Hello again! Sorry for the lack of chapter last week, I had scholarship interviews! This chapter deals with Harry's abuse at the hands of his relatives, and then we meet Umbridge for the first time! Enjoy :)

As the summer drew to a close, Severus was left to reflect on all that had happened. To become the adoptive father to a teenager, and to the teenage son of his school-time rival no less, was still something he lay awake at night trying to comprehend. Though over the past weeks he and Harry had become relatively close, and trusting of one another, the idea that he was the son of James was in his mind every single day. Of course he knew that Harry was also Lily's son, and he never let himself forget it, even in the moments that Harry acted more like James (which, he had realised, was rare).

He would never have imagined this situation. He had truly despised Harry the first four years of his schooling, which was something he would not deny. Dumbledore had mentioned it several times throughout the summer. Severus could still remember the boy's first potions class, when he had beaten him down with questions about third year ingredients to crush any ego he may have.

Harry had admitted that he had been put off from potions because of that lesson. Severus had admitted it was because James had done a similar thing to him in their first potions class, and this led to Severus' determination in that particular class.

Yet despite all of that here they were, and dare he say it, they were close. Severus felt like Harry would talk to him about the problems he was facing. He had spoken to him a lot about the pressure of his fame so young, the burden of being the one to defeat Voldemort, how Sirius' callousness made him feel, and how it had felt for his friend's to ignore him. There was, however, one issue that they had failed to tackle.

Severus had been at a loss all summer of whether he should address Harry's abuse at the hands of his family. The young man had not only been through a terrible experience with the Triwizard Tournament and the return of Voldemort, at the end of fourth year, but then to return 'home' to such abuse was unimaginable.

But after he had left the hospital wing that day, and moved into Severus' quarters, Harry had not once spoken about it, despite his openness about nearly every other issue he had faced. There had been the odd mention of the Dursley's at the start, when rules were being set, when boundaries were being made, and the odd mention around Harry's birthday when talking to Sirius, and showing Harry the photos, but nothing since. Harry had not once volunteered information about his childhood with the Dursley's.

Harry spent his time reading, working, walking, drawing, talking to the teachers. The boy did not seem damaged by his experiences, but behaved as normally and rationally as any other boy his age. To begin with he had occasionally flinched if Severus moved too fast, but that disappeared after a couple of weeks. He hadn't had a single nightmare, to Severus' knowledge. He acted as any other teenager would, no hint of despair or mental trauma.

Physically, he was much improved as well. He had been taking his nutritional potions, eating regularly and his long daily walks had improved his physical appearance greatly. He was displaying muscles now, and not so many bones. Physically, there was no trace of the underfed, abused boy that had been rescued by Severus from the hands of his muggle relatives (unless, of course, his shirt rode up and the scars showed). He seemed, all in all, fine.

Still, Severus wanted to speak to Harry about it. As his guardian, he believed it was his role, but he hadn't wanted to interrupt the peace. This was different to a student in his common room; this was his ward, who lived in his home. Each moment they sat in the living room together, working or reading, was peaceful. Severus had not wanted to interrupt such peace. So he stayed silent on the subject of the Dursley's, and decided to wait until Harry felt comfortable enough to speak aloud about it before he made any remarks.

It was the morning of the 31st of August when it happened, at breakfast time. Harry was sitting at the dining table, sipping a bits-free orange juice, while Severus filled two plates with a full-English.

"Dudley liked his eggs fried. Aunt Petunia preferred them boiled."

It was a simple comment, but it made Severus pause, hand in mid-air, holding the spatula that was balancing the fried egg. An odd sight for any who could have walked in, but to Severus this was the first voluntary mention Harry had made of the Dursley's all summer. After his initial pause, Severus slowly continued his task, and posed a question to the boy, "At what age did you start cooking breakfast for them?"

Harry tensed a little, but still replied, "I was five."

Severus mumbled something along the lines of 'can't believe' and 'awfully young', and then turned to place a plate in front of Harry. The young man began to eat his breakfast with earnest, something he could do now without feeling sick, whereas Severus was a lot more tentative.

"Did you do many chores at that age?" He queried, when there was a silence.

"Most of them, yes." Harry answered, without looking up from his own fried egg.

"Didn't you split them evenly with your cousin?"

Harry paused, looking up at Severus with a mouth full of bacon and beans. He swallowed, and the grip he had on his fork tightened before he countered, "You've met my cousin."

"He didn't do anything, even at that age?"

"No." Harry's reply seemed final, and his gaze went back to be firmly set on his food.

"And you didn't –"

Harry slammed his fork down onto the table, making his plate and juice jump, splashes landing on the table. The look Harry shot towards Severus was angry, his palms laid flat on the table as he cut into Severus' question, "Why are you suddenly asking so many questions about the Dursley's?"

Severus placed his own knife and fork down, rather surprised at the overreaction, "Well, since you made a comment about them, I was just wondering –"

"Well stop wondering." Harry snapped.

