Harry's feet hit the ground hard, and his knees buckled. He saw only a swirl of green and gray as he fell, dropping both his broomstick and Hedwig's cage. The snowy owl hooted loudly, her amber eyes disdainful, and she flapped her wings against the bars of her cage.

"Alohomora."

Hedwig's cage flew open, and Harry looked up just in time to see the owl take flight. "What are you doing!?" he demanded, glaring at Snape. "Where will she go? How will she find us?"

"I released a caged owl," Snape said coldly, "and unless I am much mistaken, she will go to the Owlery. Have you not noticed where you are, Potter?"

Harry looked around, and his heart leapt; he was back at Hogwarts! Snape's Portkey had brought them right to the gates. Immediately, Harry felt a twang of guilt; he had just blown up at Snape after the man had taken him from the Dursleys and brought him to Hogwarts, no less. Of course, Harry wasn't going to say that. All he did say was, "Oh. Right."

Snape sneered and repeated, "Right. Come, Potter."

The Potions Master then set off across the Hogwarts grounds, levitating the trunk and the things stacked on top of it and making a straight path for the castle, his black robes billowing behind him. Harry had a hard time keeping up, because Snape seemed to be in some sort of hurry. Or did he always walk this fast? Harry didn't know, and he wasn't about to ask.

Snape didn't slow down any when they came into the castle, but he did leave Harry's things at the door. He seemed to only be paying attention to where he was going and to whatever it was that he planned on doing once he got there, because he didn't even notice as he almost stepped on Mrs. Norris or pay any attention at all when she hissed at him and streaked off somewhere, presumably to look for Filch. But even a hurried Severus Snape could not ignore what waited for them as they turned onto the path that led to the dungeons.

There, wearing huge glasses that magnified her eyes and countless strings of beads and heavy shawls, was the Divination teacher, Professor Sibyll Trelawney. Harry had never met her, and so he wondered who she was and what she was doing in the school. Snape, however, knew Trelawney well -- at least, as well as it was possible to know someone who rarely left their room -- and seemed as shocked as Harry was to find her there, although for different reasons.

"Sibyll," he said, surprise in his cold voice. "What, may I ask, are you doing in the dungeons? Your room is in a tower, is it not?"

"Mine is, yes, Severus," Trelawney answered in her mystical tone. "Septima's, however, is not. And seeing as the two of us and Minerva are the only teachers left in the school at the moment, when the fates informed me that I should go for a visit, I came down here."

"I see," Snape said, his voice uncaring again. "In that case, we shall we going, Sibyll."

Trelawney, however, grasped Harry's arm as he went by. Harry probably could have broken away from her grasp, but something in her eyes held him fast. They were wide and manic, almost frenzied, and suddenly Harry realized what had stopped him: the look in her eyes now was just like the one that had been in Uncle Vernon's a week ago, when he had dragged Harry up the stairs and thrown him into the room, when he had put in the bars on the window and the extra locks on the door, when he had given Harry the slice of sandwich meat that was his first "meal" under the new regime and seemed to dare him to object. It made Harry cringe inwardly, and it was what froze him in his tracks as he stared into those eyes.

A hand clasped onto his shoulder, firm but gentle, and Harry snapped out of it. There was only Sibyll Trelawney standing in front of him, now looking off to Harry's left; and there, meeting her gaze with a venomous stare, was Severus Snape. Harry registered vaguely that Snape's grip was not as harsh as it had been only an hour or so before, but he did not have time to wonder why. Snape was trying to pull him away by that shoulder while Trelawney still held onto the opposite arm.

"We must be going, Sibyll," Snape said in the lethal tones that he normally reserved for students who exploded cauldrons in his Potions classes.

"But, Severus --"

"There is no need to inform us of any grave danger or imminent demise that you think you have foreseen."

"Very well, then," Trelawney said huffily, her voice losing its mystical quality. "I can see when my Gift is not appreciated."

She released Harry's arm and put her nose in the air. Unfortunately, she failed to see the suit of armor in front of her as she tried to leave the dungeon path and, as a result, crashed right into it. Harry couldn't suppress a laugh, and a cold sneer played across Snape's face.

Trelawney picked herself up, looking distinctly ruffled with her thick glasses ajar, and said quickly, "Laugh if you will, but I have Seen! You have both been brought here by the hand of fate, and fate may yet lead you to your doom!"

