His Secret

Sirius stepped out of the darkness of the living room and into the fiery glow which was emitted off the gas lamps in the gloomy hall of 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry looked up at his godfather, glittering emerald eyes meeting warm grey ones, and smiled. For the first time in weeks he felt safe and wanted.

Sirius hugged Harry, but as Sirius' hands made contact with Harry's back Sirius could feel Harry flinch, if he could see Harry's face he would have seen a look of pain cross it. Motioning for Harry to follow him, Sirius headed back into the living room. Closing the door behind him, Sirius muttered “Lumos” and the lights flickered on.

“So, Harry, how've you been?” Sirius asked,

“All right I suppose, what about you?” Sirius gave a sigh of relief, the way Harry had flinched away had worried him.

“Fine, let's go find some food.” Harry looked a bit confused, why had Sirius made him come to a room just to ask if he was OK?

But just as Harry turned to the door Sirius saw the tiniest bit of exposed skin above his neck line, whether this was just a rash or something bigger to explain the flinching, Sirius needed to know.

“Harry take off your shirt.” Harry gaped at Sirius.

“Wh-what?”

“Take off your shirt.”

“I'd rather not thanks.” Harry replied, suddenly cool.

“I'm your godfather, do as you're told.” Sirius matched Harry's cold tone.

Do as you're told. Those words were always coupled with a punishment.

“Please don't make me.” Harry's voice had suddenly become fearful. “They told me never to show anybody.” Sirius was startled by the sudden voice change.

“Harry.” He said softly, Harry looked away stubbornly. “Harry, look at me.” Sirius took Harry by the chin and turned his face to him.

“I can't.” Harry managed to choke out. His world was falling apart his one big secret. The one thing nobody could find out. Tears began to cascade down his cheeks.

“Please Harry, I want to help.” Sirius was begging now.

“Fine.” Harry sobbed, they'd kill him if they found out he'd told, but Sirius wouldn't leave him alone unless he told now.

Harry pulled off his shirt to reveal a horrific sight. Across his chest were dozens of red whelps, slits and bruises, some looked new, others were crusted and most looked infected. The most noticeable of all however were words which seemed to have been branded into him, they looked quite new too. They spelt out ALL YOUR FAULT. Sirius didn't know what to think, he couldn't help but notice how Harry's ribcage stuck out.

“Turn around.” he whispered. The back was worse, more whelps, slits and bruises but worst of all, more words. Across his shoulder blades the word BURDEN stood out, looking older more like scars that would never fade, and across his lower back was the word FREAK.