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I dont own Harry Potter... I just borrowed him for awhile.

Chapter Two:

Harry Bloody Potter

Pulling his coat tighter against himself, Snape mentally cursed himself for being foolish enough to actually come to this park so early in the morning. He rubbed at his face in attempt to keep himself awake. It had been a bad night, consumed by the images that he had been shown by that witch. Jerking awake, his mind twisted by the chaos and death that he saw… That is what dragged him out of bed at the crack dawn, that is what made him swallow the foul hangover potion and that what made him wear these foul muggle clothes and sit on these very cold and uncomfortable benches in the deserted park. Casting a silence and wandless warming charm on himself, Snape huffed as he glanced around the deserted park. Where was that boy? That witch could have told him a time instead of him having to wait here all day. If this was a joke then someone was going to pay… big time.

The little boy that Snape was waiting for was only a few streets away; instead of the spoil arrogant brat Snape was expecting there was a hurt little child. Dragging his tried legs, Harry headed to the only place where he can rest without anyone glaring or shouting at him. He knew he was not welcome here; all the neighbours hated him and thought he was that weird boy that his lovely relatives had to put up with. It was obvious that they did not pay much attention to Harry as anyone could tell what that small child goes through by just his appearance. Even in this bitter cold he did not have a jacket or coat but wore baggy t-shirts and trousers. They buried him alive; the trouser went past his bare feet and had to be held up with a piece of string that Harry had taken from the trash when the Dursely's were not looking.

Harry was cold, hungry and tried but these feelings were nothing new. Last night Harry had prepared the dinner for when Marge comes over today, peeling, scraping and chopping the vegetables, preparing the roast joint, the gravy and baking three types of deserts. All his Aunt had to do was heat it up, as Harry was kicked out without breakfast or even a drink of water. Not knowing what to do Harry sat on the front door step in hop that they might let him back into his warm cupboard but his hopes were dash when the rather large figure of Marge arrived. Sneering at him, Marge made that rat of a dog, Ripper, chase him off for good. Scared Harry ran, pulling himself up when he tripped, twisting his ankle and ripping his only trousers, while the dog snapped at his heels.

Blinking back the tears as Harry walked towards the park, he scolded himself for acting like such a baby. His Aunt and Uncle hate it when he cried, only babies cried not freaks like him. Harry is not a baby; he can look after himself as he always has… He will not cry! Glancing around Harry did not see anyone at the park so he slowly heads over to the benches and scrambles up onto the seat. They are a bit high for him but he can manage it. Curling up like a little kitten, Harry rested his head on his arms as he tries to fight of the cold, the bench was damp from the chill but it was better than nothing. Yawning Harry gently closed his eyes, wishing that Marge was not staying for the whole week. He hated staying at the park for a whole week.

Watching with wide eyes Snape was speechless at the boy that had just entered; surely that boy was not Harry Potter? The spoilt son of James Potter… The cherished Boy Who Lived… The hero of the wizarding world… No, it is impossible. That boy was so small he cannot be six years old, even from here Snape could make the network of bruises across his face and bare skin and what on earth was he wearing? Looking around for any other children Snape signed and slowly stood up. He needed to find out; he needed to know if that was Potter.

Moving slowly as if he did not want to scare away a frighten animal Snape approach the child napping on the bench. With an amused smirk, Snape looked down on the boy that had curled up like a large housecat, basking in the sun. His smirk turned into a frown when he noticed how pale the boys was, the labour breathes and the sweat across his forehead even in this cold. Goosebumps covered his arms as the boys shivered from the cold.

"Boy," said Snape which caused the child to shoot up as if Snape had shocked him. Wide eyes looked around in panic before flickering up to meet Snape's. A gasp escape Snape as those terrified eyes meet his, Lily's eyes…. It was Potter! "What are you-"

Snape never expected Potter to fling himself off the bench, to try and run past in. Recovering quickly from his shock, Snape gripped Potter by his arm as he lifted him so he was sitting on the back of the bench. The child twisted and thrashed in his grip but he could not escape. Missing the quiet moan that escaped Harry's lip as Snape touch his tender arm Snape gripped him more tightly. Biting his lip until it bleeds, Harry begins to tremble as this strange man trapped him between the bench and himself. What did he want? He had done nothing wrong… Maybe Harry was not allowed on the bench, he knows that he not allowed on the sofa but he assumed he was allowed on the benches. Oh God, was he going to be punished? He did not mean to be bad… Tears threaten as he glanced up at the scary stranger.

"What your name boy?" demanded Snape, hoping that he is wrong. Watching in interest as Potter flinched when he said boy. Hmmm, interesting reaction. "Answer me boy."

"Harry Potter Sir," Harry replied so softly and gently that Snape had to strain to hear him. So it was Potter's spawn then…. What the hell has happen to him?

