Potter was not immediately visible but another gurgling groan came from the floor on the far side of the bed, and two strides carried the tall wizard around the foot of the bed. Potter lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, his breathing rapid and shallow and hoarse. He seemed to be semi-conscious and so was not immediately aware of the man who knelt down beside him.

Severus put a gentle hand on the boy's thin shoulder, finding it difficult to locate an area of skin that was not marred by welts or cuts. As soon as Harry felt the touch, he cried out in obvious fear and a shiver raced across his skin. He tried to roll away but his injuries prevented any movement; all he could manage was another muted cry of pain and then he started to cough. Bright blood bubbled out of the corner of his mouth and Severus could tell, without the use of magic, that the boy had a punctured lung.

Harry was becoming more and more agitated, his breathing more choppy and wheezy, and his lips were becoming cyanotic. Blood continued to bubble out of his mouth.

Severus wasted no time. Whilst pressing Harry's shoulder against the hard floor, he pointed his wand at the boys chest and muttered a string of complicated words. Immediately, a bright blue-white light erupted from the end of the ebony wand and penetrated Harry's chest wall. Harry's eyes sprang open wide with the shock of the spell. For the space of five seconds, he fought Severus' hold like a Kneazle confined within a Hessian sack. Severus restraining hands just tried to prevent Harry injuring himself further.

Suddenly, Harry stilled and his gurgling breaths were suspended for the space of another five seconds, then the air whooshed out of him and he seemed to become boneless under Severus' hand. His respirations were no longer harsh, but they were still far too rapid.  

"Potter, can you hear me? It's Professor Snape. I'm here to help you." As appalled as Severus felt at the sight of the injured child, he worked to keep his voice dispassionate. He was not at all sure that Potter would exactly be reassured to know that Severus Snape was in the immediate vicinity when he was so helpless.

Sure enough, Harry, who was obviously still in considerable pain and who had his eyes screwed tightly shut, now opened them wide in panic. Severus could see the long black lashes clumped together with mucous and tears, the green orbs glazed with pain. Those distinctive, round glasses were missing.

Severus' words themselves had not registered with Harry but the distinctive, deep drawl that had heaped insult after insult upon his head for the last five years triggered the usual negative emotions, and his fear intensified.

A sudden spurt of adrenalin negated the pain momentarily and Harry scooted backwards on his one good elbow and his heels. He moved less than two feet before collapsing again and rolling back onto his side, his uppermost arm very obviously broken near the elbow. His face was bathed in perspiration and he was as pale as one of the Hogwarts' ghosts.

Harry retched violently but nothing but blood-stained bile came up. When Severus placed his hand on the boys forehead, he was cold and clammy. Another shiver raced over his skin but this time Severus maintained a firm hold. The boy was in shock. He needed some blood replenishing potion but Severus knew that making him swallow anything at the moment would only make him vomit.

"Potter...Harry, I am not going to hurt you. Professor Dumbledore sent me to check on you. You must keep still or you will exacerbate your injuries."

Harry tried once more to pull away from that restraining hand but then all the fight went out of him and he seemed to deflate. His eyes were screwed tightly shut again, so he didn't see Severus raise his wand. He vaguely felt a soft warm movement of air as his professor softly incanted a gentle cleansing charm after which, his face, though sore and swollen, suddenly felt clean and dry. Another whisper, this time, Episkey, was accompanied by a short, sharp pain and his nose no longer ached with dull throbbing pain that echoed his heartbeats.

The discolouration of multiple bruises was more obvious after the removal of the blood, dirt, sweat and tears. Many of the ugly wounds were still oozing blood but Severus thought the badly broken arm was in most need of immediate attention as it would be difficult to move the boy without immobilizing it at least. The rest of his internal injuries would have to wait until they got back to Hogwarts.

"Lie still, Potter. I'm going to fix your arm."

"You're not a healer," croaked the boy in pain filled tones.

"In fact, I am," replied Severus dispassionately.

Harry lay still, though shivers kept racing over his skin as his professor ran surprisingly gentle hands over the thin, deformed limb. Severus found the nasty break. Harry sucked in a breath and his arm jerked spasmodically. He retched again, grimacing and groaning as the taste of bile filled his mouth. The pain was unbelievable.

"Keep still Potter. The edges of this break are just a whisker short of breaking through your skin." Snape pointed his wand at the fragile skin over  the break. Harry felt intense warmth penetrate his arm and saw through his closed lids a white light so brilliant, it left white streaks on his retinas. White hot needles of pain had Harry screwing his eyes tightly shut and biting his lip. He didn't think there was much to separate the pain of the fracture from the pain of the cure. All of a sudden the agony that wracked every inch of his body and the shock of his most hated professor arriving to help him, overpowered his senses and he drifted off into a semi-conscious state again.

Snape was so immersed in the effort of maintaining the spell that he was not immediately aware of the new presence in the room. It was the swish of something moving rapidly through the air that had Snape spinning around from where he was crouched over Harry's battered and broken form. All he had time to do was raise an arm to protect his head from the forcible descent of some kind of long stick. He closed his eyes in anticipation of the blow...but it never came.

Stupefy! The stick wielding assailant crumpled to the floor in front of the stunned potions master, the weapon falling uselessly to the floor. Severus raised shocked eyes to the figure holding a raised wand standing in the doorway. Remus Lupin stepped over the felled person and knelt down at her head.

