His Secret

Back to Hogwarts

Harry sat, staring into his hands, he didn't know what to do with himself any more. Most of all he wanted everything to go back to normal. With a sigh he threw himself backwards on his bed, rubbing his temples in an attempt to soothe his pounding head.

Words from his talk with Jason were swirling around his mind, that wasn't what was bothering him though. What was bothering him was the fact he had shouted at Ron and Hermione, he had even tried to attack Ron. Surely he wasn't normally that violent? Being violent was something you would know about, wasn't it? He mused silently. But, maybe it wasn't. Maybe everyone just saw that blaze of red and became oblivious to the world as he had. Maybe violence wasn't something to be frowned upon, but something that people should be helped with. That would explain a lot.

Harry peered blearily at his bare feet. He felt so confused that he just wanted to crawl into bed and forget the world. However, he had been told that forgetting the world was not a good way to go as the last person who had tried it had actually obliviated herself and was now a permanent resident at St Mungos. Harry had already decided that he was getting out of here as soon as possible so he had satisfied himself by deliberating over the ways of the world. So far he had decided that Snape's hair was greasy because he was like the Wicked Witch of the West from the Wizard of Oz – a play which had been performed in his Primary School, much to the Durseys displeasure – and he was so evil that the water would melt him. Also he had decided that Dumbledore's preference of lemon drops was due to their delightful - as Dumbledore would say, Harry of course completely disagreed – sourness. But the one question that Harry was finding the most difficult to answer was, why did it always have to be him? He tried going over his mandatory explanations for everything, he was a freak, burden and everything was his fault, but when he asked himself why did it have to be him who was the unnatural freak he couldn't bring himself to answer like that.

Having only made his headache worse by these complex thoughts, Harry began to wonder where the other Weasleys were. He hoped he hadn't driven them away. Pushing that thought quickly out of his mind, Harry went back to wondering if his Uncle had actually meant to hurt him, usually he had a justified reason. Usually. Although when he didn't he just went with the back up of Harry being an ungrateful freak.

“Harry?” A soft voice brought Harry out of his drugged-like state.

“Ginny?” He asked in surprise.

“Harry, they said we can go back to Hogwarts. Isn't that good?” Ginny smiled as the boy who lay on the bed beamed.

“That's great!” He exclaimed with excitement.

************

Harry sighed heavily, getting quickly dressed as he look around the empty room. The rest of the dorm had decided to leave him to sleep for a while - not something he was thankful for. Vernon lurked in his dreams, always over his shoulder, continually watching him.

His nightmares had become almost unbearable to the point that he never slept until the early hours of the morning where his exhaustion took over and he was forced into a fitful slumber.

Pulling on his branded robes, Harry traipsed slowly out of the dorm, his shoulders slouched. It had been a week since he left St. Mungos and he was only feel slightly better for it. Work was becoming easier with the help of his tutor, Laura.

But other than that his life was continuing in the same monotonous fashion.

"Watch where you're going Potter!" Harry ducked his head as Draco Malfoy pushed past him, but thrown off by the force of the shove Harry tripped to the floor, a loud sound of tearing material was heard before Harry felt the c

old air on his bare back.

Bare back. Malfoy would see. He would know.

Harry heard a sound of horror from Malfoy before he saw the blonde boy flee. He couldn't blame him, how else could you react to such a monster?

Quickly before anyone else came to the scene Harry ran to the common room, the shock of Malfoy seeing passing as he pressed himself to the wall, sobs being ripped from his throat.

Malfoy had seen him. Malfoy knew.