Escaping Darkness [Book 1 of Through Darkness and Light]

Chapter 6: A Respite

The class groaned at the outrageous homework assignment, and a few more glares were added to Snape's. But Harry only lifted his chin higher, and gathered his supplies, before leaving the class, carrying himself proudly.

•••

Later that evening, as Harry slipped into the Gryffindor tower to put away his schoolbooks, and prepare for his detention with Snape, he was cornered by several of the Gryffindors, among whom were Hermione and Ron. He had managed to avoid them all day, but now, it seemed his luck had given out.

"What the bloody hell were you doing?" Ron roared. Harry gave him a cool glance.

"Giving Snape what for, that's what," he said, annoyed.

"Yeah, but, there are subtler ways than that! Two hundred points, Harry! Two hundred!"

Seamus spoke up. "I say it was worth it, seeing the look on Snape's face. Priceless! I'd do it myself, if I had the courage! Cheers, Harry!"

Hermione was disapproving, as usual. "Harry, Snape or not, he's a Professor! And as such, you should treat him with the respect he deserves!"

"But he doesn't deserve it."

"He's still a Professor! He's supposed to be treated with respect!"

Harry smirked. "But you admit that he doesn't deserve it?"

Hermione paused, open-mouthed, at Harry's remark. "That...that was..." she stammered.

"Very Slytherin of you," Seamus sniggered.

"Uncalled-for and out of line," Hermione snapped, with a glare towards Seamus.

Harry just crossed his arms. "I don't care," he said dismissively. Hermione huffed, and had opened her mouth to say more, when Harry rolled his eyes. "And I don't want to hear it. I've had enough crap from Snape, alright? Can you blame a guy for getting fed up?"

With that, he turned on his heel, and headed for the portrait, ignoring Hermione's protests. Thankfully, once the portrait closed, there was blessed silence. Away from the scrutiny of his Housemates, Harry was able to let down the carefree mask. Now, he just wandered along, completely alone. Like he felt he was.

Harry sighed. He hated the look of hurt on Hermione's face, as he snapped at her. He hated the disbelieving look on Ron's face, as if he couldn't believe that Harry was capable of such hurtful things. But he couldn't help it. This wasn't how he normally was. He normally was the loyal, reckless Gryffindor. That had all been a farce, and now, they were seeing the real Harry. The real, hurting, and hurtful Harry.

All his life, he'd been treated as a freak, in good ways and bad. He was always the outsider, no matter how often Ron or Hermione tried to convince him otherwise. So, he'd adapted to the expectations of the Wizarding World, seeking approval. But he'd never had approval from everyone. And he was tired of trying.

His near-suicide had opened his eyes, and allowed him to see that they were all just using him. Except for Draco, no one really cared enough to see the hurting boy underneath the hero. They were just pushing him to further heights. Just pushing him to save their pathetic arses. And he was tired of it. He wanted to be somebody, without anybody forcing him to take that particular path. He wanted to be himself, not some hero or some freak.

If they didn't like it, well, he knew where they could shove their opinions.

"Potter!"

Harry stopped, his surroundings now coming to him with painful clarity. He was in the Slytherin dungeons, near Snape's room. And he was alone. In a corridor where Slytherins often patrolled.

He turned, seeing Goyle, Crabbe, Zabini, Nott, and Parkinson approaching. Their expressions were unreadable, as they stopped in front of him. A good sign was the fact that none of them had their wands out and pointing at him. A bad sign was their crossed arms, and firm stances.

Unsure of how to react, Harry merely asked, "What?"

Zabini glanced at the others, and stepped forward. "You are either the bravest student in Hogwarts, or a raving-mad idiot," he stated. Harry frowned.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, you heard me. Crossing Snape like that is something not even the Slytherins dare to do. You got guts, Potter, I'll give you that."

Harry raised an eyebrow now. "Please. It's not like I did something heroic. I just did what I know everybody else has been dying to do for the past how many years?"

Nott smirked, as he said, "And congrats for doing so, Potter. I don't like you, but I like the spirit. Very...Slytherin, of you."

Harry's lips twitched at the second mention of his Slytherin-like qualities. "You have no idea how Slytherin I can be," he said with the air of one who has a secret. And he did, at that. No one else knew how the Sorting Hat had wanted to place him in Slytherin. Only he and the Sorting Hat did.

Zabini spoke up again. "Well, Gryffindor or not, you impressed us all today, Potter. And suffice to say, you've earned our respect." A small smile played on his lips, as he held out a hand. "Draco seems to think that you deserve our trust and respect. You've earned one of those, why not try for the other? For Draco's sake, and based on the fact that you are the only person to have stood up against Snape and survived, truce?"

Harry eyed Zabini's hand warily. "Truce," he agreed, gingerly taking the offered hand. Yes, truce it would be, but he would never fully trust the Slytherins. Not until they had earned it. For all he knew, this was just another trap.

One by one, the other Slytherins shook his hand as well. Finally, they stood facing each other again, with a new respect for the other in their eyes. "See you later, Potter," Nott said with a friendly smirk.

"It's Harry, actually," Harry grinned. The Slytherins rolled their eyes, but kept smiles on their faces, as they parted ways.

It was no more than a few minutes when Harry was standing in front of the dreaded Potions' door. He took a deep breath, thought once about how stupid it had been to anger the baleful Professor, thought about the look on Snape's face, smiled, then pushed open the door, not bothering to knock.

"You will be cleaning all the cauldrons today, without magic. Give me your wand." The slithery voice rang out, disdain and hatred heavy in its tone. Harry raised an eyebrow, but complied. As the door shut behind him, he fought back a smirk.

Well, here we go.