Author's Notes: I just noticed that I've been starting the recent three chapters with the words "I woke up…" *grins*…I assure you that I did not do it on purpose…

Right…I know I've been an utter idiot…not having updated this for goodness knows how long. Blame it on my maths teacher…the horrible git gave us homework every single day. Add all the tests we've been having…*shrugs*…it's a miracle that I've yet to have a nervous breakdown.

This chapter was a lot longer than I had expected it to be…well, hopefully, this will be enough to satisfy you for a while…I have no idea when I'll next update…enjoy it while you can…

Just a note to some…there will be some mentions of abuse in this chapter…it's not a lot, just a slight PG-13 I guess, so consider yourselves warned. Major angst coming up too…

A Fallen Angel

By chibi_tenshi

I woke up from a surprisingly peaceful slumber and started when I saw that I was not in my room. I stared around at the whitewashed walls, the sparkling white bed sheets, and the neat array of various vials and bottles in a cupboard beside my bed. The events from the previous night (or was it even last night? How long have I been out of it?) came rushing back to me…the rescue…Snape…

I felt, rather than saw, something shift on my left. Turning, I found someone resting his head on my bed…asleep. Finding my glasses at the bedside table, I put it on and started studying the figure before me. It was Professor Snape…I'd recognize his hair anywhere, so fine that it looked almost greasy. It was totally black, as in soot-colored black. I've never seen hair this color of midnight before. Mine only looks black…it actually has a dark, reddish tint to it if you looked carefully enough.

I had been observing him for ages now, since the Yule Ball last year actually. It was actually an accident…one might call it a work by the fates actually…

/Flashback/

I left the Ball as soon as I could because it was getting rather boring. After finally ditching Ron in the Gryffindor common room, I had grabbed my invisibility cloak and went up to my favorite thinking spot up in the Astronomy Tower. I had been frequenting the area ever since Cho declined my invitation for the Ball. (Malfoy had somehow caught on about it and was teasing me everytime he passed me in the hallways, and I needed a refuge of sorts, so I somehow, unwitting, wandered up the Tower and found a really cozy room tucked right at the top behind the viewing room…) Anyway, imagine my surprise when I found someone already sitting on my comfy couch by the window. I know this is childish and unreasonable of me, but I'd been hanging out here for almost a month, alone, and someone came and claimed my seat!

I was about to storm up and repossess my couch when the figure shifted and her (his?) hair caught a bit of the moonlight peeking out from behind a cloud, giving it a luminous quality, like shiny silk, with the color of the darkest night, a delightful contrast to what I could see of her fair, supple-looking skin.

As the cloud moved away, the light from the full moon illuminated the room. I could well see the figure now, little broad at the shoulders, arms resting on either sides of the couch, long legs stretched out in front of him. It's…he's a male… lean, yet radiating a sense of power. It was as if there was a halo surrounding him, making him look almost…ethereal.

I felt my breath caught for some weird reason, and struggled to regain some sort of control, but my heart couldn't help but quicken its pace as the figure slowly turned around to face me, as if he had heard my gasp.

He turned…and I came face to face with Professor Snape…of all people! The Bane-Of-Gryffindor, the Enemy-Of-Sirius-Black, the Greasy Git, the one that hated me ever since he first set his eyes on me, the one that saved me from Quirrel's stupid jinx in First Year…did I miss anything? Oh yeah, the same man that was making me lose my control just mere seconds ago (it's a near impossible feat really, with my life and all)…Ron would faint…

Still, as I studied him more closely, he looked almost sad…melancholy would be a better word…like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, like he was bearing an immense burden that was slowly crushing him, suffocating him, as the days go by. Up here alone, with all his masks dropped, he looked almost…human…a very cute one at that…

'OH MY GOD! Did I just think that?' I looked around for hospital attendants from St. Mungo's to come swooping down at me…and accidentally crashed into the small stool right behind me.

At the sudden noise, he leapt up from the seat, masks slipping back in place as he scanned the area while growling a low "Who's there?"

