A/N – Here's the next chapter so lads. Loads of hits, but no review makes poor little me sad :( Pretty please review! Enjoy! ~silvermoonfae

Disclaimer – Disclaimer: I do not own anything remotely related to the fantastic world of J.K Rowling!

Oaths and Determination

"Expelliarmus"

Such primal magic was expended in that one first year spell, that Dursley actually shot into the opposite wall, almost through it actually, knocking him out cold for a second time. Dumbledore still stood stock still in the doorway, eyes widened in shock, staring at Harry, who looked more like minced meat than human at the moment.

"Dumbledore, now is not the time!" Snape hissed and rushed to Harry's side. Kneeling beside him, he gently brushed the boy's bangs from his eyes and was startled to see glowing green peeking from beneath dark lashes.

"P'rfessor?" he slurred painfully "Hogwarts?" he asked disjointedly.

"Hush Harry, it's OK. Yes straight to Hogwarts to get you seen to," he reassured trying to keep the panic from his voice as he simultaneously diagnosed Harry himself as he minor healing training as both healing and potions were closely related. Harry laughed weakly before sputtering.

"First time, - ever, - my name!" he gasped. Snape stared at him strangely, wondering if he had received a bang to his head. He marvelled that he could still laugh at such a minor thing in such a dire situation. Turning to Dumbledore, he had realised the old man still hadn't moved.

"Dumbledore, portkey now!" he snapped. "I need to stabilise him first. Go ahead and warn Poppy that we'll be arriving straight into the infirmary," Snape ordered. This shook Dumbledore into motion, emitting another small wheezy laugh from Harry, and fluidly he produced a portkey, shoving it into Snape's hands before rushing off to Poppy to warn her of the incoming patient. Snape turned back to Harry, who was watching the scene with interest through pain glazed eyes, a slight smile still evident on his face.

"Now Harry, I need to stabilise you. Your injuries are too serious and numerous to move you in this condition with awareness and yet you need immediate attention. I'd suggest a deep sleep spell, but if not we'll think of something else." Snape said gently, hoping the child would agree, for he planned to use the spell whether or not he did. He just needed it to seem like he was giving a choice.

"Whatever – think – best – perfessor – though – not too painful," Harry wheezed out. Snape turned his disbelieving eyes once again upon Harry, registering for the first time that he wasn't curled up in agony or crying out in pain. The only indication that there was any at all was his pain filled eyes. He was amazed at his pain tolerance. It must be incredibly high.

"Deep sleep it is. Be prepared, Somilus!" he said softly and Harry went limp on the bed.

HPHPHP

Voices . . .fragmented pieces of conversation . . .whispers . . .sadness . . .even a touch of anger . . .all this flitted in and out of Harry's consciousness. Everything was very heavy and painful, from the roots of his hair to the nails on his baby fingers. Everything hurt! He couldn't open his eyes, too heavy. He panicked! He didn't like complete darkness, oblivion, from a very young age. It was a horrid reminder of his dark cupboard, his prison. It was enough that it haunted his dreams never mind his consciousness, if he really was conscious. Well there was some sort of awareness anyhow. He tried to call for help. A small mewling noise reverberated through his head. Was that him? He whimpered again and began to toss and turn. Restraints! He became frantic. The disembodied voices became intense. Something brushed against him! And again! 'Leave me be' he screamed within the confines of his mind, but still something emerged from his mouth. A small and pathetic "No".

Then a silky voice wrapped him in a deep warmth, mellowing out the darkness so it seemed to be more of a very deep green than black. He relaxed instinctively. It issued soothing words of comfort, which were indistinguishable to his muddled mind, yet it calmed him. Then the soft voice pervaded clearly the dark green enveloping his mind "Hush child. You are safe! Home! Relax and sleep" it said. A small sigh of contentment left his lips with a relieved soft "Home," and with that he drifted off, with the reassurance of knowing he was safe. He was Home. At Last!

HPHPHP

Snape watched sadly as the child calmed with his soft words and drifted off again. The child was still badly hurt. Mme. Pomphrey couldn't heal everything up front, as it would take too much from his small already weakened body. He was therefore, still a sight to see and must still be in an inordinate amount of pain.

Merlin above, how long had he suffered at the hands of his relations? Why didn't anyone see this? Why didn't I see this? Was I truly that blinded by my hate of James Potter, completely forgetting that Harry was not him? Far from it! He felt himself well up with guilt. Even after his promise to Lily to keep her child safe, he had failed! With a sigh he got up from Harry's bedside, from where he had knelt, and faced both Mme. Pomphrey and Dumbledore who had both fallen silent at this time. Mme. Pomphrey still had tears sparkling in her eyes, red rimmed and raw from crying so much after the state she had found the poor child brought to her. Dumbledore was ashen with sadness etched deeply into every line on his face, particularly after Harry's reaction to his touch. A simple touch which evoked such a violent reaction!

