Severus quickly entered the house, the fire dimming as he stepped through.

“Master Severus?” Cella was standing in the doorway, looking worried and nervous. “What has happened?” she asked, watching the too-still form he yet carried in his arms. “Is young master Harry all right?” she was wringing her small hands together as she followed the man out of the room, who still hadn’t answered any of her questions. She had to run just to keep up with his long strides.

“Cella, I need you to bring me the emergency kit stored up in the bathroom. Bring it to Harry’s bedroom once you’ve found it,” he instructed, taking the steps two at a time in his haste. “Hurry! Please.” he called behind him.

Once in his son’s bedroom, he began to lower the boy onto the bed, causing Harry to immediately cling tighter to his robes.

“It’s all right, Harry. We’re home now. I’m going to set you down on the bed,” he said slowly, gently sitting down himself before sliding Harry onto the bed beside him.

Harry leaned against his father’s side, wanting the contact, yet wishing he had the strength to pull away. He was so tired now that it was all over, allowing what had happened to sink into his head and his thoughts. The memories he’d tried so hard to suppress had come roaring back to life, and now it was all he could think about. He shuddered violently and finally found the energy to sit up, away from his father.

“Harry?” asked Severus. He’d felt the shudder his son had just experienced. He hoped it was just a chill, but he highly doubted it. “Cella will be here shortly with the potions you’ll need,” he said slowly, knowing Harry wasn’t ready to talk about the subject he himself so desperately wanted to discuss. He wanted to know what had happened, he needed to know, so he could fix the damage Harry’s Uncle had done once more. Why couldn’t he have just left the child alone? Was it so much to ask? Harry was such a lovingly sweet child, how could anyone purposely seek to hurt him? It was something Severus asked himself quite often, yet the answer seemed beyond him, as these things kept happening to his son!

He was about to yell for Cella. Honestly, how hard could it possibly be to find the damn potions? They were labeled for Merlin’s sake! He turned towards the door so his voice would carry further, but saw a figure in the doorway from the corner of his eye. “It’s about time, Cella!” he said more harshly than he’d really intended.

“It’s not Cella,” he said slowly, and walked in carrying the potions he’d sent Cella to retrieve.

“Draco! What are you doing here? I thought I asked you to stay with the Weasley’s.” he stated, rather upset at his godson for disobeying him.

Draco didn’t answer for a moment; he was too busy staring at his friend, his brother. Harry looked so awful, the blonde’s heart clenched in sympathy. “I wanted to help,” he said determinedly. Sadly, he knew all too well what it felt like to get pummeled by someone who was supposed to love and take care of you, not hurt you. His father was no better than Harry’s Uncle. But his father’s abuse had never been anything like what he saw with Harry. The raven-haired teen looked completely beaten and unresponsive. Draco saw that Severus was trying to get Harry to drink some kind of potion; from the color he assumed a healing potion. But Harry wouldn’t even open his mouth, let alone acknowledge anyone else was in the room with him. It was quite frightening to see him like this.

“If you insist on staying, try and help me here,” stated Severus, his tone short yet anxious. Harry was worrying him as well with his behavior. This wasn’t the first time Harry had been hurt like this, and yet, he was acting so much worse than Severus had seen before. He wondered what else had transpired with the boy’s Uncle, what he’d said to his son that would cause him to withdraw into himself so.

Draco didn’t know how he could help, but thought he would start by trying to get his friend to take the potion. He picked up the vial Severus had set back down on the nightstand and lifted it to Harry’s mouth. “Come on, Harry. You’ve got to take this,” he said lightly, pressing the vial to his lips. Harry didn’t react at all. Glancing at his godfather, Draco shrugged his shoulders in confusion as Severus warmed a wet cloth with his wand to clean Harry’s face.

All Draco could do was continue to try, so he lifted the vial again. This time he gently tapped Harry’s cheek with his hand. The effect was instantaneous: Harry flinched from the touch and nearly fell straight off the bed.

“Harry!” yelled Draco in alarm, grabbing his arm to keep him steady. His arm was instantly ripped from his grasp as Harry flipped over the side of the bed as if he wasn’t sore and bruised but instead had all the energy in the world. The dull gleam in Harry’s eyes was replaced with a look of timidity and confusion. “Are you all right?” he asked.

