According to school rumor Peter's form showed clear damage from long jagged teeth and nails while Sirius had been given the Kiss by the dementors. The official story was both Remus Lupin and Sirius Black had administered their own justice to Peter for his betrayal of them all those years ago. Sirius' body showed slight bruising and a few shallow cuts though overall he had relatively little clear cut damage suggesting that while Peter got a few licks in he hadn't been able to hurt Sirius enough to effect his freedom. It also suggested the cause of his death was the dementors that were suspiciously missing from their posts around the Castle Grounds.
Harry was allowed to recover in the infirmary and deal with the new deaths away from prying eyes and stupid questions for two days before he was summarily teleported back to Privet Drive early as punishment for his attack against Professor Snape. He wasn't expelled but he had been suspended. And even Harry knew that was because he wouldn't change his story to accept all the blame for each little wrongdoing of the night. Hermione and Ronald had the remaining two weeks of school to make sure everyone knew the story of the night though and how Harry Potter had figured into the mess. No one would ever know he hadn't stayed locked down in the infirmary for those two days. Not even Madam Pomfrey knew he had slipped out to go spy on the old man. Or go steal back his map.
Harry had spent the summer thinking and re-examining what he now knew about everything. Reluctantly, he came to the conclusion that the Dursley men were right. He had no friends and never would have any. Ron and Hermione were clearly keeping other students at arms length while they allowed only those they liked or who were most like themselves in their intent to be around him to get close to him. Example; Ginerva but not the twin Weaselys. Just in case Harry see through their charade of friendship by discovering what true friendship was really like. And with the games Dumbledore kept setting up for him every year and the way he was under isolation restriction, Harry didn't have either the time or the heart to try and make any real friends. Not any more. He had tried over and over again and at two different schools in two vastly different worlds. Friends, like family, seemed to be something he was just destined not to have.
His Aunt and Uncle had watched him muddle through things for about two weeks trying their usual bluster and spitting their hatred at him but getting little to no response from him in return. Finally, Petunia had asked him what was going on. He had tried not to tell her, figuring she really didn't want to know since she hated the world of magic so very much and it would be impossible to tell her anything without using terms and words that had long been forbidden in this household. While she might enjoy knowing that world saw him the same way she did, she definitely wouldn't appreciate him using words off her personal forbidden list to tell her.
But she'd insisted one too many times and he'd finally lost control and yelled at her. He was so miserable his temper was too close to the breaking point to prevent it snapping. So he yelled at her as he never had before. Yelled in rage and pain so intense, she'd never experienced the like of it before. He'd stood there in the kitchen, his hands bunched into tight fists at his side and eyes bright with an inner fire that they'd never seen before. Electricity audibly crackled between the spikes and curls of his wild and out-of-control hair shooting off visible sparks as his magic responded to his rage. His body was shaking with the strength of his emotions and the effort he was exerting in trying to keep his control over them, as he yelled and screamed at her. She watched in both awe and terror, finally coming to understand just how repressed he actually was and how very much he was keeping bottled up inside him lest someone do him harm for daring to feel something they didn't believe he should.
Tears had finally broken through his walls to pour from his eyes. But he was unaware as he unleashed over a decade of forced suppression, rage, pain and bitter disappointment. With her. Her family. The neighbors here. His so-called friends. The school. And the world. Harry Potter was angry at and disappointed with everyone. She had simply stood opposite of him and listened to his tale. Not once did she even attempt to interrupt him or discipline him for his language or for yelling and crying, which had long ago been forbidden him in this house.
Honestly, he was so hurt and angry, she could do nothing but listen as he poured out the story of the last three years and all the deaths he felt responsible for just because he existed. Just because the adults had decided he didn't have the right to be alive at all. He told her she should be happy now that she knew the Wizarding World saw him as worthless too. Just like her, they thought his life had no merit and was theirs to waste in any way they saw fit. Just like her, they thought he should've died that night when his parents had died and since he hadn't, he'd no right to complain if they chose to send him in against a madman or two that they didn't want to deal with themselves. Or even a monster or two unprepared and unarmed. After all, who the hell would miss him if he didn't survive whatever they were too damn scared to face themselves? For certain, she sure as hell wouldn't since one of the first things he could ever remember hearing her tell him was to go die somewhere and leave her the hell alone. Hell, she'd probably throw a party if she got a notice he'd died over there. Then go on a vacation just to make sure she'd celebrated the event correctly.
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