Seven year old Harry had never seen his Aunt and Uncle so angry before. It wasn't like he did it on purpose— whatever he did that is.

He had absolutely no idea how he'd managed to end up on the school roof. It just happened so quickly, like he'd somehow teleported up here, as if by magic... The last thing Harry remembered was being chased by Dudley and his gang, about to be pummeled to the ground in their daily dose of 'Harry Hunting.' He had been cornered and recalled desperately wishing that he could escape, to be anywhere but there. Then the next thing Harry knew, he was staring down at his attackers with a brief sense of satisfaction before realizing how much trouble he was going to be in.

He'd also attracted the attention of the entire school, and the headmistress would surely be informing Uncle Vernon about his strange appearance on the roof. His uncle hated whenever he did anything freaky. 

On the way home, Harry knew he was in for it, especially after hearing the Dursleys speaking with the headmistress about the stunt he had pulled. As soon as the car parked in the driveway, Uncle Vernon had forcefully dragged him from the car, through the house, and into the kitchen.

"You really done it now boy!" Uncle Vernon shouted, his face turning an unpleasant shade of red and one of his chubby finger shaking in front of Harry's face.

"I didn't mean to! I swear I don't know how I did it!" Harry tried to explain, backing away and pressing himself into the counter. "It just sort of happened— It was like mag—"

"Don't ever say that word!" Uncle Vernon roared, causing Harry to flinch. "What did we say about never speaking that word?"

"I'm s-sorry, Uncle Vernon!" Harry stuttered.

"I warned you boy!" his uncle said, clutching onto Harry's shirt and tugging him closer. Harry could make out an angry vein pulsing on Uncle Vernon's forehead as he struggled futilely against his firm grip. Then, with one hand still holding onto Harry's shirt, Uncle Vernon deftly undid his belt from around his wide waist. He waved it around menacingly and struck the countertop, making a loud snapping noise before he hissed, "I will not tolerate any more of your freaky outbursts!"

Harry's heart pounded inside his ribcage, as he stared at the belt, a cold realization hitting him. He'd never been punished with a belt before... 

"P-please Uncle Vernon— I didn't mean to— I promise I-I'll be good!" Harry pleaded as he threw his hands up and tried to squirm away from Uncle Vernon's strong grip. In the next moment, Harry was released, and fell against the counter when he was suddenly backhanded across the face. Bringing a hand up to palm his stinging cheek, Harry glanced up at his uncle, unable to stop the tears that began filling his eyes and blurring his vision.

"I'll make sure you never do anything freaky again, even if I have to beat it out of you!" Uncle Vernon said, and there was a sort of maniac gleam in his eyes as he began swinging the belt.

It had been one of the worst days of his life. Even worse than that one time he had somehow turned his teacher's wig blue. For that, he was simply locked in his cupboard for a couple of days without food and was smacked around a couple of times, but this was the first time that Uncle Vernon punished him with a belt instead. Harry had tried to scramble away, but that only caused Uncle Vernon to become even more furious, earning Harry an extra punch in the ribs for the effort. At one point, he had pathetically begged Aunt Petunia for help, but she simply gave him a look of disgust and turned the other way.

He really should have known better. Nobody ever cared about him anyway...

Harry wasn't sure what was happening at the moment, all he knew was that every unpleasant memory he kept locked away in the back of his mind was now replaying in front of him. He couldn't stop watching as they continued, one after the other, continuously without reprieve.

And strangely, it seemed as if he could also feel them as well...

Every slap across the face from a rough hand, every lash with that leather belt, and every punch to the ribs could be felt as if he was actually there, reliving it.

Now as he endured the searing pain of the belt lashing his back, his Aunt and Uncle's cruel remarks seemed to whirl around him, echoing in his mind.

Nothing but a worthless freak... Burden to my family, you are...

Should have dropped you off at the orphanage... See if anyone would want to deal with your strangeness...

Nobody would want you... Ungrateful little freak... Always causing trouble...

It was all true.

No matter what he did, Harry would always be the freak, the burden, the orphan that had been dumped on their doorstep.

Nothing more to them... Or to anyone, a cruel voice reminded him.

