Harry Potter lay on the bed, his hair smeared with blood and his body covered with bruises and scars.

“What happened to him?” Snape asked after he had turned away from the boy.

“I found him,” Lupin explained. “When we discovered that he wasn't at school this morning, I went to his home. His aunt said they found him like this; that he was attack by something or someone.”

Snape frowned. He had no idea what to make of the explanation. Attacked by what? By whom? For a moment he considered that Harry's family could have done this, but that was just ridiculous. They treated him like a king. The brat probably got himself into trouble like he usually did.

“Severus,” Dumbledore's concerned voice pulled the potions master out of his thoughts. “Does Voldemort something to do with it?”

“No,” answered Snape without thought. “I would have known and he would have made sure that he was dead before dumping him.”

“Remus, was there anything out of place in the house?”

Lupin remained silent for a moment. “I'm sorry Headmaster. I was in such a hurry”

“I understand, my boy.”

“Can you please discuss this elsewhere? I need to examine him and give him a proper treatment,” Poppy said.

Dumbledore nodded. “Let's go to your office, Remus. It's closer than mine or Severus' office.”

Lupin nodded, looked at the boy one last time, and led Snape and Dumbledore out of the infirmary.

Snape was lost. He had no idea what had happened to the boy and whatever it was, it was something horrible. Even most people who got tortured by the Dark Lord didn't look that horrible if they survived. Snape had been so lost in thought he hadn't even realised they were already in the werewolf's office. He sat down beside Dumbledore and waited for someone to break the silence.

After what felt like an hour, Lupin finally spoke. “I can't imagine how Harry could end up like this.”

“It's wasn't Voldemort,” the Headmaster said. “Either of you have another assumption?”

Snape remained silent, wondering if he should tell them about the brief though that had crossed his mind earlier, even though it was very unlikely to be true.

“Severus, is something bothering you?” The Headmaster looked at him as if he knew he was not telling them something.

He took a deep breath and decided it won't hurt anyone to spit out what he thought. “His relatives could have done it, but they probably treat him like a king.”

“But Petunia said-”

“She could have lied, Remus,” Dumbledore said. “You could be right, Severus. I think we best wait until Harry is awake and ask him what happened.”

Snape nodded curtly.

“Remus, could you go and find Ron and Hermione?” Dumbledore asked. “I think young Harry could use his friends when he wakes up.”

Remus nodded and left his office.

“Severus have you heard anything from Voldemort? It's been quiet around him and his Deatheaters but I fear it's the silence before the storm.”

“I haven't heard anything, Sir,” Snape answered. “But I overheard a couple of Deatheaters talking about some kind of plan.”

The headmaster frowned and gestured for the Potions Master to continue.

“I have no clue what the plan could be, but I have the feeling I will find out soon.” Snape took a deep breath. “What shall I tell the Dark Lord about Potter?”

Dumbledore looked puzzled. “You don't have to tell him anything.”

“I live here in the castle and if I don't tell him-”

“You right, dear boy, but we don't know what happened to Harry. We should take one step at the time.”

Severus nodded. One step at the time, he thought bitterly. What if he was called to His side right now? What if Draco discovered Harry’s state and reported it to his father? The Dark Lord would surely question his loyalty,since Severus was supposed to be the spy inside the castle, not Draco. Snape hated being a spy. His life was always in danger and he had to do terrible things that weighed upon his conscious, but Dumbledore asked him to continue to spy on the Dark Lord. Since Dumbledore had taken him under his protection, Snape felt obligated to do everything he was asked.

“Severus, could you go and check on Harry, please? See if Madame Pomfrey needs any help.”

The Potions Master nodded and left the werewolf’s office. He found Poppy sitting beside Potter's bed with a piece of parchment in her hand and a worried expression on her face.

“How is he?” asked Snape.

Poppy looked up, shrugging. “I honestly don't know. He will heal, physically.”

“What do you mean?”

Poppy walked towards Snape and gave him the parchment she was reading. His black eyes scanned the parchment and when he was done, he looked at Poppy. He was shocked by what was listed, but refused to show it. “Are you sure -”
“Yes,” said Poppy. “But I can't believe it.”

