Chapter Seven

Harry was walking to defense with dread in his every step. He had finished eating lunch in the Professor's office, which had been nice even though he was still slightly angry with the man, but he did understand. Hermoine was annoying, Harry knew, but he didn't like how hard the Professor had been on her. He was glad he stood up for her, even if it made him feel so nervous afterward. He had been jumpy for all of lunch, but the Professor had been really understanding.

Harry sighed, pushing through the crowds to get to the class. He had already spoken to the Professor about the pain he had felt every time he had been to the class this week, but yesterday had been so much worse. It had been when Professor Quirrell used him for a demonstration that his head had nearly split in two. He really didn't want that to happen again, but he would not skip out on class.

He met Ron at the door to the classroom and took a seat next to his fellow Gryffindors. There was a commotion going on over by the Slytherins. Harry peeked over to see some people crowded around Malfoy either whimpering in mock comfort in the girls' cases or mocking the boy in the boys' cases. Harry heard from Professor Snape that he was silencing the boy for the day for what he said to Hermoine, but it seemed the blonde Slytherin was going to receive more embarrassment from the punishment.

Harry wanted to say that he didn't think it was right, but the blonde had been really disrespectful to Professor Snape, and Ron had even said that Malfoy had not even done their detention correctly. It seemed to Harry like the boy was a complete stuck-up git that liked to bully people, so if Professor Snape wanted to silence the boy, Harry was okay with looking the other way just this once.

Harry nudged Ron, "Professor Snape put a silencing spell on Malfoy."
His red-headed best friend looked like he might faint. "No way! Snape? He would never?"

Harry shrugged. "Well, he did."

Ron looked over to the blonde with a smirk. "Watch this."

Harry reached out for the boy. "Ron, I don't think…"

Ron was already halfway across the room, and Harry wanted to stop him but couldn't seem to make himself. He wanted to be brave, but what if Ron decided that that was why he would stop being his friend. He bit his lip in his nerves to see Ron had reached Malfoy. "Well, what do we have here? Well, Malfoy, what are you? A mute? Slytherin got you tongue?"

The Slytherins were even snickering at the blonde's expense, and Harry winced in slight sympathy. Ron leaned toward the boy. "I can't hear you, Malfoy? I heard you like to call people names, what am I, Malfoy? Am I a handsome, brave Gryffindor? Say nothing if you agree… nothing heard. Wow, Malfoy, do you fancy me? Or wait I know who you fancy, it's Granger, right? Say nothing if you agree… Well, there you have it. Malfoy is a muggleborn lover."

Harry stood up. "Ron, I don't…"

The whole room was snickering until they heard the snap of the door closing. Harry looked to see Professor Quirrell staring at Ron with a confused glare. "M-Mr. W-wealey, p-please, s-sit."

Ron ducked his head as he came to sit beside Harry, and Harry smiled to his best friend in reassurance. The red-head smiled weakly in return and turned his head down as he flushed all the way to his ears. Harry could understand as he saw that Professor Quirrell was still staring at Ron with an odd glint to his eye. Harry was shocked to see those eyes turn to him, and his scar flared in pain. He winced, dropping his eyes to look at the desk. What was wrong with him?

The class began with instruction on some curses that no one took seriously because the class was a bit of a joke. It had been a waste of time since the first class when Harry and most of his classmates had realized the man stuttered too much to get anything out of it. The man wouldn't even tell them more about his time fighting zombies, real life zombies. Harry was in agreement with everyone, save Hermoine, that this class was a waste of their time.

The class finally ended, and Harry was lucky to not have been called up for any demonstration or lack thereof since the man didn't perform one that class period. Harry left the classroom with Ron, who was excitedly talking about how Malfoy had gotten his comeuppance. Harry nodded along, like the good friend he was, and followed the other boy to Charms class.

Professor Flitwick was much more interesting even if he did fall from his stack of books too often. They went over the spell from their last class and then split into groups to practice. Harry was practicing with Ron when he felt a slight sting in his arm. He turned to see Malfoy glaring at him. He pulled his eyes from the boy when Ron asked him how the wand movement went, but he could feel the eyes on him for the rest of the class.

After Charms, Harry and Ron went to the common room, and even though Harry was making sure to do his homework, he couldn't convince Ron to do the same. It was a few hours later that they were heading to Dinner, and Harry felt his feet dragging. What had he agreed to? Another person to know what had happened to him, was he going barmy? If his Uncle found out… He'd be dead come this summer.

