Severus Snape, spy, potions master, lover of fine cognac and grumpy bat of Hogwarts dungeons had many faults. He had an unpleasant, prickly personality, was quick to take offense and had little patience for fools.

Severus was well aware of these 'quirks' to his personality, in fact he cultivated some of them with the assiduousness of a master gardener. He had found through many years of experience that it was much safer for his position as a spy if he remained aloof from others, allowing them to think what they would about him while he used his keen powers of observation to gain much valuable information from them. He had maintained his façade through the years of Voldemort's absence, hoping that the evil man was gone, but fearing that he was not. The return of his 'master' the previous year had borne out his fears, and he had found that keeping his wits sharp through the years had stood him in good stead when he resumed his spying for the Order.

Severus snorted and swirled the amber liquid in his snifter as he contemplated the Gordian knot that was his life. Nothing was ever simple for him, but at least life still had its amusements, Dark Lord or no. One of his favorite games involved analyzing his student's personalities to determine if he agreed with the sorting hat's results. It was surprising to him that the hat, even after a thousand years, was correct more often than not.

Ron Weasley, for example, was the prototypical Gryffindor. Loud, brash, speaking before thinking, brave to the point of insanity, any scrap of intelligence he possessed, and Severus was sure it was precious little, totally overwhelmed by the boy's inability to control his emotions.

Hermione Granger, on the other hand, should have been either a Ravenclaw or, surprisingly enough, a Slytherin. Yes she had intelligence in spades, but the thirst to prove herself a valuable member of this rather insular society and the ambition to be the best at every academic pursuit was pure Slytherin. It was too bad that she also had a wide streak of courage and a total lack of finesse; she would have been a superlative snake with a bit more guile and cunning.

Draco Malfoy, on the other hand, would have made a decent Gryffindor; his total inability to govern either his words or his impulsive actions was more indicative of that house than his own. And wouldn't Lucius' face have been a sight to see if his son had gone to the lions!

Harry Potter, now there was a conundrum. Surely he had the heedlessness of much of his house; however he was also fully capable of concocting and executing a flawless plan. He had a certain disregard for rules which bespoke a Slytherin. He was well known for his love and loyalty to his friends, who else would have gone after the Weasley girl when she was in the Chamber of Secrets? That would speak to the Hufflepuff in his nature. The only house he had seen no trace of in Harry Potter was Ravenclaw, his classwork in Potions was abysmal.

On the other hand, some of the other professors, McGonagall and Flitwick in particular, had commented more than once that he was quite competent in their respective courses and Merlin knew he was able to negotiate his way through Defense Against the Dark Arts. Perhaps there was more Ravenclaw lurking than was apparent.

Severus pushed himself up from his comfortable leather easy chair and wandered to the sideboard for more cognac. Just one more, after all the leaving feast was tomorrow, all of his grading was done, Voldemort was still recovering from the fiasco at the ministry, why not indulge himself a bit. The removal of that hag Umbridge practically necessitated a celebratory libation. He settled himself in his chair in front of the fire with a contented sigh and returned to his cogitations.

Where was he? Ah yes, Harry Bloody Potter, the boy-who-lived-to-be-a-disappointing-enigma. Snape considered the times he'd had dealings with Potter this year. There were the shenanigans at the ministry that started the year, and then the whole thing with Arthur Weasley and the snake, the total disaster that was occlumency lessons and then the even worse disaster at the ministry.

If he was honest with himself, which he did try to be, some of the responsibility for the ministry was his fault. Potter had had no reason to trust him, and frankly he had no reason to trust Potter, or even understand him. Even though he'd spent much time this year delving into the young man's mind, Severus had no more understanding of him than he had before the lessons started.

Considering the role the boy was to play in the upcoming war, it behooved him to know more about Potter and his motivations. The problem was the method to be used to determine the information. It wasn't like he could give the boy Veritaserum, he wasn't even sure what questions to ask. This would require some thought and perhaps some research, he decided as he stared meditatively into the fire. And he had two days before the students left for the summer, plenty of time to implement a plan.

Severus sat himself at the head table the next morning and looked around the room. He was the first of the staff members to appear, which played perfectly into his plan. He'd brought a book to read as he waited for his quarry to show up, the elves would keep his coffee cup full which would make the wait more bearable. He looked up and sneered lightly as the first students, a group of first year Hufflepuffs, quietly meandered to their table. Serving dishes and platters appeared along the tables and Severus helped himself to some eggs and toast, inhaling the appealing aroma of the coffee that appeared in his mug. None of that weak tea pap the others were so fond of, give him a full bodied Columbian roast any day! It was a pity that Hogsmeade didn't have a coffee shop; during the breaks he often patronized the more upscale establishments in muggle London. It was a grand way to avoid people he didn't want to talk with.

He peered over the rim of his cup as he pulled the book out of his pocket. By now half of Hufflepuff, a third of Ravenclaw, a sprinkling of Slytherins and no Gryffindors had made their appearance. Obviously he was in for a wait before his prey appeared. Lazy little sods.

Severus glanced up occasionally as he read. None of the other instructors bothered him, each of them having learned many years ago that disturbing Severus in the middle of a book was tantamount to suicide. There was only a half hour left before the end of breakfast when Potter finally appeared accompanied by his merry band of miscreants. Severus glared malevolently at them, more to keep up appearances than out of any real sense of distaste. He covertly observed Potter as the boy sat at the Gryffindor table surrounded by his friends. Hmmm, a bit pasty today, but perhaps only to be expected considering he'd just lost his dog-father. That level of distraction should aid his quest nicely.

Harry pushed the food around on his plate, listening half-heartedly to his friends and wishing that he'd wake up and find the last few days had been a nightmare. It was bad enough losing Sirius, but the knowledge that he'd led his friends into an ambush and that Hermione and Ron had both been seriously injured ate at his heart. Having to go back to the Dursley's in two days made things even worse. He looked up with a start as Ginny's elbow nudged him into awareness. "What?"

Ginny eyed him in concern. "Harry, you haven't eaten anything, you need to keep your strength up or Mum will go spare when she sees you."

"I'm not hungry. I'll catch up with you at lunch," Harry said as he slid out of his seat at the table and walked toward the door, head down and shoulders slumped. Ginny, Neville and Hermione watched with concern as he left, neither of them noticing that Professor Snape left his place at the staff table at the same time and ghosted after their friend.

Severus had casually put away his book and absentmindedly sipped his coffee while he watched the interplay between the children, so he was ready to slip away and follow Harry when he left the hall. A quick duck behind a suit of armor and a deft flick of his invisibility cloak provided him with the perfect cover under which to follow his student.

Harry stopped at the bottom of the main stairs, completely unaware of the man following him. He looked toward the main doors seemingly in deep thought before turning and trudging up the stairs. Severus crept after the slowly moving boy, fairly certain of their eventual destination.

"Harry!"

Severus cursed silently and flattened himself to the wall on the stairs as Hermione chased after Harry. He'd allowed himself to commit the sin of losing concentration on his surroundings while following Potter. Not a good thing to do in the relatively safe confines of the castle, on the field of battle or in the company of Voldemort it could be deadly.

Harry turned and watched Hermione run up the stairs towards him. "Should you be moving that quickly?"