Harry stared after Trelawney as she stalked away, looking harrassed. Just as she turned a corner and went out of sight, Harry realized that Snape still grasped his shoulder. Apparently that fact dawned on Snape at the same time, because he withdrew his hand as if an electric shock had run through it. Turning on his heel, he began down the path into the dungeons again, saying, "Come, Potter."

As he followed Snape through the dungeons, Harry thought about everything that had happened and wondered why Snape had brought him here. Would he be allowed to stay at Hogwarts for the rest of the summer vacation? Surely Dumbledore wouldn't send him back to be locked up in Privet Drive, but would the headmaster believe him when Harry told him about Dobby? If no one would believe him, would Harry be expelled? Snape certainly didn't believe a word of Harry's story.. at least, he didn't think he did...

Then Snape stopped, and Harry looked around. They were outside Snape's office, and the Potions Master was unlocking the door. Harry wondered what Snape had brought him here for. Maybe he just thought it would be more comfortable to wait in his own office than at the Dursleys? Did that mean that he would send Harry back after they had met Dumbledore?

"Sit down, Potter," Snape told him, gesturing at the chair in front of the professor's desk. Harry did as he was told, but he kept glancing back at Snape, who seemed to be looking for something on the shelves behind him.

Finally, Snape took his seat behind the desk, and Harry met his eye uneasily. There was a long moment of silence. Harry wasn't sure why he was here, and the dead creatures floating in jars of liquid that lined the walls certainly didn't put his mind at ease. He wanted to know what was going on, but at the same time he dreaded it, because he was afraid that he was about to be expelled or sent back to the Dursleys. He knew that Uncle Vernon must know he was gone by now, and he didn't want to think about what his uncle would do when he realized that locking Harry up in a room with barred windows didn't help to keep him inside.

"When is the last time that you ate, Potter?" Snape asked suddenly.

Whatever Harry was expecting, this wasn't it. "I -- it was -- what?"

"When did you last eat?"

"Yesterday, I suppose," Harry said uncomfortably, remembering the piece of bread and hunk of cheese. "It was early when you came, you see," he tried to explain, but he fell silent quickly under Snape's stare.

There was another long silence and, at the end of it, Snape spoke again. Again, it was something Harry had definitely not expected.

"How long has your uncle been locking you inside that room?"

"He -- it was just, when the house-elf levitated the pudding -- he lost a business deal, and he was angry."

Snape seemed to pause for a moment, and then said, "I see." Then he drew his wand, and Harry stiffened; but then a plate of bacon and sausages, a silver goblet, and a jug of pumpkin juice appeared on the desk. Harry paused and then looked back at Snape, as if he didn't understand what this meant.

"Eat, Potter," Snape told him. "Professor Dumbledore will not be happy if I take you to meet him undernourished."

Harry glanced toward the plate and then back at Snape again before finally picking up a sausage. This wasn't like Snape at all, Harry thought. It was almost nice; and the day that Snape was nice to a Gryffindor, especially a Gryffindor with the surname of Potter, was the day that Voldemort married a Muggle. Perhaps he was just following orders; but that didn't explain why he had brought Harry to Hogwarts, either. None of it made sense at the moment, and Harry's head was starting to hurt from trying to figure it out. Or maybe it was just that, because he hadn't eaten much at all in a week, his body couldn't figure out what to do with the food.

Probably both, Harry thought wryly, putting down a half-eaten piece of bacon. It was then that he noticed that Snape was watching him, and Harry almost jumped, but managed to just flinch. Something glinted in Snape's black eyes then, and Harry wondered if the Slytherin Head of House was laughing at him behind that expressionless mask. He could just hear Snape's cold voice biting at him for it, just like it had last year in Harry's first ever Potions class.

Snape, however, did not say anything, but continued to look at Harry as if the Gryffindor were a book that he had yet to finish. It was rather unsettling, not least of all because Harry kept half expecting him to start snapping at him about not studying or taking points from Gryffindor. Finally, after a minute of looking back at Snape and shifting uncomfortably, Harry spoke.

"Sir, what -- er, what time is it?" He had almost asked 'what now?' but he didn't think Snape would take too kindly to the question.

