Harry kept his eyes shut.

He didn't need to look to know what his friends were seeing. He had every scar memorized, every line, like the secret passageways on the Marauder's Map. He didn't need to look to know that Hermione's eyes were probably tearing up, and that Ron's face would be etched with confusion.

He didn't need to look... and he didn't want to.

It wasn't until he felt Hermione's soft palms around his forearm that he dared open his eyes once more. His assumptions were correct; Hermione's eyes were wet with sadness as she turned his arm slowly and gently, staring knowingly at each and every apparant line. Harry looked down at his feet. He had been prepared for the confusion and hurt, but not the shame.

"How long?" asked Hermione quietly. Harry kept his eyes glued to the floor.

"Since the summer."

"Summer? You've been... you've been doing this all term and we didn't... we haven't... oh, Harry..." Hermione trailed, dropping his arm and embracing him tightly. Harry, prepared this time, allowed himself to return the hug.

"What are you talking about? What the hell happened to your arm, Harry?" asked Ron, speaking up for the first time. "What do you mean he's been 'doing this al-'"

Ron's sentence stopped abruptly as realization hit. His eyes widened and the color drained from his face. As Hermione released Harry, Ron slid off the bunk and approached them slowly. His eyes darted awkwardly from Harry's arm to his face, his jaw locked open in shock.

"Why wouldn't you tell us about this, Harry? We would have been there for you! Don't you know how much we care about you?" exclaimed Hermione. It was hard to tell whether she was asking or accusing.

"I'm really sorry, Hermione, I just couldn't..."

"I understand if you felt you couldn't talk to us about this, I just wish we could've been there for you," said Hermione quietly. She looked hurt and slightly offended.

The feelings of guilt were overwhelming. He took Hermione's hands in his. "I'm so sorry I kept this from you. I trust you guys more than anything, I just wasn't ready to talk about it yet. I hope you can understand that," he said softly.

Hermione's expression softened slightly. "Of course we can. I'm sorry, that came out all wrong. I'm glad you told us."

Harry gave her a slight smile.

"I-I don't understand," Ron said finally. "Why would you..."

"I think you two have a bit of talking to do. I'm going to go... change," said Hermione, her voice breaking slightly. She approached the door slowly, taking time to wipe her eyes accordingly. "Harry, please be safe," she added in a weak voice before exiting.

"What's her deal?" asked Ron, his voice dripping with false confidence.

"I don't think she wanted to break down in front of us," responded Harry, staring at the door she'd just shut. He tried to repress the immense amount of guilt flooding through his thoughts. Though he was slightly upset that she'd left so abruptly, he knew he could have a reasonable conversation with Hermione later. Hermione, distraught as she was, could never miss an opportunity to be clever. She'd left so that Ron and Harry could talk alone.

Hermione must have known that Ron would be less likely to understand. Harry wasn't even sure if this was an existing issue in the wizarding world at all. And, of course, she'd been right. The look on Ron's face as he tried to avoid staring at Harry's arm was full of confusion. They sat in silence for a moment as Harry contemplated a conversation starter, but he was saved this initiative as Ron finally spoke up.

"So... so you did this to yourself," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "On purpose?"

Harry nodded. Ron's eyes flickered to Harry's exposed arm.

In all of Harry's history with Ron, he had never seen him this shocked. Not when Harry had told him the tale of facing Voldemort for the first time, not when he'd seen Sirius Black in the Shreiking Shack, not even when Voldemort had officially returned after the Triwizard Tournament...

But, then again, this was something different entirely.

"Why would you do that to yourself?"

The question had come more confidently than it had the first time. Harry was starting to become used to this question, but it didn't make answering any easier. He allowed himself to collect his thoughts before answering.

"It kind of helped me control my emotion. It was a way of dealing with everything that allowed me to keep functioning normally."

"That doesn't look normal to me," objected Ron, his eyes no longer subtle as he stared openly at Harry's scars.

Harry wasn't exactly sure how to respond to this, so he brought down the sleeve of his robe instead, leaving Ron with nothing to stare at. He looked at Harry.

"So you aren't going to keep doing this, right? I mean, you can't keep doing this..."

"I know, Ron, and Snape's been trying to-"

"SNAPE?"

"I know it sounds crazy-"

"It sounds bloody insane, it does! That's why you guys have been so weird lately, isn't it? That's where you've been! He's punishing you for this, he's locking you up-"

"He's HELPING me, Ron," interjected Harry, suddenly feeling incredibly defensive of his potions professor. Earlier, he might have agreed with Ron's accusation. Locked up, punished... and he couldn't blame Ron for thinking that way. But something had made him trust the man recently. Perhaps it was because of the hangover potion. Or perhaps it was because right now, Harry felt he'd rather be talking to Snape about this than anyone else.

"You trust him? After everything he's done, the damn git... you're talking to HIM, of all people..."

And suddenly, Harry understood. Ron was jealous. Upset that he'd been confiding in the enemy, upset that he hadn't come to his best friends first. And he couldn't argue with that. After all, had the situation been reversed, Harry was sure he'd react similarly. Still, he desperately wanted Ron to understand that Snape was no longer the enemy. That Snape had brought him to do something he hadn't thought possible... to talk. And that was a feat that not even Dumbledore himself could have acheived.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys. I really am. But honestly, I wasn't ready to tell anybody. Snape's been helping me talk about it more. I didn't even want to talk to him at first, but I was kind of forced to..."

