Resentment

He smiled and popped the golden-brown bean into his mouth. Then he choked and sputtered, "Alas! Earwax!"

And with that, the elderly wizard left the room with a cheery, self-deprecating smile that Harry had to find somewhat endearing.

Once he had left, Madame Pomfrey made herself known.

"Harry...I did not mean to eavesdrop, but I overheard..."

"What I said about my relatives," Harry said flatly.

The matron looked at him sadly. "Yes."

"Then you also overheard why I have to stay."

"But Harry -"

"Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it," Harry repeated, "But I'm not asking for anything."

"Now see here, young man -"

"I don't like my relatives, Madame Pomfrey, and they don't like me. And yeah, I'd rather stay here. But people don't always get what they want."

"Harry, this isn't about what you want. This is about you getting the care that you deserve! The care that all children deserve."

"I get exactly what I deserve, Madame Pomfrey," Harry said. He used his magic to hurt people, to scare them; he tricked Professor Snape into letting Tom into his house; he repeatedly poisoned Miss Jenkins so that they could borrow her body; he controlled people's minds for practice; he killed that troll, broke Malfoy's leg, and invaded his friends' private thoughts on a regular basis as a learning exercise. Not to mention, he just murdered his Defence against the Dark Arts professor. Really, what did he deserve? "And I'm fine. I'm safe. That's what matters. And I'd really appreciate it if you stopped asking."

The old woman closed her eyes. "I will respect your wishes, Harry. I won't press...now. But I'll never stop asking."

Harry sighed.

Predictably, Slytherin won the House Cup. After all the points they'd won at the Quidditch games and the extra points Harry was awarded for his 'heroics' (when he'd asked Professor Dumbledore about this, the kindly old man had simply said that Harry's true motivations in his expedition would remain between them), they were far ahead of the other houses. Needless to say, Harry was quite popular at the Year End Feast, but the suspicious stares were back, now. No one outright asked him about what had happened, but he could tell that they wanted to. He imagined he'd have to explain himself eventually...but for now he'd live with the suspicious staring, which he supposed he kind of deserved. He was now a two-time vanquisher of the Dark Lord, after all. Oh well, you win some, you lose some.

His friends had been another story.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" Hermione had shouted at him, "You could have been killed! Or worse! Expelled."

Theo snorted into his hot chocolate. The Room of Requirement couldn't make its own hot chocolate, but nothing stopped them from bringing their own.

"Voldemort killed my parents, Hermione. I just...wanted to know why. I grew up alone. I have no memories of being told that I'm loved, or cared for. I just wanted to know why. That's fair, right?"

Neither she nor Theo really knew what to say to that.

He ended up explaining everything to them, about Professor Dumbledore's trap and the Philosopher's Stone, which left them both quite stunned.

"You mean to say," Theo had said, "That you've known all this all this time, and you never said anything!?"

Harry had looked a bit sheepish at that. "I didn't really know how to broach the subject."

"Well you're doing just fine right now."

Needless to say, Hermione and Theo would be quite cross with him for quite some time. However, there was one distinctly positive outcome.

"Harry...I think I owe you an apology," Hermione had said after a long moment of silence, punctuated by the sounds of sipping hot chocolate.

He blinked. "For what?"

"I...I understand now," she said slowly, carefully, "I understand what you said about protecting ourselves. Back in January, I mean, when you were talking about practicing the...the dark arts."

Harry could see Theo's eyes widening. He, himself, was too shocked to react at all.

"If Professor Dumbledore let all this happen – on purpose! - then we really can't trust anyone, can we? I mean, how could he let this happen!?" she cried out suddenly, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes, "You were almost killed, Harry - we almost lost you!"

From the corner of his eye, he could see Theo nodding in agreement.

"And I can't bear to think...something like this could happen again, and I'd be helpless, I couldn't protect you even if I tried," she said shamefully, looking at her hands as tears started to trickle down her cheeks. "But I don't want that. I want to be able to help. I want to be a good friend, to protect you, if I can. But I can't do that, like I am now. I'm too weak."

Harry was holding his breath now.

"I want to learn everything you can teach me. You're my friend, and I won't lose you. Not if there's something I can do about it."

"Hermione..." was all he could whisper.

Meanwhile, Theo managed to get a hold of himself. "Are you saying that...you want to learn dark magic?"

Hermione blushed a bit. "If you'll teach me."

Then Theo did something none of them expected him to – he held out his hand for her to shake.

"Very well then. I'll keep your secrets if you keep mine."

Hermione sucked in a deep breath, and then wiped her tears away as she smiled brilliantly and grasped his hand, and before they could part, Harry reached out with his right hand and placed it on theirs.

"It can be a pledge," he said, "Between all of us, as friends. I'll keep your secrets if you'll keep mine."

"I'll keep your secrets if you keep mine," Hermione gladly agreed.

Harry grinned at that. "This is perfect! We can be like a secret society. You know, exchange knowledge and practice magic together an all that."

Hermione nodded avidly. "Oh, yes! We should have a name, too! What should we call ourselves?"

"It can't be something stupid," Theo said, "It can't be easy to make fun of."

"Like Death Eaters?" Harry said, ignoring the pain in his forehead.

His friends gave uneasy smiles at that.

"Well," Harry said, "Until we come up with a name for ourselves, we can call it the 'You-Know-What', and the Room of Requirement the 'You-Know-Where'. Kind of funny, isn't it?"

Hermione nodded. "I like it."

"Me too."

"Alright, then it's decided! This is the first official meeting of You-Know-What!"

Harry was nervous when he pulled his mirror out from under his pillow that night.

"Look, Tom, I know that you probably -"

"Well done, Harry."

Harry froze, staring into Tom's eyes, looking back at him from his own face. There was no affection on Tom's face, no pride, nothing at all – it was cold. And yet his eyes – something sincere was there. Something frank and unembellished and true.

Harry could not help but gape. "W-what do you mean?"

"You have won their loyalty and confidence. You did so artfully, with no show of force or heavy-handed fear-mongering. It was beautifully done. So...well done, Harry." All of the show, the feigned sincerity had gone from Tom's words, and all that was left was pure...truth.

Harry, realizing that he had just been paid the highest, most sincere complement possible for his best friend to give, felt tears in his eyes.

"Thank you, Tom," he whispered.

....

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