Harry Potter and the Family Betrayal
Chapter one
"Bond, James Bond." Harry said, looking at himself in the mirror. "Eh. No. How about, Bond, James Bond. " Harry sighed, "Damn Dudley and his 007 movies!" He cursed, and rinsed out his mouth, with water. After washing his face, and cleaning up, he ran back to his room before his Aunt Petunia awoke.
She despised people taking showers before her; they used up all the hot water. Unfortunately for her, the morning was the only time Harry could take a shower, because by the time everyone else had... the water was cold. And Harry was not going to let people push him around any longer.
As he went down stairs, he noticed a new picture of Dudley hanging. Harry wondered when that picture had been taken.
Lucky Harry, Dudley was working for his father at Grunnings during the summer. An internship or sorts. All Harry knew was Dudley was gone all day, all week, and he was pretty much free to do as he pleased. As long as all his chores were done of course, but lately, Harry found a pleasure in doing the chores. Making sure the dishes were sparkling clean, and the draperies free of dust. He even enjoyed being out side, tending to the garden, inhaling the flowers sweet scent.
While he was out working in the backyard, he sat back on his haunches and looked around. Everything thing was so peaceful. Harry hadn't been thinking about school lately, but all of a sudden, he needed to do something for Cedric. He hadn't been thinking of him much, but he had just realized he didn't do anything to celebrate his death, or his life. Harry never went to Cedric's funeral. The feeling that he should be doing something overwhelmed Harry, and he went inside to find supplies.
When he came out again, he was carrying a small wooden toy chest, which belonged to Dudley, some paper, and a pen. Sitting on the patio furniture and thanking Merlin Aunt Petunia was out getting her hair and nails done, Harry started to write.
Cedric,
It's been one month since you past, and I am truly sorry for not being able to save you. Maybe that's a very egotistical thing for me to say, but if I had known what I do know, I never would have let you go. But I wonder if I still would have gone. I wonder if I still would have taken the portkey, knowing it would lead me to Voldemort, and help give him his body. The scar where he took my blood has healed, but still is very red, and sometimes even painful.
I think people expect me to blame myself for what happened to you, and of course I do. But not as everyone suspects. We took the only choice we had. It would not have been fair, for just one of us to take the portkey. If you had gone, you'd still be dead, and your body would not have been returned. If I can smiled about anything that happened that day, it's that I was able to bring your body back to your family.
What's a dead body? A reminder that we are still, mere mortals? Or perhaps, A body with out a life living inside, is truly just one more portkey in this world, leading us into the next.
The more I think about it, the more I truly believe I would have taken the trophy with out you, had I known then what I know now. If only to see my parents again. They died when I was so young. I sometimes I truly believe I would not pass up a chance to see them again, no matter the situation, no matter the cost. It scared me to know this, but its true, and I will not lie.
I've made a promise to myself, in your memory, Cedric. I promise I will never let anyone hold me, down, hold me back, or take away my freedom. Voldemort won't hold me down, and neither will anyone else. I will live my life accordingly, and never let anyone take advantage of me. My aunt and Uncle, they will not tell me what to do. If I choose to do house work, it will be because I want to, not because they'll whoop me if I don't.
Life is short. Yours was too short. I don't want to die a martyr. I don't want to be a casualty of war. I want my death to be something completely unrelated to the wizarding world. Please Cedric, help me find the strength to achieve that goal in the future. In the far far away future.
Sincerely, Harry Potter
Harry sighed, re-read his letter, and then put it in the wooden box. He placed some cut flowers (lilies, roses, and a magnolia) in to the box, and then sealed it. Behind one of the bushes, where he was sure no one would look, be dug a hole, and placed the box inside, before covering it up.
Satisfied, he went back to doing his other garden work.
***
"Where do you think you're going?" Uncle Vernon asked Harry, while he was trying to sneak out the back door. The night was warm, just a bit humid; the sun was setting beyond the trees.
