He’d done it, he’d actually gotten into Durmstrangs. And oh, how he wanted to go. He could finally start things over, somewhere where people might not hate him for no reason. He just needed a parent’s signature. He knew the Dursleys would never give it to him, after all it was something he wanted. That left only one option, and he wasn’t sure if it was worth it, but the worst that happened was that he was told no, and then he could just forge it. That led him to where he was now, recently returned from Christmas break and standing in front of his father’s office, begging to leave and never return. He nocked on the door and waited. When it finally opened his father stood there glaring at him. When his father finally spoke his cruel words almost made the tears in Harry’s eyes fall.

            “What is it Potter? Do you have nothing better to do than to bother me before term even begins? If you are looking for help healing whatever injuries you have sustained from your fights you have come to the wrong place.” Harry stood his ground though and choked out his answer.

            “No sir, I, I just need your signature. I know you don’t acknowledge me or anything, but no one needs to know. My, my relatives would never sign it. Once you sign it, I’ll go away. I won’t bother you again either way.”

After all, if he couldn’t escape one way, he was sure he’d be able to escape another way. His wrists itched as he extended the form. Snape reached forward and took the parchment, slightly digesting the words the child had just said. He looked over the parchment and back up to the boy, his eyes incredibly critical, displaying nothing. He held the form in his hands, as if it was poisonous.

“What is this Potter? Well? Hogwarts is no longer good enough for the famous Harry Potter, is it? You need to go abroad so that your fame can increase do you? And what do you mean ‘either way’, if I refuse to sign this form you’ll run away will you? And what will you do then? The spoiled harry potter can barely survive in his pampered little world?

With those words, Harry felt his last hope deflate. He realized that he could never escape, and even if he did it wouldn’t be enough. How could he have hoped to find a better place? A place where he wasn’t hated. He should have known that the world was too good for a freak like him. He was spoiled, he was allowed to live. But he would be ok, he’d fix it soon enough. 

“No sir, no. I, I wouldn’t run away sir. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. I’ll just go away now. Don’t worry, you won’t need to deal with me anymore, sir, I promise. I’m sorry for whatever it is that I’ve done.” With those words he reached to take the parchment back from Snape, only for his robe sleeve to slip up his arm and expose his ugliness to the man. For a moment, Snape was too shocked to take action, but then he grabbed the boy’s arm. 

“What, what is this Potter?” the man asked. He was too shocked by the boy’s arm to say anything else. The boy’s words were beginning to sink in, and Snape was starting to feel terror welling up within him. He looked at the arm, covered in bruises, but also in hundreds of self-inflicted scars. It looked like the boy had been harming himself for years. How did he never see? His previous promise came to his mind and he finally realized how close to death the boy was. If he was allowed to walk away, Severus was sure it would be into the welcoming arms of Death himself. And yet, the boy didn’t seem to be responding, he’d seemed to just give up. He slumped into his own body, and would probably have fallen to the floor if Severus was not holding him so tightly. 

“Please sir, I’m sorry, just please let go. I promise, I won’t bother you anymore. I’m sorry. Please, sir, please sir, please, just let me go!” Harry’s voice seemed to get frantic towards the end, and Severus was nervous, scared that if he did nothing the boy would be hysterical soon. While letting go of the boy’s arm, he grabbed onto the his shoulder to guide him into the office, only slightly surprised and highly upset at the flinch the action brought about. 

Once they were in his office, he guided the boy over to the couch he kept in a corner, seating them both on it. Only after the door was magically locked did he release the boy. Immediately, Harry seemed to shrink into himself, the strong façade he had used for years having left him entirely. Severus had no idea where to even begin. He decided that he should probably start somewhere, and decided to go with the parchment, knowing it was something the boy was prepared to discuss.

 “Potter, let us begin with the easiest topic, let’s. What is this?” he asked as he held the parchment up.

 Harry looked up and opened his mouth a few times, only to close it immediately and look down. Finally, he was able to respond. “It’s, it’s my enrollment form. Sir. For Durmstrang. I can begin immediately, their term doesn’t begin until next week but they have housing options during vacation. Someone, someone will come get me tomorrow. Sir.” Snape was shocked to hear this. He knew that he was not particularly kind the boy, but he had no idea that anything had gone this far. The answer was what he had expected, he had read the letter, but to hear the boy, the boy that he had always thought of as his even in the smallest of ways, explain that someone would be here to collect him virtually immediately was a bit of a shock, especially as he knew the boy would probably never leave the grounds of Durmstrangs once he arrived. Those vacation-housing options included an optional summer term. Why would the boy not wish to return to his indulgent relatives? They were so much more than he could ever give after all.

 “Why?” it was all that Severus could muster.

 Through tear stained eyes and a choked voice, he heard the boy answer. “I don’t understand sir, are you going to sign? Please, please sign. I, I know I don’t deserve it, but please, I can’t do this anymore. They have special programs. They’re nice. I, I’ve talked to them before.” And he had, he’d read that there were other magical schools, and he’d selected the one that seemed the best. He even remembered when he’d gotten the chance to talk to a professor, he’d seemed to actually care. It was probably the only reason he was still alive, he’d been about to give up hope when Professor Daskalov had come and talked to him over Christmas break. He was the one who gave him the form, telling him that as soon as it was signed he would be there to retrieve him, and that he would be there to talk to once he arrived.