Carry On

Chapter 3

  I took a deep breath. Merlin, why was I doing this? I couldn't think of an answer. I took a few more breaths, trying desperately to calm myself. Hermione laid her hand on my arm in an attempt to comfort me. I took one more, rather futile, calming breath, and began.
  "Well, I guess I should start at the beginning. Do you remember what I told you about the Dursley's? How they didn't like magic?" She nodded. "I didn't tell you everything." The hand on my arm began to rub comforting circles. I took a final breath before telling her in earnest. "They were awful. They didn't see me as a child, they saw me as a slave and servant to them. I was to do all of the chores and cook all of the meals. I would do so quietly and without complaint. I learned that rule when I was about four." I muttered the last part. "My 'bedroom' was the cupboard under the stairs. They didn't give me an actual room until second year. The worst part was the punishments. They..." Hermione could see how I was struggling with this part.
  "It's okay Harry. It's alright." She sped the movement of her hand, offering as much comfort as she could.
  "Whenever I did something wrong, spoke out, or did anything they deemed 'freaky,' they would punish me, though it was mostly Uncle Vernon. The first time I was four. I had complained about having to weed and plant the entirety of the garden, so he made sure I didn't do that again. It started with just a simple slap, but he kept going. He... beat me until I could barely move. Then he threw me into my cupboard, and I didn't get food for a week. As I got older the... beatings got worse. I still have scars. They would starve me, and scream at me that I was a freak, a waste of space, that I should've died with my parents..." I trailed off, desperately trying to gain control of my emotions. I wasn't going to cry, not in front of Hermione.
  "Oh Harry, that's awful." Hermione said, tears already steaming down her face. She went to hug me, but I stopped her with a hand.
  "That's not all of what I have to tell you." She hesitated, but nodded after a moment. "When I got to school for first year, I was so excited. Then Dumbledore sent me back for the summer holidays. And he kept sending me back, no matter how much I begged him not to. It was horrible. And then, after everything that happened in fourth year with Moody, the tournament, and... Cedric... That's when the nightmares started. And as time wore on, things kept getting worse and worse, until the summer before sixth year. I thought I was alone. I had just lost Sirius. I was stuck with the Dursley's, with no reprieve. That was the first time that I... That I..." I felt a tear escape from one of my eyes. I quickly wiped it away, hoping Hermione didn't notice. But of course, I was wrong.
  "Harry, what did you do?" She asked softly, concern and fear ringing in her voice.
  "I grabbed one of the razors from Vernon's toolbox..." I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, or look her in the eyes. This is where she yells that I'm a freak that deserves it. I didn't expect it when she hugged me. I didn't expect the pure emotion in her voice.
  "Oh Harry, I'm so sorry! I could've stopped this! Harry, I'm so so sorry." She cried. I was frozen on the spot. Why is she apologizing? I should be the one apologizing. Why isn't she looking down on me in disgust? Why isn't she leaving the room, and telling everyone at Hogwarts?
  "It's okay Hermione. It's not your fault." I said, still shocked and confused at her reaction. She must have finally gotten control of herself again, because she sat up, though her hand was still firmly in place on my arm.
  "Harry. Do you still have nightmares? Do you still... You know...?" I paused, battling with myself for a moment, before nodding slightly. "Harry, if things are even half as bad as you are saying, which I'm sure it's far more than that knowing you, then you need to see Madame Pomfery." I started to say no, I couldn't do that. How was I supposed to tell her, when I could barely tell one of my best friends? "Harry, you need to. You are barely sleeping, even I can see that, and eating even less. You must know that this isn't healthy." She looked at me, eyes filled with concern.
  "I can't, 'Mione. I just-I can't." I looked down. Why did I tell her? Why couldn't I have managed to keep this all a secret? Sometimes I envied Malfoy, he could keep a mask on.
  "Harry-" she was interrupted by a knock on the door. I jumped up to get it. Behind me, Hermione was wiping evidence of her tears away. I opened the door, expecting to see Neville or Dean wondering why we were taking so long, but was surprised to see the Headmistress standing on the other side.
  "Pardon the interruption, Mr. Potter, but I need to speak with you," she glanced at Hermione still in my bedroom, "in private." Hearing that, Hermione left, giving me a meaningful look as she passed. Clearly this was not the end of our discussion. "Come with me please." She turned and walked away, not bothering to look and see if I was following.
  After reaching the bottom of several flights of stairs, we reached a corridor that I found all too familiar. I had come this way many times during sixth year for the 'extra lessons' that Dumbledore gave me. I quickly changed my train of thought from the last time I had seen the man living, or when I had seen him in death. We finally reached the gargoyle protecting the headmistress's office. I guess they managed to fix it, then.
  "Sherbet Lemon." I heard McGonagall speak the password, the same one as it had been the first time I went to the headmaster's office.
  "Excuse me, professor? What did you want to speak to me about?" I asked, desperately trying to avoid looking at the office, as it was kept almost exactly the same as the last time I had entered it.
  "Mr. Potter, I wanted to see how you were doing. If I'm being perfectly frank with you, I am surprised you even accepted the invitation back here. You have a lot of memories here, not all good ones. I wouldn't blame you if you asked to leave." I was shocked by her words. This definitely seemed out of character for the professor.
  "I'm fine, professor. Hogwarts is my home. I couldn't turn down an invitation to come back. But I did want to speak with you about something. I was wondering if I could change my classes?" I asked, hoping that McGonagall would move on from the subject.
  "Yes, of course. What profession were you looking at? If I remember correctly, you were originally going towards being an auror?" She said.
  "I don't think I would want to do that anymore. I think I've had enough of dark wizards for a lifetime." She nodded in understanding. "I was wondering what courses I had to take to become a Defense teacher?" I said, a bit nervously. I had thought about it over the summer holidays. I really did love doing it, and it was my favorite and best class.
  "That is a fine profession Mr. Potter. You are already taking most of the classes to become a professor. All you need is Care of Magical Creatures. Do you want me to add that to your classes, or do you want it to take another's place?" She asked, pulling out a quill and parchment.
  "Is there any way I can have it take the place of Divination?" I asked. McGonagall nodded, writing it down.
  "Well Mr. Potter, if that is all, then I think you should head down for dinner." She said. I turned towards the staircase. "And Mr. Potter? If you have any issues, my door is open to you." I nodded, and walked down the stairs to the Great Hall.

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  I walked into the Great Hall, barely looking up. I didn't want to see the empty seats of those who should have  come back. I saw Neville and Dean waving me over to sit with them.
  "Hey, mate. I saw you leave with McGonagall. What'd you do?" Dean asked. Neville looked at me curiously.
  "Oh, she wanted to see me about my classes. Where's 'Mione?" I asked. I decided not to tell them about McGonagall's open door policy. They both shrugged.
  "She's in the common room." I heard a familiar voice say behind me. I quickly turned, and saw Malfoy. Though it was odd to see him without his usual sneer.
  "Oh, okay Malfoy. Thanks?" I looked at the others, who seemed to be just as confused as I was.
  "Honestly Potter, do you think I'm going to attack you? You asked a simple question about Granger, correct? I answered it. Not everything is a scheme against you or your Gryffindor friends." He said, a sneer firmly in place. For some strange reason, I couldn't detect any of his usual disdain in his voice, or honestly in his sneer. He walked over to the Slytherin table before I could respond.
  I looked at Neville and Dean, both shrugged. I just decided to leave it alone. At least my question was answered.