Chapter 5

"Hey, Dad?" Jamie asked softly. He'd been living with the Potions Master for about a month and a half, it was now mid-December, the 17th to be exact, 4 days before they were let out for the holidays.

"Yes, Jamie?" he was closing the remaining buttons on his teaching robes.

"You have class now."

"I do."

"It's my class."

"It is."

"Can I go?"

He looked at the boy closely for a minute. "You will do exactly as I say." He waited for the boy to acknowledge the statement as truth before continuing. "If you're dizzy at all, I expect you to sit down immediately." He looked closer at the raven haired boy. He had grown about an inch, but had only gained a pound, keeping him at the near gaunt status he was at previously. He had kept up on his studies well, so there were no worries about him being behind or at least too far behind, but, since talking about different aspects of the abuse, he'd gotten really jumpy. He had chosen to forego Quidditch, temporarily, until spring, when he was healthy and it was warm. The boy had not seen any of his friends since the last time he went to class. Most days he was able to get through a day normally, but some days, the trembling that had escalated to constant violent shaking during their second week, presumably from the toxins his body released as they were replaced with the things he needed, would return at random intervals.

"I'm okay, Dad. Today has been a good day," he told his father. Though it has only just started, he thought bitterly.

"If anything at all feels like it's wrong, I want you to go into my office and lie down." The stubborn Gryffindor nodded. "I have to use your surname during class." The boy hesitated, and then nodded again. "Very well, put on your school robes. I will meet you in the living room when you are finished."

He smiled. "Thanks, Dad," he went back to his bedroom, quickly changing from the comfortable day clothes into his school uniform.

"Jamie, don't worry about grabbing any of your school things, you can use my own ingredients from the stores in the office. We're making a memory potion today, so you can take care of it how you normally would. And I expect you to let me check off before you begin putting things in the cauldron."

"Okay." He came out of the bedroom, clasping his robe closed.

"Let's go." They walked up to the floor above them. "Ready?"

When the child nodded, he banged the door open and Harry slipped in just before the professor, taking his place in line in the front of the room between Ron and Draco. "I expect total silence today. You will be working individually; the lowest grade is everyone's grade." He looked pointedly at Harry, checking to see if he was okay, and got a single nod in return. 'Goyle and Granger at the center table, Weasley and Crabbe on the left and Malfoy and Potter on the right." He saw his son shudder slightly at the tone in combination with his last name, but hid it from everyone else, apparently, as no one else even moved. He tapped the chalk board. "Instructions are on the board, Mr. Malfoy, please come to my office before you begin. Everyone else, get to work." He disappeared into his office.

Hermione threw her arms around Harry. She hated going this long without seeing him, though it was only 6 weeks.

Before she could speak, Harry whispered in her ear softly, "I'm doing good, 'Mione. Da…Professor Snape is taking really good care of me. Don't worry, okay?" He kissed her cheek lightly. "I can socialize more after the break. It's really just for my own health that I haven't been able to before. Tell Ron for me, yeah?"

She have him a quick squeeze before pulling back and nodding, knowing she would get in trouble if she spoke, letting him know she would do as he asked. They would have more chances to talk later. They went to their seats, Harry nodding to Ron with a soft smile, letting him know without verbal communication that he was okay.

Draco came out of the office a minute later carrying a cauldron full of ingredients and tools. "The professor said you would know what to do with these."

Harry nodded and climbed on the stool, as he began to empty the cauldron. As he put the cauldron on the stand over the flames, he looked up at the board, seeing if there were any ultra specific instructions. There weren't, so he began to prepare the ingredients, perfectly and quickly, as he had had a lot of practice in the last month and a half, leaving them up at the top of his desk in their own containers in the exact amount he would need for the potion. He ignored the glares from Crabbe and Goyle, worried looks from Hermione, confused glances from Ron, and Malfoy's disgusted sneer. His was the only cauldron still empty. Harry had worked with Snape enough, particularly on this potion, to know that the potion's simmering between the ingredients didn't matter. It was neither a benefit nor a detriment. What mattered was the number of stirs, the directions they were done in, the order and amount of ingredients, as well as the temperature it was bottled in.

He raised his hand, as per their agreement, as he finished the ingredients. Snape came over, glanced at the materials with an experienced eye and a swift nod, and then turned to the boy himself. He held out his right arm while looking at the man's eyes. He looked closely at the Gryffindor, checking him for the minor trembling, or the dilation of his eyes and slight fever that always seemed to hit about 30 minutes before he had a fit. "Take off your outer robe first, and then you may begin."

He took off his robes and dropped them over the back of the stool.

"I will be back in a few moments, the Headmaster wishes to speak with me. I expect it to remain silent, and I will know." He left the room.

"Ickle baby Potter can't even make a simple potion without being waited on hand and foot," Malfoy sneered softly.