"Lupin," said Severus, his voice emerging with a slight croak, and then, with a slightly less caustic tone than it normally would have had when addressing his fellow member of the Order of the Phoenix, he added, "Your timing is for once, impeccable."

"You're welcome, Severus," said Remus dryly, his voice soft and husky.  He turned Severus' would be attacker over and both wizards looked into the  face of a very attractive young woman. Remus looked a little staggered as he stared his fill. He raised his soft brown eyes to Severus' equally stunned face. "I promise that I shall never let on that Severus Snape was nearly brained by a Muggle woman."

Severus ignored the other man as his eyes remained riveted on the unconscious woman's face.

Now that the immediate danger had passed, Remus suddenly became aware of the overpowering smell of blood and fear. His eyes snapped to Harry and he remembered his frantic flight to the boy's side after he had finally returned from his latest mission for the Order and contacted Dumbledore. When Dumbledore had told Remus about his fears for Harry, the younger wizard had immediately Apparated to Privet Drive. He forgot about the Muggle as he scooted across the floor to his best friend's son, staring down at the battered body with horror.

"Harry! In the name of Merlin, what happened to you?"

Remus' voice roused Harry. He moaned and rolled his head so that he was facing Remus. He stared at the familiar face through unfocused eyes.

"Professor Lupin..." he croaked. "Wh...what're you doing here?"

"I've come to help get you out of here Harry. Did your uncle do this to you?"

Harry licked his dry lips and nodded. He shuddered as he remembered his terror in the face of his uncle's rage. "Where's Professor Snape?" he asked through chattering teeth.

"I'm here Potter." Harry's head rolled lethargically towards the sound of the deep, drawling voice. "Would you happen to know who this woman is?" Harry squinted past the bottom of Snape's robes and his booted feet to the figure lying, unconscious on the floor. All he could really see was a pale blur but he could make out the colour of the long hair spread over the floor.

"Erin!" he exclaimed, horrified. He tried to sit up to go to her but Remus stayed his agitated movement with a hand on his shoulder. "What have you done to her?"

"Stay still Harry," ordered Remus. "So you do know this woman?"

Harry took several deep breaths in an effort to ward off the nausea that had risen again as a result of his attempted movement. "She..." he panted. "She's my next door neighbour...my friend. Wh-what happened to her?"

Lupin brushed Harry's sweaty fringe away from his forehead. "It's all right Harry. She'll be fine. You need to concentrate on you at the moment."

But immediately he had spoken-and causing Harry to cry out in shocked surprise-Remus sprang to his feet and both he and Snape spun towards the doorway, their wands drawn and at the ready.  They had both heard the sound of footsteps thundering up the stairs. The two men  practically stood shoulder to shoulder, ready for battle, prepared to protect Harry at all costs.

"Aaaargh!" Mundungus Fletcher practically wet himself when he appeared in the doorway. He bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to drag in a deep breath. His headlong flight had been more than his dodgy ticker should have been expected to take, but to then find the wands of two powerful wizards pointed directly at him had nearly made his heart stutter to a stop.

"Shit! What the ‘ell do you two think ya doing?" His Bassett Hound eyes peered at Remus, who was slowly lowering his wand. "And what are you doin' ‘ere Lupin?" His bloodshot eyes swivelled towards the bloody and battered boy partly visible behind Lupin's legs and the unconscious woman behind Snapes.

His eyes widened, and he darted a nervous glance at Severus' tight, furious features. "What the ‘ell ‘appened to Potter? And who in ‘ades is that?" He pointed a shaking finger at Erin.

"This Muggle and Lupin managed to get past your watch, Fletcher," said Snape in an ominous voice, ignoring Mundungus' question.

"In Mundungus' defence, Severus, I Apparated straight onto the landing. But I am sure this young lady must have walked in the front door."

Fletcher's blood shot eyes shifted warily between the two tall wizards. Snape looked even more menacing than he had outside. Mundungus gulped, his protuberant Adam's Apple bobbing up and down in panic.

"I was still recoverin' from your sudden appearance, Snape," he croaked. "I might'a missed her. But I didn't miss the two figures who flew in on brooms and landed a couple of ‘ouses away. I'd say ya best get out'a here."

Snape had sprung into action before Fletcher had finished speaking. He knelt beside Harry again. The broken arm was incompletely healed so Severus set about conjuring a splint and attaching it.

"Potter, where is your wand?"

Harry's teeth were clenched against the pain as Snape bound his arm but he managed to hiss, "Locked in my trunk, in the cupboard under the stairs."

"Fletcher, retrieve Potter's trunk and Apparate straight to the gates of Hogwarts." Mundungus didn't need telling twice to get the hell out of Dodge.

"Potter, this will hurt like hell so I am going to stun you so that you can't feel it. Apparation with these injuries will be most unpleasant."

Harry looked terrified, his breath was coming in panicked gasps. "No! Please. I need to know what's going on." He threw Lupin a pleading look. "Professor Lupin!"

Remus had been rapidly checking around the room for any stray belongings. All he had found were Harry's broken glasses which he had pocketed, and Hedwig's mercifully empty cage which he put a shrinking charm upon and pocketed also. "It's all right, Harry. Severus is right. You will probably pass out from the pain anyway. Don't worry. I will be right alongside you."

