Harry couldn’t believe it. Every Merlin damned Halloween, something had to happen. First year the troll, second, the Chamber was opened, third, Sirius tore up the Fat Lady portrait. Fourth year was actually fairly tame other than a fight in the halls with Malfoy. Ended with both of them in the hospital on Halloween though. Fifth year had been his first detention with Umbitch. Harry absentmindedly rubbed the scar on his hand with that thought. This year Harry was sixteen and the Triwizard Tournament had come to Hogwarts, and it was Halloween and his name just came out of the Goblet of Fire. The fact that he wasn’t of age didn’t seem to make a difference. Neither did the fact he hadn’t placed his name in the goblet or asked anybody to. He still hadn’t moved.
“Harry Potter” rang out yet again from Dumbledore.
Still Harry did not move. Until he felt a push from behind him where Hermione was seated. That jarred him enough to get him moving down the aisle toward the head table of the Great Hall. At first he couldn’t hear anything, but as he walked whispers began to enter his ears. At first, it was just a buzzing, as his mind couldn’t focus. Then words started to reach him. It was his second year all over again. Whispers of him being spoiled, or a cheat, or a dark lord in training all started up within moments. He was tired, so damn tired of being told he was their hero one moment and villivied the next. He was tired of constantly fighting for his life in a place that was supposed to be the safest place in Britain. He was tired of getting sent back to his so called ‘loving’ family every summer. He finally reached the head table. Enough was enough.
“ENOUGH! This is enough. I swear on my parents graves and on all my magic I did not put my name in that cup. Is that enough for all of you?” Harry spun to face the students. “Every year, I come here and in some way or another, everyone decides they have the right to judge me. You all praise me for killing Voldemort. Really, I was one year old. You all celebrate Halloween like it’s not the night I became an orphan.”
“My boy, perhaps…”
Harry froze the Headmaster with a fierce glare.
“And you, you're not even going to try and get me out of this are you? What letting me face Voldemort in both first and second year while standing aside and moving your pawns around like chess pieces isn’t enough? Scared your little weapon isn’t broken enough. Sending me back to those Muggles every summer? KNOWING how they treat me…”
Harry was cut off by a familiar drawl. “Mr. Potter, you will not disrespect…”
“Disrespect, you are going to talk to me about disrespect, Snape. You who were just as abused couldn’t even see what was right in front of you because you would rather see my father instead of me. Do you want to know what that bastard sent me back to every summer? Do you want to see what I have become so good at hiding that not even my two best friends know? Well I am done hiding, and damn the consequences. Now the whole school can know, cause after this I am leaving.”
With that Harry’s magic flared, and suddenly he stood before the entirety of Hogwarts and the representatives of two other schools in nothing but a pair of shorts. His glamours were completely gone. Gasps were heard from around the room. Harry stood there eyes closed for a few moments before he decided to take in the room. First, he sought out Hermione. The girl had stood by his side more than anyone else. He could see tears streaming down her face as she moved to come to him. He stilled her with a minute shake of his head. Then his eyes sought out Ron. He knew Ron had been jealous just moments ago, being one of the loudest to declare his opinion when Harry’s name had been called. Now his, well, friend might now be the right word, but Ron looked particularly green and shame faced.
Severus had been livid when Harry had cut him off. That was until the very next moment. After the flash of magic, the boy standing there was no longer the same. He stared aghast as he took in what he was seeing. The brat, who had been getting close to six feet tall, now stood shorter than his know-it-all friend. Instead of filling out like the other boys, the one in front of him looked like a starved animal. Potter, no Harry, his brain transplanted. Harry was covered in scars, scars that he recognised all to easily. Whipping scars covered the entirety of his back, many curling around to his torso as well. There were the telltale pockmark scars of burns on Harry’s arms, chest, and face. Then Severus noticed the words. Words gruesomely carved across the young man’s back. Starting at the top was the word freak, and under that useless. A much newer scar was carved just above where the shorts sat. One word that caused his heart to sink and he nearly lost his lunch. That word was whore.
“Do you see? Do you all see? This is your savior and all of you, save a small few can go rot in hell for all I care. I am done, I have had enough. I don’t care if I lose my magic, I don’t care if Voldemort wins. I shouldn’t have to rescue you. You have fucking adults to do that for you. Aurors, hit-wizards, Albus bloody fucking Dumbledore, look to them to save you because if Voldemort walked in that door right now, I would surrender on the condition he saved my friends. Beyond that I don’t care. You have all proven yet again that you are not worthy of my help or respect. Kindly fuck off!”
With that Harry shifted into the animagus form he had discovered last year. Everyone in the room was frozen in shock as a rare dusk falcon flew from the room and off into the distance. As if a spell lifted the room descended into chaos. Deep obsidian eyes never left the spot where the falcon disappeared.