Severus Snape was a very unhappy man as he stalked down Privet Drive, cloaked in disillusion and notice-me-not charms. Invisible to muggles and most wizards, he didn't hide his disdainful look at all the snobby faces out tending their lawns, or seen in windows watching the telly. He reached Number 4 and stopped. He couldn't believe Dumbledore had forced him to go check on the brat after he had broken the rules and used underage magic. The Headmaster was busy clearing it up at the Ministry, and Minerva needed to stay at Hogwarts to ready for the school year.
That didn't make the ex spy any happier about having to go check on the blasted child of his worst enemy. The house looked normal enough on the outside, and the dour man loomed unnoticed in the window to peek inside. Dumbledore had assured him he wouldn't need to actually address the boy, just observe and see if there was a possible case of accidental magic. Severus highly doubted it. In his humble opinion, Potter was just as arrogant and spoiled as his father before him and was probably just showing off.
Inside the living room, he saw a revoltingly large child staring at the telly with an open mouth, laughing obnoxiously every few moments between shoving chips into the maw of his face. Severus curled his lip in disgust. Potter was not in the room, but Severus also noticed the distinct lack of Potter in any of the family pictures. The lard of a child was in all of them, an adult version with a walrus's mustache, and a thin, pinched woman he could recognize as a horribly aged Petunia Evans.
Curiosity piqued, Severus rounded the house to look through other windows. He saw no one until he got to the back of the house and looked into the kitchen. There he saw Lily's older sister, dressed in a garish romper with yellow sunflowers, fixing a bowl of soup. She wore a look of slight disgust as she dumped the can into a bowl, mixed in some water, and put it on a tray. However, she didn't bother heating the soup before she left the room. A nagging feeling of worry hit Severus and he quickly broke into the house, despite Dumbledore telling him he didn't need to bother. The back door was unlocked and slid open and closed silently, and his long stride allowed Severus to catch up to Petunia as she started up the stairs.
Her steps were quick to a door shut with many locks, and a freshly installed cat door at the bottom. She said nothing but shoved the tray through the door before turning and heading back downstairs, passing by Severus hiding in the corner. Now feeling even more worried and angry at that feeling, Severus ducked down to peek through the cat flap. Potter was indeed locked inside, hungrily slurping up the cold broth of the soup. He held his right arm close to his chest, and even without an examination Severus could tell that it had been broken and left untreated. Somehow Potter managed to pick up the bowl and scoop the vegetables into his owl's cage, softly reassuring her when she hooted indignantly.
Just like that, every preconceived notion that Severus had for Potter shattered. He was a shunned boy who ached for acceptance just as he had at that age, and Severus never gave him a chance. So many things became clear in that moment, and a familiar cold rage overtook Severus. He would be having some words with Dumbledore, but first, Petunia. Severus went back downstairs and to the kitchen, where Petunia was busying herself with making a roast. He watched a moment, letting himself calm down the fire in his veins into cool ice. It wouldn't do to curse the woman and end up in prison. Instead, he quietly settled at the table and waited until her back was turned to put the roast in the oven when he cancelled his concealment charms while putting up a silencing spell. Wouldn't do to have her brat come charging in.
"Hello, Tuney," he spoke coolly. Petunia shrieked and whipped around, badly startled. Her eyes widened as her unwelcome visitor smirked, and her face went from pale to red.
"You! What are you doing here?! And don't you dare call me that you- you-" she spat, but struggled to come up with a good enough insult. Severus clicked his tongue at her mockingly.
"Manners, Tuney. I am a guest in your home. I'm here to check up on Potter. Headmaster's request," he drawled, leaning back in his chair with obvious comfort while Petunia stood shaking with fear and fury.
"Of course you would become a teacher at that school for freaks. I imagine no sane employer would have the likes of you, dirty monster that you are," she sneered, but shrank back as Severus stood up to his full height. Petunia had never been a tall woman, but Severus was indeed a tall man. His eyes glittered with malice as he cleared the kitchen in only a couple of steps and had her pinned against the wall with his presence.
"Careful, pot, with who you call black. Tell me about Potter," he growled, and though Petunia despised him she couldn't help the sound of fear that escaped her as he towered over her. She glared at him with a good show of spite but it slipped when he curled his lip.