A moment of hesitation had Severus carefully approaching the boy from the side. “Harry? You need to get back in bed,” stated Severus. He tried to put his hand on Harry’s shoulder but the teen jerked away and stiffly made his own shaky way back to the bed. His ankle was hurting him badly and his stiff muscles were protesting his sudden movements of just a moment before. As he climbed back on the bed, he turned to face Draco, realizing he’d just shoved him away rather violently.

“S-Sorry,” he said quietly, but the thought of anyone touching him right now left him feeling sick.

Draco nodded as casually as he could and slowly sat on the bed beside the Gryffindor, allowing Harry to see his every move in an effort to make him feel more safe. Now that Harry was more alert, Draco simply handed him the vial. “Drink this,” he instructed as Severus sat down on the other side of them. Harry watched his father guardedly, clearly not wanting to look like a fool if he touched him and Harry flipped. He was mad at himself for fearing them, because he knew they wouldn’t hurt him, not the way his Uncle had. But, the fear remained nonetheless, and he couldn’t seem to stop it from affecting him.

Obediently, Harry downed the vial and placed in carefully back on the bedside table. He felt more than a little claustrophobic with both his father and Draco hovering over him, but it also felt nice to be cared for like this. His father handed him a cloth and he gently wiped it across his hot face, feeling it sting when coming across the large bruise on his cheek from getting punched in the face…then slapped…multiple times.

“Harry?” asked Severus, his voice sounded worried. He glanced up to see they were both watching him anxiously and realized they must have been trying to get his attention, only he’d been focusing on other things.

“Sorry,” he muttered for the second time. He met his father’s eyes and saw a second vial setting on the table, but he could see Severus had poured the substance onto his hands and was trying to tell him something, but once more he’d lost focus. “What?” he asked.

“Harry, I’m going to rub this onto your neck, okay?” he asked, his concern nearly palatable as he watched his son becoming more and more withdrawn.

Harry shook his head in confusion and leaned back. “Why?” he asked, pulling away slightly.

Severus sighed. “Child, there are bruises on your neck,” he replied, noticing how stark the bruises were in contrast to Harry’s pale skin. And, considering how raspy Harry’s voice was when he spoke, he assumed there was more damage than met the eye. The ointment was a must, or he’d have just left the poor child alone.

Harry stared at him for a long while after that, as if debating what he wanted to do. Harry reached his hand up to his throat and gently probed there, swallowing instinctively. It did hurt and the ointment would make it better. Finally, Harry nodded his consent and slowly angled his head back a bit so his father could rub in the thick potion. He fought against his inherent urge to flinch away from the warm hands that were suddenly rubbing at his neck. Thankfully, the ointment was quick to absorb into all layers of the skin and just as he was beginning to get flashes of his time in the car with his Uncle, the hands were gone. He slowly lowered his head and tried to take in a deep breath, realizing now how sore his throat must have been as he could now breathe more freely.

“What happened to your shirt?” Draco suddenly asked, pulling on the fabric that was barely covering him at all. Harry glanced down and stared. He remembered Vernon ripping it open and just as quickly shut his thoughts of that event away. He wouldn’t think on it, not now, and definitely not with an audience.

“I-It must have ripped,” he said quietly, hoping they wouldn’t ask any other questions.

Severus and Draco looked equally disbelieving, but Harry ignored them in favor of prodding at his sore ankle. He wished the pain in his entire body would just disappear and leave him in peace, but the odds of that happening were slim to none.

Severus handed him the ointment, allowing him to rub the thick substance into his bruised face when Harry had flinched from the hand coming in his direction. Afterwards, Harry stood up gingerly from the bed. “Can I take a shower?” he asked, desperately needed an extremely hot shower to wash away his pain and fears and the dirt. He was so dirty. “Please?”

His father nodded and Draco even helped him up off the bed. He was still feeling a bit dizzy and was actually grateful for the help. Draco had been sure to show him with his eyes that he was coming and would help him, which gave him time to steel himself for the unwanted touch, even if it was there to help him. Once in the bathroom, he closed and locked the door behind him, not wanting either of them to barge in on him while he was taking a shower. He also needed some privacy away from the prying eyes of his father and Draco. They just didn’t understand what was going on and he hoped they never would.

He turned on the water to as hot as he could stand it and quickly stripped off his clothes. He grabbed a washcloth from the cupboard and stepped into the shower, feeling the hot water beat down on his abused skin. Grabbing the bar of soap, he lathered the cloth with the soap and took to rubbing his skin with it, no matter how sore he already was. He just couldn’t seem to get clean. He scrubbed everywhere, not realizing just how hard he was scrubbing or that his skin was turning red. The memories spilt into his consciousness, overriding the physical pain, and he scrubbed even harder, tears streaming down his face. How could he have forgotten?

