IN NEED

Notes:

Hello dear readers!
For the first time, I dare write some age regression with my favourite character of all time, Severus Snape. I have been reading Snarry fics for over 15 years and have written some of my own, but lately, I've been exploring other types of relationships between Harry and Severus. And this is probably one of my favourites. And as one of the writers I like said, there isn't nearly enough Little Severus on AO3, so here's my take on it.

Special mention to my friend MusicalProstituteMyDear, who's always pushing me to write more. And to ekosma, whose fic "The Secret Classification of Severus Snape" inspired me to finally continue with this abandoned fic. I can't recommend that fic enough.

This fic has only been reviewed by me and English isn't my first language, so if you spot any mistakes, don't hesitate to point them out.

Special mention to felixir_official, whose photo I used as adult Harry Potter for the cover. Check out his TikTok and Instagram!

ENJOY!

Professor Harry Potter was walking towards the Infirmary of Hogwarts School of Witchraft and Wizardry. Having vanquished Lord Voldemort at 17, the now 25-year-old had built a successful career as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He'd found out in his fifth year with the DA meetings that he liked teaching, and that he wasn't bad at it either. So, he'd decided he would be of much more service to the wizard community if he helped teach the new generations to fight against the Dark Arts. That was a much better option than catching Death Eaters until the last of his days, he'd had enough dark wizards to last for a lifetime, thank you very much. With training and his extensive practical knowledge, Harry was the ideal candidate for this position. For the last three years, he'd lived, taught and learnt at Hogwarts, loving every minute of it.

On this Saturday afternoon, Harry was walking towards the Infirmary of the school. Madame Pomfrey had an almost miraculous hangover potion he was going to beg her for. He'd tried that mysterious concoction after the celebrations of the Chuddley Canons winning the league, and he was going to beg her for some of it today.

Tonight he had a meeting with his friend Ron Weasley. Ron had continued studying and he'd become Deputy Head of the Department of Aurors, so Saturday nights with him were scarce and far in-between.

On the odd nights they could get together, and especially if Hermione was working late at the Ministry, he knew they would get inevitably wasted. Harry wanted to get the potion in preparation for tonight's celebrations, as he didn't feel like having a massive hungover on Sunday morning.

As he was walking, he stopped when he heard some loud wailing and muffled shouting coming from the room. Harry smirked, feeling sorry for the poor child who seemed to be giving a rough time to Madame Pomfrey, probably after some nasty accident. No matter, he'd get in and wait his turn.

As he got into the room, however, he was shocked to find that three adults were surrounding a bed, trying to tie another one onto it. He saw Minerva McGonagall, Madame Pomfrey and the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, around the bed. All three of them were trying in vain to tie someone who was struggling; shrieking, sobbing and thrashing about.

For a moment Harry could've sworn he saw a bit of raven hair, and he immediately thought of Severus Snape. The Potions Master, who'd miraculously survived Nagini's attack, had come back to Hogwarts to fill his old post. But Snape was much stronger than this person, and wouldn't be crying and struggling against their colleagues, would he?

Whoever the person was, they must've been in pain, for Harry heard a loud wail and a shout of "LEAVE ME ALONE!". In a second, almost on instinct, his brain took charge of the situation.

"Stop it, you're hurting him!"

Harry's stern and authoritative voice stunned everyone to silence. Well, everyone but the person in bed, who took the chance to scurry away and curl up against the bedpost, as far away from the other adults as he could.

In two strides Harry went towards the bed, which was out of sight because of the three people gathered in there. The professors turned around and looked at him, Professor McGonagall seemed quite flustered.

"Harry? What are you doing here?" she asked, her Scottish accent coming out.

But Harry didn't answer and kept walking. He was still staring at them and didn't fail to notice how Madame Pomfrey tried to discretely put her wand away. No doubt she'd been using it to try and restrain the person on the bed.

Harry didn't stop his steps until he was in front of them. The three adults were in silence, the only thing he could hear was the muffled sobs coming from behind them. As he got closer to the person, Harry could see that the hair was not only Snape's colour but also the same length and greasy texture. Could that really be him?

