Albus Dumbledore was heading off to the Potions laboratory early Thursday morning, where his Potions master was obviously expecting him. Strangely enough, Severus Snape had barely argued when the Headmaster asked him to check on Harry this time. The glint in the Dumbledore's eyes was bright as ever.

Though he'd rather die then admit it, Snape secretly wanted to see how the boy was doing since the day before's encounter. After catching sight of the Dursley residence, he stopped, certain that Potter wouldn't be out at such early time of day. Nevertheless, after casting the customary invisibility charm, he took his place by the tree. By the sounds of it, the family was eating breakfast. The sudden sounds of a shrill voice caused him to flinch at the high note, and said voice was yelling something that he was unable to make out. A few minutes later, a more hoarse voice cried gave a pig-like grunt before grumbling something about slacking." Snape didn't know what to think.

A few seconds later, Potter came out, a bare slice of bread in hand. Probably his breakfast. The child looked all right, at least no worse then the day before. His limp would be unnoticed by the untrained eye. Snape scrutinized the boy carefully as he made his way towards the shed. Snape was just about to rest his eyes when a loud crash drove the thought out of mind. Then there was a whimper of pain, no doubt from Harry.

He saw Vernon Dursley make a beeline for the shed; and he allowed the oversized Muggle to reach it only because he wanted to make sure the boy was in one piece without having to open the door himself.
When he saw Dursley rip the door off one of its hinges and started to throttle the boy, Snape had second thoughts concerning the wisdom of his idea. He did not wish to blow his cover unless it was absolutely necessary, though. When the man brutally clutched Harry's wrist, fully aware that it was broken, Snape knew it was all the proof he needed. The Dursleys were, dare he say it, abusing Potter. This could not go on any longer.

Snape was about to make his leave when he realized that it was too early. But, he couldn't do anything for Potter either, for many reasons. Mainly, he had been forbidden to interfere or cause a scene with the muggles. Also, he didn't want Potter to think he cared, or something, and then go crying to him with all his little problems when they returned to Hogwarts. Snape shuddered at the thought of James Potter's son coming to him for help, and then smirked at the thought of Potter Sr.'s look of horror were he to know.

Snape reasoned that if Potter really did have problems, then he would be one of the few who could actually be of help to the boy. He'd certainly dealt with the same problem with many of his Slytherins. And there was his personal experience too of course. He snapped back into reality just in time to hear Dursley order Potter to be finished by the time the oaf came back. The obnoxious man would probably give the boy no more then an hour. When Potter finally came out of the shed, Snape could see that he was rushing. No sooner did he exit the shed, did his uncle approached, his stubby legs moving much too quickly in ratio to his pace.

Not thinking rationally, Snape made one of the neatly cut blades of grass morph into a long weed that wrapped itself around the man's foot, causing him to fall onto his belly and roll clockwise. After realizing the enormity of this action, Snape froze. He had thought it impossible, but Dursley grew angrier, his repulsive face turning a disgusting shade of purple. He blindly swiped at the weed, since he couldn't seem to see over his fat. Snape nearly laughed at how ridiculous the man looked, almost.

Once freed, the man squabbled even faster towards Potter. Snape was at loss, gazing on helplessly and with growing frustration.

Dursley continued to berate Potter while dragging him to the house.

"Useless waste of space, should've died with your bloody mother you should have..."

Snape saw red, his fists curled tightly into themselves, his nails nearly puncturing his skin. It was all he could do not to barge in and say quite of few words of his own... it was not a minute when he gave in and walked to the door with this silent, dangerous, grace.

He looked in discretely to see the halfwit lump kicking and punching the poor boy. Poor boy? This was the arrogant Potter he was talking about! On another note, how did he manage to hide such abuse? I never would have seen it, with such a pompous attitude the boy always took. Of course, I was too busy keeping him from making so much trouble, to notice anything such as this. At least that's what Snape told himself. He then noticed Potter glance up at his uncle with… relief? There was little… but it was there; and it confused the Potions master to no end.

