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Blinking his eyes open Harry wished the world would just go back to how it used to be.
He remembered from before, when it was lines and angles, rather than fuzzy soft fog-like blurs.
Putting his glasses on didn't help, not for years, but why would they.
Nothing worked around Harry for very long.
Getting up he got dressed, fingers fumbling with the unfamiliar clasps on his robe, and he silently followed the rest as they headed into breakfast.
Breakfast, where Harry clung to one of the rules he’d had hammered into him all his life.
Harry only gets what's left.
Sitting in a huge space full of swiftly moving blurs, Harry waited patiently but no one ever actually finished, and then it was all gone.
“Not hungry this morning? Nerves I guess, you’ll have to move faster at lunch mate.”
That was the red topped shorter blur called Ron, he had two red topped taller sibling blurs so for now Harry just followed Ron who he knew was in all his own classes and counted his steps and the turns, but stairs that moved were going to be hell, he already knew it.
*
“Mr Potter, where would I look if I needed a bezoar?”
Professors in Hogwarts seemed to all be tall and black, unlike his last school where they were all different shapes and he could learn who they were that way, this one though sounded so -
Disgusted just to be talking to Harry.
Understandable really when he had a freak like him in his class, and Harry tried, tried hard, because he knew how to make words, knew how to speak like a normal person even if he didn't know the answer but the words ran away, his throat and chest ached like fire and only a few wheeezes came out.
Just like always really.
Ever since that day, that moment, the clang echoing though the years from when Dudley’s mum swung and connected when he didn't duck fast enough.
Shoving that moment down Harry stared up where the face should be, a tiny oval of chalk, and shrugged.
Wow, so, thirty points off for disrespect was new.
And then the dreaded words were barked at them all, "Instructions are on the board, what are you waiting for?”
‘My eyes to get better.’ Harry thought to himself very very quietly, but he did all the motions he could guess at by watching the vague people around him, and his book had a few pictures if he got very very close to it, and he did know the simpler words if he went slow enough for them not to twist and fuzz out on him.
Blinking as the heat from the fire and boiling things in it made him woozy, he looked up at the snarl of rage about what he’d made and it was just all mumbling words as the world spun with the smell but then, like a mountain, the blur surged at him and Harry -
Ran
Run hide hide run
His only defense now, hammered into him like some kind of switch, when sight and words fail, when they were going to hurt him for sure, escape was all that was left.
*
Looking blankly where the disgraceful disrespectful brat had disappeared through the classroom door, Severus looked again at the cauldron where it looked like random things had just been thrown in and banished the lot, cauldron as well, and snarled in disgust.
Lily had been a sublime brewster, how sickening her son was just like his father!
*
Running made it worse.
Resolving to hold still and just take the blow next time because he’d gotten lost with no one to follow, and then there was a crashing roar and the air was thick like smoke but tasting like dirt like when Dudley had made him eat a handful of it, thick and choking, he’d tucked his face into his robes and kept going a bit but the place he was ended, and the way back was stones in a big pile with no way through that he could find, and it was dark now.
Black, utter lightless void. Maybe his eyes had given up at last?
He tripped a few times trying to find a way out, and once a rock had fallen with a clatter and hit him really hard on his scar so he'd stumbled and backed up until he hit the far end of the place he was and then, sliding down the wall, he sat down.
In the dark and clattering rock falling choking air blackness.
Rubbing fretfully at the blinding ache, he didn't know what to do.
Slowly though, when his tears slowed and stopped, in the dark and no one yelling at him he began to feel better about it.
Not the pain, cause his forehead was hot and pulsing and he kept having to wipe a trickle of sticky away but the place he was in.
No one was there, just him.
So no one wanted things he couldn't do.
No rules to break no hands to hit, no -
Nothing.
He’d run for a long time, around so many corners, down so many ramps and stairs….. maybe no one would find him.
“I heard you’re supposed to leave a letter, when something like this happens.”
Talking to himself was usually a comfort, at least if no one else could hear and yell about it, but usually no one answered him either.
Why would you leave a letter?
“Ummmm, so no one's sad you died?”
That's stupid.
Harry didn't have an answer for that so he sat quietly.
Well?
“Oh, sorry, didn't know you wanted an answer.”
Yawning as he blinked sightlessly he suddenly wondered, “Can you see?”
Can I what?
