Memories and Promises
“Because the closest I’ve ever been to famous is being renowned around school for being the most bullied kid in existence!” Harry finished, breathing heavily.
So, maybe I shouldn’t of done that, Harry thought as he looked upon the shocked, frozen face of Professor Snape.
“Got any more pent up rage you need to take out on an unsuspecting victim? This guy takes it like a champ.” Willow hissed. Harry felt an entire ton of regret wash over him.
“I’m sorry, you didn’t need to hear that, none of it’s your fault. I shouldn’t dump it on you like that.” Harry said quietly, looking up at Professor Snape through his fringe.
Snape raised a hand to run it through his hair - he really didn’t need this today - and Harry flinched violently. That was the last straw for sallow skinned man, how could anyone have let Petunia have custody of a magical child? How could no one check on the precious Boy-Who-Lived?
“If you think me a fool who would take a child’s word with no evidence or proof,” his wand slipped from his sleeve to his awaiting palm “you’re sorely mistaken.”
Before Harry could react Snape uttered a single word.
~*~
Images and sensations tore through them faster than the younger could comprehend, and yet too slow for the elder.
Every new trauma, every beating, insult, snide remark, every ignorant or oblivious adult, every whispered rumour, scraped knee, and bruised elbow. It drowned them both in a sea of misery and neglect, but most of all it showed Snape all the lies he had been fed. It showed him how just how ready he had been to torment this small boy based on the idea that even though the boy is half Lily he would be a clone of his father.
Finally gaining his barings in the misery techno-disco nightmare Snape had put them in Harry watched as his worst memories were pulled from his head and shown to this stanger. They stopped abruptly on a scene he wished he could forget.
Harry is four years old in this memory, his limbs bone thin and his stomach bulges slightly just below his starkly visible ribs. He’s naked besides an obviously overused diaper that would slip passed his hips had he not been holding it up.
The cupboard is small, dark, and full of spiders as it always was before Willow. The cracks around the door let in a warm glow, and the sound of his relatives laughing uproariously at the telly.
Little Harry waddles to the door of the cupboard and calls out for his Aunt Petunia, the telly cuts out in the other room and thundering footsteps made their way towards the cupboard. Footsteps too loud to be Petunia, Harry scrambles back from the door pushing himself against the furthest corner. The cupboard door swings open-
~*~
The alley seems bright and open compared to the memories he’d been trapped in.
Harry is slumped against against the bricks, the only thing keeping him upright. Snape is on his knees before him, a single tear slides down his cheek as he lifts his head to look Harry in the eyes once more.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Potter. I’ve failed you, I’ve failed your mother,” His voice breaks and he hangs his head again, “I promised to protect you, I was told you’d been sent somewhere safe to live with relatives of your father. I should have checked on you, or sent someone to, something. I’m sorry. If I had known you’d been sent to Petunia I never would have let you stay there, I swear to you. I-”
“It doesn’t matter anymore, I don’t want your apology.” Harry interjected, voice flat.
Snape looked back up at him, something Harry couldn’t - and didn’t want to - understand roiling in his eyes. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it and lowered his head once again.
“Don’t look a gift whore in the mouth, dumbass! Use this to your advantage, he’s on his knees, he’ll give you anything!” Willow whispered in his ear.
“I don’t want or need an apology, Professor. What I want, what I need is to get the bloody hell out of there. You knew my parents, you know my Aunt. You get me out, for good an-and all is forgiven. Okay?” He winces at the stutter, but Snape is still staring at the cobblestones.
Harry doesn’t know what else he could say, but he’s saved from having to speak when Snape slowly rises to his feet. When he meets Harry’s eye this time Harry knows the look in his eye, and he knows he’ll never see Petunia or her barnyard animals again so long as Snape lives.