When Severus stepped out of the Infirmary floo, he expected Harry to follow him. He didn't expect him to stumble and topple forward. It was fortunate Severus still had his hands on the boy, or the tumble might have added even more bruises to the child's battered body. He instinctively grabbed the boy before he could fall and swept him up into his arms.

Harry gasped and coughed in his face, then turned beet red. Apparently, the floo journey had momentarily shocked him out of his stupor. As Severus started across the room, heading for the nearest bed, Harry protested faintly. "Hey! Hang on! I'm not a baby, you know."

"I know," Severus agreed. The boy was disturbing light in his arms.

"I can walk! You don't have to carry me!" Harry squirmed to be let down.

"Quit wriggling before you unbalance us!" Severus scolded mildly, ignoring his protests. He laid the boy on one of the beds and began to gently remove his t-shirt. Harry recoiled, backing away from him. "It's all right," Severus reassured him. "There's no one here to see . . . no reason to be embarrassed."

Harry just stared warily at him. Severus sighed. He flicked his wand, murmuring a sleeping spell, and watched the boy close his eyes and slump over. Casting a warming spell on the sheets, he removed Harry's glasses and carefully positioned the sleeping boy on his back. He stripped him with a wave of his wand and began the most complete diagnostic spell he knew. Harry didn't rouse or make a sound.

Severus was still concentrating on the diagnostic spell when a shocked and very distressed Minerva bustled into the Infirmary. She saw Severus' quick warning gesture and stopped at the end of the bed, remaining silent until Severus turned the limp boy over on his stomach. Minerva gasped at the sight of the painfully dark welts that crisscrossed the boy's bottom and thighs. She stared hard at Severus.

"The uncle," Severus reported tersely, and continued his diagnosis. After a moment, he sighed heavily. Covering Harry with a blanket, he went to rummage in Madame Pomfrey's potions cabinets.

"Oh, Harry," Minerva murmured, brushing her fingers through the sleeping boy's dark hair. "I'm so sorry. . .so very sorry. . . my poor boy."

Severus returned with a tray loaded with numerous bottle and jars. He gave Minerva a disgusted sneer and she scowled a bit huffily but moved out of his way. Severus opened one jar and scooped out a handful of sharply-scented cream, which he gently rubbed into all the bruises and welts on the back of the boy. Then he turned him over and applied the cream to a few odd round bruises on the boy's chest and arms. He lastly rubbed the cream into the bruise on Harry's cheek, then spelled some light-weight pajamas onto the boy. He twitched his wand again, canceling the sleeping spell. Harry stirred and his eyes fluttered open to stare at the Potions Master in confusion.

"It's all right, Harry,' Severus said calmly. "You're safe. You're at Hogwarts. I need you to drink these potions for me. May I help you sit up?" When Harry nodded, Severus braced his shoulders and raised him up a little. Harry frowned at the potion bottle Severus lifted to his lips.

"It's a pain reliever," Severus explained. Harry swallowed the contents with only a light grimace. "Fever reducer." The boy took the second potion without complaint. "This is a nutritional elixir," Severus continued to explain each remedy quietly.

The boy gulped it down and gave him a faint smile of surprise. "Tastes minty," he whispered.

Severus poured him a cup of water, placing a straw against his lips. "Sip slowly," he instructed. He let the boy drink thirstily for a minute, then pulled the straw away. "Easy. You're dehydrated. You'll need to drink plenty of water for the next few days, but not too much at once. Too much too fast will upset your stomach - understand?" Harry frowned but nodded.

"Professor McGonagall, would you care to assist?" Severus gestured Minerva to the other side of the bed, where Harry noticed her for the first time. With a soft gasp of dismay, he turned his blushing face away from her.

"It's all right, Harry," Severus patted his hand. "Professor McGonagall is here to help. There's no reason to feel embarrassed or uncomfortable." He glanced at Minerva. "If you would, Professor, you can hold Harry's water for him and give him a few sips when he wants it," he handed her the cup.

"Of course," Minerva pulled a chair closer and sat beside him.