Severus let the tone slide, and didn't say anything more as Harry continued to eat his breakfast. They finished in complete silence, and Severus summoned an elf to clear up. Binky was confused, since no elf was ever usually summoned to clean the Snape/Potter quarters, but sensing the tension she did as she was bid. When the elf was gone, Severus asked Harry to sit on the sofa with him, "Where did all that anger come from, Harry?" He enquired, gently, "I was asking harmless questions."

"Harmless questions always turn into an interrogation." Harry retorted.

Severus sighed. He folded his hands into his lap, "Harry I have held off an asking you questions about the Dursley's all summer. We have talked about everything else, but it is the day before school resumes and I feel we must talk about this before that. We have not once mentioned the abuse you endured –"

"Stop." Harry said, but his tone was only half-angry. The other half was pleading.

"No, this needs to be said." Severus told him determinedly, "I did not know how to bring up what you have been through in a discussion; I have waited for you to say something. You have seemed ok. You have not had nightmares, you have not lashed out. Now I realise you have not anything. By that I mean, I don't believe you have not dealt with it. I should have discussed this with you sooner, I apologise for that now."

"Instead you waited until the day before Hogwarts resumes." Harry said bitterly. He went to get up, but his guardian grabbed his arm and pulled him back down to the sofa. He reluctantly let it happen, and didn't strain.

Severus was used to feeling guilt, and it coursed through him now, "Yes. If such harmless questions make you that angry, it needs to be spoken about. Harry… What you went through…"

"It is in the past."

"The past is relative to the present, and to the future."

"I don't want to talk about it. I want to forget it ever happened."

Severus smiled sadly, "There are many things I want to forget ever happened, too. Things I did when I was younger, mistakes I made, decisions I regret. We both know that is impossible, however hard the realisation may be. It is possible, however, to move on from it. You can accept that it happened, and let it make you stronger."

"What do you want me to do? Have a grand old chat with you about how they hit me?" Harry slumped forwards, head in hands, miserable yet fierce, "You want me to tell you how they beat me bloody and threw me in a tiny cupboard to sleep? About the game Dudley made up with his friends to throw rocks at me? About all the times I was whacked or slapped?"

Even those few sentences were a surprise to Severus, friends throwing rocks? Even so, he knew it went so much further. He had seen the list Poppy had conjured up from Harry's medical exam, and he had seen his wards state when he had found him at the Dursley's. Severus was silent for a moment, simply listening to his ward's jagged breath. Clearly talking about the Dursley's caused Harry a lot of pain and a severe feeling of anxiety, "How about it we take it a little slower than that."

Harry did not move much, just placed his head sideways on his hands so Severus was visible to him, "What do you mean?"

"You don't have to tell me everything at once." Severus began, hands folding and unfolding and stretching, as was his habit, "You can tell me one thing every day. If that makes it easier."

"I don't understand…"

"Each day, you can tell me one thing about your life with the Dursley's. You don't have to work in chronological order, but you can if it helps get you through the story. Tell me something that happened, tell me something they said, tell me at what age you started doing a particular chore, tell me any bit of information that you'd like. Even something as simple as how each of them preferred their eggs in the morning." Severus explained, "Elaborate all you feel comfortable with. Start with smaller bits of information, and work up to telling me the things that cause you more anxiety."

Harry hesitated, and then rose to sit upright again, "Ok… That seems reasonable. What if I don't see you during the day? If we don't have a class and we are each busy in the evening?"

"Send me a note during your evening study time, then."

"My owl won't get to the dungeons."

"I will teach you a charm." Severus said, and went about doing just that. After a while, Harry was capable of casting the 'Parvi Mittere' charm, the ability to send small objects to another. They had practised by going into separate rooms, and eventually across the castle, sending pieces of parchment to copy the sending of notes. Harry had calmed down, and was no longer angry at Severus for asking questions, and agreed to the notion of one piece of information per day.

Later, Severus was waiting in his rooms for a parchment piece from Harry. It was their final practise before dinner, and Harry was sat in the Gryffindor common room, to make sure his charm could handle the distance.

A small piece of parchment appeared next to Severus, and floated onto the sofa. He picked it up, and was surprised to see writing on it. They had been sending blank notes until now, apart from Severus saying where Harry should move to next to try the charm.

I still have nightmares, not just about the Dursley's but about last year as well, and the night my parents died. I don't make much noise, according to Ron, and I don't like to wake people up afterwards.

Severus sighed, feeling even guiltier than before. He shouldn't have missed Harry's nightmares.

Thank you for telling me this. I can prescribe you some dreamless sleep potion; I will leave a vial on your bedside table. It is time for dinner; meet me in the Great Hall.

Severus stood, adjusted his robes and walked to the Great Hall. Harry was already there when he arrived, waiting outside for him. He smiled slightly as Severus approached, and entered the hall with his guardian following closely behind.

They had both, at this point, met Dolores Umbridge. Her sense of style was as it had been the past few days, since she had arrived at the castle. Despite it being summer, she wore a wool jacket and skirt combination. The worst past was the colour – so shocking a pink that it had almost blinded Professor Flitwick when he had raised his head to meet her eyes. She had worn a lighter pink outfit one day, but it was still monstrously coloured and co-ordinated.

