Chapter Four – Severus Snape, the Potion's Professor
Severus Snape, Potion's professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was confused. He was baffled by the events which had taken place within the antechamber beneath the third-floor corridor that fateful evening. He had known that Quirrell had been trying to steal the Stone, but he wouldn't have guessed, not even in his wildest dreams that his lord had returned to them. He, along with many in Wizarding Britain had assumed the Dark Lord Voldemort to have been killed by Harry Potter that Halloween night ten years ago but clearly that hadn't been the case.
His Lord was alive. The man who had opened his eyes to the Darker side of magic, opened his eyes to a whole new world of opportunities to advance not only his magic and knowledge but his potion skills as well. The man who had captured his attention when he had been an impressionable seventeen-year-old fresh out of Hogwarts. New to the adult world surrounding him. The man who had shown him a place where he could belong after living his entire life not knowing what that felt like. Severus could honestly say that he was ecstatic.
Despite what everyone thought of him; despite everyone thinking that he had seen the light, that he had turned his back on the Dark Lord the moment he had broken his promise and killed Lily Potter, Severus was still the Dark Death Eater he had always been. He never once regrated taking his Lord's Mark, nor did he really regret all the pain and suffering he had caused those who called themselves light.
Dumbledore and his Order, they weren't light. Or rather, they were not as light as they have been leading everyone to believe. It was laughable to Severus how manipulative the Light Lord actually could be. He found it ridiculous how much Dumbledore craved being in control; being seen as supreme compared to his peers. The headmaster hating anything which took the attention away from himself for any amount of time. It is why he had hated Tom Marvolo Riddle so much from the very beginning.
Young Tom Riddle, despite his deplorable muggle upbringing was a prodigy in everything he tried to accomplish. He was the most intellectual teenager many professors had ever encountered before, he was hard working, outgoing and loved helping the school in any way he could. Mostly for his own gain, but that was beside the point. Severus found it a pity that he had not been given the chance to go to school with his Lord, as it would have been a sight to behold.
fx, Dumbledore had not liked Tom Riddle in the slightest and it had only gotten worse the more praise that was heaped on the boy. Comments on how Tom Riddle was to be the next Minister in the making, how he was going to change the wizarding world for the better. Dumbledore had not taken well to the amount of prominent pureblood heirs flocking to this new figure of power and influence. He had not taken too kindly to his influence taking a major hit when it was revealed that Tom Riddle was the last living descendant of the Slytherin line.
Therefore, Dumbledore had done the only thing he could think of to prevent Tom from gathering more influence. He had begun to lie; to twist the facts of what Riddle actually wished to achieve if and when he became Minister of Magic. When Tom said one thing, Dumbledore would counter it with an argument as to the Darkness, the evil of Riddle's thoughts. He began to turn the wizarding world away from Riddle, going so far as to reject Tom from the Defence position so he wouldn't have the chance to influence any children coming through the doors of Hogwarts.
It hadn't worked as well as he had thoughts, however. Instead of the world simply moving on and forgetting all about Tom Marvolo Riddle, Heir of Slytherin, his being was ingrained in everyone's memories when he had re-emerged from the shadows as Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord. Tom Riddle hadn't lost influence as he had hoped, no, he had gained more attention from the pureblood elite and many wizard-raised half-bloods through his charismatic personality.
Riddle had created his own personal army to fight head-to-head with Dumbledore.
Dumbledore, defeater of Dark Lord Grindelwald hadn't seen this coming. He hadn't even given thought to the poor orphan gaining enough power to be able to stand on equal footing as himself, not when he held the elder wand in his hand. Not when he was the most powerful wizard in Britain at the time. He hadn't expected the once Hogwarts student to stand against him so openly in an attempt to overthrow the Ministry and Dumbledore himself through more violent means.
The headmaster hadn't meant to start a war, hadn't meant to antagonise the pureblood families to such extents that they would subjugate themselves to being marked by a Dark Lord as his servants. Though Dumbledore hadn't been privy to the true treatment of the Death Eaters by Voldemort. He didn't torture his followers, only when they had completely disregarded his orders. It was unwise for him to subject his loyal followers to the cruciatus curse or even to kill them for failing in missions which he admits setting unrealistic deadlines for. He would have no followers left within a matter of months.
