Severus huffed inwardly. What was he going to do now? He needed to talk to that blasted boy, and spending the night here was out of the question. Backing down was also out of the question. But wait. He heard something. Very faint. Almost undetectable. But the house was very still, the only other sound being Vernon turning the pages of his newspaper. And as a spy and potions professor, Severus had perfected his hearing. There definitely was something. It sounded like muffled crying.

He took out his wand, without anyone noticing, and wordlessly did a point me spell for Harry. The want moved in the direction of the stairway and felt warm, indicating that he was in fact very close to the target. He couldn't help raising an eyebrow at that bit of information. Potter, close? He was supposed to be at a friend's house for his birthday. And Severus was absolutely certain that no one had entered the house since he had. Quickly he put his wand away before Vernon or Petunia would see it. He got up, intended to find what it was his wand was telling him.

"Something we can help you with?" Vernon asked.

"No, thank you," Severus said. "I was just going to find a loo upstairs." Vernon nodded. It was almost funny how quickly he spun his stories. Ah, but then, the life of a spy. He went over to the stairs, but no one was on them. He performed the spell again. It pointed to the cupboard under the stairs. Once again, he arched an eyebrow. Under the stairs? Really? What was this all about? Had Potter really been here all this time? He laid his hand on the doorknob. He was almost entranced by the silence and the mystery of the whole situation.

"What are you doing?" Petunia shrieked. Severus almost - almost - jumped. For a moment, you could detect that Severus was actually startled. How could he have left his guard down?

"I'm opening a door, if you couldn't already see that," he drawled.

"Leave that door alone!" she continued, and now Vernon was coming. Oh, horrors. Now he'd have two of them to deal with, and he needed to open this door. He didn't know what was going on, but all his internal alarms were going off as not good. In a moment, he made a decision that would change his life forever. Before Vernon could get there, his hand tightened on the doorknob and he opened the cupboard. He closed his eyes for a moment and sucked in his breath at the sight that met him.

.oO-Oo.

Why couldn't the man just go? Did he know what he was doing? Did the man know what would happen to him if he didn't leave? Well, he'd come, so it was going to happen to him anyway. He sobbed some more, still trying to muffle it as best he could. Suddenly he heard his aunt nearby.

"What are you doing?" It was the tone she used with him a lot. But it definitely wasn't aimed at him this time. She knew where he was - she had put him in there quickly when the door bell had rung - and he wasn't doing anything.

"I'm opening a door, if you couldn't see that already," the stranger's voice replied. Oh no, oh no! He wasn't going to open the door to his cupboard. He just couldn't. Maybe this was all a bad dream and he could wake himself up. He prayed the stranger would go away and leave his cupboard alone.

"Leave that door alone!" For once, he and his aunt agreed on something. But it wasn't more than a few seconds later and the door opened. Harry felt his heart sink, but still had his face buried in his poor excuse of a pillow, muffling his tears, which had increased in intensity.

.oO-Oo.

The smell of blood assaulted Severus' nose. He opened his eyes, forced them open, and took in the scene in the cupboard. The shelves were filled with cleaning agents and other household supplies. On the floor, there was an old crib bed mattress, and on the mattress a small boy lay on his stomach. Next to him there was a thin blanket, and he had his face buried in an old small pillow. The mattress, blanket and pillow were covered in blood, both old and new. The boy's shoulders shook as he cried softly. His clothes were much too big - or perhaps he was just too small - and ripped in multiple places, not to mention the atrocious stains that covered them. He wore a hoodie that fell to his knees, and a pair of jeans which were cut off at the ankles. The boy wore no shoes, but instead had socks which were crusted over with sweat and dirt.

Vaguely, in the back of his mind, Severus heard a man yelling at him to get out of the cupboard. But he took no heed. Severus had seen things like this before. He'd seen people injured and bleeding, kept in small dark cells, crying softly, because they had to express their pain someway. But that had been in the Dark Lord's service. That was what Voldemort himself did. Softly, Severus went on one knee beside the boy.

"Harry," he whispered, but there there was no response. Slowly, he reached his hand over to the black mop of hair. If the situation had been otherwise, Severus knew he would have thought some nasty comments about it. Harry was definitely James' son, and he was about to run his hand through that hair. But the situation was what it was, and as soon as his fingers touched the hair - not even the scalp - Harry stiffened and stopped crying.

"Harry," Severus tried again. "I'm here to help you." Harry just shook his head tensely, still not looking up. Severus was brought back to reality when a rough hand was placed on his shoulder. He threw it off without a second thought and stood to face Vernon, drawing his wand. Vernon backed off a step at the threatening move.

"You will leave me alone, or I will hex you into next Tuesday, so help me," he growled. "And don't try me because I will." Vernon's eyes fell on Harry, still stiff with fright, and kicked him in the much too thin thigh. Harry hissed in pain, but didn't move or cry out.

