First chapter: Be careful what you wish for
July 30th 11:30 pm
Harry was avidly waiting for his birthday to arrive. He was sick and tired of the beatings his uncle 'generously' showered on him. He hoped the Weasleys would come and get him out of here post haste.
He knew that this was a fool's hope as Dumbledore seemed intent on leaving him at the Dursleys 'for his own protection'. Ha! Dumbledore didn't know half of what was going on.
And Harry couldn't send him a letter; Hedwig was as trapped as he was. At least, she wasn't beaten, only a little starved. Thank God he was able to slip her scraps of food when he was doing his chores.
He was staring at his alarm clock. It read 11:59. Suddenly, it changed at 12:00.
"Happy birthday to me!" he sadly whispered. He wished that he would be taken out of there, no matter the means or consequences. He then went to sleep.
He dreamt of the time where Voldemort possessed him. Tossing and turning, he upsetted his fractured leg. He woke up screaming in pain.
A few seconds later, he heard the bolts on his door being unlocked. 'Oh crap!' he thought. His uncle bursted through the door, his ugly face purple with rage.
"Boy, when I am done with you, you won't even have a mouth to scream with, you bloody freak!"
He then proceeded to project Harry in the opposing wall with a great force. Harry's head collided with the wall. He barely heard the manical laughter of his uncle before darkness swallowed him.
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Albus Dumbledore woke up with a start as the mortal danger wards from 4 Privet Drive blared loudly in his chambers. 'Oh dear! Harry is in critical condition!"
He hastened to Severus's quarters, the only teacher present in Hogwart's for the summer. He bypassed the wards in his haste.
"Severus!" A bleary and disheveled Severus passed the bedroom door, yawning widely.
"What is it, Albus?"
"Harry is in mortal danger!"
Suddenly, Severus was very much wide awake. "What did this blasted boy do again?"
Albus sighed. "I must stress that these are the mortal danger wards meaning they go off only if he is in mortal danger. I must ask you to go investigate this matter immediately as I can't get out of the castle right now, Hogwarts' wards are being reconstructed and I must be present the entire time."
Severus groaned. "Must I really go? Knowing the damn boy, it's probably just a nosebleed."
"Must I remind you that you are the only Order member around here, except me and Pomfrey is out of the question, she will need to prepare the Hospital Wing."
Severus sighed. "Alright, Albus, but you owe me one."
Albus looked relieved. "Thank you, Severus, now off you go."
Severus nodded and got out his wand. He transfigured his nightclothes into his normal black robes.
Albus got a candy wrapper out of his pocket. "Here is a portkey."
The second he grabbed the portkey, he disappeared from view.
"Please be alright, Harry." The sad Headmaster's voice rang out in the now empty quarters.
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Severus arrived through a swirl of colors on the lawn of Four Privet Drive. He walked up to the door and whispered "Alohomora!" The front door opened silently to let him in.
Once inside, he lit his wand tip with a whispered "Lumos!". He walked silently through the house, searching for a hint as to where Harry was.
When he arrived to a padlocked door, he opened the door just to be sure Harry wasn't here because, surely Saint Potter can't be in there!
"Alohomora!" The door opened and the tang of spilt blood hit him squarely in the face. 'Oh god! It smells as if I am in a butchery!' He squinted at the inside of the room. He made out a form sprawled on top of the measly bed.
With growing dread, he slowly made his way towards the form. He relit his wand with a whisper. As the light let him see what was sprawled on the small bed, he couldn't retain his small gasp. Harry Potter was in a right state.
Bloody from head to toe, three of his members in an odd angle, his dislocated lower jaw but worst of all, his unhealthy pallor and deathly stillness. He trod over to him, checking his pulse. It was faint and his chest was almost still.
Cursing under his breath, Severus scooped up the boy in his arms, mindful of the boy's legs who seemed badly broken. He never apparated this fast in all his life.
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Meanwhile, Albus had roused Pomfrey from her sleep, just in case. They anxiously waited for Severus to return, fearing the worst.
They were rewarded by a horrifying sight: the Boy-Who-Lived all bloodied, deathly still in the arms of a livid and frantic Potions Master.