Harry tried screaming, shouting, and pleading for something— anything that would allow him to escape this hell he was in, but everything he did was useless. It was as if he was shouting into a void, no one able to hear him.

Why bother though? What was the point?

There was nobody that would save him, like usual.

So the memories continued on... Relentlessly. Mercilessly.

Poppy was right; the curse was certainly getting worse, much worse than Severus could have imagined.

When Severus had arrived back in the infirmary, he was immediately met with the sight of Harry screaming, thrashing violently on the bed, his body convulsing as if being continuously struck by an invisible force. And once Severus drew closer to his son's bedside, he noticed a bit of red beginning to stain the sheets beneath Harry. Poppy seemed to notice as well because she quickly flicked her wand, stilling Harry's erratic movements, before she flipped him onto his stomach and vanished his pajama shirt.

As if Harry hadn't endured enough today; now there were angry welts and gashes on his back, bleeding freely, amidst the wounds he'd sustained earlier during the Dark Lord's torture session that still hadn't completely healed yet. Purple bruises began materializing on Harry's face and arms as well, darkening by the second. It was sickening to watch, and Severus wondered how much more Harry's body could take.

"I-I'm sorry... Uncle Vernon," Harry mumbled, and continued to mutter apologies to that vile Uncle of his. Severus clenched his hands as a bolt of anger tore through his insides, and although he was very tempted to locate those Muggles right now and strangle them himself, he shoved those emotions forcefully behind his shields. He would control it for now, and unleash it on those unsuspecting Muggles once the time came.

Poppy waved her wand in a complicated motion, conjuring a large sheet of parchment that hovered above Harry's bed. Written across it, Severus realized, was a list of injuries that Harry was suffering from at the moment. He stared at it, unable to tear his eyes away as he watched the list continuing to grow.

"This should help us keep track of the injuries as they appear," Poppy said, and with another flick of her wand, a tray with an assortment of potion vials and salves floated from her office and landed lightly on the bedside table. "We should hurry before the injuries get worse."

For the next hour or so, Severus and Poppy worked silently on Harry, healing injuries one after the other as they materialized.

How could anyone beat a child this severely? Severus thought, wondering how Harry could have survived this ordeal the first time. The most likely explanation Severus considered was that somehow Harry's magic had kept him alive and assisted in the healing process. Fortunately, wizards possessed the ability to heal much quicker than Muggles.

Finally, it seemed to end, and Severus was truly beginning to feel his exhaustion from this endlessly long day. It was appalling how many cuts and bruises they had healed, along with a few broken ribs and a mild concussion.

"Harry is stable for now. It seems that was the last of the injuries," Poppy said, glancing at the parchment again, before she looked back at Harry and cleansed the sheets with a wave of her wand.

After resettling Harry on the bed, Poppy spelled a clean pajama shirt on him, then pulled the covers up to just below his chin.

"One of these days, I'm going to pay those Muggles a visit," Severus muttered as he used a damp cloth to gently dab at Harry's sweaty forehead. If it was up to him, Severus would tear those filthy Muggles to shreds— with his bare hands. It was nothing short of what they deserved, beating the boy to within an inch of his life. Once Severus was through with them, there would be nothing of those filthy Muggles left. No one hurts a child in this manner and got away with it, especially not his child.

"Well, it's about time someone did," Poppy said, gathering up the empty potion vials. "It's absolutely inexcusable what they did to Harry."

Severus nodded, looking forward to that day. He would have all manners of dark curses ready to experiment on his new test subjects.

But for now, there was a more pressing matter that had to be dealt with. This curse was still progressing, and after the most recent episode, they needed to find the counter curse as soon as possible.

With Harry stable for now, Severus turned and swept towards the Floo, intent on checking with Dumbledore. Hopefully, he made some progress in figuring out the counter curse in the last few hours.

When Severus arrived in the headmaster's office, he found Dumbledore at his desk, surrounded by several large books and pieces of parchment strewn all over the desktop.

"Ah, Severus," said Dumbledore, unsurprised by Severus' abrupt appearance as he glanced up from the book he was perusing. "How is Harry?"