Dumbledore didn't know the difference between the Elite, inner circle, outer circle, regular Death Eaters and sympathisers. He didn't know just how many other magical species, creatures and beings the Dark Lord had fighting for him. Nor how he tested the loyalty and willingness of all individuals wishing to join his ranks with a ritual circle during initiations. It was why Dumbledore found it so difficult to find a spy willing to pass on sensitive information to the Order and the Light side.
The soft sound of shuffling feet pulls Severus from his musings. Glancing up, Severus smiles when Harry walks into the living room, hair unkempt and pyjamas rumpled from sleep. The potion's professor watches in silence as Harry makes his way over to him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before slipping his glasses over his ears. Blinking bleary eyes, Harry smiles at Severus when the man pulls him into his side, smoothing out the worse of his birds' nest hair. Leaning into his professor's side, Harry curls his arm around Severus's waist with a content sigh.
"How did you sleep, Snakelet?"
"I slept very well, thank you, Sev. How about you?" Severus chuckles, tugging the child closer.
"I also slept well, Snakelet. Would you like to have some breakfast now?" Harry's stomach grumbles at the prospect of food drawing a light flush to his ears.
"Yes, please. May we have some pancakes?"
Severus stands up from his armchair, wrapping an arm around Harry's shoulders he leads his charge through to a small dining room and gestures for him to take a seat while he calls Missy to bring them some food.
"Of course, we may, Harry, but I would like for you to eat some fruits as well." Harry nods his head in understanding knowing that he is going to need to eat all the nutrients he can before he is left in the Dursleys' loving care for the first part of the summer holidays.
"I will also be giving you a nutrients potion to take with each meal from now until the end of the term and a few for you to take home with you. This will help to reduce the effects of malnutrition and starvation I no doubt suspect your relatives to employ with you Harry."
"Okay, Sev. Thank you."
"You do not need to thank me, Snakelet. I do not like the idea of sending you back to those animals, but I also know that for our plans to progress without much interference we must. I wish to ease your suffering as much as I am able while you are under their care."
Harry chokes up a little with Severus's confession. Never before has he had an adult willing to help him so much when he is with his relatives, normally when people found out about his treatment under the Dursleys' care they would brush it off or simply put it down to Harry himself seeking attention and harming himself in an attempt to gain it. His teachers mainly thought he was a delinquent and a liar anyway.
"Thank you, Sev." He can't help but repeat, his voice soft as he chews the pancakes Severus places on his plate for him, a small bowl of mixed fruits landing near his plate alongside the promised nutrients potions. A tear escapes.
"You are most welcome, Snakelet. Now, what would you like to do after breakfast?"
"Do I have to stay in bed?" Harry counters, glancing between his food and Severus who smiles down at him shaking his head.
"No, you do not have to stay in bed, Harry. As long as you rest up, we may do anything you wish to do."
Harry chews another mouthful of pancakes expression thoughtful as he contemplates what he would like to spend his time doing. Glancing down at his plate before surreptitiously looking through his fringe at Severus who is busy eating his own breakfast to notice his stare.
"Are you busy today, Severus?"
Severus pauses at Harry's use of his full name, eyebrows scrunching up as he gazes down at the child seated opposite him at the dining table. Taking in his hands fidgeting with the cutlery, green eyes flickering around the room so as to avoid his own gaze, Severus nods in understanding.
"I have no plans currently, now, would you like to do something together, Snakelet?" Harry looks up at Severus, eyes widening at the question, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He nods eagerly.
"Yes, please."
"Alright. I believe I have a chess set around here somewhere. Would you like to play a game?"
"I'm not very good though." Harry admits, stuffing the last of his breakfast in his mouth before he swallows the potion. Washing it all down at a glass of milk which Severus insisted on to help his bones strengthen, he hopes it would help prevent any more broken bones from his cousin but he doubted it.
"That is alright, Snakelet. I could teach you, if you would like or we could find something else to do?"
"No, I want to play. You don't mind teaching me? Weasley tried before and I was rubbish."
"Yes, well Mister Weasley is a blundering dunderhead who could explain the difference between a pewter cauldron and a lead one, so I am not surprised his teaching fell short, Harry. I on the other hand, used to play with your father when he was in a relaxed mood. He taught me a few things."
"Really? He must be really good then." Harry jumps down from the table, gripping Severus's offered hand as he is led back through to the living room, this time taking a seat on one of the plush armchairs, sinking down into the cushion while Severus walks off to fetch his chess set. Returning a moment later with a very elegant looking wizarding chess set.
