Harry still had his fingers clenched tightly in Snape’s robes. He had a white-knuckle grip on the black material, and nothing was going to force him to let go. Snape had carried him outside and they had Apparated somewhere, but Harry was too distracted by pain to try to figure out where. Snape shifted Harry’s weight against him and Harry cried out as the movement jarred his knee. It had been a gentle change of position, but to Harry it had felt almost like a blow from a sledgehammer. There was a mumbled apology from Snape, which Harry did not notice.
He twisted his grip on the material of Snape’s robes as he felt his weight shifting once more, afraid that this movement was going to hurt. Snape eased Harry’s body down to put him on a bed; he had to lower his own body as well because Harry still had a tight grip on his robes. He set the boy down on the bed as carefully as he could manage and did not move to stand upright just yet as Harry still had a hold of him.
“Potter, release my robes.” Snape looked down at the boy’s face, which was inches away from his own. The boy made no move to obey the request. Snape could see in Potter’s expression that the boy was in quite a bit of pain, which made his own discomfort from the awkward position seem minor.
“I can’t,” Harry murmured. “My hands won’t move.”
Snape groaned inwardly. “Potter, relax your fingers and let go.”
Harry’s breath stopped in his throat. “I can’t.”
Snape moved his own hands to one of Harry’s and gently peeled it off of his robes. He repeated the process with the other hand, and placed the boy’s hands at his sides.
Harry watched through pain-glazed eyes as Snape quickly turned from him and left the room. Only a few moments had passed before Snape returned, and Harry found that he was relieved to see the man again as Snape closed the door behind him and stalked over to the night stand to put down the items he was carrying. Harry had seen a few potions and a very sharp-looking knife. Without realizing what he was doing, Harry twisted his hands into the bedding beneath him.
Snape fed Harry a potion to ease his pain and another to replace any nutrients he had probably missed while in the care of his muggle relatives. Then Snape set a chair next to Harry’s bedside and waited for the painkiller to kick in before doing anything further.
Harry felt heavy, almost fatigued. He could hear the whooshing sound that the beating of his heart made in his ears: the rhythm was getting slower, calmer with each second that passed. Harry didn’t seem to mind that. He didn’t want to listen to the thudding of his heart anyway; he was trying to focus on a voice. Snape had asked him a question, and a moment later he was rambling something in reply. Harry blinked as he fought to keep his eyes open; he wasn’t finished talking to Snape yet. Snape asked him another question and again he answered with little hesitation. After what seemed like a very long time, Harry was too tired to speak to him anymore. He shut his eyes and let Snape’s voice fade to nothingness.
There was a lantern glowing softly nearby. Harry could recognize it even without his glasses. Lantern? Last time he checked the Dursleys had still used electric lighting. That meant... he wasn’t home! Harry took a moment to try and regain his bearings. He remembered being home, falling down the stairs, hurting his knee and then Snape had come to the house and took him. After that things blurred; it reminded Harry of how sometimes dreams were too fuzzy to recall after waking.
“How do you feel?” Harry nearly started at the sound of Snape’s voice; he hadn’t seen Snape enter the room. Snape crossed the room and handed Harry his glasses which had been sitting on the night stand.
His knee still ached, but not as badly as it had before. “I feel a little sore,” Harry answered.
Snape nodded. “The damage to the bones in your knee was easy to repair. It is the damage to the soft tissues that is causing you to feel discomfort. It will take longer to heal, but you should not suffer permanent damage.”
“Damage to my bones?” Harry asked softly. He hadn’t thought that he had broken anything.
“Yes. Considering the circumstances of the fall I am surprised that you did not suffer other injuries.”
“You know that I fell?”
Snape gave Harry a little smile without showing his crooked teeth. “Of course I know you fell.”
Harry didn’t remember saying anything regarding his injury to Snape, and he was fairly certain that his relatives would not have mentioned anything. “But how?”
“You told me, Potter. There were a few details missing from your story, but you explained that this fall down the stairs was an accident. How unfortunate that your cousin did not suffer a little injury as well, eh Potter?”
Had Snape just made a joke, or was he serious about that last remark? “But...”
“You don’t remember telling me. I know. That is a common side effect caused by the painkiller I gave you. Aside from loosening your tongue a little, it stifles the capacity to recall things while under it’s influence.”
Harry could feel his heart beginning to pound. What else had he said to Snape while he was drugged? He closed his eyes and tried to make himself remember, but nothing came to him. Only Snape knew whatever else he had said, and Harry had a feeling that Snape would want to keep things that way.
“Don’t fret over it, Potter. There are worse things in the world,” Snape said quietly.
