"… Umm, so, I was beginning to feel really weak in the end of August. Mom was worried, so she took me to see a doctor, Tomvole." Harry wrinkled his nose. He didn't spare any love to the name Tom, or the likes of his. "He said that maybe I should try to get a blood donation, since he thought that I have some problem with it. I received one or two, and it helped a little bit, so he sent my blood to further examination. And then I was diagnosed."

Dudley stumbled on his words as he tried to explain the tale of his disease. Harry sympathized him. He could only imagine what he'll say if Snape will ask him to talk about a fragile subject, such as the night in the Graveyard.

"Which date?" Snape asked, his gritted teeth physically biting back a comment on Dudley's lack of coherent vocabulary.

"Ugh, probably around the middle of September?"

"So accurate and useful. Enlighten me with how such an astute lad such as yourself wasn't diagnosed as a gifted student instead of one with Leukemia."

And sure, Snape's sarcastic comments had not contributed to the situation. He seemed even further vindictive towards Dudley than towards Harry himself – well, at least in the last few days. And that meant a lot.

"And Doctor Tomvole was exclusively in charge of your prognosis?" Dudley nodded.

Harry took comfort in the fact that at least Snape's nastier remarks, which implied that "a pinch of Angel's Trumpet and Belladonna in his milk bottle could've spared the world of the global malnutrition mare's nest", passed above his head. An image of Snape floated in front of his mind; his usual sulky self tries to poison Dudley's milk bottle during one of Petunia's typically sugar-coated tea parties. The fact that the three of them rested together around the kitchen's table had only made the reverie more tangible.

He tried to hide his snort behind a pretense of a coughing fit, which caused a shake in his upper body. Harry trembled when a sting of pain passed through the bruise from Vernon's cane. His façade didn't work well and Snape stared at him, a sneer on his face. "Seems like our cherished Mr. Potter is enthusiastic to contribute his perspicacity insights to the conversation, don't you?"

Harry made a noncommitting noise and stealthily placed his palm on the front of his chest, trying to still it. Snape's practiced pupils immediately followed the subtle change of posture.

"You're wounded." He stated, fathomless eyes locking gazes with Harry. The temporary-hazel color clashed with the usual green. Despite not feeling the usual brush against his mind, Harry decided to break contact, just in case.

"Yes." He simply answered, matching Snape's tone.

"Shirt off."

"No!" Harry exclaimed, wrapping his arms around his body to further illustrate his intention. Snape scowled and with a quick movement raised himself and yanked Harry's left bicep away from his body. The Gryffindor struggled against the hold, still embracing his torso with the right arm. He distanced himself from Snape as much as he could.

Snape didn't try to haul Harry closer and for a moment Harry thought he had won, but then he followed the Slytherin's eyes, which bore into the back of his left knuckle.

"I must not tell lies." Snape read, his tone low and dangerous. His thumbs traced the carved proverb on the skin and Harry shivered, feeling chills passing through his spine. "Is that a blood quill?"

Harry tried desperately to distract him, throwing the first question which crossed his mind. "Sir, your Patronus, why did it – "

"Potter." Snape warned. "Do not endeavor to outwit me. You'd make an abysmal Slytherin." Harry couldn't agree more, despite some hats might have some counterclaims. "Is. That. A. Blood. Quill?" He repeated slowly. Harry saw no point in lying, so he nodded numbly.

"Was it…" Snape began to ask, but his voice trailed off as a sudden series of cracks echoed between the walls of Number 4 Privet Drive. Both his and Harry's instincts took over them as they pulled out their alternative wands in a blurry motion. Snape's right arm flew in front of him in a protective manner, knocking him back towards the chair. Harry yelped at the sudden touch, trying to grasp something to stabilize. Sadly, the only thing available was Snape's shirt, and Harry's fingers grasped the fabric, choking the older man.

Snape yanked him back to his feet. "Oh, for Merlin's sake!" he hissed. The distraction in the character of Harry Potter could've cost their life whether a practiced team of Death Eaters chose this moment to attack, but the group which appeared on the front yard was of Order members. Harry recognized Lupin, Tonks, Bill Weasley and even a large, black dog that sprinted towards them, wagging his tail.

Sirius jumped through the broken window and landed on Harry's still aching chest. When he noticed the grimace on Harry's face due to the sudden weight on his bruise, he howled softly, rubbing his head against Harry's shoulder.

Tonks scanned the kitchen with trained Auror eyes, trying to determine whether an immediate danger exist. She made a few motions with her hand and mumbled a few spells, looking determined and dutiful. A blue smoke floated in front of her, taking the form of the house. Six red dots flickered in the kitchen, and one in the upper floor, where his room was. Tonks seemed satisfied with the result.

"Wotcher, Harry." She finally said, her previously serious face managing a smile.  

