Disclaimer- The characters and settings belong solely to J.K. Rowling.

Ebony Scales: Hey peoples! I'm a little happier with the reviews, but don't stop there! Any helpful criticism would be appreciated.

Barbed Roses

Chapter 4: Shattered Illusions

Harry woke with a silent scream. He had been tormented with dreams of losing all of those he cared for again, and then being forced to stay with his 'family' forever. Such dreams overcame him night after night. Eventually, he learned to utter no sounds while stuck in his nightmares. He had learned that quite quickly, remembering when he used to be unable to hold back his cries. At those times, he'd wake up to yells and slaps due to the waking of Vernon. Eventually, to save himself from more pain, he learned to be silent. He still could not stay quiet during visions, for which he was regretful.

Harry shook from the aftereffects of his nightmare. He tried to calm his racing heart, but to no effect. Giving up on slowing his short, panicked breaths, he reached into a crevice in the corner of his cupboard. His hand reached around and, finally coming into contact with the item of his desire, pulled the object carefully out.

The smooth wood of his wand was somewhat comforting, even if he couldn't use it over the summer to make his life better. He couldn't be any gladder that he had sneaked it in the house and hidden it in his 'room'. It was comforting that he had magic at all, and he tended to try to remember that he would use it if there came a life-or-death situation. He had to remind himself sometimes when he was locked in the cupboard with horrible pain in his stomach from hunger that nothing was worth the chance of being cast out of Hogwarts other than the threat of imminent death.

If it ever came to that, Harry hoped he would be able to get over his fear of his Uncle and get to his wand in time. He didn't entirely trust that his Uncle wouldn't one day go too far.

The boy quickly stashed away his wand again when he heard noise in the kitchen, certainly not willing to chance that anyone would notice what he had with him an then destroy the precious object.

A few minutes later, the door of his cupboard was unlocked. He was finally let out of the darkness, if only to have him work on the chores given to him. With the usual warning, Harry started on the dishes lying out on the counter for him.

With pruned fingers, Harry quickly dried off his hands and looked back to his list of chores. Sighing, he climbed the stairs to work on Dudley's room.

Hours later, Harry was sluggishly cleaning the sitting room. He had only completed three of his tasks. The tired boy slowly dragged his feet from here to there in an effort to finish another chore. He felt characteristically exhausted from the combination of work and hunger. His uncle, who was lazing his Saturday away on the sofa, must have gotten fed up with seeing his slow progress and finally lost his patience.

"Boy! Get over here! Pick this up!" he screamed, pointing at a pile of clothing that had probably just been thrown down by Dudley. Harry limped over to it with as much speed as he could muster with thoughts of how this wasn't how he would ever allow himself to be treated in the future, once he got away from the muggles. Reaching the pile, he stuffed it into his arms and headed up the stairs.

Returning from the laundry room, Harry heard the front door slam shut as he stepped down to the first floor. He looked questionably at his uncle, who only glared in return as if he had done something out-of-line. The boy was about to leave in order to avoid a confrontation he would not win when the door opened of its own accord. He and his uncle both started at the sudden movement.

Harry stared wide-eyed at the intruder for a moment before narrowing his eyes. It was none other than his hateful potions instructor: Professor Severus Snape. Harry was cursing his luck at having the one adult who would most likely use anything he learned about his home life against his student show up at his house. Fate must be laughing at him right now, he was sure. This was the last person he needed to see him in any situation with his relatives. The man loved degrading him in front of his peers, and this would only give him even more ammunition than he had already.

Harry snuck into the kitchen and pressed against the wall next to the doorway, careful not to be seen. From here, he was able to hear the occurring dialogue without being noticed by either of the conversationalists.

"You are going to retrieve Mr. Potter before I am forced to take steps you may regret. After retrieving the boy, you are going to refrain from opening your oversized mouth as I speak with him," Harry heard Snape order in a dangerous tone. Vernon stuttered for a moment before gathering his wits about him.

