Authors Note: Salutations and greeting to you. I've had this story stuck in my head for awhile. To my followers of Not a Single Day. I have not abandoned it, I promise just working very slowly through writers block on it also reworking it. Really hating on chapter five... Not to Mention life keeps giving me a high five to the face... on to this story however. NonSlash Features mentions of abuse and neglect. But I promise cute and fluffy moments too!

It is another Severitus fic starting on the train of Harry and Co.'s third year. In the semi typical way Fudge had sent Harry back to the Dursley's after the Aunt Marge fiasco. He was of course "punished" by his uncle on his return. Bruised, battered and ashamed he is finally going back to Hogwarts. As the Dementors search the train Harry dreams or has a flashback to the night his parents died. A memory of someone comforting baby Harry. Who was the man who calmed him? Why did he leave? Changing of opinions and perceptions. With Sirius Black after him will he ever have a normal year at Hogwarts?

Disclaimer: All Muggles, Wizards, Witches, things, places, creatures, spells, enchantments and all round awesomeness of the Harry Potter franchise do not belong to me. They forever remain the property of JK Rowling. I am not her, nor do I claim in any way to be her. This makes me sad.

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Chapter One: Alone but Safe

Harry struggled to draw breath. the air around him was thin and frigid, burning at his lungs with each intake. Worthlessness and despair all around clawing at the corners of his mind. The misery over powering him plunging him further into the darkness. Stripping him of all sense of hope from his consciousness the deeper he fell into this abyss. All around him the screams of a woman echoed. She was begging and pleading at some dark presence. The words were lost in the tangle of cries that filled the void surrounding him. Harry could feel the static of wild magic surrounding them, casting shadows of darkness. suffocating him, pressing all around. It was building to ever growing heights. One spark would set it free. One spark would end it.

Shadows crept in the darkness, stalking him, ready to consume him. The woman screaming as vivid green provided the spark that set the darkness aflame. Blinding him casting out the darkness. A thump as silence fell. The wild magic clinging around him. He cried out to the woman. But only darkness would answer. He was alone. A Shadow was moving around he cried out louder. He was scared. He felt his panic rising, the air reeked of fear and anguish. He felt himself being pressed against a firm surface. Warmth radiating from where his small body touched. A musky scent wafted around him. He heard his cries to the woman whimper out as soft sounds tickled at his ear. Calming the fear. He let the sounds take him. All sense of time was lost as he let the tones placate him, promises that all would be well. A roar cutting through the peace. He was alone, always alone.

The shadows began snatching at him. Threatening to consume him. Weighed down in despair he was drowning. He tried to fight it, but he was tired. So very tired. The darkness promised release from the pain he felt. No one would notice. He was alone.

"Harry!" Voices calling to him beyond the icy depths. Calling to him, guiding him from the depths. The darkness began to warm. A light above him, humming a comforting song. Drawing him from its depths towards it. Promises of being him being safe whispered in his ear. The shadows continued to try to reach him, to drag him down. His fear ebbing away as a faded memory of a scent cocooned him fending them off. He became aware of the feeling of wool against his face as he reached the light. He was safe.

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Safe.That was the first conscious thought that Harry had upon waking in the blurry but familiar sight of the hospital wing of Hogwarts. How had he ended up here? He vaguely remembered being on the train, and of it stopping. The icy frost of fear and hopelessness over powering all other sense. The screaming and the light. Whispers and promises. Memories or dreams? His head felt fuzzy. He sat up abruptly. The dread and fear he had felt earlier still clung to him as he shuddered from the cold of the Infirmary. The feeling of safety dimming out in favour of these much more dominant emotions. He hated this section of the castle. Too many secrets could be spilt here. Too many questions to could be asked.

He could hear the sounds of muffled speaking near by. He quickly set about searching for his glasses. Needing to see who was in the ward with him. Fumbling in his efforts he knocked something of the side table. It clattered and he heard the familiar crack of the glass of his glasses. The noise must have alerted whoever was there that he was awake. The privacy screen about his bed was pulled back. He startled at the present of the blurry figures.

"Welcome back Mr. Potter" Came the clipped tones of Professor McGonagall.

"Pro..professor?" He croaked out. His throat dry. He squinted his eyes to try to make out who else was next to her. He felt the familiar bustle of Madam Pomfrey next to him as she hand him his glasses and thrust a glass of water into his hands. The cold a welcome comfort to his parched throat.

"Thanks" He smiled sheepishly as he pushed his glasses onto his face. "Professor what happened?" He turned to face his Head of House. Vaguely noticing the shabby dressed new professor standing just behind the stern transfiguration teacher. Lu-something. There was something familiar in his presence, a vague sense.