"He- he's fine. At a friend's, now. Getting into trouble, most likely," she said with only a slight tremble, growing confused at Severus's malicious smile.
"I don't believe you, Petunia. Are you really going to try to tell me that he isn't starving in his room upstairs, locked away?" he asked, and she turned deathly white. He narrowed his eyes at her before speaking again. "Now tell me the truth. What have you done to the boy?"
"I haven't done anything! I never touched a hair on his head!" she screeched, but once again Severus could tell she was lying. He narrowed his eyes at her before forcing himself into her mind and memories.
He saw Potter as a toddler, probably shortly after he was orphaned. He waddled on the floor while Petunia fussed over Dudley, but Potter tripped and fell, busting his lip on the floor. He cried out for his mother, reaching for Petunia with his chubby hands. She flinched away from him and he fell again, crying harder, which only served to upset Dudley in her arms.
"Don't you call me that! And look, you upset my Diddy! Shame on you!" she yelled at the wailing child before storming off to calm down her own child, leaving Potter confused and crying on the floor.
The scene changed and Potter was older and much scrawnier. It looked like Petunia was at a parent teacher conference. The teacher seemed harsh, but his features softened when he brought up Potter being involved in a number of fights that appeared to be a case of self defense. When he mentioned the main opponent was his cousin, her son, Petunia went rigid.
"Don't you dare try to accuse my little angel of bullying that heathen! He is a troublemaker at home and it seems like he's one at school too. Good day!" she ranted before grabbing her purse and leaving a defeated teacher at the chair.
The next memory was even worse. Potter, looking to be a similar age to the previous memory, struggled to get all the breakfast on the table for his family. As soon as he went to sit, however, Dursley lept up yelling about burned bacon and grabbed his arm. He yanked Potter out of his chair and ignored the yelp of pain when it twisted his arm unnaturally, and possibly yanked his arm out of its socket. Petunia said nothing while her husband dragged her nephew away from the table and shoved him into the small cupboard under the stairs, locking him inside before returning to the table, while his wife dutifully set about making more bacon.
Severus pulled out of her mind, having seen enough. Petunia slumped, unused to the invasion, and shook her head.
"You used magic on me! How dare you!"
"How dare I? How dare you! He is your flesh and blood, Petunia, all that is left! Your sister would weep for how heartless you have become, God rest her soul! I will be leaving with Potter today and so help me you shall never see him again. You may see that as a blessing, but how will those violent men react now that you will be the weakest one here?" he hissed before turning on his heel and heading up for Potter's room.
His wand quickly unlocked all five locks and he barged in to see Potter sitting against the bed, startled and frightened by his sudden appearance. His face changed to confusion as he recognized his feared professor.
"Professor Snape? What are you doing here?" he asked, but Severus ignored his question as he looked around the room. It was bare of any personality, holding only the basics of a bed, nightstand, and dresser. There were bars on the window and it looked nailed down as well. Potter was just as scrawny as the year before, looking incredibly bewildered while he attempted to hide his horribly bruised arm.
"Gather your things, Potter. I'm here to take you to Hogwarts," he said as gently as he could, despite the rage still building in heart. If there was one thing that could rile up Severus Snape more than the Mauraders, it was witnessing child abuse. He breathed deeply through his nose; despite his temper, he absolutely could not take it out on Potter. It would require restraint, as the young boy still had quite a bit of sass.
"Why did they send you? I mean, not that I'm not grateful, it's just, I mean-" Potter started but Severus shut him up with a withering look.
"Just gather them, Potter. I will explain later," he said, but Potter just looked at his feet.
"It's all down in the cupboard. I'm not allowed my wand or books until it's time to go back," he explained, and Severus nodded. He should have known. He nodded and looked around the room before pulling out his wand and summoning out all the clothes. He used his other hand to grab the owl's cage, not wanting the boy to carry anything with his broken arm.
"Is there anything you need from this room?" he asked, and Potter shook his head. "Very well, follow me."
Potter followed him down the stairs, anxiously hoping it wasn't just a crazy dream brought on by hunger and exhaustion. But hearing Dudley screeching at Snape's presence made it somehow more real, but then Petunia snapping at her son to be quiet made it feel more absurd. Snape blasted the lock off the cupboard under the stairs (a secret fantasy of Harry's) and levitated out the trunk inside.