"What are you doing here Potter?" Snape's eyes narrowed as the boy just shrugged his shoulder and refused to meet his eyes. His trembling got worse and Snape had to swallow the snarl that fought to come out. "Where are your shoes and Jackets?... Don't you dare shrug your shoulders."

Freezing in middle shrug Harry looked up fearful. "I-I.. I mean, hmm… I lost them?"

Narrowing his eyes Snape knew something was wrong. It did not take a ravenclaw to figure it out. What should he do?

"S-sir.. I need to go now," whispered Harry, refusing to meet the stranger's eye. When He did not answer Harry looked up quickly, his hope at being let go faded with the scrutinising look the man giving him. " Please Sir."

"Where do you live?"

Harry shuddered at the tone of voice, he knew that tone. It meant obedience; it demanded answers and took all of Harry's resolve not to cry as he answered the question. Why did the man want to know where he lived? NO…. He can't be telling his Uncle on him can he? Anything but that, Harry was going to beg the man not to, plead for him to punish him instead and not to tell him Uncle. Risking looking up Harry's courage faded at the frown on the man's face and begins to tremble so badly that his whole body shakes.

With a new resolve, Snape knew what he had to do, he needed to visit Potter's guardians. What choice did he have? Such a skinny, badly bruised and scared child could only mean one thing and Snape might be a bastard but he would not allow a child to be abused, even the spawn of James Potter. Is this why that witch came to him? Continuous abuse would eventually damage a child's magic and at the very least delay the development of his magical core. Maybe all Snape would have to do his correct his guardians and everything would be fine. Snape was getting ahead of himself, the first thing to do was to call on his guardians and find out actually what had happen.

Slowly, knowing that Potter's eyes were watching him intensely and Snape did not want to scare him anymore then he already was, Snape took off his coat and wrapped it gently around the tiny shivering shoulders. Wide startled eyes look up at Snape and small unsure smile appeared on Harry's face as he snuggled into the coat. Before Potter could react Snape bent down and gently lifted him into his arms. Snape was shocked at how light he was, much too small and light for a six year old. Harry stiffen in the man's man before struggling for all he was worth… He wanted the man to put him down… Now! Panicking as the man tighten his grip and barked out for Harry to stop his struggling, he did the only thing any scared, tired and hungry six year old. He burst into tears, loud sobs that shook his entire body as he tried to beg the man to put him down. All that escape his lips were the wails of distress as pushed against the man's chest with his small palms. The only time someone touch him was when he was in trouble.

Dumbstruck Snape did not know what to do. His experience with children was nothing, what should he do? Tightening his grip on Potter did nothing expect causing his tears to turn into full blown sobs. Bloody Merlin, what should he do? Almost as if walking into a dream Snape was hit by an old memory; a memory from his mother was alive. Arms holding him, rocking him and soothing him. Slowly Snape began to copy the actions of his mother. Rocking bad and forward, Harry froze as the gentle rocking seem to stop him loud wailing. Making gentle hushing noise, Snape began to gently stroke the boy's untidy hair as he carried on his rocking. To Snape's relief it worked as Harry seemed to go limp in his arm, resting his head on Snape's shoulder. His breathe tickled Snape's neck as his breathing still hitched now and again. The tears eventually stopped and only then did Snape begin walking towards number 4 with Harry safely in his arm, wrapped in his coat.

"Please sir, I can't go back.. Not yet, you don't understand."

"It will be alright Harry, I promise."

(line Break)

Briskly walking back to number 4 Snape and Harry did not speak, the young child seem contempt to just rest his head against Snape in complete silence. It was not until they walked up the driveway of number 4 that Harry began trembling again. His fist clutched at Snape's shirt as Snape moved his arms slightly so he could knock on the door. Frowning at how ordinary this house looked Snape signed at such a muggle looking street. Every house was the same, perfectly trimmed lawns, perfectly organised flower beds; all the windows sparkled and not a bit of paint was missing or chipped. It so perfect that it was looked fake; Snape hated it. Preparing himself for the worse, Snape rapped his knuckles against the door.

Listening to a very loud deep voice order someone to answer the door and someone else laughing, a loud horsey laugh that would drive Snape insane if he spent any time in that person's company. By the clashes and bangs that were headed in their direction Snape assumed someone was coming. Nothing could have prepared him for when the door opened, it truly was a blast from the past.

"YOU," shrieked Petunia in the same shrill voice she had when she was a child. "What are you doing here?"

The sight of Petunia at the door had robbed Snape of all his sense momentarily: who would have left Harry with her? Dumbledore, of course. Lucky Snape was a Slytherin, a Slytherin is good at adapting and changing their plan when something unexpected was thrown at them.

"Aren't you going to invite us in?"