"Alright Harry let us begin."
Severus begins by explaining each piece on the board, where they can move and how they can move. He explains the basic goal of the game to Harry suggesting that they play through a game so Harry can ask any questions he wished about the game, it gave Severus the chance to show Harry how to make some moves in order to fool his opponent. It wasn't until halfway through their second game when Harry chews on his lip, playing with one of the pawns he had taken from Severus.
"Sev, what was my mum like in school?"
Severus pauses, hand stilling on the piece he was about to move. He glances across the small table, eyeing Harry who is fidgeting with his pieces, biting his lip. Taking a deep breath, Severus places his pawn back down leaning back in his chair to taps his chin wondering where to start.
"Your mother was a highly intelligent witch. Despite her muggle upbringing, Lily was a prodigy when it came to anything pertaining magic. She was talented in potions, transfiguration and charms, but she was especially gifted in healing. When we were in second year picking our electives, your mother told me how she wished to go into a career in healing or become a spell creator."
"Did she become a healer?"
"Regrettably she did not. As far as I can tell, Potter joined the Auror training as soon as he left school and Lily began her masters in charms and ancient runes so she could pursue both of her dreams, said it would give her time to decide which one she really wanted to follow. However, before she could complete her masteries She and James were married and months later they found out that Lily was pregnant. For the safety of their unborn child, James told Lily to quit her masteries and stay home."
"How do you know so much?" Harry asks, but soon regrets it when Severus's face falls. He had just inadvertently reminded the man of the fragmentation of his relationship with Lily during their school years.
"Potter's friend Remus Lupin was secretly friends with a younger Slytherin Student named Regulus Black. They would spend time together talking about their lives out of Hogwarts, Lily was a common friend between them, so her name came up often. Regulus knew of my friendship with Lily and thought it the right thing to do to keep me updated."
"Why was James's friend secretly friends with Regulus?"
"Potter and his friend Sirius Black, Regulus's older brother, hated anything to do with the Dark Arts, including anyone who had been sorted into Slytherin as it was seen as the evil house, much like it is today. Lupin was the more tolerable of their friendship group and didn't lay as much stigma on house rivalries; he was also a shy, meek individual who liked to avoid confrontation. Which is exactly what he would have gotten from his Potter and Black if they found out Lupin was playing nice with Slytherins."
Harry nods in understanding, eyebrows furrowing as he processes all the information Severus had told him comparing it to what everyone else had said about James. According to Professor McGonagall, Hagrid and Dumbledore himself, James had been an asset to the school, a delight but if his own friend was scared to out himself as friends with a Slytherin, the brother of his friend, then he couldn't have been that great.
"Sirius Black is the oldest son of Walburga Black, isn't he? He is Lady Malfoy's cousin? How come he was so against the Dark Arts; he is a born Black?" Severus stares across at Harry, eyebrow raised in question. "Draco told me about his relationship with the Black family through his mother." Harry answers.
"Black despised his mother. He thought her to be a cruel, abusive woman who hated him simply because he wasn't perfect. However, this was far from the case. Walburga Black was a strict woman, much like any other pureblood mother, her eldest son was a disobedient child and refused to listen to her teachings, therefore he received the brunt of her displeasure and punishments. Whereas Regulus was a good child and followed his mother's words, acted like the pureblood heir he was supposed to be. Black saw this as his mother playing favourites and vowed to spite her every teaching by doing everything, he could that was as far from the Black family values as possible."
Harry nods, he couldn't understand why someone would deliberately disobey their parents and then attempt to play victim when they received their punishment. It really didn't make sense to Harry. If you are going to do something which you know is going to end in being punished, then why do it in the first place and then complain. It was almost like this Sirius Black was playing on the sympathy of others. It didn't make sense to Harry.
"So, Black hated everything he perceived as Dark, including Slytherins, because he didn't like his mum, James Potter was very similar and they became friends only to go on a bully spree of the Slytherin population?"
"That is as much as I know, Snakelet. James Potter was the only child of Fleamont and Euphemia Potter, who had been told that they were unable to birth any children. James was their own miracle, so they spoilt him rotten. Everything he wanted he got; whatever he did was allowed. He never got punished for any wrongdoings."
"That's not right. Did none of the professors try to intervene?"
"No, Professor McGonagall was a very close family friend of the Potters and didn't wish to upset them or Potter by giving the boy detention and Dumbledore's favouritism of the Gryffindor House was evident even back then; even before the war broke out."