"You have no idea what's going on, Draco, so drop it," Harry breathed, trying not to let the Slytherin get to him.

Draco kept muttering insults at the brunet, who ignored him completely. He was getting more and more frustrated with each passing moment. Out of anger at the lack of reaction, he picked up a random ingredient out of his bag and tossed it into Harry's cauldron, causing it to explode. Harry was thrown back about 5 feet, writhing as memories passed before his eyes. He was struggling to keep a hold of himself. "Dad!" he managed to scream after a moment.

The Floo flared in the potions master's office and Snape rushed out. He took quick notice of his students. "Mr. Malfoy, get to the Headmaster's office and remain there. Crabbe, Goyle, go back to your Common Room until lunch. Mr. Weasley, go get Madame Pomfrey. Ms. Granger, go get your head of House."

Ron finished moving the last few things, a table and two stools, away from Harry before taking off at a run. Hermione waited until Severus knelt next to her. She carefully transferred her hold on Harry's head to his hands, not wanting her best friend to give himself a concussion from the stone floor. Severus noticed that the emerald eyes were glazed as if lost in thought, or memory, as the girl ran out of the room. He carefully entered the boy's mind. He could feel his son's confusion as the memories flashed at the forefront of his mind: Harry being cursed by Quirrell multiple times throughout his first year, by Lockhart during second, the imposter Moody in 4th, repeatedly by Umbridge 5th. It explained so much. He pulled out as Harry blacked out. He quickly flicked his wand, jotting down the spells on the board. He scooped the boy into his arms and held him close to his chest. The 3 adults he had sent for entered nearly 10 minutes later. Harry's glamour charms had fallen, and his entire body was a mass of newly forming bruises. His only family had woken up momentarily, but, after reassuring himself that there was not a concussion nor any other head injury, he soothed the boy back to sleep, which was an easy feat as he lay in his father's arms.

"Severus, what's going on?" Minerva asked worriedly.

"Draco Malfoy threw something into Jamie's memory potion causing him to relieve memories that, as far as I can tell, were Obliviated. With the exception of 3rd year and this year, he has been regularly cursed or charmed, using the spells on the board. Their purpose was to stunt his growth and keep him as weak as possible. The effects are only noticeable if one thinks back to those times, seeing them all in a row. If you think back, he was small for his age when he started, about the size of a 9 year old, but now he is still only about the size of a 10 year old, maybe a small 11 year old. The amount he grew was during 3rd year. This year, he should have grown, but because of extenuating circumstances, he hasn't had the chance to grow this year either. Not to mention the curses that Umbridge put on him last year, some of which have lingered over, along with the other curses from the Death Eaters at the Ministry. I can make a potion to counter the effects, but it will take about a week. As bad as this situation is, it at least gives reason to why, though he has gained about an inch in height since moving in with me, he has barely gained a pound. I don't know what else the memory potion will do right now, and I won't until I know what the final ingredient is."

"Who cursed him?" Minerva asked tersely.

"Quirrell, young Tom Riddle's memory, Lockhart, Barty Crouch, Jr., and Umbridge all had their turns. The toad also used Unforgivables and a Blood Quill on him."

Poppy cast a quick diagnostic spell. "Other than the new bruising, which you can take care of, there are no new issues, though the ones from last week still stand."

"Thank you, Poppy," Dumbledore excused her. She left. "Shall we retire to my office?" he suggested. The pair nodded and they Flooed up to his office.

"What did you throw in?" Severus asked, barely resisting the urge to throttle the teen.

Draco jumped. He had never heard his head of House's voice so cold, particularly directed toward him. "A…a handful of scarab beetle bodies," he stuttered out quickly.

Snape threw up a privacy charm around them. "That would cause an aging memory potion. He will have regressed mentally, but will be back to his normal age by January, or, at the latest if my calculations are correct, February. I don't know how far he has regressed, if I had to make a guess, I would say 8 or 9, but I don't know how many stirs he had completed of the final potion before it exploded. If he has deaged farther than I have predicted, I will physically deage his body to grow with his mind." He removed the charm. "Mr. Malfoy, you will be serving detention every Saturday for the rest of the year with Mr. Filch, would you care to explain why you acted as you did?" He narrowed his eyes as his former mentor's son muttered something unintelligible. "Speak up!"

"He wasn't reacting to my insults!" he shouted angrily.

"You weren't supposed to be speaking at all. 20 points from Slytherin and you shall have detention with Professor McGonagall all this week, and, as soon as I say, you will have a month's worth of detention with me. Albus?" he turned to the Headmaster.

"Take the child somewhere he will feel safe," he instructed gently.

The snarky potions master nodded and Flooed back to his office. He pulled a deaging potion out of his cupboard as well as a memory modification potion, to help aid with the retention of the memories as new ones came back to the small child. He spelled them into his son's stomach once he was lying on the couch. He quickly transfigured the couch into a bed, just as the boy began to shrink.