Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9913535.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry_Potter/Severus_Snape
  Character:
      Albus_Dumbledore, Harry_Potter, Hermione_Granger, Ron_Weasley, Severus
      Snape, Draco_Malfoy
  Additional Tags:
      Slash, Sexual_Content, Spoilers, Alternate_Universe, Angst, Tragedy,
      Hurt/Comfort
  Collections:
      HPFandom
  Stats:
      Published: 2006-05-27 Completed: 2006-09-11 Chapters: 4/4 Words: 12425
****** Life On Mute ******
by vampchic [archived by HPFandom_archivist]
Summary
     Harry was affected by the killing curse more than everyone thought.
Notes
     Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally
     archived at HP_Fandom, which was closed for health and financial
     reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its
     works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I
     e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but
     may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator,
     please contact me using the e-mail address on HP_Fandom_collection
     profile.
***** Freedom and Friends *****
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and characters are not mine, they all belong to JK
Rowling, I'm just borrowing for a bit. ^^
Warnings: There will be mentions of violence and even descriptions of it, there
will be sexual situations, but not anytime soon, and there will be spoilers for
the books up to about book 5. If there are any additional warnings, I will post
them the beginning of the chaps.
Life On Mute
by vampchic
 
Chapter 1 Freedom and Friends
Harry sat alone, staring out the window at the passing scenery. There was so
much green, so many trees and bushes. It was almost a shock to see there was
more to the world other then Privet Drive.
Sighing, Harry leaned his head against the window. The cold glass was a relief
to his heated skin. He was so tired. So sore. He wanted so bad to close his
eyes and rest, to fall into a healing sleep, but he didn’t want to miss a
second of the view outside the window. With every passing tree, he was that
much closer to his freedom, and he didn’t want to waste the experience by
closing his eyes.
The compartment door sliding open had Harry sitting up fast, a wary expression
on his face as he watched a mop of red hair poke in.
“Mind if I sit down? All the others are full.” The boy was tall and gangly.
Freckles adorned the boys face, giving off an almost friendly appearance.
Harry eyed the boy suspiciously - even the most friendly could turn out to be
cruel, but he nodded anyway. It was usually best to agree rather than risk
angering a person by saying no; he learned that lesson long ago.
The red head sat down and immediately stuck his hand out towards Harry. “Ron
Weasley.” he said, gripping Harry’s hand tight as he shook it. “This is my pet
rat, Scabbers. Bit sorry lookin’, isn’t he?” He held up his other hand,
indicating the rat before placing him back on his lap. “He isn’t really my rat,
he was my brother Percy’s first, but mum got him an owl for making Prefect, so
I got the rat instead.”
Harry blinked as he tried to follow what the boy said. The words had been
rushed, and with his head turned down to look at the rat, Harry couldn’t see
his lips. He had no clue what had been said, and didn’t know how to ask the red
head to repeat himself.
“My brothers, Fred and George, gave me a spell as to turn him yellow. Wanna
see?” Ron asked, this time looking right at Harry.
His expression was full of eagerness.
Harry gave a small smile and nodded his head.
This was why he was here wasn’t it? To become a wizard and learn spells. Though
if his relatives had anything to say about it, he wouldn’t be here. He very
nearly wasn’t. His Uncle Vernon had made sure the night before that he would be
far from enjoying his first week at Hogwarts, the School of Witchcraft and
Wizardry.
But despite the pain he was in, Harry was determined to enjoy every moment away
from his relatives.
Ron cleared his throat as he pulled out his wand, the noise loud enough to pull
Harry from his thoughts. “Sunshine, daisy’s, butter...”
“Have any of you two seen a toad? A boy named Neville’s lost his.” Both boys
looked up at the intrusion. A girl with bushy brown hair stood in the entrance
of the compartment, looking at them expectantly. “Oh, you’re doing a spell?
Lets see, then?” The girl sat herself across from the red head and next to
Harry, not seeming to notice his small flinch. She smoothed out her black robes
before looking back up at Ron, giving the red head a pointed look.
Ron’s ears tinged pink at the attention, and he cleared his throat once more
before muttering the spell again. Other then a spark and a squeak from the rat,
nothing happened.
“You sure that’s a real spell?” the girl asked, not impressed in the slightest.
“Well, it’s not a very good one, is it? Of course, I’ve only tried to do simple
spells myself, but they’ve all worked for me.” She lifted her wand and turned
to Harry, pointing it at directly between his wide green eyes. “For example -
Occulus Repairo.” In a flash Harry’s broken glasses were like new again. He
stared in awe at them before sliding them off his nose to look at them better,
a well of gratitude building up inside of him at this girl. No one has ever
bothered to do anything like that for him before.
“Holy cricket, you’re Harry Potter!”
Ron’s head snapped up at the girls exclamation, and his blue eyes widened in
shock as he stared at the boy in tattered clothing.
“I’m Hermione Granger. And you are?” the girl asked, turning to the red head.
“Um... Ron Weasley.” he finally managed, dragging his eyes away from the quite
boy to glance at the girl.
“Pleasure.” Hermione said with a touch of sarcasm before standing up. “You best
be getting into robes now, I expect we’ll be arriving shortly.”
Harry stared in confusion at the spot where the girl had stood, feeling a bit
out of his depth suddenly. That wasn’t the first time someone knew who he was,
and for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why? It was all disconcerting
really.
His trip into Diagon Alley had scared him to the bones at all the attention he
received. How did they know who he was? And why did they all fawn over him like
he was some great being?
He wasn’t.
How could he be? He was nothing more then a freak.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’re Harry Potter?” Ron finally blurted out. He was
looking at Harry like he was the prize from the bottom of a cereal box.
Harry shook his head. How was he supposed to answer that?
“Is it true, then? Do you really have...” His eyes darted around the small
compartment, as if looking for eavesdroppers, “the scar?”
Harry stared at Ron’s lips, trying to discern the boy’s words, but the pointed
look the red head was giving his forehead had Harry lifting his hand and
brushing back the dark fringe. Apparently it was what Ron wanted since he broke
out into a huge grin.
“Wicked.” Ron said in awe. “Do you remember that night at all? The night you
defeated... You-Know-Who?” he asked in a low whisper. Harry frowned. He didn’t
hear a word of that, and the boy had moved his head around too much to try to
follow his lips.
“Didn’t think so.” Ron said in disappointment, mistaking Harry’s frown for a
negative. “Do you know which house you’ll be sorted into?”
House?
Harry rubbed at his head, trying to ease the headache that was building from
trying to understand Ron’s one-sided conversation. He was so tired. It was
becoming increasingly difficult to keep his eyes open.
“Of course, no one can tell what house they’ll be sorted into, I just pray it
isn’t Slytherin. There’s not a witch or wizard that didn’t go bad from that
house.”
Ron’s sudden look of appraisal had Harry sitting up straighter and tugging on
his ragged clothes, trying fruitlessly to straighten and smooth them out. He
hated when people looked at him like that, like they were judging him. It was a
look he got that was usually followed by pain on his part.
“You don’t speak much do you?”
Harry sighed and shook his head, abandoning his attempt to straighten himself
out.
“How come?”
Harry frowned. He wished he knew the answer to that too sometimes.
Harry gave the red head a critical look, trying to determined if the boy meant
trouble for him now, but all he saw was a look of total curiosity.
Sighing, he stood and pulled his trunk down from its resting place, searching
around for a pen and paper. ‘I dont speek’ he wrote out in shaky writing,
hesitating for a moment before passing the paper to Ron.
“Or spell.” Ron retorted humorously as he read the note, smiling at the small
boy’s slight glare. “But how can you learn your spells if you cant speak?”
