Madame Pomfrey made her way down out of the gallery to the floor of the chamber and walked over to the table to check on Harry as Aurors removed the Dursleys for the short recess.

Severus was doing his own examination as she approached.

“Severus, how is he?” she asked, flicking her wand out and taking a reading.

“Not good, Poppy,” he replied, not taking his eyes off of Harry. The boy, despite calming draughts, was still trembling and his eyes were still glassy in appearance. He looked pleadingly up at his father, though.

“Dad, I just want this to end. I can last the rest of the day,” he insisted.

“Are you sure? We can ask for a delay…” he offered.

“No, let’s get it over with.” He looked up at his advocate. “Please, Whitney. I can’t stand to drag it out; I never want to see them after today.”

“Alright, Harry. Let me check with Madam Winterveil and see if we can expedite this today.” He walked away from the table and headed towards the cluster of senior Wizengamot members who were milling away at the other end of the chamber.

A young junior Auror, with bright fuchsia hair, made her way over to their table with a tray of tea for several people floating in front of her. “Mr Allgood? This is for you and your clients from Madam Winterveil, she said the boy looked peaked and probably needed some refreshment.”

“Thank you, Auror -?”

“Tonks, sir – just call me Tonks.” She smiled down at Harry and backed away from the table, tripping over her feet as she attempted to leave the area hastily. Severus and Poppy sighed in tandem as they watched the young lady leave.

“That child was in my infirmary more times than I care to think about. Appears maturity hasn’t fixed that problem,” Poppy murmured to Severus.

“How she managed an ‘O’ on her NEWTs in my class, has me boggled to this day,” Severus agreed. Harry watched them with an incredulous look on his face, which Severus finally noticed. “What? The child is a walking disaster!” His son managed a tiny smile at his father’s jest and began to relax a bit, letting the potion work it’s magic. He accepted a cup of tea and a chocolate biscuit from the lawyer as Whitney made his way back over to them.

“Alright, Harry. They are going to have your Aunt’s trial first – then your Uncle’s. If it gets too much for you, you’re to let me know immediately. Understand? Good.” He turned to Allgood as he was offered some refreshment. “Thank you, Jason, a spot of tea is just what I need.” He accepted the proffered saucer and cup and chose a biscuit from the plate.

Harry relaxed against his father’s side until a bong sounded in the chamber, indicating that everyone was to retake their seats. The tea tray disappeared and a water carafe and cups replaced it. As soon as the gallery and Wizengamot were again seated, the prisoner’s gate was opened and Petunia was led over to the chair in the centre of the room. The chains immediately snaked around her chest and arms, holding her in place. She looked small and vulnerable in the large chair, but Harry was not looking; instead, his head was down, staring at his hands clenched in his lap. He had flinched when he had heard the chains, but that had been his only reaction. His lips moved as he repeated his mantra under his breath. Severus kept a hand on his boy’s back – willing calmness down their bond.

The clerk stood up and approached the accused. “Petunia Rose Evans Dursley; you are accused of child neglect, child abuse, embezzlement of funds rightfully belonging to Harry James Potter-Snape, and child abandonment. How do you plead?”

“Not guilty!” she declared, sitting upright in her chair and staring at the clerk in defiance.

“Auror Shacklebolt will apply the Veritaserum.” The clerk motioned to Kingsley Shacklebolt who came over with the small vial of clear liquid. He applied the three drops onto her tongue and watched until he was sure she was fully under the influence. He gave Allgood a quick nod of his head and Jason approached the chair as the clerk retreated back to his desk.

“Mrs Dursley, why did you agree to take in your nephew?”

“Because I was told to by Albus Dumbledore.”

“Why didn’t you say no, if you felt you couldn’t care for the boy like a parent?”

“Because he made it sound as if we were in danger if we didn’t take him in. The whelp was nothing but trouble from the first day, taking food from Diddikin’s mouth, placing a burden on our family, making us put up with his freakishness,” she stated. “I understood all too well what we were hiding him from; they killed our parents, for heaven’s sake! All because Lily was a witch. Dumbledore made it sound as if we would be next if we did not take the boy in and allow the wards to be placed on the house. So, I took him in. But Vernon and I swore we would not have any magic in the house, so we figured we would beat him down so much that it would disappear.” She had said all this in a monotone voice, devoid of most emotion.