Before Snape could ask more about it, the small boy on the bed began to tremble heavily. Poppy rushed to the side of the bed and Snape followed her.

“Oh Merlin,” said Poppy while she tried to hold the boy still. The seizure started to get worse. “Was there a potion that shouldn't have been mixed with something?”

Snape shook his head and helped the nurse to steady Potter so he won't hurt himself. After a minute or two, though it felt longer, the seizure stopped as abruptly as they started.

“Oh Merlin,” Poppy said worried. “Maybe he has some brain damage after all.”

“He has no brain damage,” said Snape angrily. “The foolish brat is suffering from withdrawal symptoms.” Poppy looked at him, clearly not believing the Potions Master. “A while ago I discovered that one of the students had brewed a large amount of Dreamless Sleep potion, but hadn’t yet managed to identify the culprit. The house elves were instructed to keep their eyes open but the student managed to hide his stash. It seems I have finally found my thief.”

Poppy looked puzzled at the broken boy. “In all my years at Hogwarts I've never had an addicted child in my infirmary.”

Snape ignored Poppy's statement. “You're going to have you hands full with him. He needs constant monitoring and when he awakes he will be a nightmare.”

“You're familiar with addictions?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I have seen some addicts during my... darker times.”

“What do I have to do then? I can't keep him here. There are too many potions around,” She looked around as if she was looking for a solution. “And you said he needed constant monitoring,” Snape nodded curt. “But I don't have time for that! I have a lot of other children to take care of and sometimes I'm need at Sint Mungo's.”

“I'm sure the Headmaster will find a solution to this little problem.” Snape sneered at the boy. How could he have been so foolish as to drink Dreamless Sleep Potion every night? Snape always thought that he was the exact replica of his father, but it would seem he was far stupider. As far as he knew, James Potter had never gotten himself beaten to a pulp or addicted to controlled potions. A grim fear overwhelmed the potion master. This was the Chosen One? The Saviour of the Wizarding world? This pathetic child was destined to free them from the Dark Lord's reign of terror? Snape knew if the Dark Lord got wind of the brat's condition, he would probably laugh and thank whomever had reduced Potter to such a miserable state. Now the only one standing between the Dark Lord and his endless reign was the aging Dumbledore.

“How is he?” the concerned voice of the Headmaster pulled Snape out of his bitter thoughts. Lupin wasn't with him.

“Bad,” Snape answered. “I have found our Dreamless Sleep Potion addict.”

Dumbledore sighed. He suddenly looked very old and tired.

“Headmaster, please,” started Poppy. “Severus told me the boy needs constant monitoring and will be a nightmare when he wakes up. He can't stay here.”

“You're right, both of you. We need to find a solution, and quickly. We have to keep him at Hogwarts to protect him from Voldemort,” Poppy shivered, “but he can't stay in the infirmary.”

“I'm sure Lupin would love to watch over him,” Snape suggested.

“He can't. Don't forget the full moon and I don't think he's tough enough for the job,” argued Dumbledore.

Snape had the horrible feeling that the Headmaster had already picked his candidate. “And Minerva?”

The headmaster shook his head. “No, she's too busy.” A small smile appeared on his face. “But I know the appropriate person for the job.”

“No.”

“Severus,” Dumbledore said in a business like tone. “You are what Harry will need. You are strict, you will not yield to his begging, and you have knowledge of addictions and withdrawals.”

Snape gave the Headmaster an angry glare. If looks could kill, Dumbledore would have been dead. “That might be true but Potter and I... We are not compatible,” Snape sneered. “Especially after his actions last year. I'm sure if you put us together alone, I will not be able to restrain myself from killing him for long. And besides, what of my classes?”

Dumbledore considered the Potions Master. Blue eyes met black, and a shiver ran down Snape’s spine. He knew he was going to lose this argument, like he always did against the Headmaster. He hated to be in a position where he was indebted to another. The headmaster had made it very clear when Snape returned to the light that he had to do what was asked of him. Snape had done so for many years and he chafed under it. He had never been free: first he had served the Dark Lord and now he served Dumbledore. He sighed and looked over at the broken boy. If he hadn't been so stupid so many years ago, Potter wouldn't be lying on the hospital bed because he wouldn't exist and Snape would have a child or even children. He and Lily....

