“What do you know about the boy’s relatives and his home life?” Lucius asked Severus as they sipped glasses of wine.

“Virtually nothing,” Severus said. “I only have the vague comments Potter has made in passing. He’s quite good at evasion. Why do you ask?”

“He has some familiar mannerisms and reactions to certain situations.”

Severus smirked. “Spying on the boy, are we?”

“Simply observing,” Lucius said haughtily and Severus snorted quietly in disbelief. “Besides, do you really stand in a position to judge?”

“Ah, but I am meant to be watching the boy,” Severus said.

“Based on your role in the upcoming Task, I would say you’ve gone beyond simply watching,” Lucius said, grinning into his wine glass. “Not that there is anything wrong with it.”

“I do not have a choice,” Severus said, scowling though it was quite half-hearted. “One cannot deny merpeople, particularly a chief.”

“True,” Lucius conceded, “but to be in the situation to begin with.”

Severus just glared. After some time, Lucius sobered.

“I believe Potter has fallen—or been pushed—under the radar, as they say,” Lucius said.

“I have been trying to get him to speak to me about his home, but he refuses. He shuts down and instantly changes the subject,” Severus said, nodding.

“You know the signs, Severus,” Lucius said and Severus sighed, swirling his wine.

“He fits many and what has me truly worried is how he seems to fit another nearly every few days or week.”

Lucius' face tightened and they became silent, wondering what the truth was about the Boy Who Lived.

Harry slipped out of bed when Seamus—the last in their dorm—fell asleep and snuck down into the common room. He opened the Marauder’s Map and located Snape’s private storeroom. He silently cursed when he spotted Snape and Mr. Malfoy in Snape’s rooms.

Now what would he do? There was definitely an alarm on the room and they would both come running instantly.

He bit his lip, thinking.

You could not steal from the professor, Ron’s voice spoke up helpfully. You could get help instead by telling Malfoy or McGonagall or, I don’t know, Snape! The man who cares a hell of a lot about you these days.

No one will help me, Harry thought sadly. Look at Dumbledore.

Snape isn’t Dumbledore, Ron said. Snape cares about you. Dumbledore cares about a complicit chess piece.

Harry stared at the empty fireplace, his eyes burning.

No one ever believes me, he thought weakly. 

Snape will. He’s believed you about everything this year so far and he’s helped you with everything, Ron said.

Harry considered the idea but shook his head almost immediately. If anyone was going to help him, Dumbledore would have, and if not him, then Lupin or Sirius would have. Sirius would have answered a letter if he cared enough to save his godson’s life.

He looked at Snape’s room again and perked up when he saw Mr. Malfoy was leaving. He rushed out of the common room, throwing his invisibility cloak over his body. He quickly made his way down the Grand Staircase and into the dungeons. He peeked around the corner of the corridor holding Snape’s rooms and private stores. It appeared clear. He glanced at the map, finding Mr. Malfoy a few corridors away inside the Slytherin common room.

Probably getting things of Draco’s he missed last time, he thought off-handedly.

He cleared the map and shoved it in his pocket, walking down the hall. He stopped at the door to Snape’s stores. There were probably all kinds of wards and charms and locks on the door to stop thieves and intruders. He bit his lip in thought, pulling off his cloak. He contemplated the plain wooden door then shook his head. Maybe he was over-thinking it.

He slowly reached out and grabbed the handle, relieved when it didn’t shock or kill him. He pushed and, amazingly, the door swung open. His eyebrows rose in surprise as he looked around.

With a shrug, he quickly searched for what he needed.

Lucius sighed sadly as he left the Slytherin dorms, holding the rest of his son’s things in a small box in his pocket. That task was finally complete. He was quite tired now and did not feel like walking all the way to Hogsmeade to Apparate, so he headed back to Severus' rooms.

He rounded the corner, stopping abruptly when he found the door to Severus' stores open. He frowned. Was someone really stupid enough to steal from Severus Snape? Also, why wasn’t the professor there? He had an alarm that alerted him to thieves. Had the thief found a way to disable it?

He backed away, peeking around just enough to spot whoever it was.

The small stature and messy hair shocked him.

Potter?

Why would Potter be stealing potions from Severus and what exactly had he taken?

He watched, curious, as the boy put vials into his pockets and closed the storeroom door.

Lucius considered what to do. Should he stop the boy? Should he demand the boy return what he stole? Should he get Severus? Should he bring the boy to Severus? He quickly made a decision as he saw Potter begin to walk away.

“Mr. Potter,” he called out, stepping out into the hall. The boy spun, almost toppling over, his eyes wide. “A late hour to be so far from your Tower.”

He watched as the child continued to gape and steadily paled in fear. He felt some pity for the boy as he could imagine what was going through the child’s mind. Normally, he would ignore such situations but something was telling him to make sure this was investigated. Something was going on with Potter and it went beyond being pushed into a wall by schoolmates.