Harry grinned and his eyes followed Lupin, who spoke quietly with Harry's cousin in the corner. Bill took it upon himself to do the explaining. "We were at the headquarters." He clarified, lowering his wand. "We came as soon as we were alerted." He nudged Harry towards a chair and turned around, only to face Vernon's limp body.

"Pretty nasty attack." Bill remarked as he poked Uncle Vernon with the pointy head of his shoe. He didn't seem very sorry for the obese man and Harry wondered how much did Ron, Fred and George told their family about his rescue mission over the second year's summer.

The redhead petrified the nurse, mumbling something about making less reasons for the Ministry to interfere.

"Yeah, I guess." Harry sighed, but a wet lick from Sirius on his cheek managed to make him smile. "Yuck, Padfoot!" he scowled and the dog exposed his teeth happily, licking him again with his dampen pink tongue, then caught his shirt with his teeth and raised it, barking.

"Harry, you're hurt." Bill noticed and scratched his chin with the tip of his wand. "Take a look at it, Tonks."

"Gotta warn you, although I provide the guitars, I'm no Weird Sisters." She answered lightly and lowered herself on the chair next to Harry, beginning to examine the big purple stain on his chest. She ran her wand across his chest, muttering some healing spells that Harry had never heard of. He must ask her to teach him those things. It could be really useful.

Then, he flushed, suddenly aware that a girl was staring at his naked chest. Sirius seemed to notice his uneasiness and barked playingly in response, somehow managing to wiggle his ears with a knowing look.

Fortunately, Bill seemed unaware of the exchange. After Tonks finished and emptied her sit, touring the kitchen, he lowered himself next to Harry. Bill told him what Dumbledore alerted them of (mainly that Harry and his family were attacked by three Death Eaters during a standard medical procedure).

"And his friend." Dudley suddenly squeaked aloud, for the first time since the Order's arrival. Lupin, who finished their hushed conversation from before, raised his glance from his place on the floor, where he took care of Uncle Vernon. The battered man slowly recovered.

Harry scanned his surroundings, suddenly aware that Snape had disappeared.

Bill nodded. "Well, yes. Now that you remind of it, we should probably check for the friend that Dumbledore reminded. Is he still upstairs, Tonks?"

The woman jumped and dropped a muggle kettle which she examined incredulously. "What? Yes, I think." She repeated her actions and the red dot on the upper floor stayed in the same spot.

Harry stared at the model of the house, considering the situation with a frown. It wasn't a very Snapish thing to stay for such a long time over one place and let go of his previous interrogation of Harry, just because some Order members arrived. And why hadn't Dumbledore notified the Order that Snape was with him, instead mentioning an anonymous 'friend'? Where exactly are the two other Death Eaters? And Where is the real Aunt Petunia?

The questions flooded his brain, making him feel dizzy. Or perhaps it was the lack of water; the last time he drank was the incident with Umbridge.

When Tonks came down from the upper floor, her face lacking of the usual happiness, it was clear that the only person which could answer Harry's questions was no longer in the house.

"Remus, call Snape. Petunia Dursley was poisoned." She told Lupin. Sirius barked. "I know you don't like him, but – "

"SNAPE?!" Vernon raised himself from the floor, gripping the refrigerator, his face color matching Bill's hair. "Under no circumstances! That freak won't lay his foot under my roof!"

The room was stricken silent and Harry could hear a crow that cried outside. Lupin was the first to recover. "Mr. Dursley," he began softly. "You have been through a great trauma, but your wife is in a grave danger. Severus Snape is the only available person with the relevant qualifications to take care of her."

Vernon became redder. "Relevant qualifications!" he echoed, his spit staining Lupin's buttoned shirt. "My wife prefers to die than having this queer over here! Not to mention you – your freakish lot! Breaking into my house, doing a mambo-jambo of waving with sticks! Look what you've done to my little Dudders!"

Harry's curiosity gained ahold of him. He handed Vernon's cane towards him. Usually it was enough to make him feel in control. "Uncle Vernon, sir," he asked politely, yet assertively. "How do you know Snape?"

Vernon answered, his tone still outraged, but his face no longer mask of loathing. "Your mom was his friend. They grew up together." Suddenly, his fingers twitched around the rod, as if imagining to strangle an invisible throat. "Such a fitting pair, the freak and the whore. A shame she had found herself a different queer – "

Before Vernon could finish his sentence, Sirius' teeth were on his throat. Hell broke lose around the house as both the muggles and the wizards tried to separate the quarrel.

Excluding Harry, who gaped at the place where Vernon's mouth was before, speaking the incredulous words.

Snape was half-blood. He said so to Umbridge.

He also has a persona, Johnathan Prince.

He was a friend of Harry's mom.

Dry, sarcastic humor. Sharp tongue.

A prodigy in Potions.

A small voice inside his brain whispered that Snape would be pleased to know that he'd finally managed to drill some deducting abilities and Potions' knowledge through his thick skull.