Thank you to everyone who reviewed! It means a lot! Hope you enjoy the next installment.

111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Darkness. That was the first thing Harry saw when he opened his eyes. God, I'm blind, he thought in horror. He moved his head around, straining to see anything, and began to panic; feeling like the darkness was suffocating him. Quickly, he shot up and immediately laid back down, feeling pain tear through his back. Bad idea, Harry thought. He took a couple of deep breaths, and winced at the pain. After he felt some semblance of calm, Harry realized that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness. Harry looked around, seeing the blurry outlines of objects around him. He glanced down and saw the blanket that covered him to mid chest. As his panic receded, he began to wonder where he was. He felt vulnerable not knowing his location and that feeling doubled tenfold when he realized that he didn't have his wand. Harry knew he wasn't at the Dursley's because of the blanket that covered him. His scar wasn't hurting, so he knew that Voldemort wasn't near him. Where could he be, Harry thought. The teen groped around for his glasses and found them on the nightstand next to him. He put them on and immediately knew where he was.

Hogwarts.

Along with the feeling of great relief of knowing where he was, came the feeling of total and utter dismay. They know, they know, they know, was the mantra chanting through his head. Harry felt miserable. He had always done so well at hiding the abuse. Now everybody knows. Harry wanted to curl up and hide.

He was supposed to be the savior of the wizarding world. He couldn't even defend himself against a stupid Muggle! And now they know. They know how pathetic he is. They know how filthy he is. They know. With that last thought, he fell into an uneasy sleep.

111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Throughout the whole day, Harry heard people coming and going from the Infirmary to see how he was doing. First, it was Remus and the Headmaster.

"Harry, I should have known," the werewolf kept saying over and over. Harry could hear Lupin beginning to cry and he grabbed his hand. "We failed you, Harry. We failed you. I'm sorry. I should have known."

Harry had heard this from so many people by now, he was burning with guilt. It felt like his insides were trying to crawl out of him. He had a lump in his throat that never went away. And what added to his guilt was the fact that he was faking sleep so he didn't have to talk to anyone. He felt horrible. It wasn't their fault, it was his. He was the one that earned the abuse; he was the one who didn't tell them. He was at fault. He always caused problems. He should have hid it better; he should have…done something else, anything else.

"Come on Remus, we'll have some tea in my office," the Headmaster said quietly and he led the distraught werewolf out of the Infirmary.

When Harry heard the door close, he turned on his side, away from Madame Promfrey's office, and began to cry. He was horrible person. A freak. He didn't deserve anyone caring about him. He didn't deserve their kindness, their concern. No one should feel guilty but him. He continued down this line of thought for a while more before he fell asleep thinking about the dark abyss, otherwise known as his life.

When Harry awoke, he heard the sounds of the Weasley clan. Harry felt another stab of guilt run through him. He put this whole family in grief. They were the only ones who treated him like family, and this was how he repaid them- by adding to their stress load with his petty problems with the Dursleys. The guilt was suffocating him, choking him, until nothing was left, but a giant hole in his chest. I deserve this, he thought fiercely. I deserve everything I get for putting everyone through hell. But still, he remained asleep.

Harry could imagine Molly and Arthur hugging each other, while he heard them say the same thing that everyone else was saying, "Why didn't they see it? I'm sorry." He wanted to scream at them, "It's not your fault! It's mine!" But still, he remained asleep.

Harry could hear Ginny sobbing while Hermione was trying to console her, saying nonsense like 'It's going to be okay' and 'He'll make it through'. It'll never be okay and I doubt I'll ever make it through this, Harry thought cynically. He couldn't hear Ron saying anything, but he knew he was there. And it meant the world to him that Ron and all of the Weasleys were here, even though they didn't have to be. Harry knew that they should hate his guts, be disgusted with him, and never want to see him again, but they were here. And Harry was thanking them by faking sleep. Even with this thought, he still remained asleep.

Harry heard Madame Pomfrey usher them out while lecturing sternly, "Mr. Potter needs his rest."

The Infirmary door closed and the nursemaid went back to her office. Harry tried to swallow the ever-present lump in his throat that was only growing larger as the day went on.

111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111

Hours later, Harry heard the Infirmary door open yet again. Harry heard sharp footsteps on the ground and could feel the confidence coming off the man who just walked in. Without a doubt, Harry knew it to be Professor Snape. The Potion's Master sat down on the chair beside his hospital bed and glared at him. Harry could feel the stare from the older man. He started to sweat slightly, and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. Harry tried to not fidget under the glare and attempted to keep steady breathing like he was asleep.

"That act may have fooled the others, Mr. Potter. However, it will not fool me. Do not insult my intelligence by trying to feign sleep," Snape said sharply, but with the lack of malice.

Of course, the bloody bastard would turn my faking sleep as an insult, Harry thought. He immediately felt guilty, however. He was just calling him out and stopping his silly little charade. Harry opened his eyes and averted his gaze from the raven haired man. Snape gently took Harry's chin and turned his gaze to his own. He felt Potter tense under his touch.

"Look at me Mr. Potter."

Harry did so, and tried to hold the man's gaze, but it was much too intense. He dropped his eyes. He heard Snape's sigh and felt guilty for some reason. But for what reason, Harry was not altogether sure.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled.

"What for?" Snape inquired.

"For…" Harry wanted to say 'everything' but thought it might be too melodramatic. "I don't know," he said, slightly frustrated.

"Do not get in the habit of apologizing for things that are not your fault. Like this situation, for example," Snape replied knowingly.

Harry frowned. Why was the man saying this? Harry knew that the Weasleys, Remus, and the Headmaster would all say that it was not his fault, but Snape too? The man had never lied to him before. Why would he start now? Harry decided the safe answer was to not answer at all and just nod.

Snape sighed again. He did way too much of that. "Get some rest." Snape walked away, but turned when he came to the door. "Oh, and Potter, no more faking sleep. When the people don't have you to talk to, they talk to me."

Harry had to smile at that.

But then he felt guilty. He's right. I shouldn't be faking sleep, he thought. Then a thought occurred to him, why was the man being so nice to Harry? He's never been nice before. Does he feel pity? Harry hoped not. He didn't want anybody to feel sorry for him. But if not pity, then what? Harry yawned, he was tired of thinking.

"Ah, I see you're up Mr. Potter," Madame Pomfrey said.

Harry jumped. He wasn't expecting anyone to talk to him quite so soon. "Yes, ma'm."

"And how are you feeling?" she questioned, somewhat concernedly.

"Fine," he said immediately.

She frowned. The nursemaid knew that he was, in fact, not fine. Physically and mentally. He was raped, beaten, starved, mistreated, and probably many more things that they hadn't found yet. "You are not fine Mr. Potter. I want you to drink these," she said as she rummaged through her cabinet for the correct potions.

Madame Pomfrey handed six potions to the boy. He grimaced through each one and laid back down. "Go to sleep, Mr. Potter."

And with that, she turned off the light and went back into her office.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered to no one in particular and drifted off to sleep.

REVIEW!!!!