“Potter, are you all right?” He could not keep the concern from showing in his voice.

“I’m fine,” Harry responded as he sat beside him, and avoided looking at his eyes. He was ashamed that Snape had to see him in that condition. He might not live through the humiliation at Hogwarts. Yet Snape might not tattle on him, the Professor defended him from Vernon already, and he never spoke about what he saw during occlumency. “What about you Professor? You’re bleeding.”

“I have been better.” He admitted with a small grimace. He knew his injuries were not life threatening, but that did not make them hurt any less. “I need to borrow your owl boy. For some reason only clear to the Headmaster, the emergency portkey he made for me brought me here instead of Headquarters.”

“I have no owl anymore Sir.” Harry could not keep the pain from showing in his voice. He had really missed Hedwig but knew that at least she was in a better place. “My uncle… killed… he killed Hedwig the day I arrived from Hogwarts.” His voice was filled with emotion at the loss of his beloved friend, and his eyes misted with unshed tears.

The Potions Master’s face darkened with a murderous scowl. Everyone at Hogwarts knew how much Potter loved that animal. She was an excellent mail and companionship owl. Killing the child’s pet so soon after Black’s death was very cruel. The Dursley had to be aware of the boy’s dogfather’s death; Dumbledore wrote to them at the end of term explaining the situation. The barmy old coot was sure they would help the child cope with the loss. It was obvious that those ‘people’ had no intention of ever helping the boy.

“How have you been reporting? I know you must send a letter to the Order every three days.” Severus was frowning; he did not like what he was beginning to suspect.

Severus actually hoped he was wrong for once, but he rarely was.The boy had probably not reported and the incompetent dunderheaded imbeciles that were part of the Order had thought nothing about it. He closed his eyes for a moment and held the bridge of his nose in a gesture that was very common for him when he needed to keep calm. His mind decided to wander from a subject he did not want to contemplate to recalling what brought him to be in the Potter brat’s back yard.

Things had gone bad last night, Bellatrix and three other Death Eaters decided that he was in their way –he had been named second in command just acouple of days after the older Malfoy’s capture- and was a traitor on top of that. They ambushed him in his lab at Riddle Manor when the Dark Lord had been away at Malfoy Manor discussing his plans with Narcissa and Draco. Severus fought his attackers, and would have won, had not a piece of the ceiling hit him on the head almost knocking him out.

Why was it that the small things were the ones that ended hindering him? The bloody piece of rubbish had not even been cursed! It was simple serendipity.The Manor was very old and in much need of maintenance, especially the damp moldy cellar room that functioned as a potions laboratory. The thing simply fell at the precise moment he was under it and under attack so he could not move out of the way. Being led by a Slytherin the Death Eaters did not waste their advantage. His attackers subdued him and forced the experimental potion he had just finished down his throat believing it was poisonous. It was not, but the effect of it was not something he was looking forward to.

“I haven’t reported Sir,” Harry admitted, and his words brought back the Potions Master from recalling the early morning’s event. The boy had taken a bit of time before he decided to answer. “Not even once since I arrived from Hogwarts, but no one has come to investigate.” The boy’s voice denoted his anger at the Order’s members, but also some worrisome resignation to his fate.

“No one?” Severus could not hide the surprise from his voice. This was not good, not good at all. What where those imbeciles thinking? The muggles could seriously injure the boy. By the looks of it they had already hurt him enough to weaken him, and no one would be the wiser. “No one at all?”

“No Professor Snape, they promised, but I guess the world does not revolve around me as you say,” he told him bitterly.

Severus had to hold a flinch. Having his own words thrown back at him had hurt, especially when it was clear that they hurt the child too. But he supposed he deserved it for failing to assess the boy’s real situation, even when he had been in his head –and seen examples that all was not right at his home- part of last term. He prided himself of his observation skills. This time, with this boy, his skills had failed him. Severus had not wanted to see what was right before his eyes.

“Do you have any means of communication with the Order at all child?” Potter looked at his hands and shook his head. If Potter was surprised at the concern reflected on his silky voice he did not show it. “Or a portkey for emergencies?” The boy shook his head again.

“There was Mrs. Figg, she’s a squib, I just found out last year about her after the Dementors tried to kiss my cousin and me. I think she had a floo connection at her house, but I’m not sure though. Her house is three blocks away from here, down Magnolia Crescent. But she had some electrical problems last week and a large part of her first floor was burned, she’s moved to a daughter’s house while hers is under repairs, or so the neighborhood gossipers have been saying.”

Severus stared at the boy in disbelief. What was that group of feeble-minded morons thinking? Potter was the Dark Lord’s main target, and the dimwitted fools left him with only an owl as means of communication? He did not count the squib, simply because the boy was not sure he could go to her for assistance, and three blocks followed by Death Eaters was a long way, it was not probable that he would make it that far. It would also endanger many muggles unnecessarily. For crying out loud! Owls were neither the fastest nor the safest means of communicating. Should something happen –like the predicament they were in at the moment- it would take too long before help arrived, and by then it would be too late!

The boy was left with no means of escaping from the house; Severus could not help but curse the idiots, and include Dumbledore in his curses too. The Headmaster should know better. He had been through more than two wars in his lifetime, and he had been a target in the last two at least, Albus was getting senile. His over confidence in the blood ward was appalling, and in Snape’s opinion –now that he finally assessed the boy’s real situation- it defied reason. A blood ward based on love did not stand a chance of working where there was hate and abuse of any kind.

