Stand By

The sound of loud chattering and laughter roused Harry late the next morning. He blinked sleepily before carefully sitting up, waiting for the inevitable pain to flare in his chest. Stretching gently, he was surprised to find his chest didn’t hurt at all, not so much as a twinge. It seemed odd, but he decided he wasn’t going to question it. No pain was a good thing. As he rose, a small piece of parchment caught his eye.

    I did a healing spell. No need for Pomfrey. I learned a few, just in case.         Tonight, 10, same place.

                DM

    Harry smiled at the hastily written note. For reasons he didn’t want to think about, the fact that Malfoy had spent time looking up healing spells for him made his stomach feel as if someone had set loose a few snitches inside. It was almost…sweet. Nothing he’d expect from Malfoy. Tucking the note into his pocket, Harry glanced out the window.

    Below, he could just see the last of the carriages pulling up towards the Hogwarts entrance hall. Christmas holidays were over. In a few moments, his fellow Gryffindors would come bounding in, flushed from the cold and grinning. Harry sighed softly, turning away from the window.

    None of them would know what had happened over break, how much Harry had changed. Even his best friends would be clueless and he couldn’t tell them. Hermione wouldn’t understand that night when Malfoy had found him, how close he’d been to leaving for good. Ron wouldn’t comprehend the deal he had made to keep Sirius safe and the feeling he had that maybe the deal wasn’t so bad.

    Harry sighed again, running a hand through his hair. “Oi! Mate, you here?” Ron’s cheery voice called from the entrance, drawing his attention away from the window. “Harry!”

    Forcing himself to smile, Harry turned. “Ron! Hermione!”

    “Harry! I missed you! How was your Christmas? How are you?” Hermione cried, dropping her trunk to rush towards Harry, pulling him into a tight hug which he uneasily returned.

    “I’m good Hermione. How are you?” he answered, trying to sound sincere.

    “I’m good!” Hermione smiled brightly as she released him. A little too brightly There was something different about her. Harry looked intently into her shining eyes, as if they held the answer. “What?” Hermione asked after a moment of the intense observation.

    Harry cast a questioning glance at Ron, who’s own brown eyes were sparkling madly. Something was up. Suddenly, it hit him. His two best friends were practically glowing. “You two are dating!” he cried. Both of them began to gasp and stutter wildly, casting uncertain glances at one another.

    “Harry, you see…it’s not…well…we…I spent some time at the Burrow, and we…” Hermione turned wide eyed to Ron who could only shrug.     

    “You don’t have to explain,” Harry said quickly, “Really.”

    “Are you upset?” Ron asked nervously.

    “Of course not!” Harry laughed. “I’m happy.” Hermione sighed in relief, taking Ron’s hand. Smiling mischievously at the two, Harry added, “After all, I won the bet!” At that, Hermione’s eyes narrowed.

    “What bet?” she asked.

    “Gryff tower bet on when you two would get together. Neville has you down for seventh year. Seamus and Dean had you for fourth. Gin was betting on summer between fifth and sixth.”

    “Harry James Potter!” Hermione cried, hands flying to her hips. “You…I can’t…grrrrr!!!!” she shrieked in frustration

    “Mione!” Harry held up his hands in a sign of surrender. “I was kidding!” Instantly she flushed, realizing he had been simply teasing the new couple.

    “M’sorry,” she mumbled, before burying her head in Ron’s shoulder. Ron himself was shaking with silent laughter. He slid one arm around her, pulling her in for a quick kiss. After a moment, she pulled back, laughing softly. Harry suddenly felt very ill.

    “I have to go. Meeting Dumbledore. I’ll be back,” he managed to say before stumbling past the two and into the hall. He ignored Hermione’s worried cry that followed him out.

    What’s wrong with me, he silently wondered. Why did the sight of his best friends happy make him feel like throwing himself headfirst off of the Astronomy tower? Barley suppressing a moan of frustration, Harry slid to the floor, burying his face in his hands.