Harry sat with his friend and their dormmates, and Harry's head hung as he tried to avoid the dark gaze on him. It was unsuccessful as a tactic as he saw the not so mystery floating food make its way onto his plate. He peeked a look at the Head Table to see the Professor glaring at him.

He almost put up a fight this time because honestly he deserved to, he was going to get a check-up, and he hoped it wasn't anything like the muggle ones. Afterwards they would call the Dursleys to get to the bottom of what they found, and the Dursleys would lie and the nice nurse became not so nice and they would call him a liar. His arms would be so sore from how they pushed the shots into him too hard.

Now, the Professor was gonna take him to someone like that. He wanted to trust the kind man, he really, really did, but he was so scared. Harry sighed in resignation, knowing he would have to eat even though his stomach was churning with worries. He tucked into his food, his eyes finding the Professors every so often.

"Hey, Harry."

Harry looked over to Ron to see him looking at him with concern. "Yes, Ron."
"Mate, why does food always float to you?"

Harry felt his face freeze. "I-uh-don't know what you mean?"

"Sure you do. Every time you get nervous and don't eat, food gets floated to your plate. Is there something wrong, Harry?"

"No, nothing, Ron. I just get stomach aches sometimes."

"Is everything alright, mate?"

Harry nodded. "It's fine. Someone is helping me with it."

It didn't take long for everyone to finish dinner as he had arrived later than most. He waved off Ron, lying on why he was waiting at the table, and watched Ron walk away worried and not reassured. Maybe he should tell him what's going on, but to do that would mean explaining the Dursleys, defending Professor Snape, and waiting for Ron's reaction. Harry didn't think he could stand if Ron didn't like him after that.

He didn't get to worry about that too much as Professor Snape swept past him and directed him toward the doors with a finger. Harry felt like he wasn't present as he got up from his seat and followed after the man. He felt himself shaking, and his hands were intertwined, wringing nervously. He got the tap, but he didn't think he could stop and that realization just made him more nervous.

He bit into his lip and whimpered as his mind panicked at another outcome. What if Professor Snape believed the Dursleys too? What if he will hate him too? The thought forced him to stop abruptly along with his breathing. If this led to Professor Snape hating him, he didn't know what he would do. He-He didn't know why he cared, but he wanted to be the man's exception. And, then the Dursley's could ruin that too.

The tap to his hands once again made him startle and look up to see the stern professor looking down at him with an arched brow. "Mr. Potter, what do you think those taps to your hands were meant to mean, and furthermore, what do you think my tapping your chin means?"

Harry flushed, recalling the many times already the Professor had tapped him on both places. He stopped the actions and lowered his eyes to the floor. Why hadn't he listened the first time? He knew what he was supposed to do, but he had to be an idiot. The man cleared his throat, and Harry felt his shoulders move up to his ears as he flinched. "T-to not do those t-things, sir. 'M sorry."

The man made a tutting sound before a stained, pale hand came out and pushed his head up by his chin. The man looked a lot less stern now, which Harry was sure was because he felt near tears. He dug his palms into his eyes to force them back down. He wasn't supposed to cry, but he was just so worried and scared, which just made him feel stupid. "None of that, Harry. You are not stupid, but I do those things to stop the action and to curb your anxiety. There is no need to fear this check-up, Harry. I will be there."

Harry's mouth dropped open near the beginning of the speech because he knew he was stupid, but by the end, he was opening and closing it rapidly. "No, sir, you don't understand. The Dursleys… t-they'll… they'll…"

Harry cut himself off. What would the man care? Soon he will be on their side too. The man's eyebrow raised. "They'll what, Mr. Potter?"
Harry felt a tear spill over. "They'll lie. They'll do it like they always do! They'll… they'll tell the nurse lies and… and you'll hate me."

Harry watched in confusion as the man rolled his eyes. "Really, child, do I seem that daft to you? I am not some muggle that can be swayed by some low intelligent, brusque muggles. Believe me, Harry, magic will not allow for their lies. You will not go back there, I will not and could not hate you, and this check-up is only a formality to document their actions as we have already spoken about their abuse. Have I alleviated these idiotic ideas in your head?"

Harry found himself nodding rapidly. "Yes, sorry, sir. I just… it always happened that way. They would ask, and I never lied."
When put as the Professor had said it, Harry really was being daft. The Professor was a lot smarter than Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, and Harry should trust in that. He felt his nerves lessen as the Professor took his shoulder and steered him in the right direction. If the Professor was around, he was safe, he was sure of it, nothing could hurt him then.

