Disclaimer: I am a brunette, broke and not British.
Warning: Abusive!Dursley, AU/non-canon, Dumbledore!Bashing, Dursley!Bashing, Father!Snape, Kid!Fic
A/N: Finals. Week. Over. HALLELUJAH! Sorry for the late update. Hope you enjoy Chapter 2 (Severus and Harry finally meet!). Please leave me a comment. I need the encouragement, guys!
Chapter 2
The room erupted.
Albus stood, seemingly alarmed at my direction. The women's stream of blather burst like an overflowing dam. They all began talking at once, each trying to speak over the other. Just as Albus looked ready to cast another Silencio, the fireplace blazed and a young woman appeared. White as a sheet, she began incessantly stammering. However, Poppy appeared to recognize the girl and stepped in.
A student, I noted before glancing at the insignia on her robes, A Hufflepuff.
"Bridgette, calm down, and tell me what you are doing here!" her stern voice demanded as she sat the student down.
"H-he ran away," she gasped, "I went to your office j-just for a moment and when I g-got back he wasn't in bed. I looked everywhere a-and he wasn't in the infirmary. And then I-I think he passed out or something, but I don't know. I'm so sorry!" She quivered, dropping her face into her hands. It took only a moment, before the weight of her words was felt. Poppy was the first to react, her matronly ways taking over.
"Where is he?"
"I thought m-maybe he had wandered outside and I when I opened the door h-he was just laying there. A-and s-some other sixth years showed up, then I-I-I-"
Enough had been heard. Poppy dashed to the fireplace, with Madam Bones and I in her wake. Albus and the Figg woman stayed with the girl, evidently trying to calm her.
"Hospital Wing," I enunciated, following the women. Falling into step, I trailed after Poppy who was already racing out of the infirmary. A gaggle of students encircled in front of the doors, their tell-tale robes and prattle giving them away.
"He was unconscious when we found him, Madame Pomfrey," an older boy said, stepping back. The others followed suit, and what they had encircled was exposed.
In more ways than one.
"This is not Lily's child," I gasped.
It was barely a child. The creature looked more like a carcass than a boy. Swallowed in an infirmary gown, there was barely anything left of him. Every bone seemed to jut out. Every inch of skin was burnt or bruised. Every limb appeared no thicker than a broom handle. Remains of bandages limply hung to his arm and face, as if they had been yanked at, unmistakably swollen from being fractured or broken.
The longer I stared, the worse the child appeared to be.
"Severus, we need to move him," Poppy snapped, her wand never stopped waving and flourishing over the boy. The bandages re-wrapped themselves and another set swathed his head once more.
"Severus, levitate him to my office, and mind his head. The rest of you, go back to your common rooms," she ordered, "Now, Severus!"
Her office, adjacent to the hospital wing, could not have been more than four meters away, but every step with the child under my wand seemed like a league. Two cots were tucked at the back of her office, behind a row of shelves. Being careful as ordered, I slowly released the levitation spell, placing the boy on the nearest bed. Only a moment passed and the pillow, cotton white, was suddenly stained red.
"Poppy!" I shouted, noticing the bandage on his head was soaking with blood.
She bustled in, wand still drawn with the ministry woman now in tow. I had not noticed her absence, but Madam Bones appeared behind the nurse with an armful of jars and bottles. Blood-Replenishing Potion, my mind uselessly supplied, Brain Elixer, Draught of Peace, Essence of Dittany, Swelling Solution, Calming Draught. One by one, the women exchanged bottles, their conversation lost on me. I could see their mouths moving but could not understand a word they spoke. And they child only seemed to get worse. His bandages did not seem to serve any purpose. The boy's blood spilled like an uncapped inkbottle onto parchment.
So much blood.
"Tergeo." The blood slowly siphoned away from his wound and the pillow. Said wound was a deep gash at the base of his skull. As if he had fallen onto something. Just as the last drop left the oozing open cut, Poppy pulled a small bottle from the collection Madam Bones had placed on the nearby table. With dropper in hand Poppy expertly drizzled salve across the damaged skin, the telltale scent of Dittany filling the air.
