His arrival back at Hogwarts was not marked by panic and fanfare. He made it to the front doors without meeting even a shadow. He walked up three flights of stairs in eerie silence, knowing tat this semblance of peace would be broken, very soon.

He walked into the hospital wing, and all ell broke loose.

Pomphrey, McGonagall, Hagrid and Sprout all rushed forward before the doors had even closed behind him. Hagrid’s booming ”Yeh’ broug’ ‘him, P’fessor,’ caused Harry to flinch, and before he’d even spared a thought he’d pulled his wand.

Everyone froze. Severus couldn’t really care though, for the tiny wizard in his arms had a death grip on his neck. “Step back,” he said slowly. “All of you.”

Minerva was the first to recover. “Severus really,” she began, only to come face to tip with the potion’s master’s ebony wand. Pursing her lips, she took the obligatory step bck, and all the other teachers followed suit.

Ok, so that hadn’t gone so bad. Now, to get Harry onto a bed, and seen to by Poppy.

“Madame Pomphrey, if you would, I do believe this little boy needs to be checked over.” He shifted his wand so that it was held close to his wrist, and rubbed circles in the boys back. He felt the child tense, then relax, and thought to himself that maybe the boy hadn’t a clue what it felt like to be soothed.

Pushing that train of thought away, he followed the muttering mediwitch further into the wing and next to a bed. All attempts to place the still silent child on said bed, however, failed miserably, and Severus had to draw on reserves of patience he didn’t even know he possessed.

Finally, with a sharp motion form Poppy, Severus was seated on the cool hospital mattress, Harry seated in his lap. Sparing a repressing glare to all teachers present lest they dare laugh at his predicament, Severus settled, and concentrated on removing the little boy’s face from the front of his robes.

Poppy, it seemed, wasn’t goin to wait on him. While he spoke quietly to the child, she stood over them both, waving her wand anc collecting the readings. With each sheet of materialized parchment, her frown became deeper, and Severus was sorely tempted not to rip the lot of tem from her hands and read them himself.

“I don’t suppose you’d mind telling me just what displeases you so, Madame Mediwitch?” he asked in his silkiest displeased voice.

Poppy hardly spared him a glance. “As if you don’t already know. He’s suffering from severe malnutrition, dehydration, a whole list of deficiency diseases – Good heavens, did that vile woman feed this child at all?”

:”No.”

It was a shock, surely. Down near Severus’ chest, a pair of clear green eyes gazed up at the hospital witch, an impassive expression on his young face.

Again, Minerva was the first to recover her shock. “She didn’t feed you, Harry?”

The boy gave her a long look from the corner of his eye, and Severus once again found himself impressed. “Not a’ways,” Harry answered, fiddling with one of Severus’ buttons. “Sometimes I got wha’ Dudders din’ want, or somethi’ a’ needed to frow out.” With every word uttered from Harry’s lips, the rage in the room rose. It was completely incomprehensible that Petunia treated the child, any child that way. It was even more unfathomable that Harry could speak about it like….like it was normal.

Perhaps feeling the tension in the room, Harry took it upon himself to break the heavy silence the adults were all drowning in. “C’n I ‘ave s’milk?” he asked, looking up into the face that had saved him.

Severus blinked, then tightened his grip on the small seven year old. “Yes, yes you may.” He traded a look with Poppy over the boy’s head before calling ”Bob!”

Instantly, with a small ‘crack’, the wrinkly little house elf appeared before him. Harry, like he had for most of the afternoon, gazed at the little elf blankly, before deeming it acceptable and gazing away. Bob, though, became completely enraptured with the small child in the room, and only Severus’ specially patented glare prevented him from hopping about in excitement.

“Master called Bob?” the little creature asked, large grey eyes never leaving Harry.

“Yes,” Severus enunciated, resisting the urge to snarl at the excitable little creature. Now he’d never be able to keep the little vermin out of his quarters. “Bring some milk, Bob, for Harry here. Mind you hurry up, don’t dawdle.”

The elf was gone and back again with a double pop, beaming from ear to ear as he returned. And Severus could see why. Bob hadn’t just appeared with a cup of milk, but also a cheese sandwich, two chocolate chip cookies, a sliced pear and pudding. Severus glared.

“Master Harry is eating lunch, yes?” the elf asked.

Harry, who previously hadn’t been paying attention because Severus’ button just wouldn’t come off, looked up in surprise, which quickly turned into calculated delight, when the elf called his name.

“Issat’ for me?” The boy leaned forward out of Severus’ arms, gazing at the tray with all the devotion reserved for the Muggle Pope. “All for me?”

Bob nodded excitedly, and placed the try on the bed. “All for Master Harry.” The boy just stared at the food from the comfort of Severus’ arms. “Master Harry eats all lunch, yes?” After receiving a rather dazed nod from the boy, Bob beamed, and disappeared.

While Poppy retired to her office to complete paper work, her mouth still set in a grim line, and Minerva towed Hagrid and Sprout from the room, Severus turned his mind to the task at hand. Caring for Harry.

He tipped the child onto the bed, then found himself looking into frightened green eyes. “It’s ok, child. How about you start with the milk, hmm?” His ‘soothing’ voice hadn’t had to be used in a while, not since his second year of teaching when he had to calm down a hysterical first year and coach him down from the ledge in the astronomy tower. In the end, though, he was glad to know it was still in good condition, even if it did result in a slightly calmer Harry eyeing the tray distrustfully.

“Is all mine?” he asked softly.

Severus found himself running a hand through the boy’s hair. “It’s all yours, Harry.”

“Is it bad?”

A familiar wave of anger surged through him, but Severus managed to push it down. “No, it’s not, Harry. We don’t give children bad food here.”

After a long minute of searching his face, Harry decided Severus was telling the truth. Cautiously, the little boy started in on the sandwich. When it wasn’t taken away from him, he graced the potion’s master with a small smile, and turned back to his lunch. Severus breathed a sigh of relief. With luck, the boy would accept every meal as his, without having to be reassured, very soon. The man could hope, after all.