Snape pointed his wand at Harry's chest but before he could incant, Harry yelled, ignoring the pain that sliced through him. "Wait! You can't leave Erin here if there are Death Eaters near by. They'll kill her."

Privately, Severus knew the Death Eaters would do more than that, but all he said was, "Potter you are our priority. We haven't got time to worry about anyone else."

Harry's frantic eyes sought out Remus again. "Please!" he begged and then he knew no more.

Suddenly both Snape and Lupin's heads whipped around towards the doorway. They had both heard noises from downstairs. They exchanged grim looks. Fletcher had Disapparated seconds earlier; they had heard the extra loud pop of his less than expert Disapparation. Snape gathered Harry's slight body into his arms and easily regained his feet.

Remus grabbed Severus' forearm and whispered, "Harry's right, Severus. We can't leave her. They'll do more than kill her.'

"If you wish to play the hero, Lupin, that is up to you," he hissed. "I will see you at Hogwarts." And without further ado, Severus Disapparated.

Remus bent to scoop Erin into his arms but the sound of footsteps thundering up the stairs brought him upright again and he stood in front of the unconscious Muggle with his wand pointed at the doorway, his careworn features resolute.

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When Severus and his burden popped into existence outside the gates of Hogwarts, it was to see Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall hurrying through the darkness towards them, their lit wands illuminating the path ahead. Fletcher was sitting on Potter's trunk, stuffing some more tobacco into the foul pipe that he smoked. He had been eyeing the road furtively in both directions, and when Severus appeared with a soft pop, he cried out in panic and dropped the pipe as he scrabbled desperately for his wand.

"Unprepared again, Fletcher," sneered Severus. He kicked the pipe away into the bushes with a dust coated boot.

"Oi!" screeched the indignant Fletcher, scrabbling after the offensive item, forgetting that he could use a summoning charm.

"That foul thing will be the death of you in more ways than one, as it's in your hand more often than is your wand. And even if it wasn't, the smell of you would alert any half competent Death Eater."

As Severus hoisted the unconscious Harry into a more secure hold, the lock on the gate clicked open and the heavy chains began to unravel, even though Dumbledore and Minerva were still fifty feet away. Mundungus had signalled Dumbledore that he was awaiting admittance as soon as he had arrived outside the gates. He did not have authorisation to enter Hogwarts whenever he wanted, even though he was a member of the Order. Dumbledore had no illusions as to Mundungus' true nature, and would no more allow the man unchecked access to the hall's of Hogwarts than he would fly to the moon on a broomstick.

Severus strode past the still frantically searching sneak thief and kicked the gate open just as the headmaster and his deputy arrived. They looked at the battered boy in Snape's arms, their expressions appalled. Minerva uttered a pained cry which she stifled with her hand but Dumbledore's face hardened, his eyes becoming two chips of blue steel. "So, the signs were correct," he said in a dangerously neutral voice. He kept up with his grim potion master's long strides as they moved quickly towards the castle.

Snape spun around when he heard the clink of metal on metal. Minerva was refastening the gates after Mundungus had slunk through them, guiding Harry's trunk with a hover charm. "Lupin will be here any moment, he called back to the deputy headmistress. "He turned up at the Dursley's." His Stygian black eyes pierced the darkness beyond the gate.

"He should be here by now," he said in a much quieter tone. "He should have been right behind me."

"Minerva, please wait for Remus. If he has not arrived in ten minutes, secure the gates again." Dumbledore strode again after Severus' rapidly retreating form that had now reached the low stone wall that divided the  lawns and gravel drive from the paved courtyard. Two sets of heels clicked on the stones.

"The wards fell, Albus. Death Eaters entered the house."

"I know," Albus said, in a cold, expressionless voice. "Were the Dursley's at home?"

"No. Arabella and Fletcher both said they had all left in their car an hour or so earlier."

"Then I fear for their safety. My protective wards would not have failed if either Petunia or Dudley Dursley were still alive."

Severus spared his friend a quick glance in the dim light of the entrance hall. The old wizard looked particularly grim. Two minutes later, Severus was lowering Harry gently onto a bed and Albus saw the full extent of his injuries in the light cast by several lighted torches on the walls of the hospital wing.

"Sweet Merlin," whispered Albus. "Vernon Dursley did this?" Severus did not need to answer as the injuries marring the young boy's body were quite obviously Muggle in origin.

While Snape set about spelling Harry's remaining clothing off, Dumbledore gently pushed his sweaty fringe off his forehead, revealing the jagged scar that had shaped the child's life since the age of fifteen months.

He shook his head, his wizened face shadowed by sorrow and guilt. "This child's life just goes from bad to worse. It is not enough that Voldemort and his lackeys desperately want him dead; his own uncle has beaten him to within an inch of his life."

The hard, grim expression Snape had glimpsed earlier had now been replaced with one of sorrow and regret. "If only I could make his lot a little easier."

For a couple of minutes, softly spoken incantations were the only sounds heard as Severus expertly wielded his wand to heal the least serious of Harry's injuries...the ones he could heal without the addition of oral potions. It was best the boy remain out of it for as long as possible.

Dumbledore watched Severus' quick, sure movements. As the many cuts and abrasions marring Harry's pale body were replaced by soft, pink scar tissue, both men could see more than a few old scars.