“You say he took money and food from your son, and yet you were paid a substantial sum every month to feed and clothe Harry. What did you do with the stipend?”

“No amount of money would have been enough to recompense us for sheltering him.”

“I see, so you pocketed the money, used it for yourself or your son, and spent none on your nephew?”

”Of course not! He wasn’t worth spending the money on. He should have been grateful that we gave him what we did! He had a roof over his head, clothes to wear, and enough food to keep him alive. We made sure that he earned every piece of clothing he wore and every scrap of food he ate. We were trying to make him normal!” she insisted.

“Earn… so he worked for you?” Jason looked down at his notes before raising his eyes to meet hers.

“He did the chores…”

“And most of the cooking?”

“Of course, he had to…”

“Earn his keep,” the lawyer said with her. Jason paced for a few moments before deciding on his next line of enquiry.

“How did you punish Harry?”

“Withheld meals, more chores, locked in his room…”

“Room? You mean the broom cupboard, don’t you, Mrs Dursley?”

“Room. He fit in there, Dudley needed the fourth bedroom for his toys,” she explained as if to a child. A low murmur arose along the gallery seats and Mrs Weasley could be heard snorting in derision.

“I see, and how was he disciplined?”

“Vernon took care of that, I would lock Harry in his room until Vernon could deal with his misbehaviour. I’m sure it was well deserved, whatever punishment my husband mete out to the boy.”

“I see, so kicking, thrashing with belts and large, dangerous belt buckles, and breaking bones as well as sexual abuse were well deserved punishment?”

She looked affronted. “I have no idea what you are talking about, I never saw any of that!” The Wizengamot began murmuring amongst themselves. She must’ve been telling the truth, they saw the serum administered!

Jason looked at her in disbelief, until understanding dawned in his face. “Mrs Dursley, were you ever present when your husband disciplined Harry?”

“No, that was Vernon’s purview; I let him handle it. At times I heard the boy crying like a puling little baby, but he was always fine the next morning and able to do his chores.”

“Mrs Dursley, I am going to show you some pictures of your nephew, the night he was rescued from your home.” He Accio-ed a pile of photo’s that Poppy had taken prior to her and Severus healing Harry. He held the stack facing her and slowly filed through them, showing each one of them to her. Her facial structure never changed as she watched the pictures shuffle. “This, madam, is what your husband did to your nephew that evening. Was this deserved?”

“He lost Vernon a very prominent account; he deserved what he got. He’s a freak; he needed to be shown that we do not tolerate his abnormality. He has been nothing but trouble and a burden. His parents were abhorrent and so is he. He should have died when his parents did,” she declared. Then she turned as far as the chains would let her, letting her gaze fall on Severus. “It was all your fault, you know, Snape! If you hadn’t filled her head with all those tales when we were children, she wouldn’t have gone to that school and would have been normal, like me. But, no, you had to go and tell her all the wonderful things that magic could do, and look where it got her and my parents: Dead!” She whipped back around to face the barrister standing in front of her.

Severus took the verbal lashing with equanimity, holding Harry tighter as her vitriol dripped from her tongue in an attempt to drown him in guilt. He was already there – he didn’t need to hear it from his ex-sister-in-law.

“I see. You do realise, Mrs Dursley, that when your husband beat Harry nearly to death, and you did nothing to help your nephew, that the protection wards that protected you from harm, were destroyed. As a result, you are on trial for numerous charges of child abuse, and you no longer have a home on Privet Drive, as the very elements you were being protected from were able to infiltrate and destroy your home. The punishment for aiding and abetting an attempted murder is the Dementor’s kiss. You might think on how, if you had only treated your nephew as you did your son, your soul might not be in such jeopardy.” Jason turned sad eyes on the woman still seated regally in the seat in front of him, before walking back to his seat and sitting down.

Madam Winterveil stood up. “Mr Ragger, do you have any questions for your client?”