“Come along, Mr. Potter,” he said gently.

Potter began to violently shake his head and he frowned. What was wrong with this child?

Harry felt physically sick and his entire body was shaking. How could he have been caught? How could he have been stupid enough to not check the map? What would happen now? Mr. Malfoy was friends with Snape, surely he would be brought to the Potions master. They might even call Dumbledore! This couldn’t be happening! He had to find a way out, a way to stop them all from finding out.

Unintentionally, his stomach rolled with the stress and fear, and he was suddenly throwing up. Tears streamed down his face and he folded into a ball on the floor. How much worse could this get? None of them could find out what happened in Privet Drive.

Especially Snape. He was finally proving himself to the man, proving he wasn’t stupid or weak, and he was his own person. Snape would be disgusted if he knew Harry couldn’t handle a couple Muggles. And that was if Snape believed him! Things would end if Snape didn’t believe him. Snape would hate him again and he couldn’t go back to that! He couldn’t handle Snape hating him again, not now he had an adult that seemed to kind of care. He couldn’t lose that.

He buried his face in his knees as he sobbed. He jumped violently when a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Everything’s alright, Potter,” Mr. Malfoy said gently. “Just take some deep breaths and calm down. Everything will be alright.”

Harry forced himself to listen, well, kind of. Mr. Malfoy had a similar effect on his as Snape. Something about the man caused him to relax. As such, it wasn’t long before he was breathing normally with a few tears falling quietly down his face. Once calmer, he peeked over his knees at the blonde man. The grey eyes—so much like Draco’s—were carefully watching him and were full of patience and even kindness.

“Alright now?” Mr. Malfoy said and Harry gave a tiny nod. Mr. Malfoy smiled. “Good. We’re going to see Professor Snape—“

Harry had started shaking his head again, his eyes wild.

Mr. Malfoy moved his hand to Harry’s knee. “Calm down. It’ll be alright. I will talk to him. He will not be angry with you. I will explain and he won’t be angry. Remember, I’m friends with the professor so I know how to talk to him.”

Harry stared at him, gauging the sincerity. After several moments he nodded, making Mr. Malfoy smile again.

“Very good,” the man said. “Come on now.”

Harry shakily got to his feet with the help of Mr. Malfoy and he grabbed his fallen invisibility cloak. With a comforting hand on his back, Harry was led down the corridor to Snape’s quarters. He shrunk in on himself the best he could as they entered the rooms and Snape came in. He watched as Mr. Malfoy went to the professor and they talked in hushed tones. Several expressions crossed Snape’s face and Harry shifted uncomfortably, wrapping his arms around himself tightly. Soon the men parted and approached Harry who looked at them anxiously.

Mr. Malfoy took a moment to kneel in front of Harry. “He wants to talk with you. He is not angry, I promise.”

Harry glanced at Snape’s familiar stoic expression nervously. He nodded at Mr. Malfoy a few moments later. The man smiled and squeezed Harry’s shoulder before swirling away through the Floo. Harry turned back to Snape, biting his lip as Snape stepped forward.

“Shall we sit, Mr. Potter?” Snape said, gesturing to their usual spots.

Harry sunk into his chair. Yes, it was now his chair. They had discussed it the other day. It had been a pleasant conversation. Somehow, he knew this would not be as pleasant.

“Tell me about the Dursleys,” the professor said.

He had been right.

“They hurt me.”

His eyes fell shut after the whisper. He honestly hadn’t planned on saying anything. He had resolved to keep his long-kept secret. In that split second, however, something had changed. He didn’t know what it was but it made him speak his admission. The truth was out. Would he be believed?

“Tell me.”

The tone was so gentle, so caring…

Harry’s eyes flew open and to the professor. The look in the man’s eyes, the look he had seen many times this year and had been unable to identify, caused his eyes to burn and fill with tears. They spilled over out of his control.

“You-you believe me?” he choked out and even more tears fell as Snape’s dark eyes softened.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“No-no one ever h-has.”

“And I am truly sorry that you have been let down so terribly and that I am among those who have done so.”

Harry’s chest ached, both in pain and joy. “You’re the only one who hasn’t.”

Snape gave him a small, gentle smile. “You have a very large heart, child. Now, do you think you can tell me?”

Harry didn’t speak but kept his gaze on Snape. Could he really tell someone? Could he finally share his pain, his sadness, his loneliness? Could he finally have someone—an adult—to trust, to confide in, to go to for help and comfort? Could he finally have what he had wanted all his life?

The silence was long and Snape had begun to think the boy wouldn’t say anything. Then the quiet story started and Snape was horrifically enthralled. Once given the chance, it seemed the boy had to release it all. Everything, every terrible detail, came out and the sad life of Harry Potter was pieced together.

Neglect, beatings, insults, lies, emotional trauma, the cupboard, the yelling, starvation…

Snape had sat back on the sofa, a hand over his mouth in horror as the story went on and on. The boy never stopped crying as he spoke but it all seemed to be a cleanse of sorts. It was all being released. This unbearable burden was being released because he was no longer alone.

