Secrets Revealed

Chapter One

"Are you okay, Harry?" Hermione asked. "You're acting very... odd." 

"Yeah, I'm fine, Hermione." Harry jerked out of his thoughts. "Just thinking." 

Hermione raised a hand to pat his shoulder, and Harry winced and shied away. Hermione stared at him. 

"I've, uh, got an essay to write." Harry lied. "I'll meet you in the common room."

Ron and Hermione watched as Harry hurried out of the Great Hall. In the doorway, he collided with Malfoy. Not even stopping to say anything, Harry recovered himself and kept going. Malfoy bent over and picked something up. A book. He opened it. 

"Why's he reading that?" Ron demanded. "That's clearly something Harry dropped, why is he reading it?" 

They watched as Malfoy looked up from the book. He looked horrified, and quickly left the hall. 

"What the hell was in that book?" Ron asked. 

"I wish I knew." Hermione stared after Malfoy, confused. 

oOXOo

As Draco entered the Great Hall, someone collided with him, knocking both of them off their feet. Draco looked up and saw it was Potter. He opened his mouth to say something, but Potter just got back to his feet and all but sprinted away. As Draco stood up, he noticed a small book. Opening it, Draco read the first page. 

This journal is the property of Harry Potter.

"This is gonna be good." Draco muttered, and proceeded to read. 

Just a few more days, and I'm back to Hogwarts. Back to Ron and Hermione. My friends, my classes, Quidditch. Away from here. 

I think Uncle Vernon scares Aunt Petunia and Dudley. Neither of them talk much around him. Neither of them stop him, either, but that's part of the fear, I guess. But still, I wish they'd said something. The entire cupboard smells like blood now, it's enough to make anyone sick. But then, I burned breakfast this morning, so I guess I deserved what I got. 

Nobody knows, still, which is good. I don't want to see the look on Hermione's face if she found out. And I don't think Ron would understand. I mean, his family's, well, perfect. Maybe they don't always get along, but he has five brothers, a little sister, parents who love him, and are alive... He just wouldn't understand. 

I've kept it hidden for five years. Maybe I can keep it hidden for the sixth. 

Malfoy looked up and looked around the hall, horrified, and hurried away, intent on finding Harry. 

oOXOo

Harry sat locked in a bathroom stall, clutching a sharp piece of glass. The piece from Sirius's mirror. He pulled his sleeves up, and dragged the jagged glass across his arm. Once, two, three times. Four. Five. Blood was running down his arm, which was searing with pain. Pain was good. He deserved pain. 

Harry grabbed some tissues and cleaned the blood off. It wouldn't do to give anyone any clues. 

As he left the stall, he collided with someone. Again. Looking up, he saw it was Malfoy. Again. 

Harry tried to slide the glass into his robes pocket, but Malfoy saw. He snatched it, studied it, and looked at Harry. The glass still had blood on the edge. Malfoy's expression wasn't disdain, or mocking. It was pure horror. 

Without saying a word, Malfoy grabbed Harry's arm, forced his sleeves up, and studied the bruises, cuts, and burns. 

"That wasn't in the journal." Malfoy finally spoke. 

"What journal?" Harry asked, genuinely unsure. 

Malfoy held up Harry's journal. "This journal." 

"How did you find that?" Harry didn't even sound angry, he sounded... panicked. "How much did you read?"

"You dropped it." Malfoy said. "And I read all of it." 

Harry groaned, put his back against the wall, and slid down into a seated position on the floor, his head on top of his knees. Malfoy sat next to him, silent. It became very awkward when he became aware that Harry was crying. 

"Pott, er, Harry..." Malfoy said. "You shouldn't have to go through this. It's not right. It's not legal." 

"And what is anybody going to do about it." Harry said thickly, from both crying and having his head in his lap. 

"Well, there's Dumbledore," 

"He put me there." 

"Lupin," 

"I don't know where he is, and he never writes." 

"McGonagall?" 

"She was with Dumbledore when he put me there." 

"Come on, Harry!" Malfoy said, exasperated. "Then tell, I don't know... tell Snape, why don't you tell Snape?"

Harry looked up, incredulous. "Snape? You expect me to tell Snape? Do you honestly think he'd care? He hates me, and I hate him!" 

Malfoy looked down. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. "I think he might care more than you give him credit for." 

Harry shook his head. "No." 

But when he left the room, he looked back at Malfoy, who was looking after him, and knew that they wouldn't be able to be enemies anymore. They'd both just gained a friend.