“No, ma’am.” He looked dejected; the Veritaserum was ripping his case to shreds.

“In that case, Aurors, take the prisoner away while we determine a verdict.” She set up a silencing charm that effectively blocked the gallery and the floor from hearing the councillor’s debate and vote.

Harry had sat quite still in his seat, ignoring Severus’ attempts to calm him, flinching every time he heard his aunt disparage him. He seemed to be totally unaware of the tears running down his face. Severus eventually picked the boy up and placed him in his lap, curling his arms around his son as the child hid his face in his dad’s robes and closed his eyes as silent tears continued to pour out of his eyes. Severus sent scathing looks over at Albus. He felt that Albus was to blame for placing his son with these hateful Muggles without ever checking on his welfare in person, and ignoring all the warning signs that Arabella had notified him about. Severus was more determined than ever that Dumbledore would have minimal contact with Harry. He had done enough harm as it was.

When the council cancelled the charm and had returned to their seats, Madam Winterveil gavelled for attention after standing up.

“Petunia Dursley, you have been found guilty of all charges. You are to be sent to Azkaban for a period of eleven years, one for each year of abuse and neglect towards your nephew, after which time you will have your soul removed by the Dementors. Aurors, remove the prisoner to Azkaban.”

Petunia stood stiffly as soon as the chair released her. The Aurors grabbed hold of her elbows and marched her from the room via another door that Harry had not noticed before. He had looked up as the verdict had been read, turning his head so he could watch the proceedings, but still clinging to his father’s chest. As she was led away, without even a backward glance toward where he was sitting, he felt a huge lump of grief rise in his throat. Letting out a choked sob, he sank back into the strong arms protecting him, hiding his face again.

“Harry?” his father asked, solicitously.

“She… she never loved me, did she?” came the whispered question.

“I don’t know, son. But I do love you, so does Draco and Minerva and Poppy – you have lots of people who love you for you, Harry. Never forget that. Your friends love you, and your true family loves you.” He tightened his hold on his boy, and felt grateful when he felt his son relax just a smidgen. He conjured a hanky and handed it to Harry so he could dry his eyes and blow his nose as the clerk ordered Vernon to be brought to the chair. “That’s it; sit up now and don’t let him have a hold on you. Remember, I am here to protect you.”

Vernon struggled against the Aurors as they marched him to the seat; at one point having to restrain him magically as he made a bid to escape and attack Harry. They had caught him quickly, but the damage had already been done, and Vernon smirked as he saw the whelp cringe in terror in his daddy’s lap. As they wrestled him in the chair he had caught the boy’s eyes for a moment and gave a sleazy rake with his eyes while licking his lips in a lascivious manner. He saw the boy shiver and laughed as his head was whipped around and three drops of a liquid was forced onto his tongue.

Shacklebolt watched as the eyes glazed over, and when he determined that Vernon was under the influence, nodded to Allgood, retreating to his station near the Prisoner’s gate, wand at the ready, where he could watch Dursley for any sudden moves.

“Mr Dursley, you are in quite a situation here. You are under trial for attempted murder, first and foremost, along with sharing in all the charges of which your wife was just convicted. Are you aware of the consequences of your actions?”

“I was protecting my family from his unnatural behaviour. We didn’t want him; he was nothing but a bother, stealing from my son, and a burden on all of us. But he was decent with the chores and could cook a decent meal when he put what little mind he had to the task.”

“Did you ever let him share in the meals?”

“Of course not, he was a worthless piece of trash – not worth wasting the food I had spent my hard earned cash on. That was for my family, not unwanted lay-abouts.”

“Hard earned cash? May it please the court, I have details as to Mr Dursley’s wages he earned whilst employed at a Muggle factory, as well as the amount he received each month from Dumbledore to defray the cost of Harry’s upkeep while in the home. As you can see,” he pointed out as he conjured duplicates in front of every court member, “the stipend was more than he was paid each month at his regular job. The Dursleys were living off of Harry rather than the other way around.” He had turned to Vernon on this last statement and Vernon only smiled viciously at him.

