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Severus POV:

My head burns with an intense discomfort that forces my eyes open. I am disoriented for a second, before the extreme pain brings me back to my senses.

There is darkness surrounding me, telling me it is late, possibly even early morning. This thought makes me groan as I think of the long day of classes I have ahead of me, which will no doubt be made worse with fatigue due to lack of sleep.

I futilely try and close my eyes, hoping to drift back to sleep, but the pounding in my head refuses to subside.

With a sigh I sit up and check the time, noting it is near two in the morning.

I grumble weakly to myself as I pull myself out of bed, thinking about weak sleeping potions and Dumbledore's request that I not use anything stronger in case of an emergency.

I make my way to my potions cabinet over in the corner of my sitting room that contains my personal remedies, and, of course, I am all out of pain relieving potions. I curse myself as I remember noticing this this a few days before, but ensuring myself I would replenish soon enough. My only other option is one of those blasted sleeping potions that doesn't even remotely help me anymore.

I rub my hands over my face as I consider my options.

I could go down to my personal lab and brew up a simple pain reliever. It wouldn't take too long but the thought of standing up for that amount of time while handling semi-dangerous ingredients in this state turns me off the idea pretty quickly. I am doubtful I could successfully brew anything with my head pounding like this.

I could always go to the clinic and retrieve one of Poppy's potions. This would be the most time efficient and her stuff is always a little bit stronger than everyday pain relief potions.

I quickly put on my robe, even though I don't expect to encounter anyone on this late night excursion, I am always careful. I can't imagine the damage to my reputation if someone saw me prancing in the corridors at night, sporting only my sleeping clothes I shudder at the thought.

I open the door to my personal quarters and quickly make my way through the dungeons and up to Poppy's office. I use the key she gave me open her personal store, before selecting an adequate headache relieving potion and downing it quickly.

The effect is almost instant and I feel the pressure decrease behind my eyes as the potion works its way through my system. I stand there for a minute, relieving the sensation before closing and locking the cabinet behind me.

I exit her office feeling tremendously better than before.

PAGE BREAK-

Using my wand to provide some sort of light, I make my ways back through the halls of Hogwarts, muttering replies at the paintings who curse at me for disrupting their sleep.

Just as I turn the last corner to make my way back to the dungeons, I hear a faint noise from somewhere further down the hallway. I am immediately suspicious, as a professor would have enough sense to use a bloody light and anyone else has absolutely no business being out at this late hour.

As silently as I can, I make my way further down the hallway, following the noise that has transformed into light footsteps.

Blasted students, I think to myself, why can't any of them follow the rules?

When I get close enough to the culprit, I can see the outline of their backside. The first thing that catches my attention is the mop of dark disheveled hair, and the pajama bottoms that are so torn and tattered they might be better not being worn at all.

I recognize however, the shape, and my mood brightens considerably.

"Ahh, Mr. Potter" I say out loud, visibly startling the wandering student.

He slowly turns around, a terrified look in his eye and I couldn't picture a more enjoyable sight. There is no escaping this. Just imaging the detentions and the point deductions that can come as a result of this moment makes waking up with a splitting headache almost worth it.

"What do you think you are doing?" I ask him, smirking, waiting for an answer I know won't make a difference. He has no excuse for this misbehavior.

His eyes widen and he starts stuttering.

"Uhh.. Uh.. I.. um.. "

"Uhh...umm..um" I mock him, enjoying this too much. "There is no excuse for you to be out this late, so could you please explain to me why you feel yourself above the rules?"

I tear my eyes away from his face and notice a hand clutched at his side, as if cradling part of his stomach.

But that's not it.

My blood runs cold and I freeze as I take in the state of his side. There is a long cut that runs from his lower back to the area right under his chest. It dark red, obviously inflamed and infected. The old shirt he is wearing is doing next to nothing to cover the boy and his shaking is visible.

For a moment I stop, remembering a time in my life where I sported injuries, all alone, wandering through the night, trying to find anything to relieve what I was going through.

I am jerked back into the present by Potter's increasingly persistent stuttering and pleas. He has purposefully turned to his good side, as if protecting the wound from my eyes.

"I ju..just needed the loo...I wasn't sure where to g..g..go."

I can tell he is lying instantly. Every dorm room has bathrooms, and there is no other need to be out wandering this late.

"Potter," I say sternly, trying for both our sakes to take some venom out of my voice. "What happened to your side?"

For some reason Potter is reminding me of myself as a kid, young, scrawny, injured, but the image messes with me so much that I push the thought out of my head.

He whitens instantly.

"Th..this?" he asks, trying to seem unconcerned, a tactic I know all too familiarly and can see right through, "This is nothing, a li..little injury from my f..first flying lesson today."

My body reacts before my mind does and I walk up to the boy. He shies away from me at first and flinches, as if I would hit him. My heart breaks a little at that, and I try and move slower.

"Potter," I say, my voice oddly soft. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to see it."

I carefully move his arm away from his side and hold the ripped shirt aside as I take in the injury.

The first thing I notice is how hot his skin is. Its bad. He needs immediate attention. The second thing that come to mind is that this was not magically inflicted. This was done by a muggle device, and by someone other than Potter as the angle and depth makes it impossible to be self-inflicted.

As I carefully examine the cut, my mind wanders to how Potter could have received these wounds. This is only Potter's second day at Hogwarts, a school which doesn't have muggle weapons and most definitely not what appears to be a sizable blade that would do so much damage. It has to have occurred prior to his arrival here.

I take a deep breath before looking at Potter.

He has gone silent, and I see him holding tears at bay, stopping them from cascading down his face. I think quickly about where I should take him. Poppy's office is bound to have the supplies needed to heal him up, but for some reason the thought of bringing him to a medical room tells me it might frighten him further. I make a split decision.

"Follow me, Potter, I'm going to take you my rooms and we can work on getting that cut of yours fixed up."

I start walking towards my personal room, making sure the boy is following me.

I see him look conflicted for a second, before giving in and walking slightly behind me. I notice his breath getting heavier and he looks more unstable on his feet.

I know what this is. I know the signs. As head of Slytherin house, I have to deal with this every year. Kids from this house are abused more than the others, and I have long since got accustomed to reading the signs. The rest of the faculty don't seem to understand what my snakes go through.

Looking back on my limited time in Potter's presence, I can't believe I missed the signs. I noticed him during class. I saw how he flinched and acted as if he were in pain. I should have stopped him right then and demanded to know what was wrong. It is my duty as a Hogwarts Professor to do so no matter who the student is.

After what feels like an eternity, we make our way to my door. I whisper the password and the door swings open, revealing the inside of my personal quarters.

I quickly turn on the lights and lead Potter to sit on my couch.

"Stay here," I murmur to him, and rush off the find the needed supplies.

I return minutes later, and even in my short absence, Potter looks worse.

He complexion is paler, and his breathing is more shallow. He is just about closing his eyes when I shake him awake.

His eyes fly open with a start, and he immediately shies away from me.

Heyo! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Just a heads up that this is my own, original story, so I have things a little differently than in the book. I'm just sorta doing my own thing so don't worry if thing are little wrong or not like the books! Anyway let me know what you guys think! I hope to maybe have the next chapter up soon! I appreciate you guys always! - Mack