Harry had been anxious the past few weeks of school for obvious reasons. He was dreading going back to the Dursleys this summer. Last summer had been one of the worst ones yet, his uncle had whipped him so hard that he still had the scars on his back.

Not to mention, Snape had been extra cruel to Harry for not paying attention in class. It was only the end of his fourth year, and he didn't know how much longer he'd be able to make it at the Dursleys in the coming years. His uncle seemed to get angrier each summer he returned like he was mad at Harry for surviving another year. How dare he live to see another summer.

"Potter!" Snape sneered, slamming his hand down on Harry's desk.

Harry was jolted from his thoughts. The entire class was looking at him, Snape must've been calling his name.

He felt his ears turn red. "Professor?"

Snape exhaled, "Our brilliant golden boy thinks himself too good to pay attention in class. Daydreaming about his summer festivities I'm sure. Just because it's the last day of class Potter doesn't mean you don't have to pay attention."

The Slytherins snickered while Ron and Hermione offered him a sympathetic smile. He tried to listen intently for the rest of the lesson, dreading the day being over.

Snape watched as Potter looked into the distance during his class. Many other students were also distracted but it bothered him that perfect Potter was ignoring his class.

He was surprised, however, that when he reprimanded Potter, he didn't so much as glare at his professor. No snide remarks, no talking back, no loathing looks. Nothing at all. What on Earth was the matter with the boy? He had never acted so uninterested before.

If anything, Snape thought he looked tired, if not slightly fearful. Perhaps all the years of fights with Voldemort were getting to the boy. Surely not though, for he seemed to be fine for the weeks following the events. Why now?

Snape shook his head, he would not waste a worry on a spoiled boy with no respect for his elders.

Harry had only been home for two days and was already black and blue. His uncle had moved him back to his cupboard as Dudley had complained about not having enough space for a growing boy like himself.

So here he was, laying in his cupboard under the stairs, crammed with his trunks and birdcage. He had let Hedwig go before he even entered the house, knowing the cruel fate awaiting her if she entered. He knew that she would find somewhere safe to reside for the summer, perhaps at Hogwarts with Hagrid.

His uncle was furious when he had opened the cage in the driveway and had dragged him inside, whipping him with the belt around his waist until Harry fell unconscious. He woke up back in his cupboard, barely able to move.

It was going to be a long summer.

Several weeks had passed and Harry had fallen into a dreadful routine, he could feel himself on the point of breaking down. He would catch glimpses of himself in the mirror. His face was hollow, his eyes dull with dark circles around them. His skin had a grayish pallor to it and he was much too thin for the labor he was doing each day. He was lucky if he got a single slice of bread every few days.

Each day he was given a list of chores. Clean the entire house, prepare three meals a day for the Dursleys, clean up after each meal, get groceries from town, mow the lawn, trim the hedges, tend the flower beds, vacuum, dust, make all the beds, do the laundry, and whatever else his aunt could think up. He found that the quicker he did his chores, the angrier she would get and hastily find more things for him to do. So he started taking his time.

At least he was able to take his shirt off while he did his outdoor chores. The neighbors all thought he was a troubled boy who went to a special school and they all thought his scars were from being beaten there. Besides, it's not like he had anything else to do.

His uncle caught him trying to do his summer homework one night and slammed his head against the wall so hard he saw stars.

Most of all, he was just exhausted. He couldn't do it anymore.

"Ah, Hagrid my boy. How are you?" Dumbledore asked, sipping his cup of tea.

"Doin al'ight sir."

During their small talk, Hedwig flew into the small cottage, nestling on Hagrid's arm.

Dumbledore furrowed his brows, "Is that Harry's owl? What is he doing here?"

Hagrid shrugged, "She usually comes to me durin' the summer. Doesn' like to be with em' nasty Dursleys."

"Every summer?" Dumbledore asked. "Isn't that a little odd?"

Hagrid shrugged, "Never really though' about it. Harry sends her here every year."

"You wanted to see me?" Snape asked, entering Albus's headquarters.

"Lemon drop?" He offered.

"No sir."

They sat down and Snape motioned for him to go on. He was a very busy man afterall.

"Yes, well my boy. I was hoping you would go check and see that Harry is alright." Dumbledore said.

"Why would I do that?"

He smiled softly, "It has come to my attention that Harry's bird doesn't spend the summers with him and I suspect perhaps not everything is as it seems at the Durselys home. It would give me peace of mind to know that he's alright there."

Snape scoffed, "I'm not going to watch Potter get treated like a prince. Have Minerva do it. Or do it yourself."