Severus could feel palpable waves of anger radiating from the powerful wizard standing at the foot of Potter's bed. If Vernon Dursley was still alive, the fat Muggle was in for quite a shock. He would have even more of a reason to despise wizards after Dumbledore was finished with him.

I might give the worthless piece of rancid manure a taste of his own medicine myself, Severus thought with pitiless relish.

"I must go and get some potions from the dungeon stores, Albus. I haven't gotten around to replenishing Poppy's stocks as yet. I want Potter's potions as fresh as possible." Severus pulled the bed clothing up to Harry's waist to preserve the boys modesty. He did not want to cover the newly healed lesions just yet and as the air was quite cool, he cast a warming charm. All of Potter's energy was needed for healing purposes, he did not need to be expending energy in an attempt to keep warm.

"I will watch him," said Dumbledore.  Snape swept down the long ward and at the door, he met Minerva who was looking disapproving, as she was in the company of Mundungus. The petty criminal's general air of filthy unkemptness, combined with his strong body odour had never endeared him to any of the female members of the Order, and Minerva was finding being in such close proximity to the man, distasteful. However, it was necessary to keep him close as it was out of the question to leave him alone in the castle.

"Remus failed to show, Severus." The witches voice was as usual, crisp  and no nonsense, but Severus could hear the underlying worry. For a moment, he felt a swift stab of concern himself, but then he remembered what Lupin was. Werewolves could take care of themselves. But could he take care of himself and protect the Muggle at the same time? And Lupin would never forfeit even a Muggle to save himself.

"Lupin can take care of himself," he said in dismissive tones before sweeping down the stairs. He could feel Minerva's disapproval dogging him all the way to his laboratory. He was not aware that he had his teeth clenched tightly together until his jaw started to hurt.

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Severus gathered his supplies automatically, whilst his thoughts dwelled on the Dursley house. What had happened? Why hadn't Lupin been right on his tail? Had the Muggle woman awoken and given him trouble?

Severus discarded that thought almost as soon as it had materialised. He did not doubt the strength of his childhood enemy's Stunning spell. The Muggle would definitely not wake up until somebody woke her up.

So, that left the Death Eaters. They must have arrived before Lupin could gather up the Muggle and Disapparate. And he would not have even considered leaving her behind, despite the fact that she was a Muggle. Severus doubted that he would have been as generous. Even with Potter's entreaty, he would have left the woman behind if she had endangered him. And not because she got past my guard and nearly brained me.

Of course, Lupin was a gallant Gryffindor. He would never have considered leaving the woman behind, simply because she was a Muggle, and therefore incapable of protecting herself against evil men and their Dark Magic.

Side along Disapparation with a non-magical person was a risky business. His own escape with Potter in his arms had been easy enough, even though the boy had been unconscious. His innate magic had combined with Severus' to carry them both safely through the ether. Only strong wizards ever attempted side-along at all, and only those known to be uncommonly skilful would attempt it with a Muggle. If the wizard attempting the Disapparation was not skilful enough, chances were a disastrous splinching would occur, most likely resulting in the Muggle's death.

The preparation for side along Disapparation with a Muggle was more protracted than it was with another magical person in tow. Mental grounding was necessary, and unless you were Albus Dumbledore, it took a few seconds. Precious seconds that could be the difference between life and death...or at the very least, capture.

Severus shook his head, his features grim. Capture for an attractive Muggle female was never pretty. Her rape and torture would be prolonged and death would be a much hoped for release. So, if Lupin and the Muggle had been captured, Snape hoped that Lupin had done the humane thing and killed her before the Dark Lord's minions had a chance to play with her.

Severus prepared to Floo back to the Hospital Wing. He had decided to walk down to the dungeon laboratory earlier because he had needed time to compose himself, and Potter was out of immediate danger. Lupin's non-appearance was definitely not good, but only time would tell what had transpired there.

But he would very much like to know what had transpired at Potter's home. Why had he been beaten so badly? Severus knew that the boy could drive the white ants out of the wood but he also knew that nothing...absolutely nothing could warrant a child being beaten to within an inch of his life, no matter the transgression.

The brutality of the attack on Potter was one thing. The Dursley father and son were both gross specimens of humanity-much bigger than Potter, who had definitely not weighed what Severus would have expected a sixteen year old to weigh. He knew the boy had hardly eaten any meals over the last week of school following the debacle at the Ministry.

He had watched him. Potter had sat with his friends, and either the Weasley girl, or Granger, after her release from the hospital wing, had served him up meals, and he had pretended to eat them. A mouthful or two had been the extent of his nourishment. If the other two thirds of the Golden Triumvirate, or the Weasley girl had gotten too heavy with him, he had just left them to their meals and left the Great Hall. To their credit, the girls and the Weasley sidekick had always followed him. It seemed they had been loathe to let Potter wallow in his misery.

Potter had always been finely built, always one of the smaller boys in his year. But after the shock of seeing him broken and battered and covered in blood, and after attending to the most pressing problems-and before the Muggle had nearly brained him-Severus had been surprised at just how malnourished the boy had looked. And then, hefting him into his arms had proven that Potter was definitely underweight. Sixteen year old males, even finely built ones, should weigh more than the average twelve year old.

Had the boy still not had an appetite, or had the Dursleys starved him as well as beaten him? The malnutrition was something that would have to be dealt with, or Potter would not be able to heal properly. 

