Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter world. No, I don't own Harry Potter or any other characters, surprising though that may be. JK Rowling owns the characters – I'm simply expanding on what she provides.

Summary: Harry is given a diary by Dumbledore and when he writes in it he receives an unexpected response. His correspondent learns of Harry's less than suitable living conditions and an unlikely bond is formed. Abused!Harry, DrugAddict!Harry.

Warnings: Swearing, drug abuse, reference to child abuse, reference to sexual abuse/rape in later chapters.


The two wizards sat at the dining table together. They had not yet spoken to one another apart from the customary greetings. There was simply not a lot to be said. Or so Harry thought.

"Once you have finished your breakfast, Harry, I would like to speak with you."

"I'm finished."

Severus eyed the full bowl of fruit in front of the boy doubtfully. He raised one eyebrow in a silent question.

Harry pushed the bowl away from him. His appetite was still non-existent. No matter how much his professor tried to make him eat more, he just couldn't stomach it. He was as thin as ever, or perhaps thinner than ever, considering the various ailments he had suffered throughout the summer break so far.

"Sorry sir, I'm just not hungry."

"You will eat some more. You are still much too thin."

"I can't."

"You could try."

"Please don't make me."

"You need to eat more, Harry, please."

Perhaps it was the weary, pleading tone in Snape's voice, or maybe it was simply that Harry was too sick of arguing to bother putting up a fight. Whatever it was, the boy reached for his fork and stabbed a chunk of fruit, resentfully curbing to the potion master's wishes.

"Thank you."


Harry sat curled up in an armchair, a thick book resting on his knees. He was waiting for the older wizard to arrive so they could discuss whatever it was on Snape's mind – he'd said he would be back in 10 minutes or so. Whenever his uncle wanted to speak with him, it was never good. In fact, it almost certainly resulted in a beating, or worse. He shook his head slightly, squeezing his eyes shut. No. Snape would not hurt him. Not like that.

As he entered the room, Severus' eyes fell upon the slight form of the boy-who-lived. He could tell by the boy's position that he was wary. His shoulders were tense and his body practically projected fear from every pore. The professor tried to emit an air of calmness; it would not do to have Harry relate talks with him as a terrifying experience. He lowered himself gracefully onto a sofa and summoned a house-elf to serve them some tea, seemingly delaying.

"You wanted to talk to me sir?" A soft voice broke the relative silence, tinged with hesitation and perhaps a hint of trepidation. Even though he tried to keep his fear from showing, he couldn't mask it entirely, and not much got past the ex-spy, anyway. The potions master watched silently as those emerald eyes scoped the room – flickering between exits and possibly hiding places. Harry had purposefully picked a single armchair with a table in front of it – not much of a barrier, but a barrier nonetheless.

After pouring tea for both Harry and himself, and taking a few sips of his own, Severus finally spoke up. His tone was neutral, evidently trying (and failing) to put Harry at ease.

"My godson, Draco, usually comes to stay with me for a week or two at the beginning of August."

The Slytherin kept his dark eyes on the teenager the entire time, trying to gauge his reaction. All he could draw from the boy was fear. There was a light tremor in his fingers, though Snape was unsure whether this was a lasting side effect from the heroin withdrawals, or something else.

"Malfoy is your godson?"

"Indeed."

"And he will be coming to stay here in… a week or so?"

"More or less."

There was a tense silence for several seconds while Harry considered this new information. He sipped at his tea a few times before speaking. His body seemed controlled but his brilliant green eyes showed his simmering rage.

"You know he hates me… right?"

"I am well aware of the enmity between you, however I can assure you that he does not hate you."

"He certainly doesn't like me."

"That, I will not deny."

"And you expect us to live in this house together, for upwards of a week, in relative peace?"

"I do."

"Sorry sir, but are you out of your mind?"

Harry tone had risen above the fearful softness of earlier and it now rang out loudly across the living room. His entire body trembled slightly, and he stood from the chair, rage bleeding into his voice.

"He HATES me, sir. He always has and he always will. He goes out of his way to make my life more miserable than it already is, and you want me to live with him?"

"Calm down, Potter."

"You have to be kidding."

"I am not kidding, Mr. Potter, and I do expect you to conduct yourself in a respectable and restrained manner while he is staying here."

"No."

"No?"

"I… He thinks I'm a spoilt brat!"

"You are behaving like one."

"Don't you dare imply that I am spoilt in any way."

"Touchy subject, Mr. Potter?"

Severus found himself ducking to miss a teacup that was unceremoniously thrown at his head before turning to watch the boy flee the room. He sighed in frustration. Why couldn't anything be simple? That annoying voice in his head mentioned something about purposefully riling the boy, however Severus ignored it. This topic was not up for debate. He couldn't turn his godson away.


