As Snape felt Harry stirring from his sleep, he moved away, not wanting the
boy to see his concern.
He's a Gryffindor, Severus. Get a grip. This is Minerva's responsibility.
{Ah,} said the nasty other voice in his head, {But look what a good job she, Dumbledore and Sirius did.}
You don't know they messed up!
{Ah, so that would be why he was lying alone in a pool of blood when I found him. . .}
Snape shook his head abruptly and turned to Harry.
"How are you feeling?"
"Fine, thank you, sir."
Snape rolled his eyes obviously and repeated,
"How are you feeling?"
"Fine, thank. . ."
"No Mr Potter, I would like a truthful answer."
Harry groaned slightly and said in a very quiet voice,
"I feel like I'm going to die. And I'll be very disappointed if I don't."
"What happened? Again, a truthful answer, Mr Potter, or I may just send you back to your tower."
The second the words were out of his mouth he regretted them, and wished deeply he had a time-turner. Harry flinched, and slid over the bed so he was as far away from Snape as possible.
Snape waited for a moment, and then sighed. Merlin, this would be agony. Could he do it? Severus Snape, potions master, had done many things in his lifetime. He himself had once battled a basilisk, had brewed and tasted potions that could easily have killed him; he had been a Death Eater, and betrayed Voldemort.
There wasn't much Snape was scared of now. He seemed to remember someone quoting "To the well trained mind, death is the next great adventure" to him, but he couldn't remember who. But basically, this was something that would hurt Snape's pride more than he would tolerate. Which is why he had never done it before.
"I'm sorry, Harry."
************************
Oh great, no fanfares, no applause or semi-naked girls kissing you. What a waste of your first apology, Sev!
{I'm sure Harry appreciated it deep down. . .}
The aforementioned boy was curled into a foetal position on the bed. Snape sighed and approached carefully.
"Mr Potter, I need to redress your wounds. For that I will need you to not be curled up like a hedgehog."
Harry slowly relaxed his shoulders and allowed Snape access to the welts and gashes on his back.
"Who did this to you?"
"Nobody. I was in a street fight."
Snape was silent for a moment as he finished magically cleaning the wounds. Then he sat on the bed so that Harry was looking at him, and said as gently as he could,
"You have to tell someone, Harry. If you'll just admit it, any action can be taken. Those muggles could be prosecuted under either Wizarding or Muggle law. Or you can do nothing, but you are not going back there for another summer!"
Harry looked at him blankly, and simply said,
"Why?"
Snape rubbed the bridge of his nose, which wasn't actually that big, and regarded Harry through beady black eyes.
"Believe it or not, I do not revel in death and despair. You have come very close to the former, and very deeply into the latter, recently. I know the normal procedure would be to tell your Head of House, but Minerva has very little idea of the underlying personalities of her students. There are some far nicer Slytherins than Gryffindors, she is just too blinded by House Points to see it, and if you ever repeat a word of this I will string you up by your thumbs in the Dungeons for a good 3 weeks."
The whole monologue was delivered in the same, even, silky smooth tone. Harry swallowed back a smile, the first for a long time, and nodded.
"Now, please, tell me who did this to you."
Harry gulped. It was so painful to remember, to relive the beatings and the verbal abuse.
"I. . .can't. . ."
"Oh come on, how hard can it be?"
"I. . ."
Harry's voice cracked and he turned away. Snape frowned and looked at Harry closely. His eyes were jammed shut, and he was obviously close to having a panic attack. Hating himself for it, Snape took out his wand and murmered 'Claris'. Harry's mumbling turned into coherent words, which Snape wished he'd never heard.
"No. . .please, uncle Vernon. . .no. . .it hurts, so much, it hurts, make it stop, please someone, anyone, help me!"
The boy was curled up into a foetal position, hands fumbling with his trousers, trying in vain to keep them on in his mind, and Snape suddenly understood.
"Holy Shit. . ."
**********************
They raped him. They beat him and raped him.
{. . .}
Snape rubbed his head. He had put a sleeping charm on Harry but had no idea what to do.
Little did he know, that someone else was plotting.
*********************************
(In a random evil, dark and deserted place in the middle of nowhere)
Voldemort watched as his faithful Death Eaters gathered around in the shadows, like silent angels of death. Except for Crabbe, who apparated on top of Goyle. The two fell to the ground in a flurry of robes, cursing each other, as the other Death Eaters laughed.
Voldemort hissed and the commotion stopped immediately.
"I have received very interesting news. The Potter boy can now be lured from Hogwarts. He will be without protection."
"Master. . .we beg to know. . ."
Voldemort smiled. It was not a pretty sight.
"His relatives have abused him to the point of death. He is bitter and alone. The Gryffindors have deserted him. Dumbledore cannot help him. He has tried to kill himself. He is ripe, my dear followers, for the picking."
"But, my Lord, how did you find this out?"
Again, the Serpentine Wizard smiled thinly.