Harry shrugged. He wasn’t sure either.
Until just a few short weeks before, he never imagined that any of this
existed. He had thought his first Hogwarts letter was a joke, sent by his
cousin Dudley’s friends as a way to get him in trouble. Why would anyone want
to write to someone so freakish like him? The beating he received afterwards
had confirmed his belief, but with each passing day he kept receiving the same
letter in greater bulk.
There was no way Dudley’s friends would spend so much for a stupid prank.
His relatives had never been so unhappy with him as they were then. They blamed
him - made sure he knew it too. It was unnatural. The letters were pouring in
from everywhere - the mail slot, the chimney, windows, under the door... but
they still refused to let him read his letters.
It wasn’t until the appearance of a Hogwarts Professor that Harry was finally
able to read the letters.
His uncle had thrown a fit, his face purpling as he swore and raged at the man,
but the Professor had merely sneered and waved a stick, effectively shutting up
his uncle.
Harry was in awe of the man.
No one had ever stood up to his uncle like that before. It was like the man was
fearless.
Of course, he had paid dearly for that incident later that night, but Harry
didn’t care - the Professor had taken him away for a day of freedom, showing
him a wondrous world he never thought possible as they shopped for his school
supplies.
If his silence bothered the Professor at all, the man made no mention of it,
just simply explained anything of importance to him in a clear voice as they
went along.
He wasn’t sure if the Professor realized he couldn’t speak - surely they
wouldn’t allow him to attend if they knew? And if they did send him back to the
Dursley’s, at least he was able to taste a bit of freedom for awhile.
Harry stifled a yawn. He really was exhausted.
“Don’t worry, mate. Just stick with me, I’ll help you out.” Ron’s hand clapped
him on the back, and Harry hissed in pain. He could feel blood trickle down his
back as a couple of his wounds opened up again. He just hoped that the blood
soaking his back wasn’t too noticeable.
Forcing a smile around the pain, Harry gingerly sat back and nodded to his new
friend.
That thought made him smile for real as the boy’s words finally sunk in. Ron
didn’t care that he couldn’t speak. Didn’t care that he was different. Perhaps
the wizarding world didn’t mind freaks like him as much as the, what did the
Professor call it?... the muggle world did. He certainly hoped so. It would be
nice having someone to help him out as he learned his way around this new
world.
“Come on, lets get our robes on before we forget.” Ron said as he stood,
rummaging through his bag.
When Ron turned back around, Harry was sound asleep in his seat, his school
robe tucked tightly around him like a small blanket.
Chuckling, Ron settled back into his own seat, his rat back on his lap. “Wait
‘til Mum hears about this.” he grinned to the creature before closing his eyes
as well, napping for the rest of the trip.
~~~~
“First years! Over here, first years!” bellowed a giant of a man with wild hair
and wearing furs. Harry blinked owlishly up at the man as he and Ron made their
way to him.
“Blimey, look at him!” Ron exclaimed in his ear, making it easy for Harry to
hear him above all the noise. Ron’s expression was almost fearful, and Harry
couldn’t blame him. The man’s fists were easily three times the size of his
uncles. He certainly didn’t want to be the one at the end of those fists.
The boat ride over the lake was thrilling, at least for Harry. He’d never been
on a boat before, and definitely not one that was propelled by magic. And the
castle had been a fantastic sight to see as it rose higher and higher the
closer they got. It had sent a jolt through him as he realized that this was
actually happening. That he was in the wizarding world to become a wizard.
Hagrid, the giant man, had led them up a flight of stairs and into the warm
entrance of the castle where a stern looking woman stood waiting for them. A
look from her quickly told him that he wouldn’t want to cross her either. She
didn’t look very pleasant, though her eyes where much kinder than his Aunt
Petunia’s, who’s gaze was always cold and unforgiving towards him.
She led them to a small room and turned to face them all.
“My name is Professor McGonagall, Headmistress and head of Gryffindor house. In
just a moment you will be sorted into your houses. They are Hufflepuff,
Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Slytherin. Your house will be like your family while
you're here." She gave the first years a stern look. "Your actions will reflect
on your house. If you break the rules, you will loose points. If you do well,
you will earn points - best if you remember that. Now if you would just wait
here, please.”
The first years mutterings grew in volume as Professor McGonagall stepped
through a side door, most speculating how they were to be sorted.
Harry squirmed. He was distinctly aware of eyes on him, and he stepped closer
to Ron, seeking some sort of reassurance from the boy.
“Alright there, mate?” Ron asked as he felt the smaller boy clutch a hand to
his robes.
Harry nodded but didn’t let go.
“So its true, then? The great Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts?” A voice
sneered above the rest. Harry turned at the voice and came face to face with a
blond haired boy with creamy white skin.
Harry just stared at the boy. Was his name written on his back or something?
How did everyone know who he was?
“Name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.” the blond said, thrusting his hand towards
Harry. Ron’s laugh brought a silver flash of anger to the blonds gray eyes, and
the hand dropped, welling into fists at the boys side. “Think my name’s funny,
do you? Don’t need to ask who you are - red hair and hand-me-down robes; you’re
a Weasley.”
The name was said with such hatred.
Harry tried to step back, not wanting to get caught in a middle of a fight, but
the blond whirled on him.
“Best watch who you make friends with, Potter.” He glared at the red head. “You
don’t want to be caught hanging out with the wrong sort.”
The hand was back in front of him, waiting for him to shake it, to accept the
friendship.
Harry looked between the two glaring boys, biting his lip. He had no clue what
to do and everyone was now watching them.
He tugged on Ron’s robes, pulling the boy closer to him slightly. The jester
didn’t go unnoticed by the blond.
“What’s going on here?” McGonagall’s voice ranged out as she came up to the
group that had gathered around the boys.
Draco dropped his hand, sneering slightly as he gave a small nod to Harry.
“Nothing Professor.” he answered for everyone as he turned to face her.
McGonagall gave the boys a look that clearly said she didn’t believe them, but
said nothing on it.
“Follow me please.” she said as she turned and open the side doors, giving the
first years their first look at the Great Hall.
Gasps rang all around and Harry couldn’t keep his jaw from dropping as he
stared up at the enchanted ceiling. He vaguely heard a girl claim that she read
all about it as they were led down an aisle to stand in front of the teachers
table.
To Harry’s utmost amusement, a stool with a old and ratted hat atop it was
placed before the teachers table and the whole of the school was looking at it
expectantly. After a moment of silence, Harry understood why. The hat began to
sing, the rip in the seam acting very much like a mouth. It sang of the
different houses, of there qualifications, and Harry wasn’t sure if he fitted
any of them.
“When I call your name, please come up, sit on the stool and place the hat on
your head.” Professor McGonagal said, eyeing each of the first years before
focusing on the scroll in her hands.
One by one the students were sorted, and with each one, a knot in his stomach
grew. What if the hat couldn’t find a house for him? What if they realized his
freakishness and sent him home? He didn’t want to go home. He wanted to stay
here, to learn to be a wizard.
By the time his name was called, Harry was almost in a full panic. His heart
beating fiercely in his chest, he trudged up to the stool and placed the hat
atop his head.
“Hmm,” The small voice in his head startled him and the hall laughed as he gave
a small jump. “Difficult. Very difficult. There’s plenty of courage, I see, and
not a bad mind. And there’s talent, oh yes - and a thirst to prove yourself. So
where to place you?”
“You aren’t going to send me home?” Harry asked in confusion. It was a bit
disconcerting listening to a voice in your head that wasn’t your own.
“And why would I do that?”
“Cause I can’t speak, sir.” Harry answered, his gaze dropping to his hands in
nervousness. He could feel the weight of the stares from the students the
longer he sat there, and he didn’t really like it at all.
