Neville made to touch his hand, but took a firm grip of the blankets next to it. "And?"
                              
"She... it was before I got my arms back. She... put her hands on me and I couldn't stop it," Blaise said, not meeting his eyes. His skin grew hot and luckily his dark skin hid his blush.
                              
Neville took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry that happened, Blaise. She had no right to... violate you... like that. No wonder you didn't want to take your potions."
                              
"My mother got rid of her, though, which was so embarrassing," he muttered.
                              
"She's your mother."
                              
"She shouldn't have to protect me," Blaise said, shame in his voice.
                              
"I wish my mother could protect me," Neville said, quietly.
                              
Blaise looked at Neville in horror. "I'm sorry, Neville. I didn't think...."
                              
Neville waved him off, but had some tears coming down his face. "You see... I can rip my heart out, too."
                              
Blaise's mouth opened to respond, but couldn't think of what to say. He hadn't expected his pain to be trumped. He nodded. "Touché." 
                              
Madam Pomfrey stopped anymore conversation between them when she came in to do her morning checks.
                              
"And how are you feeling?" she asked, coming around the front of his bed to the other side.
                              
"Fine," he said, not quite getting his normally intimidating voice back.
                              
"Fine for you, is usually bad," she tutted. "What's hurting?"
                              
"Nothing."
                              
"Nothing? Phh... I don't believe you," she said, shaking her head. 
                              
If there was one person who had any idea what he had gone through, it was her. She would try to get words out of him, but his words were always the same noncommittal words. He never said anything.
                              
"You once came in here once with a dislocated shoulder and three broken ribs and said you were fine."
                              
Blaise curled his lip at that memory. Millicent, the she-bitch, had wrenched his arm out, man-handling, or rather, woman-handling him into position. Then when he complained, she punched him in the gut until he stopped whimpering. Tracey had gotten in her licks, too, amongst other things.
                              
"Just fine, huh?" the matron asked, watching him. 
                              
She didn't say it out of cruelty. No, of all his friends... and family, she tried the hardest to get him to stop his destructive lifestyle. Blaise looked away, again. He couldn't talk about it. He never said no or stop. He had no limits... at least that's what he thought.
                              
She gently lifted his head up. "Tell me what hurts, sweetie."
                              
"My shoulder and my back," he mumbled, tears coming out. He didn't look at Neville.
                              
Madam Pomfrey patted his head and rubbed his arm. "It's okay. I'll take care of it."
                              
The matron spent nearly twenty minutes casting healing charms and checking how everything had healed. Blaise didn't resist her ministrations and followed her instructions, without comment. He felt exposed, humiliated. He was shaking, now. He didn't know what it was from, though. The attack, Tracey, all the abuse, the matron's knowing look or Neville's sad face. He couldn't grasp ahold of that numb feeling. The denial and apathy. 
                              
"Blaise?" she asked, more concerned than he had ever heard. "Are you okay?"
                              
He didn't answer. Neville put his hand on his shoulder and Blaise turned to look him. He needed comfort, but he had no idea how to ask for it. Neville didn't wait for him to figure it out. He wrapped his arms around him, in per violation of their rules, and hugged him tightly. Madam Pomfrey just left, locking the entrance doors and went into her office.