"All those poor Slytherins. No wonder so many of them turned toward the Dark Lord by the time they left school. It was almost as if Dumbledore wanted them to join the Death Eater. Mum wasn't like that, was she?" Harry questions, frown marring his features as he stares up at Severus, their chess game long forgotten.
"No, Lily Evans was the kindest girl I had ever had the pleasure of knowing. Despite us being sorted into rival houses, Lily brushed aside all sense of stigma and continued to be my friend. She befriended many Slytherins during her earlier years, including Regulus Black, Lucius Malfoy and I believe she even assisted the Lestrange brothers after a particularly vicious prank from Potter and Black. Lily was witnessed on more than one occasion berating Potter and his friends for taking things too far and to stop bullying the little first years, but they just laughed at her."
"If mum hated James so much because he was a bully, why did she end up marrying him? Her feelings couldn't have changed that much could they?" That is what Harry couldn't wrap his mind around, Lily Evan had despised James, had thought him to be arrogant, a vicious bully, immature. Yet two or three years later they had been happily married...?
"I am unsure either, Snakelet. When we came back to begin our fifth year after the summer break Lily was different. I don't understand how she was different, but she was. She wouldn't beret Potter and his friends for their bully ways anymore, claiming they were just harmless pranks. She started spouting things about all Slytherins going bad, joining the Death Eaters and that she could steer me onto the correct path. It was as if she were a completely different person."
"Do you think she was put under a spell, or potion? Maybe she had been threatened." Harry contemplates, turning the chess piece over and over in his hands, he didn't like how upset Severus sounded talking about his mum's change of heart. Nor did he like hearing the pain in the professor's voice.
"That I do not know, Snakelet. Your mother became more distant throughout the year, spending much of her time with Potter, Black and Remus. She stood to the side when Potter and his friends tormented the young Slytherins. Though she did try to step in when Black attempted their cruellest prank yet on myself. I snapped. I couldn't take much more of their bullying, of Lily's indecisive attitude…"
Harry notes the quivering in Severus's voice and his heart squeezes. Dropping the pawn back down on the table, Harry walks around, placing a hand on Severus's arm. He smiles sadly up at the man knowing that this was the turning point for him; that whatever happened here was the straw that broke the camels back. This is what gave him that final nudge towards the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. He wraps his arms around Severus when the man lifts him onto his lap, offering as much comfort to his guardian when a hands cards through his hair and rubs his spine.
"What happened, Sev?" His voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, indicating that Severus didn't have to answer if he didn't want to.
"Potter and Black spotted me as I was studying near the Black Lake for our O. and decided it was a good idea to attempt a Levicorpus spell. They were successful. Lily stepped forward and told James to stop, to put me down but she was laughing along, she was smiling as she did. James listened to her and dropped me a couple of metres from the air, my arm broke. Black kept making comments on how I needed a girl to save me, how I couldn't defend myself. They wouldn't stop. I was humiliated, in pain and angry. Lily came up to me then with that infernal grin still on her face and asked if I was alright, but I pushed her away. I didn't want her anywhere near me any longer. I said something to her that I had always regretted, but I wouldn't wish for things to end up differently."
Harry feels Severus's arm tightening around him, drawing him closer as if seeking comfort for memories long passed. He wraps his arms around the man's neck, small smile shaping his lips at the warmth he feels spreading through his veins at the contact. Severus's hugs were some of his favourites. Not that he had a lot to compare them to, but he loved the feeling of security, safety he felt wrapped up in such an embrace.
"It is okay, Sev. I don't think you did anything wrong. The Professors at the time should be held accountable for not punishing people like that in the first place. Those professors let them get away with breaking the school rules, for torturing and tormenting children several years younger than themselves without so much as a slap on the wrist. You were not at fault, Sev."
"Thank you, Harry." Severus pulls back, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Ruffling Harry's hair Severus drops a soft kiss to his head. "How about we finish this game and then I shall see about Mister Malfoy paying you a visit?"
"Okay and Severus? You know I love you, right?" Harry smiles, hands twisting in his robes when Severus places him back on his feet. Severus chokes up a little.
"Just as I love you, little Snakelet."
