Careful he pushed the cold blade against his snow white skin and took a deep breath before pushing the knife into his skin. As soon as he felt the knife cut into his skin and a small stream of blood escape his veins, he was able to relax. The pain felt so good. The pain made his sorrow and frustrations disappeare for a while. It numbed his mind.
He had used this method to make himself feel better for about a month and half, but now the more he used the method, the faster the feeling disappeared and the more pain he needed to go numb.

He cleaned the knife with a simple spell and put it in his bag and then used the same spell on his arm when it had stop bleeding.
Harry looked into the mirror. His normally sparkling emerald eyes were dull and his face covered with dark bruises. Harry lifted his wand and cast a very strong glamour charm over himself, double checking his appearance before he left the bathroom.

He was happy that he was at Hogwarts so his uncle couldn't hurt him anymore but here he had a lot more chance that his habit of self mutilation would be discovered. It was hard for him to imagine what he would do if he wasn't able to cut the emotional pain away.
The thought of sitting in a dark corner, hiding from the world and crying his eyes out, made him shiver. He wouldn't let his uncle break him. He was too strong to break. After all he was the one who should kill Voldemort and a weak boy couldn't kill the most powerful dark wizard of the age.
If he couldn't destroy Voldemort, he was weak and useless. A waste of space. A freak. He would do anything he could to kill Voldemort or else he would die trying. It's not that anyone was going to miss him anyway. His family was dead, his friends were too busy with each other, and Dumbledore just used him as a pawn in his war.
Harry banned the bitter thoughts from his head while he made his way to his first lesson of the year: potions. He didn't look forward to it, but doing anything was better than doing nothing because then all the bitter thoughts and memories haunted him.

"There you are!" greeted Hermoine when he arrived in the dungeons. The classroom was still locked and Snape wasn't there yet.

"Why weren't you at breakfast?"

"Lost track of time," lied Harry.

Ron gave him a questioning look, indicating that he didn't believe Harry. "What were you doing then?"

Luckily Harry didn't have to answer that question due to the arrival of the Slytherins, lead by Malfoy.
"Potter," he said with loathing. "You're still not expelled?"

The Slytherins laughed at the comment;Harry just ignored the blond boy. If he reacted, he would surely end up in trouble. If there was one thing he learned this summer was never react and always obey.

"Since you weren't at the feast yesterday nor at breakfast this morning, I figured you weren't at school. Shame that you are."
Again the laughing of the Slytherins filled the cold dungeon.

"So, where were you then? Is the great hall not good enough for you, Potter?"

Harry felt anger rising, but he had learned to control that. Anger would only get him in trouble. He tried to pretend that Malfoy wasn't there.

"It's not polite to turn your back to me if I'm talking to you, Potter. Did your mother never teach you manners? Oh right... you never knew her!"
The Slytherins laughed loudly, but Harry still tried to ignore them, although it was very hard. But he wouldn't give anyone the opportunity to punish him.
Ron shot an angry glare to Malfoy, which made him laugh even louder.

                                                                                                                    

As Snape walked towards his classroom he heard laughter. He paused behind a corner and listened. Maybe he could give someone a detention, and get the year off to a good start.
"Since you weren't at the feast yesterday nor at breakfast this morning, I figured you weren't at school. Shame that you are." He heard Malfoy say.
Snape was sure that the Potter brat would say something back or even lose his temper and start a fight with his godson, but nothing happened.

“So, where were you then?” Snape overheard. “Is the great hall not good enough for you, Potter? It's not polite to turn your back to me if I'm talking to you, Potter. Did your mother never teach you manners? Oh right... you never knew her!"
Snape waited a few seconds, but the only thing that he could hear was the laughter of his house.

Strange, he thought while he turned the corner, approaching the group of Slytherins and Gryffindors. Potter usually loses his temper quickly, especially if someone insults his friends or family...

His eyes scanned the group and he saw that Gryffindor’s Golden Boy had turned his back to the Slytherins and was staring at the wall in front of him, with a blank expression on his face.
Snape decided that the brat had finally learned to control his temper.

"What's so funny?" sneered Snape, pretending that he hadn't heard the conversation. No one answered; the Slytherins just chuckled.
He opened the door to his classroom and the students entered it. Snape closed the door and stalked towards the blackboard.

"Today," he started, as soon as all the students had taken place. "We are going to make a Dreamless Sleep potion."
He saw that Potter's attention shifted from the wall towards him. His dark eyes met the boy’s green, sparkling eyes.
"If you don't do it right," Snape continued, "You will probably make a potion which makes you dream your worst nightmares."
He let his words sink in for a moment, scanning the class, searching for a victim from whom he could deduct points.
"You have one hour," he continued "to make it and then, after a week and half simmering you will drink your own potion and record your experience."
Snape waved his wand at the blackboard and instructions appeared. It was a fairly simple potion but it was very important the steps were performed at a precise time and with the exact quantity.

Harry had a good feeling about his potion. It looked very much like the potion Hermione had brewed. Carefully, he poured the thick purple liquid into a vial, labeled it with his name and date, and put it on Snape’s dark wooden desk. Snape's eyes followed his every move as if he were looking for something he could criticize him for.

The bell rang which signalling the end of the class. Harry gathered his belongings, threw them in his bag, and left the classroom as fast as he could. He didn't even bother to wait for his friends. The faster he could leave the cold dungeon and the Slytherins behind, the better.

Over the summer he had decided that didn't want to be so close to Ron and Hermione anymore. Not because he didn't like them, but he was afraid that something would happen to them if they stayed close. He was terrified that everyone who he loved would die or that Voldemort could use them to blackmail him. He knew that he would miss their company greatly, but they wouldn't miss him too much. They had each other now.

Harry suspected that they avoided snogging in front of him, but he knew they were a couple. His hopes that he wouldn't be as lonely as he was at the Privet Drive had already vanished. The scars of the self inflicted wounds on his arm were itching and he suddenly felt the urge to take his knife again and press the cold blade against his pale skin. But he had no time for that. He needed to go to Divination and it was a long walk from the dungeons.

He was the first one to arrive at the staircase which lead to the classroom in the north tower. What would Professor Trelawney predict?, Harry wondered. He was used to being the subject to her most dramatic predictions and in his homework he exploited her love for dramatic events. She always seemed to be most happy when he turned in his homework bursting with most horrible accidents and bad luck.

The bell rang again and Harry started climbing the spiral staircase. He was the first one to reach the hot room. He sat down on his usual seat and waited for the class to start.
Like usual, Divination was boring. Even Trelawney's terrible predictions couldn't bother him.

"O dear boy," she had said halfway during class in her most dramatic voice. "I see a great danger in the near future!"
Ron had laughed and even Harry was able to smile. Of course there was a great danger in his future, he had to face Voldemort after all.
Trelawney had pointed to complicated maps of stars and planets to explain her theory.

"Look! When the sun, moon, and earth are on one line, and the earth knows darkness even by day, you will fall victim to calamity! Venus indicates that it may be lethal!"
Harry knew better then to take the prediction seriously. If everything she said came true, he would have died several times already.
Divination had been good for two things: homework and a good mood.

"Just the first day and she gave us homework already!" Ron complained while they made their way to the Great Hall for lunch. "Maybe you should tell her that you are too busy preparing for the solar eclipse and that you have no time for homework."

Harry smiled again. "Maybe I should."

Most of the students were already in the Great Hall when they arrived and the tables were pretty fully. Hermione was kind enough to save them a seat.
"How was Divination?" she asked when Harry and Ron had sat down across her.

"Great," Ron answered sarcasticly. "The most exciting part of the class was when she foretold that Harry would get seriously, if not fatally, wounded during the solar eclipse."

"The solar eclipse is in two weeks, if I'm not mistaken," Hermione said. She seemed to be a bit surprised.

"Is it? Well it's not like anything is going to happen," began Harry. "If every prediction of hers had come true, I would have died several times already."

Ron laughed and Hermione looked at him disgustedly. "You really should swallow your food before you laugh, Ronald."

"Who is the new defense teacher?" asked Harry suddenly. Since he hadn’t been at the feast yesterday, he had missed the announcement.

"Lupin." Hermione pointed at him.

Harry looked at the table where all the teachers sat. There, next to McGonagall, sat the werewolf who had previously taught at Hogwarts during Harry third year.
Lupin's eyes met Harry's and Harry suddenly felt his good mood melt away, like snow in front of the sun. A smile appeared on the werewolf’s face. His late godfather’s best friend looked well, although Harry thought that he saw a shadow in the older man’s eyes.
Harry turned his gaze away from the man, knowing that he was responsible for the shadow in Lupin’s eyes. Because of Harry, Lupin's good friend was dead. For the first time Harry realized that he wasn't the only one who was suffering from the loss of Sirius.

How could he have been so selfish? Because he thought the visions were real, because he wasn't strong enough to keep his mind closed, Sirius died. Because of him Lupin lost a dear friend.
Harry swallowed, trying to suppress the rising guild and sorrow, but failed. The little food that lay on his plate, suddenly looked revolting. There was only one way to rid himself of these tormenting emotions: his knife.
Without hesitation, he stood up, excused himself to Hermione and Ron with a lie about a forgotten DADA text, and left to find a peaceful place to cut away the terrible feelings that were overwhelming him.
He didn't have to think long to come up with a quiet place where no one could catch him with his knife: the Room of Requirement.

The Room had taken the form of a bathroom, minus the toilet. The walls and floors were paved with cold, white tiles. There was a large mirror in a golden frame above the sink. The Room was cold but in way comforting; Harry liked the coldness of the room. It made him relax. For a moment he stared at himself in the mirror. His emerald eyes were sparkling and his skin looked healthy, but Harry knew that it was just a mask. Underneath the mask his eyes were dead.
Carefully he took the knife from the bottom of his bag. His caressed the knife as though it was the most precious object he possessed. Perhaps it was because without it, he wouldn't be able to function. Without it there was no way to get rid of his emotions and they would just pile up inside of him and cause depression.
He took the knife in his left hand and pressed the cold blade just underneath his right shoulder. For a moment he hesitated. This was the first time he was going to cut so soon after a prior session.
Is my addiction getting worse? He wondered. Just this once. It's not that I can't keep in under control. Just this once.
He pressed harder on the knife and it sliced into his skin. The cut and the stream of blood disappeared quickly underneath his Glamour Charm but still he could feel his emotions flood away. It felt good.
He sat down on the cold tiles starting at the wall, enjoying the numbness and hoping it would last for the rest of the day.

Harry was restless. Snape had taken away his knife two days ago and he hadn't cut since then. Maybe he was addicted after all. He thought that he wouldn't miss the pain and blood so much, but he did. Transfiguring a random object into a knife had failed miserably. He managed to make it look like a knife, but it never was sharp enough. Why were there so few sharp objects in the castle? he wondered while walking towards the Great Hall. He had just spent a few hours at the edge of the Black Lake, doing homework and thinking about a future which he most likely didn't have.

"Potter!"

Harry looked up and saw that Malfoy was walking towards him with a big smirk on his pale face. He was all alone, pretty unusual seeing that Malfoy always had at least one or two other Slytherins around him, Harry actually couldn't really recall seeingMalfoy without his bodyguards.

"What?" Harry answered, he couldn't hide that he was annoyed by Malfoy’s approach; not only was it Malfoy but he hungry and wanted to make it to the Great hall for dinner. He was already running late and lately he felt like Hermione and Ron were almost timing his presence.

"What are you doing here?" asked the blond boy when he was just a few feet from Harry away.

