If loneliness was blood, he was almost certain he would become a Vampire. Not that people didn't suspect as much of Severus Snape in the first place.
Having grown up with no mother and an abusive father, Severus began his schooling ant Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and left friendless and tormented after seven long years.
Forty-eight and holding his age well, Severus lived for his worked and loathed his job. Spending day after day in the presence of a room full of disrespectful, idiotic midgets was not his ideal way to live the rest of his life. If that wasn't bad enough, becoming a re-established Death Eater didn't exactly hold much hope for a good retirement plan.
No, if there was one thing Severus yearned for when it was too late and out of reach, he wanted a son; someone with whom to correct the grave mistakes of his unforgiving father.
It had been months since Sirius had passed through the veil. That ghostly cloth moved with a draft that did not exist and whispered with voices that were owned by none.
Silence…
A hand escaped the veil and pressed down on the polished floor, pulling its owner along behind it. Another hand joined the first and soon a struggling man followed, crawling his way to freedom.
That familiar dark, messy hair. Could it be..?
The man raised his head, "Sirius?" Then he looked directly up and Harry choked back a cry. Sirius' face was almost completely eaten away, his eyes still holding recognition where his other features failed.
Sirius opened his decomposing mouth, "Why, Harry? Why have you done this to me?"
"No! No!" Harry cried, "Please, Sirius, I'm sorry."
"Sorry?" Sirius came jerkily to his feet, bones cracking, "Isn't it a bit late for that?"
"I didn't mean-"
"Look at me!" Sirius roared, eyes flashing blood red, "You should be where I am!" He went forth, groping for Harry.
Harry found himself truly afraid of his godfather. His words bit deeper than any blade.
"Harry," called an unmistakeable voice, "I can make this all stop. I can bring him back," Voldemort stepped up beside him, casually glancing at the raving, dishevelled man trying to reach Harry. "All you have to do is join me."
"Never!" Harry had gone too far to give up so easily and would be damned if he was going to consider such an option. "You're nothing but a liar and a murderer!"
"Am I?" Voldemort asked suggestively.
Harry frowned, "Yes!"
"When have I lied to you?"
"You can not bring people back from the dead! Nobody can!"
"But I did."
"No, you didn't. You never actually died, but lost your body-"
"I wasn't talking about myself, Harry. I was talking about you."
"Me..?" Harry was confused.
"I killed you when you were a baby, but then I knew that it was a mistake. I should have known the moment that I apparated into the village by Godric's Hollow, but I never would have guessed it of a baby. You see, you are a Mage, Harry. And when one kills a Mage by ordinary means, he pays the ultimate price. You stole the life force out of me and left behind something so weak; so feeble," Voldemort's demeanour changed suddenly, "But I am giving you too much credit. Of course, being dead, you didn't consciously revive yourself…"
"Why are you telling me this?" Harry demanded, unable to take in all of this information at once.
"I want you to know the truth, Harry. I want you to see that everything that meddling, old fool has told you is a lie and that you would be better off at my side."
"Why do you really want me?" Harry asked sceptically, "You want me dead but you want me to ally myself with you. You couldn't possibly want more power… Unless you think I have too much and you consider me a threat."
"Don't fool yourself! You are but an annoying bug that I must swat or convince to be still."
"And we both know that you are itching to swat it, so why the sudden change of heart?" Harry asked bitterly.
"We could be great, you and I-"
"I am great! You are terrible and we would only kill each other if put together." Harry was really wishing that he could wake up already.
"Choose, Harry. Myself and the truth or that lying, old fool," Voldemort smirked.
"Neither. I follow my own path." Harry spoke up defiantly.
"Have it your way. Crucio!"
Harry woke up writhing and screaming on the floor back at Privet Drive. He curled up and held himself tight trying to stop the shaking. He heard the pounding footsteps of his muggle Uncle and tried to gather himself enough to stand.
"What is all of this noise, boy! We normal people have lives to go to in the morning, not that you'd care! Inconsiderate little whelp, I'll put you in your place!" Vernon grabbed Harry by the hair and shoved him out the door and down the stairs, where he opened the door to the cupboard under the stairs.
