Snape had barely gotten a wink of sleep on the eight hour long journey. He was already an insomniac, the bags under his eyes being a notable symptom, but this particular waking sleep was full of distress. The train's horn blew and he wasted no time getting out of the coach, hastily walking down the train cars to find the exit to hop off onto the platform at Hogsmeade Station. A changing panel lit up by sprites declared that the time was in the wee hours of the chilly morning, a trusting 4 am. He was thankful that it was still night out as it meant less people that could hold him back as pushing through a crowd was not his style. The scaly man wasn't one to run or break a sweat, students and strangers alike usually separating for him like the Red Sea, whether from knowing fear in his presence or intimidating stare. However, on this particular night, the potions professor had lost his composure at the idea that every second he spent stuck in the Wizarding World was another moment that the Potter boy would be stuck in that toxic and infuriating household. There was no time. Snape ran past the businessman with their long trench coats and leather suitcases, gaining some intrigued eyes on him to which he paid no heed. He could only hope that the esteemed Minerva McGonagall had gotten the owl messenger and made haste on preliminary measures before he arrived at Hogwarts.
The tall man made his way to the carriage arrival area 500 metres away. Waving his hand out in front of one, the carriage driver opened the passenger door and asked, "Destination?"
"Hogwarts and hurry with it. Time is of the essence," Snape stated as he caught his breath.
The stern wizard would have loved to use apparition to teleport to the academic castle, but it had been warded against that for safety and the distance was far too lengthy to attempt the jump to the nearest place. He was not in a rush to gain any fatal or bodily injuries from splinching. As advanced in magic and mental concentration as he was, he knew he was pulling himself by the strings of his bootstraps already. Not even conducting and grading OWL exams or being an undercover agent as both a trusted member as one of the Death Eaters and secretly a member of the Order of the Phoenix had left him feeling such a loss of control.
He passed over thirteen sickles, the silver coins making the driver smile. "Express service it is then," the coachman confirmed. The fee was typically ten sickles, around the fare of the Knight Bus, but the extra tip was to ensure their carriage was without delays or detours as he was not in the mood to sightsee. Snape watched as the powerful black winged Thestrals lifted the dark carriage with a leap and quiet beating of their wings, a soft clack of their hooves across the cobblestone path being the only noise that other wizards who couldn't see them could make out.
As soon as he got to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he provided verification to the guards and got to the nearest fireplace in the Administrations and Checkings office. Taking some Floo Powder from a nearby vase stocked in case of emergency or needed haste, he sprinkled some in the fireplace and stepped into the transformed heatless green flames.
Speaking loudly with precision, the crackling of flames and elevated wind whipping in his ears, he affirmed his destination, "Minerva McGonagall's Office!"
He thanked his lucky stars that there was a fast mode of transportation allowed in the castle once you were on the grounds. Snape sparsely used the form of travel since it was similar to showing up inside someone's house without their permission, but he didn't have to worry when he appeared in McGonagall's office as she was expecting him. Startled as the head of the Gryffindor house was when he stepped out of the glowing flames, she was relieved to see his grim face.
"Severus!" she cried, readjusting her hat and picking up some parchment that she had dropped. "Thank goodness you're finally here. I feared the worst when I got your letter and immediately sent word to the Ministry of Magic."
"Minerva, please tell me you've got word of what actions have been taken in the time I've been gone. I need to know how the Potter boy will fare," Snape's voice begged, every fiber of his being feeling as if it had been caught alight and what caused it needed to be extinguished. "I don't know what will matter, but after what I saw today, if I don't see to it myself that he is relocated anywhere else but there, I will surely never forgive myself." Lily will never forgive me, he added in his thoughts.
Her face creased with empathy that a mother would have for a child who had fallen and scraped their knee. Despite him being called heartless, she hadn't seen Snape be so human or honest with his emotions in years, the person in front of her looking more like a lost puppy than a cold and stern statue. The transfigurations professor held his cold and broad hands in hers.
Looking up at him, she reassured, "The Ministry should be working as fast as they can with the wizards outposted in the Muggle world, something called the Human Services and Child Welfare Agency, to get Harry secured and out of the care of the Dursleys." The end of her sentence sizzled with her hidden under the surface rage at the mention of Harry's remaining blood relatives. "All they need left is for someone to sign the papers and procure an agreeing statement from the child and his current guardians."
"Thank you, Minerva. I'll see to it," he confirmed, his head nodding slightly, knowing she was leaving the task to him.
She let him go and handed him a small magnifying glass. "This will take you where you need to go," the wise witch informed him.
Snape, in an instance, vanished into thin air as the portkey sucked him into a mini vortex to the Ministry of Magic. McGonagall felt a weight fall off her shoulders. Looking at the dancing and warm flickers of orange and yellow, she thought to herself that although she may have not been able to protect Harry when he was a baby, much as she protested Dumbledore's orders to leave him on the steps of Privet Drive on a cold and dark night, but she was able to right a wrong now. Clutching her velvet robes tightly in determination, she said in something more of a whisper, her eyes watering, "Merlin, protect that child and allow him to be brought to safety."