"I could ask you the same," mumbled Harry. Without waiting for a response he continued on his way towards the castle.

"Where are you going?" Malfoy grabbed Harry's arm firmly, which made him jump. "So scared."

Harry gave Malfoy an angry glare, but kept his mouth shut. His uncle taught him that if he remained silent, the chance of getting punished was a bit smaller. But even his silence couldn't keep his uncle from beating him.

"I want to talk about what you have done to my father." Malfoy pushed Harry against a nearby tree.

Again Harry chose to remain silent.
"Lost your tongue, Potter?" sneered Malfoy. "Because of you my father is in Azkaban and when he gets out the Dark Lord will punish him severely."

"He deserves it."

"It was your fault that the mission failed so why does my father have to be punished?"
Malfoy looked at Harry. His grey eyes were full of anger.
"Lucky for me my father was not the only victim", continued Malfoy. "I heard your friends got wounded and it seems that you filthy godfather got himself killed."

Harry needed all his willpower to control himself so he wouldn't start beating Malfoy.
A nasty smile appeared on the Slytherins face. "But it's not the same as avenging my father myself, since it’s you that is responsiblefor the death of your godfather. If I think about it, you were the reason your parents died and Cedric..."

He was right. He knew it all along. Because of him everyone close to him died. It was only a matter of time before the next person died. He wanted to cut away the guilt, the grief, and the pressure the wizarding world had put upon him.

Suddenly, Malfoy let him go.
"I will have my revenge one day," promised the blond boy. "You will pay for what you did to my father." He left Harry behind with his thoughts and walked back to the castle.

Harry wasn't afraid of what Malfoy might do to him. It would never be as bad as what his uncle did to him. He knew that it was not entirely his fault that Malfoy's father got caught. It was just a matter of time before the ministry discovered that he was a death eater. But he knew it was his fault that his friends had almost died and it was his fault that Sirius had died.
He had lost his appetite and the only thing he wanted right now was his knife. He wanted to cut the guilt, the pain, and the sorrow away. He wanted to feel numb again. He really needed to cut, it had been too long since he had felt numb.

Perhaps I should just steal the knife back.
"Accio invisiblity cloak!" he shouted. He waited a brief moment and then he saw a dark object floating towards him. It was his invisiblity cloak. He plucked it out of the air once it was close enough. His fingers ran softly over the fabric. The cloak was one of his most precious possessions. It was the only thing he had left of his parents except the picture Hagrid gave him.

He lifted his wand again and summoned the Marauder's Map.
"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good," he said as soon the map was in his hands.

He pulled on the cloak and walked towards the castle. He saw that almost everyone was in the Great Hall dining. The dungeons were empty so it was safe to go and search for the knife. Harry wondered where Snape would have hidden it. Hopefully not in his personal quarters because there was no way he would be able to get in there.
Harry entered the castle, crossed the entrance hall and opened the door towards Hogwart's dungeons. As soon as Harry opened the door, he could feel the colder air seeping out of the dungeons. Slowly, he descended the stairs. He was glad that he wasn't a Slytherin because they lived in the cold, damp dungeons.

Harry stopped in front of a dark wooden door not far from the Potions class. Before magically unlocking the door, he checked the map. When he couldn't spot any student or professor in the neighborhood, he drew his wand, directed it at the door and whispered: "Alohomora."

Nothing happened. Harry cursed silently and tried again without any result.
How could he have been so stupid? Harry wondered. Of course Snape's office door would be Alohomora proof.

"Accio Sirius' knife!" After a few seconds he heard the sound of iron clashing into wood.
The knife is in there... Now I just have to get it out.

He needed a way into the office because Snape would know he tried to steal it because the knife was probably stuck in the door. Why was he so stupid? He could have foreseen that this would happen. Snape would be mad when he saw the knife in the door and he would be punished.
Harry tried to remain calm but when he heard footsteps coming towards him, he started to panic.

They can't see me.

"Tell me Draco."

Harry knew that voice to well. It was the voice of the potions professor. Snape would kill him if he found out.

"Well," the other voice was Malfoy. "I kind of threatened him."

"Who?"

Snape and Malfoy came from behind the corner. Harry pressed himself against the wall, hoping they wouldn't touch him. Hoping Snape wouldn't open the door to his office and see the knife.

"Potter," spat Malfoy.

Snape his black eyes went towards his office door for a moment but he and Draco kept walking, missing Harry by an inch.

"Why?"

"Because of what he did to my father."
Harry relaxed a bit. Instead of leaving the dungeon, he followed Malfoy and Snape.

____________________________________________________

"And what did he do to your father?" Snape asked, not quite understanding what his godson was talking about. Lucius was in prison, so how could the brat do something to him. He opened the door of the potions classroom and walked in.

"Because of Potter," spat Malfoy. "my father is in Azkaban."

Snape could have expected that Draco would blame the boy for his father incompetence. Not that Gryffindor’s Golden Boy was innocent.

"Have your parents never taught you to close doors?" asked Snape when Draco seated himself without bothering to close the door.
The blond boy sighed, rose and shut the door.

"For what do you need the ingredients?"

Draco ignored his question and continued talking about the previous topic. "Because of bloody Potter my father is in prison and if he ever gets free the Dark Lord would punish him because he failed. So when I saw Potter on his own on the school grounds earlier, I decided to say exactly what I thought of him."

Snape shifted his attention from the ingredient cupboard to his godson, curious what the boy had said to his least favourite pupil. Or was Longbottom his least favorite? Potter didn't blow up cauldrons and wasn't a hazard to other students while working in the dungeons.

"I said to him that he was lucky that my father wasn't the only victim of what happened at the Ministry and I told him that it was his fault Cedric and that filthy dog died."

The Potions Master looked at Draco, trying to read his emotions. It seemed that the boy was very pleased with what he had said to the brat.

"And," continued Draco. "I said I would have revenge some day."

"Aah," was the only thing Snape could say. He didn't know that his godson was that blunt.

"What do you think?"

For a moment Snape didn't know what to say. He didn't agree completely with his godson but he had a reputation to keep.
"I don't think all the blame for what your father failed to should be put upon Potter. If your father was competent enough, he could have managed to capture a few teens." Malfoy shot him an angry glare, but Snape ignored it. "But if Potter wasn't so stupid to believe that his godfather was actually being tortured by the Dark Lord, none of this would ever have happened. If he wasn't so kind as to share his victory with the Diggory boy, no one would have died."

"Shame," said Draco. "If Potter had died -"

"You're so full of love, dear godson," said Snape sarcasticly, before Draco could end his sentence.

"Wouldn't you be happy when he is gone?"

"Of course -"
The door flew open.
"You didn't close the damn door well enough."
Again, Draco rose and shut the door for the second time.

"I was saying," continued Snape. "Of course I want the boy gone, but not dead. I don't wish death upon anyone. Shame Dumbledore is so fond of him, or else I could have expelled him years ago."

__________________________________________________________

Harry ran away from the dungeons, not caring that in his haste the Invisiblity Cloak revealed his feet. He didn't even bother to look at the Marauders Map, which he had unconsciously clenched in his fist. The only thing he wanted now was to get as far away from the dungeons as possible. He wanted to feel physical pain; hewanted to make sure that he wasn't having a nightmare. He pushed the door to the deserted entrance hall open and made his way to the stairs. The safest plays he could think of was the Room of Requirement. There he could be at peace and no one would disturb him. He and his beloved knife...Suddenly, he remembered that he failed to retrieve the knife. Now he didn't care too much if Snape would find the knife stuck in the door. He would just find something else to cut himself with, something that would cause him pain.

When he reached the Room he walked three times past the wall where the door was supposed to be and thought about a safe haven. The dark wooden door appeared. Slowly Harry pushed open the door and entered. The Room was different then the cold, clean bathroom it had been the previous times. Now it was a place where he wanted to stay forever. In the middle of the big room stood a king size bed in front of a burning fireplace and in a corner stood a tall, dark wooden bookcase. The walls were dark red and the floor a cream carpet.Harry made his way toward another door and pushed it open. Behind it was the bathroom Harry had used a few times but now included a shower as well. He stepped in front of the mirror, realizing he still had his cloak on. Slowly he pulled it off, hung it over a peg and looked at himself in the mirror.

Harry thought very hard about a knife. Suddenly a dagger appeared on the sink. The blade shone silver and the ebony handle scarlet ruins that Harry did not recognise. Harry let go of the map, took the dagger and went back to the bed. For a few minutes he just stared at the beautiful dagger, lost in his thoughts.

He wasn't that surprised that Malfoy wanted him dead, but that Snape wanted it as well was more than he guessed. He knew the Potions Master hated him, but that much? Did other people want him dead as well, beside Voldemort and his followers? If he died would there be anyone who would kneel down beside his grave and cry for him? Someone who would bring him flowers and talk to him? Hermione? Ron? No, they were too busy with each other. He was sure that no one even noticed that he wasn't at dinner. Any of the other Professor? No, they would just say some kind words and continue with their lives. They had many students to care for and he wasn't that special. Dumbledore? No. He destroyed his office and acted like a child. The headmaster had kept things from him for a reason. No, Dumbledore wouldn't grieve for him either. He was just a pawn in this war, this game. No one would miss him.

What if he just ended his life now? It would be hours before someone even noticed that he was gone and it would take days or even weeks before someone thought to look in the Room of Requirement. He just had to cut an artery and slowly he would bleed to death. Harry swallowed. That seemed to be a very painful death, perhaps he should find a faster way like jumping of the astronomy tower. He would have the thrill of the fall. It would feel just like flying until he collided with the ground but by then he would be dead. But there was a small chance that he would survive it but be paralysed. Maybe he just had to use the killing curse on himself. Could he do that? Was that possible?

Harry shook his head, hoping that would help chase the morbid thoughts away. Deep down he knew he wasn't brave enough to end his own life and if he could, he didn't want to. Life might be bad, but it wasn't that bad. Besides, he didn't want to give his uncle what he wanted. Stepping through the back door out of life wasn't the solution to his problems. The only thing that would happen is that someone else would have to take care of Voldemort. Did he want to shove his destiny, his burden onto the shoulders of another? Just because he was tired of his life? He wouldn't.

Harry pointed his wand at himself and said: "Finite Incantatem."
The spell that hid his horrible looking bruises and scars from the world, was lifted. Harry pulled up the sleeve of his right arm and took the dagger in his left hand. He placed the dagger just beneath his elbow at the bottom of his arm. Slowly he dragged it vertically towards his wrist. The dagger ripped through his skin and cut deeper than Harry had intended. A thick stream of blood ran out of the long gash. For a moment Harry panicked. This was the first time had had cut so deep or seen so much blood pouring from a self-inflicted wound. But the feeling of numbness eased his panic and he started to relax, watching the blood run over his arm and drip mesmerizingly onto the bed.

After a few moments he started to worry. The blood continued to flow. If it continued, he would kill himself after all. With haste he jumped to his feet and entered the bathroom. He pulled open the cabinet beneath the sink. A wave of relief washed over him when he found a box that held bandages. He tried to apply a bandage over the cut which proved to be more difficult than he had thought it would be.

As a last resort he went back to the bed, picked up his wand and pointed it at the wound. With a flick of his wand he cleaned the wound, but the blood kept coming. Now he pointed the wand at the bandage. Hoping that it would work, he moved the wand in the way he wanted the bandage to move around his arm. The bandage followed the movements of his wand and wrapped around his arm, covering the wound. It looked clumsy, but the bandage would, hopefully, stay in place.
The blood seeped through the bandage quickly. Harry cast a cleaning spell and the bandage turned from scarlet to its original white.

