As the memory darkened, all Ron could make out were the white walls which seemed to glow in the darkness and a ceiling that was very low. He noted that the ceiling wasn't flat, it was cascading in step like formation. He realised that this must be the cupboard under the stairs where Harry slept.

Harry whimpered in his arms, burrowing deeper into Ron's warmth. He'd already lived through this, he didn't want to see it again.

The memory drifted in closer where the shape of a very small boy could be made out. The boy had messy black hair and green eyes but wore no glasses.

Harry.

Ron noted that he was very small, even for six. He was clutching a watch that glowed with light, the dial was cracked but the young Harry was counting.

"Ten… nine… eight…"

Hermione was the one that spotted that Harry was counting down the minutes to midnight. She must have had a confused look on her face as Harry spoke.

"My birthday… I always celebrate at midnight…"

Hermione inclined her head in acknowledgement as she focused all her attention on the screen before her. This was going to somehow explain why she and Severus shouldn't be mad at Harry and Ron for what happened between them.

As the watch chimed midnight, little Harry spoke seemingly to himself.

"Harry birthday Harry…" he whispered.

The little Harry began to hum Happy Birthday when great thuds could be heard. Obviously, someone was descending the stairs.

Little Harry went stiff before diving under a ragged blanket drawing it up over his head.

"Please… please… please" he pleaded.

The footsteps stopped outside the door of the cupboard and a small click sounded as the latch was released.

Soft light filtered through the door illuminating the impossible small bundle bound in blankets.

Molly choked down a sob at the tiny bundle.

A large hand reached out and snatched the blankets away revealing a thin frame, drowning in an oversized t-shirt.

"I know you're awake boy…" A harsh voice rasped, "…turn over and face me."

The little boy didn't move.

"Now!" The voice snapped.

The boy jumped and slowly rolled over, shielding his eyes from the light.

"Uncle?"

"Yes, boy…" the large figure moved back.

A thick, meaty face came into view as Harry's eye adjusted to the new amount of light. His large moustache dominated most of his face but what struck Severus was the excited glint in those eyes.

The boy whimpered again, drawing his knees up.

"Come with me." Harry's uncle demanded, moving back to give Harry room to exit the cupboard.

Harry crawled out onto the cold floor and looked up at his uncle.

"Uncle?"

"Today is your birthday, isn't it?" his uncle asked, his voice impossible soft.

Harry nodded.

"I've got a present for you but you've got to come with me to get it."

Harry beamed at the man above him.

"A present for Harry?"

"Yes, but you can't tell Dudley he would get jealous, okay?"

Again Harry nodded, getting to his feet as his uncle walked through the kitchen to the back door. He swiftly turned the key and opened the door letting the humid night air rush in.

Despite the temperature, Harry shivered.

His uncle watched through the door, gesturing Harry to follow.

Harry opened his mouth to speak but his uncle pressed a finger to his lips, telling Harry to be silent and follow.

Harry obeyed, he knew not doing what his uncle said led to pain and Harry didn't want pain.

He tottered behind his uncle as they walked down the garden, the grass wet with dew under Harry's bare feet.

His uncle stopped at the shed, unlatched the door, and gestured inside.

Harry peered into the darkness but couldn't see anything.

He pointed inside.

His uncle nodded with a smile as Harry walked inside.

As Harry's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he couldn't see any gift; he couldn't see anything except dust and cobwebs.

Harry began to shiver violently as the door closed, blocking out the light from the moon. He could feel his Uncle's huge form behind him. He wanted to ask where his present was but thought better of it. His uncle would give it to him when he was ready. He stood still and silent, trying to stop the tremors running through his limbs.

Harry's uncle ran his fingers through Harry's hair causing the boy to jump. His uncle never usually touched him in a kind way if he touched Harry at all. He didn't want to defile himself with the freak.

His meaty hands settled on Harry's shoulder as he spoke into his ear.

"Do you want your present Harry?"

Harry thought about it for a moment, then nodded.

"Okay, I need to sit you on the workbench while I get it ready."

He quickly picked the small boy up and placed him on the dusty bench, Harry didn't mind he was used to being dirty from all his chores. He swung his legs back and forth while his uncle pottered about.

"Okay, Harry. Your present is ready but I need to close your eyes."

Excited Harry obeyed without question.

Harry felt his uncle's hot breath close to his face.

"Open your mouth and stick out your tongue."

Harry tilted his head in confusion but obeyed.

He thought his present might be sweets or cake that he always saw Dudley eating.