Harry opened his eyes and stared at Snape. “What did I tell you?”
“Nothing that you didn’t want to get out of your system, Potter,” Snape said in a calm voice.
“That doesn’t answer my question, Sir.”
“For now it will have to do, Potter,” Snape replied evenly.
****
Later in the evening Snape entered Harry’s room. He was carrying some medical supplies with him and a small pillow. Bandages? Harry stared at Snape in confusion. What were the bandages for?
Snape smoothly seated himself on the chair at Harry’s bedside and flicked the edge of Harry’s comforter up so that he could see Harry’s wounded leg easily. Had Snape cut off his pant leg? From what Harry could see it looked like Snape had severed the material a few inches above his knee. Harry tried to sit up more so that he could see what Snape was doing, but moving around on the bed too much made his knee flare to life with pain and that quickly dampened his curiosity.
“Your knee was swelling at a rather alarming rate, Potter. It was necessary to make a small incision in the swollen tissue and wrap the knee in specially-treated bandages that would draw out any excess fluid. You may have a small scar later, but it will be better than a permanent limp.”
Harry winced as Snape moved his leg to unwrap the used bandages. Snape gingerly placed Harry’s calf on the small down pillow that he had brought with him to elevate the boy’s knee and make it so that he did not have to try and hold the leg up the entire time The bandages seemed very attached to Harry’s skin, making the unwrapping process very unpleasant. He unclenched his jaw when he saw Snape pick a fresh roll of material up from the night stand. The wrapping process probably wouldn’t be so bad.
“Sir, why didn’t you just take me to Hogwarts? Madame Pomfrey could have fixed my knee and then I wouldn’t have to bother you.”
Snape said nothing. He was focused on the task at hand, and Harry gave a muffled yelp of pain. Apparently Snape was being a little too rough. “Apologies, Potter.” Snape paused the bandaging and looked at the boy’s face: tears were welling in his eyes.
“It’s okay,” Harry lied as he removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes.
Perhaps, Snape thought, I should have given Potter something for the pain before I started this task. It was a bit late for that now, though, so Snape made a conscious effort to be more gentle as he continued the bandaging.
Having recovered somewhat, Harry took in a deep breath. “Sir, I don’t understand why Professor Dumbledore sent me home and then had you come back for me so soon.”
Snape grunted. “The Headmaster sent you back, however he did not send me to look in on you a second time.”
“Why did you do it then, Sir?”
“I have my reasons, Potter.” That seemed to be the end of their conversation, because Snape had finished bandaging Harry up and was standing to leave the room with a bundle of the wrappings, which were soiled with Harry’s dried blood and Snape’s potion, in a tin basin.
“Sir,” Harry called just as Snape was reaching for the door lever. Snape paused but did not turn to face Harry. “I’m glad.... I mean... thank you.”
Snape seemed to stiffen a little with his back still to the boy. He said nothing in answer and quickly exited the room.
Harry leaned back into his pillow as his knee painfully reminded him why he was in the bed in the first place.
*****
Snape was alone in his study, standing near the fireplace mantle. How long would it be before Dumbledore realized that Harry Potter had gone missing? He wondered if he should write the Headmaster a letter to let him know what had happened, because as things were right now it could look like Snape had simply snatched the boy from the frightened muggles.
Sitting down at his desk Snape took the cap from his inkwell and took his quill in hand. A fresh piece of parchment was sitting on his desk waiting to be used. Snape dipped the tip of the quill into the ink and held it near the paper as he thought about what to write. A drop of ink dripped onto his paper and he scowled at it.
Snape groaned aloud he was fresh out of ideas. No matter how he tried to phrase this, in his mind it still seemed like flimsy protection from charges of kidnaping. He put his quill back in its place and replaced the cap on his inkwell. Snape stood to pace near the warmth of the fireplace. He needed time to think about this.
Dumbledore would understand the reason for his actions, right? As far as Snape knew the Headmaster still trusted him, so perhaps all he really needed to do was explain the circumstances of things and then let the Headmaster know where he stood.
Feeling slightly more encouraged Snape sat down to write again.
****
Harry groaned aloud and bit down hard on his lip. His knee was aching badly now. He wanted to try to sleep the pain off, but in order to do that he had to be able to fall asleep. Right now that was not going to be remotely possible. No . . . the pain was too much of a distraction to be able to fall asleep.
He tried to think of pleasant things to distract him from his knee, but nothing worked. Everything turned into the stabbing pain that drummed up and down his leg like someone laying into him with a baseball bat. Harry breathed through his teeth as he felt tears building up from behind his eyes. Why did everything seem to hurt more at night?
