Unbuttoned by lastcrazyhorn
Summary: Harry doesn't know exactly what's happening, but something isn't right between him and Professor Lupin, and he's determined to find out why. Will Snape be able to help? Abuse, implied non-con, AU, HP&PA. The character death is NOT Severus or Harry.
Categories: Parental Snape > Guardian Snape, Teacher Snape > Trusted Mentor Snape Main Characters: Dumbledore, Hedwig, Hermione, James, Lily, McGonagall, Original Character, Pomfrey, Remus, Ron, Sirius, .Snape and Harry (required)
Snape Flavour: None
Genres: Angst, Drama, Family, Fantasy, Horror, Hurt/Comfort
Media Type: None
Tags: Adoption, Alternate Universe
Takes Place: 4th summer
Warnings: Abusive Dursleys, Character Bashing, Character Death, Neglect, Profanity, Rape
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 31 Completed: No Word count: 69721 Read: 185755 Published: 23 Sep 2012 Updated: 18 Aug 2013
Noticing by lastcrazyhorn

Severus looked down at the trousers still in his grip and then looked back at the child who had cried himself to sleep on his shoulder. With the use of a quick switching spell, he exchanged the lad's pyjama bottoms for the trousers and then checked to see if they fit. Remarkably they did, and he allowed himself a private smile.

With a swish of his wand, he switched them once more and then stood up, swinging the boy's trousers over his free shoulder as he did. The trousers were the most difficult part of their excursion, but now that he had a size, he could simply fill out the rest of the child's wardrobe on his own.

Before exiting the small back room, Severus performed two additional spells on Harry. First, he applied a light sticking charm to the boy to ensure that the child would not suddenly fall from his grasp, and then he added a lightening charm. Although Harry's weight was slight, it was still more than he preferred to carry for very long without a break.

. . .

Harry was largely unaware of what was going on around him. All he knew for sure was that he was warm, relaxed and safe, and beyond that, he found it didn't really matter.

He was so tired of having to constantly be on his guard around everyone. He was tired of worrying about what was going on, and he was tired of having to remain calm in the face of everything that had happened.

A part of him wanted to rant and rage and set things on fire, but another equally loud—if not louder—part of him simply wanted to hide somewhere and never come out again. He didn't like being the Boy-Who-Lived anyway, and this latest trouble just threw everything into a tailspin.

It bloody well hurt to get betrayed by someone who should have been good to him. He had already been denied so many good things in his life, he would have thought that he wouldn't have been bothered by this, but he was.

He knew his friends were loved by their parents, and he was glad of that, but at the same time, he was so damned jealous of all the things they took for granted. Was he really that unlovable? Was he really that much of a waste of space?

Or was Lupin's kind of love the best he could hope for? Lupin hadn't really hurt him, had he?

But he had, a small voice in his mind had argued while he had cried himself out on Snape's shoulder.

He had taken away his last semblance of normalcy, his last hope for just being a regular kid.

This is what you get for daring to be more than just a worthless freak. This is what you get for wanting more than what you had in your sorry little existence.

That hurt. There had been a time at the beginning of his Hogwarts career that he thought he could be more than just his past and maybe more than just his reputation, but as he looked back on it, he realized just how impossible that hope had been.

Worthless, stupid, awful, horrible freak, nobody wants you! The mantra ran itself in his head, adding strength to his tears and simultaneously draining him that much faster. He had so wanted to not believe it. He had wanted to, well blast it—he had wanted to hope that he could be better.

But how could he now? How could just keep going forwards and hoping that things would get better when they obviously weren't? Maybe some people were destined to do great things, but not him; not stupid Harry James Potter. He was destined to be a fuck-up it seemed, and so a fuck-up he would have to be.

And yet, he couldn't help but hope just a touch, just the slightest smallest bit deep inside his heart that he was wrong. He desperately wanted to be wrong. It hurt too much to think that life wasn't going to get any better.

. . .

Severus had only just returned from London and had just barely put Harry into bed when he heard the sound of knocking at his door. As was his custom, he looked at the scroll beside the door to see who it was, and cursed aloud as he read the name, "Hermione Granger."

He didn't want to surmise how it was that she had found her way there. His snakes knew where his quarters were located, but that knowledge was not to be shared. It was a very strict rule within his house and for damn good reason too.

The knocking increased in volume, and frequency, and although he knew that he could simply cast a silencing spell to effectively ignore the little brat, he also knew that she would not give up that easily.

So it was with a foul expression on his face that he stalked over to the entrance of his quarters and flung open the door. He took some delight in watching the young Gryffindor flinch backwards, but unfortunately she did not burst into tears and she did not decide to leave of her own accord.