“Sorry, I was just wondering if my eyes died all the way or if it was dark in here, sorry.”
A long silent moment finally broke, “It's dark.”
“Oh.”
Answer me!
The voice was mad, but Harry’s voice decided to keep working which was nice, cause angry voices usually made it go away totally, so he said, “I don’t understand.”
Why would you write to anyone when you’re the one dying in a hole in the ground?
“Oh, so they don't feel bad.”
How does a letter keep them from feeling bad?
The utter confusion in the voice made Harry think about it and then conclude, “I don’t know, maybe if you say it was alright and you didn't mind?”
How could you not mind?
Easing down onto the floor, brushing a few of the sharper bits of stone out from under him, Harry said, “I don't know, it's peaceful anyway.”
Get up.
“Why?”
You can not die.
“Yes I can,” Harry argued sleepily, “anyone can die, even a freak like me can manage that trick, people die all the time.”
It made him happy in a way, knowing people died all the time, that even if he was alone now someone else was dying right now too, maybe more than one, maybe a bus was about to go off a cliff or, he yawned again and mumbled, “Ssssssokay, s’okay.”
The voice was screaming now, all about how it wasn't okay, how he was forbidden to die, how dare he …on’t ignore …on’t …come back ….ssss
Harry stopped listening in the cool and the dark and the dust and just, relaxed.
*
The brat wasn't at lunch.
The nightmare child wasn't at dinner either.
Nor was he at breakfast.
Leaning over Severus asked, “Where is Potter?”
Looking over at the gryffindor table Pomona said, “Must have overslept.”
Turning to Minerva he tried again, “WHERE is Potter?”
“Don't bark at me Severus, he must have overslept. I’ll take points off when he does show up, and even more for skipping class yesterday.”
A sudden shock, like stepping down onto a stair that isn't there, or falling when you reach for something, and Severus asked in blank shock, “He skipped class, already?”
“Yes, and I intend to fully make sure it doesn't happen again, once I get my hands on him!”
“He ran out of my class yesterday.”
He said the words carefully, as if tasting each one, and she shrugged and said, “How does that pertain to this conversation?”
Refusing to let her make him feel lesser, the way she so often did, he said, “He wasn't at lunch.”
“S-s-sulking then,” Quirrel said, “o-o-or….”
The defence loser, never teacher, paused then, turning away as Severus waited for something else a child might be doing to be missing like this that wasn't deeply alarming, and then said, “He wasn't at dinner either.”
“Now Severus, I’m sure the boy did eat, you must have missed him in the crowd.”
Standing slowly he looked at the headmaster, guts churning at even having to say the words, “Harry Potter ran out of my class YESTERDAY, has now missed no fewer than three meals, and skipped his classes yesterday.” Leaning his hands on the table he hissed, “Where is he?”
*
They found him, by lunchtime they did find him, still and cool and almost unmoving, face a mess of blood and dust and the tracks of tears, barely breathing.
Severus had watched them rush the brat away, special and spoiled as they all fluttered and exclaimed as expected, but why had HE been the one who had to raise the alarm?
*
Waking up was the biggest disappointment of Harry's entire life, and he'd tried to listen to the voices of the blurs all scolding and yelling but this ears rang sometimes, loud enough to make hearing almost imposible, and he couldn't find his glasses and he was sure to get in desperate trouble over that, and they were tall and loud and faded and blending one into the others so he kept his head down and wheeezed until they left.
The one who remained wasn't any better, making him drink nasty things that did make him feel a bit better and never stopped a constant stream of hard words, like Dudley's mum, on and on and on.
Eventually he got to go, and aimed up this time, finding his dorm by luck rather than design, a shape that could only be Neville, round and short and soft, let Harry know he'd found it as his house mate was almost dancing as he tried to get the portrait to let him in.
Harry didn't know the password either, so he sat down, easily waiting for someone to come in or out, and Neville finally sat down with him, and Harry got to pet his toad, and it was nice.
They both got yelled at, but they got in eventually.
***
“Mate, you gotta eat.”
Dinner and they didn't seem to know the rules but freaks only got what's left.
Ignoring the platter of meat, Harry was surprised when the voice from before said, The brat is right, you must eat.
Leaning over so no one would see or hear, he said, “Freaks only get what's left.”
A feeling of shock, You must eat if you…. Want to …..
“Want to what?”
Follow the rules?
