Dumbledore looked to Snape with his eyes glittering irritatingly. Snape stared at the man impassively as he sat in front of the older wizard’s desk in a squishy armchair. Snape was sure that whatever Dumbledore had called him for was not going to be something that he was going to like. It was the middle of a perfectly good night that could have been used for sleeping, but instead he had been summoned to the Headmaster’s office for some reason.

“Severus, my dear boy. Would you care for a Chick-O-Stick?”

“Pardon Sir?”

“It’s a muggle treat, Severus. I find it to be quite tasty.”

Snape’s eyebrow went up. Muggle candy? He wasn’t even going to touch that. He didn’t even bother with the wizard version of candy, so he had no idea why Dumbledore always offered him something. Candy, even wizard candy was good for one purpose alone, and that was shutting up bratty children. He watched with a sneer as Dumbledore took a stick of unnaturally orange colored candy and bit into it with enthusiasm. Little splinters of candy fell onto Dumbledore’s dark blue robes and to the floor beneath his desk. Snape tried not to focus on the older wizard’s obnoxious crunching. It was a wonder that the Headmaster had any teeth for crunching with the way he consumed sweets. He was worse than a small child.

Once Dumbledore had finally finished munching on his stick of candy he brushed crumbs from his beard and from his robes. “Now then Severus, I have an important task for you.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The night was still. It might have been unnerving had there been anyone outside to observe the atmosphere. The stillness was broken by the sound of a loud POP, and a figure dressed completely in black robes appeared out of thin air.

Snape walked briskly towards the house on Privet Drive. The sooner he got there and saw that things were in order the sooner he could leave. Then he could focus on important things, like sleep, lesson plans for the next term, potion ingredient stocks and other matters.

Snape sneered at the unruly lawn in front of the number four house, it hadn’t been cut for some time by the looks of the tall grass. He noted that as he made his way down the walkway to the front door that all the asinine little flowers that had once been growing there were shriveled to stalks that would eventually turn into powder. Apparently someone had been neglecting the grounds keeping.

Just as he was about to charm the door to open he discovered that the muggles had left it unlocked. In a smooth motion Severus opened the door and entered the house. He frowned as a strange scent hit his nose. The place smelled stale, as if noone had let in fresh air for quite some time. Snape lit his wand with a charm. A cursory glance around showed that the muggles had taken most of their possessions with them. Dumbledore hadn’t mentioned anything about the muggles moving to a new residence. What in Merlin’s name was going on here?

He stalked through the house and up the stairs to search for Potter’s bedroom. He growled as empty rooms were all that he found. Well, perhaps that would make sense. If the muggles left they should have taken Potter with them. He was their kin after all.

As he descended down the stairway once more his nose caught a new scent. Snape’s face screwed up with displeasure. That was... How in the world had he not smelled that when he first entered? He followed the foul smell down the stairway, and discovered that his nose was leading him toward a small storage cupboard. The little vent to the cupboard had been closed, and the door was latched shut. He undid the latch, turned his face away to take in a deep breath of cleaner air and flung open the small door.

The first thing Snape caught sight of when he looked into the cupboard was a red plastic bucket in the corner. Surely it was meant for muggle cleaning methods, but it seemed that it had been used as a makeshift toilet. That explained the horrible stench. It was filled beyond capacity, and there was a wet ring surrounding the bucket. Snape narrowed his eyes and looked away from the disgusting bucket. He noted that there was a plastic water pitcher and a white glass plate sitting in the corner near where Snape was standing. The pitcher was bone dry, and the plate had been cleaned so that there weren’t any crumbs left to tell what had been sitting on it at one time.

A small movement in the far corner jolted Snape to attention. He’d spotted the dirty forest green shirt in the corner, but ignored it because it was only soiled laundry. Now he could see a small toe just peeking out from the hem of the muggle shirt. The boy was curled up on himself almost like a kitten. The muggle shirt he was wearing was large enough to hide his whole body from sight while he had his back to Snape.

Snape let out the breath he had been holding and stepped back to take another. He squatted down so that he would not hit his head on the low ceiling and ducked into the small space to grab the boy. He noticed a bag of nearly empty dog kibble as he reached for Potter’s small body. “Lucky Boy” dog meal, so that explained what the child had eaten when his rations had run out, but what had he drank? There was nothing in the cupboard that the child would have gotten any use of. Obviously he was intelligent enough to leave the cleaning liquids alone that had been left in the cupboard with him. The options were limited for a child so small to survive severe dehydration, but the boy lived.

A few kibbles of dog chow crunched under Snape’s boots as he shifted his weight. He leaned forward, grabbed one of Potter’s arms and gently pulled the boy back to him. He felt the little body tense in his hands as Snape lifted him from the floor and backed out of the cupboard. He cradled the little boy to his chest and was surprised to feel small hands pressing against him. The boy was trying to push him away.

Potter was weak as well as being small so his efforts to escape Snape’s hands were in vain. Snape shifted his hands so that he would not lose his grip if the boy really tried to fight him. With the child safely in tow Snape left the house, not bothering to close the door behind him.

Once Snape had made it to Hogwarts by portkey he headed for the hospital wing. He deposited the filthy boy on a clean bed, snapped at Poppy to tend to him and then left to clean himself up. After holding Potter Snape felt like he had been through a romp in a sewage drain.

Snape was sitting in his quarters, intent on fixing himself a stiff drink, when Dumbledore called for him through the fireplace. “Severus, I wish to speak to you. Please come to my office.”

Snape didn’t even get the chance to protest the request before Dumbledore ended the call. His stiff drink was just going to have to wait. So with a frown he left his room to go to the Headmaster’s office.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry watched with leery eyes as a strange lady approached him. Where in the world was he? This certainly wasn’t his uncle’s house, and this wasn’t his cupboard. He wasn’t supposed to leave the cupboard. The only reason he had tried to get out was to get a drink of water, but the door was locked and it hadn’t done him any good to make the attempt.

The lady was pointing something at him... some kind of a stick. She was talking in funny words, words that Harry didn’t understand. What he did understand was that this was all very weird. Maybe he was just dreaming. So all he had to do to make things go away was wake up. The little boy closed his eyes tight and thought to himself very hard: wake up!

Harry felt his body tense when his right hand was lifted from his side. He opened his eyes. The lady was looking at his hands! She was going to know that he had tried to get out of the cupboard, and Harry was sure that she would tell his relatives about that! He tried to pull his hand away from her, but her grip on him wasn’t lax enough. Finally she let him go and she walked away. Harry didn’t know where she was going, and he didn’t care. All he knew was that he had to get back to the cupboard before his Uncle came home and found out that he was no longer there.

Harry tried to push himself up onto his elbows so he could swing his feet over the edge of the bed and stand, but he was so weak! He licked at his dry lips and rolled onto his side. It turned out that rolling was much easier on him than trying to push up onto his elbows so he proceeded to roll out of the infirmary bed and onto the hard floor below. Harry hissed in discomfort as his elbows and knees protested the sudden impact from his deliberate fall. He lay there for a second to let his limbs recover and then he tried to get to his hands and knees.

The little boy froze when he heard the lady come back into the room. She was humming a cheery tune to herself, and he could hear her pushing a cart of supplies in his direction. Harry winced when she stopped humming; it would only be a matter of moments before she saw him lying there on the floor and ruined things.

“Oh dear. Did you fall off the bed?” Poppy asked gently as she went round the bed and knelt to lift the boy and put him back in his place. Harry just stared at her blankly. She gently set him down and tucked the sheets around him snugly, leaving his arms free, so that he wouldn’t fall from the bed so easily next time. “There we are. That’s much better.”

Harry didn’t say anything, but looked at the items she had pushed over on the cart with her. She’d brought a pitcher of clear cold water, and a bunch of other things that Harry found he wasn’t interested in at all.

“Now then, Harry, we’re going to have to take things slow,” she said as she poured a small amount of water into a tumbler and helped Harry to sit up so that he could drink without choking. “Small sips.”

Harry tried to reach for the cup to pull it from her grasp, but she insisted on holding it so that he could only take in the tiniest bit of water before she pulled it back away from his lips. Harry let loose a sharp whine of protest. He was bloody thirsty! It seemed like it had been so long since he’d had real water to drink! He wanted to grab that full pitcher of water and gulp as much as his little stomach would hold. He shuddered as his stomach rolled suddenly. He knew that feeling... he was going to be sick all over the nice bed!

Harry felt his stomach bunch as he heaved, but nothing came up. The bed was safe! Maybe it was because he hadn’t eaten much recently. It wasn’t much fun to eat when all it did was make him thirsty. Then he had to wait until a certain time to be able to drink at all, and even when he did drink it was only because he had to. He certainly hadn’t enjoyed it, but he didn’t like to think about that.

The lady talked to him in a quiet voice, and asked him to open his mouth. Harry shook his head. He wasn’t stupid, he knew better than to try drinking so soon after his tummy wasn’t well. “Come now, this will make you feel much better,” she coaxed.

Harry let her feed him what he could only assume was medicine. He began to relax as he felt his stomach beginning to settle down. “Better?” Harry responded with a weak nod. She fed him another potion, and this one made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. “That will help you get some strength back. Do you feel well enough to try some more water?”

Harry shrugged. If she was going to offer him a drink he wasn’t going to refuse it.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Snape entered Dumbledore’s office and was seated at the Headmaster’s request. He refused a mug of hot chocolate when Dumbledore offered him some and waited for the man to get on with things.