Feeling the need to be blunt, and knowing that a Gryffindor certainly wouldn't understand his message if he were not, he growled out his most pressing question with a fearsome scowl on his face immediately.

"How did you find my quarters?"

No niceties, no Miss Granger this or that; he was far too tired to worry about hurting the girl's ridiculous little feelings. She had no right to be there, no right to bother him in his own bloody home.

"I found it in the archives in the library."

"What archives are these?" He asked, his voice a low, dangerous purr.

Granger swallowed hard, her eyes large and fearful, yet strangely determined as well.

"It-It was a history of past headmasters and I looked up where their quarters traditionally were, and all were in the same place as the headmaster is now, except for some of them. And then I looked up the house affiliations of those other ones and noticed that most of them were the S-Slytherin ones," she blurted out, her hands twisting nervously in her jumper as she waited for him to pass his judgment.

"And this just happened to be the correct location?" He shot back at her.

"I-I-I tried three other spots before this, sir," she whispered.

I just bet she did, he harrumphed to himself.

"Explain exactly why I should not obliviate you and send you back to your dormitory?" He hissed lowly.

Any remaining colour in her face instantly faded, turning her face an interesting shade of greenish-gray.

" . . . sir," she whispered in a strangled voice.

"If you are going to waste my time," he snarled, "At least have the common decency to speak clearly."

"Yes, sir," she said slightly louder. "If you obliviate me, I won't have a chance to talk to Harry. Sir," she added as an afterthought.

"Either way, you will not have a chance to talk to him. You are not winning this argument," he said, with a cruel curl to his lip as he made a show of reaching for his wand.

"No!" A shout from behind him interrupted them, and Snape turned to see Harry standing white faced in the middle of his quarters.

"It's okay," the boy added in a softer voice. "I'll talk to her."

. . .

Harry had woken to the sound of familiar voices, and although he hadn't intended on listening in, he couldn't help but do so with the door to his room still open. However, when the conversation had gotten too soft for him to understand, he had made up his mind and crept closer.

He hadn't wanted to talk to her at all, but he also didn't want her to be obliviated.

And also, at some level it was kind of nice to know that someone had missed him enough to go to all this trouble.

"HARRY!" Hermione screeched when Snape stepped aside to let her in, running towards him at a frighteningly fast speed.

"Miss Granger!" Snape yelled just before she got to him, causing her to pause in her exuberance.

"Sir?"

"There is to be no running in my quarters," his voice deadly with the kind of malice Harry had previously feared from the man.

Harry swallowed hard under Hermione's intense scrutiny of his person, and took a step backwards as she tried to hug him.

"Please 'Mione, don't. Please," he cringed, hating the weak sound of his voice.

"Two minutes, Granger," Snape hissed as he stalked past them to the kitchenette.

"What's going on, Harry? You're so pale and—," she broke off and clasped her hands together worriedly. "How is he treating you?"

"I'm fine," Harry tried to protest, knowing it was weak in the face of his physical state.

"But it's Snape, Harry. He's never liked you, always hated you! Why are you here and not the infirmary if you're sick? He can't possibly be good for you!"

He wanted to shout at her, wanted to point at their professor who was surreptitiously watching them from the kitchenette where he was supposedly making tea.

"Look, I can't tell you about what happened, but Snape isn't the one at fault here! He's been helping me," he retorted harshly, his chest constricting at the memory of who had gotten him in the mess to begin with.

"Your two minutes are up," Snape said, striding back into the room just then.

"You know you can trust me, Harry! I'm your friend and Ron is too! We can help you get through whatever this is," she pleaded, ignoring the tall imposing figure of Snape standing beside her.

"Granger," Snape growled, putting a hand on her shoulder and turning her in the direction of the door.

"Like you helped me all term?" Harry shot back, surprising them both with the ferocity in his tone.

"What do you mean by that?" The girl answered in confusion.

"This," Harry lips quivered, but he resolutely pushed past his emotions and made himself say it. "This has been going on all bloody term, and neither you nor Ron noticed! You were my friends and you were too caught up in your stupid pets," he hissed as he angrily wiped his hand under his glasses, "to bother with me at all."

"That's not true!"

"Snape hates me, but he noticed it Hermione. He noticed!" Harry gasped out, eyes full of tears. "He. Noticed!"

"Out, Granger," Snape reasserted himself before the girl could witness Harry's complete breakdown. "Before I decide to obliviate you after all."

Her own brown eyes full of tears, Hermione took one last look at Harry before quickly exiting the room. As she left, Snape called out behind her, "And you had better keep this to yourself!"

