Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to J.K. Rowling. This story belongs to me.

A/N – Hi again! Thank you so much for all your kind words after the last chapter. This one took quite a bit of thought, and is really only part one of what is probably going to be a mammoth conversation between Harry and Snape. They have a lot of subjects to cover, and hopefully a lot of things will be resolved in the next few chapters while they both recover from their ordeal. I hope you enjoy it!

~Strength in Weakness~

The General

Hours later, just as the sun was beginning to set in the sky outside the windows of the Hospital Wing, Snape walked slowly and somewhat gingerly over to Potter's bed, his thoughts wild and unfettered as he tried to decide the best way to approach the upcoming conversation.

Despite numerous attempts by many members of the Order and Hogwarts faculty, Snape knew that Potter still had not talked about what had happened at the Dursley house; beyond the absolute bare minimum required of course. Other than a brief account of events, the Gryffindor had refused to talk about why the Order had been forced to rescue him from his own aunt and uncle, and – despite all the conversations he and Potter had already had on the subject in recent weeks – the boy had not once mentioned to anyone that this was not the first time such violence had occurred in that house.

Snape had almost told them about the past abuse himself, but in the end his instincts had prevailed over his mind. Somehow, despite his reservations on the matter, he knew that it was not his place to tell the Order what he knew about Potter's home-life; that above all else, it simply wasn't his secret to reveal.

Snape wanted Potter to trust him. And revealing lifelong abuse without his consent…well, Potter would see it as a betrayal, nothing more and nothing less. Snape was surprised by how much that thought bothered him, by how much the boy's opinion mattered to him now. He knew that even with all the arguments that still inevitably lay ahead of them, the relationship between Potter and himself had changed irrevocably in the last few weeks; from all-consuming, ignorant hate into a mutual grudging respect. Knowing Potter – and he did believe he knew the real Potter now at least - had forced him to see his own perceptions differently, to question everything he had ever thought about the world. Whilst he still didn't particularly like Potter - and likely never would given the boy's incredible ability to annoy him without even trying - Snape knew that he would do anything he could to avoid letting the boy down.

Having said that, Snape had every intention of making sure that the stubborn Gryffindor made the right decision in this case. It would be unaccountably difficult for the boy to talk about the abuse, he knew that, but Snape also knew he had to make Potter see that he had to open up about what had been going on all these years. He had to accept help, especially when the Order was readily offering it.

The Order had seen the results of years of abuse, had witnessed first-hand the beating that had nearly killed Potter, but truthfully they did not know even half of the story. And until Potter spoke about his ordeals, they never would, leaving them with as many haunting questions as Snape had had himself in the beginning. Because only Potter knew the full, grim tale, and only he could reveal it.

Well, the Dursleys could as well, Snape allowed sourly, though they were in no condition to speak at the moment since Moody, one of their apparent rescuers, had seen fit to transfigure the pair of them into tiny field mice, and the Order had so far seemed in no particular hurry to change them back. Snape found he couldn't disagree with that decision, but it did mean that the Order were relying on a scared, traumatised young teenager to fill in the many gaps that had appeared when they had found Potter's relatives beating him senseless…

Snape shook his head slightly as he moved closer to Potter's bed. The damage that had been done to an already battered Potter was almost insensible. Poppy had talked him through the boys injuries not long after Dumbledore had left him to his thoughts, but the list, given in such gruesome detail, had done nothing but make him feel both nauseous and furious at the same time. A broken, almost shattered shoulder, three broken ribs and two severely bruised ones, severe concussion, a shattered cheekbone, and then so many bruises scattered across the boy's body that he would not have looked out of place in a war zone.

Snape shook his head forcibly – trying to get rid of the images that had risen in his mind - but it did nothing to shake away the guilt. Shame ripped through him, and it was impossible to push it away, because Snape knew that whatever blame Potter's relatives held for Potter's condition, he shared it equally. Fever was no excuse, he thought to himself furiously. He had been the one to take Potter to his childhood home of abuse, and he was the one who had been lying unconscious upstairs whilst Potter had almost been beaten to death.

Snape clenched his fists until his fingernails began to cut into his skin, and he had to make a severe effort to calm down as he took a seat by the teenager's bed. He would not let the boy down again. Potter was on a precipice now, and judging by his refusal to talk even to those he trusted the most, he was close to falling. Snape felt pressure rise up his chest the likes of which he had rarely experienced, but he harnessed it as best he could as he steeled himself for what was to come.

Staring at Potter, apparently fast asleep and mercifully free of nightmares for once, Snape felt the sudden urge to get up and walk away. The boy looked so much like his father; his dark hair scattered messily across his pillow, and his face so scarily similar to James Potter that it almost felt as if Snape was staring into the past.

Harry Potter was not James Potter though, Snape reminded himself. Staring at the bruises and cuts on his face, that much was now painfully clear. The boy was his own person, and although Snape was still slowly learning who that person was, he knew that Potter was someone who had been through something neither of his parents could ever have imagined, let alone experienced.

Potter had been bloodied and bruised, he had suffered through years of hidden abuse culminating in one final beating that had nearly killed him…

But, Snape told himself as the boy began to stir, Potter was not broken.