“Harry!” yelled a voice, startling the young man from his horrific memories and pulling him back to the present. “Are you all right in there?”

Harry nodded, forgetting for the moment that no one could see him. Then he shook his head to clear the fog of his thoughts and yelled through the curtain, “I’m fine!” he said, but looking down at his raw skin he realized he was far from fine. “I’ll be out in a minute!” he said after a few minutes had gone by.

“Don’t take too much longer, Harry, I still need to look at your ankle,” his father called through the door.

“Yeah, okay, Dad!” Harry yelled back. He remained under the scalding water for a few moments longer before forcing himself to get out and dry off. He grabbed his clothes from the hook on the back of the door and quickly re-dressed. He sighed disconsolately. He still felt so sullied, so filthy, so... Once again he had to pull his mind away.

Back in his bedroom, his father had lit the fireplace causing the entire room to feel warm and toasty; he should have been appreciative. Any other time it would have relaxed him, and to an extent it did now too, but his thoughts made it incredibly difficult for him to feel calm or happy or even warm. The room may have been warm, but he felt nothing but cold inside.

Severus instructed him to sit back on the bed, and he did so, albeit anxiously. He stretched his leg out as his father retrieved another potion from the emergency kit Draco had brought in. He could only assume it would do something for the sprain in his ankle. Probably heal the ligaments or whatever muscle he had pulled as he dove from the car. He stopped his thoughts from going any further than that. He wished he could push them all away again, like he had before, it was better to not remember than have all these horrible memories keep taunting him when he least expected. He knew there was more that he still hadn’t remembered yet, and he dreaded the day a new memory assaulted him.

As he’d been so unfocused, he wasn’t prepared when Severus reached out to pull up the pant leg on his pajamas. He reacted with a shocked gasp and ripped his leg away from his father, causing a ripple of pain to flare up his leg. He grabbed his ankle, moaning at his stupidity and the pain combined.

“Harry!” Severus gently reached for his son, "Harry, it's just me, I’m just fixing your ankle,” said Severus softly with his hands now on either side of his son’s legs. “It’s all right.”

Nodding, Harry looked across the room, not wanting to see his father’s face, but his eyes met with Draco instead. His friend looked incredibly worried and anxious. Harry gave him a small smile, hoping he didn’t look as drawn out as he felt. Obviously, it worked, for the blonde came closer and re-took his seat on the other side of him.

“Merlin!” exclaimed Severus.

Harry’s head whipped back around and he automatically cringed away from the look on his father’s face. “What were you doing?” he asked, his voice stern and his eyes hard. “Look at your skin!” he exclaimed, holding Harry’s leg gingerly, with the pants leg pulled up to his knee.

The raven-haired teen pulled his leg out of Severus’ grasp. He’d rubbed his skin so hard it practically felt like having sunburn. Before he’d hardly noticed it, as it had made him feel slightly cleaner, but now that he was out of the shower and had clothes on him, the pain was starting to set in.

“Dad,” he started slowly but not knowing how to explain such a thing.

Severus looked horrified. He looked over at Draco and saw the same look on his face. The two of them were both looking distinctly upset at him. But, he hadn’t realized he was scrubbing so hard!

“Harry, why the hell did you leave the water so hot?” asked Draco, thinking his friend had merely stood under scalding water for too long. That was only partially the truth and Harry was more than willing to go with Draco’s idea of what had happened.

Harry couldn’t meet their bewildered gazes any longer as he admitted, “I…I just didn’t…um, realize?”

Severus watched his son in growing concern, how could he not have realized the water was so hot it was literally burning him? He was beginning to suspect Harry might be more dazed from this whole experience than they knew. Severus wanted to get Harry in bed and asleep as soon as possible. His child needed rest and he was beginning to consider bringing in Madame Pomfrey as well. Harry just seemed so out of it, he wasn’t sure what to do for him.

With deliberate care and gentleness, Snape tended to Harry’s ankle, telling the boy in advance what he was about to do. Harry allowed him to do so, but not without flinching several times throughout the entire process. And he still needed to put a burn salve on Harry’s tender skin. He sighed to himself, knowing it wouldn’t be easy for the boy to take. He was so sensitive right now and it seemed that any touch, even if it was gentle, was first thought of as a hurtful one. He grew to hate Dursley more and more every minute.