Something hot and wet entered Harry's mouth.

He bit down.

His uncle groaned.

Harry tasted copper in his mouth and instantly recognised it as blood.

His eyes shot open.

His uncle's face was very close to his own.

Too close.

Blood smeared his uncle's mouth and Harry shuffled away.

A firm hand gripped Harry's hair pulling his head back hard, making the boy whine in pain.

"Stick out your tongue." His uncle demanded.

Harry whined again as the grip tightened but obeyed hesitantly.

"Good boy, Harry."

Harry flushed at the praise as his uncle's tongue invaded his mouth.

Harry squirmed but his uncle's grip held fast.

He drew away, his moustache left a burning sensation across Harry's lips and chin.

His uncle kissed down his neck, the whiskers tickled and Harry giggled.

His uncle continued and bit down hard on Harry's shoulder causing the boy to yelp.

His uncle clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Shhhhh… quiet now…"

Harry whimpered as tears sprang to his eye.

"You bit me first…. Remember Harry."

Harry whispered apologies against his uncle's palm.

"Oh… I know you're sorry…"

His uncle ran his thumb over Harry's bruised lips.

"…beautiful…"

Harry's head tilted in confusion, he didn't understand. He was beautiful. His uncle had never called him that before, only boy or freak. Not Harry and never beautiful.

A hand gripped his shirt tearing it in two, exposing Harry's small and frail boy to the night air. Harry shivered, his nipples becoming stiff.

A thumb ran over one and Harry whined at the strange sensation.

"Are you enjoying your present, Harry?" his uncle asked.

Harry shrugged.

It wasn't good but it was bad either.

His shoulder ached from the bite but the thumb sweeping across his chest was warm and gentle.

"I'll make it even better."

His uncle reached between his legs, cupping his private place. He ran his fingers around it, squeezed it gently as Harry jerked and kicked.

"NO… no… uncle… please…"

"Shhhhhhhhhh…. Pretty baby… you'll like this…"

He pulled Harry too big boxers down with little trouble.

Harry began to cry, big tearing streaming from those green eyes and his uncle made a strange noise at those tears.

"Yes… cry for me…" his murmured licking the tears from Harry's cheek.

A hand pulled him to the end of the bench as his uncle forced him to lay back.

Confusion and fear overtook Harry as a finger pressed against his most secret place before plunging inside.

"AH!" Harry cried out.

His uncle didn't bother to silence him this time.

His uncle bent his finger and Harry could feel his long nail scraping against him.

It hurt.

"please… stop… NO!" Harry screamed.

"If you think this is bad, it's going to get worse."

His uncle rose and Harry heard the clink of his belt and the swish of the leather as he removed it.

If he was going to punish him he wanted it to be over.

Harry heard the belt thud down next to his head.

He whimpered and drew his knees, trying to make himself smaller when his uncle grabbed his hips painfully, dragging him across the rough wood.

The jerking motion reopened the welt on his back and blood began to run down his back. Harry arched trying to relieve the pressure on the wounds.

His uncle chuckled and Harry opened his eyes.

His uncle had removed his trousers and was stroking himself, laughing at Harry's discomfort.

He felt something soft and slightly wet at his back entrance and arched his back to get away from it when his hips were yanked down hard.

It hurt…. It hurt… It hurt.

His uncle groaned as Harry screamed.

Harry could feel something warm running down his leg.

His uncle pulled back and Harry thought it was over.

He thrust back in sending pain racing through Harry's hip and he screamed again, tears pouring down his face as he pleaded.

"No… please… stop…. STOP!"

"It's never going to stop… this is all you are good for, freak." His uncle hissed into his ears.

He thrust again.

The memory went black.

Tears were pouring over everyone's cheeks as they watched the tiny boy being raped by his uncle. He screamed and pleaded with him over and over but the man just laughed.

Harry knew the memory wasn't finished, he just passed out because of the pain.

The memory began to lighten again.

Little Harry jerked awake remembering his uncle thrusting into him, the pain flaring through his hips as he moved.

Harry groaned, pressing a hand to his back.

"Ow!"

A chuckle sounded from the corner.

Harry's head snapped to the source of the sound and saw his uncle resting against the workbench.

Harry realised he was on the floor.

He tried to get onto his knees but pain bloomed in his shoulder. Looking down at it, he could see it was sitting at an odd angle, obviously dislocated.

Harry twisted his head around trying to focus and take in his surroundings.

He saw the wood burner in the corner was lit and there was something sticking out of it.

