The door opened and light spilled out into the hallway. "You'd better come in here young man," Severus said sternly, and Eli hung his head in shame, hands in his pockets as he moved past him and into the office. He sat down and Severus did the same on the other side of his desk.

"Would you like to tell me what happened?" Eli didn't look up and shook his head. "No? Then am I to decide for myself what happened and base your punishment off of that?"

Eli looked up. "No sir," he said. He'd never been scared of his grandfather before, but suddenly he was. He really was a very stern man if you had done something wrong, he thought, and after hearing stories of his dad's time in school, Eli knew he could really be a lot worse if he chose to.

Severus sat back and crossed his arms, waiting for his youngest grandchild to give his side of the story. Minerva had firecalled him only minutes before, telling him that his first year Slytherin grandson was on his way down to see him and that she was expecting him to receive at least one detention for pushing Alastair McGee down. Alastair was a third year and Severus wondered that with Eli's courage that he hadn't been placed in Gryffindor.

Eli, seeing his grandfather was content to wait him out, finally said, "He was making fun of me for being in Slytherin!"

"And this is surprising to you how?"

Eli grumbled and Severus raised a hand up to his ear to indicate that he couldn't hear grumbles.

"He said only dark witches and wizards come out of Slytherin and I was shaming my family by being there! He said Sam wouldn't do anything like this."

"And did you ask the hat to place you in Slythern?"

"No."

"Then you should have known better than to listen to him when you knew you had no choice in the matter. Furthermore, dark witches and wizards have come from all houses in the past, not just Slytherin."

"Voldemort came from Slytherin."

"So did I," Severus said sternly, and he fixed a hard look at his grandson. "And so do you." Eli looked at the ground again.

"There is nothing to be ashamed about being in Slytherin, and I know for a fact your mother and father would not approve of this type of violence."

"But my family's always in Gryffindor... dad, mum, aunt Hermione, uncle Ron, Fred and George..."

"Teddy was in Ravenclaw, I was in Slytherin, your cousins Fred and George junior are in Ravenclaw and Rose is in Hufflepuff. Your logic is flawed and it did not, and still does not give you the right to push someone down. I am especially surprised that you would push down an older and much larger student. It does not seem like a wise choice."

Exasperated, Eli said, "I had to do it grandpa! If I didn't stand up and show them I couldn't be pushed around now, then they were just going to keep pushing me around every day!"

Severus sighed and uncrossed his arms. He couldn't deny that this part of Eli's thought process was probably spot on and he knew the boy had probably gotten this from Harry, who was a firm believer in standing his ground when being picked on in school. The number of times he'd gotten into duels in the middle of the night with Draco Malfoy... he rubbed his temple.

"Dad always said not to start a fight, but if I was in a fight, I should be the one to end it." Eli's voice was firm, and Severus looked up.

"Did he in any way push you or touch you first?"

"No."

"You will need to learn the difference between types of fights. I will not contradict what your father has told you, but you can't bring violence into a fight that's not already violent. Do you understand? Furthermore there is more than one way to end a fight. You could walk away and deny them the right to see you get riled, you could use wit and prove that you are smarter, or you could get a teacher. In any case I would be remiss if I did not at least teach you this much: do not pick fights with older, larger, more experienced students when you are alone. You are lucky professor McGonagall was just around the corner because you could have ended up cursed or worse." He fixed Eli with a stern gaze and Eli looked down.

"I do not want you to be ashamed of being placed in Slytherin. Each house has its own merits and things to be proud of. The fact that you were placed in Slytherin tells me that you are bold and cunning by nature and I already know this to be true besides. You must figure out how to use these things to your advantage." He continued looking at Eli and realized the boy seemed too down for his own good. A thought struck him then and he asked, "What house did you ask to be put in?"

Eli looked up. He hadn't asked to be in any house specifically, but he had asked to be away from Sam. He was tired of hearing how good Sam was at flying and how good he was in Transfiguration. Eli figured if he was in Gryffindor he'd be expected to be just as good. He did like flying but he didn't like the thought of transfiguration at all, and if Sam was on Gryffindor team as Keeper Eli had figured it would be hard for him to get on the team and live up to his brother.

