So this is my third story ^u^ I wrote it on a whim, AKA boredom in math class. Hope you like it, as it will take me a while to update, juggling two other stories, school and basketball. So if you like it, great! Wait maybe a month or less, no more than a month, until the next update.
~Parseltongue~
Never had he seen someone with so much potential, so much skill. He had simply forgotten his lesson plans and went to retrieve them after dinner: that was when he walked in on him. He was brewing three potions at once, too absorbed in his work to even notice someone had entered the room.
"Potter." An icy voice said behind him. Harry flinched as if he was to get hit or scolded. Snape didn't let this to go unnoticed.
"Sorry, Sir, just let me stabilize these really quick and you can yell, scold, or whatever it is you do." Harry responded, quickly stabilizing the potions. Snape walked up behind him, causing Harry to tense up, and puzzled the elixirs. He was shocked at how high level they were.
"Potter, why are you making NEWT level healing potions when, last I checked, you couldn't even brew a sunblock potion." Snape asked, confused at the third year. Harry didn't seem fazed.
"NEWT? They're not that difficult." Harry unconcernedly said. He finally stabilized the potions and turned around, hiding a wince. Snape didn't notice; he was still examining the potions.
"Potter, what are you doing here? May I remind you that these are NEWT level potions? Skel-A-Grow, Bruise Balm, and Welt Erasers? What the devil do you need those for?" Snape barked. Harry flinched at the tone, yet otherwise remained emotionless.
"I know a guy that needs them. I'm good at potions so I brew them for him. I only act like I can't because you thought lowly of me when we first met, even though you don't know anything but my stereotype." Harry responded, monotoned. Snape glared at him, seeing through the lie, though not completely. He let it go, for now.
"You were absent from the feast." Snape observed.
"I was." Harry acknowledged.
"You missed the announcement. Go to the Headmaster's office, immediately. The password is 'Cockroach Clusters'." Snape ordered, disgusted. Harry sighed, looking longingly at the potions, then standing.
"Yes, sir." He robotically said. Snape watched Harry walk from the room, curiosity bubbling over.
Harry walked begrudgingly to Dumbledore's office. The gargoyle leapt aside as he mumbled the password. The door was open when he walked in.
"Ah, Harry, my dear boy! I see you were absent from the feast. No matter, no matter. Have a seat. Lemon drop? Tea?" Harry shook his head at Dumbledore's cheery suggestions."
"So, what's so important, sir?" Harry asked, already dreading the answer. Dumbledore's cheery face turned grave.
"Everyone is to return home for the Christmas holidays. The dementors are weakening the wards and we have to reinforce them, not only for your own protection but for others as well." He said seriously. Harry mentally sighed as he would need to brew more potions.
"Yes, sir. I'm guessing I can't go to the Burrow?" Harry asked, not really expecting an affirmative answer.
"No, harry, the blood wards need to be reinforced while you're there, as well." Dumbledore mimicked Harry's thoughts. Harry nodded and walked from the office, no further things to be said.
"Great." Harry whispered to himself as he slowly rebuilt his Gryffindor appearance. He walked into the dorm the normal Harry, the Harry everyone knew.
Two days. That's all Harry had before he had to leave to the Dursleys. He was already packed, he just needed to stop by Diagon/Knockturn Alley after the train ride. Which was two days away.
"Dammit." Harry said aloud in Myrtles bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror.
He had removed his glamour to view his battered body. His ribs were poking out at weird places, his arm was bent the wrong way, branded all over his body was the word 'freak', belt and whip marks made his entire body black and blue. His face had a few scars and bruises, a cut here and there. He was way too skinny, his face hollowed, his stomach sunken in. He was just starting to eat regularly again, too, and he had to go back to not eating? "Misery." Was what Harry called it. He carefully washed his face and reapplied the glamour. In a split second the perfect picture of abuse washed away into the Boy-Who-Lived, Gryffindor extraordinar.
Snape's been on his case since he got caught brewing those potions. Just one more day and he could go and buy the potions. Maybe some food, too. Perhaps a shrinkable trunk so he could keep it. He has plenty of money.
One more day.