"Not well," Severus replied with a slight shake of his head, "but he is stable at the moment." He started pacing back and forth, using the limited space in front of Dumbledore's desk. "Poppy and I have just healed Harry as he relived another memory. This time, there were multiple lacerations on his back, a few broken ribs, and a mild concussion."

Dumbledore simply nodded, a bit too nonchalantly in Severus' opinion, as the old man reached for the tin of lemon drops and popped one into his mouth.

Severus paused in his pacing and sharply turned to face Dumbledore. "Did you know?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest.

This was certainly a matter that Severus had been meaning to discuss with Dumbledore ever since his shocking discovery about Harry. Surely, Dumbledore must have noticed some signs of mistreatment and abuse in the last five years, having been somewhat close with the boy. But if he did, why didn't he anything done about it? The blood wards could be a reason, however, Severus found it difficult to believe that Dumbledore couldn't come up with any alternative options to ensure Harry's safety. Especially considering the people that harmed his son the most were also housed under the same protection.

Dumbledore raised a white eyebrow and asked, "Did I know what exactly, Severus?"

"Were you aware of what went on in that house?" Severus bit out impatiently.

Dumbledore gave a heavy sigh, setting his book aside. "I am aware that Harry wasn't loved in that home, but I never knew it went that far. At the time, it was the only place that could keep him safe. The blood protection—"

"I don't give a damn about the blood wards!" Severus snapped, not willing to listen to Dumbledore's poor justification for leaving Harry there. "Did you even have the mind to check on him all these years? He was far from safe under those protections!"

"I had misjudged Petunia and her husband's ill feelings towards magic," said Dumbledore, his blue eyes dimmed.

"She had always been spiteful, and jealous of Lily," said Severus. "What made you think it was good idea to leave Harry in her care?"

"I had hoped she would have settled her feelings on magic to care for her sister's orphaned son."

Severus snorted. "Obviously, she had  not. Otherwise, my son would not have been neglected and mistreated by that fat slob of a Muggle she married."

"I do regret leaving Harry there," Dumbledore admitted softly, and he looked every bit his old age, slumping forward slightly in his chair with a sigh. "I did believe it was for the best."

Severus forced out a breath, then sank into the chair in front of the headmaster's desk with a wary sigh. The anger fueling him was slowly being replaced with a deep exhaustion that began to settle deep into his bones.

"All these years, why didn't anyone notice? Surely, you or Minerva could have seen the signs..."

Or I should have noticed them, Severus finished in his head. He had always prided himself on his observation skills, but they had truly been lacking these last few years whenever it came to Harry.

Dumbledore gave a short nod, clasping his hands together. "Harry was rather adept at concealing it. I am fairly certain he did not even tell his best friends."

Severus wondered about that, remembering the well cast glamour he'd found on his son just a few days ago. "Yes, he had been concealing his old scars and injuries with glamours, and it was only because they had fallen that I found out about abuse," he said. If only he'd known sooner, then perhaps he could have prevented the existence of the more recent scars.

When Dumbledore didn't respond after a few moments, Severus continued, "I intend to visit those Muggles one day to make sure they get what they... rightfully deserve." He gave Dumbledore a look that dared the old man to try and stop him.

"Of course, and I won't prevent you from doing so," Dumbledore said, a spark lighting in his blue eyes. "In fact, I may even accompany you on that visit."

Severus simply inclined his head at that, a bit surprised at that response.

"And I must admit," Dumbledore began, his features softening as a smile appeared on his face. "I am rather surprised, and quite pleased with this change of heart, Severus. It is what Harry needs more than anything right now."

Severus glanced away, unable to hold Dumbledore's gaze when the usual twinkle returned to those piercing blue eyes. He gave a small nod of his head in acknowledgment, not knowing how to respond to that.

His eyes settled on the book Dumbledore had been reading, and Severus was instantly reminded of the current situation they had yet to find the solution to.

"Have you found anything regarding this curse yet?" Severus asked, eyeing the books and parchment.

Dumbledore took the book he had set aside a few moments ago and rotated it so that Severus could read the text. "It is similar to a curse that was used on tortured prisoners, forcing them to constantly relive their most tortured moments until most went insane, or perished due to the combined effects of all the injuries."

