Although Snape was still across the street, he could clearly hear – and see – everything going on inside the front hall. The door was wide open, framing Dursley as he loomed threateningly over Potter. The boy was crumpled at his feet, his lip bleeding and a dark bruise already blossoming across his face. It looked as if he'd been backhanded.

"My wife works herself to the bone keeping this house clean! How dare you dirty it with your filth, you inconsiderate little creep! GET OUT! NOW!"

Snape had only made it halfway to the house when the boy scrabbled out from under the beefy man, disappearing into the door leading to the kitchen. The professor quickened his pace and entered the house unseen through the open door, still under his disillusionment charm.

"He gets it from his mother!" Petunia was screeching while wiping the mud from the floor. "She was an inconsiderate, selfish little freak, just like him!"

Snape felt a dangerous uptick to his anger. Lily had been his one golden ray of sunlight in a lifetime of oppressing darkness. It was beyond difficult to stand by and listen to this filthy muggle disgrace her memory…

He needed to keep moving before he did something he would regret. Granted, the torture he'd inflict on these people would entertain him immensely; he loved seeing bullies get exactly what they deserved. But he knew he would regret having to sit through a nagging lecture he'd undoubtedly receive from the headmaster.

He stepped mutely over the woman still on her hands and knees, heading down the hall. "Ouch!" She cried suddenly, sitting up and rubbing her bony bottom. "Something stung me!" Snape merely smiled underneath the disillusionment charm.

Moving slowly and quietly down the hallway, he couldn't help but notice the pictures plastered along the walls of their fat lump of a son. There were none of Potter, even within the family shots…

Snape entered the kitchen, expecting to see Potter tending to his face. He'd only been hit the once. Severus had endured much worse as a child, and at a much younger age than sixteen. A bruised face was nothing in the grand scheme of things for The Chosen One. Even Neville Longbottom could handle one measly backhand.

But the kitchen was empty. The boy wasn't there. Snape cursed under his breath. Where was the little fool?

Sudden movement out of the corner of his eye made him turn his head sharply. The little idiot was leaving through the back gate. Where exactly did he think he was going?! Potter knew the wards didn't extend much further than the boundary of the house!

Snape hurried through the open sliding glass door out to the back garden. But when he reached the gate and looked in either direction, the boy was nowhere to be seen.

.:HP::SS:HP::SS:.

Harry could taste the blood oozing from his swollen lip, and he didn't dare touch his tender face. He knew he'd have a bruise covering the entire lower half of his cheek by nightfall. Reaching the back gate, he sprinted away from the house. He wasn't supposed to leave the protection of the wards, but he no longer cared.

Screw Uncle Vernon. Screw everybody.

It's not like he hadn't been hit before; he'd taken much worse beatings in the past. But not since someone out there had shown that they cared, that they actually wanted him,that they loved Harry and wanted be a true and proper family…

The thought of Sirius hit him hard. Hot, streaming tears suddenly blinded him, pouring down his face, stinging his cut lip. The self-loathing burned angrily inside him, like the earth rumbling and boiling before an eruption.

It was his fault. Everyone was dead because of him.

The thought kept him running, even when the burning in his chest threatened to make him stop. His lungs heaved painfully and his heart continued to throb with agony, the two melting into one and the same. My…fault, he heaved,his heart and his shoes beating the cadence together. It became a never ending rhythm of guilt as his feet pounded against the pavement. My…fault…My…fault…MY…FAULT!

His body was desperate to get air, but his mind was just as desperate to outrun the pain.

His body finally won out, forcing him to stop at the mouth of a tunnel leading underneath a busy highway. The twilight was quickly throwing the streets into darkness, and the harsh tunnel lights flickered on overhead as he crumpled to the ground. Harry bent double with his hands on his knees and his back against the cold concrete wall, heaving and gasping from the physical and emotional pain racking his body. He couldn't breathe, the sobs were choking his airway. Sliding down the wall, he finally collapsed on the ground. He dragged his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, trying to bury his face in order to quiet the echo of his weeping along the concrete walls of the tunnel.

He deserved to be beaten like this – and more. It was his fault Sirius was dead. Cedric, his parents… They were all dead because of him. He may have survived the killing curse, but it had obviously affected him in other ways. People couldn't get close to him without ending up in the ground. It was only a matter of time before he lost everyone he cared about, and was truly and utterly alone…

He hammered his fist against the asphalt. God damn Bellatrix Lestrange for taking Sirius! He would kill her one day, he would get his revenge! And God damn Voldemort for creating such a contemptible, dedicated disciple! And God damn Severus Snape for refusing to teach him Occlumency!

"Potter?" He heard his name echo through the tunnel, snickered in a tone of disbelief.

Harry raised his head slowly. It was almost a relief to look up and see Dudley and his gang walking toward him. They were passing a bottle of hard liquor amongst each other, but Harry could smell the alcohol and pot coming off them in waves. The self-hatred from moments ago swiftly redirected itself. He jumped to his feet, ready and willing to release some of his pent up rage.

"What the hell do you want, Dudley?"

"Oh, did you hear that?" Dudley announced to the boys around him, taking a deep pull of the amber liquid in the bottle. "Potter wants to play!" The members of Dudley's gang all began to laugh and catcall as they surrounded Harry. Dudley grabbed Harry by the front of his shirt, yanking him close as he murmured, "You don't have your little stick to protect you now, do you, freak?"

And he pushed Harry across to Piers, who punched Harry in the kidney and knocked the wind out him. He fell to the ground, gasping. The group laughed and high-fived one another, but the simmering rage propelled Harry back to his feet, even while he clutched his side.

"He hasn't had enough, Dudley!" Malcom hooted, sipping at the bottle.

"Yeah Big D! He wants more!" Dennis called.

Dudley was watching Harry, a wicked smile spreading across his fat face. "I hear you at night, Potter. Crying into your pillow. 'No, please! Not Sirius! Don't leave me, Sirius!'" he mocked. "I bet you loved spending time with that criminal godfather of yours, didn't you, Potter? I bet he taught you all kinds of things he learned in prison." The sickening implication infuriated Harry.

"Fuck you, Dudley!" Harry spat, not sure if he was trying to instigate a physical fight or not, but well beyond caring.

The smile immediately melted off Dudley's face. "Fuck me?" His gaze hardened as he glanced at the other boys around him. "If you say so, Potter. Get him!"

Harry turned to run, making it just outside the tunnel before they were on him. He turned and landed a punch across Piers' jaw, knocking him back. His hand – the same one he'd punched Snape with – shot with pain, but Harry didn't stop swinging. Gordon grabbed his forearm and hurled him face first into one of the chain link fences that ran on either side of the tunnel's entrance. The impact knocked the wind out of Harry, but he spun and kicked out at Piers, who was coming at him again.

The street lights cast an eerie orange light to the faces around him, and he felt the first trickle of cold fear as Malcom smashed the bottle and thrust the jagged end of it threateningly at Harry. The other three jumped on him at once and forced him to spin, his face against the fence once more.

He desperately tried to jerk himself free when Dudley approached him from behind. The boy leaned into him as he murmured in Harry's ear. "Fuck me, eh, Potter? You're about to get the night of your life, you dirty little freak…" He ground his hips against Harry's backside, and pure terror took hold when he heard Dudley undo his zipper as he announced, "Hold him down!" Harry bucked, desperate to get away, but Dudley used his meaty hand to push Harry's face harder against the chain link, effectively trapping him.

It was in that horrifying moment that through the chain link, his wide, terrified eyes locked with those of a stunned Severus Snape.