"You have a bit of sunburn, Harry," Severus said opening another jar. "This cream will ease the burn. I'm going to unbutton your shirt a little so I can reach your shoulders." He opened Harry's pajama shirt and rubbed the new cream onto the boy's neck and shoulders. The cream had a crisp, sweet scent and Harry sighed when the Potions Master rubbed it on. "Better?"

"Mmm. . .much," Harry admitted hoarsely.

Severus spread some of the cream on Harry's face, avoiding the purple bruise along his jaw. He laid an extra thick layer of the cream on the boy's blistered nose. The angry red of his burned skin began fading immediately into a mild pink hue. "Have some more water, Harry," Severus instructed, as he took one of the boy's limp hands and smeared the burn cream onto his arm. Harry lay stiff and tense, refusing to turn toward his Head of House.

"You know, Harry - it was Professor McGonagall who sent me after you," Severus commented lightly as he began to smooth the burn cream into his other arm. "She was worried about you. She sent for me, all the way to France, and asked me to bring you to Hogwarts."

Harry now glanced bashfully over at Minerva who smiled encouragingly. "We've all been concerned for you, Harry," Minerva offered him the water. "Professor Snape and I suspected you were unhappy, and Professors Sprout and Flitwick wanted to help you as well." Harry said nothing, but sipped at the straw, watching her warily through half-closed eyes. She let him drink a little, then at a nod from Severus, gently pulled the straw away. "Please don't worry about anything, Harry," she murmured tenderly. "You're safe here at Hogwarts. The four of us only want to help you to get well and strong again." Harry blinked at her, not quite meeting her gentle gaze.

"Another potion, Harry," Severus announced, raising the potion to his lips. When Harry drank this one, he scowled at Severus in disgusted recognition. "Yes," Severus confirmed with a smirk. "It is a sleeping potion. You need to rest. Are you feeling a little better now?"

"Yes," Harry rubbed his eyes crossly and yawned. He glanced around the Infirmary. "Am. . .am I going to stay here now?"

"Until you're feeling better," Minerva said soothingly. "Then we'll arrange something more comfortable for you."

Harry looked at Severus through heavy-lidded eyes. "Thank you, sir," he whispered.

Severus brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Rest easy, Harry. You're safe now. No one is going to hurt you again, I promise." Minerva gave the Potions Master a long thoughtful look as Harry's eyes drifted shut. Severus met her gaze, then motioned her to a chair by the windows.

Just as he was settling onto a bed beside her, the floo across the room blazed, and Flitwick and Sprout stepped out. Severus beckoned brusquely at them for silence, gesturing at the sleeping boy on the bed. They both nodded, brushed off their robes and joined the two by the windows. Severus erected a privacy bubble around the group.

"What about the portraits?" Pomona asked, glancing around the room suspiciously.

"The occupants of the Infirmary portraits were all healers," Minerva explained calmly. "They may be dead, but they are still bound by oath to maintain patient confidentiality - just as their living counterparts are."

"I didn't know that," Filius remarked.

"Unlike the other castle portraits, they cannot reveal anything they view in here - not even to the Headmaster - without a patient's consent."

"How are the Muggles?" Severus turned to Flitwick.

"Asleep in their own beds," Flitwick replied. "I altered their memories. They will awake in the morning with no recollection of what took place today. I took the liberty of installing a few false memories as well. They are under the impression that Harry went to visit friends, and won't question his absence. . . in fact," the tiny professor grinned impishly, "the Dursleys will have a hard time thinking about Harry at all. Every time he comes to mind, their thoughts will take a small detour onto some other train of thought. Anyone who interrogates them will find it hard to get any sense out of them."

"Hardly noticeable, that," Minerva snorted. "They didn't have any sense to begin with."

"How is Harry?" Pomona asked.

"He is recovering. He'll need to remain in bed for most of the week," Severus reported.

"What happened?" Minerva asked impatiently.

Between them, Severus, Filius and Pomona quickly filled her in on everything that had occurred at #4 Privet Drive. She fumed when Severus told of Harry's beating and paced the floor angrily as they explained the boy's living conditions. When Severus described the cupboard under the stairs, Minerva turned pale.