    “Problems, Mr. Potter?” Snape’s cold voice rang through the hall. In his frustration, Harry had overlooked the dark form hovering oddly enough in the upper levels.

    “No sir,” Harry forced himself to reply civilly, though inside he was seething. Why did the man always show up when Harry wanted to see him least?

    “Then why, may I ask, are you sitting out here in the hallway while your dear friends are inside?”

    “Because being with them makes me wish I had died that night.” The words were out before Harry could stop them. Horror flooded his system. Slowly, he turned to look up at Snape. The man’s dark eyes were carefully shuttered.

    “The night with Voldemort?” Snape asked after a moment, tone slightly softer then before.

    With a heavy sigh, Harry decided to answer honestly. He was too tired to play games anymore, too tired to hide. He was hurting inside and it wasn‘t worth the pain to keep anything else in. “No sir. The night I tried to kill myself.”

    Snape blinked heavily once, twice. “Kill yourself?”

    “You know, slit my wrists,” Harry shrugged, finding the situation oddly amusing. He had to fight the smile that was making his lips twitch. Of all the situations he’d been in during his life, he’d never thought this would be one. Confessing his suicidal tendencies to a teacher, one that despised him, no less.

    “Pray tell Potter, how ever did you survive?” Snape asked, trying hard to sound mocking, but failing. Harry noted the man’s lip was quivering slightly. It seemed odd and completely out of place on the normally firm man. Human emotion. Harry almost laughed again.

    “I was stopped.”

    “Obviously not by one of your friends or this would have been brought to the Headmasters attention long ago. So who?”

    “Malfoy.”

    “Draco?”

    Harry finally laughed at that. “Well, as I am fairly certain Lucius Malfoy wouldn’t be in any rush to save me, yes, Draco Malfoy. Why so disbelieving? Did you think he‘d let me die?”

    “I…” Snape shrugged, for once at a loss for words.

    “Yeah, I know,” Harry smirked. “The answer you’re looking for is yes, he would. But he didn’t.” The smirk faded as his gaze dropped once more to the floor. “Damn him.”

    Seeming to recover some of his poise, Snape sneered, “I think perhaps we should get the Headmaster. This is a matter for him.” At that, Harry’s eyes widened in panic as his heart dropped.

    “Sir, please, no!” Harry begged. “Give me detention, take away house points, please, just don’t tell Headmaster!” His head dropped into his hand once more as he went on, “I couldn’t take it if he knew. Please, sir, I am begging you. Don’t tell.” One, small tear slid down Harry’s cheek. “Please.”

    “Potter,” Snape said gently. Far too gently, in Harry’s opinion. Harry reluctantly looked up. “This is a serious matter, one you are not equipped to handle yourself. You need help.”

    “I’m fine. Really, I am,” Harry promised.

    Looking like he immensely regretted it, Snape dropped to his knees beside Harry, forcibly repressing the sneer threatening to take over. “I understand that the events of last year were difficult for you and that you’ve a hard time ahead, but it’s not worth ending your life over. Nothing is.” He sighed before continuing, “I will not tell the Headmaster.” Harry started to thank him, but Snape added, “Tonight. But if I ever hear of you even thinking about such a ridiculous notion again, I will personally drag you into his office, understand?”

    Harry nodded gratefully, surprised by the decency Snape was displaying. Snape himself seemed to be in shock at his own actions. After a moment of silence, he stood back up, casting one last glance at Harry before striding purposefully away.

    “Bloody brilliant, Potter,” Harry laughed bitterly to himself when Snape’s from had faded from view. “When Snape’s worried, you know you’re fucked.” Harry shoved himself angrily to his feet.

    Well, things had certainly not gone as he had expected. So far, the day was a mess. He looked down at his watch, frowning. “It’s only nine in the morning. How much worse can the day get?” he wondered aloud.