The Breaking
Harry sat in his room for what felt like hours. It felt like lunch had passed hours ago. In reality only an hour has passed before the gentle knock came again.
"Harry, it is time for lunch." Snape called out, anger still present in his tone.
"I'm not hungry." It wasn't a lie, nor was it the truth. Harry couldn't eat anymore, but he was hungry. He wanted to eat, but he didn't have the stomach space. Not being allowed for certain periods of time messed with his stomach.
The sound of steps leaving the area in front of his door seemed so loud. He could hear the distant chatter between Draco and Severus, his name being brought up occasionally. Harry never rose from his bed during lunch, opting to stay in the room he was gifted.
Harry has walked to his joined bathroom, a bathroom connected to the room. He sat down on the floor, allowing himself to let go. He kept his sobs and cries quiet, not wanting to allow the others to hear him. He was so tired of keeping himself together. Harry could see the window of his room reflecting light on a small pocket of his trunk, where the was a silver object. Harry slowly stood, grabbing the silver object. It was similar to a blade of small disposable razor. The blade was small, harder to hold and regulate how deep it went. Once again Harry found himself sat on the floor. He removed his too large of a long sleeve, leaving him shirtless on the floor. It started with a small cat scratch cut. He made several of the small cuts. He had kind of zoned out as he cut the last one. He ended up giving himself a Styros, which causes the middle to appear white. It bleed a lot. It was wide and gaping. Harry was panicking. He started to search the bathroom for a first aid kit, but why would wizard with healing spells have first aid kits? Harry panicked much more. All he could do was put a wad of toilet paper over it and wait for it to clot.
There was once again a knock at his door, Had Harry made too much noise? "Harry, what are you doing in there?!" Snape yelled. "You better not be breaking anything in there!"
Harry didn't know what to say, to tell Snape that he was in the bathroom or that he would be out in a minute.
"I'm coming in." The door to the room opens. Thankfully Harry locked- Oh no. Harry didn't lock the bathroom door. Harry watched in horror as the door opened. Revealing his angered potions Professor. Harry watched as Snape's eyes wandered, but stopping once he was the paper pressed to his skin. "What the bloody hell, Potter?!" Harry didn't know what to say. "Well?!" Snape kneels down next to the younger boy, lifting the boys hand to see the wound. Snape's eye widened. "What the hell Potter?!" Muttering a small healing spell Snape watches as Harry's wounds slowly stitch themselves together, leaving the boys pasty skin behind.
"I-" Harry didn't know what to say. He never found himself in this position ever. He was so scared and confused.
"Explain now!" Snape yelled. Thankfully Draco hadn't entered to see Harry like this. Scars littering his body, mostly his arm. A large sickening bruise on his ribs.
"I'm sorry Professor. You don't have to be here. I didn't mean to be a burden." Harry looked away from Snape and his own body.
"God stop throwing a pity party for yourself! You have had a privileged life! You have no reason to act like this!" Snape snarls at Harry. Snape stood up. "You are pitiful."
Harry broke. He started to yell. "Shut up! You don't know a single thing about me! You think I'm some spoiled brat! But I'm not!" Harry started to pant in anger. "You have no right to say I'm privileged!"
Snape was stunned for a second. He hadn't expected Harry to yell at him like this. Harry has been more soft spoken, rather yelling. Snape's confusion slowly grew to more anger. "You will not speak to me that way!" Snape left the room closing the door harshly with a bang.
Harry wasn't getting dinner tonight. Maybe both were in the wrong for what they said. Harry was just so angry. Harry still had his blade. He would have to find a good hiding spot so Snape couldn't find it. Leaving the bathroom Harry started to look around the room. It was much larger that any room he had in the past. It wasn't hard to find hiding spots. The slightly lose floorboard or behind the dresser. Opting for the floorboard in the end. Harry didn't have much else to do. He didn't bring much with him.
He sat on the bed, opening his trunk, then grabbing a leather bound book. It was filled with charcoal drawings. It was normally of his mother, rarely his father. The started to work on his most recent one, paying attention to the smallest of details on her face. The curve of he nose, the slight upturn of her mouth, and the gentleness of her eyes. Things like that Harry always spent extra time on, never wanting to forget the face to protected him as a baby. He wished he could still feel her warmth, her holding him gently. How he wanted to feel that love. How he wanted to be a child again. He sat staring at his mother. He couldn't feel the time pass, all he could feel is the want and need for a mother or for human kindness.
He didn't know how much time had passed before his door was opened. "Mister Potter, I will be searching through your luggage and your room to ensure you have no sharp objects you can use to hurt yourself." Snape's voice broke Harry out of his trance. Harry almost instantly closed his book, not wanting Snape to take away the one thing he really cared for.
"Keep your grimey hand out of my stuff!" Harry yells he was still mad at Snape. He earlier had little energy, but currently he was full with pent up anger.
"You will not speak to me in such a way!" Snape strode towards Harry, a stern look on his face. "You have broken the first rule and you will be serving out a punishment!" Harry didn't know what a punishment to Snape was. Harry's heart had dropped was he going to be hurt? Was he going to be yelled at? Was he going to be denied food?