"I am much too old and Minerva is out of the country with Poppy. Please, Severus, it'll only take a few hours of your time. You don't have to speak with him, just see that he's alright."

Snape sighed, "If I must."

Snape observed Harry Potter's house for several hours before he finally saw the boy. Snape couldn't make out what he was seeing. Potter came around to the front of the house mowing the lawn, shirtless.

He was glad to see the boy was being given some chores but when he looked closer he was confused. Potter's stomach was nearly nonexistent and was barely more than skin and bones. Potter had always been scrawny and small, but this…

Something else was going on here. Perhaps he was ill. Then he turned and Snape saw Potter's back. It was littered in long white scars, all overlapping one another. Some looked much older and others were fresh, still red.

He suddenly got flashbacks of his own childhood. Being whipped and beaten by his own father. Yelled at and berated.

But no…not Harry Potter. It was impossible. He would've seen the signs before now. He had seen his fair share of abused children come into Hogwarts, and he took pride in catching them as they entered as first years. Most of them tended to be in his house, a few scattered throughout Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. But never a Gryffindor.

Snape crossed the street. Potter was just getting into fights, maybe with his cousin. Nothing more. He just had to make sure and then he could quell his guilty stomach and not think of the boy again until the Fall.

"Potter." A voice came from behind him.

The heat, it was getting to him. He's hearing things, it almost sounded like Snape's voice. He was getting delirious.

"Potter! Are you deaf?" It came again and Harry spun around. His jaw dropped as he stood face to face with his most hated professor.

"P-Professor. Whatcha doing here?"

"Articulate as always Potter." Snape said without his usual bite. "I've come to ask what on Earth is the matter with you?"

"What do you mean sir?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Have you looked in a mirror lately Potter? You look ill."

Harry blushed and looked away, "Y-yes. I wasn't feeling well last week and I'm still recovering. I'm doing better now, thanks for coming to see me but you should go now."

"What about those marks on your back?"

Harry stumbled over his words, "Fights. I get into fights with boys around the neighborhood. They like to use weapons. We roughhouse pretty hard."

Harry's eyes got wide and he felt the blood drain from his face as his uncle's car entered into the driveway. "Professor you really must go now. My uncle hates our kind."

"I'm not going anywhere until I get a truthful answer, Potter," Snape said, hands on his hips.

His uncle's purple face erupted with anger when he saw Snape standing on his perfect lawn, "What are you doing here talking to my boy? I don't want your sort around my house."

When Snape said nothing, his uncle turned towards Harry, "Did you invite him over here boy? After all I've given you, it's not enough?"

Harry shook his head quickly, "No sir. I didn't. Please."

Harry tried not to flinch as his uncle slapped a hand down on his shoulder in the way fathers do to their sons. His heart was pounding in his chest as he looked between his uncle and Snape. Vernon plastered on a big smile, "Well thanks for stopping by. We've got to get started on dinner. He'll be back to you in the Fall."

Harry squirmed slightly as his uncle's grip went tight around his shoulder. "Thanks for stopping by Professor, you should go now." Harry squeaked out.

They said nothing else as Harry was led into the house. His uncle slammed the door shut and threw Harry to the floor. He grabbed the umbrella next to the door and began slamming it against Harry's ribcage.

He held his arms around his head protectively. His uncle picked him up by his neck and slammed his head into the wall, spitting, "Don't let me ever catch one of your kid at my house again boy."

He dragged Harry up the stairs and then pushed him down. Harry felt time slow as he fell down each stair, could feel each bruise form on impact until he finally hit the bottom and fell into a blissful darkness.

He opened his eyes to a pounding headache and could see a cloaked figure standing over him. He was seeing things. Two Severus Snapes were peering down at him while simultaneously shouting at a large man in the hallway.

Harry's vision swam as he sat up slowly on his knees, holding his aching head in his hands. His brain felt too big for his skull and nausea rose in his throat. He was sure he would've thrown up if there had been anything in his stomach.

A small sob escaped from his lips as pain came back to him in waves.

"Go wait outside Harry, where are your things?" His professors voice came to him.

Harry stumbled into a standing position and managed to point at the cupboard under the stairs, "Mmm, m-my room."

He made it only a few steps out the door before he crashed against the porch railing, sitting on the top stair, leaning all his weight against the banister. Everything hurt, he couldn't focus on anything.

He coughed and managed to lean over before heaving. He was surprised when blood came out, but couldn't find it in himself to be worried as he drifted into peaceful sleep on the porch.