"This is your last warning, Dursley, before I do something I'll regret," Severus threatened dangerously, his magic nearly sparking off his robes with anger. He wasn't quite sure which hex or curse to choose. As an ex-Death Eater and spy, there were just so many. But it wouldn't do to get himself locked up in Azkaban over losing his temper. Thankfully, Vernon left the cupboard, but not before throwing Harry and himself a couple of nasty looks and a rude gesture. When Harry and Severus were quite alone, Severus knelt down again, putting his wand away, and picked Harry up, pressing his face against his shoulder. Harry shuttered violently, and whimpered softly, his muscles still incredibly tight.

"Shh," Severus said softly, "I won't hurt you. You'll be fine. I won't let your uncle hurt you." Harry pressed his face into Severus' robes more, pressing the world out. Harry was much too light. It felt like picking up a toddler, and Severus was very disturbed by this fact. Perhaps it didn't help that he was a very strong man. He could lift more than his own weight without much trouble. But still, an eleven year old should weigh more than this! He carried Harry into the front room which had a sofa. He laid Harry out on the sofa, and the boy curled into a ball immediately.

The front door opened and closed, and Severus looked up quickly to see. A whale of a boy, Dudley Dursley, Severus inferred, came walking - more like waddling - in. The boy didn't even notice Severus or Harry right away. Better that way.

"Mom! Dad!" Dudley called loudly. "Do you have any dessert left? I want some!" Severus shook his head sadly. Apparently Dudley was what he had expected Harry to be. Potter. Not Harry, Potter. He was not about to get involved in the whole Boy-Who-Lived story. He was not going to take on yet another abuse case. He was not about to compromise his position as a spy by associating himself with the boy who defeated the Dark Lord. But this was also Lily's child. Could he so easily abandon Lily's child? He sighed. He really wasn't abandoning him - just not getting emotionally involved. Harry was still curled in a tight ball. Severus couldn't help thinking that his chosen position was a very uncomfortable one.

"Hey, who's that?" Dudley called out. Severus narrowed his eyes, and stood between the Dursley boy and Potter.

"That is of none of your concern, Mr. Dursley," Severus said in an even but commanding tone. It was the one he used when disciplining uncooperative Gryffindors. "As it is quite late, I advise you go to bed." Dudley just blinked at him. "Now, go!" he barked after a moment.

"What's the freak doing on the couch?" he questioned suspiciously.

"I - said - go," Severus growled. "Your cousin is under my protection, and unless you wish to cross me, do as I say." Dudley squeaked something of an affirmation and scuttled up the stairs of Number Four Private Drive. Harry had begun to cry again, shortly after Dudley had arrived and noticed them.

"Everything will be alright, child," Severus murmured as he laid a gentle hand on Potter's exposed shoulder. He flinched, but otherwise did not react. "Harry? I need to see your injuries to heal them. Will you let me do that?" Harry shook his head. Severus suppressed yet another sigh. He had seen abuse, and he'd seen torture. And right now, his instincts told him this was more akin to torture than abuse. The abuse he'd seen in his Slytherins, even from Death Eater households, had so many differences from this. He pulled a potion from his robes. It was a combination pain relieving potion and dreamless sleeping potion. Apparently this was going to be his only choice in healing the boy who refused his help.

"Drink this, Harry," he said, handing him the vial, but still Harry didn't respond other than to just shake his head. "Harry," Severus tried again. "Will you at least look at me?" Another shake of the blasted mop of hair. "Fine," Severus snapped, which got him a flinch from Harry. "I'm not angry," he said more gently this time. He proceeded to spell the potion into the child. Now he only had to wait until it took effect, and then he could work on healing the boy.

In a few minutes, Harry relaxed slightly, and his breathing became more even. Severus took this as his cue to unroll Harry and begin what he had to do. Pushing his sleeves up, he placed Harry in a sitting position and began to take his clothes off carefully. His face was pale and drawn. Persperation stood out on his forehead, even though it wasn't hot in the house. As he suspected, his clothes were adhering to wounds. Severus summoned a bowl of water and a cloth, and began to try to dissolve the scabs that held the clothes in place. He did this without magic, because there was no safe spell for such a thing. Any spell he could use would leave the wounds fresh again. It was a long process, just getting Harry's hoodie off. Of course the boy didn't have anything on under the hoodie.

After several hours of painstaking work, Severus had removed the hoodie. Occasionally Harry let out a whimper in his sleep, but that was it. Severus closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose when he saw Harry's back. It was layered with scars, and cuts at various stages of healing, with the most recent ones still seeping. Some of them were red and infected, oozing green puss. He began disinfecting and healing the wounds with a list of complex spells. Once his back was under control, Severus moved to his arms. He noticed a few scabbed over cuts there but what disturbed him more was the neat rows of scars that ran the length of both arms. They were careful to stay away from any major vessels. With all the other pain the boy was in, was he really inflicting self-harm upon himself? Severus wasn't sure, but in this case, it really didn't make sense to him. He just continued healing Harry.

