Harry takes a deep breath and raps on the potion master’s door. He knows he needs to do something, and he knows this is what he should do, but he still doesn’t really want to. Not that She is exactly giving him a choice in the matter. And, truthfully, it is better than the alternative. Firmly telling himself to just get it over and done with, he obeys the smooth voice calling him to enter.

The dark man looks up from his desk, his eyes widening slightly in surprise as he identifies his visitor before his usual sneer slips into place.

“Potter. What brings the Gryffindor golden boy to the dungeons?” Harry swallows hard. This is it, this is his chance.

“Professor, I heard you were the one to go to if… and, well, She said… Ineedyoutocometothehospitalwingwithme.”

“I apologise, but I do not speak dunderhead. Say that again so I can actually understand you.” The sarcasm is poorly concealed, but the familiarity of the tone settles him. Closing his eyes, he takes a calming breath and tries again.

“I need you to go to the hospital wing with me.”

Snape’s eyebrows rise briefly at the statement, but he stands and walks over to hold open the door. It is the one request that, particularly when presented in such a manner, he can never refuse.

“Very well, Potter, but if this is some sort of joke…”
Harry flashes his professor a quick grin, relief flooding through him. First hurdle passed.

“You’ll turn me into potions ingredients, I know.”
_______

Harry walks into the hospital wing, then half-collapses onto the nearest bed; his dark shadow coming to lean against the wall as the mediwitch bustles over.

“Madam Pomfrey, I think my wrist is broken. Can you check if there is anything else too?”

The mediwitch gives a sharp look at the watching professor then raises her wand, waving it in a complex pattern. Strange symbols and lights start flashing over his body. Her eyes flick to follow them, her face paling as her wand movements change and become more urgent. At the same time, her free hand pulls a familiar potion vial from her pocket and thrusts it into his hands.
Gulping it down, Harry finally relaxes, sighing in relief. It is only now that Snape realises just how tense the boy was before.

“Thanks Madam Pomfrey, that really helps. So, is it broken?”

She doesn’t look up from her wandwork as she replies.

“Yes. In two places. But that is the least of your problems. Please be quiet so I can concentrate.”

Curiosity piqued by her unusually brusque reply, Snape leans forward to get a closer look at the scan. His gaze sweeps over the symbols still glowing with a variety of colours. Once. Twice. He stops and stares at the boy before him, failing to hide his shock at the results.

“Mr Potter. Might I ask how it is that you are arriving at school with such injuries?”

Harry just shrugs.

“I’ve had worse.”

Snape loses the struggle with his eyebrows and they rise incredulously.

“Mr Potter, if you had not come to us when you did you quite likely would have died!”

The boy nods.

“As I said, I’ve had worse.”
_________

Silence fills the room, and Harry looks up to see both adults staring at him in shocked confusion. Telling himself once again that this is the purpose of his visit, that this time he is supposed to talk about it, he takes pity on them and explains.

“Well, you see, sometimes when Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia got really angry they’d take things a bit further than they meant to and I’d have to spend some time with my parents. Mum and dad said they’re not angry at me for dropping in to visit, and it’s great to get a chance to talk to them, but it was getting a bit awkward having to send me back again so often. Even if I am – what do they call it – prophecy-bound. They said they love me, but given how well last year at school went, and the problems over the summer, I really should tell someone else about it so they can actually fix things. I have to say, it will be nice not having to deal with the Dursleys over summer, although it’s already loads better with being able to escape here most of the year.”

He turns to face his teacher, ignoring the slightly shell shocked expression.

“I also have some messages for you, professor. Dad says that he is sorry for what he did in school, but you really need to get your eyes checked. Because you are being incredibly blind for such a smart man, not to be able to tell that you are talking to me not my father. Speaking of, can I get my eyes looked at too? According to Hermione, I should be able to read the board from further than the front row.” He flashes a look at Madam Pomfrey who nods dazedly and makes a note, before returning his attention to the professor.

“Anyway, mum asked me to tell you that she forgives you, but you had better remember your promise and follow through on the rest of it. I wasn’t too sure about that plan, but we had a long talk at the end of last year after Quirrel, then discussed it a couple more times over the holiday. Eventually she convinced me. After all, even if you are the greasy bat of the dungeons almost anything would be better than going back to the Dursleys.”

He pauses and bites his lip nervously, running out of steam.

“Please? You will do as you promised mum? I can stay with you instead?”

Snape looks at the pleading in the boy’s eyes and dazedly nods his head, mind whirling. He doesn’t know what to think about the child’s story. It is too much. Lily said… and James said… and the boy talked, visited, with them… which means… and his relatives… and him…
He wonders if the child realises that he has just turned his entire life inside out.
_______

One thought stands out from the jumble in his mind. He talked to Her. He knows it’s crazy, but he has to ask. After all, surely that isn’t the only method the boy has to communicate with them, surely it didn’t happen that often…

“I don’t suppose, at some point, I could get you to ask Li- your mother…” The question slips out before he fully makes up his mind, but he trails off at the child’s expression.

“No. Nonono.” The boy shakes his head emphatically. “Not allowed. I got in so much trouble with them the time that I took myself to visit. They said my aunt and uncle send me more than often enough, and I can only decide to come myself if I really don’t have any other option. Dad kept yelling about how if I abuse the magic it will stop working and I won’t be able to come back – I didn’t use to see the problem with that, but I guess now I’d miss Ron and Hermione – and mum also said something about it being a sin.”

He leans closer, his tone conspiratorial.

“But sometimes, when I really want to see them, I try to make Uncle Vernon extra mad so he’ll send me to them again. Of course, if I don’t get him angry enough then it just hurts more; I hate it when that happens...”

Snape sees a shiver run through the boy at the memory, but a moment later his face breaks into a smile.

“But I got really good at telling how to set him off; it’s much simpler than trying to stop him in the first place. And once he gets started it’s easy to keep him focussed.”

Sweet Merlin. He’s dealt with suicidal students before, but never anything like this. The boy has absolutely no concept of the value of life. Suddenly he is incredibly grateful for the Potters’ rule – parenting from beyond the grave, although that is less of an obstacle than most cases. But really, how do you protect someone for whom life and death have lost their traditional meanings?
____

Nine months later

Snape feels his muscles finally relax as he looks at the small boy before him, the filthy and bloodstained robes contrasting disconcertingly with the excited grin now spreading across his face.

“Sir, I got to see them! The basilisk bit me, then Fawkes cried on it; but I got to see them, just for a few minutes. Dad said he was proud of how I fought and Mum approved of me coming to help Ginny. They said you’ll do fine this summer but they’ll be around watching anyway. It’s sad that I won’t see them again for a while but it’s going to be great having a proper summer holiday.”

He smiles and nods at the right places, leading the child firmly towards the hospital wing. Merlin, the boy had actually died. Again. While in the school. Also again. The Potters might have faith in him, and Harry might be able to bounce back and forwards between life and the afterlife, but the Chosen One will be the death of him yet. He knows it.