Thanks for the support! I started this story because I was bored at work and I can't believe it's actually being read Sorry for the sluggish updates, as I said, I do this at work and actually get paid for it, haha. Thanks to Lonely, Charlie, and Anime for the reviews. I really appreciate it.
Chapter 4:
When Harry regained consciousness he was in the infirmary of Hogwarts. He must have been out for awhile because the room appeared dark as if it were night. As he looked around the room he saw Hermione reading a book in an armchair and Ron in one parallel to her asleep. When she noticed Harry had awakened she nudged Ron and he groggily opened his eyes.
"Harry, how are you feeling?" She asked cautiously, coming to kneel by his bed.
"Alright." He replied, though this was far from true. He felt like he had been hit by a truck but his friends had enough worries.
"What happened?" He asked, a hand to his head.
"Malfoy gave you a small concussion and somehow managed to break two of your ribs…you had internal bleeding Harry...you almost dies!" The girl leaped to her feet and gently hugged the healing boy.
"Who said anything about Malfoy?" Harry questioned.
"Well who else would it be mate?" Ron spoke, "We all know he's a sodding git."
Harry smiled slightly, "Malfoy may have given me the knock to the head but he's not strong enough to break my ribs." He explained, not wanting to give Malfoy the credit.
"Harry, if Malfoy didn't do it then who did?" Hermione asked
"No one, I told you Hermione, it's from when I fell out of that tree." He avoided her eyes fearing she would see the lie.
"No it wasn't Harry!" Hermione stood straight up, tears falling from her face. "Just admit the truth so we can help you!"
"Help me with what Hermione? What can anyone do about it?!" Harry shouted a bit too forcefully.
"I don't know but...You just…you can't keep doing this to yourself Harry..." She sobbed.
Harry sat dead still comprehending what he had just heard.
"Wait…You think I did this to myself?! That I'm some sort of sick masochist?! Are you out of your bloody mind?!" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. That his friends could view the abuse on his body and think that he was doing it himself…that he was that weak…he just couldn't believe it.
"Well what else are we supposed to believe?" Hermione said gently, "You took Sirius's death really hard Harry…and we know you blame yourself…you hadn't responded to a single letter from either of us all summer." She put a hand reassuringly on his shoulder.
"I never got any sodding letters! You know what, go ahead and believe it. Believe that I did this to myself because I don't feel worthy of living while Sirius is dead. Because I feel like dying everyday but know that I can't because I have to be the 'Savior of the Wizarding World'. But if you truly believe that then you really are quite dense for being the brightest witch of your age." Harry said more than he had wanted to. He let his actual feelings slip out but he wondered if it even changed anything.
"Then Harry…what did happen?" Hermione asked tentatively.
"What do you think Hermione? If I didn't do it to myself who does that leave?" Harry was tired of trying to make her understand.
Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment then her eyes became large. "Your Uncle?! Your uncle did this to you?! Oh Harry I-"
Harry cut her off, "I need some rest now."
She held back tears and Ron looked shocked. She nodded her head.
"See you later." Ron said.
"Yeah" Harry poured himself some sleeping drought and fell into dreamless oblivion.
Draco made his way slowly and silently to the infirmary. He needed to make sure the scar head wasn't dead. His father wouldn't be happy if he ever found out and the Dark Lord would kill him. He had plans for Potter. As Draco approached the door he heard voices and hid in the shadows by the door.
"…You think I did this to myself?!" He heard Potter yell. Draco was taken aback. Were The Golden Boy's friends really that stupid? He berated himself for even asking that question, they were Gryffindors, of course they were stupid. The Slytherin's inner monologue had made him miss more of the conversation; the next voice he heard was Potter's again.
"You know what, go ahead and believe it. Believe that I did this to myself because I don't feel worthy of living while Sirius is dead. Because I feel like dying everyday but know that I can't because I have to be the 'Savior of the Wizarding World'. But if you truly believe that then you really are quite dense for being the brightest witch of your age."
Score one Potter. He listened more intently when he heard the mudblood ask the question of what really did happen.
"What do you think Hermione? If I didn't do it to myself who does that leave?" He heard the boy-who-lived reply.
There was silence then a high pitched response, "Your Uncle?! Your uncle did this to you?! Oh Harry I-"
"I need some rest now." The boy replied monotone.
Draco left then. Head spinning. He had always imagined the Golden Boy living in a huge mansion with a family that worshipped the ground he walked on. Not an abusive Uncle. He didn't understand why it bothered him so much. He thought to himself, 'Maybe Potter is just searching for more attention'. Though something in Draco knew this wasn't true and really wondered why he cared. Besides…he was going to do something far worse then the boys Uncle ever had. Draco Malfoy, hypocrite of the year.