You Can Live: Chapter 20

Alright, so, I have put a poll up on my profile for you to choose which White Collar plot I will do next. If you like that fandom or read my WC stories, please check it out.

Ok, so if you haven't noticed, I have bumped up the rating on this from T to M. This is because, if you haven't guessed already, what happened to Harry every year on his birthday was terrible, and horrible, and evil...and sexual in nature. That being said, because the aftereffects of this, and most probably flashbacks (ABSOLUTELY NOTHING GRAPHIC) will be dealt with on that subject, I wanted to raise to rating. So, warnings definitely apply, especially if you have gone through something similar. I will treat this with the utmost respect and there is no offense meant to anyone who has gone through or knows someone who has one of the most evil forms of abuse.

This might make the story seem a bit dark, but I will through in some sunshine and rainbows to give you all, and myself, a break every so often. :)

No slash here, only guardian/ward psuedo-parent/child relationship and friendships.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, except for the plot. I would be able to afford school if that were the case.

Warnings: SEE CHAPTER 1 FOR WARNINGS AND OTHER IMPORTANT NOTES!

The Symptoms Suggest...

Severus had shrunk what he had bought and slipped it into the pocket of his Muggle trousers. He kept a firm hold of Harry the entire walk back to the house. He would have just found the nearest secluded area and apparated them away, but with how badly Harry was shaking, he knew that wouldn't be a good idea. However, they still made it to the house in record time, walking as swiftly as they had. As soon as they were through the doors, Snippy popped up to them, her cheery smile immediately falling when she saw the state they were in.

"What is wrong with Master Harry!? Does Snippy need to floo Healer Malfoy?" Severus steered Harry towards the couch in the living room, and shook his head.

"No, Snippy. But make Harry some tea to calm him. I think he's going into shock." Snape grabbed a blanket that had been laying across the back of the couch and wrapped it around Harry's shoulders. Snippy snapped away and came back momentarily with the tea. Another idea came to her, and she popped away again, only to return with Albus this time, who fluttered indignantly at being magicked down the stairs. The owl calmed though, and swooped down to his wizard, seeing him in distress. Albus hooted at Harry, and the boy absently lifted a hand to stroke his feathers. Snape pulled a chair up to the couch and leaned close to Harry.

"Harry, what happened? Are you alright?" The young wizard didn't respond, and Snape lifted the glamour on his neck. The boy barely reacted to the shift in magic. Severus was starting to think he might have to summon his godson. Snape decided to take a chance and laid a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Harry?" The boy tensed under the touch at first, but then relaxed at Snape's voice. Severus kept his hand there, and, slowly, Harry started to calm. The tremors eventually stopped under the potion master's hand, and Harry looked up at him, the glazed look in his eyes almost completely gone.

"I-I'm sorry, Sir." Snape shook his head, however.

"It's alright, Harry. Did you have a flashback? Did…something scare you?" He knew how embarrassed Harry had been after his last major panic attack, and that he didn't like to talk about it. But Severus had to know. Harry stared at the wall ahead of him, and his hand continued to pet Albus, the motion, however subconscious, soothing him a great deal.

"I-I don't know. I saw someone, and I just…I think I know him…but I can't-" Harry pressed his free hand to his forehead, ironically over his scar, and his fingers tugged on whatever fringe of his hair he could get a hold of. Suddenly, Harry straightened and he lost all color in his face. "I-I'm going to be sick." Snape immediately summoned a bucket and thrust it under Harry's face just as he buckled over and retched violently into it. The boy's whole body shook as he emptied the contents of his stomach. When he was done, he lifted his head, hair now plastered to his forehead with sweat, and blinked at the potions master. His glasses hung askew, but he straightened them with a shaky hand. Color was coming back to his cheeks a bit, which Severus took as a good sign.

"Sssir? Can, can I please sleep? I," his breath hitched, "I'm really tired." Harry wasn't sure why, but he suddenly felt like crying, a lot, and like hell he was going to let that happen in front of Snape. His guardian nodded, and gently got him to his feet. Snippy took the bucket and popped away with it, to empty and clean it, before placing it in Harry's room. Severus had to put an arm around the boy's shoulders, because he seemed to be having trouble walking in a straight line. The older wizard assumed it was because of all of the stress and exhaustion.

They eventually made it up the stairs, which were quite the challenge, and into Harry's room. Albus had beat them there and was perched at the end of Harry's bed. Snape took the blanket from around the boy's shoulders, and simply transfigured his clothes into something more suitable for sleeping in. He didn't have much trouble getting Harry settled under his covers. Once that was done, he straightened.