Hermione drew up next to her friend, puffing slightly. "I'm fine, Harry, I'll be taking some potions for awhile, but I'm ok. I'm more concerned about you."

"I'm fine," Harry said as he looked at his scuffed and worn shoes.

"Harry, you'd say you were fine if you were on your death bed. Besides, I've been watching you for the last 5 years, by now I can tell when you're feeding me a story."

Hermione reached into her pocket and pulled out a book with a quill attached to it. "When I was 10 my grandmother died. I was really close to her, Nana taught me to knit, she was always there with a hug when everyone else made fun of me for being a bookworm, she always made me feel like I was the most important thing in the world when I was little. Anyway, when she died my mother gave me a notebook. She told me that it was ok to miss Nana, that Nana had been an important part of my life and that I would never forget her. She also suggested that I write down what I was feeling in the book, that no one would ever read it, and it was mine to do with as I would. I ignored it for awhile, but one day I saw the book sitting in the middle of my desk and decided to give it a try. The more I wrote the better I felt. I started by writing my favorite memories of Nana down in it, then I started writing my feelings down in it, and finally I started writing letters to Nana about what was happening in my life." Hermione paused for a moment and looked at Harry, checking to see he was still listening.

Harry looked up at his friend, surprised she was sharing such a personal confidence with him. "Is that it?" he asked, pointing to the book.

"No," she said, holding up the blue leather bound book for him to see. "This is for you. I owl ordered it for you. Look, I'm not telling you that you have to write everything down, but I know it really helped me, and I'm guessing that the Dursley's won't be helping you very much, so it might be worth a try."

Harry accepted the book and looked at it for moment. "Thanks, Hermione, I'll think about it." He slowly turned and trudged up the stairs leaving Hermione watching him with a look of concern on her face.

Severus waited on the stairs until Hermione pivoted and headed back down to the Great Hall. He took the stairs two at a time trying to catch up to his elusive prey and trying to decide where the boy was likely to go. There were three options he could think of. If he went to the right the child's destination could only be Gryffindor tower. If he went left the most likely goal was either the astronomy tower or one of the unused classrooms on the fourth floor. If he had to bet on it he would wager Potter would go to the right. Ahhh, yes, there was the flip of a black robe going around the corner on the right, Gryffindor tower it was. Luckily he knew a shortcut to the tower, with a little luck he could be there before the little ruffian got to the portrait.

The amount of dust on the floor of the passage Severus was skimming swiftly down showed that this generation of students had not discovered it. A pause at the end of the shortcut to listen carefully for movement on the other side of the concealing tapestry, a deft flip of the edge of the fabric and he was standing opposite the guardian to Gryffindor's tower. The fat lady reclined on her chaise, a glass of what appeared to be wine clasped loosely in her hand as she stared into space, a bored expression on her painted face.

He leaned against the wall as he waited; making sure that the cloak concealed all of his lanky frame. What was taking the dratted boy so long? Ahh, wait, was that a footstep? Indeed it was, he thought as he watched Potter drag himself to the fat lady.

Severus ghosted along behind Harry as he approached the portrait.

"Password, dearie?" she asked sympathetically.

"Fwoopers"

The portrait opened and Harry climbed through unaware of the menacing presence following him. Severus was a bit surprised that the supposed savior of the world was so oblivious that he was able to follow him all the way across the garishly decorated common room to the base of the stairs without the boy being aware he was there. That did not speak well for the boy's ability to survive in a battle situation, he snarked to himself.

The potions master paused at the base of the stairs and muttered a quiet spell to silence his footsteps before following his student up the stairs to the fifth year boy's dorm. By the time he got to the doorway of the room, which was thankfully standing open, Harry had seated himself on what Severus assumed was his bed and was staring blankly at nothing. Severus watched from a corner of the room as the boy moped silently. Harry finally sighed, stood up, and ambled over to the window to stare out; leaving the book Hermione had given him on his bed.

Severus was beginning to lose patience. Was the boy never going to leave and let him poke around? If he didn't hurry more of the little idiots were going to descend and he'd lose his chance. Finally Potter left the window, grabbed his broom from where it was stored beside his bed and left the room.

The potions master waited quietly in the corner for a few more minutes, listening intently to determine if anyone was approaching but there was nothing but silence.

He made his way swiftly over to the foot of Potters' bed and lifted the lid of the trunk slowly and carefully. Luckily it was a newer trunk so there was no ominous creak to give his presence away as it was opened. Severus eyed the contents scattered on the top of the trunk getting a feel for where everything was so that they could be returned to the same place when he was done with his prying.

The top layer consisted primarily of the most ragged and stained scraps of fabric it had been his dubious pleasure to examine. The first piece turned out to be a t-shirt of some sort, but it was obviously too big for someone of Potter's diminutive stature. The further down in the trunk the professor went the worse the condition of the clothing that he found. What in the world was Potter doing with these pitiful things? Were they kept out of some sort of sentimental feeling?

The next layer was comprised of old text books and some quidditch magazines, and surprisingly enough some leisure reading. Severus was rather surprised a child with little apparent interest in his school work would have such an eclectic collection of muggle works. He recognized the Lord of the Rings trilogy and The Sword in the Stone from when he was a child, but the mysteries and nonfiction books were unfamiliar to him. Yet more information that did not add up to what he knew about Dumbledore's golden boy.

The third and final layer in Potter's trunk was made up of bits of old parchment, broken quills, an old, apparently broken Sneakoscope, some owl treats and scattered glass shards. Nothing there that he could use. Perhaps the wardrobe, he thought as he quietly closed the lid of the trunk.

Severus glided over to the small wardrobe next to the Gryffindor's bed and slowly opened its doors. Hmmm, clothing, surprisingly neatly folded and hung in the appropriate places. Of good quality but not excellent, all appearing to be in better shape than the shreds of fabric in the trunk. Still, nothing of obvious use to him here either. That left only the boy's bed table.

He turned to look at Potter's bed and the table next to it. The only thing on the bed table was a chocolate frog package, unopened. That might be a possibility, but what was the likelihood that Potter would keep the thing uneaten long enough to be of use? The spells that he could think of to use would necessitate using an item that was unlikely to be consumed or thrown away.

The bed was neatly made up, and sitting in the middle of it was something that might just be of great use. Severus picked up the blue leather book and examined it closely. The leather was real; he thought as he fingered it and sniffed at the binding. Hmmm . A careful examination of the inside cover yielded the name of the manufacturer and a serial number. He carefully detached the quill from its pocket and examined it. An eversharp self-inking quill, specially matched to the leather binding.

"I wonder," he mused softly as he contemplated the book and quill in his hands. These could prove quite useful indeed provided that the brat actually did as suggested for once and used the blasted thing. They were definitely the most promising things he'd seen in the room. A short search through his charms books and a quick trip to London before the feast should provide him with all the supplies necessary for this little scheme.

The dour man turned quietly on his heel and quickly left the tower. Time to return to his quarters and set his plan in motion.

Harry flew aimlessly around the quidditch pitch, not watching where he was going and flying mostly by instinct. Usually a good fly would help him to clear out the cobwebs and think through his problems, but this time all it seemed to do was remind him how much he missed his godfather.

