Thoughts: 'Blah. Blah. Blah."

Flashback: Blah. Blah. Blah. ( [END]FLASHBACK before/after them)

Hedwig: "Blah. Blah. Blah."

Parseltongue: {Blah. Blah. Blah.}

Letters/Articles/Writing: Blah. Blah. Blah.

Prologue

Severus, Lucius, and Harry made their way to courtroom 3 to what could potentially be Harry's ticket out of hell. He has been anticipating and dreading this day since Lucius told Harry the Dursleys were finally going to face the consequences of their actions. He had spent the week with the Malfoys, Severus, and Mr. Tiddles going over everything that was potentially going to happen during the trial. He knows he's going to have to speak out against the Dursleys and that scares him more than he'll admit. Even if he hasn't seen them since the beginning of the school year and there is no way they are going to win the trial, he still has to face them.

As they get closer to the courtroom, Severus realizes that Harry is shaking ever so slightly. He places a hand on his shoulder and he flinches violently. It's a testament to how much this is affecting him. He thought that they had broken him of that habit, at least to that scale. Severus waves off Lucius and the attorney before turning Harry to face him. He crouches in front of Harry and gives him a soft look.

"Harry, everything is going to be alright. There is no way they can reach you in this room. You are safe." Snape reassures as he brushes Harry's hair from his face paternally.

"I didn't realize this was going to be so hard. Until now it just seemed like a dream, and now it's just so real. I'm overwhelmed." Harry replies, wide-eyed.

"I know this is hard, but a weight will be lifted off your shoulders when they are no longer a part of your life. Every step you've taken, everything you've done, has been for this moment. The fear you are feeling will all be worth it." Severus says with a faraway look in his eyes. "Trust me, I know."

Severus snaps back to reality to see Harry with a pensive look on his face.

"Are you ready now?" Snape looks Harry in the eye as he speaks.

"Yes, just… Can I have a hug?" Harry inquires timidly, fearing rejection.

Severus' eyes widen ever so slightly before a small smile curves at his lips. He opens his arms slowly and Harry throws himself into his embrace. Severus squeezes his arms tightly around the small boy before pulling away and standing, taking a step back.

"I'm ready now." Harry takes his place by Severus' side, pausing and tilting his head slightly to look at the Potions Master out of the corner of his eye. He can't help but wonder if Severus would mind if he grabs his hand for reassurance. After a brief internal debate, he makes his decision. He takes his teacher's hand and Severus squeezes it, the small gesture giving him the strength he so desperately needs to walk into the courtroom.

They take the last few steps up to the imposing wooden door to the courtroom. As they stop in front of it, the doors creak open, revealing the room within.

As they enter, the first thing Harry notices is the odd setup of the courtroom.

There are six sets of stands placed around the large room. Two of the stands are obviously for family and witnesses, one side for Harry, and the other for the Dursleys. These stands are to the left and right of the entranceway. The other four stands are larger, and Harry sees a wide assortment of Witches and Wizards sitting in them, who Lucius had informed him was the Wizengamot, the people who will be deciding his fate in the near future. Between the two sets of Wizengamot stands on the side of the room opposite to the entrance sits a large, ornate wooden podium. There are viewing boxes placed at each corner of the room. And, in the very center of courtroom three lies the very thing that Harry has been dreading most about this day: The courtroom pensive. From what Harry's been told, memories from his childhood will be extracted from him and deposited into the pensive so they can be seen by all attendees. Having all of his trauma out there for the world to see is not what Harry would define as comfortable. There are two small sitting boxes, one on each side of the pensive. This is where people who are called to the stand will sit, the defense on the right and the prosecution on the left. The entire setup is a lot to take in, the lighting in the room making the furnishings seem all the more grand and otherworldly.