Harry had only been back for 3 weeks. He spent most of that time in his room or doing house work, but at night, he took a walk around the neighborhood, trying to clear his head, and keep focused. "I'm going for a walk, like I do every night."
"Oh no you're not. You are marching right back up to your room and staying there. We are leaving in the morning, and I won't have you messing anything up, like keeping me up later than necessary." Vernon replied.
Harry fought with himself. He could go out and disobey his uncle, or he could lose his freedom of a clear mind for the next 2 weeks. The Dursley's were going on a vacation to New York, and he would be spending his time at Mrs. Figg's. She would never let him out of the house, he was sure. At least, not with out her escort and her being there defeated the purpose of the walk in the first place.
"No, I'm going out. I'll be back soon," Harry replied, and slammed the door. Harry wanted to turn around, and see the shocked expression on his uncle's face, but he didn't want to risk being caught, or yelled at, so he continued on.
As he walked away, he re-iterated the promise he made to himself, the day after he got back from school. "I will not let anyone take my right to anything. Whether it is a walk, to grieve, to sing, or to do my schoolwork, I will not let them take that away." So far, Harry had held steadfast to his promise. He had half of his homework finished, simply because there was nothing else to do. Dudley was at a summer job all day, Petunia, had taken to spending all of her days at friends, and all of her nights, well with friends as well. When she as home, all she and Vernon ever did was fight about Dudley.
Dudley, who had gotten an internship at his father's company, barely had time to be home and bother Harry, let alone eat. He had lost quite a few pounds during the school year, (not that it made him any smaller) and could actually fit into regular Smelting clothes. Harry didn't think he'd been happier to hear Dudley had gotten the internship. It was because of the current arrangements, he was pretty much free to do as he pleased. It was a very nice change of pace.
Harry walked down the familiar streets, watching as the streetlights flickered on. The sun was setting far down; pink and orange clouds dotted the dark blue sky. Kids played hopscotch and jump rope on the opposite side of the street, and Harry smiled to himself. He wished he had memories of playing hopscotch. He almost thought of asking them if he could join, when he realized they were too blocks back, and he was more than 2/3rds done with his walk.
"Hey you!" A voice called out from behind Harry. "You look at me when I talking to you bitch!" Harry had to laugh at that. Some one actually called him a bitch.
"Yeah?" He replied, turning his head slightly, to see who was calling out at him. His paced didn't slow, if nothing else, he started walking faster. He saw three people behind him, trying to catch up. They looked respectable enough. Each one was wearing a polo shirt and khakis. Their hair was slicked back, and the sun bounced of their gelled down hair.
"You Dursley's wizard cousin?" The one in the middle asked, now, just steps behind Harry. Harry stopped and turned around. He recognized these guys. Dudley's friends. The ones that liked to beat him up. Funny, he hadn't realized they still came around.
"Yes I am, actually. May I help you with something?" The only thing going through Harry's mind was, they can't take anything away from me. Not my magic, or my faith, or my freedom. They won't take me.
The shortest one on the right, started rubbing his fists together. "He wanted us to give you a little going away present." His beady brown eyes gleamed in the fading summer light, as he looked over at his friends. They shared the same expression.
"Oh really?" Harry replied, starting to feel a little anxious. He looked around the streets, hoping Mrs. Figg's was close enough. Harry spotted her house, down at the other side of the block he was on. He suddenly wished he was in side, sitting on her pink flowered couch, while two cats sat on his lap, one on his shoulder, and three at his feet. And Harry hated cats! "Well, in that case, why don't you drop it off at the house, I'll be back later to pick it up." With that, Harry strode away as fast as his walking feet would carry him.
It wasn't very far. From behind he was tackled to the ground, a high pitched squeal sounded from one of the boys who hadn't jumped on Harry. Harry tried to gain some leverage, by shrugging them off as much as he could, and suddenly found himself cursing the Magical Ministry for not allowing him to use magic outside of school. Fudge was such a fool!