They made it to the hospital wing without any more incidents, and they felt reassured with the Professor beside him as the man led him through to one of the many white sheeted, hospital beds. "Sit, and do not move," the man said with a stern look.

Harry sat down on the edge of the bed already pushing his hands under his thighs. The Professor walked away, and Harry bit at his lip and took his hands from under his thighs to ring them. He knew for now he could get away with it. Professor Snape came back with a woman in a smock and a funny looking hat. Harry assumed she was Madame Pomphrey.

Professor Snape came over to him and glared at his hands. Harry looked away from the man as he pulled his hands apart and sunk them under his thighs. "Good evening, Mr. Potter. It is nice to meet you, of course, though I do wish it were under better circumstances. I am Madame Pomphrey, the school's resident matron."

Harry nodded to the lady, smiling nervously at the kind witch. "Hello, ma'am. I-It's nice t-to meet you."

She nodded before fluttering around him to get to where he was sitting. Harry tried to contain his flinch when she came near him, but he flinched back anyway, causing her to step back in response. "Don't worry, Potter," she said with a pat to his knee. "This won't hurt a bit. All I shall be doing is giving my wand a wave to run a diagnostic spell, alright, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded, and she smiled. "It should only be a minute, of course, and then if need be, we can get you healed up."

Harry nodded through his now trembling body, looking to Professor Snape for help. Professor Snape nodded and moved closer to him. "She is speaking honestly, Harry. There is nothing to worry about."

Harry bit his lip, his hands flexing nervously from beneath his legs. He felt the tap to his chin and realized he had been biting into it. He let his lip loose and stared at his knees. "None of that, ask your question."

Harry smiled up at the man, who seemed to read him so easily. He always knew what he wanted. "You are staying, right, Professor? Please?"

The man's eyebrows rose, but Harry noted with some small amount of relief that he inclined his head. "Of course."

Harry smiled faintly in thanks before turning his gaze back to the smirking Madame Pomphrey. "I-uhm I'm ready, Ma'am."

The Matron nodded and waved her wand in an intricate pattern, producing a bright light over Harry. He felt a slight twinge in his chest before a piece of parchment appeared out of thin air into Madame Pomphrey's hands. Harry licked his lips nervously as the woman's face went white as the sheets underneath Harry. "Uhm, is everything alright? Did I do something wrong?"

Professor Snape went over to her after patting Harry on the leg in reassurance. Harry watched in growing concern as his face went red with what could only be rage. The man seemed so angry for a second before his face cleared of all emotions. Then he looked at Harry, and it was back. "Those monsters," the man seethed.

Harry flinched at the tone, moving away from the two angry looking adults. Professor Snape seemed to notice first, and then he was suddenly emotionless again. He tapped Madame Pomphrey and nodded toward a door in the back. He and the mediwitch went toward a back office while Harry tried to calm his panicked breaths.

He spent the time trying to realize what he had done wrong. The Professor had seemed so angry when he had looked at him, and he knew he was supposed to be calm, supposed to be trusting the man, but he could hardly stop himself from nearly panicking. What if what they saw wasn't going to help him? What if they knew he was a freak now?

It wasn't long before Professor Snape came back to him, caring vials of what must have been potions. "Calm yourself, Potter. We are not angry at you. We were having an adverse reaction to your relatives and their treatment of you."

Harry's head cocked to the side in his confusion. "Why?"
The Professor's brows drew together. "Because it was deplorable, Harry. No one deserves that. No one. You were a child in their care. You deserved more."

Harry shrugged. "I'm used to it."

That didn't seem to make the man feel any better. "You should not be accustomed to this, Harry."
He thought he heard the man say something, but suddenly, the man was there beside him, having him sit up and lean against the pillows. The man silently, but not unkindly, handed him each potion, which Harry took without complaint. By the last one, he felt very drowsy and succumbed to the feeling as someone pulled the sheets over the top of him.

Snape

Severus looked down at the child in the bed. The boy was very strong to go through what he had. He had endured so much at the muggles' hands that Severus himself was contemplating hurting them in ways that he had not imagined since he was a Death Eater. He had hated being a Death Eater, had hated torturing muggles, but now, when a child had been threatened and hurt, he was coming back to those thoughts more and more while thinking of that lengthy piece of parchment produced by Poppy.

"Is he asleep?"

Severus turned to where Poppy stood by the door to her office. "Yes, a dreamless one at that. I thought he deserved it after all that he has gone through."
She nodded, looking at the boy in bed. "Did he have any questions?"