He quickly schools his expression, concealing his wonderment. He makes his way to the center of the room, painfully aware that every occupant's gaze is fixed securely on him. He takes a quick look around the room, surveying the group of people who now hold his fate in their hands. During this survey, Harry sees the one thing, or rather, one person, who never fails to send his heart racing and his anxiety crashing through the roof. As he meets Vernon's eyes, he makes a decision. He won't allow the Dursleys to push him around anymore. He will not let them see his fear. He scrounges up every ounce of Slytherin conviction he can muster and holds Vernon's gaze with cold, steely eyes. Vernon's face turns an all too familiar shade of red at Harry's blatant defiance, and Harry has to fight every instinct he has that tells him to look away. He will not break, he will not give in; Not on this.

After a few more moments, Vernon breaks their staring match, sending a victorious feeling shooting up Harry's spine. However, this victory is short-lived. Vernon, still standing, takes a step toward Harry, his menacing gaze still refusing to meet his.

"Boy! What have you done?! I know this is your fault, you ungrateful little freak!" As he is speaking, Vernon is simultaneously stalking his way toward Harry, who is making a valiant effort to ignore the frantic beating of his heart and stand his ground. Vernon has clearly forgotten where he is. After all, he never was the brightest match in the box.

Unknown to Vernon, or even Harry for that matter, the walrus of a man has struck a nerve in Severus. When he hears Vernon call Harry a freak, he can't help but recall the treatment he had received as a boy. The word "freak" reverberates in his mind, bouncing off his pain and trauma and inciting an uncontainable rage to boil through his veins, sending an angry heat rocketing throughout his body. As such, Severus takes a few menacing steps forward, stepping in front of Harry and blocking him from Vernon's view.

"Mr. Dursley! You will take your seat. Now! Or I guarantee you will live to regret it." Severus lets a smirk slip onto his face, reveling in the terror that washes across Vernon's previously enraged features. Vernon quickly takes a seat with a mild glare at the darkly dressed man.

The last group of people enters the courtroom just in time to hear Vernon's last biting remark and Severus' sharp rebuttal, exchanging looks that aren't exactly promising for the Dursley family. Landon Hayes, the Dursley's attorney, feels a sinking feeling in his gut at the horrified looks being exchanged. Luckily, it is only the Wizengamot in the room due to the… sensitivity of the case, the topic, and the victim.

Harry and Severus finally sit in their own seats, the Malfoy family right behind them for support. The Minister, Cornelius Fudge, enters the room, sitting in the Chief Warlock's seat. The occupants are confused by the Minister's placement considering that's usually Dumbledore's seat (he is particularly protective of it), who currently isn't in the room; He's always the last to enter a room.

"If everyone could please find their seats, we can begin." The Minister calls to the collected crowd. He then gestures to the door, "Auror Shacklebolt, if you wou-" the man is interrupted as Dumbledore steps into the room, looking slightly disheveled.

"Minister, sorry I am late. My notification must've gotten misplaced." Dumbledore says as he makes his way toward the center seat.

"I'm sorry Headmaster but you can not preside over the case." A feminine voice interjects. Amelia Bones, head of the DMLE, stands from her seat; Her plum-colored robes swish from her movements. "Seeing as you placed the boy with his relatives, you are not permitted to oversee the trial. It is a conflict of interest."

Dumbledore looks shocked at the news before he schools his features, a placating smile crossing his face with that infernal twinkle appearing in his eyes, "My dear girl, I assure you-"

"No, Mr. Dumbledore. It is against the law. As a matter of fact, your notification did not get misplaced as you never had one in the first place. It is not acceptable for you to show up here because it is quite known that you placed the boy with this family who is now on trial for abuse." Amelia argues. As she finishes speaking the doors slam and seal on their own, glowing as the magic settles. The seal soundproofs the room and keeps it sealed until a verdict is officially reached and the trial ended. "Seeing as the room has been sealed, if you would please take an empty seat, Mr. Dumbledore."

