Chapter Nine

Harry closed his eyes, but said nothing. He had been hoping that he would have more time before his past came out into the open. Now, Harry only faced the problem of how much he should reveal.

"Where do I start?" Harry whispered.

"At three years of age, the burn on your hand" Professor Snape answered.

"That was the first," Harry muttered. "I had only just started my daily chores threes day before. Really, what kind of person leaves a three year old to cook? Anyway, Aunt Petunia had broken her arm when Dudley knocked her down the stairs. Of course, he blamed me, but I was outside pulling weeds. Uncle Vernon can't cook and doesn't like take-out, so little three year old Harry had to fix the food. Dudley complained that I burnt his food, Uncle Vernon walked over, turned the burner on, and then forced my hand onto it."

Harry shuddered; he could still remember the smell of his burning flesh and the pain. With a deep breath, Harry continued.

"He never did that again. The kitchen reeked for days and I learned pretty quickly how to cook. After that, whenever Dudley would complain of burnt food I would get a beating and was forbidden food, sometimes...Anyway, that explains nearly all of my injuries…up to age nine" Harry muttered, "Next?"

"So, broken bones, bruises were punishment?" Professor Snape asked.

"Not all of them, Dudley liked to beat me up as well. Uncle Vernon started to blame me for anything bad that happened, so it was almost every other day." Harry muttered, glaring out the window "When is astrology?"

"You're not going" Professor Snape replied, "Your classmates will take notes and give you your homework."

Harry grumbled under his breath when the door to the hospital wing opened and Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall walked in.

"Harry, my boy" Dumbledore said grinning.

"I'm not your boy!" Harry hissed. "I haven't been, since you abandoned me on the doorstep of the Dursleys."

"The wards..." Dumbledore started.

"Don't exist" Harry snapped, "Otherwise, you would have noticed that I hadn't been there for three years."

"What?" Dumbledore whispered.

"I'm not telling you anymore" Harry growled, "I don't have to, leave me alone, Dumbledore. I'll tell Professor McGonagall what happened."

Dumbledore opened his mouth, but stopped at the look he was receiving from the other two professors. Then, with as much dignity the headmaster could have, he turned and left the hospital wing.

"It was several Gryffindors" Harry muttered, "Is that all you needed, professor?"

"Do you know their names?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"I only know Weasley, Ron Weasley." Harry muttered "the other two were older than him, taller and faster, I don't know them."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter" Professor McGonagall replied stern-faced.

"Professor, how did you know I hadn't met with Hagrid?" Harry asked, leaning back on the pillow.

"The headmaster organized it" Professor McGonagall replied, "When Hagrid told me that the Dursleys were not home, I sent you that letter."

"But the tone in your letter, sounded like you were blaming me for not meeting a man I'd never meet before. Besides, I'm not an idiot, even if I had been there, I would never have gone with some strange man...And, the fact that I did know Hagrid once doesn't mean anything." Harry ranted, "Plus there was no warning to this letter, I had no idea that I was expected to be at the Dursleys. There was no letter or even a call to let me know that Hagrid was coming"

A sudden hand on his arm made his rant come to a complete stop, by glancing at the hand before the face of Professor Snape, who simply shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, I did not think of that when I wrote to you." Professor McGonagall whispered. Now that she was thinking about it, the whole plan seemed a bit fishy.

Harry gave a stiff nod, so Dumbledore was up to something, perhaps he should keep the old man around until he worked out what.

"Can I go back to the dormitory?" Harry asked.

"And do what?" Professor Snape demanded.

"I was going to say read" Harry muttered, "But, I'm guessing that's out of the question."

"You, Mr. Potter, can spend the night here." Professor Snape decided. "Next time you're hurt, perhaps you'll think twice about not saying anything. You are not to leave until I come collect you tomorrow after breakfast."

"What? But..." Harry stammered, watching the two professors leave.

"Well, what the hell am I going to do to Weasley?" Harry whispered.

"Oi, Potter, wake up!" a male voice hissed.

Harry blinked into the dull light that now lit the darkened hospital wing. Turning his head, he met the eyes of the Weasley twins.

"Lovely way to wake up…" Harry muttered, sitting up, "What?"

"Look, we overheard our brother and two boys in seventh year bragging of why they attacked you, and we wanted to say sorry" Fred muttered.

"Yeah, you weren't meant to get hurt" George added.

"The drink?" Harry supplied, "That hurt Crabbe?"

"Wasn't us." Fred and George said together.

"Then, who?" Harry demanded.

"Well, there are a lot of people that are angry at you for being in Slytherin." Fred pointed out.

Harry nodded, thinking quietly to himself. He had no idea who would have done it, but perhaps he could work it out later.

"A warning, I'm going to get my revenge on those three" Harry warned, leaning back.

"Oh, we agree, Ron was being a git" Fred and George nodded.

"Good to know" Harry muttered, "By the way, I'd say we're even now, but I don't 'do' even."

"Neither do we." The twins agreed, smirking.

"Good night" Harry replied with his own smirk.

Harry sank back into the bed. Now, all he had to do was think up a good way to get the twins back.

Harry paced the hospital wing in announce, he had eaten the bland and lumpy porridge, mainly because he hadn't eaten since breakfast the day before…a slight oversight on the mediwitch's part, who hadn't suggested food after he had missed dinner.

The real reason behind his annoyance was because he was still in the hospital wing. He had woken up at six am, like a normal morning without a nightmare, and then he had to wait until half an hour ago for food, which was quite late for his routine. It also meant that he would have to use his gym at lunch, instead of straight after getting up.

