Disclaimer/ I do not own that which J.K. Rowling has created. If I did it would be more like this/ XD

Warning/ this is slash! If you do not like it then why are you on this site?

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T_T hopefully I can get more than 4 reviews... (^-')

Part 4/ in the dungeons of Hogwarts

Snape apparated them straight to the dungeons, knowing that his lord probably had people waiting for him at his manor. But before he had the chance to settle everything down Harry pushed himself out of Snapes grasp and fell to the floor.

"Stay away from me!" he pulled out his wand pointing it straight up into Snapes chest.

Severus stared down at the boy- who- lived. Harry had a scared, wild look in his eyes and something that registered close to hope. Snape could not look past that look of anguish in those brilliant green eyes... Lilly's eyes... Wrong he thought. They were Harry's eyes.

He stared at Harry a moment. He had misjudged the boy savior. His life and he had made the mistake of thinking this boy was James... The shaking figure in front of him had been screaming at him from the beginning. Snape flicked his wand and summoned a cloak to cover Harry's shaking form.

"Potter I have no intention of coming anywhere near you." Severus scowled at the boy. But what of the thirst I feel? He remembered the ache he felt when he watched that pig of a man bleed the boy. He could still feel that ache now that he was alone and looking at Harry sitting not but a couple of steps away. The dark cloak covered his pale torso and shoulders. He could easily scoop the young man up and relax him. It would also give him a taste. A whiff of the intoxicating aroma he had only a hint of at that house. Snape flinched at his own thoughts as Harry practically yelled at him.

"Do you expect me to believe that after six years now you decide to do something to help me?" Harry looked at his potions master incredulously." I don't think so. Where is Voldemort? Isn't that why you came? Isn't that why you were at number 4? Do you expect me to believe that the man who killed Dumbledore, a DEATH EATER like you would want anything to do with me but to bring me to fucking Voldemort?"

"Don't say his name!" Snape spat realizing that this wasn't going on as pleasant as he had hoped. He had at least hoped that Harry would Listen. Give him a chance.

Harrys face paled as he stood and stumbled into the wall that was closest to him. Instinctively Snape rushed forward to grab the boy before he fell to the floor. As he held him he felt Harry stiffen. No this wasn't going well at all. Snape fully expected Harry to push him away and stumble around the hall before he actually accepted help. But harry didn't. And Snape worried that he wouldn't have let harry even if he had tried.

The second Snape grabbed Harry he was cautious. This was his potions professor. The man that had tried to make his life a living hell since he started coming to Hogwarts. Why was he trying to help him? Why did he feel so comfortable in the man's grasp? But he relaxed. He liked the feel of the older man. Enjoyed the feeling of his body pressed to his own. He buried his face into the folds of the cloak that was embedded with the slight spicy aroma that had engulfed him. He leaned closer into his professor and blacked out.

Snape felt Harry relax into him and carefully picked the boy up and moved through the halls; until he came to a wall with a snake curled one it. Making sure no one was around. He whispered Non Omnis Moriar (Not all of me shall die.) to the snake. And he watched as it stretched into the frame of a door. As it opened for him he walked briskly into his chambers going into the closest room and laying harry carefully down on the bed.

He sat there for a moment looking at the boy before he left the room and went to his supply closet and grabbed a couple of bottles of healing drought and salve. He walked back to the bed and carefully removed the cloak he had placed around the boys shoulders. He gave a scorching look at the ragged too baggy pants that harry wore low on his hips. He dared the offending clothes to disappear on their own so that he wouldn't have to go near the tempting skin that was revealed. He waved his hand over the body and the pants disappeared leaving harry in a pair of shorts. Looking more critically at the scars, cuts, and bruises that littered the young man's body, Severus took out his wand and did a quick scan of the damage and growled when he realized that Harry had several broken bones. And that most of the damage could only have been sustained over years of abuse. He looked at Harrys face and for a moment he saw what the boy hid from everyone. The calm state he was in. the free, safe look Severus recalled he had never seen on Harrys face before. Severus conjured a bowl of warm water and a rag and started to remove the now dried blood from first Harrys face before he worked his way to Harry's chest making sure not to press to hard where he was sure the broken bones were.

A slight moan escaped Harry's lips and Severus froze with want at the noise. Damn this boy. He scowled at the potions on the table before conjuring skell-a-grow from his store as well. He looked back at the young man, his small but toned form laying on his bed. Yes his bed. He pictured kissing the boy's neck and hearing Harry moan from pleasure. Not from pain. He imagined himself kissing Harry's mouth, not that hippopotamus; surely he could show Harry a real kiss...in his bed. He shook his head and he felt the heat pooling in his groin. Damn this betraying skin he lived in!

After the blush died on the potion masters face he resumed clearing away all the dried blood that covered the boy. Looking out the door when he came to the deep cut in Harry's thigh; pushing all thoughts about licking the skin that was stained with his blood. Taking some salve into his hand he rubbed it onto all the cuts that were visible on the boy's chest and legs before levitating him and turning him over to repeat the process. Before he finished he walked out into his sitting area and poured himself some fire whiskey he had in a decanter and sat staring at the green fire in his fire place. Harry had scars several years old. And they covered most of the boys visible body. But what disturbed him the most was the ones that were obviously self-inflicted. How could he not have noticed what potter was going through? What he was doing to himself.…

"Child, what distresses you?"

Severus looked at the portrait hanging above the fire place. Salazar Slytherin looked down on him with old ebony eyes. He looked at the old vampire for a moment before looking down at his glass.

"Grandfather what am I to do?"

"Are you admitting defeat? Quite unlike you... What has befuddled you my wise young snake?" the portrait looked at him half sneering.

"I am not admitting defeat to anything. I am the head of this house. It's that damn potter." he growled. Sighing he shook his head. "He was abused. I haven't even scratched the surface of the damage done to him. And the blood in my veins has his blood calling to me. "Severus sneered up at the portrait." I guess I can blame you for that."

"oh so you finally found him." Salazar disappeared out of his portrait for a moment before he returned with a dusty looking book in his hand. "Only one will call to you. I believe I have told you this before."

"I know this! But why potter." the flames in the fire place jumped before settling back down. "The insufferable brat has been keeping his abuse to himself. Someone could have helped him. Dumbledore in the least would have helped him. While he was alive." he grimaced as he remembered the flash of green light and how the old wizard had died by his wand. How he had fallen from the tower.

The portrait above the mantle started to laugh. Severus raised his eyebrow and waited for his grandfather to stop this outbreak and settle.

"That old fool knew what was happening. Do you think he didn't when he had people watching and reporting to him to tell him of every scratch? Bruise? The breaks?"

Severus stared at the portrait. "no you have to be wrong!" he stood and started pacing. "He couldn't have known. They were killing him!"

Salazar watched his grandson pace in front of him. "No he knew. I'm not that old of a painting yet to start getting deaf to what's around me." He let Severus sit back on the couch before he continued. "He knew and he could have done something. But around other people the boy was too much of a risk. He left him in the care of those muggles because if Voldemort went after him at least it was them and not a wizard family. He would have killed the boy after he killed Voldemort anyway." he shook his head sadly.

Severus was turning green the longer he listened to the spirit painting of his grandfather. He felt a weight in his pocket a pulled out a scrunched piece of parchment. Dumbledore's letter...

He scanned the letter warily before he stopped himself halfway through to reading it thoroughly .

He jumped up and his hands shaking, he flexed his fingers creating creases in the letter. "That bastard fed him to the dogs!"