"Back off" he ordered.

"Now, Harry, my boy, you don't know who that..." Dumbledore began, but he was interrupted.

"I don't care who that is, you're hurting him. Back off, now" he repeated, his voice low and stern, but it had the same effect as if he'd been shouting.

He registered both McGonagall and Pomfrey's somewhat afraid expressions, and Dumbledore's calm but assessing one. The Headmaster remained impassive, but both women obliged and moved away, letting Harry finally see what the commotion was.

Although he'd had his suspicions; when confronted with the fact he was shocked, although he hid it very well. On the bed, curled up against the bedpost with his knees close to his chest, there was no other than Severus Snape. Harry's eyebrow raised in surprise, but upon hearing the sobs he was completely sure now that what he'd heard when coming towards the Infirmary. The person he'd seen struggle against the professors and whom they were trying to tie to a bed, had been him.

He couldn't see his face because the long raven hair protected it from view, but he knew his eyes were full of tears. The image was hard to look at; the always proud Professor curled up in a ball, hiding his face as if he wanted to vanish from the world. Even when Harry managed to keep his expression calm and composed, alarms inside his head were blaring off. What on earth could have happened to put his always proud Professor in such a state?

"Professor Snape" he whispered with a gentle voice, taking only one more step "it's Harry Potter. Can you look at me, please?"

At first, he shook his head, the long hair moving with his movement. But after a few seconds, as if recognizing the voice, he looked up.

Harry had to make use of all his self-control to not yelp in surprise. Severus Snape was there, but there was nothing left of the man he knew. His normally cold and empty pools of darkness that were his eyes were now looking at him with fear. Severus Snape, who'd looked at one of the most evil wizards in history and been able to deceive him without flinching, was looking at him with terror. His eyes were bulgy, red-rimmed and full of tears, which had already been rolling down his cheeks.

He had a terrified expression on his face and he was sucking his thumb, trying to silent the violent sobs that were racking his body. He wasn't wearing his usual black robes, instead, he was clad in a torn hospital gown which allowed Harry to see more of his skin than he'd ever seen. He was horrified at the paleness of his skin and scrawniness of his body, despite his considerable height.

Harry knew instantly what was going on, he'd read it before somewhere, although he had never seen it with his own eyes. From what he could gather, Severus Snape was in Little headspace, where he'd mentally regressed to a point in his childhood. He couldn't be more than two years old, probably even younger than that, so he had to proceed with caution.

"Hello, sir" Harry whispered, smiling.

He still talked to him with respect but he tried to infuse the title with as much calm and kindness as he could muster. He had to remind himself that the man in front of him wasn't the Professor he knew, regardless of his appearance. He then knelt to the floor and dragged himself a bit closer to the bed, putting himself at Severus's eye level.

The man sniffled in acknowledgement but kept his thumb in his mouth, probably in an attempt to self-soothe that wasn't working. Harry felt a pang in his chest. Despite loathing the man for years, he'd come to know enough of him to understand why he was the way he was. He had suffered all his life, alone, and right now being cruel and cold towards the others was the only form of protection he had.

Severus always attacked first, never backing down from a fight and stubborn as Harry himself. And that was why right now Harry hated seeing him cowering away from them, fearful and in pain. Severus had never cowered before him, even in their most violent outburst of anger; and it was unnerving to see him now so afraid. The man was looking at him through narrowed tear-stricken eyes, probably wondering why Harry, of all people, was talking to him.

"Can I come closer?" Harry asked. He didn't want to scare him as the other adults had done, and he guessed asking permission was the first step.

Severus took a ragged breath as if making sure he'd heard correctly and stared at him, his eyes wide in shock. Harry kept his stance, holding his breath and not daring to move a muscle until Severus seemed to relax a bit and gave a slight nod of permission. Harry nodded and dragged his knees across the cold stone floor until he was right next to him.

"Hey" he whispered, leaning a bit towards him "are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

The overgrown boy nodded and showed him one of his arms. Harry felt instantly enraged at the people who were still behind them. Severus had red marks on his arms, not quite bruises yet but they were marks of hands that had grabbed him too hard. He took Severus' arm to observe it better, making sure he wasn't applying any pressure or holding him too tight.

