Screaming was the first thing Snape heard as he approached the hospital wing. It was an agonized wail, filled with a certain yearning that was moving even to his marred soul. He hastened his steps to the infirmary and threw open the door.

Harry was crouched catlike in a corner, his green eyes blazing angrily as he alternated between wailing piteously and hissing at Dumbledore and Pomfrey. In turn, they were at a loss, seemingly afraid to move any nearer to him.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” he muttered. “Are you wizards or not?”

“Do you suggest that we continue to sedate him?” Dumbledore asked mildly. “This had to be dealt with at some point.”

“Not by you,” Severus muttered. “I should have been the one to rouse him.”

“Yes, well, you’re here now.” And with that, Dumbledore left the room. Pomfrey was right behind him, pausing only to drop some potions bottles on the bed beside Severus. Then, he was alone, with only a savage Harry for company. Shite.

The kid was seven years old, for Merlin’s sake. Severus had twenty someodd years on him, not to mention the fact that he was a reformed Death Eater. What did he have to be afraid of? Still, he could not help but feel a certain sense of foreboding. After all, if he could not get past this crucial milestone, the road ahead would be all but impossible. This was it, the big test. Did he, Severus Snape, have what it took to help this child?

He crouched down on the floor, feeling a bit like an overgrown ape, and tried to remain at eye level with the boy so he would be less intimidating, a technique he’d heard in a teaching course which he’d never put to practice before. Now, crouched like a fool and struggling with what to do next, he wished he’d taken the course more seriously. He floundered with his memory for a bit, trying to recall something that would be of use. Use good body language… Speak in a firm but controlled voice… Tell the child what you expect from them.

Sighing, Severus said what came naturally to him. “Alright, there, Harry… You’re alright. Nobody’s going to hurt you anymore- I won’t let them.”

Harry tipped his head slightly to the side at Severus’s words, but from animal instinct or actual understanding, Severus couldn’t say. It didn’t really mater at this point. Severus knew better than to aim for the stars this first day. This struggle would be through a series of short-term goals. The first was to get Harry to cease behaving like a total animal.

“That’s right, Harry,” Severus said encouragingly. “There’s nothing to fear here. It’s just you and me. You can calm down a bit.”

By the time Severus said the last part, Harry had already stopped carrying on, more interested in studying Severus with those penetrating green eyes. Still, he thought it pertinent to try and connect actions with words. Saying calm down after Harry had done so might allow him to connect the two.

“Now, Harry, I know you’re scared and confused right now but I want you to try and trust me,” Severus said. Hah! What a joke. Who in their right minds would trust Severus Snape? He didn’t even trust himself. He held a hand out to the boy in an unquestionable request for Harry to come nearer.

Harry stared, transfixed, at the hand. He trembled a great deal, glancing nervously at Snape’s face every few seconds and then back to the hand, his fingers toying anxiously with the hem of his filthy shirt. As a general rule, Severus was not a patient man, but he found that he had patience enough for this. Harry was, after all, trying very hard to be brave. With his past, it was sure to be hard.

After a long wait, during which time Harry seemed to be debating with himself, the small child took a tentative step forward, out of his corner. When nothing frightening happened, he took another, and another, until he finally placed his grubby little hand into Severus’s palm.

“There’s a good lad,” Severus murmured, giving Harry a bare smile. The boy appeared as terrified and skittish as ever, but gone was the rabid look in his eyes and the vicious behavior he had previously exhibited.

The question was, what was he to do now? Pomfrey obviously meant for him to give Harry the potions, but it seemed an indecent way to repay the boy’s bravery. Surely there should be a reward for that first, with the potions following.

Severus thought for a moment and then he transfigured a bedpan into a simple foam ball that changed colors. It wasn’t much in the way of rewards, he thought dubiously, but given his lack of preparation on that count, it would have to do. He still felt guilty as he held the ball out to Harry, but the child’s look of wonder at the simple gift was enough to vanquish his fears. To Severus it may be a simple ball, but to Harry it was as precious as gold.

“That’s your ball to keep forever,” Severus said. He felt foolish, not knowing how much Harry could understand, but it seemed important to use the façade of making normal conversation with him.

Severus allowed Harry to indulge in frivolities with the ball only a few minutes before he tried the next task- medication. That had, after all, been the point in waking the child. The three bottles Pomfrey had left on the bed stared ominously at Severus. They were basic enough- a nutrition potion, a growth-inducing potion, and a healing potion. All three would be important for Harry’s physical recovery... and they all tasted vile.

Sighing, Severus uncorked the healing potion and held it out to Harry. Harry, in turn, gave the bottle a suspicious glare and a little hiss.

“None of that,” Severus reprimanded. “Drink it. It’s for your own good.”

Harry continued to glare, but when Severus made no move to cease offering it, the boy gave what was unmistakably a sigh. He reached out a shaking hand for the bottle and took it from Severus. Harry sniffed the contents tentatively and then, to Severus’s delight, tipped his head back and emptied the bottle in one swig. It was only after that he seemed to taste it. He gave a loud shout and chucked the bottle away from him with unnatural force, narrowly missing Severus’s head.

“No!” Severus snapped, “No throwing things. That was very bad.”

