Keep on keeping on

Hermione panicked. She watched her only friend fall in a dead faint and hit the ground with a sickening thud. She immediately fell to her knees beside him.

“Harry!” The girl cried, shaking the boy. His skin was pale and bloodless. In his unconscious state, Harry’s face looked peaceful and relaxed, but Hermione knew he never actually felt like that.

“Professor! Professor help!” Hermione held back her tears, but she stumbled over her words. The ghost professor came over to the commotion, gliding through students who then shivered. A crowd had surrounded Harry as Hermione huddled over him, protecting him from prying eyes. She heard the whisperings and the shocked mutterings, but Hermione ignored them.

“Ah. Right.” The professor whispered, a bored look on his face. His eyes scanned the crowd and fell on Ron who was stood smirking. “Weasel, get Madam Pomfrey will you.” The ghost instructed. Ron scoffed, muttering about his incorrect name, but left the classroom. Hermione continued to shake the boy, but he did not wake. She lifted his head and placed it in her lap. But when Hermione moved her hand away from the back of Harry’s head, her hand was covered in the boy’s blood. She balked at the glistening red liquid and let a tear slip from her eye.  

“Out of my way. Out of my way.” Madam Pomfrey ordered loudly, pushing her way through the throng of students. She gasped when she saw Harry lying in Hermione’s lap.

“Miss Granger, what happened?”

“He just fainted when he tried to stand. I don’t know!” Hermione cried hysterically, gasping through her sobs.

“Ok, ok take a breath young lady. Let’s get him to the hospital wing.” Madam Pomfrey levitated Harry with a small flick of her wand, and she guided Harry from the classroom, Hermione tailing closely behind.

Once in the hospital wing, the nurse carefully placed Harry on a crisp, white bed. When she went to examine the boy, she noticed the splotches of blood on the pillow and sighed.

“Hit his head when he fell, did he?” She turned to Hermione. Hermione hesitated but nodded her head in agreement eventually. She realised that the blood probably came from Harry repeatedly smacking his head against that cupboard wall, but she knew Harry wouldn’t want people to know that. She knew it was an important piece of information, but she figured Harry should be allowed to tell people that on his own terms. Madam Pomfrey waved her wand, and the bleeding stopped.

“He’ll be fine. A nasty headache, I’m sure, but he’ll be fine Miss Granger.” Hermione nodded, gratefully. The matron turned and walked away, leaving Hermione alone with a still unconscious Harry. She slipped her hand into his and squeezed tightly.

“Come on, Harry. Please wake up.”

When Harry woke, he didn’t feel the pressure behind his eyes anymore. His eyes were still shut but he could feel the harsh, artificial light pressing on his eyelids. He groaned and tried to open them but immediately shut them again when he was assaulted by that bright light.

“Harry!” Hermione whispered, her voice rising. Harry opened his eyes again, this time keeping them open, despite the light. He turned his head to face Hermione. Her face was streaked with tears, eyes red and puffy.

“Oh Harry! I’m so glad you’re alright!” She cried. Harry nodded but winced at the stiffness in his neck. A strange woman bustled into view at Hermione’s voice. She was dressed in a white dress with a scarlet robe over the top. Her greying hair was scraped back into a tight bun, pulling at her face. But her eyes were kind, and she had a sweet smile on her lips.

“Ah Mr Potter. You’re awake. How are you feeling?” Harry shrugged and turned away, face flushing with embarrassment.

“I’m Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse. You fainted in class and Miss Granger, and I brought you here. You had a large laceration on the back of your head from your fall. I’ve fixed it up and, besides a nasty headache, you will be fine. Now, do you know why you fainted?” She explained warmly. Harry shrugged again. Madam Pomfrey looked at him expectantly, but her face changed to that of confusion when Harry didn’t answer.

“Right well, will you let me perform a diagnostic spell on you? I couldn’t do it whilst you were unconscious. It won’t hurt but it will just tell me of any injuries that you have that might have caused you to faint earlier this evening.” Harry shook his head. He knew his refusal would cause suspicion, but he couldn’t risk anyone finding out about his bruises that were still on his chest and stomach. Madam Pomfrey hesitated.

“Mr Potter, whilst I cannot force you, I implore you to consider reason. I don’t know why you fainted, but I would like to find out.” Harry shook his again and looked at Hermione, silently willing her to answer for him. Hermione made eye contact with him and understood.

“Madam Pomfrey, please, Harry and I just missed lunch that’s all. We got caught up exploring the castle and forgot to go to the great hall before lunch time finished. I’ll make sure he eats something.” Hermione explained. Madam Pomfreys lips thinned but nodded at Hermione’s explanation.

“Okay. Then you both may go. Eat something Mr Potter.”

Harry and Hermione entered the great hall just as dinner was starting. They’d only been in the hospital wing an hour, but they hadn’t had time to drop their things off in their dorms. So, lugging their backpacks with them, they sat down at the end of the table. The plates in front of them were filled with steaming pans of cottage pie and roasted vegetables. Hermione spooned some of the food onto her plate and looked at Harry. Harry followed suit and piled some vegetables on his plate, followed by a small spoonful of meat and potato. His guilt around eating was easing slightly but he still felt horrid with every mouthful. He pushed the food around his plate and put small amounts to his mouth every few minutes. As time passed, the noise in the hall grew and Harry was beginning to feel overwhelmed. The noise was too much for him. He began to rock slowly in his seat, not able to eat anymore. Hermione noticed his behaviour and finished her food quickly. Once finished, she didn’t wait for dessert and got up to leave, guiding Harry out with him.