Severus leaned forward a bit, his eyes skimming over the text. "And how long does that take?" he asked.

"It varies depending on the person," said Dumbledore. "Harry has experienced many troubling times in his life, in which case, the effects of this curse are more powerful to him."

That was a bit of an understatement. Severus thought Harry had certainly endured far too much for any child his age just from the last few years at Hogwarts alone. His son had somehow survived multiple encounters with the Dark Lord and countless threats to his life, not to mention all those years of abuse he had suffered at the hands of his despicable relatives. It was a miracle that Harry had survived thus far and wasn't more damaged.

But was he reaching his breaking point? Will it soon be too much for his son to handle?

"Is there a counter curse?" Severus asked, shifting his gaze back to Dumbledore.

"There is a spell, that can pause the flow of the memories, long enough for Harry to break free from the curse," Dumbledore said, flipping to the next page with a wave of his hand. "However, I fear that Harry will not be able to break free of the curse by himself. It might be too powerful for his mind to handle, and it will proceed to shut down on itself."

Severus' eyes widened slightly as he glanced through the details of that spell.

If Harry's mind began shutting down, his magical core would soon follow.

And then he would be gone...

Severus resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands, clenching the arms of the chair instead, and shaking his head to clear those thoughts.

No, I would not let that happen.

Severus cleared his throat, then asked, "What do you propose we do, Albus?"

Dumbledore met his gaze, a gleam in his blue eyes. "You will need to enter into Harry's mind again, Severus, and help your son truly break this curse."

Dumbledore had positioned himself at the foot of Harry's bed, his wand at the ready, and Poppy stood opposite Severus on the other side of Harry's bed, ready just in case something went wrong.

Once again, Severus gently opened Harry's eyes and after receiving an affirmative nod from Dumbledore, he looked deeply into those green eyes and muttered the spell.

Severus found himself in that same, distasteful Muggle kitchen, and a loud voice, which he instantly recognized as Dursley's, could be heard echoing off the walls. Harry, who appeared a bit older than before, was curled up on the floor at Dursley's feet, rambling apologies in a futile attempt to appease his abominable uncle. But Dursley continued on, now shouting about how ungrateful freaks don't deserve food, and Severus had to suppress the urge to throttle the man before him.

With great difficulty, Severus turned away, attempting to shove the anger behind his shields and gain back some semblance of control. He needed to focus now. The present day Harry must be around here somewhere...

"Harry?" Severus called, hoping to catch a glimpse of the boy he'd become familiar with somewhere in the room. There was no response.

He searched the room, until he spotted a slight movement in the corner of his eye, something that appeared out of place. There, nearly hidden in the doorway connecting the hallway to the kitchen, was a translucent figure confined within a continuously, swirling dark cloud. Severus took a closer look, and felt a small amount of relief when he confirmed that it was the teenage Harry. Though the relief was short-lived when Severus attempted to get Harry's attention. His son didn't seem to be able to see him at all, entirely fixated on the memory still playing out behind Severus.

There was such an anguished expression on Harry's features, his eyes dull and haunted, that it made Severus' chest tighten. It was the appearance of someone who had suffered too much and was reaching his breaking point.

His sense of urgency increasing, Severus stepped forward, attempting to block Harry's view of his younger self and Dursley before trying to get his attention again.

Then, suddenly, everything around them seemed have stilled and the shouting finally ceased, as if someone had paused time. The memory became misty and out of focus, the colors muted and less vivid.

That must be Dumbledore, momentarily pausing the memories, Severus realized. Now he needed to hurry; there was no telling how long it would last.

The menacing dark cloud surrounding Harry hadn't stopped its swirling, though it did seem to have slowed and appeared slightly less dense than before.

Severus once again tried calling Harry's name.

This time there was a reaction; Harry flinched and his eyes darted back and forth wildly until they landed on Severus. His son didn't seem to immediately recognize him, however, as the boy jumped back, arms raised in a defensive manner.

Severus cautiously reached his hand out and spoke calmly as if trying to tame a wild animal, "Harry, it's... your father."