“Thank you for coming, Severus,” Dumbledore said softy. As if Snape had had any choice in the matter. “I’m sure you know why I called you here tonight.”

Snape waited. “I assume that this has something to do with Potter.”

Dumbledore smiled. “Indeed it does, my boy.”

Snape shifted in his seat and played with his robes for a moment. He had an awful feeling about this.

“Harry was alone when you found him?”

“Yes, I saw no sign of the muggles. The boy had been locked in a cupboard, and was left with noone to care for him. At one time there had been some rations given to the boy, but when I found him I can only assume that he was surviving on food meant for a dog. I can only imagine what the boy was doing to prevent death from dehydration,” Snape said coldly.

“Ah yes. It is fortunate for Harry that you came along when you did.”

Snape narrowed his gaze at Dumbledore. The elder wizard looked remarkably calm in spite of everything that Snape had just said. Did it not matter to the man that the boy had been in danger of losing his life? From what Snape could discern there was not even a flicker of remorse in Dumbledore’s tone or in his eyes. The man was a blank, unreadable smile with twinkling eyes. Whatever that meant it couldn’t have been something pleasant.

“Now then I must come to the point. Poppy has agreed to stay on school grounds until Harry has gotten a bit stronger, but when he is well enough she must leave.”

What? She was going to leave? Where was she going to go? What in Merlin’s name did she have to do outside of Hogwarts?

“I assure you, Severus, that she would not leave if her business were not very important.”

“May I ask what this important matter is about?” Snape tried to keep the annoyance from showing in his voice.

“It is of a personal nature I’m afraid, and I must respect her wishes to keep it as such.”

Snape breathed out a heavy sigh that resembled a growl. “Very well. What does this have to do with me then?”

“I need you to look after Harry while Poppy is away.”

Snape looked down at the floor for a second and then stood up to walk out of the room.

“Severus,” Dumbledore called, and Snape stopped with his back to the man.

“You ask too much of me, Sir,” Snape said quietly.

“I would not ask this of you if I did not require your help.”

Snape nodded out of obligation in spite of his feelings that Dumbledore would have pawned this boy off on him no matter what.

Harry had accepted all the strange liquids that the funny lady had told him to drink. Some of them tasted pretty gross, but he had had worse things before. She offered him one more potion. This one, she told him, that it was important that he finish it all. She held it in front of his lips and helped him to sit up. He reached for the cup to take it from her and try to finish this one on his own. He could handle a cup full of liquid by himself after all; he might have been a little boy, but he wasn’t a baby.

Madame Pomfrey held the cup just out of his reach and gently chided him. “Let me do the work, Harry. You need to save what little strength you have left in you so you can get better.”

Harry was about to ask her how she had known his name, because he was sure that he hadn’t told her anything about himself, but he didn’t say anything. She’d probably just snap at him to shut it like Aunt Petunia always had, so what was the point? He swallowed the potion without protesting. Something about what she had said was bothering him. She said he needed to get better, but Harry hadn’t realized that he was sick. The only reason that his stomach had gotten upset in his mind was because he had gotten so excited over clean water.

The small boy yawned as a sudden wave of sleepiness overcame him. He listened to Madame Pomfrey as she hummed something a bit gentler than the tune he’d heard earlier. Perhaps it was a lullaby, but he couldn’t be sure since he’d never had one sung to him before in his life. His limbs felt more like they had heavy stones beneath his skin than bones. For a brief period Harry fought to keep his eyes open, but he let them fall closed when they too felt like they had been heavily weighted. The last thing he remembered was something warm and wet lapping away gently at his raw fingertips.

****

After Snape had finished with Dumbledore, he had gone to his quarters. He’d fully intended to fix himself that stiff drink now, but something gnawed away at him. This whole situation was giving him a nasty headache. Snape pinched the bridge of his nose hard for a moment and then went to his personal stock of potions to find something to cure himself. He opened his little cupboard and found every healing potion except for the one that he wanted. He cursed under his breath and thought about brewing something from scratch. How had his stocks gotten so low in the first place? He slammed the cupboard door shut with a scowl. Finally Snape decided that he hadn’t the patience to brew a potion for himself fresh. Surely Madame Pomfrey would lend him a dose.

Snape entered the medical ward without a sound. Madame Pomfrey didn’t look up at him as she tended to Potter, but Snape had a feeling that she knew he was there. Without so much as scuffing his boots on the floor Snape drew closer to them.

“He’s lucky that you found him when you did, Severus,” Madame Pomfrey said quietly as she gently applied a creamy looking slave to each one of Potter’s tiny, clean fingertips.

Snape recalled the mess of a boy that he’d brought to Pomfrey only a short while ago. The boy was still sickly looking, but he was clean. Snape could smell the lavender coming from the boy’s pale skin, and the disgusting rat’s nest of black hair looked better as well. His hair was still as wild as ever on his small head, but at least he didn’t look like he was going to spread lice around the school grounds. The muggle shirt was gone now too. In its place Potter had been dressed in dark purple robes made from a velvety material. The little crescent moons that decorated the clothing were a subtle luminescent silver instead of looking like cheap tinsel from a muggle holiday decoration.

Snape noted the lax expression on Potter’s face as he slept. The boy drew in calm, regular breaths even while Madame Pomfrey worked on his hands. Snape would have expected the boy to be rather sore and pain normally woke anyone up out of a natural sleep. “You’ve drugged him?”

Pomfrey didn’t even look up as she started to bandage Harry’s hands to protect them from further injury. “Only a mild calming potion. His body did the rest. It is best for him to sleep and recover his strength.”

“Indeed,” Snape said quietly. “When he wakes, inform me.”

“All right. If that’s what you would like.”

“It is,” he replied tersely before turning away from her in a swish of robes. Snape hadn’t asked her for a potion, even though that had been the reason for his trip to the ward. This entire situation seemed to have him all out of sorts. Perhaps a few hours of sleep would cure his headache; he’d have ample time with the boy out like he was. Snape ignored the thudding sensation in his head and went to his room.

******

When Harry woke he fully expected to be back in the cupboard at home. He’d had the weirdest dream! All about being fed medicine, of a soft bed, a lady humming to him softly and a grim figure dressed in black clothes. Wait... he was still in the bed from his dream? Harry blinked as he stared at his hands. Someone had bandaged him up nicely.

With his awkward little hands he flicked aside the blanket that had been covering him and saw that he was... wearing a purple dress covered in little silver moons. Where in the heck were his real clothes? He couldn’t go home wearing this!

Harry glanced around for his shirt. It wasn’t anywhere in sight. Uncle Vernon would be very cross with him if he found out that Harry had misplaced it. Harry carefully leaned over the side of the bed to look beneath it to see if perhaps his shirt had fallen on the floor. Nope, just a clean floor. Harry blew out a frustrated sigh. That had been his best shirt too!

Madame Pomfrey walked into the room and smiled at Harry; he smiled back, but only to be polite. He wasn’t happy at all right now. She crossed over to him and palmed his forehead to feel for signs of a fever, and when she seemed satisfied that Harry was all right she sat on the bed beside him. Harry stared at a moon on his robes and then looked up at Pomfrey.

“Why am I dressed like this?” He tried to pinch a bit of the soft fabric between his hand and show it to her for emphasis, but it was too difficult with his hands all wrapped up like they were in white winter mittens.

“I thought you should like something that fit you and was clean,” she answered quietly.

“But I’m not a girl!” Harry exclaimed.

Madame Pomfrey nearly burst out laughing. “Why I know that, Dear.”

“Doesn’t look like it to me. Boys don’t usually wear dresses.”

“Harry, that is not a dress. Those are robes. Fine robes for a young wizard.”

“I’m not a wizard. I’m just Harry. Can I have my shirt back now?”

Harry frowned when she looked away from him. “I’m afraid that I don’t have it.”

He felt his chest tighten. He was going to be in so much trouble later! “But... but that was mine! What did you do with it?”

“Don’t get upset, Harry,” she said calmly. “I’m sure you can get another shirt. A better one even.”

No! She wasn’t getting off that easily. He wouldn’t be soothed with empty promises. “I don’t want another shirt! I want the one my family gave to me! I want it back! If they find out I’ve lost it...” Harry trailed off and flexed his sore fingers in his bandages. With his hands bound like they were it wasn’t possible to make tight fists like he wanted to.

Harry stiffened as he spotted a dark silhouette in the doorway. He watched in silence as the figure came closer. He swallowed self-consciously when dark eyes scanned him up and down. “Finished with your little fit, Potter?”

Harry didn’t think that was a question that he should answer aloud, so he stared down at his robes, focusing on one of the pretty moons.

“I would think that you would be glad to be rid of that poor excuse for clothing that those muggles gave to you.”

He didn’t know what in the world a muggle was, but he had a fair idea that it wasn’t something nice. He glared up at Snape, trying to force his lip to stop quivering, but he was so upset that it was not listening to him.

“Your only response is to pout?”

“I don’t care!” Harry shouted at him. “I want to go home!”

Snape scoffed at that. “You wish to go back? Potter, you may not have realized it, but those muggles left you. They left you there to die. They were not going to come back for you.”

No. They wouldn’t. They were his family. “Liar!” Harry yelled. “They wouldn’t just leave! They can’t!” He was not going to cry in front of these people. He blinked quickly as his vision filled with tears and blurred. “Uncle Vernon said that he would come back for me!”

