Year 1 - Chapter 19
At 5:50pm, Harry left the common room and walked the route to Snape’s office. Harry was nervous. His hands were clenched in fists as he strode down the hall, his mind spinning with the possibilities of how this evening would go. Whilst Snape had assured Harry that he was going to help him and that he was sorry for how he’d treated Harry, the boy couldn’t shake that niggling feeling of distrust that he harboured towards adults. Harry was terrified that Snape would go the same way as McGonagall and realise that he was too much trouble and that his problems were too vast and then Snape would abandon him too. But also, a small part of Harry was excited. Albeit, cautiously so, but Harry felt excited none the less. After tonight, Harry might have his voice back.
“Mr Potter. Thank you for coming.” Snape said kindly when Harry entered his office. Harry nodded and took a seat in front of his professor. The small boy shifted anxiously in his seat and pulled at his fingers. Snape saw this behaviour.
“Harry, I know that you must be feeling nervous but please know that I am just wanting to help you. Nothing that happens here will cause you to be punished. I will not give you detention for anything that arises here.” Severus whispered gently, reassuring the child. Harry nodded and began to relax slightly. His shoulders dropped and Severus saw a miniscule amount of tension release in Harry’s jaw.
[Thank you, Professor.] Harry wrote, handing the notepad over the professor. Snape nodded before continuing.
“This is what will be happening tonight. First, I want to talk a little bit about your life at home. I know that Professor McGonagall has spoken to you, but she explained that you left her office at the mention of your home life-” Snape stopped when he saw Harry hugging himself and shaking his head, tears streaming down his paling face. “Harry. It’s ok to be upset. But you must face this. After a conversation, we will move onto trying to unlock your voice.”
Harry was still trembling in his seat as he took in the professor’s explanation.
[It was fine. My home life was fine.] Harry scribbled quickly, hands quivering. Snape read Harry’s words and tutted.
“It was hardly fine, Harry. Whilst I do not know the details, one can put the pieces together and form a picture.” Snape said, gravely. His voice was low, a hint of anger gracing his words. Harry flinched at the tone and stared at the ground. Snape was angry at him – Harry could tell when an adult was angry. Snape watched Harry shrink into himself and noticed how Harry’s eyes, whilst looking at the ground, flicked back and forth, unable to settle anywhere.
“Harry, what just happened?” Snape enquired, confused at the boy’s sudden shutdown.
[I’m sorry. I made you angry. You’re angry at me. I’m too much to handle, I know that. It’s okay if you don’t want to help me anymore]
Snape held his breath as he read Harry’s words and as he did, his heart broke.
“Harry. I’m not angry at you. You are definitely not too much to handle, and I certainly am not going to stop helping you. I am angry at your relatives. I’m angry at the way you have been treated.” The professor reached his hands across the desk, placing them as close to Harry as the fragile boy would allow. The shaking slowed but did not disappear. Harry shrugged but looked at the professor with expectant eyes. Snape released the breath that he didn’t know that he’d been holding and steeled himself to continue the conversation.
“Harry. First, I’m going to cast the same spell that Professor McGonagall told me she used. This will help us to have a conversation without you needing to write everything down.” Snape explained. Harry nodded and Severus flicked his wand in the boy’s direction. Snape noticed the flinch but said nothing of it. Harry felt the familiar magic wash over him and he let out a sigh of relief. He smiled at the Professor.
“Harry. Did you relatives ever hit you?” Snape asked cautiously, ensuring that his words were slow and unaccusatory.
“Only when I deserved it professor!” Harry’s voice rang out. It was desperate and insisting and the boy gripped the arms of the chair, his knuckles turning white. That reply worried Snape – no child deserved to be hit.
“What makes you think that you deserved it?”
“I am bad. If I didn’t do my chores right or burnt the dinner or if I said the wrong thing. But I always deserved it Professor.” Harry insisted.
“I assure you that you don’t. What do they do, Harry?” Severus insisted. Harry cocked his head at his professor’s question, confused.
