"You're lucky you weren't killed," Madame Pomfrey was saying as she checked Granger over for injuries. She sighed. "Very lucky indeed, Miss Granger. Just the split lip, then."
Granger nodded dejectedly.
"Now, now, none of that. It's nothing a little magic can't fix."
"I can do it!" Harry piped up from behind them, a bright grin on his face. "I remember the spell you taught me, Madame Pomfrey!"
The woman smiled at him softly. "Well, what do you say, Miss Granger?"
Granger blushed. "Sure," she said very quietly.
Still smiling, Harry pointed his wand at her. "Episky!"
And with that, the cut vanished, leaving Granger somewhat dumbstruck. "That's it?"
Madame Pomfrey looked at her with amusement. "That's it. Now off you go. You deserve a full night's rest, after what you've been through."
Granger thanked her with a smile, and when she turned around to leave, Harry made to follow her.
"Not so fast Mr. Potter," the matron said sternly.
Harry smiled sheepishly. "I'm actually not hurt at all Madame Pomfrey. It was just Granger. The troll didn't get anywhere near me."
"Be that as it may," the woman said, "I can't have you leave just yet." Her face softened. "How have you been, Harry?"
He tried to keep his face from falling at the question. "I've been fine, ma'am."
The matron frowned. "And your headaches?"
"Nearly gone." He smiled. "Barely notice them anymore."
"Well, I'm glad to hear it, but I was hoping...we could have another chat," she said, gesturing to one of the chairs beside her.
"Alright," Harry said uneasily as he sat down.
"Have you been eating enough?"
"I think so, ma'am."
She nodded slowly. "It looks like you've gained some weight, which is certainly a good sign. But Harry...I still am at a loss as to how to explain why you needed to gain weight at all."
Years of going to bed without dinner will do that to a person, I guess.
"I just, forget to eat sometimes, I guess."
"And your Aunt and Uncle, they don't remind you?"
Of course they don't - they wish I'd just starve to death.
"They're really busy."
The woman nodded slowly. "And were they also too busy to get your wrist set properly?" she asked carefully.
Of course, they're always too busy for me.
"I told you, ma'am, they didn't know about it."
"But how could they not notice, Harry?"
They did notice, they just didn't care.
"Uncle Vernon works a lot, and Aunt Petunia has to take care of Dudley. He's a lot of work to take care of, you see." He made a face and added in a stage whisper, "He's not very bright."
"And the ribs, Harry? You can't tell me they didn't notice that."
Harry hesitated. He knew exactly what he wanted to say. Because even though he had Tom with him always...sometimes the emptiness that he could see, hear, and touch was more real than his best friend. When faced with tangible hatred and rejection, sometimes words that only existed in his head didn't save him from the pain. Sometimes knowing Tom was there wasn't enough.
They hate me.
They wish I was dead.
Sometimes, they've made me wish I was dead.
When I'm with them, I feel worthless.
When I'm with them, I'm just a freak.
When I'm with them, I'm alone.
Please let me leave.
Please help me.
But he couldn't. Tom made it clear that the Dursleys were crucial to his plans. The fact that they didn't care where Harry was and what he did allowed him to move about freely, running Tom's errands for him with relative ease. He couldn't afford to leave. Tom's plans would grind to a halt, and then where would they be? He had no idea, but Tom seemed to, and made it clear that they couldn't afford to be in such a place at all.
Besides, it wasn't that bad. It really wasn't. After all, Tom didn't have it much better, at the orphanage. If he could do it, Harry could too. He just had to be strong. It really wasn't that bad. This stuff happens to loads of kids, right? He was just weak. He just had to try harder. He just had to be strong.
They're just muggles.
They can't hurt me.
I'm stronger than they are.
I'm strong.
"That was my fault, Madame Pomfrey. The doctor gave me instructions, he told me to stay in and rest, but I went out to play instead. My cousin accidentally tripped me, is all."
The old woman in front of him seemed to wither slightly at his words, the lines on her face growing deeper and her eyes more tired. "If you insist, Harry."
He nodded, putting on his best smile. "You really have nothing to worry about Madame Pomfrey. I'm fine. My family loves me, and they really do take care of me. Accidents happen, is all."
The matron sighed. "Very well, Harry. You may leave."
He forcibly widened his smile as he rose to his feet. "Thanks Madame Pomfrey! You have a good night."
"And you as well, Harry."
He turned to leave.
"And Harry...when you're ready to talk, please do come to me. I'll always be here."
"Of course."