"Well?"

"I didn't. I just asked not to be with Sam."

"I see." There was silence for a few moments, and then Severus asked, "Did you know your father was almost put into Slytherin?"

"He was?" Eli's curiosity was definitely peaked.

"The Sorting Hat wanted to place him in Slytherin, but he did not wish to be put into the same house another student he didn't like was put in. The hat placed him in Gryffindor instead."

"But he was meant to be in Slytherin?"

"Perhaps."

"Huh." Eli looked thoughtful.

"It is likely you will not be the only one of your family to be in Slytherin in any case. You still have 6 younger cousins do you not? I believe four of them will be coming to school next year and one the year after that."

"Yeah," Eli said.

"Perhaps if you show them how well you have done in Slytherin, one of them may ask to be put there."

"Well what can I do to show them Slytherin's so great?"

"Stay out of trouble for one thing, and earn as many house points as you can so you can help your house mates win the cup. There is also Quidditch."

"First years aren't allowed to play."

"Your father played as a first year and since he left school two other first years have been given special permission to play. There happens to be two spots open on Slytherin team this year for Beater and Chaser and I know that your father has seen to it that you are proficient on a broom."

"You mean you'll let me try out?" His eyebrows rose into his unkempt hair and Severus was reminded forcefully of a younger Harry, though Eli didn't have glasses or a scar.

"I will on the condition that you stop moping about being put into Slytherin, and stay out of trouble."

Eli grinned. "I will." He stood up to leave, excited, but Severus cleared his throat.

"Eli," he said, and the first year turned around. "You will still have to serve detention tomorrow night with Professor McGonagall."

"Can't I serve it with you?"

Severus was surprised. "You would still wish to serve detention with me after the stories your parents have told you?"

He nodded. "They don't say much and you're not so bad for being a professor."

Severus almost snorted but refrained. "You will have to serve your detentions with another professor so it does not look like I am playing favorites. I do not let any of your siblings or cousins serve detention with me."

"Oh... ok." His smile had faded a little but it wasn't gone altogether. He hurried to the desk and gave Severus a quick hug. "Night grandpa!" And then he was gone, presumably back to Slytherin where Severus hoped he would stop moping long enough to try to make some friends.

When he was gone, Severus sat back to write a letter to Harry letting him know what had happened. He'd send it in the morning. He suspected that Sam had written home about what house Eli had been put into, but Eli hadn't, and maybe his letter could shed a little light into why for his adopted son. When he was done he sat back with his cup of coffee and gave himself to thought about Harry's adoption and how it had come about. He never would have believed that he would adopt Harry Potter, yet it had happened. Even when he'd done it, he hadn't been certain, but now with three grandsons and a host of other family surrounding him there at Hogwarts and on holidays, he was thankful he had, even if it had been trying then and sometimes continued to be trying now.

* * *

Harry held his arm as he walked up the long dark drive to the castle by himself. He'd purposefully hidden himself in a closet on the train so his friends wouldn't see him and Hermione wouldn't fuss over him. He was certain his right arm and maybe even his wrist was broken and he knew his ribs weren't in much better shape. At least it wasn't snowing, he tried to tell himself to cheer himself up. The last time he'd walked to the castle alone in the night, there had been a foot or more of snow and he'd been soaking wet and freezing after a long journey from Surrey. Now he only had the walk from the train station in Hogsmead since he'd intentionally missed the carriages. He was sure Hermione and probably even Ginny were having a fit by now, but what else could he do? His plan was to say he fell off a carriage so he could go to the Hospital Wing but he wasn't sure if that would hold up.

