eccedentesiast || severitus

chapter four | caught

October 15, 1991

The next three months passed pretty much the same. Basically Harry would wake up every day, trying to forget the nightmares that always seemed to plague his very little sleep. Then, he'd prepare himself to convince others that he was okay that day, that he was a very normal boy, going about his school day. And it would work too, up until his least favorite class, potions, where he dreaded going every single day.

Potions.

Potions with Snape.

Potions has been an utter nightmare since that first day where Snape decided to pick on Harry for an hour and 15 minutes. He's become the Professor's new favorite chew toy.

Snape has berated him every single class he's had with his words. He's belittled, tormented and bullied Harry, and all he can do is sit there and take it because if he even dares to get smart with the man, it's an automatic 5 points from Gryffindor.

Harry has already lost his house 50 points alone. Obviously, the man hates him; though Harry wished he knew why.

He's had to pretend that the words Snape says everyday doesn't hurt him, doesn't add to his already existent pile of self hatred, that he doesn't fear the man. He has to pretend to fight with him, to put up a strong mask, to make sure the man never truly knows what goes on in his head, his life.

Sighing to himself, Harry pushed himself off of the window sill, and, with one look back at his sleeping housemates, he silently crept to the door of the dorm and slipped out.

Taking in a deep breath, he looked around the common room. The fire was still going, parchment and quills were scattered across the floors and tables, candy and crisps wrappers were strewn around, but not a person was in sight.

Thank god. The boy started down the stairs, looking behind him to make sure no one followed him. He walked over to the door of the common room and with one final look, slipped through the portrait.

He just needed to get out of that room. He's felt restless and on edge the whole time he's been at Hogwarts, waiting for the Dursley's to be around any corner, just waiting for Dumbledore to come grab him and say 'it was all a joke!'

Any time he turns a corner, any time someone comes up behind him, anytime Ron, or Seamus, or Dean, or anybody randomly grabs him, any time a student yells down a corridor to catch up with their housemates, any time a Professor scolds a student, especially him, Harry's first thought is pure panic.

Hide.

Run away.

If they can't find you, they can't take you back.

If they can't see you, you don't have to see the Dursley's.

Run.

Run.

Run.

And then he's usually brought back into the present by Ron, or Hermione, who's recently taken a liking to them. Harry rather likes her too, she's very smart, and although she made an awful first appearance, she's kind enough.

Although he doesn't really have a say in the way friends are supposed to be. Harry's never had a real friend before now and he'd take anyone at this point.

Well, anyone besides Malfoy, but that's to be expected.

Harry walked around for about an hour, making sure to track his way so he would remember how to get back to his dormitory, and just thought.

Hogwarts was not at all what he'd dreamed it would be. Sure he's a rather lucky boy now; given the fact that he has a true bed and food every night, some children aren't allowed that.

You weren't, a voice whispered into his mind.

But I have my cupboard. It's enough for me. I don't deserve more. I already burden my relatives as it is.

Besides that, he's allowed to have friends, he can learn something new every day, he has clothes of his own, and he can complete and turn his work in on time.

At the Dursley's, Aunt Petunia always made sure that Dudley's homework was done first, and if it wasn't correct, she made Harry do it right, leaving essentially no time for him to complete his own homework, resulting in Harry basically failing every class, every year, because he never turned in his homework.

Failing his classes meant that he needed to attend summer school, which he never did because he was always too beat up and bruised to even make an appearance. Uncle Vernon always somehow sorted it out somehow though, and he was able to return to regular school the next year.

Summers are his Uncle's favorite time to throw Harry around. There's no repercussions for the bruises he leaves, or the scratches, or the weight the boy loses each summer. He can do whatever he wants, because nobody cares enough to even think of Harry.

Not like the neighbors ever would. They're scared of him because his relatives made it seem as if Harry was a no good thug, who they had to take in because his parents were drunks and crackheads who got themselves killed in a car crash. And his Aunt Marge who comes over every other weekend, would never even dream of entertaining the thought that Harry doesn't deserve to be mistreated.

So yeah, Harry has no adult who truly gives a damn about him. And he worries daily still; even if he doesn't get sent back to his relatives prematurely, what will happen in summer? When his Uncle has full access to him? After not having access to him for nine months, surely it'll be much worse this summer.

And here at Hogwarts, Harry wears pants and is forced to wear his sweater, so nobody can see the numerous scars and lingering bruises that reside there on his arms. So his Uncle can liberally do whatever he would like. And Harry can do nothing to stop it.

Nothing.

He's stuck at the leisure of his Uncle, and there's nothing he can do about it and nobody he can go to. Ron's his best mate and Hermione's getting there, but he would never even think to put that burden on somebody else. And he knows that his Uncle will be even more furious that his new plaything was taken away from him.

But back to his original point, Harry believed Hogwarts would have had all the answers. He thought it would be a refuge, where he could finally be just Harry. But no, he was sorely mistaken. Everywhere he looks, someone's attention is always on him. Demanding things of him, or praising him for the things he's done to help the wizarding world, or just straight up belittling him, like Malfoy and Snape.

He thought he'd be able to get away from his Uncle, but it seems as if he just took a different form, that of Snape.

As he was in his thoughts, he did not notice himself wandering, and he did not notice the tall, black figure in the shadows, now walking progressively faster towards him, and he did not notice the man make a stop in front of him until he felt himself collide with a hard force.

Thrown out of his thoughts, he put his hands out behind him so he wouldn't completely fall on his bum. He landed with a hard thud and he felt pain shoot up through his tailbone.

Stunned, he sat for a moment and stared, before he looked up and stared straight into the eyes of his most hated Potions Professor, the man who believes him to be the bane of his existence. The man who Harry utterly, but secretly, feared (he could never let the man know he was frightened of him) was staring down back at him, the cruelest sneer already playing on his face.

Harry swallowed audibly.

"Mr. Potter! Out to cause trouble are we?"

Here we go again.

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