Author's note: dear reader, i'm sorry for not updating sooner, and i know this chapter is barely anything, but pls, i am suffering severely from a thing called life, so spare me! the next chapter will be sufficiently long and will come sooner, so, enjoy! :)
"Potter, Potter- Harry… Can you hear me?" It was the first time he had called him by his first name, but at this time it really didn't matter. Harry remained unresponsive and so, Severus decided to check him for injuries.
He flourished his wand, casting a diagnosis spell on the boy and stood there for a few moments, expecting a short one page list of his past injuries. Instead what he got was a long 2-foot parchment, filled on both sides. "What the-? In just fifteen years?" Severus thought to himself, skimming through the list. "At least ten broken bones, torn almost every ligament in his body, two concussions-! Is he a stunt double as part time?" Severus continued to read through the list.
"Bruised ribs, twisted ankles… deep cuts at his back? Possibly caused by- oh no, no, no." he dropped the parchment on the floor, flicking his wand to turn the boy on his stomach. He lifted robes off his back and- dear lord! It can't be true.
Littering the chosen one's back were scars, both old and new, a few distinctly resembling the shape which Severus knew very well, having seen them on his own body- the belt buckle. Suddenly, everything made sense.
How small the boy was for his age, the slight humbleness in his character, his unfinished summer assignments, how the fame overwhelmed him instead of getting to his head, how he tried his best to resemble his father, because that is what everyone wanted, and Harry Potter had spent his entire life keeping people happy, losing the real him in the mess.