"Why don't I know any healing spells?" Harry muttered. "Perhaps..."
Harry focused his thoughts on a potion which would stop the bleeding and cure the wound. Like he had hoped, a crystal vial appeared on the nightstand. Harry grabbed it, pulled the stopper off the vial and sniffed the purple liquid. He recognised the potion: Madame Promfey had used it on him to cleanse his wounds after the first task of the Triwizard Tournament.

Just to be sure, Harry read the label:

A week and half had passed since the first Potions lesson. Tonight they would test their Dreamless Sleep potion. The Gryffindors wondered as they made their way towards the dungeon, how Professor Snape would know if the potion actually had the desired effect.

"He is probably going to sneak up to the Gryffindor Tower while we are all a sleep," suggested Dean.

"But he can't," Hermione said and the tone of her voice indicated that there was no room for argument. "He doesn't have the password."

"He could get it from McGonagall."

Neville was pale and looked very nervous. The thought of Snape watching him sleep didn't appeal to him at all. Harry agreed with him, but doubted that Snape would waste his time watching them sleep.

When they entered the Potion classroom, Snape was already waiting. He watched impatiently as the Gryffindors took their places; the door shut as the last Gryffindor took his seat.

"Like I said you are testing you own Dreamless Sleep potion. You will write an essay about your experience with the potion and if you haven't achieved the desired effect, you will research what you did incorrectly," The Potions Professor paused a moment to let his words sink in, "Of course I will know if your potion had the desired effect. A house elf will watch over you tonight. Now take you potion and be gone."

Harry stood up and walked towards Snape's desk, looking for the vial with his name on it. When he found it, he picked it up and left the classroom. A moment later Ron, Neville and Hermione joined him.

"Mine looks like that book described," Hermione said while showing her vial. The contents of it look exactly like Harry's and Ron's potion. Neville's potion however, had a dark blue colour instead of a deep purple one.

"Then mine failed," Neville said a bit disappointed.

The next morning Harry woke up well rested. He hadn’t had any nightmares and as far as he could remember, he hadn’t had any dreams at all. It had been a very long time since he was able to sleep without having nightmares. He was able to make this potion. Perhaps if he could brew enough of the potion he would be able to sleep well for a few nights. The ingredients were stocked in the student’s cupboard, so he could get them without having to steal them. He just need a place where he could put secretly brew.

The Room of Requirement! A smile spread appeared on Harry's face. Finally, he had found another way to deal with the nightmares and horrible memories. He didn't need his blade any more, he just needed the harmless potion. Although it was harmless, he had better make sure no one found out since he didn't want to explain why he needed the potion to his friends or teachers.

In a good mood, Harry dressed and went to the Great Hall for breakfast.
The subject of conversation between the sixth year students that morning was the outcome of the Dreamless Sleep potion. More than half the sixth years had succeeded in brewing thepotion correctly.

"I had terrible nightmares," Neville had dark bags underneath his eyes and he was pale.

"You look terrible," Ron admitted without shifting his eyes from his plate. All the other Gryffindors looked well rested.

"What class do we have first?"

"Defence," Hermione Replied. "Honesty Neville, don't you know the schedule by heart?"

Neville ignored her question.

"I'm sure Professor Lupin will understand it when you can't concentrate."
"You think, Harry?"

Harry nodded.

"Come one guys, we should go, we don't want to be late," Hermione said when students started to leave the Great Hall.
They all stood, picked up their bags and went towards the Defence against the Dark Arts classroom.

"What do you think we'll do this time?" Ron asked around the sandwich he was still eating.

"Don't talk with food in your mouth, it's disgusting."

" Lupin said he would test us on how we are doing with non-verbal spells," Harry explained. He was sure that he would pass the test and Hermione and Ron would probably pass as well since he had helped them.

Neville sighed. "I'm going to fail."Harry, Ron and Hermione ignored Neville's statement because they knew he was right.When they entered the class, they discovered that there were no desks or chairs. Even Lupins desk had disappeared.

"Can you close the door please?" Lupin asked once they had entered.
Harry, who stood closest to the door, turned around and shut it.
"Today I will test how far you have progressed with non-verbal spells. To pass this test you must cast a simple spell without speech. A disarming spell, like Expelliarmus, or perhaps a charm, will do." The werewolf let his gaze shift over the class. "If you do not pass the test, I will give you extra work and if needed, extra classes. Are there any questions?"

No one spoke.

"Good. If everyone could stand over there," he pointed at the wall where Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville stood. When everyone had moved, Lupin continued. "Who wants to go first?"

Harry stepped forward. "I will go first."

Lupin nodded and invited Harry to come over to the middle of the classroom. "Try to cast a spell on me, but please, don't knock me into the infirmary." A small smile appeared on Lupin’s face.
Harry nodded, grabbed his wand firmly and pointed it on Lupin. For a brief moment Harry thought about the disarming spell and a jet of scarlet light left his wand and made Lupin’s wand fly out of his hand.

"Well done," Lupin said while taking his wand back. "You obviously passed."
Harry grinned and went back to his place beside Hermione and Ron.

"Well done!" Hermione whispered, a bit excited. "I hope I pass as well."

And pass she did. Everyone but Parvati and Neville were able to successfully complete the test.

"We still have some time left," Lupin announced. "But I am not starting with more advanced spells until everyone," his eyes shifted to Neville and Parvati "is able to cast simple spells without using words."

"Let us enjoy the weather!" suggested Dean.

"Yeah!"

"That would be fun!"

"We could work on our homework,"

"Let us go, please!"

Lupin smiled at the class. "Yes, go and have some fun but don't neglect your homework and keep on practising. It will make it easier to use more difficult spells non-verbal. Neville, Paravati, can you two stay behind, please?"
The class cheered and left the room, happy that they had gotten extra free time.

_____________________________________________________

The potion master was surprised with the report that the Houselves had given him. More than half of the sixth year students had managed to make a flawless Dreamless Sleep potion. He was even more surprised that only two Gryffindors had made a mistake. Professor Snape pulled the first essay in front of him and read it carefully. It was from a Hufflepuff student who failed to add the ingredients in the proper order. To Snape's horror the foolish girl had described her nightmares in detail. Halfway through the essay Snape stopped reading, marked it and threw it on a corner of his desk.

After forty minutes of correcting and inventing creative insults, he set his quill down. He stood up and went over to the student’s ingredients cupboard. After he had checked if it needed restocking, he could go to his private quarters and enjoy a free moment for himself.

He opened the cupboard and started to count the ingredients. When he was finished, he realised that someone had taken enough ingredients to make Dreamless Sleep potion for half a year. It must be someone of the sixth year, thought the potion master. Maybe I should inform Dumbledore.

He left the classroom, locked it and went to his private chambers. His private chambers could be entered by giving the right password to the portrait at the end of one of the dungeon corridors. Behind the portrait was a staircase that led to a dark wooden door. Snape opened the door and entered his living room. It had several high windows that looked out over the black lake but were charmed to look like the castle walls from the outside. The room wasn't painted in green and silver but instead covered by wooden panels. The furniture was made of dark wood and the seating of black leather. In the impressive fireplace burned a magical fire: it only could be extinguished by the professors order.

Professor Snape took Floo powder from a marble jar that stood on the mantelpiece, walked into the fire and threw what he had took from the jar into the fire while saying "Dumbledore's office!"
A moment later the potion master stepped out the fireplace in the office of the headmaster.

"Severus, my boy, to what do I owe this visit?" The headmaster asked as he closed the book he was reading.
Severus stepped out of the fireplace and sat down opposite of the headmaster.

"I am a bit concerned," Snape started. "Someone has taken ingredients enough to brew Dreamless Sleep for about a half year."

Dumbledore seemed to be lost in his thoughts for a several minutes.

"Sir?"

"That's indeed concerning," The headmaster admitted. "Who ever took the ingredients, it is someone who has trouble sleeping or someone who wants to sell the potions to other students, but the latter seems unlikely."

"But the potion is highly addictive," Snape said. "And if someone takes too much of it they can end up in a coma."

The twinkle had disappeared from the headmasters eyes. "Is there a student who always looked tired?"

Severus thought about it for a few minutes, trying to remember every student he had seen in his class. "I can't say I have seen anyone who looked very tired, But then again they could have used a glamour charm."

Dumbledore nodded.

"But I expect that the student is a sixth year."

"Why is that, dear boy?"

"Because they just learned how to make the potion."

"We should be extra vigilant," proposed the headmaster. "Searching the dorms won't help. I think this student is smarter than to hide his stock in the dorms."

______________________________________________________

Only a week of the first semester remained. Harry felt better than he had felt in a long time. Every night he took a vial of Dreamless Sleep potion so he could have a nightmare free night and every morning he woke up, full of energy. He had told Ron and Hermione that he took a vial of the purple liquid only if he had a nightmare the previous night, so they didn't know that he took a vial every evening after he closed the curtains around his bed. A part of him felt bad for lying to them, but Harry knew that he needed it. Without it the nightmares would haunt him and he would go back to his previous coping method: the knife.
On a rare occasion he felt the urge to cut again, to see a crimson red river flowing over his pale skin, but so far he was able to resist the urge.

Harry also looked a lot better than in the beginning of the school year. His skin wasn't as pale anymore and he had gained weight. However he didn't remove the glamour charm because his eyes remained a dull green rather than their old sparkling emerald.

“Harry could you stay, please?” Professor Lupin asked at the end of the last Defence against the Dark Arts lesson of the term.

Harry shot a questioning look at his professor, but dropped his bag again and waited until the other students had left the classroom. When everyone had left, Lupin sat down at his desk and Harry joined him.

“Harry,” Professor Lupin started carefully. “Please, let me finish before you interrupt me and yes, I know you won't like what I have to say, but it is necessary.”

Suddenly, Harry started to feel very nervous. Whatever the Professor had to say, it was something serious.

Lupin sighed, “You will have to return to your relative’s during the vacation because You–Know-Who has been attempting to destroy the wards on the house.”

Harry’s mind was set spinning by the unwelcome news. He had to go back to the Dursley’s? Before the summer? He felt sick. He couldn't go back.

“I can't go back!” Harry shouted in anger.

Lupin raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

For a moment Harry didn't know what to say. He couldn't tell him that his uncle abused him. He couldn't admit they treated him worse than a slave.

“My uncle and aunt aren’t expecting me and they’ll probably be on holiday.”

“Don't worry. They already know that you are coming back during the Christmas break.”

“Why do I have to go back?” Harry almost whispered.

“You-Know-Who is trying to destroy the wards on your home and if you are in residence the wards are much more difficult to break.”

“So,” Harry thought about what Lupin said for a brief moment. “If I am at the Dursley’s the wards won't break and if I stay here, the wards will be undone?”
Lupin nodded.
“But he knows I am not there.”

“Indeed, but we believe that he wishes to get to you by capturing your relatives or perhaps he hopes that we won't notice the wards failing and return you there at the end of the school year.”

Harry sighed. He knew that nothing short of revealing his Ucle’s treatment would save him from having to return to that house .

“But why are the wards stronger when I am there?” Harry asked, still not understanding how the wards worked.

“I do not know the details of the specific wards, as the Headmaster does. I am sure if you ask him and he could tell you why and how,” Lupin assured.

Harry sighed again. “Can I go now?”

“Yes, if you need anything or your relatives are rude to you, feel free to contact me,” Lupin said.

“Okay.” Harry left the classroom.
.

