Chapter 8
For the rest of the time until the holiday break, Snape stopped ignoring him. Anytime he was in the great hall eating a meal, Harry always knew when Snape was there too by the way he felt eyes on him. Whenever he would turn around to meet those dark eyes, the professor would nod and smirk at him. Harry realized that smirk was the closest Snape would ever come to smiling in public and upon seeing it, he would offer the smallest of smiles back. That was the extent of their interactions in places where more than a few people would see them.
In potions, Snape started to walk past his table again, giving Ron snarky responses if his friend tried to get his attention purely for Harry. The assignments in that class started to earn a “This is not bad, Potter” or a “There is hope that you aren’t as much of a dunderhead as you have been previously acting”. Those were practically praises if Snape said them, so that’s how Harry took them.
A few days before the Christmas holidays began and they would leave on the train, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were in the library finishing up assignments that were due right before the break. He hadn’t told them about going back to the Dursley’s, not quite knowing how to along with the fact that he hadn’t found a good time to.
Sighing, Harry realized that he needed to get it over with. He closed his transfiguration book loud enough to get their attention, but not loud enough for Madam Pince to yell at him over it.
Hermione and Ron both raised their heads to stare at him. He sighed again. “I’m not going to the Burrow for Christmas this year.” Better to rip the band-aid off.
Ron smirked. “Wanting to stay behind to spend time with your dungeon bat, eh?”
Harry blushed and shook his head. “Believe me, I wish.”
“Then why aren’t you going? Is it worry of Voldemort?” Hermione asked quietly.
“No. The, um, Dursley’s want me back.”
Ron chuckled. “Good one, mate. You should’ve picked something more believable. I won’t be mad if you stay behind for Snape if you just say it.”
“Trust me,” Harry responded bitterly. “I would much rather spend the entire break doing potions with Malfoy as my professor. I’m being serious. My aunt wrote to me a few weeks ago. They need me for something that’s happening over break.”
Hermione’s eyes narrowed in concern. “But you don’t have to go, Harry.”
“That’s the thing, ‘Mione. I actually do. If I don’t, I have no doubt that they’ll still be upset by the time summer comes around and I really don’t want to be stuck with that.”
“Well, if we need to, I can get the twins and we can just break you out again,” Ron offered.
Harry smiled at him, remembering the summer before second year. “Totally, mate. If it comes to that, sure.”
That night, Harry had another nightmare about being stuck in the cupboard. He went outside to the tree again. Harry anticipated spending plenty of time being locked in the house over break and he wanted to spend as much time outside before then as possible. Sitting down, he picked a few blades of grass to fidget with.
Harry didn’t want to go. He had no doubt the holiday break would be just as bad as the summer, if not worse. He was much more safer here than he was on Privet Drive. He sighed and started ripping the piece of grass apart. He felt frustrated. Harry wished someone would be able to keep him from having to go. Was it horrible of him to wish for an emergency to happen that required him to be here over the break?
“I do not believe the grass has done something that would warrant such treatment.” Snape sat down next to him. Harry almost hated how Snape was even graceful while lowering himself to the ground.
He looked at his hands. The blades of grass were ripped into many tiny pieces, all of them littering over his trousers. Harry brushed it all off of him. With nothing to fidget with, he noticed some skin coming away from his nails and started pulling at it.
Only seconds later, Snape’s hands were covering his, stopping him. “In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never noticed you picking at your skin. Was it another cupboard nightmare?”
“Yes. Well, no. Kind of?” Harry sighed. “I’m out here because of another one, but it’s not the only reason.” He waited for Snape to push and when the professor stayed silent, he found himself opening his mouth to explain more regardless. “Aunt Petunia needs me back for something over the holiday break. I’ll probably be stuck inside for most of it, so I wanted to come out here before I lose the ability.”
“You realize you don’t really have the ability, don’t you? If I did my job, you would have been given detention and lost house points each time I found you.”
“Guess it’s a good thing you’re partial to me now, huh?” Snape had cuffed him in the back of his head many times before. It always hurt and jolted him, but this one was gentle. It didn’t have the bite it normally did. Harry couldn’t help but to smile a bit.
