Snape let him go five minutes before curfew. Harry ground his teeth and said nothing, even though Snape's smirk told him that the man knew that it took far more than five minutes to get to the Gryffindor tower from the Dungeons. He forced himself to say goodnight in a meek voice and was rewarded with a glare.

Harry ran back to the tower, praying he wouldn't be discovered by the nasty Mr. Filch or his equally nasty cat. A run in with him during the first week had been enough for him and Ron to decide he was a right git and not someone one wanted to meet very often.
 
Harry was in his bed a few minutes after curfew, panting hard and sweating. His hands smelled of strong soap
 
When Harry woke up the next morning he felt sore and weary and generally as he usually did at the Dursley's. He lay in his bed with his eyes closed for a moment and tried to remember the day before. What could he have done to upset Dudley or his uncle so? He shifted and did not feel springs poking into his bad, just a soft mattress. Come to think of it, it was too dark in here to be in Dudley's second bedroom and too light to be his cupboard. And it didn't smell right either. It smelled lived-in. And sweaty. Not like the immaculately clean Privet Drive number 4.

Harry opened his eyes and looked at the deep-red curtains around his bed and realized he was at Hogwarts. Yesterday came back to him in roar, both his meeting with Dudley at the lake and his detention with Snape. That's why he was in pain. And tired. Harry twisted to look at the little clock on his nightstand and saw it was almost seven. Time to get up, in other words.
 
He got up, grabbed his clothes, shook Ron awake and was off to the shower before the other boy had gotten out of bed.
 
They walked in silence to breakfast, Harry because he was dreading seeing Dudley and Professor Snape and Ron because... Well, he simply not a morning person.
 
The Great Hall was still fairly empty (Harry liked to eat with too much people around) and they could choose almost any seat they wanted at the Gryffindor table. Harry started to butter a piece of toast and watched as Ron loaded his plate with bacon and eggs. They were eating in companionable silence when Hermione Granger came up to them, almost buckling under the weight of her book bag.
 
"Can I sit here? Good, thank you!" she said and put the bag down with a thump. "I was wondering if you needed help with your homework, Harry, I mean I noticed you had detention until late last night and even though I'm sure you deserved it (tripping a professor, honestly!) I would be glad to help you. I finished it three days ago anyway and I need the revision because..."

"Would you just SHUT up!" Ron stopped chewing long enough to yell at Hermione. She went quiet, mouth agape and eyes wide. Harry looked at his plate. He was glad Hermione had offered to help but Ron was his closest friend here...

Hermione's eyes met his for a brief moment, and then Harry looked away. Hermione's lower lip wobbled and she grabbed her heavy bag and ran out the door.

Ron watched her leave then shrugged.

"Just as well," he mumbled, ears a little red.

Harry said nothing but his ears were redder than Ron's.

He forced himself to take a few bites of his toast but the bread was dry and tasteless. He and Ron did not speak more during breakfast but instead finished as quickly as they could and hurried to exit the Great Hall.

They walked to their first class in silence. When they reached Professor Binns' classroom they slid into seats in the back and took out pen and paper.

"Do you know what he's gonna talk about today?" Harry asked.

"No. Goblin wars, I guess. Isn't that what he usually goes on about?" Ron said, with a feeble attempt at a joke. Harry chuckled and Ron smiled and they were good again.

They only had Potions with the Slytherins and they did not have Potions that day, so Harry was saved from seeing both Dudley and Snape. He wasn't sure how he should act towards either of them. He fought his way through classes, feeling more and more tired as the day went on. His bruises were aching and his muscles were sore. Professor McGonagall gave him a scolding for not having an essay to turn in and Professor Flitwick ordered him to practice his levitation charm and prove he could perform it satisfactory the next lesson. And to top it off, Binns assigned a dreadfully long essay about Goblin clans in the 15th century. All and all, Harry decided that this had been a disgusting day and all he wanted was to curl up in chair in front of the fire in Gryffindor tower with a plate of treacle tart.

That did not happen.

He went to dinner with Ron, talked with Neville and picked at his food. He walked with them to their dorms, pulled out his wand and started practicing. Then he wrote Binns' essay, constantly mixing up the Silverclaw clan with the Brassnoses and the Goldfist clan with the Bronzetoes. He read a chapter about plants with healing properties in his Potions book and then he was so tired his eyes could barely stay open.

Harry crawled into bed and was asleep almost instantly.

------

He woke suddenly, heart pounding. He felt cold and sticky and he was shivering. He had had the dream again. The one with the man he now knew was Voldemort. His scar was on fire and he remembered seeing Snape's face in the dream, only he couldn't recall why or where. His ears echoed with Voldemort's high, cruel laugh and Harry wrapped his arms around himself to stop the shaking. He groped for his glass of water and drained it in one gulp.

Harry sat up, and took his wand.

"Lumos," he whispered. He laid it on his nightstand and laid on his side, staring at the light. The darkness that had been so comforting to him when he first came to Hogwarts now seemed chilly and frightening.

He did not go back to sleep for a long time.