“Severus, don't make me force you,” said Dumbledore with a hint of sadness in his voice. “And we'll cancel your potion classes for the week.”

Poppy looked curiously from Snape to Dumbledore and back, but the men acted like she wasn't there.

“Just for a bit, until he is better. You won’t have to coddle him,” persuaded Dumbledore.

 “I'll do it, but don't expect me to be kind.” said Snape angrily.

“Just be fair, my dear boy.”

Two hours later Poppy had left the boy in the dungeons and instructed Snape on caring for his injuries. Before she left, she assured him that she would come by everyday to check on Potter and that Snape could always call her if she was needed.
The Potions master was not happy with the arrangement. Not only did he have to babysit Potter, he had to make sure he didn't get his hand on any Dreamless Sleep Potion. To be safe, Snape had removed all the potions from his private quarter to his office so Potter couldn't get addicted to something else. Snape hoped that the brat would sleep most of the week, so he would have only to endure the seizures and not the erratic behaviour that most withdrawing addicts displayed. Snape was convinced that The Golden Boy would be a lot of trouble. He didn't have any strength of character and would probably start whining for his potion as soon as he awoke.

Snape awoke to the sound of breaking glass announcing that Potter was also awake. Snape got up, pulled on his night robe and grabbed his wand from the nightstand. Without hesitating he marched into the living room were a small, black haired boy was frantically searching the cabinets. Snape was surprised that the boy didn't notice him. Snape pointed his wand at the chandelier and the candles flared.

________________________________________________________

Harry slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was that every part of his body ached and the second thing he noted was that he wasn't at the Dursley’s anymore. He took his glasses from the nightstand beside the bed. When his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he could make out the vague shape of a large wardrobe and a desk. Slowly, he got up, trying to ignore the pain. He needed to find his potion. He wanted to forget, to sleep without dreaming.
He searched for his trunk but could not find it. Perhaps it wasn't in the room yet. Carefully, he walked towards the door, trying not to make any sound. He had no clue where he was or who else was in this place and he didn't want to find out right now. The only thing he wanted and needed was his potion. He would do anything just to have a small sip of it.

He opened the door, hoping it wouldn’t make a sound and luckily for him it didn't. He entered what looked like a living area. For a moment he looked around, trying to identify the furniture in the dark. He couldn’t spot his trunk anywhere and decided to search the cabinets. He opened the nearest one. It was full of glasses, mugs, plates and cutlery. Perhaps behind the glasses... He carefully reached behind the glass, trying to feel if there was anything shaped like a vial.

Suddenly the sound of breaking glass disturbed the silence. Harry jumped. Hopefully, no one else had heard it. For a moment he stood frozen to the spot, but when he didn't hear any sound, he continued his search. He had to find his potion. If he didn't find them he would dream, he would have nightmares, he would be tortured again. He wanted to feel nothing. No pain, no emotions, nothing.

Harry jumped violently when the room was suddenly bathed in light. He looked around nervously, trying to find the person who illuminated the room.

“Potter!”

Automaticly, Harry shifted his gazed to where the voice had came from. Near a dark door stood his least favourite teacher, Professor Snape. Harry swallowed, trying to quell the fear that was attempting to master him. What was he doing here? he thought. What was he going to do, punish him for being out of bed? Did he hide the potions? Thoughts raced through Harry's head, but only one thing mattered: his potion.

Snape stepped forward and Harry took a few steps backwards. He kept his eyes focused on the professor looking for clues about what he was going to do.

“Potter,” said the pale teacher again.

Harry noted that he had his wand in his hand. Was he going to cast a hex on him? Or a jinx?

“Potter, why in Merlin’s name are you out of bed at this insane hour?” asked Snape angrily.

Harry ignored the question, taking another step away from Snape.

“Potter answer me!”

“P-poti-” started Harry, but he stopped as soon as he realised that Snape would probably just laugh at him for being weak and needing a potion to sleep. Then again, he didn't want to anger Snape anymore. He didn't want to get punished.

“No potions,” sneered Snape. “I took them all away.”