I hurriedly backed out of the room, ignoring how my heart had skipped a beat at his deliciously husky tenor, and fled back to Gryffindor Tower.

/End Flashback/

I had been thinking about him ever since, observing him when he was not looking, seeing him in a whole new light…(A/N Let's just say that he conveniently forgot that he was checking out the professor…De'Nile isn't just a river in Egypt after all…) he was like me really, living a life that revolved around Voldemort's existence, a life which had been planned out ever since we were mere children, a life whereby we had to live up to the expectations of the people around us – Voldemort and the Death Eaters for his case, and the rest of the Wizarding world for mine…

We were bound to our duty, his as a spy, and mine as the supposed savior of the world. There was no escape, no way out, because that was what people had expected from us. I was afraid to say 'no', afraid to see the disappointment, the despair on everyone's faces should I refuse to accept this duty entrusted to me ever since I was one.

As for him, was it his way of repenting for all the crimes that he had committed for allying with Voldemort as one of the Death Eaters? Did he even became a Death Eater willingly, or did Voldemort coerce him into it? Could it be that he had been working for Dumbledore all along, and only joined Voldemort because they needed a spy in the ranks?

Yes, we really are similar, doing our best to help a world that turns their back on us the moment we did something wrong. And despite better judgment, I felt myself desiring to know more about this intriguing man beside me, about his experiences, his thoughts, his feelings about this unfair, cruel world that we reside in…I wanted to know the real him, the one behind the sneers and scowls, the one behind the intricate façade that he had put up…

Gradually, once I put all my prejudices aside, I began to understand his snappiness in class…I began to understand why he treated the Slytherins differently from the way he handled the Gryffindors…I began to understand why he treated me the way he did and yet still saved my life about a million times throughout my career at Hogwarts so far…

And when I did, I couldn't help but admire, and to respect him…he had guarded the school and protected the students without complaint…he had been keeping the students in place, preparing them for the harsh realities of the world while the other teacher continued to pamper them…he had been the only available anchor for Slytherins, helping them and standing up for them whenever he could when others treated them as outcasts and Voldemort-wannabes…he did all these and more, but all he got in return was people shunning him, badmouthing him behind his back, and accusing looks. He even had to endure Azkaban once, while real crooks like Lucius Malfoy and Avery McNair got away scout-free…

As I had said, he fascinated me. Even now, as he laid beside me asleep, he looked so troubled…worried about something…and I was unable to resist the temptation, raising my hand to his face to smooth out the frown, before moving on to run my fingers through his hair. It was soft…soft as silk, as the smoothest velvet. As he stirred, I hurriedly snatched back my hands. He slowly looked up and blinked…

***

Snape stirred from his sleep when he felt something sift through his hair. Lifting his head up slowly, he opened his eyes…and blinked when the bright sunlight attacked them.

He saw Harry staring intently at him behind those impossibly long lashes and sat up straight, suddenly feeling very much awake.

He reached for the vials on the table behind him and began measuring out the liquids carefully before mixing them in a plain, sterile goblet. He then brought Harry into a sitting position, pressed the goblet to his mouth and gently coaxed the mixture down his throat, which wasn't working very well because of the weeklong starvation.

Harry was too busy gaping at the unexpected kindness his Professor was showing that he didn't notice the cooling sensation as the liquid slid down his gullet and relaxed the muscles. It was only when Snape laid him back on the bed and exited the room when the fact finally sank in…he actually looked worried about him…like he cared…and no one had ever seemed to truly care about him…until now…

Harry allowed himself a small smile at this before it turned into a frown again. Best not to get his hopes up…he was still hurting from the last time this happened…

Then, Madam Pomfrey entered the room, followed by a rather grumpy looking Snape. He stood with his back against the wall, scowling as Pomfrey fussed over Harry like a mother hen would her chicks, asking him all sorts of questions and subjecting him to different healing potions and spells.