It had to have been nearly a half hour later when Harry finally stopped speaking. A depressive, heavy silence descended. With a glance at his professor, Harry slowly got out of his chair and just quietly walked into the guestroom he had once stayed in. He crawled onto the bed and rolled onto his back, staring blankly at the ceiling, tears still leaking out the corners of his eyes.

Severus' head was spinning and racing, and he couldn’t hold a single thought for more than a few seconds. He couldn’t put all he had heard into any form of coherence. It wasn’t as though this were new territory for him. It was actually quite familiar. He handled abused students of varying degrees of severity every year…in Slytherin. He never would have guessed that Harry Potter could be abused and definitely not so severely. He had fallen into the same trap as everyone else, instantly assuming the boy had a charmed life and missing all the signs the boy had tried and failed to hide.

He knew abuse could happen to anyone and he knew how to identify it.

So, how could he have let such a case slip by him?

How could they have all failed the child so badly? They had all left him alone without a single adult to turn to. They pretended they were there for the boy, but none of them were, not in the ways Potter truly needed.

In all of this, an abused Harry Potter had slid to the side and, in doing so, he had slid into the preconceived notion that he was charmed, special, and beyond needing adult help and intervention.

How careless and utterly wrong and blind they had all made themselves, and not one of them had a reason or excuse. There were none.

It was inexcusable.

He ran his hand over his face and through his hair, shaking his head sadly.

The poor child. It was a wonder Potter had survived and turned into the quiet, kind, open-hearted person he had discovered the child to be. There must’ve been a small, virtually unknown part of him that had unconsciously held onto the hope that, maybe, things would get better one day.

Severus stared at the fire with a far-away gaze. The boy had to be helped. He had to be removed from the Muggles’ care. He had to be healed, physically and mentally and emotionally. He had to be taken care of.

He pushed himself up off the sofa and walked into the guestroom. He watched the boy’s eyes track him calmly as he sat on the edge of the bed. Severus looked down at the child, unexpectedly reaching out and brushing the tears from the boy’s cheek. Their eyes remained locked.

“I’ll help you,” Severus said quietly.

“’Harry’,” the boy whispered, “and I know.”

“Harry.

Harry watched the clouds move across the sky as he leaned on the railing of the Astronomy Tower. It was a nice day considering it was only January although a cloak was still needed to block the wind. He glanced over at the Quidditch Pitch where some students were soaring through the air. He felt something urging him to get on a broom again, a feeling he hadn’t had since Ron died.

A lot seemed to have changed inside him. He felt…lighter, as though something that had been weighing him down had disappeared. Something had shifted, ever since that day with Snape. He never thought he would ever tell someone about the Dursleys but now he had, he was relieved of the burden he hadn’t even known was a burden. He supposed it also had to do with Snape and their relationship. He had things with Snape he had always wanted. He could go to Snape, he had trust in the man, Snape could and would help him…

Harry smiled to himself, watching an owl fly by into the Owlery. For the first time, he had an adult in his life. He had someone to turn to and take care of him. It was what he had always wanted though the fact that it was Snape was still somewhat shocking. Regardless, he finally had someone.

He frowned as his scar tingled then gasped as it burned with pain. As he wasn’t asleep, there was no image to go with the pain. It was rare that his scar hurt for no reason while he was awake. He needed to read more of Mulligan’s book and find out exactly what kind of trouble he could find himself in from his scar. The more he read, the more positive he became that he had a piece of Voldemort’s soul inside his scar. Even in his own head it sounded insane.

He rubbed his forehead, shaking his head as he eased the pain. He was distracted by a strange, high-pitched sound and then a black figure burst into the sky from the Forbidden Forest. He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to identify the creature but he had never seen anything like it. It was completely black with huge, thin, and boney wings. The entire body appeared skeletal. What was it and, if it lived in the Forest, how had he never seen one before?

“Magnificent, isn’t it?”

He turned his head and spotted Luna who came over to stand beside him.

“You mean the black thing?”

Luna nodded.

“Yeah, it’s amazing, but what is it?”

“It’s a Thestral. They’re commonly seen as bad omens.”

“Thestral,” Harry repeated, looking back at the still soaring creature. “What are they?”

“Very gentle creatures,” Luna said. “They have the reputation they do because of the nature of their existence.”

“What do you mean?”

“Only those who have seen death can see Thestrals.”

Draco, he thought instantly.

“So, you’ve…”

She nodded again. “My mother. An experiment gone wrong.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I miss her, but I still have Daddy. She was wonderful while I had her.”

Harry gave her a small smile.

“You two will have a wonderful life.”

He looked at her, but didn’t question it. She knew what she was talking about and he would learn.

“Someone’s hurt,” she said suddenly and his gaze flew to the grounds. He just managed to spot familiar blonde hair disappear into the castle.