"It is six-thirteen." Then, as if anticipating Harry's next question, Snape went on, "Professor Dumbledore will not return until four in the afternoon."

That was almost ten hours! Harry couldn't believe it. Ten hours of waiting down in the dungeons with only an oddly silent Snape for company. Of course, it was a thousand times better than the Dursleys', and at least Snape wasn't yelling at him or insulting him -- yet -- but it still seemed like an eternity. Again, as if on cue, Snape spoke up.

"You may walk about the castle, Potter, on the condition that your wand remains in the trunk by the castle door."

"Am I allowed to visit Hedwig?"

"So long as you send no letters. They could easily be intercepted, and the Ministry should not know that you are here."

That was all it took; Harry was on his feet in an instant. He could go and see Hedwig, and maybe even get one of his books out of his trunk and work on the homework that the Dursleys hadn't even let him start. He already had the door open and was on the point of walking through it when he paused and looked back. Snape was still sitting behind his desk, watching silently. Harry glanced at him and said quietly, "Thanks." As he walked out the door, he was certain he saw a look of astonishment on Snape's face.

*~*~*

Somehow, that day seemed to move more slowly than almost any other that Severus Snape could remember. He couldn't decide what to tell Dumbledore, and so he couldn't predict what Dumbledore would say, either. If half of what the boy had said -- and what he hadn't said -- was true, then Harry couldn't go back to his aunt and uncle, whatever Dumbledore had thought was the best for him eleven years ago.

Eleven years! It was hard to believe that it had been that long. James and Lily Potter were gone, and after all that time, their son was being locked up and all but starved by Lily's own sister and brother-in-law. Grudgingly, Severus had to admit that James did always protect the ones who were close to him; and Lily might have seemed quiet at first glance, but she was a fiery powerhouse if you crossed her, Severus knew that first-hand. Neither of them would have allowed their child to be treated that way had they been alive. So did that leave it down to Severus Snape, who owed them so great a debt, to help? Certainly Albus or Minerva could manage it much better than he. It would be enough that Severus had taken Harry away from his aunt and uncle, brought him to the people who could help. He wouldn't even have to have anything to do with it.

Severus looked at the clock on the wall, half hidden behind a jar of pickled murtlap tentacles: eleven-forty-five. With a sigh, he stood up and went to find Potter; the boy would probably not know where to go to find lunch, and he needed to eat whatever he could. Just looking at him, you could tell that he hadn't had a decent meal in a week.

Having expected to be forced to search the entire school over to find him, Severus was surprised to find Potter as soon as he came up from the dungeons. Yet there he was, right in the corridor, his back resting against the wall and a book propped open on his knees. At first, Severus thought that he was reading; but he didn't move as the Potions Master approached, his glasses had slid down on the bridge of his nose, and his breathing was too fine and even.

He paused to put the cap back on the bottle of ink that Harry had been writing with and looked down at the paper he had been writing on. Beneath a large drop of scarlet ink was half a Potions essay, and Severus was surprised to see that most of the information was correct. Interesting. Perhaps he isn't entirely like his father, after all.

"Lunch, Potter," he said, shaking Harry by the shoulder. As he opened his eyes, Severus was taken aback by how startlingly green they were. They were Lily's eyes, not James's, at all. He had never noticed that before.

"What?" Harry asked sleepily as he sat up. He straightened his glasses and found himself looking up at Severus Snape. For a moment, he didn't remember where he was or why this man of everyone on earth was standing over him; then he remembered what had happened that day, and he realized what Snape had been saying. "Oh, right. I thought there were only a few people left here, though? Sir?"

"Minerva McGonagall, Septima Vector, Sibyll Trelawney -- and now, you and myself," Snape answered. "The house-elves who prepare the meals always remain at Hogwarts, however; they have prepared a meal in the staff room."

Harry nodded and followed Snape to the staff room, thinking all the way about something he found quite curious. Snape was actually acting civil toward him, and when the Potions Master had awoken him a few moments ago, there had been none of the usual loathing in his eyes. It didn't make sense, but Harry was tired of trying to puzzle it out by the time they reached the staff room and a smaller version of lunch in the Great Hall laid out on a table inside.