The burn salve was downstairs in his private laboratory. He didn’t want to leave his son and sent Draco to retrieve it. He must have run, for he was back in the room with the correct salve in less than two minutes.

“Thank you, Draco,” he said quietly, turning to see his son looking more than apprehensive. “This is for your skin, Harry,” he said gently, he still couldn’t fathom how withdrawn from his mind Harry must have been to stand under such hot water and not realize it. Harry insisted on putting on the salve himself and Severus couldn’t deny him a small measure of control, even though he looked on the verge of collapse.

Harry disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He once more stripped down, feeling extremely exposed and hating it, but left his boxers on, he couldn’t bring himself to take them off even knowing most of the damage were to those parts of his body, as that’s where he scrubbed the hardest. His sore, stiff body was making it incredibly difficult to bend in any given direction and putting on the salve was proving rather difficult. Not that he wasn’t still trying, he was, but even the feel of his own hands was making him cringe. He finished his chest and started on his legs, but the pain and his memories were getting the better of him.

Out of nowhere, tears pooled in his eyes and a sob escaped his lips. He dropped the potion onto the floor and buried his head in his knees with his arms wrapped around his head as if they were the only things that could protect him.

………………………………………………………..

Severus sat down on the couch facing his godson. He felt utterly drained and exhausted. How could a normal day have gone to hell quite so quickly? He remembered how happy Harry had been just this morning, and now he was scared and frightened. Severus dropped his head into his hands.

“Severus?” asked Draco quietly. “Are you okay?”

Severus nodded his head. He was anything but okay, but he couldn’t let out his frustrations with Draco. Only, as it turned out, it didn’t really matter as Draco started talking about the events of the day.

“He hit him so hard,” said Draco out of the clear blue, startling Severus with both the suddenness and the shock in Draco’s voice. “So hard. Father never hit me like that, never outright punched me at least. He had a tendency towards backhanded hits, but never did he hurt me the way Harry’s Uncle hurt him today,” he said slowly. “I wanted to kill him for doing that to Harry.”

Severus sat more stiffly in his chair. “Draco,” started the older man, but the blonde just shook his head.

“I don’t plan on murdering him, Professor. I just want him to hurt the way he hurt Harry.”

“He will, Draco, I promise, he will,” said Severus, and Draco wondered if he wasn’t the one who should be worried about Severus murdering the horrid man. “And your father never should have hit you at all, either. Neither of you have deserved what’s been done to you. Don’t act like what your father did to you was in any way less horrifying than what Harry’s Uncle did to him. The both of you were abused and neither of you deserved it. Do you understand me?”

Draco nodded, looking anywhere but at Severus’ face, and then changed the subject. “Do you think Harry’s going to be okay?”

Snape sighed, knowing what Draco was doing. He’d let it go for now, but this conversation was in no way over with, they’d discuss it later when there wasn’t so much to worry about, as the both of them were too concerned about Harry.

“I believe he will be, eventually, we’ll just have to stay patient with him,” he sighed once more and mumbled into his hands, “I can’t even touch him anymore, it’s worse than when I met him, even. How can I help him if I can’t even hold his hand?” His words stopped suddenly and he tilted his head towards the bathroom door.

Draco wasn’t sure if he was supposed to have heard that or not and didn’t quite know how to reply. He’d heard about Harry’s and Severus’ experience on the Island and that Harry had been hurt there and he even knew about some of Harry’s past with his Uncle. But other than that, he didn’t know much and found himself to be a little curious about what Harry had been like before Severus had adopted him. It took him a moment due to his wandering thoughts that he no longer was in the company of his godfather. Standing up, he saw the older man standing at the bathroom door looking anxious.

“What’s wrong?” asked Draco, immediately jumping over the back of the couch to get to the bathroom. “Is he okay?” he asked, feeling fear build in his heart. As soon as he was closer he could recognize the faint sounds of someone crying. Harry was crying and the door was locked. “Open it!” he exclaimed.

Severus glared at him. “Thank you, Draco. I realize that, and if you’d step back out of my way, maybe I could unlock it!” he growled.

Draco realized he’d practically pushed Snape away from the door in his haste to get there and gave his godfather an apologetic look as he stepped back. “Sorry, sir,” he said slowly.

Snape nodded and pulled his wand on the door. “Alohamora,” he said quickly. He could hear the door unlock and immediately turned the knob. “Stay out here,” he instructed Draco.