"Harry!" a voice exclaimed from the ground.

He turned his head and looked toward the sound. Hermione and Ron stood by the entrance to the field. He slowly floated down and came to a soft landing right in front of his two friends.

"Harry, it's almost time for the Leaving Feast," Hermione said, putting her hand gently on her friend's arm.

Harry looked around the pitch, noticing that the shadows were getting longer and the sun was starting to sink over the forest. "I'm not hungry."

"I know, but you're starting to worry us mate," Ron said, earning a look of surprise from Hermione. "What?"

"Nothing. Harry, I know it's hard, but Sirius wouldn't want you to make yourself ill, and if you keep on the way you're going, well, you'll run yourself into the ground. Come sit with us at least." Hermione grasped one of Harry's hands as she talked while Ron grabbed his broom and tucked it under his arm. They turned him around and silently walked back to the main doors.

Severus ghosted through the deserted hallways toward the Gryffindor dorms. All of them were safely ensconced in the hall, he'd made sure of that, particularly sure of Potter, before he left the table with the excuse of visiting the loo. The only tricky part of the operation would be gaining access to the tower. Luckily he'd heard Finnegan remind that idiot Longbottom of the password change as he passed them in the hallway on the way back from his trip to town.

Ahh, there it was. He drew to a stop in front of the portrait and waited impatiently for her attention.

"Yes, Professor?" the Fat Lady said indolently from her place on her chaise.

"I need admittance to return some items stolen from a student. The password is "McGonagall's Pride'."

"As you say, Professor," she said as she swung open the entrance.

Severus quickly strode through the wincingly bright common area to the stairs, taking them two or three at a time until he reached the landing where Harry Potter's dorm lay. He opened the door silently, took a swift look around to make absolutely sure none of the young men were present, and hustled to the boy's bed.

The item he was searching for was no longer there, but that wasn't a surprise considering it had been hours since he'd last been there. Potter was such a transparent soul it shouldn't take long to ascertain where it was hidden. Perhaps the wardrobe?

He made his way quickly to the wardrobe and eased the door open, surprised to find that the only clothing left was a pair of blue and white striped pajamas. Obviously the young man had packed everything at some point this afternoon.

He turned his attention to the trunk at the bottom of the bed. Luckily it hadn't yet been locked, which made it a simple thing to ease it open. Yes, there it was, sitting right on the very top.

Severus reached for it, noticing a bit of parchment lying neatly across the top. "Harry, Ron and I packed your trunk for you, I put your text books under your jumper. Remember, you never have to share this book with anyone if you don't want to, and it really did help. If you need to talk and the Dursley's will let you, here's my number."

'The Dursely's will let you?' Severus thought as he pulled a package out of his pocket. Why wouldn't Potter's family let him do whatever he wished? It was Snape's understanding that all Muggleborn children were permitted to use those telephone things. In fact, he remembered seeing them stuck to the repulsive things when he went out to his favorite coffee house. The younger patrons rarely looked up from their tippity tapping and clicking. It reminded him of the infernal wand waving of the younger years.

"Hmmm," he said as he laid the Potter boy's book on the foot of the bed and unwrapped the special quill he'd purchased at Scrivenshafts. Yes, the same color. He pulled a roll of parchment from another pocket, placed it gently on the book and arranged the quill he'd bought in the middle of the parchment. Pulling his wand out of his pocket with one hand and removing the quill from Potter's book, Severus waved his wand and intoned "Scripturae exemplaris." The book, parchment and quills were surrounded by a soft golden light as he finished the movements, and then the light sank them.

A faint smile of satisfaction crossed the potions master's face as he picked up the book, replaced the original quill with the one he'd bought and placed them back in Potter's trunk, repositioning the scrap of parchment and closing the trunk. The parchment and other quill went into his pocket, as did his wand, and it was a matter of mere moments before he was through the portrait and on his way through the halls to the feast.

He slid into his chair just as Dumbledore rose to say "Tuck in", congratulating himself on a job well done. A quick look over to his snakes indicated no incipient problems, and Potter was sulking quietly at his table, so this should be a reasonably easy meal for once.

Minerva stood on the steps of the castle watching the carriages wind their way toward Hogsmeade station. Another eventful year at a close. This year had been worse than any she remembered since the first war against Voldemort. Thankfully, for the most part the children involved in the ministry fiasco had returned to full health within a few days. Hermione would require some potions for awhile, but she would recover fully. She worried about Harry; however, the loss of his Godfather had put him into a dangerous depression.

"Waving them off, Minerva?" a quietly sardonic voice asked from behind her.

She turned in surprise. "Oh, Severus, I didn't hear you!" She surveyed him silently for a moment.

"Is there something on my face?" he queried, eyebrow raised.

"No, but you're up to something," she stated confidently.

"What makes you think that?"

"I know you, Severus. I taught you for seven years and have been a colleague of yours for many more. I recognize that look on your face."

"I am sure you are imagining things, Minerva. Why do you stand out here year after year?" he asked curiously as he stopped on the step next to her.

Minerva looked toward the path to town. All of the carriages had disappeared around the bend. "I suppose I don't feel that my duties are finished until they are off of the grounds, Severus. And I wonder what condition some of them will be in when they return to me in the fall."

"Ah," he said, staring at the puffs of smoke the Express was sending above the tree line. He could see Minerva's point. Some of his snakes were going into situations that were less than perfect, and Merlin only knew what condition they would return to him in. One of the lesser known realities of Slytherin House was that it had a larger percentage of abused children than any other house in Hogwarts, and as such, Snape had learned early in his career as Head of House to recognize and deal with the after-affects of the horrors some adults carried out on his children. Not to mention the possibility of the older students being pressured into a life of servitude to the Dark Lord.

A shrill whistle cut through the air and the smoke visible above the trees turned black as the Express began its journey.

"Will I see you at the party?" Minerva asked as she turned to enter the castle.

Severus nodded his head as he watched the puffs of smoke become fainter as the train moved away. "Albus is insisting, once again."

"My goodness, Severus, you would think that you'd be in a celebratory mood now that the 'brats' are gone," Minerva said with a most ungryffindor smirk.

"In the last three years Hagrid has managed to dump noxious liquids on me, Flitwick has giggled me into a corner that I couldn't get out of, and that blind insect Trelawny has predicted my doom. Why, pray tell, should I be interested in putting myself through that once again?" he demanded staring up at the transfiguration professor.

"But it's so entertaining for the rest of us, dear boy," McGonagall said in a dead on impersonation of Dumbledore.

"Humph," he grumbled as he watched his colleague enter the castle. What a colossal waste of time. Ah well, he could wait one more day to start his experiments, and besides, Potter could hardly be expected to write anything in the next several hours. Undoubtedly he was reveling in the admiration of his fan club.

A whole bloody week, Severus thought as he slammed the empty parchment down on the side table in his sitting room. Obviously the infuriating boy was once again not following anyone's advice.

Severus glared at the innocent parchment and stomped over to the cabinet he kept his liquor in. He knew it was only a matter of time before The Boy Who Was a Constant Irritant drove him to the bottle. At least his potions experiments had gone well this week. He might be on the cusp of an important finding in regards to improving the Anti-Cruciatus potion. It was likely to be needed with the war heating up.

