One Single Day

I don't remember much of anything but what I do remember haunts me to this day. I used to wake up each day dreading it and then a miracle, rescued at the age of 11 to a wondrous world full of magic and mystery. People who saw me as one of them, as human and wanted to be my friend. But I was scared, could never let anyone close unless they saw the real me, the freak, the horror, the monster. When I grew older, I realized that there are no easy outs, I would have to keep coming back to the same family that tortured me from my earliest memories. I also realized that I had to work to keep the small amount of protection given to me, I had Hogwarts and that meant everything. That meant I had a small way out and that soon I would come to an age where I could have my safe haven, where I could give myself protection. When I defeated Voldemort, there was still a lot to clean up. The Ministry for one and Hogwarts also. I was looked to as a leader in this chaotic time but I didn't want that, I just wanted to graduate school and move on from my horrible past. After Snape was put away in Azkaban along with most of the Ministry officials, there were large gaps in the system. Even the freshly graduated were given chances at high positions. McGonagall assumed the position as Headmistress and immediately started filling in the faculty. Hermione managed to score the Ancient Runes position while Draco actually managed to acquire Potions. I finally agreed to fill the DADA position since Snape was long gone from the halls, we all hoped the curse on the position would be lifted because I looked at Hogwarts as a dear friend that had sheltered me from the storm.

As a teacher, I found Hogwarts to be very different now that I wasn't a student. McGonagall had handed over our diplomas instead of making us do our Seventh year over, we took the required tests to get them of course but in the end, Hogwarts was always my true home. I know I'm different, not just because of my past but also because of my heritage, the Potters finally claimed me as one of their own after I proved to them that I could defeat the Darkest wizard in recent history. They had also run out of heirs and I was their last choice. Also I was the Heir to Gryffindor proven by the fact that I was born in Godric's Hollow and so forth. Hogwarts was always kind to it's heirs and I was no exception. After all of that, my father and mother had their own inheritance that they had left open to me from a young age so I was worth probably as much as Draco or any one of the other Purebloods. I never told anyone all of that, Hermione naturally knew because she was there when all of it came about but she's the only one I can trust along with Ron. They had shown me true friendship in the face of evil and I don't think I could ever repay them for that.

"Harry? Are you coming to breakfast?" Hermione called from my office, I stood up, letting my quill drop onto my journal and went out to meet her.

"So how was class yesterday?" I asked as we walked down to the Great Hall. Hermione, myself and Draco were the youngest professors appointed to the faculty of Hogwarts in 300 years and sometimes I understood why. Many of the older students had gone to classes with us and alot of them didn't think they could give the same respect to us that they do the rest of the faculty. We all dealt with it in our own ways but me being Harry Potter usually excluded me from the same mischief shown to Hermione and Malfoy.

"Rather uneventful, I think they're starting to settle down now," Hermione replied as we took our seats.

"Good, I know you've been trying so many different tactics," I replied.

"Yeah, mostly they just need to get used to the fact that I'm their Professor and that they can actually learn things from me," Hermione sighed, looking tired even this early in the morning, she dug into her porridge and I picked up a few bits of bacon. Soon we're all in class, I paced before the filled classroom.

"Today is discussion day, don't any of you have anything to ask?" I ask, looking around at the students, finally one of them raises her hand...part of the Nott family I believe.

"Professor Potter, sire...what was it like, defeating...you know who?" She asked timidly, the rest of the class looks to me with pregnant expectation. I could tell they had been saving up for this one. There had been a few discussion days before, all of them animated and very much worth our time but I could also tell that before they were just testing the waters.

"I was wondering when you would get around to that. Haven't you all read the papers? The whole story is plastered everywhere," I returned to my desk and looked around at all their young faces. Early morning was the First Year Slytherin and Ravenclaws, by far my most enjoyable class.

"Yes but you're Him, Harry Potter himself, you were there and you were the one to kill him," one of the ravenclaws spoke up.

