But the Dursley’s did not, eventually, let Harry come back inside, nor did they take his collar off. Aunt Petunia would come every evening (with some exceptions) to give him some water and a little food, obviously table scraps. She also came once a week to hose him off, wrinkling her nose as she did so at his (apparently) offensive smell. And Uncle Vernon came once a week just before trash day to empty his waste bucket, which Harry usually left at the corner of the garage near the shed. Dudley came to taunt him on occasion the first couple of weeks, but he soon either grew bored or was warned off by his parents, and so Harry stopped seeing him.

When the end of the summer drew near, Vernon and Petunia debated what to do about Harry. Should they consider him warned, let him back inside, and let him go to school? But no, it was too risky that he would tell someone about his summer. And at this point, they knew, there would be no excusing or explaining away their behavior. Never mind that the child was impossible, and always doing freaky things -- no one would understand, or believe, their desperation. And so they told all of the neighbors that their nephew was now attending St. Brutus’ Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys, year-round, and told Harry’s former school that they would be sending him to an alternate school to deal with the behavior issues he was exhibiting at home.

And when word reached Arabella Figg, the kind and somewhat forgetful old cat lady, she smiled and thought to herself that Minerva had finally convinced Albus and Harry had been taken away from his relatives, ‘the worst kind of muggles.’ He most likely had taken him to Hogwarts to start some early training. And so she thought little of it, or of the fact that she had never been told such a thing by Dumbledore (he was always so secretive), and instead occupied her time with her cats.

As the weather grew colder, the Dursleys (rather kindly, they thought) left Harry some warmer sweatpants and a winter coat with a hood, and Vernon was so considerate as to briefly unchain Harry to allow him to put the pants on (after a couple of days had gone by and he thought of it). They even threw a wool blanket into his doghouse, and ignored the grass that he had pulled up and stuffed inside of the doghouse for further insulation.

And Harry continued listening to the sounds and conversations around him, even if he could not partake in them. He sometimes heard the TV in the Dursleys’ house or in the neighbor’s if it was loud enough, and caught snatches of occasional conversations. By the time he realized that school had started and that the Dursleys were not letting him loose, he was too afraid of the shock to call for help, and too convinced that no adult would ever care for him enough to help him. He grew afraid of his uncle and aunt, shrinking as far away as possible when they entered his little section of the yard, although his green eyes remained defiant when he would occasionally meet theirs. His glasses broke at some point, and he wished he could at least ask for some tape to hold them together. But it had long since been ingrained in him not to speak, or to make a sound, other than the sibilant hiss of the snake language.

When it grew cold outside, Harry would will himself to stay warm as he slept, curling into a ball in his doghouse and imagining a fire building in his belly and spreading warmth out to his fingers and toes. And when the sun grew hot in the summer, he willed the shadows of the garage or the fence to stretch, so that even at noon he still had just enough shade to huddle in and keep cool. And on nights when there was no moon, when the dark seemed to press in on him, he found that a little light would appear in the ceiling of the doghouse, if he thought about it hard enough.

Sihatha kept her promise and did not abandon him, except for the cold months of the winter when she disappeared underground. But she came back to him in the spring after the first winter, and again after the second winter. And Harry decided that she must have told other snakes about him, for soon he was receiving more and more snakes who came to see the curious “Speaker Hiss,” as they called him. And they would hold meandering conversations with him that were frequently full of random pauses, interruptions, and tangents. Although he wished for a human to speak to, aside from the couple of words his aunt or uncle would occasionally say to him, the snakes staved off his loneliness some. Yet each time he watched them slither away under the fence, he would yearn to follow them, and he would get up and pace around the perimeter of his little section of the yard, bored and restless and frustrated.

xxXxx

"Ah, Severus," Dumbledore called cheerily as a tall and thin man in black robes entered his office.

"You had something you wished to speak to me about, Headmaster?" Severus Snape asked smoothly, his hands clasped loosely before him and his face impassive.

"Yes, yes." Dumbledore said, sitting behind his desk and gesturing for Severus to seat himself. "Tea? Or perhaps a lemon drop?" he offered.

Severus' lip curled. "No, thank you. What is this about?"

"Ah, to business then." Dumbledore steepled his fingers. "Minerva has brought it to my attention that Harry Potter has evidently not received his letter, and it has already been sent twice. When I flooed Arabella Figg to ask her if she knew of anything amiss, I found her… well, she did not seem to be quite all there.”

Severus crossed his arms over his chest, hoping that he was misreading where the Headmaster seemed to be headed. “And what does this have to do with me?” he asked.

“I need you to check on Harry and deliver his letter to him. It may be that nothing is wrong at all, but I would be remiss if I did not make sure. As it is, I am already concerned about the veracity of the reports I have been receiving lately from Arabella.” Dumbledore’s piercing blue eyes met Severus’ obsidian ones, and they were devoid of their usual twinkle.