Harry was confused. He knew? But how? What? But without the potions... He bit his lip, avoiding Snape's black eyes.

When the Potions Master took another step forward, Harry hurried back into the room where he had awakened. He heard Snape mumble a few words and then there was complete silence.

Harry lay on his bed and staring at the dark ceiling. This was going to be a long, rough night.

_______________________________________________________

This had been the second time he had taken care of a child in his whole life. The first time was about seven years ago when Draco had been very sick and now the headmaster was forcing him to take care of the son of his enemy. The week had not gone as planned: he had hoped that he only had to make sure Potter stayed off the potion and that he would be able to look after himself, but he wasn't. Snape had to make sure he ate, and he had to wash the stupid boy because he wasn't capable of doing it himself, and as thanks the brat had vomited all over him.

The first day started off really badly and set the tone for the rest of the week: Potter had hit him in the face with a surprising amount of force while screaming all kinds of creative insults. Of course, Snape had become very angry at the boy and locked him in his room for a few hours, ignoring his angry cries for the potion. But that wasn't the worst. After the yelling and the violent behaviour, came the crying and begging. Snape would rather spend a month on a deserted island with the Dark Lord himself than comfort a student. Snape had chosen to pretend he didn't hear the brat crying and pleading until the night Potter’s screams awakened him. When he arrived in the guest room he found Potter slumped against the wall, crying his eyes out. At first Snape wanted to go back to his bed and leave the boy in his misery, but something told him to see if Potter was okay.

"Potter?" he asked sternly, but no reaction came.When he was close enough, Snape touched Potter's arm, which caused the boy flinch violently. Snape looked into Potter's green eyes, which seemed to be less bright then they used to be.

"Don't leave me alone," begged Potter fearfully.

Snape was surprised by what Potter had asked, but managed to hide it. He sat down on the bed, wondering what he should do with the clearly desperate boy. But before Snape could say anything, Potter had grabbed his robe and was now crying against him. Potter has lost his mind, was the first thing Snape thought but he knew better. Potter was a complete mess and emotionally very unstable.

The week had passed very slowly for Snape. He was tired and in a very bad mood, but refused to admit it. The only good thing that had happened during the week was that Potter recovered from his Dreamless Sleep Potion addiction. Poppy had said that he could return to his dorm today and start classes the following day. Together with the headmaster, Snape had decided to ban Potter from the potions classroom for the coming weeks because it could be too tempting.
Potter had just left his quarters and now Snape was pouring a drink for the headmaster and himself.

"Tell me, dear boy, how was Harry?"

Snape passed Dumbledore a drink and sank down in the comfortable chair beside the fireplace. "He was a burden. Only in the last two nights have I managed to sleep normally."

Dumbledore nodded and took a sip of the mead. "But besides that, how was he? Did he say anything about what happened?"

"Of course not," said Snape. "But I noticed that he has a lot of scars on his arms."

Dumbledore looked at Snape who knew what the headmaster was thinking: self mutilation. Snape had thought the same when he saw them, but he couldn't picture Potter sitting in a dark corner, cutting himself. Suddenly, Snape remembered the day he found Potter near the lake, toying with a knife. The same knife that someone had tried to steal from his office later that day.

Dumbledore interrupted his thoughts. "I think I have to talk to him myself, then."

__________________________________________________________-

Harry was wandering around the castle aimlessly. He felt horrible, lost and had no idea what to do. He was expected to go to the Gryffindor tower, but he didn't want to be around so many people and he was afraid that they were going to ask questions. He was glad that he didn't had to stay with Snape anymore, but on the other hand he had felt safe. The guest room had been his and no one except potions master himself could bother him.

The vague memories of the week with Snape made him feel angry, annoyed and embarrassed. But no one had ever done so much for him. No one had ever made sure he ate or came to him when he had woken up from a nightmare. While Snape wasn't the kindest person around and he hated Harry, he had taken care of him. Harry felt very confused. He was mad at Snape because he was sure he would use everything he could against him ,not to think of what would happen when if the Slytherins found out. He could imagine how Malfoy would react if he knew that Snape had bathed and fed him. Now he could never face Snape again. Especially after he had hit the man in the face and vomited all over him.He sighed deeply and decided that he had to go back to the Gryffindor Tower. All his stuff was in the dormitory and even if he wasn't going to sleep there, he needed to retrieve it.