Severus pointed his wand at the grate and a small fire erupted. He threw some powder into the flames and a second later, he stepped into Poppy's office. He had bought everything he thought he would need for the boy for the next few days and it had all been carefully placed inside a bag that Severus used when the pockets of his robes were insufficiently capacious enough to hold all he needed.

Dumbledore and Minerva were sitting next to a still unconscious Harry when Severus re-joined them. They were speaking in quiet tones. To Severus' surprise, Fawkes, the Phoenix was perched on the bed-head, preening himself industriously. Immediately, Severus could see that the fresh, pink scar left after he had healed the nasty welt that had snaked from the boys ear to his throat, was completely gone.

"I did not think that the child needed another scar around his face," said Dumbledore quietly. "The one that he has is enough to be going on with, I think." Fawkes spread his magnificent wings and soared the few feet to land on Dumbledore's shoulder. He nibbled Dumbledore's ear, let out a melodious trill and took off through one of the open windows.

Severus supposed he was glad of the bird's intervention. The welt had been wide and deep and the resulting scar would have been far from pretty. It would have been a nasty blemish for a sixteen year old to live with. And Potter did have enough problems to be going on with, without being self conscious about his appearance. Especially as it was more than likely that the likes of Draco Malfoy would have taken every opportunity to taunt Potter about the unsightly blemish.

Severus unloaded the phials and jars he had bought onto the bedside table. "Where's Fletcher?" he asked, relieved to see that the filthy wizard was nowhere in sight.

"Dobby has very kindly taken him to the kitchens for a feed," answered Dumbledore. Minerva's audible sniff and pursed lips indicated that she disapproved.

"I think a bath would have been more suited to what Mundungus Fletcher needs," she bit out. Dumbledore chuckled and even Severus lips twitched for the first time since this whole ugly business had started.

"Mundungus is a grown man, my dear Minerva," said Dumbledore. "And if he wishes to get around looking like a rag bag and smelling like a drain, that is up to him. I fear a bath would be a pointless exercise, anyway. That tobacco he favours would undo any improvement that soap and water might make the first time he lit that pipe."

"I don't know why you keep him around, Albus. He has proved himself untrustworthy on more than one occasion."

"He is useful at times."

Severus decided that it was time to wake Harry, but before he could point his wand, a commotion in the hallway beyond the door had him spinning around and Minerva and Dumbledore springing to their feet. Lupin staggered through the doorway looking the worse for wear, and carrying the unconscious Muggle. Minerva cried out and both she and Dumbledore rushed forward to help.

Dumbledore relieved Remus of his burden and Minerva guided the clearly exhausted man to the bed opposite Harry. His robes were torn and bloodstained in places.

"What happened?" Severus was at his side and had banished the robes and the bloody shirt beneath in an instant. There was a large, deep gash that was bleeding copiously below Lupin's ribs and more than one bruise where different curses had made contact.

"The Death Eaters were a little quicker than I anticipated," said Remus tiredly. He hitched in a breath when Severus pointed his wand at the gash and incanted the spell he had used earlier on Potter. The torn muscle burned as it began to mend from the inside out. After about thirty seconds, the skin melded together and the only indication that there had been a gash was an ugly, upraised, angry, pink scar. As Lupin's body was littered with so many scars anyway, one more made no difference. Lupin was beyond caring, and Severus certainly didn't.

Remus watched through exhausted eyes as Severus stalked across the room and picked up a squat jar from a bedside table. Harry was lying, still unconscious in the bed and Remus suddenly felt guilty for having neglected to inquire about him before now. "How is he?" he asked, nodding his head towards Harry when Severus had returned to his side

"He will survive to nearly die another day," said Severus dryly.

"Severus Snape!" Minerva snapped from the bedside where Dumbledore had placed the young woman. She shot a disgusted look at Severus which he ignored with supreme indifference. So then she turned her anger on Remus. "And just who is this woman, Remus? Is she a Muggle?"

Lupin had closed his eyes whilst Severus covered the smaller cuts and the bruises with the salve. The cool tingling that was the trademark of Dittany replaced the pain and made him sigh with relief. "Yes, Minerva. She is a Muggle and she is, apparently, Harry's neighbour."

"But why on earth is she here? And why is she unconscious?"

"I stunned her," said Remus, slightly shamefacedly, "and I couldn't leave her to the tender mercies of the Death Eaters."

"You stunned her?" Dumbledore repeated, but his voice was interested rather than reproving.

"I'm afraid so. It seems she was looking out for Harry and she had managed to get all the way into the bedroom while Severus was tending Harry. She was armed..."

"Armed," interrupted Minerva, shocked. "Armed with what?"

"I'm not really sure what it was. Some sort of long heavy stick with a curved, flattened end."

"And you could not separate her from this stick without stunning her?" Minerva's voice was incredulous, but before Remus could continue, Severus stepped in.

His voice was acerbic. "You were not there, Minerva, so kindly do not presume that you could have done things better..."

"Now, now children." Dumbledore held up a hand. "Perhaps you can elaborate, Severus." Minerva looked even more disapproving at being lumped in with the children.

"Of course, Albus," sneered Severus. "I have nothing more pressing to do than indulge in pointless reminiscences."

"We know how busy you are, my boy, and your patient load has just increased three fold as our rather attractive young lady seems to have suffered some spell damage herself..."

"What!" Remus sprang upright but Severus pushed him back against the pillows with a growl.