Arriving at the Ministry of Magic through yet another carriage ride and a thorough inspection check at the front, he was led to the Department of Muggle Affairs. Since it was regarding serious allegations against muggles out of their jurisdiction in the Wizarding World and had to do with the livelihood of the Boy Who Lived, prophesied in hushed documents kept in the Ministry as the one to vanquish Voldemort, they had brought in Arabella Figg for questioning and testimony as she was entrusted by Dumbledore to watch over the boy on rare occasions. The cat loving breeder and dealer provided sound evidence of what she knew of the Boy Who Lived's state and the Dursleys in a calm and slightly nervous manner, uncomfortable due to the contempt her presence as a squib was perceived as in the Wizarding World, much preferring to get back to the known comforts of the Muggle World.
Snape was to be questioned under the same authoritative manner, inside a separate safely guarded magic proof and soundproof room. He answered the questions with direct and well detailed answers, trying to keep his impatience and steadily growing temper at bay. The potions professor understood their meticulousness as he explained to them why he visited the boy without informing the Ministry or having Dumbledore's explicit instructions to, but he knew every minute that passed was a delay to him rescuing the child. It made him feel sick to his stomach that he could be the cause of the rough hand that tightly held Harry's scrawny arm eliciting further harm.
Just as Snape was willing to pounce at the wizarding officer and grab him tightly by the lapels, ready to tell the man to get straight to the point because there were better things that he could do than just sit still, he was told, "Just one final thing. It's clear to us that you brought this matter up with great clarity in judgement and your story lines up with Arabella Figg's. The necessity to expedite the move of Harry Potter to the Wizarding World before he becomes of age to enroll at any wizarding academy of choice has been confirmed. We value your time and if you don't mind, please look at these papers we received from the Muggle World before we move with our next line of order and talk to our chain of command."
They passed a stack of terms and conditions, along with a contract, neatly across the table to the seated Hogwarts professor. Snape picked them up and sifted through it, initially eyeing the guard as the Ministry of Magic was known for corrupt officials and he was a great judge of character if he had to say so, right 90% of the time. The two people in the room seemed best fit for the line and he continued rifling through the pages informing him of how the process worked and what needed to be filled out. Using a supplied quill, he documented what he knew of Harry and how he was going to be the new guardian, a decision he hadn't made lightly when he had rode the Hogwarts Express, but he couldn't see anyone better to watch the child, especially since Dumbledore's judgement wasn't to be trusted. All that had to be done was to retrieve the signatures of the Dursley couple and Harry's. He presented the pile to the officer, who in turn grabbed it and ushered him out of the room, walking him to a random desk where a button was handed over.
"Are you sure you're ready to do this?" an Auror, who took the items from the officer, asked Snape. The skilled wizard was a wily woman who seemed to have the energy of a sunflower following the Sun. "I'll be accompanying you for safe measures in case anyone dangerous is lurking around the corner, but once we get there, it will be your prerogative to collect the signatures from the guardians and the Boy."
"His name is Harry." His patience thinned as his determination strengthened, wishing that people would address Harry as a person rather than a legend or an object to be tossed around. Then again, he couldn't blame that most people heard the story of Voldemort and the baby that defied all odds as a nightmarish tale told to children for them to behave or have hope. "I need no reminder of the huge impact this will have in history and for the child when we remove him from his blood relations."
"Right, Harry," she said with a chuckle. "Grab a hold of my robes and don't let go until we're there."
Snape did as he was told as she tapped the button with the tip of her wand, unlocking the spell of the portkey access, and they were whisked to Little Whinging, fumbling and tumbling to a landing as they ended up on a patch of grass at a road intersection of Privet Drive and Corinthia Lane. They both got up and dusted themselves off, hopping onto the tarmacked road in case the sprinklers came on and wetted them. For the middle of the night, the air was humid and foggy with the moon shining through on the pitch dark neighborhood.
"Couldn't the landing have been better?" he asked, grumbling to the Auror. "I'd like to see you try and control a randomizing portal. Which house was it again?" She was going to check a map that she was given for the assignment, but stopped when she saw the potions professor had briskly walked away from her and towards the house labeled with a brass number 4 on the front of its door. When she caught up with him on the driveway, she said, "I'll stand out guard and transform myself into an unsuspecting owl for safe keeping."
She handed him the paper and Snape nodded. He arrived at the doorstep and rang the doorbell harshly, intending to wake the Dursleys and have them come out in a quick and timely fashion. Soon, he heard the stir of people talking, the whine of their son, and the slam of a window closing above as he heard Petunia's gasp and Vernon's shouting. The sound of feet shuffling down wooden stairs could be heard and eventually the door opened, Snape staring nearly eye to eye with the beet faced stout man and his cowering wife hiding behind him.
"Make him go away!" she cried.
"What in God's name do you have ringing at this hour?!" Vernon bellowed, his voice echoing throughout the neighborhood in the dead of night. "I thought we told you to get lost!"
