Shit

Only Snape could have guessed it. No matter, he could still get out of this. "It's for extra-protection s-sir,' he hated the way he stuttered when he got nervous, he thought he had dropped the habit.

'From who?'

'A-a friend, sir' It wasn't exactly the truth, but close.

'Why are you lying to me Potter?' Snape's voice was still dangerously smooth, not waiting for an answer,' Take it off.'

'N-no.' Harry backed up; he definitely did not want to do that, especially around this man. His eyes flicked between the door and back to the potion master.

But any thoughts of trying to do another runner were dashed as the rather tall and sinister man had planted himself in-between him and the door. Why couldn't Snape just leave him alone? He didn't ask to be who he was.

'Allow me to …rephrase that Potter, take it off or I shall remove it.'

Harry looked up, fear rising in his chest. He continued to move back, unsure of just how much force the man was willing to use. The man stepped forward a little and began to draw his wand. Seeing Snape's actions however, some thing clicked in Harry, a lesson learned over many years: Disobedience meant punishment. Hating Snape for what he was doing and hating himself even more, he began to pull the chain over his head.

…..

The only reaction Severus made was a sharp intake of breath. It was all he could do; this was not what he had been expecting. He was totally shocked by the horrific bruising and damage that appeared all over the child's body as soon as the amulet came off.

The child in question was trembling, his arms wrapped round his middle and staring at the floor. He could feel the disgust, self-loathing coming from him. And something else, fear?

'What happened Potter?' He asked softly, careful not use his trademark sneer by habit.

'I-I got jumped sir,' Snape didn't needed his legilimens skills to tell he was lying, Potter's body language made it perfectly clear.

'Do not lie to me boy.' The child flinched, and began to tremble harder.

'Try again. The truth this time.' But the boy just shook his head and mumbled under his breath. Snape decided to opt for something that usually got through in these cases.

'Put on your shirt Potter, you need to go to the infirmary.' The child looked up, horrified at the suggestion, backing up further.

'N-n-no, I'm fine, I, it, n-no please.' This with a beseeching look on his face.

'Potter you are bleeding, covered in bruises and you need help.'

'No, please. You don't understand, please.' There was panic in his voice now. The difference between the child before him and Potter with his amulet on astounded Severus. The boy was pleading with him, not something Potter would dream of doing.

'Fine, if you don't want Madame Pomfrey to examine you then I will.' He began to move forward. Apparently this didn't appeal to the boy either, who just moved away trying to keep the distance between them. Snape stopped; he needed to gain the boy's trust or at least permission, or this was going to be traumatic for him. He doubted the child had much say when what ever happened to him took place.

'Your choice. Infirmary or here.'

…..

Harry slumped his shoulders in defeat and then winced at the pain the movement brought on. There was no way out, all he could do was comply, though he really didn't like the idea of leaving himself at Snape's mercy. He couldn't deal with the thought of more people finding out, that was sure to happen if he saw the school matron. First her, than Dumbledore and the list would grow longer until the information leaked to the press.
He could see it now: 'Boy-who-lived couldn't save himself, how can he save us?' He could think of more than one reporter who would have an absolute field day.

He didn't want people's pity and scorn. Slowly he nodded his head.

'I take it you have chosen the latter?' He nodded again, despising how weak he was. He looked away and balled his fisted as Snape moved toward him, hoping it wouldn't hurt too much.

…..

Severus moved forward, experience telling him not to be sudden or use abrupt motions. Slowly he held out his hand palm up, just as he had early that evening, waiting for Potter's arm. On receiving it he began, using the small amount of medical he had gained in the many years he had been a spy. Of course his most frequent patient was himself.

He was amazed the child was still functioning.

He quickly worked his way up both arms which were covered in cuts of some sort though they didn't look self-inflicted, and moved on to his back, which was a disaster to say the least. It was covered in welts, abrasions and bruises to the extent that not much skin showed through. Potter was so malnourished, he could see his ribs, some of which were at odd angles. Gently he probed each wound checking for infection or other problems.

Potter stood tense as he did it, flinching every time he touched him. He was careful to keep a grip on one arm at all times, just in case.