"Anapneo." Poppy propped the boy's head up, grabbing a bottle with maroon-colored fluid. The cork pulled, she aligned the mouth of the potion bottle to the boy's. Tilting his head back, she helped him swallow the no doubt sour Blood-Replenishing potion. She followed it with a vial of turquoise-blue syrup.
"Draught of Peace?" I asked finally finding voice. Knowing the potency the potion possessed, it did not seem appropriate. He was a child after all, practically an infant by the looks of him.
"He will be scared when he wakes up, Severus," she sighed, checking his vitals with a wave of her wand, "Besides, he's already had several doses of a half a dozen other potions. A little bout of Peace will not hurt him."
"He's a child, Poppy!"
"Yes, who has undergone very serious injuries, internally and externally," she snapped, removing the boy's head from her lap and returned it to the pillow.
"You don't mean-" My thoughts immediately took a turn to the worse, coupled with the remembrance of the women's earlier squabble.
Her very own flesh and blood, never seen anything of the sort, not this extreme.
It's that family of his, if you can even call them that.
It seems Harry can no longer remain with his relatives.
"No," she coughed uneasily, turning away to grab a blanket from the other bed, "It seems his relative's cruelty consisted only of neglect and physical abuse."
"Relatives?"
"His relatives," Madame Bones cut in, abruptly appearing yet again, "who were not his designated caregivers, consisted of his Mother's sister, her husband and their own child. An investigation is already underway."
"Petunia?" It had been years since I had thought of Lily's sister. I remember she had never liked how Lily had been a part of the magic world, a world she was not allowed into. I especially recalled her deep disdain for me, since she felt I had played a part in her own sister's resolve to exclude her.
How in Merlin's name had Lily's child ended up with that woman?
Just as I was ready to ask, shouts exploded from the infirmary. Bellows for 'Madam Pomfrey' ruined the well-merited silence as a throng of students flurried in. The exact same moment a bright silver form in the shape of a phoenix appeared and flew to Madam Bones, swooping around her.
Merlin, would it kill Albus to act like a normal wizard and simply use the Floo Network instead of sending his damn Patronus?
"Ah, excuse me, the Headmaster," Madam Bones pardoned herself, walking back towards the fireplace.
"Oh. Severus, please sit with the boy. I will be back shortly," Poppy huffed as she followed the ministry official and trotted out, going to tend to the students. Before I could object, the mediwitch was out the door mumbling about the senselessness of Quidditch.
Suddenly alone with the child, insecurity and worry swarmed. Coupled with feeling the aftereffects of such an ordeal, I reached for the unused Calming Draught. Poppy had seemed to have things under control with the child, defusing a seemingly fatal situation. What on earth did I know about children? Let alone, the most infamous child in wizarding history? To top that, a child who had suffered extreme abuse at the hands of his own bloody relatives? What would he think of a complete stranger claiming to be his guardian? Could he even understand any of it? Sighing, I dropped my head into my hands. I glanced at the boy.
I have to stop calling him that.
Harry. His name was Harry. Lily's son was Harry. He was Harry. For the first time, I looked at Harry. Really looked at him, not as a child but as my child to raise if I chose to take him. Could I even raise him? Could I provide for him everything he needed? Could I possibly repair the damage he had suffered? Could I even help him by any means?
How could one so small survive such loathsomeness?
Hand-shaped bruises stained sunburned skin along his face and neck. Similar bruises trailed out of sight obscured by the robe. His collarbone protruded so far, I was sure his ribs were just as bad. Strokes of scars and cuts, all in various stages of healing, discolored stick-thin arms. It did not seem the child had ever had a decent meal, he was so small. I suddenly noticed the empty jars and bottles on Poppy's desk - Calming Draught, Bitterroot Balm, Mutrlap Essence, Fungus Budge-
He's already had several doses of a half a dozen other potions.
I turned away, unable to comprehend why so many potions had to be used. Not just used, but depleted.
"Oh child, what I am going to do with you?" I whispered.