"Mr. Potter, what are you doing?" Professor Snape demanded.

"You only told me to stay in the hospital wing…you never say I had to stay in bed, Professor." Harry replied.

"I will take you to your class. Mr. Malfoy has your books" Professor Snape informed him, "Oh, and Potter, detention for your cheek."

"Yes, Professor Snape" Harry sighed.

Harry had been the first to change his matchstick into a needle. He then spent the rest of the lesson working on timing spells, ones that would delay a spell placed on the object after casting. He had nearly perfected it by the end of class.

"So, how are you feeling?" Alex asked, as they walked towards Defense Against the Dark Arts

"Good" Harry muttered, raising his eyebrows.

"Don't look at me like that…you were out for nearly four hours!" Alex muttered.

"And Madam Pomfrey can mend cuts in a heartbeat" Harry answered with a shrug.

"How do you know that?" Nott asked.

"My father said it when Sirius was hurt at one point" Harry said with a shrug.

"Don't you hate him?" Draco asked.

"My father or Sirius?" Harry replied, cocking his head to the side.

"Black" Zabini answered, speaking for the first time that afternoon.

"Why would I?" Harry asked, stopping in front of the classroom door.

"We'll tell you later" Draco promised.

"Fine" Harry sighed, "Draco, don't let me forget, that I was going to write to your father."

"You forget" Draco said smiling, "Surely hell has frozen."

"Shut up" Harry growled, a tiny smile on his lips

"You may come in" Professor Quirrell said while opening the door.

Harry resisted the urge to step back as a small sharp pain stabbed into his scar. Harry passed Professor Quirrell and chose a seat at the very back of the stuffy room. Harry frowned at his book, 'something wasn't right, why would my scar start hurting when I get close to Quirrell, and why the garlic? Did he have no trust that the wards around Hogwarts would keep vampires off the grounds, or perhaps, Quirrell is using it to cover a smell?'

"Mr. P...P...Potter" stuttered Professor Quirrell, "An...a..Answer?"

"Sorry, Professor, I didn't hear the question" Harry admitted.

"W...well...Mr. P...P..Potter," Professor Quirrell said "Y...you will have to wr..write an essay on sh..shields, during your own t..t..time"

"Yes, sir" Harry sighed.

"The simplest shield?" Professor Quirrell asked.

"Protego" Harry whispered, frowning slightly.

"So, you can listen" Professor Quirrell muttered, causing Harry's frown to deepen "Read chapters four to five, if you haven't read the first three I suggest you do so."

Harry opened his textbook, after a few moments, a piece of parchment was slipped onto his book.

What happened to his stutter?

Harry glanced towards Alex, who was pretending to read. Harry scribbled a quick reply and passed it back.

I don't know, but I don't trust him.

Neither do I. Alex replied.

Something's going on and I will find out what. Harry wrote

"M...Mr. P...Potter, I...I h...ope t...that, you are ta...taking notes" Professor Quirrell stuttered.

"Of course, sir" Harry whispered, sliding the parchment into his book.

Harry was glad when lunch came, it meant he could escape the corridors and go to his gym.

"Hey, Harry" Alex called.

"Yep" Harry muttered, looking behind him.

"I'm starving, aren't you?" Alex asked when he caught up.

"No, I'm going to work out" Harry said with a shrug. "I've really slacked off lately, yesterday proved it to me."

"Can I come? Snape doesn't want us to leave you alone, after what happened yesterday." Alex informed him.

"You said you were hungry, go eat" Harry replied shortly, "Besides, I'm not sure how to let anyone into my trunk."

"Into your trunk?" Alex repeated.

"Yes, now, you have lunch and I'll go work out" Harry replied, slipping into the dungeons.

Harry worked out very quickly. He knew he couldn't go straight back to his normal routine—of running on the treadmill, doing jumping jacks, pushups, sit ups, and then working on his kick boxing, which Harry cursed himself for not using yesterday. Harry didn't even have the breath to do the warm down with his weapons; honestly, he would have to get back into shape.

Harry was glad that his lesson after lunch was a free and the last lesson remained a free, for this year anyway.

After Harry had showered, he sat in front of his fire; at least he could work on the essay that Professor Quirrell had given him. He would write the essay now and speak to Draco about Sirius later.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter." Professor Snape said, opening his office door.

"Good evening, sir" Harry replied.

"Mr. Potter, for your detention you are to write 'I must watch my cheek', two hundred times" Professor Snape told him, pointing to some parchment on the desk.

"Yes, sir" Harry muttered and sat down to begin.

Nearly an hour later, Harry had finished the lines. Now, all he had to do was write a letter about the vote and ask how much control he actually had over the castle. And then, find out why he should hate Sirius.

"Professor, I have finished" Harry said to get the professor's attention.

"Very well, Mr. Potter" Professor Snape said, holding out his hand for the parchment. "You may leave."

Harry walked quickly out of the office and towards the common room.

"I need to know." Harry said, sinking into a chair.

"Well, Harry, you see...Black betrayed you" Draco said softly, looking at Nott and Zabini for help.

Harry had always thought of Sirius turning his back on him as a betrayal, but he knew that wasn't what they had meant.

"How?" Harry demanded.

"Black sold you out to the dark lord" Alex whispered.

Harry opened his mouth, only to close it again, he had no idea what to say. He knew that Pettigrew sold his family out to Voldemort, but then again perhaps he was wrong, perhaps Black had betrayed him.