“There’s a difference between not being able to and choosing not to.” the hat
answered. “Now where to place you? Slytherin will take you far into greatness,
and you can be great, you know. Its all here in your head.”
Harry frowned. What was it that Ron had said about Slytherin, that not a witch
or wizard in that house turned evil? Harry didn’t want to be evil. Evil was
like his uncle and cousin, and he didn’t want to be anything like that. No, he
didn’t want Slytherin.
“Not Slytherin, eh? You sure? Very well, better be... GRYFFINDOR!” The last
word was said aloud for all to hear and immediately cheering started up at the
Gryffindor table.
Lifting the hat off his head, Harry headed for a free seat at the table, a
blush heating his face as people congratulated him. A few nearby dared to clap
him on the back and Harry had to bite his lip to keep from crying at the pain.
He was really going to have to bandage his back before bed.
The other students were sorted and he did his best to clap and smile with the
rest. Ron was sorted into Gryffindor Harry noted with relief. Sharing a house
with Ron made him feel much more secure than if they had ended up in different
houses.
As Dumbledore stood to make his yearly announcements, Harry let his eyes wander
over the rest of the tables.
Draco Malfoy had been sorted into Slytherin. The blond had took his spot
amongst the other Slytherins it seemed, if the pleased smirk gracing his pointy
features was anything to go by.
Grey eyes looked right at him, and the smirk grew as Harry realized he was
staring. He gave the blond a tentative smile before turning back to listen to
Dumbledore, a blush covering is own face.
He wasn’t sure of the feelings the boy stirred in him. He made him quite
nervous, and reminded him vaguely of his cousin, and he wasn’t sure he liked
that thought at all.
As Dumbledore introduced the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Harry’s
eyes landed on a dark, familiar figure. The same figure that had rescued him
for a day from the Dursley’s. He couldn’t help the grin that broke out across
his face as Professor Snape’s black eyes landed on him.
When he was to be sent back to the Dursley’s, Harry would forever remember the
man for rescuing him and showing him a wondrous world. Even if it was only
briefly.
TBC
***** Not So Secret *****

Author's notes: Harry was affected by the killing cure more than everyone
thought
===============================================================================
Chapter 2 Not So Secret
 
“That him?”
“I cant believe he’s here.”
“I wonder how he did it?”
“...most powerful wizard of our time.”
Harry’s hearing might be worse for wear, but even he could hear the whisperings
around him as he walked with the Gryffindor’s towards their common room.
The pointing and staring was starting to wear on him and he vaguely felt like
he was the main attraction at the zoo. Was being a freak in this world praised
upon? Could they tell, just by looking at him, that he was abnormal?
Harry shivered at the thought and clutched his stomach. He didn’t feel well at
all. And he wasn’t so sure it was from the food. He had eaten more than usual,
yes, but not so much to make him feel like this.
“All right their, mate?” Ron asked as he came to stand by the boy. The whole of
Gryffindor was gathered around a large painting of a fat lady, Harry wasn’t
entirely sure why.
He nodded his head, giving his friend a small smile.
“This is the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Rooms. Do not give the password
out to the other houses, or bring them in. This is Gryffindor territories and
shall remain that way, understood?” Percy Weasley said, giving all the younger
years a stern glare.
“Come on,”
“Just open up already!” Two identical red heads shouted from the crowd.
“Yeah, we’re all tired!”
“That’s Fred and George.” Ron said as he leaned over to Harry, speaking
directly into his ear.
Percy glared at the grinning twins, but turned to the painting. “Caput
Draconis” The painting flung forward and the students climbed in through the
hole into the spacious common room.
“Wow. Homey.” Ron whistled as he looked around the room.
Harry had to agree with the red heads assessment. The room was warm and
inviting. Bookshelves and paintings lined the wall. A fireplace kept the room
warm and couches, chairs and tables lettered the room.
“Listen up.” Percy shouted from the stairs. “The boys dorms are up the stairs
to the right, the girls the same to the left. Boys may not go into the girls
dorms and vice versa.
“If any of you have questions, feel free to come to myself, or one of the other
Prefects. You’ll find that your things have already been brought up to your
rooms. Now off to bed with you lot.”
“He’s going to be a pain in our arse, I just know it.” Ron moaned as he and
Harry made there way up the stairs to the boys first year dormitory.
Harry chuckled silently as he followed Ron up to the room. His eyes widen as he
saw the beds, one each for all the first years. He had his own bed! He couldn’t
keep the grin off his face as he climbed atop and bounced lightly, delighting
in the warmth of the covers. The cot in the cupboard was nowhere as soft and
nice as these beds.
“Oi, you going to bounce all night or are you going to get ready for bed? We’re
about ready for lights out.” Ron said as he turned to face Harry, pulling his
nightshirt over his head.
Harry frowned.
There was no way he was going to change in front of the others. Not while he
was still battered up. Plus, he really needed to tend to his wounds. He still
ached from all those people clapping him on the back.
Biting his lip, Harry gathered his pajamas and looked around the room. The
others where still in the room so the bathroom was clear for the moment. He
just hoped no one decided to go in until he was done.
Giving Ron a nod, he headed to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror.
He really did look worn out. His hair was a mess, sticking out in every which
way and his eyes were nothing but bags of shadows.
Taking a deep breath, Harry raised trembling fingers and began unbuttoning his
robes, folding it and sitting it to the side. Carefully he pealed off his
shirt, wincing at the site of the blood soaking the back.
“Whoa... you poor thing. You should really see the school nurse about those
injures. She’ll heal you up in no time.”
Harry whirled around, his eyes wide as he tried to find the source of the
voice.
There was no one.
Swallowing thickly, Harry dropped his trousers and headed for the shower,
quickly washing away the blood and grime. Carefully he dried himself off and
shimmied into his pajama bottoms.
“Harry, you ready yet?” Harry froze as Ron’s voice called from the door. Ron
couldn’t see him like this. No one could. As fast as he could, Harry threw the
pajama shirt on over his head, silently screaming as he ripped open even more
wounds. Yes, he was definitely going to need some bandages.
“Hun, I really think you should have the nurse look at those.”
Harry spun around, certain he heard someone behind him. Was he finally going
mad? There was no one there!
“Look at what?” Ron asked as he came over, a toothbrush in hand. He looked at
Harry’s wide eyed and panicked expression and frowned. “You sure you’re
alright?”
Harry nodded dumbly as he looked around the room. There was only Ron and him in
the bathroom. No one else.
Ron’s frown deepened at that, but he pushed it aside for now in favor of
stepping up to the sink to brush out his mouth.
“Well, aren’t you a cutie.” the voice said, and Harry stilled, his eyes going
wild.
“Cool! A talking mirror.” Ron exclaimed. He looked over his shoulder, grinning
at Harry’s bewildered expression. “We don’t have any at home, Dad thought a
muggle mirror was better. These can either be very helpful, or just plain
annoying. My brother Charley had one for awhile that spouted nothing but
insults.”
Harry nodded as he let out a breath. So he wasn’t going crazy. At least not
yet.
“Come on, I’m tired.” Ron said as he rinsed out his mouth and headed back to
the dorm room, chuckling under his breath at Harry’s reaction to the mirror.
Harry followed, glancing over his shoulder to glare at the offensive mirror. He
was going to have to stay clear of it until he healed up.
~~~~
Harry woke the next day feeling more refreshed than he’d ever felt. He had
snuck back into the bathroom once everyone else had fallen asleep and bandaged
up his back with a ragged shirt that had seen better days, making sure not to
step into view of the mirror. It was a little difficult, but he managed.