“What punishments do you receive?” The man clarified. Harry nodded in understanding and thought of what he wanted to say.
“They hit me or kick me. It’s mainly Uncle Vernon but sometimes Aunt Petunia will take a swing with a frying pan or something. It hardly ever makes contact so mainly it’s just her words.” Harry’s voice was quiet and trembling.
“Harry, do you understand that this is not ok. This. Is. Abuse.” Severus said simply. He clenched his fists on his desk and gritted his teeth.
“No. No it is not. It’s discipline!” Harry demanded.
“Tell me. Do they ever treat your cousin like that?” Snape sighed.
“No but that’s because he doesn’t deserve it. He’s not bad. Dudley isn’t a freak.” Harry replied, his eyes glistening.
“You are not a freak Harry. When was the first time they hit you?”
“Not until I was about 4, I think. Before that they just locked me in my cupboard.”
Snape thought back to the cupboard he’d found in the house when he went looking for Harry. He wouldn’t tell Harry that he knew about it – it would only hurt Harry further.
“When did you move out of the cupboard?”
“Move out?” Harry replied, once again cocking his head in confusion.
“Yes Harry. Move out. When did you get a real bedroom?” Snape asked.
“Umm, I didn’t. Freaks don’t get rooms.” Snape held in a gasp again – was their no end to the Dursley’s cruelty?
“You deserve a room Harry because you are not a freak. One last question. When was the last time you remember speaking?” Snape asked his final question, looking at Harry imploringly.
“I don’t remember. I think eventually it just fizzled out over time. I just remember saying less and less as time went on until eventually, I tried one day, and nothing came out. Then I realised that it was probably for the best.” Harry replied sadly. His head dipped and Harry hugged himself again. Snape nodded and allowed Harry to calm himself. Before moving on the next stage of the session, Harry would need to be calm and stable.
After about 5 minutes, Snape opened his mouth to break the comfortable silence. Harry had calmed himself through the self-soothing tactics that the professor had witnessed.
“Harry, are you ready to continue?” Snape asked gently. Harry nodded slowly.
“Excellent. Next, I am going to use a form of magic that allows me to see inside your mind. This will let me pinpoint the moment your mind stopped allowing you to speak and then, together, we can work on unlocking it.” The professor explained slowly, allowing the words to sink in. Snape watched the boy’s face pale, but his trembling didn’t return, which was a good sign.
“So, you would see what I’m thinking?” Harry replied slowly, his voice a whispered hush that was barely audible as it drifted tensely around the room.
“In a way,” Snape began, trying to figure out how to explain occlumency in a way that the boy would understand, “Legilimency is a way of delving into one’s mind whereas occlumency is a way of fortifying one’s mental barriers to hide unwanted memories from either your own or other’s view. I will be using legilimency to explore your mind. Does that make sense?”
The boy thought for a moment and then nodded.
“How will this help me?”
“It is my belief that, due to your trauma, you have unknowingly formed occlumency barriers around your ability to speak. Whilst I can teach you to build these walls, I can also teach you to remove them, and that is what I will be doing with you.” Snape replied, explaining his thought process. Harry nodded again in understanding.
“Ok let’s begin.” Harry whispered, shakily.
“Before we start, you need to understand something. It is likely that you will not have any other barriers so I will be easily able to access your memories. It is not just me that will see them; you will see what I see too. This will be distressing, and you will likely be frightened but I want you to remember, deep down, that you are safe here. No one can hurt you, I promise.” Snape explained sincerely. He was worried that this could throw Harry into a panic attack. Severus had only witnessed one of these panic attacks but if Minerva is to be believed, Harry’s attacks had escalated to him hurting himself and that was something that Severus was not prepared for. But he must forge on if he was to help the boy. Snape raised his wand at the boy and prepared himself for what he was about to see.
“I want you to think of the first time your voice failed you. The first time you wanted to speak but found yourself unable to. Legilimens.”