"Make sure everything you need is in here, and that nothing is missing. We will not be returning," Snape instructed, and Harry nodded swiftly and used his good arm to poke around, reassuring himself that the album of his parents was still there. When he nodded again, having pocketed his wand just to feel the familiar weight and thrum of magic, Snape snapped the lid shut and threw one last snarl at Petunia, who shrank away while hissing at a now sobbing Dudley to keep it down.
Snape disillusioned himself and Harry's trunk before telling him to go outside, and to head to Miss Figg's house. Harry followed the directions without a fuss. Petunia snapping at Dudley had made his mind up that he was dreaming, and there was no point arguing with a dream. Miss Figg was surprised to see Harry knocking on her door, but immediately ushered him in and fixed some tea. She chatted on about her cats, and how it was so good to see him again, and tutted at his bruised arm. Harry couldn't think of anything to say, besides thanks, but thankfully Snape showed up fairly quickly, looking quite smug and pocketing a shrunken version of Harry's trunk.
"Don't worry about them ever trying anything funny with you again, Potter. I highly doubt they would want to reach out now. Here, let me see that arm," he instructed, voice still naturally harsh but also amused. Not wanting to question his dream, Harry held out his broken arm with a pained face. Snape was surprisingly gentle and he took a hold of his elbow and casted a healing spell. Harry felt immediate relief when the broken bone fused back together, though the bruising remained.
"That will do for now. I expect Madame Pomphrey will want to do a more thorough job when we arrive. Take my arm, Potter. I shall Apparate us to the school gates."
"Apparate, sir? I don't think I'm familiar…" Harry said, obviously reluctant to admit his lack of knowledge. Snape managed to contain his response to just an eyeroll, but did not act on his want to spit out a sharp remark.
"It is a teleportation spell, one you will learn later in your education. You may be sick afterwards. It is a little… rough. But very useful," he explained in a drawl, and Harry nodded though his eyebrows were still furrowed in confusion. Snape noted that he would need to do a more thorough explanation later. First, he had an appointment to yell at Dumbledore.
Harry dutifully took Snape's arm, though he still looked unsure. Snape grabbed his other arm and they took off, the feeling of being in a tight tunnel overwhelming the two. It was thankfully over quickly, and Snape was surprised that Harry managed to keep his stomach, though he did turn very green for a few minutes. Snape gave him the space to breathe, and to protect his shoes should he succumb to his nausea. He sat on the ground, but his deep breathing quickly relieved him.
"Steady there, Potter. Take your time," Snape advised, but Harry shakily rose to his feet anyway.
"Thank you, sir, but I think I'm alright. That was rougher than I expected," he said, but gave a nervously brave smile. Snape still hated it, but forced himself to not sneer as he wanted. He motioned Harry up towards the castle, and the two walked quietly up towards Hogwarts. Harry suddenly stopped in his tracks, making Snape stop as well.
"Wait, sir, where is Hedwig? You had her cage, but you didn't teleport her…" Harry asked, guilty surprise written over his face. Snape could not resist his smirk in that moment, but did not lay into the boy for being careless.
"I released her when leaving that wretched home. She was itching for a flight, but she knows her way here. Do not fret, I have the cage with me. Your owl may take a couple of days to arrive, but she needs the time to spread her wings," Snape explained, and Harry flushed, suddenly feeling stupid for having not noticed, and not considering that Snape would have let her fly her way to Hogwarts. He was surprised that Snape did not berate him for such a lack of attention, and he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. But no harsh words came from his professor, who began trekking up the hill again. He had done a sudden shift in attitude towards him, and Harry was more convinced from that in his theory that it was all a dream.
Nevertheless, he followed his dour professor through the doors of the school. Snape passed him his shrunken items, and told him to go up to the Hospital Wing in order to get his arm fully healed. Harry wasn't about to argue with getting his arm healed. It was a weird walk through the mostly empty castle, and the portraits whispering about him did nothing to ease his nerves about it. As he took to the stairs, Harry realized that it may not have been a dream at all. That realization made Harry suddenly feel ill all over again. Snape knew how bad the Dursley's truly were, and it had been bad enough for the hateful professor to take him from the house that Dumbledore had ordered him to stay in. He was back at Hogwarts, and Madame Pomphrey would do a full physical and see all his old injuries as well.