Gingerly, he sat up and stretched his arms over his head, mindful of his back.
Another day or so and he wouldn’t have to worry about them ripping open again.
Dressing quickly, Harry made his way down to the Great Hall, stopping to stare
in wonder at the moving pictures along the way now that he had the time to do
so. He hadn’t the chance to look properly when they were being lead to the
common room.
A picture of a girl curtseyed and blew a kiss, giggling as Harry blushed
fiercely and hurried on his way to breakfast.
Harry stopped short and grinned as he saw the tables laden with food and
promptly sat himself down, eager to try the different breakfast appetizers. The
Dursley’s never allowed him to eat much, and all the food they ever ate, he
made. He never did understand that logic, but didn’t dare question it, even if
he could.
“Do you always get up so early?” Ron asked as he sat himself down next to
Harry, shoveling food onto his plate. “It barely after seven. You could of
slept in you know. Class doesn’t start until nine.”
Harry shrugged and fished out a piece of parchment from his bag. “I all ways
get up erly.” he wrote.
Ron snorted around a mouthful of eggs and ham. “We seriously need to teach you
how to spell, mate. You’re never going to pass any of your classes with that
kind of writing.”
Harry blushed hotly and stuffed the parchment back into his bag. It wasn’t his
fault that the Dursley’s always kept him from school. He only attended enough
not to get the teachers suspicious and he never had enough time to do his
homework.
“You know, we’re going to need to come up with a way for you to talk to me. I’m
sure you’ll get tired of writing everything down all the time. I wonder if
there’s a spell we could use.” Ron mused as he refilled his plate with food.
Harry shrugged. He personally didn’t think it would be a problem once everyone
found out about him. What would be the use of spelling properly when he was
just going to be sent right back home?
The Hall was soon filled with hungry students - Neville sat next to Harry,
nervously picking at his food while Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas sat across
from them, discussing everything from Quidditch to how they thought the school
year might go. Harry paid them no mind, not able to understand a word spoken
anyway.
His eyes were focused solely on Professor Snape and he watched as he stood with
the other Head of House’s, passing out the different schedules. The man moved
so fluidly, and with such presence, he was entirely fascinated by him.
He jumped as a hand lightly gripped his shoulder and stared up at Professor
McGonagall.
“Here you go, Mister Potter. If you have any trouble with your schedule, please
come to me and let me know. We’ll see what we can do.” Professor McGonagall
said as she handed over Harry’s schedule.
Harry smiled at her and nodded, though he hadn’t really heard all of what she
said. It was just too noisy in the Hall.
“I look forward to having you in class.” she said before continuing on to Ron
and the other first year Gryffindors.
Harry glanced down at the schedule in his hand, disappointed to learn that he
wouldn’t have a class with Professor Snape until Friday, but the fact that it
was Double Potions cheered him a little. He just hoped he would be able to make
the man proud.
“What are you grinning about?” Ron asked as they grabbed their bags and readied
themselves for their very first class, Transfiguration.
Harry shrugged and buried his schedule in his bag. Looking over his shoulder
one last time, Harry’s grin widen as Professor Snape scowled in his direction.
Looked like the man was in a foul mood this morning. Giggling silently, Harry
hurried up his steps to catch up with Ron.
The first week of classes proved to be tiring for Harry as teachers exclaimed
their delight to have him in their class. Professor Flitwick even fell off his
stack of books when he called his name for roll call and Professor Quirrell
nearly had a heart attack.
But not once did any of them ever ask him a direct question that required him
to speak up. His dorm mates tried on occasion to draw him into conversation,
but never thought much of it when he simply shook his head and moved over to
Ron. No one ever seemed none the wiser that Harry never spoke up for himself.
Idly he wondered if he’d be able to manage the whole year without the teachers
finding out his “little secret”.
The spells were proving to be difficult, though they’ve mostly worked on
theory. He tried hard to form the words on his silent lips, but more often then
not, his spells always failed. The only comfort he had was that Ron seemed to
be having just as hard of a time at it.
When Friday finally came, Harry couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He’d
finally get to have class with Professor Snape.
“There you go grinning away again.” Ron commented good naturedly as he stuffed
his face with pancakes and hash browns. “What’s got you in such a cheery mood?”
Harry pulled out his schedule, pointing to the Friday slot that held Double
Potions.
“Yeah, I know, finally Friday. I can stand to use a brake from all this book
learning stuff.” Ron agreed, not catching what Harry meant.
Harry just shook his head and tucked into his own food, glancing up at the head
table every once in awhile to look at the Professor. He heard the rumors about
Snape favoring the Slytherins and being an all around “Git”, but he didn’t
care. He just knew Snape would never treat him unfairly, Gryffindor or not.
He was sorely wrong.
Snape barged into class, his robes billowing behind him magnificently as he
strode to the front of the class. “There will no foolish wand waving or silly
incantations.” He leveled the class with a glare, his voice coming out too soft
for Harry to hear.
He bit his lips, squinting his eyes as he tried to follow the mans lips.
“Many of you may not even believe this is magic, nor do I expect you to
appreciate the beauty of Potions making. But for the few who show the aptitude
for the art - I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper
death - if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads I usually have to teach.”
Harry looked around himself, hoping to get an idea of just what Professor Snape
had said. Ron looked worried and Hermione, who was on his other side, was
sitting up as straight as possible with an anxious and determined expression on
her face, ready to prove herself capable. The rest of the Gryffindors with
glancing about nervously while the Slytherins didn’t seem to have a care in the
world.
“Potter!" Snape barked suddenly, making Harry jump in his seat as he turned his
attention back to the Professor. The Slytherins snickers were loud enough for
him to hear and he could see Draco smirking at him out of the corner of his
eye.
Harry gulped.
“What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of
wormwood?”
Hermione’s hand shot up, nearly knocking Harry’s glasses off his face in the
process.
He bit his lip, not sure what to do.
“You don’t know?” Snape finally sneered when Harry didn’t say anything.
Harry nodded, hoping that the man would move on to another student.
“Lets try again, shall we? Where would you look if I told you to find me a
bezoar?”
Again Hermione’s hand shot out, this time straining as far as she could reach,
trying to get the Professors attention.
Harry blinked at her before looking at Ron pleadingly, trying to ask for help
as best he could. Ron’s hands were balled up into fists, his knuckles white as
he glared angrily at the Professor.
“Well? Speak up boy. And put your hand down you insufferable girl!” Snape
snapped harshly.
The Slytherins snickered loudly as Hermione retracted her arm, a look of hurt
flashing over her features.
Harry stared at the Professor in shock. He was starting to remind him of the
Dursley’s and he didn’t like that one bit. Why was the Professor interrogating
only him?
“He cant!” Ron finally blurted, his face red with anger as he glared at the
Professor.
Snape whirled on Ron. “What?”
“He cant. Harry cant speak.”
Harry sank into his seat, his face heating up as the whole class gasped and
began whispering at once.
Everyone knew now.
The headmaster was probably going to ship him off back to his relatives that
night. He could just imagine the welcoming he would receive. They wouldn’t be
happy with him at all.
“Is this true?” Snape asked in his cold, low voice. Harry only knew what he
said because he couldn’t take his eyes off the man. The man who’s image was
shattering and leaving behind a horrid, nightmarish version.
He nodded, praying desperately that the Professor would leave it at that and
continue with the class. He didn’t know if he could handle anymore of this.
Snape gave the boy a calculating look and slowly stalked towards Harry, sending
shivers of fear down the boy’s back. He would of ran if it wasn’t for the fact
that he was glued to his seat with dread.
“Say something.” Snape said, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he bent over the
boy’s desk.
Harry felt sick.