He felt sick. Of all the things that Lupin could discuss with him, this was the last subject Harry had expected. He had never been sent back to the Dursely’s during the winter holidays and now, after Vernon treated him so bad, he had to go. He had no clue where he was going, he just walked. It was lunch time but Harry didn't feel like eating, nor did he feel like going to his afternoon classes. He was too worried and too afraid to concentrate. If he just could gather the courage to tell someone...

Harry shook his head as if he could drive away his thoughts telling someone was not an option. Who would help him anyway? He had always dealt with his problems alone and nothing would change that now. Maybe his uncle had changed. Maybe the company for which he worked wasn't going bankrupt any more. Harry swallowed, knowing that it was very unlikely. He would just have to endure it. Two weeks, that wasn’t too long, he could handle it. If he didn't go back, his only family might die at the hands of Voldemort.

Harry looked up and discovered that his feet had led him to the astronomy tower. The sky looked as Harry felt himself: dark and sober. The threat of rain was imminent, but did not detract from the amazing view. Harry gazed out upon the mountains, the Black Lake, and the Forbidden Forest.

________________________________________________________

“I'm sure he’s in the common room,” Ron dismissed, while he sat down in the Great Hall for dinner.

“Whatever Lupin said, it must have been serious.”

Ron sighed, annoyed that his girlfriend was always worrying over Harry. He didn't understand why she thought that something was wrong. Since the beginning of the year Hermione had thought that something was wrong with their friend. Harry was acting different, but Ron was sure that he was still coping with Sirius' death and needed a little . After all that’s what Harry himself had told them.

“I'm sure it's nothing to worry about.” Ron, said for probably the hundrenth time, as he filled his plate with roast and mashed potatoes. “Wouldn't he tell us if something was wrong?”

Hermione shrugged, clearly not convinced. “He won't even talk to us about his summer or about Sirius.”

“Hermione,” Ron said in a low, angry voice. “Can we please drop it?”

Hermione nodded.

“Good.”

After dinnerHermione nearly dragged Ron to the Gryffindor tower, complaining that he was too slow. They found that the common room empty except for Harry who was sitting in front of the fire. He was soaking wet.

“Harry!” shouted Hermione as she rushed towards him.

Harry looked up at her and managed to put a small smile on his face.

Ron walked slowly towards them and sat down in a chair near the window.

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” Harry mumbled, shifting his face towards the fireplace.

“But you’re soaked!”

Harry shrugged.

“Was it something Lupin said?”

Harry looked thoughtful at Hermione as if he was considering what to tell her. “I have to go back to the Dursley’s during the holiday.”

Ron felt his anger rise. Harry was skipping classes and sitting in the rain because he had to go back to his relatives?

“Oh,” said Hermione, clearly surprised by Harry's answer. Ron was sure she had expected to hear something terrible.

“Mate,” Ron started carefully, trying to keep his anger in check. “It's just two weeks. I know they aren't nice to you, but if you have to go back, I'm sure there is a good reason.”

Harry faced him and nodded slowly. “It has something to do with the wards. He is trying to weaken them and if I go back, he won't be able to do whatever he is trying.”

“It's only two weeks,” Hermione assured.

“Only?”

“Only?” Ron said angry. He wasn't able to control himself any more. Harry acted like he was going to hell instead of home for two weeks. “It's just two bloody weeks! It won't hurt you!”

Harry’s laugh was emotionless. “Like you have any idea how horrible they can be.”

“Harry, please, you don't want them to get hurt, do you?” Hermione begged carefully.

Harry shot an angry glare at her and opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind and stayed silent.

“You have an easy life,” Ron accused. “We have no money at home and I always have to fight to get attention. For once something doesn’t go your way and you start to complain?”

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but Ron didn't give her a change to speak. “The three of us do something heroic every year and we,” he pointed at Hermione and himself, “stand in your shadow while you get all the praise and now you complain because the Dursley’s don't treat you like a hero!”

Instead of shouting back at Ron, Harry stood up, gave Ron an angry glare and walked out of the common room.

“Ron, did you have to do that?”

“Hermione,” Ron said softly. “I'm just so tired of him. You're always worrying about him and he‘s always whining.”

Hermione bit her lip.

“Please Hermione,” Ron pleaded. He was afraid that Hermione would go after Harry and leave him alone. After all Harry was the famous one and he was just another Weasley.

Sensing his insecurity, Hermione nodded slowly and kissed Ron softy. “Just promise me that you’ll try to settle matters between you two.”

_______________________________________________________

The Christmas holiday passed quickly and before Hermione realised it, they were back at Hogwarts. The Great Hall was still decorated to look like a winter wonderland:big trees with icicles, singing angels and burning candles stood in very corner of the hall. The tables and benches were covered with a dusting of snow. After Hermione had admired the decoration, her eyes scanned the Gryffindor House table for her black haired friend.

“He isn't here Ron,” Hermione said softly, trying not to sound worried.

They hadn’t seen Harry on the train and now he wasn't in the Great Hall either. Ron took her hand and led her towards the table. Hermione sat down on the snow covered bench, which magically wasn't cold at all, and looked at the teachers. Lupin looked questioningly back at her. Hermione shrugged.

“Lupin doesn't know were Harry is,” Hermione whispered to Ron.

“Don't worry,” Ron assured her. “He probably just missed the train or something.”

Hermione tried not to worry during the feast, but failed. She felt guilty that she hadn't sent him a Christmas card or even a letter. She hadn't thought about him at all, she had been too busy having fun with Ron and her family while skiing in Switzerland.

Perhaps they just hadn’t found he on the train and he already retreated to the common room like he did at the start of every year. That thought made her relax a little bit.

The next morning she was worried sick. Harry hadn’t been in the common room or breakfast either. Instead of just waiting she sought out Professor Lupin, who also looked worried.

“Professor,” Hermione greeted.

The Defence against the Dark Arts teacher nodded curtly.

“Have you seen Harry?”

“No,” Lupin said. “But I'm going to his home after breakfast, to see why he wasn't on the train.”

Hermione nodded, but didn't turn away.

“He'll be fine,” Lupin assured, but he sounded worried.

“Okay,” Hermione said and she went back to the table to join the other Gryffindors.

“Did he know anything?” Ron asked without taking his eyes off his plate.

“Not yet, he’s going to his home in a bit.”

“I'm sure he’ll be fine,” Ron assured.

Hermione nodded and tried to focus her thoughts on the upcoming lessons instead of Harry.

________________________________________________________

Lupin walked towards the door of Number Four Privet Drive. He was worried. The whole morning he had wondered why Harry wasn't at school and why he hadn't sent an owl. At first he had thought that Death Eaters had attacked the house, but Dumbledore denied his theory by ensuring the wards were still up. Lupin took a deep breath and knocked at the door.

A horse faced woman opened the door. “Yes?” Her eyes scanned Lupin and widened when she realised who he was. “Thank god you came!”

Lupin frowned. “Is something wrong with Harry?”

“Yes! Come in!”

Lupin entered the house. “Where is he? What happened? Why isn't he at school?”

“We found him the other night,” she said while leading him up the staircase. “He hadn't come home and it was getting late so we went out to search for him and we found him all bloody and unconscious.”

“Why didn't you-”

“We wanted to contact you but we didn't know how! The boy left his owl at school!” They had reached the top of the stairs and Petunia pointed at the nearest door.

Lupin opened the door and stepped into the room. Harry was lying on a small bed with bandages around his arms, head, and chest.

“Merlin ,” whispered Lupin as he raced towards the boy, not paying any attention to the state of the room. “I have to get him to Hogwarts as quickly as I can!” He lifted the boy carefully, surprised by how light he was and rushed downstairs. Petunia opened the door for him. As soon as he was outside the wards he apparated to Hogwarts.

___________________________________________________________

Severus bemoaned the fact that he had to start off the term with a class full of Gryffindors. Before he started his lesson, he scanned the class noticing that Potter was missing. The Potion Master couldn't remember seeing him last night at the feast, but then again, he had skipped the feast at the start of the school year as well. The brat was probably still sleeping or too arrogant to come to class.

Snape banished the thoughts about the Golden Boy from his mind and focused on the class.
“Today,” he started, “You will brew a complicated potion; a potion capable of breaking a mind lock. He waved his wand at the blackboard and a long list of instructions and ingredients appeared. Intimidated, the students silently began gathering everything they needed to brew the potion.

Near the end of the period, the door flew open and Professor Lupin entered the class. Snape noticed that the werewolf was pale and out of breath.

“Severus.”

“Continue your potion,” sneered Snape and he walked towards Lupin. “Outside.”

Lupin nodded and followed the Potion Master. “We need your help in the infirmary,” Lupin said as soon as they were outside the class.

“Why?”

Lupin ignored Snape's question, and handed him a list with potions. “Be quick, Severus!” And Lupin ran away, back to the infirmary assumed Snape.

The dark eyes of the Potion Master scanned the piece of paper Lupin had given him and he knew that, whoever needed those potions, was in a bad shape, perhaps fatally injured.
Snape threw the door open and yelled “Class dismissed.” He ignored the questions of the students and started to take the required potions out of the cupboards. When he had every potion on the list, he walked out of the class, ignoring the students and hurried towards the infirmary.
As he entered the infirmary, he saw that Dumbledore, Poppy and the werewolf were looking down on one of the beds. Snape couldn't see who was lying in it.

“The potions.” Snape announced. Poppy bustled towards him, giving him a brief smile.

“Thank you, dear,” Poppy said, before disappearing into her office.

Snape was hestitant to discover who lay in the bed. Slowly, he made his way towards the bed and when he recognized the pale figure, his heart skipped a beat.

Harry Potter lay on the bed, his hair smeared with blood and his body covered with bruises and scars.

“What happened to him?” Snape asked after he had turned away from the boy.

“I found him,” Lupin explained. “When we discovered that he wasn't at school this morning, I went to his home. His aunt said they found him like this; that he was attack by something or someone.”

Snape frowned. He had no idea what to make of the explanation. Attacked by what? By whom? For a moment he considered that Harry's family could have done this, but that was just ridiculous. They treated him like a king. The brat probably got himself into trouble like he usually did.

“Severus,” Dumbledore's concerned voice pulled the potions master out of his thoughts. “Does Voldemort something to do with it?”

“No,” answered Snape without thought. “I would have known and he would have made sure that he was dead before dumping him.”

“Remus, was there anything out of place in the house?”

Lupin remained silent for a moment. “I'm sorry Headmaster. I was in such a hurry”

“I understand, my boy.”

“Can you please discuss this elsewhere? I need to examine him and give him a proper treatment,” Poppy said.

Dumbledore nodded. “Let's go to your office, Remus. It's closer than mine or Severus' office.”

Lupin nodded, looked at the boy one last time, and led Snape and Dumbledore out of the infirmary.

Snape was lost. He had no idea what had happened to the boy and whatever it was, it was something horrible. Even most people who got tortured by the Dark Lord didn't look that horrible if they survived. Snape had been so lost in thought he hadn't even realised they were already in the werewolf's office. He sat down beside Dumbledore and waited for someone to break the silence.

After what felt like an hour, Lupin finally spoke. “I can't imagine how Harry could end up like this.”

“It's wasn't Voldemort,” the Headmaster said. “Either of you have another assumption?”

Snape remained silent, wondering if he should tell them about the brief though that had crossed his mind earlier, even though it was very unlikely to be true.

“Severus, is something bothering you?” The Headmaster looked at him as if he knew he was not telling them something.

He took a deep breath and decided it won't hurt anyone to spit out what he thought. “His relatives could have done it, but they probably treat him like a king.”