"I'm sure this hurts. Do you want me to put some ointment on them?" Harry asked in a soft voice, Severus only nodded again and Harry took his wand "Accio ointment."

While the jar flew through the room, Harry stood and sat on the mattress. His movements were slow and gave Severus plenty of warning time, sitting down close enough without making him feel crowded. The jar flew across the Infirmary room, floating until it landed on Harry's already waiting palm.

But Severus was still upset. While his sobs had diminished, Harry could feel he wasn't calm enough. Applying the ointment wouldn't hurt Severus, but he didn't want to risk scaring him or upsetting him further. So, Harry made sure the boy saw his hand before he slowly placed it on top of his head. He stilled and his breath hitched but he didn't move away.

"Shhhhh relax" he whispered, his tone low and deep "take a deep breath for me, okay? Can you do that?"

Severus looked up to him, his eyes still wet, but his expression blew Harry's breath for a split second. While still a bit fearful, those black eyes were full of wonder and, above all, gratitude. Seeing the emotion in those bottomless dark pools both shocked and humbled Harry. For a second it felt like gravity had shifted, and he was Severus's entire universe. He felt a rush of adrenaline in realising how much he'd wanted someone, anyone to look at him like this.

Harry smiled and he took a deep breath, encouraging Severus to follow suit. Severus did, taking a deep breath through his congested nose and then exhaling.

While Severus regulated his breathing Harry's hand was still on his head, playing with his long hair. His whispered soothing words of encouragement seemed to be helping, as well as his caresses, which the Potions Master seemed to relish on and lean into. Severus shifted a little closer to him, and Harry's hand moved towards his back, rubbing up and down.

It didn't take long for Severus's breathing to stop being erratic and return to a more normal pace.

"Better?" Harry asked, the man looked up at him while he wiped his tears away and nodded "Okay, let's put this ointment, shall we?"

Harry took the jar, opened it and took some ointment in his fingers. It had a thick consistency and gave off a strong smell of mint. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Severus smelling the air, his face leaning towards the jar. Harry smiled and held it closer, Severus closed his eyes and took a whiff. He seemed to be mentally cataloguing the ingredients necessary to produce that smell.

"Can you show me your arms, please? I'll apply this and you'll see it'll stop hurting in a minute."

Severus froze, Harry waiting with the ointment in his fingers, and he feared he was going to back off. But he didn't. With very slow movements Severus showed one arm, and then he took out his thumb from his mouth and showed him the other.

"Very good, you're doing so well" Harry encouraged, knowing how hard this was for him. "Tell me if it hurts too much and I'll stop, okay?"

Harry waited for Severus' nod and then proceeded to put the ointment on his arms.

As he set to work he saw each and every red mark on Severus's arms, traces of the Professors' attempts at reducing him. He felt his fury boiling underneath the surface. It was outrageous, Harry couldn't believe how they could resort to violence with someone who was their colleague. And they claimed they cared about him! How dared they?

But Harry took a few deep breaths and tried to keep his feelings under control. Giving in to his unchecked anger would help nobody, least of all Severus. So, he focused on the task at hand, hoping the boy wouldn't notice.

"So'y" he heard a whisper from above him. His fingers stopped working the ointment on Severus' skin and he looked up, it was the first time he had spoken "you mad".

And then Severus sniffled, avoiding his gaze. Harry was sure he wanted to retreat his arm, to curl up against the bedpost and hide so that nobody saw him. So much for wanting to hide my feelings, he thought with a snort. But he was hardly surprised, after all, he was in front of one of the best spies in the entire country. Hiding your feelings from him was futile. Despite that, he wasn't going to let that anger come between them.

"No, I'm not mad with you" Harry assured him, giving him a small, reassuring smile "I'm angry at them, at what they've done to you. But I won't do anything to hurt you."