Severus was thrown into the boy’s mind. It was dark and clouded, the memory was blurred at the edges but crisp and clear in the centre. He found himself in the kitchen of number 4 Privet Drive. At first it was silent but then, the memory began to distort, and a blood curdling scream ripped through the quiet. Snape started at the noise and his heart leapt into his throat. The tall man spun around to try and find the owner of the sound and his eyes fell on a small boy huddled on the floor. The boy’s hair was long and fell in front of his eyes. The boy’s back was pressed against the skirting boards, but Snape could see streaks of blood smeared on the cream coloured wood. His heart broke. Snape looked closer as the boy rolled over, crying out in pain. His shirt was torn open in the back and soaked in blood. The boy pushed himself up, his body wracked with tremors, his arms threatening to give out at the strength it took. When sitting upright, the boy raised his shaking hands and pushed his hair from his eyes. Snape knew it would be Harry, but he was still shocked when he was faced with the realisation. Harry’s pale face was covered in a sheen of glimmering sweat and his emerald eyes swam with tears. Snape began to reach out for the boy but drew his hand back when he realised that Harry would not know of his presence and Snape could not offer any comfort whatsoever. Snape jumped when a loud, booming voice rang out.
“Freak! I’m not done with you yet boy!” The voice was harsh and cruel, venom dripping from every word. Snape’s heart began to beat fast. He was terrified and he was a grown man, so no wonder the small boy before him began to shake so terribly. Young Harry scrambled back again and cried out when his mangled back hit the cupboards. His green eyes searched the room frantically and eventually landed on the door. He whimpered quietly and his fragile hands found their way up to his hair, pulling hard on the unwashed strands. The door slammed open and, in the doorway, stood a large man whose face was purple with rage.
“You, boy!” The man stumbled, ungainly, over to the frightened boy. Harry shrank further into himself, trying to be as small as possible. The man, who Severus assumed was Uncle Vernon, raised his meaty fist and reached down, grabbing Harry by the hair. He pulled the boy up to his face and slammed his other fist into Harry’s stomach. The boy coughed and spluttered before being dropped unceremoniously to the ground. Harry cried out again and curled into himself.
“Uncle Vernon. Please! I’ll be good. I promise.” Harry sobbed, his voice cracking with pain. Vernon’s foot came down hard on Harry’s side and Severus heard the audible crack of the boy’s ribs splintering. Snape held in a sob.
“Stop talking. Stop talking. No one wants to hear what you have to say. No one cares about you freak!” Uncle Vernon seethed, his face growing darker by the second.
“Please” Harry cried, he held his hand up above him. Vernon’s fist found Harry again.
“I said stop talking.”
“Please stop.” Another thwack echoed. And another. And another. Harry’s face was bleeding, and his nose was bent at a funny angle. The boy tried to speak, to plead at his uncle again, but he sputtered, and the words got caught in his throat. This was it. This was the moment that Harry lost his voice. Snape realised that now. The professor looked away from the scene he was witnessing as another blow landed. Snape couldn’t stomach this anymore and withdrew himself from the horrifying memory.
Snape blinked as he returned to his office. He felt his entire body shaking in shock. Snape was disturbed at what he had seen. His stomach was rolling, threatening him with vomit. The man swallowed and took a step back. He found his desk behind him and Severus gripped it, steadying himself. It was then that Snape remembered the boy. The fog lifted on his brain and Snape searched for Harry. The chair that Harry had been sat in was empty. It took a few agonising seconds but then he found him curled up in a ball beneath a table at the back of his office. Snape slowly approached the boy, his hands held out placatingly in front of him.
“Harry. It’s ok. You’re safe here. I promise. I’m not going to hurt you.”
The boy was rocking back and forth beneath the table, his arms wrapped tightly around himself. Harry’s head was shaking in denial and tears streamed down his cheeks. The only noise came from his strangled sobs.
“Harry. Take a deep breath. Remember what I said. Remember that you are safe.” Snape whispered soothingly. He watched in horror as Harry began banging his head against the stone walls.