How could he? He knows how they treated me. He knows what my uncle did to me. He knowshow I feel about it. Why would he do that? Harry growled in anger and swung around to punch the wall of his bedroom. His knuckles hit the cold stone wall with a loud crack and pain shot up through his hand all the way to his shoulder. His eyes began to water but he ignored it and picked up a textbook off his desk to hurl at the opposite wall. He was so fucking angry he thought he might explode.

Lucas,

I desperately need something from you. You know the drill. I've included some money to pay for everything. Please send it as soon as possible. Sorry about the weird style of postage – the owl is friendly.

Raven

Harry folded the parchment and tied it to the leg of an impatient barn owl. He also placed several galleons in the pouch on her leg before telling her where to go for them to be exchanged and sending her out the window.

After a little bit of research, Harry had worked out that, although he didn't know any wizard that would sell him drugs, he could safely owl a muggle or two. He hadn't planned to actually get any, but right now – he needed it. And so, using one of Snape's owls, he had sent his letter. Hopefully it would arrive back with his little parcel at a time when the bastard potions master was not around. He could only cross his fingers in that respect.

Raven was the name Harry went by on the streets, largely due to the inky darkness of his hair. Unwilling to reveal his true identity, everyone knew him by that alias and nothing else. He found that most street kids, particularly those involved in illegalities, were inclined to use false aliases anyway, so he was certainly not alone in that.


Severus Snape's cold, dark eyes watched as a nondescript brown owl flew across the grounds away from the window of the Gryffindor's bedroom. Who was the boy corresponding with? The owl appeared to be one of the many manor owls. Which was quite odd. Not that one of the owls was delivering mail, simply that Harry wasn't using his own. Didn't he have a snowy white owl that he always used to contact his friends and the order? Come to think of, he hadn't seen said owl for quite a while. His eyes narrowed slightly as the bedroom window was opened and the creature disappeared into the bedroom. Could the damnable boy not use the owlery like any normal person?


July 30th - 10:12am

I should apologise for the way handled the situation this morning, Harry. I should not have said some of those things. And for that, I am sorry.

No sir, I'm sorry for reacting badly. I understand that he's your godson and you can't lock him out.

He doesn't hate you.

Well he certainly acts like it.

Do you hate him?

Hate is a relatively strong word, sir…

Do you?

I don't think so. I hate Dumbledore.

But you do not regard my godson with the same level of contempt?

No, but he is still death eater scum.

He does not wish to follow in his father's footsteps.

But he will anyway.

As I did, at his age.

That's different, sir.

How so?

It just is.

It is not. You simply haven't given him a chance to redeem himself.

He will never become a spy for the light.

I do not expect him to. It is a dangerous game and I would not wish that upon anyone.

I can imagine Tom would get rather peeved if he found out.

Rather peeved?

Well, he's not the most controlled of persons.

Only you would speak of his murderous temper so mildly.

Malfoy is perfect death eater material though.

Give him a chance, Harry, and you may be surprised.

I somehow doubt it.

He is not his father any more than you are your father.

You make a valid point.

Indeed.


July 30th - 2:27pm

Where is your owl, Mr. Potter? I have not seen it this summer. I fear it may be disorientated by the elaborate wards on the manor and is unable to locate you. Unless another bird that already knows of the manor's existence accompanies it, your owl will perhaps be unable to find her way here.


July 30th - 3:45pm

I have not seen her either and I am beginning to worry about her, sir. She never takes this long to find me.

As I said, the wards may be causing her absence.

Well, how can I find her?

For now, you cannot.

Professor! I need her.

Who have you been corresponding with?

Nobody, I don't have my owl.

You used a manor owl.

How the fuck do you know?

You could have at least used the owlery, and then I may not have noticed.

Just a friend, sir.

Granger or Weasley I assume?

No.

You told me you have no other friends.

What does it matter to you?

I am just curious.

Leave me alone.


July 30th - 9:51pm

When will Malfoy be coming, sir?

In a few days. I believe he was planning to arrive on the 4th of August.

Does he know I'm here?

He does not, I cannot risk his father finding out at this point. It would be best if you were in your room when he arrives so that I can explain the situation to him first.

Yeah.

You will treat Draco with respect while he is here.

Of course, sir, anything for you.

I'm serious Mr. Potter.

Okay, okay, I'll be nice.

1. What do you usually do on your birthday?
2. Would you prefer to be here, or at your relatives' residence?
3. Have you trained to become animagus at all?

Well that was a bit left field. I thought we were talking about Malfoy.

We were, however, now we are not.

I think I'd prefer to continue talking about him, if that's okay.

It's not okay.

No really, I'm over the three questions thing.

It was you who started it.

So?

Just answer them.

1. My relatives don't exactly lavish me with gifts.
2. Here.
3. I've read a few books.

I did not ask what your relatives do not do on your birthday, I asked what you do. Answer the question, Potter.

I stay up until midnight and at that time I usually receive gifts from my friends. Other than that, it is the same as any other day.

I see. And what about your cousin? What are his birthdays like?

You had your three questions.