“But Petunia said-”

“She could have lied, Remus,” Dumbledore said. “You could be right, Severus. I think we best wait until Harry is awake and ask him what happened.”

Snape nodded curtly.

“Remus, could you go and find Ron and Hermione?” Dumbledore asked. “I think young Harry could use his friends when he wakes up.”

Remus nodded and left his office.

“Severus have you heard anything from Voldemort? It's been quiet around him and his Deatheaters but I fear it's the silence before the storm.”

“I haven't heard anything, Sir,” Snape answered. “But I overheard a couple of Deatheaters talking about some kind of plan.”

The headmaster frowned and gestured for the Potions Master to continue.

“I have no clue what the plan could be, but I have the feeling I will find out soon.” Snape took a deep breath. “What shall I tell the Dark Lord about Potter?”

Dumbledore looked puzzled. “You don't have to tell him anything.”

“I live here in the castle and if I don't tell him-”

“You right, dear boy, but we don't know what happened to Harry. We should take one step at the time.”

Severus nodded. One step at the time, he thought bitterly. What if he was called to His side right now? What if Draco discovered Harry’s state and reported it to his father? The Dark Lord would surely question his loyalty,since Severus was supposed to be the spy inside the castle, not Draco. Snape hated being a spy. His life was always in danger and he had to do terrible things that weighed upon his conscious, but Dumbledore asked him to continue to spy on the Dark Lord. Since Dumbledore had taken him under his protection, Snape felt obligated to do everything he was asked.

“Severus, could you go and check on Harry, please? See if Madame Pomfrey needs any help.”

The Potions Master nodded and left the werewolf’s office. He found Poppy sitting beside Potter's bed with a piece of parchment in her hand and a worried expression on her face.

“How is he?” asked Snape.

Poppy looked up, shrugging. “I honestly don't know. He will heal, physically.”

“What do you mean?”

Poppy walked towards Snape and gave him the parchment she was reading. His black eyes scanned the parchment and when he was done, he looked at Poppy. He was shocked by what was listed, but refused to show it. “Are you sure -”
“Yes,” said Poppy. “But I can't believe it.”

Before Snape could ask more about it, the small boy on the bed began to tremble heavily. Poppy rushed to the side of the bed and Snape followed her.

“Oh Merlin,” said Poppy while she tried to hold the boy still. The seizure started to get worse. “Was there a potion that shouldn't have been mixed with something?”

Snape shook his head and helped the nurse to steady Potter so he won't hurt himself. After a minute or two, though it felt longer, the seizure stopped as abruptly as they started.

“Oh Merlin,” Poppy said worried. “Maybe he has some brain damage after all.”

“He has no brain damage,” said Snape angrily. “The foolish brat is suffering from withdrawal symptoms.” Poppy looked at him, clearly not believing the Potions Master. “A while ago I discovered that one of the students had brewed a large amount of Dreamless Sleep potion, but hadn’t yet managed to identify the culprit. The house elves were instructed to keep their eyes open but the student managed to hide his stash. It seems I have finally found my thief.”

Poppy looked puzzled at the broken boy. “In all my years at Hogwarts I've never had an addicted child in my infirmary.”

Snape ignored Poppy's statement. “You're going to have you hands full with him. He needs constant monitoring and when he awakes he will be a nightmare.”

“You're familiar with addictions?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I have seen some addicts during my... darker times.”

“What do I have to do then? I can't keep him here. There are too many potions around,” She looked around as if she was looking for a solution. “And you said he needed constant monitoring,” Snape nodded curt. “But I don't have time for that! I have a lot of other children to take care of and sometimes I'm need at Sint Mungo's.”

“I'm sure the Headmaster will find a solution to this little problem.” Snape sneered at the boy. How could he have been so foolish as to drink Dreamless Sleep Potion every night? Snape always thought that he was the exact replica of his father, but it would seem he was far stupider. As far as he knew, James Potter had never gotten himself beaten to a pulp or addicted to controlled potions. A grim fear overwhelmed the potion master. This was the Chosen One? The Saviour of the Wizarding world? This pathetic child was destined to free them from the Dark Lord's reign of terror? Snape knew if the Dark Lord got wind of the brat's condition, he would probably laugh and thank whomever had reduced Potter to such a miserable state. Now the only one standing between the Dark Lord and his endless reign was the aging Dumbledore.

“How is he?” the concerned voice of the Headmaster pulled Snape out of his bitter thoughts. Lupin wasn't with him.

“Bad,” Snape answered. “I have found our Dreamless Sleep Potion addict.”

Dumbledore sighed. He suddenly looked very old and tired.

“Headmaster, please,” started Poppy. “Severus told me the boy needs constant monitoring and will be a nightmare when he wakes up. He can't stay here.”

“You're right, both of you. We need to find a solution, and quickly. We have to keep him at Hogwarts to protect him from Voldemort,” Poppy shivered, “but he can't stay in the infirmary.”

“I'm sure Lupin would love to watch over him,” Snape suggested.

“He can't. Don't forget the full moon and I don't think he's tough enough for the job,” argued Dumbledore.

Snape had the horrible feeling that the Headmaster had already picked his candidate. “And Minerva?”

The headmaster shook his head. “No, she's too busy.” A small smile appeared on his face. “But I know the appropriate person for the job.”

“No.”

“Severus,” Dumbledore said in a business like tone. “You are what Harry will need. You are strict, you will not yield to his begging, and you have knowledge of addictions and withdrawals.”

Snape gave the Headmaster an angry glare. If looks could kill, Dumbledore would have been dead. “That might be true but Potter and I... We are not compatible,” Snape sneered. “Especially after his actions last year. I'm sure if you put us together alone, I will not be able to restrain myself from killing him for long. And besides, what of my classes?”

Dumbledore considered the Potions Master. Blue eyes met black, and a shiver ran down Snape’s spine. He knew he was going to lose this argument, like he always did against the Headmaster. He hated to be in a position where he was indebted to another. The headmaster had made it very clear when Snape returned to the light that he had to do what was asked of him. Snape had done so for many years and he chafed under it. He had never been free: first he had served the Dark Lord and now he served Dumbledore. He sighed and looked over at the broken boy. If he hadn't been so stupid so many years ago, Potter wouldn't be lying on the hospital bed because he wouldn't exist and Snape would have a child or even children. He and Lily....

“Severus, don't make me force you,” said Dumbledore with a hint of sadness in his voice. “And we'll cancel your potion classes for the week.”

Poppy looked curiously from Snape to Dumbledore and back, but the men acted like she wasn't there.

“Just for a bit, until he is better. You won’t have to coddle him,” persuaded Dumbledore.

 “I'll do it, but don't expect me to be kind.” said Snape angrily.

“Just be fair, my dear boy.”

Two hours later Poppy had left the boy in the dungeons and instructed Snape on caring for his injuries. Before she left, she assured him that she would come by everyday to check on Potter and that Snape could always call her if she was needed.
The Potions master was not happy with the arrangement. Not only did he have to babysit Potter, he had to make sure he didn't get his hand on any Dreamless Sleep Potion. To be safe, Snape had removed all the potions from his private quarter to his office so Potter couldn't get addicted to something else. Snape hoped that the brat would sleep most of the week, so he would have only to endure the seizures and not the erratic behaviour that most withdrawing addicts displayed. Snape was convinced that The Golden Boy would be a lot of trouble. He didn't have any strength of character and would probably start whining for his potion as soon as he awoke.

Snape awoke to the sound of breaking glass announcing that Potter was also awake. Snape got up, pulled on his night robe and grabbed his wand from the nightstand. Without hesitating he marched into the living room were a small, black haired boy was frantically searching the cabinets. Snape was surprised that the boy didn't notice him. Snape pointed his wand at the chandelier and the candles flared.

________________________________________________________

Harry slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was that every part of his body ached and the second thing he noted was that he wasn't at the Dursley’s anymore. He took his glasses from the nightstand beside the bed. When his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he could make out the vague shape of a large wardrobe and a desk. Slowly, he got up, trying to ignore the pain. He needed to find his potion. He wanted to forget, to sleep without dreaming.
He searched for his trunk but could not find it. Perhaps it wasn't in the room yet. Carefully, he walked towards the door, trying not to make any sound. He had no clue where he was or who else was in this place and he didn't want to find out right now. The only thing he wanted and needed was his potion. He would do anything just to have a small sip of it.

He opened the door, hoping it wouldn’t make a sound and luckily for him it didn't. He entered what looked like a living area. For a moment he looked around, trying to identify the furniture in the dark. He couldn’t spot his trunk anywhere and decided to search the cabinets. He opened the nearest one. It was full of glasses, mugs, plates and cutlery. Perhaps behind the glasses... He carefully reached behind the glass, trying to feel if there was anything shaped like a vial.

Suddenly the sound of breaking glass disturbed the silence. Harry jumped. Hopefully, no one else had heard it. For a moment he stood frozen to the spot, but when he didn't hear any sound, he continued his search. He had to find his potion. If he didn't find them he would dream, he would have nightmares, he would be tortured again. He wanted to feel nothing. No pain, no emotions, nothing.

Harry jumped violently when the room was suddenly bathed in light. He looked around nervously, trying to find the person who illuminated the room.

“Potter!”

Automaticly, Harry shifted his gazed to where the voice had came from. Near a dark door stood his least favourite teacher, Professor Snape. Harry swallowed, trying to quell the fear that was attempting to master him. What was he doing here? he thought. What was he going to do, punish him for being out of bed? Did he hide the potions? Thoughts raced through Harry's head, but only one thing mattered: his potion.

Snape stepped forward and Harry took a few steps backwards. He kept his eyes focused on the professor looking for clues about what he was going to do.

“Potter,” said the pale teacher again.

Harry noted that he had his wand in his hand. Was he going to cast a hex on him? Or a jinx?

“Potter, why in Merlin’s name are you out of bed at this insane hour?” asked Snape angrily.

Harry ignored the question, taking another step away from Snape.

“Potter answer me!”

“P-poti-” started Harry, but he stopped as soon as he realised that Snape would probably just laugh at him for being weak and needing a potion to sleep. Then again, he didn't want to anger Snape anymore. He didn't want to get punished.

“No potions,” sneered Snape. “I took them all away.”

Harry was confused. He knew? But how? What? But without the potions... He bit his lip, avoiding Snape's black eyes.

When the Potions Master took another step forward, Harry hurried back into the room where he had awakened. He heard Snape mumble a few words and then there was complete silence.

Harry lay on his bed and staring at the dark ceiling. This was going to be a long, rough night.

_______________________________________________________

This had been the second time he had taken care of a child in his whole life. The first time was about seven years ago when Draco had been very sick and now the headmaster was forcing him to take care of the son of his enemy. The week had not gone as planned: he had hoped that he only had to make sure Potter stayed off the potion and that he would be able to look after himself, but he wasn't. Snape had to make sure he ate, and he had to wash the stupid boy because he wasn't capable of doing it himself, and as thanks the brat had vomited all over him.

The first day started off really badly and set the tone for the rest of the week: Potter had hit him in the face with a surprising amount of force while screaming all kinds of creative insults. Of course, Snape had become very angry at the boy and locked him in his room for a few hours, ignoring his angry cries for the potion. But that wasn't the worst. After the yelling and the violent behaviour, came the crying and begging. Snape would rather spend a month on a deserted island with the Dark Lord himself than comfort a student. Snape had chosen to pretend he didn't hear the brat crying and pleading until the night Potter’s screams awakened him. When he arrived in the guest room he found Potter slumped against the wall, crying his eyes out. At first Snape wanted to go back to his bed and leave the boy in his misery, but something told him to see if Potter was okay.