While Harry was being turned over by giant hands, and a very heavy boot landed in his stomach, just below his ribs. Again and again, the heavy boot fell in the same area, knocking the breath out of him. Harry groaned, and tried to get up when the kicking stopped, but realized, he was being held down. It was then that he truly started struggling because he promised himself he would not let anyone hold him down again!
"This is a daily you thing you know," one of the voices stated from above him. "Every day until Dudley gets back, this is his present to you." Harry vaguely realized that the voice speaking was the one slamming his fist into his face, over and over again, and Harry's head kept snapping backwards. "Ever since he got that job at Grunnings, he's had to leave you mostly alone, but now..." he trailed off.
"Get off me!" Harry cried, struggling even harder to get away. He didn't want to keep thinking about the sick thwack he heard, every time his face was hit. He didn't want to think about the pain that was attacking his nerve system.
"You are a pathetic little wimp," The voice sounded from above him, finally backing off. "If you think this is over, just know: it's never over. It'll follow you everywhere you go. Even school." Harry looked up through his very badly bruised eyes. His glasses had been knocked off during the beating some time.
"Mar... Marcus Flint?" Harry whispered, before he passed out.
***
"What did the boy do this time, Figg?" A male voice grumbled in the kitchen. "You can't just call me here, in the middle of a Muggle neighborhood, and not tell me what's going on."
Mrs. Figg walked slowly into the kitchen, to acknowledge her guest who flooed into the kitchen fireplace.
"He never did anything on purpose, Severus, and he was beaten very badly. He's out cold, and nothing I've been able to do, has worked." She sighed, and leaned against the counter. Her kitchen was decorated in blue wallpaper, with kittens playing over balls of blue, yellow and pink yarn. A window over looked the sink, and out into her backyard, filled with flowers of every kind and color. It was a huge mess of flowers, no pattern, just seeds thrown out into the grass, some bloomed, some didn't and her cats tore down some as well. "I think he fell into a coma, or something. You know I've never been good with healing! Sometimes I wonder why dumbledore even placed me here in the first place."
"You know why," Severus snapped. "Where is he?"
"He's upstairs, second door on your right. I need a drink." Severus stormed past her, and she went further into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey. After pouring two shots, she stood up, rubbed one of her kitty's heads, and followed the dark man up the stairs.
"What did the famous Mr. potter get himself into, this time?" Snape muttered to himself. He checked over Harry's body, felt all the bruising and internal bleeding. He was out like a light.
"He looks horrible, doesn't he?" Arabella spoke from the doorway.
"Yes well, it's much worse than it looks," Snape replied, and started to rummage through his bag. He was looking for something that would control the bleeding, and the swelling. His eyes stopped roving at the mark above his left arm. Softly, a long pale finger traced over the scar. "How does he manage to do this?"
"You really expect me to answer that? You know he never does this on purpose. Lily was a klutz, and so is he. That's all there is to it."
"Don't talk to me about Lily, Arabella." Severus fumed. "Get me some compresses, and..." Severus trailed off, staring at the boy. Harry had woken up, was looking around, out of his healed eyes. They were no longer big black and swollen, but just a little puffy and red.
"Professor?" Harry moaned. "What are you doing here? Where am I? Flint...he..." Harry slummed down in the bed again. He had passed out again.
"Flint? What does he have to do with any of this?" Arabella asked, mostly to herself. "I'm just going to get those compresses." Snape nodded, just barely, his eyes, still trained on the dark-haired boy.
"Flint did this, did he? Well, I guess that just means you are no longer safe at the Dursley's. Should have known, dammit." He muttered, and sauntered over to the window, to look out. It was dark out; the moon was waning, but shining brightly. The sky was speckled with little stars, burning millions of miles away. Severus wondered, to himself, if there was any other choice. But he knew there wasn't.