“Stop. Harry. Stop. I’m here. You’re here. You are safe. It’s Professor Snape. Please stop hurting yourself.” Snape said, his voice trembling with panic. Harry’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut. His hands crept up to his ears, clamping down on them to block out all the noise. Snape couldn’t stop Harry banging his head and he was floundering. Snape was panicking and he didn’t know what to do.
Harry felt Snape enter his mind and after that, all Harry felt was terror as the memory replayed in his mind. He could feel Snape’s presence, but Harry was too focused on the all-encompassing fear that came with the memory. Harry felt trapped and wanted to escape. He watched the event unfold and could do nothing as he witnessed his young self be beaten into submission. After what felt like hours, Harry felt his professor withdraw and Harry was thrown back into reality. He blinked his tears away and watched Snape lean shakily against his desk. Harry took the chance to try and escape. He stumbled to the door, but it was locked so Harry scanned the room. His eyes landed on a table, and he fell to the ground, crawling under it and hugging himself tightly. His ears were ringing, and his head was pounding. Harry still felt trapped in the memory and his body was on fire, pain shooting down his back and setting his nerves on fire. Harry whimpered as he felt the lashings hit his back again and Uncle Vernon’s fist hit his face and his stomach. Harry couldn’t break away, couldn’t escape the pain that was inflicted on him so he did the only thing he could. He slammed his head backwards and felt it collide with the stone wall. The pain began to clear Harry’s vision, so he did it again. And again. The ringing in his ears was still so loud so Harry could hear nothing over it, and he clamped his hands over his ears, trying to silence the ringing. As his vision continued to clear, Harry became aware of the man crouched next to him. It took a second for Harry to recognise who it was, and in those seconds his body filled with panic again, but eventually, he realised that it was Professor Snape. Harry sighed and realised he was safe. Uncle Vernon was not there and could not hurt him.
Snape watched Harry’s eyes clear and land on him. The professor let out a sigh of relief, glad that Harry was starting to come back to him.
“That’s it, Harry. I’m here. Take deep breaths.” Snape whispered soothing words and kept repeating them. He held his hand out to the boy, encouraging him to take it. Whilst Harry didn’t take his hand, he did begin to clamber out from under the table. He came out and Snape breathed a sigh of relief, his stomach unclenching from the knot it had been in.
“Well done, Harry.” The man reassured. Severus backed away, allowing Harry his space. Ever so slowly, the boy came out of his state and looked at his professor. The spell was still in place so Snape knew that Harry’s thoughts would talk aloud.
“I’m sorry, Professor.” Harry whispered, his voice wavering, threatening tears again.
“It’s quite alright, Harry. Remember we discussed that this might happen. Your reaction was perfectly normal.” Harry shook his head, not believing the professor’s words. Snape sighed in resignation. He knew that this would be a long and hard process of acceptance, but he wasn’t about the push the boy now. Instead, Snape allowed Harry to collect himself.
Harry’s face began to regain its colour, and his shaking slowed. He still tugged at his fingers, but the boy was calm enough now that Snape decided to ask him about what he had seen.
“Harry. What we both saw was abhorrent and unfair. The way that you were treated was despicable and no one deserves to ever be treated like that. But I want to know how old you were there.”
The boy thought for a moment, his eyes flicking left and right.
“Eight, I think Sir.” Snape’s heart broke even further.
“Can you remember why that event occurred?”
“I’m not sure. It could have been any number of the reasons I listed earlier. I think I might have spoken out of turn though. I think I answered back or something.” Harry replied, cautiously. He truly had no idea why he had beaten that night.
“Okay. That’s okay, Harry. Based on what I saw, I believe that this is the particular event that caused your inability to speak. Whilst the problem has been compounded over many years, this was the trigger.” Snape explained. Harry nodded.
“What happens now. Can you get my voice back?”
“Yes. I think we can. Now we have the memory, we can start to break down those barriers that you have built. But first, I want us to go to the hospital wing. Together. First of all, you were banging your head very hard, and I want to make sure that you are okay. Second, because I want to get a comprehensive list of your injuries that were caused by your relatives.” Harry shook his head furiously at Snape’s request. Severus had expected this.
