Carry On

Chapter 6

  It had been a week since the bogart scene in Defense. The rumors had yet to die down. Everyone knew about the bogart, and about what it turned into. Though, not everyone knew that it was a memory. Only a few even knew that it was Uncle Vernon that came out of the wardrobe. Everyone either thought that he had a bad life and deserved pity, or that he was just seeking attention. Shockingly, only a few Slytherins were in the latter category. Unfortunately, most of the school wasn't quite as wise.
  "Hey! Potter!" Someone called from behind me on my way to Potions. I rolled my eyes, and turned around. Hermione walked a few steps before realizing I wasn't next to her, and turned towards me, and then the owner of the mocking voice.
  "Harry, don't." She warned.
  "Yeah, Potter. Don't want me to out you, right!" Smith shouted. I just glared. "Oh, I'm in for it now." He laughed.
  "Smith, just stop. I don't have time for this right now." I sighed. He's been at this for a week, and it was honestly tiring. I would rather be fighting with Malfoy again, at least he was witty. In fact, Malfoy had barely said a word to me, or any Gryffindor since our talk in the Hospital Wing. Maybe he really had changed, and meant it when he apologized.
  "Oh, I'm sorry. Should I get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness, oh great Chosen One?" He sneered. Just as I was about to respond, I heard a familiar aristocratic voice come from behind me.
  "Yes, actually. I'm sure everyone would love to be witness to that." Hermione and I turned, seeing a pale haired wizard behind me, his classic sneer on his face. He glanced at me, before returning to Smith. "Well? I thought you were going to beg." Malfoy sneered, pure venom in his voice.
  "Shut it Malfoy. No one cares what Death Eater scum like you has to say. You deserve to rot in Azkaban with your father." Smith responded, scowling. I visibly saw Malfoy stiffen. "Oh, did I hit a nerve?" I watched Malfoy clench his fists, knuckles going white.
  "Don't talk about things you don't understand, Smith." He spat out the name like a curse.
  "Oh, I understand. Your little Death Eater friends don't like that they lost, so now you're sucking up to the boy who killed your great and powerful Dark Lord."
  I barely knew what happened. One moment, I was watching Malfoy and Smith insult each other, and the next I was on top of Smith, my fist connecting with the other boys face repeatedly until I heard a satisfying crack. My fist hurt, but I didn't care. I kept going. More and more blood was appearing on his face and my fist.
  "Harry! Stop!" I heard Hermione scream. Someone was pulling me off.
  "Mr. Potter! Mr. Smith! Stop this instant!" I was pulled to my feet, only to see a very angry Headmistress. "I am very surprised at you. Twenty points from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Now both of you, go to the Hospital Wing. If I catch you fighting again, you will both have detention." She said. Smith looked upset.
  "But Potter attacked me!" He shouted.
  "And you provoked him. Now go before I decide to give you detention anyway." She dismissed us. I looked down, trying not to upset the already enraged Professor any further. As we walked away I saw Hermione, looking very upset, and a very stunned Malfoy standing a few feet behind her.
  By the time we reached the Hospital Wing, I was nearly to the breaking point again with all of the muffled complaints coming from the Hufflepuff. We walked in, Madame Pomfery waiting for us.
  "Mr. Smith, come here. Mr. Potter, please wait on the bed." We both did as we were told, not wanting to get into anymore trouble than we already were. I sat on the bed, waiting for Madame Pomfery to fix Smith's face. I was strangely satisfied at the amount of damage I was able to inflict without a wand. I heard a knock on the door, and was surprised to see Malfoy standing there.
  "Do you need something, Mr. Malfoy?" The Mediwitch asked.
  "I was asked to bring Potter and Smith's things here." He responded, holding up the two bags that contained our books.
  "Alright Mr. Malfoy." She said, turning back to continue to work on Smith. Malfoy set his things beside the bleeding boy, and approached me. He set my bag down beside the bed I was sat on.
  "I suppose you expect me to thank you, Potter?" He asked. Strangely, the question didn't hold any malice, though leaking with sarcasm.
  "Not at all, Malfoy. Smith deserved it." I smirked when I heard an indignant  noise from where Smith was being treated. "He had no right to call you a Death Eater." Malfoy flinched at the term.
  "I can fight my own battles." He said, clearly defensive. "But, I do appreciate it." He sighed. "Though I must admit, I am surprised how much damage you inflicted, despite your rather... thin frame." He said, sounding almost impressed.
  "Whatever, Malfoy. Thanks for bringing my things. And for helping me out earlier." I said, remembering the reason Smith insulted him in the first place.
  "I could never discard a chance to insult a bloody prat. I'm afraid I must take my leave, some of us still have to go to Potions." He said, turning to leave.
  "Can't say I'm disappointed for missing that class." I muttered. Though Malfoy must have heard me, as he raised his eyebrow.
  "Honestly Potter, it really isn't all that difficult. Maybe if you paid attention, you would be able to have a class without losing house points." He said, smirking. "Goodbye Potter. I'll tell Snape why you have missed yet another class." He said, leaving the Hospital Wing. I rolled my eyes. I wouldn't realize until that night that I had had an entire conversation with Malfoy without any real insults.