It was in the midst of this all when Dumbledore entered, a slight twinkle returning to his eyes when he saw Harry well again. Once Pomfrey was done with whatever routine checks she had to make, she stepped aside to allow the Headmaster access to the boy.

Harry sighed in resignation at the sight of the Headmaster, knowing from that look that he was in for a lot of awkward questionings.

"Harry," Dumbledore began. "I know it would be hard for you, but we need to know what happened to you over the past week…"

"Professor, does Sirius know?" Harry cut in, hoping to stall for time by bringing up another topic.

"I've sent an owl out to look for him. But he's somewhere in Russia on a mission and it might take days, weeks even for the letter to reach him, considering Russia's landmass. Remus is with him, so they would probably arrive together sometime later. I have not yet told him about your…injuries…I was rather afraid that he might overreact and hex the Dursleys into next week before Avada Kedavra-ing them on the spot, which won't do at all since it would only earn him a further sentence in Azkaban…" Dumbledore sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before continuing.

"Harry, we need to know who did this to you so we could hand out suitable punishments to the culprits. Child abuse is a very serious offense in the Wizarding World, especially since the Wizarding population has been dwindling for quite some time…"

"I got knocked down by a car when I was out shopping…" Harry muttered.

"I hardly think a car accident would give you whip lashes on your back Mr. Potter. It would be best for your own interests if you could just tell us the truth," Snape drawled out from where he was standing, ignoring Harry's glare.

"How did you know to come and find me?" Harry asked, changing the subject yet again.

Dumbledore answered this time, after quieting Snape with a Look. "We had news about Voldemort attacking Privet Drive because he somehow found out about your residence there." Seeing Harry's troubled look, he reassured him. "We managed to evacuate all the muggles living there and got some Aurors placed there in time to handle the attack. No one was killed, thankfully, and we managed to convince the Minister that Voldemort has, indeed, returned after interrogating the Death Eaters we had captured under the Vertiserum…"

"Harry, we really need you to tell us if the Dursleys did this to you…we need evidence to take you out of their custody and give them a proper trial. I know it would be hard to talk about it, but we need to know…when did this start? Why didn't you tell anyone about it? You have to trust us Harry…you have to trust us for us to be able to protect you properly…"

"I…I can't…please…" Harry choked out as he forced down his tears. He would not cry…he had sworn never to cry again just two days into his stay with the Dursley…he was not weak damn it!

"Harry…please…we want to help. But we can't if you don't cooperate with us…tell us…" Dumbledore said gently, cradling Harry's hand in an attempt to soothe his frazzled nerves. "Let it out Harry…it's not healthy to bottle everything inside under lock and key…let it all out…cry if you want to…everyone needs release once in a while, when things get too rough. It's not weak to show your tears. Let it all out Harry…tell us…we are here to help…trust us…"

Under Dumbledore's calming tone, Harry couldn't help but bury his face in the pillow and sob. He was unaware of the hand rubbing his head comfortingly as he drowned in the torrents of emotion he had kept hidden for so long. Dumbledore brought him up into his arms, petting his back when Harry leaned in and wept on his shoulders.

When Harry's sobs finally subsided, he smiled and said, "Now, don't you feel much better?"

And he did too. It was as if a huge, suffocating weight on his chest had been removed, leaving his heart much lighter than before. He wiped away his tears with his sleeves, then scrambling back to his bed in embarrassment when he found himself sitting on the Headmaster's lap.

"Now Harry, would you mind telling us what had happened to you? Starting from the beginning maybe? From whatever event that led up to this?" Dumbledore said encouragingly.

Harry hesitated a little, still unwilling to dive into those unpleasant memories that he would prefer to forget. However, after one look in Dumbledore's eyes, - he couldn't help it, really - he found himself spilling out everything…

"I've been a sort of punching bag for them ever since I could remember…the little freak living in the cupboard-under-the-stairs…the good-for-nothing little twerp that deserves nothing but a thorough beating every once in a while to 'put him in his place'…Dudley loved 'playing' with me…" All these was said in a monotonous, detached tone.