"A. . .contact. . .inside Hogwarts has informed me."
He's a Gryffindor, Severus. Get a grip. This is Minerva's responsibility.
{Ah,} said the nasty other voice in his head, {But look what a good job she, Dumbledore and Sirius did.}
You don't know they messed up!
{Ah, so that would be why he was lying alone in a pool of blood when I found him. . .}
Snape shook his head abruptly and turned to Harry.
"How are you feeling?"
"Fine, thank you, sir."
Snape rolled his eyes obviously and repeated,
"How are you feeling?"
"Fine, thank. . ."
"No Mr Potter, I would like a truthful answer."
Harry groaned slightly and said in a very quiet voice,
"I feel like I'm going to die. And I'll be very disappointed if I don't."
"What happened? Again, a truthful answer, Mr Potter, or I may just send you back to your tower."
The second the words were out of his mouth he regretted them, and wished deeply he had a time-turner. Harry flinched, and slid over the bed so he was as far away from Snape as possible.
Snape waited for a moment, and then sighed. Merlin, this would be agony. Could he do it? Severus Snape, potions master, had done many things in his lifetime. He himself had once battled a basilisk, had brewed and tasted potions that could easily have killed him; he had been a Death Eater, and betrayed Voldemort.
There wasn't much Snape was scared of now. He seemed to remember someone quoting "To the well trained mind, death is the next great adventure" to him, but he couldn't remember who. But basically, this was something that would hurt Snape's pride more than he would tolerate. Which is why he had never done it before.
"I'm sorry, Harry."
************************
Oh great, no fanfares, no applause or semi-naked girls kissing you. What a waste of your first apology, Sev!
{I'm sure Harry appreciated it deep down. . .}
The aforementioned boy was curled into a foetal position on the bed. Snape sighed and approached carefully.
"Mr Potter, I need to redress your wounds. For that I will need you to not be curled up like a hedgehog."
Harry slowly relaxed his shoulders and allowed Snape access to the welts and gashes on his back.
"Who did this to you?"
"Nobody. I was in a street fight."
Snape was silent for a moment as he finished magically cleaning the wounds. Then he sat on the bed so that Harry was looking at him, and said as gently as he could,
"You have to tell someone, Harry. If you'll just admit it, any action can be taken. Those muggles could be prosecuted under either Wizarding or Muggle law. Or you can do nothing, but you are not going back there for another summer!"
Harry looked at him blankly, and simply said,
"Why?"
Snape rubbed the bridge of his nose, which wasn't actually that big, and regarded Harry through beady black eyes.
"Believe it or not, I do not revel in death and despair. You have come very close to the former, and very deeply into the latter, recently. I know the normal procedure would be to tell your Head of House, but Minerva has very little idea of the underlying personalities of her students. There are some far nicer Slytherins than Gryffindors, she is just too blinded by House Points to see it, and if you ever repeat a word of this I will string you up by your thumbs in the Dungeons for a good 3 weeks."
The whole monologue was delivered in the same, even, silky smooth tone. Harry swallowed back a smile, the first for a long time, and nodded.
"Now, please, tell me who did this to you."
Harry gulped. It was so painful to remember, to relive the beatings and the verbal abuse.
"I. . .can't. . ."
"Oh come on, how hard can it be?"
"I. . ."
Harry's voice cracked and he turned away. Snape frowned and looked at Harry closely. His eyes were jammed shut, and he was obviously close to having a panic attack. Hating himself for it, Snape took out his wand and murmered 'Claris'. Harry's mumbling turned into coherent words, which Snape wished he'd never heard.
"No. . .please, uncle Vernon. . .no. . .it hurts, so much, it hurts, make it stop, please someone, anyone, help me!"
The boy was curled up into a foetal position, hands fumbling with his trousers, trying in vain to keep them on in his mind, and Snape suddenly understood.
"Holy Shit. . ."
**********************
They raped him. They beat him and raped him.
{. . .}
Snape rubbed his head. He had put a sleeping charm on Harry but had no idea what to do.
Little did he know, that someone else was plotting.
*********************************
(In a random evil, dark and deserted place in the middle of nowhere)
Voldemort watched as his faithful Death Eaters gathered around in the shadows, like silent angels of death. Except for Crabbe, who apparated on top of Goyle. The two fell to the ground in a flurry of robes, cursing each other, as the other Death Eaters laughed.
Voldemort hissed and the commotion stopped immediately.
"I have received very interesting news. The Potter boy can now be lured from Hogwarts. He will be without protection."
"Master. . .we beg to know. . ."
Voldemort smiled. It was not a pretty sight.
"His relatives have abused him to the point of death. He is bitter and alone. The Gryffindors have deserted him. Dumbledore cannot help him. He has tried to kill himself. He is ripe, my dear followers, for the picking."
"But, my Lord, how did you find this out?"
Again, the Serpentine Wizard smiled thinly.
"A. . .contact. . .inside Hogwarts has informed me."