Harry reached under his shirt with an unsteady hand for his moon tear. He clenched it tightly in his fist until his hand began to hurt, but that provided no relief. When he could stand it no longer, Harry let loose sobs of agony, but behind the closed door he was sure that no one would hear.
****
Snape had not written down a single word on his piece of parchment. Not one bloody word. He had sat for a long time thinking about what to write, but nothing had sounded right in his head. It would sound even worse on paper if it hadn’t had a chance in his thoughts. Snape was now dozing at his desk, with his quill still in hand. The ink on the quill had dried a while ago, but there were a few small marks on Snape’s other hand where he had accidentally drawn on himself as he dozed.
Suddenly, as if someone had shaken him awake, Snape snapped alert. Something wasn’t right. Perhaps he still felt rattled because the situation with Dumbledore was not resolved yet. No: as Snape thought about it, he knew that he would have to explain this to Dumbledore in person. A letter wouldn’t do the job properly. So if that was not the problem, then what was the matter?
Potter? He had not checked on the boy since he had changed his bandages. Snape tossed his quill onto the parchment on his desk and stormed out of the study toward Potter’s chamber.
****
Snape halted at the door to the boy’s room and listened for noises from within. At first he didn’t hear anything. Wait . . . was that crying? Quietly Snape opened the door and entered the room which was still lit by the glow of a lantern.
“Potter?” Snape couldn’t see the boy’s face. Harry had taken the pillow that had been under his head and was holding it over his face, perhaps in an attempt to block things out. Snape watched as the boy’s hands clenched very tightly onto the pillow case. In one hand Snape caught a glimpse of blue and silver.
Snape reached into his robes for a potion to quiet the boy. He had forgotten to consider that Potter would still be in pain for a while. Snape bitterly thought that that was one of the reasons why he was not a medi-wizard; he really had a terrible bedside manner and the boy had suffered for that.
Snape was beginning to question his decision to keep the boy here. Perhaps it would have been better to leave him with Madame Pomfrey after all; she would not have allowed the boy to suffer like he had. He pushed away the thoughts of his own inadequacies and focused on trying to coax Potter to calm enough to be able to take a potion without choking on it.
“Come now, Potter. It will not do to smother yourself with that pillow.” Snape sat on the edge of the bed and gently pulled at the corner of the pillow that Harry was clutching fiercely.
Harry mumbled something from behind the pillow. Snape could hear the hitching in the boy’s muffled voice, but what he was saying was not understandable at all. When Snape tugged at the pillow again, it was clear that Harry had no intention of letting go of either the pillow or of the moon tear that was pinned between the fabric of the pillow and Harry’s hand.
Snape put the potion back into his robes and withdrew his wand instead. Quietly he stood from the bed and aimed his wand at the boy. In a soft voice he murmured an incantation and watched in silence as the tension left Harry’s body in a swift rush. From behind the pillow Snape thought that he had heard a muffled sigh.
Carefully Snape removed Harry’s hands from his pillow and placed it back in its place under his head. He took the moon tear and placed it on the night stand, and then removed Harry’s glasses and placed them next to the now clear blue moon tear. The boy was asleep now. Snape gently adjusted the rumpled covers over Harry’s body and left the room.
******
Snape was not at all surprised by the letter that he received the morning after he had taken Harry Potter from his Muggle relatives. In return for the neat roll of thick parchment; Snape offered the owl something to eat. It took the food in its sharp beak and flew. Did the owl belong to Dumbledore? Maybe, but it did have ties to Hogwarts; Snape felt sure of that.
Easily Snape broke the magic that sealed his letter and uncurled the parchment; holding the ends of the paper taut and in silence, Snape began to read.
Severus,
It has come to my attention, my dear boy, that you have taken Harry Potter from the safety of his muggle residence. I believe that you hold only the best intentions for the boy, but perhaps you have not thought out the consequences of your actions.
I expect to speak with you shortly.
Kindest regards,
A. Dumbledore
Snape felt the once smooth curls of parchment crumpling in his hands as he crushed the letter with his fingers. Surely the Headmaster knew why he had taken the boy from his so called home. How could he be expected to stand by idly when he knew that Potter was being mistreated? It was true that Snape felt a little fear was good for children. The right amount of fear ensured obedience, but the thought of Potter quailing and quivering in fear made Snape’s lip curl with disgust.
Harry was still asleep when Snape checked on him after he’d read his letter from the Headmaster. The spell that Snape had cast over Potter should have worn off a while ago, but since the boy was still in a quiet sleep Snape figured that he probably just needed the rest. Snape would allow Potter to sleep awhile longer, and then he would need to wake him up to be sure that the boy ate something; it would not do to allow Potter to starve himself.