"And when I was able to walk properly without falling over, Aunt Petunia made me learn how the sweep the floor…I was 3, I think, and they even bought a smaller broomstick for me so I have no excuses about not being able to lift it up…I learnt how to mop the floor too, and weed the garden. I was forced to start cooking for the family at 5…once I was tall enough to reach the saucepan on a stool. I remembered getting burnt so often (you can't dodge the oil when you are on a stool) that I started to become immune to the pain…Aunt Petunia wasn't happy about them…they drew too much attention and she had to spend time rubbing cream on the burns to stop people from asking questions. I first went out grocery shopping at 6, I think. I met with a pickpocket once…Uncle Vernon was so mad at me that he locked me in my cupboard without food for two weeks. They had to let me out at Christmas though…needed help with the decorations and stuff." Harry couldn't help but grin sardonically when he saw the Professors' shocked expressions.

"The worst year by far was when I was in second grade…Uncle Vernon's company was doing badly…I think it was because of some new rival company…I remember coming home for the summer holidays…Uncle just pulled me into the house and started yelling at me and beating me up…he just threw me back into my cupboard when he got tired. That continued on for a while…whatever I did was wrong, and I got punished for it…he even punched me once because I 'breathed too loudly'…"

Harry paused here, inhaling deeply and continued when he saw the reassuring glint in the Headmaster's eye.

"He began to drink…got drunk every single night before he got home…and then, one evening, when Aunt Petunia brought Dudley out to the sweet shop at the market just a little way down the drive, he pulled me out of the cupboard…there was this horrible grin on his face…" at this, Harry's breath started to quicken and he looked down on his bedsheets, not wanting to meet his Professors' eyes…

"'Happy Birthday, Harry'…that was all he said…'Happy Birthday'…then he ripped off my clothes and started coming down on me…" He broke off, struggling to control his quivers before he resumed his talking, still refusing to look up.

"I didn't know what he was doing then…all I knew was that it hurt…it hurt so much, like I was burning up on the inside as he came down again and again." Here, he gave a mirthless laugh. "I ran all the way to the toilet after Madam Pomfrey's sex talk in the third year…all those times, he was using me as his own personal whore, and I didn't even realize that…"

"He stopped drinking though…after a year or so…after that other drill company moved over to the States. The rapes more or less stopped too…he only came on occasions when he was really furious about something or other. Aunt Petunia found out after a while…said I seduced her husband and hit me with a frying pan…she got a lot meaner afterwards." All this was delivered in a bitter voice.

"Then this summer, something happened again I guess…probably Uncle's drill company. So, basically, they hit, starved and raped me for a week until Professor Snape came in…and you know the rest…" he trailed off, staring at his hands for a while before he gathered up enough courage to raise his head…and found Snape staring at him in horror while Dumbledore was looking at him with something akin to pity, and not without a little sadness and regret. He looked away again…surprise, shock, and even anger…he could deal with all these…just not pity…he hated it when someone pitied him…it made him feel worthless…useless…like he couldn't protect himself, not that he could. After all, he let the Dursleys have their way with him didn't he?

He hated himself…he hated himself for his disability to defend himself against the Dursleys…he hated himself for not dying with his parents that one Halloween night…he hated himself for failing to save Cedric in time…he hated himself for allowing the Dark Lord to come into being once more…he hated himself for being unable to help in all those visions he had on the Death Eaters' attacks…and most of all, he hated himself for living, for continuing his pathetic existence while others fall one by one around him…he hated himself…

***

Snape stared in horror at the boy in front of him (though he was quick to cover it with his usual stony mask) as he listed out this childhood events as if they were merely everyday conversation topics exchanged during mealtimes. He didn't know what to think about the Potter child anymore…the sight of him beaten, tattered and broken in his own home had messed his whole perception, and Severus Snape detested being told that he was wrong.

