OH MY GOD. You are entirely right. Voldemort is waaay older than Snape.

Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to screw it up like that. Just ignore that. SNAPE IS YOUNGER THATN VOLDEMORT. Thanks for clearing that up for me.

And thanks for the reviews, guys!

I don't own anyything.

"Harry Potter? The Harry Potter?"

"Uh… What?"

Draco frowned in confusion. "Yes. That's the scar. But how did you get here? Do you know who's inside there?"

"Uhm… Mr. Snape brought me here through a green fire thingy. A-and I believe only Mr. Riddle is inside."

Draco's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Did Harry Potter not know who he was? And what the hell with that 'Mr. Riddle' thing? Didn't Harry know who Voldemort was? He swallowed thickly. The most feared Dark Wizard that had ever existed in the history of the Magical World was staying at his house for the time being. Damn his parents being Death Eaters. He was terrified of the man to no end, and he didn't know what to say to Harry Potter. What if he foiled any plans the Dark Lord had for him? He crossed his arms and looked at him up and down. Harry raised an eyebrow at him and leaned backwards. He didn't like people looking at him that way.

"I see you two have already met." A voice hissed behind them. A hand was placed non-too-gently on Draco's shoulder as Lucius looked down at Harry. "And Potter, heavens agree, you look dazzling today." Harry couldn't decide if that was sarcasm or not, so he simply gave a half smile and looked down.

Draco looked between his father and Harry. Did his father just call Harry by his last name? Was he missing something?

"So, Potter." Lucius continued. "Snape will arrive soon with the healer. You don't want to keep them waiting, now do you?"

Harry flinched slightly at the calm but strained tone in the man's voice. It was always worse this way. He promptly shook his head and headed inside. Lucius stayed silent for a moment, with his hand firmly planted on his son's shoulder, as he followed the tiny boy with his eyes. Once he made sure that he was inside, he turned to Draco. The small boy looked up at him, his eyes filled with confusion. His father removed his hand form his son's shoulder and palced it back over his other hand, at the top of his long, black cane.

"Dad… That was Harry Potter."

"Such a bright boy." His father spat out sarcastically. Draco blushed slightly before turning to look at his house.

"But… but the Dark Lord is inside."

"I know that, Draco." His father sighed. "It was the Dark Lord's idea." He sent an icy glare at his son. "Listen to me. The Dark Lord's plans shall not be foiled, you hear me? One wrong move and you'll regret it, kid. Potter knows nothing. Nothing. If you tell him, you'll be in big trouble. Okay?"

Draco nodded and stared with his brows furrowed at the door of the mansion.

"Well, well. Look who's back." Voldemort said. Harry stared at the two other men. One was Severus, the other one was like a walking corpse. The man was overly thin and pale. He was so wrinkled that his skin seemed to be hanging from his face. There were a few white hairs on his head. He was wearing a black robe as well. He looked down at Harry and smiled toothily, showing yellowed, disheveled teeth.

"Well, hello there, Mr. Potter."

"Uh… Hi."

"This is Fordergard Frustum." Voldemort said, drawing a hand out to indicate the man who he was referring to… although it was obvious. "He'll be tending to your remaining injuries."

Harry nodded quickly and subconsciously cradled his hand. Frustum looked up at Voldemort, who nodded curtly. The oldest man walked up to Harry and the child instinctively leaned backwards. Voldemort noticed and frowned.

"Why don't you come and sit on the couch, Harry?"

Harry nodded and sidestepped the man, walking up to the big leather couch and jumping up to sit on it. He nervously played with his fingers as he looked back and forth between the three men. He didn't like going to hospitals. It was always the same. When he broke a bone too severely that it could be noticed, and had to go to school the next day, Uncle Vernon always resorted to the Hospital. But it was always the same crap. Uncle Vernon always made him suffer, squeezing the broken appendage until he cried. Then he'd drag him to the car and drive far away, away from the neighbors and the nearby hospital, taking Harry to a care center where nobody would recognize them. There, he'd make up a story about how Harry was a horrible bully and ended up in fights with older kids who easily beat him up. He was so thin because he refused to eat, of course, in his crazy little whim, but he had a psychologist for that. And the scars? Oh, wouldn't you believe it, a car crash that killed his parents.

And then the doctor would be satisfied and, learning that Harry was some kind of spoiled to the goddamn core, rebellious bully, he'd treat the little boy non-too-gently.

Frustum kneeled down to be eyelevel with Harry and smiled at him.

"How old are you, Harry?"

"Ten." He said quietly.

"Oh. Such a big boy. Why don't you let me see your wrist?"

Harry hesitated and looked up at Voldemort.

"Show him, Harry. It's okay."

Harry nodded and slowly extended his trembling arm to the man, who took it gently and stared at it. "Tell me if this hurts." He said. He pressed on each side of the wrist and Harry gasped. The healer nodded and then pressed from above and below. Harry also gasped. Then, he took his hand and rotated it. Harry whimpered and tried to pull back.

Voldemort didn't like to see Harry in pain, so he growled warningly. Unfortunately, Harry thought it was directed to him, instead of the healer. He jumped and threw his free arm in front of his face, wincing. His breathing became absurdly fast and he swallowed heavily.

"I… I'm sorry." He whimpered.

