A/N: Hi Everyone! Haven't uploaded anything in ages, and I deeply apologize. Been kinda busy and I've been free enough to roam to new fics though. I've no idea where this fic will lead to, Snarry or Severitus, no one knows. I will go with the flow. This will start after Fifth Year, after Sirius dies. Please enjoy Give Thee Thou Care.

The emerald boy led a different life once he was picked up at Kings Cross by his Uncle who detested him. This year was no different like the rest, where he would be dumped inside his cupboard. Yes, he had that second room, but only for show. Even then, that dingy little room was hardly worth living in anymore. He missed the cupboard.

Anyone who knew of his true predicament would think him insane. Why would he like such a cramped and dark area which would only cause claustrophobia? It had to do with his childhood. Then, his only friends were the spiders which he could feel scuttling all around him in the dark. He could see them when he was allowed to switch on the Light.

Yes, that Light.

The small bulb that the Dursleys never bothered changing since his first year in there. That small bulb never faded because of his magic being used to sustain it unknowingly.

He never said it. He was always awed by that mystical light bulb, and he always believed that light bulb captured the small sparks of his daddy and mummy and he prayed before he slept in the musty old cupboard. It was his only form of solace, when everything seemed too much to handle. When Uncle would beat him for dripping some water onto the kitchen's marble tiles, when Dudley played Harry-hunting. He would never forget the fear that he had felt then.

Harry laughed mirthlessly at that thought. That fear was nothing compared to what he felt. He was practically living in a fear everyday. Every single night, he would have visions of tortures beyond what he had ever imagined. If he was one for gore, he would have applauded Lucius Malfoy for his inventive methods of interrogation.

But it just made him so vulnerable. He hated it. He hated feeling so helpless, screaming when he woke up, when he could hear the lumbering of his Uncle down the stairs, and the silence coming from him when his ribs were repeatedly stepped upon. Never screamed, never moaned in pain. It made him feel, and he smiled.

He hadn't felt anything since Sirius died. This feeling of exhilaration of harsh panting and broken ribs pressing against his lungs made him laugh out loud. He laughed hysterically.

The stampede on him had ceased. It didn't matter. He continued to laugh, this time trying to rise futilely. He heard faint mutterings of "Crazy freak, that ruddy boy is.". He laughed even louder. He pulled himself out to the front porch and faced the night, laughing.

The sky was overcast and fat droplets of water hit him. They felt like arrows piercing his very being and he continued to smile. He thought he could see his parents smiling and waving at him. He attempted a feeble wave before lying back down. Suddenly, his vision swam as he saw faint red eyes.

He got up despite the exciting aching of his ribs, and clawed his eyes.

"Please, no more...let me off! Go AWAY!" he shouted in a hysterical tone.

Droplets of faint crimson mixed with the faint droplets of rainwater now, but he couldn't see it. All he could see were the red eyes which had narrowed into horrifying slits.

The next day, the Order of the Phoenix's head found one Harry Potter lying spread eagled on the front lawn of 4 Privet Drive, and where brilliant emerald eyes once were, now existed sockets of blood.

"Someone get Severus! Hurry!" shouted Dumbledore, rushing to Harry's side.