A Clash of Perspectives

"That they hit you, made you go hungry, locked you away -"

Hermione looked horrified. "That's a terrible thing to say!"

Harry was taken aback by the vehemence in her voice. "Why?"

"You shouldn't exaggerate like that Harry, someone will get the wrong idea!"

"Exaggerate? You think I'm just saying things?"

"Well of course you are! No one's being hit or locked away, Harry."

"You're saying nothing like that's ever happened to you?!" he nearly shouted.

"Of course not! Who would do a thing like that?"

"Muggles!"

"Muggles are just people Harry, just normal people!"

"Well maybe that's what's wrong with them!"

"Harry James Potter! There's nothing wrong with being a muggle!"

Harry scowled angrily. "Of course there is!"

Hermione looked outraged. "What could possibly be wrong with being a muggle!?"

Harry was getting very, very frustrated now. "I told you, they're stupid, weak, and cruel. To them, we're just freaks. I don't know how you got so lucky. But that what it is, Hermione, luck."

She scowled. "Luck? What do you mean lucky?"

"My magic wasn't ignored, Hermione. The first time I accidentally did magic, they hit me and locked me in my cupboard for a day without any dinner. And the punishments got worse every time I showed them how much of a freak I was!"

A dull ache was starting to form in his skull.

"Your...cupboard?"

"Yes, Hermione, my cupboard. They made me sleep in a cupboard until I was eight, you know. And they hit me and locked me in there whenever I did something wrong. And believe me, I was always doing something wrong. 'Boy, why's my coffee not ready?' 'How dare you score higher than Dudley on that test!' 'It's already four o'clock! Why's the garden not weeded?' 'Freak! I'll have none of that freakish-business in my house!' Always, always doing something wrong."

Hermione gaped. "They...they...your family...they hurt you?"

"That's what they do," Harry spat out.

"Why?"

"Because they're muggles!"

Hermione looked like she was about to argue, but instead bit her lip, hesitating. "You...why didn't you tell any teachers?"

"Because they wouldn't care! They all hated me too. They all knew about the accidents I had at school, and they did everything they could to avoid me. The other children, too. And even if they did care, what would happen to me if they took my Aunt and Uncle away? Where would I go? An orphanage? Foster care? That wouldn't be much better. "

He head was pounding now; it took everything in him not to squeeze his eyes shut and double over in pain.

"That's not..." Hermione shook her head. "Then tell a Hogwarts professor! I'm sure -"

He took a deep breath, calming himself down. He needed to fix this. He needed to get rid of this headache. "I already tried. I asked Professor Dumbledore if I could stay here over the summer. He refused. He said there would be no one here to take care of me, and I can't go anywhere else, because there are special wards around the Dursleys' house. He essentially said it was a necessary evil. And..." he sighed in resignation, "To be honest, they don't treat me so badly anymore. They're too scared of me. Sometimes Uncle Vernon still smacks me on the head, and sometimes they lock my bedroom door for days at a time, but it's...tolerable."

The headache started to subside.

Hermione had tears in her eyes. "There has to be something we can do, Harry!"

"I've done everything I can. I managed to scare them into getting my own bedroom, into lessening my chores. They're too afraid to hit me, for the most part."

"Why would they be scared of you?"

Harry hesitated. "I may have insinuated that I could use my magic to...cause lots of trouble for them if they didn't start treating me better."

Hermione looked at him sadly. "I see."

"...you do?"

Hermione nodded reluctantly. "You did what you had to, Harry. If someone hurts you, you have a right to stand up for yourself! You're just a kid, and if no one will help you...well you had to protect yourself, didn't you?"

He stared at her with wide eyes.

"Just...tell me if I can do anything to help, ok?"

The headache had disappeared, and his heart leapt at her kind words. Suddenly he was overcome by warmth, and smiled brilliantly. "You're the best Hermione!" His smile turned into a frown. "But you have to promise you won't tell anyone."

"But Harry -"

"Hermione. I'm already the Boy Who Lived. I don't want to be the Boy Who Lived in a Cupboard Under the Stairs."

"Harry, I'm sure no one would look down on you for it -"

"My housemates might...and everyone else...they'd just pity me. I don't want to be pitied, Hermione. It doesn't do anything to help me, and it just makes me feel helpless. I refuse to be powerless in the eyes of others. I'm better than that. And I definitely don't want them interfering - I definitely don't want to be given away, put in an orphanage, into foster care. I'm sure you've heard stories, Hermione. You know how bad it could be." He looked at her solemnly. "Please...as my friend. Trust me. Don't tell anyone."

"But Harry -"

"Please Hermione. I've...thought about this a lot. I know what's best for me."

"Harry, they're hurting you -"

"No, they're not. Not anymore. You know me, Hermione. I look after myself. You trust me, right? I've never given you a reason not to."

"Harry..."

"Please, as my friend. Trust me."

She took a deep breath, and nodded slowly. "I'll keep your secrets if you keep mine."

Harry smiled softly. "I'll keep your secrets if you keep mine."

"Honestly, Granger, I don't know what's wrong with you. I'm quite happy with my Exceeds Expectations in Potions."

"That's not the point, Nott! Professor Snape likes you perfectly well - you've no excuse not to come out of it with an O!"

"Who needs an O when an EE is a perfectly reasonable alternative?"

"Reasonable!" The girl huffed. "Nothing but your very best is reasonable!"

Harry smiled softly as he listened to his two friends bicker over Potions marks, seated across from each other in the compartment they were sharing together. Sparing a glance at them, he nearly burst out laughing when he caught sight of Theo's sneer and Hermione's sour face. Shaking his head bemusedly, he turned back to the book in his hands - an early birthday present from Hagrid of all people.

Harry didn't care what Tom said about the man. Hagrid was brilliant - he knew exactly what he'd wanted for his birthday for years; a family, or the next best thing, anyway: a memory of a family. Something tugged inside his chest as he traced his mother's face with his finger, staring into eyes that were so much like his own; just like the statue in Godric's Hollow, the smiling woman in the photograph was incredibly beautiful, her face breathtakingly kind. Maybe, just maybe, he could not help but think, this woman would have loved him unconditionally. No matter what he'd done, she'd still love him. That's what he told himself, anyway.

Sighing, he carefully shut the book. He'd have lots of time to reminisce on what wasn't meant to be, but for now...

"Now, see, I think you both are being entirely unreasonable, and here's why -"

....

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