Thank you guys for being so patient with me. I hope to get out one chapter every Sunday for you guys. Let me know what you think of the new chapters and how they are written.

I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.

~O~

'Voices? Who are they?' Harry thought, slowly waking up from the unconsciousness that had swam before him only moments before. He hadn't yet opened his eyes, instinct telling him that it wasn't a good idea. The tone of the voices talking around him didn't seem friendly at all. They bounced off of the wall ominously of the room they were in. He could smell the overly clean atmosphere that came with the hospital wing, and the last thing he could remember was Voldemort's spirit pushing itself through his chest. 'How long have I been here?'

"Just leave it be, Severus," he recognized that gentle voice as Dumbledore's. It might have sounded gentle, but young Harry could hear arrogance dripping off of every word. "The end of the year is in a few days, at which time he will go back to the Dursleys."

"Who will spoil him rotten no doubt," Snape's slimy voice slithered into his ears. He had to work very hard to not react to the man's tone of voice. That tone meant he was in trouble for something. What had he done to the man this time? Harry heard Dumbledore laugh, though it wasn't very comforting.

"No, no dear boy. Harry, here, isn't spoiled. Not at all. Quite the opposite really. The Dursleys are good at what I pay them for. Of course, the payments are mostly so that they keep the boy in their custody. Otherwise, he would've been put in an orphanage many years ago. Care for a lemon drop?" the old man asked absently. Harry could only assume that the man had taken that silver tin out that was full of the sour candy. Harry would've rolled his eyes if he hadn't been pretending to be asleep.

"No, thank you, Headmaster," Snape's voice came out guarded this time. Harry almost furrowed his brow in thought before remembering not to move his face.

"Well enough on this dreadful topic, I think. Will you join me in my office for a spot of tea?" the old man asked.

"Not today, headmaster. I can tell the brat is just starting to wake up, so I will help him with his potions. No doubt he will not know how to himself," Snape replied, voice still void of emotions. Harry just wanted both of them to leave.

"Alright, Severus. If you get bored, you know where to find me." With that, Harry could hear the man's footsteps walk away. Both Harry and the potions master waited until the door shut behind the old man before one of them spoke.

"Alright, brat. I know you are up," Snape's voice was much gentler this time. Harry's emerald eyes slowly showed themselves to the world once more. He refused to look up at the man as he sat up in the bed. Instead, he focused his gaze upon the end of his bed. "I will not bite you, Potter. I know you heard our conversation. I thought you were spoiled by those disgusting muggles."

Harry didn't say anything, only reached over to where he knew his glasses were. Uncle Vernon told him that he wasn't allowed to tell anyone what happened there. He would get punished if the man found out he had told. Snape sighed, sitting down on the bed gently next to the boy. Said boy flinched away involuntarily, holding his breath and waiting to be punished for it. He felt a long, slender finger gently pull his chin up.

"Harry, I need to know what they did to you," the professor said. Harry's eyes widened. The professor that hated him called him by his first name. And he wanted to know what his family did. He shook his head, not daring to speak. "I am sorry for this, Harry."

Harry frowned before he lost sight of what was around him. Instead, he found himself in the Dursleys house. He was younger, maybe four years old again. He stood on his stool, making it so that he could actually reach the stove.

"Don't burn anything, freak," Aunt Petunia said firmly, scowling at him.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, not able to pronounce her name yet. It angered her when he didn't say it correctly, so he never bothered to try anymore. He flipped the bacon one more time, before taking it out of the pan to put it on a plate covered in a paper towel, If he didn't, it would be too greasy for their liking. He slipped off of his stool silently before grabbing the plate of bacon and putting it on the table. His footsteps were soundless. He knew that if he made too much noise than he would be punished.

"Boy! Where's my coffee?" an angry voice bellowed as his large uncle walked in the kitchen to eat breakfast. Harry was relieved that the bacon had been the last thing he had needed to finish cooking.

"Ah'm gettin' it now, Uncle Ve'non," he said quietly, turning back the counter to make. "It just finished b'ewing."