"He's fading fast. Please help him, Poppy, he's dying!" Poppy was shocked by two things.
Firstly, the battered state the poor boy was in. Secondly, was that worry she saw in Severus's eyes?
She quickly shook herself. There was a very important life to save, the hope of the Wizarding World. She whipped out her wand and started scanning the body placed on the bed in front of her. She gasped as she finished her scan, immediately bursting into activity.
"Out, both of you!" The two men let themselves be pushed out of the Hospital Wing. They sat on the benches just outside the doors, settling for a long wait.
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An hour later, the doors opened to let a weary and blood-stained Poppy.
"How is he, Poppy?" Albus asked.
"He is stable, though if he will recover is up to him, I've done what. There are some things even I can't heal." Poppy looked downright horrified.
"What happenend to him, Poppy?" Albus asked worriedly.
"I'm not sure he will walk again, at least not without a cane. He was badly starved. He has some old scars as if it wasn't the first time he was beaten. His right leg is broken at four different places, making recovery difficult. His left ankle is broken. He has a concussion, lots of bruises and scratches, a sprained right wrist, his lower jaw is dislocated, a few teeth are missing, the nose is broken and he has a black eye. And … God, I don't know if I can get it out… he … was … tortured." Poppy had two shining tracks down her face.
Shocked silence met her from both men, Albus recovering first. "Oh dear! It is worse than I feared."
Severus was livid. "You knew this was going on?"
"Of course not. I knew he was mistreated but not to this degree."
"Not to this degree? Merlin, the poor boy was dying, is probably going to be crippled for the rest of his life, was even tortured and you say you were aware of some abuse going on and you did nothing to stop it? Albus, you do realize that if some people know this, they would be after your blood? You do realize you just lost my trust?" The irate Potions Master was livid at the end of his tirade, the top of his wand having little red sparks flowing from it.
"I know, Severus. I know. I am most disgusted with myself too." The Headmaster looked weary and old, the twinkle gone from his eyes. "It was for his own good, he was the most protected where he was, or so I thought. An old man's mistake, which I hope he will be able to forgive." He slowly got up from his seat, trudging towards his office.
"Can I see him?" he quietly asked Poppy. She nodded silently, not trusting her voice.
He entered the Ward, steeling himself for what he knew to be quite a horrifying sight. Harry laid in the white bed, seemingly whiter than the sheets he was laying on. There were contraptions around his legs to hold them into place while the Skele-Gro worked its magic. His sprained wrist was bandaged tightly, so was his head. His breath was still a bit slow, though less strained than before. A strand of his hair had fallen on his forehead, resting against his eyelashes.
He approached the small form on the bed, brushing the strand out of the way, unable to restrain himself from doing so. He severely chastised himself mentally, he shouldn't do this. It wasn't him. 'Or is it?' said a snide little voice in the back of his head. 'Shut up, stupid! No it's not!' he snarled mentally at the voice. 'Talking to yourself now, are you?' it replied, with the usual biting sarcasm his voice carried. 'Oh, great! Even my conscience wins over me. And I'm talking to myself on top of it. Talking to a little voice in your head is definitely not a sign of mental sanity.' He chastised himself. 'Not that you had any to begin with.' Now the voice took the unmistakable tone of his father's harsh voice. 'Shut up! I will not have you rip the last shreds of my sanity away from me. You already have ripped enough. You are dead to me and to everybody anyway.' He snapped at his conscience. 'Oh Merlin! Now, I know that I'm insane. As if I didn't already suspect it.' He shook his head to clear it a bit, to maybe dislodge the voice that sounded suspiciously like his father. He succeeded to at least keep the memories of his father at bay.
A moan attracted his attention away from his inner torments. The dark haired boy's eyelashes were twitching.
"Poppy!" he called through the infirmary ward. Madam Pomfrey poked her head through the door to her office. "Oh good, he's waking!" she came throught the doorway, her wand at the ready.
"Ow… hurts… my head… why does everything hurts?" the boy muttered.