Dumbledore is internally fuming, 'How dare she speak to me that way!' However, there is no outward reaction. The smile never leaves his face as he takes a seat, but anyone paying attention can see the ever present twinkle leave his eyes.

"We are here today for the case of Mr. Potter vs The Dursley Family." The Minister begins. "Mr. Potter claims the Dursley family has abused him emotionally, verbally, and physically since the time he was placed in their care on November 1, 1981, to the Summer of 1991. Opposing his claim the Dursleys have stated he is a problem child, who needs a firm hand, and a pathological liar. Mr. Potter is represented by Attorney Mark Tiddles with the Dursley family represented by Attorney Landon Hayes." The minister finishes with a nod at Harry's party.

"Thank you, Minister." Tiddles says with a nod of respect. "Ladies and gentlemen of the Wizengamot, we are here today for the justice of our young hero who suffered at the hands of his relatives for 10 long years. He was oppressed under their so-called care, being verbally flayed, intellectually repressed, and physically beaten for their own amusement; Neglected in the worst possible way. Starved of food and touch by people who should have cared for him all those years." The man is built to speak to audiences as his words enthrall the listeners. As he sits down, his colleague stands and begins his own speech.

"Good afternoon esteemed members of the Wizengamot. Today we are not here for the justice of a boy who cries wolf, but to clear a family who was trying to raise a troublesome child out of the goodness of their hearts, with no compensation to speak of. Every parent disciplines their children, and some children need to be punished a little harsher than others. Mr. Potter is such a child. The Dursleys are merely punishing a troublesome youth who has exaggerated events." Hayes finishes, hating himself with every word. At this point Harry is crying and barely refraining from spouting denials, understanding that this is the man's job and he doesn't mean anything by it.

After Hayes returns to his seat, Tiddles stands and approaches the center of the room. "We would like to submit Harry's memories of his abuse as evidence," As the Minister nods, he continues. "We will be drawing the memories now, as to prove they have not been tampered with. If you could provide four vials." An Auror approaches the prosecutor's table and places the aforementioned vials on the table. Mark turns towards Harry and begins to explain the process of copying a memory. "I need you to think about a specific event you would like to share, concentrate on a single event. When I put my wand to your head and pull away you may feel a slight tugging sensation. It should not hurt but if you feel any pain, tell me immediately."

The attorney places his wand at Harry's head after he nods. He proceeds to slowly pull the crafted wood away from it, a small tendril of light following behind. He places the memory in one of the vials before turning back to him and repeating the process three more times. He hands the vials back to the auror to test for authenticity, who waves his wand over them, muttering a spell under his breath. They all briefly glow green and are promptly handed back to the Malfoy attorney. "Harry, I would like you to tell us how old you were in each memory." He walks to the pensieve (this particular pensieve is only found in very old families and courtrooms because it projects the memories above them, allowing large crowds to watch) pouring the liquid-like substance into the bowl. As the bowl is tapped, a light floats over the podium it sits on and the lights in the courtroom dim.

"I was 7 here." Harry pipes up, his voice a little shaky as the Dursley's kitchen comes into view.

Memory

Harry was cooking lunch for the Durselys, his little arms hovering (surrounded by a grey mist) over the pans on the stove. They were covered in dirt because he had been working in the gardens that morning. The sound of a mail slot shifting sounded in the background.

"Boy, get the mail!" Vernon yelled from the living room. Harry glanced in the direction of the door then back to the stove warily. He would have to make it to the door and back before the food burned or he would be in trouble.

He set down the spatula before rushing toward the door and picking up the mail. He handed it to his aunt when he didn't see his uncle and hastened to the kitchen. He felt dread filling his body as he saw his uncle standing next to a smoking stove.

"BOY! You burnt the food, what do you have to say for yourself?!" Vernon inquired angrily.

"I'm sorry uncle. I was trying to get the mail like you asked." Harry timidly replies. Harry chanced a glance at his uncle and realized his mistake, his uncle's face somehow growing redder than before.