A strong feeling of that not having been what the voice was going to say, Harry said, “But I am following the rules, freaks only get what's left.”
“Mr Potter, why is your plate empty?”
Professor Mcgonagall snatched it up, filled it full, and put it back in front of him and said, “Eat!”
*
He felt so sick.
Because the second rule came into play when he did get food, Eat it all!
Throwing up later he cried a bit, and the voice went away as he crawled into bed, wishing he’d been hidden with the food so he could have saved some of it, instead of all of it being wasted.
In the night his scar hurt too bad to let him keep sleeping, or even stay in the bed, so he got up and went downstairs, sitting as he watched the shifting lights of the fire and the voice came back with a demanding tone.
Tell me the rules.
A command indeed and Harry sighed, “Freaks only get what's left.”
“Food, clothes, time, space, I’m a freak, I only get what’s left.”
“If a freak doesn't obey, it gets locked in the cupboard until it learns better.”
“Or they hit it, and then lock it in, if what it did was really bad.”
“Ummmmm, oh, eat it all.”
“Do anything we tell you too!”
“No questions, that one's really important.”
“Freaks don't deserve nice things, but that's more like…. Just a way things work, not a rule….” Harry trailed off, trying to think of any more but, “Those are the main ones, but new ones show up all the time, oh, earn my keep.”
“That's one too.”
Watching the play of lights and enjoying the warmth he got closer and closer to the flames, remembering how peaceful the dark place was and the voice said, That -
That’s....
Almost as if it was trying to understand something really hard it managed, That's wrong?
“It’s the rules.”
It can't be, those are bad rules, we are good, we are perfect, that cannot be about us…..
“Tell that to Dudley's mum’n dad.”
Who are they?
“The people whose time and space and money and food I take away from.”
Again the listening puzzled pause, How is Dudley related to you?
“Don't know.”
Do you live with them?
“Said so, didn't I?”
No, you said you take from them, and they have stupid rules, you never said you lived with them.
“Huh, sorry, I live in their house, but freaks aren’t part of families, just take up space.
Edging closer again to the fire the voice barked, Back UP!
But no one had to listen to an imaginary voice, so Harry edged closer again, leaning into the heat as it burned across his face, melting the pain of the scar and soothing it a bit.
“Feels nice.” He whispered.
Nice or not you robe is on fire!
“Oh!” Jumping back and flailing at it, his hands burned a bit but he got the fire out and sat back as he cried, no sound because he remembered another rule, and finally manage to say, “Freaks don’t get to cry. Oh, and don't make any noise.”
This is stupid! The voice said, and Harry nodded in total agreement, “I really am.”
*
Following worked, got him to all his classes, and in Defense the teacher was saying something about vampires and Harry remembered something Dudley had said once and asked, "Do vampires drain you dry and kill you?”
“Of course not Mr Potter, why would they?”
Feeling a bit disappointed, he replied, “I heard it somewhere.”
“Then you heard wrong! Vampires as a species are quite a bit different from ordinary humans but that mostly means they simply have strict dietary restrictions and thus are best avoided, not because they might drink you dry but because they are tetchy and might knock you head off in a fit of food craving temper.”
“What about werewolves, do they kill people?”
“Why on earth would you ask that, stupid child, no werewolf will willingly kill someone, most of the time they are normal people and only actually dangerous on only one day a month! They turn into a wolf yes but it’s the disease that drives them to BITE, Mr Potter, not kill, they need to bite to spread the infection!”
“Oh, sorry.” Harry whispered.
“Now, bogarts, the way to recognise - ”
Listening all about bogarts Harry raised his hand and asked, “If someone was tied up and dropped in front of a bogart, would it kill them?”
The blur that was this professor made a strangled sound and said, “Yes, bogarts are emotovores, this species consumes fear and terror initially but given the chance will consume the rest as well so if the victim can not escape then they will eventually die. Is that what you wanted to hear, you loathsome child?”
“Thank you professor.”
It wasn't what he wanted to hear, but it was a way to maybe get the feeling of peace back.
The voice though was having a bit of a problem with it all though.
No, no, I forbid it, you will not do this!
Ignoring it Harry raised his hand one final time, “Where is a bogart?”
The professor snapped the answer and went on, but, in the room right next to charms? That was great, charms was an easy one to find, it was on the ground floor near the great hall.