"Nothing too serious, I am sure, Remus, but I am eager to hear what else transpired at Privet Drive."

Finished attending to Lupin's wounds, Severus stalked to the bed where his would be assailant had been lain. Severus had seen, even as Lupin had staggered into the room with her in his arms that she had bloodstains on her clothes, but he had just assumed that it was her rescuer's blood. Her slim legs were encased in those hideously ugly, and decidedly unfeminine jeans that Muggles and young wizards, male and female, seemed to find so indispensable. There was a long slash in one of the jeans' legs at thigh level and blood had soaked the fabric.

The white, knobbly knit jumper she wore was rucked up, exposing an area of skin on her stomach. Minerva was in the process of straightening the jumper, pulling it downwards, presumably to preserve the woman's modesty, when Severus noticed some heavy discolouration on the strip of skin between jeans and jumper. He reached out a long fingered hand to stay Minerva's fussing and then he pushed the lower edge of the jumper up higher. The contusion was as big as his hand, purple in colour but with mottled reddish splotches. The bruise extended around to the woman's back, and Severus pushed her gently onto her uninjured side and examined her more thoroughly. Minerva and Dumbledore silently watched him.

"Is she all right, Severus?" asked Remus worriedly.

Severus did not answer immediately as he concentrated on his task, gently prodding the discoloured skin. He allowed her to roll onto her back again and then he palpated her abdomen. After about twenty seconds more of silence, he said, "It would appear she has been caught by the tail end of the curse that almost split you asunder.

"Minerva," said Severus, over his shoulder as he went to retrieve the jar of Dittany from Remus' bedside table. "...could you please banish those ridiculous jeans so that I can deal with that gash?"

Minerva looked at Remus-who was now lying with his forearm over his eyes-and then at Albus. She did not want to strip the young woman in front of the men, so before banishing the jeans, she summoned a screen to erect around the bed.

Dumbledore got the hint and went to sit with Remus, where he quietly began asking questions about what had happened after Severus had left Privet Drive.

Severus spread a liberal amount of the moss-green ointment on the bruise and it had started to fade before he had even finished. Minerva, in the meantime had divested the Muggle of the jeans. Though the wound was still bleeding, Minerva cleaned up the dried blood with her wand and covered the wound to stop the fresh blood dripping onto the sheets, now that the denim was no longer there to absorb it.

Minerva wished that Poppy was here because though she knew Severus was a fully qualified healer-more qualified in fact, than Poppy who was a matron-she would have felt more comfortable with a female attending to the young woman. Severus was not often called upon to use his skills as a healer, certainly not here at Hogwarts, at least.

Minerva knew the young witches within the school wore modern, Muggle underwear, but she was rarely confronted by it. Poppy would see much more than she ever did. So, the elderly witch was more than a little taken aback by the skimpy plum coloured underpants that the young woman had on. Minerva felt the urge to conjure a hospital gown, but Severus was still attending to the bruise and he would not appreciate her covering up all of the exposed skin-and there seemed to be quite a lot of it-that was on display.

If Severus, as staid and straight-laced a wizard as Minerva had ever known, was distracted by the bounty of bare female flesh before him, he did not let on. With a face as impassive as a blank sheet of parchment, and using the spell he had used on Remus, he healed the gash on the shapely thigh, then after applying Dittany to minimise the scaring, he left Minerva to clothe the Muggle and make her comfortable.

Severus did not have time to admire the attributes laid bare before him. He knew the Muggle was attractive; he had seen that back at Privet Drive. It had been quite a while since he had seen even a partially naked female; the last time had been in circumstances instigated by the Dark Lord, and he had been too busy feeling nauseated by what his fellow Death Eaters had been doing to admire the young bodies that, by the end of the revel, had resembled nothing more than slabs of raw meat.

This particular mass murder and torture of a family of Muggle females, a mother and her sixteen year old, identical triplet daughters, had been a mere two days before the Dark Lord's downfall.

It had been a while since he had been forced to join in the "fun", as he had taken great pains to convince the Dark Lord long before his downfall that to be successful at his potion making, his flesh had to remain unsullied by blood letting. He had endured several bouts of the Cruciatus Curse over several days but when his stance had remained firm, the Dark Lord had become bored and finally decided to let his "faithful" servant do the jobs he did best-make potions, and be on hand to attend to the injured amongst his faithful. He did insist, however, that Severus at least attend the revels when ordered to do so.

Being forced to watch had been torture every time, and though the relatively disinterested activity of observation should have acquitted him of any liability, the guilt he had felt had been enough to solidify the stain already marring his soul.

Albus watched, his eyes sad as the young man he had come to care for and respect, and whose early life had been rife with deprivation and desolation, practically stumbled out from behind the screen surrounding their Muggle guest and stalked across the room to Harry's bed.

Albus was probably the only one who knew even a portion of the details of Severus' time as a servant of the wizard whose oversized ego had led to him fashioning himself the title of "Lord Voldemort". And though the young man never spoke of it, Albus also knew how much his past deeds ate away at Severus...knew he thought he was not deserving of absolution, and refused to consider the possibility that all his actions since joining the fight against Voldemort were sufficient to allow, if not self forgiveness, then at least self acceptance.

One of Albus' greatest fears was that the boy would not rest until he had made the ultimate sacrifice as penance for his past deeds...giving up his own life. Severus was always careful because he knew his contribution to the side of the Light were invaluable. But he was unheeding of his own safety, indifferent to his ultimate survival.