"Mr Potter? Come on now, open your eyes!" said Madam Pomfrey as she positioned herself at his bedside. One eye cracked open then the other. He winced at the blinding white surrounding him. Again. 'Back here already?' he thought to himself.
"Why, hello dear! Are you feeling alright?" Madam Pomfrey asked.
"I…" his raspy throat prevented him from saying another word.
Pomfrey waved her wand at a water pitcher on a nearby table. It lifted and poured water in a glass besides it. Another wave and the glass was sailing through the air towards him, not spilling a drop of its content. His bandaged hand grasped the glass and he quickly drank nearly all of its content in a few gulps.
"Thanks. I'm feeling much better than I was a few hours ago. I guess you found out what happened?" A nod from the nurse confirmed his fears.
He shamefully bowed his head, mutters being uttered in a mantra. "They're going to think I'm weak, they're going to think I'm pathetic" and so on and so forth. A hand came on his shoulder, startling him out of his self-pity state.
"Mr Potter, there's nothing to be ashamed of." Said the soothing voice of the nurse. "In fact, it's the ones who did this to you who should be ashamed of themselves. It's child abuse and it's a crime. They will definitely go into trial for this." Vehemently said Pomfrey.
Harry looked horrified by what she said. "I don't understand… why should they be on trial? They did nothing out of line. I deserved it." Harry said in a convinced manner.
"Mr Potter, would you kindly refrain from ever saying this again in front of me unless you wish those retched excuses for relatives to be mangled beyond recognition." Said Severus in his silkily threatening voice.
The boy recoiled a bit in surprise and fear. His attention had been solely focused on the nurse so he hadn't noticed his teacher sitting there.
"Severus, don't startle the poor boy. He's been through enough without you startling him to the point he will upset his wounds." Madam Pomfrey said in a reprimanding tone.
Severus had the grace to look the least bit sheepish. However, his pride wouldn't allow him to say sorry. While Madam Pomfrey talked to Severus, Harry had relaxed back into his original position.
She turned her attention back to him. "And now my dear, what you need the most is sleep, rest and a good alimentation." She tried her best to be cheerful but Harry saw through it.
"What happened? What are you trying to hide from me?" Harry was becoming frantic with worry.
Her false smile dropped completely, leaving only seriousness in its wake. "You need a peaceful night."
Now, Harry was truly scared. "I wanna know and I wanna know NOW. It concerns me so I should know. I don't want half-truths. I'm sick and tired of not knowing what happens to me, dammit!" Harry was screaming by the end of his tirade.
"Mr Potter, mind your language!" Severus's now exasperated voice rang out in the ward. "I have had enough of your attitude. No one has to put up with this kind of behaviour. It is unappropriate at best and incredibly rude at worst. I know that you have been abused, but it is not a reason to be treating Madam Pomfrey like this, who has just about saved your life, you bloody ungrateful whelp! Now sit still, let Madam Pomfrey administer the Dreamless Sleep Potion unless you want to be stupefied in order to do it! You won't have any less pain or bruises in the morning, I can assure you of that. Now, swallow the damn potion and SLEEP!" Severus's voice could be heard two halls down from the Infirmary ward, so it rang loud and clear to poor Harry's eardrums.
The boy had his gaze firmly on the bed sheet when he extended his hand to Madam Pomfrey.
Poppy, who had been glaring at Severus, gave him the potion.
Harry downed it in a few gulps, made a face at the taste and collapsed on the bed, the flask still in his hand.
Poppy retrieved the flask from the boy's loose hand. While passing past Severus, her hand flew to his face before she could contain herself. She hissed lowly, as if it could wake Harry: "You bloody bastard, you ever upset the poor boy or one of my patients like that ever again and I will find new and interesting ways to make your balls go out of your eye sockets, am I clear?"
Severus looked faintly green at the perspective. "Perfectly."
"Good. Because I won't repeat it and you won't have a warning next time." Poppy went in her office and closed her door so hard, it nearly cracked.
He looked at the boy to see two shining tracks down his face. The twinge of guilt sent him walking briskly to his chambers.
Author notes: how is it? Honestly? R&R!