Snape shook his head at him. “Does this mean you leave tomorrow?” Harry nodded. “I’ll be getting a genuine holiday break after all then.”
It was a testament to how comfortable Harry had gotten around Snape when he pushed the professor’s shoulder in response without even thinking about it. Harry almost froze after, then decided he didn’t care if there was any consequences.
“Make sure to not get into too much trouble, alright, Potter?” Snape’s tone was still light, but Harry could hear the undercurrent of meaning.
“I’ll try.” He always did. It just never worked.
Harry glanced at the professor out of the corner of his eye. Snape was looking out at the water. “Do you have any holiday plans, professor?”
“Only making sure there is no trouble out of the students remaining here and getting the infirmary stocked on potions.”
“That sounds relaxing.”
Snape snorted. “I need you to go back in time to tell the younger version of you that. It only took a soulmate bond for you to actually apply yourself in my class.”
“And it only took a soulmate bond for you to stop being horrible to me at all times,” Harry shot back. A huff was the only response he got.
He sighed. “I don’t want to go back.” The words were whispered, barely audible.
“It will pass quicker than you believe it will.” Snape stood and offered Harry a hand. Harry let Snape help him up. Before Harry could move away, Snape grabbed his shoulders to keep him close. Harry was still shorter than the professor, his forehead the perfect height for Snape to barely have to bend forward. The softest of kisses was placed right in the center of his forehead. Harry closed his eyes. With his lips still against his skin, Snape whispered, “Be safe, Harry.”
Harry didn’t open his eyes when the professor moved away, nor when he was released. He opened his eyes several minutes after he heard Snape’s footsteps walk away. It was cold out, but Harry didn’t notice it for the warmth he felt from the ghost of Snape’s presence.
~-~-~-~-~
He was still contemplating the feel of Snape’s lips when they were halfway to London. Harry had never wondered about them, never even thought about what they would feel like or ruminated about their shape, but that forehead kiss had unlocked something in his brain. Not even the soulmate bond itself had done that.
Hermione’s head landed on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Harry. We’ll be on the way back to Hogwarts before you know it.” He glanced down at her to find her worried eyes on him. “You’ve been distracted since we left the common room. We’ve been trying to get your attention on and off for the last hour.”
She blamed his distraction on him dreading going back to Surrey. Harry wasn’t about to correct her and tell her that he was really thinking about their potions professor’s lips. “Sorry, ‘Mione.”
“What about me?! Where is my apology?” Ron asked indignantly. “You’ve left me practically alone with Hermione for hours.”
Hermione scoffed. “You’ve been left alone with me? I’ve been stuck having to deal with your brainlessness.” Harry laughed at the look on Ron’s face.
They kept on bickering throughout the rest of the train ride, with Harry offering a few well-placed comments that would get them riled up whenever they started calming down.
He wasted no time when they reached the station, offering his goodbyes to his friends and going back through to the muggle side of the station. He had no way of knowing when his aunt or uncle would be there and the last thing he needed was to make them wait. Fortunately, when he walked through, Harry caught sight of Vernon entering the building and he promptly rushed over to him. Vernon stopped upon seeing him and turned back around to walk right out without waiting for him.
The car was running by the time Harry got to it. He sat in the front passenger seat. He’d brought a bag with an extension charm to carry his clothes so that he wouldn’t have to lug his trunk around.
Vernon was quiet for the first half of the drive, but Harry was on edge. He knew that there was a chance that his uncle could explode at any time. He sat with his hands motionless in his lap, his head turned to look out the window. He stayed silent. Engaging Vernon first was never a smart idea. The man had beaten that into him early.
A car swerving into the lane in front of them ruined the silence. “Fuckin’ tossers!" Vernon yelled at the windshield. Harry flinched, naturally. He knew it hadn’t gone unnoticed when Vernon said, “I wasn’t talking to you, you little bitch.”
Harry quietly answered, “Yes, Sir.”
“Shut up, boy. That didn't need a response from you." And so Harry did. He didn’t make a single sound and focused hard on keeping control of any reactions to anything Vernon said or did.
He couldn’t help tensing up as they finally pulled into the driveway on Privet Drive. Harry got out of the car and tried to slowly walk to the door, hoping his uncle would walk on in ahead of him. That usually meant he was safe. But this time, Vernon paused at the front of the car and waved Harry to walk in front of him.