Hmmmm, should it be the Leupold Gournel tonight or the Remy Martin, he pondered, staring at each of the bottles in turn. "Remy Martin," he said, picking up the bottle and pouring a heafty tot into a snifter. Plenty of time before bed time to catch up on some reading, he thought as he sat down and reached for the 'Potions and Alchemica Society Journal' on the table next to his chair.

Time passed unnoticed by Severus as he immersed himself in his journal. A soft 'ping' caught his attention as he stretched and sipped the last of his drink.

"Finally," he exclaimed as he carefully set the snifter down on the table and went to the parchment. It glowed blue, which indicated a message that had not been read. "Let's see what the idiot boy has to say," he murmured reaching for the parchment.

The writing on the parchment was spidery, but surprisingly easy to read. Obviously Potter's skill with the quill was improving; Severus thought begrudgingly as he returned to his chair and unrolled the scroll.

"Hermione said this would help. I'm not sure I believe her, but I guess it's worth a shot. I keep having the dream. Sirius falling through the veil, I mean. I don't want to go to sleep, it's happening every single time I close my eyes, and then I yell or say something, and then, well, I don't want to even write that here. I don't think this is helping."

Severus frowned and stared into the distance, contemplating what he'd read. Potter was obviously having difficulty with his Godfather's death, not that that was a surprise, but there was something else going on. Something he didn't understand, and Potter's words stopped just as it was getting interesting. Hopefully he'd continue writing in the next few days.

A loud crash shook the castle, causing Albus Dumbledore to look up in concern from the scroll he was reading and his familiar Fawkes to squawk loudly from his perch.

"Yes, Fawkes, I expect it was Severus with a failed experiment." The headmaster paused to pet the phoenix on his way over to the fireplace. He threw in some floo powder and called out "Potions Lab" as he stepped into the fire.

Dumbledore paused in the fireplace to look around the nearly demolished lab. "Severus, are you here?" he called as he peered around the room. A loud groan answered him. "Are you hurt? Where are you?" he asked, preparing to step out of the fireplace.

"Wait, don't come in," the voice answered. A disheveled figure slowly rose from behind some pieces of wood in the corner of the room. "It's not safe; I don't know where the potion splashed when it exploded."

"My boy, we should get you to Madame Pomfrey."

Severus ignored the headmaster and looked at the destruction of his private lab. Once again two step forwards and one back. He sighed and picked his way toward the fireplace, stopping before a cracked table that had an upended cauldron sitting in the bowed middle of it. "Let me neutralize this and then you can enter." A wave of his wand and a muttered incantation later and the liquid that had flowed out of the cauldron was vanished.

Dumbledore entered the room and quickly picked his way over to his potions master. "What happened?"

"I think I added too much newt spleen. It must have reacted badly with the mugwort." Severus shook his head in disgust as he surveyed the damage.

"Are you hurt?"

Severus brushed the dust from his robes and took stock of his physical condition.

"No, just a bit bruised." He turned in a slow circle taking in the destruction to his equipment. Two of the three lab tables had been upended by the blast and countless delicate glass flasks and tubes were smashed on the floor. It would take hours to clean it up. Thankfully the wards he'd set on the cabinets along the wall had held up to the onslaught and the potions supplies he kept locked away in them were unharmed.

"This is going to take hours to clean up," he muttered under his breath.

"Would you like help?" Dumbledore asked.

"Are you offering? No," he said, raising his hand to forestall the Headmaster, "I've trained several of the house elves to help me when something like this happens. It will be faster if I use them than if I have to explain to someone what to do. Thank you for the offer, though."

"Do let me know if I can be of assistance, Severus," Dumbledore said as he returned to the fireplace and prepared to floo back to his office. "Oh, and I have your word that if you find your health is compromised you will seek assistance from Poppy?"

Severus stared at the infernal meddling old coot in a challenging manner, obsidian eyes meeting twinkling blue ones in battle. He finally dipped his head in acquiescence and Albus nodded agreeably as he tossed the powder into the fireplace, uttered "Headmaster's office" and disappeared in a burst of green flames.

"Tainy," the potions master called.

A small house elf dressed in a neatly pressed pillow case popped into existence in the middle of the room. "Youse calls, sir?"

"I need you to go get Bander and Flitter and return with buckets and mops; we need to clean this mess up."

The little elf looked around the demolished room and popped away, only to return a few seconds later with two other elves, all three of them loaded with cleaning supplies. The three waited patiently for further instructions.

"You two get started on that corner," Severus said, pointing to a spot on the opposite side of the room, "Tainy and I will start over here." With a bit of luck it shouldn't take more than two or three hours to put the room to rights, he thought, rolling up his sleeves and preparing to right one of the tumbled tables.

Three and a half hours later Severus stumbled wearily into the sitting room of his private quarters and sank into the nearest chair. He propped his head dejectedly on his hand and stared idly into space, too tired to do much more than breathe. A softly pulsing blue light caught his attention and he peered wearily around the room trying to determine where it was coming from. The table next to the bookcases. What had he left there?

"Potter!" he exclaimed, suddenly re-energized at the thought of more insight into the enigma of Harry Potter. Hefting himself out of his chair, he strode across the room to the table and snatched up the paper, and eagerly read the journal entry that had appeared.

Hermione sent me an owl today. Luckily Uncle Vernon wasn't home. I don't want to think about what would have happened if he'd been home. I've sent Hedwig to the Burrow just in case. Anyway, Hermione asked if I'd been writing, and I guess I should give it more than one shot. The nightmares are still happening. Cedric, the graveyard, Sirius; there hasn't been a night when I haven't dreamed of at least one of them.

The other parts of my summer are the same as usual. Uncle Vernon locked my trunk in my old cupboard again, only this year he did it as soon as I got home, so I didn't have a chance to get my books out. It's a good thing Hermione had me pull this one out to show me how to lock it or I wouldn't have had it either. I've got to figure out some way to get in there and get the rest of them. I don't think my professors would accept the excuse "I couldn't do my homework because my uncle locked it up." Can you imagine Snape's face? I'd be in detention the rest of my life!

There's Aunt Petunia, I better hide this before she gets hold of it and throws it away, maybe I'll write more later.

Snape held the parchment loosely between his hands as he contemplated Potter's latest entry. Why on earth would the boy's uncle lock up his school equipment? Why would he send his owl away? Everyone knew that they boy doted on his snowy owl. Granted, Petunia wasn't the most pleasant person in the world when she, Severus and Lily had been growing up Petunia had been a jealous little bint. But surely she would cosset the only child of her only sister. Something wasn't adding up here, and Severus didn't like problems that didn't add up. This would require some more investigation. Tomorrow would be soon enough, though, he thought as he looked at the clock.

Madame Pince glared balefully at the ascetic man as he moved toward one of the library tables a pile of books bobbing obediently along in his wake. A sweeping motion of his ebony wand sent the books to the table where they gently settled in front of him.

For his part, Severus ignored the gaunt woman glaring at him. He'd had lots of practice over the years ignoring her. In fact, he wasn't certain why she glared at him every time he entered her domain, but it had been so since the time he was a little first year. He had the sneaking suspicion that Madam Pince glared at everyone in the castle, up to and including the headmaster.