“The muggle lied to you, boy. The sooner you realize that you’re better off without them, the easier things will become for you,” Snape said cooly.

“Don’t call him that.” Tears were slipping easily down his cheeks now, but he found that he didn’t care.

“Severus, please. It will do him no good to be so worked up about things,” Madame Pomfrey said quietly. Harry had forgotten that she was still there at his bedside.

“The boy must face the truth,” Snape replied.

“I don’t believe you!” Harry spat. His little body was shaking with anger and his chest heaved with each breath he pulled in through his mouth. Breathing through his nose didn’t seem to give him enough air at the moment.

Snape crouched down low, so that he was at eye level with Harry. He leaned in closed so that Harry could feel Snape’s warm breaths on his face. When Harry pulled back away Snape just closed in the space between them, so that all Harry could do was stare into those cold, black eyes. He felt a shiver of fear pierce through his anger for a moment as Snape glared at him. “It does not matter if you do not believe me. You will come to see things my way in time, Potter.” He glanced briefly at Madame Pomfrey and then stormed out of the room.

Harry took in great gasping breaths. Madame Pomfrey was sitting him up to rub his back, and at first he wanted to pull away from her, but she wouldn’t allow it. She murmured meaningless words to Harry to comfort him.

“It’s not true!” Harry breathed out raggedly. “They. They couldn’t just... go. I. We. We’re family.” He huddled into Pomfrey’s warm form and cried. She held him gently and told him that things would be all right, but she never mentioned his relatives and she made no comment about Snape. So... she thought Snape was right about his family too. She thought they hated him. She probably thought they were muggles too.

Why would they hate me? All I’ve ever done is tried to make them happy. To make them love me.

Madame Pomfrey had sat with him for a while until he had settled down. He was still hiccuping as he sobbed, but he was beginning to wear down. Harry watched with puffy eyes as Madame Pomfrey stood up and poured water into a glass. She helped him drink it and then settled him down into the covers.

Harry halfheartedly rubbed at his eye with his fist and yawned. He was ready to sleep again and he’d only just woken up. His last thought before slipping into sleep was that it might have been nice to have something to hold onto. Like one of the many stuffed animals Dudley had, but never let Harry touch. Yeah, that would have made it easier to rest, but he wasn’t going to mention it to anyone.

*******

With great care Harry folded each shirt and pair of trousers that Dudley had in his drawers so that it could all be packed up neatly. All of Dudley’s toys and books had been put into boxes already. Even the broken toys and the ones he didn’t like were making the trip with him. Harry wondered why Uncle Vernon told him to pack it all up for a simple vacation, but his Uncle ought to know better than he, so Harry didn’t bother asking. Maybe it was going to be a really big trip, and they needed everything to come with them.

As Harry folded a large forest green shirt, Dudley barked at him. “Don’t pack that one. I hate it.”

Harry gently set the shirt to the side and started to pack the rest of Dudley’s things. “You can keep that shirt, Potter. I won’t wear it no matter what mum says.”

As the last of the packages were carried to the car and the furniture was loaded into a truck Harry stood in the doorway and watched as he fingered the hem of his “new” shirt. He really wanted to go too. A vacation sounded like an awfully fun thing. Aunt Petunia came up behind Harry and tapped him roughly on the shoulder. “Fill this with water from the tap. Be sure you fill it all the way up, Potter.”

Harry took the plastic pitcher and went to the bathroom to fill it with water from the tub. That faucet was easiest for him to reach. Harry filled the pitcher as full as he could without it spilling over and carefully carried it out of the bathroom.

“That water goes in the cupboard,” Petunia snapped pointing a bony finger toward the cupboard that served as Harry’s bedroom.

He nodded and carried the water into the cupboard and set it down carefully on the floor. When he moved to exit Vernon blocked his path. The fat man was holding a plate of French bread... the kind with a thick crust. Harry felt his mouth start to water at the sight; he almost never got to eat bread like that, and he found that even when it was a bit stale it was better than the kind that came in a bag. Vernon thrust the plate of bread at the boy and then shoved a red bucket into the small space with him.

“Uncle?” Harry questioned with a little smile.

“Potter,” Vernon glared down at the little boy. “I’ll come back for you in a day or so. When I come back if I find that you’ve tried to get out of this cupboard, you’ll regret it.”

Harry nodded quietly. He was going to get to go on vacation too! He would have to be extra careful to do as Vernon said, so that he wouldn’t get left behind when Vernon came back to check on him. Willingly Harry stepped back from the cupboard door and glanced around at the things that had been left with him. Just a few bottles of wood oil and an open bag of dog food for when Aunt Marge would come over to stay. He didn’t flinch when the door slammed shut and the vent was closed, instead he smiled to himself. This was one of the best days of his life.

Harry knew that everyone was gone. In spite of that fact he found himself crying to be let out of his cupboard. His bread was gone and soon the water would be gone too. He knew that it was wrong to make noise at the door, but he really wanted to get out. After several moments of fruitless pleading Harry sat down with his back to the door and put his head on his knees. His stomach growled and he felt a pang of hunger stab through his middle. Gently he rubbed his tummy with his hand and glanced around the small room. He spotted the dog food and stood up immediately. How had he forgotten about that?

Harry knew that dog food wasn’t the best tasting thing in the world. He’d eaten it before just to see what it was like and found that it tasted a bit like sour dirt. But it would fill him up until Vernon came back for him, and that was all that mattered. With effort Harry dragged the bag of kibbles down from a shelf that was nearly at his eye level and stepped back as the bag fell forward. Kibbles shot out of the bag and all over the floor with little crackling noises over the hard floor. Harry watched the little brown pieces of food skittering about for a second. He lifted the bag up so that it stood by itself and started to pick up the pieces of kibble from the floor. He popped a few kibbles into his mouth and shuddered at the familiar taste. Yep, kibbles were still exactly how he remembered them...disgusting. Harry forced himself to eat until he was nearly full and then drank the last of his water. The kibbles had made him feel really thirsty, and in a way that was almost worse than being hungry. He had no idea what he was going to do without water.

About an hour later he looked at his potty bucket and wished that Vernon had given him a bigger one. He had to go pee. The little red bucket was full enough already, and Harry wasn’t about to go on the floor. If Vernon found out he’d done that Harry would be dead for sure, so he used the water pitcher to relieve himself. He looked at his partially filled water pitcher and thought for a moment. Well, drinking that probably wouldn’t kill him...but he could wait until he was really thirsty. With distaste Harry set the pitcher down and set to work on trying to get out of the cupboard once more.

******

Snape stood in the doorway, just out of the line of sight, and watched as Pomfrey had comforted the child. That’s all he was, just a little boy. Snape often forgot that even little boys had feelings. It seemed the boy’s loyalties to his relatives were severely misplaced. Snape had never expected the boy to defend the muggles who had left him to rot in a storage cupboard, and yet he had snapped at him like a little guard dog. Children were strange at times, and he supposed that Potter was no exception. Once Potter had settled down and went to sleep, Snape left without saying another word.

He’d thought about going to his quarters but what was the use in that? He needed to think perhaps he needed to get out of the school grounds for awhile. Hogsmeade might have proved slightly amusing for a short time, and perhaps that would clear his mind enough to resume his natural routine.

***

Snape stalked through the streets of Hogsmeade in a foul temper. It felt an awful lot like walking through the busy hallways of Hogwarts with the streets full of happy wizards and witches. Snape glared at the ground as he walked. In Hogsmeade he couldn’t take away points from people who were just minding their own business.

What in blazes had possessed him to come down here anyway? Blast that Potter boy for disrupting him so! Snape inhaled a deep breath and let it go slowly. He wasn’t going to lose his composure over a muggle raised little brat.

At the sound of several approaching unruly teenagers Snape quickly crossed the street. He found himself staring into the window of a toy shop. Before he could think twice about it Snape opened the door and stepped inside the store.

Near the doorway a little charmed doll nearly tripped Snape as it attempted to hug him with a squeal of glee. It wrapped its tiny arms around his ankle and hugged him happily. He glared at the little doll, and gently shook it away from his leg. He didn’t want to break it and have to pay for it. The little blonde doll in a pale blue dress tripped over a small crack in the floor and fell on her backside. She stared up at Snape with wide blue eyes and pouted. He sneered and the doll started to bawl aloud. He groaned and walked away from the thing. Snape couldn’t understand why anyone would ever want something like that doll when all it did was imitate a spoiled little girl. One could encounter children like that all day long in a career as a teacher for free, or even worse one could have a child like that of their own and actually have to live with it until maturity.

Snape wasn’t the least bit interested in anything that was able to move, make any sort of annoying sounds, light up, give a child cause to become rowdy or otherwise find a way to annoy him. He walked with a smooth gait to the back of the shop to speak to the shopkeeper.

An elderly man with gray hair and eyes that were a near perfect match to his hair looked up from the toy that he was tinkering with and smiled warmly at Snape. Snape gave him a weak smile back that could easily have been misinterpreted as a dirty look. The toy maker hopped down from the stool that he was seated on and Snape nearly winced. He could almost hear the old man’s bones creaking from the effort of bearing his own weight, which by the gaunt look of the old man could not have been much. The man hobbled over to Snape and asked if he was searching for anything in particular. Snape thought for a moment before answering, because really he hadn’t planned on stopping at a toy shop.