"You better had made it right, boy," the man said, following the young one with his beady little black eyes.

"Yes, Sir," he replied, not stopping his actions. After a few moments of going through the routine of making his coffee just the way the man like it, he carefully took it in his hands. He was numb to the burning porcelain under his palms by now. He lifted it carefully up to his uncle, who took it by the handle.

"Now go get my paper, boy," he said gruffly, finally taking his eyes off of his nephew to start on the food in front of him.

"Yes, Sir," Harry said obediently, turning to go get the paper from outside. On the way, out in the hallway, Dudley had just come down the stairs.

"Hey, freak!" he greeted him, shoving the smaller boy into the wall. They both heard a small crack as Harry let out a small cry of pain, immediately reaching up to clutch his right shoulder. It looked out of place and tears threatened to fall from the thin boy's large emerald eyes. Harry gritted his teeth before he pulled on his shoulder with all of his might, popping it back into place. This hadn't been the first time he had had to do it. Dudley watched his cousin in sick fascination before lumbering on with a huge grin on his face, like he had just gotten a new toy.

Harry carried on as if nothing happened, knowing that his uncle would punish him if he took too much longer to get the paper.

The scene changed abruptly. He was older now, perhaps nine.

"Boy! Get out here!" Uncle Vernon shouted from the living room. Harry had been in his little cupboard, not having anything to do. It had been rare, but today was Sunday. Silently, Harry opened his door and soundlessly made his way to where his uncle was almost overflowing out of his small armchair.

"Yes, Sir?" he asked, standing next to the chair and looking towards the floor.

"Your aunt and cousin have left the house for the day. Go clean upstairs. I want it spotless. Then you are to wait in my bedroom, unclothed," he said, not taking his eyes off of the telly.

"Yes, Sir," Harry said before walking off. He knew that he had no choice but to listen. He had learned a long time ago that if he didn't listen to his uncle when he told him to go unclothed, that he would make his punishment rougher.

Every Sunday, Harry's uncle had what he called 'fun' with said boy. He didn't understand why, all he knew was that is was not fun for him. Regardless, the boy went upstairs and started cleaning the rooms. He started with Dudley as that always took the longest. The older boy had toys thrown everywhere, some even broken. Regardless, it took him about an hour to finish Dudley's room. He stripped the blankets off of the bed before heading to the laundry machine. After starting the wash, he checked up on Dudley's second bedroom. It was usually pretty clean, so all he needed to do was dust it. This was the room where all of Dudley's abandoned toys went, though he refused to let them be thrown away.

He dusted the spare bedroom, which only Aunt Marge used, before putting Dudley's blankets in the dryer. He started on the bathroom. Harry didn't mind cleaning, as cleaning kept the Dursleys satisfied. Keeping them satisfied meant that he didn't get punished. He let his thoughts roam to school as he went about the room. He couldn't let himself show how smart he really was. The first report card Harry had ever brought home had been all straight top marks, the smartest in his class. Dudley had thrown a fit that Harry was smarter than him, so Harry was punished. Harry learned that he could never have smarter marks than Dudley.

Just as he had finished the bathroom, the dryer indicated that it had finished its job. It took Harry a few hours before the second floor was finished. When he was done, he headed to his Uncle's room. He took his cousins cast-offs off of his body slowly, carefully folded them and put them on the floor next to the door. He was as naked as the day he was born.

Harry kneeled on the floor to start prepping his body for what was to come. His Uncle never bothered to, so he had learned that he should do it for himself in the few minutes he had before the man came into the room. The pain was unbearable otherwise. Just as he had taken his fingers out of his backside and stood up, his uncle pushed himself into the room.

"Are you ready, boy?" he asked, glee in his perverted, beady little black eyes. Harry nodded.

"Yes, Sir."

Snape pulled back, shock written all over his face. Harry was shaking in terror. His uncle was going to punish him as soon as he found out. And he always found out. Methodically, Snape gave the boy his potions. Neither male knew what to say. Harry had curled into himself, trying to make himself as small as possible.