Harry felt equal parts relief and fear at the prospect. He instinctively felt like nothing would be truly done about his treatment at the Durley's. Dumbledore would make him return, and all of Snape's threats to his aunt would be hollow. He shuddered to think about the consequences he would face after he went home- after all, he had blown up his horrid aunt. Harry believed fully that if he returned, he would be killed and buried in the back yard. Hell, they would probably make him dig his own grave.
With those morbid thoughts, he arrived at the Hospital Wing and gulped heavily, then pushed open the door. Madame Pomphrey came bursting out her office, clearly startled at someone coming in. Her eyes widen when she realized it was a student who came in, and not staff.
"Mr. Potter! Whyever are you in my Hospital Wing?" she asked, scanning him with her eyes for obvious injuries. Harry shrugged, sheepishly scratching the back of his head with his good arm.
"Well, Professor Snape told me to come up here," he said, but was immediately cut off by the stern matron. She ushered him over to a bed and began tutting at him.
"Professor Snape, eh? I'll be sure to talk to him later. For now, let me heal that arm for you and we will do a full physical. You've only been in here for serious injuries, I haven't had the chance for a full scan," she said, and Harry was not about to argue with the stubborn nurse. She began waving her wand over his arm, making the bones more solid and checking on the bruising before telling him he would would need bruise reduction cream for the rest. Then she begain checking all over him, and shaking her head at the readings. After a few minutes of muttering to herself and using a self-writing quill to take notes, Pomphrey finally stepped back and eyed Harry with concern.
"I had thought, before, that your arm previously having been pulled out of socket was the result of Quiddich, but it was earlier than that. I saw all the ones I treated you for, but far more in the past. Mr. Potter, what in the world has happened to you?" she asked, worry making her voice warble. Harry looked down, ashamed, and half shrugged his shoulder. His throat felt like it had closed up, and he realized he was near tears.
"It was my family," he mumbled, but Pomphrey seemed to have understood him well enough, as told by her sharp intake of breath. She gently put a hand on his shoulder, and gave him a sad look. Harry despised it but held his tongue.
"Don't you worry, child. I'll be having words with Dumbledore. Loud ones, possibly a hexing," she assured him, and the mental image brought a laugh out of him. With the revelation of his abuse to two staff members, he was beginning to get weak and shaky. The rug would be pulled out from under him any moment, as soon as Dumbledore saw him. He just knew it.
Pomphrey encouraged him to lay back and rest while they waited for Professor Snape, and was kind enough to return to her office as to leave him somewhat alone. Harry deeply appreciated the gesture and used the time to compose himself and brace for his eventually booting off to the Dursley's. His friends would miss him for a while, he was sure, but soon the world would forget all about scrawny Harry Potter, killed by muggles and never the savior of the wizarding world. It burned in his heart to think of, but he needed to face the truth sooner or later.
He was not sure how long he focused on his sad demise, but it seemed like only moments before Snape arrived. He wore a bittersweet look on his face, and Harry felt his heart sink even with the expectation.
"Potter, come with me. We shall get you set up in your dormitory. Madame Pomphrey, thank you for your assistance," he said, but the matron huffed immediately.
"Severus, don't you brush me off! I know about Mr. Potter's situation. I demand he stay here for more than a night, and I will be talking to Dumbledore about it-" she started to rant, but Snape waved a to cut her off.
"He won't be leaving this school for that place ever again. Trust me. But, should you wish to continue to nag Dumbledore, I am more than happy to encourage it," he said with a mischievous grin. Pomphrey seemed to calm down, but adjusted her robes and held up her nose proudly.
"Believe me, I shall. Take care of Mr. Potter, Professor," she said, then left the wing to go talk to the headmaster. Snape began walking immediately after her, and Harry had to jog to catch up. The fast pace coupled with his lack of nutrition for the past month made his breath too heavy to ask any questions. They managed to get to Gryffindor tower quickly, and Snape muttered a password to the Fat Lady, and motioned Harry forward. The young wizard obliged, mostly for want of sitting down, and the door shut behind them in the comfortable and familiar room.