Albus' heart ached for the young wizard's troubled soul.

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Harry's first sensation was, unfortunately, pain. He groaned aloud, too frightened to move. But his back was killing him and he needed to ease it.

Slowly, he arched his back, holding his breath, waiting for the pain to slice through him. But it didn't. Oh, sure, it hurt, but he could cope with this. How come he didn't feel like every cell in his body was going to scream in agony?

With an effort, he cracked his eyes open. His lids felt like they had lead weights attached to them. His vision was even worse than normal, his eyes seemed to be coated with mucous. The first blurry image he tried to focus on was a red-yellow light that seemed to flicker but before his brain could interpret what it was he was looking at, another of his senses was assaulted.

"Potter!"

Oh, no! Snape. Harry snapped his eyes closed again, the gesture entirely defensive.

Suddenly, Harry's brain was overloaded with flashes of images and sensations. Visual, auditory and tactile. And interspersed with these three, the overlying pain that he seemed to have been living with for ever, to some degree of other.

Everything replayed in rapid sequence: Having lunch with Erin, meeting Aunt Petunia and Dudley, Uncle Vernon and his murderous rage, waking to horrific pain, fear, the sound of Snape's voice, more fear and pain, Remus' voice, relief, seeing Erin unconscious, more fear-and then nothing.

Nothing until now.

"Potter! Open your eyes."

He was at Hogwarts. Uncle Vernon couldn't touch him here. He should be OK now, right? But Snape was here. Maybe that wasn't strictly ‘out of the frying pan, into the fire'; after all, Snape had never beaten him-he had squeezed his arm so hard, it had cut off his circulation, he had shaken him, thrown him to the floor and thrown a glass jar full of dead cockroaches at him-but beaten him, no.

You deserved that and more Harry. Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and cracked his eyes open again, as ordered. The blurred face that he saw was not surrounded by a curtain of black hair. It was surrounded by long silvery hair and a beard. Dumbledore!

Harry squeezed his eyes tightly again and gathering his nerve, he raised his arms to try and rub the gunk out of them. The pain he was braced for didn't materialise. There was discomfort, but it was nothing compared to what it had been. Relieved beyond measure, he carefully levered himself into a sitting position and Dumbledore arranged his pillows as a back rest.

"Welcome back, Harry. You've been in the wars, my boy." Harry could tell his headmaster was smiling but his voice sounded weary and sad.

"Well, you know me Professor," croaked Harry. "I wouldn't want to upset the status quo."

Dumbledore chuckled and squeezed Harry's shoulder. "That you can joke about what you have been through just reinforces for me what a remarkable young man you are, my boy."

The snort that came from behind Dumbledore was definitely compliments of Snape and it did nothing to stem the hot blood rising in Harry's cheeks. It always mortified him when the headmaster said things like that, but it seemed Snape was hugely amused. Well, it was no secret that Snape hated him; the whole school knew that.

After last year, when Harry had thought that the headmaster had wiped him out of his life, he could only be relieved that things seemed to be back to normal now, even if the cost of normality was too high. Sirius was gone for ever. But even knowing what Dumbledore had been keeping from him for the whole of his life, Harry could not remain bitter. He didn't want to. Dumbledore had been trying to protect him from a terrible truth; he had wanted Harry to live as normal a life as possible, until he was old enough to cope with the knowledge that he had to kill or be killed. And, he had kind of made up for the neglect of last year when he had told Harry that he cared for him.

Snape's voice was full of derision when he sneered, "If you have finished chairing this meeting of the Harry Potter Fan Club, Headmaster, you may wish to move aside so that I can administer these very necessary potions."

Harry couldn't believe how Snape was talking to the headmaster and neither, apparently could Professor McGonagall, who was standing on the other side of the bed. Her presence had come to light when Harry heard, ‘Professor Snape!' spoken in the Deputy Headmistress' strictest, no-nonsense tone.

She had been glaring at Snape, but when Harry whipped his head around, she smiled at him. He could see that the smile was more than the usual, perfunctory turning up of the corners of her mouth. She actually reached out a gentle hand and pushed his fringe off his forehead. Harry couldn't help it...he flinched, just barely. But it was enough to make his professor with- draw her hand quickly. Harry saw the three wizards around his bed exchange looks.

Great! They think I'm a nutter.

Severus thought it was hardly surprising that Potter had flinched away from Minerva's touch. The only surprise was that the boy was still in the bed and not cowering in a heap on the floor. The degree of torture he had just been through would have been enough to have most men cowering. What, between Vernon Dursley and the Dark Lord, Harry Potter was lucky to be alive.

He handed the boy one phial of potion at a time and without question, Harry drank them down, managing to do so without pulling the gruesome faces that usually accompanied their ingestion. The boy was the very definition of Gryffindor pride and stubbornness. Dumbledore and Minerva looked on with fond pride, as if the foolish child had just defeated the Dark Lord a second time.

"Why don't you two go and rest?" said Severus in neutral tones as he took the empty phials and put them back in his bag.. "It's hardly necessary for all of us to be here now that Potter is out of danger and Lupin is back safely." In actual fact, Severus was concerned for the older witch and wizard, Dumbledore in particular. The old coot didn't know when to stop.