Tears burned his eyes, and he blinked, trying to keep them from falling. He
knew this would happen eventually, he just never imagined that the man who
rescued him would take such cruel pleasure from it.
“Sir...” Hermione started, looking very startled by Snape’s command.
“Quiet!” Snape barked at her, making both Harry and Hermione flinch.
Snape smirked. “Go on Mister Potter. Let us all hear for ourselves your
speaking abilities.”
Harry could feel his heart starting to race as the burning in his eyes
increased. Harry’s breath hitched as he stared into the dark voids of the
Professors eyes. He could find no trace of the man who had saved him, of the
man who had led him through a new world and tried to keep the crowds away from
him.
Ron looked ready kill as Harry sat wide eyed in his seat. His breathing was
coming out rapid, his green eyes wide with fright, humiliation and
disappointment.
“That’s not fair! He can't say anything. He’s mute.” Ron shouted, knocking back
his chair as he stood to glower at Snape.
Snape turned his head slowly, his eyes murderous as they landed on the red
head. “Sit. Back. Down.” The controlled fury in his voice had Ron promptly
righting his chair and sitting, a look of pure hatred on the red heads face.
Snape turned back to Harry and raised a brow. “Well?”
Harry’s lips trembled as he quickly glanced around the room, finding no one
else willing to help him. Most of the Slytherins were leaning forward in their
seats, eagerly watching the proceedings while the Gryffindors just stared on
with a mixture of shock and comprehension.
He looked back at the man he was so wrong about and nodded, opening his mouth
to say something, anything. All that came out was a strangled hiss of breath
and the Slytherins erupted into laughter.
Snape straightened himself back up, a smirk on his lips. “Interesting” he said,
looking Harry up and down.
A hot tear rolled down his cheek and Harry brushed it away angrily.
Snape was just like the rest. Just like the Dursleys. How could he have ever of
been so naive as to think he would be different?
Harry turned his head down, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes as tears continued
to silently fall.
“Interesting indeed.” Snape said much softly as he turned and made his way back
to the front of the class. “Settle down.” he snapped at the class. “Potter.
Stay after class. Mister Weasley and Miss Granger, ten point each from
Gryffindor for talking out of turn.”
“But...” Ron started to protest, his body shaking with rage.
“Do you wish to make it more?” Snape asked, sounding for all the world as if he
were genuinely curious.
“Greasy git.” Ron mumbled under his breath before turning his attention to
Harry. “You alright?”
The sincerity of Ron’s concern touched Harry, but did nothing to make him feel
better. He really didn’t feel well.
Harry forced a small smile and nodded. At least Ron was proving to be a real
friend, he thought as he swiped at his tears again.
For the rest of the class, Harry kept his head down, trying his best to ignore
the whispers and stares that he knew was going on around him. Never in all his
life at the Dursley’s, had Harry ever felt this miserable.
TBC
***** Broken *****

Author's notes: Harry was affected by the killing curse more than everyone
thought.
===============================================================================
Chapter 3 Broken
“Potter.” The name was said in a low, silky voice the moment the classroom door
swung shut on the last students to leave. The Weasley boy and Granger had
foolishly stayed behind, rooted to their seats in support of the quiet boy,
making quite the show of defending their fellow Gryffindor. Snape had delighted
in taking another twenty points and assigning two nights detention with Filtch
the Caretaker before the two could be convinced to attend their next class.
Foolish Gryffindors.
Snape leaned slightly back in his chair, studying the boy’s bowed head and
slumped shoulders. The boy looked almost defeated.
Perhaps he had been a little too cruel, but it had to be done. The boy was
developing an attachment to him that was so easily read behind those large
emerald eyes. He could read just about everything from the boy, including the
fact the boy was hiding his disability.
Though why the boy was developing such feelings for him was beyond him. He’d
done nothing to encourage such behavior, and he was going to snip it in the bud
before it grew to something worse.
“Potter,” Snape growled, pushing from his seat to stand.
Still, Harry didn’t look up.
“Potter! You will look at me when I talk to you!” he barked, his patience with
the boy gone.
Harry’s head shot up, obviously started. Snape frowned at that. Perhaps the boy
was still expecting some misconstrued affection from him? Snape sighed. There
was time enough to put the boy in his proper place. “Gather your things and
follow me,” he said, striding towards the door.
Harry scrambled to pull his things together, his insides twisting as he
followed the man. Neither said a word as Snape lead Harry through the halls and
up flights of stairs, and Harry wondered just what the Professor had planed for
him. This new Snape was scary and cruel, and he had no idea what the man might
do.
He struggled to keep up with the mans large strides, and he was panting by the
time Snape finally turned towards a set of double doors.
Snape banged the doors open, noting the slight flinch the act provoked from the
boy as he allowed his eyes to scan the white room.
“Sit,” he said simply, pointing to one of the many beds lining the walls.
Harry blinked at him for a moment before following his finger and climbing up
on a bed, dropping his bag at the foot of it.
Snape nodded his approval and strode over to another door, knocking once before
entering.
Harry looked around the room, realizing that he must be in the schools
infirmary. That got Harry worrying. Just why, exactly, had Snape brought him
here?
He had expected, at the very least, being sent to the Headmasters office and
was fully prepared to be seeing the Dursley’s soon. He hadn’t expected being
sent to the infirmary.
What were they going to do to him?
He had never been to a hospital before, but he had heard the Dursley’s talk
about them before. Doctors made you wear funny gowns that didn't close in the
back and checked to make sure you were all right. Would they make him wear
something like that? If they did, they’d see his scars and battered back. The
Dursley’s had always told him never to let anyone see them, that people would
only think him a worse freak because of them. Harry didn’t want that. But then,
Snape already hated him. That much was clear.
Harry thought back yet again to his day in Diagon Alley with the Professor. Was
he like that then? Had he just never realized it? He suppose he was. Snape had
sneered just about the whole time, but was it because of him or the crowds of
people? He didn’t know. He was still too hurt by the fact that the Professor
wasn’t who he thought he was.
Finally, Snape emerged from behind the door, bringing with him two other
people, the Headmaster and a plump, graying woman who smiled kindly at him.
Harry stared in alarm at the Headmaster and felt his stomach plummet to his
feet. What was going on?
The woman bustled over to him, drawing her wand from the apron around her
waist. “Hello Mr. Potter, I’m Madam Pomfrey, the schools medi-witch,” she said,
her voice clear and radiating warmth. “I’m just going to cast a few spells to
see what’s going on, alright? There’s nothing to worry about, you wont feel a
thing.’
Harry worried his bottom lip between his teeth, feeling his heart pounding
beneath his chest and glanced pleadingly at Snape who sneered in response. He
looked to the Headmaster, hoping for some sort of help, but the old man just
smiled encouragingly at him. Harry swallowed thickly and braced himself, unsure
of what to expect as Madam Pomfrey started mumbling to herself.
Light left her wand and Harry tensed even more as he was enveloped in its glow.
Different hues settled over his body, glimmering faintly before vanishing in no
particular pattern.
Madam Pomfrey frowned and more spells were aimed at him, each one taking longer
than the first. The Headmaster and Professor stayed back while the midi-witch
cast her spells and Harry sighed in relief when she finally pocketed her wand
fifteen minutes later.
She reached over to the bedside cabinet and plucked a quill and parchment that
had apparently recorded everything for her.
“Well,” she finally said as she reached the last page. Her eyes were glistening
when she looked up and she pulled a long breath before continuing. “The hearing
should be an easy fix, but I can find nothing wrong with Mr. Potter’s vocal
cords or his brain pathways. There is evidence of several concussions, but they
are not the reason for his muteness.”