Harry opened the door and attempted to go straight for the staircase, but a hand on the back of his coat held him back. He didn’t even hear the door close. Vernon shoved him against the wall in the entry way, holding him there by the throat. He choked and sputtered, dropping his bag to claw at his uncle’s hand.
“You know why you’re here, boy,” Vernon spat. “I’m going to make sure you remember how we do things here.” A punch to his face had Harry crying out, the sound weak leaving his mouth. When his vision started to black out, Vernon let go of him, causing him to fall in a heap on the floor. His uncle started kicking his side, emphasizing each word he spoke. “I’ll make sure you remember for tonight, freak.” When he was satisfied with the treatment, Vernon kicked Harry once more, but in the face, and grabbed him again, dragging him to the cupboard door.
He didn’t even have any energy to try to protest. Harry just went along weakly. A moment after he was tossed in, his bag followed him. The door shut and he could hear the lock being latched. Harry curled in on himself. It was too close to what always happened in his nightmare. Far too close. Without feeling of his face, he knew he had a black eye. His stomach would be bruised to hell and back too. Harry could only hope it healed before the holiday was over. He didn’t want to have to explain it to anyone, certainly not Snape.
Literal hours later, Harry flinched at the sound of the lock unlatching. When the door opened, he mentally sighed in relief at the sight of Petunia. She scowled at him. “Out.”
Harry winced as he stood, a small gasp of pain leaving him. He remembered how Snape had felt the pain of that cut at the beginning of term and hoped that he didn’t realize it was pain this time.
“Go shower upstairs. A pile of clothes on the counter is waiting for you. Put them on when you’re finished.”
With every step up the stairs, Harry breathed out a small gasp of pain. Inside the bathroom, he was able to get a good look at his face. His right eye was blackening, and there was another bruise on his jaw. Most likely from Vernon’s kick. There were only the hints of bruises where his fingers had pressed into his throat. When he lifted up his shirt, he winced at the areas of black and blue and purple that dotted along his side. His uncle had certainly done a decent job on him.
Harry showered quickly. There was a pair of black dress pants that were slightly too big for him, but there was a belt in the pile to help. The dark blue button up was also too big, but Harry tucked it into the pants. There wasn’t any shoes left, so he put back on his trainers. Like usual, he tried to flatten and style his hair, but it was useless and he didn’t want to waste too much time on it.
He took as deep of a breath as he could take without pain, which wasn’t deep, and walked out of the bathroom. Seeing Vernon waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs with his arms crossed had Harry wanting to go back into the bathroom to hide. That wouldn’t actually save him. In all honesty, it would make it worse.
So he mustered his Gryffindor courage and went down the stairs, keeping himself from wincing or making any sounds of pain. The moment both feet were on the floor, Vernon had him shoved up against the wall again, almost in the same place as earlier. Harry wasn’t able to stop the gasp of pain that left him.
Vernon sneered. “That pain needs to be a reminder for you. I know Petunia told you about the event we’re going to. It’s for the families of criminal scum like you. And you’re going to make sure everyone believes that that’s what we are. Or that pain you feel is only going to be the beginning. Do you understand me?”
Harry choked out, “Yes, Sir.”
His uncle released him. “You will not say a word unless spoken to. You will not mention any of that freakishness you have and you will do exactly as I say.”
Again, Harry said, “Yes, Sir.” He couldn’t respond with anything else. He wouldn’t. To say anything but that could be misconstrued as him arguing or trying to fight back. He knew better.
Vernon stepped away. “Get to the car. Your poor aunt and cousin have been forced to wait for you while you were twiddling your thumbs in my bathroom.”
Harry immediately turned and left the house. Aunt Petunia was already in the passenger seat of the car with Dudley behind her in the backseat. Harry walked around to the driver’s side to get in the backseat that way and Vernon followed him, slamming the door as he got in the car. He was proud at himself for fighting the flinch that tried to show from the sound.
During the whole drive to where the event was being held, Dudley pushed his side, right over where all the bruises were. His jaw stayed clinched the whole time, Harry refusing to make any sounds in response. A particularly hard jab caused a hiss to escape. Dudley laughed and pushed harder. He did his best to keep ignoring his cousin, but every now and then, a sound would escape and it would fuel Dudley to keep going.
