Snape woke the next morning, hearing Harry calling him in the other room. "I'm coming!" he yelled back, drowsy with sleep. As he sat up and scrubbed his face with his hand, he realized that Harry was gone, that what he had heard had been in his dream. His heart sank, remembering everything. Sighing deeply, he set his jaw to endure another day. If Harry could endure the Dursleys, the least he could do was to endure Harry's absence.

Forcing his brain to think of practicalities, he thought about his current realities. Lupin had slept on his couch last night after he had stayed late with Harry, so he would tidy Harry's bedroom enough to accommodate the nomadic werewolf. Lupin had been apologetic about his lack of accommodations until school started and he began to teach, and Snape had rolled his eyes and Accio'd a blanket for the man. Given the work Lupin was currently doing, it would be handy to have him on hand, so he should make up Harry's room enough so that Lupin could stay as needed with more dignity than a couch.

Hard things best done before breakfast, he told himself, preparing to enter Harry's room for the first time since the boy had left. Though it had only been a few days, Snape had almost felt superstitious about it – but he also knew the deeper reason for his hesitancy. It felt like trespassing in one way, but in the even more terrible way he worried that it wouldn't. He worried that it would feel like Harry didn't live there anymore and the room was more of a guest room than the room he had raised Harry in since that fateful November morning.

. . .

Cradling a sleeping toddler in his arms, Snape surveyed the dour room that was the second bedroom in the house – the bedroom he had grown up in. It was crammed with the detritus of Snape's own childhood and household – things he had never bothered cleaning out. The whole house had existed in a state of perpetual neglect, Snape had barely bothered to move in in the summers. He dropped some things off, and spent most of his summers coming and going with spying, conferences, and gathering ingredients. Suddenly, holding a sleeping toddler in his arms, he realized that this was going to have to change and change very quickly. He quickly transfigured a crib and placed his precious bundle inside, and set to work with the job of banishing a lifetime's worth of broken household items, stray papers, and stained furniture from the second bedroom. Once it was clear, he looked at the walls with some doubt – anything he could do would only be temporary.

Suddenly, he heard a pop! And a soft noise behind him. Swirling around with his wand in his hand, he stepped unconsciously in front of the sleeping baby.

"I am Dotz," a small voice squeaked. "Headmaster sent me!"

"Dotz," Snape echoed, not lowering his wand.

"Headmaster says you are needings some help, sir," the house elf told him. "He says you have a baby."

"I can do it myself," Snape told the small creature, but did not actually order it to leave.

"I can help," she replied. "Please, please let me help? Hogwarts is clean and theres are so many elves there and here . . ." she looked around in wonder. "Heres I be needed."

Snape looked at the small creature, and feeling his sudden adrenaline dissipate a little, realized that sending a Hogwarts elf would be exactly what Dumbledore would do. And the help would be welcome.

"Prove yourself," Snape told her, not lowering his wand.

"Sirs knows that House elves cannot lies to Wizards," she told him sweetly. "Please, sirs, what should I do?"

"Make an oath."

"Really?" she asked, delighted. "You want an oath with Botz? I can have a real family?"

"It's the only way I know you will be secure," Snape told her. "Did Dumbledore approve you to stay?"

"He said to do whatevers you neededs, sir," she answered brightly.

"Then he just lost himself an elf," Snape told her firmly.

The oath process for a House elf was similar to that of a wizard's oath, and although Snape hadn't done it before it was easy enough look up and perform. Soon Botz had sworn to serve Snape and his family and descendants, forsaking all others, with her life if necessary. Snape found it oddly touching how serious she took her vow, and how she touched both his forehead and the forehead of the sleeping Harry Potter when she made her vow, sealing them as her people.

"Now that you are part of the family," Snape told her. "I can trust you with all of our secrets as well."

"Yes, sirs," she answered brightly.

"Then I need you to help me set up a nursery for young Harry," Snape told her. "I know my limitations at transfiguration and household spells, but I understand that House Elves are often very gifted at them."

"Yes sirs!" she answered with great energy. "This room will be readys for him! Mys family will have a snug home, theys will."

And Botz was true to her word. Over the next few days she transformed Harry's nursery into a soft, sweet space with soft yellow wallpaper and spotlessly clean, polished floors. Snape received baby gifts of blankets and clothes from order members, quite unexpectedly, and Botz neatly organized them in drawers. Though Harry's whereabouts were kept secret from the wizarding world at large, between Botz and Molly Weasley, he had everything he needed.