*
Having no one to ask for rope or to tie him up, Harry decided he probably didn't need it, not if he was willing to just lay on the floor as the bogart ate him.
He’d been afraid most of his life but fear kinda seemed distant now, dim and unimportant and he smiled a bit when the drawer to a desk rattled, going over and opening it without hesitation.
A huge blur, roaring in Dudley’s dads voice, and Harry lay on the floor and let the thing just get on with it.
The blur kept changing though, big little loud soft drippy screechy scrapes and bangs and steps and it was all just noise and blurs and Harry lay waiting to be afraid and then die but….
The floor was cold, which was distracting.
Outside was totally dark now, window a black rectangle rather than a bright one, the floor was hard, his imaginary voice was finally quiet from where it had spent hours screaming at him and the poor bogart now looked like a fuzzy white ball on the floor and it crackled and buzzed in what felt like despair.
Sitting up at last Harry said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you.”
A flare of blurred shapes erupted and Harry watched and nodded but it shrunk down again so he picked it up, put it back in the desk, and patted it before closing the drawer, he’d done enough harm to the poor thing.
Wiping his face cause his stupid scar was bleeding again, he headed to bed. It was a long walk but at least he knew the password and if the stairs played fair he knew the way too.
*
Finding the child on the ground again almost stopped Severus’ heart, he’d only done a point me spell out of stupid curiosity and had near screamed in vexation when it failed to point to gryffindor tower, and had stormed out to find the rule breaking spoilt brat only to relive his nightmare of a dead child!
He’d looked dead, had almost been dead, down in the dark and the dust and it was Severus’ fault, the child had run from him, run and no one cared he’d almost died!
About to spring forward to try and save him, nightmares already haunted him of this same thing, with a burst of relief he saw them move, a surge of rage at the fright almost had him yelling his fury aloud but then….. he saw the unshifted form of a boggart be picked up and put away by an empty eyed child who wiped blood away and stumbled off to bed, moving as if their body weighed ten times what it should.
*
Neville fell off his broom in the learning-to-ride-a-broom class.
Moving blurs and yelling voices and all Harry could think of was broom, rise up on broom…. Then fall.
All the voice seemed to be able to say was NO NO NO I FORBID IT!!! As if noise was gonna make a difference.
Hand raising at his side, Harry whispered "Up." and the broom came to him, and once astride it rose, rose and rose and rose like a dream as the world fell away and he was in the open air and it was bright and sparkling and he laughed, thrilled to feel the wind and freedom and then…. let go, spread his arms, and rolled off into the great wide open.
Aaaaaand the broom rolled right along with him and he wound up still sitting on it a few dozen feet lower down, rather than falling to the quiet place he thought death was going to be.
The voice was making indescribable sounds now, high pitched like screaming but with more bits of words and squeaky bits shoved in, Harry was ignoring it really hard now cause it was really loud!
Blinking in confusion at how he was still on the broom he rose again, let go again, fell off again and failed utterly to die because the broom came with him and caught him and saved him.
Getting mad for the first time, properly angry, he barked at the voice continuing to scream, “Shut up!”
Scrambling to stand on the broom now he lept into space, kicking hard and fell a heart lifting amount but wound up on the damned thing again, side saddle this time rather than astride.
Throwing an absolute screaming tantrum for the first time in his entire life, Harry tried every possible way to get off the broom, including grabbing it and swinging it like he was bashing a fly with it and just wound right back upon it and then Madam Hooch as yelling and they were back on the ground and it was all stupid!
*
Marching in the dark after dinner, Harry didn't care if he got caught, he just wanted the tallest part of the castle, and the astronomy tower was it, flat, low edges, wide open.
Easy.
Impossible class though, not able to see the sky, never mind bloody stars put Harry where he always was, bottom of the class, but at least getting off the damned thing was going to be easy, even if the voice was yowling now, a long endless sound of…. something? Harry didn’t really know other than for some reason it didn't want Harry to jump, but this was going to be easy peasy!
Or it should have been, but this was his third time marching up to it, he was getting really really tired now, and his imaginary voice was mumbling something about getting it out of there, and then locking him in a room? Tying him down and force feeding him?
