Chapter Three

Harry came around in time to hide his letter before Uncle Vernon arrived, but it didn't lessen the beating much. The owl had left droppings by the (miraculously closed) window, so he was certain his nephew was sending messages to those no good friends of his.

At last, the pain and loss of sleep caught up with Harry, and he lost consciousness.

Far away, in a castle that barely even existed, with all the magic used to hide it, a tall, dark man stalked toward the headmaster's office. He was going to ask Albus to check up on that horrible Potter boy, because the boy had no doubt gone on a rampage upon hearing the news. He may hate Potter, but the child was his. He was responsible for anything Potter did while not in his right mind.

"Albus," Severus said shortly, sweeping into the room. "I have reason to believe Potter may need help."

The headmaster looked up. "What? What do you think has happened?"

"I'd…rather not explain. Just go check on him."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "Alright. Gather what you need and see what's going on."

Snape stared. "What! Headmaster, I can't go! That would be the worst thing for the boy! Send someone else."

Albus contemplated, "Hm. Minerva should go with you, then, and perhaps Flitwick. But you shall go. I think it would be most beneficial to you."

Severus closed his eyes in horror, wishing he had just asked Minerva to go. She wouldn't have wanted him to join her. "Fine. Contact them."

Dumbledore walked over to the fireplace, and, with a few pinches of Floo Powder, the mission began.

"Minerva," Severus stated when they arrived in the entryway. "Filius."

"Severus," Minerva said curtly.

"Sev," squeaked that insanely tiny Charms professor.

With a glare at the nickname, the tall man strode to the doors and flung them open, allowing the group to walk quickly through the grounds and to the apparation point.

"This is the house," McGonagall said.

Flitwick turned to look at her. "Are you sure? They all look the same."

"Of course I'm sure. I dropped him off here, nearly 15 years ago."

Severus looked back at the house, thinking, I'm so going to laugh if we walk in on some newlywed couple who've never heard of Harry Potter.

Of course, they didn't. They wished they had. No, they walked in on Dudley and his parents stuffing themselves, a bloody stick on a hook that looked to have been made specially for that purpose.

"Where is Harry?" McGonagall asked in a low, dangerous voice. It was strange to Severus that those muggles could look at her and hear that voice and not know what she was. Not know what she was capable of if provoked.

"Harry?" the fat man said, "We don't know any Harry. We're good, law abiding people, you - you have no right to - to come bursting in here!"

Minerva whipped out her wand and pointed it straight at the man. "We know Harry is here. You know Harry is here. Tell us where he is. Now."

Severus smiled inwardly. That woman…she was obviously a Gryffindor. Stupid integrity. To h with it. He pulled out his own wand and cursed them mercilessly. And don't you tell anyone it was just a tickling jinx, we can't have Sev losing his reputation, now can we?

"Alright!" the short, even fatter boy cried. "He's in the bedroom! Second door at the top of the stairs!"

Severus smiled coldly and lifted the jinx. The three wizards (sorry, two wizards and a witch), quickly stomped up to the second floor. Well, Severus didn't stomp. He never did anything so frivolous.

When they reached it and found locks to rival those on Severus's potions cupboard, Flitwick glanced at Minerva, then charmed them off. Then he stopped in his tracks. So did Minerva. Severus, who was lurking behind them, just sighed and pushed through, wanting to see (and make snide comments on) the palace Potter surely lived in.

"Er…." He hadn't been expecting this. A tiny room, almost smaller than his potions cupboard, was filled with a bed, a dresser, and a pile of sheets. But there was also blood.

A lot of blood.

The sheets were stained with it, the floor had puddles of it, the bed was covered in it, even the walls had red liquid necessary for life spattered on them.

"Oh my -" McGonagall started.

"Minerva, don't say anything you can't say in front of Potter," Snape interrupted, holding all thoughts from leaking into his voice.

"What? Why?"

"Because I think that's him." Severus nodded at the pile of sheets, which didn't actually look like sheets. Now that he thought about it, they looked more like extremely baggy clothes wrapped around an incredibly small human who seemed to be bleeding rather a lot.

"Oh…." Minerva lost the power of speech and movement, and just clutched the doorway in horror.

Flitwick just gasped and stood there, shell-shocked.

Severus, who seemed to have retained the most sanity of the group, hurried over to his son - no, Potter, and scooped him into his arms. The boy was clutching a piece of paper, and it dropped to the ground when he was lifted. "Filius," Severus said, "Pick that up and let's go. Potter obviously wants it."

Flitwick, his eyes still wide, bent down to get the paper and, finding the loose floorboard under the bed, the things under that, too. Good, he thought, Harry will want his wand.

They went back downstairs, being much more careful than they had been going up, and went outside to apparate directly to the Hospital Wing.