He was on the ride home. Hermione and Ron were arguing so he wandered by himself. He had found the storage area and huddled in there. It was small and confined, just like his cupboard was. He felt safe for a change.
But he was almost to Hell.
Yay.
Harry got off the train, not saying goodbye or hullo to anyone, all the greetings from his surrogate family falling on deaf ears. He walked outside and dragged his trunk behind him to Diagon Alley. He had altered his glamour a bit, so used to using it, his magic hadn't even left a trace. He walked through Diagon Alley and grabbed his bag; he had gotten it earlier that summer so he didn't have to constantly go back to Gringotts, the bag simply refilled itself.
He walked to the trunk store and bought the best one on the market. It was leather, had multiple compartments (including a potions lab), it shrank by touch, and was invisible to muggles. Harry greedily bough it and transferred his few items into it. Next, he went to Knockturn Alley. Harry kept his hood up and bought potion ingredients (some of which were very illegal) and some books. He also bought healing potions so he could survive the Dursley's, though he did so begrudgingly, he really preferred his own potions. Finally, he headed to Hell, otherwise known as Number Four Privet Drive. As he knocked on the door, he quickly removed his glamour.
"Get in here, boy!" Vernon snapped as Harry arrived on the front step.
"Hello Uncle Vernon." He said politely. He still got slapped for hesitating.
"Go to your cupboard." Vernon said, admiring his hand mark on the boy. Harry gaped at his Uncle.
"My cupboard? What about Dudley's second room?" He asked, confused.
"Since that incident with Marge you got moved back to the cupboard. And don't backtalk me, boy." Vernon growled as he pushed Harry towards the cupboard, hard enough to sprain Harry's ankle. Harry simply ignored the pain and clambered into the cupboard.
He didn't know what day it was. All he knew was the blackness of the cupboard or pain. He wasn't alone anymore, though. Over the summer he had made friends with Suzanne, a garden snake, and she came to visit him. Once she saw how hurt he was, she stayed against his protests. She was Harry's only companion.
Belts, fire, fists, feet, whips, chains. The pain was endless. The potions only did so much. The cupboard was filled top to bottom with Harry's blood (which, by the way, he got a beating for). Suzanne was worried, but Harry had worse.
~I'm worried, snakeling.~ She hissed after a particular bad beating.
~It's okay, it was my fault. I talked back to Uncle Vernon. It's okay Suzanne. I'm almost out of here. ~ Harry hissed back, stroking her head. Suzanne let it go but insisted she go to Hogwarts with him. Harry agreed, not bothering to argue.
Harry awoke to Suzanne's frequent hissing. That, by far, was the worst beating he had ever gotten. All he remembered was white hot, pain. He tested out his limbs as the doorbell rang.
~I'm okay, Sue, really.~ Harry hissed. Suzanne was like a mother to him, even more so than . He heard Vernon's heavily slippered footsteps descend the stairs to the door. Harry already knew not to make any noise, but that beating still hurt! He ignored the talking, assuming it was just another business deal when a sharp, familiar voice cut through.
"I know you have a nephew, . I'd like to see him." Snape coldly ordered.
Harry flinched as his Uncle denied him.
~Suzanne! My teacher is here. Please he can't see me like this.~ Harry hurriedly hissed to the curious snake. She perked up at the word 'teacher'. Harry was frantically digging around for some potions as he was too weak for his glamor right then.
~No, Snakeling, you need help.~ Suzanne hissed as Harry hurriedly tried, and failed, to raise his glamor once more. Harry kept trying, even though all the potions mixed with his system was rendering him useless without a wand.
"Stupefy." Harry heard Snape's irritated voice snap, moments later a large 'thud' echoed throughout the house.
"Shit." Harry said, locking his cupboard. Snape walked up the stairs, looking for any sign of the Boy Wonder living there. He just saw Lily's sister and a baby whale. But he knew Harry was there. He was just about to begin looking in ridiculous places when he heard it; a latch clicked shut. Snape ran downstairs and looked for what could've caused the small lock. He looked every, except the cupboard under the stairs. Surely the famous boy would not be in such an obvious place? When Snape couldn't find him, he decided to check the cupboard, just for the hell of it.