"They locked him in a cupboard to punish him!" she gasped.

"No, Minerva," Severus replied frostily. "He lived in there . . . when he was younger, I'm guessing - until they fashioned that cell for him upstairs."

"I had no idea it was that bad!" Minerva fretted tearfully. "Oh Merlin! If I had known. . .I never should have let Albus leave him there! I should have taken Harry away the moment I saw how those people were!"

"You couldn't have known, Minerva," Flitwick tried to reassure her. "The worst was carefully hidden."

"Even I did not see it," Severus scowled bitterly. "Merlin knows I should have - I should have recognized the signs. . . I was so bloody blind!"

"It does no good to wallow in guilt over should haves and could haves," Flitwick argued reasonably. "We cannot change the boy's past. . . only his future."

"And we will," Minerva declared vehemently. "No matter the cost! We owe it to Harry. I don't care what it takes. I will see all of us in Azkaban and Hogwarts in ruins before I let those monsters touch that boy again!"

"Hopefully, it won't come to anything quite so catastrophic," Severus remarked dryly, amused by the witch's fervor.

"You still haven't told us - what is the child's condition?" Pomona asked.

"My diagnostic scan didn't turn up any serious damage - no broken bones or internal injuries. . . mostly just contusions. He is dehydrated and running a fever. . .probably from heat exhaustion. He is suffering from serious malnutrition. . .long-term, I'm guessing. I suspect he has been dangerously underfed his whole life in that Muggle hell - it would explain why he is so much smaller than his peers. Neither Lily or his father were short . . . I think Harry is undersized because of chronic malnourishment." Severus clenched his fists, visibly restraining his temper. "Near-starvation; forced labor; brutal thrashings - it's a wonder the boy isn't comatose by now!"

"Was there evidence of any other kind of abuse?" Flitwick asked quietly. He gave Severus a grim look. The two witches blanched when they caught his meaning.

Severus shook his head. "I found no signs of molestation. But my diagnostic skills are limited. Madame Pomfrey can do a much deeper scan, revealing all past injuries."

Minerva glanced over at the sleeping boy across the room, her eyes filled with tears. "What can we do to help him, Severus?"

"The physical damage will heal quickly, but I cannot say the same for any emotional damage Harry has suffered," Severus murmured pensively. "This kind of neglect and abuse can have long-term effects. Our immediate concern should be to help him come to terms with the abuse. At the moment, Harry is ashamed of what has happened to him. He's frightened and humiliated. He won't want to talk about it - he may even deny it. But he must be encouraged to face it and talk about it: and not just to provide the proof we need to keep him out of those Muggles' hands permanently. Harry needs to talk about the abuse in order to confront it once and for all and grow past it. He needs to accept that none of this is his fault. He won't heal until he does."

Severus sighed. "I believe I can help him with this. . . I intend to make it my priority. But you all need to be aware of how sensitive he is going to be about the subject. Don't push him to talk, but be accessible if he does. There is no way to know when he will feel secure enough to discuss it - or with whom. If you want to help Harry, just be patient with him."

"Whatever you do, don't fawn over him, or show him pity - he will hate that!" Severus admonished, with a sharp glance at Pomona. "Trust me on this! The last thing Harry wants or needs right now is pity! He feels vulnerable and powerless - and probably ashamed of what he views as his own weakness. He most likely blames himself for not being able to stop the abuse. . . he may even have convinced himself that he deserved it. He needs our support - but he also needs to be treated with respect: he needs to believe that we value him - that he has worth - that he isn't some pathetic, helpless child to be coddled. Harry won't learn to respect himself, if he doesn't believe others respect him."

"Is that why you spoke to him the way you did?" Minerva suddenly asked, a spark of understanding lighting her eyes. "I noticed when you healed him you told him everything you were doing - you even asked his permission before you did anything."