"Sir, is it true that I don't have to go back? Ever?" Harry finally asked, and Snape leveled him with a serious stare. Harry gulped and backed into a chair, which only made Snape look even taller.
"I do not lie, Potter, and I especially would not lie about this. Your home shall be Hogwarts until it need no longer be. But, it does come with a cost I highly doubt you would find… palatable. Dumbledore has transferred your guardianship to me. I believe he intended it as a punishment for forcing his hand, but I do not believe it need to be such to either of us. I am well aware of your distrust and dislike of me, and it is very much mutual.
However, I do intend to provide care for you. I will ensure your educational needs are met, that you have your material needs, and that you remain healthy physically. I am not a very emotional man, and may not be able to provide you with a… paternal level of care. But the family that is Hogwarts will all try to fill in that gap, I am sure. I will also begin your training for the coming war. We all feel it in our bones, it is approaching, and I will ensure you are as prepared as one can be for something so brutal. I will be honest with you on things I feel you can handle knowing, and if you are not I will tell you when you are. It is also necessary that we begin teaching you Occlumency as soon as you feel more emotionally at ease," Snape explained, pacing his room as if he were teaching a class.
"Sir? Is that a prank? Not that I'm not grateful, but it is difficult to picture you as a father…" Harry asked, fearing his rage at his arrogance. Snape took a deep breath and pinched his nose, but he did not yell.
"This is no prank, Potter! And I shall not play father for you. I shall be your guardian and ensure you live to graduate and see the war won. After that, we need not contact each other again. I only ask that you trust me enough for that basic task for now. It will take getting used to, for both of us, and after more trust is built we can start on that training. For now, though," Snape grumbled, clearly not happy about the situation. He snapped his long fingers, and a house elf appeared in a moment. Harry jumped, but it was not Dobby who answered the call. It was to Harry's immense relief.
"Lonnie, Mr. Potter is requiring food. Please send a suitable meal up here, and some tea as well. Thank you," Snape addressed to the elf who wore a nice pillowcase embroidered with the Hogwarts seal, far different from the disgusting rag Dobby was forced to wear. Lonnie snapped and a few moments later, a full feast was placed in front of Harry, who suddenly felt ravenous.
"Eat up, Potter, but don't push yourself too far. Be mindful of your limits and pace yourself. After dinner, I would recommend going to bed. It has been a long, stressful day for both of us, and there is still much to discuss before your semester begins. For now, rest is very necessary. I shall see you at breakfast," Snape advised, and turned to leave.
"Wait, you aren't ordering me?" Harry asked, more surprised at that then any of the previous treatment that day. The professor gave him a withering look.
"Potter, I will be no more able to control you as a guardian than I can as a teacher. You will always do what you wish, and though I am stubborn I'm still smart enough to recognize a losing battle when I see it. I can only offer suggestions and hope you have enough sense to follow them," he quipped, then left Harry alone. Harry had to admit it had a certain logic to it, but all thought on the day dissipated as he began eating. It was so wonderful to have a hot meal again that he almost moaned with delight but held it back.
It did not take long for the rich food to begin to upset his poorly used and shrunken stomach, so he sighed as he got up and left it behind. He hoped the house elves wouldn't be offended. His weariness caught up with him as he began up the stairs, and arrived to see his bed already made up for him, looking comfier than ever. He removed his trunk and unshrunk it, putting it at the foot of his bed. He wondered if Snape would take him to Diagon Alley for books, of if he would entrust it to the Weasley's once again.
He was growing too tired to think of his new life situation, and after changing into pajamas he crawled into bed and sighed in bliss. The Dursley's gave him a lumpy, pokey, old mattress that hardly provided any comfort to sleep on, but Hogwarts beds were the perfect level of softness and warmth for ensuring a good night's sleep. It felt lonely without the snores of his dorm mates, but a quiet and soft rain started on the window, and it replaced the silence with a soothing patter. Tomorrow would be a new day for curiosity and exploring what it meant to have Snape as a guardian, but that night in bed, Harry drifted off to his first good sleep in months, in the comfort of his true home.