"So, it's my fault, is it?" Harry's eyes widened. He began to stutter out denials and apologies, but he knew that it was useless. His uncle began to advance on him, "I'll show you, boy. Remove your shirt, turn around and place your hands on the wall."

Harry hesitated for a second in his confusion before complying. He could hear the TV chattering in the background and his uncle's heavy breathing behind him. He trembled slightly against the wall. Usually, his uncle just knocked him around a bit before tossing him back in his cupboard.

He let out a yelp as a sharp pain shot across his back. He peeked over his shoulder to see his uncle's belt flying at him again. He felt the belt connect eight more times before his uncle tired. He could feel blood dripping down as he got up, having slipped to the floor halfway through.

"Go to your room, boy, and don't even think about coming out until you're told."

End Memory

As the memory fades, a blue water-like image hovers over the pensieve, indicating the memory has ended. Around the courtroom, the members of the Wizengamot are glaring harshly at the Dursleys, including their own attorney. (They all recognized the grey mist that clung to the boy in the memory, he had Aura Sight. People with magical abilities are even more treasured because they are slowly dying out, making Harry even more special.) Severus is holding onto a sobbing Harry who has burrowed into his side after the first hit. He knew that watching these memories was going to be hard for the child, he just didn't realize how hard. Harry feels Draco's hand move to his shoulder and he feels a wave of reassurance and calm wash over him. He takes a deep breath and composes himself slightly. He's still crying, but not as heavily as before. He sends a wave of gratitude back to Draco, not really expecting it to work, but he is pleasantly surprised when he feels Draco squeeze his shoulder affectionately.

The Malfoy family attorney removes the memory and places it back into its vial. He then retrieves the next one and removes the cork with a soft pop, pouring the flowing memory into the bowl. Severus gently prods Harry who briefly looks at the memory before turning back to Severus. "I was 9."

Memory

Harry was finishing the gardening, his last chore before he had to make dinner. He knew he had a few minutes left before he was made to come inside. Fortunately, he only had one more plant box and he was done for the night. 'Spoke too soon.' He winced as he heard his aunt's shrill shriek from the door.

"You useless little freak. You couldn't finish a simple task. No wonder your parents went and got themselves killed. You had better be finished with dinner before Vernon gets home or you'll be sorry!" Petunia screeched before slamming the door. Tears gathered in his eyes as his aunt closed the door, falling slowly down his cheeks. You would think after years of this kind of treatment he would be used to verbal assaults at his person.

End Memory

The memory fades as it ends, leaving the females in the room with tears in their eyes. To imagine a child being treated in such a way is heartbreaking, but to see it actually happen, through memory or not, is gut-wrenching. They are meant to be cherished, and the small child curled into the Potions Master has been treated so horribly by people who were supposed to love him. They dread the next memory.

"I was 6 in this."

Memory

Harry was vacuuming the carpet near the top of the stairs. He was only required to clean the inside today because it was storming out. His aunt claimed she didn't want mud tracked through the house.

He heard Dudley's lumbering footsteps behind him, and a few moments later he felt a hand on his back, his world tilting soon after. He tumbled down the stairs, the image spinning before he landed painfully at the bottom of the staircase. Pain registered in his mind and a quick glance showed his right arm and a couple of fingers on both hands bent at awkward angles.

He watched in awe as the grey mist, which usually was dormant, almost danced across his injured body. It condensed at the broken part of his appendages and other places on his body before a pop echoed through the foyer. The pain slowly faded and his limbs were all in the right direction. Then, the mist settled back into its dormant state once again.

Petunia, who had stood and watched the whole event happen, had a horrified look on her face. Harry believed it was because Dudley had pushed him down the stairs but that belief was quickly broken when she opened her mouth.

"You little freak!" she screeched. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything, auntie. There was a mist and then they fixed themselves. I didn't do nothing, I swear!" He pleaded with her.