The building was a conference center. It was clear from the way that no one outside, yet the lot was filled with cars, that the event had already started. Something told Harry that the lateness was deliberate. His uncle had planned it. He’d probably use some sort of excuse that Harry got into a fight and they had to deal with that, which caused them to be late. He ended up being correct.
When they entered the huge conference room that had the appearance of a ballroom, almost everyone quieted down as they stared at them. Seconds later, whispers started filling the air, most likely about Harry. Being stared at and whispered about is something Harry was used to at Hogwarts, but it was different getting that attention with the Dursley’s at his side. It made him feel gross.
A coworker of his uncle’s approached them and shook Vernon and Dudley’s hand. He gave Harry a look of reproach as he talked to his uncle. For a charity ball for people that was supposed to be like him in the way his family advertised, the people there was sure unwelcoming for them.
As the evening progressed, more and more people came over to talk to them. It seemed that a variety of rumors about what Harry had done to get the black eye was flying around the room. Vernon and Petunia tried to combine as many of them as they could and by the end of the first hour, the primary story was that Harry had tried to murder someone while robbing a bank and he had been beaten up by a heroic bystander.
No one even tried to talk to him, but throughout the night, there was an older man that Harry noticed watching him. The stare was different from the ones everyone else had been giving him. The others stared at him with suspicion. That guy’s look was also suspicious, but it felt off. He never approached them. At least, not until his family was practically lured away.
Some random person told Petunia that there was a photo booth for families and she jumped on dragging Vernon and Dudley over to it. Vernon eyed Harry and then pointedly eyed the floor next to him. Harry got the hint. He wasn’t supposed to move. Not willing to risk more of his uncle’s wrath than he needed to, he stayed standing in the corner they had commandeered as their own. That’s when the older guy approached him.
For the first time, Harry was offered a hand to shake. Hesitantly, he placed his hand in the stranger’s and shook his hand.
“I’m Robert Rines. You are Vernon’s nephew?”
Harry nodded. “Yes, Sir. I’m Harry. It’s nice to meet you.”
The guy eyed his face. “That black eye looks rough. Where’d you get it?”
“I was doing something I wasn’t supposed to. Got hit in the face,” he said with a shrug.
Mr. Rines hummed. “Was that something existing?”
Harry tensed up. “What do you mean, Sir?”
“Exactly as it sounds. I’m not buying the story that’s floating around.” Mr. Rines tilted his head. “Your jaw is also bruised. Does it hurt to talk?”
It did, actually. But Harry wasn’t going to admit it. He shook his head.
“Are you going to tell me why your uncle did that?”
His eyes widened. “It wasn’t my uncle.”
“Then who was it?” Mr. Rines asked calmly, like he knew Harry was lying.
Harry tried to remember more facts from the story Vernon had taken to telling everyone who asked. “It w-was an undercover p-policeman.”
“I am fairly sure your uncle does not work in law enforcement on the side.”
“I can assure you, I do not.” Vernon appeared out of nowhere, causing Harry to jump. “Good evening, Mr. Rines. I apologize if my nephew was bothering you.”
Mr. Rines smiled at Harry, but when he turned that smile to his uncle, it hardened. “Harry wasn’t bothering me in the slightest. In fact, we were having an enlightening conversation.”
Vernon paled. “How so?”
“I was asking him how the bruises appeared on his face. He was telling a compelling story of being targeted by an undercover cop.”
His uncle relaxed and grimaced. “I know,” he said bitterly. “Home for only a day from his boarding school and he’s already gotten into trouble.”
Mr. Rines looked at Harry. “You got home today?”
Before Harry could speak, Vernon nodded and said, “Unfortunately. I’m tempted to find a new school for him. The one he goes to advertises that they can fix people like him, but in all the years he’s been there, they haven’t managed to do anything of the sort.”
“You mean to tell me that the first day he got home, he immediately got into trouble?”
“Sadly. If you’ll excuse me, Sir-“
“No, Vernon. You are not excused.” Mr. Rines’ voice was commanding enough that the room quieted and everyone looked at them. Harry wanted to shrink and hide. His uncle’s face went red. “How did Harry get the bruises?”