It had been two weeks of hell, two weeks since Hogwarts broke up for the summer and Harry Potter finds himself locked up in Dudley's second bedroom, a small room filled to the brim with broken toys, discarded items and objects his cousin was too stupid to understand. Once he had set foot in his relatives' house after getting off the Hogwarts Express at King's cross Station, Aunt Petunia had confiscated his trunk, locking it in his old cupboard under the stairs while Uncle Vernon had dragged him through the house and tossed him into his new room.
Harry had laughed at that for a while; at the fact that his relatives had only given him Dudley's second bedroom because they were terrified that there were wizards constantly watching the house now and that is how his letter had been addressed to 'Harry Potter, the Cupboard Under the Stairs.'. However, as the days progressed and nothing out of the ordinary happened, Harry could tell that the Dursleys' were losing much of that fear. With no indications of them being watched and no letters either, Aunt Petunia had finally started up again with her snide remarks and comments. Belittling her nephew, slowly increasing the harshness from insignificant comments whenever she caught sight of him to burning his hands on the stove for even the smallest mistakes while completing his chores.
Uncle Vernon seemed to have become even more vicious while he had been at school, probably because now there was definitive proof that his nephew was abnormal, that he didn't fit in with his idea of normal. He began the summer off with small shoves every time he walked past Harry, verbal abuse and long lists of impossible chores to complete. Turning it into full beatings just a few short days ago, days without food and to Harry's surprised Uncle Vernon had taken to locking him out of the house over night because the rest of the family had gone to bed before he had finished de-weeding the garden. He was immensely glad that Severus had the foresight to give him strong Nutrients potions to stave off the worse of the starvation.
Now with nothing to do besides his daily chores, when he wasn't locked in the bedroom, Harry finds himself so bored that he would happily sit down and do his summer homework if it weren't locked in his trunk downstairs.
The box room he was locked in left much to be desired; but for an eleven-year-old who had spent most of his life living in a boot closet, Harry appreciated it much more than any other child would. Even if it wasn't as nice as the room he had in Severus's quarters.
He had a bed or rather a pitiful pile of ratty, torn up blankets piled in the corner of the room closest to the small window covered in bars. To the left of his 'bed' stands a rickety old desk; he had managed to salvage it from the rubbish when his spoilt brat of a cousin threw it out demanding his parents buy him a new, modern one. Although the desk wasn't in perfect condition, Harry found that it would be serviceable enough to complete his homework and write letters to his friends, if he ever managed to sneak his stuff upstairs.
Harry lies on his back, the rough material of the blankets threatening to reopen the fresh wounds littering his already battered skin. A few new bruises being added daily to his ever-growing collection. Staring up at the ceiling, Harry passes his time by counting the cracks running along the plaster, watching chips of painting falling while he waits for his aunt to call him to make breakfast.
It is late at night, or rather early in the morning. Long since the sun had set, and the moon and stars had taken its place. All residences are fast asleep in their beds, collective snoring reaching his ear no doubt from his cousin and uncle, as sleep eludes his grasp. His spiralling thoughts coursing through his mind like a carousel, their focus, a conversation he had held with his potion's professor in the days leading to the end of term.
A simple conversation about how his mother, Lily. How she had been a kind, brave, and caring witch who had instantly disregarded the rivalry between the houses of Gryffindor and Slytherin as simple child's immaturity. He still couldn't believe how many snakes she had befriended during her earlier years.
Shifting slowly into a more comfortable position, Harry carefully sits up trying to ignore the burning pain running along his back. Sighing out loud, Harry decides to occupy his sleepless night with something he found himself doing a lot recently. Reaching down beside his blankets, Harry pulls some loose floorboards up, wincing when they creak, he lifts a small burgundy photo album out, resting against the wall, legs drawn to his chest. Stroking the moving picture on the front, Harry feels a smile forming on his lips as he stares down at the picture of his mother.
Harry had received the album as an early birthday present from Hagrid, and although he wasn't pleased with how sycophantic the half-giant was to Dumbledore, he did appreciate having something of his biological parents. Even if he didn't agree with how they treated Slytherins during their school years. Opening up the album, Harry looks at the moving images, thinking back on something which had stuck with Harry from one of his many conversations with Severus.
Professor Snape had confessed that Lily had hated James during the first four years they attended Hogwarts due to his rather loud, prejudicial, immature bullying ways, not to mention the fact that he had thought himself privileged because of who his parents were and because he had been spoilt rotten. Harry often found himself pondering how his mother's opinion had changed so rapidly; so drastically. Even Severus was unsure.