His feet felt heavy and he had to concentrate on forcing himself to pick them up high enough so he didn't trip on ruts in the dirt road. It had been a long time since he'd really had a good meal, and he silently cursed his luck that after the Quidditch World Cup he'd been made to go back to spend the rest of the summer with the Dursleys. It had been Dumbledore's idea after the death eaters had marched on the campground and the dark mark had been sent up. Harry wished he could have just gone into hiding with Sirius or stayed with the Weasleys, he was certain he'd be safe enough with them. But no, he'd had to go back and Uncle Vernon was none too pleased about it after Harry had told him he'd be gone for the rest of the summer.

Finally Harry had made the castle and as he looked up to the top of the front steps, he was displeased to find the great oak front doors already standing open and light spilling out, a tall figure silhouetted in the doorway with its arms crossed. Snape. He really wanted to grumble but knew the man would hear him. After cursing him in the shrieking shack at the end of the year before he was certain the man was out with a renewed sense of vengeance to make his life a living hell. Not that it wasn't bad already, but he was sure Snape was going to try to punish him more than ever this year. Maybe he'd set two detention records in a row.

"Making a fashionably late entrance Potter?" Snape sneered as Harry made the top of the steps. He let his arm drop slowly and bit his lip to keep the throbbing pain at bay. It still hurt if he cradled it but keeping it elevated felt a lot better than letting it hang there.

"Fell off a carriage," Harry said, but his voice had no real conviction in it and he knew he wasn't convincing.

"Or consorting with that mutt of a Godfather?" The man sneered. Harry's cheeks turned red. He wished he had just been out talking with Sirius. He hadn't heard from him all summer though and didn't know where he was or if he was coming back. He suspected the Headmaster knew and wished for once that he could be in the loop on things involving him.

"Fell off a carriage," Harry said.

A thin smile came to the Potion Master's lips then and Harry's stomach did a little sommersault. That wasn't good. He'd never seen the man smile before.

"Detention Potter. Dungeons." He pointed and Harry didn't even bother to give a longing look to the open doors leading to the Great Hall where he could hear laughter and chatter and smell wonderful food that his stomach longed for. Not that he would be able to keep anything down after not really eating for so long, but a roll or some broth would have been nice. Anything to give him some energy to do detention or even just get up to Gryffindor tower to go to bed.

Harry's legs felt like lead by the time he made the bottom of the Dungeon stairwell, and gravity had pulled him along down the stairs more than anything else. Snape swept past him, probably still smiling, Harry thought bitterly to himself, and to a broom cupboard where he pointed and Harry went in and with his good hand put a mop in a bucket and filled it with water and then picked it up to carry to the largest Dungeon classroom. Even though his bad arm never touched the mop or bucket, it still throbbed from Harry's exertion in carrying it.

"I want this entire floor spotless," he said. Harry looked at the large room and wondered how he was going to use a mop with only one hand, but his question was cut short as the mop disappeared and was replaced by a rag. "It wouldn't be detention if it wasn't easy Potter," Snape spat at the downtrodden look on the Gryffindor's face. "Get to work." He went to sit on the edge of the teacher's desk at the front and Harry slowly got to his knees. This was going to be bad. He needed his good arm to support himself, which meant he'd have to use his bad hand to hold the rag. There was no way he was going to get the floor clean. He'd be able to do little but drag the wet rag across the top of the floor and get it wet.

Trying to be quick Harry experimentally tried to close the fingers on his right hand around the rag. It hurt, but it was doable. Once he got it wet and the rag was heavy with water though, it was excruciating to lift it out of the bucket. He sat up on his knees and used his good hand to get the rag out onto the floor and then went back to supporting himself and tried to painfully close his right hand around the rag again.

"We're not here to play games," Snape called from the front of the room, but Harry wasn't listening. Dizziness was working on engulfing him and he blinked hard several times hoping it would go away. He leaned forward and tried to put some pressure on the rag and the pain overwhelmed him, sending his head spinning. It was long moments before the pain lessened enough to let him realize that his forehead was against the cold stone floor and he was cradling his arm underneath himself, hot tears coming out of his eyes. He was breathing heavy and trying to concentrate on just continuing to do that.

