Snape drank a calming tea, trying to keep himself from going completely mad. He had tried to seem calm in writing to Harry, but in truth it was killing him. He would give anything to be able to swoop in in proper death eater fashion, level the room, swoop up his son and apparate away to South America. But he knew that he couldn't – and any attempts on his part to intervene would likely end up with him having a magical restraining order if Harry was even allowed to come to Hogwarts after that. He couldn't risk all that for a slap – and he know he couldn't risk it even if things got worse then that as well. He had to play the long game, apply reason, not let silly emotions get in the way . . .
The notebook alerted that he had a message, and in the pit of Snape's stomach he knew it was bad news. Harry would not write him again so soon if he was just saying hi. Praying it was just whining about extra chores or bad food, Snape opened the notebook.
Vernon beat me.
Snape had heard the expressing "and then he saw red" before, and he didn't truly know the meaning until that moment. With those three words on the page he felt the world swim before him, his ears begin to buzz, and the light seem to change color. Forcing himself with the strictest occlumency to school his emotions, Snape closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
"Accio calming draught," he whispered, but with the force of his emotions behind the command the calming draught flew into his hand with force. He drank it in one gulp, the familiar bitter taste tracking down his throat. He needed his wits about him, not being overwhelmed with a desire to torture Vernon Dursley to death.
Snape also wanted to reply to Harry quickly, so within moments he felt able to reply. I am very sorry to hear that, he replied, hoping the answer was calm enough. What did he use to do it?
A strap, Harry replied.
Snape breathed a small sigh of relief, a strap was not the worst thing he could have been beaten with. Maybe it wasn't that bad. Maybe it was just a few taps with a belt to establish order or discipline, that didn't necessarily mean it had to have been a very harsh punishment.
Have a look at your injuries and tell me what they look like, Snape wrote. I packed some healing potions in your trunk so then I can tell you which ones to use. Also, this gives us a record of the injuries you have sustained that we can retrieve using a pensieve.
There's nothing there, Harry wrote after a minute. I mean, I should have welts between my neck and my knees, he beat me for a long time and really hard. And I'm still stiff and sore, so sore I can't sit down. But when I look at my skin I can't see anything.
Did he use his belt or something else? Snape asked. He swallowed reflexively, those details certainly put to rest any idea that Vernon had just given Harry a few taps to establish order. Who would beat a child from their neck to their knees?
He had another strap, not his belt, Harry answered. I'm not sure where he got it, but he had it on hand and ready.
Why did he beat you? Was it obvious misbehavior or were you pushed into it? Snape was under no delusion that there was anything Harry could have done to earn such a beating, but he wanted to know how much Harry was set up for this beating or if it was in response to particular misbehavior.
They had me cook dinner, and then they were sending me to bed without letting me eat any of it, Harry explained. I was saying that was unfair. He said it was cheek, and said he was going to give me the strap. I kind of panicked, he was so big and scary. I tried to accio my wand, but it didn't come. So then he pinned me over the arm of the couch, and pointed out this box and the mantle that he said was a dampener and would make it so I couldn't use magic. And then, well, he beat me really hard and long. It wasn't like a normal punishment like you'd give me or something, it was brutal. I think that he may have stopped because Dudley came in, I don't know. Dudley brought me a sandwich later.
Does he beat his son as well? Snape tried unsuccessfully to not picture the scene that Harry described, and even with the calming draught he was having trouble remaining calm. How dare that muggle?
No, Dudley said he'd never done that to him.
So what you're saying is that Vernon has two magical artifacts that are not standard ministry issue in his home that are particularly designed to make you helpless and miserable? That seems very strange. There, keep in logic mode, Snape told himself. This works much better.
I've never heard of the dampener before.
They are used very uncommonly, and mostly for compassionate situations like a wizard has gone insane or an underage wizard is having dangerous accidental magic situations. They are inconvenient because they suppress everyone's magic in the vicinity. But why would the ministry allow muggles to have one when your ability to defend yourself against a dark wizard could potentially save your life?
I'm glad this notebook still works if that's the case then.
It's powered by my magic, which is off site, Snape explained. It's also so little magic I'm sure it's skating by undetected.
So what's the second artifact?
That strap, of course, Snape wrote. Didn't it seem odd to you that he hit you with a separate strap rather than his belt? A belt would have been far more convenient. And he had it sitting there waiting for use, like he knew he was going to beat you with it that day? And then, after a severe beating, it left no marks? How many hours ago was the beating?
I fell asleep afterwards so I'm not sure, Harry confessed. But it was at dinner time.
So probably five hours, then, Snape calculated. That is not nearly enough time for your magic to repair the damage, especially with the dampener on. No, that strap is a dark artifact that is used to inflict pain but escape any muggle authority involvement.
There was a pause then, and Harry didn't know what to do in that moment. He knew that his father was working out a plan, and he knew that he just had to wait.
I need to see you, the words brought such relief to Harry that he almost began to cry. Lupin will be there in a few minutes to collect you.
Remus Lupin, who had been a friend to James Potter in school and who had been something of an ersatz uncle to Harry over the past years, appeared in Harry's bedroom with a crack of apparition.