“But, Severus!” exclaimed Draco, clearly wanting to protest, but one stern look from the older Slytherin had him backing down and sulking in the doorway. “Fine,” he muttered, but as he could see Harry collapsed on the bathroom floor, he became less hostile towards the man.

Severus’ heart nearly broke at the sight of his son sobbing on the cold, tiled floor. He went quickly to Harry’s side and dropped down on one knee beside him. Up close, he watched in dismay as the boy shivered from the chill and the emotions threatening to tear him apart. “Harry?” he called gently, putting one arm around the boy’s back. The small teen shied away from his touch, but seemed too weak to really fight him on it and he pulled Harry to his chest.

Harry tried to pull away, but Severus’ hold was too strong and he was too tired and despite everything he’d been through, he wanted to be held and to feel safe. He felt his father’s arms beneath him and suddenly he was lifted into the air and cradled against his chest. He allowed it, though just barely, whimpering as pain lapped over his body as his father’s arms touched his bare damaged skin and his strained and tender muscles rebuked him for being moved. He clutched his father’s shoulders as he’d done earlier in the afternoon, feeling as if his father was his only safety. Now that he was being held, he didn’t want to be put down again. He yawned, feeling extremely exhausted after such a long and painful day. All he wanted to do was curl up and sleep and never wake again.

He must have dozed off, for the next thing he knew he was lying on his bed and someone was touching his heated skin.

“No, don’t!” he moaned, rolling away from the touch and curling into a protective ball. Someone touched his back once more and he cried out. “Stop it!”

“Harry, it’s me! It’s Dad, calm down child. You’re safe now. I won’t allow anyone to hurt you. You’re safe,” Severus said, putting down the bottle of burn salve in favor of coaxing his son back from his fears.

Harry listened to his father’s deep soothing voice and felt himself calming down. He hated feeling so scared and turned towards his Dad, wanting the comfort only he could provide, who leaned over and pulled him into a gentle hug. “You’re safe,” he whispered once more into his ear, and Harry felt himself drift off yet again.

……………………………

“Master Severus?” asked Cella from the doorway. Severus looked up from his seat beside Harry’s bed and quickly raised his finger to his lips, indicating the little elf to keep her voice down. “Sorry, sir, but there are visitors in your study,” she said quietly.

Snape growled low in his throat. He knew who it would be, and he could understand their desire to see how Harry was fairing, but give the boy a chance to rest for Merlin’s sake! He stood up and motioned for Draco to take his place beside Harry. “Stay with Harry and notify me immediately if he wakes,” he instructed even as he was striding out the door, Cella fast on his heels. Draco nodded and quietly sat down in his godfather’s empty chair with a book in his hand, wondering what Severus would do with the Weasleys.

Down in the study an anxious group of people stood or sat periodically around the room, watching the door with a keen eye. As soon as it opened, everyone was on his or her feet.

Molly was the first to voice her question. “How’s Harry?” she asked, the worry palatable in her demeanor. She was sick with worry. It was clear the others were as well.

“He’s sleeping, so I’ll have to ask you to keep your voices down,” stated Severus, his voice stern. Instantly the room became more subdued and quiet, no one wanting to wake their hurting friend. He needed all the peaceful sleep he could manage to obtain.

“I want to see him,” said Mrs. Weasley, about reading to march up the stairs straight away.

“So do we!” insisted the younger Weasley’s and even Ms. Granger seemed intent on following them up.

“I told you he’s sleeping!” hissed Severus. Did they not understand this concept? Was it too difficult of a notion to accept that the boy needed his rest after being attacked? Obviously it was, as they still looked undeterred.

“We won’t wake him up, we just want to see him. Please, sir, he’s my best friend and we’re all worried about him. We saw what that bastard did to him before he was pulled into the car. We just want to make sure he’s all right, and quite frankly, I won’t feel better until I see him for myself,” stated Ron Weasley, sounding desperate. “Please?”

Severus sighed. “You can come back tomorrow morning when he’s awake to see him. I’m sorry, but he’s been so restless, I can’t risk him waking up,” he said, not mentioning the fact that if he were to wake up, the Weasley’s would have a front row seat to a panic attack.

Molly looked on the verge of tears. “But, Harry’s all right, isn’t he?” she asked, still desperately wanting to go upstairs and check on him herself. But she completely understood why Severus was hesitant to let them.

“He’ll be fine, I think. I’ve tended to him and he was so exhausted he even fell asleep before I could give him a sleeping potion.”

