Harry's Bond with Snape!
(Snape doesn't come in till later chapters background knowledge first)
Harry winced in pain as he clambered off the Bedroom floor; he threw himself onto his bed. He pulled up his blood stained t-shirt and examined his new wound. He prodded the bruise, and gently cleaned the gash in his side. An enormous wave of agony swept over him, as he leant back on his pillow and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
NO NO NO, NOT CEDRIC, PLEASE HE'S INNOCENT; I BROUGHT HIM HERE LET HIM GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! HUH THIS IS YOUR DOING HARRY! YOU'RE TO BLAME, NOT VOLDEMORT, YOU, HARRY LOOKED AROUND NERVOUSLY AND REALSIED THAT IT WAS HERMIONE AND RONS LEERING FACES THAT WERE TORMENTING HIM, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Harry woke up in a cold sweat his entire body was drenched; he had been screaming in his sleep. He was screaming loud enough to wake Vernon Dursley, his very unforgiving Uncle. Uncle Vernon came thundering down the hallway, Harry's bedroom door crashed open and Uncle Vernon's hulky frame blocked the hall light. Harry braced himself, as each excruciating blow smashed haphazardly into his ribs. Uncle Vernon's vice like grip on Harry's arm throbbed as Harry cowered into the shadows of his covers. After an eternity of torture; which was actually only 30 minutes Uncle Vernon left Harry to contemplate his suffering. Harry sat timidly nursing his new bruises forming over the unhealed injuries of torment and abuse. Sure that his ribs were broken Harry heaved himself of the bed and stumbled over to the mirror inside his worn cupboard. He examined his swollen side and prodded it impatiently. He pulled the doors shut quietly and returned to his bed, watching cautiously out of his window. He sat motionless; enjoying the cool breeze that was caressing every inch of his aching, tear stained face.
* * *
Harry's pain soon drifted lazily out of the window, whilst he pondered the exciting departure, which was to be more exciting than every new school year at Hogwarts. Last term was his fifth year and Sirius' name had now been cleared for 12 twelve long tiresome months. It was only in his third year at Hogwarts had Harry found out about his only living relative of which he knew. That same year Harry had been taught by a werewolf, fallen off a broomstick, and nearly kissed by a Dementor. As exciting as it was Harry was glad it was over. The next year was just as fun as the last; only Harry had blocked most of it from his memory, which was only to be expected. Ever since then he had been suffering from recurring nightmares about Cedric Diggory, he did not wish to share these matters, as he felt he didn't have anyone he could talk to. And at this very moment he needed some one, some one to tell it is going to be alright, some one to speak soothing words in his ear, some one he could talk to and go top for support. He had Sirius, but what would he think if Harry wrote to him about pathetic nightmares, he'd think he was weak and childish. After the long year had passed Harry had received a letter from Sirius, telling Harry that he could now live with him. He couldn't wait; the moment he had found out he had whooped and punched the air in anticipation. He hadn't hesitated in informing the Dursleys of his forth-coming departure and they too were ecstatic. Harry hadn't received any chores that day, much to Dudley's disapproval.
Harry's head and heart was soaring so high that he hadn't noticed the great tawny owl that was swooping down on him. Harry was soon brought clumsily back to earth with a great thump. The tawny owl had collided straight with Harry's sore head, and had knocked them both to the floor with a muffled, but confused thump. Harry clambered off the floor as a new batch of pain claimed him. Breathing heavily Harry pulled himself upright, his glasses askew. He drew in a heavy breath, clutching his side he picked the limp form off the floor and separated the letter from its messenger. From Sirius…
Harry looked anxiously at the letter. Crazy thoughts were rushing around his mind; What if Sirius doesn't want me any more? What if he's already bored of me badgering him? What ifs were all Harry could focus on? Hedwig swooped through the already open window and brushed past Harry's clammy cheek. Harry soon averted his attention back to the letter in his hand he sighed deeply and tore it open he took out the piece of parchment and opened it hesitantly. He prepared himself for whatever bad news Sirius had and glanced at the first few lines;
Harry,
It's Sirius here, I'm sorry, but I can't pick you up, when we arranged! Don't worry nothing awful has happened just thought I'd write and tell you, because I didn't know how those muggles would take the news on the same day!
Harry's heart was in his throat, he groaned inwardly and threw himself back onto his pillow. Flinching in pain he grabbed at his somewhat painful side and faced towards his wall, he cried silently into his covers and let all emotion flow out of his leaking eyes. It took him a while to regain his self control and rolled onto his back, a new stirring of anxiety grew inside of him, as he clutched the letter and pulled it from his already aching and bruised chest. And he read on, might as well he thought. It would be better if I could know his reason. Shaking himself gently he looked back at the letter. And soon his spirits were floating so high that not even his domineering uncle could beat them out of him.
Now that everything has been sorted, I see no need for you to wait any longer; I can't bear the thought of you having to stay longer than necessary with those god-forsaken muggles. So I've cleared it with Dumbledore and you can stay from tomorrow in your new home! Our home! Are you excited I can't wait for you to see your new room! It's great although I had a little help from a few friends, but I won't tell you whom as it's a surprise! And we have something special planned for your birthday. I have to go this was only going to be a short note. Ah well.
Love Sirius!!!