"Harry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Snape said, pulling the child into his lap. Harry tensed, not knowing what to do. "I will get you out of that house if it is the last thing I do."

Without waiting for a reply, Snape stood up with Harry buried in his robes. Knowing that all of the students were outside on this beautiful day, he didn't mind carrying the child all the way down to the dungeons where he could help the boy. He took long strides through the hallways, not wanting to waste time. He caught Harry's friends standing with their heads together not too far away once he made it down to the entrance hall. Harry's small voice next to his ear prompted him in his next action. "P-Professor?"

"Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger," he called out, keeping his voice civil. They turned in surprise, eyes widening when they spotted Harry being carried in the professor's arms. Before either of them could speak, he continued. "Follow me please."

They both nodded before they followed after him like little ducklings, too in shock to actually say anything. Snape rolled his eyes at their obvious thoughts, glad none of the children could see his face. Harry shivered in his arms as they made it into the cold dungeons. Snape knew there wasn't anything he could do for the boy until they made it to their destination. Eventually, he stopped in front of a portrait of a snake. It was down a hallway next to his office, though hidden from the students. This was the case for nearly all of the teachers, with a few exceptions.

The students gasped when they saw the inside. The walls were all bookshelves, though you could see silver paint between a few gaps in the books. Dark green rugs covered the flooring, keeping warmth in the room. There only seemed to be two doors leading from the comfy living space. Harry could see that one was a small kitchen, and the other was a bathroom. Did the man not have a bedroom, either? Snape sat Harry down on one of the couches, nodding to the other two to sit on the other one.

"Facere ignem," he muttered, pointing his wand towards the fireplace. Despite no logs being there to keep a fire going, one now burned strongly in the hearth. "Now, I am going to cast a few diagnostic spells on you to see what that idiot headmaster did."

"Yes, Sir," Harry said, out of habit than anything else. For once, the two other children said nothing. They only watched on. Snape waved his wand over Harry, muttering spells that none of the other occupants of the room had heard before. A piece of parchment appeared on the coffee table between the couches, where words started to appear. Once Snape was done, he picked the parchment up and started to read it.

His eyes got real wide as he did. Broken bones that had never healed properly, tearing in the rectum multiple times, more than one concussion, and sick enough to need a hospital but that hadn't been treated. That didn't include the magic restraints that had been put on him. Probably by Dumbledore. "You are just a mess inside, Harry."

"What?" the other children finally asked, eyes narrowed in confusion. Ron wasn't happy with Harry's muggle family. His friend never told him in words, but he could tell that they were hurting him. Harry acted afraid and skittish, especially with adults. He always kept the dorm room clean, aside from the laundry. Ron had noticed that Harry also didn't sleep very well, and was always up way before the sun came up.

"Mew!" a cute, little meow interrupted them. They watched as a small cat with fur that looked as red as Ginny's hair hopped up on the couch. She looked up at Harry with almost identical green eyes.

"Hello," he said, politely. The cat started purring and rubbed her head against Harry's arm. The boy let his small hand run down her head to her neck and all the way to her tail. The cat seemed to like him, for she then proceeded to curl up in his lap. Harry smiled down at the cat. The other three smiled upon seeing the sight.

"So, what exactly are we here for Professor?" Ron asked, being blunt as always.

"I am taking him out of Dumbledore's custody," he said. He didn't get a chance to continue as Hermione gasped.

"Why? What's wrong with Headmaster Dumbledore?" she demanded. Snape scowled at her.

"If you didn't interrupt, Ms. Granger, I would tell you," he said. Her cheeks went bright red and she lowered her head in shame. Ron reached over to take her hand, comforting her silently. "The old fool put him with his Aunt and Uncle, which I presume you already know. Yes, he is safe from evil wizards plotting to kill him, however, he is not safe from those damn muggles."

"It takes a lot to be able to take a child from their family," Hermione said quietly, almost to herself.

"Very good, Ms. Granger. While abusers may only go to prison in the muggle world, here it is punishable by death," Snape said. Harry's eyes widened. He didn't want his family to die! Being in trouble was one thing, but death was permanent.

