Warnings: Abusive!Dursleys, noncon!, manipulative!Dumbledore, smart!Harry

In the wizarding world, rape was extraordinarily dangerous, both for the victim and the perpetrator. Thus, it was an incredibly rare occurrence. A witch or wizard who was abused in such a manner would either temporarily gain an extreme amount of power and then find him or herself less powerful than they were before or they would temporarily lose almost all magical power and then later find themselves much more powerful than they were previously. This was because the trauma wreaked havoc with a person's access to their magical core. The average witch or wizard could access only about forty percent of their core, but the extreme trauma of sexual assault could potentially double a person's access. Of course, that increase was paid for with a price. If the channels opened immediately following the assault, then it could only be sustained for a few hours before the channels would shrink even smaller than they were before, leaving the victim's magical abilities far weaker than they originally were. But if the opposite occurred, the trauma would close the channels almost completely for up to 24 hours as the person's magic slowly built up behind the restricted channels and then eventually forced them open, causing them to be permanently ripped wider. The sudden increase of power would often cause extreme outbursts of accidental magic and could knock the victim unconscious or even kill them from magical overload. Anyone in the vicinity of a recent sexual abuse victim was also in danger of being seriously hurt or killed, regardless of which reaction the victim had. Thus, even Voldemort and his followers refrained from sexual abusing their victims.

Before leaving the room, Marge ordered the boy back into his discarded boxers before binding his wrists tightly to the bedposts, leaving him on the floor by the foot of the bed with his arms wrenched awkwardly behind him. Harry's eyes were dry and his expression blank. He didn't seem to notice as she left the room and headed down the stairs.

Despite his outward appearance, Harry's mind was in turmoil. I let her do it...Merlin, I asked her to do it! She was right, I'm nothing but a dirty whore. Useless. I can't even protect the people I care about... His thoughts raced in circles and he attempted to clear his mind in vain. After several interminable minutes, his unseeing gaze landed on the boy still bound in the corner of the room and he was able to focus. Ly...I have to get him out of here. It's all my fault...He struggled uselessly against the bindings on his wrists, but only succeeded in rubbing them raw. Okay, then I'll just have to use magic. He attempted to focus his magic on the bindings, but when he reached inside of him for the familiar thrum of his magic, he felt nothing. No! She can't have taken that away, too! Not again! Dear God, please no...And upon finding himself once again powerless, his calm facade vanished and he broke down sobbing.

***************

By the time Severus finally felt consciousness surfacing, he remembered everything, including Voldemort's plan and the events of the past few days. Despite his adoring "Lysander memories" of the older teenager who had taken care of him when he was injured and scared, Severus raged against the Brat-Who-Lived and he resolved to make him pay. For Merlin's sake, he rationalized as his mind continued to swim toward consciousness, the selfish brat hardly fed me! And he kept me in a garden shed! Anyone with any sense of propriety would have offered me a guest room!

But to his dismay, when he finally opened his eyes, it was to a scene that would be forever burned into his memory. There on the floor sat Potter, his head buried in his knees, arms twisted behind him and bound to the bed, naked except for a pair of ratty gray boxers and thin enough that the slightest gust of wind would knock him down. He was sobbing.

For a few long moments, Severus could do nothing but stare. He had never imagined that he would see the cheeky, insolent, rule-breaking Gryffindor Golden Boy like this. Then he could no longer hold back his astonishment and confusion.

"What in Merlin's name did you do to yourself this time, Potter?!" he demanded, more out of anger over his confusion than any expectation of a response.

Harry froze before slowly lifting his tear-stained face to the other inhabitant of the room. There was a flash of some unreadable emotion in his eyes before his expression blanked more thoroughly than Severus would have thought possible.

"You remembered who you are," he stated, his tone flat and slightly hoarse.

"Yes," came the curt reply.

"Are you alright?"

"What do you think, you ignorant child?! I'm stuck here with you under orders to dismantle the wards around your house within 48 hours so that the Dark Lord can finally finish you off, I won't be restored to myself for another 12 hours, I have to come up with some sort of plan to get you out of here without incriminating myself or giving the Dark Lord cause to dispose of me, and I have to deal with whatever petty angst is bothering you so damn much! So no, I am not 'alright'!"

Again, that emotionless voice that seemed so out of place on the boy he had never known to be without feeling. "I apologize for the inconvenience, Professor."

At that pronouncement, Severus paused. Perhaps not as ignorant as I thought, was the first thing that came to his mind. After all, he's already figured out who I am. He shook his head, as if to clear his mind of complimentary thoughts of his former rival's son.

Then he looked down at the bindings on his own hands and feet. Closing his eyes and concentrating, he reached for the spark of his own magic and formed it into a blade in his mind. Then he used the sharp edge to cut through the ropes one by one. When he was finished, he allowed to the magic to snap back to its original position and opened his eyes. He massaged his wrists and ankles quickly but effectively before standing and walking toward the teen, who was watching quietly. He paused when he noticed Potter shrinking in on himself and shaking ever so slightly. Apparently I can still be terrifying even when in a seven-year-old's body. Interesting.

"Do you know where there might be a knife or a pair of scissors, boy?" he asked sharply.

There was a barely perceptible flinch. "In the drawer of the bedside table," came the response.

Severus turned swiftly away from the boy and rummaged through the drawer until he found a pair of scissors. He then returned to the teen and carefully cut through the tight bindings on his wrists, wincing when he saw the red burn marks from where Potter had struggled against them.

"There. Up, now, Potter! And get some clothes on, for heaven's sake! I would rather not have to look at you half-naked."

Harry attempted to stand up, but ended up on his hands and knees, bringing his much-abused body into Severus' view. The Potions Master's eyes locked onto the four bright red whip marks edged with dried blood criss-crossing his back and he inhaled sharply as a partial memory surfaced.

***************

"...five lashes..."

He tensed himself for another blow as he belatedly processed another crack of the whip, but—

"No!"

And there was the sound of whip hitting flesh, but somehow, it wasn't his flesh. What in the world?!

"...no problem...both of you..."

Crack!

"I'm so sorry..."

"Please...let me take you."

***************

Severus had the sudden urge to be sick as his eyes lit upon the word burned deep into the skin of the back of the "Savior" of the wizarding world and he realized what the conversation had actually meant.

"What the hell did you do, Potter?!" he spat furiously.

"I...I just...look, it's not important, alright?" Harry stumbled backwards, fear flickering across his face.

But this action revealed more of the teen's scarred and bruised torso to the now livid professor. Severus felt his control slipping as his magic swirled around the room, making him appear larger than anyone would have believed possible for a seven-year old body.

"Not important?! Do you have any idea what your life is worth?! And you would go risking it over some stupid little boy who you met a measly two weeks ago!"

"Professor, I..."

"Merlin, you imbecile, look at yourself! When Dumbledore finds out about this, he'll--"

A sudden flash of something akin to alarm crossed Harry's face. "Dumbledore?" he choked out. "But you...that is he...he's not dead?"

Severus paused. "No, he's not," he replied.