The next month flew by in a flash for Harry as he and the others who had been involved in the attack were forced ad nauseum to retell the story to students who still found it hard to believe that Professor Quirrell had not only attempted to steal something from Hogwarts but had also tried to kill students in his attempt to escape.
Ron seemed to never grow tired of the attention he was receiving and seemed happy to retell the story of how he and Harry had fought against the dark wizard, but Harry had a different emotion coursing through him altogether, shame.
No matter what the others said, Harry felt only shame when he remembered what he had done, and the reason for that was a simple one, he had killed someone; true, it had been in self-defense, but that didn't change the fact that Harry saw himself as a murderer; nor did it make the nightmares go away as almost every night, Harry saw Quirrell as pale and corpse-like and repeatedly telling Harry that he had murdered him; each dream would end with Harry sobbing into his pillow and repeatedly apologizing to anyone who might be listening.
Thanks to his Metamorphmagus abilities, no one had yet noticed Harry's true visage and instead saw him as they usually did, with bright colored hair and a smile perpetually plastered to his face; but once he was alone, Harry would let the illusion slip, showing what he really looked like.
Due to lack of sleep and the chain of guilt that seemed to hang around his neck, Harry's true appearance had become gaunt; dark circles hung under his eyes and he seemed to have lost a great deal of weight from lack of appetite. Even his grades were beginning to suffer, and the Professors had seemed to notice as they repeatedly asked questions that were becoming harder to answer; Professor McGonagall seemed especially suspicious, something that didn't help Harry's predicament.
One day, after a particularly difficult Transfiguration class, Harry found himself leaning over the sink of the boy's bathroom and holding onto the rim with shaky hands, lack of proper nourishment on the boy's part had made him increasingly weak, yet he just couldn't seem to keep anything down.
Slowly, Harry's gaze rose to the mirror and he saw Quirrell's reflection waiting for him, looking just as pale and dead as ever,
"You murdered me, Potter!" Quirrell whispered,
"I'm sorry," Harry said in a broken voice as he drew a shaky breath, "I never meant to kill you."
"Your apologies mean nothing to me, boy! I'm still dead! Because of you!"
"Please…." Harry breathed as tears began to slide down his cheeks, "Please stop…."
"Never!" Quirrell snapped back, "Not until you have paid for what you did to me!"
"Harry?" A voice behind the boy called softly, making Harry spin around in surprise; Dora was standing in the doorway looking horrified at her little brother's appearance, and Harry quickly tried to change his appearance back to what he normally looked like.
Dora's horrified look transformed into one of anger at that, and she quickly stormed over and grabbed Harry's the shoulders of Harry's robe in a tight grip as she kneeled down so that she was level with the boy,
"No! No more illusions! You show me how you really look, and I mean now, mister!"
Under his older sister's stern gaze, Harry sniffed miserably, and his head dropped to his chest; a moment later, Harry's illusion fell away and Dora let out a little gasp of horror as she beheld the state her brother was in.
"My god…." Dora breathed as she took in his appearance, "Harry, what happened to you?"
"I…It's not…." Harry replied, desperately trying to think of something to say as he gazed at his shoes.
"No!" Dora snapped, putting her hand under his chin, and forcing him to look at her, "No more lies! I want the truth, what is wrong with you? Did Quirrell do this before he died? Did he curse you or something?"
At the mention of Quirrell's name, tears began to run down Harry's face, and he quickly threw himself into his big sister's arms, much to her surprise; a moment later, Dora was hugging Harry for all she was worth and gently began to rub his back as Harry sobbed into her chest.
"I'm taking you to see Madam Pomfrey," Dora said simply, "And I don't want any arguments on that point, understand?"
Harry nodded into Dora's chest before pulling away as she stood up and took his hand; a moment later, the two were quickly leaving the bathroom and headed to the Hospital Wing as Harry desperately tried to make the tears stop.
XXXX
Sirius was enjoying afternoon tea with Arthur and Molly as he always did this time of day, when the fireplace suddenly blazed to life and the head of Albus Dumbledore poked through, looking especially grim, which immediately made the adults worry.
"Good afternoon, Albus," Arthur called jovially, "Care to join us for tea?"
"I'm afraid I cannot," Dumbledore said quickly, "I need you three to come to Hogwarts immediately, Harry needs you."
"Is he alright?" Molly demanded, standing up as she began to make ready to leave.
"No, he is not," Dumbledore replied sadly, "And it's my fault that he isn't,"
"What do you mean?" Sirius demanded, "What's wrong with him? Is it Voldemort again?"
"Just hurry, all will be made clear when you arrive," Dumbledore replied sadly before his head disappeared and the fire died down.