"What's wrong with you?" Came Snape's voice from above him. Harry didn't answer and from the little he could see of the room saw the Professor kneel beside him. "Let me see." The voice was irritated but Harry didn't care. He just wanted the pain to go away. He rolled onto his left side so his injured arm was free and Snape could see it. He felt him trying to take his arm and pull it away from his body, but Harry refused to let him and continued to cradle his arm.

"It's broken," he heard him say. Harry didn't answer. Breath, he thought, in and out, in and out. And then in a tone he couldn't decipher... maybe it was wariness, maybe mocking, he couldn't be sure, Snape asked, "What happened this time? Fall off a ladder? Get into a fight?"

"Fell- carriage," was all Harry could manage to say.

"I'm beginning to believe you less and less," Snape said and Harry did recognize his tone as tired and weary now.

"I will help you to the Hospital Wing." Harry allowed the Professor to help him to his feet, but once he was up, he knew he wouldn't stay that way. His legs buckled and Snape lowered him back to the floor.

"I'll never make it up there," Harry said, trying to grit his teeth.

"Are your legs injured as well?"

"No- dizzy. Hungry."

"When was the last time you ate?"

Harry bit his lip, angry that the hot tears were still spilling from his eyes unbidden. It was because of the pain, he told himself, anyone with a broken bone would cry, even if they were fourteen.

"Lunch," Harry lied. He supposed the last thing he had eaten had been at lunch time but it was days ago. He'd taken half of Dudley's sandwich from the waste bin. He knew his cousin had thrown it away just to have the satisfaction of watching Harry eat from the garbage can, but he had no choice. Food was food and he was starving.

"Dobby."

Harry looked up as Snape called for the house elf and he appeared, popping into existence. "Please bring us a sandwich and water."

"No," Harry said. He looked up and found Snape looking down his long nose at him. Now that he'd said no, he didn't know what to say. Dobby and Snape looked at him for long moments and then Harry said, "I couldn't- it won't stay down." Snape stared at him for what seemed like an eternity and Harry stared back. Finally he turned back to the elf.

"Warm broth and water Dobby," he said, and the elf nodded, looking worried and was gone with a loud pop.

"Are you telling me the Weasley's didn't feed you at all this summer?" Severus asked in a voice that said he was clearly not amused.

Harry hunched over his arm, feeling shaky and still dizzy and shook his head. "I wasn't with them."

"I was under the impression you were staying the summer with them."

"Dumbledore made me leave after the death eaters went to the World Cup."

Dobby appeared again with a bowl of broth and a tall glass of water and set them on the floor next to Harry.

"Fetch Madam Pomfrey," Severus said and the elf nodded and disappeared again. He watched as Harry took the bowl with his good hand, propping his broken arm against his raised knees, and drank it, trying to keep it from spilling with his shaky hand. The incident at the World Cup had been four weeks ago. If the boy hadn't eaten in four weeks... where had he been? He hadn't been traveling cross country by himself again had he? That would explain why he hadn't been up on the carriages and why his friends hadn't seen him on the train and had alerted the Headmaster...

Harry was nearly done with the broth when Madam Pomfrey opened the door to the classroom and hurried in with a bag. Severus recognized it as the medical bag she kept in the staff room behind the Great Hall in case of emergencies.

"What's happened?" she asked as she kneeled beside Harry, who had set the broth down and was cradling his arm to him again as though he didn't want anyone to touch it.

"Fell off a carriage," Harry said, and Severus sneered. The boy was clearly lying, and as he watched Poppy scan his arm with her wand and start pulling out potions, a thought that had brushed his mind earlier that evening seemed to solidify and really click into place. Every time he seemed to encounter the child after a holiday he was hurt. He'd claimed he'd fallen off the ladder, and he'd claimed he'd been in a fight in London. Now he claimed to have fallen from a carriage and he'd definitely not eaten if he couldn't hold down solid foods. He almost seemed... abused. Severus shook himself though as Poppy gave the Gryffindor a potion and helped him drink it. No, this was spoilt Potter who had run away from home because he hadn't gotten a broom for Christmas... well, technically he had from Black but still.

