Disclaimer: Do I look blonde, rich, and British to you? (says the brunette middle-class American) :)

Okay, Q&A time!

A guest reviewer asked me if Harry was being too trusting; taking what LV says at face value; etc.

My answer is no, he isn't taking what LV says at face value. I might not have made this clear, but while Voldie is stuck in Harry's head, they can both feel every little emotion from the other. They can also both sense if the other is lying to them(yes, even Harry). There's not much privacy in the mind.

Justpucky asked me why Harry didn't order Dobby to put the pudding down when he knew that the house-elf had to obey him, to an extent. Short answer: Harry panicked and forgot. Harry's also so used to being the one given orders that he really only gave Dobby the orders that he did because Voldie prompted him to.

Speech: "Talking aloud"; 'Thinking to oneself'; /Thinking to each other/; :Parseltongue:

When the twins are speaking in turns: "Fred"; "George"

Now... Story Time!

As Harry lost consciousness, Voldemort almost felt as if he was being pushed forward, taking the boy's place. Thankfully, the Muggle monstrosity beating Potter's near-dead body left only shortly afterward.

Voldemort lay still for a moment in Harry's broken body. The boy was still there, and still in control of his magic, but Harry wasn't in control of his body. The Dark Lord concentrated on sitting up, assessing the damage. 'A broken leg, the bones in his right arm are practically shattered, what feels like multiple broken—or at least fractured—ribs, and he probably has a concussion as well, judging by my headache and his lack of consciousness. And he's bleeding out. That damn Muggle really wanted Harry to die.' The Dark Lord didn't even notice that he had referred to the boy as Harry in his thoughts.

'And the child will certainly die if he doesn't receive the right medical treatment soon.' Voldemort stood up slowly, leaning heavily on the desk. 'Well, desperate times call for desperate measures, as they say.'

He scrabbled one-handedly for a piece of paper and a Muggle pencil. The man finally managed to scratch out a message, painfully aware of the smudges of blood covering the parchment. He expertly opened the cage with a tiny burst of magic. 'I may not have control of my magic, but it's a good thing I have partial access to Harry's.'

"Here, Hedwig," he whispered, glad he remembered the bird's name. "You have to take this to We-Ron. Quickly now."

The bird regarded him for a moment, then took the scrap of parchment in her beak and exited the cage, flying out of the window. Voldemort stood watching her fade into the distance as a dizzying sensation of relief overcame him and he collapsed on the bed.

DMHPDM

At the same time, an old wizard sat dozing at a cluttered desk when he was suddenly awakened by a shrill alarm. He jumped up in agitation, looking over a strange little device which was currently whirling around shrieking, its surface a sickly orange, flickering occasionally to red, instead of the usual pale yellowish-green. Dumbledore threw a handful of green powder into his fireplace and stuck his head into it. After a moment, he pulled his head back out of the emerald flames and a dour man clad all in black stepped through the Floo.

"What is it, Albus?" Severus Snape asked aggravated. "What's this emergency?"

Albus looked solemn. "Harry Potter has been injured. He seems to still be at the Dursley residence, and I need you to retrieve him while I wake Poppy. You need to hurry, Severus." With that, he swept out of the office, leaving the grumbling man to run down out of the castle to the nearest Apparation point.

DMLVDM

Ron was hiding from the twins when the white snowy owl found him.

"Hedwig!" he exclaimed in amazement. Ron took the scrap of parchment from her, read it through once, and then went so pale his freckles stood out is sharp relief.

A voice made him jump. "Well, well, I wonder what has ickle Ronnikiens—"

"—so very frightened?"

Ron looked up to see his older twin brothers, and practically jumped on them in his panic. "Guys, you've got to help me! I just got a letter from Harry saying that his uncle tried to kill him. He thinks he's gonna die!"

The grins slid off of Fred and George's faces. "We'll have to use Dad's car. It's good that he's out late again—he'll never notice."

The trio raced to their garage, climbing into the Angelia Ford. As Fred lifted off, George turned to Ron, who was still slightly in shock, and asked, "Do you know Harry's address?"

Ron nodded. "He lives at Number Four, Privet Drive, in Little Whinging, Surrey. But how are you going to find your way? I don't know how to get from here to Surrey!"

"Watch and learn, little brother," Fred said smoothly. He tapped the steering wheel with his wand, saying in a commanding voice, "Find Surrey." The car started off on a completely different course than the one Fred had been driving. He smirked at Ron. "Now, when the wheel glows, I just tell it to find Little Whinging, and so on."