“Sir, he got them from a fight that broke out due to him attempting to steal from an establishment.” Vernon’s tone revealed how pissed he was at the questioning.
“He tried to tell me it was a fight as well. I don’t believe either of you.”
“But-“
Mr. Rines held up a hand to stop him, his eyes narrowing at Vernon. “I do not make a habit of employing child abusers, Vernon.”
Vernon sputtered, sounds and spit coming from his mouth in shock, but he didn’t actually say anything.
“I would like you to gather your wife and child. I want the three of you off the premises. Consider this your notice of termination from the company.” Whispers started up around the room again, much like it had when they first arrived. This time, however, Vernon was the center of the attention, not Harry.
Harry hadn’t realized he’d been talking to Vernon’s boss that whole time. He wished he could run away and find a way back to Hogwarts. Even though it was his uncle’s fault for being fired, he had no doubt that the beating waiting for him the moment they were back at the house was going to be the worst he ever received.
Vernon grabbed his wrist and started dragging him towards where Petunia was waiting by the door. Mr. Rines yanked Vernon’s arm away from him. “I said three of you. Not four. Harry will be staying.”
His uncle sneered at his boss right as high pitched screaming started from one side of the room. Half of the ballroom took off running right in their direction, quickly separating Mr. Rines from Harry and Vernon. His uncle wasted no time grabbing him again and pulling him to the exit, where a smiling Dudley had joined Petunia. They ran out the doors in front of them.
Harry’s wrist was aching by the time they reached the car and he had no doubt another bruise would form from Vernon’s grip. His uncle opened the car door and shoved Harry into it, uncaring that he caused his nephew’s head to hit the top of the car hard. He barely had time to make sure his feet were in the car before Vernon slammed the door. By the time his uncle had the vehicle started, his aunt and cousin were both in the car.
On the trip home, Harry was forced to listen to Dudley tell Vernon how he had gotten everyone to panic. Turns out, while everyone was focused on Mr. Rines firing Vernon, Dudley was emptying his bowels in the closed off photo booth and putting it in a bowl. A well-timed swing had the contents flying over the table of food that had been on the opposite side of the room from them, causing everyone to freak out. Vernon was proud. Harry was disgusted. And in pain. He closed his eyes and tried to find as much peace as he could during the car ride. Dudley was too preoccupied with telling his story and getting praise from his parents to keep poking and prodding at him like earlier and Harry knew the peace would be over when they got back to Privet Drive.
He couldn’t help but wonder what Snape could see on the other side of the bond. While he hated the fact of Snape having to come save him, Harry had no doubt that by the time the time break ended, Vernon would push his body to its limits of survival. He had ample time to do it after all now that he was unemployed. When they arrived at the house, Vernon wasted no time making him aware of that.
~-~-~-~-~
Severus was working on restocking potions for Poppy when the first hint of pain came through the bond. The river, which had become that sad dark blue since the students left for break, had streaks of burnt orange. Within seconds, the color overshadowed the blue to the point the sadness disappeared. Minutes later, streaks of lime green started showing through the orange. Fear.
He stopped what he was doing while he watched the river. Severus checked the time. Harry should have been home by then. The river stayed the same, and Severus resolved to watch it. He was almost done with the last batch of antibacterial potions by the time the river changed next, the streaks of green growing to even out with the orange.
It wasn’t the pain coming through that had Severus starting on a batch of pain potions. He had already planned on starting that next. That’s what he told himself, at least.
Right as that finished and the vials were full and stopped up on the counter, the orange brightened to a red, the green also brightening to the point of Severus being almost blinded. Severus didn’t hesitate to go to the fireplace and floo straight to Albus’ office.
The headmaster was at his desk and he looked up at Severus when he entered. “Good evening, my boy. What can I do for you?”
“It’s H-Potter. Something is wrong.”
Albus sighed. “Severus, we discussed this earlier today. Harry tends to get into more trouble at the Dursley’s with not minding his aunt and uncle. I’m sure whatever it is isn’t life threatening.”
