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Chapter 8 - It can't be!

Back in his quarters, Severus guided the shaken boy over to the black leather sofa that lay in the middle of the living room, opposite the warm, crackling fire, and summoned a mug of strong, sweet tea. Handing it to Harry, which he took with trembling hands, nodding his thanks to the professor, Snape sat beside him, pulling him into a side embrace and holding him close with a strong arm.

"Ignore what Weasley said, Harry. He has no idea what he's prattling on about, the fooling imbecile." Searching for the right words to say, Severus rolled up his shirt sleeves before pocketing his wand. "I know about Dumbledore - or rather, the monster the man has become. You're safe here, with me, and you will be even more so once you're placed into a new house. I pray to Merlin it is Slytherin. That bastard won't be able to touch you then; he'll have to kill me first." He dark haired man informed the green eyed boy.

Harry sipped his tea in silence, taking in all that his professor was saying, humming and nodding at appropriate intervals.

When it appeared Snape had finished, Harry finally opened his mouth to speak. "You don't understand, sir. He'll kill me if I'm put there, and I honestly don't think anyone would be able to stop him - even you. He's too powerful..." Tears pooled in his bright eyes and he took in a desperate gasp of air, a panic attack coming on quickly.

Noticing Harry's sudden change, Severus summoned a Calming Draught and tipped it to the child's lips, massaging his throat to help him swallow the gloopy slime.

"Well done. You're doing well. Breathe in... and out - that's it. Good boy."

Coming back to himself, Harry blushed in humiliation. 'I can't believe I've let myself become so weak!' He admonished himself scornfully.

"He-he's evil. I don't know what I've done to deserve all of this. Well..." He laughed. A sour, bitter bark. "I do actually. I get people hurt, or worse, killed. I mean look at mum and dad - Cedric, Sirius! I may as well just kill my fucking self!" He exploded, angry tears pouring down his drawn face, leaving sharp, wet lines in their wake.

"Harry, no!" Snape growled, standing to face the distraught boy, who had leapt up at the beginning of his anguished outburst. "Do not say such foolish things. None of this is your fault. Now listen to me. You. Are. Not. To. Blame." Taking Harry by the shoulders, he gave him a firm shake before gathering him to his chest, whispering reassurances and stroking his damp, sweaty hair, rocking the boy gently from side to side.

An hour later found Harry asleep in Snape's spare room, exhausted from his upheaval. Slytherin green curtains around his bed shut Harry off from the world, charmed to alert the professor if Harry were to wake or suffer a night terror. Should the alarm sound, Severus would be there, ready to help calm the boy.

Sure enough, midnight dawned and with it came a scream. The alarm rang through Severus' head and he instantly rose from his desk, where he had been marking the 'blasted dunderheaded' first years potions assignments.

Running to the room in which Harry resided, Snape stopped short. He could hear the boy, yes, but he could hear him pleading with somebody. Somebody Severus had not let in.

Opening the door a crack, he saw the back and long, white beard of Albus Dumbledore.

'Shit!' Was his immediate reaction, as he stepped back, searching his mind for a clue as to what to do.

"Please, Sir! I'm sorry. I'm sorry! Noooo..." The accompanying scream was piercing in both pitch and volume, making Snape want to run in and stand over the child, protecting him from harm.

Straining his ears for the Headmaster's low voice, Severus was horrified to hear a whispered, but hate filled 'Crucio'. Unable to hold himself back a moment longer, the adrenaline fuelled man grabbed the nearest object to him - a hefty whisky glass - and launched it at such force towards the man, that upon hitting its target, smashed, blood spraying over the thick silver carpet.

Startled, Dumbledore, who should not have been able to do so within the walls of Hogwarts, apperated away.

Pulling himself together - 'goddamn it Severus, get a hold of yourself!' - Severus lunged towards the unconscious form of his charge, kneeling before him and checking his pulse. It was ragged, faint and fluttering, but there.

"Come on, Harry! Wake up, son." 'Son?' Chided his intruding conscience. 'He's not yours, Severus. You've no right to call him that. No right! You've done nothing to deserve the boy, you imbecile.'

"He's mine! I care for him as if he were my own son - my own flesh and blood. And dammit he should have been mine! Mine and sweet Lily's." He sobbed, still checking the boys for any physical wounds. "Harry. I'm going to get you checked out so-... child. Bear with me."

Reaching into his trouser pocket, he pulled out a ring. Inside the perimeter of the ring were runes, and a large emerald glimmered against the silver band. Making sure he had a tight hold on Harry, Severus slipped the ring on, Portkeying them to the entrance of Malfoy Manor where they landed with a soft thump, disgruntling the Malfoy's albino peacocks.

Standing quickly and brushing himself off, Severus placed his hand in the groove in the centre of the door, inciting a spell used to identify himself, and was gratified when the door unlatched, letting them in.

"Lucius!" He called, once he'd made sure that both he and Harry were safely inside, the door locking behind them.

Hurried footsteps approached, coming from above and, as he descended the elegant, spiral staircase, Lucius Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks, staring openly at the sight before him. "Is that... Potter?" Asked the austere man. He had much the same appearance as his son, aside from the fact that his white blond hair reached far past his shoulders, down to the middle of his straight, stiff back.

"Yes. I don't have much to say, only that Albus put him under the Cruciatus Curse. I got a blood sample from him - don't ask how. I need to borrow your lab. Something isn't right." Severus rambled. "Take Potter and keep him safe!"

Lucius Malfoy was beside himself. After all these years of trying to capture the elusive boy, Severus Snape had caught the young Potter.

No. Contrary to popular belief, he would not hurt the child, and neither would his master.

Voldemort had only ever wanted the boy to aid him in his defeat of Dumbledore, since he'd found out the old coot was harming his students. The young man was powerful, that was what attracted him.

He was not, if fact, an evil, sadistic maniac. He was, however, slightly troubled - unhinged, one might even say.

Taking in the boy's pale pallor and small stature, which was wracked with tremors and jerks, Lucius transfigured the rug the boy was laying on into a large four poster, tucking the child in with another lazy flick of his wand.

Once that was done, he sent a Patronus to his Lord, asking him to come to the manor as soon as he could and to bring a vial of anti-crutiatus nerve damage elixir. Sure enough, not ten minutes later, Tom Marvolo Riddle entered the large Malfoy home.

If he was suprised to find Harry Potter sleeping in a large bed in the middle of Lucius' entryway, he didn't show it.

Instead, the tall, snake like figure ambled over his loyal servant , handed him the potion and sat on the edge of the boy's bed. "What happened Luciu-...?"

He was cut off by the slamming of a door and Severus, who came barrelling out of the laboratory with a small vial of amber liquid and a look of terror etched across his pale face.

"Grindelwald. He-he's alive."