And Botz wasn't just about the cooking and the cleaning either, she doted on her new charge with such devotion that it touched the Potion Master's heart. Harry was at first very puzzled and curious by the small creature, but he soon grew to understand that Botz was a source of food, comfort, stories, and she could always find a toy for him. Though neither Snape nor Harry knew much of the long tradition of House elves acting and nannies to wizarding children, Botz quickly became a member of the family and Snape trusted her completely.

It wasn't until a year later, when for Harry's protection Snape took a position at Hogwarts, that they left their "snug" home and moved into the quarters at the school. But they always returned – school holidays, breaks, an occasional weekend – and Botz was always waiting for them with fragrant baking and a well-tended garden. This was home.

. . .

"I can sleep on the couch," Lupin said quietly, bringing Snape out of his reminiscing. He had been watching the somber Potion master in his son's empty room and recognized a man stricken with grief, but trying not to show it. "I don't mind."

"Nonsense," Snape answered, shaking himself a little. "That makes no sense. Harry would want you comfortable, and he has a perfectly good bed in here. And I need you fully rested with your wits about you. I would have told you last night to sleep in here when you got back if I had remembered in time. I am in here this morning, well, I just wanted to make sure he had left the room in such a state it was suitable for you."

"It looks suitable to me," Lupin said, looking around.

"It would appear Botz cleaned up after the boy," Snape nodded. "I doubt he would have left it this neat. She is always bad about doing that for him."

"She loves him."

"Yes, of course, she helped raise him," Snape sniffed. "You're back and rested? How was he?"

"Upset, of course, and disturbed he'd been dosed with something," Lupin said grimly. "I mean, it is a very . . . invasive feeling to have something like that done to you."

"I'm just glad he was able to recognize it," Snape agreed. "Not many lads his age would have."

"And to think I thought he was too young for Occlumency," Lupin whistled lowly.

"One is never too young to shield their mind," Snape answered austerely. "But now that we know he has been tampered with, I want to know who would have given him that potion? If it's the potion I think it is then it's a class four potion, highly restricted, and only allowed in certain cases. There's no way they should be giving that to an underage boy that hasn't even been convicted of a crime? It makes no sense."

"There is a lot more here than we realize," Lupin agreed. "I will follow up today with my contact at the ministry, and I think we need to find out more about where these artifacts might have come from. I mean, the dampener was probably easy enough, but there's no way that strap is some sort of standard issue, nor would that potion if you're right about it."

"I'm rarely wrong," Snape answered with a steady nod.

"And there's also the matter of how the Dursleys would know to ask for those items," Lupin pondered. "I seem to remember them being very anti-magic before."

"It might help if you could get a look at them," Snape told him. "You can take James' cloak with you so you won't be seen. If we're lucky there might be an identifying mark on them."

"Not to change the subject, but I'm worried about Harry," Lupin confessed, looking down. "He's just a boy after all, and this is his first time separated from you. He won't admit it as much to me, but I can tell he's very frightened."

"Good," Snape told him, completely surprising Lupin. "I'm glad he's frightened. If he thought this was some sort of lark, then I would be tempted to strangle him. But if he knows the stakes and he is adequately assessing his enemies, then I know his head will be in the game and he will work to keep himself safe. He's quite intelligent for the most part if he can just keep focused."

"But surely you don't want him to live like that . . ."

"Of course not!" Snape agreed. "Would that he were nearly anywhere else! But I do not have the luxury of that choice right now, do I? So I would have him live with his wits sharp so he will survive."

"And what if he doesn't?" Lupin asked. "That boy has barely been there and already he has been subject to physical and emotional abuse, neglect, and mind-control potions. What's next?"

Snape realized that Lupin was right, and for the first horrible moment he realized what would happen if Harry didn't actually to survive until Hogwarts opened. He had always seen this as an endurance race – Harry just had to survive until Hogwarts. He didn't believe anybody would actually hurt the boy enough to threaten that – wouldn't they be afraid of the ministry? Then, with a sinking stomach, he realized something else – what if they were the patsies in this situation and someone else intended grievous harm to Harry and would hang his relatives out to dry in the process. What could he do? Monitoring spells were less than accurate, and he couldn't set Lupin on it 24 hours a day. What other way could he monitor Privet Drive with that damned dampener on?

And then he got another idea, a really desperate idea. It could only be used once, and so could not be used to save Harry from mere physical abuse but only from death itself. But it came when he realized that dampeners were created to exclude one specific creature from being affected in order to not interfere with their household duties – House elves. But there was a few things he needed to do to get that plan in place.

Botz is bringing you some biscuits she just made, Snape wrote on the journal.