Severus glared at her, his eyebrows lowered. "None. You would have known that if you had not decided this called for hysterics. Honestly, Poppy, you call yourself a professional when one abuse case sends you spinning."

The matron glared at him, but Severus stayed by his statement. She was meant to be a professional, like he was. She should have kept her head. Harry deserved better than some weak willed witch. "Well, I'm sorry, Severus, some of us have feelings for the boy and his family beyond hatred and petty childhood revenge."
Severus felt his hackles rise. "Do not presume to know how I feel or deem yourself able to tell me, witch!"

She looked slightly apologetic and that was more than Severus was accustomed. He would take that small nuance. "I am capable of compartmentalization, that does not make me unfeeling. Especially not in cases like this."

Severus was not one to talk about his feelings, but he did not need some witch presuming to know him. He could be whoever he wanted to inside of himself, and no one told him how he felt. He had only so many things he could decide for himself about his character, and his helping of children hurt by abusers was one he had picked and was fiercely protective of against scrutiny of any kind.

She turned away from him, messing with papers on her desk. "I will inform Minerva and Albus."
Severus snorted. "As if the old fool will listen. Be sure you bring evidence because he will never believe you otherwise. And be sure to only bring copies, no need to lose originals to the old man's skewed views of the world and his god-complex."

She looked shocked, but she nodded all the same. "When should I go then, Severus?"
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Not any time soon. I need time to gather my information and work with it. I will allow Minerva to know as Potter is a Gryffindor, but I think it best that you convey discretion to her."
She nodded and then left, and Severus became unsure of where he should go. He had gotten the boy to the nurse, healed him as much as he could, and had settled things with the witch. Where should he go now?

He looked down to the boy. He could not leave the boy because to leave him vulnerable now would be a chance for Albus to sink his needling words into the boy. He needed to speak with someone, preferably Lucius, who would be in charge of the next steps of his plans. He spelled two chairs, a more comfortable and regal one for the pureblood. He would just need to firecall Lucius from within the infirmary.

He went to the fireplace and took the powder from the shelf overhead before sending a pinch into the flames. He shouted the password to Lucius's office, kneeling with his head near the flames. He received a fiery head of the man with a bothered look. Severus smirked at the man from his position. "What is it, Severus? I am currently in no mood to kneel here on the floor like a common pauper."

Severus internally chuckled before standing back and gesturing for the man to come through the floo into the infirmary. "Come through then, Lucius."

The man sniffed arrogantly before coming through, looking like a regal peacock. Severus closed the connections between the two floos and gestured Lucius over to the rows of beds. The man nodded and strode forward to the set of chairs Severus had left for them. He picked the correct chair and sat in it with his regal masks still in place.

Severus sighed while warding the floo and drawing privacy wards around their small portion of the room. He joined the blonde haired man in the open seat and rubbed at his temples. The once snide look melted, and the concerned frown Severus expected took over. Trust Lucius to see when he was bothered when no one else had in the past few days.

"Where have you been these past few days, Severus?"

Severus growled low in his throat. "I have been busy."

Lucius looked less than impressed by his irritation. "So, what, have you forgotten how to communicate completely? No letters, no floo calls, just complete silence, and after the last time we met?"

Severus shrugged. "What of it?"

"Well, you do remember how agitated we were, and how you said you weren't ready to speak to me yet? I have waited patiently, Severus, but I am not a patient man."

Severus folded his arms over his chest. "I have been pursuing another case."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Well, that does change things, but honestly, Severus, you haven't treated a case of child abuse like this in years."
Severus sighed and uncharacteristically ran a hand back through his hair. "Don't you think I know that, Lucius."

The other man's face pinched. "Why is it so special to you then, Severus?"

Severus leaned back in the chair he had taken up, his body feeling exhausted. "I was very mistaken for all these years, all the petty thoughts and feelings. They were all wrong, and well, we, the wizarding world, were all wrong."
The blonde leaned forward with his eyebrows drawn together and his hands twitching. Severus could see how much Lucius wanted to do more, and how the lack of information on how he could help was killing him. Severus hated how he needed to speak with the man, but he would have to be more specific if he did not want to put up with a frustrated Lucius Malfoy. "In the bed is Harry Potter."

The man's face did not change from the worried, anxious frown that marred his usually smirking lips. Severus was only partly surprised. "He has been abused, Lucius."

The man moved to the edge of his chair, most of his upper body resting on the head of his cane, probably to keep from drawing his wand in his anger. "You discovered it of course," the man acknowledged.