Harry simply stared at him with wide, fearful eyes, and Severus' heart dropped.

Did Harry not remember him? Was it too late? Was his son too far gone to be saved?

But then, a moment later, something flickered in those green eyes, a gleam of recognition that Severus was relieved to see.

"Sir?" Harry said hesitantly, his voice muffled and faint.

Severus had to strain to hear him; it sounded as if there was a glass barrier separating them. He felt an inexplicable pang at being called sir, but quickly brushed it off, not quite able to understand it at the moment.

"Yes, Harry," Severus confirmed with a nod, attempting to appear calm. "The Dark Lord's curse is forcing you to relive your worst memories. Albus has paused them to allow you time to escape."

Harry didn't respond, still staring at him, seeming unable to believe that Severus was actually there.

"Reach past the clouds, Harry," Severus told him, holding his hand out and beckoning his son to do the same. "Then I can pull you the rest of the way out."

For a long moment, Harry simply stared at his hand, making no move to do so.

"We don't have much time; Albus can only hold the spell for so long," Severus said urgently, in as gentle of a tone as he could manage.

His son glanced up at him, green eyes wary. "Why would you want to help me?" Harry said softly, his voice trembling. "I'm nothing but a burden to everyone and a no good freak..."

Severus' heart clenched hearing the resignation in Harry's voice. "You are none of those things. Do not listen to them," he said with a forced calm, and when Harry looked back towards the still form of Dursley, Severus stepped into his line of sight and extended his hand again. "Come, Harry."

Harry shook his head, clutching his arms around himself. "But I cause so much trouble. Just a worthless little freak that nobody wants," he whispered, nearly too quiet to hear. "I don't want to do this anymore..."

Then, to Severus' horror, Harry seemed to flicker, his body gradually becoming more transparent with each passing moment.

His son was slowly fading away...

"No!" Severus shouted, a bit too harshly than he'd intended as his fear finally spilled over. Harry flinched violently and stepped back, staring at him with wide eyes, before he dropped his gaze.

After taking a steadying breath, Severus attempted to modulate his tone into a calmer one. "Harry— look at me," he said firmly, and when his son finally brought his eyes back up, he continued, "The Dursleys were wrong. You are not a freak and most certainly not a burden."

It wasn't enough; Harry didn't look entirely convinced yet, and Severus had to suppress the increasing panic threatening to overwhelm him as his son continued to fade even more.

"I care about you, Harry, and I certainly... want you as well," Severus said, hoping those words were adequate, because he certainly meant them. He would do whatever it takes to not let Harry slip away.

Harry looked back at him searchingly, as if trying to find any hint of dishonesty. Severus was relieved to see a spark of hope lingering in those green eyes.

"Really?" his son whispered after a moment. He sounded so very young and vulnerable, needing reassurance as if he couldn't quite get himself to trust Severus' words.

"I promise you will not be alone any longer," Severus said with conviction.

And knowing everything that his son had been through, Severus would continue to give reassurances to Harry if need be until the message fully sinks in.

Severus extended his hand again, and this time, Harry only hesitated for a brief moment before slowly reaching forward. As soon as his fingertips made contact with the swirling mass, it crackled and sparked, causing Harry to yelp and stumble back. The clouds seemed to coil tighter around him now, flashing and rumbling like a brewing storm, growing darker, as if it could sense Harry's intentions.

"Quickly, Harry, you have to push through it," Severus encouraged.

Harry gritted his teeth and braced himself as he tried again. This time, he didn't jump back, continuing to push forward despite the many sparks emitted from the clouds shooting up his arm.

"It hurts," Harry said, giving a grimace of pain. He was nearly there, his entire hand almost completely free.

"You can do it. Just a bit more," Severus said, willing his son to keep going.

Once Harry's hand was in reach, Severus grasped it tightly in his own and began pulling the rest of his son through. With a mighty tug, Harry was finally freed from the dark cocoon and fell forward into Severus' arms. The clouds stopped swirling and began to thin into a mist until it dissipated all together a moment later.

Severus wrapped his arms tightly around Harry and held him close, afraid that his son might slip away if he loosened his hold. As soon as the boy went limp in his arms, Severus was abruptly thrust out of Harry's mind.