“His hearing, Madam Pomfrey?” Albus asked as he finally came forward to stand
by the bed Harry sat on. He put a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder and
squeezed slightly, giving the boy a quick smile before turning his attention
back to the medi-witch.
Snape stayed by the doors, his arms folded in front of him as he listened
stoically to the conversation.
The medi-witch nodded. “It would seem Mr. Potter has a slight hearing problem.
A recent development if I’m correct,” she said the last to Harry, raising her
voice just a tad for him to understand her better.
Harry nodded. He noticed his hearing going out on him when he was almost nine.
Each beating or cuff to the head made it that much worse, but he never thought
much on it though - it helped block out the hurtful things the Dursley’s always
said to him.
“Albus, the hearing isn’t the worse of it,” Poppy said a little more quietly.
“Oh?”
For a moment it looked as though the witch was about to cry, but she reigned
herself in. “Mr. Potter’s got several broken bones that have never healed
correctly. His legs, arms, ribs... a lot of them are recent, some, several
years old.” She turned back to the boy and smiled softly. “Mr. Potter, would
you please remove your shirt?”
Harry’s eyes widen and he looked at the three adults in panic. They couldn’t
see his body, they couldn’t. It was bad enough Snape hated him already, but for
the man to think him even worse? He didn’t want that. He shook his head wildly
and struggled to get off the bed, startling the Headmaster and medi-witch by
his violent reaction to the request.
He made it passed the bewildered witch, ducking away from their reach as they
tried to placate him. Immediately Snape was by his side and for a moment, Harry
thought he was going to help him.
“Mr. Potter, stop this foolishness at once!” he snapped.
Harry looked at him with pained eyes and shook his head again, continuing to
struggle away from the three adults.
Snape growled and hauled the boy back onto the bed, gripping the boy’s shoulder
tightly to prevent him from trying to take off again. “You will do as you're
told, or I shall do it for you!” he threatened, smirking as the boy’s eyes
widened impossibly.
“Now Severus, there’s no need to be harsh with the boy,” Dumbledore
reprimanded, taking up his spot by the boy’s bed once again.
Harry was shaking like a leaf, the tears threatening to spill again.
“Really! If you’re going to behave like that, you might as well leave. I’ll not
have you scaring my patients!” Poppy glared.
Snape looked between the two and back to the boy whom he still gripped by the
shoulders. He could feel the trembling beneath his fingers and he immediately
let the boy go. He straightened and smoothed his robes, stepping away from the
boy so Poppy could deal with him.
“Thank you.” Poppy said tersely before turning warmer eyes back to the boy.
“Harry dear, I promise nothing bad will happen to you, but I need you to remove
your shirt, alright.”
Harry just shook his head again, a few tears trailing down his face.
Pomfrey lifted her wand again and summoned a vial to her. “Here,” she said
gently as she removed the cork, “this should help. It’ll calm you down.”
Harry took the bottle hesitantly, looking warily at the contents. It didn’t
smell much good.
“Go on,” she encouraged when he looked back up at her and glanced at the other
two men. Taking a deep breath, Harry brought the vial to his lips and drank
down the contents. The medi-witched laughed softly when he made a face at the
taste and Harry gave a very weak smile in return.
The potion was already giving its desired affects, his body suddenly feeling
relaxed and his frazzled emotions calmed. Harry gave a big yawn as his lids
grew heavy. He was suddenly very tired.
“Oh dear. The poor boy must’ve been exhausted for this to affect him this
much,” the medi-witch said softly. “Harry, dear, I need you to remove your
shirt. Then you can lay back and take a nap, what say you to that? Hmm?” she
smiled.
Harry blinked at her and rubbed his eyes with his fists, much like a sleepy
toddler.
“Come on, arms up,” Poppy instructed.
Harry complied, much too tired to argue anymore.
Poppy pulled his shirt up and off and helped him scoot back so he could lay
with his head on the pillow. He sighed into the pillow, feeling more relaxed
than he ever felt and fell right off to sleep.
“Poor boy,” Poppy murmured as she stroked the wild locks from the boy’s
forehead. Gently, she coaxed the sleeping boy to his side and ran her fingers
down his back before gesturing for the other two to join her by her side.
“Merlin,” Snape breathed before he could stop himself. The boy’s back was
littered with scars and fading bruises and his shoulders held finger marks
where he had gripped him in his attempt to hold the boy still. He hadn’t
realized he had hurt him. The boy was also skin and bones. He could easily see
each notch of the boys spinal cord.
“Albus, the boy has clearly been abused. It isn’t a wonder the boy’s mute. He
may never speak, and if he ever does, it’ll only be when he finally feels safe
and secure.”
Albus sighed and sat heavily on the bed behind him. “I’m afraid I’ve made a
terrible decision placing Harry with the Dursley’s,” he said gravely. “I pray
the boy will forgive me that.”
He looked up at the medi-witch. “How long will it take for you to heal him?”
Poppy pursed her lips and scanned the parchment. “I’ll need to re-break his
bones to heal them properly. It’ll be a painful process and he’ll be cooped up
in the infirmary for a week each time. I’m afraid there’s not much to be done
about his broken ribs except bandage him up tight and hope they’ll heal right;
they’ve been broken so many times.
“He’ll need to go on a nutrition diet, foods with plenty of calcium, proteins
and vitamins.
“His hearing should be an easy fix, as I said before, but his equilibrium will
be off for a while,” Poppy sighed. “It’ll take me most of the school year to do
all this Albus. He’ll need time to recoup before each faze. It’ll put him in
too much pain to do all this at once, and that’s something he really doesn’t
need.”
“I understand, Madam Pomfrey. I’m sure Harry’s housemates wont mind bringing
his school work and taking notes for him while he’s here.” He stood and patted
the sleeping boy on the shoulder. “I’ll call a meeting tonight and inform the
others of what’s going on. We’ll also need to find a new guardian to watch over
Harry during the summer hols, but we’ll not worry about that just yet. Just
make him better, Poppy.” Smiling sadly at the sleeping boy, Albus patted his
shoulder once more before leaving Poppy to her work.
“How bad is Mr. Potter’s hearing?” Snape asked after a moment of silence,
moving over to the head of the bed.
Poppy turned to Snape and studied him for a moment before answering. “Pretty
bad. He can hear anything above normal levels, but if there’s a lot of noise
going on, I’d imagine it’d be quite difficult for him to understand anything at
all.”
Snape nodded and before he realized what he was doing, he ran his fingers
though the boy’s hair, brushing a stay strand from his face. He snatched his
hand back when the boy gave a soft sigh of content, curling up around the
pillow. He stared for a moment, assimilating the information with what he
already knew.
No wonder the boy had attached himself to him, he was the only one to get him
away from his “family”.
He drew himself up straight, mentally reinforcing his mask.
“I expect Potter to keep a passing grade in my class,” he said tersely. “Though
I fear he’ll be as abysmal as the rest.”
“I don’t think that should be a problem, Severus, as long as he has his work to
do while he’s here,” Pomfrey answered.
“We shall see,” Snape sneered, turning in a billow of robes and striding out of
the infirmary.
Poppy smiled and shook her head as the double doors swung closed behind the
Potions Master and set about healing Harry.
TBC
***** To Hear *****

Author's notes: Harry was affected by the killing curse more than everyone
thought.
===============================================================================
A/N: Just wanted to say thanks to my reviewers and to appologize for the
lateness of this chap. I'll try to be better about that. Hope you enjoy.
 
Chapter 4 To Hear
 
Someone was humming. It’d been a while since he last heard that kind of sound.
