2:00 AM: September

Ronald Weasley. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left- Bill was Head Boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first." Ron would say about other's expectations.

Ron inherited the typical Weasley Family traits: fiery red hair and a freckled complexion. When he became embarrassed, his ears notably turned red. He had blue eyes, a long nose, and was described as being very tall and lanky, with big hands and feet. In this way, his stature was similar to those of his older brothers Bill and Percy, rather than the heavily built. His sister Ginny once joked to the trio that Ron had a Pygmy Puff Tattoo though it is doubtful that the remark had any truth in it.

Ron was sound asleep when he heard the door creak open. He sat upon the bed and saw a shadowy figure make it's way to Harry's bed. It must be Harry! Ron thought excitedly. He knew Harry didn't listen to the rules. He knew Harry would be back. "Harry, what are you doing here?" Ron said softly.

"I-uh-erm, had to leave."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Why are you lying. Snape told us what happened."

"He told you?" Harry felt his face go cold and pale.

"Yeah. I'm sorry, mate. I wished I had put the pieces together."

"You okay? Do you want to talk about what has been going on?"

"Harry there is something I need to tell you-" Just then there was a slight knock on the door. Harry and Ron had only been talking for like ten minutes. An old witch with her hair done up in curlers and a green robe on was at the door. Her face tired and angry.

"Mr. Potter. What are you doing outside the Hospital Wing?"

"Sorry Professor I just-"

"You just nothing. Go back at once. Follow me." Harry sighed.

"Yes Professor." He walked to the door and looked back at Ron who looked worried and solemn.

"I'll tell you later, mate." He said and waved as the door closed behind them. Ron couldn't tell him he's in danger. No, The Boy Who Lived already had enough on his plate. But Ron knew something bad was coming. Something powerful. Was it Voldemort? Was it? Or was it something else? Or someone? Ron pondered on these questions, trying to act normal as he can, but he can't help but feel the sudden, controlling change. And he couldn't tell his best friend. How could you?

"Oh Harry, by the way, I think I'm becoming possessed by someone and I've been doing bad things like stealing and getting angry." No, Ron couldn't tell that. Even if Harry was his best friend. But Ron laid back in bed. And stayed awake for the rest of the morning feeling lost and confused. Why was he stealing? Why was he thinking of Dark Arts and using them against his friends? What was happening?

2:00 AM: September

Snape was awake in his bed. He couldn't stop but picture the gruesome sight of Harry Potter. It wasn't until he was starting to fall asleep did he hear a pounding on his chamber doors. "Oh for Merlin's sake!" He yelled out. He aggressively got out of bed and put some "night robes" on. He lit the room dimly with his fireplace and made sure everything was in place. "This has better be a good reason." He mumbled to himself. No one ever visits me, let alone at two in the fucking morning.

He opened the door to see a worn out Minerva and an awake small boy. Her hand was on his back and his feet were facing each other as if he were ashamed in himself. Snape sighed loudly, letting them know he was not up for whatever foolery was going on.

"He wandered out of the Hospital Wing. He decided he doesn't want to stay there for the next few hours. I figured he could stay here for the night." Snape moved his fingers to his temple. This is not what I want to do at two in the morning. I don't want to deal with this.

"Okay, fine. Come in, Potter." He said and Harry was hesitant. "Now, please." The man spoke harsher. The boy shuffled his feet inside the room and stood. Amazed is he? Might as well as wake myself up. Snape thought to himself. He knew he was harsher with the boy now then if he were actually awake, but he was dead tired. "Sit down Potter. I think now that we are both up we should talk." There were no movements from the boy. "Go on, then." He gestured to a chair that sat in front of the fireplace. He too followed the boy to sit across. The chair he sat in was cold and leather. "We talked, Me, McGonagall, and Madam Pomphrey. I will be your Head of House and your guardian as of right now. I will bring this up with Dumbledore-"

"Dumbledore?" Harry spat. "The man who left me there?" Harry sounded angry. Snape sighed again.

"Don't interrupt me, Potter. I'm tired enough as it is. I know Headmaster Dumbledore didn't help the situation but now he will be forced to. We will put the residents of Private Drive to court in the Wizarding world since we all knew you were there. We just didn't know what was happening. As of right now, there is a room for you here, and a bed in the Slytherin House. I know you may object but they would not hurt you. They were all in your position. And I take care of all of them as my own." Snape saw the way the boy looked. He looked like he had fear, but needed to say something. "Now you may speak, Mr. Potter."

"What is there to talk about?" He abruptly spoke.

"What is going on your mind? Why did you leave the Hospital Wing? Anything." Snape leaned back in his chair, uncrossed his legs and let them slightly open as they rested apart. Harry gulped.

"I wanted to leave because I'm tired of always being there."

