Expelled - Harry Potter Fanfic

Fifteen - Knife

Harry immediately sat back on the couch, unsure if he was supposed to stay and wait for the dreaded conversation that was likely going to happen, or try to run away again and probably get spelled asleep.

Neither were preferred.

He absentmindedly rubbed the spot where the new scar was as the voices down the hall paused, then someone ran up to Harry.

"Hey kid! I almost burned down the house!" Tonks said excitedly, throwing her arms around his shoulder. Why she was excited about almost killing everybody was a mystery to Harry.

Tonks let go. "But I didn't! I can be responsible in the kitchen!" She patted Harry rapidly on the head and sat in a chair nearby, grinning and shaking wildly. Harry suspected she had eight too many cups of coffee this morning. Or she consumed a lot of sugar.

"So long as someone else is monitoring," Professor Lupin said, entering the living room. Harry could still hear the exhaustion in his voice, though he didn't turn around to greet him.

However his statement didn't seem to falter Tonks' smile, she just kept grinning until she finally realized that a (very) uncomfortable silence had fallen over everyone. Harry watched as the scarlet and gold flames licked eagerly at the mantle above, as though determined to seize and destroy it.

Harry was well aware at this point that Tonks, Lupin, and Sirius now know what his home life had actually been like. He was one hundred percent ready to never tell anyone, and he was sure that everyone else was one hundred percent not wanting to listen to him, but entitled to because the Order helps people and Harry's valuable and whatever else they have in their stash of excuses that in the end mean nothing.

No one would root for him when it comes down to Harry versus Voldemort.

No one had tried to visit him at the Dursleys.

No one can see that he's tearing himself apart slowly day by day.

No one would try and stop him should he commit.

No one would care if he did.

He would be to die alone, which was the original plan way out in his tent: die a quiet death where no one would know and have a chance to mourn, and as a bonus, the Order of the Phoenix would no longer need to fight Voldemort for him. Not by suicide, no, he figured that would be taking the cowards way out. Of course, if he gets captured then he might as well. He was no intention to figure out what horrible way they plan to kill him; he's doing fine on his own.

Now while they may not truly care about Harry's mental or emotional wellbeing, they would worry about his physical.

Because they can see it.

Anger began to refuel- even through he knew his body couldn't take much more abuse and needed a few hundred years to bring it up to standard- and he attempted to stash it somewhere where it couldn't hurt anybody.

As much as they may despise or detest him, he still cares. Even though they never bothered to help him with handling the Obscurus. They had all manipulated him into believing he was cared for and welcomed.

Especially Dumbledore.

A phrase echoed back to him:

"He said it was a random occurrence!"

No, perhaps not everyone is to blame for negligence. Perhaps Dumbledore was the problem. Perhaps he wanted Harry to feel as detached as possible, so that the Wizarding World can once again look to it's former hero instead of a newer hero. A lier, yes, they can believe that, but a younger one nonetheless.

Dumbledore had put Harry there in the first place as well. Perhaps he knew and simply didn't care.

A statement from Lupin brought Harry back to Earth. "Harry, we need to talk," he said, sitting down by the fire, the reflection of the fire's light illuminating the scars on his face.

Harry forced himself to look as calm and oblivious as possible, ignoring how the mark on his wrist began to noticably pulse and his fingers itched for his knife. "Talk? I don't believe there's anything to talk about."

Lupin opened his mouth, but Tonks cut him off. "Well, starting from August, Arabella notified that you had disappeared, and you knew we know, and you didn't want to see us to figure things out on your own, then when we finally did catch up to you, you blacked out from pain and spells, and then you woke up and disappeared again-"

"In my defense there were restraints. I should think that would give me a reason to want to run away again," Harry pointed out. He brushed his hand lightly over his pocket and didn't feel his knife.

"Well yes, but then you jumped out a window, and we though you committed you-know-what-icide.." (it amused Harry that she refused to give it a proper title).

Where was it? Was it buried deeper? He was trying to remember if he had it with him on the roof.

"then you threw a book at Sirius..."

Harry ducked his head slightly enough to cover his eyes, aware that Lupin was watching him closely but he didn't care at the moment. He was certain that he had it with him on the roof...

"Looking for this?"

Harry lifted his head back up, and Lupin had his knife in a clenched fist. It would've been impossible to tell, for his fist covered the entire handle- on the handle he inscripted "My defense and my first friend", which was an easy way to tell it was his- except for the died blood on the blade. Blood that was Harry's own, right after he had woken up after Tonks put him under a sleep spell. It was the only way he was able to let loose his string of apologies so suddenly.

He lifted his chin up, trying to appear nonchalant. "I don't see why I need it. Is it yours?"

Lupin's eyes narrowed and Tonks had shut up for the moment. It was clear that neither adults wanted to say it for fear it was true, and Harry wasn't about to cave into one of his last secrets.

Footsteps echoed behind him, and he knew who it was and was aware that they were getting closer, but Harry didn't dare break eye contact with Lupin. A wave seemed to pass over Harry suddenly, telling him to move. He reacted a second too late. Sirius had grabbed both Harry's shoulders to prevent him from dashing, and they knew that he wouldn't dare try to transform because it may lead to someone getting hurt.

Harry narrowed his eyes right back as Lupin seemed to take a deep steadying breath and glanced above Harry's head, presumably at Sirius. The two sides sat in silence. Harry was waiting for them to speak, and they were waiting for him to either speak or have a breakdown in turn.

The clench that Sirius had on Harry's shoulders were starting to hurt, and Harry moved his right hand to brush it off. He was unprepared when Sirius intercepted his arm and began to roll up his right sleeve...

Author's Note:
Wow I am sorry this took me so long, a lot of things got me distracted and I felt a bit cornered again. Anyway... Hope you enjoyed!

P.S I didn't know what else to title this chapter so... Knife it is 🙂