"Take care of Harry," Minerva said, fingering her wand, "I have some…business to take care of."

Severus's inside face broke out in a grin. He had no doubt that the muggles would be in a lot worse shape if he ever saw them again.

"Oh my -" Poppy screamed when Remus and Severus brought Harry into the Hospital Wing.

"Poppy, don't say anything you couldn't say to a student," Severus ordered.

"Is that a student!?" Poppy asked in horror, taking Harry and setting him down gently in a bed before pulling out her wand to assess the damage.

"Yeah," Flitwick squeaked, still shocked, "That's Harry."

Poppy only paused for a moment, her eyebrows shooting up, " Harry?! That's…oh, and he gets stuck in here so often on his own! Poor boy."

Severus was still trying to process this. Harry didn't have a perfect life. He wasn't pampered. He wasn't catered to. He was treated just like Severus had been. He was…beaten. Severus's own son had been beaten. Well, one thing was for sure: that child was never going back to his aunt and uncle. No matter how much they hated each other, Severus could never allow a child to go through that. Certainly not his son.

That was when Severus made a decision similar to the one he'd made at Harry's Sorting. He wasn't going to treat the boy like the Boy-Who-Lived. He was going to treat him like Lily's son. Like his son.

Because that was when Severus started to except that that was true.

Harry didn't wake up until the next day, when Madame Pomfrey was talking to Professor Snape in the other room.

"Severus, it's very bad. He shows signs of having been mistreated in the past. Not in the way of beatings, thankfully but he's very malnourished and his immune system is going to need a lot of repair."

"Well, do what you have to do. I'll have the potion ready for you this evening, and don't worry. The boy will never go back there."

"Ok. Thank you, Severus. And good luck on that potion."

The door opened and Severus walked out. Seeing that Harry was awake and staring at him with wide eyes, he stopped in his tracks and just stood there for a moment. Finally, he turned and stalked out the Hospital Wing door in a manner most would consider normal for him. They would have been wrong.

Madame Pomfrey followed soon after, pushing a cart full of medicines and balms and splints and instruments Harry couldn't believe were legal. She paused at his bedside, her face lighting up. "Harry! Thank goodness you're awake! You had us worried for a while there. Are you feeling better?"

Harry opened his mouth to try to speak, but only a rasping sound came out. He tried again. "Fine," came the high pitched whisper. He coughed, winced, and whispered, "I'm ok. Just really sore."

Madame Pomfrey smiled in sympathy, "I'd imagine. You were in pretty bad shape when Professor Snape brought you in yesterday."

"Snape?" Harry squeaked. Snape saved me from the Dursleys? Oh, this is just great. And he knows! My mom just had to write him a letter too, didn't she?

"Professor Snape, Harry. Yes, he found you. Remus was there too, and Professor McGonagall, but Minerva stayed in Muggle London for a bit after they brought you here."

Harry flopped back on his pillow, his muscles sore from holding him up, and his vocal cords sore from the few words he'd managed.

"You just need to swallow this potion, we'll need to give you this one as a shot, and we'll check your broken bones again. They seem to be healing nicely, but it'll take some time. There are so many I can't heal them with a spell. So open up, Harry, and this should help with the malnourishment."

Harry looked at the vial in horror. He was positive he'd throw up if he so much as tried to drink water, and this potion was sure to be disgusting. However, he opened his mouth and swallowed, wincing at the feel on his throat. He was pleasantly surprised to find that the stuff tasted more like treacle tart than bat droppings, though there was a slight taste like vinegar mixed in.

"There, that wasn't so bad was it? Professor Snape changed the taste for you, because he knows how horrible these things can be on an empty stomach. Or a full one, for that matter."

Snape again. Why can't the man just leave me alone and stop trying to help me all the time?

And with that, Harry fell asleep again.

Severus remained in his private lab all day, working on the potion and thinking. It was strange for him to do both at once, because one of the reasons he loved potions so much was that it didn't require a lot of outside thought.

He was thinking about the reason he was brewing the potion. It was a complicated healing potion that would heal all internal injuries and jump start the bone mending. The thing that puzzled him most was why the boy needed it.

He sighed. Why couldn't the boy have been pampered and spoiled like he'd assumed? Things would be much simpler if he could just leave the child alone and know he was being treated far better than Snape himself could. Then he could hate his son in peace.

However, Severus was not a cruel man, contrary to popular belief. If being Potter…er…Snape…er…that boy's father would keep him away from those awful Muggles, then that's what he'd have to do.

With a decisive nod, Severus threw the yak brains in a full 40 seconds early.

"Da - um…insert bad word here!" He yelled, throwing a small tantrum from his chair. Now he'd have to start all over again with something else, too.