"Potter?" he asked sternly, but no reaction came.When he was close enough, Snape touched Potter's arm, which caused the boy flinch violently. Snape looked into Potter's green eyes, which seemed to be less bright then they used to be.

"Don't leave me alone," begged Potter fearfully.

Snape was surprised by what Potter had asked, but managed to hide it. He sat down on the bed, wondering what he should do with the clearly desperate boy. But before Snape could say anything, Potter had grabbed his robe and was now crying against him. Potter has lost his mind, was the first thing Snape thought but he knew better. Potter was a complete mess and emotionally very unstable.

The week had passed very slowly for Snape. He was tired and in a very bad mood, but refused to admit it. The only good thing that had happened during the week was that Potter recovered from his Dreamless Sleep Potion addiction. Poppy had said that he could return to his dorm today and start classes the following day. Together with the headmaster, Snape had decided to ban Potter from the potions classroom for the coming weeks because it could be too tempting.
Potter had just left his quarters and now Snape was pouring a drink for the headmaster and himself.

"Tell me, dear boy, how was Harry?"

Snape passed Dumbledore a drink and sank down in the comfortable chair beside the fireplace. "He was a burden. Only in the last two nights have I managed to sleep normally."

Dumbledore nodded and took a sip of the mead. "But besides that, how was he? Did he say anything about what happened?"

"Of course not," said Snape. "But I noticed that he has a lot of scars on his arms."

Dumbledore looked at Snape who knew what the headmaster was thinking: self mutilation. Snape had thought the same when he saw them, but he couldn't picture Potter sitting in a dark corner, cutting himself. Suddenly, Snape remembered the day he found Potter near the lake, toying with a knife. The same knife that someone had tried to steal from his office later that day.

Dumbledore interrupted his thoughts. "I think I have to talk to him myself, then."

__________________________________________________________-

Harry was wandering around the castle aimlessly. He felt horrible, lost and had no idea what to do. He was expected to go to the Gryffindor tower, but he didn't want to be around so many people and he was afraid that they were going to ask questions. He was glad that he didn't had to stay with Snape anymore, but on the other hand he had felt safe. The guest room had been his and no one except potions master himself could bother him.

The vague memories of the week with Snape made him feel angry, annoyed and embarrassed. But no one had ever done so much for him. No one had ever made sure he ate or came to him when he had woken up from a nightmare. While Snape wasn't the kindest person around and he hated Harry, he had taken care of him. Harry felt very confused. He was mad at Snape because he was sure he would use everything he could against him ,not to think of what would happen when if the Slytherins found out. He could imagine how Malfoy would react if he knew that Snape had bathed and fed him. Now he could never face Snape again. Especially after he had hit the man in the face and vomited all over him.He sighed deeply and decided that he had to go back to the Gryffindor Tower. All his stuff was in the dormitory and even if he wasn't going to sleep there, he needed to retrieve it.

"Shivering snow," said Harry to the Fat Lady when he arrived at the Gryffindor Tower.

The Fat Lady glared at him, clearly annoyed by his late arrival. "Wrong, boy. The password changed a few days ago."

"Just let me in," Harry pleaded, knowing it probably wouldn't work.

"No password, no entrance."

Harry sighed in defeat, knowing there was no way he was getting into the tower tonight. Everyone was already inside and if he went to Professor McGonagall, she would not only worry and ask probing questions but also punish him for being out past curfew. No, turning to one of the professors wasn't an option nor was getting into the tower. The only place he could think to go was the Room of Requirement.

He sighed and made his way to the seventh floor, hoping he wouldn't come across Flich, Peeves, or anyone else. The last thing he wanted now was to get caught out of bed. He wanted to be alone and to get some rest, but he was afraid to sleep. Sleep without his potion brought terrible nightmares which he wanted to avoid at all costs, even if it meant never sleeping again. But Harry knew he wouldn't be able to stay awake for the rest of his life, however short it may be. He was sure that, at some point, he would just collapse or be forced to sleep by Madame Pomfrey.

The Room of Requirement appeared the same as the previous time he had been in there: a bedroom with a bathroom. The bed looked very inviting and suddenly Harry realized how tired he was. No he shouldn't lie down, he scolded himself, he shouldn't go to bed and enjoy the comfortable mattress. He sank down against the wall beside the bed and stared longingly at the bed. He tried to suppress a yawn, but failed. Sleep was lurking very close by, trying to take over, but Harry resisted with the last of his strength. He started naming all the spells he knew, then he continued to classify them by colour, effect and alphabet, but eventually exhaustion overcame Harry's valiant efforts to stay awake.

Harry awakened in the morning feeling terrible. His back ached, his neck was stiff, and he was still exhausted. The images of his nightmares were still haunting him, terrifying him. It took him a moment to realize he was at Hogwarts and not at Privet Drive. Slowly he got up, trying to banish the haunting images from his mind by shaking his head. He tried to concentrate his thoughts on something else, but whatever he thought about, it always led him back to his recent nightmares in which Cedric and Sirius blamed him for killing them and his uncle punished him for being a murderer.

Freak, he was called in his so called home. Yes, he was a freak and freaks deserved to be punished. His uncle had told him he was too dangerous to be around people, so that's why he was locked up in his room the whole vacation and now someone has brought him back to Hogwarts. Now he could hurt someone or even kill them. He had to go to classes with other students and he had to eat in the Great Hall with the rest of the school. Every moment of the day he was endangering his fellow pupils and they didn't even realise it. They thought he was their Saviour, but he knew he wasn't. He knew that he would never be capable of destroying Voldemort. The times he had escaped from him were just luck, not skill. He had tried to make people understand, but no one ever listened. No one ever looked beyond what they wanted to see: a hero. But what kind of hero caused two people to die? A pathetic hero.

Harry chewed on his lower lip. He needed to get rid of his thoughts and the painful memories. To feel nothing at all, thought Harry, was the thing he wanted most right now. He knew a way to feel numb again and though he swore he wouldn't do it anymore he needed to. He needed some control over his life and a knife could give it to him. Just a little cut, just this once wouldn't do any harm, would it?

Suddenly a knife appeared on the nightstand. Carefully, as if the knife was very dangerous, he picked it up and admired it. It was as if the blade was begging him to let it cut his skin and taste his blood. Just this once...
Harry sat down on the bed and rolled up his sleeve. The bruises on his arm were still visible, but they didn't look as bad as a week ago. The cold blade of the knife kissed his pale skin. Harry held his breath while the knife cut slowly into his pale skin. When a small crimson rivulet streamed down his arm, he was able to breathe again with relief. For a few moments he just looked at the blood and how it seemed to take the pain away with it. It had been so long since he felt nothing, even the Dreamless Sleep potion couldn't achieve that.

A small, satisfied smile appeared on his face when he was finished with the knife. Three new cuts marred his arm. When Harry had cleaned them, he got up again and made his way towards the door, not even bothering to hide them away with a glamour charm, the time of worrying about what would happen if someone found out was over. He didn't care what happened to him as long as he could hold onto the numbness.

Harry had missed all his morning classes and during his afternoon Defence Against the Dark Arts, Lupin kept shooting him worried glances. He sat alone at the back of the classroom completely ignoring any other students and trying not to jump when someone came near him or asked him something. Every time Lupin had asked him something, he had shrugged. At the end of the class, Lupin asked him to stay behind, and while Harry was tempted to ignore his request he stayed. If he didn't, he would most likely be punished and he wanted to avoid that at all costs.

"Harry," said Lupin with a soft and gentle voice. "Why did you miss all your morning classes?"

Harry just shrugged. His eyes were focused on the professor and he was following his every movement so he was prepared to back away should he attempt to hit him.

Lupin sighed. He tried to get closer to Harry, but with every step he took towards him, Harry took two steps back. "I won't hurt you."

Harry simply ignored him, no longer able to believe the words. His uncle had sat it many times before and always hit him anyways.

"What happened when you were staying at your relatives? Did you really run into a fight?"

For a moment, Harry looked puzzled at his teacher, wondering who had told him that. Then he realized that his uncle had used that as a cover up for what he had done to him. Was Lupin the one who had brought him to Hogwarts? Did he really believe what his aunt and uncle had told him? Harry calculated his chances. If he told what had really happened, his uncle would kill him in the most horrible and painful way he could think of, but if they knew about all his injuries, and Harry assumed they did, it wasn't likely that they would believe that theory. That he was trampled by a herd of elephants might be a better lie, except that elephants generally didn't walk freely in the streets of London.

"Harry?"

Harry snapped out his thoughts with a violent jerk. While he had been lost in thought, Lupin had taken the opportunity to approach Harry closely. Harry took a few steps back and nodded curtly at his professor, signaling his attention.

Again Lupin sighed. "Dumbledore wants to see you. You can skip Divination to go to him now. The password is Chocolate Frogs."

Harry turned and hurried out of the classroom. Dumbledore wanted to see him, what did he want? thought Harry anxiously. He was almost certain it had something to do with the fact that he had missed the train and been brought to Hogwarts in such a bad shape. He decided that he must face the inevitable eventually so he might as well get it out of the way now. If he just refused to tell the truth, they couldn't discover what really happened anyway, or could they? Harry suppressed the thought of Snape performing Legilimency on him.

"Come in," said Dumbledore after Harry had knocked on the door.

Harry entered the office. The last time he was in the office, he had shouted at the headmaster and broken several of his possessions but everything seemed to be repaired and the office looked exactly the same as it had before Harry had heard the prophecy.

"Harry," said the Headmaster. His blue eyes were twinkling behind his half moon spectacles. "Sit down, my dear boy."

Harry did as told.

"How are you?" asked the Headmaster and Harry thought he heard concern in his voice. Surly he had imagined that. No one was ever concerned about his well being.

Harry shrugged. He hadn't talked to Lupin and he wasn't planning on talking to Dumbledore either. Words were unnecessary, they could only do him harm.

"Do you want to say something to me, Harry?"

Harry avoided looking into the headmaster eyes and shook his head.
Dumbledore nodded. "Now, we need to discuss you education."

Education? Was there a problem? He couldn't imagine that a few missed lessons meant that he was too far behind to keep up.

"You're going to have extra lessons in everything that will help you to defend yourself against Voldemort," Dumbledore's voice had changed from casual to business-like.

"From who?" said Harry his voice hoarse from lack of use.

"You will have two lessons a week, one from Alastor Moody and one from Professor Snape," announced Dumbledore.

Harry grunted. "Why can't I have both lessons with Mad-Eye Moody? Or can't Lupin teach me?"

"Professor Lupin, Harry," said Dumbledore patient. "And Alastor doesn't have time to teach you twice a week and Professor Lupin isn't as experienced as Professor Snape."

"Professor Snape will just torture me," mumbled Harry defeated.

A sad smile appeared on Dumbledore's face. "I'm sure he won't. He might be a bit harsh, but he would never torture a student."

Snape stared at his plate, not feeling very hungry. Dumbledore had once again forced him into something he didn't want to do. The headmaster asked him, or better said demanded, that he would give Potter extra lessons to prepare him to face the Dark Lord. The reason behind the sudden lessons was the headmaster’s fear that a confrontation with the Dark Lord was rapidly approaching.
Even more troubling was that the headmaster also requested that he keep an eye on Gryffindor’s Golden Boy and report anything unusual. Between the lines Dumbledore had asked him to find out what happened to the boy while he was away during the winter holidays. Snape had protested but yet again the headmaster had blackmailed him.