And for maybe just the second time in his life, he was almost please with the way his life turned out.
***
"Well, look who finally decided to grace us with his presence." Severus said, staring over Harry. Harry's eyes flittered open, trying to block the sunlight. "How you manage to always end up in a sick bed, will never cease to amaze me."
"That makes two of us, sir." Harry replied. "Where am I, and why am I here?"
"You are at my house, Snape Manor." He replied. Harry decided that his professor wanted to say more, but was holding back, trying to make him feel more comfortable.
Harry looked around the room for the first time. He saw shades of cream, and gold. Huge mahogany dresses, and armoires stood to the far opposite of the bed, he was laying in. he looked at the feather down coverlet and noticed a paisley design in a lighter, almost invisible fabric. Light shined in, from floor to ceiling windows, and French doors, which Harry supposed lead out to a balcony of some sort. Obviously, his professor had very good taste.
"Ok, so why am I here?" Harry re-iterated.
"You were beaten pretty badly by some... rather unfortunate people. Arabella found you, but she know nothing about healing, so she called me, and etc." Snapes scowl replied his unusually blank face. "I do not wish you in my house. You will probably just mess everything up. I've worked very hard to rebuild this place, and with you here, it'll probably crumble to the ground."
"Might I have my glasses? I can't see anything." Harry asked, instead of reply to his professor's bait.
"They're on the nightstand, next to you. Get them yourself. I'll have the house elves bring you some food. You should be hungry, right?"
"Thank you, professor." Harry replied. "I would love something to eat." Severus stood up and left Harry alone.
After re-adjusting his glasses, Harry took a better look at the room. The walls were an antique white, with many portraits hanging. They were all buzzing to each other about the boy in the bed. Across from them, were the huge windows, and French doors. In front of one of the windows was a small round breakfast table, with two chairs. A vase of white roses and Lilies sat in the middle. In front of the other window, were to big fluffy beige chairs and one chaise. There was a little table with a Victorian style lamp in the middle.
Harry decided to get up, and go out on to the porch. He found his legs were a little weak, but he managed to make there, just fine. As he pulled open the big carved-glassed doors, his breath caught in his throat. He'd never seen something as magnificent and magical as the gardens that were laid out in front of him. Green, pink, purple, red, blue, orange, and every other color imaginable attacked Harry's senses, the flowers and shrubs laid out in mazes, as the sun shined bright above, the sky dotted with puffy white clouds. It was quite warm out, but a gentle breeze rolled through, shaking the trees that lined the garden. Behind him, Harry heard voices speaking quietly.
"You really ought to be in bed." His professor drawled.
"Thank you for letting me stay here. It's truly magnificent." Harry replied, and turned around. "I suppose you're right though. I should be in bed. I'm a little weak as it is." He sighed, and took a glance at the gardens. "I've never seen anything as beautiful." With that, he slowly made his way past his teacher, and to the table, which a small luncheon was prepared.
Snape stood there, flabbergasted. Did Harry potter not only, take his advice, but say thank you as well?
"While you are here, I'd appreciate it if you'd not break anything, (I'm not Neville, Harry thought inwardly) or... mess anything up-"
"What happened?" Asked Harry, interrupting him.
"what do you mean?"
"You said you just refinished the house. What happened? Did you get bored?" He replied, curiously.
His professor sighed. "The house was attacked many years ago... one the last battles happened here, actually. Afterwards, I spent all my time at Hogwarts, not bothering with the house. But after Voldemort's last defeat, I decided to move back in, seeing as this will be my last year at Hogwarts. I couldn't very well have this place in shambles, now could I?" He said more to himself, than Harry. "I spent the whole of last and this year working on it. The gardens, they are my prize in this gilded cage. Absolutely magnificent."
"Yes, they are."
An awkward silence passed between them. "When you are up to it, you are free to roam the grounds. Just don't break anything. I'd hate for your last year at Hogwarts to be absolutely miserable."