In a similar method, Severus removed Harry's trousers, and healed those wounds. He was no less disturbed by those than he was on the boy's upper half. Then he began looking for broken bones. He found old broken ribs and fingers that were distorted with multiple breakages, all of which had healed wrong. One of his ankles was also broken, and he had a sprained wrist. After re-breaking and healing all of the offending bones, Severus sat down in a chair and heaved a sigh of relief. That had been a painstaking job. There was so much to do for the boy. And undoubtedly his mind was scarred as badly or worse than his back. But healing his mind would be a much longer and harder project than his body which was already hard enough.

He ran his hand over his face. There was no way he could leave Harry - Potter! - here. If for nothing else, he was certain the Dursleys would do everything in their power to harm him after he left, most probably due to his visit. There was still a few hours left on Potter's sleeping potion, and in the meantime, he would speak with the Dursleys. Getting up, he left the room, his joints stiff from strain.

.oO-Oo.

"I am taking Mr. Potter with me," Severus calmly announced to Vernon and Petunia who sat quietly watching the television.

"You have no right!" Vernon sputtered at him.

"Actually, I am well within my rights," Severus said, narrowing his eyes. Who was Vernon to talk about rights? "Albus Dumbledore, headmaster at Hogwarts, is Mr. Potter's magical guardian, and wishes him to attend Hogwarts in the fall. In those interests, I will be seeing to his welfare. Therefore, I do, in fact, have every right." Severus hoped that Durlsey could understand all the words his used. He just grunted his acknowledgement. Severus sneered.

"Thank you for a most...eventful evening, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley," he said, with a slight mocking incline of his head. "Mr. Potter and I will be leaving immediately." He turned to leave the room.

"Good riddance!" he heard Vernon call from behind him. Slowly, he turned back to face the man, crossed his arms, and narrowed his eyes again.

"Trust me, Vernon, Petunia," he said, "you have not heard the last from me. No one - no one - tortures I child like this and gets away with it when I'm involved." He finished with a hiss, and with his cloak flapping behind him left the room before he did something stupid.

.oO-Oo.

He scooped Potter up into his arms, supporting his head against his shoulder, and the other arm under his knees. Harry moaned and whimpered quietly at the touch, but didn't wake. For this, Severus had his potion to thank. He apparated with a quiet pop to right outside Hogwart's wards. The night was cool, but comfortable, and Severus made sure that his cloak covered Potter sufficiently for the walk to the castle.

As a professor, Severus knew the castle almost as well as anyone there. He was used to stalking idiot Gryffindors who insisted on risking their lives over things they weren't involved in, so he had to know it well. Stupid brats, they kept thinking he was there to make their lives miserable. Well, better miserable lives than no lives at all, right? He almost smirked at the thought. Almost, because he was still very aware of the light weight he carried. He slipped through a rarely used door which led close to Minerva's offices and living quarters. It wouldn't do for anyone but her to see him carrying Potter like this. Alright, alright, it wouldn't do for anyone but her to see Potter like this period. He was healed as best as he could in a couple hours with no notice, but he still looked terrible. And Severus knew he would for some weeks to come, and he doubted he would ever look normal. No, he knew Potter would never look normal. There were things they could do, but he would always have those scars running everywhere on his body. There was nothing he could do for that.

Since his hands were full, much as it pained his dignity, he kicked at Minerva's door. In a moment he heard her call "Enter!" but just kicked again, since he couldn't open the door. He hoped she would come over and open it for him. Sure enough, she did.

"Sever- What happened?" she said. "Get in here!" She ushered him into her apartment and shut the door hastily.

"You were right, Minerva," he said. "Mr. Potter has been most horribly abused - and for a long time it seems. I had no choice but to bring him with me. Albus should know where he is - even if he has done a terrible job of seeing to the boy's safety. He will be waking up soon from the sleeping potion I gave him. I need to get him to my quarters, and settled in, before he wakes up, and I can't leave him. It will be shock enough to wake up in an unknown place, with a man he barely knows, much less with complete strangers. I need you to tell the headmaster what has happened. I will speak to him in more detail as soon as I can. And I will make the arrangements. You can tell him there will be no need to floo over or floo-call me until I have initiated contact. Until then, there is only one valid reason to disturb me - the castle itself is in danger. I trust you will deliver my messages?"

"Of course, Severus," Minerva said, her voice tight, but not faltering. "And I'll see to it that that old fool listens."

"Thank you, Minerva," he said, with a nod. "Good night."

"Will you be able to get him into your apartment?" she replied, opening the door for him.

"Yes," he said. "I can open my own doors with magic easily enough."

"Good night," she said.

"I fear it will be a long one," he sighed. "I appreciate your well wishes." He turned and left, as he slipped through the night shadows to the dungeons, carrying a small load in his arms.