Snape would make sure of it.

"Potter, I believe we need to talk."

Harry had known it was coming this time. The 'talk'. The spilling of all of his most closely guarding secrets until he had none left. Except he didn't want to talk, not even with Snape, who knew everything anyway. He didn't want to spill his secrets. He wanted to fall asleep again. He wanted to forget.

"I am not going to go away, Potter," the man repeated. "Unlike the others, I am as confined to the hospital wing as you are. I have quite literally nothing better to do."

"Why do we always have to 'talk'" Harry asked, finally turning to meet Snape's gaze. "Everybody already knows. What good does talking do?"

Snape shrugged slightly, which was so un-Snape-like that Harry could only stare. "Perhaps I am simply curious as to what happened whilst I was…otherwise engaged."

There was something in Snape's tone that made Harry bite back the less than friendly comeback on the tip of his tongue, that made him instead take a deep steadying breath as he thought about how to start this conversation; and whether he wanted to start this conversation at all.

Harry could hear the rain pitter-pattering against the windows of the hospital wing, and he forced himself to focus on the sound; the comforting rhythm of it, the uncompromising nature of the storm that was beginning to rage outside, the safety provided by the thick walls of Hogwarts. Harry revelled in it, and he took a moment to truly appreciate the feeling of being protected again, of being able to relax just a little bit more, and breathe a little more easily. Despite the problems that he now had to deal with, Harry was glad to be back. There had been a few moments when it had all been very touch and go…

"Are you okay?" Harry asked finally as he turned to Snape again, concern bubbling in his chest. The last time he had seen Snape, the man had been incredibly sick.

"I am fine," Snape replied, though as he looked at the Professor's almost translucent pallor, Harry wasn't convinced. "Madame Pomfrey believes that the infection is gone now."

"And yet you're still here," Harry replied, looking pointedly around the otherwise deserted hospital wing.

"For some maddening reason, she is under the impression that I need rest for a day or two in order to recover properly." Snape replied with a scowl. "Unfortunately the Headmaster agrees with her. Without my wand, I have no means to fight them. Hence, I am trapped here until they decide otherwise."

"What are you going to do about your wand?" Harry asked quietly.

"Look for it," Snape replied tightly. "If I cannot find it at the Ministry, then I will have to assume that the Dark Lord has taken it. In that case, I will simply have to purchase another one."

Harry frowned. "But it -"

"It will not be the same, no," Snape replied stiffly, answering the question that Harry had just about to ask. "But a new wand will be sufficient for my needs. Do not worry yourself about it, Potter. It cannot be helped."

Harry wasn't sure about that, but he let it go for now. The truth was, he had plenty of other things to worry about at the moment. Unfortunately, Snape seemed to sense the shift in conversation, and began to speak before Harry could keep the subject away from himself.

"You realise that they need to know?" Snape continued quietly. Harry didn't need to ask what Snape was talking about.

"Yeah, I know, but…" Harry paused, taking a deep breath. "I still don't want to tell them."

"Do not be childish, Potter," Snape told him wearily. "What you are doing is akin to putting your hands over your ears and humming loudly."

"I just don't want to talk about it," Harry muttered. He considered lying down, turning away from Snape, and closing his eyes, but he rather thought that might prove Snape's point.

"Potter…"

"Look, you wouldn't understand," Harry interrupted wearily.

"Then try to explain it to me," Snape replied tightly. "You told the Headmaster that you wished to speak with me first before talking with the Order. This is your chance."

Harry could almost feel the man getting more and more frustrated with him. It helped, in a way. It was comforting in a way that Snape wasn't treating him all that differently.

Harry swallowed. "It's just…"

He trailed off as his chest began to tighten, his mind already whirring with memories that he would rather forget. He couldn't do this. He couldn't talk about…

"You're scared," Snape commented with a faint look of surprise, though it was a statement not a question.

Nevertheless, slowly, Harry nodded. "Yeah. I'm just…I'm not ready. I don't want anything to change…"

"Things have already changed, Potter," Snape replied wearily. "I fear I am repeating myself yet again, but you are not alone. And, what's more, will not ever be alone. Attempting to isolate yourself in this way is only putting off the problem. It is not solving it."

"I know," Harry replied with a scowl, shifting slightly in the bed.

His arm was healing well, and would be back to normal by tomorrow. His bruises would be long gone by then as well, but he knew that the traces left behind by the beating – the ones that weren't visible - would be much more difficult to get rid of.

"I just…" Harry continued quietly. "I don't want anyone to…pity me."

"Then do not give them anything to pity, Potter," Snape said, leaning forward in his chair.

"It's not that easy," Harry replied with a shake of his head.

"Of course it isn't," Snape told him. "But your destiny, no matter what anyone else might say, Potter, is in your hands. You may not have total control over the events in your life, but you have enough control to decide how you want to face those events. You have enough control to decide how to act, to decide what kind of man you want to be. It is another choice, Potter – a more difficult one, of that there is no doubt – but a choice nonetheless."