After a few minutes of quiet, George asked Ron, "Can we see the letter?" Ron hesitated, and then handed it over.

Ronald Weasley,

Harry's uncle just tried to kill him, and he's unconscious right now. We're bleeding out and badly injured—I don't know how long he has. Get help, and fast.

Harry's Companion

George frowned after reading the letter aloud. "I thought you said Harry wrote this," he said slowly. "Who's 'Harry's Companion'?"

Ron stared down at the seat, before apparently making up his mind and gazing at his brothers with a hard look in his eyes. "I'll tell you, but you've got to both swear you won't repeat it to anyone—ever! Harry thinks that he might be killed if anyone finds this out."

Fred and George exchanged glances. "That sounds—"

"—quite serious. But we don't want Harry dead—

"—so we promise to keep your secret."

Ron exhaled slowly. "Okay, do you guys know what happened with Harry and Quirrel?"

Fred grinned. "Sure! Didn't he keep Quirrel from stealing some magical artifact?" He noticed the steering wheel glowing, and quietly muttered, "Find Little Whinging."

Nodding, Ron replied, "Yeah, but that's not the whole story. You see, Quirrel was being possessed by You-Know-Who. Harry has some protective magic on him that turned Quirrel to ash when the git tried to strangle him, but You-Know-Who didn't die when Quirrel did. He tried to possess Harry."

The twins paled, asking questions simultaneously, "You mean Harry's possessed? What do you mean by 'tried'?"

Ron laughed rather nervously. "No, You-Know-Who isn't possessing him. Harry said that he did some crazy accidental magic and trapped You-Know-Who in a sort of mental prison. You-Know-Who can't control Harry, but he can't leave or do magic either. The letter said 'we are badly injured'. I think he wrote the letter."

George whistled, staring at Ron. "That's quite something. Wait, hang on; if You-Know-Who can't control Harry, then how did he write that letter?"

Ron frowned. "You know; I'm not sure. He did say that Harry was unconscious. Maybe he can control Harry's body, but only when Harry isn't controlling it."

Fred interrupted. "Hey, Ron, where did you say Harry's neighborhood was?"

"Privet Drive," Ron answered promptly. "Are we nearly there?"

Fred nodded, tapping the steering wheel and relaying the directions once again. "Yeah. We're nearly there. He lives at Number 4, right?"

"Yes." Ron hesitated, and then continued "Once we get him, should we bring Harry home, or use the 'find' thing to get to St. Mungo's?"

The twins glanced at one another again. "Let's see how badly off he is, first."

Ron nodded, a lump suddenly rising in his throat as apprehension and dread overcame him. 'What if we don't get there in time?'

DMHPDM

Severus Snape was furious. Albus had ordered him to check on the Potter brat, but the doddering old fool had completely forgotten to give Severus a port-key, and it had also slipped his mind that Severus could not apparate to Privet Drive without ever having been there. The dour man was merely grateful that he had made a habit of travelling the Muggle way to avoid detection, as he had stopped in the Little Whinging train station before.

He had been walking through the town for nearly half an hour with no sight of a neighborhood by the name of Privet Drive, cursing both Albus and the Potter boy the entire time. His insults were getting rather creative and bloody by the time he had a brainwave. 'Hang on—' Snape paused as an idea struck him. 'Didn't Albus have a squib agent posted near Potter's house? What was her name? Finn? No…maybe Phil…Fogg…Frigg…Figg! That was it, Arabella Figg!'

He placed his wand flat on his palm and whispered –Point me Arabella Figg- 'If this doesn't work I don't know what I'll do to find the boy, but I do know I'm going to kill Albus.' The wizard then began walking briskly in the direction his wand was pulling him. It was good she was only a block away from him, as the spell stopped working after a one mile radius. After frightening the life out of Mrs. Figg and obtaining the directions to Potter's house from her, Snape set off once again.

Privet Drive was thankfully only a block over from the obnoxious squib's house. Severus sneered at the sight of the identical cookie-cutter houses. When he reached the door of house No. 4, he whispered a quiet –Alohamora-.

Opening the door cautiously, he stepped into the darkened house. All was quiet, and there didn't appear to be anything wrong. Casting Homenium Revelio only indicated that there were living people here in the house. He stood in the sitting room, utterly bewildered. 'Was it just a false alarm, or did I come too late? Damn Albus!' Severus thought furiously.