“I am searching for something for a muggle raised child. It is important that it not be magically enchanted. No noises or movements of any kind. You see it may upset the child. He has not been raised around magic and it tends to make him more than a bit nervous.” Snape lied with a plain expression on his face. Truthfully he couldn’t care less if magic made Potter nervous or not. He wanted a plain toy because it was less likely to cause trouble for him, and if it happened to shut Potter up that was fine as well.

The man’s face scrunched up, like shiny wrinkled leather, as he searched in his mind for the perfect toy. Snape was beginning to think that he had asked for the moon in a box. The toy maker’s face flickered with recognition. He’d remembered something. Snape watched as the man scurried through a door that was for staff only. Snape tapped his heel on the floor impatiently as he waited. He glanced around the shop. Not a speck of dust or a cobweb in sight. The old man must’ve cleaned magically, because there was no way that he would be able to climb a ladder to clean as wobbly as he was.

A few moments later the toy maker returned with a bright grin on his face. He presented a plain white box to Snape which was about the same size as a box for a decent pair of shoes. The old man opened the box and Snape peered inside. He narrowed his eyes and pulled back.

“Do you not like it, Sir?” The old man asked gently closing the box up in preparation to put it back in the stockroom.

“No, that will be more than satisfactory,” Snape replied.

He paid for the package and stowed the box under his arm. Snape made his way to the door and spied the doll in the blue dress. She was sitting at a little table, complete with a miniature tea set, playing with a little stuffed bear. She was giggling and drinking imaginary tea. She heard Snape approaching and squeaked in fright. She abandoned her tea set and toy bear for the shelter of the tiny space beneath the table. If Snape couldn’t see her then he couldn’t decide to buy her and make her miserable for the rest of her enchanted life.

Snape made a point to pause near the small table as he made for the exit. The doll was staring at his toes. For a moment the doll was afraid that he might decide to kick over her table and take her anyway, but at last he turned away. She only felt safe when she heard the bell above the door ring, once when he opened it to leave and again as the door fell shut.

***

Young Harry Potter lay in his hospital bed resting. Madame Pomfrey had allowed him to drink a little glass of pumpkin juice, which he found he liked very much in spite of the strange color, and she’d let him have a bit of chicken soup. He’d eaten and drank as much as he could and then lay back feeling full and warm inside. He settled a bandaged hand over his full stomach and wondered where the tv was. At his Uncle’s house there was always a tv on. Even when Harry was shut up in his cupboard he could hear the obnoxious chatter of the tv. He needed that noise now. It told him that things were normal, and kept him from getting into trouble if there was something really good playing.

He curled into a tight ball on the bed as soon as his stomach had settled a bit. This room was so big! Nothing like the cupboard had been. Harry wondered if the rest of the place was just as big. Would he get lost here if he left the room on his own when he felt better? Harry felt a longing for the security of his cupboard. He knew that he belonged in there, not like this big room where he wasn’t sure where he fit into the scheme of things. Why had these people taken him anyway? Didn’t they know that he had his own family?

These people were awfully strange. Vernon wouldn’t have taken to them at all, and if he knew that Harry was with them... Harry pushed that thought out of his mind. Harry looked around and noticed that the room wasn’t lit by light bulbs. There were actual torches on the walls! Harry wondered if things ever accidentally caught fire because of the lighting system.

Harry thought about getting up and leaving the ward. He wanted to get out of here and go home more than anything. What if he missed Uncle Vernon when he came to pick Harry up? Even worse, what if he had already missed him? Harry shuddered at the thought of never seeing his relatives again. He needed to prove to them that he was worth loving. He knew that with enough time and effort on his part they’d accept him as one of their own and he wouldn’t be just a worthless layabout.

Harry flung off the blanket that he had been covered with and swung his little legs over the side of the bed. He hung there for a moment and dangled his feet as he stared at his toes. The floor was probably cold. He gently lowered himself to the floor and pushed onto his feet. Harry stood quietly for a moment to gain his equilibrium. Once he felt alright he stretched his back and yawned. He blinked the tears from his eyes that had accompanied his yawn and looked towards the doorway that was in the back of the room. He’d seen Madame Pomfrey go in there a few times, so maybe that was the way out of the hospital.

Harry glanced behind him just to be sure that he was alone and then headed towards the big door. When he had made it to the heavy looking door he stared up at it. He probably wasn’t going to get it open even if it wasn’t locked. He reached up to pull on the big circular latch that served as a doorknob, and planted his feet against the floor as he prepared to put his body weight into the effort. Harry started badly when a hand rested lightly on his shoulder. He whirled about to face whoever it was and found that it was not Pomfrey, who had fed him soup and had been nice to him. It was the man in dark clothing. Snape.

Harry jerked back in surprise and roughly bumped into the door. He did not want to see this git again. The guy gave Harry the shivers. Snape regarded Harry as one would a bad cut of meat.

“What are you doing out of bed, Potter?”

Harry gulped and his eyes flitted about as he searched for an escape, but he doubted he would get far. Snape looked like he could move quickly when he wanted to. “I um. I’m sorry,” he floundered. Maybe apologizing would soften Snape up a little. That tactic never really worked well with his relatives, but Harry was willing to try it with Snape, even if the man looked inhospitable.

“As you should be, boy,” Snape said coldly as he reached out for the boy once more. Harry flinched back again, squeezing his small form to the door as if he hoped to slip through it like a curtain of smoke. Unfortunately for Harry, the door was proving itself to be a very solid barrier. Snape growled, and Harry felt his eyes get a little wider. He almost wanted to cringe into a ball against the door, but that wouldn’t save him from the evil looking man towering over him. “Stop this foolishness at once, Potter. I do not intend to do you harm.”

Harry stared at Snape, his green eyes filled with confusion. If Snape didn’t want to hurt him, then what did he want? Snape took advantage of the boy’s slight hesitation to take hold of his shoulder and gently shepherded him back to his bed.

“Sit Potter,” Snape ordered. Harry glanced backward at Snape and then looked to his bed. He noticed a plain white box sitting near the foot of the bed. Where had that come from? Was it something of Snape’s? He didn’t touch the box, instead made an effort to get up on the bed. He was a small lad, and the bed was proving to be more difficult to get on than it was to slip off of. He attempted to clutch at the sheets to hoist himself up, and felt the sheets tug backward toward him. Well, that wasn’t going to work. Now what should he do? He struggled for a few moments more before giving up completely. He was simply too small to get up on the bed on his own. He heard Snape mutter something about “utter helplessness” just loud enough so that Harry could hear, and Harry shot the man a glare. He had given it an honest effort after all.

Harry tensed as he felt Snape grip him beneath his arms and lift him to set him on the bed. Harry was surprised at how carefully Snape set him down. He’d been expecting to be tossed or roughly plopped down. Snape bent and retrieved the white box, thrusting it at Potter.

Harry stared at the box, unsure of what to do. “Take it boy.” Harry reached for the box and set it carefully on his lap, but did not open it.

“What is this?” Harry asked softly.

“That, Potter, is a gift,” Snape said rolling his eyes.

A gift? For him? Someone had actually given him something? But... who would do that? This had to be a trick. Maybe Snape was trying to butter him up and make him forget his real family. Harry almost didn’t want to see what was inside the box. His bandaged hands fumbled the lid of the box a bit as he lifted it off. He peered inside and relaxed at the sight of thick grey fuzz. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but surely this couldn’t have been a bad thing.

Gently Harry lifted the thing out of the box so that he could get a better look at it. Snape had given him a stuffed bunny? Harry felt the weight of small beads in the feet and the lower portion of the toy’s belly. The feet all had little brown suede pads sewn onto the paws of the bunny and it’s black hard nose was flocked with velvety fuzz. The long ears were sewn onto the rabbit’s head as if they were meant to stand up straight, but the soft floppy material that they were made of did not intend to stand at all. Harry gently pulled at the clear whiskers attached to the rabbit’s face as he stared at its dark eyes.

He looked up at Snape and found himself at a loss for proper words. He did manage to give the cold man a little smile. “It seems that my efforts were not a total waste of time.”

“I... um.... thank you,” Harry finally stammered.

Snape gave the boy a hard stare. “Do not get out of bed again without permission.” Harry swallowed hard and nodded. Harry watched as the man snatched up the empty box and stormed from the room.

Harry decided that he liked Madame Pomfrey very much. She was awfully nice to him. He especially liked it when she tucked him into bed at night. He liked it when she praised him for eating as much as he could, though he doubted that he’d ever finish anything that she offered him. There was always too much! He always liked to try and finish what she gave him because it seemed to make her very happy. Four days after he had come to the infirmary Madame Pomfrey decided that his hands were healed enough to take off the bandages. Harry was more than happy to see them go away; it was very difficult to function without his fingers properly working. He was glad that she never asked how they’d gotten so raw though, that he would have rather kept to himself for a while.

Snape, Harry found, was a lot less likeable. Nothing about that man, save for the fact that he had given Harry a gift, was pleasant or inviting. In fact Harry would have rather avoided seeing the man altogether if it were possible, but he insisted upon stopping by every so often to speak to Madame Pomfrey. They’d stand in the corner and talk about him like he wasn’t even sitting in the room with them. Harry just sat quietly cuddling his bunny, threading the whiskers gently through his fingers. He would shudder and look at his bunny whenever Snape would glance his way. He didn’t want Snape to think that he had been trying to listen after all.

