and biscuits," he said politely. "Some treacle tart would not go amiss either in case you have some."
"Of course, master Snape," the house-elf said before disappearing with another crack.
"Convenient," Harry mumbled.
"Indeed," Snape agreed. "Now, as to your earlier question, I did indeed not speak to those relatives of yours, nor can I think of a reason to do so unless it is to not so kindly remind them of their duties."
"To get their side of the story?" Harry said. "Isn't that how it should go?"
"I don't see why," Snape said. "We have all the proof we require. The spell doesn't lie, you see. If it were up to me, those monsters would be going to jail sooner rather than later. It's a pity that we can't have the wizarding community find out that you don't live there anymore seeing how that -"
"I don't?" Harry interrupted. "I don't live there anymore?" The hope Harry felt in his own voice made him sick. Why was he presenting himself so vulnerably to Snape of all people. He tried to swallow the weakness that seemed to be stuck in his throat and was happy when the ordered platter arrived on the small coffee table.
Glad for the distraction, Harry filled his cup.
"I'm surprised that you expected to be going back there, Mr Potter," Snape said. "As your head of house I have a duty to protect you. Even if that means protecting you from your own homelife."
"McGonagall never cared," Harry said. Softly. "Nor did Dumbledore."
Snape sighed and Harry looked at him in surprise. The wizard seemed to be ill at ease. Regretful even. "While I agree that they should have looked closer, they didn't know anything was amiss," he said carefully. "Just like me, I regret to say. But I am trying to make amends now, as is the headmaster. I am certain – by the way – that if you would allow me to inform Professor McGonagall, she too would be regretful of your past."
Snape took a sip from his own tea and carefully selected a biscuit.
"I bet," Harry said, not really wanting to delve deeper into that. "So, where will I be staying then? In some kind of wizarding foster home?"
"Nothing like that," Snape said resolutely. "The matter is somewhat difficult, I must admit. Were you an ordinary wizarding child, we would gladly place you with a family that has shown great care for your wellbeing, such as the Weasley family. I am absolutely certain that they would love to have you. However, it cannot be."
"Because I'm not ordinary?" Harry asked bitterly.
"Precisely," Snape replied. "Like it or not, you are still hailed as the Boy-who-lived. And followers of the Dark Lord are still after your demise as is evidenced by your encounters previous years. And I fear it will not end there."
"So where?" Harry asked. "Please tell me I'm not supposed to stay at a Professor's house during the summer or something. Or with the Minister of Magic?"
"Don't be silly," Snape quipped. "For now, Professor Dumbledore and I think that it would be prudent if you could stay at the castle during summer break. We'll simply have a Professor stay with you during that time – whom that will be is not yet decided – who can monitor you. Though I suspect much monitoring will not be needed if you can promise to be on your best behaviour."
Harry's head was reeling. "Stay here?" he repeated. "All summer? I… really don't have to go back there? Not even once?"
"Never again," Snape said solemnly and Harry believed that the man believed that. But in his heart of hearts that wasn't enough.
"Okay," Harry said. He put his cup back on its saucer. "That would be great."
Snape raised an eyebrow, probably at the lack of excitement coming from Harry but he thankfully let it go. Harry didn't dare hope too much just yet. He would wait for what was to come but he wouldn't believe his fortune had shifted that significantly without witnessing the change with his own eyes.
After all, it was still very much possible that Snape was just tricking Harry into believing him. Because if Harry took his words to heart and hoped for the perfect summer, only to be ruthlessly sent back to the Dursleys, he didn't think he could survive the hurt. And since Slytherins were not to be trusted, he would just wait it out a bit. Maybe see what Dumbledore had to say.
"Was there anything else, sir?" Harry asked.
"Not at the moment," Snape said. "But if you wish to discuss something, anything with me, I promise that it will not leave the confines of these four walls. I will not betray your trust. You have my word on this."
"Thanks, Professor," Harry said politely. "But not right now."
"Very well," Snape said and with a wave of his hand, the tea and biscuits disappeared. "You are excused."
Harry left Snape's office, his head reeling more than ever before. Stay here at the castle? The very thing Dumbledore had told him was not possible in his first year? Yeah, that was likely going to happen. Snape was either clueless or lying to him and Harry couldn't decide which one was worse. He glanced at the wall that led to the common room but decided that he wouldn't go back. He was not going to have another awkward conversation with Malfoy. Not after this. Not when knowing that the boy still hated him to his core but was just making nice for his own sake. Screw this.
With determination, he turned around and walked away. As he walked, his innermost thoughts invaded his mind once again. Daphne betrayed him. His friends were hardly still talking to him. None of the other Gryffindors had even said a word to him since he was sorted into Slytherin. Never mind that he bloody well risked his life to save someone from the burning tower. Or that he had done his best to guide everyone to safety. No, screw him right? Being sorted into Slytherin was obviously something that needed to be punished. And severely so.