Immediately, Sirius stormed to the fireplace, pulled some Floo powder from the vase on the wall, and threw it into the fireplace, calling out in a worried voice,
"Hogwarts!"
Before all three adults stepped in and were gone.
XXXX
"Physically he's fine," Madam Pomfrey stated as she looked across her desk at where Sirius, Arthur, and Molly were sitting, while headmaster Dumbledore stood behind them, "But mentally is another matter entirely."
"What do you mean?" Sirius asked, "Is it a curse?"
"In a way…." Madam Pomfrey said sadly as she gazed out her office window to where Harry was laying; sitting next to him was his family, who were each trying to console the boy after what he had told them.
"Ms. Tonks managed to get the whole story out of him and I am ashamed to say that I never realized what the poor boy was going through," Dumbledore stated in a broken voice,
"Well, what's wrong with him?" Molly demanded, "Someone tell me what is wrong with my son! And why he looks like he's one strong wind away from death!"
"Harry is suffering from what no child should ever suffer from," Madam Pomfrey stated in a hollow voice as Arthur, Sirius, and Molly stared at her in confusion, "He believes that he is responsible for the death of Professor Quirrell and thinks himself a murderer because of it."
Sirius and Arthur went pale instantly, while Molly's hand went to her mouth in horror at what she had just heard, her eyes watering at the pain her son must be going through,
"But….but it's not his fault!" Sirius cried desperately, "It was self-defense!"
"I agree with you, Sirius," Dumbledore replied sadly, "But to an eleven-year-old boy, the line between murder and self-defense is almost non-existent. To young Harry's mind, he is solely responsible for the death of someone, intentional or not."
"According to Mr. Potter, he's been having nightmares nearly every night for the past month and has no appetite as he throws up whatever he consumes," Madam Pomfrey said, looking down at a piece of parchment in front of her, "Which would account for his haggard appearance."
"How has no one noticed?!" Arthur demanded, turning to look at his son who was currently being spoon-fed something by Dora.
"His Metamorphmagus abilities," Madam Pomfrey stated simply, "His ability to alter his appearance has allowed him to give off the illusion that all is well while the truth is anything but."
"Why would he hide this from us?" Sirius asked, "Did he think we would see him differently?"
"Yes," Dumbledore stated simply, making the others turn to look at him, "I believe that Harry believed that you all saw him as he saw himself: a murderer. And the terror of hearing you confirm his fears made him try and hide how ill he truly was; until young Dora finally caught him."
"But…. but that's absurd!" Molly cried, "I would never see him like that! He's my son!"
"Unfortunately, the mind of a child is prone to over-exaggerations such as those," Dumbledore replied sagely, "What seems immaterial to us, is often a point of great anxiety to them."
"What is to be done?" Arthur asked, turning to Madam Pomfrey, "What does he need to get better?"
Madam Pomfrey steepled her fingers and was silent for a moment before answering,
"My recommendation will be to proscribe him 'Draught of Dreamless Sleep' for the foreseeable future to allow the poor boy to finally get some much-needed sleep. But, I also highly recommend that he be taken to a mind healer at the earliest possible moment. The boy needs to talk to someone who can help him understand that he is not to blame and should not feel so.
"It will be done," Sirius stated immediately, "I'll make sure he sees the best one available, cost is no object."
Molly smiled warmly at Sirius' show of altruism as Madam Pomfrey continued to speak,
"Make no mistake, it will not be an easy road for Mr. Potter, it will take time and he will need you all to be there for him. You will most likely have to reassure him when the ideas return that he is a murderer."
The Weasleys paled, and Sirius looked ready to collapse as they all heard how badly they had failed to notice what Harry was going through; without another word, the adults rose and exited the office.
XXXX
Harry sat in a stupor as Dora spoon-fed him some pea soup; after arriving at the Hospital Wing and receiving a thorough examination by Madam Pomfrey, Dora had demanded the truth and under his big sister's stern gaze, Harry found he was unable to lie any longer.
Harry had expected Dora to tell him that she agreed with him, that he WAS a murderer and had killed Quirrell; to Harry's surprise, however, Dora had smacked him upside the head and told him off for being so foolish as to believe that she would think that about him.
She had then climbed into the bed with Harry and held him tight as he sobbed how sorry he was and begged her to forgive him, but she continually reassured him that there was nothing to forgive and that he wasn't a murderer, he was a good kid.
Not long after, the rest of the Weasleys had arrived and similarly consoled Harry about what had been bothering him and repeatedly told him that it wasn't his fault, no matter what he thought.
Fred and George, normally flippant and always ready with a joke, were unusually solemn and instead simply told Harry that they didn't hold him responsible for what happened, he wasn't a killer, and that alone had made Harry sob with happiness.
