Chapter Text
"You aren't even trying Potter!"
Snape sneers as I collapse to the floor holding my head in pain. In the last hour he has seen me studying in the library with Hermionie, suffering through divination with Ron, blowing up a cauldron in potions, talking in the hallway to Luna, and getting yet another detention with Umbridge. It has taken all I had to hide what I cannot under ANY circumstances let him see and as a result Snape has been been able to roam freely through most of my school day memories. Coming across some of the lesser memories of the Dursleys every now and then. Exhausted I pray Snape doesn't continue because it's a miracle I've evaded him so far...
... And my migraine is to the point that even thinking by itself is painful.
My heart plummets at the git's next words.
"Shall we try one last time tonight?" He sneers before hissing the spell once more. Causing the pain in my mind to skyrocket, and the door to my cupboard slams open for him. The book had said to envision a place where you are safe....
... It was the only place I could remotely think of.
But even there wasn't impenetrable and Snape's constant attacks had worn the wood faster then I could repair it. Memories flash by to fast for me to have stopped them even if I wasn't held back by crippling pain.
Watching Uncle Vernon burn my Hogwarts acceptance letters.
Standing in the girl's bathroom helping Hermionie brew polyjuice potion.
The glass vanishing at the zoo on Dudley's birthday.
Cedric being hit by an Avada in the graveyard.
Aunt Petunia shoving me into my cupboard right before Uncle Vernon pulls into the driveway.
Hermionie bringing up the DA for the first time.
Aunt Marge insulting my mother when I was 13.
Missing the train with Ron before our second year.
A babysitting session with Mrs.Fig when I was nine.
Finding the Mirror of Erised.
The end of a round of 'Harry Hunting' that I had lost.
Entering the Chamber of Secrets.
Being hit with a frying pan by Aunt Petunia.
Teaching the DA how to cast a Patronous.
Uncle Vernon holding my hand in the lit stove burner when I was 5.
Meeting Ron for the first time.
Doing Dudley's fourth grade math homework.
Saving Buckbeack from execution.
Turning my teacher's wig blue.
Handing Charlie Norbert on top of the North Tower.
Going to sleep in my cupboard covered in bruises only to wake up without them.
Talking to Voldemort when I was 11.
Food being pushed through the cat flap on the door of Dudley's second bedroom.
Hermionie treating my hand after a detention with Umbridge...
Snape pulls back out of my mind breathing slightly heavier then usual. I don't recognize the expression on his face but between the pain and the fact I run out of there as fast as I can that doesn't really say much. Halfway to Gryffindor tower I take a sharp right turn and hide myself in one of the old abandoned broom closets that Filch is always complaining about moving around on their own. If he actually paid attention to them he would have definitely figured out their pattern by now. I figured it out by the end of my second year when I needed to know various hide outs from those who believed me to be the Heir of Slytherin and weren't above pulling their wand on a 12-year-old.
Curling up on the floor between a bunch of regular brooms leaned against the back wall and a few rusty buckets that were once used in student detentions; my vision is blurred by pain, my mind is in shambles, and my body just wants to go to sleep and never wake up again...