Aunt Petunia always hummed to herself while she cleaned and Harry used to love
listening to her - it always seemed to make her warmer. When she hummed, it was
easy to pretend that she could be kind to him.
Harry sighed and cracked open an eye. He blinked at the blinding light and
struggled to sit up, wanting to know where the sound was coming from.
The humming stopped.
“Good morning,” Madam Pomfrey greeted brightly as she swept over to his side.
Morning?
Poppy smiled at Harry’s small frown. “You slept the night away. I dare say your
body needed it.”
Harry’s eyes widen before blinking up at her, bringing a hand to his ear. Her
voice was so clear. Not once did he have to strain to hear her.
“An easy fix like I suspected,” Madam Pomfrey smiled at him. “Your hearing
should be as good as new, now. Though I do recommend staying put for awhile -
your equilibrium’s going to be off for a bit and I wont have you tumbling down
the stairs.”
Harry stared at her, his eyes tearing up once again. She fixed his hearing?
Poppy stopped her fusing about and laid a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“What’s the matter, child?” she asked in concern as she brushed a tear from his
cheek. Harry sniffed and in the next instant, Poppy had her arms full of boy as
Harry quietly sobbed in gratitude on her shoulder.
“Shh,” she cooed. “Its alright. Everything's alright.”
She rocked him in her arms, offering him the comfort he needed until his sobs
subsided. Gently, she disentangled the boy from her and propped him up on the
bed, tucking the blankets snuggly around him to keep him warm.
“There now, isn’t that better?” she smiled, brushing the hair from the boy’s
face.
Harry nodded, sniffling slightly still. He could feel his chest tightening,
swelling almost painfully around his heart. First Hermione...and now this kind
woman, both with no reason to help him, and yet they did. He sniffed again,
trying to prevent a new wave of tears. He was going to have to thank them both
somehow. They deserved it.
Madam Pomfrey conjured a plate of food and settled the tray across the boy’s
lap, sternly telling him to eat every bite with a warm smile.
Harry smiled back and began picking at the food as the witch fluttered about
the wing, casting spells and jotting down notes. Harry suspected she was doing
so to keep an eye on him, but he didn’t mind. It was the first time someone was
making sure he actually ate. It took awhile, his stomach wanted to protest, but
he managed it all.
“Now Harry, this is what’s going to happen,” the Medi-witch began after she
banished the empty plate. “I want you to come back in for a check up next
Friday after classes, and then we’ll get started on healing your bones
correctly.” She paused for a moment, as if trying to find the right way to
phrase something.
“Harry, has your relatives ever taken you in for a check-up before?”
Harry shook his head and gestured for something to write on.
“Of course,” Poppy smiled, withdrawing a self-ink quill and parchment from her
apron.
“Thank you,” he wrote out first, smiling as he indicated his ears.
“You’re very welcome, Mr. Potter,” she smiled back.
Harry frowned then turned his attention to the next set of words he wanted to
write. “Im not being sent home?”
“No. You’ll not have to worry about that ever again. I can promise you that.”
The relief in the boys eyes was so strong, Poppy couldn’t help but pull him
into another hug. “You’re safe here, Harry. No one can ever touch you within
these walls,” she murmured, rubbing soothing circles on his back.
She could feel the boy’s breath hitching again and let him cry his tears
against her. Merlin knows the boy needed the comfort.
Finally Harry pulled away and swiped his fists across his eyes, trying to dry
his tears. He smiled weakly up at the Medi-witch as she handed him a
handkerchief and blew his nose.
“Keep it,” Poppy grinned when he tried to hand it back. She cast a quick
cleaning spell over it for him. “You never know when you’ll need a good cry.”
Taking a deep breath, Harry sat the cloth to the side and picked up the
forgotten quill and parchment once more.
“How are you going to fix my bones?”
Harry held his breath as he let the Medi-witch read what he wrote. He hoped he
spelled ‘bones’ right.
The Medi-witch sighed. “Its not going to be pleasant, I can tell you that.” At
Harry’s worried look she continued. “You’ll sleep through the worse of it, and
I’ll give you some potions to help with the pain. It wont mask it completely,
I’m afraid, but it needs to be done. If we leave you as you are now, it can
cause complications later on. Do you think you can handle that?”
Harry looked very worried but nodded anyway. He trusted her.
“Harry,” Poppy began again. Hesitantly. “I need to know what your living
conditions were when you were staying with the Dursley’s. Did they ever touch
you? Or do anything else bad?”
Harry bit his lip, his eyes filling with tears once more. He shook his head,
pushing the quill and parchment away from him, not wanting to answer.
“It’s alright, Harry. You don’t have to tell me this instant. But you do need
to tell someone soon. It’ll help to tell someone, to know that someone else
knows, even if they might not understand - it can be quite the stress
reliever.” Madam Pomfrey patted the boy’s legs and stood.
“Get some rest, Mr. Potter. We’ll talk some more when you wake.”
Harry nodded and snuggled back down beneath the blankets. He rubbed at his eyes
and sniffed. He couldn’t tell anyone about the Dursley’s. Even if they did
suspect some things. How could he tell on them when he knew they spoke the
truth?
He sighed, pushing the thoughts away. He was promised he wouldn’t have to see
them again, that would be enough. They didn’t need to know the details.
~~~~
“How is he doing, my dear?” Albus asked as he leaned back in his seat.
“Well enough. The poor boy was so thankful to hear correctly, he broke down in
tears and about clobbered me over,” Poppy said with a sad smile.
“Did he tell you anything?”
“That would be a bit hard, wouldn’t you think?” Snape sneered from his position
by the fire.
“Severus, come now, no need for sarcasm,” Albus chided.
Pomfrey sighed, settling her tea back on the old wizard’s desk. “He didn’t say
anything. Just thanked me for his hearing and asked about his check-up.” She
paused for a second, taking a sip of the tea. “He did ask if he was being sent
home, though. He looked relieved when I told him he would never have to go
back.”
“You did what?” Snape asked, turning back round to glare at the witch.
“Severus, I’m sure Madam Pomfrey was only trying to help,” Albus said, leaning
forward in his chair.
Poppy looked between the two wizards, her eyes narrowing. “What?” she asked.
“What am I not getting?”
Albus signed, running his hand through his long white beard. “Until Mr. Potter
tells us exactly what’s been going on and how he got into such a state, I’m
afraid there’s little we can do.”
“What!” Poppy stood, dropping her tea to the floor unnoticed. She stared down
at the Headmaster, her anger and confusion radiating off her in waves. “But
that’s...that’s ridicules. The boy’s malnourished, his bones are in a sad
state, and not to mention the bruises and scars that’s littering his skin.
Albus, how can you not do anything? The proof’s all there!”
“I know, my dear, I know,” Albus answered, the twinkle in his blue eyes long
gone. “But I’m afraid it’s not up to me. It would appear that the Minister
needs more than just supposition. The boy could of gotten those injuries from
other sources. It’s our job to get the boy to admit what’s been done to him,
only then will he be allowed to be taken from the Dursley’s.”
“He’s not going to talk, Albus, at least not anytime soon. He doesn’t feel safe
enough for that yet,” Poppy sighed as she sank back into her seat.
“We have all year, my dear,” Albus reminded. He turned to Serverus and studied
the man for a moment. Snape narrowed his eyes, not liking the look that was
passing over the Headmasters face, a look that said he just came up with what
he thought was a brilliant idea.
“No,” Snape said gently before the old fool could open his mouth. The damn
twinkling was back and growing brighter with each shake of the Potion Masters
head.
“My dear boy, you don’t even know what I’m going to say,” Albus all but
laughed.
“I don’t care. Whatever you’re thinking, no. I refuse to be part of you wily
concoctions.”