He regretted being so mean to the boy the past few years…he had thought that he had been pampered at home, that he was simply a spoilt brat…he was afraid that all the attention from the Wizarding public would blow up his already inflated ego. He had never expected it to turn out like this…it seemed like such a good reason then, to taunt the boy because he was jealous of what he thought was a glamorous childhood that the boy led…but he was wrong…so very wrong…and he hated being shown that he was wrong…

***

He felt the guilt clench at his heart as he heard the boy narrate his terrible childhood…every word stabbed at him like a pointed spear, and he was unable to stop the guilt and regret from showing.

It had been said that Albus Dumbledore was not one to be easily surprised, for he was wise beyond his years and had accumulated plenty of experience from his long, hard life. But he had never saw this coming, never realized that he had condemned someone into a life of abuse and torture when he made his decision to leave Harry Potter in the hands of his relatives that fateful night, near 14 years ago…

Looking at the trembling boy in front of him, he could practically feel the waves for self-loathing and despair radiating from the frail figure. He found that, for the first time in more than 90 years, he was uncertain about what to do…the boy had been through so much, and asked for so little…

Sighing, he reached over to raise Harry's head to face him.

"Harry…Harry, look at me…I'm sorry that I put you in the care of the Dursleys, I'm sorry that we failed to protect you from all those…but, why didn't you tell anyone about this? Why didn't you tell us about this earlier? When you first came to Hogwarts? We would have helped you then, brought you away from them…"

Harry struggled to move away from his grip, at Dumbledore's determined gaze, he slumped back, defeated…

"I tried to…so many times, when I was younger…but who would believe me? It was my word against theirs…people thought that I was lying, just another child trying to gain some attention…so I gave up…it seemed so pointless…"

"But you could have told us, Harry…we would have believed you…"

"When I was 6, I told my gym teacher. She told me to trust her…she told me that she'll help…she told me that she'll never let the Dursleys harm me ever again…and I believed her. I told her everything, showed her all my marks, and cried on her shoulders. I stupidly believed her…and she turned her back on me and told the Dursleys about what I had said. I trusted her and she betrayed me the very instant she could. I didn't go back to school for 3 weeks after that…I couldn't…the Dursleys were furious…it was ages before I could lie down properly without fainting from the pain. They told the school that I had chicken pox, and that I was too contagious. I never told anyone after that…"

"Oh Harry…but you could have trusted us…you know you can…"

"Do I? The world had turned it's back against me for more times than I could count…after I lost 50 points for Gryffindor in the first year, after the rumors about me being the Heir of Slytherin in the second year, after the Triwizard incident in the Fourth year…I don't know who to trust anymore…I just don't…" Harry shook his head despairingly.

"Harry…there are still people out there who care…I care…so does Sirius, and Remus…there is your friend Hermione, and the Weasleys…the Professors care too, even Professor Snape…"

"I suppose…" said Harry, though the dubious tone was obvious…

Dumbledore sighed again, saying, "Rest now, Harry…you must be tired out…"

And indeed he was. He fell asleep again as soon as his head touched the pillow, not noticing Dumbledore's retreat, nor did he notice Snape settling down back in The Chair and watching him with an indefinable expression on his features…

***

TBC

So…how was it? It seemed like a good place to end…

I've decided not to do a 'love at first sight' scene…it's too unrealistic…they'll probably continue to fight for a while once Harry recovers…there'll be a Sirius-scene somewhere…then the Trial for the Dursleys (any suggestions for what to sentence them with?)…I'm still debating over whether Harry would tell Ron and 'Mione about the summer or not, before the Trial that is, since the abuse would probably be public knowledge after that…I don't know…still trying to decide whether Harry and Sev should get together before or after the holidays end…*sighs*…any opinions?

Oh…one more thing…does Remus have brown hair? What is his eye color? And Sirius? I believe he has black hair, no? And his eyes? *sheepish grin* I don't have the third book at hand…

Anyway, please REVIEW people!