And then Harry couldn't stop. He'd been hiding from his friends for so long, he'd almost forgotten how to tell a full story. But out came the timeline... being caught by Dumbledore in the hall, being forced to ask Snape for the potion. He cringed but continued as he explained the severe awkwardness and shame he felt as Snape cleaned his wounds. He explained his inability to hug Hermione back, and how much it had hurt him to see her cry. Ron sat patiently and listened to every word; he even smiled and gasped when Harry admitted how much Firewhiskey he'd finished off, and then frowned again when Harry explained what had brought him to drink.

When Harry finally finished, Ron stared at him, his expression unreadable.

"I'm sorry, mate. I shouldn't have been so shitty to you. I had no idea..."

"That's okay, Ron, I would have been frustrated too," Harry quickly admitted.

"So I suppose you're going back there tonight, then?"

"Yeah, I suppose I am," responded Harry. "But I think this means we can start having meals together again," he added once he saw Ron's disappointment.

"Yeah, I guess so," said Ron. Then- "I still don't get it, Harry, and I don't understand why you have to stay with Snape. I don't trust him. But, if it means you'll stop... stop doing that..."

That had been the confirmation Harry needed. No hugs and tears were necessary with Ron. This type of submission was understood as an expression of caring, and Harry deeply appreciated it. They walked to the portrait hole in silence, but it was not awkward. It was nice to have his best mate at his side again, however ashamed and weak Harry felt.

Ron patted Harry on the back before heading toward the dormitory. Harry watched him walk upstairs before turning around and making his way back to the dungeons.

"I almost did it again," admitted Harry, sitting in his usual arrangement across from Snape. Somehow, after confessing to Ron and Hermione, talking to Snape had seemed far less difficult. He'd chosen to discuss the hardest part first, figuring the rest would come easier.

"You went straight to your dormitory to hurt yourself?"

"I went straight to Ron and Hermione, but they ignored me," explained Harry. Snape's face revealed a flicker of disapproval before falling back into its usual expressionless stare.

"And then?"

"And then I felt really frustrated, like they didn't care. So I ran upstairs and searched."

"How far did you allow yourself to continue?"

"I broke another razor again, with... well, the same way I did last time. And then I was going to do it. But I saw the plastic bits all over the floor, and I remembered what you said about being out of control, and I... I stopped."

If Snape had ever allowed his face to show a positive emotion for longer than five seconds, it would've been news to Harry. This, however, was a first: Snape appeared content... slightly proud, even. His mouth was turned into a slight grin, which, in Snape's case, was like a full-toothed smile. He allowed himself to keep this expression as he spoke.

"I won't pretend I'm not surprised, Harry," said Snape. "I have recognized more progress in that last statement than I have in the past two weeks."

"T-Thanks, sir," stammered Harry. He was not used to hearing his first name and a compliment from Snape in the same sentence. Then, without thinking, he asked, "Do you think that means I'm better?"

"Do you?"

Harry figured he ought to have expected the return question. He thought about it for a moment. He'd allowed himself to break the razor in another fit of desperation. Would he allow himself to go that far again? Would he allow himself to go further?

"I'm not sure."

"I believe that answers your question," said Snape. "What did you do after you abandoned your mutilation attempt?"

"I went back downstairs and confronted them. I told them I needed to talk to them, and I brought them upstairs. I showed them my scars."

"How did they react?"

"Hermione was pretty upset. She was crying, but she knew what it was at once. Ron, well..." Harry allowed himself to recall Ron's horrified expression and jealous words. The pangs of guilt returned. He'd wanted so badly to keep them safe, he hadn't anticipated how much more pain hiding the truth would cause. "Ron was confused, and I think he was jealous."

"Jealous?"

"Upset that I didn't come to them first. But I told him everything. And I think he gets why I have to stay here."

Snape paused for a moment. "You believe he understands why you have to remain in the dungeons," he repeated, tracing his jaw with this index finger. "So you are admitting that a legitimate reason exists?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Because I... I know I can't stop on my own yet. Because I don't want to, not fully. And I need to be accountable to somebody."

"I couldn't have worded it better myself."

"Yes you could," said Harry, and mimicked Snape's stone cold stare. "I am aware of my inability to cease this behavior without mentorship," he mocked in Snape's nasally tone. "I am unable to conduct proper behavior in isolation. I am currently incapable of holding myself accountable for my actions." Harry froze. What was he doing? Talking to Snape like a therapist? Mocking him like a friend? Feeling comfortable doing it?

To Harry's great surprise, Snape turned up a corner of his mouth in amusement. "Yeah, I... um, well... guess that sounds good and all," he responded, performing Harry's pauses immaculately.

The two stared at each other intently, keeping silent, trying to register the unusual friendly banter they'd just shared. Then, without warning, Harry burst out laughing.

And then even Snape, careful as he was to maintain his decorum, smiled.

Just a few more days until the start of term. Perhaps things wouldn't be so bad after all. He'd finally told his friends what he'd been too scared to admit all term. He had a small group of people that would be there for him. Maybe he'd even visit Myrtle.

He didn't bother to ask Snape how much longer he'd have to stay in the dungeons. For now, this was where he needed to be. After spending so much time saving the world, Harry needed to focus on saving himself. Snape was not Sirius, and would never be, but somehow, having a new mentor on his side made all the difference in the world.

Possibly, he could move on from this. Accept the help that would undoubtedly be offered.

Possibly, he could learn to feel again. Learn to live again.

And maybe, just maybe, he'd even try at Potions this time.