"Me too, professor. Me too."
Chapter one
"Bond, James Bond." Harry said, looking at himself in the mirror. "Eh. No. How about, Bond, James Bond. " Harry sighed, "Damn Dudley and his 007 movies!" He cursed, and rinsed out his mouth, with water. After washing his face, and cleaning up, he ran back to his room before his Aunt Petunia awoke.
She despised people taking showers before her; they used up all the hot water. Unfortunately for her, the morning was the only time Harry could take a shower, because by the time everyone else had... the water was cold. And Harry was not going to let people push him around any longer.
As he went down stairs, he noticed a new picture of Dudley hanging. Harry wondered when that picture had been taken.
Lucky Harry, Dudley was working for his father at Grunnings during the summer. An internship or sorts. All Harry knew was Dudley was gone all day, all week, and he was pretty much free to do as he pleased. As long as all his chores were done of course, but lately, Harry found a pleasure in doing the chores. Making sure the dishes were sparkling clean, and the draperies free of dust. He even enjoyed being out side, tending to the garden, inhaling the flowers sweet scent.
While he was out working in the backyard, he sat back on his haunches and looked around. Everything thing was so peaceful. Harry hadn't been thinking about school lately, but all of a sudden, he needed to do something for Cedric. He hadn't been thinking of him much, but he had just realized he didn't do anything to celebrate his death, or his life. Harry never went to Cedric's funeral. The feeling that he should be doing something overwhelmed Harry, and he went inside to find supplies.
When he came out again, he was carrying a small wooden toy chest, which belonged to Dudley, some paper, and a pen. Sitting on the patio furniture and thanking Merlin Aunt Petunia was out getting her hair and nails done, Harry started to write.
Cedric,
It's been one month since you past, and I am truly sorry for not being able to save you. Maybe that's a very egotistical thing for me to say, but if I had known what I do know, I never would have let you go. But I wonder if I still would have gone. I wonder if I still would have taken the portkey, knowing it would lead me to Voldemort, and help give him his body. The scar where he took my blood has healed, but still is very red, and sometimes even painful.
I think people expect me to blame myself for what happened to you, and of course I do. But not as everyone suspects. We took the only choice we had. It would not have been fair, for just one of us to take the portkey. If you had gone, you'd still be dead, and your body would not have been returned. If I can smiled about anything that happened that day, it's that I was able to bring your body back to your family.
What's a dead body? A reminder that we are still, mere mortals? Or perhaps, A body with out a life living inside, is truly just one more portkey in this world, leading us into the next.
The more I think about it, the more I truly believe I would have taken the trophy with out you, had I known then what I know now. If only to see my parents again. They died when I was so young. I sometimes I truly believe I would not pass up a chance to see them again, no matter the situation, no matter the cost. It scared me to know this, but its true, and I will not lie.
I've made a promise to myself, in your memory, Cedric. I promise I will never let anyone hold me, down, hold me back, or take away my freedom. Voldemort won't hold me down, and neither will anyone else. I will live my life accordingly, and never let anyone take advantage of me. My aunt and Uncle, they will not tell me what to do. If I choose to do house work, it will be because I want to, not because they'll whoop me if I don't.
Life is short. Yours was too short. I don't want to die a martyr. I don't want to be a casualty of war. I want my death to be something completely unrelated to the wizarding world. Please Cedric, help me find the strength to achieve that goal in the future. In the far far away future.
Sincerely, Harry Potter
Harry sighed, re-read his letter, and then put it in the wooden box. He placed some cut flowers (lilies, roses, and a magnolia) in to the box, and then sealed it. Behind one of the bushes, where he was sure no one would look, be dug a hole, and placed the box inside, before covering it up.
Satisfied, he went back to doing his other garden work.
***
"Where do you think you're going?" Uncle Vernon asked Harry, while he was trying to sneak out the back door. The night was warm, just a bit humid; the sun was setting beyond the trees.