"Bloody hell, that means it must be worse than I thought," Ron said. Harry looked up sharply. Ron looked at him apologetically. "Sorry, mate. Over the year we've come to know each other, I've sort of figured out that your home life wasn't cheery. Just never how far it was."

"It's fine," Harry said quietly.

"Language, Mr. Weasley. It is most certainly not fine, Harry. I will get you out of that damn house if it is the last thing I ever do," he said, looking down at the child. Harry quickly looked away from the professor, not wanting to anger him further.

"Am I interrupting something, Severus?"

All four heads turned to the fireplace to see Mr. Malfoy's head resting there. "Lucius, why don't you come through? I have a favor to ask of you."

Ron's eyes widened. Snape was asking Mr. Malfoy to help?! Why?! Malfoy didn't comment, but simply nodded instead. A moment later the man stepped through, brushing imaginary soot from his pristine silken robes. He looked around at the children in surprise before turning to his friend. What is it that you need help with, old friend?"

"I need your help to take young Harry here away from his current living situation. Preferably, before summer holidays begin," he said. Malfoy rose a perfect, blonde eyebrow and turned his glacial grey eyes to Harry.

"May I ask why that might be necessary?" he asked. In reply, Severus gave the medical report to the other man. Malfoy took it and read it over, eyes widening as he went. "I now see why that course of action might be necessary."

"Yes, Lucius," Snape said, starting to get a little impatient. Malfoy gave a very small smile.

"As it so happens, I have a meeting with Minister Fudge in a few minutes. I could bring up the situation, though would you mind if I take this report for some proof?" Malfoy asked. Snape shook his head.

"Of course," he said, voice smooth. Harry didn't know what to think. Were the Dursleys really that bad? Every kid gets punished when they do bad things, right? That's all it was. Sure, sometimes it hurt quite a lot. But that's what punishment was. It was meant to hurt to get the message across. Right?

Harry barely noticed when Malfoy left, except for the swish of the flames. Ron stood up and walked over to his friend. Sitting next to him, he pulled Harry close to him as the cat hopped down to sit by the fireplace. Harry let his head rest on the boy's shoulder as Ron's arm rested around his back. Hermione smiled at the picture they made before a knock on the door startled the other children.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy. Do come in," Snape said as he answered the door.

"Sev, why am I here?" the boy asked, spotting the Gryffindor trio on the couches.

"We are here because you might have an adopted brother soon," Snape said. Before Malfoy Jr could respond, Malfoy Sr came back in through the fireplace. "Lucius, what did he say?"

"He would like to see Mr. Potter for himself," Malfoy Sr said. Harry tightened his hold on Ron for a moment before looking up at the blonde man.

"Can I trust you?" Harry asked, almost cringing when those grey eyes flicked over to watch him for a moment. Malfoy Sr's face softened as he crouched down to look at Harry eye-level. He put his hand, long and slender like Snape's, against his cheek.

"You tell me, Harry," he said. The black haired teen stretched his magic out like he used to do when he was little. Of course, he didn't know it was magic at the time. His magic let him know a person fairly quickly. It told him if he could trust them, and on what level. His magic had never failed him before.

His magic was telling him now, that the man was trustworthy. He had a loving wife that he doted on at home, a son that he gladly took care of. Though Mr. Malfoy did punish Malfoy when he did something bad, it wasn't nearly on the level that the Dursleys punished him.

"Yes," Harry whispered, reaching out for the man. The man smiled, a side he doesn't show to anyone except his family. He knew that the boy had seen underneath his mask, felt his probing magic. He had, of course, intentionally let it down for the boy to let him see that he wouldn't hurt him. Malfoy Sr took Harry into his arms, standing up properly once more and resting the little boy on his hip with practiced ease from his own son. The boy, however, looked no bigger than an eight-year-old and weighed next to nothing. Malfoy Sr. had to keep a frown back at the realization, and he knew he needed to help the child.