The grip he held on the door was deathly, his knuckles were white with pressure. Only his years of training kept him from outwardly flinched at every lick, at each gruesome crunch that sounded. Dursley stopped after what seemed like ages, but then he reached to grab the boy… wait no… for Potter's belt.

Something moved inside him as he took in the horror of the boy's expression. Potter's oversized trousers, probably not his to begin with, fell immediately. Only when the boy braced himself in acceptance did Snape lose what control he had. Not even thinking to use his wand, he went for the muggle. Swiftly grabbing the hand in which the bastard held the belt.

Vernon was confused, and more than a bit unsettled, by the fact that his arm was stuck in mid-air. That same second, Potter attempted to make a run for it, but his uncle grabbed at his wrist, the broken one, before he was able reach the door. Dursley fruitlessly attempted to move his arm, all the while kicking the boy. Again, Snape reacted immediately, throwing the man onto the floor. The muggle fell with a plop. Vernon may have been the (much) larger man, but Snape was taller and unquestionably stronger.

By now, Vernon was terrified, and Harry was whimpering pitifully, not even bothering to attempt an escape again.

From the sounds of it, he may have gotten a few broken ribs at least. Harry seemed to be withdrawing into himself. Dursley fainted, probably from both fright and over-exertion of his flab... After binding him and making sure that no one else was in the house, Snape, still under the invisibility charm, went to examine Potter. He was in a bad way and his form lacked the usual Potter arrogance... unless it were a façade, which Snape would very well accept at this point.

"Potter!" Snape called harshly; possibly a little too harsh, as the only result was the scrawny thing curling into himself even more.

Accepting his cover was blown, Snape lifted the invisibility charm.

"Pot… Harry, it's Professor Snape!" This tactic did seem to help pull the boy back into reality.

"Come on, up you get. We must leave."

Potter cautiously opened his eyes and looked up, terrified, no doubt due to the fact that his git of a Potions master was his apparent savior. "Where are your things?" Severus asked coldly, though without his usual malice.

His facial expression gave away nothing as Potter awkwardly pointed to a door under the stairs. Severus made his way to the door, grimacing as he ducked down to enter it. He grabbed the trunk and owl there. The owl looked rather sickly and the trunk had dozens of Muggle locks on it. No wonder his homework is always so terrible. Severus was about to exit when something caught his eye. A small piece of paper was attached to the wall in the far corner, reading "Harry's Room" in very messy writing.

For some reason unknown to him, he folded up the paper and placed it in his pocket for future reference. Turning around, he saw Potter sitting on the stairs, braced against the wall, looking at him.

"I have some stuff upstairs that I need to get."

"Where?" Snape asked.

"Err… I can get it myself," said Potter.

Snape felt the urge to strangle the boy for being so stubborn, and would have if not for the circumstances. Snape's glare pointedly said that the boy could barely walk.

Snape loomed over the boy in an effort to prove his point, but felt like he'd been punched when Potter actually flinched away and raised his good arm over his face in defence. Remaining impassive, he agreed to let the boy get his things himself. Potter came down a few minutes later, a pillowcase full of who knows what in hand. Severus resisted the urge to hurry him along, and shrunk Potter's trunk before he made walked out to the backyard.

After making sure the boy was following him, Snape went around to the side of the house, decided that the Hogwarts hospital wing was the best destination, and pulled out a portkey that would lead straight there.

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Harry cautiously opened his eyes... to see his uncle's arm stuck in mid-air. Believing it was the result of his own accidental magic, he decided to try and make a run for it. His uncle pulled him back almost immediately, and his wrist throbbed with pain, which was the least of his worries as his uncle proceeded to kick him. Harry was unable to hold back a painful moan of protest, as any remaining pride took flight. He retreated to that dark place in the back of his mind, slowly becoming oblivious to what was happening.

He heard a sharp voice yell out his name and tried retreating even further. He heard the voice again, only this time he knew it couldn't have been his uncle. The voice had called him by his first name, something his uncle would never do.