The healer sighed and softly pushed Harry's arm back down, ignoring Voldemort's growl. "It's okay, child. I'm not going to hurt you. I know it is a little painful but it is only for your well-being. Okay? Just relax. We'll be done in no time." He soothed. Harry swallowed and nodded. The man gently rotated his hand to the other side, making Harry whimper again. He bit his lip, trembling, awaiting a blow to the head. But it didn't come. The man just pushed his hand back, and then pulled it forward, all the while taking mental notes on the boy's reactions. Finally, he took out his wand and placed it gently on the boy's wrist.

"This is not going to hurt at all, Harry."

Harry nodded and watched as the man muttered something while he waved his wand. Harry gasped as his wrist lost the awful swell and stopped throbbing. The healer smiled at Harry's awed face and then pushed his arms to his sides, going to inspect his ribs. As he did so, Snape turned around and walked out. Voldemort looked at him and then back at Harry. When he decided that the child was safe and calm, he followed the Professor outside. The younger man sensed his Master following him and stopped, not turning around.

"What's the hurry, Severus?" he asked.

"Dumbledore needs me."

"He does, does he?" Voldemort muttered. "Does he already know that I took Harry?"

"I have no idea, sir."

"Then go, and do bring back all the information, Severus."

The man gave a curt nod before apparating away.

Howarts stood tall under the bright sun. Severus had to squint as he looked up at the giant castle. He sighed as he walked up to the gates and opened them with a flick of his wand. The gates screeched as they moved backwards to allow the dark man to enter. He steadily walked all the way into the castle and then headed for the was unnerving to see the usually crowded halls so empty in the middle of the day. Even in Christmas there were at least a few little rodents running around, chasing each other and wrapped in their holiday's warm outfits. He didn't like to be alone in Howarts. He arrived at the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office and looked up at it, his lip curling up in hatred.

He remembered when he was young, emotionally and physically destroyed from the Marauder's attacks, and he went to Dumbledore for assistance. The gargoyle always made jokes on how his hair was now bright pink, or his eyes were swollen, or how he was vomiting slugs or the fingers in his hands were all crooked and wrong.

"Fizzing Whizbees." He muttered.

The gargoyle smirked and moved aside. "Long time no see." It said through its rock-like voice.

"Fuck you." He rasped.

Dumbledore was patting Fawkes when he arrived. The bird looked at him and whistled. Dumbledore turned around and clasped his hands behind his back, smiling at Snape. The younger man nodded curtly in acknowledgement and crossed his arms.

"Severus, it's nice to see you."

"Albus."

"How have you been?"

"Busy."

"Anything new to tell me, Severus?"

"No."

"The Dark Lord – "

" – Is the same as always. Nothing new. Nothing of your concern." He glared at the man. "Now, do you have anything new to tell me, Professor?"

"Oh, Merlin, yes." He sighed. He looked at Severus and caressed his beard, pacing back and forth slowly. "I've sent the letters, Severus."

"You – what?"

"I sent the letters a week ago. The Durselys burnt every single one I sent."

"Figures." He said, rolling his eyes. "Petunia wasn't a fan of magic, really."

"I know but…" he frowned. "What worries me is that there is something wrong with the wards, Severus."

"Oh?"

"I can't see what it is. It is not Voldemort. I would've been notified immediately. But… but the wards only get damaged if the Dursleys die, if Harry turns 17, or if he… stops living there."

"Stops living there? What do you mean, Albus?"

Severus was confused now. Potter had been away from his home only one night and barely a morning. He hadn't lived away per se.

"What I mean is that he found a new home." He bit his lip. "He has stopped considering the Dursley's house as his own."

Severus's heart stopped. After getting fed, healed, bathed and clothed, it was obvious that Harry would indeed consider Malfoy's house as his own. Or anywhere where Voldemort was, anyway. He crossed his arms, deep in thought.

"Send Hagrid to fetch him." He suggested, trying to sound calm even as a million thoughts crossed his head.

"I will once he turns eleven." Dumbledore answered. "I'm just afraid that he won't be there when Hagrid goes for him."

"You mean… if he ran away?"

"Yes. I mean exactly that, Severus."

"Albus, have you ever considered that if he stopped seeing the Dursley's house as his own, perhaps he has a reason?" he said. He sighed in frustration when the old man raised an eyebrow at him. "You have not checked on him since you left him on their doorway almost ten years ago, Albus. The only thing that snapped you back to attention was the fact that he'll be eleven soon and needs to come to Howarts. That, and the fact that he presumably ran away from home."

"Severus, I know you are concerned, but I am entirely sure that Petunia would treat Harry as good as she treats Dudley. I trust her in that. She is Lily's sister after all." He said. "Besides, the Dursleys are our only solution as of now to keep Harry safe from Voldemort."

Snape almost laughed at that. It was ironic how Voldemort was the one keeping Harry safe from the Dursleys. He frowned at the man.

"Then I suppose we'll have to wait until Hagrid retrieves him."

"I suppose."

There was a stretch of silence before Severus rolled his eyes and grunted.

"I'll go home now."

"Right." Dumbledore said, rubbing his eyes. Snape noticed just then that the man hadn't slept for days. And he knew that Harry wasn't the main reason for that. "You do that. Good luck, Severus."

Snape nodded curtly before turning away, his cape swirling behind him.

"Oh. And, Severus?" the man stopped but didn't turn around. Didn't even turn his head. "Just remember you vowed Lily that you'd keep Harry safe, no matter what… This is not The-Boy-Who-Lived, Severus. This is Lily's son."

"I already know that." He said grimly. "And I will keep my promise."

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