Nevermind, the voice was just weird. Panting as he made it to the top again, head pounding from all the stairs, this time he ran, as hard as he could, leaping up onto the boundary wall and kicking off hard hard hard and diving into open space and the same damned safety spell caught him again, lowering like a feather as he fought and thrashed through the thick tar feeling only to wind up on his head, and then lowered gently to lay on the ground, safe again.
Looking up at the expanse of ocean dark sky, mind racing to find a different way, he said into the empty air, “I can't swim.”
Leaping up as the voice howled for help, for someone to save it, Harry ran, yelling "I CAN'T SWIM!!!”
Hitting the water, ice cold, splashing gasping slammmming into something huge and slimy he was thrown onto shore again in a breath knocking out of him tumbling rolling fall.
And no matter how hard he tried, the pale mountainous blur in the dark was like a relentless army in the way of his reaching water, simply tossing him bruisingly back to shore every time he tried.
Rolling into a ball at last, Harry wept, silent, longing for the dark.
*
It was official, Harry Potter was categorically, suicidally, insane.
Standing in the dark, watching the child shake, Severus didn't actually know what to do with that information.
*
Waiting for breakfast to be done so he might possibly get a bit of it, the voice said, LIVER AND ONIONS! Tell the table you want the liver and onions because no one eats that so it’s always left over!
Really?”
Yes yes YES hurry!
But I’m just walking to the forest later, why - ” JUST EAT SOMETHING STUPID CHILD!!!
“Okay okay, gosh, you don’t have to yell!”
Bending to the table Harry said, “Hi. Can I have the things no one wants, please?”
That is not what I said, his imaginary voice grumbled but in front of him tons of weird things appeared, all of it food, and the voice said, REMEMBER not to eat too much at once, and to take, look, there, see the….. Roooound yellowish looking thing? Cut a big piece of that and bring it with you, that's it, in that napkin, good.
“Can I eat now?”
Yes, eat, stupid thing that you are.
“I know I am, freaks are always stupid, sorry, can you maybe find someone less stupid to talk to?”
Scar pulsing with pain the voice said, No. and shut up again.
His imaginary voice was weird, but not as weird as acromantulas.
Harry found that out later, when he ignored classes and simply walked outside and into the dark green and brown blur that was the forbidden forest, walking in as straight a line as possible until something killed him.
He wasn't pretending anymore, it wasn't a quiet place he wanted, it was being dead, and he’d heard about the monsters that waited to gobble kids all up and this way at least something might eat him and be happy.
I won't be, you ever think of what you selfish brat?
“No, cause you're imaginary, now, what's that white fog looking stuff?”
If his voice could see, then it could be useful, and it whispered in horror, Acromantula silk, turn around, just, child, Harry, turn around, we don't have to die today, go on, that's it, no, no, NO wrong way go back stupid stupid - ”
Drowning it out wasn't possible so instead Harry just ignored it, walking forward until he was surrounded by squarish blurred shapes about as tall as he was, some of them much bigger even, and a voice said in clear bafflement, “Why does food walk to us?”
“Because I want you to eat me.”
“Please.” Harry added because of being polite.
All the blurs took a step -
Back!
Harry took a step forward, “Please,” he repeated, “you can eat me now, I won't fight any, promise.”
All the blurs were farther away now, and the first voice was sounding weird, “We are what we eat, no one eats crazed prey, go away!”
“No!” Stamping his foot Harry yelled “EAT ME!”
And ran forward which made all the blurs ping in all directions with high panicked cries and crashing bushes noises and in a few seconds only faint sounds of running were to be heard, and he almost tripped over a leg on the ground from where two huge ones must have collided.
Picking it up by its foot end, Harry dragged it with him in a raging temper, planning on throwing it into the lake and making the whatever it was not letting him drown sick with it!
Instead he found the tall narrow blur that was Professor Snape and he didn't even slow down as he held the leg up and shoved it at him and said, “Giant spiders are stupid!”
*
Accepting the leg with confusion, knowing from the size along the spider it came from was five times the child's mass, Severus felt himself make a very undignified noise, and the child that never talked, seemed sometimes to not be able to speak, yelled for ten minutes straight about how stupid giant spiders were and stormed back to the castle.
Leaving Severus holding a two meter long leg and trailing along behind.
*
No one cared.
It was almost, but not quite, as confusing as the suicidal child itself, how no one cared that they were trying to actually remove themselves from this mortal plain.
“It's not like you to exaggerate like this Severus!”
“Surely he didn’t, children don’t do things like that!”