“But, won’t he have nightmares?” asked Hermione. She knew Harry was prone to nightmares; he had them way too often, in fact, at least in Hermione’s opinion.

“If he wakes up again, I’ll dose him with a Dreamless Sleep, but as I’ve already mentioned, he’s sleeping peacefully now so I don’t want him woken up!” he said, his nerves shot from the entire night’s drama.

“I’m sorry sir, we’re just worried about him,” replied Hermione, tears glistening in her eyes.

Severus sighed for the umpteenth time that evening. “I apologize, Granger. I realize you’re all worried, and I promise you all a visit tomorrow with Harry, so long as he’s up to it. Now, I would like to get some rest tonight as well. If anything changes during the night, I’ll have Cella inform you at once,” he added at their continued looks of worry.

“Thank you, Severus,” said Mr. Weasley, having stayed quietly in the background as his wife attempted to fight her way in to see the boy. He had started feeling immensely guilty for the entire thing. He should have seen Harry’s Uncle, he should have protected him, but he didn’t. He’d do anything in his power to make it up to the boy, anything at all.

Severus nodded and waited until everyone had left via floo before returning to his son’s bedroom. He knew he would get little to no sleep tonight as he fully intended to stay by Harry’s side the entire night through. Draco, however, needed to go to bed as well. He was drifting off, his head resting on the side of Harry’s bed with one hand lying lightly on top of Harry’s left one.

“Draco,” he whispered, lightly brushing the hair off his face. The blonde woke with a start and was instantly up and standing protectively over Harry before he realized who was in the room with him.

“Severus,” he stated, his sleep-dulled eyes finally taking in his surroundings and he gave his godfather a sideways grin before sitting back down. “Did you get them to leave?”

Snape nodded and sat down on the edge of Harry’s bed, careful not to jostle it too much. “I did. It’s getting rather late. Why don’t you go to bed.”

Draco shook his head. “I should stay here with Harry,” he insisted, unable to leave his friends’ side.

“I plan on staying, Draco.”

“What if I want to say too?” he asked defiantly. “I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to.”

Severus sighed. “Do whatever you wish, Draco, but do go to bed. You’re exhausted,” he said.

“Fine, but I’m sleeping in here!” he exclaimed quietly while transfiguring a pen off Harry’s desk into a cot beside the bed.

“I did say you could, you realize?”

Draco yawned, nodded, and climbed under the covers. “Goodnight, Severus.”

“Goodnight, Draco,” said Severus, watching as the blonde’s eyes drifted closed as he fell into a deep sleep.

………………………………………

The two teens had been asleep for almost an hour and yet Severus still remained awake. It didn’t matter how tired he currently was, sleep was no friend of his tonight. He’d taken the opportunity to finish applying the salve to Harry’s abused skin while he was still unaware, knowing it would be nearly impossible while he was conscious. It was now late into the night but thus far he couldn’t bring himself to leave Harry’s side, or Draco’s for that matter. He was aware that this entire ordeal with Harry was bringing up bad memories for Draco as well and knew both his children would be in need in the coming days. It would take a long time, especially for Harry, to overcome the events that had transpired just that afternoon. He wished they’d never happened at all, but there was no turning back the clock. It had happened and now they had to deal with it.

The night had grown chilled, even though it was the middle of summer, and Severus raised his wand to light a fire in the fireplace. It didn’t take long for the room to lose it’s chill but Severus covered the teens with an extra blanket just in case. He was feeling overprotective and maybe excessively so, but it was nice to be able to do something in a situation that seemed so out of his control. He was deeply worried for Harry, especially his behavior since he’d brought him home. He wasn’t sure what to think of it all.

He sank further into his chair as he became more and more exhausted but unable to leave his vigil in favor of his own comfortable bed. His sleep would be nonexistent if he left the boys, but at least here he could rest his eyes and still stay with them. His thoughts drifted to Harry when he saw him shift uncomfortably in his bed before settling down into a slightly restless sleep. He gently brushed away a stray lock of raven hair from the boy’s eyes and pulled the blanket that Harry had kicked off back onto his still form. Harry was shirtless to allow for the salve to absorb into the skin more fully and he didn’t want his son to freeze in the chilly room wearing only his pajama bottoms.