"Shivering snow," said Harry to the Fat Lady when he arrived at the Gryffindor Tower.

The Fat Lady glared at him, clearly annoyed by his late arrival. "Wrong, boy. The password changed a few days ago."

"Just let me in," Harry pleaded, knowing it probably wouldn't work.

"No password, no entrance."

Harry sighed in defeat, knowing there was no way he was getting into the tower tonight. Everyone was already inside and if he went to Professor McGonagall, she would not only worry and ask probing questions but also punish him for being out past curfew. No, turning to one of the professors wasn't an option nor was getting into the tower. The only place he could think to go was the Room of Requirement.

He sighed and made his way to the seventh floor, hoping he wouldn't come across Flich, Peeves, or anyone else. The last thing he wanted now was to get caught out of bed. He wanted to be alone and to get some rest, but he was afraid to sleep. Sleep without his potion brought terrible nightmares which he wanted to avoid at all costs, even if it meant never sleeping again. But Harry knew he wouldn't be able to stay awake for the rest of his life, however short it may be. He was sure that, at some point, he would just collapse or be forced to sleep by Madame Pomfrey.

The Room of Requirement appeared the same as the previous time he had been in there: a bedroom with a bathroom. The bed looked very inviting and suddenly Harry realized how tired he was. No he shouldn't lie down, he scolded himself, he shouldn't go to bed and enjoy the comfortable mattress. He sank down against the wall beside the bed and stared longingly at the bed. He tried to suppress a yawn, but failed. Sleep was lurking very close by, trying to take over, but Harry resisted with the last of his strength. He started naming all the spells he knew, then he continued to classify them by colour, effect and alphabet, but eventually exhaustion overcame Harry's valiant efforts to stay awake.

Harry awakened in the morning feeling terrible. His back ached, his neck was stiff, and he was still exhausted. The images of his nightmares were still haunting him, terrifying him. It took him a moment to realize he was at Hogwarts and not at Privet Drive. Slowly he got up, trying to banish the haunting images from his mind by shaking his head. He tried to concentrate his thoughts on something else, but whatever he thought about, it always led him back to his recent nightmares in which Cedric and Sirius blamed him for killing them and his uncle punished him for being a murderer.

Freak, he was called in his so called home. Yes, he was a freak and freaks deserved to be punished. His uncle had told him he was too dangerous to be around people, so that's why he was locked up in his room the whole vacation and now someone has brought him back to Hogwarts. Now he could hurt someone or even kill them. He had to go to classes with other students and he had to eat in the Great Hall with the rest of the school. Every moment of the day he was endangering his fellow pupils and they didn't even realise it. They thought he was their Saviour, but he knew he wasn't. He knew that he would never be capable of destroying Voldemort. The times he had escaped from him were just luck, not skill. He had tried to make people understand, but no one ever listened. No one ever looked beyond what they wanted to see: a hero. But what kind of hero caused two people to die? A pathetic hero.

Harry chewed on his lower lip. He needed to get rid of his thoughts and the painful memories. To feel nothing at all, thought Harry, was the thing he wanted most right now. He knew a way to feel numb again and though he swore he wouldn't do it anymore he needed to. He needed some control over his life and a knife could give it to him. Just a little cut, just this once wouldn't do any harm, would it?

Suddenly a knife appeared on the nightstand. Carefully, as if the knife was very dangerous, he picked it up and admired it. It was as if the blade was begging him to let it cut his skin and taste his blood. Just this once...
Harry sat down on the bed and rolled up his sleeve. The bruises on his arm were still visible, but they didn't look as bad as a week ago. The cold blade of the knife kissed his pale skin. Harry held his breath while the knife cut slowly into his pale skin. When a small crimson rivulet streamed down his arm, he was able to breathe again with relief. For a few moments he just looked at the blood and how it seemed to take the pain away with it. It had been so long since he felt nothing, even the Dreamless Sleep potion couldn't achieve that.