Her high heels (the same shocking shade as her outfit) clipped and clopped on the floor as she turned that evening, smiled insincerely, and made her way over to them. Her arm always swung orderly by her sides, never relaxing from their straightened position. She stopped in front of them, and her voice was sickly sweet as she bid them good evening, "Severus it is –"

"Professor Snape," Severus cut in quickly, "If you please. I prefer to remain completely professional." This was the third time Severus had told her such, and his face was blank of emotion as he said it.

"Oh yes of course, silly me." Her giggle made Harry cringe from his place next to Severus, "Certainly, Professor Snape. I was just wondering if you would mind brewing me some pepper-up potion for the first weeks of school. I haven't been around children in a long time, and they are sure to give me headaches! Not that disobedience will be tolerated!"

"Any medicinal potions are handed to teachers and students alike by Madam Pomfrey." Professor Snape told her, and went to move closer to the table where food had started to appear.

"Yes but I would prefer a cleaner version."

Severus stopped, and turned on his heel to stare at Umbridge. The other teachers had turned around to watch at this point. Poppy, who had clearly heard Umbridge's request, looked marginally offended. Minerva was stood next to her, eyes narrowed and arms crossed.

"I do not understand what you mean by such a phrase." Severus retorted, holding back several degrees of anger, "Please report to Madam Pomfrey if you require pepper-up potion, Professor Umbridge. I do not brew privately for anyone but the headmaster."

With that, the potions professor stalked over to his seat, and Harry quickly followed. Poppy came and sat by Severus, and whispered something in his ear which he gave a sharp nod to in response. Dinner was a tense affair after that, and it became even worse when the new curriculum was brought up.

"I think it is a marvellous idea on the Minister's part." Umbridge was saying, as the others tried to drown her out with ridiculously large gulping noises and the intentional clatter of utensils on plates, "A theoretical learning, there isn't need for more! Previous instruction in the subject has been disturbingly… Uneven. Parents will be pleased to know that students will be following a carefully structured, ministry approved course of defensive magic!"

"Then what's the point of teaching defence at all?" Harry suddenly said, loudly, and the teacher's eyes bulged at him. Severus looked at Harry's steely gaze from the corner of his eye, but did not say anything. He did not take his eye off his ward, either.

"Excuse me?" Umbridge asked, her voice was sugary sweet but her eyes were frosty, "The new course promotes a risk-free environment, as is the minister's plan."

"If you aren't going to teach us how to defend ourselves properly, with defensive spells, what's the point in teaching us defence at all? If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk free." Harry argued.

"It is the view of the ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be sufficient to get students through their examinations, which is what school is all about!" Umbridge told him, her voice becoming higher pitched with every sentence.

"But how is theory meant to prepare us for what's out there?" Harry continued to argue.

By this time, each of the teachers was gripping their utensils but not for a second looking at their food. Flitwick and Sprout looked nervous. Dumbledore and Severus had no emotion on their faces. Minerva and Poppy each sported sly, somewhat proud smiles. All of them were looking at the angry, young Gryffindor boy at their table. Umbridge, however, was clearly outraged.

"There is nothing out there dear! Who do you imagine wants to hurt children like yourself?"

"Oh, I don't know, how about Lord Voldemort?" Harry said sarcastically.

Umbridge stared at him for a moment, then her chest compressed backwards slightly as she gasped and inhaled breath, just in shock. Her hand to her heart, she said, "My dear boy, I will ignore your tone because you are Professor Snape's ward and we are not in school session. I am not willing to discuss the lies of a certain dark wizard returning with you."

"It's not a lie, I saw him, I fought him!"

"Enough!" Umbridge screeched. She stood from her place at the table, her chair scraping across the room of the Great Hall, the teachers eyes now fixed on her and not Harry, "Enough. Professor Snape please let it be known to your ward that if this kind of nonsense is uttered in my classroom, I will assign a week's worth of detention. Dumbledore, a word in your office, now."

There was a second' silence, with Umbridge staring at Dumbledore, nostrils flaring.

Dumbledore picked up his glass of butterbear, raised it slightly and replied, "After dinner, Dolores, we wouldn't want to spoil dinner."

Umbridge looked wildly between the teachers, and then stormed out of the Great Hall. The teachers looked at each other, and then burst into laughter. Flitwick and Sprout, previously nervous, couldn't conceal their mirth.

"Well said, Harry." Minerva wiped tears from her eyes, while Poppy sniggered from behind a napkin.

"I couldn't help it. Did she think that Cedric just dropped dead of his own accord?" Harry wriggled down slightly in his seat, "I'll never pass her class now. I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, you shouldn't have." Severus' stern tone made Harry look up at his guardian in worry, but the hint of a smile that came after reassured him, "Well done."

Harry smiled widely, not being able to help himself, and raised his glass towards Dumbledore. The headmaster returned the gesture, with that slight twinkle in his eyes that let Harry know he had enjoyed the show. After that, they all enjoyed their last meal of the summer holidays together, without the company of Dolores Umbridge.

..

'Parvus' is Latin for 'small'

'Mittere' is Latin for 'to send'