"You really want me to tell them everything?"

"You must tell them everything," Snape replied, shaking his head. "What I want is for you to trust them to do the right thing with that information."

"It's hard," Potter replied.

"I'd be concerned if it wasn't," Snape dismissed. "But be strong. In the face of this newest weakness, be strong."

"Can't you tell them?" Harry replied. "You know…everything. Can't you just tell them, like we agreed before?"

"If you wish," Snape nodded. "I can even pass on the transcript from our previous conversation. But, they will still have questions, Potter, especially as our conversation was…cut short. It would be best if the answers came from you."

Harry was quiet for a long time then, which Snape didn't seem to mind. The silence that fell between them could never be described as comfortable, but it wasn't uncomfortable either. Harry thoughts ran wild in his mind as he considered about different things were now, how different everything was going to be from now on.

"He told me everything, you know," Harry said suddenly, as his mind fixed on one particular difference. "How he was the one who had left me with the Dursleys for the protection that came from my mum's sacrifice, how he left Mrs Figg in the area to keep an eye on me. I just…how could he not know what kind of life I would have there?"

"I assume you are referring to the Headmaster?" Snape replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes," Harry scowled. "I can't believe he's shown up now, weeks after we actually needed him. What gives him the right-?"

"Stop it, Potter," interrupted Snape before Harry could get into the full swing of his rant. "This anger does you no good."

"Aren't you angry?" Harry demanded.

"My feelings toward the Headmaster are complicated."

"Explain," Harry replied, deliberately mimicking the way Snape had made the same demand of him so often lately.

Snape simply quirked his head in reply. "As you wish. The Headmaster…he often has to think of the greater good when making decisions. He does not have the luxury of thinking only with his heart. As angry as I am at him for leaving Hogwarts when we needed him most, I can understand why he made that choice; why he thought it was for the greater good." Snape paused, clearly thinking deeply as he turned his gaze back onto Harry. "Why do you think he left you with the Dursleys for all those years?"

"I…I don't know," Harry replied, and it was true. He'd never really thought about it before. He'd always just assumed that it was because Petunia was his last remaining relative.

"Do you believe Dumbledore to be intentionally cruel?" Snape asked intensely. "Is he evil?"

"No," Harry replied. No matter how upset and angry he was with the Headmaster, he knew the man was good above all else. "But how could he not know what he was leaving me to? She hated my mum."

Snape nodded. "I think we both agree that it is likely he knew that the conditions he was leaving you in were…far from favourable for a newly orphaned infant. But, Potter, I think he would have drawn the line at outright abuse."

"You really don't think he knew about…you know?" Harry asked, almost scared of the answer.

Snape sighed heavily. "No, I don't think he knew. If he had known, I believe Dumbledore would have placed you elsewhere. Keeping you safe from Voldemort is not worth risking you dying at the hands of your relatives."

"Right," Harry said dully.

Snape fixed his gaze onto Harry again. Clearly he had more to say on the matter. "But even so, why would he even risk it? Why not just place you with a good Wizarding family, or better yet, raise you under the wards of Hogwarts."

Harry thought hard, and could only think of one explanation. "The...protection?"

Snape nodded again. "He is a general as well as a Headmaster. It may be difficult for someone your age to appreciate it, but Dumbledore is as much the leader of an army as he is a teacher. Leaving you at the Dursley house might have been a mistake, but he did not mean to cause you harm. He meant to keep you safe from Voldemort."

Harry was about to make a sarcastic comment about how well that worked out, but Snape continued to speak before he could.

"With hindsight it is easy to see his mistake," Snape told Harry, as if he had read his mind. "But at the time he was not thinking as the Headmaster who should have protected his student at all costs. He was thinking as the general who had just lost two of his best soldiers, and who now had in his possession a baby, fated to save the world, who he knew he would need to protect at all costs. He was thinking of the war. Dumbledore knew that the Dark Lord would one day return, and that the protection offered by Lily's sacrifice would give you a greater chance of survival when you eventually faced him. You are only alive now because of that protection. You should remember that, Potter."

Harry frowned. "That doesn't make it okay."

"No," Snape allowed. "But even great men like Dumbledore are allowed to make mistakes."

Harry was ashamed to admit it, even to himself, but he'd never really thought of Dumbledore as… human before now. As someone who could make mistakes, as someone who had as much to lose as anyone else. As someone who would eventually die…

"I hadn't really thought about it like that," Harry admitted quietly, his mind whirring.

"You are not the only one with burdens, Potter," Snape replied, and at this point Harry got the distinct impression that Snape referring to more than just Dumbledore's role as general in the war. "You are not the only one who is carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Perhaps you should remember that as well."

A/N – So, how was it? I found this really difficult to write, and I'm still not entirely happy with the way this has turned out. Your reviews were really helpful though, particularly Raven Lockwood who came up with the whole general/headmaster comparison. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, and I hope you don't mind me using it in the story! Keep the inspiration coming, because it helps more than you know. And for those who are wondering where Sirius and Remus are in all of this, they will both be making appearances later on, I promise. For now though, as far as the story goes at least, to be continued…