Chapter 1
“All right,” professor Snape snarled at the class. It was sixth year Defense Against the Dark Arts, and both Seamus and Ron were still reeling from the alcoholic binge in which they partook the night before. Finnigan had been mourning his mother’s sudden, untimely death, with evidence pointing to a Death Eater attack in the muggle neighborhood, and Ron wanted to be there for his friend. As well, Weasley and Granger had engaged in a rather public falling-out, and the redhead was still hurting from that. “Everyone stand on either side of the classroom and prepare yourselves. Today we’re going to practice two-on-two dueling.” As the students scrambled, or in the case of the two hungover Gryffindors, staggered to obey the professor, Severus flicked his wand and cleared the desks from the room for the moment.
“Potter and Nott, you’ll face off against Weasley and Finnigan,” the Potions Master announced. “Granger and Patil against Greengrass and Davis. Brown and Dunbar against Parkinson and Bulstrode. Thomas and Longbottom against Zabini and Malfoy. And finally, Vaisey and Muirhead against Crabbe and Goyle. Now, I want you to use debilitating spells, but nothing painful or severely injurious is to be cast. This especially goes for you, Malfoy. I know that you want to be the best, and curse your opponent with whatever takes them out the quickest. If you, in any way, harm any of the students in this class, I’ll make sure that the rest of your term here is painful and humiliating.
“Absolutely no unforgivables; I’d like to see you all graduate, and you won’t be able to do that from an Azkaban cell. Potter, Nott, Weasley and Finnigan, you’re up first. At my mark, begin casting. When I say hold, you are to cease all spell casting. Anyone who continues to fire off incantations will spend the rest of your long scholastic career elbow deep in whatever slimy, disgusting ingredients I can find for you to process.” The four teens faced each other across the room, and Theo and Harry shot each other nervous glances.
“Ron and Seamus are hung over,” Harry warned his partner lowly. “Beware of mangled or miscast spells, and I don’t think they’ll go too easy on us.”
“Thanks,” Theo whispered back with a barely there nod of his head. Moments later, Snape dropped his arm and the spells started flying. The Slytherin and Gryffindor held their own for quite a bit; shielding and dodging when they could, and casting incapacitating spells when they had the opportunity. Unfortunately, Ron’s and Seamus’ tempers, combined with their pounding heads and nauseous stomachs, made for a bad combination. As one, both Gryffindors cast three different, badly mangled spells, all chained together, that hit Potter and Nott dead on. Both teens were surrounded with a sickly yellow glow, the spell light completely unfamiliar to anyone in the room.
“HOLD!” Snape barked loudly, stopping the fight to watch what, exactly, the mixed, incomprehensible spells would do. Gasps rung out through the room as everyone watched Harry and Theo begin to shrink, and they didn’t stop until they were the size of four year olds. The two dark-haired toddlers stared at each other for a moment, then stared around at all the strangers looking at them, before making a silent, unanimous decision to run to the teens whom they thought would be safest. So, in an instant, Draco and Blaise found themselves wavering as little arms wrapped around their legs from behind, and the boys peeked around at everyone else. The blond and the Italian could feel the kids shaking so hard that their legs were vibrating unpleasantly, and, almost on instinct, they bent down and picked up the little kids, cuddling them close in an effort to soothe their terror.
“Harry?” Hermione asked querulously as she took two steps toward her best friend, who started shivering harder the closer the girl came to him.
“Stop, Granger,” Draco barked as he readjusted his hold on the Savior. “He’s terrified, and you coming closer is only making it worse.”
“He’s our best friend,” the muggleborn snapped angrily, hands fisted on her hips as she stomped her foot. “We should be the ones he comes to for protection, not you.”
“Enough, Miss Granger,” Severus said tiredly, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose in exhaustion. Things had been decidedly difficult for the potions professor since the Dark Lord’s return, and he wasn’t looking forward to the mess that this kerfuffle would cause. “Blaise, Draco, please take the boys to my private quarters and wait for me there. I’ll be along shortly.”
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The teens were sitting in the big, comfortable leather armchairs to either side of the fireplace, staring at each other in complete shock. “How did this happen?” Draco asked softly as he stared at his friend Theo, who was curled up in Blaise’s lap and nodding off.
“It definitely was something that Finnigan and Weasel did when they cast that mangled spell,” the dark-skinned teen replied, his own eyes wide as he stared at the emerald eyed boy perched in Malfoy’s lap. Harry hadn’t relaxed at all when they entered the potions professor’s rooms; in fact, he seemed more on edge than ever. Draco looked down at the child in his lap, idly stroking the boy’s back in order to get him to relax, and his eyes fell on the hands that were reflexively clenching and releasing in the toddler’s lap.
“Merlin,” he whispered, aghast. “You should see his hands. They have some sort of scars on them, in the shape of partial circles, and some of the skin looks blistered and blackened. What do you think could have caused that?”
“Aunt ‘Tunia,” the four year old whispered shamefully as he tucked his hands into his armpits to hide them from view. “Pun’shm’nt for burnin’ the food.”
“Have you noticed how thin they are?” Blaise queried as he stared down at one of his best friends. “Practically skin and bones. I know Theo had some problems with his dad after his mum died, but this…” The door to the private rooms burst open, startling the teens and scaring the toddlers very badly. They instantly hit the floor and tried to shove themselves under the couch, trying to get away from the imminent threat.