Harry wanted Severus to feel comfortable and safe in his presence and tried to keep him calm. But for a second he worried he'd done the opposite; since Severus gasped and his eyes filled with tears at his words. He said nothing else, his lips closed in a fine line, and yet Harry could almost feel the turmoil of emotions he gave off. The tears rolled down his cheeks in silence as Harry worked, and he wondered how many times Severus had heard such words before, if ever.

After the initial shock, Harry found his voice again, and he started to talk. He willed his words to distract the man, and he didn't mind what to say, as long as it kept him grounded. So, he told him about the properties of the ointment and what he should be feeling as he applied it. While listing the ingredients, it dawned on him that Severus had probably brewed that same batch himself, and yet had said nothing.

He stole a glance at his face and what he saw made him smile. Severus had his eyes closed, and his stance was a bit more relaxed as Harry tended to the last bruises on his arms. When he finished and levitated the jar back to its place, Harry was surprised and alarmed to feel him leaning his exhausted body against him.

"Hey, are you okay?" Harry asked, alarms blaring off in his mind as he caught Severus in his arms.

He gently shook him and tried to look at him in the eye, and when he did, he was breathless. Severus didn't utter a single word but he didn't need to, Harry understood his silent plea in his still glassy eyes.

He nodded as he accommodated the grown boy a bit better in his arms, and he felt him almost sag against him. Harry's instincts kicked in and soon he was whispering and shushing near the man's ear, willing him to relax. He felt Severus's hands grabbing the cloak he was wearing, asking him without words to stay with him. He held him a bit closer against him.

Harry's mind had a bit of difficulty conciliating the man he'd known for over a decade with this scared and comfort-starved child. But actually, thinking about it, it was only partially surprising. Severus, like every war survivor, must have had a lot on his plate to deal with. In fact, because of the role he had in the war, he was likely to have more horrors than the rest to deal with. All the trauma and unresolved issues had to come out somehow, but Harry guessed his escape would be the same as anyone's: alcohol or sex, or probably both.

However, seeing the little child in him was opening Harry's eyes even more to the reality of Severus Snape's life. How long had he been Little, with nobody to take care of him? How long had he been suffering in silence with no one to turn to, no one who cared? Concern and worry filled his expression as he kept the man close to him.

After a while of shushing and whispering Severus was much calmer but still, he kept his grip on Harry. He didn't want to let him go either, so he pushed himself against the bedpost too, moving Severus along with him. He noticed that his thumb had found its way back to his mouth.

"Hey, don't do that" he admonished in a gentle voice, pulling his hand away from his mouth "use this."

He took his wand out and with a flick of his wrist, he transfigured the tissues on the nightstand into an adult dummy. He then took it in his hands and presented it to the boy.

"Come on, take it" he smiled looking down at him "it's yours."

Severus looked at the soother and then at him repeatedly, in both fear and surprise, and Harry's heart clenched. He recognized that look. It was the look of someone who couldn't believe something that was only for him.

"Me?" he asked. His voice was high-pitched and sounded so different from what Harry was used to. Small and unsure.

"Yes, it's for you" his smile grew wider and fonder as he still extended his hand towards the boy "come on, take it."

Severus waited a few seconds. Then, with quick guarded movements as if he expected Harry to snatch it back, he took the dummy from Harry's hand and placed it in his mouth. His shoulders relaxed a notch instantly and Harry could see, from the little his hair wasn't covering, he'd closed his eyes again.

One of Harry's hands travelled to his face and started to wipe his tears away, and felt Severus leaning into his touch. His frown was more relaxed, his expression a bit more open, and Harry smiled.

"Why don't you sleep and rest for a bit, hm?" he asked in a low, encouraging voice "you must be exhausted..."

"'m no tired" the child whispered, although he rubbed at his eyes. Harry smirked.

"Of course not" he answered, his smirk still dancing on his lips "you don't have to sleep then. Just close your eyes and relax."

He let the man accommodate himself a bit more but when he was about to move away from the bed, a hand stopped him.

"Stay?"

Harry smirked, what an innocent boy he could be.

"Yes, I'll stay" he whispered with a reassuring smile.