Flicking to the front of the album, where many of their Hogwarts pictures were, Harry stares enchanted at one of the only unmoving pictures. A muggle photograph. His eyes shine as they shift between the two people seemingly studying in the Hogwarts Library and by the looks of things, they were engrossed.
A young girl, looking to be around Harry's own age, with long, wavy red hair and bright green eyes is sitting at the table adorned in Gryffindor robes. A girl he instantly recognises as his mother; a girl who is seated next to a tall, skinny boy with shoulder length ebony hair dressed in Slytherin robes. The two preteens are smiling happily at the camera, though the boy seems to be looking more towards Lily than the camera.
Turning to the next page, Harry feels his eyes widen at the image, one he hadn't noticed when he had flipped through previously. This image, unlike the other, is moving. The people in the picture looking slightly older this time. However, like the image before, Lily is sitting next to Severus Snape in the Hogwarts library, books and parchment strewn across the table. This time, however, a second boy, on who Harry had never seen before who seems to be a few years older than Severus and Lily is seated across from them. His Slytherin robes perfectly flattering upon his body. This new figure seems to be carrying himself with an air of regality, of superiority, despite him smiling down at the two younger students. He is sitting back in his chair, watching the interactions of Lily and Severus.
His mother had been close friends with Lucius Malfoy.
He knows Professor Snape had mentioned that Lily had been friends with the Malfoy Lord, but he hadn't quite believed it. Staring down at the image with awe, Harry strokes down the moving figures. Carefully removing this picture and the previous one from the album, Harry hides them under his pillow. Resting the photo album on the corner of his desk watching with heavy eyes as it sways precariously before going still.
Settling himself back down in his blankets, Harry glances across the room at the alarm clock, 04:48. Just a few more hours before he would be woken up by his aunt's shrill voice and persistent knocking demanding he go and fix up Vernon's breakfast. Becoming wary of the cat and mouse game he is playing with sleep, Harry decides to try and clear his mind, halting all thoughts of pain, his mother, Severus and his soon-to-be-father. Thoughts begin to slow down, floating to the back of his mind as his eyelids grow heavier as Hypnos welcomes Harry into his embrace.
"Wake up you lazy, good-for-nothing freak!" A shrill voice seeps through the bolted door accompanied with thunderous banging jolting Harry awake and he has to wonder how his never seems to wake up when his banshee of a wife is screeching just down the corridor. Especially when every single noise Harry makes seems to be heard.
Blinking the grogginess from his sleep ridden mind, Harry slumps out of bed, shoving his broken glasses over his ears, he takes in his surroundings as the come into focus. Stumbling across the room, Harry pulls out whatever clothing his hands manage to grab first before throwing them on while attempting not to catch the still healing welts covering his back and chest.
"I said get up! Don't make me wake your uncle, you know what he will do if you don't obey."
Harry startles at the shout, wincing as the threat registers in his mind. His back flares in remembrance of his uncle's newest form of punishment. Tugging on the rest of his clothing, Harry pulls his over-sized trousers on a pair his uncle had 'generously' gifted him last year.
"Yes, Aunt Petunia. I will be down in just a moment."
Harry shudders when his aunt hits the door a final time before the sound of her footsteps move away from the bedroom door, after she had unlocked to multiple locks trapping him in the room. He allows some tension to bleed out of his muscles. Taking a deep breath, Harry returns to typing his shoes up, ensuring that they are a secure as he could make them before he stands back up. Stretching his cramped muscles carefully, Harry winces when he feels the bruises and scabs pulling in protest. Dropping his hands to his side, Harry vacates the room.
Stepping into the pristine kitchen, which he had spent hours scrubbing down the previous day, his hands were still raw from the bleach, Harry walks towards the cabinets, glad that his cousin isn't present to knock him to the ground. The fat lump was probably still asleep. Grabbing the various pots and pans from the racks, Harry begins the menial chore of cooking breakfast for the Dursley family, consisting of bacon, eggs, toast, beans, tomatoes and black pudding.
It didn't take long to prepare and cook the meal, Harry had done it for so long that he could probably do it with his eyes closed, that he was soon placing the steaming plates on the table. Just in time it seems, as Uncle Vernon waddles into the dining room, practically collapsing into his chair at the head of the table. Reaching mutely for the cup of coffee Harry places down by his hand, Vernon wastes no time digging into the food, shoving anything he can reach into his mouth.