"Remus!" Harry whispered with excitement.
"Harry!" he whispered back, knowing that he had to be quiet. "I'm here to get you out of here for an hour. What's this? Why is your room so full of junk?"
"Aunt Petunia said I couldn't throw it away," Harry explained.
"This is unhealthy," Remus pulled out a wand. "I'm not going to permit you to live like this."
"There's a dampener on," Harry explained. "My wand didn't work."
"I know," Remus smiled. "That's why your dad sent me. Magics of that type don't work on werewolves, we're impervious to that sort of thing."
With a swoosh of his wand, the junk pile shrunk down smaller and smaller, and he swooshed it all into the closet, closing the door firmly.
"There, that's better," he smiled. "Now you can tell them you just tidied it away into the closet."
"Thank you!" Harry smiled. "That's so much better!"
"Now let's get you to your father. Come and hold my arm."
Harry held his arm and braced himself for the inevitable jerk as they apparated. He lost his footing as they landed, and he yelped in pain as his back touched the ground. But then he felt the strong, gentle hands of his father helping him up and he began to cry in relief.
"Now, now, it hasn't been that long since you've seen me," he soothed.
"It's been forever," Harry sniffed.
"Let's have a look at that back of yours," Snape told him. "Take off your shirt and lie down on the couch."
"What happened?" Remus asked, highly suspicious.
"They beat him," Snape answered simply. "But with some sort of magical artifact that makes it so you can't see the results."
"I'll kill them . . ." Remus growled, suddenly reminding Snape that he was, in fact, a werewolf.
"Steady, Harry needs you calm and reasonable now," Snape told him. "We need a plan, not vengeance."
"How about a plan for vengeance . . ."
"Anything happens to those muggles and it's you and I in Azkaban, you know that," Snape told him. "No matter how clever our alibi, they will know it's us. Harry needs us for when we get him out of there. Legally."
"How about breaking out some of that deatheater stuff?" Remus growled. "I can't believe you're so calm!"
"I've been through every scenario, don't you think I don't want to just go in and level them?" Snape snapped. "That I would give my potions arm to have five minutes with the bastard that took my son from me? But we are grown-ups now, and we have to think of Harry first."
"But . . ."
"Accio calming draught," Snape commanded, and then handed Remus the resulting brew. "Take it," he ordered. "I need you thinking, not growling; I've already had to take one myself. And let me tend Harry, who has been in pain long enough."
Snape then turned toward Harry, who was waiting for him with his shirt off and laying face down on the couch.
"Revelio," Snape ordered, pointing his wand at Harry's back.
The spell rippled over Harry's skin, revealing angry, purple-red welts criss-crossing his skin. They were raised and swollen, and some were even oozing slightly. Snape felt the heavy weight in his stomach of confirmation, and he heard Lupin take a sharp intake of breath.
"Well, that explains that," Snape stated practically. "To treat this best, Harry, there are salves and potions. But I want to send you back with treatments as well and it will be hard for you to apply your own salves . . ."
"You're sending him back?!" Lupin asked incredulously.
"You know we have to," Snape told him darkly. "We don't have a choice. And his coming here again needs to be a rare occurrence."
"Can't we just abscond to somewhere?" Lupin persisted. "How about New Zealand?"
"I know that we can't," Harry interrupted. "And even there I don't want to feel that you two gave up your lives just to get me out of a month with these jerks."
"The best plan is to figure out whom orchestrated this and bring it down," Snape agreed. "Here, Harry, take your potion. Let's see how much relief you get from the potion alone."
Harry quaffed the potion, and then grimaced at the flavor.
"Did you strain this through your gym socks?" he asked, sputtering.
"Don't ask or I'll tell you the ingredients," Snape cocked an eyebrow. But it felt really good to joke with his son a little – it showed that the boy still had humor and wasn't broken. "You'll wish for something as pedestrian as gym socks. Now hold still, it will take a few minutes."
"How do you know someone's behind this?" Lupin pressed, watching Harry settle down to rest.
"These muggles have two magical artifacts designed to torture Harry and protect themselves from muggle or magical interference that the ministry would never give them," Snape told him. "The ministry might give them the dampener if they were truly scared of magic, but they would never give them a strap that would help them elude child abuse charges from muggles. There has to be someone in the magical world pulling the strings behind this."
"Who hates me this much?" Harry asked, sounding young and scared.
"Unfortunately, our suspect list is rather long," Snape conceded. "And includes almost any deatheater trying to gain favor from the dark Lord. I'm sorry Harry, I cannot tell you right away who it is, but I can tell you that I won't rest until I know who it is."
"Thank you, Dad," Harry answered. "I think I'm feeling a little better now."
Indeed, the welts were starting to shrink and fade a bit, and the oozing had closed up and stopped. "It looks like it's helping a lot," Snape told him. "I'm going to apply the salve to the ones on your back, and I'll give you some privacy to put it on your backside. When you're at the Dursleys by yourself you can just do the best you can if this happens again."
"What can we do to protect him?" Lupin asked.
