The hand fell as if in slow motion, and at first Harry's shocked brain did not register the sting of pain. His Uncle stopped suddenly, staring at him curiously. It was as if he had thought for a brief second about the consequences of his actions. He had reached a crossroads; to disregard completely the warnings and risk threatening his own family's safety for the sack of revenge. His grip tightened and he drove his fist again and again into the boys face, splintering bone.
"VERNON! Stop!" His Aunt was suddenly there, dragging Vernon back. Like he was swatting a fly, a single swipe sent her flying back and into the wall.
Finally his anger was appeased, and Vernon stared down at the unmoving form of his nephew. He let him fall to the floor and turned to Petunia. She was sitting on the floor, holding her throat and gasping. Her husband's blow had hit her badly, and she was finding it hard to breathe.
"I'm going out," Vernon said gruffly, ignoring her. He sent a final kick at Harry before leaving.
He left, slamming the front door after him. His face showed no remorse, but inwardly there was turmoil. Never before had he laid a finger on his wife, but he had just been so angry, and she had gotten in the way.
With the house still vibrating from the slamming of the door, Dudley came out of hiding.
"Mum?" he whispered incredulously.
"Go…To Mrs. Figg's down the road. Tell her that Severus Snape…is needed…" Petunia gasped, shakily getting to her feet.
Harry was still motionless on the bed, but Petunia could not worry about him now. Her breathing was still irregular, and there was a lump forming at her throat.
"But Mum…" Dudley whined. He was scared. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before.
"Go…" Petunia gasped, giving him a little push. She followed him down the stairs, clutching the railings for support. She got an ice pack from the freezer and pressed it to her throat, anxiously awaiting the arrival of one Severus Snape.
A sudden banging at her door startled Mrs. Figg. When she opened it, she pursed her lips with displeasure before assembling her face into a polite mask. It was that dratted Dursley boy, but she could tell something was wrong straightaway.
"Mum says…Severus Snape…needs to come right away!" Dudley gasped, eyes wide.
"Severus Snape? Don't you mean Albus Dumbledore?" she asked, letting him inside.
"No, mum said Severus Snape. I know she did!" the boy insisted.
"Alright, come in and sit down then, while I call him," she said. The use of the word 'call' was for his benefit; the boy looked bad enough without him seeing her sit her head in the fire and talk. She left him in the lounge, and went into the bedroom.
"Severus Snape's summer house," she said clearly, before poking her head in. The room that materialized before her was spotless, if not sparsely furnished. A black haired man was bent over a piece of parchment, muttering furiously.
"Severus?" Arabella said uncertainly. The man was part of the 'old order' as Arabella thought of them, but she had never really liked him.
"Mrs. Figg? What's wrong? Is it Potter?" the man looked at her in surprise, dropping his quill.
"The Dursley boy is here. He says his mother sent him here, to fetch you," she said, backing up as Severus moved quickly to the fire.
"Well, let me through, woman!" she snarled harshly as she hurried to obey.
Without even dusting the soot off his robes, he marched into the lounge room, heading straight for Dudley.
"Well? What is it boy? What's happened?" he asked, but Dudley just shook his head in response. Obviously something had truly disturbed the boy, and Severus realized he would find out quicker if he just went to Dursley residence himself. The two weeks were almost over anyway; hang Dumbledore and his rules.
He almost ran down the empty street, for once not mindful of appearances. He pushed open the front door of number four, noting the eerie silence within. He found Petunia in the kitchen, still pressing the ice pack against her neck.
"He's upstairs, in the bedroom," she gasped out, pointing towards the stairs.
Severus took the stairs two at a time, praying it was not as bad as he feared. But the sight of Petunia had not allayed his fears in the slightest. The door to the nearest bedroom was ajar. Harry was laying face door on the bed, in a puddle of blood. Severus gently rolled him over, with a care and delicacy rarely displayed.
"Harry," he whispered, noting the flicker of eyelids in response.
He pulled the boy to his chest with ease, his immediate concern Harry's welfare.
As he walked past the kitchen, he heard Petunia's voice.
"It's not…Vernon's fault," she gasped plaintively.
"Believe what you will, Petunia, but your husband will pay for his actions this night,"
With that Severus turned on his heel and left the house, waiting until he was outside the wards limits to disapparate.
Lucius Malfoy was getting worried. When Dobby had returned from the Dursley residence babbling about getting Harry into trouble, he had been first angry at the repentant elf. When Dobby had started ironing his ears without Lucius even telling him to, Lucius became anxious. Obviously the situation was dire, and yet Severus could not be reached by Floo. It was as if he had vanished off the face of the earth right when he was needed most. Lucius was watching the clock; both he and Severus had agreed that should anything like the night's events occur, that Lucius would go to the Dursley home after one hour had passed. This was because the presence of a known Darklord supporter of Lucius' status would be questioned should anything untoward had occurred there. Dumbledore would be able to twist the facts to make Lucius seem like a criminal with great ease.
There was a familiar 'whoosh!' at the fireplace, and Severus stepped through. In his arms he was cradling Harry Potter.
"I need a bed, and access to your potions store immediately. And a quick notes quill and parchment," he gasped moving forward.
Lucius summoned elves immediately for the stationary, but choose the potions himself. Although nowhere near the skill level of Severus.
As he worked on Potter, Severus composed a letter aloud.
"Albus,
I have seen fit to remove Potter from his relatives' home slightly earlier than planned. No need to concern you with details, and I will be contacting you soon,
Severus Snape,"
The injuries healed under Severus' capable hands as Lucius stood alongside, ready to help. He handed option supplies over efficiently, until Severus finally stopped.
"He's sleeping now. Physically, I think he should be fine," he sighed.
He massaged his temples tiredly. The night was almost over, and he had yet to sleep.
"Here, take the bed in my room. It's just across the hall," Lucius said kindly. "I will watch over Harry for a few hours, and then wake you,"
Severus nodded, somehow managing to walk across the hall and fall into bed. Lucius watched the steady rise and fall of Harry's chest, an odd emotion filling his throat. What was it with this strange boy that thawed the long frozen hearts of former Deatheaters?