"Of course you did! Who else could have done it? Are you calling me a liar?" She shot back with incredulity in her voice. She stomped over to her nephew before pulling him off the floor and dragging him to his cupboard. "You will not come out of here until your uncle gets home, he will deal with you." She finished with finality in her tone before throwing Harry into the cupboard.

The memory went dark for a few minutes and then almost blurred before it brightened again as the cupboard door opened to the red face of Harry's uncle. The audience watched as Vernon beat his nephew and he was thrown back into the cupboard.

His magic didn't heal him this time.

End Memory

The courtroom plunges into darkness as the cupboard door slams shut and the sound of a little boy's cries fades as he drifts to sleep. The audience watches as, over what they were informed was the next three days, the child was brought a single glass of water and was let out once a day to use the bathroom, timed for two minutes (as Petunia's voice so helpfully supplied).

As the swirling blue water-like image appears again, the Dursley's lawyer glances around the room. Every face in the room is a picture of fury. Based on Harry's reaction to his magic, this was the first accidental magic he experienced and remembered. The fact that he was punished for it, and his magic did not attempt to heal him after his uncle's beating, showed he was trying to suppress it; This is very dangerous because it could cause an obscurus to develop. Not to mention, most pureblood families never had more than two children, the Weasleys being one obvious exception.

As he watches the Malfoy's attorney place the final memory in the pensieve, a stray thought pops into his head. 'I was already regretting taking this case and now I wish I could just walk out.' Once again the lights dim and the memory starts as he hears a soft "I was 5 here" from his left.

Memory

It was the end of the first month at school and Harry was excited to show his aunt his shapes test and the drawings he made during class. He saw the rug in the classroom waiting for his aunt to come and get him and Dudley.

"Dudley, Harry. your ride is here." Miss Clawfield called out. Dudley rushed up, pushing Harry back down before running out of the classroom. Harry sighed before standing and following at a more sedate pace; He knew they weren't supposed to run.

When he stepped out he saw his teacher talking to his aunt about what they did this week and showing Harry and Dudley's tests. His aunt was smiling when she saw Dudley's but when she looked at Harry's, her smile became strained. The teacher gave the papers to his aunt before she walked away. Petunia grabbed Dudley's hand before completely ignoring Harry and walking away.

He ran to catch up and hopped into the backseat with Dudley. His Aunt started the car and peeled out of the parking lot. The ride was quiet except for the sound coming from Dudley's handheld game he got for his birthday.

When they stepped into the house, Aunt Petunia went to the kitchen for Dudley's after-school snack. Harry took the papers out of his backpack and excitedly asked, "Did you see my shapes test aunt 'Tunia. I got all of them right and the teacher gave me two pieces of candy cause I did. Everyone else got candy too, but me and Brian and Alice got one more because we got all of them right." Harry ranted slightly before naming the shapes on his paper. At least that's what he was doing before he was cut off by a sharp sting.

He raised his hand to his cheek as tears welled in his eyes. He looked up to see his aunt with a livid look on her face and her hand in the air. "You probably took Dudley's paper and put your name on it. My Dudders would never do so badly on an assignment. Do you think it's funny making my Duddy-kins look stupid? You'll stay in your cupboard this weekend and don't bother asking to come out" She dragged her to the door before tossing a man locking the door aggressively.

Harry started crying as the door closed. He was glad that he hadn't shown the picture now because it was definitely better than Dudley's and he didn't want her to tear it up like she did his shapes page.

He turned on the light and pulled the picture out of his bag. On the paper, there were two people, a red-haired female and a dark-haired male with glasses. Dancing behind them were colored bubbles coming from a stick in the man's hand. He didn't know who they were but he was told to draw something happy and this memory filled him with warmth.

He looked around the small space and found a small box of thumbtacks in there. Grabbing two of them, he pinned the image on the wall, right under the "Harry's Room" that was crudely written in black crayon.