"You are not going to order me around in my own home!" he stated in an incredulous voice. Harry was about to peer around the doorway to watch the proceedings, but Dudley obviously had other ideas. The smaller boy was grabbed from behind and, with almost no difficulty, thrown into the cupboard, hitting his head roughly on the way in. Harry heard voices coming from the sitting room, but was too dazed to make out the actual words. He attempted to tune them out to attempt to clear his head and hopefully make his escape.

…

It was hard for Snape to believe. There was no way this was the uncle of Albus' 'Golden Boy'. Though this may be where the boy got his nerve. Severus pulled his wand out and magically forced the door open.

"You are going to retrieve Mr. Potter before I am forced to take steps you may regret. After retrieving the boy, you are going to refrain from opening your oversized mouth as I speak with him," he informed the obese muggle, doing his best to intimidate the man. The big man stuttered briefly before becoming indignant.

"You are not going to order me around in my own home!" he cried. His mere voice was angering the Potions Master.

A muted sound came from the kitchen as Severus pointed his wand at Potter's uncle. He seemed most terrified of the threat of magic, which the former Death Eater used to my advantage. The man turned into a stuttering, quaking mess at the sight of the wand, a fine imitation of Quirrell. Severus had to disregard his earlier thought about where Potter got his nerve; the man standing in front of him would run at the very first sign of danger to his personal well-being.

A muffled thud from the kitchen caught the attention of the smaller man as he was threatening the patriarch of the family. Severus turned towards the doorway leading to the kitchen. There was a boy, most likely Mr. Dursley's son, making his way out of the room, his size rivaling that of his father.

"Where is Mr. Potter?" Severus inquired of him. The boy, seemingly unsure of what to do, looked to his father for guidance. One flick of the wand gained his attention and, subsequently, an answer.

"H-he's in his room," Dudley stuttered out, slowly inching his way towards the staircase. The professor glanced back at the elder Dursley as the overweight child scurried up the steps as fast as he could, clutching his bottom and screaming for his mother as he went.

"Where is his room?" was asked with forced patience. The cowering man pointed towards the kitchen and started hovering near the stairway. Snape narrowed his eyes at the man.

"You will be accompanying me until I retrieve him," he stated. Mr. Dursley nodded nervously and made his way to the kitchen as Severus motioned for him to go ahead. Dursley stopped in front of a small cupboard door and anxiously peered at the outsider. Severus stopped and raised an eyebrow in question, causing him to look away quickly.

"Well?" Snape asked impatiently. He had a feeling that he was not going to like the next thing that came out of the fat man's mouth. Potter's uncle motioned at the cupboard door.

"This is the boy's room."

…that feeling was right.

The vision of the Potter boy's home-life shattered before his eyes. The professor impatiently pushed Dursley aside while reaching for the door. As he unlocked and opened said door, he heard an unmistakable whimper of pain and fear. Severus Snape was stunned as he looked upon the poor boy; a feeling that he was not accustomed to experiencing. This was the very same boy that he had thought to be lavished with praise and unnecessary attention even at home.

Potter was curled in a corner of the small space of the cupboard. His wide eyes stared out in panic. He flinched when a hand was extended into the small area with the intention of helping. Severus was growing angry, but not at this abused boy in front of him. Merlin, no. The fact that this boy's own family would treat him in such a way was an awful eye opener. Snape had never thought one could grow up in such an environment and yet seemingly remain so innocent.

He reached in for Potter again, talking in soft, soothing tones as he did so; a rare sight indeed. The boy seemed to realize that he meant no harm and finally allowed the Potions Master to assist him out of his dark prison.

…

…

…

Ebony Scales: I would like to thank those people who have reviewed this story and stuck with it thus far. Please remember that helpful criticism and ideas would be appreciated.

(Edit 1/29/15) I changed this chapter a bit more to make it less utterly depressing, and to change Harry's attitude a bit.