P.s. Be ready by 8:00am
Harry was over the moon. Tomorrow he would be out of perfect Privet Drive forever. His life was definitely getting better. What else could go wrong? Nothing. So he thought until he fell off his bed. He had been sitting on the edge in anticipation whilst reading the letter and hadn't realised, but he soon did when the cold, clammy, agonising floor made contact with his bottom. THUD. Ah NO! Harry groaned as uncle Vernon's explosive growls reverberated off the hallway walls and bounced down the corridor to meet Harry's ears. Twice in one night harry was going to feel this one tomorrow. But at least it would be the last one. Swiftly brushing the letter under the bed, he clambered into the covers and began to snore lightly, apprehensively awaiting the severity of Uncle Vernon's beating that was to follow shortly.
* * *
Sure enough Vernon Dursleys unwieldy mass was plundering down the dimly lit hallway, towards Harry's room. Harry. The boy that had turned his family's life upside down. He had left them to live in fear of his abnormality reaching breaking point. By treating Harry like an insignificant stranger to their home, he (Vernon Dursley) would keep harry from attaining his magical peak. Of which would be so advanced the Dursleys would become non existent. Although Harry wasn't in the least bit dangerous or malicious, nor did he have any intent of killing this didn't deter Vernon Dursley. Some good came of this night however Vernon would be able to relieve all hatred of the boy tonight, and then wouldn't have to worry about him in the slightest. He would be out of their hair forever, even if forever weren't long enough, it would do.
He crashed into Harry's slightly deranged bedroom; it was evidently smaller than the other rooms in the house. He thundered over to the sleeping Harry and shook him violently.
"Thought you'd get away with banging about like that did you boy"
Came Uncle Vernon's menacing voice. Harry lay as still as a fox, hoping against all hope that he wouldn't be to sore tomorrow.
"Don't you ignore me BOY! BOY! Get up now, you ignorant brat!" After what seemed like an eternity of waiting Uncle Vernon's first heavy hand collided with Harry's stomach, making him wretch in pain. Uncle Vernon threw him effortlessly around the poky bedroom; of which he had only obtained in his second year after the Dursleys received many letters addressed to harry, and they seemed to know; that he lived in a cupboard, this unhinged Vernon Dursley. So he decided to give Harry Dudley's old, spare room; much to Dudley's dismay, but Harry loved it. After many exhausting collisions with three walls, a cage and his cupboard, he felt one last kick and fell. He fell deeper into the murky depths of unconsciousness aware only of the rushing wind in his ears and the muffled thud of where he landed in oblivion.
He awoke much later. Harry laid on the icy cold floorboards, and looked warily around the hostile bedroom, that was seemingly normal, well as normal as could be expected, hence Harry's abnormality as the Dursleys referred to it. He lay motionless on the floor. He feared that if he moved his whole body would fall apart. His ribs ached more than ever, and every muscle in his ethereal frame seemed to be severed. His head swirled and the room swam. He forced himself to think of his soon to be departure, and sat up with difficulty. Glancing around at the small dented alarm clock on his bedside cabinet he trundled over to his bed and sat on the edge dejectedly. 8:30 half an hour late, Harry fought back the tears threatening to leak away from his sore red eyes. With a heavy heart he checked that all his possessions were ready and gave one last hopeful glimpse out at Privet Drive. He saw only Mrs Figg who was lingering beside the hedge of next doors garden. Becoming interested Harry looked more intently at Mrs Figg, her face was etched with worry and concern, and she was talking to a shadow. A shadow? Between the garage door and the house. Harry edged closer to the window, careful not to make a sound. He knew that there was something wrong with Mrs Figg mentally, she always seemed to be strange. She was always talking to her cats. Harry always remembered a small ginger one that had funny markings around its eyes, rather like square glasses. Then it hit Harry. McGonagall. What did she always call her, Min…? Miner…. Minerva that was it. Minerva McGonagall. Mrs Figg a witch? What a ludicrous thought, but when Harry looked closer something seemed to be shifting shapes in the shadow, it looked like a, a, a dog. SIRIUS. At this the big black shaggy dog looked up towards the window and winked at Harry. He immediately jumped off his bed, and flew down the stairs towards the front door. Forgetting his pain, he ran towards his godfather. The dog bounded towards Harry and knocked him to the floor as he started to lick every inch of face friendly. Harry laughed and guided the dog and Mrs. Figg back to the house. The pain he had escaped when running towards Sirius soon caught up with him. He struggled to keep himself from crying in absolute agony, as they stumbled into the house, Sirius immediately returned to his usual form, and held Harry up anxiously. At the sight of the stranger holding their abnormal nephew and following their strange neighbour, aunt petunia let out a shrill scream, uncle Vernon ran into the hallway to see what all the commotion was about. He then let out a thunderous roar ordering the stranger out of his house.
"…And if you really want the BOY have him…" Sirius glared at Vernon and Petunia and lunged forward, Arabella watched amusedly but put a restraining hand on Sirius' forearm and nodded calmly towards the pale limp boy.
"Now Petunia, Vernon calm down he has only come to collect the boy. What is the harm in that?" she stated in a somewhat superior voice.
"they can get OUT OF MY HOUSE NOW! You FREAKS!"
Harry stood feebly on his own and gestured towards the stairs and made up them to collect his belongings. Sirius immediately helped the staggering child up the stairs and into his tiny room.
"Harry what have they done to you? I shall be informing Dumbledore the moment you are safely tucked in bed!" Sirius' concern for Harry made him feel slightly better. He now had that some–one to care for him, he had a father figure; and that was all he wanted.