A small, satisfied smile appeared on his face when he was finished with the knife. Three new cuts marred his arm. When Harry had cleaned them, he got up again and made his way towards the door, not even bothering to hide them away with a glamour charm, the time of worrying about what would happen if someone found out was over. He didn't care what happened to him as long as he could hold onto the numbness.

Harry had missed all his morning classes and during his afternoon Defence Against the Dark Arts, Lupin kept shooting him worried glances. He sat alone at the back of the classroom completely ignoring any other students and trying not to jump when someone came near him or asked him something. Every time Lupin had asked him something, he had shrugged. At the end of the class, Lupin asked him to stay behind, and while Harry was tempted to ignore his request he stayed. If he didn't, he would most likely be punished and he wanted to avoid that at all costs.

"Harry," said Lupin with a soft and gentle voice. "Why did you miss all your morning classes?"

Harry just shrugged. His eyes were focused on the professor and he was following his every movement so he was prepared to back away should he attempt to hit him.

Lupin sighed. He tried to get closer to Harry, but with every step he took towards him, Harry took two steps back. "I won't hurt you."

Harry simply ignored him, no longer able to believe the words. His uncle had sat it many times before and always hit him anyways.

"What happened when you were staying at your relatives? Did you really run into a fight?"

For a moment, Harry looked puzzled at his teacher, wondering who had told him that. Then he realized that his uncle had used that as a cover up for what he had done to him. Was Lupin the one who had brought him to Hogwarts? Did he really believe what his aunt and uncle had told him? Harry calculated his chances. If he told what had really happened, his uncle would kill him in the most horrible and painful way he could think of, but if they knew about all his injuries, and Harry assumed they did, it wasn't likely that they would believe that theory. That he was trampled by a herd of elephants might be a better lie, except that elephants generally didn't walk freely in the streets of London.

"Harry?"

Harry snapped out his thoughts with a violent jerk. While he had been lost in thought, Lupin had taken the opportunity to approach Harry closely. Harry took a few steps back and nodded curtly at his professor, signaling his attention.

Again Lupin sighed. "Dumbledore wants to see you. You can skip Divination to go to him now. The password is Chocolate Frogs."

Harry turned and hurried out of the classroom. Dumbledore wanted to see him, what did he want? thought Harry anxiously. He was almost certain it had something to do with the fact that he had missed the train and been brought to Hogwarts in such a bad shape. He decided that he must face the inevitable eventually so he might as well get it out of the way now. If he just refused to tell the truth, they couldn't discover what really happened anyway, or could they? Harry suppressed the thought of Snape performing Legilimency on him.

"Come in," said Dumbledore after Harry had knocked on the door.

Harry entered the office. The last time he was in the office, he had shouted at the headmaster and broken several of his possessions but everything seemed to be repaired and the office looked exactly the same as it had before Harry had heard the prophecy.

"Harry," said the Headmaster. His blue eyes were twinkling behind his half moon spectacles. "Sit down, my dear boy."

Harry did as told.

"How are you?" asked the Headmaster and Harry thought he heard concern in his voice. Surly he had imagined that. No one was ever concerned about his well being.

Harry shrugged. He hadn't talked to Lupin and he wasn't planning on talking to Dumbledore either. Words were unnecessary, they could only do him harm.

"Do you want to say something to me, Harry?"

Harry avoided looking into the headmaster eyes and shook his head.
Dumbledore nodded. "Now, we need to discuss you education."

Education? Was there a problem? He couldn't imagine that a few missed lessons meant that he was too far behind to keep up.

"You're going to have extra lessons in everything that will help you to defend yourself against Voldemort," Dumbledore's voice had changed from casual to business-like.

"From who?" said Harry his voice hoarse from lack of use.

"You will have two lessons a week, one from Alastor Moody and one from Professor Snape," announced Dumbledore.

Harry grunted. "Why can't I have both lessons with Mad-Eye Moody? Or can't Lupin teach me?"

"Professor Lupin, Harry," said Dumbledore patient. "And Alastor doesn't have time to teach you twice a week and Professor Lupin isn't as experienced as Professor Snape."

"Professor Snape will just torture me," mumbled Harry defeated.

A sad smile appeared on Dumbledore's face. "I'm sure he won't. He might be a bit harsh, but he would never torture a student."