When Harry's parents and Sirius had arrived, Harry had been too ashamed to look at them and simply stared silently at the floor as they were led into Madam Pomfrey's office where, no doubt, they would be told the ugly truth of what a fool Harry had been.
As Dora spoon-fed him, Harry desperately tried to push the dark thoughts away that were closing in on him; his family's words had helped a lot, but the darkness was still there and Harry was so afraid of it coming to get him again.
A moment later, the office door burst open and the adults poured into the room; Dora had wisely judged the situation and stepped away, taking the bowl of soup with her, as Molly ran to Harry's side and pulled him into a fierce hug, almost immediately, Arthur followed and Harry found himself squished between his parents, while Sirius watched from the end of the bed.
"Mum…." Harry whispered in a hollow voice, "I'm so sorry…."
"Oh, Harry," Molly replied sadly as she pulled away and held his face in her hands, "You have nothing to apologize for, do you understand? Nothing!"
"But I…" Harry began before he was cut off by his mother again,
"Nothing!"
"Your mother's right, Harry," Arthur stated firmly, "You did nothing wrong, son."
"But I murdered Professor Quirrell!" Harry cried, desperate to justify himself, "I'm a murderer…just like Voldemort…."
"NO!" Sirius roared, making everyone turn to him in shock, "You are NOTHING like him! He is a monster who kills for pleasure! You are a good kid who was put in a terrible situation that you should never have been put in and did what you had to do to survive. You two are NOTHING alike, do you understand me, pup?"
Slowly, Harry nodded his head as his parents took him into another hug,
"What happens now?" Harry asked softly,
"Now, we get you the help you need to overcome this," Arthur replied firmly,
"What do you mean?" Harry asked,
"We're going to take you to a mind healer, Prongslet," Sirius replied, "They're specialists who are trained to help wizards and witches overcome problems that they might have, mentally."
"Like a therapist?" Hermione asked,
"Exactly," Dumbledore replied warmly, "And they will help you, Harry, to see that Quirrell's death was not your fault."
Before Harry could say anything else, he was again brought into a tight hug by his parents and both whispered that it wasn't his fault and that they would help him see that; unable to keep the tears back any longer, Harry sobbed out everything he'd been feeling for the past month as his parents held him tight and his family watched, yet no one judged him for it.
XXXX
Hiding by the entrance of the Hospital Wing, Draco Malfoy stared sadly at the boy who used to be his only friend; more than anything, Draco wanted to walk into the room and see how his friend was doing, he looked terrible, and that alone made Draco worry as he had looked fine this morning at breakfast.
"Instead of skulking like a pervert, why don't you go in and say hi," a voice behind him said, making Draco jump in fright; turning quickly, Draco saw that it was his sister Rhea and she was looking at him with a small smile and raised brow.
"You know I can't do that," Draco replied sadly as he turned to look at his former friend again, careful to remain hidden from view,
"Because of what father said?" Rhea asked coolly, sneering as she saw Draco nod sadly, "And you're willing to just throw away the only friend you've ever had because of our father?"
"What other choice do I have?" Draco asked in a broken voice, "He's the head of house Malfoy! If I push him to it, he could disown me or worse!"
"So, what you're saying is that you're a coward," Rhea replied, making Draco turn to her with an enraged look on his face,
"I am NOT a coward!"
"And yet, you choose to hide here, rather than walk in and see how your friend is doing."
"And what about YOU?!" Draco demanded, "What do you think father will do when he learns that you've been disobeying him about associating with Harry?"
"I couldn't care less," Rhea sniffed contemptuously, "I refuse to let others dictate how I live my life. I will decide who I associate with, and I find Mr. Weasley to be a perfect gentleman."
Draco's eyes widened at the comment, and he stared at his sister for a moment in stunned silence,
"You LIKE him, don't you?!"
"Don't be ridiculous," Rhea said quickly as a blush appeared on her face that made Draco stare in shock, "I simply find his company to be enjoyable."
"Father will never allow it!" Draco cried in shock, "The Weasleys are all blood traitors! Father will have kittens if he hears that you like Harry Potter!"
"Then it's a good thing that I don't," Rhea retorted as she leaned down threateningly to stare at Draco, "And perhaps you should concentrate on your own life rather than mine. Harry was your first true friend, and yet you abandoned him at the whim of an arrogant man who claims that we are better for no other reason than blood. If you wish to let others live your life for you, then, by all means, continue the road your on. But don't be surprised when you find yourself alone at the end of it."
Without another word, Rhea strode past Draco and into the Hospital Wing towards Harry's bed; as Draco watched the way his sister spoke to Harry, Draco felt a terrible ache in him; he wanted to be Harry's friend, but the fear he had for his father's wrath was too great for him to overcome; with a final sigh, Draco turned and walked back to his common room, the feeling of loneliness surrounding him.