He stumbled backward and collapsed onto a bed behind him, feeling the last of his strength leave him. Severus turned his head in the direction of his son, watching Poppy perform a diagnostic on him. He wanted to get up and check on Harry himself, to make sure that the curse had completely broken, but he couldn't seem to find the energy to do so.

"It appears to have worked," said Dumbledore.

"Thank Merlin," Poppy replied, drawing the sheets up and tucking them around Harry. "Now they can both get some much needed rest..."

Their voices became muffled as Severus let his eyes slid shut, too heavy to keep open any longer.

It wasn't until the next evening that Severus woke, having slept away his exhaustion from that long day. He was surprised he had slept this long, but considering everything that had happened with that curse and the injuries that Severus had sustained from the brief incident with the Dark Lord, it was no wonder he had been exhausted.

Harry was still asleep and wouldn't wake for a while as his body heals from all the trauma he went through and the injuries he sustained. At least now Severus had the peace of mind that his son was sleeping and no longer suffering from his terrible memories anymore. Severus didn't think he could bear to go through that again, not after the most recent episode.

Now, Severus was seated in a comfortable chair he had conjured beside Harry's bed, determined to stay by his son's side until the boy woke from his much needed slumber. He'd brought a potions journal to fill the time, intending to read up on some new found uses of Valerian roots, but at the moment, he just couldn't quite focus on it. Instead, Severus simply sat there, watching the soothing rise and fall of his son's chest with every breath that he took.

Harry's features were relaxed, with no hints of distress now, making him seem younger than his actual sixteen years. Reaching out, Severus gently brushed the stray strands of hair away from his son's pale forehead, and frowned when he saw the red lightning bolt scar. He lightly traced it with a long finger, his thoughts resting upon everything that his son had suffered through because of it. The first scar in the line of many others that came afterwards. Physically and mentally.

Severus gave a heavy sigh and gently ran a hand through Harry's dark hair.

This was his son.

A boy who had grew up with the cupboard under the stairs as a bedroom, treated by his relatives like despised house elf, starved and beaten, and left to care for himself. One who was also expected to carry the heavy weight of the wizarding world on his much too thin shoulders, a burden that no child should have to bear...

Harry had faced the Dark Lord too many times over the years and each time, he managed to survive by the bares of his teeth. Severus hadn't been informed on all the details regarding Harry's death defying stunts, but from what he'd heard from Albus, his son seemed to just barely make it out alive every time. By sheer dumb luck as Minerva had put it. And after everything that the boy had been through, Severus realized it was going to be a long journey ahead. How much more would his son have to endure before this bloody war reached its conclusion?

Not to mention the consequences of abuse to the degree that Harry had endured, and for so long, wouldn't simply vanish without a trace. Though somehow, with few people that would show him kindness all those years with his relatives, Harry still seemed to maintain Lily's uncommonly kind nature. Albus had been trying to tell him that for years, but Severus' hatred of James had blinded him from noticing and fully acknowledging it.

Of course, Severus wasn't unaware of how he had been treating the boy. All those cutting remarks Severus had spilled onto his son over the last few years came rushing back, bringing a new wave of guilt along with it. He could admit that it was unreasonable and unjustified. It made him sick to his stomach as he thought back to how he contributed to his son's suffering, most likely reinforcing what the Dursley's had constantly led the boy to believe.

He was no better than those bloody Muggles, then.

But no more. Severus vowed to make it up to his son. He would try his best to be what Harry desperately needs. If he was able to, Severus would have gladly endured his son's pains and burdens in the boy's place. Though as much as he wanted to, he could not. The least Severus could do was help ease them, and that's what he planned on doing. Knowing the difficult times ahead, Severus would make damn certain that Harry would never have to struggle through his life's hardships alone ever again.

More than anything, Severus found that he just wanted to see those beautiful green eyes shine brightly again, like Lily's did. To see his son smiling and being like any ordinary teenager would, without a care in the world.

Severus leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

The words he said to Harry echoed in his mind.

I promise you won't be alone anymore.

And he meant it.