But as he tucked the teen in, he saw the vivid bruises once more and clenched his fists in anger at the man who had done this to his son. The ointment had helped on the bruises circling Harry’s neck and face and even one on the boy’s stomach. But, they were only slightly faded and would take a few more applications before they faded completely. He sighed as he leaned forwards in his chair and rested his head in his hands feeling somehow defeated, wishing he could do more for his son. Desperately wishing he would have been there to protect his son against his own Uncle. He briefly wondered how James and Lily would be feeling if they knew what had befallen their beloved child. The child they had died to protect and the same child he hadn’t been able to save from harm. He’d promised himself he’d never let anyone or anything ever hurt his son again, countless times it seemed, and no matter how many times he repeated the phrase to himself, it happened just the same. What did he have to do to keep Harry safe? And how was he going to help his son heal…once again.

………………………………

Deliverance was standing in the hallway watching as her cousin sank further and further into the chair, seeming to drown in his own despair. Her own heart still beat frantically in her chest from the news she had just recently discovered at the Weasley household. She had assumed they would all still be there, but they hadn’t been. Instead, she’d discovered a household in disarray. They told her of Harry’s kidnapping and the unfortunate aftermath. She needed to see the boy she considered a grandson and make sure he was all right with her own eyes. She wouldn’t rest until she had.

Now, she stood just beyond Harry’s bedroom watching as Severus’ obvious despair tried to get the best of him. She quietly entered the room, any anger at having not been told drifting away at the sight before her. Severus was suffering just as much as anyone and needed someone to help him deal.

“Severus?” she asked as she gently placed her hand on his tense shoulder. His head snapped up, clearly having not heard the woman enter the room.

“Deliverance?” he asked, startled at her sudden presence. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

“I went to the Weasley’s, hoping to find you there. They told me what happened. I came as soon as I could, cousin,” she looked at Harry cuddled deeply under two layers of blankets and smiled at the scene. “Is he all right?” she asked gently.

Severus didn’t know how to answer that question. Physically, he was better and soon all his scrapes, abrasions, and bruises would disappear. But emotionally…that was another story entirely. He had thought about asking Madame Pomfrey to come in to examine the boy, but seeing Deliverance made him remember the woman was a healer in her own right. She had taken care of many of the villagers on the Island and had even tended to Harry a few times when he had been hurt after Jeb Corwin had gotten his damned hands on him. He shuddered at the mere thought of the man who was now gratefully dead.

“No, I don’t think he is,” he finally said after many different thoughts had flown around in his head. He’d like to say that Harry was doing fine, that Vernon Dursley had never put a hand on the teen, that Harry was having a wonderful summer. But none of that was true. And he feared things wouldn’t be fine for a long time coming.

Deliverance stood stock still beside Severus, taking in all that had been said. “How bad is he?” she managed to ask a moment later.

“Well, he won’t let me touch him, to begin with. He’s afraid of me, not myself as a person, just of what he expects to happen after being in Dursley’s abominable hands for so long. It’s as if he’s forgotten what is safe and what isn’t. Every raised hand could be one raised to strike; every loud word could be the foretelling of an abusive argument. He’s withdrawn and frightened, even more so than when Corwin abused him while in the forest. I just don’t know what to do. I know what I want to do, I want to hold him and care for him, but he’s too fearful right now,” he trailed off, staring at his cousin in dismay. “Deliverance, I don’t know what to do.”

It was a moment of honest truth, one Deliverance didn’t know if she’d ever see again, as she’d never seen Severus so distraught he let down all his barriers. “We’ll fix him, Severus. I promise we will,” she said softly, encouragingly.

“Yes, we will. Oddly, that’s also what Dursley said, as we were about to leave, to have fun fixing him. I never wanted to hit someone so hard in my entire life. But, obviously, Harry came first and will always remain my first priority. Both of them will always remain my first priorities,” he said, looking at the two teens lying obliviously in their beds.

Deliverance took a moment to observe her grandson, who had once more kicked off his blankets. She saw the fading bruises and felt her jaw clench. Who would do such a thing to a child? It enraged her that some people with blessed with children, even those who weren’t their own, and all they did with that gift was use and abuse it. They were monsters, the entire lot, that Harry had been forced to grow up with. She shuddered at the mere thought of what this boy must have gone through every single solitary day. It must have been awful.