Harry suddenly stirred, his too-thin face pinched in pain. A small hand shot forward, seizing the sleeve of my robe. Fingers appeared as sturdy as quill barrels and just as slight. Still, Harry's grip was strong. His knuckles turned white as they held on, so stark in contrast against my black robes.
"M'feh…M'fig…Mus'fig" he mumbled, furrows creasing his small forehead.
Looking out the door, I saw Poppy was still busy with her students. I awkwardly moved closer, in hopes of comforting him as it seemed the job had fallen to me. I placed my free hand upon his forearm, but he just cried out. Quickly removing my hand, I resorted to what I hoped would be words of reassurance. Nevertheless, his grip on my robe sleeve remained.
"Ah. It is alright, Harry. You are safe now," I tried not to let my voice shake, completely thrown off, "You are at a school. You are safe now." It did not seem to do any good. Somehow, his grip tightened, bunching up the heavy fabric of my robes. His mouth opened in a silent cry. His eyes screwed shut as his tiny chest began heaving.
"Mrs. Figg," Harry called out, thrashing against the blanket Poppy had placed over him earlier. Worried he would injure himself further, I replaced my free arm over his small shoulders. He flinched at the contact, practically recoiling into the mattress. But he stilled.
"Harry?" I tried again to calm him, at the very least offer him some form of comfort.
"Mrs. Figg?" he panted, obviously still panicked.
"No, Mrs. Figg is not here right now," I explained, quickly amending, "She is upstairs right now. I am sure she will come see you soon." His eyes shot open.
Lily's eyes.
Cut to the quick, I could only stare. It had been years since such eyes were laid on me. Large emerald eyes framed by long dark lashes blinked up at me, confusion clouding them. I quickly took back my arm from his shoulders.
"My name is Severus."
-SSHPSSHPSSHPSSHP-
"Mrs. Figg," I repeated, trying to make the man understand.
Have to find her.
"Mrs. Figg," I pulled his sleeve so he would come closer. Maybe he could not hear me right.
"She will be down here soon," he said, staring at me. He stared in a way Aunt Petunia definitely would have called 'rude'.
"You know, you have your mother's eyes," he suddenly said, still staring. I did not know why he was whispering, but I whispered back anyway.
"Yessur, Mrs. Figg?" He was still not listening, and he was still staring rudely. He stopped talking though.
"Sir?"
I was too far away to see his face. Maybe I said something wrong.
He suddenly bent forward, centimeters from my face. I could see him now. He was older but not like Mrs. Figg, more like Headmistress Roemmele. He had long hair that looked a lot like mine, dark and grimy. His face was not mean, even though he had a hook-like nose and he was frowning. He seemed very thoughtful, like he was studying something.
I looked away, feeling new aches and pain as I moved. Everything suddenly hurt again and felt worse than before.
"It's alright. You're safe here, Harry. Just lay back," he touched my head so softly, leaning me back. Before I could ask how he knew my name or why I had been allowed a pillow or why he was being so nice to me, everything was gone again.
-HPSSHPSSHPSSHPSS-
Harry quickly fell back asleep, no doubt exhausted. Despite the Draught he still seemed distressed, worry lines creasing his forehead as he tossed and turned. Still he was tired enough that he did not even hear the fireplace roar to life yet again. Nor did he hear Albus or Madame Bones enter the infirmary office. Earlier, Poppy had offered to sit with him, but I had decided to stay. Harry had not released my sleeve, and it somehow seemed callous to remove it.
"It has been discussed, and for now the child will stay with you," Madam Bones announced, passing a glance at Albus, "For the time being, the ministry will grant you temporary custody until a more permanent arrangement can be made."
"If you are agreeable," Albus added, returning the ministry's official look.
I looked back down at the child. Harry. His small hand bunched in my robe. He seemed so breakable and yet so strong at the same time. Slowly, I eased his fingers open and placed them beneath the covers.
"Harry will stay with me."
A/N: Yay, Severus and Harry finally met! Leave me a comment, please's and thank you's :)