Snape handed the thick stack of papers into his hands. "I'm here to take Harry off your hands," he said, phrasing his words in terms that they'd find more agreeable and understood. "There is the proof of change in guardianship that you asked for and said you'd agree to if I could get them. It only requires both of your signatures and Harry's."
The stout man was flabbergasted and at a loss for words as he remembered his taunt spoken in rage that he hadn't expected the wizard to make good on. He thumbed through the pages, verifying that the document was indeed made and upheld by the country's law-abiding social services rather than any magical law or what not.
"What makes you think the boy will choose to go with you?" Petunia asked, masking her fear of the wizard and the way magic just clung all over him with anger. "Tell him, Vernon," she implored her husband.
She was met with the color ebbing away from his face, covered in a pallor look and shaky hands, "I think we need a pen and should both sign this."
Petunia responded, "But this man-", before getting cut short by Vernon's stern and serious voice.
"No." There wasn't any pause or joke and she could tell he wasn't going to listen to her like he usually did. "Don't argue with me, honey. Get me a pen," he instructed.
Vernon wasn't one to risk the happiness of his family over the law. The papers were legitimate. If Social Services or the court of law found them guilty of child abuse or neglect, they could be tried and sentenced to jail with insurmountable proof. His wife wasn't of strong constitution either and would crumble at the backlash of the people talking. He could see himself losing his job and the way it would affect Dudley the worst. His son could end up being bullied and mocked at school as well as barred from other well renowned institutions like Smeltings. Those were things he couldn't give up along with his pride. Vernon was a man who kept his words when stuck between a rock and a hard place. Signing over the brat was a small loss that he could handle and he determined this was the best legal opportunity.
His wife came back with a black ballpoint pen as he scanned through the rest of the clauses. Nowhere in the document were they listed as needing to be acquitted for their crimes and it was just a simple filing of guardianship document. If anything, they could easily lie afterwards that the Freak had ended up in a boarding school for ne'er-do-wells since he was too much of a handful and threw violent tantrums that disrupted their family. He grinned, the color coming back into his cheeks as he kissed Petunia and assured her no harm would come from signing the papers. They both did so, his in large chicken scratch and hers in diminutive cursive letters.
Vernon shoved the papers back at Snape's chest. "Here! Grab him and go."
The couple moved aside as Snape walked through the entrance. He was a few steps up on the wooden staircase when he heard a thud and a muffle coming from below him. Snape paused, his heart stilling as his instincts told him that he wouldn't be finding Harry sleeping upstairs in a bedroom. He crept back down the stairs and looked where the married couple were staring profusely at. The tall and spindly man got closer to the raspy breathing he could hear from inside the broom closet. He had never, in all his years, thought to look at the noticeably padlocked small storage space with an unusual golden grate installed for Harry upon his inspections of the house. Of course, Snape could see why the Dursleys would find it fitting to have him there. The child would be unnoticeable and easily forgotten in the same manner as knick knacks and cobwebs, in the same way he'd never notice unless he knew where to look. His mind raced in horror at the ghastly human he would unmistakably unearth, potentially in a worsened state than he had last seen him.
With a wandless phrase, he easily unlocked the padlock and opened the white angled cupboard to find Harry, wrapped in a ratty blanket on a worn out mat, tucked in a fetal position. The oversized jumper and gray sweatpants the brunette had on was stained with blood and riddled with holes in spots. One touch of his hand elicited an unconscious groan, revealing a jarring amount of bruises that marked his arm as the jumper sleeve fell a bit out of place. What Snape could see in the small amount of moonlight illuminating the boy was a black stain surrounding the boy's midriff, the smell of blood and sweat lingering in the air as Harry was sweating buckets as his body was no doubt keeping him asleep to stave off the pain he'd feel if he were awake.
Fearing he could cause the malnourished and exhausted child more pain if he tried to pick him up, Snape took out a small vial of brewed dittany. It was best taken orally but Harry was incapacitated and in no state to try that. Thankfully, a little went a long way. With a lift of Harry's jumper which clung to his skin, a pained groan coming out of his mouth, Snape poured the remaining contents onto Harry's middle. The boy let out a relieved murmur as his breathing became instantaneously less labored, stagnating almost back to a regular rhythm. The robed professor didn't even have to check with the diagnostic spell to know that the dittany had saved Harry from potential doom and bleeding to death. The contract could wait and technically the Dursleys had already signed off their part. The most important matter was getting him to Hogwarts and immediately under Madam Pomfrey's strict but tenderly nurturing care.
Snape put the papers inside his robes and whipped out his wand, a flick of it compiling the remaining few possessions of Harry's into his inventory. The Dursleys gasped and he gave them a glare to quiet any protest. He put the wand away and gingerly picked up the underweight child, cradling him in his warm embrace, the movement causing some of Harry's brunette hair to part to reveal a small lightning scar. Snape whistled and the transfigured Auror, still in owl form, flapped indoors holding a button in its talons. Petunia shrieked as the owl landed on his shoulders and with a resounding hoot, they were whisked away, teleported back to the Ministry of Magic.