“Albus, I know what he’s feeling! He’s terrified and in a lot of pain!” As he spoke, the red darkened to crimson color, streaks of black starting to show. Whatever was happening, it was getting worse. “I give you permission to look and see for yourself,” Severus said, not even bothering to hide how desperate he was.
Another sigh came from the headmaster, but Severus felt Albus gently breaching his mind. He didn’t fight him and guided him straight to the river. Albus observed it for a minute and then receded.
“I agree that the emotions Harry is feeling is intense, but I’m sure nothing too bad is happening. He is safe with his family.”
Severus growled. “Let me go and check. If I get eyes on him and see he is okay, I’ll stop bugging you.”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you his location. It would not be safe for him if you knew.”
“I’ll find it another way, Albus.”
Albus shrugged. “I will not endanger the boy.”
Severus glared at the headmaster. “I will find him. And if he’s been hurt because of this neglect, I will see to it that you regret it.”
Without waiting for a response, Severus flooed back to his quarters and grabbed his cloak. He took off at a run to the exit of the castle, running faster when he got outside. The moment he reached the edge of the castle wards, he apparated on the spot, reappearing at the edge of the Weasley’s den. They had moved back to their precious burrow months ago. If anyone knew where Harry was and might be willing to tell him, it would be them.
He knocked hard on the door. One of the Weasley twins greeted him, a wide smile growing on the boy’s face. It was the kind of smile that he remembered the twins would get when they were really up to something. Fortunately for him, he didn’t have time to deal with whatever it was.
“Do you know where Potter lives during the summer?”
“Hello to you too, professor.” The twin cocked his head at him. “Why do you need Harry’s address? Wouldn’t Dumbledore give it to you if you needed to have it?”
Severus glared at the boy. “Either give it to me or take me to someone who will.”
Fred? Maybe? frowned. “Is it something with his relatives again?”
“Again?” Severus repeated.
Fred, he was sure of it, scratched the back of his neck. “We had to bust him out from their place the summer after his first year. They don’t treat him well. Did something happen?”
“Yes. If you know his address, give it to me. I need to go to him right now.”
The twin peered at him and just as he went to open his mouth impatiently, Fred whispered, “4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. If he needs us, let us know.”
Before Fred had finished listening the address, Severus was already running for the ward line again, the air cracking as he vanished. He found himself in a very uniform neighborhood, all the houses on the block identical. Each yard was perfectly taken care of. The street was quiet. He ran up the short driveway for number 4 and didn’t even bother banging with his fist. In the time it took for him to get there, the river had slowed it’s flow to a near stop, but the crimson red, the bright green, and the black were as vivid as ever.
The door banged open, and he heard surprised yells coming from deeper inside the house. A big, red-faced man ran at him. A barely-there flick of his wrist with a non-verbal stupefy had the man falling against one of the walls. Severus recognized Petunia when she rushed out after what must have been her husband. Not even bothering to speak to her, he put her right with the big oaf of a man.
A whispered “Mum? Dad?” from upstairs captured Severus’ attention and he looked up to see a dark haired boy around Harry’s age peaking around the corner down at him. The boy’s eyes widened and he froze, just like a deer would.
“Where is he?” Severus used the voice that typically had all the first years so frightened, they listened to him the following six.
It worked. The boy pointed a shaking finger down. Severus took it to mean up there near him. “Upstairs?” A head shake. A more emphatic pointing down. “Down here, then?” A nod. “Show me.” Another head shake. Severus glared at the boy. “Now.” The boy scurried down the stairs and turned to go down the small hallway his parents had come from. He paled as he saw his parents, but didn’t stop. Severus followed him, but paused quickly when he was lead to a small door under the stairs.
He remembered Harry talking about the cupboard under the stairs, begging him still half-asleep to be kept out of there. Severus’ anger flared and then grew as he noticed the latch keeping the door locked. He looked at the boy, causing him to flinch away from him. “In there?” A shaky nod. Something told him that what he was about to find would have him close to snapping.. In a rare moment of consideration, he ordered, “Go to your room and no matter what you hear, lock your door. I will come fetch you when I’m finished.”
The boy didn’t need to be told twice. When the sound of a door slamming shut reached him, Snape quickly unlocked the cupboard door and threw it open. The sight within had his vision exploding in anger that was so red, it was almost black.