He pulled the first book toward himself, checking the date as he did so. Yes, this was Potter's first year. None of the students were aware that the teachers had access to information about previous years of schoolwork and grades from each student in Hogwarts. Severus had rarely consulted the books, but they seemed an obvious place to start gathering information regarding Potter. He paged through the book, gliding past the alphabetically arranged names until he reached Potter's pages.

Hmmm, the boy's grades at the beginning of the year were abysmal. In fact, both Filius and Pomona in addition to Snape himself had noted that the boy didn't seem to have even a basic understanding of the beginning material. Given Potter's last entry, he had to wonder if the boy had been permitted to open any of his books prior to stepping into the castle.

Severus repeated the process with each of the four remaining books and found a distinct pattern emerging. Four of the core teachers, McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick and Sprout all noted that Potter's summer work was below expected standards. The boy's grades for the first month of school were pathetic, but slowly improved throughout the year.

The data could only account for one scenario; Potter's relatives were denying him the opportunity to do his summer work. If they were denying him that basic requirement for success at school, what else were they denying him?

The sound of Severus slamming the last book closed caused Madame Pince to leap from her desk and hurry toward his table. "Professor Snape, I would think that you would set a good example for the students," she huffed, stacking the books into a neat pile and waving them off to the stacks. "Kindly treat my books with more respect."

Snape stared after her in bemusement before rising and leaving the library. There were potions to be made for the hospital wing, and he'd best get them started if he wanted to have any more time for experimentation. He would consider his next step as he brewed.

The next few days passed quietly. Severus spent the days brewing fever reducer and pain potions in his lab and his nights either researching the anti-cruciatus potion or reading Potter's journal entries.

So far Potter had written at least a short note each night, and Severus had learned several new things about his quarry. Potter appeared to be relieved when his relatives left him alone. Someone named 'Dudley' seemed to delight in persecuting the boy, and no one tried to defend him against this 'Dudley' person. He missed his friends, and there was something he was keeping from them. And perhaps most surprisingly, he didn't trust Dumbledore. Unfortunately the boy had not given a reason for this lack of trust. Perhaps Potter would leave a more detailed entry at a later date.

Severus had started looking at the charmed parchment every time he entered his quarters and wasn't surprised to see it glowing blue as he returned after a meeting of the Order one evening.

Whatever Potter had to say could wait until he had a chance to pour himself a drink and get settled in his favorite chair, he decided as he made his way to the small kitchenette and pulled an apricot nectar out of the cooler. He grabbed the parchment on his way to the chair, settled himself comfortably, and scanned down the paper until he came to the newest entry.

Still having nightmares. I hate my life. Why do I hate my life? I'll tell you why, it sucks.

Severus paused to roll his eyes and snort. Typical teen angst. He raised the parchment on his lap to his eyes and continued reading.

This morning when I got up the list of chores was waiting for me as usual. And as usual they had to be completed before dinner. Maybe I should list them? Why not.

1. Make breakfast

2. Clean the dishes

3. Make the beds

4. Mop the kitchen floor

5. Dust the sitting room

6. Vacuum the first floor

7. Weed the front garden

8. Water the front and back gardens

9. Make dinner

10. Clean the dishes

I managed to sneak some water from the hose when I was watering the garden, luckily Aunt Petunia didn't see me. I got everything done before dinner, Uncle Vernon must have had a good day at work, they actually gave me half a sandwich for dinner before they sent me upstairs.

So far today I've had a piece of cold toast, some water, and half a sandwich. I've finally reached the point where my stomach doesn't hurt, it only took 2 ½ weeks this year. Good thing Hedwig's at the Burrow, at least I know she's getting enough food this year. Not like that awful summer after first year.

You know what Dumbledore? "Dark and difficult years" doesn't even come close.

I hate my life.

Severus let the parchment drop into his lap. What in Merlin's name? The words were presented in a straightforward manner which indicated the truth of them.

Casting his mind back to his school years, Severus considered both James Potter and Lily Evans had been of reasonable height, and the elder Potter had been a bit chunky before he hit his growth spurt. Their son, however, was one of the shortest students in his year, and had always appeared on the slender side. In fact, now that Severus considered the matter, at the beginning of the term in September the boy had often appeared gaunt to the point of emaciation. Obviously the lack of food was a continuous problem. Perhaps it was time for a more direct approach.

The morning light beamed strongly into Minerva's sitting room, it was likely to be another warm day she thought as she settled into the chair by the open window with a nice cup of tea. Time to relax with tea in the morning was at a premium during the school year, so it was all the more treasured during the summer months. An owl fluttered in through the open window, a copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in its claws. She detached the paper, gave the owl an owl treat from the bowl on the table beside her, sent it on its way and opened the paper.

A knock at the door wrenched her attention from the headlines. "Come"

The door opened and her youngest colleague stepped into the room.

"Why Severus," she said, "I'm rather surprised to see you out and about this early in the summer. Did something happen? I thought I heard an explosion a few nights ago."

"No, Minerva, nothing's wrong. There was an explosion, but nothing beyond some glassware was broken. I wanted to ask you some questions," Severus answered.

Minerva stared at him, a bit befuddled. It was unlike the man to seek her out for idle conversation, and she couldn't imagine what sort of information she could give him, but far be it from her to discourage any social interaction the solitary potions master sought.

"I see, please, sit down," she said, waving him toward a comfortable chair across the table from hers. "Would you like some tea?"

Severus nodded in acceptance. Coffee would have been preferable, but since he was here to obtain information he would make do with what was on offer. Might as well start off on a friendly and unassuming note. He watched as Minerva summoned a tea cup for him and busied herself with pouring a cup and offering him sugar and milk, neither of which he took.

"Well, then, what can I do for you?" Minerva asked, settling back in her chair.

"I was hoping you could answer some questions about one of your Gryffindors for me," Severus started.

Minerva nodded encouragingly, not sure where her colleague was going with this line of thought. "Which student?"

"Potter." Severus said quietly.

Minerva stared at him in disbelief. "Potter?"

"Yes, Potter," he stated, calmly sipping his tea and surveying her over the rim of his cup.

"Why Potter?" she queried distrustfully.

"It's occurred to me that Dumbledore is convinced he's 'the chosen one'", Snape said with distaste for the title, "yet I know little about the boy beyond his regrettable ability to get himself into trouble and his inability to concoct the simplest potion."

Minerva contemplated her colleague and sipped her tea as she thought. "Why now, Severus? You've had the last five years with the boy; surely you have come to some conclusions in that time."

Severus stared into the distance as he thought of several ways to respond. Finally he decided on honesty. "As you say, I've been watching the boy for over five years, and find that there are some pieces to the puzzle that is Potter that are not fitting into the picture. Therefore, I need more information to solve the dilemma. You are the obvious person to give me that information," he said, quirking his eyebrow at her and trying his best to look unassuming.

"I see," Minerva said slowly, pouring herself another cup of tea. "Well then, ask your questions and I'll do my best to answer."

"What do you know about Potter's relatives?" Severus asked.