Harry had only been back for 3 weeks. He spent most of that time in his room or doing house work, but at night, he took a walk around the neighborhood, trying to clear his head, and keep focused. "I'm going for a walk, like I do every night."
"Oh no you're not. You are marching right back up to your room and staying there. We are leaving in the morning, and I won't have you messing anything up, like keeping me up later than necessary." Vernon replied.
Harry fought with himself. He could go out and disobey his uncle, or he could lose his freedom of a clear mind for the next 2 weeks. The Dursley's were going on a vacation to New York, and he would be spending his time at Mrs. Figg's. She would never let him out of the house, he was sure. At least, not with out her escort and her being there defeated the purpose of the walk in the first place.
"No, I'm going out. I'll be back soon," Harry replied, and slammed the door. Harry wanted to turn around, and see the shocked expression on his uncle's face, but he didn't want to risk being caught, or yelled at, so he continued on.
As he walked away, he re-iterated the promise he made to himself, the day after he got back from school. "I will not let anyone take my right to anything. Whether it is a walk, to grieve, to sing, or to do my schoolwork, I will not let them take that away." So far, Harry had held steadfast to his promise. He had half of his homework finished, simply because there was nothing else to do. Dudley was at a summer job all day, Petunia, had taken to spending all of her days at friends, and all of her nights, well with friends as well. When she as home, all she and Vernon ever did was fight about Dudley.
Dudley, who had gotten an internship at his father's company, barely had time to be home and bother Harry, let alone eat. He had lost quite a few pounds during the school year, (not that it made him any smaller) and could actually fit into regular Smelting clothes. Harry didn't think he'd been happier to hear Dudley had gotten the internship. It was because of the current arrangements, he was pretty much free to do as he pleased. It was a very nice change of pace.
Harry walked down the familiar streets, watching as the streetlights flickered on. The sun was setting far down; pink and orange clouds dotted the dark blue sky. Kids played hopscotch and jump rope on the opposite side of the street, and Harry smiled to himself. He wished he had memories of playing hopscotch. He almost thought of asking them if he could join, when he realized they were too blocks back, and he was more than 2/3rds done with his walk.
"Hey you!" A voice called out from behind Harry. "You look at me when I talking to you bitch!" Harry had to laugh at that. Some one actually called him a bitch.
"Yeah?" He replied, turning his head slightly, to see who was calling out at him. His paced didn't slow, if nothing else, he started walking faster. He saw three people behind him, trying to catch up. They looked respectable enough. Each one was wearing a polo shirt and khakis. Their hair was slicked back, and the sun bounced of their gelled down hair.
"You Dursley's wizard cousin?" The one in the middle asked, now, just steps behind Harry. Harry stopped and turned around. He recognized these guys. Dudley's friends. The ones that liked to beat him up. Funny, he hadn't realized they still came around.
"Yes I am, actually. May I help you with something?" The only thing going through Harry's mind was, they can't take anything away from me. Not my magic, or my faith, or my freedom. They won't take me.
The shortest one on the right, started rubbing his fists together. "He wanted us to give you a little going away present." His beady brown eyes gleamed in the fading summer light, as he looked over at his friends. They shared the same expression.
"Oh really?" Harry replied, starting to feel a little anxious. He looked around the streets, hoping Mrs. Figg's was close enough. Harry spotted her house, down at the other side of the block he was on. He suddenly wished he was in side, sitting on her pink flowered couch, while two cats sat on his lap, one on his shoulder, and three at his feet. And Harry hated cats! "Well, in that case, why don't you drop it off at the house, I'll be back later to pick it up." With that, Harry strode away as fast as his walking feet would carry him.
It wasn't very far. From behind he was tackled to the ground, a high pitched squeal sounded from one of the boys who hadn't jumped on Harry. Harry tried to gain some leverage, by shrugging them off as much as he could, and suddenly found himself cursing the Magical Ministry for not allowing him to use magic outside of school. Fudge was such a fool!