"I'm going to run down to my lab and bring you a calming draught and nausea potion. I will be right back." Harry barely nodded, and then Snape was gone. He hurried down to the lab and grabbed the correct vials, before returning to Harry's room. When he returned, however, Harry was already asleep. Snape couldn't really be surprised, but now that the young man was asleep, perhaps he would wait on the potions, see how his ward was when he woke up. So, he set the vials aside onto the nightstand and grabbed a book from the library, before settling back into what was quickly becoming a favored spot by Harry's bedside. He shrewdly left enough space between himself and the bucket, however, should Harry awaken and lean over the side. He found that he could not focus on his reading, and instead his mind kept wandering to what possibly could have spooked Harry so badly. Severus refused to use Legilimency on the boy, no longer bitter enough to invade a young man's privacy just because he could. The potion's master looked his ward over once more, then remembered what he wanted to check earlier. He set his book aside and reached out and began to unwind the wrappings from Harry's neck.

Severus wanted to make sure Harry hadn't hurt himself and that was why he was so shaken up. Once the gauze was gone, however, he saw no new bruising or scratches. He ran his hand lightly over the boy's neck just to be sure, and was shocked at the reaction he got. Though Harry was unconscious, he cringed away from the touch on his neck and curled in on himself even further. A very quiet whimper came from the sleeping boy, and Snape could only sit there, frozen. Harry had never acted like that before. At least, not around him. What could possibly have- something clicked in Snape's mind then, and he was thrown back to that night a year ago, when he had cornered the young Saviour in his quarters and he had been shown the true Harry Potter, bruised and battered. His mind's eye immediately zoomed in on the bruises he remembered curling around Harry's hips and down past his waistband. He hadn't asked, hadn't pushed. But maybe…he should have?

Well, he certainly couldn't push the boy now. At least not for a few days. Let him calm down. Severus refused to take advantage of the boy's fragile state to glean information out of him. He wasn't a spy or a Death Eater any longer. As carefully as he could, Snape re-bound Harry's neck and settled once more.

Harry didn't have a nightmare until a good forty minutes in to his nap. He started whimpering and curling further into himself, if that was even possible. He ground his teeth, and as Severus leaned forward to wake him up, he suddenly rolled over. Then, it seemed, Severus didn't have to worry about waking Harry up, because as soon as the back of his head hit the pillow, his ward shot straight up, hissing in pain, then proceeded to almost fall out of bed.

"Harry, what-"

"Sick." Snape moved just in time, as Harry emptied his stomach for the second time that morning. Unfortunately, he didn't get it in the bucket. Harry groaned.

"Sssorry, I'll cleeeen it up." Severus shook his head, and simply vanished the mess as he would any of his first year's failed potion attempts. That meant he was quite adept at the spell. Harry didn't seem to notice, however, and started to get out of bed.

"No, Mr. Potter. Stay in bed." Harry stood shakily and brushed off Severus's hands.

"No! Gotta clean it, 'fore, Uncle Vern'n gets..back." The potion's master was very confused and very concerned now, as he watched the young wizard stumble across the room. He could hear him muttering things under his breath. "Bad, bad, b-bad. No, no. Nooo magic. Won't beee angry. I-I'll clean it. I'm sssorry." Snape followed his ward out of the room, keeping a close eye on him as the boy wandered. Was he…sleep walking? He was extremely wary in this situation, but he quickly got over that, when Harry slipped and fell down the last four steps on the stairs. Snape heard more than saw Snippy popping in next to him, as he crouched in front of Harry.

"Is Master Harry alright?" Snippy was very distressed, but Severus really didn't have an answer for her. Harry didn't say anything, just sat at the bottom of the steps, staring past them at nothing.

"Harry, are you alright? Are you awake?" He reached out a hand, but Harry smacked it away.

"Don't touch me!" Severus was taken aback at the anger in Harry's voice, and the rattling of the few generic pictures on the walls. Harry's magic was acting out as well. His ward had never spoken to him like that since after the war and only had magical outbursts when caught in a severe flashback or nightmare. Something was very wrong. Severus looked at Harry a bit closer, and saw something. Without hesitation, he gripped Harry's chin and forced him to look him in the eye. Harry clawed at his hand, and tears suddenly sprang to his eyes.

"I'm s-sorry. Sssorry. No, no." Severus cursed himself when he saw that one of Harry's pupils was larger than the other.

"Harry, I'm not going to hurt you. You're fine. Snippy, call Draco." Severus sighed. His godson was going to kill him, then Harry. "Come here, Mr. Potter. Why don't we go sit on the couch at least, instead of the floor." Harry didn't respond, but allowed himself to be slowly guided into the living room. The young man was shaking, so Severus laid a blanket on his shoulders.

"I'm cold," he said. Snape nodded.

"I understand, Harry." Harry's eyes wandered around the room, never really focusing on one spot.

"I'm cold," he repeated, though Severus wasn't sure if that was because he still was or he didn't remember that he had already said it. Luckily, he didn't have to figure that out. The fireplace in front of them suddenly flared to life and the first thing Severus heard was a huff of frustration followed by a sigh.

"I'm going to start charging you, Severus. And then I'm going to cast a permanent bubble charm around our resident saviour. This is truly getting ridiculous." Snape couldn't agree more, but kept his mouth shut about it. Draco saw Harry huddled under a blanket on the couch and knelt down in front of him. His trained eyes barely had to look him over, and he immediately caught on to what was going on with Harry.