"Severus, help me get him into a chair so I can mend his arm." He walked the few paces to Potter and bent to lift him under his arm but as he and Poppy lifted Harry shouted out in pain and fresh tears sprung to his eyes.

"Stop," he begged. "Please." They had him in a chair before he could cry out again though and Severus was disturbed by how badly he was shaking.

"We didn't touch your arm dear," Poppy said trying to sooth him, and Harry shook his head. Instead he used his left hand to point to his ribs and then covered up his eyes with his hand to hide his tears and tried hard to stop himself from sobbing from the pain. His breath hitched several times and continued to do so as Poppy gave Severus a worried look and then scanned the boy's chest and stomach.

"His ribs are broken."

Before the night was out Severus had called Dobby back and instructed him to get Albus, who had come down at once to help them heal Harry enough to get him to the Hospital Wing. Harry continued to say he'd fallen from the last carriage as it had hit a bump and denied hiding on the train from his friends or coming to school via some other means than the train. Once he'd been healed and spelled full of the max amount of nutritive potions allowed, he'd gone quiet and refused to answer any more questions. The Headmaster had asked if his family had hurt him and Harry had done nothing but shake his head and say that he had had a pleasant summer reading Quidditch magazines and lounging around in the back yard with his cousin.

The Headmaster already knew of his trip to St. Mungos after his first year and Harry's attempt to run away back to the castle during Christmas Holiday last year, so Severus didn't remind him. In the privacy of the Headmasters office later that night, Albus said, "He insists he fell from the carriage. Perhaps he is a little clumsier in his growing body than he realized."

"You know he didn't fall from a carriage. A broken arm, perhaps, but not his ribs as well and malnutrition."

"I have no power to take him from his family if he does not ask, and the Wizengamot cannot remove him without his word that they have done something to him. It is possible that you are making too much of the situation."

"Foolish old man!" Severus spat and then turned away because he knew his outburst was foolish. Albus didn't chastise him for it though and merely fixed him with a tired gaze.

"I can do nothing," Albus said, and Severus swept out of the room, slamming the door.

‘You can,' he thought, ‘it's not that you can't do anything, it's that you won't.' And he was surprised then as Albus' voice from long ago popped into his mind, quoting to him something from a Muggle who had once said that evil only gains a foothold because people allow it to.

As horrible as it was that Harry had been injured before the school year had even started, Severus, along with the rest of the staff, were displeased to find that the child had somehow gotten his name into the Goblet of Fire and had been chosen as the second Hogwart's champion that year. The Headmaster had been irritated to say the least, and the rest of the staff surprised that it had been Severus who had stepped forward to suggest that perhaps, the boy hadn't been the one to put his name in the cup. With the things they planned on putting the contestants through that year, anyone would be foolish to put their name in if they were below seventh year, and he had the feeling Potter was tired of being injured.

Potter thought his friends were helping him throughout the year, and Severus had been content to let it stay that way, acting behind the scenes. He'd been the one to check out the book on summoning charms and leave it at the library desk in her name when he'd found out Potter would have to get around a dragon. He'd also been the one to suggest to Hagrid that maybe Harry should have a look at the dragons beforehand. And he'd purposefully left Gillyweed in a jar on his desk in the days leading up to the second task, and had turned the other way to give Granger time to take it and give it to Harry. And when he caught the brat out after hours sneaking back from the library, he'd refrained from giving him detention (twice) knowing he'd been studying to try to be ready for the third task.

And then the third task had come, and the boy had come back from the center of the maze, arm bleeding and holding Cedric Diggory's lifeless body. This was when Severus had come out of the shadows again.

Moody, or rather Crouch Jr. had taken Potter to the castle followed by himself and Albus busting down the door and forcing Veritaserum down the imposter's throat. He'd given a quick looking over of Potter to be certain he was ok, but mostly the boy seemed to be in shock as he watched the scene unfold and listened to how Crouch had put his name in the cup and then tried to take credit for helping Harry get through all the tasks to get him to Voldemort.