He held his wand out again, whispering –Point me Harry Potter-. The wand spun lazily in his hand, pointing toward the stairwell. Scowling at the confirmation that Potter really was in the house, Snape slowly ascended the stairs, clutching his wand. He paused at the first door on the second floor upon hearing hushed voices. –Audio- he murmured, the whispers becoming clear.

"Ron! You idiot; what did you levitate him for? I thought we said no magic!"

Severus frowned at the familiar voice. 'What are the Weasley boys doing here?'

"This isn't the time to argue! I was afraid we'd make his injuries worse moving him ourselves. I'm sure Mum will understand! Now—are we bringing him home or straight to St. Mungo's?"

Severus had heard enough. Opening the door, he drawled, "If Potter is that badly injured, he needs to see a healer, not you mother!"

All three red-headed boys jumped in alarm. "Professor Snape!" Severus took in the scene. The twin Weasleys were standing defensively in front of Potter's body, which was being levitated by the younger boy. He could see a car hovering outside the window, and nearly groaned. 'Of course they would have a flying car...'

Before he could say anything else, one of the twins exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

Snape glowered. "One of Albus' alarms connected to Potter's life-force went off and he sent me to investigate," he said in aggravation. "Now let me see him!"

The twin menaces slowly retreated. Severus' eyes widened at the sight that he was confronted with. Even before using a diagnostic charm, it was obvious that Potter was almost at death's door. Poppy wasn't qualified to treat injuries of this magnitude. He immediately took charge. "You three return to your home; I'll get Potter to St. Mungo's."

The youngest Weasley's face took on a stubborn cast. "I'm not leaving Harry," he declared. And as his professor opened his mouth to argue, Ron added, "There's not time to argue. Harry really needs healing, sir. You can take us both to the hospital, and Fred and George can get Harry's stuff, fly the car home, and explain what's going on to Mum."

Snape closed his mouth. What the boy had said was logical, and it was more than obvious he wouldn't be swayed. "Fine!" he snapped. "Come, there are anti-apparition wards on the house." Severus stalked out of the room, Ron levitating Harry after him.

The twins didn't move until they had heard the faint tell-tale *CRACK* of apparition. "Right!" George said, "Let's get cracking!"

The two tossed everything in the room into Harry's open trunk. They then loaded it into the car, Fred grabbing Hedwig's cage on the way out.

Upon arriving at the Burrow, the two raced into the house only to run straight into their mother. They gulped at the expression on her face, but hastily began explaining before she could begin her impending rant.

"Ron got a letter from Harry!"

"His uncle tried to kill him!"

"We were just trying to help—"

"—Harry really did look like he was going to die."

"Yeah. There was blood everywhere. Anyway, Professor Snape turned up—"

"—and he took Harry to St. Mungo's. Ron insisted on going with him."

"The professor sent us home to tell you what was going on."

Molly's eyes widened. "So you were trying to help Harry?" The boys nodded. "And Ron went with Professor Snape to the hospital?" They nodded again. She exhaled slowly. Molly had been startled when she heard the car Arthur had been tinkering with start. She had run out of the house just in time to see the car flying—flying—away over the trees. Just as Molly had identified the passengers of the car to be her three youngest sons, it had vanished with a shimmer that spoke of invisibility charms.

She had been absolutely infuriated, and had planned to lecture both Arthur (when he was home from work) and the boys. But now—learning that they had only done it to save someone—she didn't know what to think. Molly decided that it would be better to determine if Harry really had been in danger of dying before she let them off the hook. Boys were prone to exaggerating, after all, though she knew that with Professor Snape's involvement the child had most likely truly been injured.

"Right, then," she said briskly, "you two head on up to bed. I'll go get Ronnie and check on Harry's condition." The twins nodded, walking slowly up the stairs. Molly walked to the fireplace, grabbing a handful of Floo powder and throwing it down as she called out her destination.

"St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries!"

DMHPDM

Severus stood scowling in a corner. He had apparated with Potter and the Weasley boy to the emergency section of St. Mungo's. Then, the professor had summarized as briefly as possible what had happened to the injured boy, before two attendants whisked him away. Now he was stuck in a hospital waiting room with a twelve-year-old Weasley. The boy was tapping his foot on the ground.

Severus glared and snapped at him "Would you stop that infernal tapping?!"

Weasley blushed and stopped, but retorted, "I can't help it; I'm too worried about Harry. What if we were too late? What if he never wakes up? I just..." he looked away and swiped the back of his hand across his eyes.