“No Harry. This is important. If you want to begin to move past your trauma, and for me to continue helping you, this must happen. I will talk to Madam Pomfrey and explain the situation.”
Harry nodded and resigned himself to this. He had been avoiding this ever since he started at Hogwarts but now, he realised it was unavoidable. The bruises had disappeared now, so Harry knew that there was no physical evidence, but Snape had seen his memories, something that no one had seen before.
“Excellent. Come with me.”
Harry and Severus arrived at the hospital wing and Harry walked over to a bed and slumped down onto it, ignoring the adults that were now huddled in the corner, whispering. The events of the night replayed in his mind and Harry attempted to ignore the creeping sense of dread that washed over him in waves. Harry bit back tears as he realised how weak he seemed and how exhausted he felt.
“Poppy. Thank you for seeing us so late.” Severus whispered, inclining his head towards her. He kept his tone hushed so as not to have Harry overhear.
“Of course, Severus. What can I do for you and young Harry.” Poppy replied, glancing nervously over at the small boy curled up on a bed.
“First I must tell you that what I’m about to tell you must go no further – especially not to Albus.” Severus said warningly, his face grave.
“Absolutely Professor. But I must ask you why.”
“Mr Potter is being abused. Terribly. At the hands of his relatives. I have just started working with him to try and get him to talk again. He has been unable to talk since the age of eight. This evening was my first time attempting occlumency with him and I witnessed a horrific memory of the abuse. His uncle was beating him, and I suspect some lashings with some kind of cane prior to the memory beginning. I saw a lot of blood on his back. But when we came out of the memory, Harry was still trapped in it and had a panic attack which caused him to bang his head against the wall repeatedly.” Snape explained his observations plainly, trying to avoid the emotions that were bubbling inside him, threatening to spill over. Poppy’s face grew paler and paler as Snape went on, her hand flying to her mouth.
“Severus! That’s awful. I had seen him twice already since the start of term. The first was after he fainted. He had a nasty cut on the back of his head that Miss Granger told me occurred when he fell.”
“Ah yes. That cut came from a panic attack earlier in the day. And the second visit?” Snape replied. He hung his head as he remembered that that particular panic attack had been caused by Snape himself.
“Ah, the second time I saw Mr Potter. He came with Minerva and Miss Granger. He was bleeding from scratches on his neck. Minerva did not elaborate on the cause though. However, now I assume that these were also caused by a panic attack. Both occasions, I tried to get Harry to consent to a diagnostic spell as I suspected abuse but both times, he refused. The proposition caused him to become rather agitated.” Poppy looked sadly at Harry, now understanding the boy’s reluctance. He had dealt with this alone for so long.
“Yes, well now you see. Minerva was aware of the boy’s abuse but unfortunately, Albus got to her before she could do anything about it. He obliviated both Minerva and Miss Granger and left Harry completely alone. I made a poor decision and decided to not do anything about what Minerva told me, and that will forever be a choice I regret but I am trying to help him now.” Severus’ gaze was distant as he reminisced on his mistakes.
“Severus! That boy is hurting. How could you!?” Poppy whispered sharply. Her anger showed on her face and Severus flinched at the older woman’s dismay.
“I know. I know Poppy. I am ashamed of myself. But I harboured a grudge against the boy because of the sins of his father but now I am here. Trying to help and I need your help too. But you must not tell anyone, or I fear that Albus will be after us next.”
“Okay. Let’s talk to Harry, shall we?” Poppy sighed.
“Good evening, Harry. Professor Snape has told me that you have had a rather eventful night. Shall we have a look to make sure everything is ok?” Poppy asked the boy gently, a warm smile on her face. Harry nodded mutely, realising that the spell was no longer active. Snape watched the interaction and realised the same thing.
“Eloquor” He whispered. Harry felt the magic and smiled gratefully at his professor.
“Harry, how does your head feel?”