With a sigh Dumbledore closed his eyes wearily and thought of all that had happened within the last few days. The discoveries they had made and the trauma, young Harry had been subjected to. The trauma he had been subjected to by himself, Dumbledore, as it was his decision to ignore the Potter's will and send their soon to his closest living relatives, the Dursleys. Guilt settled heavily upon his weary shoulders. He should of checked on him throughout the years, such a small oversight had such far reaching and almost fatal consequences. Now, however, he could see how relaxed Harry had become under Severus' calming presence when he had panicked. Maybe this will do them both the world of good. But it should NEVER had been through such dire circumstances as these.

Madame Pomphrey was soundly berating herself for such an oversight herself. She had been his nurse for 5 years now and she had never suspected abuse, not even to a minor degree. Particularly after the amount of time he spent in the hospital wing throughout the school year. How had he hidden it? How had he deceived them all to such a degree? It was just impossible, and yet he had done it. Like the other two the guilt had set in.

A heavy silence pervaded the hospital wing, leaving them all lost within their thoughts, only the raspy breath of Harry's breathing breaking it. Finally Dumbledore spoke after what seemed like an age, "Well, it seems I have done Harry a great injustice. I should never had placed him there. I should of listened to Minerva." he finished off in a whisper, a lone tear escaping, and trickling down his lined face.

Snape sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose in distress and weariness. "Albus, we are all at fault here to some degree. Not just you. We are the adults here, we all have had some sort of contact with him for 5 years now. Merlin everyone knows he practically lives in the hospital wing, and Merlin only knows how many abused children I have dealt with during my own tenure here. With the foolish Gryffindor Golden Boy façade, for that's what it is, I see now, no one, teachers or student alike suspected. I doubt even his closest friends knew. Yet we should have seen, Hindsight is precious, and only now, looking back do I see hints of the abused child, not the Golden Boy.

Madame Pomphrey sniffled and dabbed her eyes dry. "He's right Albus. All us teachers and me a nurse, should have caught on. But we were all disillusioned by the strength of character that he has shown us time and time again. I'm beginning to wonder if Severus is right and it is all just some illusion to keep us out of the know."

Dumbledore seemed strengthened by the show of solidarity by those two people, willing to share the blame. Though he knew deep down it was still the majority the blame that he should receive. "We must help him. We should of seen, but we didn't. Poppy what's his situation?" Dumbledore said sharply, pulling himself together, showing them the leader of the light as they knew him.

"The list is so long I wouldn't know where to begin. Suffice it know that he still has the majority of the bruises he has received in their care, a few broken ribs, a concussion and various cuts still to heal but he is miles better than he was." She paused, seeing the horror in Dumbledore's eyes at this was much better than he was before. In his eyes he was far from better at all! She continued though explaining that reasoning. "I have already done more healing on him than I should have on any normal wizard or witch his age. But either choice I had still had a 50/50 chance of him dying. This was the best course and he is strong. He will survive and he is doing much better physically. Emotionally? Merlin above only knows how damaged he will be. But I have no doubt of some mental scars anyway." Then she seemed to crumple in upon herself, her report stature completely disappearing as she finished, and the sadness and hint of guilt reappearing again a she lay her soft gaze upon Harry.

"Very well, I have things to organise for our young charge, but I shall be back to see him and expect hourly reports. He is NEVER going back there," he intoned, steel flashing in his ice cold blue eyes and with a whirl and billow of robes that would have done Snape proud he stalked out with purpose lining every step he took. He would not fail the boy again.

Madame Pomphrey flitted about mumbling about this and that and what would be needed for Harry's recovery, eventually turning to her office, anger still evident in her step, before shutting the door quietly, leaving Snape alone with the child.

Somehow he felt awkward, though no one was there to see him. He contemplated returning to his dungeons, but with a weary sigh, he just settled into the chair by Po- no- Harry's bedside. He stared distantly at the child, noticing each raspy breath, his battered face, dark circles beneath his eyes and his malnourished frame. 'Oh Lily. If only you could see what we have done. You'd probably curse us all the way to hell and back again!'

Wallowing in his guilt for a while, he lifted his head from his hands, determination glinting within the depths of his obsidian gaze. "I shall not fail the child again. I shall help him whether he desires it so or not." he whispered forcefully and sincerely. "I know he will," and even quieter, "For I know I did." The pact was so sincere, that he unintentionally brought his magic into play, sealing the oath. He closed his eyes in remembered pain and when he opened them he was amazed to see the swirl of magic around him, before realising the impact the oath he had made had. Looking at Harry, his gaze softened every so slightly to be almost indiscernible. Suddenly he noticed the emerald eyes peeking from beneath dark lashes, a slight hopeful smile curling his lips. Startled he paled slightly. 'Uh oh!' he thought uncharacteristically. He had been caught . . . been caught being nice. He shuddered at the knowing look in Harry's slightly pain-filled gaze. 'Uh oh!' he once again thought before the muggle phrase floated across his mind 'Busted!' . . .

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