The first thing Snape did was charm a few potions into the boy's stomach: one to diminish the effects of alcohol, the other to put him in a drug-induced slumber. The boy should stay unconscious for the next 8 hours.

He wished he could floo for Madam Pomfrey, but the women was working at Saint Mungus for the summer. Snape resigned himself to heal Potter himself. He had the necessary skills, but it wasn't something he wanted to do. This was Potter, after all, and Snape wasn't a professional healer by any means. The boy would probably prefer Madam Pomfrey to him, but this was an emergency. He couldn't just let this go, no matter how unpleasant for the both of them.

He filled up the bathtub with warm water and soap and carefully cleaned the boy's limp body from the fresh scrapes and dirt he had acquired. He had to hold the boy up and by the end of the bath he succeeded in wearing half the water on himself. After drying Harry he laid him stomach-down on the bed.

After Harry was clean and dry Snape cast a diagnostic spell on the boy's body. The results were anything but pleasant. Aside from the visible wounds he had an arm, two fingers, and several ribs that had been broken in the past and had not healed properly. He was also malnourished. Snape was thankful that he had made it a rule that meals were not to be skipped. At least the boy had been eating properly for the past week. If he had been left at the Dursleys for the remainder of the summer it was doubtful his body would have held up at this rate.

Snape had to feed the boy skele-grow by pouring it into his mouth and massaging his trachea to help it go down. With any luck the boy would stay sleeping and the bones would be completely healed by the time he woke up.

Essie, his house elf, was at his side. She had a worried expression on her face and, when Snape wasn't sending her back and forth to get more potions to keep her distracted, she shifted restlessly on her feet. Her worried expression mirrored how Snape felt, even if his emotions were hidden from long years of practice as a spy.

He coated bruise salve on Harry's back, buttocks, and thighs- the most injured places. He would have to let it sit on for several hours to take away some of the worst tissue damage. It would need to be applied several times to vanish scars, but a singular use would heal the bruises and cuts after a few hours.

The boy would have to lie flat on his stomach naked while the salve did it's job. Snape flicked the fireplace in the room on so that Harry's body stayed warm.

By the time he had done it was nearing 12 o'clock at night. He decided he needed to talk to Dumbledore at once now that Harry was stabilized and would remain unconscious. It was an emergency and he would not wait all night until the morning to speak to the man. He sent Essie ahead of him to warn Dumbledore of the impending visit.

Snape stormed into Dumbledore's office soon after, his black robes bellowing behind him like a storm cloud. He had been working for the past few hours to heal Harry, and his adrenaline was still running high. "No, I do not want to sit, and I do not want a lemon drop," he said upon entering.

Dumbledore was sitting and drinking tea. He was wearing his pajama robes, which, not surprisingly, looked like his regular every-day robes. The one difference was that the cloth was printed with cartoon candies. Snape figured he should not be surprised, but they were so ridiculous he almost laughed at the absurdity of it anyway.

"I did not expect to see you this late!" exclaimed Dumbledore. "How is Harry? Is he asleep? You should have brought him for tea if you were visiting."

"Potter is not well. In fact, it seems he has not been well for quite some time- if, in fact, he has ever been well."

Now that Snape was in a position of having to explain the situation he started to feel overwhelmed and, more than anything, angry.

Dumbledore's face looked slightly more aged in that second, and his eyes lost their normal twinkle. "Whatever do you mean, Severus?" he asked in a quiet tone.

Snape continued pacing the room, his hands behind his back, his robes sweeping the floors. "The Boy Wonder, Savior of the Wizarding World, has been physically abused. Not just once and not just a light knocking around, but severely, and systematically for a long time. I have only just found out this afternoon and spent many hours assessing his various injuries and healing him. I have not yet questioned him as to who did this to him, but why do I need to even do such a thing? It's obvious that the blame goes to that blasted muggle family you have him living with for-what was it?-oh yes, for his protection."

Dumbledore seemed to crumble even more. Somehow the wizard appeared much older and deflated, like an apple core left out in the sun for too long. All the normal vibrancy that the man had was no wheres to be seen. "Severus, I never knew the boy was treated that way. He always spoke of his family as unpleasant, yet he never mentioned abuse! He must have gone to such great lengths to hide it. Surely you must understand what he is going through? Did you not deal with similar circumstances in your youth and tried your best to hide it?"

Snape stopped pacing, his blood running cold. "Don't bring my life into this!" he snapped angrily. "This has nothing to do with me. This is Potter that we are speaking of, your special golden boy. We cannot let this abuse go on."

"Of course not! No child should have to experience what Harry has gone through." Dumbledore looked grave.

Severus was still angry. He clenched and unclenched his fists, unsure of where to direct his anger. He was angry at Dumbledore for not recognizing the abuse earlier, but he was angry at himself for the very same reason. Finally he collapsed on the couch across from Dumbledore. He felt suddenly exhausted, the events of the past few hours catching up with him.

"I will not keep the boy with me," Snape muttered. "You cannot force me to do it any longer. I will no longer be able to look at him the same way knowing that we share this similarity. And-and, I am afraid I have hurt the boy. I did not understand what he has already gone through, and I have mistreated him. Neither do I hold it in my ability to stop doing so. I find myself increasingly resembling my own father." He passed his hand over his eyes and shuddered. He hated being this honest, but he needed to be to get his point across. He would not keep Potter. He had done his part in finding out this dark secret, bringing it to light, and healing the boy. His responsibility ended now.

Snape expected Dumbledore to try to refute what Severus had said and then try to manipulate him to keep Harry, maybe offering a few comforting words first such as 'you didn't mean it,' and 'I believe in you' or 'you are not your father." He was surprised when Dumbledore agreed immediately without any protest. "Very well, then."

Snape's head shot up. "You mean it, then? I don't have to keep him? But he cannot go back to the Dursleys!"

"He won't." Dumbledore took a sip of his now cold tea. "It has come to my attention during the past day that Harry has another relative that no one has been aware of. He is a second step cousin of Lily who has been living in Canada for the past twenty years, and has only now moved back to London this past summer. He is a muggle man, a lawyer, yet familiar with wizarding society, and is seeking to connect with family over here. He is interested in getting guardianship over Harry. He knew Lily when they were children, it seems."

"I have never heard of the man!" snorted Snape. "Don't you find this suspicious? The man has never showed up before, no one has heard of him, and all of the sudden he wants guardianship?"

"I have already spoken to the Order, and established everything. His house has been warded, and Harry will stay with him temporarily for a trial period. If both are of agreeance he can stay permanently."

Severus knew he should feel elated. It wasn't that he wasn't relieved over the news that Harry would no longer be his burden. It was just that he still found these circumstances suspicious.

"When will the man come to collect Harry?"

"Best not wait. Tomorrow will do."

"And to whom do I owe my gratitude?"

"His name is Jack. Jack Hankes."