Turning away from the disgusting sight, Harry attempts to reign in his grimace as he turns to the sink to start washing up. He already knows that it is going to be on his list of chores for the day, so he may as well get it out of the way. Quickly, yet efficiently scrubbing all the cooking equipment he had used that morning, Harry finishes the dishes in record time.
A quiet grunt catches Harry attention as he is placing the last utensil down on the draining board. Turning to face his uncle, Harry raises an inquisitive eyebrow behind the man's back, he didn't need to be punished before Vernon left for work. Harry watches, barely containing his disgust when Vernon pulls a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket with grease covered fingers, throwing it to the floor with an all too pleased grin.
Signing noiselessly, Harry dries his hands off on the towel draped over his shoulder before he bends down to pick up the small paper fragment, stuffing it straight in his pocket of his oversized jeans. He didn't even need to spare a glance to know that it was his chore list for the day. Quickly drying and packing away the dishes in the cupboards, Harry takes the piece of paper out of his pocket, pinching the corner between his thumb and forefinger. Grabbing the towel from his shoulder, Harry wipes down the list avoiding the hastily scrawled letters to avoid smudging the words. Eyes rapidly scanning the list, harry rolls his eyes, his uncle was looking for a reason to punish him now, it seemed.
Harry makes his way out to the back garden, not sparing a glance to his uncle. He makes his way to the shed where all of his uncles brand new gardening tools were housed. Harry wasn't going to complain about Vernon's spending spree this summer as the man was always trying to compete with his neighbours on owning the most up to date equipment; it just made his job all the easier. Grabbing the tools, he is going to need, Harry settles down under the kitchen window, dropping the tools with a clatter. Pinching the closest weed, he tugs gently, the baby weed coming out with little resistance. He allows his mind to wonder as he continues the monotonous task of de-weeding Petunia's, or rather his, flower beds.
I wonder how much longer father is going to take. I know he said it could take up to a couple of weeks, but it has already been three! I wonder if he has already forgotten about me. My own blood relatives have never wanted me around and the esteemed headmaster who was supposed to care for my wellbeing forced me back here even after I pleaded with him. Why would the most powerful wizard in Britain want a scrawny little kid like me…
Harry gasps when a sharp shooting pain stabs at his hearts, pulling up a handful of dirt with the weeds he is gripping. Dropping the weeds in a bucket, Harry grips his t-shirt as he wards of tears.
What if he just said all that, promised to adopt me, just to get the stone from me? What if he is never coming to rescue me?"
Harry scrunches his eyes shut, willing away his doubt as he reaches for another cluster of weeds. He tries to dislodge the uncomfortable feeling welling up in the back of his mind. He didn't like doubting anyone, hated how his relatives' treatment of him has forced him to grow up not trusting many, if any, people. He wanted to trust his father, wanted to believe his words to be true, but it was hard.
But… he did promise me and even Professor Snape had been extremely kind to me… Why would the Dark Lord Voldemort tell Snape everything if he never intended to go through with it at all? All I have ever wanted is a family who will love me, is that too much to ask? Or am I just an unlovable freak like Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon always says?
Gathering up the bucket filled with weeds he had pulled from the soil; Harry throws them into the gardening bin. He brushes his hands off on his trouser as he walks back over to the tools, collecting them, Harry places them back in the shed. Only to replace it with the lawn mower.
Checking the coast is clear, Harry quickly trails the cord through the house to the closest plug socket, checking the floor for any dirt he may have traipsed in. He breathes a deep sigh as soon as he is back outside, having not run into Petunia who had been, for some reason, watching him far more than usual these past few days. Harry shudders at the thought, her behaviour was really starting to creep him out, her staring constantly through the window when he is working in the back garden, the heavy scrutiny in her eyes. It was as if she were hiding something big from him, planning something or at the very least suspecting him of plotting something.
Harry sighs again, clicking the button to start up the mower. He had noticed, ever since he had returned from school that his sunt and uncle had taken to sneaking around the house, both sneering at him whenever they would lay eyes on him. The only thing Harry thought was keeping them from acting against him was the fear they still harboured about them possibly being watch or the unease that He, himself would curse them if they pushed him. It was why Harry quite liked the rule about not mentioning anything to do with his 'freakishness' because now he had a valid excuse why he hadn't told his relatives about the no underaged wizardry allowed laws.