End Memory

The spectators in the room stare in shock at the words written on the wall and the image the child had drawn. The rough drawing of the boy's parents was easily recognizable, as most of the people in the room had gone to school with them. The man's glasses and the woman's fiery red hair were a trademark of the two.

A witch or wizard's memory is better than muggle memory, but they know the most likely reason he had been able to draw that with the details included was that he was so young and it had been too long.

Severus gives the boy in his arms a squeeze as he stares at the image that is slowly fading from the pensive. He can feel the small, but thankfully healthier, body tremble and the tears on his shirt. He glances around the room, seeing the Wizengamot's shocked looks quickly transform into expressions of anger as the memory fades completely. Their lawyer clears his throat, "Now we would also like to turn your attention to the folders that are floating to you now. In each one is a complete medical scan from Mr. Potter performed by medi-wizard Severus Snape, who received his license as a requirement for his Potions Master qualification, along with Muggle child service claims and testimony from neighbors and two of Harry's past teachers."

Full Medical History Exam

Healer/MediWich/Wizard Name: Severus Tobias Snape

Patient Name: Harry James Potter-Black

Date Performed: December 12, 1991

Accumulative Injuries and Ailments (Newborn-12 years):

Improperly healed breaks- left arm, right leg, various digits

Cracked ribs

Scars- back, upper legs, arms, forehead

Multiple Concussions

Diaper rash

Bruises

Poor eyesight

Burns

Malnourished

Missing: All immunizations after 18 months- magical and muggle*

*Muggle Immunizations applies to Muggle-born/raised wich/wizard

"As you can see, Harry has had a multitude of injuries since he was placed with the Dursleys at the age of one and a half." Attorney Tiddles says to the crowd. "Some of them can be written off as typical injuries for a child, but the multitude of scars and incorrectly healed bones indicate a much deeper problem. Now, if I could direct your attention to the statement from the Muggle Social Services. For those who may not know, they evaluate a claim of child abuse and remove the child from the home if they find the claim is true. The investigations, however, didn't turn up anything and the claim was retracted. Each time, the person who submitted the claim had mysteriously moved from the area." He pointed out. "The two teachers who made the claims were later found in a different city at a different school after being transferred. There's also a woman from the grocery store the Dursleys frequent. She says that Harry started showing up at the store around 9 years old and had been shopping for a small family. When she asked where his family was, he said and I quote, 'My auntie is just in the car, she wasn't feeling well and sent me in for the shopping.' This may seem like a viable response, however, as she watched the child leave the building, he walked out of the parking lot and down the street, no car or guardian in sight." He finishes before Sitting with a nod toward the minister.

Hayes sighs as his competitor sits down, wishing to be anywhere but in this courtroom. It would seem his clients have lied to him and he regrets taking this case. So, with great reluctance, he stands up.

"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen of the Wizengamot." Hayes closes his eyes, pushing away his personal feelings, schooling his expression into one of complete professionalism. "In this courtroom today we have been presented with the memories of a troubled young boy, memories which the prosecution are attempting to pass off as admissible evidence in a court of law. Now, may I bring your attention to the adjectives I have used to describe Mister Potter: Troubled and young." Hayes pauses, letting his eyes roll over the occupants of the courtroom, his gaze lingering for a moment of the shaking figure of Harry Potter. He feels waves of regret and disgust flow through him at the thought of the pain he is about to put this young boy, the savior of the Wizarding World, through with his next words.

"It has been scientifically proven, both in the Muggle and Wizarding Worlds, that a child's ability to accurately process memories does not fully develop until around the age of seven, sometimes later. What we have been shown today proves that Mister Potter is thoroughly disciplined, however, due to the early age at which these memories were formed, there is no telling how exaggerated they may be. I have three children at home, and I know from personal experience that exaggeration is a universal language for children at this age."

