xPART 23x

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True to his word, Castor told Harry that Anthony wanted to talk to him in the common room. So, at seven o'clock, a fur-free Harry went to talk to Anthony. He stepped into the empty common room and immediately caught sight of the fidgety boy over on the half-moon couch. He was twisting his fingers and bouncing his leg at the same time and all the while, his eyes were flicking from one thing to another in rapid succession.

Harry (thinking): Poor Anthony. He must be so nervous.

Harry quickly made his way over and sat down next to him, gently taking his hands.

Harry: Please don't do that. You'll hurt your fingers if you keep twisting them like that.

Anthony stared at him for a few seconds before he burst out sobbing. Harry was stunned for a minute but regained his composure quickly. He pulled Anthony in and held him close as his tears spilled like waterfalls from his eyes. They stayed like that for a while, maybe six or seven minutes, before Anthony's sobs ceased and he was only sniffling.

Anthony: I'm sorry, Harry. I shouldn't have soaked your clean clothes with my tears.

Harry: It's okay. I don't mind. Besides, you really needed that, didn't you?

Anthony: Yeah.

Harry: Good. Now, do you want to stay here and tell me what's wrong, or do you want to freshen up in the bathroom and go somewhere else more private?

Anthony: The second one, if it's no trouble.

Harry: Of course it isn't. Comfort is never troublesome, Anthony, you remember that, okay? Now, come on.

Harry led Anthony down the stairs to the boy's level but hesitated, clearly a little disoriented, so Anthony took the lead instead. They entered the empty bathroom and while Harry searched the cupboards for a dry handtowel, Anthony washed his tear-stained face. When he was done, Harry handed him the towel and waited before asking his next question.

Harry: Do you want to go to our room? If I remember correctly, the others should already be on their way to breakfast, so the room should be empty.

Anthony: Yes, please.

When they got to their dorm room, it was indeed empty, so, after closing the door, they sat on Anthony's bed and Harry gently prodded for information.

Harry: There was something you wanted to tell me. Are you ready to talk about it?

Anthony (sighing): I'll never be ready but I think you should know. Well, all of our friends, but I figured it would be easiest to tell you first. You know, because of your personality and motherly instincts.

The last sentence was supposed to lessen the tension but it didn't work as he had intended. Harry waited for him to continue. Anthony did and what he told him nearly made Harry's blood boil.

Anthony: Over the summer, I came out as Bi to my mother. She... didn't take it well. Her yelling got my father involved. They screamed at me for hours and then sent me to my room. They locked it and had a house elf bring me food at mealtimes. I was locked in there for days, and when they finally let me out, they told me that after I got home from my first year I would be kicked out. They also don't want me home for the holidays.

Anthony paused and looked at Harry. He had a dark expression and he was clenching his fists in his lap. When he spoke it was slow and scary.

Harry: How many days were you locked in your room?

Anthony: W-what?

Harry: I will only repeat myself once. How many days were you locked in your room?

Anthony: U-um, about eleven?

Harry: And how much food did they send to you?

Anthony: A-a small peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Harry: And how many meals a day?

Anthony: T-two. B-breakfast and d-dinner.

Harry: Same food for both meals?

Anthony: Yes. Um, Harry, are you okay? Your nails are digging into your palms. Doesn't it hurt?

Harry: I'm fine. Get dressed properly. We're going to breakfast.

Anthony squeaked a "Yes!" before gathering his clothes and changing quickly. Harry simply sat there, already dressed, trying to calm his anger. How dare Anthony's parents do that to him for such a small thing! Anthony was done now, so Harry stood up and the pair left for the Great Hall. 

At the Great Hall, Harry walked behind Anthony to their group of friends. Surprisingly, Blaise and Neville were there too.

Harry (demandingly): Anthony, sit.

Anthony silently did as he was told and everyone looked at him in concern.

Harry: Hermione, give him a generous amount of food, please.

Hermione: Yes, Charmer. Anthony, what food would you prefer?

She didn't even realize that she had used the nickname because the tension was so thick. It was just an instinct to obey.

Anthony: Eggs, sausage, and toast with jam, please, 'Mione.

Hermione: Of course.

It took two minutes to fill his plate.

Harry: Anthony, I want you to eat everything on your plate. I will know if you don't, understand?

Anthony: Yes, Harry.

Harry: Good. Hermione, may I have a slice of buttered toast, please? And where is Castor?

While Hermione got him his toast, Terry helped Castor, in snake form, drape around Harry's neck and shoulders. His weight was familiar and comforting, and Harry started to relax a little bit.

Harry thanked them both and left the Hall, munching on his toast as he went. His goal was to write to Aunt Petunia for advice and possibly a request. And then he would go to Uncle Severus. Perhaps he could help Harry calm down a bit more before classes began.

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