...m

Harry couldn't understand it, the man was being gentle, not trying to hurt him and even muttering an apology when he pushed to hard on a sore spot. Was Snape actually trying to help him?

As the hands moved further down his back however, he wasn't so sure. He attempted to breathe deeper, which only worsened things as his ribs ached on every inhalation, making his breathe become shallow and fast as he tried to breath without disturbing his ribs more. But when Snapes' hands moved even lower, memories began flooding his mind. He couldn't let it happen again, he wouldn't, desperately he fought down his panic, but it was a losing battle…

The hands throw him roughly to the floor, he tried to move away but that only brought on another round of abuse, blows landed on his face and ribs and other extremities. Suddenly it stopped, Harry looked up only to see the man slowly undoing his belt moving toward him. Harry moved away instinctively, he knew what was coming.

'You worthless boy, keep still' The man hissed.

He felt his clothing being ripped away…

…..

Severus moved on to Potter's lower back, he was careful to keep a tight reign on his emotions, trying to keep down the anger that was boiling through him. How could some one do this a child? But he had long learnt from experience that there was no answer to that question.

He snapped out of thought as he realised Potter was hyperventilating. He could feel the pain and fear pouring off the boy, probably because his senses were heightened from the repeated legilimency he had done all evening. Did the child still think that he was out to hurt him? But it became clear that the said child was having some sort of attack as he collapsed, Snape barely catching him in time to lower him on to the ground.

The child jerked and thrashed weakly, mumbling inaudibly under his breath, Severus wanted to help but was mindful at what happened last time he had attempted to touch the boy when he was like this. But not coming up with a solution, he abandoned all caution as the thrashing got worse. He knelt down and grasped the boy's shoulders and gently shook him.

'Potter, wake up Potter.' He didn't seem to be getting through.

'Pot-Harry come child, Harry…'

...z

Harry was vaguely aware of someone calling him through the fog of memories in his head. He concentrated on it, hoping it it would help him get out of his own mind. The voice sounded concerned; idly he wondered who it was as feeling started to return to him. Damn it was cold...

His eyes snapped open instantly as he realised someone was holding him by the shoulders. He met two onyx eyes but a mask seemed to cover them almost instantly, hiding whatever emotion they had held. He looked away, humiliation and self-disgust near overwhelming, as he waited for the snide,biting comments but they didn't come.

...z

Severus looked at the boy trembling before him as the fit passed. Potter really thought he wanted to hurt him. He felt something for the youth, he wasn't sure what though. The child had been put through something terrible, something he couldn't cope with on his own.

'Potter.' He called softly, but when the boy continued to look away. He gently lifted the boy's chin with his forefinger and thumb. 'Look at me.' Slowly the child obeyed, one eye half swollen shut and varying shades of purple.

'I am not going to hurt you. Ever. Do you understand?' A slow and pained nod, but not much conviction. Satisfied for the moment Snape stood, gracefully unfolding his tall frame, which only caused Potter to cringe away.

Inwardly he sighed, it was going to take some time to heal this kind of hurt, so he made some quick decisions.

….

Harry was by this time confused, tired, sore and suspicious. What did the man want from him? The teacher who had shown him nothing but hate, scorn and spite for the last five years was all of a sudden being nice, well maybe not nice but not malicious. What was going on?

'Potter, you will come back on Thursday evening, same time, I will find a reasonable excuse.' Harry bowed his head resignedly, he knew exactly what Snape's 'reasonable excuse' would be. He snapped back to attention when he realised the man was still speaking.

'…Get dressed and you may go.' Again the voice held no ill will, but nothing positive either.

'You won't tell anyone?' He asked suspiciously. 'Not for the moment.'

Quickly he did as he was told, near running out the door, beyond relieved to get away.

By the time he got through the portrait hole and into bed -stopping only to exchange a minimal amount of words with Ron and Hermione as to why he was so late- he was exhausted. He lay on his bed, the hangings drawn, feeling totally drained and apathetic, he simply had no energy to feel. He would deal with everything tomorrow, now he needed sleep.