With a burst of accidental magic—Harry wasn't sure whose—the door slammed itself shut and cut off the sound of his friend's sobs, leaving him alone once more with Snape.

. . .

Snape had expected tears from the boy, but Harry merely stood in the middle of the room, staring hard at the floor and sniffling every so often, before suddenly straightening his back and turning back towards him.

"Is it dinnertime yet?" Was the surprising question spoken in a noticeably trembling voice.

"It can be," he replied in an even voice.

"Good," Harry said, giving a shuddery breath; the hint of a sad smile just barely showing on his face.

It was after dinner, a meal where the boy had eaten more, but not anything like one of his peers might have done, that Severus dared asked him to speak of what had happened.

"It was just something I needed to say," the child answered softly, his head bowed as he studiously avoided Snape's eye. "Is it okay if I go back to bed?"

"Certainly. Do not forget to brush your teeth," Severus added as the boy exited the room.

"Yes sir," was Harry's obedient answer.

Severus waited until the child was back in bed and then he visited him in his room, a vial of Dreamless Sleep clearly visible in his hand.

"It may be advantageous to drink Dreamless Sleep at least a couple of times per week, Harry," he said after moving to sit next to his bed.

"Is there a reason I can't take it every night?" Green perceptive eyes watched him from puffy eyelids, a testament to his tears that day.

"It has been known to become addictive. And the more one takes of it, the less useful it becomes, because our bodies build up a resistance to it," he answered.

The boy merely nodded and turned over on his side with his face towards him. Quickly he drank the potion and then handed the glass vial back.

"I'm kinda sleepy, sir."

"You have every right to be," Severus answered softly, standing up and looking at the child. On a whim, he reached out and pulled the covers up over Harry's thin shoulders and tucked them in around his body.

"I need to visit the headmaster for a little while, but no longer than an hour, I think. If you should need me, you are permitted to use the floo to contact Professor Dumbledore."

The boy nodded up at him, eyes tired under heavy lids, and yet a question remained in his face.

"What is it?"

"Can anyone get in while you're gone?" was Harry's softly spoken question.

"No one. Only me," he answered confidently, happy to see the tension drop from the boy's shoulders and face almost immediately.

"Okay," Harry said, with a small yawn.

"Sleep, Harry," he said softly, laying a calloused hand on the child's forehead for a moment before leaving him in the dark, the door cracked just a bit. As he left, he cast a spell on his room to alert him if the boy had a nightmare.

Then he flooed up to the headmaster's office.

. . .

"I want to take him away from Hogwarts and give him a chance to heal." Severus said to Albus.

"And what should I tell everyone else? And what of your class?"

"I'll find a substitute. And you can tell them the truth; that I've taken him away for special training."

"I cannot cover your class, Severus. The defence position is a full-time job."

Does he think I don't know that?

"I told you that I would handle it," he answered with just a hint of a growl. "Besides, there are only a few months left of the term and then summer will be here. I'm not asking for your permission, Albus. I'm telling you that this needs to be done. I will not see the rise of another dark lord, especially not when I can do something to stop it."

Silence, and then Albus sighed and looked down at his desk. "I took his memories, Severus."

"Whose?" Severus asked with a sharp tone.

"Lupin's. I took Lupin's memories before he died. I needed to understand." Albus answered with a face of remorse.

Snape felt cold wash through him at what his mentor had seen and was still likely seeing.

"And do you?" His voice croaky.

"He loved him, Severus. He truly did as best he could, in his own way; the way he had been taught to love."

Severus swallowed hard, instantly understanding the implications of Albus's words and feeling sick for it.

"Who—who taught him thus?" His voice no more a dry whisper; his fingernails pressing welts into his palms.

"His father did."

Severus slumped back hard against the back of his chair; briefly deflated with that knowledge.

"Please tell me that you have pensieved these memories, Albus."

"I have. And they are warded in my chambers."

"And you would like me to take a look," he all but snarled back, his fury suddenly bursting out of his chest, moving past his shock like a fist through piece of tissue paper

"I wouldn't ask that of you, Severus," Albus's eyes looked suspiciously wet—dear Merlin, was the man opposite him actually crying?

"Of course you wouldn't. That wouldn't be passive aggressive enough for you," Severus retorted instead, angry at everything surrounding their current situation.

"Severus," Dumbledore admonished softly, his face looking pained.

"Damn it, Albus," Severus answered in an equally soft voice before falling silent once more.

Finally, Severus ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Fine. Make me a copy. Ward it with my blood if you must, but I cannot promise you I will look at them. I cannot make that promise Albus."

"I understand, my boy. I understand."

To be continued...


This story archived at http://www.potionsandsnitches.org/fanfiction/viewstory.php?sid=2858