Just when Harry thought he was about to be thrown into the little cupboard, Vernon did something unexpected. He lifted up the makeshift bed and opened the door to the cellar and sent him down there instead.
Needless to say, Harry was rather shocked to find himself down there, as he hadn't, in all of his years in the cupboard, even imagined there could be a deeper, darker place in his relatives' house.
Harry sat in the corner, nothing but complete black before his eyes. For a long time he could not think straight, other than to vaguely acknowledge that he did not have his glasses and was sitting in the cellar wearing nothing but his pyjama bottoms, since it had been a hot, summer's night.
His last thought before he finally fell into a fitful slumber hours later was 'Happy Birthday, Harry'.
Severus Snape loathed these meetings. Grovelling was certainly not the highlight of his life and neither would he ever wish it upon another… Save for, perhaps, Lucius… No, wait, James Potter! But it was too late for such hopeful thinking and settled for picturing Harry Potter licking the Dark Lord's shoes.
"Severusss!"
He snapped out of his musings, "Yes, My Lord?"
"Your fellow Death Eaters have expressed their concern for loyalties," Voldemort announced casually.
"Yes, My Lord," he forced himself not to roll his eyes by thinking about the amount of pain the Dark Lord would undoubtedly inflict upon him.
"Tell me, Severus. Who are you loyal to?"
"To you and no other, My Lord," Severus grovelled before his master. He almost stopped mid-hem-of-robe-tonguing when he felt something move in his pocket but forced himself not to think about it.
"Have you brought any news of where Potter might be taken during the summer?"
"He will stay with his muggle relatives, My Lord," he answered, keeping his head bowed.
"Will he not visit Diagon Alley?"
"No, My Lord. Dumbledore is taking care of that," Severus forced bitterness into this sentence.
"Have you got any useful information for me at all, Severusss?"
Severus hesitated, thinking fast. What could he possibly tell his master without either relaying useless information or giving away important secrets? "No, My Lord." He waited for the Cruciatus curse, but it didn't come.
"Flamare Ignitas!" flames burst from Voldemort's wand and engulfed Severus.
Harry didn't know how long he had been in the cellar, but he had passed beyond hunger and was feeling ill and weak instead. He didn't have anymore visions but had been woken by pain all over his body not long after he had first fallen asleep.
There was little space to move and though he fell into a daze where time surely passed quicker, he was not released from his prison, nor fed.
After what seemed like an eternity, Harry began to worry about ever getting out. Nobody would find him down there and the Dursley's would probably say that he had run away and leave him to rot for all eternity while Voldemort had a free reign. What if, in his madness, he accepted Voldemort's offer? Harry couldn't bear the thought. He thought of possible ways to kill himself but there didn't seem to be anything down there with him.
Then he remembered what Voldemort had said. That he was a Mage. If that were true, wouldn't he have some sort of special power? But, then, what if the Dark Lord was lying to him?
For lack of anything better to do, Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on getting out of the cellar. Nothing happened. He swallowed with difficulty due to his thirst and tried again and again.
Severus loathed the hospital wing. That was where he had been for the last week. His clothing had been incinerated and with it whatever had been in his pocket.
Needless to say, the Dark Lord had been rather displeased with his progress. Deciding he had spent enough time under the care of that fussing, old witch, Severus slipped out of the hospital wing and headed for his dungeons.
"Out so soon, Severus?"
Severus halted, "I did not intend to take up permanent residence in the hospital wing like Potter."
"Now, now, Severus. You know that young Harry never stays in the hospital wing on his own free will," Dumbledore reprimanded pleasantly.
"Of course," he sneered.
"How are you feeling?"
"Spectacular."
"Splendid, indeed! I was wondering if you would be so kind as to station yourself at Platform 9 ¾ tomorrow morning."
"An entourage of Aurors and six Order members not enough?"
"Alas, it will never be enough to face Voldemort," Dumbledore said with a hint of sadness, "It never is. Goodnight , Severus."
Severus stood and glared at the headmaster's retreating back before proceeding to his beloved dungeons.