Thanks, Harry answered. Hers are always the best. I think I'm locked in my room for the night.

Locked?

I told you that, Harry wrote. They lock me in, if there's anything they want to give me they put it through a cat flap they put in the door.

These people . . .

I'm surviving, Harry wrote. I did the tea like you said, I poured it down the sink when Aunt Petunia wasn't looking and just drank water.

Do you feel better today?

Much better, Harry acknowledged. I feel a lot clearer, and though I had a few sparks of gratefulness I could identify them easily. Just having a clearer day showed me how much the potion was affecting me.

Were you grateful for Vernon not beating you today?

He didn't beat me, Harry wrote, weighing how he was going to write the next part. But, well, today wasn't all great.

You will write everything you are trying to hide from me right now or you will regret it within the half hour, Snape wrote. I will have Lupin put you in the corner until you talk.

All right, all right, I'll tell you, Harry wrote, smiling a little bit at his father's childish threat. It's not a big deal at all.

Well what?

The hard part is that a part of my brain says that it's not that much worse than what you do to punish me, Harry explained. Like, for my body it's not much worse. Today Vernon punished me, but it was a lot more reasonable, more like something you would do. I mean, it was still worse than what you would do, but closer at least than the beating.

How was it worse? Snape asked, trying to remain calm. Are you injured?

No, it wasn't that bad, Harry assured him. I used the salve you gave me and it's completely gone now.

So how was it worse then?

He smacked me on the face, Harry told him. You've never done that, but it was a lot better than what he'd done before. I kept telling myself it wasn't that bad – maybe not any worse than when you smack me on the backside. Except it hurt a lot, my face had a print on it for a while – until I used the salve.

I would never hit you on the face! Snape objected.

I know, Harry answered. But at least it was . . . better. And I didn't deserve it at all! I had done nothing wrong.

Of course you didn't, Snape answered. The abuse you're suffering has very little to do with your actions. I know it's hard that your "punishments" are unjust, they just want to hurt and control you.

But, that wasn't the hard part, Harry continued.

What was the hard part then? Snape wrote, reminding himself to be patient. Harry was just a boy and had trouble sorting these emotions out.

It was just so hateful, Harry admitted. I mean, even when you're angry at me and you lose your temper you don't talk to me like that. I know when you're mad at me and sometimes I'm mad at you too, but you've never called me garbage or a waste of space. He, well, he hit me hard enough to knock me down, but I remember the words more than anything else. I just felt so . . . small.

Surely you don't believe that half-wit's words? Snape wrote.

Not really, I mean, that's what's confusing, Harry told him. I don't believe it, but it still hurts. Can that potion still be working?

It probably will take a few days to get it out of your system, Snape wrote. I made an antidote today just to make sure, I will send it along with Botz when she comes.

I feel really bad seeing her again, Harry confessed. Right as I was leaving our house I was kind of rude to her.

Then all the more reason for you to talk with her, Snape wrote firmly. Though he wanted to comfort Harry, he also knew that him being confident and giving structure would also be of comfort to the lad. He wanted to project to Harry that he thought him capable. And I think it goes without saying that I expect you to apologize. After you do, I'm sure you will find some comfort in her visit.

Yes, sir, Harry replied, and Snape smiled as he almost heard the tone. But I was only rude with her because I was so upset about leaving and not doing all the stuff we normally do in August.

Tell her that, she'll understand, Snape wrote. It's not like she hasn't missed you. She is quite soft-hearted where you're concerned.

Really?

Let's just say she goes between bitterly weeping, making me my favorite biscuits, and then threatening to never make me tea again if I don't get you back. She's overjoyed to be able to bring you biscuits, she's been baking all afternoon.

There's a reason for it beyond protecting your tea, Harry guessed. This feels like a plot.

Keep your speculation to yourself, Snape wrote. And I expect a heartfelt apology before you taste one biscuit! Am I clear?

Crystal clear, sir. Apologies before sweets.

That was almost cheeky.

Me? Cheeky? Surely not, sir.

Hmph.

AN: I tried hard to show some of the complications of fear and grief, and how Snape is trying to keep his head in the midst of that. And Snape's grief isn't absolute – there is still so much hope that Harry will be returned, that he can fix things, but he still has to endure the hardships now. That's one of the main feelings I'm trying to capture in this story, the helplessness and grief that Snape's experiencing, and how he's able to gather the strength to press on and try to do whatever he can to help Harry however he can. I'm not sure if you've ever been in that place in your own life, but that place is a very hard place to be. Let me know what you think.