The Journey

12. Tears Unshed

! Slight mention of abuse !

Harry had left Snape in Privet Drive and had apparated to a town just outside of Surrey.  His head was throbbing, his stomach was churning, as if he was going to lose his lunch.  Lunch.  Now that seemed hours ago, and when he cast a Tempus charm, he saw that it had indeed been a while since he had eaten.  It was just before 11pm.  Surely they hadn't been that long at the cursed Dursley house.  Oh well, better find a place soon Harry, he scolded himself.  If I catch my death out here, the whole purpose of this would be for nothing, he thought.

He found an open Inn in the deserted street, paid for a room, and closed the door softly behind him.  He had asked for some sustenance, and was told it would be brought to his room.  When it did indeed arrive, his appetite had left him.  There was no way that he would be able to swallow anything right now.  His thoughts were swirling, as if he had just been in a head-on-collision with death itself.  

Grateful that Snape had left him, he sank to his knees in exhaustion.  Tears started flowing down his cheeks again.  Tears for what he had gone through all those years, the hate, the prejudice, everything.  Tears that were meant to be shed all those years ago, like when he scraped his knee outside and asked for a plaster, getting nothing but a slap across the face.  Tears for all the pain and the lies.  Tears at losing his parents without even knowing them.  Tears for being an orphan.

Tears for being raised away from a world that had made him happy beyond any measure that he ever would have thought possible.  Tears for Hogwarts, because she had lived through two wars and not one.  Tears that he and his friends had been in the middle of one.  Tears that people he had known were no longer alive.  Tears that children who actually did have parents, were taught that to hate is okay.  To be better than others is okay.

He cried and cried, shedding even more tears for his friends that were probably disgusted at what they knew about him now.  Tears at the way that Draco and his gang had always insulted him because they were told to do so.  Tears, that someone that he had admired and looked up to, had betrayed him in the worst way possible.  

Harry just kept crying.  First sobbing hysterically, and when he thought he had no more tears to cry, he would hiccup, and shake with tremors of what was still going to happen on his journey.  He fell asleep soon after, on the floor where he had fallen.  Not even bothering to undress, or make his way to the bed.  He hardly slept that night, his dreams and nightmares rolling into one, and was awake before the sun rose.

Still lying on the floor, he looked around and realized where he was.  Groaning in his deep voice, he sat up slowly.  Wincing at a pain in his back from sleeping on the cold floor, he got up and headed straight for the showers.  Harry loved the scalding hot water hitting his very muscular back, trying to ease the tension there.  Washing his hair and lathering his body with the musk scented body wash, he stayed there until he felt the water start to turn cold.

He dried off, got dressed in casual sweatpants and T-shirt with no shoes.  No travelling would be done today, he thought.  He was going to gain his strength by staying where he was.  But how was he going to keep himself busy.  Looking around, his eyes fell on a box.  Oh!  The box that his cousin had given him yesterday.  Without sparing another thought on the idiot, he picked up the box, sat down on his bed, and proceeded to open it.

With shaking hands, he removed the first item.  It was a ring box.  Black and glossy.  He opened it, not expecting the ring to still be there.  Only it was.  And it was beautiful.  It was sterling silver, a coiled snake with green emerald eyes.  Stunning, he thought.  But what would my mother be doing with a snake ring, he wondered while he ran his fingers over it.  

The emerald eyes blinked at him.

Thinking he was going crazy, he removed the ring, and put it on the middle finger of his right hand.  He felt a soft tingle when the ring sized itself to fit him, almost jumped off the bed from fright when the ring, or rather the snake, started to talk to him.  

The Potter hatchling, I presume?

His eyes wide, he didn't answer.  He wasn't sure if it was from shock that a ring was speaking to him and he could understand it, or if it was the fact that the snake knew who he was.  The snake hissed again, pulling him out of his revere.

"Um, yes.  My name is Harry.  Harry Potter", he answered in Parseltongue.

You are troubled hatchling, hissed the snake.  Harry had no idea what was going on, and chose to remain silent.  If the snake wanted answers, he was going to have to work for them.  He didn't particularly trust anyone right now.  Not even himself.   

I will join you on your journey, for mine is also not over yet, the snake said.  And with that, he coiled in towards himself, and lay still on Harry's finger, as if he went to sleep.  Harry wanted to know more, but figured the snake was also reeling from the fact that he had been saved from a box.  How long had he been in there?  He had so many questions, but those would have to wait.  He liked the feel of the ring on his finger, put the ring box down, and started digging into the rest of what his mother had left for him.  

There was a framed photo of his parents, one that he hadn't seen before.  They were in a park, his mother on a swing, and his father was pushing her.  The image made him smile, watching them move and laugh at their own antics.  There was a beautiful quill, with glorious colors of a peacock feather, greens and blues, an old coaster that read "Better With Butterbeer", and last of all there was a notebook.  A very thick, leather bound and locked notebook.  

Harry was intrigued.  He knew that his journey had to continue, but he had promised himself rest today, so after sending a request for breakfast, he lay down on the bed and waited for it to arrive.  Wrestling with himself if he should read something so private, he decided he would make his final decision after a full stomach.  Probably better that way.

Harry felt drained from the previous night, recalling everything that had been said and done.  From his breakfast with Snape, to him leaving Privet Drive.  He replayed over everything, and felt lighter.  He had forgiven his abusers, and wasn't that a revelation.  He wondered if the roles had been reversed, would they have done the same.  Wrapped up in thoughts of what had happened, and what was still to come, there was a knock on his door, announcing breakfast was served.