The-Boy-Who-Lived/Neglected/Lied/Abounded/Betrayed/Fed Up/Left/Tortured /kills

Don't get mad, get apathetic

Harry looked around the hospital wing – again – with growing disquiet. He was practically wallowing in self-pity, but as another post-cruciatus tremor shook him, he thought he deserved a good sulk.

No matter which way his thoughts turned, trouble awaited.

He didn't have to take his end of year tests, but next year was OWLs. And he was increasingly worried that he had picked inane electives just to please his bully of a "friend," Ronald Bloody Weasley.

Friends. He had none. Maybe Hermione. But maybe she only helped him because he saved her life. Hadn't the Headmaster said something about life debts with the rat? Not that it had stopped the rat from slicing Harry up for some Voldemort soup. Yukk.

Dumbledore didn't ring true, either. Every bloody year, something happened that the Headmaster should have known about, should have prevented. Maybe, just maybe the dementors from last year were excusable. Maybe, even with all his grand-poobah powers and titles, the Headmaster couldn't stand up for an innocent man and require a trial for that man, instead forcing two 13 year olds to do the dirty work.

But how could he not put together what Hermione put together in second? A muggleborn with less than 2 years education could put the pieces together faster than Dumbledore? And what about first year? How could he bring a bloody Philosopher's Stone – dark lord bait if there ever was any – into a school? Again, maybe, just maybe it was all coincidence.

But this year, this year topped it. Wasn't Moody supposed to be among the Headmaster's besties? Dumbledore never noticed that it was some death eater under polyjuice? And what was with that look of joy when Harry admitted that his own blood was used in the resurrection stew? Harry knew how to watch adults – what the look in their eyes meant.

Speaking of asshole adults: Yet again, he'd be going to Privet Drive. And wow, they were sure to treat him well after the Margesplosion of last summer. He'd be lucky to get a meal a day and forced hard labor.

What was he going to do?

He noticed then that hot chocolate had appeared on the tray next to his table. He smiled. Hogwarts never let him down. Or rather, the elves of Hogwarts never let him down.

Elves.

He stopped mid-cup-lift. The warmth of the steam off the cocoa tickled his nose as he argued with his conscience.

Then, he realized there was no argument.

Checking to make sure he was alone, he gently called, "Winky?"

The elf popped to him, staggered a little, but looked at him with weary, desperate eyes.

"Little wizard calls Winky?"

"Winky, do you have a home yet?"

"Winky is still being disgraced elf," she confirmed, her eyes watering.

"Winky, I don't have a home of my own, but I would love for you to be a part of my family if it will help you."

Her eyes, impossibly, seemed to widen. "Harry Potter would take elf of family that tried to kill him?"

Harry looked straight at her. "Harry Potter would be proud to have such a stalwart, honest, hard-working elf in his family."

Winky started to cry, and Dobby appeared. He looked at Harry with shock. "Great Harry Potter woulds not hurt Winky elf?" he stated/asked.