“Severus!” Malfoy snapped as he bent down and retrieved Harry, who had tears running down his face. “It’s okay, little one,” he soothed as he hugged the little body close. “I’ve got you, and I promise, I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.” Blaise was doing the same for Theo, and it took the defense professor longer than it should have for him to make the connections, and when he did, his dark eyes grew sad at the thoughts caroming around in his brain.
“I apologize,” he murmured as he carefully approached his snakes. “I should have seen the signs in the both of them long before now, but my past history with Potter’s father had me wearing blinders in regards to the son. And, considering the types of people whose kids end up in Slytherin, I should have expected at least one case of abuse.” He sat on the sofa and watched as the two young men continued to comfort and soothe the terrified toddlers until they finally relaxed and dozed off.
“So, what happened? Did you get an idea of the spell that those two knuckleheads cast?” Blaise asked softly, hand carding gently through Theo’s hair as the little boy slept.
“It was a combination of spells, so badly mangled that I’m not sure what they cast,” Severus said on a heavy sigh. “Weasley was trying to use the dimuendo at the same time that Finnigan was using the reducio, and they both cast the lapifors. They were still slightly intoxicated when they cast, and bungled the pronunciation enough that all three spells blended and resulted in this.” He waved his hand at the two teens, indicating the children in their laps. “I can understand the two shrinking spells, but I’m still confused by the ‘human into rabbit’ spell.”
“So what do we do now?” Blaise asked quietly. “I’m sure that Dumbledore knows what’s happened by now because of Granger and her knee-jerk reverence for authority figures, and Draco and I have made some rather disturbing observations whilst waiting for you.”
“What do you mean?” the Potions Master asked, dark eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“I think Potter’s been abused by those muggles he was living with,” Draco replied, holding out a tiny hand for the professor to see.
“Merlin,” Severus gasped harshly, staring at the burn patterns on the little palm and fingers. “That looks like the element on a cooker.” At the boys’ confused looks, he elaborated, voice slightly choked with horror. “A cooker is a muggle appliance used to make their food. The elements on top of the stove heat up until they’re red, and then the muggles put pans of food on top of them to cook. This,” he indicated the scarring, “is deliberate. His relatives had to have held his hands down on the elements for a few moments for it to scar this badly.”
“He called it punishment,” Blaise choked out as he stared down at the child in his own lap. “For burning the food. What kind of monsters would to such a thing to a little boy?”
“Did Potter happen to mention a name?” Snape asked, unpleasant conclusions forming in his mind.
“He said ’Tunia,” Draco told his godfather quietly.
“Petunia Evans,” Severus spat angrily, still keeping his voice soft so as not to scare the children. “His mother’s wretched sister. If she was willing to torture him like this, then there's probably other signs of abuse as well.”
“Both of them are too thin to be normal, Severus,” Blaise added with a frown. “Most toddlers are all belly, but these two feel like they haven’t eaten in days.”
“I want you to get hold of your father, Draco,” the potions professor told his godson firmly. “Have him go to the DMLE and put in paperwork for custody of both of them. He’ll need to go to Gringotts for their aid in manufacturing birth certificates and papers for the both of them. At this age, they look almost like brothers and we can use Potter’s Black ancestry to connect the both of them to Narcissa. They can stay in here, with me, for the time being, until we can get everything in place to send them to Malfoy Manor.”
“Where will they sleep?” the blond asked softly, still rubbing the little boy’s back gently. Every now and then the child would twitch in his sleep, as if something was hurting him, and Draco frowned at the implications.
“I have a spare room, in case some of the Slytherin first years need a little monitoring for homesickness or because they’d been injured. They can sleep in there. Right now, I want to get Poppy here to take a look at them, so we know what kind of treatment they’d had up to now.”
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“Well, Severus, both boys are suffering from some rather severe malnutrition,” the mediwitch told the younger man sadly. “Their percentage of body fat is very low, and they have injuries consistent with abuse. Mr. Nott has evidence of prolonged exposure to the cruciatus, and Potter has a fractured skull, most likely caused by something hard and heavy impacting his head. As well, he has two broken ribs, some badly healed fractures in his left arm, and deep bruising on his back, most likely caused by a belt or other implement used to strike him repeatedly. Harry will need the bones in his arm to be vanished, and given skele-gro, as well as the ribs repaired. Bruise balms will take care of his back, and hopefully heal the deep tissue damage.
“Mr. Nott’s issues need a more delicate touch. He can’t have the anti-cruciatus potion you’d created; it’s too strong for someone so young, so you’ll need to experiment to see if you can make one suitable for a toddler’s use. His tendons and ligaments show some scarring from tears resulting from the torture, so he’ll need to work those to strengthen them, or he’ll end up partially incapacitated.
“Albus called me up to his office earlier, to discuss what we can do to return the boys to their proper ages, but since I hadn’t seen them before the meeting, I told him that I’d inform him of my recommendations as soon as I was able. It’ll buy you some time to get those boys somewhere safe, until you can return them to their proper ages. Good luck, Severus, and may Merlin be with you.”