"His relatives? I've only seen them once, the day that Harry was left with them. I spent the day watching them in my animagus form and they were horrible people. I told Albus that he shouldn't leave poor Harry there, but he insisted that it was the only place safe for him. Why do you ask?" Minerva asked suspiciously. "Have they been mistreating him?"

"Not to my knowledge," Severus prevaricated. "I overheard some discussion of them and was curious. Potter didn't appear anxious to return to them, you would expect the cosseted and spoiled darling of the family to be happy to return home."

Minerva glared at the younger man. "What makes you think that he's cosseted and spoiled? I've seen no sign of arrogance in Harry; in fact, he's overly humble and reticent in my opinion."

"What makes you say that?" Severus asked curiously.

"Have you no eyes?" she snapped. "The boy has no sense of self-worth. When you compliment him in class he acts as though he'd never been rewarded or valued in his life. Filius has noted the same thing. He has no sense of self-preservation either. It's almost as though it doesn't occur to him that people would care if he were injured. Not to mention how he hesitates to put himself forward in his schoolwork. It's rare that he volunteers to answer questions in class, it's almost as though he is afraid to answer. I'm not sure if he's more afraid to be wrong or right. Oh, and let's not forget the condition the poor boy is in when he returns from the summer holiday. Every year he's thinner and more haunted."

"Minerva," Severus said slowly, "have you spoken to Albus about this? It sounds to me as though you suspect child abuse."

"Every single autumn when the children return, I bring it up to him and every single year so far he has said the same thing: 'There is no safer place for him.' And then he twinkles at me, and the next thing I know I'm outside the door and nothing has been done," Minerva said agitatedly.

"Have you talked with anyone else about this?" Severus asked intently, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on the table.

"I've mentioned it to Poppy, but you know her vow of patient confidentiality, she can't say anything." Minerva huffed in disgust. "I am at a loss as to what to do; I have no proof that anything is wrong. Harry won't confide in me, and you know as well as I do without proof there is nothing that can be done."

Severus sat quietly, thinking through various scenarios. "What if I could get a copy of Potter's medical records?"

Minerva stared at Severus. "Do I want to know?" She shook her head. "No, I don't want to know how you get it, but if you can, I would like to see the records, if only to satisfy myself that I'm imagining things.

"Give me two days," Severus stated, draining the last of his tea and standing up.

"Severus," Minerva whispered as he reached her door, "be careful."

Severus nodded slightly and opened the door, slipping silently out of it and heading for the dungeons to plan his next step. He'd gotten a bit more information than he'd expected, but that was all to the good.

Severus corked the last bottle of Skele-Gro potion and gently settled it into the carrying box he used to transport potions to Poppy. A quick check of the clock on the wall to ensure that Poppy was unlikely to be in her office at this time of the night and he was off to re-supply the potions cabinet and do a bit of illicit snooping.

The corridors of the castle were quiet and peaceful, Severus was able to relax in the knowledge that no student was lurking in shaded nooks and crannies. Not even Filch's tatterdemalion cat was evident as he approached the door to the infirmary.

There was no reason to skulk; he thought as he reached the door, after all, he was there on a perfectly legitimate errand. He pushed the door open and entered with confidence. "Poppy?"

No answer. A covert look into the mediwitch's office as he passed showed that she was not present, and the supply room was dark and uninhabited as well. So far so good, he thought as he moved the potions from his carrier into the cabinet with quiet competence. Still no sound, perhaps she was visiting her niece in Hogsmeade?

Slipping effortlessly into spy mode, Snape ghosted into Poppy's office and cast "Fateor" at the file cabinet to reveal any wards she might have placed around it. The dull purple of a simple locking charm appeared; it was the work of a moment for him to dispel it.

"Parkinson, Patil, Patil, Perks, ah, Potter." Severus removed the surprisingly slim file from the cabinet and used a "lumos" to cast some soft light onto the papers. There were numerous entries delineating the injuries Potter had accumulated during his various Quidditch endeavors and hair brained adventures. That was only to be expected, however, it was Snape's understanding that each student received a physical once per year from the mediwitch, yet there was no entry indicating that Potter had ever been seen for one.

Frowning thoughtfully he pulled Parkinson's file. A quick rifling through the papers revealed that Miss Parkinson had been seen for a physical each and every September from first year on.

The same was true for both Patils and Miss Perks. Perhaps Poppy only saw the girls? That made no sense. Severus rummaged through the next drawer up and removed Draco Malfoy's file. Yes, Malfoy had been seen every October for his physical, as had Ron Weasley and Justin Finch-Fletchly, Severus thought as he pulled folders from other drawers.

Apparently, Severus thought as he returned the files to where they belonged, it was a Potter specific oversight. The question that remained to be answered then was why was Potter being overlooked?

Several answers leapt to his mind, and none of them were palatable. It was possible Poppy was giving Potter physicals and they were being suppressed. It was obvious that Albus was the only person who would be able to suppress such information; the question was why he would feel he needed to. It was equally possible that Dumbledore was telling Poppy not to scan Potter, but then again, why would he not want Potter to receive the basic medical service?

Or perhaps there was a third player in the game, someone else was removing Potter's records. Once again, what could they be covering up?

Surely if Potter was being abused by his relatives Dumbledore would have him out of there blood wards or no blood wards. Wouldn't he?

"Well?" Minerva asked as she finally cornered the Potions Master in the hallway outside the Great Hall.

"Nothing," came the quiet answer.

"What do you mean, nothing?" McGonagall demanded as she tugged Severus into a nook overlooking the Quidditch Pitch.

Severus pulled his arm away from his colleague and stared down his nose at her. "Exactly what I said. Either Potter's medical records have been altered or he has never been seen for a yearly physical. I found no information aside from the many injuries he's gotten during his activities at school for the past five years."

Minerva stared at him in shock. "No physicals? How is that possible?"

Severus stared at the Transfiguration Mistress, hoping she would work it out without him having to say anything.

"Severus Snape, surely you don't think the Headmaster," she said softly, her face a mask of confusion and disbelief. "No, I cannot and I will not believe that Albus Dumbledore would ignore a child in trouble," she said shaking her head.

"That leaves us with Poppy, and I can't see her falsifying her records. What other alternatives are there, Minerva?" Snape queried as leaned wearily against the chill stone wall.

"Could it be an outside influence?" Minerva asked, grasping at straws.

"Such as?" Severus asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

Minerva thought furiously. "There must be something else happening, Severus, you know as well as I do that neither Poppy nor Albus would ever be so unprofessional as to suppress a student's medical records if there was something going on. I'll be doing some studying on it, you can be sure."

"I am sure you will let me know if your studies reveal anything," Severus commented as he watched Minerva scurry from the alcove they'd been secreted in. He shook his head at fools who are unwilling to see the writing beneath their noses and headed to his dungeon for some more research of his own. Thankfully NOT about Potter and his 'difficulties'. Perhaps the next journal entry would make things clearer.

Days since I had food: 3

You know, I thought that things had reached an all time low the year the Dursley's put bars on my window and fed me cold soup through a cat flap. Apparently they were just saving up for a more "appropriate" time.

Severus paused to consider the words he'd just read. 'Fed through a cat flap?'

