Just a short little one-shot.
Harry was startled awake by a faint voice. Curled into a protective ball in his cupboard under the stairs, Harry blearily tried to get his bearings. He moved to uncurl himself but as soon as his body even twitched, sharp fiery pains crushed through him. He let out the softest whimper he could and remained as still as possible.
Everything hurt. But at the same time, it didn't. The feeling was fading, leaving him numb and gave him the sense of floating. But that was only if he stayed still. If he moved, everything came back and made him hyperaware of his injuries. Even with his glasses on, his vision was blurred and when he tried to listen to anything, to give him an idea of what had woken him up, it was as if he was listening through cotton.
Swallowing roughly to attempt to sooth his sore through, Harry redoubled his efforts as he heard faint voices.
"…. Rry Pot.."
'Rry Pot?' he thought drowsily to himself. 'What is Rry Pot?'
The voices were to quiet for him to here, but he knew they were close even if they sounded miles away. He blinked a few times as his eyelids grew heavy and sleep was pulling him back into its awaiting arms.
There was a hiss. The distinct hiss of his uncle Vernon when he spoke to Harry about his 'unnaturalness'. That was it. His aunt and uncle must be discussing what to do with what was left of him. They often did that. Even when Harry was around. What would they do if the freak boy got himself killed? But Harry didn't get himself killed. He found it maybe a bit funny that his relatives would actually be the cause of his death.
"Harry Potter?"
This time the voice came a bit more clearly through his fog. And the voice definitely didn't belong to his aunt or uncle. It wasn't Dudley's either. It sounded to Harry like a males voice. It was rough and had a raspy sound to it. It was intimidating to say the least. Not at all the least bit comforting. Did his aunt and uncle know this man? Was he here to 'take care of him'?
Harry let out another whimper and closed his eyes tightly, waiting for the little cupboard door to be thrown open, letting in the bright light from the hallway, and the large forms of his uncle and this man to appear, towering over him as they dragged him away.
"You will tell us where the boy is." Came a silky new voice. "And do not presume to lie. We know he is here. You demise can be held off if for a moment if you speak."
Harry definitely knew that voice. He had spent enough times over the years listening to it degrade him. It was the voice for the hated potions professor, Severus Snape.
'He is a death eater.' Harry thought as he mulled Snape's words over in his head. 'No one from the order would talk like that.'
So that was it. The Death Eaters were here to take him to Voldemort. Or maybe they were here to kill him. His uncle hissed something again before there was a crash and a shriek. His aunt. One of the Death Eaters attacked.
A thought struck Harry. Where was the Order? They had had people trailing him everywhere and the time he actually needed them they where absent. He would be found, broken and dying, or dead, in the cupboard under the stair. Either way, Harry didn't see this going in a good direction for him.
"Where is he muggle!" came the first voice again. "Or this time it will be your pig of a son!"
Why didn't they look in his cupboard? Surely they conducted a search of the house. It was believed that Harry was spoiled beyond measure. Did they just assume that he wouldn't be in this condition? And Why couldn't the sense him here? He read that sometimes wizards and witches could do that so why not them. Weakly, Harry reached out with his best hand and knocked softly on the cupboard door. The noise, which Harry now guessed was coming from the hallway, quieted almost instantly.
"Knock again." Came the deep voice of the first man.
Harry didn't exactly know why he did it in the first place, but he followed the order and tapped softly at the door. His arm fell away, spent of any energy he had left. He thought for a moment that if he was going to die, he might as well be found.
There was a whisper before the lock on the door clicked open. Uncle Vernon had it changed a few summers ago to a key lock so there was no possible way for Harry to get out. The very idea that his uncle thought he could stop him by locking was very funny.
The door was pushed open and Harry, vision still blurry, couldn't make out who was in front of him. Only black and a bright light that burned his eyes. He blinked away the pain and was greeted with the sight of his potions professor in the doorway. Harry, if he had the energy would have laughed at the horror in Snape's eyes as he gazed upon his broken body.
"..i…p'fessr." He managed to slur with the hope of conveying sarcasm.
Snape remained quiet for a moment. "Mr. Potter…. What?" The man was shocked. Harry understood that. He bet he was a right mess.
"… ." Harry said. "N'ver…. Ik'd… me." Harry murmured pulling what he hoped to be a smile upon his face.
Snape grimaced before stooping down closer to Harry. Gently, Snape slipped his arms under Harry's knees and back before he lifted him up and out of the cupboard. Dizzily, Harry took in the faces around him. There was Bellatrix looking much less insane then normal. There was also a man he didn't recognize. He was an animalistic looking man.
Harry relaxed further into Snape's hold, the floating feeling even more intense then it was before. And he was surprisingly warm and there was a fuzzy feeling he couldn't describe.
And then there was a tug behind his navel and the perfectly normal number four Privet Drive melted away into nothing but white.
Snape landed on his feet, thrown off by the boy's slight weight. He felt Fenrir's grip on his shoulder, keeping him from falling. Bella was already pulling the three muggles along as they moved to the front of the room. Snape looked down into the boy's face and felt a wash of sadness. His face was peaceful under all of the blood and grim at was caked to his skin. A wisp of a smile pulled at his lips. Thick lashes curled against the boy's cheeks and Severus knew the green eyes would never open again.
The Death Eaters gathered whispered at the sight of them as they moved toward their lord. Voldemort stood slowly as they neared him and the whispering of the others quieted as they watched.. Bella forced the muggles to their knees and then stomachs before she bowed herself. Fenrir on his other side bowed respectfully.
Snape however, remained standing, still cradling the young boy… young man to his chest.
"Severus." Voldemort started.
"He is dead my lord." Snape said.
"I see." Voldemort's tone was soft as he moved even closer. "Who?"
"He relatives my lord. They left him dying in the cupboard under the stairs."
Voldemort nodded and came to Snape's side to view the body the potion master held. The boy was small. He certainly didn't look his 16 years, rather like 12 or 13 maybe. Blood and grime hid his skin but he assumed it was a soft and child-like as the rest of him appeared. The boy's unruly black hair was plastered to his head, soaked with sweat, blood, and Merlin knew what else. His cloths, if they could be called that, were tatters not even fit for the lowest of prisoner.
This was the light's savior. A small abused boy who had been murdered by his own family. Left to die by those he called friends.
Voldemort raised his wand and waved it lightly over the boy's forms. The blood and dirt vanished and open wounds sealed themselves. He had been right. The creamy pale skin stretched over hallow cheeks looked soft and even with the emaciation, it gave the boy a soft look. With another wave, the tatters were banished and replaced with a simple emerald green shirt and black pants. His feet were left bare.
With a sigh, Voldemort turned back to his seat.
"Take him to the order Severus." He said. "Show them what they have done and what is to come. Bella…. Have fun."
Bella cackled insanely as she pulled the new toys along, out of the meeting room and into her favorite. The dungeons.
Snape held on to Harry as he moved to deliver what was left of the-boy-who-lived.
"I am sorry Lily. Harry." He whispered. "I failed you."
When Harry opened his eyes, it was white. From what he could tell, that was all he was surrounded by. He stepped off of the train gingerly and tried to get an idea of where he was.
"Harry." Came a voice from behind him. "My baby boy."
Harry flung himself around. He took in the red hair and green eyes before he rushed into the open arms that were already waiting for him.
"Mum." He whispered.
"Hello Harry." She whispered while petting his hair and rocking them gently.
Two more pairs of arms encircled to two causing Harry to look up.
"Dad." He whispered. "Siri."
"Welcome home son." He father said with a smile before Sirius ruffled his hair.