"Mister Hayes, are you suggesting that Mister Potter is lying?" The Minister interjects, leaning forward in his seat, his gaze piercing and unrelenting. Once again, Hayes has the overwhelming urge to say to hell with his job. He knows the Dursleys are guilty, and he knows that this boy has legitimately suffered at the hands of his magic-hating relatives. It's written all over Harry's body, from the way he is hunched over himself protectively, to the barely contained flinch he gave when the word "lying" came out of the Minister's mouth. The only thing that keeps Hayes from taking back his words and advocating for the prosecution is the looks he observes on each Wizengamot member's face. Looks of horror, disbelief, and rage are all that he sees when he sweeps his eyes across the room, and just like that, he knows that there is nothing he can say that will move the sentencing in the Dursleys favor, and Hayes couldn't be happier.

"No, Minister, of course not. I am merely pointing out that these memories cannot be taken as absolute fact; Not because Mister Potter is purposely holding back information or bending the truth, but because his ability to process and store memories was not yet fully developed at the time these memories took place."

"Noted; Please continue."

Hayes nods, considering his next course of action and debating on whether or not to continue. In his opinion, what's the use in delaying the inevitable? He quickly decides that he has nothing left to say. "Actually, Minister, that will be all." Hayes spares a glance at the Dursleys, noticing the murderous look on Vernon Dursley's face. He quickly turns back to address the court one last time. "Minister, ladies and gentlemen of the Wizengamot, I thank you for your time." Hayes nods and goes to reclaim his seat, knowing that he has done the right thing in the end. Harry Potter deserves to have a family who will love him for who he is, not punish him for it. He's done the right thing, he knows it. Consequences be damned.

"Very well; We will now put up the Privacy bubble for the sentencing. Please, do not move from your seats while we speak. Thank you." The Minister says before waving his wand. Harry sees a white shimmering wall surrounding the stands, separating the ground floor from the upper seating.

Harry turns in his seat beginning a discussion with Draco about what they want to do this summer. About 15 minutes later the white wall cascades down and just about every member of The Wizengamot has a satisfied look on their face. Every member except Dumbledore, that is. The headmaster's face is sour and anger dances in his eyes.

"For the abuse and neglect of an heir to an Ancient and Noble House (part of the Sacred 28), Wizengamot found you, the Dursley family, guilty. Vernon Dursley will be facing 5 years in muggle prison and 2 years probation. Petunia Dursley nee Evans will be facing 1 year in muggle prison and 6 months probation. Finally, Dudley Dursley, will be placed in a boy's home for troubled children and then returned to his mother after the terms of her sentencing. Custody of Heir Harry James Potter-Black is given to Lord Prince, Severus Tobias Snape until he's proven unfit to care for the boy. This concludes the trial of Potter versus The Dursley Family. It is 4:27 pm on Monday, June 22nd, 1992. Thank you all for coming, and good day." The Minister finishes.

Harry feels excitement build up in him as he hears the news. Not only is he getting away from the Dursleys, but he also gets to live with somebody who actually cares for him. He quickly stands up and hugs Severus, squeezing him tightly.

Severus grabs Harry, pulling him up into his arms. He never knew he could care for anybody as much as he did the little boy in his arms. He has managed to burrow into his heart and Severus is happy to keep him there.

"You, ungrateful little freak! I knew I should have gotten rid of you when I had the chance." Vernon bellows as he advances toward Harry. "We took you in, out of the goodness of our hearts, and this is how you repay us? I sho-" Vernon's fuming rant is cut off by Severus.

"Somebody get this piece of filth out of my sight before there's nothing left of him." Severus spits out harshly. The Auror's drag the Dursleys from the courtroom, presumably to bring them to where they're supposed to be for transfer. "Now, as exciting as this day has been, I do believe there's a little boy's bedroom to be set up."

Harry grins at Severus's words and follows him out of the courtroom, a weight lifting off his chest with every step he takes.