"How did he get a concussion?" Snape didn't hear any accusation in his godson's voice, but the cusp of it was there.

"I don't know. He wandered off when we went into town today. When I found him, he was shaking, and he was shaking. I thought he had had a flashback." There was no missing the guilt in his godfather's voice, and Draco reassured him.

"The symptoms of a concussion aren't always so easy to spot. They can take days to really manifest or longer. Has he been unconscious at all, since you've been with him?" Draco asked as he slowly lifted his hands to Harry's head. The young man, who had been staring at the wall across from them and not acknowledging their presence, suddenly gasped and shook harder. Snape pursed his lips.

"When I brought him home, he got sick and then pleaded to be allowed to sleep. He slept for about forty-five minutes, before he woke up and was sick again." Draco shook his head and carefully ran his fingers through Harry's hair.

"Lucky he didn't slip into a coma. Harry, did you hit your head earlier today?" Just as he asked that, his fingers pressed a bump the size of a golfball on the back of Harry's skull, and the wizard hissed in pain.

"Mhm," he whimpered. His hands circled Draco's wrists in hopes of getting him to stop probing. "Mean b-boyss. Pickin' on a caat. Wanted themmm to sto-op." Snape raised a brow and his mind immediately flashed to the group of teens that had boorishly run through the market the other day and shoved Harry into George and Clara's stand.

"Are these the same boys that ran through the market the other day?" Before Harry could answer, Draco pushed a vial into his hand.

"Drink this. It'll clear your head up a bit, while I run a few diagnostic spells." Harry didn't argue and took the potion, not even grimacing at the taste.

"Y-yeah. Gang of them." Harry scowled then smirked. "Not as bad as Dudley's gang thooough. Compared to that, they hit like girls. At least…Horrrse Teeth does." The two others didn't bother trying to understand Harry's last reference, and Draco got the results from the diagnostic spells. He clenched his jaw to prevent himself from cursing. The diagnostic spells Healers were taught tell them the patient's entire medical history for the area that they were testing. This was only one of many concussions Harry had had, not to mention skull fractures and the fainting spells. Honestly, if Harry wasn't such a powerful wizard, he would have become permanently handicapped a long time ago. The spell told informed him of injuries Harry had sustained since he was three, when they must have started. The sad part? The injuries to his head (At least) had declined over the years. But that was not what Draco was looking for, so for the sake of his remaining out of Azkaban, he reigned it in and focussed on the now.

"So, not a major concussion, but a decent one. Also not your first, which isn't a big surprise. Mild shock, though I'll assume it was from a flashback, and," Draco pulled the blanket open and pushed Harry's shirt up, revealing some deep plum colored bruises. "Madam Pomfrey is going to start asking where all of the bruise salve is going," Draco complained, but fished it from his bag anyway and rubbed it on Harry's abdomen. So, he was going to be okay, but something was still bothering Snape.

"Did you have a flashback, Harry? Is that why you seemed so scared?" Harry's face went from slowly unwinding and relaxing to a stone mask. He didn't answer for a little while, making Draco and Severus equally anxious. Finally,

"Some g-guy showed up, and sstopped them from hitting me again. I know him. I know himm. B-but…" Harry trailed off.

"But what, Harry?" Harry bit the inside of his cheek in frustration until he tasted the copper tang of blood.

"I can't remember. It's liiike I just…knew." His ward clammed up after that, and they didn't get any more information. His godson assured him that it was likely due to the head wound that Harry was a bit confused as to the details. Very common. So, they simply finished up in silence. Draco had given Harry a few more potions, none that Severus didn't already have, checked his neck much like Severus had done, and bid the two of them goodbye, with the strict order to get some rest, and to not have a reason to fire-call him tomorrow.

Harry felt like he had been run over by a train, as the potions thrust healing upon him. But he did feel much more…him, rather than confused and hazy. He saw Severus staring at him.

"Um, Sir?" Severus shook his head.

"You are a magnet for trouble, Mr. Potter." He was quiet for a few moments, before he added, "Do not wander off again. I lose sight of you for a few seconds and this happens. You aren't alone anymore, Harry. I am your guardian, which makes me responsible for you, and puts me in the position to care for you, no matter how independent you may be. Now," Snape stood. "Draco suggested you rest, but he didn't give a specific place." Harry smiled at the Slytherin glint in Snape's eyes. "Come, Mr. Potter. I won't let you brew, but you can at least watch and learn as I make potions for my customers." Harry's smile grew, and the potion's master made sure he didn't jump up from the couch too fast in his eagerness.

"Careful, Mr. Potter. We do not need you fainting next from standing up too quickly." Harry snorted and nodded.

"Yeah, Draco would kill me." Severus turned, so Harry didn't see his smirk. They at least appeared to be on the same page.

So I looked up the symptoms of a concussion both mild and severe, and I kind of just picked which ones I wanted to use. They are all jumbled up in here, so do not use this as a self-diagnosis, but the symptoms Harry is displaying do coincide with a more major concussion.

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