The absolute onslaught of terror that haunted the Hufflepuff tower that night sent seventh years running out of the front portrait in a frenzy.
"Oh my," Professor Sprout gasped, looking around at the terrified first years running out the door. "Children! Children please!"
Small heads dashed around her waist and she clutched the frills of her smock in a tight fist. What had scared her little ones so much? A seventh year dashed passed and without thinking she shot out and grabbed his arm as he passed.
"Derick what's happening?" She asked, hurriedly.
Derick roughly pulled her arm off his shirt and stared back in the common room with fear. Sprout had never seen her students so frantic, especially one as gentle and kind as Derick Moody acting as roughly as this. She looked into his brown eyes confused as the boy swallowed hard.
"It's Potter," he said, running his hand across his forehead, pushing sweat off his tight coils.
Sprout nodded once and turned to walk into the now empty common room.
Immediately the heavy atmosphere in the room pressed down on the kind professor. The usually bright and cheery room was dark and cold. The yellow drapes looked pale and limp in the shaded light. She slowly walked towards the still figure in the center of the room. He was stiff as a board. His hand in his right pocket. His left dangling lifeless at his side. The only indication that he wasn't dead was the heavy breathing which was too fast and hard for Sprouts liking.
"Harry?" She asked softly.
She slowly crept along the creaking floorboards towards the boy. She could only see the back of his head, but imagined the look of rage on his face. Small hands slowly started climbing from the shadows, dragging themselves towards her feet. She let out a shout and jumped. The cold was intensifying the closer the shadows got to her. She could almost hear screaming, she could almost feel the scraping of rough nails against her ankles.
"Harry?" Sprout whispered, trying to shake the hands away from her skin.
Harry stood motionless in the center of the room, unable to hear or see or feel. Sprout slowly walked around the boy and saw giant black eyes staring into her. His skin was deathly pale, his veins showing dark and black under his translucent skin. His body was stiff. He was radiating dark magic, darker than any death eater she had ever had the displeasure of meeting, She winced as she stepped closer. His magic felt like knives against her skin. She could actually see pinpoints of blood covering her arms as she stepped closer. The shadows grabbed tighter, ripping at her legs. She ignored the pain of nails ripping into her over and over again, forcing her body to continue forward. She winced as cold dripped from her nose. Professor Sprout took a small breath and took the last step forward. She reached out a hand and gently touched his cheek. PAIN. Pain everywhere. Darkness and cold and hunger. A foul scream tore from deep inside her. She wasn't even aware she could make such a noise. Flashes of whips ripping skin from her back, except in wasn't her back it was Harry's. She screamed as a large man grabbed her by her hair and lifted her- no him into the air. She felt dizzy as a new scene emerged from her, no Harry's memories. An owl laying dead on the floor, hunger so intense he had to fight back the urge to eat her only friend. People staring, people sneering, people screaming. Haunted green eyes in the mirror. A coat hanger slashing across her bottom after missing the toilet while potty- training. A smack to the hand when reaching for a scrap of bread from the floor. Darkness. So much pain. Boiling water blistering hands and knuckles scraping raw against a wooden floor in a shack on the sea. Blood pooling from the tops of sneakers as he- no she- no we walked miles in a random direction. Blood. Blood was everywhere. The sound of pills rattling in a bottle. The taste of liquor on her tongue. A group of teenagers handing him a fag. Harry running, crying, screaming, BEGGING.
Professor Sprout gasped harshly and pulled her hand away from Harry's cheek. Suddenly the room was quiet, light bright from the sun. She gasped hard, tears running down from her cheeks. Harry finally moved, his mouth upturning slightly into a sweet smile.
"I'm sorry, Professor," Harry said, his voice slightly distorted in his throat "I was caught off gaurd. You see, I seem to have lost something,"
Professor Sprout swallowed her fear and offered the dead eyed child a shakey smile.
"it's okay, Harry," She said softly.
"Harry's not here right now, Professor."
Sprout winced slightly.
"When is he coming back?" She said shakily.
The black slowly withered away leaving his eyes green and wide. Sprout let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. Harry blinked slowly before turning his gaze to his head of house.
"I'm sorry, Professor," He said softly "I seem to have lost something." A pause. "Professor? Why are you crying?"
Professor Sprout smiled, tears falling down her bloody face.
"Did I do this?" He asked, turning to look at the cuts covering her body.
"No, Harry," She said softly. "You didn't"
