It was only a week until he would be back on the train to Hogwarts for his third year. Only a week. Harry knew from experience to be extra good this week so his Uncle wouldn’t leave any visible marks. He still had the accumulation of marks from the past several weeks but was lucky that none of them were visible. He could do this. He had been sent back home after blowing up Aunt Marge and things had gone downhill from there.

“BOY!”

Harry’s head popped up from where he was weeding the back garden. He ran inside to where his aunt stood just inside the front door. “Yes Aunt Petunia?”

“Start fixing dinner, your uncle will be home shortly and I want it on the table.”

Harry nodded and headed towards the kitchen. I can do this, he thought. He knew he couldn’t afford any more open belt wounds or worse. He just had to make it to the train.

——————————-

The week went by as smoothly as it could with the Dursleys. Harry managed to scrape by pretending he didn’t exist and avoid all encounters possible with his relatives. Soon enough Harry found himself avoiding rumors of him fainting on the train and becoming immersed in classes. He was surprised that Dumbledore seemed to actually hire a decent defense professor this year and he found himself enjoying classes more simply to avoid other thoughts running through his head. He found himself losing sleep from nightmares of the events of the summer and that haunting scream he heard on the train with the dementors more nights than not.

It was on a rare occasion of peaceful sleep about a week into classes that he found himself waking up later than normal. Sitting up in his bed he grabbed his glasses and wand casting a quick Tempus. With a groan he realized he only had about ten minutes before his dorm mates started waking up. Even in his first year he was known to wake and shower before everyone else even got up. He always used the excuse that he was an early bird but in reality he didn’t want anyone seeing his scars.

Hurriedly he grabbed his school robes and headed towards the bathroom, unaware of a stirring Ron. Harry showered quickly, wincing at the pain it caused to his injuries, and was just grabbing his shirt to finish dressing. He didn’t hear the door open behind him.

“Harry?”

Harry froze for a split second before his brain started running double time. He pulled his shirt on and held it closed in the front before turning around. Putting on his most neutral expression he met Ron’s gaze.

“Hey, wake up early?”

Ron just stared at him with wide eyes full of shock and concern. Harry knew he still had open wounds and bruising on his back and all he could do was hold his shirt closed so Ron wouldn’t see his chest as well.

“Harry what happened to your back?” Ron asked, narrowing his eyes in concern.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Ron.” Harry said, his internal dialogue playing a repeat of deny deny deny.

Ron shook his head. “Harry I saw just now, you’re hurt.”

Harry’s heart was racing. He had always managed to hide himself. No one had ever seen or suspected. Even Quidditch injuries happened after his body had a chance to heal from the events of the summer so the few residual scars could be explained away as accidents. But this? He didn’t know how to get out of this one so easily.

Sighing, he put on his best unconcerned and reassuring face. “Ron it’s fine really, it’s nothing.”

Ron continued to stare at him with that concerned expression, further confirming to Harry that he wasn’t getting out of this one with passing denial.

“Harry really that’s not nothing. What happened to you? Why haven’t you gone to Madam Pomphrey?”

“I don’t need to go to Madam Pomphrey, it was an accident really. It’s not a big deal. Leave it. Please?” He put on his best pleading face hoping Ron would drop it.

Ron sent him an appraising look, noticing Harry looked extremely uncomfortable with the subject he decided to drop it for now, but only until breakfast where he could get Herioine to knock some sense into Harry and hopefully get him to the hospital wing. Shaking his head slightly he conceded, “Ok, but this discussion isn’t over.”

Harry let out a shaky breath as Ron turned towards the sinks. He quickly buttoned up his shirt and did his tie, fleeing the room. He didn’t even wait in the common room like he usually would for Ron and Hermione to walk to breakfast, instead fleeing as fast as he could towards the main doors. He needed some air and to think.

Reaching the doors he hurried through them, pacing in circles just out of sight of anyone passing by towards the Great Hall. Running his hands through his hair he did everything he could to calm himself down and prepare to play it off as not a big deal. Inside however was complete panic.

———————————

Making his way inside a good twenty minutes later, Harry took a breath before entering the Great Hall. As soon as he entered he saw Ron and Hermione just sitting down, huddled in serious conversation. Harry groaned internally. Of course Ron had to tell Hermione. Now what am I going to do?

Walking over to the table he quietly sat down across from his friends. Hermione was the first to meet his gaze.

“Harry are you hurt?” She asked, reaching her hands out towards him on the table.

Harry grabbed the closest food item and sent a gesture of waving off the question. He really hoped to come across as nonchalant. “I’m fine Hermione, really. Ron’s exaggerating.” He sent a glare towards Ron.

Hermione didn’t look convinced. “Harry you know you can talk to us right? Were you’re friends,” she said gesturing between Ron and herself, “We just want to help. We won’t judge you.”

“There’s really nothing to talk about. And what do you think there would be to judge? Really. It’s no big deal can we just drop it?” Harry said holding back his frustration.

“Harry, mate, what I saw wasn’t some small injury. We’re just worried. We just want to help! Would you go to Madam Pomphrey at least?” Ron said with clear rising concern in his voice.

Harry could hear his heart in his ears. He knew he didn’t have an excuse that either of them would buy and he knew they weren’t going to drop this. “It’s really not a big deal and I don’t appreciate being interrogated.” He grabbed a biscuit off the table and speed walked out of the hall, not up for more conversation with his friends at the moment.

As he made it out the doors he stopped at an alcove, leaning against the wall to take a few deep breaths. He had to get them to drop it but he didn’t know how so for now, that meant avoiding them.

After a few moments to calm down he realized he didn’t even have his bag for class. Dreading double potions this morning he reluctantly made his way back up to his dorm to get his things.