*~*~*

It seemed like another long eternity before four o'clock drew near, but it came at last. Harry had finished his Potions essay, as well as his Transfiguration one, by the time Snape came to get him. He had been sitting in the corridor again, since he didn't know a password to get into his common room and the Great Hall was just too big and empty to study in, and this time he was awake, reading A History of Magic and frowning at the blank parchment on which he was supposed to be writing an essay about some goblin rebellion for History of Magic.

Harry had never been to Dumbledore's office before, and as Snape gave the password -- Lemon Drop -- he was startled to find what looked like a stone escalator waiting to take him up. He stepped onto it, and Snape came up after him; then, when they reached a door, Snape knocked.

"Come in."

Dumbledore was waiting for them, sitting behind his desk and watching them with those blue eyes that seemed to x-ray whatever -- or whomever -- they were turned on. He motioned for Harry to sit down opposite him, but Snape remained standing, and Harry thought he could feel those black eyes through the back of his head.

"Harry," said Dumbledore sadly, "You know the rules as well as every other student at Hogwarts. What could have possessed you to use a Hover Charm while in the room with Muggles?"

"I didn't, sir," Harry said earnestly, and he began his long explanation. Dumbledore, however, did not look skeptical when Harry mentioned a house-elf, merely curious.

At last, when Harry had finished, Dumbledore actually smiled. "Thank you, Harry," he said, nodding as if he had hoped for something like this all along. "I shall speak with Cornelius, though I doubt he will accept the explanation of a house-elf in a Muggle house. No, I do not doubt you, Harry," he added as Harry began to open his mouth, "but that does not mean that everyone in the wizarding world will have no objections."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said gratefully.

"Well, then," Dumbledore began briskly, but Snape interrupted him: "Professor, there is another matter that I wished to discuss wtih you, before anything else is said."

"Of course, Severus."

"If Potter could wait outside...?"

"Harry?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry nodded. He crossed the room and left, closing the door with a snap behind him; but then Snape began to speak, and Harry froze when he heard what he had said.

"Headmaster, I do not believe that Potter should return to his aunt and uncle. You sent me to check on the boy this morning, and I arrived to find him locked in a room with bars on the window. He had not been given proper food for at least a week, and I suppose you noted the bruise on his face and the cut on his eyebrow?"

"The Dursleys?" Dumbledore's voice asked, sounding surprised.

"Yes. He would not admit it, and he would not give me any answer at all; but I found it in his mind, for it was the first thing to come into his head when I mentioned it."

"You used legilimency on him?" Dumbledore sounded disapproving.

"I had no other choice. Would you rather I had not found out what was going on in that house? That I had sent him back, to be thrown around and starved? They were not going to allow him to return to Hogwarts, Headmaster," he added, his voice suddenly dangerous. "No one would have known until he did not return, assuming he managed without food until then."

"I see," Dumbledore said slowly, and Harry could just picture him sitting there with his fingertips pressed together, thinking. At last, he spoke again: "He cannot remain at Hogwarts, Severus."

"Surely there is somewhere he can be sent. Minerva --"

"Must remain here. She has much left to do before the school year begins. Sibyll and Septima have no other home. Where would you send him, Severus?"

"There must be somewhere, Albus."

Dumbledore was silent for a moment, and then he said quietly, "You could take him."

"I!?" Snape asked incredulously. "You wish me to take the son of James Potter!?"

"He is Lily's son, too, Severus," Dumbledore said gently. When Snape failed to respond, he added, "It would be only three weeks."

There was a long silence, and at last Snape sighed and said, "Very well..."

Harry practically ran down the stairs from Dumbledore's office, and stopped at the foot of them with his heart pounding. Snape knew -- how could he know!? This legilimency -- Harry didn't like the sound of it. It seemed that Snape really could read minds.

"Potter," Snape's voice said, and Harry did jump this time, nearly losing his balance as he tried to turn around quickly. "You will be coming with me."

"Coming -- with you? Where?"

"Would you rather return to your aunt and uncle?"

Harry was silent for a second, as if debating this; but it didn't take long. Snape might not like him, but the man had never raised a hand toward him and he had given him food -- real food -- twice already that day. And anyway, it meant that he was in the wizarding world, and that he wouldn't have to face Uncle Vernon's anger until next year, at least. So he met Snape's gaze and said slowly, "No.. no, I wouldn't."