His footsteps became louder but he didn't care that he could be heard. It's not as if he wasn't allowed out by anyone other than Snape. And why the hell should he listen to that infuriating man?
Before he realised it, his footsteps had brought him straight to the Hufflepuff common room which was hidden in a nook on the right side of the kitchen corridor. At this point, he was more angry than eager to see Ron but he gathered his senses to the best of his abilities and knocked. Well, pounded on the door was more like it.
After a minute or so went by, the door creaked open slightly and a little girl peeped at him from around the corner. "Yes?" she asked.
"I'd like to speak to Ron," Harry said plainly.
"I er… don't know who that is," the girl said sheepishly.
"Well then go ask someone!" Harry snapped. "He has red hair. Hard to miss. Go on now!"
He must have frightened the girl because she quickly closed the door. Harry knew that he was supposed to feel bad about that interaction but he didn't. After another long minute, the door opened again to reveal his best friend.
"Blimey, Harry," he said. "You gave Jane quite the fright. What is this about?"
"Could we talk?" Harry asked. "Somewhere more private?"
Ron looked over his shoulder before giving Harry an apologetic look. "Can it wait?" he asked. "I'm sorry but I'm in the middle of one of my mandatory study sessions."
Harry just stared at him. This was unbelievable. This was his best friend. His best friend! He was never opposed to breaking the rules before. But now that Harry needed him, needed to talk to him, he was just going to study?
"Er… How about tomorrow?" Ron asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I could meet you after classes if you'd like."
"Don't bother," Harry said bitterly. "I get the picture." He turned around and walked away.
"Harry!" he heard Ron call after him. "Come on, don't be like that!" But Harry ignored him and Ron did not come after him. Useless prat that he was. Was their entire friendship truly based on being Gryffindors after all? Was Ron that shallow? Bloody hypocrite. Going on about the Slytherins but he was no better.
Resolutely, Harry headed for Ravenclaw tower. At this point, he just wanted to find out if all of his friends had chosen to betray him. Hermione was also one for studying but she had never put her studies before their friendship before. And part of Harry hoped that she still wouldn't.
Quicker than he had imagined, Harry arrived at the bronze knocker shaped like an eagle. He stared at it angrily when it came to life and gave him a riddle.
Glittering points that downward thrust, sparkling spears that never rust. What are they?
"I don't bloody know," Harry said, too angry to think about silly riddles. "Just let me in or go fetch someone!"
But the doorknob remained silent. So Harry just started knocking as he had done at the Hufflepuff entrance. He knocked and knocked without pause, just waiting for someone to open the door. It didn't take long at all for a frazzled boy to open up. Harry knew him as Roger Davies, the quidditch captain of the Ravenclaw team. "What?" he asked in exasperation. "You could have just solved the riddle, you know?"
"I don't much fancy solving riddles just to see my friends," Harry said angrily. "I'd like to talk to Hermione."
Davies sighed. "I'm not your errand boy, Potter," he said. "But hang on. I'll go fetch her."
Harry really hoped that at least Hermione would be willing to talk to him. Secrets be damned at this point. Harry wanted to tell someone. Needed to tell someone. If he didn't, he felt like he was going to explode. And he trusted Hermione. She knew how to keep a secret when it was necessary. She knew what to say. When the door opened again, Harry looked up hopefully only to see Davies again.
"She's busy," he said. "In the middle of an important project, she said."
"That's bull," Harry growled. "Why are you keeping her from me?"
"Potter, what's gotten into you?" Davies asked and Harry noticed that he was subtly holding his wand. "You're usually not this erratic. What have the Slytherins done to you?"
"Nothing," Harry said. "I would just like to see my friend."
"And you'll see her tomorrow in class," Davies said matter-of-factly before closing the door in Harry's face.
Perplexed, Harry stood there for the better part of a minute before white hot rage bubbled up inside of him. Busy? She's busy?!
Just like what had happened this summer, Harry could feel his own magic surge erratically around him. It escaped the confines of his conscious will and struck at every little fragile thing in reach. Candles were blown apart, candelabra were ripped from the walls and paintings were teetering dangerously on the cusp of falling with their inhabitants hanging on for dear life.
Your eyes are open and I'm there. Close them. I'm there too. What am I?
"The dark!" Harry exclaimed loudly.
That's a good answer.
The door swung open and Harry immediately strode inside, seemingly scaring a couple of first years with his angry demeanour.
"Harry!"
Hermione jumped up from a chair in front of a long table. Parchments were strewn across it and books lay open. Harry's wild magic had not subdued yet though and it caused the papers to scatter across the room in a whirlwind of white.