Last year was no walk in the park with all the chores and the occasional, well, never mind, least said and all that. Not that I think things will ever be mended with them, but what's the use in dwelling.

You'd think after I went to the trouble of saving that lump Dudley from the Dementors they'd be a bit more grateful. Or at least not as horrid. Even Snape wouldn't stoop this low. Well, he might, but I'd deserve it. And at least I always know where I stand with the nasty git. He detests me and I hate him.

I never know when it's coming here, or what will set them off.

I'm so tired.

Snape glared at the wall in front of him. 'Nasty Git' indeed. Although, he was rather surprised to find that Potter understood that he was punished for a reason most of the time. He'd not thought the boy had made the connection. A relatively long missive tonight, but not much new information. Apparently Potter was still being denied food.

How long could this go on, Severus wondered. Was the boy's whole summer a dance between malnutrition and overwork? At this point there was little he could do but watch for more information. It was looking more and more likely that Potter(,) was at the very least(,) a neglected child.

Nothing had appeared for the past three days. Severus was beginning to worry, much against his will what in Merlin was the Chief Snake doing worrying about a Gryffindor? A soft 'ping' caught his attention and he looked up from his book to find that the parchment was glowing the blue that signified a new message.

"Finally, Potter." He grabbed the parchment and quickly scrolled down to where the last words were printed.

Days without food: 0

I got lucky today, was able to scrape a bit of meat and some fruit off of the plates after everyone was through with breakfast.

Unfortunately, I didn't get all of my chores done. And I accidentally knocked over the floor wax in the kitchen. That wouldn't be so bad if I'd been able to clean it up before anyone noticed, but Dudley just had to come running through. You can guess what happened next, can't you? Yeah, he fell right on his fat rear. Uncle Vernon only had time to hit me a few times before they took Diddykins to the emergency room, but he made sure to lock me in so that he can 'deal' with me later.

I'm scared. Why won't anyone help me? I know I'm just a freak, but still, you'd think someone would notice what's been happening. Oh no

Potter thought he was a 'freak'? Where had that come from? And obviously the boy was fearful of his uncle. That anyone, even that thrice damned son of James Potter, should be reduced to scraping food off of the plates of others was disgraceful.

At least he finally had proof Potter was being physically abused. The question was who to trust with this information?

A knock on the door to his quarters disturbed Severus' musings. He quickly turned the parchment over and covered it with books before striding to the door and flinging it open, a glare fixed to his face to dissuade the visitor from tarrying.

Minerva stood outside his door, fist raised to knock again at the door. "Magic."

"What?" Severus snarled.

"Magic. Invite me in, Severus. We need to talk." Minerva bustled by Snape as she spoke.

"Please do come in, Minerva, have a seat, coffee? Tea?" Severus asked sarcastically as he watched the elderly woman settle into a straight backed chair across from his more comfortable leather chair.

"Tea would be welcome if you please," she said, waiting with barely disguised impatience as Severus called for a house elf and requested a cup of tea, a mug of coffee and biscuits.

Once they had served themselves and the elf had popped away he quirked an eyebrow at Minerva. "You were saying?"

"I found something that may explain what's happened." Minerva paused to take a sip of her tea. "It had been niggling at the edge of my conscious for a few days, and finally while having my evening tea, I remembered. Jason Enoch." She took another sip of her tea and eyed Severus expectantly over the rim of the cup.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. Obviously this wasn't going to be a quick visit. Why couldn't anyone just get to the point instead of giving all the ancillary, unimportant information? "Jason Enoch?"

"Surely you remember him, Severus; he was a Ravenclaw, studious little thing. Always a quiet, competent boy, not many friends, very much a loner."

A moment of consideration later and a hazy figure emerged from the mists of Severus' mind. "Was he the one that ran the broomstick into Filius' window?"

"Merlin no, Severus, that was Amandus Pinchwater. Jason was the one came back for his third year with the odd injuries," she paused, eyeing her fellow teacher hopefully.

"Ah, yes, the one who," Severus stopped abruptly and stared at Minerva, his eyebrows climbing to his hairline.

"The one who was hiding abuse with his magic. He didn't want anyone to find out what was happening at home so his magic altered Poppy's scans so that they didn't reveal a history of damage.. It wasn't until Poppy realized that the results she was getting from her scan didn't match up to what her eyes were seeing that the abuse came to light. I think Potter's magic is hiding the results of Poppy's scans just like Jason's did," Minerva nodded her head as she spoke. "It fits the clues, Severus."

"It does indeed, but, why wouldn't the yearly physical records be there, Jason's were," he was interrupted by the parchment letting off a soft sound and glowing blue beneath the books that were stacked upon it. He froze, staring at it in shock for a moment before hopping up, sweeping the books off the table and grabbing it.

"Severus?" Minerva asked, shocked at the Potions Master's actions. The man was usually so controlled it made his current actions all the more shocking.

Snape held his hand up for silence as his eyes scanned the parchment. His brows drew together as he read, obviously not liking what he was seeing. The hand holding the parchment curled into a fist, crumpling it before he spun and ran to the door.

"Severus?" Minerva was a good deal older than the Potions Master, but she was still spry enough to sprint after him and catch up to him at the door to the castle. "What are you doing," she huffed, out of breath.

Severus turned his head to stare at her as he wrenched the door open. "Take this to Albus, there's no time to waste," he said, thrusting the parchment into her hand.

"But where are you going" she yelled after his rapidly disappearing figure.

"Go to Albus," he called to her.

Minerva stood, poised on the threshold of the castle, staring after him. What could have been written on the parchment to evoke such a response? It must be bad for such an unflappable man to react in such a way. She turned and hurried toward the Headmaster's office, reading as she went.

By the time she had reached the gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office she'd read enough to make her feel ill, and she'd yet to reach the end. It didn't cross her mind to question how Severus had acquired Harry's journal entries, that could wait.

"Oompa Loompas," she said, hurrying up the self moving stairs to the door that led to Albus' office at the top of the tower.

"Come in, Minerva," the Headmaster said as she approached the door. She opened the door to find him sitting behind his desk, piles of parchment neatly stacked up on the desk top. "Would you care for a seat? Sherbet Lemon? To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"Severus left," Minerva began, only to be interrupted by Dumbledore, who looked over the top of his glasses at her with piercing blue eyes.

"Voldemort?"

"No, not this time," she replied. "We had been discussing Harry Potter when this parchment glowed blue. Severus grabbed it up, read it, and then ran out of the castle. I caught him just before he left the castle and he bade me bring it to you. I haven't read the whole thing, but it's not good, Albus."

Dumbledore stared at his Deputy Headmistress for a moment before accepting the parchment from her and reading it.

An ominous yellow light began to flicker around the Headmaster's form as he read further down the page. He glanced up at Minerva at one point and said "Would you please contact Poppy? She went to visit her niece this evening, and I believe we may well need her before the night is out."

Minerva nodded her head and fished a bit of parchment out of her pocket. She looked around for a quill to write with, only to find a peach colored ever-ink quill thrust into her hand by the Headmaster. She quickly scribbled a summons to Poppy, and then looked around for a way to send it to the village.