A week had passed with Pomfrey looking after him, and Harry felt better than he had in a long while. He followed Pomfrey around, when she would let him out of bed, and asked her questions. Where were they? Was he going home soon? Would his Uncle know where to come and get him? Some questions she would answer for him and others she would sigh and change the subject by asking Harry if he would like to have something sweet to eat.

One morning after Madame Pomfrey had given Harry waffles, with whipped cream and strawberries on top, she sat down on the bed next to his and watched him eat. He smiled as he tried to fit too big of a piece of waffle into his mouth, and licked at whipped cream smeared on his face at the corners of his mouth once he’d managed to get his piece of waffle down without choking. Madame Pomfrey warned him gently that he didn’t have to cram his food in his mouth like that. She told him that he was going to choke on it. Harry took smaller bites after that, and when he felt like he was starting to get full he ate all the strawberries from the top of the waffle and made sure to get all the cream. That was his favorite part of the whole meal.

Madame Pomfrey took his plate away and then came back to sit on the bed next to him. She had a grim look on her face, and Harry could sense that something was wrong. He hugged the rabbit tighter to him and waited for her to speak.

“You’re doing much better now, Harry,” she said gently. Harry smiled back when she smiled at him. “Now that I know you’re going to be all right, I can take my leave as I was supposed to before you arrived.”

Harry felt his mouth go slack as he processed what she was telling him.

“Professor Snape will be looking after you, and I expect you to behave for him, like you have for me.”

Harry nodded in blank acceptance, he wasn’t sure if he could obey, but he would give it a go at least. “Madame Pomfrey, please don’t go,” Harry whispered as he looked up at her with wide eyes. He got up from his bed and threw his arms around her neck in a hug. He never wanted to let her go, but cooperated when she gently pried his hands loose. She bent and picked up his bunny, which he had dropped on the floor and patted Harry on the shoulder as she handed it back to him. She walked away from him, to the door that led to the way out. Harry wanted to chase after her, but he didn’t. He looked down at the floor, while he held his rabbit aloft by one long ear.

*****

“Here is your room, Potter,” Snape said gruffly.

He had taken Harry from the infirmary down to a dark part of the school that almost smelled wet, like the way the laundry smelled when it was left in the washing machine too long. They had traveled down a long staircase and walked through several corridors before Snape finally decided to stop. He pointed to a door a ways away from Harry’s room. “That is my lab, you are not permitted to go in there unless I say so,” Snape said. Harry only nodded miserably. He pointed to the door that was across from Harry’s room. “That is my room. You may disturb me in the event of an emergency.” He showed Harry were the toilet was and then led him back to his room. “I will be in my room for the next several hours, Potter.”

Harry stepped into his room when Snape gave him a gentle push forward, and Harry jumped when the door suddenly slammed shut behind him. He glanced about in the gloomy room. It was chilly in here, as there were no torches lit, and Harry certainly had no idea how to light them. There was a bed in the center of the room, with the head of the bed almost touching the wall. Harry stared at the dark green drapes that were all around the bedposts, shielding the surface of the bed from his view. He’d never seen a bed quite like the one he was looking at now.

At the opposite wall was a large fireplace, which wasn’t lit. Harry wasn’t going to try and light it himself. He was afraid that he would catch the room on fire by accident. Perhaps he could just use a blanket from his bed to keep warm in the cold stone room. Harry went to the bed and peeked into the curtains. He jerked back at once. Something was in there! A man that he could see through appeared to be resting comfortably on Harry’s new bed! Stunned, Harry stumbled backward.

His feet seemed to be stuck to the stone floor, and his legs didn’t seem to want to move. All Harry had to do was make it to the door and open it, and then he could get Snape to help him. Harry stumbled to the thick wooden door and reached up for the ring to pull it open. He grabbed the heavy iron ring and pulled back with all his weight. His feet slid towards the door as he lost traction on the stone floor. He panicked as he heard a loud yawn come from behind him. The man was waking up!

Harry grunted with effort and tried once more. Nothing! He glanced backward to see the ghost slip through the drapes around the bed and float towards him. Harry frantically began to pound on the door to his room. Snape had locked him in with a ghost!

“Help!” Harry cried loudly as he jerked on the door handle in a panicky movement. Harry cried out again as the ghost started to talk to him. Harry didn’t hear a word that was said to him, and he didn’t care. He just wanted the ghost to go away! As the ghost came closer Harry glanced backward and could see a strange mark on the thing’s neck. His head had been almost completely severed from his body! Harry cringed as the ghost came to the door and slipped through it, finally leaving.

Harry trembled with fright after he released his tight grip on the door handle. He staggered away from the door and went to the bed. He had no desire to touch the bed sheets that the ghost had used as a resting place, instead he crawled beneath the bed, dragging his rabbit underneath with him.

****

Snape glanced up from his desk as he heard Nearly Headless Nick come through his wall with a tiny whoosh that most would not have heard.

“Sorry for disturbing you, Professor Snape, but the little lad in the next room,” Nick fumbled for the right words. “I’m afraid I gave him quite a scare. Perhaps you should check on him?”

Snape ground his teeth together roughly. He did not have time for this nonsense! Nick looked as though he intended to stare at Snape until he at least looked in on Potter. An annoyed Snape rose from his seat and stormed towards the door to go to Potter’s room.

****

Harry flinched when he heard his door groan loudly as it was pulled open. Perhaps the ghost had come back again? Harry curled into an even tighter ball and clutched his rabbit protectively to his chest. He clenched his eyes closed as he heard hard soles clicking on the floor, but hadn’t the ghost floated around earlier? Walking ghost or floaty one, Harry was not moving from his place beneath the bed.

****

Snape looked about for the boy, but didn’t see him. He stalked over to the bed and threw open the drapes, but no Potter. He knelt and lifted the bed skirt; Potter’s black hair glinted slightly as a bit of light shone on him.

“Potter, come out from under the bed,” Snape commanded in a gruff tone.

The boy did not move, and Snape could see as he looked closer that Potter was shaking. Snape rolled his eyes; stupid child. He crawled beneath the bed on his stomach and reached for the boy to pull him out from under the bed. As he gripped the child beneath the arms to drag him out his ears were met with a sharp cry of fear. Snape winced, but pulled the struggling boy out of his hiding place anyway. The stuffed rabbit tumbled from the boy’s hands as he tried to claw the stone to climb away from Snape. Potter cried out again for help, and he would have kept crying at the top of his lungs had Snape not clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Potter,” Snape growled. “Shut. Up.” He waited for a few seconds for the boy to realize that he was not the ghost from a few minutes ago, but there seemed to be no recognition in the boy’s eyes. Snape pulled his hand away from Harry’s lips as Harry tried to bite his fingers. “Stop that!”

Harry struggled and screamed as soon as his mouth was free. Snape was tempted to cast a binding charm on the boy, but he didn’t want to lose control of him while reaching for his wand. Snape shifted his weight on the floor and stood in spite of the boy’s efforts to escape him. Snape held Potter firmly and carried him out of the room. It had been a mistake to leave the boy alone like that.

Snape went to his own room, carrying Potter with him. The boy was kicking and twisting to be let loose, but where he would go if Snape set him free was a mystery. Snape shut his door and then took Harry over to a soft chair near the warm fireplace. He deposited the boy on the cushy chair, and Harry curled into a little ball on the surface of the soft leather. Snape watched him for a moment as Harry took in huge gulps of air from his place on the chair; the boy wasn’t going to settle down like that anytime soon.

Snape went to his desk to retrieve a calming potion for the boy. Half a dose would probably do, and if not a bit more than half probably wouldn’t hurt the boy. Snape, with potion in hand, approached the ball of little boy on his good chair. Potter flinched when Snape touched him. Snape lifted the boy up and then sat on the chair, setting the boy in his lap. He held Harry with one arm round his middle to secure his arms in case the boy decided to fight again.

Harry had his head bent low, as if he meant to touch his chin to his chest, and Snape had to force the boy to look up. He wrapped his legs around Potter’s to keep the boy in check, pulled the cork to the potion with his crooked teeth and tilted Harry’s chin up to pour the stuff into his mouth. Harry tossed his head to the side in an attempt to shrug off Snape’s firm grip, and Snape squeezed his jaws as he tried to get Harry to open his mouth. Harry resisted for a moment until the pressure started to hurt. He opened his mouth to make a cry of protest and Snape poured the potion into his mouth and then clapped his hand over the boy’s mouth.

Snape listened to the gurgling sounds that Potter made for a moment. The boy had inhaled a little of the liquid and was trying to cough it up. Snape forced the boy to swallow the rest of the potion in his mouth before he let Potter loose. Harry rasped in a fit of coughs for several seconds as his throat seized with a strange pressure. Finally, he managed a good enough cough to free up what had been troubling him and the coughs stopped. Snape felt the boy squirm in his grip for a few more moments before he felt the boy shiver and then relax. The potion was beginning to work.

Snape eased his grip on Harry, and unwrapped his legs from Harry’s since the boy had lost the will to fight. He put a hand on the boy’s damp forehead and turned Harry’s face up towards him. Harry’s green eyes were glazed over now with drugged calm instead of blind fear. Snape watched as Potter’s eyelids drooped, and felt it as the boy’s breathing steadied in his arms. Snape bent down and picked up Harry’s legs to lift him up. He cradled the small form to him for a moment and then decided to put him to bed.