While Harry was being turned over by giant hands, and a very heavy boot landed in his stomach, just below his ribs. Again and again, the heavy boot fell in the same area, knocking the breath out of him. Harry groaned, and tried to get up when the kicking stopped, but realized, he was being held down. It was then that he truly started struggling because he promised himself he would not let anyone hold him down again!
"This is a daily you thing you know," one of the voices stated from above him. "Every day until Dudley gets back, this is his present to you." Harry vaguely realized that the voice speaking was the one slamming his fist into his face, over and over again, and Harry's head kept snapping backwards. "Ever since he got that job at Grunnings, he's had to leave you mostly alone, but now..." he trailed off.
"Get off me!" Harry cried, struggling even harder to get away. He didn't want to keep thinking about the sick thwack he heard, every time his face was hit. He didn't want to think about the pain that was attacking his nerve system.
"You are a pathetic little wimp," The voice sounded from above him, finally backing off. "If you think this is over, just know: it's never over. It'll follow you everywhere you go. Even school." Harry looked up through his very badly bruised eyes. His glasses had been knocked off during the beating some time.
"Mar... Marcus Flint?" Harry whispered, before he passed out.
***
"What did the boy do this time, Figg?" A male voice grumbled in the kitchen. "You can't just call me here, in the middle of a Muggle neighborhood, and not tell me what's going on."
Mrs. Figg walked slowly into the kitchen, to acknowledge her guest who flooed into the kitchen fireplace.
"He never did anything on purpose, Severus, and he was beaten very badly. He's out cold, and nothing I've been able to do, has worked." She sighed, and leaned against the counter. Her kitchen was decorated in blue wallpaper, with kittens playing over balls of blue, yellow and pink yarn. A window over looked the sink, and out into her backyard, filled with flowers of every kind and color. It was a huge mess of flowers, no pattern, just seeds thrown out into the grass, some bloomed, some didn't and her cats tore down some as well. "I think he fell into a coma, or something. You know I've never been good with healing! Sometimes I wonder why dumbledore even placed me here in the first place."
"You know why," Severus snapped. "Where is he?"
"He's upstairs, second door on your right. I need a drink." Severus stormed past her, and she went further into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey. After pouring two shots, she stood up, rubbed one of her kitty's heads, and followed the dark man up the stairs.
"What did the famous Mr. potter get himself into, this time?" Snape muttered to himself. He checked over Harry's body, felt all the bruising and internal bleeding. He was out like a light.
"He looks horrible, doesn't he?" Arabella spoke from the doorway.
"Yes well, it's much worse than it looks," Snape replied, and started to rummage through his bag. He was looking for something that would control the bleeding, and the swelling. His eyes stopped roving at the mark above his left arm. Softly, a long pale finger traced over the scar. "How does he manage to do this?"
"You really expect me to answer that? You know he never does this on purpose. Lily was a klutz, and so is he. That's all there is to it."
"Don't talk to me about Lily, Arabella." Severus fumed. "Get me some compresses, and..." Severus trailed off, staring at the boy. Harry had woken up, was looking around, out of his healed eyes. They were no longer big black and swollen, but just a little puffy and red.
"Professor?" Harry moaned. "What are you doing here? Where am I? Flint...he..." Harry slummed down in the bed again. He had passed out again.
"Flint? What does he have to do with any of this?" Arabella asked, mostly to herself. "I'm just going to get those compresses." Snape nodded, just barely, his eyes, still trained on the dark-haired boy.
"Flint did this, did he? Well, I guess that just means you are no longer safe at the Dursley's. Should have known, dammit." He muttered, and sauntered over to the window, to look out. It was dark out; the moon was waning, but shining brightly. The sky was speckled with little stars, burning millions of miles away. Severus wondered, to himself, if there was any other choice. But he knew there wasn't.
And for maybe just the second time in his life, he was almost please with the way his life turned out.