“Honestly Severus, I think I’d notice if one of my students is suicidal, it’s not subtle, is it?”
Remembering himself, Severus knew exactly how subtle suicidal thoughts and tendencies could be, but this was BLATANT!!!
The child threw himself off a broom, cast himself of the astronomy tower, Severus found himself laughing helplessly at the thought, but he’d frightened acromantulas into running away from crazed prey!
And the child, if he thought no one was paying any attention to him, talked to something.
Listening now, he was clearly hearing only one side of an argument, and an argument it was…..
“If you can see the board then read it to me. …… why not? …. That makes no sense, if you're my imaginary voice then helping me……… no, I’m not going to stop trying…… fine, be that way!”
And then the child peered at his book rather than the board, trailing a finger slowly across the lines, mouth moving soundlessly and finally, shamefully, Severus Snape engaged his brain rather than his assumptions, and watched the child as if someone's life depended upon it.
*
“POTTER, remain behind!”
Waiting for the rest of the class to get out he finally said, “Tricsy, bring us lunch please.”
Looking at the child gazing vaguely in his direction, Severus waved a hand in a simple wordless spell, darkening the room down to night time levels, leaving a single spot light behind himself, and said, “Look at me Potter.”
Big green eyes did, raised and staring at Severus who did three things in that moment, the first one, he tried to enter the child's mind with his own, and utterly failed.
Two, he raised a hand and waved it just enough to be noticeable, at head height, as he moved himself carefully to the side.
And three, he lit a faint glow which he left behind as he lowered his hand and moved fully out of the way.
In a dark room, with bad eyes, it would look as if he was still there, staring down, and Harry Potter remained looking up, just as if Severus hadn't moved at all!
Getting close from the side, he crouched down, raised the light level to normal and said, “Look at me.”
Obediently the child did, after a flinch at having him so close, and the reason for it all was clear to see.
Both pupils had almost no reaction to the changed light levels, and were different sizes, the eyes themselves ticking side to side in tiny motions as if scanning, yet, “Mr Potter, can you see at all?”
His heart gripped his throat and tried to strangle him when the child smiled, “Oh yes sir, the shape of you, the shape of things, not the board though, or words or stars, but the book…..”
“I can….. ummm…. kinda see the words?”
“Have you had your health check in the infirmary yet?” Because, if he had, how had this been missed?
“No sir, sorry sir.”
“No matter, how bad is your headache right now?”
Easing the child back a bit and into a chair, he thanked the elf for the tray and handed Potter a cup of tea. “Out of ten, with one being no pain at all, and ten being the worst pain you've ever felt, how is your head?”
“The entire head sir?”
A shiver trailed down Severus’ spine, “All of it, and the worst bit, and tell me the difference please.”
“Okay, sir, all of it's about, ummmmm, six? And my scar is about an eight, but a bit less maybe, so seven and most of seven I guess, sorry sir.”
“Again, no matter.”
Watching the child drink was bad enough as the damned nearer sightless eyes drifted from point to point in the room, but it got worse when he tried to feed him and the child said, as if it was carved in stone, “Oh no sir, I only get what’s left.”
And then winced, raised a hand to his scar and whispered, "It's the rule, yelling isn't gonna make it any different!”
“Potter, no, may I call you Harry, I knew your mother rather well, you see.”
“Did you? Oh sir, how lovely, was she nice?”
Fighting tears Severus managed, “Yes, she was, very nice.”
“Oh good, Dudley’s mum said she was horrible, but she is too so I thought they were the same but then Hagrid said they were both nice, and didn't die in a car crash but he didn't want to say how they did so it's nice you knew her.”
Frowning again he whispered as he rubbed fretfully at the bleeding raw slash across his forehead, "No, I won't ask him, leave me alone if you can't read the board for me!”
“Harry,” Severus asked in dread, “your scar?”
“I know sir, it's very loud, it started when I almost died in that cave in, took me a bit to figure where the voice was coming from, and now it wont shut up.”
Flinching, hand raising to stem the blood suddenly pouring down, “And it hurts more now too.”
“Ah, right, well,” giving the boy a cloth to press to the bleeding wound, “for now, what we are eating is what's left, left from lunch, so you are fully allowed to eat it.”
Are you sure?”
“Of course I am, I’m a potions professor.”