“Well, he caused us more trouble than Dudley ever did,” he declared. “And my son was constantly afraid of him and his weirdness, as were we all. I had to beat normalcy into him.”

“Ah, is that what you call what you did on July thirtieth? Beating the normalcy into him?”

“Of course! That boy is vile and a waste of space; he was the death of his parents and we were making damn sure he would never be the cause of our deaths. We were too good for him, if truth be told. I was all for just leaving him in the street somewhere, didn’t want his kind around my son – what would the neighbours think if they ever found out he was a murdering freak? But Petunia insisted we had to keep him; some such claptrap about weirds and things.”

“Wards?” suggested Jason.

“Possibly, I wasn’t paying much attention.”

Jason decided to hurry the proceedings along, after sneaking a look back towards his client. Harry was breathing too quickly, moving his lips silently, and Severus had a death hold on the boy, glaring at the prisoner with such venom in his eyes that he was surprised Dursley was not dead yet. Ragger had slumped in his chair after throwing up his hands as his client had quickly and decisively built a hole so large, there was no way he would get out alive.

Jason took a huge breath and looked over at Harry. Harry had finally gone quiet as he listened to his uncle’s testimony. He had curled into as small a ball as was possible, next to Severus.

“If the court would excuse me a moment, I need to have a word with my client.” Winterveil nodded her assent and he quickly walked back to the table and approached McDonald.

“Whit, my next line of inquiry will be into the sexual abuse. I don’t think it would be a good idea for the boy to be here for that. We’re done with his statements, in any case.”

Whitney agreed with the advice and leaned over to Snape. “They are about to start the section on the abuse. I think it’s time Harry goes home. I’ll come over and let you know the verdicts.”

Severus agreed and, after coaxing his son to stand, walked the two of them out of the courtroom and back to Hogwarts. Whitney nodded to Jason, who had returned to standing in front of Dursley, that the coast was clear.

Jason Allgood cleared his throat before returning to his questioning. “Mr Dursley, did you use your nephew as a sexual release?”

“Yeah, I like ‘em young and tight,” he grinned. “Pet kept giving me excuses: headaches and that time of the month, so I decided to use the boy. Don’t let him fool you, he liked it – they always like it. Loved it when I would whip him first and then fuck him. The screams were delightful. He owed it to me! He was the reason Petunia stopped servicing me, so he had to pick up the slack!” he leered again over towards his nephew, and was surprised to see that the boy wasn’t there. He frowned, he was sure the boy had just been there. The gallery had exploded in outrage at Dursley’s statement, and Arthur Weasley was seen physically restraining his fire-headed wife, casting a silencing charm on her with a slight apologetic shrug of his shoulders towards the court. Winterveil was sympathetic and wished she could have vented like the Uber-mother.

Jason let the uproar die down before he continued with the questioning, covering the night Harry was rescued and various other incidents just to be thorough, but enough had been said already.

****

Severus took Harry home, Poppy following after, and they placed Harry in Severus’ bedroom, tucking him in after spelling a few draughts into his stomach. Whitney showed up an hour later to give them the results of the trial.

“Pushed through the veil after a Dementor’s kiss. Jason and I stayed and watched to make sure the sentence was carried out. The entire courtroom was placed under an oath not to reveal the contents of the trial and Harry’s abuse, so the details should not end up in the papers. I’m sorry Severus, we should have sent Harry out of there sooner. How is he?”

“Still unconscious. I can’t get through to him at all – even with our growing bond. Merlin, that man is vicious!” he ranted, raking his fingers through his hair in agitation.

He laid a gentle hand on Harry’s head then led Whitney out to the lounge area, closing the door until only a crack of dark shown around the edge. He wanted to be able to hear if Harry needed him. He went over to his liquor cabinet, unlocking it with a wave of his hand and pouring out two snifters worth of brandy. He handed one to Whitney and sat in his favourite chair, staring into the glasses contents, watching the light reflect in the dark amber depths.

“Whit, how far is this going to set him back?” he asked the child psychologist.