"Severus, take Harry and send for the Dementors. I think they'll find they're missing a prisoner."

Severus went to where Harry sat in the chair against the wall holding his bleeding arm and staring into space in a daze.

"Potter, up."

Harry didn't move so Severus put his hand under his arm and lifted until the boy stood. Hand still on his arm he lead him into the corridor and down through the dungeons and a throng of upset students who had just come into the castle. In the Entrance Hall they encountered Minerva and he told her to send for the Dementors and briefly what Albus had said and then continued to the dungeons with Harry.

"I think I need to go to the Hospital Wing Professor," Harry finally said as they neared his office. He raised a brow and let go of Harry's arm. Apparently the child had come out of his trance.

"It is not the best place for you right now."

"Why not?"

"They will be taking Mr. Diggory there."

"Oh."

He unlocked his office door and stepped aside to let Harry enter, where the boy promptly sat in a guest chair and proceeded to stare off into space again.

"I will mend your arm. Keep it still," Severus instructed as he brought over a bottle of alcohol and a sterile cloth from his cabinet. He sat in the other visitor's chair and cleaned Harry's arm. It was his right arm again, the one he'd broken at the start of the year.

"It's broken," Harry said and Severus scanned it with his wand.

"It is not."

"Yes it is, Uncle Vernon did it."

Severus looked up. "Potter, this is not the start of the year. There is less than a week left of school and you've just been through the last task in the Tri Wizard tournament." Harry didn't seem to be listening though as he held his arm and Severus used his wand to suture the wound together.

"He always does something. He did in my ribs the night I got back from the World Cup, and he threw me down the stairs the next week and did my arm in."

"You said you fell off a carriage," he tried to remind him. It was unsettling how the boy was prattling on about something he'd denied for so long. Severus wondered if he had really gotten his two injuries confused, but in the next minute Harry was talking again.

"And he got me at Christmas time last year too. It was the night I got back. He was angry I'd come back to ruin their Christmas. He wanted me to stay in my cupboard for the whole holiday again. I told him I didn't fit anymore and he got mad. So I came back to Hogwarts, only the train didn't come all the way here so I had to walk in the snow."

Severus poured more of the alcohol on another clean cloth and tried to clean the blood off of the now closed wound. He'd only have a small scar if he was lucky, but he'd have to put essence of murtlap on it right away or else the scar would be large and raised.

"I am aware that you lied to me," Severus said, trying not to be too harsh with the cloth because he hadn't had a chance to give the child any pain relief potion yet.

"And Dudley put leaves back in the gutter after I cleaned them, and when he went to look it was full of garbage, so he threw me into the ladder. I was lucky though because I got to spend the summer with the Weasleys and they fed me and everything."

Severus set the cloth down and Harry finally met his eyes. "Do you think Cedric will be so lucky?"

"What do you mean?" He wasn't certain if the child was still in a trance or not. He certainly seemed dazed.

"He's gone now. He doesn't have to see Voldemort come back. I bet it's peaceful wherever he is."

"Yes," Severus said.

"It won't be peaceful this summer," Harry said. "I always have to go back. Always."

"Do you want to go back?"

Harry locked eyes with him. "No. Why would I want to do that?"

"Because you consistently lied. You could have told me the truth any of the times I had found you injured and been removed from the situation, but you did not."

Harry finally looked away. "You would never have believed me. No one would believe a boy would sleep in the cupboard under the stairs."

No, I suppose not, Severus thought. He supposed if he'd come upon the boy during the summer in the back yard and he'd said, ‘They're mean to me they make me sleep in a cupboard and hurt me,' that he might not have believed him, and this disturbed him greatly too. A lot of things disturbed him lately.

"If you do not want to go back, you will not go back."

"Who will believe me?" His eyes were full of tears that hadn't yet fallen and Severus looked into his needy eyes.

"I will."