Snape sighed. It was natural for the boy to be worried, he knew, especially after actually witnessing his friend's condition, but did he really have to release his agitation in such an irritating manner? "Potter will be fine, Weasley. The healers know what they are doing."

Weasley, to his surprise, simply nodded instead of arguing. He then opened his mouth to speak again. "Sir?"

"Yes, Mr. Weasley?"

"How... how could Harry's uncle do that to him? I knew his relatives didn't like magic, but to nearly kill him... and on his birthday too..."

Severus blinked. 'It's Potter's birthday?' "Sometimes, Mr. Weasley, when a person is scared of something, they lash out at it, especially if whomever they fear is only a defenseless little boy."

The boy scowled and muttered under his breath, "It doesn't make it right."

Snape inclined his head in agreement as the door was forcefully opened. The two looked up to see Molly Weasley standing in the doorway.

"Ronnie! There you are! Oh... Hello Professor Snape." She smiled at him. "I hope Ron wasn't too much trouble."

He stood, shaking his head. "Mr. Weasley was much better behaved than he is in my class, certainly. You have come to retrieve him, I presume?"

Molly nodded. "Yes." She hesitated, and then continued. "I suppose that Fred and George weren't exaggerating, then?"

"No." he firmly replied. "Potter was nearly dead. That was why I brought him here, instead of handing the boy over to Poppy." Severus then grimaced. "Albus is going to raise hell over this, though. Besides a patronus, I haven't told him anything yet."

The Weasley boy interrupted them. "Why would the Headmaster be upset about Harry going to the hospital?"

Snape eyed him. "Albus has always been averse to letting other healers near Potter. As far as I know, when the Potters were attacked that Halloween, the only healer Potter saw was Madam Pomfrey."

Ron frowned, but said nothing more, at least until his mother told him, "Come on, Ron dear. You need to get to bed."

The red-headed boy turned toward her furiously. "I don't want to leave Harry!"

Seeing Mrs. Weasley's face turning red, Severus quickly interceded. "Perhaps your mother will bring you to visit him tomorrow if you return home without complaint now. Potter should be out of Emergency by then."

Heaving a sigh, Mrs. Weasley said, "I guess that would be alright. But only if you come home straight away with no more fussing!"

As the two Weasleys walked out, Severus sighed. It was time to face Albus, now.

DMHPDM

The old man was glaring at him as Severus walked into the room. "Why," he asked in a tight voice, "did you feel it necessary to take Harry to St. Mungo's? Poppy could have easily treated him her—"

"Treated him here?" Severus whispered, enraged. "I told you in the patronus that Potter's wounds were too great for Poppy. He needed professional healing, not medi-witch magic!" He paused, gazing at Albus curiously. "Why have you always been so adamant that Poppy treat him, anyway? He certainly should have seen a Healer after the Stone fiasco, and perhaps an Unspeakable to be checked over for Dark curses."

The Headmaster sighed. "After Harry was hit with the killing curse, I examined him for residual Dark magic. What I found horrified me." He gazed solemnly at Severus who, not in any mood to deal with Albus's theatrics, gestured impatiently for the old man to continue. Albus sighed again, and complied. "I believe that Voldemort" Severus twitched "meddled in some of the darkest magic known to mankind. I am nearly certain that he inadvertently turned Harry into a horcrux."

Severus paled. "What?"

Albus gazed at him. "I did not wish him to be treated at St. Mungo's because if my hunch is correct, Harry will have to die for Voldemort to be defeated, and I had no desire for that to become public knowledge."

Snape stared at him. "You... surely you were not planning to have the boy die, Albus?"

The old man looked away. "If he is truly a horcrux, then it is the only way."

Severus simply nodded numbly, walking out of Dumbledore's office down to his dungeons. Albus intended to have Potter dead. Severus sincerely hoped that Potter wasn't a horcrux, because if he was, then the boy he had sworn to protect with his life was a dead child walking. Lily's son was a dead child walking. Severus shuddered. He intended to get thoroughly plastered when he reached his quarters. And then he would decide what to do about Potter.

Did Dumbledore overplay his hand? What will Severus do now? Will Harry fully recover?

Hey, since I can't entirely decide what to do 'bout Sevvie, I'm holding a vote. The options are Severus helping Harry, or him deciding he hates Potters more than he loves Lily and staying on Dumbles' side.