Chapter 12
Harry was taken from them the next day. The Ministry officials removed the body and the man who actually had to take him felt his heart break. He had taken the dead before and relatives had cried but the wails that came from Severus Snape as his son was taken were inhuman. Because he had read the papers, he knew that Severus had never gotten to know his son. He also knew that the man had not expected to survive, he had thought it was him who was going to die, not his son.
That week past and Severus had no idea of what was going on around him, he was always in either a drunken stupor or just sat there with memories of Harry going through his mind. He still didn't have the guts to look in the pensive because Harry had such a forgiving heart yet could not forgive him for trying to protect him as a child.
He had never expected to hear the words 'I love you' from his son's lips and he could not help but for a smile to stretch his face with the memory. His son was proud of him. The pride was well earned but it was there. It was not something a normal son would be proud of was it?
Before he knew it Narcissa was putting a shirt on him and was helping him into his black clothes, the best ones he owned, readying him for the funeral of his son, which he didn't want to attend. If he did, it would be final. No more pretending that he was The Boy Who Lived and would survive anything. No more pretending that he would turn up for class or bang his way into the great hall, walking proudly to the Gryffindor table to join his friends.
He knew he would have to look at the memories eventually, so with a sigh he enlarged the pensive before pressing his finger in to it. Severus was forced to watch the most gruelling sight of his entire life, which was saying something because as a Death Eater and he had seen many things and even had to take part in some of them.
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Three-year-old Harry Potter was begging and crying to be left alone, to be let go as his uncle dragged him into the kitchen of number four Privet Drive. His clothes were too big for him and were falling off his body. That body was an example of his treatment; there were bruises and marks all over. Severus choked back a sob, his son was covered in bruises and cuts and he could do nothing. He didn't want to think that the Dursleys were the ones hurting him, Dumbledore said he was treated fine and if Dumbledore said that then that must be true.
He watched in horror as his son's uncle dropped him near the cooker, and his aunt forced him to try and cook breakfast, but he could not. The toast ended up burnt, the scrambled eggs had shells in making them inedible and the bacon was unrecognisable.
All the while his aunt was screaming at him. "You stupid good for nothing boy! You can't do anything right. You're just a freak like your good for nothing father and mother. We take you in and this is how you repay us," screeched Petunia, her face red with a satisfied glint in her eye. A frilly apron covered her disgusting pink top and trousers.
Harry stood there crying, grease was flying in to the boy's face and eyes hurting him all the more. Petunia finally had enough of Harry's crying so she dumped the grease on the three year olds arms making Harry scream. How it hurt. He wanted it to stop.
"Please make it stop. Please. I will be a good boy. I will cook properly. Please make it stop," begged the three year old.
His aunt dragged him out from behind the counter and outside, not caring when Harry banged his face on all the furniture. She tugged on his arm viciously making him bump his head on the table and cry out more. Chucking him out of the door, she took the hose and began to spray Harry with the cold water with a nasty sneer on her face. As Harry began cooling, his arms were no longer burning so fiercely but they were blistery and red and the rest of him was freezing cold. With his arms still throbbing, he put his burnt skin against his wet clothes trying to stop the heat hurting him, wishing the whole time that it would stop.
Severus had tried to help his son, tried to get him away from her, but these were only insubstantial memories and he could not change anything. He watched as his son was burnt before being left outside all day and night. Shivering and cold the three year old sat there, begging through the night to be let in, that he would be a good boy. Severus' heart broke as he watched it. What had he left his son to? What had he done? That was all Severus could think before he sank to his knees and said out loud the one realisation he had come to "No wonder Harry won't forgive me, after what I condemned him to," and tears streamed down his face.
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That was far from the end. He watched, as things got worse for his son as he got older, much, much worse.
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Four-year-old Harry was sitting pulling the weeds when his cousin and friends came flying around the corner. They kicked and punched him. Severus expected his Aunt Marge to stop them but to his horror she laughed along with Petunia. The boys got bored when Harry would not cry out and they left him beaten and bruised.
The little four year old was watching the family eating dinner and laughing as if he didn't exist, tears entered the little boy's eyes. He didn't understand why he was not loved, but he began believing his aunt's cruel words. Severus heard his son say something that made his heart clench before Harry began doing his gardening.
"I don't deserve to be loved. I'm a freak and freaks deserve punishment. Even my parents didn't love me," said Harry. That didn't stop him from looking at the others with envy shining through his green eyes. Severus felt like crying, his son was supposed to have been loved. Dumbledore had told him that he would be looked after. The man had lied to his face and condemned his son to hell. One thing was for sure Severus thought, I will never listen to him again.
As the memory ended he said out loud "I wish I had checked up on him myself. No wonder he wouldn't forgive me. I chose to believe Dumbledore and never though of checking myself." He was filled with self-disgust.
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It became more brutal.
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Severus ended up in a room; it was the master bedroom and the biggest room in the house. Wondering why he was here he looked around and saw his son huddled in a corner looking if it were possible much worse. Welt and belt marks criss-crossed his son's chest and back and the only part of him which was untouched were his hands. Looking up he saw Vernon with a belt in his hands. That would explain his son's fearful looks. The house was empty and the room curtains were shut. Vernon had a sick glint in his eye; he truly was enjoying himself with his twisted games.
"Boy," roared Vernon.
"Yes Sir," answered Harry his voice hoarse. From his cowered position he looked like a servant in fact lower than one, he was completely submissive.
"Do you want to be good?" questioned Vernon a smirk twisting his disgusting mouth.
"Yes I will be good, I promise," said Harry looking fearfully at the belt.
"You don't want hit with this do you boy?" asked Vernon. Harry's eyes widened.