Harry heard the small footsteps descend to his cupboard. Though he was broken, Harry still made an effort to hide and continuously trying to raise his glamour. The lock slowly clicked open and Suzanne's alarmed hissing grew louder. Harry hoped to Merlin he wouldn't be found, trying to make himself as small as possible.
Snape slowly opened the cupboard, hearing frantic, hissing?, inside. He opened the door to reveal the overwhelming smell of blood, potions and human feces. The hissing grew louder, as did the sound of labored breathing and shuffling. A snake appeared level to his face, hissing in a language he did not understand.
"Potter?" Snape whispered in the small room. "Lumos." A light shone on the blood stained cot and a figure wearing rags attempting to hide behind a muggle vacuum.
Harry huddled ever closer, hurting his ribs and hurting breathing. The light shone in his cupboard and wished it would go away. it was too bright. Harry knew Snape saw him, but it was nice to pretend. Suzanne was scolding him and he sighed.
"Hullo, Professor." Harry said, gently taking the angry snake and wrapping her around his neck. She nipped at him.
~Why were you hiding? He found you anyways. You need help, Snakeling.~ Suzanne reprimanded. Harry smiled at her, his chapped lips cracking, revealing fresh blood.
~I'm getting help, Sue. Just calm down, okay?~ Harry hissed, crawling out from behind the cot. He grabbed his trunk under the bed and crawled out completely to meet the Professor.
"How are you, Professor?" Harry said politely, as he dug for his daily potions.
Snape didn't answer. Harry was quite the fright to the eyes. Not a single piece of him was his normally tan skin. Yet, Harry still smiled at Snape.
"Not what you expected? Yeah, I wouldn't of thought so." Harry said good-naturedly, standing up. It was amazing he could stand, his ankle looked broken.
"Christmas is over, Potter. You weren't on the train." Snape managed. Harry nodded, taking this in.
"So I was out longer than I thought. Suzanne, why didn't you tell me!" Harry scolded the snake in English.
~You were hurt, Snakeling! You needed the rest. Now don't be rude to your guest, he's going to help you.~ Suzanne argued happily. Harry huffed.
"Sorry, Professor, where are my manners, would you like some tea?" Harry asked, motioning towards the kitchen and looking pointedly at Suzanne. Snape glared and shook his head.
"We have to leave, Potter. You need Madame Pomfrey." Snape said, apparating them as soon as he said it. He knew it would hurt Harry, but he didn't even take notice of it.
"Pleasant." Harry sarcastically replied to Snape's questioning look. Harry shrugged when Snape raised an eyebrow.
They entered Hogwarts gates and Harry applied his glamour. He was thinking of changing Snapes memory when Suzanne whipped him lightly with her tail.
~You need help.~ She hissed threatingly. Harry sighed and nodded.
"Let's just go to the infirmary, then." Harry said, defeated. They walked in silence. Snape was afraid Harry would fall any minute, though he wouldn't admit to any such thing. Harry was afraid of what was coming. Otherwise, Harry felt fine. He's had worse. Of course, Snape had to bring it up.
"How are you walking?" Snapes normally strict voice was soft for once and held honest curiosity. Harry rolled his eyes, but answered non-the-less.
"I've had worse." Harry shrugged. They would find out soon enough.
They made it to the infirmary and Harry sat on his usual bed. He had carved his initials into the side of the bed from constant boredom from being there so much.
Poppy walked in, a friendly scowl on her face.
"What'd you do this time, Harry?" She asked as she looked him over.
"Sorry to disappoint Poppy, but all I did was exist." Harry smirked. Poppy had a soft spot for Harry and Harry didn't mind at all.
"Potter, remove your glamour." Snape said as he pulled the privacy curtains. Harry sighed.
"Before I do, Poppy, don't freak out." Harry ordered before dropping his glamour.
Poppy gasped and stumbled into a chair.
"Who, no, what did this to you?" Poppy exclaimed.
"Er - my Uncle?" Harry said. Poppy and Snapes eyebrows rose to their hairline.
"I'll get Albus." Snape rushed out, but Harry stopped him.