"I think you should check on him regularly," Snape told him as he applied the salve. "If he's hurt enough he can't get to the notebook, or it's taken from him, he has no way to reach us. You could check on him every night I don't hear from him, and you can hone in on his trace if he's not in his room."
"I can do that," Lupin nodded.
"I wish there was a potion or a spell I could apply to protect you, Harry," he told him. "But there is not. However, I'm going to include some Draught of Peace in your pocket on your return home, and if you can slip some into the food without being seen then go ahead. Perhaps a more peaceful Vernon will be a less abusive one."
"If I'm doing most of the cooking then I should be able to do that," Harry agreed.
"Remember, just a few drops should do it," Snape warned him. "Too much will turn them temporarily into vegetables. However, if you're in danger, that's not a bad way to protect yourself. Except when it wears off from an overdose, there will be hell to pay. Draught of Peace hangover from overuse is no joke. You're likely to get the strap just for breathing."
"Any other ideas?" Harry asked.
"I shall think on it," Snape told him. "If I think of anything else, I will get it to you. Here, I've applied salve to all your wounds now, and I will give you a moment to treat your backside while I retrieve the Draught of Peace. Lupin, if you would accompany me?"
"Right behind you," he growled.
They stepped out of the room, leaving Harry to his own ministrations.
"You need to get control of yourself," Snape intoned. "I can't use you if you're going to fly off the handle."
"I'll keep control," Lupin promised. "How are you keeping control?"
"I worked for the Dark Lord," Snape told him. "I can do this, and so can you. If we are unsuccessful, Harry is the one who loses. We cannot do anything stupid, we have to help him survive this until we can set him free. Are you up for this challenge?"
"I will do it," Lupin agreed. "What do I do?"
"There is not a spell or potion we can use to protect him," Snape shook his head sadly. "But at least we can keep tabs on him. As I said to Harry, I am going to instruct him to write to me every night in his notebook with a status update on his health and treatment, and if he doesn't you are going to go check on him."
"That makes sense," Lupin nodded.
"And we are going to be working hard on uncovering what is going on," Snape told him. "I have a list of who could be behind this, and we will be investigating. I do not believe for one moment that the muggles just happened to find out about the Potter fortune and orchestrated this themselves."
"Whatever you need," Lupin promised. "I'm game."
"The first thing I need is for you to be calm and in your right mind," Snape told him. "It does neither of us any good to fly off the handle. Harry has to go back, and it is likely he's going to face things we wish to spare him. They have already shown their propensity for physical violence; we have to believe that it is likely to continue. Harry needs our strength right now, not empty gestures or posturing."
"New Zealand . . ."
"Is not an option and you know it," Snape told him firmly. "He's underaged and has a trace, there is nowhere in this world safe for him. Here we can face our enemies and hopefully get him back to Hogwarts rather than trying to live a life on the run. And getting you and I put in Azkaban helps nobody."
"I will do it," Lupin told him. "Just tell me what I need to do."
After Harry was as healed as Snape could make him and bundled off with the potions Snape could find useful, he watched Lupin apparate with the boy. The iron-will he held over his emotions began to fray. The reason for the control over his emotions was gone now and back to his abusive new home, so he needed a release. He apparated away.
. . .
Lupin returned from his errand, feeling horrible about leaving Harry there, but at least feeling better about the medicines and the food in stasis they were able to secret away in his trunk. The food may not be the most amazing food ever, but at least Harry wouldn't starve. But there was nothing they could do to prevent the violence beyond a hope that the potion might help mellow people out a bit. But when he returned from his trip, Severus was gone. The little house at Spinner's End that he shared with Harry was empty.
Snape, in the meantime, was deep in the forbidden forest. He drew his wand, selected a tree, and began blasting full force. It may not be as satisfying as blasting a human, but these old trees were sturdy and impervious to much magic, so they could take a lot of abuse. A satisfying explosion of fire exploded near the base of the tree, shaking it soundly as Snape's curse hit it fully. Several minutes passed with him blasting trees as hard as he could, shaking them with small explosions, until suddenly his curse hit something different than a tree – it hit a shield. Snape paused for a minute, his body whip-tense, ready for an attack. Then, as the smoke from the latest explosion cleared, he saw Lupin by the tree, his wand drawn. An unspoken communication between the two men passed, and they both raised their wands together.
Later, when Snape thought about that duel, he honestly would not be able to remember much about it. He could remember that the spells were not meant to murder each other, though if either of them had failed to shield properly they would have certainly felt it. But rather it was a flurry of frustration expressed in magic, and they both attacked each other until they were utterly exhausted, and eventually stood by each other, leaning over and panting in exhaustion.
"How did you find me?" Snape eventually ground out.
"Deductive reasoning," Lupin answered, still out of breath. "You used to do this as a student when we really pissed you off."
They stood there for a few more minutes, catching their breath, and surveying the damage. They knew that the marks the trees had absorbed from their duel, even the blasting that Snape had done at the beginning, would be gone in a few days. The forbidden forest was rich in its own magic; their expression of frustration would leave no lasting mark.
"Firewhiskey?" Snape offered, regaining his normal breathing.
"That sounds perfect," Lupin answered.