It was perhaps the stupidest thing Severus had ever said in his entire life, but it worked, and the child began to eat, carefully holding the rag to keep from making a mess.
Sending a request to the headmaster's desk for permission to take a student for medical tests to Saint Mungo’s, he got the expected automatic reply and permission because the man was a lazy fool who did things like that - Let me know how it goes, Albus.
Letting the child eat Severus was relieved he’d listened to his fears and not filled the plate because the child ate it all, licked it even, but not as if he was happy about it, like it was one of the rules.
“Do you have to clear your plate Harry?”
“Mmmmhmmmm, ssss’the rule, I get what’s left, and have to eat it all.”
“Right, well, good to know, now, you and I are going to go have your eyes looked at, first I’m going to run a diagnostic, see where the damage is, and then we’ll go have a look.”
“You will drink another cup of tea as I do this bit, okay?”
The child took the tea, and Severus indeed cast a basic diagnostic, which showed untreated head trauma, but he cast something else, and felt himself drain of color even as he ignored it, simply writing a note at an angle no one as short as the child would be able see, sending it ahead to the Magical Possessions and Hauntings department, calling a code red, life threatening possession.
The highest threat level, because something this powerful might kill the child in an instant, but he simply took them by the hand when he got the confirmation of readiness, and cast the floo powder, taking them through to the proper department in an instant.
*
The floo was terrible, but not as bad as getting there, because someone grabbed him and it was a jumble and he was trying to yell and then the world lit on fire and he burned.
*
Looking at the comatose child, and then to the healer who nodded grimly, Severus had to ask again, “Horcrux?”
“Yes, but not like anything I have ever experienced, because no one in their right mind would have put one into a child, and there seems to be no logic to its, well, shape is the wrong word but.....”
They broke the contemplative pause right after by adding in frustration, “No one in their right mind would actually create a horcrux at all!”
“But it is clearly a soul shard, we managed to pull it fourth, capture it into a non organic container, and sent it to a secure location. My colleague at the department of mysteries was thrilled to help, he’s pure mental, pelted over, grabbed the damned thing and just carried it away….”
“By the time they reached the floo the two of them were arguing about abductions and rights and ….”
Shaking her head the healer said, "The damage to the boy is extensive, but not linked to the soul shard, or half soul or part soul, or possession or what not, no, it is all abuse I’m afraid.”
“We did a deep read of the child’s memories to track each injury, especially the head trauma from when he failed to duck fast enough at nine and was hit full force with a frying pan, and we suspect he hit his head on the way down as well.”
“He was on a stool cooking at the time, he has linked burn scars from that incident as well.”
“Added to that he is undernourished, and has several fractures in his forearms from having been grabbed by a big sick bastard, ones that clearly healed on their own.”
“The mind scan shows clearly that he has been severely abused, and as it is now days into term, how in hell is this the first we’ve heard of it?”
“I don’t know.” Severus said somewhat helplessly, “I only noticed through an accident, but someone had to have - ”
“Must have….”
Shaking his head he said, “No one cared, not enough to see, not even when he almost died.”
Rubbing his face with both hands as if he could drive out the image of that still form on the cold hard ground, “Not even when I told them he was trying actively to kill himself."
“Well, at least you did, and you tried but I got child services involved and a full investigation is already underway, into the child's past, and into Hogwarts itself.”
“Alright,” Severus nodded, “what do you need from me?”
“Tell me everything you have ever seen, thought, and or deduced about the child known as Harry Potter, sit down and we’ll begin and once we have your words, if you are willing, we can collect the pensieve memories to go with them.”
Severus was indeed very willing!
*
He’d had terribly strange dreams, all about trees getting up and dancing while someone kept yelling he had to eat them, Eat Them EAT THEM!!!
Stretching Harry yawned, and blinked his eyes open and then smiled, clearly still dreaming then.
Sitting up he thought the dream was very clear and easy to see but quite boring, darkness outside a window, bland room with just his bed in it and two chairs and a table with a stuffed snake on it, which he tugged to himself and cuddled, even if he was breaking one of the big rules, Freaks don’t get toys! but it was his dream so it should be safe enough.
After sitting for what felt like hours waiting for something interesting to happen he curled down into the bed again, holding the hot soft cuddly toy, smiling at the heating charm in it, because he'd never thought about it but magic toys must be miles way better than muggle ones.