Harry’s lower lip trembled dangerously. Big, fat tears welled up in his eyes and began to track down his cheeks, and he whimpered just the tiniest bit before curling into a tight ball.

“Aw, hell,” Snape muttered. “I’m not the bloke to deal with crying.”

Severus looked about desperately for someone to take over, but it was not to be. He frowned a bit, his eyes going from the shattered glass on the floor to the shattered boy in front of him, and then, with another mutter of, “Aw, hell,” he took a cautious step towards Harry.

Severus hesitated a bit before gently carding a hand through Harry’s unruly mop. To his surprise, Harry didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned almost instinctively into the touch. Severus gave a little sigh of relief, continuing to card his hand through Harry’s hair until the child unfurled himself and rested his head upon Severus’s chest.

Severus sighed. “There’s my good boy. You’re okay.”

In truth, Severus was beginning to feel uncomfortable. It had been decent of him to comfort the boy when he was wailing, but this extra comforting felt odd. If someone walked in now his reputation would be shot to pieces.

To his relief, Harry pulled away on his own after a minute. He looked around, seeming lost and desolate. Severus supposed that it was justified in a way- as much as he was against any forms of self pity, Harry had a right to feel out of sorts in this sudden new environment. Hopefully, it would change soon.

“You still have two more potions to take,” Severus murmured apologetically. “I promise that if you drink them like a good boy, I’ll give you a special treat after.”

Harry frowned a second before holding his foam ball up to Severus. Severus smiled. So Harry did understand what he was saying, at least to some extent.

“Yes, Harry, like your ball,” Severus confirmed. “But to get the treat, you have to drink both potions like a good boy- and no throwing. Understand?”

He didn’t expect Harry to respond, and indeed Harry stayed silent, playing absently with his shirt while he kicked his ball from foot to foot. Sighing, Severus grabbed the nutrient potion from the bed and held it out to Harry.

“Enh!” Harry pushed at Severus’s hand, baring his teeth.

“No,” Severus said, being sure to keep his voice level. “No pushing. Drink the potion.”

“Enh!”

“Harry.”

Harry whined and kicked his feet a little, his brow furrowed in a stubborn crease. Severus took a deep breath, reminding himself to have some patience... Dealing with Harry was worse than an entire class of Hufflepuff first years.

“Come on, Harry. I know it doesn’t take very good but it will help you grow up big and strong. And remember our deal- cooperate and you get a treat.”

Harry raised his ball, his eyes wide.

“Like your ball, right.”

Harry spent a long time considering the proposal. Finally, frowning a little, he leaned forward so he was on his knees in front of Severus, too close for Severus’s comfort. Harry placed two fingers upon the potions bottle, and then he moved them to Severus’s lips. Then he brought them to the potions bottle again, and then to his own lips. He had to repeat the motion several times before Severus understood.

“If I take a sip, you’ll drink the rest?” Severus asked.

Harry cocked his head to the side, seeming to concentrate. Sighing, Severus uncorked the potion and took a small sip. He allowed a grimace to grace his features, knowing Harry would be more angered by his usual decorum than if he let himself go a little. His deed done, he offered the vial to Harry.

Harry sighed a little but this time he took it, tipped his head back, and downed it all in one gulp. He then did an uncanny impersonation of Snape’s half-grimace.

Snape snorted as he took the vial from Harry. “Cheeky little blighter.”

Harry squished his ball in one hand and gave what almost passed as a grin when it reshaped as he opened his fist. Watching him, Severus had to smile, reputation be damned. He made up for it by quickly grabbing the third vial and uncorking it. He would not allow Harry to con him into forgetting his priorities by being cute.

Catching Harry’s eye, Severus gave a small sip of this one as well before handing it over. Harry puffed out his cheeks, drank it down, and seemed to be on the verge of throwing this bottle against wall as he had the first. He caught sight of Severus, however, and paused. Then he held it out to Severus, his green eyes wide.

“Thank you, Harry,” Severus said. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

The result was almost instantaneous. There was the trembling lip, the big, fat tears, the soft whimper, and then he was curled up in a ball, crying. Severus, found that he wasn’t as panicked this time, only curious. As he once again sat with the child, carding a hand through Harry’s hair, he tried to think of what could have caused this outburst. It was the second one in twenty minutes, and as he wasn’t keen to experience more of them, it seemed like a good idea to discern the cause.

The best place to start, he thought, was to try and find a correlation between the two incidents. When Harry had first cried, Severus had thought it was his tone of voice that set the boy off, but this time he’d been praising him, s that couldn’t be it. The obvious parallel would be that it happened right after Harry took the medicine, but he took the potion one other time without incident, so he cast that explanation aside. There must, then, be a connection in the words themselves.

Thank you, Harry. That wasn’t so bad, was it?
No, no throwing things. That was very bad.

And there was the connecting rod. One word, one common word. One word that would be recognized by Harry above every other. Bad. Severus had an unsettling feeling that it was the word that preceded each of the scars that marred what should have been clear skin on Harry’s young body. No wonder his instinct was to curl into a ball. Protect his face and stomach. Damn muggles. Severus gathered the child into his arms, his chin on the boy’s head, and whispered, “What am I going to do with you?”