She also took the opportunity, while Harry was still soundly sleeping, to do her own cursory exam. She didn’t want to do anything too evasive for fear of waking him. Severus was more than willing to let her check him over so long as she didn’t wake him. Then, as he so eloquently put it, there would be hell to pay. It took no time at all to check him over and what she discovered left her feeling grim, but curious. The damage now wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been when Jeb Corwin had taken his insane anger out on Harry. She found herself wondering why he was acting more withdrawn and frightened, as Severus had told her, than he did back on the Island. It almost didn’t make sense, unless it was just a side affect of being in his Uncle’s presence. It could be an engrained reaction after seeing the man. Some of the pieces of the puzzle were still missing, it seemed, but Deliverance was willing to let it go for now.

Besides which, Harry was awakening and she knew he wouldn’t be prepared to wake to someone touching him. She withdrew and motioned Severus with a bent finger. “He’s waking,” she whispered.

Severus stood up from the chair he was lightly dozing in and quickly went to his son’s side. However, what they had mistakenly taken as signs of waking was actually the beginning of a nightmare. Harry mumbled something into the pillow and rolled onto his back, pushing fruitlessly at the heavy blankets on top of him.

“No,” he groaned, pushing harder, but as he was still in the midst of sleep, the coordination it took to push free of the blankets wasn’t there. His movement became less sluggish and more erratic as he tried again and again. “Get off!” he yelled, and as hands came from either side of the bed to try and comfort him, Harry’s lame attempts to fight free grew frantic and nearly hysterical.

“Harry,” said Severus softly, but the boy didn’t hear. He continued to thrash and Severus put out a hand to try and halt the frenzied movement, but Harry became even more upset at his touch. “Child, wake up. It’s just a nightmare,” he murmured lightly, indicating with an out-raised hand for Deliverance to take her hands off the quivering boy.

She did so reluctantly, but knew their touch was only making it worse.

The hands were gone, but still Harry thrashed on his bed, his words becoming less comprehensible, but Severus could have sworn he heard Harry mutter something along the lines of ‘too heavy, it hurts,’ but wasn’t entirely sure. The mumbled words had left his heart in a vice, but he’d probably imagined it or Harry had said something entirely different. He let his ideas tumble away as Harry jerked awake, his green eyes wide and frightened.

Harry sat up immediately and pressed his back against the cool wooden backboard. He saw someone move in front of him and reacted on instinct. With one hand raised in defense, he shouted. “Don’t!”

Both Severus and Deliverance stopped where they were. “Harry, son, you needn’t worry. I’m here, it’s Dad,” he soothed.

Harry was slow to let the words sink into his mind, but as they did he finally relaxed and looked up with watery eyes. “I’m s-sorry,” he whispered. “Did I wake you?”

Severus let out a long sigh. After a nightmare like that, Harry was worried that he’d awakened them; he cared nothing for his own sleep. They definitely needed to work on what was important when it came to Harry’s nightmares.

“I was already awake,” stated Severus, sitting carefully on the side of the bed. He glanced over towards his godson’s bed and saw he was wide-awake, just as he presumed, but had remained in his bed to stay out of the way. Very thoughtful of him, considering it was Draco. The teen always had to be in the middle of everything, but he’d seen the stressful situation for what it was and had let Severus and Deliverance handle it.

Harry nodded but seemed unable to meet anyone’s eyes. “Still sorry,” he said slowly.

“Don’t you dare be sorry, Harry,” demanded Deliverance, unable to see the boy look so dreadful. “It was a bad dream, nothing you could have helped, and if you happen to be a little more vocal than you normally would be, no one in this room will think twice about it. If you want to scream your head off, go ahead and do it. We’re you’re family, Harry. We love you,” she said, feeling herself grow a wee bit too emotional and saw both boys looked a little embarrassed. She coughed into her hand, but felt the little speech had been necessary. “Sorry,” she muttered.

That actually got a laugh out of Harry and Draco, considering she’d been getting onto him for saying the same thing. She just about said it again, but caught herself in time. “Perhaps it’s a good time for some nice hot chocolate,” she suddenly said, breaking the left over tension still in the air. “My mother always made me some fresh off the stove, no matter what time it was, if I was feeling a little down. Would anyone care to join me in the kitchen?” she asked, making it seem completely natural to drink hot chocolate at three o’clock in the morning.

Harry sat silently on his bed. He actually wasn’t in the mood for hot cocoa. At the moment he didn’t think he’d ever be in the mood for hot chocolate again. But, refusal would lead to a long and unwanted conversation so he decided on the lesser of two evils and followed the three downstairs. At least, he thought, it would keep his mind off his nightmares. Nightmares, which he now realized, had been real all along.