“Headmaster, surely Minerva would be better suited, I am not the sort of person to roll out the welcome wagon,” Severus argued, though he knew it was a losing battle.

“Welcome wagon?” Dumbledore asked, clearly amused.

“Muggle saying,” Severus grumbled, annoyed.

“I see. Well, as much as Minerva would likely love to go, she already has her hands full with the acceptance letters and with the expected visits to muggleborn children. We did not expect to need to make this particular visit. And before you can suggest it, you know that both Filius and Pomona are currently out of the country.”

Severus ground his teeth in frustration, but he knew that there would be no dissuading Dumbledore now that he had decided on this path. “Fine. I will go tomorrow morning. Should I retrieve the letter from Minerva?”

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled again. “Yes, that would be fine. Report back if there are any issues. Oh, and if you would be so kind as to take him to Diagon Alley while you are at it, I am sure his relatives would appreciate it.”

Severus jerked his head angrily, then stood up and swept out of the room.

xxXxx

The next morning, the residents of Privet Drive looked out their windows to see a tall figure in a billowing black… was that a cape?… striding down the street. His black hair hung in curtains to his shoulders, and if they had looked closely they would have seen that his nose was long and hooked, his skin sallow, and his eyes dark and serious. Overall, he looked a bit like a large, ominous bat, and mothers drew their children back from the windows, away from ‘that strange man out there'.

Severus Snape swept up the street, peering at the numbers of the identical houses, and searching for number four. He had sneered when he first read the address written on the Potter boy’s letter. Doghouse, indeed. Such a plebeian name for one’s bedroom. He marched up the steps to number four when he found it and rang the bell without hesitation.

He heard pounding footsteps inside and then the door was flung open unceremoniously in front of him by a particularly rotund boy with a half of a doughnut clutched in his pudgy fist.

The boy looked him up and down and then said, “What do you want?”

Severus sneered. This had better not be Potter. “I am here for Harry Potter.”

The boy’s eyes widened and he turned around and thundered back down the hall, screaming, “Mum!!”

At this obviously welcoming gesture, Severus stepped inside, glancing around. The parts of the house that he could see (the foyer, dining area, and a small part of the kitchen) were unnaturally spotless and stark. The walls of the foyer were covered in pictures. Severus picked out a woman he presumed to be Petunia Dursley, née Evans, whose horsey face resembled the teenager he remembered, as well as the chubby boy who had answered the door, at various ages, and he imagined the... wide... man with the walrus mustache must be Mr. Dursley. But Potter had a cousin, so where was the second child in these pictures?

His musings were interrupted by the appearance of Petunia Dursley herself. She took one look at him and immediately screeched, "Out! Out! We'll have none of your lot here! You're not welcome!"

Severus smirked. "Is that anyway to treat an old childhood friend?"

Petunia stared at him for a moment, and then her nose wrinkled slightly. "You," she breathed. "I remember you. You're that Snape boy. Well, you're still not welcome."

"Trust me, Petunia, I have no desire to stay longer than strictly necessary. I merely need to see Harry Potter to ensure he receives his letter, and take him to get his school supplies."

"No." Petunia was shaking her head now. "No, he'll not be going. We swore when we took him in we would stamp out that... that... nonsense, that rubbish, that freakishness. No. He'll not be going."

Severus' annoyance was turning into anger now, with a tinge of dread mixed in. What did she mean, stamp out the freakishness? "I am afraid you do not have much of a choice. The child belongs in our world. He will be coming to Hogwarts. Now where. Is. He?"

At this, Petunia began to look frightened. "He's... He's out... at a friend's..." Her eyes darted from side to side as she said this.

Severus narrowed his eyes. "Why do I not believe you?" he hissed smoothly, stepping forward.

"No! I won't tell you! We had no choice, the boy was out of control!" Petunia was backing into the wall now as Severus continued to advance.

"If you will not tell me, I will pry it from your mind," he informed her coldly, then incanted, "Legilimens.”

Staring into and past Petunia’s eyes, Severus searched for recent memories about her nephew, then began reaching farther back in time, and what he found sickened him. Finally tearing his eyes away, he moved swiftly towards the back door and out into the yard, sending a Patronus to Hogwarts as he went. Inside, he was reeling as his carefully-built assumptions, the wall of anger he had built between himself and Harry Potter, had just been torn down. His annoyance at the boy had turned into righteous anger for him, and he began chanting in his mind I should not kill her. I should not kill her. Murder is wrong. Albus would be furious. I should not kill her.

Picking his way over shovels and a lawnmower by the shed and then rounding the corner of the garage, he found a small boy huddled with his knees to his chest in the shade of the fence. When he heard Severus approach, he shot up and began scrambling back towards the corner where a doghouse stood, his body language clearly demonstrating fear even as his eyes -- which never left Severus, although he did not make eye contact -- flashed with defiance.