"Alright, Harry. Let's go speak to Minister Fudge," Malfoy Sr said, moving over to the fireplace. "Have you ever traveled by floo powder before?"

"No, Sir," Harry replied, looking down at the man's robes.

"Just hold on tightly to my robes, Harry. We don't need you to fly off out of the wrong gate," he said gently. With his free hand, the man took a handful of silvery powder. He winked at his son before throwing the handful down. "Minister Fudge's office."

Harry felt the fire swirl and green covered his entire vision. His world spun slightly and he gripped onto the soft robes he was holding even tighter. He screwed his eyes shut until everything stopped. He felt Malfoy Sr step forward, and only then did Harry dare to open his eyes once more.

"Ah, Lucius. That was quite fast, my friend," the older man said, standing from his desk. Harry peek up from the robes he had his head buried in to look at the Minister of Magic. He wasn't impressive looking and didn't really scream power. Which was good for Harry, in a way. "Hello, Harry."

"Hello, Sir," Harry responded, not knowing how to act with the man. His little fists clenched slightly tighter into those silk robes.

"Well, let's not diddle daddle. We need to get straight down to business, don't we?" the minister said. Malfoy simply nodded, sitting down in the soft chair that was standing in front of the minister's desk. He placed Harry in his lap, letting him curl up slightly.

Harry tuned the political conversation from his mind until Mr. Malfoy turned to look down at him. "Is that alright Harry?"

"Huh?" Harry asked, looking up at the man in surprise. Then he realized he was asked a question and he didn't know the answer. He hadn't been paying attention. His eyes widened. Was he going to get punished now? Uncle Vernon always took out the belt when he wasn't paying attention. The wounds always managed to get infected, too.

"Harry, calm down," Malfoy Sr said, gently breaking through the panic that was working its way into Harry's mind. "You're not in trouble for anything. I promise. I simply need to know if it is okay if I copy some of your memories down about your home."

Eyes widening, Harry started to panic even more. Why were so many people finding out? He was going to be in so much trouble when he went home. Uncle Vernon would know, he always knew when someone found out. He was going to be punished worse than normal. He knew it. Harry scrunched his eyes up, trying to block the world out. He couldn't breathe anymore. He was shaking in complete terror at what he knew was to come as soon as he got home. What was he going to do? What were they going to do to him?

"-ary! Harry!" Emerald eyes focused slightly and looked up sharply to see concerned grey eyes staring down at him. "Breathe slowly, Harry. I need you to breathe."

Guiding Harry through basic breathing, it took Malfoy Sr a few minutes to get the boy's panic under control. Without permission this time, knowing Harry would most likely panic once more, Malfoy Sr brought his wand slowly to Harry's temple. Harry couldn't hear the words that were muttered under the man's breath, but suddenly he was pulled into more memories.

"Freak! What did I just say to you?" Uncle Vernon asked, making sure his nephew heard him.

"I'm to stay in my cupboard, sir. Making no noise and pretending I don't exist," Little Harry replied, just seven years old.

"Well, what are you still standing here for, boy? Go to your cupboard!" his Uncle almost shouted. Harry nodded quickly.

"Yes, Sir," he said, already moving towards the staircase. He silently slipped into the cupboard, hearing his Uncle slam the lock into place behind him. Alone in the dark. But he was used to it by now.

The scene changed. Harry was slightly younger, maybe five. He was outside, soaking wet from the pouring rain. His Uncle was standing in the doorway to the back door, staring down at him mercilessly.

"Your punishment is to stay out here for the entire night, boy. Put you out like the dog you are," his uncle said before shutting the door and locking it behind him. Harry flinched as the blinds were pulled down, shutting him out completely. Tears threatened to fall from his face, wanting to mix with the rain already soaking him completely. He didn't know when the rain would let up, or even if it would. It was already a chilly fall night to begin with, never mind adding the rain to that.

Harry curled up on the back porch, not knowing what else to. He was already shivering pretty badly, chilled to the bone. After a few minutes, he spotted the shed across the lawn. He got up from his place and slowly made his way over. He was also in pain from the 'fun' Dudley had had earlier in the day. It was going to be a long night.