The next morning he walked to Hogsmeade before apparating to the Platform. He found a vantage point that had not already been claimed before waiting it out for the next couple of hours. He sighed heavily and folded his arms across his chest.
Two hours later, he could not have been happier to see the train vanishing out of sight, full to the brim with students. He apparated back to Hogsmeade, dreading the next day and having his dungeon filled with Dumbledore's precious brats.
"Ron, have you seen Harry?"
"No, he wasn't on the train but I just thought he was taken to school by Dumbledore or something," Ron shrugged, "You know, for protection and stuff."
"I'm going to tell Dumbledore," and she did just that. Hermione walked up the length of the table to the headmaster. "Professor Dumbledore?"
"Yes, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly.
"Do you know where Harry is? He wasn't on the train."
That was how Severus Snape ended up with the task of fetching Harry Potter.
His head ached and his stomach pained him. Harry tried once more to summon his own magic and blast his way out. Not even aware of whether he was doing it correctly, Harry tried for the one thousandth time to escape. He knew he needed to get out or die trying.
'I am not going to die down here,' he promised himself, 'People need me and I will escape and go back to Hogwarts and then… I WILL destroy Lord Voldemort!' And with these silent words, he tried one last time. With a loud crack, the ceiling came down on him. Harry put his arms over his head to protect himself but his exposed chest and back received a terrible number of cuts and bruises.
"WHAT THE BLOODY DEVIL HAS HAPPENED HERE!" Vernon roared, "YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE DOING MAGIC! LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE!"
Harry's pitiful form crawled out of the pile of debris. Ignoring his Uncle's threats, Harry concentrated on summoning his belongings. They appeared and he whipped out his wand. "Stay away from me or you'll know it!" he warned Vernon.
Harry shrunk his trunk and mounted his broom before taking off at top speed, forcing himself to remain conscious.
Severus did not expect in his wildest fantasies that 4 Privet Drive would be surrounded by muggle police and fire brigades. He did not anticipate the half demolished house or the screaming woman hanging out of the second storey window, hugging a fat boy.
He listened in on a policeman giving a report. "Mr Vernon Dursley claims that his nephew blew up the house and ran away…"
Harry recalled how he and Ron had flown to school in Mr Weasley's car, so he first went to King's Cross Station and from thereon hoped he was going the right way. A few times he almost blanked out but always jerked awake when he almost fell out of the sky.
He didn't know what was driving him but he was determined to get to Hogwarts. He so wanted to tell Dumbledore that he would kill Voldemort with his bare hands that he refused to rest until it was done. Perhaps, and most probably, he was delirious from dehydration and starvation.
Therefore, he did finally see the twinkling lights of Hogwarts in the distance and, eventually, he landed before the great doors. Broom in hand, Harry pushed the heavy Entrance Hall doors open and limped to the Great Hall.
Everyone's heads turned his way as he opened those doors and made a dramatic entrance.
"Expelliarmus!"
Harry's wand flew out of his hand and he looked around, confused. Everyone was staring at him in fear and awe, but not recognition. He saw Ron and Hermione sitting together at Gryffindor table but they made no motion to come to him.
"Who are you and what are your intentions, might I ask?" Dumbledore had walked around the head table was coming toward him without his even noticing.
"What do you mean, Professor? It's me. It's Harry," he croaked back, remembering that he had not had anything to drink for a considerable number of days. He shivered in the cold doorway and wrapped his arms around his bare and bleeding chest.
"Harry?"
"I had to get out, professor! They wouldn't let me out! And Voldemort said I had power so I tried to use it and I tried for so long! It felt like years but I knew I had to get out! Nobody would have found me in there! I was dying and they left me there to rot-" Harry was rambling but everything had finally come crashing down on him and he was collapsed to his knees, breaking down in front of the entire school. He felt like a small child that had just run away from home to the safety of friends. But no, this was his real home and he would never run away from it.
"Harry, calm down-"
"I have to tell you, professor. I have come so far to tell you, but I will do it. I will fulfil the prophecy because I want to." That said, Harry fell blissfully into the realm of darkness.