Dumbledore had stranded the Potter’s boy –and consequently him- with the abusive muggles. Severus’ situation had become dire, and he faced some hard decisions while he had little time to think things through. The potion he was forced to drink was not deadly, not even painful, but the effects were enough to frighten him. They would cause him to loose his mind, himself, and all that he was. Something like that was among the things the intelligent, and controlled wizard feared the most.

The potion was experimental, but on the final stages of developement, almost ready to be released as a working potion. It was a de-aging potion the Dark Lord had especially requested –although the Potions Master still did not know what the Dark Lord wanted the potion for. Once ingested, and the desired age reached, it would allow the drinker to grow up by ageing year by year, unlike the vast majority of de-aging potions around.

The concoction would delete any memories of the victim’s adult self. This again was something no de-aging potion did; the memories always remained even if they were not always accessible to the de aged witch or wizard. The potion left only the childhood or teenage memories –depending on the target age -up to the desired age but not a day beyond that. Aging potions could –and did- restore the body, but would never restore the mind, as there was nothing left to restore. The victim would remain a child or a teenager in an adult’s body. As a benefit –dubious though it seemed- the magical levels the victim had as an adult remained.

This potion had no antidote yet, although Severus had made copious notes about the process of creating it in his work journals, of which he kept several self-updating copies in different locations. But they would not be of any use to a clueless child –whatever age he ended being- even when said child had been a potions prodigy, once the retardant potion’s effects wore off, and the experimental potion was allowed to work in around three, or if he was lucky, even four more hours; unfortunately he rarely was.

While there was no antidote, there was a way to safeguard the memories and knowledge. That had been his original plan, but the portkey did not take him to Albus as he thought, and now he depended on a boy he had mistreated, bullied and in general made life miserable for five years. Unfortunately for him the retardant potion reacted badly with apparition, and the Knight Bus was too risky in his condition, so he could not go to Headquarters either way. He also was rather depleted magically because of the fight the previous night. He had energy for some spells, but not enough to make a portkey, and that was only if anyone could portkey out of Potter’s house. He knew there were more wards on top of the blood based one.

His only hope was to create a brotherhood bond with the boy –which he had planned to do with Albus or Minerva, both of whom he trusted- and transfer his memories to Potter in a block the curious Gryffindor would not have viewing access to. Then he would have to wait until an antidote was created, or he grew old enough to have the boy begin transferring his memories back.

While the host could not see the memories he could make gradual transfers to the original owner of them through the bond. That was why he had chosen it as an alternative ‘remedy’ until he could develop the counter. There were some consequences of the bonding, but with Albus or Minerva as his choice of partner he had not minded them. This type of bond would merge his knowledge with the other partner. In this case Potter.

The boy would end having the knowledge of a Potions Master -but most assuredly not the skills- unless Severus had underestimated the brat. The young Gryffindor would even know the Dark Arts, and be well above NEWT level at all subjects. The Slytherin had been the know-it-all of his generation, and lost the Head Boy position because James Potter was popular -and a quidditch hero- while Severus was practically a pariah, even in his own house.

Was Severus willing to give Potter all that for a chance –however meager it seemed at the moment- to recover himself? It was indeed a very difficult question for him to respond. There was also the fact that he would have to entrust his younger self’s well being, education, and protection to the boy. His mind initially recoiled at the thought of the arrogant, spoiled, and… he stopped, Potter was not that. The boy could not be if –as he had attested moments ago- the relatives were neglectful and abusive. Severus had been wrong about James Potter’s son, very wrong. It led him to thinking about what else he had wrong about the Gryffindor.

Besides –and he was trying to be positive, something which was hard for him- Potter would benefit immensely from not only his knowledge and experience, but from the mental blocks the bond created. It might even severe the connection the scar had to the Dark Lord –again one could only hope. Severus knew the whole Prophesy. He was the one at the Hog’s Head when Trelawny made it, and he heard the whole of it, though not even Albus knew he had. Unfortunately young Severus was not as good at occlumency then, as he prided himself to be, and part of it slipped through his shield all those years ago. The Dark Lord had found out the start of it, and targeted both the Potters and the Longbottoms, although the last he did not torture personally. Bellatrix and Rodolphus had gone after them in revenge once Potter vanquished the Dark Lord.

Severus knew Potter was the ‘Chosen One’, and it was one of the reasons why he was so hard with the boy. The fate of the wizarding world rested on the irresponsible brat’s shoulders, and he could not understand why the boy was not making an effort to learn, why he seemed so ignorant of the wizarding world or why he was not being trained. Now he knew it was not the boy’s fault. Dumbledore admitted he kept Potter in the dark, the boy had not even been aware he was a wizard until Hagrid retrieved him to give him his Hogwarts’ letter and take him to Diagon Alley.

The Potions Master had not wanted to believe the old wizard’s words, but he had proof of them now with the magic hating oaf of a muggle. He also could understand now why his methods failed; the boy’s upbringing was the reason. The child did not need any more abuse, and would react negatively to it, just as Potter did. The Potions Master and spy had wanted to challenge the child into proving him wrong, most Gryffindors would react that way. Instead the boy had reacted with anger, disinterest as well as distrust, like a Slytherin would.

Shaking his head he made a decision. He would bond with Potter if the boy agreed. But before doing it, he needed to make sure the younger wizard could protect them not only from the muggles, but from anyone else. He would have to cast a couple of spells to insure the boy could use magic, and was free of tracking and locating spells. He also needed to mask his magical signature, and the bond would help with that. Their magical power would merge, creating different signatures to the ones they had before the bond, unique to them and yet very similar marking them as brothers magically for everyone to see. The way things were for the younger wizard at the moment, he believed Potter would agree to host his memories. The boy after all did have a penchant for helping people in need, and Severus needed help desperately.