*****
Dumbledore sat in one of Snape’s dark, heavy leather armchairs as if he had adopted the place as his own. He was sipping a mug of hot cocoa, which had originally been a cup of bitter herbal tea when Snape had given it to him. Dumbledore had thanked him for the tea and gave it a little taste. He smiled politely and waved his wand over the cup to change the liquid inside to something more palatable.
Snape was rigidly poised in his own armchair across the room from Dumbledore. He had barely touched his own tea: from his posture it almost seemed that he was ill at ease in his own home. He did not ask what Dumbledore had done to the tea he had offered him; Snape didn’t care. As far as he was concerned Dumbledore could transfigure the tea into malt liquor and it would not have made any difference.
“I trust that you understand the reason behind my visit today.” Dumbledore took a long drink of his chocolate before looking up for Snape’s answer. Snape nodded once.
“How is Harry, Severus?”
Snape was a little surprised at himself when he narrowed his eyes at Dumbledore for asking a simple question. He forced himself to try and relax. “At the moment Potter is resting.”
The headmaster smiled. “We’ll talk quickly then so that we will not disturb his rest.”
When several seconds of silence passed Snape realized that Dumbledore was waiting for him to say something in reply. “Of course, Headmaster.”
“Do you recall my original order concerning Mister Potter, Severus?”
As he tried to recall the original instructions Snape wrinkled his brow; it had been several weeks since he had been asked to look in on Potter.
“Now then, Severus,” Dumbledore began in a kind tone. “With my original order in mind, why did you take it upon yourself to remove the boy from the protection of his home?”
Before he had time to give it a second thought Snape took a swig of his bitter tea. He grimaced as it went down like a solid lump in his throat. The more he thought about it, the more it tasted like he was drinking hot leaves and bits of dust; although honestly that was not very far from the truth. He watched as Dumbledore was still sipping sweet hot chocolate with ease. Snape wasn’t changing what he had made for himself; instead he put the cup down on the small side table near his chair and pushed it as far away as he could without being too obvious.
“I thought that it was in the boy’s best interests to leave his relatives, considering his condition when I arrived at his residence.”
“Please go on, Severus,” Dumbledore suggested with a wave of his hand as he drank more cocoa. He must’ve charmed the cup when he changed the drink inside because Dumbledore could have easily drank down two cups full the way he was going at it right now.
Snape recalled how Potter had looked when he had first taken him from the muggles. How was he to put this and still sound as though he had remained unattached?
“When I arrived at Potter’s *home*, I discovered that he had been injured, and in spite of the fact that I am not a medi-wizard I thought it best if the boy received at least some care for his condition. I took him because it was the only thing to do, in my opinion, to protect the boy from further harm-- whatever the cause may be.”
Dumbledore made a little hmm noise in answer, but he did not seem concerned in the slightest. *Perhaps if he had seen the boy last night his attitude would be quite different,* Snape thought bitterly.
With a deep sigh Snape released his brooding irritation. “The boy refused to tell me everything, but what he has told me is enough to warrant, at least in my opinion, that he not be sent back to those muggles. Blood relatives or not, they are not the protection that he needs.” He wanted to add that should Dumbledore force Harry to go back to the muggles anyway he should at least allow Snape to hex them beforehand. Nothing too dramatic. A simple sympathy pain spell would do the trick: even if it only lasted a few days it would teach the muggles fairly quickly. Whatever damage was inflicted onto Potter would be reflected on the one who had caused it, so should Vernon decide to allow his hand to fly on its own accord once more Potter would not be the only one sporting the black eye.
There were things that the spell would not be able to help though. The emotional thrashing that Potter suffered through would be allowed to continue and perhaps after the curse it would become even worse. No, that could not be condoned anymore; not even for blood protection.
“What do you suggest that we do for Mr Potter if he is not to be returned to his family, Severus?”
Snape shook his head. “I don’t know, but I do know that if you send him back there things will only grow worse for him.”
Dumbledore smiled as though all Snape had said was about sunshine and roses. “Thank you for the drink, Severus. If you cannot find a suitable substitute to care for Harry I am afraid you will be forced to return him to his home once again. One cannot choose one’s family Severus, and they are the only family he has.”
He stood to bid the Headmaster farewell. Snape frowned as Dumbledore’s last words played over and over again in his head. Family! Family indeed! He could do a better job looking after Potter than Potter’s family had ever done! When the realization hit him, he had to sit down once more to regain his composure. What was he thinking? What would Potter think when he found out?