His voice was gentle and sweet, and Severus nodded before curling up against Harry again. His face rested on Harry's chest and the young professor noticed the boy pressing his ear against him. He was listening to his heartbeat, and Harry felt his cheeks flush at the realization. It was such an intimate position and yet, such a child-like one, he felt breathless for a second. One of Severus's hands grabbed his robes, keeping a tight grip as if making sure he wasn't going to disappear into thin air, but Harry had no intention to leave.

The clock ticked and Harry felt his own eyelids become heavier, it was hard to keep his eyes open. The body he was holding also became heavier as Severus relaxed further and further. He must've been knackered, for soon his breathing evened out; he was asleep. Harry, being as gentle as he could, lay him against the pillow, moving away so he could cover him up with the sheets. He tucked him in and then looked at him, really looked.

Severus's expression was quite relaxed. He was sucking his dummy and a bit of drool was dripping from his mouth. It moved Harry to his very core, to see his expression so different from what Severus normally showed the outside world. It was the most endearing sight he'd ever seen.

But still, he wasn't completely at ease. His body was still straight and tense like he was expecting to be woken up every second now. He knew he should stay close, just in case, he didn't want to know what would happen if Severus woke up alone.

He turned around and sagged on the chair next to the bed, sighing dramatically. He then fixed his gaze on the other three adults that, he realized now, had been completely silent and observing all that time. When his eyes fixed on them he felt his magical core stir, the anger boiling inside him threatening to explode. But he had to keep it in check, if not for their sake then at least for Severus's.

"Tell me what happened" he demanded, his voice low and with a hint of warning.

"I don't think it would be wise, my boy. You saw what Severus did, he -"

"I only saw a poor boy, scared to death, until I came" he interrupted. His voice was only a whisper but it didn't fail to sound aggravating "what the hell were you thinking? Have you seen what you have done? He has marks of your hands. Yours. You grabbed him and pinned him to a bed, even though he was terrified."

"We were trying to calm him down, Harry."

"By pinning him down to the bed? Have you considered how scary that must've been for him, Minerva? How bloody painful?!" Harry fixed his hard gaze on the three adults. Dumbledore remained impassive, but both Minerva and Madame Pomfrey cast their eyes down. "He may look adult but in his mind, he's a boy, and you three are much stronger than him. You don't do that to a fucking boy."

He was past the point of not swearing in front of his colleagues, and he saw Madame Pomfrey's eyes narrowing, but he paid her no mind.

"What do you mean "a boy"?" Minerva asked, her voice suggesting surprise and confusion.

"Have you really not seen him? Is that how much you care for your colleague that you haven't realized that's not the Severus Snape you know?" Harry asked, gesturing the bed with the sleeping form of Severus Snape. He had to take a deep breath since he noticed his voice failing him, if he wasn't careful he could have an outburst of magic, and he couldn't let that happen.

"We do care about him, Harry" Madame Pomfrey seemed to have recovered her voice, and Harry didn't fail to notice how she'd taken his words as a personal affront to her caring for his patient "it's just that he wasn't calming and we had to do something..."

"Then you do something else, Poppy, not use brutal force" Harry whispered in frustration, but saw them looking at him expectantly. He sat straighter in the chair and ran a hair through his hair to gather his thoughts. He looked at the three pairs of eyes focused on him and started to talk.

"Severus has mentally regressed to a state of childhood. I've read about it before, but I'd never seen it with my own eyes. Physically there's nothing wrong with him, but mentally it's like you're treating a child. Judging from what I've seen, my best guess is that he can't be more than two, maybe three years old."

"Can that really happen? Can someone do that, return to a state of childhood, without... faking it?" Minerva asked, her eyebrows raised so high they were close to her hairline. Harry nodded, his eyes filled with worry.

"I've read about it in severe cases of trauma and PTSD. Although something can set off an involuntary regression, it is mostly done consciously by the person themselves." Harry explained "It's just another way of coping. I can only assume that, since you didn't know what it is or what to do, he hasn't shown you this side of him until now."

Silent was all he got, and it was answer enough for him.

Harry let his body sag further against the chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. He could sense a headache coming, lurking in the back of his mind.

"I'm going to look after him."