"Partly,' Severus nodded, pleased by her perception. "I also did it to reassure him. Because of the abuse, he is understandably shy of physical contact. . . he flinches instinctively if you touch him without warning. Until he recovers from that and learns to trust us, he needs to be approached slowly - I want to avoid startling him. I urge all of you to do the same. Always ask his permission before you touch him. It not only gives him warning, but it gives him back a bit of power as well."

"Power?" Pomona asked.

"As I said, Harry feels powerless. His relatives made sure of that. They controlled every aspect of his life, constantly reminding him of how helpless and defenseless he was. Right now - particularly at the beginning of his healing - if we ask his permission for little things, like touching him, or helping him; if we allow him to make small decisions for himself, he will begin to feel he is gaining back some control over his own life. It may not seem like much, but it will make a huge difference to Harry. The sooner he realizes we aren't trying to dominate him, the sooner we will gain his trust."

Minerva gaped at him with open surprise and respect. "Why, Severus! That is amazingly perceptive of you! I had no idea you knew so much about a child's emotional needs! Where did you learn such wisdom?"

He gave her a sardonic smile. "From my mother," he said. When his colleagues grinned, Severus changed the subject brusquely. "Now, I think we'd best discuss how we're going to handle the Headmaster."

"Under the circumstances, I see no need for further secrecy," Pomona announced. "The child was being beaten, for Merlin's sake! How could the Headmaster have any complaint about our interference?"

"I agree with Pomona," Minerva said firmly. "I plan to notify him about what happened, and inform him of our actions. He knew I had members of the staff watching the house. I have no problem accepting responsibility for my decision to bring Harry here. I dare the old fool to object now!" she sniffed.

"I concur with your decision," Severus said slowly, "With one possible amendment." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps you should alter your explanation of my involvement just a bit." Minerva looked at him quizzically. "Albus doesn't know that my relationship with Harry has improved. He still assumes I loathe the boy. It might be wise - just as a future precaution - to allow him to continue that assumption."

"What are you plotting, Severus?' Minerva asked warily.

"Nothing - for now," Severus replied slyly. "I simply think it would be wise for Harry to have at least one secret advocate hiding in the wings. . .just in case. Instead of revealing that I was already involved and that you summoned me here - I suggest you tell Albus that I just happened to return to Hogwarts when the Dursleys' violence was uncovered. I'll invent some viable excuse for coming back here after the conference, before continuing my mission. I was in your office when Pomona alerted us to Harry's predicament," he continued, expanding his ruse as he went along. "With outraged insistence, you demanded that I accompany Flitwick and Sprout to Surrey: which I did (but not without the expected amount of grumbling and complaints, of course.) From there - we tell him everything as it happened - the genuine truth. Albus won't question my involvement at that point. I've saved Harry from danger often enough that he would expect me to do it again. Since Madame Pomfrey is away, I have remained (under protest), as the most qualified among us to tend to Harry's injuries and heal him."

"That's quite good," Flitwick acknowledged. "Very shrewd. It's close enough to the actual truth that we are unlikely to slip up and reveal too much."

"Exactly," Severus gloated. "We aren't fabricating events - just my motives. Albus' own assumptions about my feelings toward Harry will reinforce the deception. It won't occur to him to question it. This way he will remain unaware that I am genuinely concerned with Harry's welfare."

"Do you think this is necessary?' Minerva asked, somewhat perplexed.

"I hope not," Severus answered darkly, but he did not offer to explain his reasoning further. He glanced at the clock over the Infirmary doors. "Now, I must ask that we continue this discussion later. I need to wake Harry to give him another potion and get some more liquids into him. It would be better if we were alone. He's not ready, I think, for more visitors yet."

Severus cancelled the privacy charm and returned to Harry's bedside as the other three left quietly. He stared down at the boy, regretting the need to wake him from the healing sleep. He hesitated a moment, stroking Harry's hair and pondering the young boy's fate. Deep in his heart, he made a silent vow.

Don't worry, Lily. I'll take care of the boy. I've hardly done an adequate job of it up to now, but that will change. No one will ever hurt Harry again. I give you my word - as a man and as a wizard.