Snape thought that everyone was overreacting by thinking something terrible had happened to the boy. He just had gotten himself into a nasty fight, which wasn't too surprising with his poor attitude but it didn't explain the scars on his arms.

The potions master looked up from his plate and scanned the Great Hall. When his eyes reached the Gryffindor table, he saw something extraordinary: Potter was sitting alone at the end of the table, staring at his plate as if the little food on it was poisonous. The last time he saw the hero of Gryffindor sitting away from the others students was four years ago when the whole school thought he was the heir of Slytherin. But even then he had had the support from his friends. Snape noticed that Weasley and Granger were sitting at the middle of the table, laughing about some idiotic joke. Suddenly, the Weasley boy gave Granger a swift peck on her cheek. So the rumours are true, thought Snape when he directed his eyes to his plate again. Seems Potter is jealous.

________________________________________________________

Harry made his way to the empty classroom on the second floor where he had his extra lessons. He walked as slowly as he could as if trying to avoid the inevitable. Before entering the classroom, he tried to suppress the fear that was building up inside of him. He had never been so afraid of the potions professor because now Snape had more material than ever to blackmail and humiliate him with. Harry took a deep breath, knocked on the door and without waiting for an answer he entered the snake’s den.

"Mister Potter," said Snape in a cold voice. "Barely on time."

Harry ignored his comment on cutting it so close and stared at the floor.

"Let's start, shall we? Block every curse that I throw at you." Before giving Harry time to pull his wand and prepare to block spells, Snape had fired a strong curse at him.

The curse hit Harry in his stomach and knocked him hard against the wall. He felt as if he couldn't breathe, as if the all the oxygen in the room was gone.

"Block!" sneered Snape while Harry got up, trying to hide the fact that he had trouble breathing.Snape waved his wand and Harry could breath normally again.

Again Snape threw a curse at him, but now Harry was prepared and yelled: "Protego!"

"Non-verbal spells Potter," said Snape without lowering his wand. "Surprise you're opponent."

For the third time Snape threw a curse at him and Harry tried to block it without saying a word, but failed. Again he was thrown against the wall, but Harry didn't say a word because he knew he deserved it. Failure must be punished, only that way could one learn and improve, but Harry was an exception. His uncle had been punishing him hard, trying to teach him to become better, to stop failing, but it didn't help. He was a lost cause. A freak, a burden.

__________________________________________________________

"Professor Lupin told me you were good at non-verbal spells," said Snape after Harry had failed to block for the fifth time. "Seems he is wrong."

Snape watched how Potter tried to get up. He thought it was odd that the brat didn't complain about how harsh and unfair his teaching methods were. Maybe he really did learn to control his temper.


"Concentrate, Potter," warned Snape before firing another spell and this time the spell hit a barrier, a block. Finally, thought Snape. He was beginning to lose his patience with the brat because he knew that Potter could do that. The boy had faced You Know Who four times now, completed three dangerous tasks, and trained a part of the student body in secret last year. Although he would never mention it out loud, he knew that Potter would be able to learn and use strong magic but now his magic was substandard and pathetic.

Snape lifted his wand and concentrated on a more powerful,harder to block spell. A silver jet of light appeared from his wand which broke Potter’s pathetic block and hit the boy. Snape raised his wand, causing the boy to levitate. With a powerful flick, he lifted the spell and sent Potter crashing into the wall with enormous power. He fell down and landed on his stomach. Snape could hear him moaning softly before becoming silent.

"Get up!" sneered Snape when Potter made no movement to get up. Maybe the spells was a bit too powerful. When the boy didn't obey, Snape walked slowly towards him. "Potter," he said sternly. No reaction. The Potion Master took hold of the boys wrist which caused a reaction that Snape hadn't expected: Potter flinched violently, jumped to his feet and backed away towards the corner, while his eyes scanned the room anxiously.
"Potter," said Snape again, but this time his voice was softer.

For a split second, Potter looked him in the eye before staring down at the floor.

"That is enough for today," said Snape. The Potions Master turned around and left the classroom. He couldn't stop thinking how odd Potter's behaviour was and how much different he acted than last year. Was he the only one who noticed the change in boy's behaviour? Snape thought the boy had acted strangely during his stay in his private quarters as well:crawling in the corner if he raised his voice or tried to touch him but Snape had attributed the behavior to his addiction. But now the boy was declared clean. Why do I care anyway? thought Snape bitterly and suppressed further thoughts.

___________________________________________________________

Harry sank down to the floor. His back and head ached due to the numerous collisions with the wall. He pulled up his knees and hugged them while he stared at the opposite wall. How could I've been so stupid? thought Harry. He had hoped that the git would at least mention something from the week they had spent together. Deep inside he had hoped that Snape would be kind to him but he should have know better. Snape was an evil git and would never ever be kind to anyone except his Slytherins. It was better this way. He didn't want Snape to care about him, he just wanted to be loved by someone...

Harry sighed. He hated it that Snape had seen him when he was in such a weak state but the git had helped him. He had cared enough to make sure he ate, bathed and he even was there when he woke up from a nightmare and once the Potion Master had let him cry on his shoulder. It was humiliating but it felt so good. No one ever cared enough to help him with such basic needs and no one ever held him while he was crying. But didn't he deserve everything that happened to him? He had killed Cedric and Sirius, hadn't he? And his parents died because of him...

Harry swallowed, trying to suppress the tears that came, but he couldn't. Big salty tears streamed down his cheeks and Harry made no attempt to wipe them away. He was so confused. He wanted to have a family, someone who cared for him, someone who would give him a hug when he needed one, someone who would be worried about him when he was doing stunts on his broom, someone who would give him rules and watch out for him. But he knew that he would never get that. He didn't deserve to be loved because he was a murderer, a freak. His aunt and uncle had always told them they tried to love him but they couldn't because he was too freakish and not good enough. He couldn't cook good enough, he didn't clean fast enough. They were right: he was a burden. He cost money and space but he didn't deserve it. None of this would have happened if his uncle had just drowned him when they found him on the doorsteps, but they wanted to give him a chance and he blew it. Of course his uncle didn't kill him because he was afraid of the Order but he found other ways to punish him and Harry didn't complain.

"Harry?" said a soft voice.

Harry jumped. He hadn't noticed that Professor Lupin had entered the classroom. No, Harry though desperate. He saw me cry, now he knows I'm weak. He tried to wipe the evidence of his tears away, though it was in vain.

"Have you been crying?" Lupin’s voice sounded worried.

"No," said Harry with a surprisingly steady voice. He jumped to his feet and looked at the floor.

"Why are you here?" asked Lupin while he stepped closer to Harry.

"Extra lessons with Snape," answered Harry. He didn't see the cloud of anger slide over Lupin’s face. "I think I'll be going now."

"Did Snape make you cry?"

"No, he didn't I was just -," he had no idea how to finish his sentence.

"Are you sure? Don't you want to talk about it?"

The last think he wanted was to talk. Why did no one ever leave him alone! Didn't I want somebody to be concerned? No Lupin just pretends he cares. He never came to check on him, so why would he care now?

"Harry?" Lupin reached out to him, trying to take his arm.

"NO!" yelled Harry and he moved quickly away from his teacher. He ignored Lupin who was almost begging him to talk and rushed out of the classroom to the Gryffindor common room.

________________________________________________________

A hard knock on his door made Snape sigh in annoyance. He was reading a very interesting book about different kinds of potions that would work on animals. Snape had never had any interest in brewing potions for animal usage but Hagrid had a very sick unicorn foal and asked Snape if he could brew something that could help the foal or ease it pains.

Snape opened the door and looked straight into the face of an angry looking werewolf. "Lupin," sneered Snape. "To what do I own the pleasure?"

"What did you do to him?!" said Lupin. He was obvious trying to stay calm.

"If you can define 'him' I might be able to answer."

"Harry, of course!"

Snape frowned. "I just tried to teach him how to block without using words, as Dumbledore requested of me."

"You have been bullying him!" accused Lupin.

"Let's continue this conversation inside my quarters." Snape stepped aside so that the wolf could enter. "Why do you assume that I was bullying him? Did he run to you, asking for justice?" sneered Snape after he had closed the door.

"No," started Lupin. "I was on the second floor when I heard crying so I went into the classroom were the sound was coming from and there he was, sitting on the floor hugging his knees with a tear stained face."

Snape sat down in an armchair near the fireplace but didn't bother to offer Lupin a seat.
"And why do you think I was the cause of Mr. Potter’s sorrow?" Snape couldn't believe that the pathetic boy was crying over their lesson. Potter wasn't like that. Something else must have happened after Snape had left the classroom.

Lupin shrugged and sat down on the couch. "He acted so weird."

"Because his behaviour is different than normal I am guilty of bullying him?"

"No. Harry said you didn't do anything wrong but I guess I just -"

"Thought he lied or that he was afraid to tell you the truth because I blackmailed him?" Snape stared into Lupin’s worried face feeling annoyed.

Lupin chose not to answer the question. "Why was he crying then?"

"Ah yes, I know everything about everyone," snapped Snape. "Maybe you should ask Mr. Potter himself."

"I tried, but he didn't want to talk and when I touched him he yelled at me." Lupin buried his head in his hands.

"Well this is not my problem." Snape hoped that his words would make Lupin understand that he was being dismissed.

"But he lived with you for a week. Didn’t you notice anything odd?"
Snape was about to say that he hadn't noticed anything odd, but that would be a lie. However, he didn't want to discuss the matter now. He wanted to continue reading his book so he could find a cure for the unicorn foal.

"Yes," admitted Snape finally. "Of course I don't know him as well as you do," Not that I want to, "but his arms are covered with scars and earlier I saw him sitting alone at the Gryffindor table. I noticed that he has finally learned to control his temper as well."

"Scars?" asked Lupin. He didn't seem to be to interested in the other things Snape had said. "What kind of scars?"

"From cuts."

"Cuts," repeated Lupin.

"Yes, the kind of wounds you get from a knife, glass -"

"Yes I know!" said Lupin annoyed. "I'm not stupid!"

Snape chose to keep his mouth shut.

"Any idea how he got them?"

Snape snorted. "As I said before, I don't know everything about everyone."

"Yes but don't you have an idea?"

"I have," said Snape carefully. His idea wasn't very comforting and he hoped he was wrong. "They could be self-inflicted."

Lupin just stared, which annoyed Snape utterly.
"Self-inflicted?" Lupins voice was a mere whisper. "How?"

"With a knife."

"How do you know?"

"I don't know for sure but I caught Potter playing with a knife a few months ago and when I took it for him but he attempted to steal it from my office."

"Oh Merlin! Why?"

"I'm not going to say it again," sneered Snape.

"We need to find out why," said Lupin determined.

"We? Why do you think I want to get involved in this mess?"

"Severus," Lupin looked him in the eye. "He spent a week with you, don't you think he will talk to you?"

"He won't," assured Snape.

"We can't let him destroy himself."

"For once in my life, I agree with you, wolf," said Snape though he didn't like it.

________________________________________________________

Harry lay on his side on his bed. His back was killing him and he was unable to lie on it. Even the water from the shower he had taken earlier didn't bring any relief. Silently he cursed Mad-Eye. The ex-auror was even worse than Snape.

Harry sighed and closed the curtains of his canopy bed, wanting to be left in peace if someone came into the dorm. Because it was Friday and there were no classes tomorrow, all the sixth years stayed up late, except for Harry who was exhausted. Mad-Eye had pushed him to his limits and the man seemed to have enjoyed it. For a moment Harry had thought to go to Dumbledore and tell him that Mad-Eye had tortured him, but the headmaster had personally chosen Mad-Eye to educate Harry. Harry knew Dumbledore wouldn't let any students suffer unless they deserved it.

