Severus arrived at the gargoyle below the headmaster's office and growled the password. I dearly hope you were ignorant of this, Albus, though if you were it would be a serious oversight on your part. How could you NOT know? How could you leave it be if you DID?

Turning his back on the pleading child had disturbed Severus terribly, but not as much as the thought that Albus could have prevented his pain. He couldn't bear to think that Albus had known; that he'd known and done nothing, but if he hadn't known...then perhaps their general was slipping. He'd long since known that Albus was neither omniscient nor omnipotent, but the thought that the man could age frightened Severus terribly. Beyond his own feelings, they could not afford to lose Albus Dumbledore now. I'd rather him old and senile than immoral, though.

The gargoyle leapt aside and Severus ascended the steps. The door opened before his knock, as usual, and for once Severus wasn't even irked. He had more important things to focus on. The headmaster offered him a sherbet lemon, but quickly put it aside under the force of Severus' glare.

“All right, we'll get straight to the point, then. How can I help you, Severus?”

“You can tell me how much attention you have been paying to that boy as he's been growing up. Surely you've been checking up on him?”

“Yes of course, I've had old Order members checking on him every six months or so – not talking to him, of course-”

“Of course.” Severus answered with a sneer, so angry he was almost spitting, “of course, why not? Abused children are so easy to tell from a distance. They wear signs on their foreheads and show their bruises to every passerby.”

“Severus, please, what are you talking about?” The headmaster's face had abruptly whitened at the word abused; and no trace of the twinkle that made so many underestimate him remained.

“Well surely, you know, Albus? You mean you didn't notice, checking on the boy every six months, that he was starving? That his uncle kicked him regularly hard enough to break ribs? But of course that's nothing to worry about, kids ribs are so weak, I'm sure the blow was nothing. And he's probably just a picky eater. And the welts-”

But the look on Albus' face was so injured that Severus finally got a rein on his temper. Thank Merlin, he really didn't know. Severus was still angry, that the man could have been so blind, but at least he'd not knowingly left the boy to rot.

“Please, Severus, just tell me. How bad is it? Is he going to be okay?”

“Physically?” The sarcasm in the potions master's voice was caustic. “Absolutely. The infected welts can be cleansed, the rib mended, the bruises treated. He'll be perfect in about two days.”

“Severus, please, you have – every reason to be angry with me, but it's not helpful right now. I need to know what we're dealing with, here. I don't” – the headmaster winced, and his voice turned pleading – “I need to know what he needs, what we can do to help him, now. I need to know how to fix this. Besides that-” the general reappeared- “I don't want to end up with another Dark Lord or powerful Death Eater on our hands. I know that you-

“Yes, thank you, I'm fully cognizant of that. But no, I don't think that the boy's particularly similar to me. For one thing, he's got more friends than he knows what to do with, where I – did not. For another, for the moment the only person he seems to hate is me, and that -” This time Severus winced,

“-that's my fault, not his. I believe that the problem will be his ability to trust people, adults especially. I've only observed him for a couple of weeks but he clearly expects me to hit him for anything and nothing. I doubt that that expectation is truly only in reaction to me, though I have done-” Severus grimaced again,

“-little to ameliorate the situation. If I'm right, and it is the uncle that has hurt him the worst, it is likely that his strongest reactions will be to men. Again, he's only been here for a couple weeks, so I can only conjecture based on other children that I have dealt with. Certainly the boy is a little gun-shy.”

“Excuse me, gun-shy?”

“Jumpy, skittish. I waved a hand at him and he started to flashback.”

“Oh.” The headmaster's mind whirled, trying desperately to come to terms with the new information. This child – his responsibility to protect, when his parents had done so much for the cause, this child - his duty to watch over, for the sake of the entire wizarding world – this child had been left in an abusive household due to his oversight, his distraction. Left to fear adults, left unable to tell friend from foe, “gun shy.” I've got to be able to fix this, somehow.

But how could he? An how could he have known, really? His spies had noticed nothing. And, like before, he just didn't have the time. His job was to delegate, not to do. A general could not afford to get too involved in the details, to lose the big picture. Harry, though. Harry was not a 'detail.' Harry should not have slipped through the cracks.

“Will he – can we deal with him here? Or should we find someplace for him to stay, for him to heal, before coming back to Hogwarts?”

“No. The one thing the boy needs the most, now, is stability. I will not remove him from his friends and his home. He's been doing fine so far, I think, though as you-” he coughed, “pointed out to me, I have not been watching him particularly closely.”

The headmaster raised a hand – that was old news. “Neither, clearly, have I. Now is not the time for recriminations. It is, however, imperative that you really take the boy in hand now. He needs even more help than we had originally imagined.”

Severus was a bit startled. “You still want me to do this, Albus? Yes, Lily asked me to help the boy, and yes, I will fight to keep him safe, but I am neither worthy nor capable of caring for him. If you truly will it, I will do what I can, but for the love of Merlin I am the reason that boy's parents are dead. What basis is that for a relationship? You want a Death Eater to care for Harry Potter, Albus?! The normal children fear me, and for good reason!”

The headmaster looked at him with the tiniest smile on his face, the smallest twinkle back in his eye, but when he spoke his voice was stern.

“We have been through this, Severus. You are not a Death Eater. You are a good man, and I cannot abide hearing you say otherwise. I am certain of this, Severus. You will be- best able to predict his needs. He needs to learn to trust, and you are, indeed, trustworthy, and, whether you believe it or not, perfectly capable of dealing with a troubled child. Lily would not put her child in the hands of someone she did not trust. Just take things as they come.” Again the headmaster's voice became brisk and professional.

“There are also several purely practical considerations to take into account. You are male, you are here, and you already know what you're dealing with. I'd rather keep this under wraps as much as possible: we do not need the remaining Death Eaters to know just how vulnerable little Harry is. Better that they see him for the angry young man than the fragile child.”

“You're not going to tell anyone?”

“Minerva, definitely, but she is the only other who needs to know, I think. Why, did you have anyone in mind?”

“No, it's just that Ha-Potter – also does not want anyone to know. He was angry enough to know that  I knew, and was telling you. I would rather not betray him further.”

“You are not-”

“He believes I am. He fought hard to keep his secret, and I have not only pried it from him but told you. All this when he knows that I'm at least supposed to be looking out for his best interest. As far as he's concerned, that is betrayal, and all he can expect from me as an adult.” 

The headmaster studied Severus' face, looking very sad. “We'll just have to do what we can. With any luck he will eventually come to realize that you have helped him, that you continue to help him.” Severus didn't know quite what to think of that. Being the trusted and respected mentor to an abused child went against every image he had of himself. Could he ever get there? Did he want to?

“Very well, sir. If you don't need anything?” The headmaster smiled slightly at his protégées confusion.

“No, Severus. Go do whatever you need to do.”

Severus left, closing the door on the annoying, manipulative old coot that he'd come to love and respect over so many years.

Before he'd even gotten down the staircase he heard an alarm go off in the headmaster's office, and ran back up.

“Where?” Asked Severus shortly. He knew that that particular alarm meant indicated a level of destruction that was unlikely to come from any student's prank or potions mistake.

“The infirmary,” answered the headmaster breathlessly, and both ran for the floo.