His uncle's boot came down hard on his chest, knocking all the air from Harry's lungs as he coughed and spluttered.

"I'm not finished with you yet, boy."

Harry whimpered, clawing at the ground, he had to get out. Get away.

His uncle reached for a glove on the bench, pulling it on before turning back to the burner.

Harry gasped, filling his lungs with air.

He pulled himself towards the door, choking down a scream when his injured shoulder made contact with the floor.

He was almost there when a meaty hand clamped down on his ankle and dragged him back.

His uncle loomed over him, holding a glowing poker.

He spat at it and Harry flinched at the hiss.

"This is going to let everyone know I'd had you first… it will let them know you will always belong to me."

Harry hissed as he kicked and clawed at his uncle's hand, trying to free himself from that grip but he wasn't strong enough.

His uncle gripped his knee, spreading his legs and brough the poker down on his thigh.

Harry screamed as the world swam and went dark.

Everyone held their breath to see if the memory would lighten again. It didn't. The darkness remained for a moment, then disappeared back into silver mist before vanishing all together.

All eyes turned to Harry who was still sitting on Ron's lap, his hands clapped over his ears.

His eyes were closed, his breathing even.

He'd exhausted himself to the point he slumped in Ron's arms muttering about being a good boy, when sleep finally came over him.

Ron knew Harry didn't sleep well and decided to let him while he explained the rest. He could do that.

Without a word, Ron stood, cradling Harry in his arms as he headed for the other room.

Ron placed Harry on the bed, covering him with the blankets. For a minute he just sat there running his fingers through Harry's hair. He didn't see any major scars when he had been naked earlier but he was sure they were there for the memory alone, but he had the feeling there were more.

Hermione had observed the scene from the doorway.

She walked over and sat at Ron's side, placing her head on his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Ron… I didn't know…"

"I know you didn't but Harry chose me… you have to understand that… we didn't mean to hurt anyone…"

Hermione nodded, choosing her words carefully.

"That's not the end is it?"

Ron shook his head.

He stood and gestured for Hermione to follow. At the threshold he spoke.

"Is there a charm you can place on the room, so we can know when he wakes up or if he has a nightmare?"

Hermione bit her lip and nodded.

"I know one but I've never done it before."

"When have you ever failed at a spell, Mione?"

She smiled at the old jest.

Hermione pulled her wand from her robes, pointing it towards the bed.

She muttered the spell beneath her breath.

She nodded to Ron, who pulled the door shut as they turned to the others.

Many seemed to be lost in thought, some like Molly and Sirius were openly crying.

Severus just sat dumbfounded by what he had seen reminded of his own childhood. The memory of his father's fists came crashing down upon him but he forced them back. Now wasn't the time for his pain.

Ron sat and cleared his throat.

"That wasn't the end…"

Nobody spoke.

"Early Harry had a panic attack, he was probably terrified that those memories… would come up in the book and he panicked…"

Hermione bowed her head.

"… I noticed and took Harry into the other room to calm down… he's had panic attacks before… usually after a nightmare so I know how to deal with them."

"How?" It was Neville that spoke.

"How?" Ron asked.

"How do you deal with them?"

"I would normally climb into Harry's bed and hold him. Tell him everything would be okay and that nothing could hurt him if I was there. I'd coach him through mimicking my breathing because he tends to hyperventilate and eventually he'd fall asleep…right there… in my arms."

Neville nodded and Hermione began to put the pieces together. Ron and Harry sleeping together wasn't to hurt her or Severus, it was to help Harry. She felt so ashamed at what she had said to Harry and desperately wanted to apologize to him.

Ron placed a hand on her knee, letting her know she could apologize later when Harry had rested.

He always seemed to know what she was thinking when it mattered most.

"We went into the room and I calmed him down. We talked and Harry told me all about that…" Ron spat out the last word gesturing to the empty space where the memory played.

"… he cried and I held him and it just happened. We didn't mean anything by it… I swear… I just wanted him not to be afraid anymore… I wanted him to know he was loved…" Tears ran down Ron's face.

"…That I loved him and that I would always be there for him, no matter what. I wanted him to know that it wasn't his fault…"

Ron placed his hand over his heart.

"I never meant to hurt you and I'm sorry but I don't regret what happened. It helped Harry a lot… I love him… I love him so much and that's never going to change…"

Ron stopped speaking as his emotions overwhelmed him.

Hermione looked at Ron, then at Severus. He wore a strange expression on his face, somewhere between jealousy and admiration, but she wasn't prepared for what happened next.