“Hurts a bit. Not too much though, I’ve had worse.” Harry’s voice echoed through the high ceilings of the hospital wing. Snape and Pomfrey sighed sadly, realising the subtext laced in the boy’s words. He had indeed, had worse. Pomfrey waved her wand and ran a diagnostic spell on his head, focusing for now on the back. The spell showed some minor bleeding and bruising which Pomfrey healed quickly with another wave of her wand.
“That’s all fine now Harry. You had minor injuries from this incident which I have healed for you. Next, I would like to cast that diagnostic spell that we spoke about. It will not hurt but it will give me a complete overview of all your injuries, past and present.” Harry thought for a moment and then nodded slowly. Poppy waved her wand a second time, this time more complexly and with more intricate movements. Harry felt the magic wash over him and he shifted uncomfortably. Immediately, a parchment popped into existence beside the nurse and Harry watched as Poppy and Severus began to read, the parchment growing steadily. The adults’ eyes widened.
“Oh Harry. You poor child.” Madam Pomfrey’s eyes glistened with tears.
Snape and Poppy read the list as it grew uncomfortably long and their stomach’s twisted as they read.
Name: Harry James Potter
Age: 11
Height: 135cm (below average)
Weight: 28kg (significantly below average)
Injury History
- 10 Concussions
- Broken fibula
- Broken tibia
- Fractured radius
- Hairline fracture of the 3rd, 4th and 5th metacarpals
- Significant blood loss
- Dislocated shoulder
- Fractured collarbone
- Fractured nose
- Contusions over the ribs, stomach, back, arms, neck, legs, left and right eye sockets
- Scarred skin throughout the body
- Cracked ribs
- Significant malnutrition
- Low iron resulting in anaemia
- Bruised windpipe
The list kept going until it was curled on the floor.
“Harry. I must ask you to take your shirt off, please. I need to see the scars on your back from the injuries sustained in your memory.” Snape broke the silence. Harry shook his head.
“No. You now know what happened to me. I’m not doing that.” Harry replied vehemently.
“Harry please. We want to make sure that they have healed properly.” Poppy pleaded. Harry groaned and sighed, his face flushing with embarrassment.
“Promise me you won’t tell anyone?” The boy asked cautiously. The adults nodded their heads sincerely. Harry sighed again but turned away and took his robes off and then unbuttoned his shirt. Harry slowly dropped his shirt and hear the audible gasps emitted by the adults stood behind him. The boy bit back tears at their reaction.
Snape watched as Harry removed his shirt and couldn’t hold in the gasp when he saw the child’s back. Harry’s pale back was marred with a mess of criss-crossed scars. They were thin and they had no rhyme or reason to their pattern – just like someone had hacked blindly and without thought of consequence. The scars looked well healed, even though they were red and angry. Harry shrugged his shirt back on and turned to look at the adults.
“Happy?” Harry’s voice was sarcastic. Severus sighed sadly.
“No of course I’m not happy Harry! Your results showed numerous breaks and fractures, dislocations and bruises. But it also showed that your weight is too low. I have not seen you at meals either.” Severus replied, his voice was sharp.
“Not hungry. Didn’t really get much food at the Dursley’s so it’s weird to come here and have all that food. Just not hungry I guess.” The boy shrugged, nonchalantly.
“I understand that, but you must eat. I will provide you with some nutrition potions and appetite stimulant potions. But I want to see you at breakfast tomorrow. Next week we will have another meeting to work on your speech again.” Snape answered, explaining his plan for Harry.
“Ok. I’ll try. Can I go now. It’s been a long night and I’m tired.” Harry whispered. Snape noticed that this was true. The boy’s eyelids were drooping heavily as sleep threatened to overcome the boy there and then.
“Yes. You may. Thank you for this evening, Harry. You have done brilliantly.” Snape smiled at the boy as he left the hospital wing. With the boy gone, Snape turned to look at Poppy. He smiled sadly at the woman who had tears falling silently.
“How could we have missed this?”
“We didn’t. Albus covered it up.” Snape snarled bitterly and then turned to leave, his black robes billowing behind him.