Uncle Severus

"You sure you're ready?" Harry asked as he and Draco wandered down to the dungeons that evening. They were going to tell Snape, and Draco was terrified, shaking and clasping the sleeves of his robes tightly.

Draco cleared his throat before speaking, not wanting to start sobbing again – he'd done quite enough of that thank-you-very-much! "Yeah. I need to."

Harry wasn't stupid though, no matter what anyone thought, and knew immediately the other boy's fears. He could tell Draco was afraid his uncle would disown him, not believe him, or worse yet, not care.

Before he could say anything to try an alleviate those fears however, they were at the door to the formidable potions master's private quarters. Draco had assured Harry that they'd be allowed in – Harry only with Draco's reassurance that the other boy would behave – and so that was where they had ended up.

As Draco reached up a hand to knock on the heavy oak of the door, it swung open, revealing the man himself. Severus Snape eyed the two speculatively before beckoning them in, shooting an unreadable look towards the darker of the two.

Once they were beyond the door, Snape shut and locked it, speaking for the first time. "How may I help, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter?"

Harry was slightly taken aback by the given title, as usually he was just referred to as 'Potter' or, least favourably, 'boy', but gave nothing away as he followed the other two occupants into the living area. There, both his professor and Draco sat, looking at Harry expectantly. When he just stood, awkwardly, Snape barked "Sit down, will you?"

"Oh! Sorry… Thank you Sir." Harry tiptoed over to where his friend sat, on a surprisingly lavish black leather settee, and perched on the edge, not wanting to mark the nice piece of furniture, nor really sure what to do. He wasn't very seasoned to dealing with Snape outside classes and detentions, and found himself feeling considerably out of his depth.

Once he'd sat down – very warily, noted Severus – Draco spoke. "I-It's about Father, Sir. There's something I need to tell you…" Here, he trailed off, not sure where to start.

"Has he been abusing you?" Snape asked forwardly, shocking both boys.

The look in his coal black eyes told Draco all he needed to know: his uncle believed him, and that was before anything had even really been said.

"He has." Was all he could say in response, crystal tears clouding his vision. Severus stood, walking over to the boy, and Harry, not having seen the previous look in his eye, but certainly noting it now, stood too, placing himself between them. Severus Snape was angry, and Harry was sure he was going to hurt his friend.

"H-Harry. It's okay. He believes me." Draco spoke between hiccoughs, pulling on the other boy's robe so as to get him to sit back down.

"How d'you know? He's angry, see?" Harry scowled, turning his head only slightly so he was facing both Draco and his teacher. Snape noted this, too.

"'He' has a name, Mr. Potter. It would do you well to remember that. Now, my godson is right; I am not angry with Draco, in fact I'm angry with both Lucius and myself. Please retake your seat, child."

Child? Harry wavered, unsure. Was Snape being nice?

"Sit down. Please, Harry?" Draco implored, still tugging on the back of his friend's robe.

"If you're sure…" Harry sat, side-eying Draco to see that he was.

Satisfied, both with the situation and himself for not snarking, Severus strode over to his godson, making Harry gape by enveloping the blond boy in a hug. "Draco, my child, why didn't you tell me sooner?" The boy in his arms shrugged weakly, letting his tears and snot make a damp spot on his godfather's robed shoulder.

The man backed away slightly, tilting Draco's chin up with his forefinger in order to get him to look at him. He had decided, that if the boy wouldn't talk, he would use legilimency on him. As it turned out, Draco wouldn't, and so the master legilimens kept to his unspoken word, delving into the child's mind. What he saw was horrific.

-0-

Seven year old Draco approaching his father, proudly producing a wand from his back pocket to show to him, and in the process, knocking over a vase.

The punishment had been so severe that Draco had screamed, belt whipping his back over one hundred times as he was held down by a sticking charm.

Ten year old, slightly taller Draco, taking his socks off and handing them off to his personal elf to wash, unknowingly freeing the shocked creature. Lucius had crucio'd him that night, over and over until the sun rose. It was a wonder the poor child was still alive, thought Severus, restraining himself and his own emotions in order to make sure he didn't damage the mind he was in.

Twelve year old, wary Draco stepping away from his father and into a forbidden room, causing a loud screech to emit from said room. He'd spent the next three days locked in the dark, dank basement, in a tiny dog cage with no food or water. No one came to check on him until it was time for him to be let out, and only then it was because Narcissa was coming home from her week away in Paris. Draco had somehow lost a stone in those three days, apparently due to a metabolism increasing hex that his father had cast upon him.

And finally, although those were not all instances by far, thirteen year old Draco, sitting at the dinner table in the furthest seat from his parents, almost as though excluded from them, dropping his fork. This time, Lucius had held the terrified teenager above the floor by his neck, belittling and sneering at him. Draco's legs had kicked and his hands had gone to his throat as he gasped for air, pleading with Lucius to let him go, that he would 'be good'.

Only when his sons face was blue did Lucius free him, letting go suddenly so the boy fell to his knees, where he'd been kicked towards the door.

-0-

Severus gently disentangled himself from Draco's mind, pulling out and taking a deep, steadying breath. "That bastard."