After dinner, Professor Fairchild practically shoved Harry into Snape's arms, going on and on about how Harry would prove Snape wrong and how he would need to meet up with him every day. Harry, still dazed from the strange events at dinner, let himself be led to the dungeons by the Potions Master.
Inside the wizard's quarters, Snape rummaged through his desk. Harry looked around. The room was surprisingly much lighter and friendly than he would have expected from the dungeon rooms of his frightening teacher.
"Come here," the man ordered.
Harry approached. Snape had a silver circlet in his hand, which he fastened around Harry's head. It glowed warmly for a moment, tickled, and seemed to melt into his skin. Harry reached up and touched his head. He could find no trace of it.
"There. It worked. Try to cast a spell."
Obediently, Harry took out his wand. "Lumos."
Nothing happened.
"LUMOS!"
Nothing.
Snape nodded in satisfaction. "Still in excellent shape. Now, Potter, the timer is set for three weeks, and only I can remove it before then. I suggest you start reading ahead, because your inability to actually brew will be compensated with the theory you'll be absorbing."
He handed Harry a small book.
"This is a book of all common potions ingredients and how they interact. Start studying it. I will quiz you on it during class."
Harry opened the book, and suddenly noticed something off.
His eye wouldn't open. Reaching up, he gingerly touched it.
"OUCH!"
Snape had to hide his instincts to douse the boy with healing potions immediately when all bruises returned and Potter returned to his shrunken, emaciated form.
"What…what did you do?" the child's voice quivered, "what happened?"
"The inhibitor blocks ALL magic, Potter," Snape said softly, his voice devoid of malice now, "including your astonishing, but utterly useless ability to hide your injuries."
"NO! Take it off, take it off, now, please!"
Harry started grabbing in his hair, trying to find the circlet and rip it out of his head if needs be, but Snape simply took the wrists with unexpected care. Most likely because both wrists looked bruised and so thin they might snap.
"No, I will not remove it."
Suddenly it dawned on Harry. "You – you did it on purpose! You sought out Professor Fairchild…"
"Yes," Snape admitted calmly, "You would not tell Madam Pomfrey and she did not believe me."
Harry looked around in sudden panic. "I – I'll tell them you did it. I didn't have bruises before dinner but I do now after I was alone with you, they'll make you remove…"
"Don't be stupid, Potter. Those bruises, although severe, were clearly inflicted over the course of several weeks. I did not see you before today. Even if that were not the case, Madam Pomfrey has ways of determining the age of any injury."
Suppressing a sob, the boy steadied himself on the desk.
"Do you want to go to the Hospital wing?" Snape asked.
"No," the young wizard muttered, "what does it matter? I have to go back anyway. I know what you are trying, Professor, but it won't help. The Headmaster will send me back next year no matter what."
"When he sees…"
"He knows, alright? He's known all along and doesn't do a thing."
Snape ruthlessly suppressed a sudden flashback to his own childhood years at Hogwarts. Then he shook his head. Surely Dumbledore couldn't be that…callous about the Golden Boy's safety.
"If that's what you want, Potter, go up to your tower, then. Good luck these three weeks. And if I may – take Muggle Studies, Arithmancy and Runes. Muggle Studies won't take much time since you know all the material, Divination is useless and Hagrid will be teaching Care of Magical Creatures this year."
A tired, pained smile crossed the pale face. "That's nice."
"It is," Snape found himself agreeing, "Hagrid is a good man, but his views on what is harmless and what is dangerous are somewhat distorted. I would not take that class if I were you. You can easily read up on the material yourself."
"Please, Professor – take it off," Harry sank down into a chair, "Please. You made your point."
"No, Potter. I will not."
ssssssss
Snape wasn't surprised when Harry didn't make it down to breakfast the next morning. He had, discreetly, asked a House Elf to warn him if the boy was in trouble, but apparently Potter had just chickened out. At lunch he was absent as well, and now the other teachers were worrying a bit about the boy. They'd simply assumed he had slept through breakfast – adolescents were known for their irregular sleeping habits after all.
Dinner rolled around, and a House Elf had been dispatched to inform Mr Potter that he was expected in the Great Hall.
When the boy entered, all conversation died down and gasps were heard from most of the female staff.
"Dear sweet Merlin, child, what happened to you?"
Poppy Pomfrey launched out of her chair, examining Harry thoroughly.
"Bruises, black eye – lost twenty pounds since yesterday…" she looked up in suspicion. "Would you care to explain how the boy suddenly got all injuries you claimed he had, Professor Snape?"
Most other staff members were now shooting dirty looks at the Potions Master until Hagrid stood besides him.
"Sev'rus wouldn't do this to 'Arry," he said calmly, "Dursley do this t'ya, 'Arry?"
Harry hung his head and didn't respond. Poppy cast a spell to heal his eye, but was shocked when it fizzled.
"How on earth is this possible?"
"The inhibitor," Victor Fairchild groaned, "You put the inhibitor on him, Severus."
"That must be it," the Potions Master agreed calmly, ignoring the one – eyed glare Harry gave him.
"The Glamourie you said he had – the injuries…" the nurse muttered, "You have to take the inhibitor off him, Severus, I can't treat him like this."
"No," Snape sat down at the table.
Chaos ensued.
"You wouldn't leave a child like this, would you, Severus? He's HURT!"
"You HAVE to release it. We didn't count on this when we made those plans yesterday."
"I'll cancel the project, I don't want the boy to suffer…"
"The timer on the inhibitor is set to three weeks," Snape interrupted, "until then, I suggest you give him Muggle medicin, Poppy. I also suggest taking pictures and sending them to both Wizarding and Muggle Child Protection Services."
The nurse nodded. "I most certainly will. Come along, Harry."
sssssssss
Harry didn't mind the hospital wing very much this time. The gawking of the staff had unsettled him, and he felt tired. After Madam Pomfrey had brought him dinner, he had slept through the night, aided by the Muggle painkillers she had given him.
The next morning, Albus Dumbledore entered the infirmary.
"Well, Harry, it seems you broke a record. The first student to land in the hospital wing before term even started."
Harry dutifully smiled.
The nurse pulled the Headmaster aside. "Albus, those Muggles must be arrested. He cannot go back to them."
The Headmaster shook his head. "He is safe there, and they are his family. They may not be as kind to them as we would like, but I will not believe they hurt the boy. There must be another explanation. Meanwhile, the fact that he covered them up with magic is impressive, and shows he is indeed very powerful. Perhaps these events are a blessing."
With that, he left the infirmary, leaving a gob smacked nurse behind.
ssssssss
Ron and Hermione had apparently left the feast early to visit Harry in the infirmary.
"The trainride was wicked, mate," Ron said, still a bit paler than usual, "there was a Dementor on the train. It nearly got us, but Professor Lupin woke up and…"
"Lupin?" Harry asked.
"Yes, our new Defense teacher, Professor R.J. Lupin," Hermione answered. So far, she had only been watching Harry in concern.
"The Headmaster said you had an accident, Harry, but that's not true, is it?" she frowned, "your bruises – they have an odd shape…"
Ron creased his eyebrows too, now. "And last year we had to rescue you in Dad's car – did those Dursleys do this?"
" Vernon," Harry muttered, "you wouldn't have seen if it weren't for the bloody inhibitor."
At the raised eyebrows, he told them the entire story.
"..and now Snape refuses to take it off. Soon enough the whole Wizarding world will know pathetic Harry Potter can't even stand up to a Muggle."
He turned around and hid his face in the pillow, ignoring the pain. He just didn't want to see his friends anymore, he didn't want to see anything anymore.
Bloody Snape.