"No uncle Vernon" said Harry who was by now shaking; he didn't like this at all he just wanted to go back in his cupboard where he was safe.
"If you don't want this come here," said Vernon sitting on a chair. Harry went right over to Vernon wanting to be a good boy.
"Good boy" praised Vernon. Harry liked it when he was good. It meant no punishment. Vernon opened his trousers and pulled them down. "Suck on it then" he said.
Harry swallowed fearfully looking between the belt and his uncle. Severus wanted to turn away, begging, "No, no, no please no. Don't tell me I left my son with a pervert." He could not look as his son began to suck like he was told. But he had to listen to the grunting and groaning of Harry's uncle who was occasionally telling Harry he was a good boy and he would teach him why soon. Severus' eyes widened at that, he felt sick so sick. He now didn't want his son to forgive him for what he had done. He had left his son in the hands of a perverted child abuser and molester, a monster.
"Good boy. Now do your chores then I might let you have some food," said Vernon who was pulling his trousers back on.
"Yes uncle Vernon," said the dead voice of his son.
"Good" said Vernon before he descended the stairs.
Severus watched as his son puked up what he had been forced to swallow. Tears coursing down his face he rocked backwards and fourth begging for someone. "Please someone help me, anyone. I don't want this any more please save me. Please, please, please. I will be good, please get me out of here," said a pitiful Harry as the memory finished.
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Severus wished the memories would finish soon. He had been through another year's worth of torment and he didn't know how to get out of the damn thing. It was an old fashioned pensive with no way of leaving before the memories had all played out. With a sigh he watched yet another year of his son's life go by, all the while tears poured down his face. They never stopped, the dam holding the tears at bay had broken and the tears just kept coming.
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He fell into another memory. Harry looked much older, eight years old perhaps. He saw his son in the bathroom cleaning his body, which was covered with scars, when his uncle came in. Harry hurriedly started to get out of the bath but before he could his uncle slapped him for taking too long. In one swift move Vernon was on top of the still quite small child. He told Harry to stay still which he did so, wanting the punishments to be as painless as possible. His uncle spread his legs. Harry tried to close them but before he could his uncle brutally stuck his fingers in. Severus had to watch his son screaming and attempting to pull away but it was futile, his uncle was too heavy. Taking his trousers and boxers off, it was obvious that he was very excited. Severus felt sick and faint. He wanted to escape the horrors but he couldn't. Vernon took his fingers out, putting towels under Harry's bum before he forced his way in. Harry's screams were muffled as his uncle filled his mouth with dirty clothes. It hurt even more when his uncle began moving, muttering words that Harry in his agonised state had trouble understanding. He did catch "so tight".
Harry began bleeding badly but the towel beneath him absorbed the blood. Mercifully Harry soon passed out. Vernon pulled out after he came and stopped the bleeding by shoving a towel in. He dressed himself and then Harry before he stuffed him back into his cupboard. Vernon, looking more relaxed than he had previously took the blood soaked towels with him and threw them in the bin.
Severus was sick again. He tried to grab Vernon but of course his hands slid through him.
As he watched, the years went by. Harry became accustomed to his uncle doing such vile things to him. Sometimes his uncle brought other men to him as he wanked himself while watching them take his nephew.
He watched everything that happened at Hogwarts. He saw the memory of Dumbledore lying to his son about the prophecy. Watched his son being sent on a goose chase, becoming aware of the truth on that fateful day in his fifth year when he had overheard the conversation in Diagon Alley.
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Finally he was able to leave the pensive. He rushed to the bathroom and threw up all the potions he had taken as well as the alcohol. He was still retching as the acid burned his mouth. Only now after seeing what his son had suffered did he understand.
He left the Hogwarts grounds before apparating to number four Privet Drive and banging on the door. He smirked at their terrified faces. Before the Dursleys could get anywhere near the exits, Severus cast the "Crucio" on Vernon. The show was far from over. He lifted the curse then said "Crucio" again, knowing when to take it off for maximum effect, as he had been a Death Eater. Alternately he used the curse and then lifted it before leaving the man panting on the floor. He then made both parents watch as he beat their son with his fist and hands, the boy was crying within minutes and begging him to stop. He then whispered words in Latin and whip marks appeared on Dudley's back. Dudley screamed again and again, he wanted to the pain to stop. Then Severus got a belt from Vernon's trousers before striking him repeatedly on his stomach and back. He used Crucio on the boy until he was insane before killing him by stabbing him through the stomach.
Then he started on Petunia doing everything he could, including what she had done to Harry. He banged her on the surfaces before pouring boiling hot grease over her body; her screams were music to his ears. She deserved it for what she done to his son. She was burning; blisters appeared everywhere before he took her outside and did what she had done to Harry. He magiked the water colder than it would have been for Harry and not until she begged did he stop. Then he left her, making her think it was night time and feeling a dementor was closing in on her.
He did the same to Vernon then brought all three of them inside; He cleaned the magic from the home and removed any trace of his magical signature, thankful that he had been taught how to do so as a Death eater.
He used the rest of the cooking oil to set the house on fire, locking the doors so they could not get out. He placed the gas bottle from the barbeque in the middle of the sitting room and left.
His only regret was that he had not been able to avenge himself on that woman Marge and kill her like the rest of them. He had a feeling Harry was up there, watching him get revenge on his behalf, gleefully wrapped up in Lily's arms and shielded from the world like a two year old.
With a 'pop' he left Privet Drive still feeling like his heart had been taken from him. He deserved to be killed just like them; he was the one who had left Harry there after all. How he wished he could take all that back right now and start again. He knew that by the time he had got out of Azkaban and was able to get custody of Harry, he would have been three or four years old. He wished with all his might that he could go back in time. He never saw the shooting star that flew over his head.