"I see, but you need to understand we are trying to heal you." Snape looked at the boy with soft, black eyes. "Go look in the mirror over there by that mantel. Look at yourself and see what we healed." Harry saw a tall mantel enough for a tall man to see his whole body. He stood up, shaking. Snape looked at the small figure and saw that the damage has already been done. It just needs to be fixed.

"I can't..." He trailed off.

"Can't what?"

"If I go back like this, they will do worse. I'm like a blank canvas for them now. They will do all they can." Snape was silent for a few seconds. A blank canvas. It may have escaped his notice. Life wasn't fair. Please.

"No, Harry. You won't be going back there." Harry swung around. Tears were filling his eyes. His green eyes with a red and puffy background. Tears begged to fall down the boy's face but he fought back.

"Dumbledore won't let you keep me." There was a hesitant silence. "He'll send me back. Reverse the injuries. I want them all." He heard himself say.

"No, Harry." Snape said soothingly. "This is not what you want or need. You're not going back." He said sternly yet, soothingly. "What?" The boy said nothing. "Into mood swings are we now?" The words seemed to just spill out of the Professors mouth and Harry glared.

"Oh piss off." Harry let the white rage take over. Snape opened his eyes, wide awake now.

"What did you just say?" He sat up straight. "You are NOT to speak to me like that. Even if you are the abused boy."

"Aren't we testy." Harry stabbed back.

"POTTER!" Snape roared. He stood up and leaned over Harry.

"What are you trying to do, professor?" Harry shot back.

"You can't just take your anger out on everyone else just because you mutt-godfather died and I found out about your abuse. Now. Go. To. Bed." Snape demanded, moving out the way for Harry to get up.

"Don't talk about Sirius."

"My, aren't we testy?" Snape sniggered, mocking him.

"Just say it, then." Harry made his hands into a fist.

"Say what?"

"Say you fucking hate him!"

"Harry-"

"No! Snape! Say it. Say you wanted him dead. Say-" Harry pulled out his wand. Snape swished his wand quicker and Harry's wand flew into his hand. "Why won't everyone say it? That I fucking killed him! It was all my fucking fault!" Harry broke out into a dry sob. "I killed Cedric. I killed everyone!" He yelled. "I'm a MURDERER!" He showed his wrist that had faint scars spelling out the word "murderer." He carved the word in into his own skin. "See, Professor? I'm nothing. I deserve all I get because I'm not a stupid savior. Call me the Golden Boy. But I'm not. Call me spoiled but I WISH! Fuck you!" He was breathing hard and started to feel the hot tears roll down his face. Snape was quiet. He bent down on one knee to see the boy crying and without a hesitant move, he pulled the boy into a hug. The boy didn't hug back so quickly. He flinched away but then leaned into the professor crying out to exhaustion.

Snape carried the boy and put him in the small bedroom he had magically added to his chambers. The room was dark green and silver. There was a circle pattern lined along the walls. The bed itself had dark green sheets and a silver lining. He placed the boy down who limply stopped hugging onto the tall man. "Sorry..." The boy mumbled out. Severus couldn't tell when. When was the time he became soft for James's child? When had he sworn to protect the boy? When?

Snape tucked the boy in, closed the door behind him not looking back, then went to his own room. He settled in bed thinking about the small boy. Why would he want the marks? Why would Dumbledore allow this? What was wrong with Dumbledore? These questions kept him up for the remainder of the morning. Another headache forming from his exhaustion.

3:00 AM: September

Harry was dreaming. No. He was living, again. "GET OVER HERE YOU FUCKING FREAK!"

"No! Please, Uncle Vernon! I'll be good! Please!" Venom got down from his chair.

"Crawl away you fucking freak." Harry began to cry. He started to crawl away from his uncle. This was when his uncle jumped on him. Crushing his ribs until Harry heard them shatter. His uncle took off Harry's three oversized pants off and pulled down his underwear. His uncle took down his own pants after undoing his belt. Harry shuddered and was thrashing to get away. Vernon placed the belt next to Harry. "I bet you want this, you fucking freak! You fucking slut! You fag!" Venom got his dick out and placed it at Harry's entrance. He thrusted in. Harry could only silently cry.

Harry didn't cry. Well that was just another lie he was telling himself. He doesn't cry. He never feels like crying. In reality he cries a lot. He is another baby. Everything hurts too much to not cry. Young Harry could only cry. Nine-year-old Harry could only cry…. Then it all went black and soothing.

Hey guys, I'm recovering this story to make it better. I will be making sure the timeline is matching with the sequence. I will also be using a lot from the books and movies to ensure the sequencing. I do NOT own anything from Harry potter. I give credit to J.K Rowling: The author of the Harry Potter universe! Leave reviews and inbox me with what you want to learn about or anything. Thanks.