The Darker Side of Me

Chapter Sixteen

The next morning arrived with overcast skies and heavy bouts of rain. Water poured from the castle's pitched roofs, wreaking havoc on those who were unfortunate enough to have classes outdoors. Between the torrential downpours, raging winds, and continuous lightening it was nearly impossible to reach the greenhouses let alone hold Care of Magical Creatures. However, this was the least of Harry's worries.

He had arrived back at the castle just before daybreak, his clothes a muddy mess from the road. To his relief, he had made it back to the dormitory without incident, but after hurriedly discarding his filth covered robes, he had barely enough time to change for the day before his roommates awoke. He was forced to pretend that he was dressing for breakfast instead of climbing into bed for the first time.

Ron accompanied him to breakfast, complaining incessantly about his restless night of sleep. Harry bit back a sarcastic reply and, instead, played the part of a concerned friend all the way to the Gryffindor table. He sat down quickly, reaching for a plate of bacon, thankful for the distraction.

"How did your lessons with Dumbledore go, " Hermione asked, joining them at the table. She immediately buried her face into the morning's issue of the Daily Prophet.

"We moved it to tonight, " he said wearily while poking a sausage onto his plate. He tried to stifle a yawn but failed as his mouth opened wide. "Filtch had some sort of problem."

"Then where were you, " Ron asked, his brow furrowing.

Harry felt his heart leap as he realized his mistake. He had had no time to prepare an excuse for his absence for most of the night, and he fumbled his words around in a panic.

"I…I went to the library instead, " he finally spat out. "I'm so far behind in lessons that I took the invisibility cloak and stayed trying to get caught up." He shoved a bite of toast in his mouth as a reason to stop talking.

Silence fell over them as they ate breakfast without speaking. Harry poked his food half-heartedly, fighting the urge to close his eyes. He was exhausted and part of him entertained the idea of returning to the dormitory and skipping the day's classes. Would Dumbledore know he had missed them? Would he ask why at the meeting later that evening?

"Harry, what happened to your face?"

Hermione's question cut through his thoughts. Apparently finished with her paper, she had laid it aside and was now staring at Harry in concern.

Harry brought a hand up to his cheek where he had been struck last night. He hadn't been aware that the slap had left a mark, but as his fingers brushed the skin a sharp pain radiated down to the bone. Massaging it gently, he made an extra effort in chewing his food in order to buy himself some time to fabricate another alibi.

Shrugging his shoulders, he rolled his eyes as if to say it was something stupid before swallowing. "I accidentally knocked a book off the shelf."

Ron let out a snort of laughter, but out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Hermione's concerned expression wrinkle into suspicion. Besides being a bit laughable, he couldn't see a problem with his story. Perhaps he was misinterpreting her stare, but he couldn't chance her growing skeptical. Looking up at her, he raised his eyebrows questioningly. 

"What, " he asked, his tone coming out more cross than he had intended.

Hermione continued to examine him before answering. "I just… well, you seem, " she began, obviously trying to find the right words that wouldn't set Harry off. Her brown eyes left Harry's to sweep his torso for half a second before returning.

Instinctively, Harry crossed his arms over his burns as if her eyes could see through his robes to the bandages underneath. He felt his face flush and he looked down at his plate, a wave of involuntary panic rushing over him. Hermione was clever. If she even suspected something was wrong-