Severus stopped and raised his hands in the universal sign for ‘I mean no harm.’ He took slow, careful steps forward until he was within five yards of the boy trembling by the doghouse. Then he crouched down, trying to make himself as unintimidating as possible and hoping that Harry might calm down slightly if he was patient. He was afraid that getting any closer might spook the boy, and was hoping -- although it seemed like a long shot -- that he might be able to coax Harry into coming towards him. He began examining Harry as he murmured soft words of assurance.

Harry was quite a miserable sight. He was incredibly skinny, although it was difficult to get a clear gauge of his weight under the oversized clothes, and very small for his age. His dark hair was matted and hung down around his chin. Severus could tell even from this distance that there were some sores on his neck around the collar, and glancing down at where the chain disappeared under his tattered pant leg, he imagined there would be more around his ankle.

Glancing around to try to help Harry feel less threatened, he noticed that this section of the yard, in complete contrast to the rest, was almost entirely dirt, with only some sparse greenery towards the center. By the corner of the garage closer to the shed, flies buzzed around a bucket. There was a stake that had been drilled deep into the side of the garage at a height just above his own head, and a sturdy-looking chain hung down from it. The fence was high enough that no neighbor would be able to see over it, and there were no windows on this side of the garage. Overall, it was a surprisingly crafty set-up.

Severus was still murmuring to the child as he shifted his attention back towards him. He kept his face turned away and used mainly his peripherals to watch as Harry slowly stopped trembling and began to look almost… curious, even as he remained hunched in on himself. Curiosity was a good sign. Perhaps the child was not as far gone as he had feared.

Severus eventually faced back towards Harry and said to him, “I am not going to harm you, Harry, I am here to rescue you, to take you away from here. Would you like that?” Then he had a sudden, scary thought. “Can you understand me?”

The pause was long enough that Severus grew afraid that the answer might be ‘no,’ but Harry finally gave him the tiniest of nods, his green eyes flicking quickly up towards Severus’ own before fixating back on the man's hands.

Severus smiled reassuringly. “Good, good job. Can you come towards me now? It is ok, I will not harm you, I want to heal you and take you away from here, to somewhere safe. Would you like that?”

Harry stared at him for another long moment before giving him another tiny nod. His shoulders relaxed minisculely, but just enough that Severus noticed. Then Harry’s eyes flicked towards the stake in the garage wall briefly, then back to Severus, and to the stake, and back again.

Severus got the impression that he was either debating to himself how trustworthy the strange man was, or he was trying to ask him a question. He chose to answer the question.

“Yes, Harry, I will take you off of that chain. I will take that collar off of your neck also. But you have to come towards me first, Harry. You can do it, just a few steps.”

Again, Harry stared at him for a long moment, then reached up tentatively with his right hand and fingered the black box on the front of the collar, sending Severus a questioning look.

“Yes, Harry, that is right, you just need to walk towards me. It is ok, you can take your time, as slowly as you like, you just need to walk towards me.”

Incredibly, Harry took a tentative, tiny step forward, then stopped and stared at Severus as though making sure he had not moved. Severus felt like whooping for joy, a rather uncharacteristic thought to be sure, but contented himself to simply keep murmuring reassurances and keep his own body as relaxed and non-threatening as possible. He watched as Harry slowly took another tiny step forward, and then another, pausing between each.

After what felt like hours, Harry finally stood just beyond an arm’s reach of Severus. His shoulders were hunched, and he was faced partially away as though he was trying to present a smaller target or was preparing to flee, but his eyes remained steadily on Severus’ hands.

Deciding that it would be best to free him of the ankle chain first, as it was in a much less vulnerable -- and therefore less frightening -- area, Severus softly asked, “Can you stretch your right ankle towards me, just a bit? So that I can reach it to unlock it?”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Harry shifted his weight and inched his foot forward.

When he judged it to be within his reach, Severus nodded encouragingly at the boy and said, “I am going to reach towards your foot now to unlock it, is that ok?”

Harry gave him another tiny nod, although he tensed up slightly.

Nodding, Severus slowly reached his right hand, with his wand hidden up his sleeve, towards the proffered foot. Once he was nearly touching the boy’s ankle, he lifted up the pant just a bit and performed a nonverbal unlocking charm. With more gentleness than he knew he possessed, he carefully peeled the cuff away from the raw skin, gratified when Harry twitched but did not flee at his ministrations.

Finished, he slowly withdrew his hand, then looked back up at Harry and met the wide green eyes. Harry’s face looked torn between fear, anguish, and hope, and his eyes were bright with unshed tears.