Whitney took a sip before answering the older man. “I won’t deny it is going to be a setback for him. I think he had us all convinced he would be able to handle the confrontation better than he did; however, we also weren’t taking into account Dursley’s sheer maniacal pleasure in torturing Harry, blaming him for everything that went wrong in their life.

“We rarely see a pathology, such as his, in the wizarding world; not that it doesn’t exist – but it is quite rare. It is much more common in the Muggle world, for some reason. These types of paedophiles, such as Dursley, tend to find each other and share their obsession, passing around the victims among each other. What is surprising is that Dursley acted alone, only used Harry, never shared him. Perhaps he felt that as Harry was his ‘property’, only he should be allowed to torment the child. We shall never know – nor do I really want to. The amount I do know is daunting on its own.

“At this point the only thing we can do, Severus, is just to continue with the therapies that we had started; continue to tell him, and show him, how much we care for him and eventually that shell will crack once again. He will probably not want to be touched for awhile – perhaps just you and your godson – but don’t refrain from punishment if he acts up; he’ll eventually want to test the waters, see how far you are willing to go. You need to set the boundaries and stick to them. He told me last week that you had originally set those boundaries when he first moved in – how are they holding?”

“We haven’t had any disasters with them. The worst punishment the boys have had is cleaning cauldrons and preparing ingredients, other than an occasional mouth washing. I…” He broke off as Draco came bounding through the door, book bag swinging from his shoulder.

“Where is he? What happened?” he asked breathlessly, pale eyes flicking between the two older men.

“Draco, sit down,” Severus commanded.

“Uncle Sev, I want to see him!” he insisted, pouting slightly at being denied.

“Draco,” Severus growled in warning. The blond gave him a look then plopped down on the divan, dropping his bag to the floor next to him.

“Harry is asleep in my room. I don’t want you disturbing him. He had a very bad reaction to the trial; he learnt that his relatives truly didn’t want him, and in fact hated his mere existence. I think he knew that, intellectually, but he was forced to acknowledge it emotionally as he heard it come out under Veritaserum. It was just too much for him. Add to that, his uncle tried to come after him in the courtroom several times, scaring him.”

“What was the verdict?”

“His cousin is in reform school, and will be on probation afterwards for quite some time; his aunt got eleven years in Azkaban with a kiss at the end, and his uncle was kissed right after the trial and sent through the veil.”

“Good!” Draco said viciously. “Uncle, please – I’ll be really quiet, I just need to see him for myself!”

Severus sighed. He was glad the boys were bonding, but sometimes Draco got very possessive. “All right, brat, go check on your brother – but don’t you dare wake him up!” The boy bounced up in glee, beaming at his godfather as he headed towards the man’s bedroom.

“I won’t! Thanks!”

Draco gently pushed open the door and let the light from the lounge spill across the large four-poster bed that took up most of the room’s square footage. He could hear Severus and Mr McDonald talking in low voices behind him, but he was fully concentrated on his friend.

He eased himself past the door, closing it quietly behind him, and walked up to the bed where he could take a look at his brother for himself. He studied the small face, reposed in sleep, taking in the messy shoulder length hair that so resembled Severus’. The duvet was tucked up under his chin and he had it clutched around his scrunched up body in a death grip.

Just as Draco reached out a hand to push back some hair that had fallen in Harry’s face, Harry let out a huge sigh and opened his eyes. He shook his head to move the offending lock, and caught sight of the other boy.

“Hey,” Harry said as he began to uncurl and force himself to sit-up.

“Hey, yourself. How do you feel? Uncle Sev said you didn’t do too well at the trial.” He sat down on the end of the bed as Harry drew his knees up to his chest in his customary guarded position, and wrapped his arms tight around them.

“I, uh, did alright until Vernon came out. It was really hard to hear Aunt Petunia say she’d never wanted me, but then Uncle Vernon…” he whispered, shaking his head.

“I understand,” Draco said, reaching out to touch his brother, but Harry skittered back against the headboard.

“Sorry, I just don’t want anyone touching me right now, alright?” came the quiet explanation. Harry’s green eyes were wide with fear, barely held in check.

“Merlin, if he wasn’t dead already – I’d kill him!” Draco exclaimed.