The pair headed to the dorms whilst they were still empty. Once through the door, Harry ran for his bed and curled up in a ball. He felt the bed sag as Hermione sat down next to him. She rubbed his back soothingly as Harry sobbed into his pillow. They both sat there in those positions for ten minutes before Harry shifted, pushing himself up into a seated position and reaching for his notebook.

[Thank you.]

“No need to thank me, Harry. I care about you.”

[I know but I appreciate it all the same.] Hermione hesitated before asking her next question. She didn’t want to push the boy but in the just under 36 hours Hermione had known Harry, she’d witnessed multiple breakdowns, moderate self-harming behaviour and had still not heard him speak.  

“Harry-” the girl began, fiddling with her hands nervously “-I know you said you can’t talk about things, but you can trust me. I want to help you.” Harry looked up but didn’t move. Hermione smiled at him warmly, encouraging him silently.

[It was bad. I wasn’t really given any food, and they’d hurt me and shout at me. Called me a freak. That’s why I reacted the way I did when Ron said that.]

“Thank you for sharing that. That sounds horrible.” Hermione whispered sadly, rubbing her hands on Harry’s arms. The pair sat in silence again, Harry leaning into the comforting touch from Hermione.

“Harry. Do you want to learn to talk again?” Hermione asked slowly. Harry thought for a moment and then nodded. He began to write in his notebook again.

[I want to talk again. I do. I just don’t think I know how to anymore. I was always told to never be seen or heard and eventually, I just lost my voice. I don’t know how I’d talk again.]

Hermione thought for a moment.

“When I was in muggle school, there was a girl there. She was deaf so she couldn’t hear but she also couldn’t speak. Because she had never heard anyone talk, she didn’t know how to. So, instead, she used sign language to communicate. It was a lot easier than writing on a notepad and it means that you and I could have proper conversations. If I did some research, there is bound to be a spell that makes someone able to do sign language. Would you be interested?” Harry nodded eagerly and gave Hermione a grateful smile.

[I think that would be great. I can’t always use my notebook, and it would be useful for communication.]

Hermione nodded but opened her mouth to speak.

“Ok. I can do that. But Harry, it won’t make the problem go away. I know sign language and am happy to interpret to teachers in classes, but they’d need to know why. Sign language is not common in the magical world, and it won’t solve the problem of not being able to cast spells. So, I recommend that on top of sign language, you and I work together to try and teach you how to talk again. Is that ok?”

Harry hesitated and thought for a moment. Eventually he nodded.

[Okay. I think I can do that. I will talk to McGonagall.]

“Good. Thank you, Harry.” The friends returned to silence once again.

As Harry’s dormmates filed into the room, Hermione stood to leave.

“Will you be ok Harry?” She whispered, eyeing the boys warily. Harry nodded and stood up too. Hermione touched his arm and left the room, leaving Harry alone in a full bedroom. The rest of the boy began talking loudly and taking off their robes, flinging them around the room.

“Oi, guys. How’d you find Snape?” Ron called out to the room.

“Absolute nightmare mate!” Neville groaned.

“Oh yeah! He’s the worst. That gaze sent shivers down my spine.” Seamus responded, shivering at the recollection.

“His hair! Did you see how greasy it was? Do you think he’s showered? Ever!” Dean shouted, giggling. All the boys broke in raucous laughter, clutching at their stomachs.

“What did you think about old Snape, Harry?” Ron shouted, cruelly. He eyed Harry with disdain. Harry knew Ron asked him this on purpose, knew he wouldn’t answer, and he asked him a direct question just to make fun of Harry. When Harry was silent, Ron laughed.

“Oh yeah. Silly me for asking Harry a question.” Ron mocked, drawling out Harry’s name. Harry was fed up. He’d had enough. Harry was sick of being the laughingstock of his dorm room. He was miserable here.

Harry pulled his notebook from beside him and began to write angrily. Once finished, he ripped the page out and balled it up, throwing it at Ron. It hit Ron square in the face, who subsequently grew red with rage. Ron picked up the paper and uncrumpled it, his eyes flicking over the boy’s words. He scoffed and then begin to read aloud.

“Muteboy here wants us to know something” He began, his voice laced with disgust. “Ahem, I am not a freak. I don’t like you and you’re pathetic. Thinking that it’s big to pick on someone does not make you cool. It makes you the freak. Not me. If you don’t like me, fine. I have had plenty of people that do not like me in my life. I can communicate. If you want to talk to me, I can talk to you. But if not, keep your mouth shut.”

Ron began to laugh and looked at Harry once he’d finished.

“It’s a good thing you don’t like me because I don’t like you much either. Most people in this place don’t like you. You are not the chosen one we expected. We expected a strong, vocal, powerful child not a mute freak like you.” Ron spat, stepping closer to Harry with every word. Harry began to shake as Ron came closer. Ron stopped so close to Harry, that the shaking boy could feel the red-headed boys breath on his face. Harry’s shaking grew and he cowered under the boy’s glare.

“You are nothing. You mean nothing.” Ron raised his hand and slapped the boy across the face. Harry reeled at the impact and clutched his reddening face with his trembling hands. He bit back tears and stood frozen, his face stinging. Harry was determined not to show weakness, but he couldn’t stop the flashbacks from crossing his eyes.

Ron’s face morphed in Uncle Vernon’s, contorted with rage. It flicked back to Ron and Harry watched as the boy raised Harry’s note in front of his face.

“Well, this is what I think of your words.” Ron whispered menacingly. He then proceeded to tear Harry’s note into pieces and throw them in his face. This broke Harry. It brought him back to his sense and he became aware of the deafening silence that filled the dorm room. Harry couldn’t hold back the tears any longer and he sobbed. Ron laughed again and Harry turned on his heel and fled, leaving the cackling bully behind.