Severus nodded, even though it was unnecessary as they both knew it was always he who discovered the abuse cases in the school. "The muggles, I assume?"

Again, Severus nodded, causing Lucius to curse this time. The man raked a hand across his face and levelled Severus with a softened look. "This was why you have been acting so off these past few days?"

Severus cleared his throat, trying to go for his usual cool responses. "It has been trying of course."
The other man arched an imperial brow. "I know what she meant to you, and I also know how personally you take these cases. It must be a great deal harder than trying, Severus, but I will let you come to me when you are ready to discuss it. For now, how bad?"

Severus closed his eyes, his mask was coming apart for a moment as his hands smoothed at the ache between his brow. He had wanted to speak more with Lucius these past few days, had needed to really, but he had been so caught up in all his thoughts and the old feelings Harry had brought up that he had been unable to make himself. He regretted that decision now as he would need the man's help with not only Harry but also getting through his own thoughts and feelings.

"He had full malnutrition starting at age fifteen months, broken bones left to heal incorrectly, illnesses left untreated, burns, concussions, and that is just what Poppy's spells can tell us. It cannot provide for the emotional or mental abuse suffered at their hands. However, Harry's actions speak loud enough as well as the legilimency I performed on him as a record to use in a case against those beasts."

"Harry, Severus?"
Severus barely kept himself from flushing in embarrassment. "The boy opened up to me, and I find myself unsure, Lucius. It feels odd acting as I have around the boy. The care I take to keep myself from scaring him. The way I accommodate him. I even offered him lessons, Lucius! Lessons with me! He didn't deserve what they did, and… I am acting so out of character with him. Caring even."

The man chuckled. "You act as if you do not act caring, Severus. Besides, you treating an orphaned, child abuse case kindly is not the end of the world. You care for a child. It is not so hard to believe. You have cared for all the children that have fallen under your care."

Severus shook his head. "It is different with Harry. I want to help him more than just to heal physically but emotionally as well. I want to teach him, and I worry for him. I feel responsible for him, and it is maddening."

Severus felt his face flush in anger at the bark of laughter he received. He glared at the blonde affronted. "Severus, you make it sound as if being a father figure to the boy is some crime. He is Lily's son, your best friend, your sister in all but blood, and he is abused. Truthfully, I am not surprised. Just allow yourself time to get through your feelings and to build a rapport with the boy. Spend some of your time with him. He could use the support, I am sure!"

"Are you mad, Lucius? I am no father figure. Do you know me at all? I would be a mentor, a guide. Yes, that will be how I help him. I will mentor the boy. Give him support in knowledge and skill."

The blonde snorted. "Yes, that is all. I am so sure of it, Severus. Just a mentor, no feelings involved. Well, if that is all you need me for…"

"No, I feel I may need you to help me get around the Ministry as well as the old codger. I need to work with the Child Services department, and I am sure Albus will be unconcerned and try to dissuade me and Poppy from our pursuals. I believe we need to usurp the Dursley's guardianship while also keeping it from the press."

The blonde smirked, his Slytherin showing. "And who shall take over his guardianship in the interim?"
Severus shrugged. "No one yet, of course. We have time. I promised Harry we would discuss it and do so extensively to get the most favorable candidate."

The man smirked wider at Severus, his eyes amused. "But of course."

Severus glared. He did not like what his partner was getting at, pushing him as he was. "Back to the topic at hand, I have his health report and his statement for you. The rest you will accomplish quietly, understood?"
The man leered. "Now, Severus, you and I both know I am the picture of discretion."

The wink and accompanying smirk sent his way was not missed, and Severus scowled. "Good, you can see your way out now, Lucius."

The blonde chuckled as he stood and began the walk back to the fireplace. " I will contact you with the guardianship papers filled out for you, Severus. I am sorry to say you will have to take the guardianship until a more permanent option is found."
Severus nodded as it seemed to be an option to keep the boy out of ministry hands. He would hold it until an actually suitable guardian came along. "Very well, Lucius. I will call you soon."
The man smirked. "You had better, Severus. This certainly would not make up for the lack of attention paid upon me in the last two days."

He entered the floo, and Severus was left with the young boy in the bed as his company. He had made a promise to the boy to be there, and he thought he had served his time to the fullest. He could be back in the morning and leave wards up to know if the child was disturbed in the night. He was not one to sit at bedsides and worry over children. No, he was a mentor, nothing more or less than that, and the sooner he started acting that way, the better.