The scene changed once again. This time it was day, maybe late afternoon. Little five-year-old Harry was in his Uncle's bedroom, naked and kneeling on the floor in front of his Uncle.

"So, boy. Today, you're going to be punished in a new way. I'll enjoy this punishment a lot," the man said. Harry didn't say anything. He didn't know what was happening. What was his Uncle going to do? And why was he naked?

He suddenly found himself being lifted by his hair, not fighting it. If he did fight it, it would only make it worse. Even at a young age, he knew that. His Uncle threw him on the bed, face first. Harry was too afraid to move, even as the large man climbed up after him. He almost shuddered in revulsion as that overly large stomach pushed into his back. He heard the man's zip come down and hands gripped his hips before pain racked his body. The most agonizing pain as his Uncle forced something in his behind. He cried out in pain, causing his Uncle to yank on his hair.

"You will be quiet boy," the man hissed, pleasure overriding his emotions. Harry couldn't speak through the pain, so he simply nodded. He pressed his lips together tightly, trying not to make a sound.

The scene changed again, abruptly this time. Young Harry was eight, and cooking on the stove. This time, he didn't need a stool anymore. Thinking no one was looking, Harry snuck a small piece of the chicken he was cooking. He didn't hear the frying pan coming until right before it hit the back of his head.

"That food is not for you, freak!" his aunt shrieked in his ear. He dazedly stepped away from the stove, reaching up to touch the blood he could feel slowly oozing out of his head. That frying pan was made of cast iron. It hurt. His vision spun, and he couldn't really focus on anything. He vaguely heard his aunt say something before he was picked up and thrown back in his cupboard. He curled up on his little futon in the dark room before the loss of blood quickly overcame him. His vision faded to black.

When the two came out of the memories, Malfoy was too shocked to say anything. Anger coursed through his veins at the horrid scenes he was forced to witness. Fudge put a vial under the man's wand, where a white light was hanging off of the tip. Corking the vial, he cleared his throat awkwardly. He hadn't seen the memories, only Harry and Malfoy had. Finally, after a few moments, Malfoy could speak once more.

"You are not staying with those muggles any longer. Cornelius, go fetch Madam Bones," he said. The minister nodded, knowing by the look on his friends face that he shouldn't argue. Once the man was out of the room, Malfoy wrapped his arms around the boy, pressing him against his chest. "You should have never gone through any of that, Harry. That is not how you punish your children. I promise you."

Harry couldn't say anything, but he frowned. Was what the Dursleys did really that bad? All he knew was the punishments that they gave him, so he assumed that they were normal. The Dursleys prided themselves on being normal. After a few moments, Harry allowed his body to relax into the man. He didn't let any tears come to his face but he allowed himself to relax. He was allowing himself to trust this adult. He just hoped he wasn't making a mistake.

"Mr. Malfoy, what did you need from me?" a woman's voice said from the doorway. The pair looked over to see the strict woman as well as the minister right beside her, nervously wringing his hands together.

"I am asking you to take young Harry Potter away from his muggle relatives. I wish to adopt him. I have proof that he should no longer stay with those disgusting filth," the man said. Madam Bones looked surprised but noticed the vial of memories on the desk in front of the two. She also recognized the mannerisms of the boy currently trying to hide within Malfoy Sr's robes.

"I shall look into it. And rather quickly I suppose. Would I be able to take a DNA sample from the boy?" she asked. She was looking to the child for permission, waiting for him to respond. Harry looked up when no one answered her question. He searched her face, looking for any sign that she would hurt him.

"She won't hurt you, Harry. She helps children all the time, taking care to properly punish the families that abuse their children," Malfoy Sr, said. Harry watched Madam Bones nod.

"I don't put up with nonsense of any kind, Mr. Potter. Especially from those who enjoy abusing others. Let me help you, Harry," the woman said, voice softening at the end. Harry sighed silently before nodding, giving his consent without speaking.

"Thank you, Harry."

~O~