Thank you WithaVengance for correcting and helping with my story!

Summary: Harry comes back to Hogwarts after a rough summer with the Dursleys. He tries to hide the scars of the summer, but refuses to deal with. Is someone going to help him before he sinks away completely?

Warning: This story contains child abuse, rape, violence and self harm.

A/N: English is not my first language, but I'm trying my best to make it easy readable and not too boring. I always reread a chapter before I post it and I try to get all the grammar and spellings mistakes out of it. Feel free to point me on remaining mistakes.

Disclaimer: I don't owe Harry Potter and related characters. They belong to amazing J.K Rowling. Any resemblance with real events or characters are a coincidence.

Careful he pushed the cold blade against his snow white skin and took a deep breath before pushing the knife into his skin. As soon as he felt the knife cut into his skin and a small stream of blood escape his veins, he was able to relax. The pain felt so good. The pain made his sorrow and frustrations disappeare for a while. It numbed his mind.

He had used this method to make himself feel better for about a month and half, but now the more he used the method, the faster the feeling disappeared and the more pain he needed to go numb.

He cleaned the knife with a simple spell and put it in his bag and then used the same spell on his arm when it had stop bleeding.

Harry looked into the mirror. His normally sparkling emerald eyes were dull and his face covered with dark bruises. Harry lifted his wand and cast a very strong glamour charm over himself, double checking his appearance before he left the bathroom.

He was happy that he was at Hogwarts so his uncle couldn't hurt him anymore but here he had a lot more chance that his habit of self mutilation would be discovered. It was hard for him to imagine what he would do if he wasn't able to cut the emotional pain away.

The thought of sitting in a dark corner, hiding from the world and crying his eyes out, made him shiver. He wouldn't let his uncle break him. He was too strong to break. After all he was the one who should kill Voldemort and a weak boy couldn't kill the most powerful dark wizard of the age.

If he couldn't destroy Voldemort, he was weak and useless. A waste of space. A freak. He would do anything he could to kill Voldemort or else he would die trying. It's not that anyone was going to miss him anyway. His family was dead, his friends were too busy with each other, and Dumbledore just used him as a pawn in his war.

Harry banned the bitter thoughts from his head while he made his way to his first lesson of the year: potions. He didn't look forward to it, but doing anything was better than doing nothing because then all the bitter thoughts and memories haunted him.

"There you are!" greeted Hermoine when he arrived in the dungeons. The classroom was still locked and Snape wasn't there yet.

"Why weren't you at breakfast?"

"Lost track of time," lied Harry.

Ron gave him a questioning look, indicating that he didn't believe Harry. "What were you doing then?"

Luckily Harry didn't have to answer that question due to the arrival of the Slytherins, lead by Malfoy.

"Potter," he said with loathing. "You're still not expelled?"

The Slytherins laughed at the comment;Harry just ignored the blond boy. If he reacted, he would surely end up in trouble. If there was one thing he learned this summer was never react and always obey.

"Since you weren't at the feast yesterday nor at breakfast this morning, I figured you weren't at school. Shame that you are."

Again the laughing of the Slytherins filled the cold dungeon.

"So, where were you then? Is the great hall not good enough for you, Potter?"

Harry felt anger rising, but he had learned to control that. Anger would only get him in trouble. He tried to pretend that Malfoy wasn't there.

"It's not polite to turn your back to me if I'm talking to you, Potter. Did your mother never teach you manners? Oh right... you never knew her!"

The Slytherins laughed loudly, but Harry still tried to ignore them, although it was very hard. But he wouldn't give anyone the opportunity to punish him.

Ron shot an angry glare to Malfoy, which made him laugh even louder.

SS

As Snape walked towards his classroom he heard laughter. He paused behind a corner and listened. Maybe he could give someone a detention, and get the year off to a good start.

"Since you weren't at the feast yesterday nor at breakfast this morning, I figured you weren't at school. Shame that you are." He heard Malfoy say.

Snape was sure that the Potter brat would say something back or even lose his temper and start a fight with his godson, but nothing happened.

"So, where were you then?" Snape overheard. "Is the great hall not good enough for you, Potter? It's not polite to turn your back to me if I'm talking to you, Potter. Did your mother never teach you manners? Oh right... you never knew her!"

Snape waited a few seconds, but the only thing that he could hear was the laughter of his house.

Strange, he thought while he turned the corner, approaching the group of Slytherins and Gryffindors. Potter usually loses his temper quickly, especially if someone insults his friends or family...

His eyes scanned the group and he saw that Gryffindor's Golden Boy had turned his back to the Slytherins and was staring at the wall in front of him, with a blank expression on his face.
Snape decided that the brat had finally learned to control his temper.

"What's so funny?" sneered Snape, pretending that he hadn't heard the conversation. No one answered; the Slytherins just chuckled.

He opened the door to his classroom and the students entered it. Snape closed the door and stalked towards the blackboard.

"Today," he started, as soon as all the students had taken place. "We are going to make a Dreamless Sleep potion."

He saw that Potter's attention shifted from the wall towards him. His dark eyes met the boy's green, sparkling eyes.

"If you don't do it right," Snape continued, "You will probably make a potion which makes you dream your worst nightmares."

He let his words sink in for a moment, scanning the class, searching for a victim from whom he could deduct points.

"You have one hour," he continued "to make it and then, after a week and half simmering you will drink your own potion and record your experience."

Snape waved his wand at the blackboard and instructions appeared. It was a fairly simple potion but it was very important the steps were performed at a precise time and with the exact quantity.