"Don't. Dumbledore won't help. I've tried to tell him." Harry tried to tell Snape. Snape, although startled by Harry's words, ignored him and went to the floo. Harry growled in frustration as Poppy made him sit back on his bed.
"Now hold still, Mr. Potter." Poppy strictly ordered. She poked and prodded him with her wand.
"Jeez, Poppy! Trying to kill me sooner than needed?" Harry joked. Poppy didn't find it funny, though.
Dumbledore rushed in, Snape right behind. Harry smiled brightly at the two.
"What's wrong with him?" Dumbledore asked, concerned.
"What isn't wrong with me is the question." Harry said cheerfully. Everyone saw through the cheerfulness.
"Harry." Poppy warned.
"Sorry, Sorry." Harry mumbled.
"Well, a broken ankle, the other dislocated, eight broken ribs, burns and brads all over his body, cuts, bruises, welts, a collapsed lung, untreated broken bones, a few missing teeth, severe malnutrition, starvation and dehydration. The list goes on but those are the things I'm concerned of." Poppy counted off as she scanned Harry, who whistled.
"My ankle doesn't hurt that bad." Harry mumbled.
"Remove your shirt and trousers." Poppy and Harry ordered at the same time.
"How'd you know I was going to say that?" Poppy asked as Harry removed his clothing, his back to them. Harry revealed him many injuries. All three adults nearly gasped at what they saw.
Harry was a sight for sore eyes. His entire body had the word 'freak' on him, either cut, branded, burned, what looked like scratches, belt buckle welts, and even a tattoo. His fingers bent at weird angles and his chest popped out in contrast to his sunken torso. His lips were so badly chapped they bled at every movement. His ankle was bent weirdly, yet he could still put pressure on it and that in itself was amazing. His other ankle appeared to be stretched out and merely hung limply. His hair hung long and unwashed, somewhat like dreadlocks. Harry's eyes held pain, confusion, sadness, and fear; they were eyes that have seen too much, they looked so out of place on an innocent child. Harry always feared older men because of his Uncle, he never cared about pain; when he turned eight and started talking about magic, his Uncle couldn't control his mouth so he got a tattoo to constantly remind him of his 'freakishness'. There were large bags under Harry's blackened eyes. His skin was very pale and Suzanne stood in contrast to his skin. Yet, Harry still managed a smirk as his eyes fogged over with memories, then snapping back to the present with a sudden change of attitude and posture.
"Been through this many times." He said gruffly, arrogance shining through his voice. Poppy sighed.
"With whom, Potter?" Snape asked. Harry smirked at his Professor, causing his lips to crack open as he did so.
"Not what you imagined my life would be, Professor?" Harry asked innocently. "I thought I was pigheaded, arrogant, spoiled, even. What happened to that?" Harry asked mock sadly. "And, to answer your question: my Aunt, Uncle, Cousin, ex-friends, ex-teachers, ex-doctor. Many people tried to help me, but they never succeeded. So, long story short, I stopped trying." Harry shrugged, a bit rudely. Everyone looked shocked at his sudden change of attitude; where was the goody-goody Gryffindor?
"Harry?" Dumbledore asked, unsure. Harry looked angrily at him.
"Not my regular attitude is it? No, this is me, me as in normal me. I'm a lot smarter than you seem to believe, I hate my so called friends, I love Moony and Padfoot, and I swear to you, once I get my hands on- that's another story. You all expected less of me, perhaps more. Let me let you in on a little secret: I belonged in Slytherin, but, I outwitted the stupid hat." Harry smirked. Poppy slowly healed him as he talked.
"Take these." She ordered, handing him a few potions. Harry looked at them intently.
"Um, Poppy, if you don't mind, I'd rather take my own." Harry said, handing back the potions. He 'accioed' his trunk and stepped inside, resurfacing a few moments later with potion vials and wearing a silk green robe. He downed them before anyone could ask.
"Ah, flavored truly are the best. Best book I ever threatened for." Harry sighed as he plopped into bed. He closed his eyes as the potions and Poppy's magic slowly washed over him as he healed.
"Harry?" Dumbledore asked. Before Harry could respond, however, he fell asleep. Snape observed the vials and smirked.
"I'll be damned. He knocked himself out." Snape said, identifying the sleeping potion.