"True but I'm also just your teacher, an ordinary man with ordinary problems. I started out once just like you, as an eleven year old boy with no idea who I was..." And I rambled on about my story for the rest of the class period, the entire group looking mesmerized. Finally it was time for the next class. Fourth years, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor.

~~~~~!!!~~~~~

"Heard you told your glory story for the first years today, did you happen to throw in all the people who died for you?" Draco called as I started towards my room, I had finished up my last look around for the evening.

"People die in war Malfoy, it's a fact but I don't want to spout off all the gory, scary details to a bunch of eleven year olds," I returned, I liked the feeling that little kids out there grew up normal, far from my way of growing up.

"Can't resist self promotion," Draco clicked his tongue, shaking his head, I turned and walked up to him.

"We've known each other since we were kids, through everything that we've been through and yet you can't resist childish jabs like we're still school boy rivals," I hissed, glaring him dead in the eyes, unfortunately Draco was taller than me, lanky as a teenager but as we all progressed into our twenties, he seemed to fill out rather nicely while I stayed short, compact but powerful.

"So when were they thinking on making you a saint? Were they going to wait until you died or just until you kill off another evil being?" Draco ground back, narrowing his eyes.

"If you think I'm so great, why don't you go ahead and do the honors? I'm sure because you're such a pureblood, they'll hand you all the tools," I took a step back, raising my arms.

"Just trying to state the fact that you're nothing, sure you might have been in the right place at the right time and grew up in such a pristine world, probably training to kill off the old snake as soon as you were able. But it doesn't change the fact that you're just another glory hound with nothing else in min-" I had slammed the door in Draco's face, cutting him off. What could I say to him that could ever change his mind? He'll always think I'm the wizarding world's golden boy hero and who am I to change that? I know the truth and that's all that matters. But most of the time even I don't want that.

I sit down in my comfortable chair before the fire and lean back with the sole intention of relaxing. I slowly close my eyes and drift off before I even know what I'm doing.

It's dark, the walls are closing in on me, I struggle against the chains binding my wrists together above me. I groan and look up into more darkness. Suddenly the door opens and Vernon's grotesque face is there, grinning at me. I tense up as Dudley's face appears next to him, also grinning.

"Happy Birthday Harry, how old is he, Dudley?" Vernon asks in a sickly sweet voice.

"13, dad," he replied.

"Wow, a whole 13 years old, well isn't that special. I think we should do something special because we haven't been able take care of our special little boy while he's been away at school all year long," Vernon says, reaching forward to untie me. I immediately start rubbing my wrists. They were scared last year with all the different wizards coming by and that I might do something but now that they know I can't do anything, it's gotten even more dangerous than it was when I was younger.

"What should we do?" Dudley grabbed me and forcefully dragged me out of the cupboard after Vernon who was walking towards the back door. I instantly start struggling, Dudley instinctively snaps his beating stick down on me as he drags me forward.

"I know we can think of something," Vernon murmurs as he surveys his array of gardening and lawn tools as Dudley ties me to the corner and walks over to Vernon, following his father's gaze.

"I know," Dudley reaches forward and grabs something off the wall then swivels around towards me, a long branding iron in his hands.

"We got it just for you when you were away as a surprise," Vernon commented behind his son, I tried to meld myself with the wall as Dudley started laughing as he roughly shoved the iron into the outdoor fireplace next to the shed. I stared at the intensely burning fire and felt wave after wave of horror pass through me. Soon Dudley pulled the branding iron out of the coals, it was shaped into a simple circle and as he brought it down on my still bleeding back from the whipping they had pulled on me last night, I started screaming hoarsely, it hurt more than I could imagine.




I jerked out of my dream, realizing that I had slipped down closer to my fireplace and I was burning up. I got up quickly and went over to my bathroom, running the water, ice cold in the sink before splashing it on my face. I looked up into the mirror and took a deep steadying breathe before letting it out slowly. They had done other things before my 13th birthday but it only got worse as time went on, they just kept getting more and more inventive. I then walked over to my bedroom and slid my robes off before pulling off my sweater. I then stared into the mirror hanging on the inside of my wardrobe, my eyes roaming over the seemingly perfect looking torso, I slowly slid my eyes closed and forcefully let my glamours drop. I then opened my eyes again to stare at the scar tissue covering my body, it was far from smooth. I only made myself go through this once every month to remind me exactly what had happened to me, what I can never forget happened to me. I then stripped down to my boxers and slipped into my bed, sending a spell to shut off the lights and went to sleep.

"Harry?" Hermione called, I groaned and looked up at the light streaming into my room. It was Saturday and yet Hermione still insisted on an early start. I sat up and stretched then went over to get dressed.

"I'll be out in a minute," I called to her. Soon I walked out into my office, Hermione was seated before my desk, a book in her hands, she looked up at me, a frown slowly overcoming the welcoming smile on her face.

"Harry, what's wrong with your neck?" Hermione got up, I reached up to touch my face. She grabbed a mirror from deep in her robes and showed me, I had forgotten to bring back up my glamours and vertical scars slid down from my right ear and disappeared into my robes. I knew that they continued down my chest all the way down to my right foot.

"It's nothing, must be a trick of the morning light or something," I looked up at her, I had hurriedly brought back up the glamours as soon I realized what she was talking about. She gave me a skeptical look but didn't push me. I followed her down to the great hall for breakfast. We were going to muggle London today to go christmas shopping for the Weasleys. Draco was looking exceptionally sour as he sat next to the Arithmancy professor. I didn't think much about it as Hermione and I continued on with our plans. We exited the school and apparated in a side alley close to some shops. Soon I had forgotten all about the morning and was fully focused on finding the right presents for the redheaded family.

"Potter," Draco suddenly appeared from the crowd of muggles. He looked like a wealthy muggle, expensive black slacks with a deep forest green sweater that complimented his complexion. I checked myself, no use staring at the man, he was of course gorgeous but always a passing jewel. I learned a very long time ago to keep my eyes where they should be.

"Malfoy," I returned coldly, returning to looking over the packed shelves.

"Looking for something inexpensive so the Weasley's don't feel embarrassed over your christmas gift?" Malfoy asked, his voice sounded reasonable and slightly curious but it didn't take away from the insult.

"Why don't you mind your own business," I replied without turning to him, I could feel him step closer to me.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you can figure out something, possibly a few plastic toys for their ever growing offspring," Draco breathed hotly down my neck, picking up a pink plastic comb from one of the shelves. I glared up into his eyes finally.

"Why don't you shove off?" I growled back.

"I would rather shove something in," Draco replied, lightly pushing me backwards, I raised an eyebrow.

"If I didn't know better, I would think you just made a sexual offer," I crossed my arms over my chest.

"I don't dirty myself with half-breeds," he sniffed, turning away and stiffly walking away. I frowned darkly, what a very twisted and mixed up conversation. I turned away from the door he had disappeared out of and returned to my task, putting him firmly out of my mind.




The holidays were the usual madhouse extravaganza at the Weasley abode. Both Hermione and I managed to spend Christmas eve with all the redheads and Hermione went home for Christmas Day while I just lounged around the Weasley’s. This year I didn’t feel like staying so I found myself in the quiet halls of Hogwarts. I stared up at the castle from the Quidditch pitch, wondering when I’ll ever be able to be comfortable, really comfortable with everything that I was...

TBC...