Beginning to think a little more clearly, Harry realized that this person had saved him from his uncle's rage. Harry cautiously opened his eyes. When he realized who was in front of him, witnessing his cowardice, he adopted a tense stance, a look of horror etched on his face. In front of him was his greasy git of a Potions master, the man who'd made Harry's only refuge a nightmare at any chance he could.

"Where are your things?" Snape asked him, though without his usual venom.

Great. I have the bastard's pity now.

Harry clumsily pointed to the cupboard under the stairs. Once Snape had gone, Harry started thinking. He reasoned that Snape had saved him; no one else seemed to be there. For that, he was grateful. Then he realized that Snape now knew his biggest secret. He could imagine the ridicule Snape would level at him. He'd probably tell all of his precious Slytherins.

One thing was clear. This summer was not, and will not be, an easy one. He painfully got up and passed Snape, sitting on the stairs as he remembered all the things he had hidden upstairs. He nervously mentioned it to Snape and nearly panicked when Snape began to loom over him with that sneer on his face.

Try as he might, Harry was still unable to not flinch back and he lifted his arm to protect his face, tensing his body waiting to be hit.

The gesture was too much like Uncle Vernon's to avoid reacting as he did. He looked back at Snape, face burning in embarrassment, and noticed that Snape had paid no heed to his reaction. After Snape allowed him to gather his things, Harry wasn't sure if he should be angry with the man or not. Yes, he saved him, but he didn't have to be such an arse. He was probably happy to see the arrogant Boy-Who-Lived being pummeled by his Muggle uncle.

But then, why had Snape stopped him? And why hadn't he said a single thing other than to find out where Harry's things were? Harry felt angry and confused, which made him want to kick something. Hard. Harry carefully made his way back downstairs and followed Snape to the side of the house. Right after Snape took out the empty potions vial, Harry realized what it was. A portkey.

His thoughts flew back to that night in the graveyard, when Voldemort had made his return. He started to shake his head violently all while muttering no over and over again. He snapped back to reality when he felt a hand touch his shoulder. Harry move back as quickly as he could, until he tripped on a twig. Dazed, Harry panicked as he realized that Snape might not even be there to save him.

What if the portkey took him straight to Voldemort? He wouldn't be able to defeat him, not in his present condition. And if he died, then so would many others. All because of him. He was shaking, panicking now. He hadn't the slightest idea what to do.

Snape was confused. As soon as Potter saw the vial, he started to shake his head. Then he remembered the occurrences of the third task at the Triwizard Tournanment during Potter's fourth year. A portkey had taken Potter to the Dark Lord. Looking back, he saw that the boy was terrified. "Potter!" No results.

Snape walked toward him, planning to shake the boy back into reality, but as soon as he touched Potter's shoulders, the boy panicked. Potter continuously moved backward until he tripped on a twig. Snape sighed in frustration and walked to him again. He slipped a calming draught from his robes and forced the boy to drink. Potter calmed down considerably, but still refused to touch the portkey.

"Pot… Harry, this portkey was made by Albus Dumbledore himself. I can assure you that the Dark Lord has not tampered with it in any way," Snape said, in what he hoped, but somewhat doubted, was a calming voice.

The boy was looking at him now. Snape could see the mistrust in his eyes. He felt like banging his head against the wall in frustration, but instead, he told Potter to get out his invisibility cloak, which he did, slowly. Snape re-cast the invisibility charm on himself, and the two made their way over to Mrs. Figg's house.

Looking through the window, Snape stunned the woman, unwilling to explain himself to Arabella Figg, and the spell would wear off shortly anyhow.

He ushered Potter into Mrs. Figg's fireplace and told him to call out 'Hogwarts Hospital Wing'. Potter's responding silence only seemed to goad Severus's temper.

"Pro… Professor Snape, do we have to go there?", Harry asked nervously, remembering his manners in attempt to placate the man.

Snape could see the pleading look in the boy's eyes, but he was in no mood to be generous. When he reached to coax the boy into the fireplace again, Potter moved quickly away, boldly starting to speak again.

"Don't!…" He swallowed noticeably.

"They...they don't need to know. I… You… Can't you just leave me here?"

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