"Fawkes," Dumbledore commanded. The phoenix fluttered over to the desk and allowed Minerva to tie the note to its foot before flying out the tower window.

The flickers of wild magic around Albus had died down leaving him looking defeated and old.

"What do we do now?" Minerva asked.

"We wait. Severus will deal with whatever he finds, and we will be there to help Harry heal in whatever way we can. I must know, Minerva, did you suspect he was being abused? And why does Severus have this?" he asked, waving the wrinkled parchment.

"I have wondered why Harry seemed so small compared to his peers, but no, I had not considered outright abuse, especially since you assured me there was no safer place for him, Albus," she said looking him in the eye. "As to why Severus has that parchment, that I cannot say. He came to me several days ago asking about the Dursely's and during our conversation it came up that perhaps he was being abused." Minerva thought for a moment, a frown appearing on her face as she replayed the conversation.

"Although now that I think about it, he carefully worked the conversation around so that it sounded like I was the one considering Potter had been abused. Sneaky snake!" she exclaimed fondly.

"Minerva," Albus said in an attempt to re-direct Minerva.

"Yes, of course," she said, sitting up a bit straighter in her chair and continuing her explanation. "We decided that there was no proof that Harry was abused, so Severus volunteered to check his medical records."

Albus sat back in his chair as he listened. "And what did Severus find?"

"Nothing," Minerva said flatly.

The Headmaster sat forward abruptly, staring at Minerva. "Jason Enoch."

Minerva nodded her head and said "Indeed."

The floo in the Headmaster's office suddenly flared green and Madame Pomfrey stumbled out, quickly righting herself and brushing the soot from her clothes. "What's going on?"

"Severus has gone to retrieve a student that we believe to have been abused by his relatives, Poppy. He should be arriving soon."

"Who," she asked, closing her eyes in defeat. This was not the first time her holiday had been interrupted by an abused student, and it was often Snape that brought them to her.

"Harry Potter," Dumbledore said.

A white doe patronus sprang through the window and ran up to Dumbledore. "Past the gates, we'll need Madame Pomfrey," it said with Severus' voice.

A quick trip through the inter-school floo and all three of them were waiting in the infirmary within seconds. Madame Pomfrey pulled Harry's medical file while they waited and perused the contents, reminding herself of the previous occasions he'd been cared for by her. Now, where were the yearly physicals and her notes on potions interactions?

Poppy rifled through the papers, searching for the information she sought. It didn't appear to be in the file at all. She returned to the main room, a look of befuddled dismay on her face. "Headmaster?"

"Yes, my dear?" he said turning from where he was staring out the windows to the dark grounds beyond.

"I've apparently been derelict when it comes to Harry, there's no indication that he's ever been seen for a yearly physical. I don't know how I missed this, I am so sorry," she apologized.

Dumbledore smiled kindly at her. "Poppy, we have reason to believe that Harry's magic may have hidden this from us. You remember Jason Enoch?"

"Yes, of course," she breathed.

The door banged open and Severus entered, a tattered bundle of rags in his arms.

"Put him over here, Severus," Madame Pomphrey directed pointing toward Potter's customary bed. She moved to the bedside as Severus did as he was told and shooed the professors away so that she could work.

Ominous red streaks stained Severus' hands and robes as he joined the others by the windows.

"Well?" Dumbledore asked Snape, his eyes flat and serious.

"Did you read the last entry?" Snape asked in turn leaning his head wearily against the window.

"Yes, unfortunately," Albus answered.

"When I got there Potter was curled up on the floor, unconscious. He hasn't woken yet. I don't think there's a permanent head injury, and his spine is fine, but I can't guarantee the condition of his ribs or his arms and legs." Severus turned his head to stare at the Headmaster. "The Dursley's were unwilling to allow me to enter their abode."

Minerva gasped. "What did you do?"

Snape pivoted to sneer at her. "I persuaded them. With my wand."

"My boy," Dumbledore began.

"I did nothing permanent," Snape defended himself. "They'll be fine in a few hours."

"Headmaster," Poppy said as she approached her colleagues. "He has a concussion, three broken ribs, numerous contusions, two black eyes, and his nose has been broken. It looks as though someone repeatedly kicked him in the side, that's what broke the ribs. One of his wrists is swollen as well; it doesn't appear to be broken, however."

"Do you need any potions," Severus asked turning toward the supply room.

"In a moment, Severus," she replied. "Since Potter's injuries weren't life threatening I took a moment to do a full scan on him." She handed the Headmaster a stack of parchment sheets. "This is the result, Headmaster. I do hope it will be enough to make sure the boy never goes through something like this again?" Her glare indicated that the answer had better be 'yes'.

"I think there is no question about him returning," Dumbledore said as he tucked the papers under his arm. "While the blood wards are very strong, they were never meant to protect against his family harming Harry. Other arrangements will have to be made."

"If there is no further need of me," Snape said, casually drifting toward the door, hoping to make his getaway before the Headmaster thought to question how Severus had obtained his information.

"Ah, Severus," Albus said, his blue eyes fixing on the Potions Master. "I believe we are due for a conversation regarding this evening's activities.

Damn. Should have known the old coot would catch him, Severus thought as he followed his mentor from the hospital ward.

Severus wearily shuffled from the Headmaster's office having been subjected to both gratitude and a royal ticking off. Yes, he knew that it was a bit underhanded to use the course of action he had used to obtain information about Potter, but look at the benefits that had been achieved!

He paused in front of the door to the infirmary, not really sure why his feet had brought him there.

A moment's reflection later and he quietly swung the door open and made his way to Potter's bed.

The lad was so wrapped in bandages that very little of his skin was visible.

Severus looked around, and seeing no one in the room he sat upon the chair next to the bed.

"For Merlin's sake, Potter," he said quietly, "why didn't you tell anyone? Surely you don't believe that you deserve this? Well you don't, no one deserves to be treated this way. You aren't alone, you know," he said as he grabbed the boy's hand without thinking. "You'd be surprised at how many other students have been abused. Perhaps not to the level you have been, but still, it's not that unusual an occurrence. Had you been placed in my house, well, you weren't, were you. Still, you must know that the Headmaster would never want you to be treated in this manner."

Severus put Harry's hand down on the covers and gave it an absent minded pat as he stood up. "You will recover, Potter, perhaps that is the best that can be said." He nodded and left quietly.

Minerva stared after him from her place in Madame Pomfrey's office. "He does that often?"

Poppy smiled fondly. "Every time one of his Slytherins is in here he visits them like that. Particularly if they've been abused. It surprises you, doesn't it? He is just as protective as the proverbial mother hen when it comes to the students in his care, and I wouldn't be surprised if he's just added another one to the list."

"Severus and Harry?" Minerva asked with disbelief.

"Just wait, Minerva, just wait," Poppy said knowledgably.

Severus sank contentedly into his favorite chair, a snifter of his premium cognac grasped in one hand and his well used copy of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in his lap. It had been a busy day, he'd accomplished much.

He took a sip from his glass and stared into the fire, thinking. A frown began to gather on his face as he considered the past few days. "Merlin's pants!" he exclaimed, throwing the book to the floor in disgust.

All of the energy he'd expended on the brat and he still couldn't decide which house Potter should have been in!