Harry knew he deserved the sensation of invisible scorching daggers stabbing i his back because he was a failure. Mad-Eye had thought highly of him and assumed that he was capable of mastering very advanced, complicated and dangerous magic with the proper training. The ex-auror thought that Harry must have some uncommon skill in magic to be able to face He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named and survive. But when they started the extra lessons, Mad-Eye was enormously disappointed at Harry's skills.
Harry had tried so hard to please the ex-auror but he just wasn't able to master the curse, which Mad-Eye claimed, was a very easy spell, which could be mastered by a third year student. After more than an hour of practice with almost no progress, Mad-Eye had given up teaching the curse. Instead he disarmed Harry when he wasn't paying attention and the only way Harry was going to get his wand back, was by taking it from Mad-Eye himself.

While Harry tried to reach the ex-auror to overpower him and take back his wand, Mad-Eye tried to hit him with a variety of spells. In the beginning Harry managed to dodge most, but after twenty minutes he was getting tired and wasn't able to dodge as quickly. Forty minutes later Harry was lying on the ground after he had been hit by a spell, unable to find the strength to get back up. It was then that Mad-Eye used the curse on him that gave the sensation of a dozen scorching daggers stabbing into his back. Harry had bit on his lip, refusing to scream. Refusing to be weak. When the curse was lifted, his back kept aching. He ignored the pain, took a deep breath and got up again, continuing the exercise while Mad-Eye tried to be very creative with insults. After another half hour Mad-Eye was bored enough to end the lesson, saying that Harry wouldn't manage to survive two minutes without a wand or ten with his wand. Then Mad-Eye left, leaving Harry alone in the classroom.

Harry had never liked the man, but now he hated him. Mad-Eye was cruel and hard and so far, Harry hadn't learned a thing from the extra lessons. The lesson with Snape was horrible, but the one with Moody had been a total nightmare.

Harry yawned and stared at the curtains of his bed. He wanted to sleep, but was afraid to dream, to have those horrible nightmares. Why have they taken my potion away? Don't they want me to sleep? He had trouble concentrating in classes and had a hard time casting spells which had earned him loads of extra work from his concerned professors.Lupin had even asked him several times if everything was okay. If not, Lupin had assured him he would always listen, no matter what bothered Harry.
But Harry knew better than to spit everything out. If his uncle found out he would be punished and if the professors found out what he did to himself...
No. There is no way anyone can find out. They wouldn't understand. They would jusy think I'm weak. If I just could sleep well for just one night... He was sick of being tired all day long and he hated it that he was having so many problems in class. Harry assumed that his lack of sleep and his problems with casting spells was somehow connected. If he could ask Hermione, she would know but they hadn't talked since before the Christmas break.

Hermione occasionally shot him worried looks during classes as if she knew what had happened but she never spoke. Ron ignored him completely. It's better this way, Harry tried to assure himself. I can't get them hurt or worse, killed. He didn't like being alone the whole time, it reminded him of his time before Hogwarts when he wasn't allowed to have friends. Now he couldn't have friends because they would be an easy target for Voldemort. He had endangered his friends many times and twice someone had died: Sirius and Cedric.

Harry tried to swallow the bitterness and sorrow away. Why couldn't he be normal? Just for a little while. He wanted to have someone solve his problems for him, someone who would take care of him when he was ill. Madame Pomfrey took care of him when he was in the hospital wing, but it wasn't the same as how Ron’s mother and father took care of him. Harry would give everything for someone to care for him, to have a family. But he knew that wasn't going to happen. Sirius was gone and he wasn’t coming back. What other hope for a family did he have? He always tried to please his aunt and uncle so they would love him but they would say he wasn’t trying hard enough to be normal. His aunt and uncle said they tried to love him like they loved Dudley, but they couldn't because he wasn't normal. When he was around five years old, he had even begged the Dursleys to love him, to hug him and care for him, but they came up with the same excuse they always did: he wasn't normal so they couldn't love him.

Harry sat down in the empty common room at a table near the fire. The small table was covered with books, parchment and an almost empty bottle of ink. Around 3 o'clock Harry had woken up from a nightmare full of accusing voices of his professors, friends and the people who he had gotten killed: his parents, Sirius and Cedric. Now it was three hours later and he was writing down the conclusion of his Potion essay. It was almost twice as long as required but he still hadn’t managed to include all the information he had found about the most common antidotes, cures and how to brew them. Normally Harry wouldn't put so much effort into his school work, but it took his mind off his problems and worries. He carefully rolled up the parchment that contained his essay and put it in his bag. He still had a lot of work to do: an essay for Charms and Transfiguration and he needed to practise a lot of spells he had learned in the last lessons. He decided to write the Charms essay about spells that conjured elements like water, fire, wind and earth.

After an hour working on his charms essay, Harry heard someone coming down to the common room. He tried to ignore whoever it was and concentrated on the parchment in front of him. The footsteps came closer and still Harry didn't look up.

"Harry," said a familiar voice.

Harry sighed and slowly looked up. Not far from his table stood Hermione with a letter clutched in her hand. Harry nodded curtly and looked back down on his work.

"Why are you up so early?"

"I could ask the same," mumbled Harry without looking up.

"It's my mother's birthday and I'm sending her a letter," explained Hermione. "So I am on my way to the owlery."

"Great," answered Harry.

There was a tense silence between them. The only sounds came from Harry's quill, the rustle of paper when Harry looked something up in a book and the crackling of the fire. Harry wondered why Hermione didn't move, after all she was going to the owlery. After at least five minutes of silence, Hermione spoke again: "Maybe you could accompany me?"

Harry looked up; he was surprised by Hermione's request. They hadn't talked for weeks and now, suddenly she wanted him to keep her company.
"I'm a bit busy," said Harry as he pointed at the books in front of him.

"You look tired Harry. Why don't you take a break?"

"I'm fine."

"You're not," said Hermione, her voice filled with concern. "Hedwig would love to see you."

Harry hadn't seen Hedwig for several weeks, since she had stayed at the castle while he was at the Dursley’s during the winter holidays. Maybe he should go with Hermione and visit Hedwig."Fine." Harry got up, closed his books and tossed them in his back. He didn't miss the small smile that appeared on Hermione's face. They left the common room and walked silently through the deserted castle corridors.

Hermione broke the silence after several minutes. "Are you okay, Harry?"

"I'm great," lied Harry even thought he knew that Hermione wouldn't believe him.

"Of course you are," replied Hermione, rolling her eyes. She knew Harry well enough to know that he was lying. He always said he was fine when he wasn't. "That's why you look so pale and you have enormous bags underneath your eyes."

Harry shot her an angry glare, but decided to stay silent. Whatever Hermione said, he wasn't going to tell her the truth. No one could know how weak he was. If they found out, they would all laugh at him and this picture would be on the first page of the Daily Prophet like last year.

"How was your holiday?" asked Hermione suddenly.

"Fine." It had become Harry's standard answer.

"Mine was great. I went to the Alps with Ron and my parents. Skiing was so much fun! You should have seen Ron, he was really bad at it."

"Sounds like fun." He tried to sound interested, but he failed. Hermione’sparents had taken her on vacation many times and he had only ever been to a small island to escape his Hogwarts letters. Even Ron, whose parents couldn't afford to go on vacation a lot, had taken their children to Egypt. Harry never cared much about trips to foreign countries, but he was jealous nonetheless. He didn't understand why people like Ron were so jealous of him, when he had nothing but false fame. Fame that was pushed upon him. If it was possible, he wouldn't hesitate for a second to exchange his life with Ron’s.

"What did you do during the holidays?" asked Hermione.

Harry had the feeling she was trying to find out what was wrong with him and he knew she wouldn't give up easily. "Not much. The usual stuff."

"And that is?"

"Helping around the house so I wouldn’t be bored the whole time," mumbled Harry, trying not to get annoyed or angry.

"I had this wonderful Christmas dinner." Hermione told in length about the Christmas dinner she had eaten and concluded her story with the expected: "What did you eat?"

Harry hadn't eaten anything on Christmas but chose to lie instead. "Turkey and now stop asking these questions. I know what you're trying to do."

"Harry, I'm concerned."

"Don't," said Harry angry. "I'm old enough to take care of myself."

"Why won't you talk to us?" pleaded Hermione.

"There's nothing to talk about!"

"There is! You're always sitting by yourself, trying to stay away from everyone and you always go to bed early but in the morning, you're always so tired."

Harry had no idea Hermione was watching him so closely. He had to be more careful otherwise there was a big chance she would find out one of his secrets.

"And Professor Lupin is worried as well."

"I said don't!" Harry couldn't control his anger any more. Why did they care? They weren't around when he needed them. No one was and then suddenly they were all over the place. He just wanted to be left alone. He wanted to fall into a dreamless sleep that lasted forever.

"Why won't you let us in? Why won't you let us help you?"

"Because," said Harry, almost yelling. His voice sounded deafening in the still sleeping castle and he was sure he would wake it up but didn't care. "You were never there when I needed you!" For a moment he looked at Hermione who looked like she was going to burst in tears. Then Harry turned around and walked away, longing to be one his own. Longing to make the pain go away.

__________________________________________________________

Normally Lupin didn't sit in his office so early on the weekend, but his body ached too much to sleep after the full moon last night. Planning the upcoming lessons distracted his thoughts from his condition. He was browsing through a very old, thick, leather bound book when someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," said Lupin surprised. It was too early for visitors.

The door opened slowly and Hermione stepped into the office. "Good morning."

"Good morning Hermione, to what do I owe such an early visit." Lupin pointed at the chair in front of his desk, inviting Hermione to sit down.

When Hermione sat, she took a deep breath and started talking. "You know that we, Ron and I, had an argument with Harry, no?"

Lupin nodded. He had a suspicion about what this conversation was about, but he remained silent, allowing the young Gryffindor to tell her story.

"We haven't talked since before the Christmas break and when he came back to stay in the Gryffindor tower we didn't talk either. I don't think he knows that you've told us about what happened," said Hermione seriously. "I kept an eye on him for the last week and he has changed."

"Yes," agreed Lupin. "I noticed it as well." He decided not to tell Hermione about the time had found Harry after his lesson with Professor Snape.

"He is always sitting in the back of the class as if he hopes that no one would notice him. If he doesn't skip dinner he sits at the end of the table all by himself. He always goes to bed early but in the morning he looks very tired and he has a lot of trouble in classes," said Hermione worried. "At the start of the year he acted a bit odd as well but I thought it was because he had to get used to Ron and me being a couple."

"I didn't notice that." Lupin was troubled. Was Hermione right? Did Harry act oddly at the beginning of the year too? He tried to recall, but couldn't think of anything odd.

"Only Ron and I did, I think."

"Have you any idea what might be going on?" asked Lupin.

"At first I thought it might be Sirius but now I don't." Hermione sighed before continuing. "I don't believe the story of the fight."

"I doubt it's true," said Lupin. He was afraid that in some way Harry's condition two days ago and the cuts on his arm were related but chose not to worry Hermione even more.

"Why won't he tell us what really happened? Can't we use Veritaserum on the Dursleys?"
Lupin couldn't help but smile at Hermione's suggestion. It wasn't like her to be so desperate. "I don't think that's a good idea, or not for now. Keep an eye on Harry if you can and I'll try to talk to him."

Hermione nodded. "I really think we need to find out what's going before something bad happens."