“Come now, Severus, my concoctions are not wily, as you so put it.”
Snape snorted. “Whatever it is, my answers no,” he said, standing his ground.
He was not going to give in this time. No matter what the old man said, he was
not going to break down and follow along.
“Severus, he trusts you,” Albus said with seriousness.
“Not after that display yesterday,” Snape reminded, smirking to himself. He
knew it was the right decision to turn the boy away from him. Severus Snape was
not a nice man after all.
Poppy stared between the two men, her eyes widening as she realized what the
Headmaster was trying to get at.
“Severus, if I may be so bold...”
“You may not,” Snape cut in, turning his glare to the woman.
Poppy continued, ignoring the man’s heated glare. “The boy looks up to you. Or,
he did. He turned to you when he was searching for help yesterday, if you were
to give him reason to trust you, I’m sure he would do just that. It could prove
helpful in the long run.”
“I’m not doing it,” Snape insisted.
“Severus, you know what Harry’s going through, to a certain extent at least,”
she said. “How could you let the poor boy go back to those...people?”
Snape glared at the two, feeling his resolve starting to slip. Damn, but he was
going to regret this, he just knew it. He sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his
nose - he could feel a headache coming on.
“Please, Severus,” Albus pushed gentle, glancing quickly to the Medi-witch.
“Fine,” Snape huffed, dropping his hand and crossing his arms. “But I do not
see how any of this is going to work. Even if the boy can trust me again, I
doubt he’ll be willing to share his experience.”
“I’m sure you can think of something, my boy,” Albus smiled. “Perhaps teaching
the boy wordless spells will give you a start? From what I understand from the
other professors, Harry’s spell work is quite poor, though he has managed to
cast a few spells.”
“Really?” Poppy cut in. “That’s quite fascinating. He could be quite the
powerful wizard to learn wordless spells at such a young age.”
“Indeed,” Snape said dryly, fighting his desire to roll his eye’s at the two.
Albus beamed, clapping his hands together in delight. “Come now, Severus, have
some tea,” he offered, pouring the man a cup of the steaming liquid.
Snape sighed in defeat and settled himself in the chair next to Poppy’s, trying
hard to ignore the two smiling faces. This was going to come back and bite him
in the arse, he just knew it.
~~~
“Shh! He’s asleep, be quiet,” a girls voice spoke softly.
“I am being quiet,” another voice answered back. Harry could hear the scrapping
of a chair sliding across the floor followed by the rustling of cloth as his
curtains were drawn back.
“No you’re not! Stop making so much racket,” the girl snapped.
“Lay off, Hermione, you’re being just as noisy.”
Harry smiled to himself as he turned onto his back and stretched, thankful that
the two had come to visit.
“Now look what you did! You woke him up,” Hermione scolded as Harry opened his
eyes and yawned widely. He bit his lip, trying to hide his smile as Ron rolled
his eyes at the girl.
Hermione huffed at the red head before turning her attention back to the boy on
the bed. “How are you doing? You never showed up for the rest of classes
yesterday and when you didn’t return to the dorms last night, well, we got a
bit worried,” she said, looking in concern at Harry as she helped him to sit
up.
Harry closed his eyes again as a wave of dizziness washed over him at the
sudden movement. He guessed the dizziness was what the Medi-witch had meant
about his equilibrium being off. He opened his eyes once the spell had passed
to find Hermione frowning at him. He smiled and shrugged, the only thing he
could do to show he was fine.
“That greasy bat didn’t do anything to you, did he? Is that why you’re here?”
Ron asked, pulling his chair even closer to the bed.
Harry shook his head and smiled weakly. No, his professor didn’t do anything,
just opened his eyes to the fact that he wasn’t who he thought he was.
“So, why are you here then, Harry?” Ron asked.
Harry just stared at him before shrugging and looking down at his lap. It’s not
like he was able to tell him, and even if he could, Harry wasn’t sure if he’d
want to. He found himself extremely grateful that the Medi-witch had retrieved
her quill and parchment while he slept.
“Ow! Why’d you kick me?” Ron spluttered as he gave Hermione a bewildered look,
rubbing at his injured leg.
“Really Ronald, is it so hard to think before you speak?” Hermione chided as
she glared at him.
The red head just looked at her in confusion, mumbling under his breath about
psychotic woman as he tucked his legs beneath himself, away from the girls
reach.
Hermione glared at him, trying not to kick the red head again. “Here, Harry,”
she said instead, digging through her satchel and retrieving a chunk of
parchment. “I took notes for you. I figured you didn’t want to fall behind so
soon in the term. If you need any help, just ask, I’ll help you with them.”
“How come you didn’t offer to help me?” Ron asked with a pout.
“Because you attended the class and should of paid attention,” Hermione
countered.
“Oh,” was all Ron could figure to say.
Harry scanned through the parchments and smiled at Hermione.
“You're welcome,” Hermione smiled back. “Oh, I owled my mum last night,” she
stated. “I asked her if she could send any books on sign language. I figured
that it’d be easier for us all if we learned how to understand you.”
“Huh?” Ron asked. “What’s that?”
“Sign language. Its where people who are either mute or deaf speak with their
hands,” she answered. She smiled at Harry. “I bet you’d be able to help teach
us pretty quick.”
Harry looked blankly at the girl and shook his head from side to side. He
didn’t know much sign language at all, aside from the necessary thank you and
sorry a couple teachers managed to teach him.
Vernon didn’t see any use in him learning the language, said it was a waste of
time for a freak to learn something when no one could give a damn about it.
Harry shook himself from his thoughts to find Hermione frowning at him again.
He gave her a questioning look and tilted his head to the side.
“Harry...you do know sign language, don’t you?” she asked, that concerned look
she had when he first woke up graced her face again.
Harry tried to smile, but knew he failed miserably. He shook his head again,
looking back down at his lap.
Hermione was quiet for a moment before she smiled gently and touched him on his
arm to get his attention. “Then I guess we’ll all just have to learn together,”
she smiled.
A small smile bloomed on Harry’s lips as he looked back up at the girl, not
seeing any condemnation in her at all. He nodded. He would love to learn how to
communicate with his new friends without the use of written words.
“Alright, that’ll be enough for now, you three, Harry needs to get some more
rest if he’s to return back to the dorms tonight,” Madam Poppy said as she
entered the wing.
She made her way over to Harry’s bed side, fluffing his pillow and tucking the
blankets snuggly around him. She smiled down at him before turning and facing
the two Gryffindor’s, her hands on her hips.
“And just how did you know he was here anyway?” she asked them with a stern
look.
Harry could hear Ron gulp as he tried to fall deeper into his chair.
“We guessed, ma’am,” Hermione answered. “Harry never returned to the dorms last
night and we figured that it was because he was here. We were worried about
him.”
Poppy smiled at the two, dropping her stern stance. “Mr. Potter will be
perfectly fine to return back to his dorm by dinner,” she said. “No need to
worry any more.”
“Why was he here anyway?” Ron asked again, earning a smack from Hermione. He
glared at her again, rubbing his arm.
“That is for Mr. Potter to tell you if he so wishes,” Poppy answered. turning
to fuss over Harry once more, conjuring a tray of food for him. “Now, I suggest
you let Harry eat in peace.”
“Alright,” Hermione agreed. “We’ll see you at dinner, Harry.”
“Yeah, mate. See you there.”
Harry nodded and waved his two friends goodbye, stifling a small yawn. He
smiled as he felt the Medi-witch brush his hair off his face before patting him
on the arm.
“Get some food down first, Harry, then you can go back to resting, alright?”
she ordered gently, placing the stack of parchments on the bedside table.
Harry sighed, content to do just that.
 
TBC
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