“He’s dead?” Harry couldn’t believe that it was over. How could it be over?

“Yes, son, he’s dead.” Severus had entered the room, unheard by either boy, and was followed by Whitney.

Draco was immediately on his feet. “I didn’t wake, him Uncle Sev, I swear!”

“I know, Dragon. I felt him awaken along our bond.” He stopped and gave Draco’s shoulder a pat before continuing on.

He walked around the bed to sit on the other side and Harry hesitated a moment before letting his father lay a comforting arm over his shoulders. After a moment, Harry looked up at his advocate.

“I’m sorry…” he started.

“What for, Harry?”

“For breaking down in court. I thought I could handle it… I just wanted it over…”

“Harry, that was not your fault. Anyone faced with that would have reacted just the same. I’m surprised you lasted as long as you did. But it’s over now, he can no longer get to you, and you will never see your aunt again, either.” Harry nodded before leaning his head on his father’s shoulder.

Whitney motioned to Draco that it was time to leave. “Draco, let’s leave Harry alone for now with Severus. He needs to get more sleep. You may return tomorrow, alright?”

“Yes, sir,” said Draco a bit reluctantly, but he got up anyway and after giving his godfather a hug and giving his brother an encouraging smile, he left the bedroom, walking past Whitney, who held the door open for him.

“Severus, I’ll be by tomorrow morning to check on Harry. I’ll see Draco and myself out.”

“Thank you, Whitney,” Severus responded gratefully. After the two other Slytherins left his room, he scooted himself closer to Harry and began carding his hand through the teen’s hair. “Do you want to talk at all?”

Harry just shook his head.

“I understand; you don’t have to say anything, just take your time. Whitney has assured me that nothing will be reported tomorrow. Do you want to take tomorrow off? You can, but it might just leave you brooding.”

“I don’t know. I just feel wrung out, Dad.” He was silent for a little longer. “How… how could they feel that way? What did I do to them? Am I that bad of a person? I used to try anything to get them to approve of me – just give me some praise; but if I made good grades, I was horrible for showing up Dudders, and if I did poorly, it just verified to them that I was a stupid, good for nothing freak. I just don’t understand. Nothing I ever did satisfied them.” He sniffed for a moment and started to wipe his face on his pyjama sleeve, but Severus halted that movement and handed him a handkerchief instead.

“Manners, son – even when we are alone,” he chided softly.

“Yes, Dad.” Harry wiped his eyes and blew his nose. “I think I just want to sleep, I’m not even hungry. I’ll just head off to my bed…” He made to get out from under the covers, but Severus held him back.

“Sleep here, son. I don’t mind, and this way I can monitor you. I think a dose of Dreamless sleep is required and I shall let you skip this meal, but you must eat tomorrow.” Harry agreed to this readily and drank down the vial of potion that his father had summoned then let the man settle him back under the covers. Severus sat down on the side of the bed, running a loving hand along his son’s head and down along his back, soothing the boy off to sleep. Within minutes, Harry’s breathing had evened out and he was oblivious to everything around him.

Severus walked out to the lounge, and was startled to see Draco still there.

“Aren’t you supposed to be up in the Great Hall for dinner?” he asked, retaking his seat in front of the floo.

“Not hungry. I’m worried about him, Uncle Sev.”

“As am I, Draco,” he admitted. “However, as Mr McDonald correctly pointed out, we need to show Harry that people really do care for, and love, him. With time, hopefully, he will heal enough to realise that. As you know, you can’t completely heal from injuries such as these – oh, the visible scars can be removed, or hidden, but the emotional scars take a long time to lessen in their pain. We have to be there for him, when he eventually reaches out. We had made such progress over the last few weeks, and this has just set him back. Can you be patient with him?” he asked his godson seriously.

“Of course I can.”

“That’s all I ask. Now, it is time you head off to your dorm – I know you haven’t finished my essay for tomorrow, have you?” The momentary panic that showed on the young Slytherin’s face was answer enough for the stern professor. “Then, off you go.” He shooed his godson out the door and watched until the boy disappeared around the corner that led to the Slytherin common room.