  I left the Hospital Wing about an hour later, Madame Pomfery insisting I take potions for my eating habits. I had sighed and took the potion after arguing with the Mediwitch for a time. It was lunch hour, so I immediately went to the Great Hall. I still looked down when I walked in, though for another reason than before. Neville and Hermione waved me over to where they were sitting.
  "Where's Dean?" I asked. The boy rarely ever missed a meal. I also didn't want the conversation to turn towards what had happened earlier.
  "Detention." Hermione answered. "How are you feeling Harry?" She asked.
  "I'm fine, 'Mione." I put a few pieces of fruit and bread on my plate, eating more than I usually would. The potion must be working. I looked up to see the concern on Hermione's face. "How many times must I tell you that I'm fine?" I asked in exasperation.
  "I'm sorry Harry. I'm just worried. Especially after your outburst earlier." She needlessly admitted. I gave her a look, hoping she'll drop the subject. Luckily, she did. "Here's the notes and assignment from potions. Also, a letter from Ron came in during free period." She said, handing me a few pieces of parchment. I thanked her and took them.
  I hadn't spoken to Ron since the summer holidays, and even then it was strained at best. I just couldn't look at him, or any of the Weasley's without an overwhelming sense of guilt washing over me. I know I was the reason that Fred died, why George lost his other half. Seeing them, and the grief in their eyes, only made it worse.
  We continued eating until we heard the bell sound, ending our lunch period. We left the Great Hall, Neville and I leaving for Care of Magical Creatures, and Hermione for Arithmacy. Neville and I walked down to Hagrid's hut quietly, only a few words spoken. We were one of the first to arrive, so I decided to go talk to Hagrid. I said goodbye to Neville, and walked towards the half giant.
  "Hullo 'arry. 'Ow are ya? 'Aven't seen ya in awhile." He spoke.
  "I'm alright, Hagrid. It's kind of strange, though. Not having a psychotic wizard after you every moment of your life." I said. Even now, I found it easier to talk to Hagrid than to any of my friends.
  "'Opefully ya don' 'ave to worry 'bout that again. Better start class. It was good talkin with ya again, 'arry." He said, moving towards the front of the group of gathered students. I walked back over to Neville, listening to Hagrid talk about dragons, one of his favorite beasts. I glanced around at the students, as this was one of the only all eighth year classes. Aside from Neville and I, there weren't many Gryffindors. It was mostly Ravenclaws, with a few scattered Hufflepuffs. I was shocked to find that the only Slytherins were none other than Draco Malfoy and his best friend Blaise Zabini. Just as I looked at Malfoy, he glanced up. He gave me a questioning glance before I quickly looked away, feeling my cheeks heat up. I cannot believe that Malfoy had caught me staring at him. That was a bit embarrassing.
  "Harry, what's wrong?" I heard Neville ask from beside me.
  "Nothing, Nev. It's nothing." I responded quickly, not wanting to worry the other boy.
  "Okay, Harry." He said, returning his attention to Hagrid, who was now covering the eating habits that most dragons have in common.
  After receiving our assignment from Hagrid, Neville and I both went in the direction of our common room, as it was our free period. I could still hear people say things about me in the hallways, though I usually managed to ignore them. That is, until I heard one particular fourth year.
  "...killed them. Even those on the light side." I heard her say, and I froze. It was only for a moment, as I didn't want to worry Neville. But her words cut deep, deeper than anything ever had before.
  Even the younger years know it. Know that you're a murderer. How many people have you killed? All because you were scared. Because you didn't want to die. So they did instead. You killed them. So many people. You killed them. The voice, which had been relatively quiet the past few days, came back with a vengeance. I had to resist the urge to scratch at my cuts. Neville might notice that, and I didn't want him to know. We reached the entrance to the common room then, and Neville spoke the password. I tried to walk in casually, hoping I looked normal.

Trigger warning!! Self harm!!

  I glanced at Neville and made some excuse about getting a book, before running up to my room. I set my bag down on my bed, and walked over to my trunk. I froze when I looked and saw that my blade was gone. I only then remembered that Neville flushed it. It was the only one I had managed to get during my stay at the Dursley's, and I had been using it since. I wouldn't be able to get one from the kitchens or one of the classrooms, and I didn't know any spell that could have the affect that I wanted. I desperately ran over to the toilet, beginning to panic. I needed that blade. It was my only release.
  "Accio blade." I said, pointing my wand into the bowl, but to no avail. I leaned against the wall behind me. I set down my wand and began to scratch at my already existing cuts, hoping that it would be enough. It wasn't, but it was all I could manage right now. I scratched until my emotions became mostly manageable, hoping it would last for at least awhile. I looked down at them, but saw nothing, as I still had a glamour on.

Trigger warning over!!

  I quickly grabbed the book I had told Neville I was getting, and rushed down to the common room. I didn't want him getting suspicious, especially now that I knew how observant the boy actually was.