Harry-who was beginning to droop, as one of the potions had been Dreamless Sleep-now snapped to attention again. ‘Remus is here?' He forced himself further upright and automatically reached out a hand to the bedside table where he patted around for a few seconds, nearly knocking the water bottle over.

"What are you doing Potter?"

Harry widened his eyes in an attempt to keep them from closing. "My glasses. Where are they?"

Severus whipped the pillows out from behind Harry. "You will be asleep in a moment, so your glasses are superfluous to needs."

"But..." Harry's speech was rapidly becoming slurred. "...I need to shee Remush." He did not realise it, but he was sliding down the bed. He was asleep before he was fully horizontal.

Severus put his wand away and turned to see the amused looks on his two companions faces. "I always find that actions speak louder than words with stubborn Gryffindors." He pinned them both with a beady eye. "All, stubborn Gryffindors, no matter their age."

Minerva drew herself up and looked as if she would like nothing better than to take young Severus Snape over her knee, but Dumbledore looked as serene as ever, though extremely weary.

"Your concern is appreciated, Severus but I am expecting Alastor and Nymphadora. They are following up the Dursley's for me. If it turns out that Petunia and Dudley Dursley are safe and well-and of course, I hope this is the case..." Severus scowled at this pronouncement and Minerva sniffed, "...we have to find out why Voldemort was able to get past the blood protection at the Dursley home."

Dumbledore made sure that Harry was well covered, as the night had turned quite cool. Then he turned away and took out his wand, pointing it towards the end of the ward where there was a large area between the last bed and the wall dividing Poppy's office from the ward. As Severus watched, impressed as ever with this amazing wizard's effortless magic, a small table and three of Dumbledore's signature chintz armchairs appeared.

"After we have some tea, I think we should wake our very attractive guest." Dumbledore walked towards the table and though he was as upright as ever, his step was slow. Minerva hurried along at his side, a worried frown on her face.

"Albus, do you think it wise to wake her just now. She is a Muggle, after all."

Dumbledore looked supremely unconcerned as he pointed his wand towards Poppy's office and his silver Phoenix Patronus swept from the end of his wand and disappeared through the lifeless grate.

"My dear Minerva," he said wearily, sinking into one of the deep, comfortable armchairs, "the young lady has been unconscious for quite long enough."

Minerva was not convinced and she launched into her reasons as to why the Muggle should not be woken inside Hogwarts. Severus, who had stalked into Poppy's dispensary and was arranging the rest of the phials and jars he had bought through from his laboratory in the glass fronted cabinets, listened to the argument-though argument didn't really describe what was taking place between Minerva and Albus. It was rather difficult to have an argument with someone as determinedly unruffled as Albus Dumbledore.

"Minerva, as the girl is already inside the castle, the protective spells that convince Muggles that they are looking at a highly unstable and dangerous ruin are no longer in effect. She will see what we see."

"My point exactly, Albus. This is hardly a modern ward in a modern Muggle hospital." Minerva swept her hand down her deep green robes. "And we..." she gestured with her head to include Albus, "...are most definitely not what she would be expecting to see in any hospital."

"Perhaps not. But it will be obvious to her that we mean her no harm."

Minerva threw up her arms. "But she will remember what happened at Privet Drive."

"No doubt."

"Albus! See sense!"

A very old, slightly dented silver tea-service shimmered into existence on the table along with three cups and saucers and a platter of mixed sandwiches.

"Ah, good." Dumbledore clapped his hands together. He looked as pleased as a child confronted by an ice-cream sundae. He picked up a sandwich and bit it in half. Minerva threw her arms up again and turned to see Severus standing in the doorway, a smirk on his face. It was so nice to watch someone else pushed to the brink of insanity by the infuriating old coot.

"Say something, Severus. I think he's delirious with fatigue."

Dumbledore popped the last bite of a smoked salmon and cucumber sandwich in his mouth and chewing with evident relish, he picked up the teapot and began pouring. He waved at the empty chairs with his free hand and after swallowing, he said, "Sit Minerva. You too Severus. Have a cup of tea and something to eat. I think we all need to unwind."

Minerva opened her mouth again but Dumbledore held up his hand, this time to stop his deputy in her stride. "Minerva, sit down. It is past midnight and we have all been stressed badly today. You need to relax."

Minerva was obviously ready to chew nails but she could also see a lost cause when it stared her in the face and she grudgingly sat down and picked up a fine china cup decorated with roses and filled with deep burgundy tea, just the way she liked it.

Severus took a cup also but he did not sit down. He looked over at Potter, but the boy was in a sound sleep, his young face for once, free of tension. He looked at Lupin and he too was sleeping soundly, but his face was still careworn, even in sleep. The werewolf was his own age but he looked as though he had lived ten lifetimes to Severus' one. And Severus' own life had not been easy.

The only noise for several minutes was that of clinking china,  Dumbledore chewing and the odd sniff of disapproval from Minerva. Finally, with a sigh of contentment, Dumbledore put his empty cup down and folded his hands across his stomach.

"That was most refreshing. Now that I have my second wind, we will attend to the young lady." Minerva's lips thinned but she refrained from belabouring the point anymore. She did follow Dumbledore though. Severus too, followed. At Erin's bedside, they all gazed at her for several seconds.

Then, without further ado, Dumbledore took out his wand, pointed it at Erin's chest and said quietly, but firmly, Enervate.