He knew they were planning something though. Something that he isn't going to like in the slightest and as the days pass, he is becoming more wary of his aunt and uncle as well as afraid for his life. His uncle has this strange glint in his eyes whenever he catches sight of Harry now that, he is wishing Voldemort would just hurry up and get him before it is too late.
I really really hope Voldemort gets here soon. I am terrified that Uncle Vernon is planning to do something horrible. His punishments are getting worse, and it is a miracle if I can even stay conscious throughout most of them now. I have even woken up before ties to the bars on my window before and have had no idea what he had done to me while I was unconscious…
I am so scared. I know that they hate me and now I know the reason why, but I have never done anything wrong! I don't deserve to be treated this way… do I? No… I am sure I don't deserve to be treated like a slave by these despicable muggles. But if I don't then why have no one tried to help me before? If I didn't deserve this treatment, or at least some of it, why am I forced to stay here even though Draco told me how all purebloods are related to some degree. Why am I forced to stay here even though I have told people about the punishments, the starvation? Am I just a useless, ungrateful freak like Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia always tell me?
Harry feels a smile tugging at the corners of his lips when a picture flashes through his mind. An image of his relatives' cowering on the floor, their legs unable to hold themselves up any longer as their strength declines rapidly. Images of the looks on their faces when they catch sight of the Dark Lord, Voldemort and Severus Snape for the first time, a delightful mix of horror, shock and fear. He can picture the two men blasting down the front door, sneers on their faces, impeccable robes adorning their bodies and dark, threatening auras sparking. His uncle would try to yell at first, to intimidate the wizards but Harry knew that he would fail epically.
The hoot of an owl brings Harry from his musings, and he clicks off the mower, glancing up into the tree planted just outside the Dursleys garden fence. Staring up at the majestic bird for a moment, Harry takes in the slate black feathers, the larger than average wing span and the piercing amber eyes staring straight at him. Satisfied that he had received the recipients attention, the giant owl swoops down, landing on the handles of the mower, he hoots again holding his foot out for Harry, who notices the small roll of parchment attached.
"Hello handsome, is this for me?" Harry questions, voice softening as he reaches out to stroke the birds plumage, a deep sadness takes over when he is reminded of his own Hedwig, his precious friend who Vernon had viscously killed in front of him during his first week back.
The intimidating owl coos, nudging his head against Harry's cheek drawing a soft chuckle from the boy. Quickly releasing the bird of its burden, Harry trails his fingers down the owl's head, smiling when the owl seems to lean into his touch before taking flight. Harry watches the owl fly off before turning his attention to the letter in his hands. There were only a select number of people who would write to him and he could count them all on one hand. Breaking the seal, Harry scans through the letter.
Dear my Little Snakelet,
I apologise for how long it has taken me to get back in contact with you my little one, but I would like to inform you that the ritual we performed took longer than anticipated to prepare for and I can only tell you how sorry I am Harry. Severus and Lucius were a big help to myself during these past few weeks and it is only due to their assistance that I find myself in the position to write this missive to you.
Harry, I know this has been tough for you, and I know with my delayed arrival that you have no doubt begun to question my intentions towards you, but I would like to tell you this. Harry, you will forever be my child, my son and nothing is going to change that. I still have every intent on adopting you in the upcoming week and making it so no one will ever be able to take you away from me. You are my son, my child and my heir and I cannot tell you how pleased I feel knowing that you feel the same way.
Therefore, I am pleased to inform you, Snakelet. That all preparations have been made and finalised and I will be coming to pick you up this evening. I wish for you to have all of your things packed so that I may take you away from those despicable muggles as soon as possible, Snakelet. Hang in there a little longer my son and I will see you very soon, Snakelet.
All my love,
Your Father.
Harry stares down at the letter in his hands, tears prickling the corner of his eyes. His father hadn't forgotten about him, he was coming to collect him tonight! Just as he is about to begin celebrating the joyous news a small, bony hand slams down on his shoulder making his knees buckles as he flinches away from the touch. Stuffing the letter in his pocket, Harry turns to face his aunt, stomach dropping at the sour look scrunching up here features.
"Do I have to remind you that you have other chores to be getting on with today," She spits. "Get back to work you, ungrateful little freak!"
Cuffing Harry round the back of the head, who merely sniggers in response, as he watches her retreat back into the house slamming the door behind herself. Patting the letter in his pocket, Harry smirks, he really couldn't wait for this evening, his father would hopefully let him watch the muggles being tortured a little bit before taking him home. Switching on the mower, Harry continues on with his chores.