"Harry, stop it!"
Hermione ran over to him and grabbed both of his arms, trying to calm him down. "What's gotten into you?"
"Since when are you too busy to see your own friends?" Harry yelled. "I can't believe you!"
"Harry, you need to calm down."
"I hardly see you anymore as is and when I finally come here you just ignore me? You don't even give me the courtesy of telling me to go away yourself!"
"Harry, you need to stop right now!"
"You and Ron seem so bloody happy in your new houses that there's no more room for me, is there?!"
"That's enough!" And then she slapped him. Hard. Right across the face. The paper storm subdued and the hundreds of parchments fluttered down gently. Harry felt drained and empty.
"You can't just come in here and act like this!" Hermione scolded him. "I've been working for days on this project and you just scattered it to the wind. And for what? Because I didn't want to talk to you right now? Don't be so self-centred, Harry. Not everything is about you!"
Harry gingerly touched his cheek where Hermione slapped him. He couldn't believe she did that. Couldn't she see how distraught he was?
"Get out," Hermione then said. Harry looked at her in surprise, hurt evident in his eyes. "Don't look at me like that," she added. "What you did here is so wrong!"
"It was an accident," Harry said. "I just got angry."
"Angry because I wouldn't adhere to your schedule at a moment's notice," Hermione said. "Can't you see how selfish that is? You can't just storm in here like a savage troll and wreck things – accidental or not – because you don't get your way. Can't you see that?"
"Hermione," Harry said gingerly. "I really need to talk to you."
"Well, I don't want to talk to you right now," Hermione said.
"Hermione, please," Harry pleaded.
"Enough," Hermione said. "Get out, Harry. Maybe we'll talk tomorrow if you manage to cool down somewhat but I'm not talking to you when you're like this."
Davies took hold of his arm. "You heard the lady," he said. "Out with you. Don't make me get Flitwick."
Harry's legs felt like lead but he finally acquiesced. He let Davies guide him to the door. Once there, he looked over his shoulder in a desperate attempt for Hermione to notice that he really needed her to talk to him but she was already busy picking up the scattered pages of her project, not even giving him another glance or second thought.
With a final rough shove, he ended up outside again, the door slamming shut behind him.
For those you've left behind, you have in turn become this.
"Shut up," Harry told the doorknob. But there was very little vitriol left in his voice.
He had no one left. Everyone had rejected him. Why? For what? Because he needed someone to be there for him? Because he finally expected something real from his friendships? They had already left him behind. Was their friendship that meaningless?
There was only one more friend left he could tell his woes to. And Harry hoped that she was not asleep. Feeling dejected and quite done with humans at this point, he headed over to the owlery.
At least, that was his plan.
Snape's rules had all seemed dictatorial in nature. Ridiculous and just ways to give Snape his power. But when Harry reached the base of the owlery, he found out that some of Snape's rules had a very good reason for them.
"Look guys, it's Potter," a venomous voice said. Harry frowned when he laid eyes on Seamus. Dean was standing next to him.
"Not in the mood, Finnigan," he said.
"I don't really care if you are or aren't in the mood," Seamus told him easily.
"How are you liking Slytherin?" Dean asked. "Have you told them all of Gryffindor's secrets yet?"
"Why would I do that?" Harry sighed wearily.
"Because you're a filthy traitor, that's why!" Seamus said.
"You realise I didn't choose to be sorted into Slytherin, right?" Harry said. "I'm still a Gryffindor in my core."
"Yeah right," Dean spat. "After that little Parseltongue fiasco last year, I've had my doubts." He took a step forward and shoved Harry who took a step back.
"Watch it," Harry growled dangerously.
"No, you watch it," Seamus said. And before Harry's muddled mind could tell that the boy was holding his wand, it was too late. "Incarcerous."
Thick ropes appeared out of nowhere and tied Harrys arms to his side and his legs close together. He fell over onto his side. "Come on, you bastards," he said angrily. "Let me go. Or do you really think you'll get away with this?"
"No one cares, Potter," Dean said. "Now that you're in Slytherin, no one wants anything to do with you." He kicked him in the ribs for good measure. "As you well know, no one comes to the aid of a filthy Slytherin."
"Best make yourself comfortable," Seamus said. The grin on his face was vile and dark. "You might be here a while."
And then they just left, all the while laughing like a pack of hyenas.
Laughing at Harry's misery.
And Harry started laughing too. Hard and unhinged. Laughing at nothing. At no one. But soon the laughter turned into sobs that not a single person seemed to hear. No one but the owner of the pair of glowing eyes in the dark watching him from afar.
A/N: It would seem that the e-mail issues on this site have been resolved. For me at least. So please let me know what you thought in a review. Thanks a bunch!