HP

Harry had a good feeling about his potion. It looked very much like the potion Hermione had brewed. Carefully, he poured the thick purple liquid into a vial, labeled it with his name and date, and put it on Snape's dark wooden desk. Snape's eyes followed his every move as if he were looking for something he could criticize him for.
The bell rang which signalling the end of the class. Harry gathered his belongings, threw them in his bag, and left the classroom as fast as he could. He didn't even bother to wait for his friends. The faster he could leave the cold dungeon and the Slytherins behind, the better.

Over the summer he had decided that didn't want to be so close to Ron and Hermione anymore. Not because he didn't like them, but he was afraid that something would happen to them if they stayed close. He was terrified that everyone who he loved would die or that Voldemort could use them to blackmail him. He knew that he would miss their company greatly, but they wouldn't miss him too much. They had each other now.

Harry suspected that they avoided snogging in front of him, but he knew they were a couple. His hopes that he wouldn't be as lonely as he was at the Privet Drive had already vanished. The scars of the self inflicted wounds on his arm were itching and he suddenly felt the urge to take his knife again and press the cold blade against his pale skin. But he had no time for that. He needed to go to Divination and it was a long walk from the dungeons.

He was the first one to arrive at the staircase which lead to the classroom in the north tower. What would Professor Trelawney predict?, Harry wondered. He was used to being the subject to her most dramatic predictions and in his homework he exploited her love for dramatic events. She always seemed to be most happy when he turned in his homework bursting with most horrible accidents and bad luck.

The bell rang again and Harry started climbing the spiral staircase. He was the first one to reach the hot room. He sat down on his usual seat and waited for the class to start.

Like usual, Divination was boring. Even Trelawney's terrible predictions couldn't bother him.

"O dear boy," she had said halfway during class in her most dramatic voice. "I see a great danger in the near future!"

Ron had laughed and even Harry was able to smile. Of course there was a great danger in his future, he had to face Voldemort after all.

Trelawney had pointed to complicated maps of stars and planets to explain her theory.

"Look! When the sun, moon, and earth are on one line, and the earth knows darkness even by day, you will fall victim to calamity! Venus indicates that it may be lethal!"

Harry knew better then to take the prediction seriously. If everything she said came true, he would have died several times already.

Divination had been good for two things: homework and a good mood.

"Just the first day and she gave us homework already!" Ron complained while they made their way to the Great Hall for lunch. "Maybe you should tell her that you are too busy preparing for the solar eclipse and that you have no time for homework."

Harry smiled again. "Maybe I should."

Most of the students were already in the Great Hall when they arrived and the tables were pretty fully. Hermione was kind enough to save them a seat.

"How was Divination?" she asked when Harry and Ron had sat down across her.

"Great," Ron answered sarcasticly. "The most exciting part of the class was when she foretold that Harry would get seriously, if not fatally, wounded during the solar eclipse."

"The solar eclipse is in two weeks, if I'm not mistaken," Hermione said. She seemed to be a bit surprised.

"Is it? Well it's not like anything is going to happen," began Harry. "If every prediction of hers had come true, I would have died several times already."

Ron laughed and Hermione looked at him disgustedly. "You really should swallow your food before you laugh, Ronald."

"Who is the new defense teacher?" asked Harry suddenly. Since he hadn't been at the feast yesterday, he had missed the announcement.

"Lupin." Hermione pointed at him.

Harry looked at the table where all the teachers sat. There, next to McGonagall, sat the werewolf who had previously taught at Hogwarts during Harry third year.

Lupin's eyes met Harry's and Harry suddenly felt his good mood melt away, like snow in front of the sun. A smile appeared on the werewolf's face. His late godfather's best friend looked well, although Harry thought that he saw a shadow in the older man's eyes.

Harry turned his gaze away from the man, knowing that he was responsible for the shadow in Lupin's eyes. Because of Harry, Lupin's good friend was dead. For the first time Harry realized that he wasn't the only one who was suffering from the loss of Sirius.

How could he have been so selfish? Because he thought the visions were real, because he wasn't strong enough to keep his mind closed, Sirius died. Because of him Lupin lost a dear friend.

Harry swallowed, trying to suppress the rising guild and sorrow, but failed. The little food that lay on his plate, suddenly looked revolting. There was only one way to rid himself of these tormenting emotions: his knife.

Without hesitation, he stood up, excused himself to Hermione and Ron with a lie about a forgotten DADA text, and left to find a peaceful place to cut away the terrible feelings that were overwhelming him.

He didn't have to think long to come up with a quiet place where no one could catch him with his knife: the Room of Requirement.

The Room had taken the form of a bathroom, minus the toilet. The walls and floors were paved with cold, white tiles. There was a large mirror in a golden frame above the sink. The Room was cold but in way comforting; Harry liked the coldness of the room. It made him relax. For a moment he stared at himself in the mirror. His emerald eyes were sparkling and his skin looked healthy, but Harry knew that it was just a mask. Underneath the mask his eyes were dead.

Carefully he took the knife from the bottom of his bag. His caressed the knife as though it was the most precious object he possessed. Perhaps it was because without it, he wouldn't be able to function. Without it there was no way to get rid of his emotions and they would just pile up inside of him and cause depression.

He took the knife in his left hand and pressed the cold blade just underneath his right shoulder. For a moment he hesitated. This was the first time he was going to cut so soon after a prior session.

Is my addiction getting worse? He wondered. Just this once. It's not that I can't keep in under control. Just this once.

He pressed harder on the knife and it sliced into his skin. The cut and the stream of blood disappeared quickly underneath his Glamour Charm but still he could feel his emotions flood away. It felt good.

He sat down on the cold tiles starting at the wall, enjoying the numbness and hoping it would last for the rest of the day.