Taking Harry back to his own room didn’t seem to be the wisest course of action considering what the boy had just been through. So Snape tucked Harry beneath his own thick comforter and then once he was sure that the boy would stay quiet for a few moments he left the room, leaving the door open behind him, because he didn’t intend to be gone but for a few seconds.

Snape went into Harry’s room and glanced around. He didn’t see what he was searching for on the floor. He went to the bed and flipped up the bed skirt. Hah! There it was. He reached in and gripped the rabbit by one soft ear, dragging it out and tucking it under his arm as he headed back to his quarters.

He slipped the rabbit beneath the covers, and under the boy’s right arm as the boy slept. Harry never stirred. Snape watched him for a few seconds and then went to his chair to sit near the glowing fire. This was going to be a lot more difficult than he had first expected.

Harry clutched his bunny closer to him and drew his knees up close to his body. He wasn’t cold, just used to being tightly packed in the confines of the cupboard, so being able to stretch out seemed strange to him. A strange snapping sound was coming from somewhere in the room, and Harry began to wonder if perhaps a mouse was trying to gnaw through his cupboard walls.

Harry opened his eyes at last and blinked. He could see the crackling fire in the hearth, so that was the popping sound that he had heard. It took Harry a few moments to remember where he was, and when he recalled the images of Nearly Headless Nick he snapped up from the bed at once and gave the room a quick glance over. He relaxed slightly when Nick was not present, just Snape reading a book near the fireplace.

“Really Potter, you are being ridiculous.” Harry started at the sound of the cool voice. The pale professor hadn’t even bothered to look up from the thick leather book he was reading. Harry felt his cheeks warm. Of course he was safe right now, and as long as Snape was with him he’d be safe from all the nasty surprises that Hogwarts had to offer him.

“Sir,” Harry squeaked out. He nearly shrank back under the secure folds of Snape’s thick forest green duvet when Snape looked up at him with an unblinking stare. Snape snapped his worn book shut and gave Harry his mostly undivided attention. “Why did you do it?” Harry whispered as his cheeks burned even hotter than before and his heart began to pound roughly in his ears.

“I’ve done many things in the past twenty four hours, Potter,” Snape said rolling his eyes. “You’re going to have to be a bit more specific.” Harry looked away when Snape’s hard gaze bored into him again.

“I er...” Harry paused. Snape was unsettling him, making him trip over what he had wanted to say. Harry took a shaky breath in through his nose and stared ahead at a brick in the wall that was about at Snape’s eye level. “You locked me in that room with that-” Harry stopped himself from saying the word, just thinking about it gave him the shivers all over again.

Snape growled low in his throat. “I would appreciate eye contact when you are speaking to me, Mr Potter,” Snape said in a calm voice that was just as disquieting as his glare.

Harry looked down at his rabbit and then gave it a tight hug. Snape stood from his chair, dropped the book onto the armchair with a thunk and stalked toward Harry. Harry flinched back, smashing Snape’s lovely pillows hard into the headboard as he tried to scramble back and away. Snape sat on the edge of the bed and leaned forward to reach out for the boy. Harry inched back a bit further. Snape nearly smirked at the boy’s reaction, but instead he kept his face neutral and scooted forward on the edge of the bed so that Harry had nowhere to go.

When Snape reached out for Harry again, Harry jerked back with a little whimpering sound. “Be still, Potter,” Snape ordered, and Harry froze in spite of himself. Snape felt Harry’s forehead with his cool hand. After a few seconds he reached up with his other hand and felt Harry’s cheeks. Then both hands trailed down to Harry’s small throat, where slender fingers applied gentle pressure. He commanded Harry to swallow and waited for the boy to respond. He felt him try once, and fail, but on the second try Harry succeeded with a less than comfortable swallow. He made Harry swallow twice more before finally releasing him.

Harry rubbed at his throat where Snape’s hands had left a cool, unnatural feeling. “The room was not locked, Potter,” Snape said finally.

Harry gaped at Snape. What did he mean the door wasn’t locked! Harry had tried with all his strength to open the huge door without even a bit of response. It had to have been locked. Harry was sure that he would have at least gotten a groan out of the door had it been unlocked. “But I tried to open it!” Harry exclaimed a bit louder than he would have liked to, but the memory of fighting with that door brought back all kinds of unpleasant emotions.

Snape smirked at Harry this time, and Harry shuddered at the sight. Snape’s dark eyes glinted with emotions that Harry could only guess at. “You may have attempted to open the door, but obviously you failed. That can hardly be blamed upon me, Potter.”

“But...” Harry felt fresh irritation building in him.

“You panicked, and had you thought to try pushing against the door instead of pulling it, it would have opened for you.”

No! Harry refused to believe that. He wasn’t a dunderhead! Snape had to have locked him in the room, because if he hadn’t that meant that Harry had been acting like a fool.

“You may try my door if you wish, Potter. It is exactly like your own.”

Harry glanced to the door, but made no move to get up and test it. He wasn’t going to leave Snape’s side. As long as he was with Snape, he was safe. “No,” Harry said.

“Suit yourself, boy,” Snape replied. He stood and went to the door, not bothering to invite Harry to go with him. Harry felt his tummy give a hard lurch. If Snape left him alone then the ghost might come back to get him! Harry flung the covers away, gripped his rabbit by the leg and nearly fell on his face trying to scramble out of the bed. Snape’s hand had stayed on the ring to the door, and he was watching Harry with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Wait!” Harry blurted. “I want to come with you!” He stumbled over to Snape, who glanced at the rabbit in Harry’s hand. Harry cradled Bray to him, just in case Snape decided he wanted to take the rabbit back.

“Why?” Snape asked sharply.

Harry thought for a bit, maybe Snape didn’t like to see Harry treating the gift he’d given him so roughly. “I don’t want to leave Bray here. He can come too, right?”

Snape snorted aloud. “Potter, why is it that you wish to pester me with your company?”

Harry shuffled his feet against the floor, unsure of how to answer. What did Snape want him to say? “I just... I don’t want to be left alone.” He nearly choked with his last words, and he tugged gently on Bray’s whiskers.

“Potter, you’re perfectly safe here,” Snape said cooly. He would never understand! Harry felt his face heat up again. Maybe Snape thought he was just being a little baby.

“Please, just let me come. I’ll be very good, I promise.”

Snape gave Harry a scrutinizing stare, as if he were searching Harry’s face for signs of dishonesty. Finally the grim man sighed and looked as though he had just agreed to have all his greasy hairs pulled from his head one at a time. “Very well, Potter. You may come, but if you misbehave you will not enjoy the consequences.”

Harry nodded with a little gulp. There was no way he was going to give Snape a reason to lock him up by himself.

****

Snape was hard to keep up with. He had a large stride and he didn’t seem to mind that Harry did not. Harry had to jog more than a few times just to be sure that he didn’t get left too far behind. He surely didn’t want to be stuck in some corridor alone.

Finally Snape stopped at a set of doors. Harry stood there for a second trying to catch his breath. He felt awfully winded. He followed Snape in the huge room, barely recognizing that there were books everywhere. Not even the Dursleys had that many books, but Harry wasn’t all that impressed, all he wanted was to find a place to sit down for a while.

With a weary sigh Harry plopped onto a conveniently situated couch near the bookshelf that Snape was looking over. Harry decided it was better to let Snape alone. He had that look in his eyes that Aunt Petunia always got when she wanted a new dress. Yes, Snape would be better off left to himself for quite a while.

****

“Boy! I told you not to move from that cupboard and you disobeyed me! I was going to take you with me! I surely didn’t ask that much of you to stay in the lousy cupboard for such a short time! You’re not going with me now or ever. You’ve ruined everything. You worthless little runt.”

Harry stared up into his Uncle’s angry red face. The big man had a little trail of spittle growing from his bottom lip all the way to the end of his many chins. Harry tried to look away from it, but decided that while Vernon was so upset, looking away from him wasn’t the wisest of plans. The thin trail of drool swung gently in the air as Vernon shook and continued to yell things that Harry could no longer absorb. He picked up a word here and there, but that was all. The spit finally disconnected and dropped to the floor like a drop of thick dew. Harry nearly sagged with relief, because as soon as that had happened his Uncle was calming. He had finished his rant.

Perhaps now he would show mercy and let Harry come along on the vacation with him. As Vernon turned away from Harry toward the front door Harry trailed after him quietly. Vernon whirled on him like an angry snake. “You are not coming with me. Was I not clear enough the first time, Potter?” Harry shivered at the calm in Vernon’s normally roaring tone. This was something dangerous indeed. The little boy stepped back, and Vernon shook his head. “Back where you belong.” He pointed to the open cupboard.

Harry shuffled his feet for a moment and then moved toward the cupboard. He turned back to Vernon. “Uncle, Please,” Harry stammered. Vernon pointed fat finger to Harry’s prison and Harry backed into it obediently. He started badly when the door slammed shut near his nose and the vent closed. The door was locked. He wasn’t going anywhere with Uncle Vernon now or ever.

****

Harry woke with a jerk of small limbs. He shivered as the sweat covering his body sent a chill through him. He curled into a tight ball, hugging Bray tightly to him, as he took in shuddering breaths. So he had had a nightmare in the middle of the day. Harry hadn’t realized that was even possible since he didn’t often get the chance to nap in the daylight hours.