Speechless for just a moment at what looked like the beginnings of a shaky trust in Harry’s eyes, Severus recovered himself and softly said, “I am going to stand up now, so that I can reach your neck. Will that be ok?”

Harry stared into his eyes for a moment before giving him another tiny nod.

Even slower than he had reached for Harry's ankle, Severus rose to his feet and then cautiously lifted his right hand towards Harry’s neck, watching carefully for signs of additional distress. Miraculously, Harry stayed perfectly still, his eyes never leaving Severus’ hand.

When his hand was at the collar, he said, "I am just going to reach behind you for the clasp." He slowly took a careful step to his right, and Harry's head followed him. Biting back a sigh, he told him, "I need you to face forward so I can reach the lock. It's ok Harry, I want to help you."

Trembling slightly, Harry turned his head to face forward again, but his eyes were kept on Severus' arm. Severus stretched his hand behind Harry's neck, watching as Harry tensed but did not move, and he performed another silent unlocking charm. He gently felt for the loose end of the padlock and carefully worked it free. When he finally pulled it away, Harry immediately took several quick steps backward and brought his hands up behind his neck, scrabbling at the clasp of the collar.

"Whoa, whoa, easy now, it is ok," Severus said, remaining where he was so as not to spook the child further. "Careful there, you do not want to hurt yourself. Can I help you, please? I want to help you take that off."

But Harry ignored him, continuing to frantically work at the collar. Eventually, he tore it off and tossed it away from him into the dirt. He ran back over to the doghouse and huddled in the corner between it and the fence. He drew his legs back up to his chest and hugged them, his head buried in his knees and his shoulders shaking, and Severus could see that the nails on his right hand looked like they might be slightly bloody.

Severus sighed silently and crouched back down, beginning to murmur soothingly again. He wanted to comfort the boy, and desperately needed to bring him to a healer, but he was loathe to frighten him any further by approaching without his knowledge. He debated the merits of putting a sleep charm on him and carrying him away, but worried about his reaction when he woke up in an unfamiliar place, especially since he thought he might have built just the barest beginnings of trust between them. He also worried about the best way to get the child back to Hogwarts awake. How could he explain magical transportation to the child in such a state, and how could he expect him to fare under the unpleasantness of apparition, portkey, the floo network, or the Knight Bus?

After what felt like a very long time, but may have been only minutes, Harry's shaking stopped. A couple minutes later, he looked back up and met Severus' eyes.

"Will you let me take you away from here, Harry?" Severus asked gently.

Harry gave him one of his characteristic long pauses before nodding his head slightly.

"May I come over there?"

Harry's eyes widened a bit and he shook his head quickly.

Severus held back his sigh and asked, "Will you come over here then?"

Another long moment and Harry carefully stood up and took a few steps towards him, then stopped before taking another couple of shuffling steps. Severus stood up very slowly as Harry took the last two steps to bring him just out of Severus arms' reach.

Severus nodded slowly and said, "I need to bring you to a safe place, ok? The way we get there is very quick but very unpleasant, do you understand?"

Harry's green eyes looked curious and a bit confused, but he nodded.

"Good. So you have a choice. You can either go to sleep and when you wake up you will be in a new safe place, or you can stay awake but it will be a bit unpleasant and maybe a bit scary, but the feeling will go away in just a few seconds. Do you understand?"

Now there was fear mixed with confusion in Harry's eyes, but he nodded again. Severus hoped he actually did understand.

"Good. So if you want to stay awake, I want you to clap your hands together like this," Severus demonstrated, "and if you want to sleep I want you to pat your legs like this," again he demonstrated. He assumed that Harry would not be ready yet for talking, but was also a bit worried that nodding was an ingrained response, so he had tried to come up with signals that would help him know whether Harry actually understood.

Harry almost immediately tapped his hands together in a tentative, silent clap.

"You are sure?” Severus checked.

Harry nodded and tapped his hands together again.

“Very well.” Here is the tricky part. “You will need to hold on to my arm. We will disappear for a moment and it will feel… rather strange. Then we will reappear somewhere new, and from there we will have to walk just a little ways to our destination. But you will need to hold on to my arm until I tell you to let go. Do you think you can do that?"

Harry looked scared but determined as he nodded.

"Ok. Then please take my arm." Severus held perfectly still as Harry tentatively took another step forward, reached out his left hand, and held Severus' right forearm in a vice grip, keeping him at arms' length. But before Severus could turn on the spot and take them away from there, he saw out of the corner of his left eye that Petunia was rounding the corner of the garage.

Immediately, Harry bolted behind Severus, maintaining his grip on his arm and keeping Severus between him and his aunt. But he peered out around Severus slightly, and Severus again saw that strange mixture of submission and defiance in his body language.

Petunia wrinkled her nose at them and said imperiously, “Fine then. Take the boy. And good riddance. But don’t bring him back here.”