His false smile bled off his face as he walked away, and as he rounded the corner, he almost burst into tears. He hated these 'chats'. It was the third time Madame Pomfrey had interrogated him, and the third time he'd had to lie to her face while everything inside him screamed at him to tell the truth. He didn't understand why he felt so conflicted - he knew what he had to do. So why was it so hard? Why did it hurt so much to lie?
His heart was thudding in his chest as he hurried down the multitude of stairwells leading down to the dungeons, and the sound of blood pumping in his ears drowned out even his footsteps. He needed to get away. He needed to be alone. He needed his bed. He needed Tom.
When the door to the common room was in sight, he sighed in relief, and a smile almost made it onto his face when he uttered the password.
"Animam Puritate."
Unfortunately, his relief was short-lived.
"Hey Potter," Malfoy sneered at him, barring his way immediately as he entered the common room, no shortage of eyes on him.
He sighed, steadying his breathing as best as he could. "Yes, Malfoy?"
"I heard you went running after that stupid mudblood Gryfindork, Granger." Word travels fast at Hogwarts, apparently.
Harry did his very best to keep his face neutral and raised an eyebrow. "And?"
Malfoy looked at him smugly, as Harry's answer had garnered them some more attention. "That kind of behaviour is not appreciated in Slytherin House, Potter. Would you care to share why you'd risk your life for a mudblood?"
"Not really."
"Don't walk away from me, Potter!"
The whole common room was staring at them now.
"As you wish, Malfoy."
"That's what I like to hear. Now, would you like to explain why you no doubt lost us points for a mudblood? Does she remind you of your mother, Potter? She was a mudblood too, wasn't she?"
"Don't talk about my mother," Harry snapped, feeling too exhausted and stiff from nerves to humour the boy.
"Why not? Does it hurt your feelings?" Malfoy mocked.
Harry grit his teeth. Why was Malfoy so irritating?
"That's it, isn't it? Your mother – are you ashamed of her, Potter? Are you ashamed of the fact that she was a mudblood who-"
"Do not finish that sentence, Malfoy." There was something hot and nearly boiling in his chest, some strange feeling he'd never felt before, raising his heart rate as it simmered beneath the surface.
The boy grinned at him maliciously. "Or what?"
Or what? Or what? How dare Malfoy underestimate him! He'd shown himself to be capable, he'd won his house so many points, and disarmed the other boy many times already, and still Malfoy thought him to be weak! And still insisted on insulting him! After all he'd done for him, after all the times he'd shown him lenience, and looked the other way. After how kind, patient, and merciful he'd been...how stupid was the boy? How ungrateful, rude, insulting, cruel...
That was when the feeling in his chest reached boiling point.
Harry was just as surprised as everyone else when a sickening snap interrupted their conversation, and Malfoy's grin bled off his face, replaced by horrified pain. His face paled drastically, and he fell, moaning and crying out as his leg collapsed at an eerily wrong angle.
It was broken. Harry broke it.
Suddenly aware of the spectacle he had made and the gasps circulating the Common Room, Harry froze. What had he done? Was that him? Of course it was. He'd been angry...too angry. He lost control. Lost control of what? What could he possibly lose control of? It was that feeling, he knew it. That wonderful, terrifying feeling that had been there, boiling furiously, only to evaporate a moment later.
What was that?
He panicked, suddenly afraid and feeling very guilty about breaking the boy's leg (even though it was an accident, he swore it was). Everyone had seen them - he'd lost his temper in front of everyone. Would they be afraid of him? Hate him? Ridicule him for losing his cool? He had to do something...
But what does one do at a time like this?
Fix it.
Taking a deep breath, he slowly walked over and looked down at the whimpering boy sadly.
"Or," he said with a soft voice, all his previous anger and indignation completely drained from it, "Nothing. I won't threaten you, Malfoy. I trust you are intelligent enough to understand what will happen next time you speak out of turn like that."
Malfoy gasped, doing his best not to cry.
"Next time, I take out my wand."
The other boy looked at him with unconcealed fear in his eyes, as Harry knelt down beside him, drawing his wand and pointing it at the boy's leg.
"Episky."
Luckily, seeing a it was a nice clean break, the simple healing charm did the trick.
He looked up at Malfoy with a remorseful frown. "I'm sorry for hurting you."
And with that, he nearly ran out of the Common Room, doing his best to ignore the stunned stares he left behind him.
"You're really terrifying, you know," Theo would say to him later. Harry was sure that the other boy didn't realize how hurtful that statement.
....
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