He glanced at the bookshelf that Snape had been looking through the last Harry remembered. Snape was gone! Why had he drifted off and let Snape go! Harry nearly fell as he scrambled off of the couch. Dizziness rippled through his small body and he saw spots fleck in front of his eyes. He stumbled forward, clutching Bray, and wondered whether he should cry out for Snape or not.

Harry felt his head pound as he searched for Snape. His heart was racing inside his chest. Maybe Snape had gone all the way back to his room. If he thought that Harry could find the way back on his own, then he probably wouldn’t have thought twice about leaving the boy to fend for himself.

An icy chill swept through Harry, making his teeth chatter. It was so cold in the library that Harry was sure that he should have been able to see his breath. He rubbed his small arms with his free hand and reached for the hood of his small robes. The hood didn’t help much, but it was better than not doing anything at all. Frantically Harry searched through rows and rows of books. The tall man seemed to have abandoned him. Harry shook as another chill ripped through him. He sniffed as his nose began to drip. He swiped at the snot with his clean sleeve without flinching. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t. He’d been alone before. His joints ached dully. Everything hurt. His skin felt sensitive as though he had been sunburned. He shivered again and bit his lip to stop his teeth from chattering. A sob escaped his lips and was followed by a choking cough. He dropped to the floor and huddled into a ball to try and warm himself.

****

As Snape glanced through another book he heard an odd sound. A cry? He frowned. Last he recalled he had left the little boy napping peacefully on a soft couch. He hadn’t gone but a few shelves away, but the boy was out of his line of sight. Perhaps the child had woken.

Snape closed the book and tucked it beneath his arm, heading for the couch where he had last left Potter. His eyes narrowed as he found the couch empty. Stupid child! Wandering about like a fool! He listened hard for a moment. He caught the sound of the boy’s sobs, and followed the sound.

When he found Potter, the boy was curled in on himself shivering. Snape knelt near him and noted the sheen of sweat on the boy’s forehead, his sweat dampened clothing and the flushed pink of his cheeks. Gently he reached out and touched Potter’s face. His cool hands met with soft, hot skin. Fever.

Snape swore under his breath. The boy was ill. Comforting sick children was not one of Snape’s strong points and to make matters worse Pomfrey would not be here to help him if things turned bad. Snape let his book drop to the stone floor as he scooped up the small boy. He turned away to leave the library without glancing back. The book could wait for another time.

With young Harry Potter cradled safely in his arms, Snape rushed toward his quarters. He was thinking about what to do as he stormed toward his room. Perhaps a tepid bath to clean the boy of sweat and get him into dry clothing would be the best thing. He carried Potter into his room and gently set the boy down so that he could go into his private bath and fill the tub. As the water began to pour from the spigot Snape tested it with his hand to be sure that it wasn’t too cold. He didn’t want to put the boy into a state of shock, just cool him down a bit.

He returned to his bedroom and found that Potter was not lying on the bed where Snape had left him just seconds before. His heart sped up for the briefest of moments; he had only just left the child alone. He clenched his fists and exhaled a breath. Snape circled the bed and found Harry lying on the floor in a crumpled heap. He stripped the boy down to his skin and then carried him to the bath.

Although his eyes were closed in what appeared to be an uneasy sleep, Harry’s hands were entangled in Severus’s robes, and the last thing that he wanted to do was let go. When Snape began to lower Harry toward the water, Harry whimpered and tried to cling to Snape. He shivered as his hands were gently pried loose from dark robes and pressed to his chest.

As Snape carefully lowered Harry into the cool water Harry recoiled and tensed his body. Snape cradled the boy’s head as though he were an infant and began to scoop small amounts of water onto Harry’s head with his free hand.

Harry could hear the water all around him. He could feel it making his skin prickle as though he was being immersed in a tub of ice. Harry’s eyes snapped open suddenly and he grabbed for Snape. He clutched at Snape’s hand and struggled to put his feet beneath him. He wanted out of the water. The fever, despite the fact that he hadn’t had it long, was making him feel weaker than usual and he slipped roughly, sloshing water out of the tub and onto Snape. Harry sputtered as water flowed up into his nose, his mouth and even his ears.

Snape grit his crooked teeth and held Potter still. “Easy boy,” he said once some of his irritation had eased. He remembered the pouch of bath salt that sat on the stone floor the near the tub. He kept hold of Harry and used one hand to reach for a small amount of the enchanted salt. Instead of sprinkling the salt in the water Snape submerged his entire hand, allowing the salt to dissolve into the water while in his hand. The water turned a soft shade of blue and Snape watched as Harry relaxed almost immediately as the charmed salt made him feel warmer than he actually was.

Snape waited for several more minutes before palming Potter’s forehead to check on how the fever was doing. He felt a bit cooler to the touch. Gently Snape lifted the boy from the water and reached for a thick green towel to wrap him up in. Harry’s slight weight in his arms felt warm against his chest through the towel that was starting to become damp. Snape looked down at the boy’s face and frowned. So pale... Harry was so pale looking. Aside from the fever forcing heated color into his cheeks the little boy was a sickly shade of white. His water slicked black hair seemed to intensify the bad coloring of the boy’s face and even the rest of his body. He had no trace of any sort of tan lines from the sun. Had the boy ever really seen the sun?

Snape caught sight of the mirror as he strode to leave the bath. He snorted at his own sallow reflection, and had he not known better one would’ve thought he looked as bad off as the Potter boy.

When Harry woke several hours later he felt stuffy. He tried to sniff but his nose was too congested to allow him to draw in any air. He breathed through his mouth and looked around. He was dressed in a soft white shirt that didn’t fit him at all. The long sleeves, which had been rolled up, hit him at the elbow and the hem of the shirt reached nearly to his knees. The shirt might have belonged to Snape. Harry sat up, ignoring the vague pounding in the back of his head that threatened to become a big headache.

Harry tugged on the cartilage of his left ear and shook his head. He rubbed his ear roughly with his fist and frowned because it seemed to be hurting him from the inside. As Harry continued to bother his sore ear, he watched Snape as he slept for several moments. He dropped his hand from his red ear and reached for Bray, who was sitting on a pillow beside him, and hugged the rabbit close. A funny thought snuck through Harry’s mind; he wanted more than anything to climb into Snape’s lap and just sit with him. He was sure that would make him feel better for some reason.

Harry had seen Aunt Petunia hold Dudley when he hadn’t felt well, and it always seemed to make him feel much better. He fingered one of Bray’s long ears as he recalled several instances where Dudley had been comforted in such a way, sometimes when he didn’t even want to be held!

No one comforted Harry Potter when he cut his knees, bonked his head or just felt ill. Perhaps that was the way that things were meant to be. He was to look after himself. Harry had only been foolish enough to seek out his relatives for comfort a few times, and he had learned that he was much better off being ignored than bringing attention to himself.

Harry held Bray by the ear and pulled at his sore ear with his other hand as he breathed through his mouth. He slipped off the bed, leaving Snape’s warm bedding in a burrow like mass and padded over to the pale wizard dressed in black. Harry considered climbing into Snape’s lap and decided that it wasn’t worth risking rousing a foul temper.

With a hard pull at his ear he sat on the floor, leaning against the part of Snape’s armchair that led up to the armrest. He pulled his knees up and tucked the tails of his shirt beneath him to block the cold stone floor and tucked the front of the shirt around his legs. He hugged Bray and rested his chin on his knees with a lonesome sigh.

As Snape dozed he was vaguely aware of something warm pressing to his calf. Sleepily, he reasoned that it wasn’t hot enough to mean that his leg had caught fire so there was no real call to be upset. There was however something warm and damp seeping into his robes and that was not normal at all. Snape opened his black eyes and blinked before reaching up to clear away the grit that had gathered in the corners of his eyes. He stifled a yawn and glanced down to see what was making his leg feel so odd.

There leaning against his leg with an open mouth was a sleeping Harry. Snape glared at the clear trail of drool that was seeping from Potter’s mouth and led all the way to the pool on Snape’s pants. He groaned to himself. Why in Merlin’s name was the boy sleeping on the floor instead of the bed? Was that a crust around the boy’s nose that had a trail all the way to his lips?

Harry shifted slightly to reach up and scratch at his ear. When his hand pulled away Snape could see that it was bright red, and he could easily see the scratches that Harry had made that had broken through the skin.

Snape bent down and grabbed the boy beneath his shoulders, pulling him up so that he fit into Snape’s lap. Harry moaned and tried unsuccessfully to breathe air through his stuffy nose. Snape rose as he brought Potter’s body in close, holding him securely to his chest. He set the boy on the bed and placed the pillows from the head of the bed on either side of the edges to keep Harry from rolling off the bed and onto his head. Snape entered the lavatory, filled a pitcher with warm water and placed a few soft rags in a clean basin. From his cupboard above the sink Snape gathered several jars, each with a different purpose and set them in the dry basin. He carried the pitcher of water in one hand and the basin with the other as he balanced it on his hip.

He set the items on the night stand near his bed, removed the jars from the basin and set them and one dry cloth aside. He poured a good amount of the water into the basin and soaked a rag. He wrung the rag out until it was no longer dripping wet and settled himself at Potter’s bedside.

He reminded himself to use gentle strokes on the boy’s face. He didn’t want to rub the little boy’s face raw just to clean him up. Snape started by cleaning Harry’s forehead and worked his way downward to the parts that were actually dirty. He gently wiped the hard crust of mucous that had formed around Harry’s nostrils and used the rag to wipe the passages as clear as was possible. Then he gently wiped away the dried slobber on the boy’s chin.