Maybe if he didn’t die he could grow up and make toys for a job? Was that even a job? Or did you have to pay to get to do it?
Pondering deeply he fell asleep again.
*
Coming softly in Severus paused, because the child was curled around the snake that he'd bought and put on the table, so must have woken up at some point in the night.
A toy for a child that he now knew had never had one before, no love, no care, just abusive rules he was forced to live by.
A trembling hand covered his mouth, it was nine weeks since he’d brought the child in, nine weeks in which he’d lost his job for overstepping his authority, nine weeks in which he’d filed for unfair dismissal and won a lovely huge bit of lolly from the board of directors trying to manage the scandal of Hogwarts endangering magical children.
Nine weeks in which he'd used the entire situation to get the magical and legal guardianship of a confirmed abused and suicidal child into his name rather than Albus bloody Dumbledore, using reckless endangerment by the entirety of Hogwarts school and staff as the decisive and deciding argument.
The headmaster was still on suspension and house arrest awaiting charges, because it turned out he knew about the possessed scar, wished to study it and its effects upon the child, had in fact placed the child with his muggle aunt so as to be able to reach him easier and with no oversight.
Obliviating muggles was a crime, doing it to a magical child though, a survivor of the last dark lord to attack their world? Now that did get people up in arms!”
Sitting down he just watched, and then smiled when green eyes opened onto the room and muttered, “Still dreaming.”
“Why's that Harry?”
“Hmmm, oh, cause’s’s clear.”
“Ah, that would actually be because you've been asleep for a few weeks, and while you were asleep the hospital fixed your eyes.”
Looking at him in shock Harry asked, “Why?”
“Because you deserve it.”
“No I don’t,” sitting up and rubbing at them, Harry said, “freaks don't get doctors.”
"Ah, perhaps not, but first of all, YOU are not a freak, and in the real world Harry Potter’s do indeed get doctors and help, once you take the bad wizard and all the other bad people out of their life.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Now, how about some breakfast and I’ll tell you about how the two of us are going to live together, and go to Ireland, the Irish School Of Magical Arts, which is quite a bit smaller than Hogwarts, but having already been for an inspection and several interviews, I can honestly say is quite a bit warmer as well, in both senses of the word.”
It also had mental health departments who already knew about Harry's past, and taught to a speed set by the student, rather than a set curriculum, was world renowned and cost an arm and a leg - or an entire unfair-dismissal please-don't-sue-us lump sum of gold - whichever came first, and had hired him on the spot to brew for them, rather than to teach.
Severus could clearly see the long road ahead though when Harry said, “But, no one ever wants me, I’m a freak, freaks don’t get good things.”
Looking him dead in the eyes, so much like his mothers, Severus said. “I do! I deserve good things, even though people told me I was a freak when I was your age, hurt me when I was little, and not so little, but if I deserve good things and am not a freak in any way, then YOU deserve good things and are not a freak in any way either.”
Smiling ever so gently as he took their hand, Severus continued, “That’s one of the new rules you’re going to learn. That everything anyone ever told you is wrong, the rules that they beat into you were wrong, and that you too deserve good things.”
Letting honesty radiate from him, remembering his own long lonely road where Severus had had to teach himself he had worth, had value, deserved just as much good as everyone else in the world, no matter how hard it had been he had eventually taught himself those facts.
And while the child might not understand yet, Severus was looking forward to proving it to him, the way he wished someone had done for him, so long ago.
______________________________________________________________
bonus
Its host was insane, totally and utterly insane!
Carried through the whirling stupidity of wizarding transport, the host was caught, held unmoving, and then it was in a ritual circle with the host spelled into stillness and it could have held on, nothing on earth could shift it unless it agreed to go but as soon as it perceived the soul vessel being offered to it, it lunged for it!
Get it the hell out of the suicidal child!
The spiders had done for it, and as soon as it was free of the fleshly prison it was yelling about how it wasn't dangerous, was friendly, to please for the love of magic herself save it, get it the hell out of there!
And as it was carried away to the department of mysteries, the one carrying it laughed at something it said that would have the child grunting a baffled “Huh?”
With relief it relaxed at last, it was too special for anyone to hurt it, and while it had no memory of who or what it’d been before, this was going to be okay.
After all, the one carrying it had a sense of humor, and was being careful with it.
All it could ask for at this point, hope and a future.
Just like anyone else, really.