***
"Well, look who finally decided to grace us with his presence." Severus said, staring over Harry. Harry's eyes flittered open, trying to block the sunlight. "How you manage to always end up in a sick bed, will never cease to amaze me."
"That makes two of us, sir." Harry replied. "Where am I, and why am I here?"
"You are at my house, Snape Manor." He replied. Harry decided that his professor wanted to say more, but was holding back, trying to make him feel more comfortable.
Harry looked around the room for the first time. He saw shades of cream, and gold. Huge mahogany dresses, and armoires stood to the far opposite of the bed, he was laying in. he looked at the feather down coverlet and noticed a paisley design in a lighter, almost invisible fabric. Light shined in, from floor to ceiling windows, and French doors, which Harry supposed lead out to a balcony of some sort. Obviously, his professor had very good taste.
"Ok, so why am I here?" Harry re-iterated.
"You were beaten pretty badly by some... rather unfortunate people. Arabella found you, but she know nothing about healing, so she called me, and etc." Snapes scowl replied his unusually blank face. "I do not wish you in my house. You will probably just mess everything up. I've worked very hard to rebuild this place, and with you here, it'll probably crumble to the ground."
"Might I have my glasses? I can't see anything." Harry asked, instead of reply to his professor's bait.
"They're on the nightstand, next to you. Get them yourself. I'll have the house elves bring you some food. You should be hungry, right?"
"Thank you, professor." Harry replied. "I would love something to eat." Severus stood up and left Harry alone.
After re-adjusting his glasses, Harry took a better look at the room. The walls were an antique white, with many portraits hanging. They were all buzzing to each other about the boy in the bed. Across from them, were the huge windows, and French doors. In front of one of the windows was a small round breakfast table, with two chairs. A vase of white roses and Lilies sat in the middle. In front of the other window, were to big fluffy beige chairs and one chaise. There was a little table with a Victorian style lamp in the middle.
Harry decided to get up, and go out on to the porch. He found his legs were a little weak, but he managed to make there, just fine. As he pulled open the big carved-glassed doors, his breath caught in his throat. He'd never seen something as magnificent and magical as the gardens that were laid out in front of him. Green, pink, purple, red, blue, orange, and every other color imaginable attacked Harry's senses, the flowers and shrubs laid out in mazes, as the sun shined bright above, the sky dotted with puffy white clouds. It was quite warm out, but a gentle breeze rolled through, shaking the trees that lined the garden. Behind him, Harry heard voices speaking quietly.
"You really ought to be in bed." His professor drawled.
"Thank you for letting me stay here. It's truly magnificent." Harry replied, and turned around. "I suppose you're right though. I should be in bed. I'm a little weak as it is." He sighed, and took a glance at the gardens. "I've never seen anything as beautiful." With that, he slowly made his way past his teacher, and to the table, which a small luncheon was prepared.
Snape stood there, flabbergasted. Did Harry potter not only, take his advice, but say thank you as well?
"While you are here, I'd appreciate it if you'd not break anything, (I'm not Neville, Harry thought inwardly) or... mess anything up-"
"What happened?" Asked Harry, interrupting him.
"what do you mean?"
"You said you just refinished the house. What happened? Did you get bored?" He replied, curiously.
His professor sighed. "The house was attacked many years ago... one the last battles happened here, actually. Afterwards, I spent all my time at Hogwarts, not bothering with the house. But after Voldemort's last defeat, I decided to move back in, seeing as this will be my last year at Hogwarts. I couldn't very well have this place in shambles, now could I?" He said more to himself, than Harry. "I spent the whole of last and this year working on it. The gardens, they are my prize in this gilded cage. Absolutely magnificent."
"Yes, they are."
An awkward silence passed between them. "When you are up to it, you are free to roam the grounds. Just don't break anything. I'd hate for your last year at Hogwarts to be absolutely miserable."
"Me too, professor. Me too."