He set the rag down and grabbed the pale green jar from the assortment of medicines on the night stand. He unscrewed the cap and the scent of menthol, eucalyptus and camphor began to fill the air. Snape put two fingers into the pasty looking goo and set the jar back on the night stand. He touched his forefinger to the top of Harry’s lip just beneath his nose and gently smeared a line of the salve there. Then he began to massage the stuff into Harry’s skin, beginning at Harry’s throat and working down to his chest.

Harry coughed as he began to breathe in the scent through his partly open mouth and he screwed up his face in a frown. The smell reminded Harry of cleaning solvents. He could feel an unnatural cool sensation spreading from his throat down to his chest. He coughed again and felt his chest burn from the inside. His throat was on fire. He couldn’t breathe through his nose, and he wasn’t home with his family; he was stuck with a dark, unhappy man. This was a miserable situation.

Snape placed two pillows under Harry’s head to keep him elevated and tucked him tightly into the bed so that he would not roll out. He grabbed the blue jar from the night stand and made a fresh pot of tea. He poured a cup and from the small blue jar he spooned out some of the ground up herb inside and stirred it up until it was blended. He spoke to Potter in a low, soft voice until the boy stirred and was aware enough to drink some of the tea without choking.

The warm liquid, though it tasted awfully bitter, felt nice as it trailed into Harry’s mouth and down the back of his raw throat. He relaxed back into the pillows when he felt he’d drank enough of the nasty tasting tea and felt mellow warmth soothing him. Even the ache in his ear seemed a little better.

Snape reached for a small jar of amber colored fluid as he set the partially drank tea down. He warmed the jar in his hands for several moments and then opened the seal. He snorted as he remembered that he had forgotten to bring some cotton with him. He kept the little jar of amber liquid in one hand to keep it warm and used his wand to transfigure one of his rags into several soft balls of cotton. He eased Harry’s head to one side, and poured a tiny amount of the warmed fluid into his ear canal. Harry winced, but didn’t cry out. Snape ripped a small piece of cotton and formed it into a ball, placing it over Potter’s ear canal to keep out the cool air from the castle. He repeated the procedure for the other ear, because he wasn’t sure if they were both infected or not.

Snape smoothed a bit of healing salve on the cartilage that Harry had clawed up with his fingernails, and then decided that he could afford to make himself a cup of tea and maybe some toast to eat. Snape realized, as he munched on his buttered toast, that he had completely forgotten to clean the drool that Potter had left on his trousers, but for some reason it really didn’t seem to matter that much.

After caring for Potter Snape had drank his fill of tea, eaten most of his toast and then settled into his armchair to read notes he’d made for a lesson plan for the upcoming term. He attempted to become lost in his work as he always did, but he found that something was tickling behind his eyelids. His eyes twitched in their sockets, making his vision blur, and he lost his place in the journal of notes. He rubbed absently at his left temple and reached into his robes to check his pocket watch. Merlin, was it really that late?

Caring for a child, especially and ill one, was an exhausting process. Snape wondered if he had caused similar feelings for his own parents when he was young. Before he had even realized it, his eyelids became much heavier than they had been a few moments ago. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought that he had been dosed with something to make him sleepy. The lesson journal fell from his lap with a dull thud. Normally the noise would have made him start awake, but he was already as good as dead to the waking world.

When Snape woke again it was not because he was well rested. He had a rather stiff neck where his head had lolled, just barely resting on his right shoulder, but that was somewhat of a trivial matter. He had woken up because something wasn’t right, but he wasn’t quite sure what had changed yet. He rubbed his fingertips over the sallow skin of his face and blinked as he stared at his bed. The empty bed . . . the boy was gone.

Snape had to look twice just to be certain that he wasn’t still dozing in his chair and dreaming this all up. He swore aloud before grinding his uneven teeth. He took in a breath to compose himself and rose from his chair. He went to the bed and got down onto his knees, lit his wand and tossed the bed skirt up onto the sheets to have a look for the boy. He ducked his head down and squinted. Snape sank a bit closer to the floor to move his upper body under the bed. Nothing. His hair swept the stone floor as he turned his head and moved to stand.

He stood, put his wand away in his robes and brushed his palms on his clothes. Snape glanced up at the ceiling and shut his eyes as he felt his heart make a solid effort to evacuate through his throat. As he had been moving to stand up, he had caught a glimpse of his chamber door from the corner of his eye. It was just barely ajar. He hadn’t locked the door, because he hadn’t thought the boy would be in any shape for wandering about the castle by himself. It wasn’t much like Potter to want to be wandering about by himself anyway. In the time that they had spent together Potter had barely left Snape’s side, and as irritating as that was it was preferable to the current situation. What had the boy been thinking?

Snape stormed through the door, slamming it into the wall as he pushed it open in a fit of anger. His mind was racing as he tried to think of where to search first. He had searched chamber after chamber. Calling the boy’s name aloud and making threats under his breath, but never got any sort of an answer. It had taken a long time to search the castle, and Snape had come up empty handed. No little boy. Anger boiled within him. How could he have allowed this to happen? He was supposed to be responsible for the child, and he had allowed his charge to get away from him. He was going to have to explain this to the Headmaster and ask for his help to look for Potter. Dumbledore wasn’t going to like knowing that Snape couldn’t even keep track of a little boy. But it wouldn’t do to have the boy devoured by a beast in the Forbidden Forest, and to search there (as well as the outer grounds of Hogwarts) he was going to need help.

Snape’s heart was beating in a strange rhythm as he approached the Headmaster’s office. He barked the password at the gargoyle and hurried up the steps. Once he was up the stairs he went straight for Dumbledore’s desk, since there wasn’t any point in wasting even a moment. Snape growled allowed when he saw that the Headmaster was not at his desk.

He glanced around the office before wheeling on his heel to leave. He froze in his place on the floor. Dumbledore was only a few feet away from him. The old man smiled. “I had not intended to startle you, Severus. Was there something that you wished to see me about?”

Snape did not shift in his place, but there was an odd feeling swirling about in his stomach. Something cool and unnerving. He swallowed to try to make it go away, but it stayed right with him like a strong scent. “It’s about Harry Potter, Sir.”

“What about him my dear boy?”

“He’s disappeared from my chambers, Sir.”

Snape felt a surge of annoyance at how calm Dumbledore seemed. He didn’t look concerned at all. “Well then, not a moment to lose. Perhaps we should start at the place you last left him?”

Snape was about to protest that he had searched everywhere in the castle and wanted to move on to searching outside, but the Headmaster was already descending the stairs without waiting for Snape to answer.

After Snape had caught up with Dumbledore and explained that Harry hadn’t been feeling well, they walked to Snape’s quarters. Snape willed the man to hurry up, but the Headmaster didn’t seem to feel the need for any amount of urgency. The door to his room was still wide open when he walked into the room with the Headmaster and breathed out a heavy sigh. What he really wanted to do was growl that the boy wasn’t in the bloody room! But Snape willed himself to be calm and do as the older man wanted despite the fact that this was ridiculous. Potter would probably be a little corpse by the time they found him.

Snape seethed as Dumbledore searched through Snape’s closet. This was still idiotic as far as Snape was concerned. “Severus, did you check the bath?”

“Sir?” Why in the world would he check there?

“Perhaps while I search here, you should check the rest of your room before we move on to where Potter was to stay.”

Snape shook his head, but moved to go to the lavatory anyway. Where was the boy going to stow away in there anyway? The tub? Certainly not. Snape opened the small cupboard where he kept his towels and various toiletries near the way out of the room. He gave the shelves a brief glance from top to bottom the racks were full of nothing but clean towels. Just as he had expected them to be. As he moved to slam the cupboard shut he caught a bit of movement from the lowest shelf. A towel had just wiggled.

Snape knelt down and shifted a few of the towels that were covering something out of the way. He frowned as the stuffed rabbit that Potter carried around stared him in the face. A mixture of emotions flooded through him as he pulled the boy out of the cupboard and stood up with him. Potter curled against Snape’s chest, not bothering to wake and look around.

Snape easily shifted the boy’s weight and held him with one arm so that he could feel his forehead for signs of fever. Potter was still warm, but not as bad as he had been the night before.

“Ah Severus, I see that you’ve found him. Well done.” After a moment of staring down at the features of the helpless boy in his arms, Snape looked up and scowled. “Well then, Severus, if there’s anything that you or Harry require later on please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Snape felt his skin growing warm just beneath his collar and he set his jaw to avoid saying things that he knew he would come to regret later. He waited until he had heard his chamber door shut before carrying the boy into the bedroom once more. He wanted to tuck the child into the bed once more, but he was afraid of losing track of the boy again, and there was the way that Harry seemed to cling to his robes even in sleep. It was as though he really didn’t want to be left alone at all. “Boy, you are insufferable,” Snape whispered softly as he moved to the closet to reach for a blanket.

He settled into his chair with Potter in his arms and covered him with the soft blanket. The boy shifted, curling even closer to Snape, who pretended not to notice. Since he could not read his notes like before, he watched the glowing flames in the hearth and thought that the Headmaster must’ve lit the fireplace for him before leaving the room. Snape stifled a yawn and allowed his eyes to drift closed. A bit more rest would probably do them both good.