"Dementors Mr. Potter." came the placating reply from the matron. " I had thought when we got the owl to say you had taken ill you had been up to something dangerous again." She gave him a piercing stare as if to sum him up.

*She turned and gave McGonagall a dark gaze then proceeded to fuss over him. "Setting dementors around a school..." She muttered, pushing Harry's hair back and feeling his forehead. "He won't be the last one that collapses. Yes, he's all clammy. Terrible things, they are, and the effect they have on people who are already delicate.." *

"I'm not delicate!"** Harry cried indignity. He didn't want people to think him weak. He was meant to be the Boy-Who-Lived. He wasn't allowed to be weak. That part of why he kept the going on's of Privet Drive a carefully guarded secret. The three adults around him continued to discuss those Dementy things. He hoped he could get out of here soon before the Med-Witch look to closely at him. If she hadn't already. He didn't fully understand how or why his accidental magic had sped the healing of his scars and bruises. Or covered the rest. But he was very thankful for it. Maybe he could pass it of as getting into a fight?

His thought drifted to that morning and his astonishment that his magic had healed and hidden the marks left from his Uncles fury from the events of the summer.

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That summer had turned out to have been the worst that he could remember. It had started in the what could have been said was an easy carefree summer. Well as easy and carefree as Harry could claim it to be. Given his sudden and 'freakish' way he had escaped the previous summer. He had expected the worst from the moment he stepped of the train. But his Aunt and Uncle barely acknowledged his existence, bar to give him his endless list of chores. But other than these fleeting moments of communication Harry had been largely left alone for the first five weeks. For this he had been exceptionally happy for.

For the first time he could remember he had not started his summer holidays covered from head to toe in bruises. He had not been clutching at his sides to ease the pain of bruised and possibly broken ribs. Not that he was complaining his aunt had even been letting him have stale sandwiches and a piece of fruit at lunch time. It was a vast improvement to the scraps from the Dursley's table he was occasionally left. Though he largely suspected this was to give him just enough energy to complete the large list of chores she gave him each morning.

He had even allowed to walk around the neighbourhood. (if he didn't talk to the neighbours) And only if he had completed his chores. He had even found time to do some of his homework, though it was done secretly in the dead of night. Even his beautiful owl Hedwig had been allowed the freedom of not being cooped up in her cage. (Granted he had been made to promise not to send any letters to 'those freaks') It had been going so well, five weeks of relative calm. The only incident in those early weeks had been when his best friend Ron had called him. His Uncle yelling at him and throwing him in his room was, in Harrys opinion, getting off light. Yes those first five weeks had been a blessing.

In hindsight he should have known better; for when did anything in his near thirteen years of living stay going his way. It started on the morning of his thirteenth birthday the following three weeks were a bit of blur.

Aunt Marge... His anger at her insults towards his parents, the storm of accidental magic, her inflating and then floating out the backdoor. His Uncles rage as his fist connected to his cheek. The fear knowing that his uncle would kill him. Running away, the dog and the Knight Bus. The Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Fudge not listening to him as he had pleaded not to go back to the Dursely's. That his Uncle would kill him, Harry had even showed him the already formed bruise from his Uncles fist. Begging the Minister to believe him.

"I am sure it was an accident, done in the heat of the moment my boy" Fudge had said. "No need to blow the situation up" The bowler wearing buffoon laughing at his stupid pun. He vaguely recalled something being said about that Black fellow he'd seen on the news that he was a follower of Voldemort and it being safer for Harry to remain with his family.

The Minister dropping him back at number four, informing the Dursely's of Harry's "fear" of punishment. Harry could still see the vein thumping on his Uncles temple. Knowing that as soon as the other Wizards left he was as good as dead. He had broken Rule One. The Minister told Harry that his school supplies would be delivered to him in time for school. The crack that he knew meant there were no wizards around to protect him. Followed by the crack as knuckle met skull.

The days, hours and minutes blended into a mash from that point. He was so sore. Breathing hurt moving hurt, thinking hurt. He did not know for how long his Uncle lashed into him that first night. He faded into the blackness fairly early on, all the while praying that someone could help him. But no one came, no one ever did.

The next week had been a mix of beatings and forced fasting. The door to his room locked with the seven ridiculous locks. Being let out once a day to use the loo. Then locked back in till Vernon Dursley decided he needed another lesson. His nights were filled with nightmares always ending in the green flash the showed the failed curse on his life. He would wake with a start and a vague impression of something he was missing in the dark memory. He was lonely and missed Hedwig but he was glad he had sent her to Ron before Marge had arrived. Who know what could have happened to his beloved familiar if within reach of his Uncles err.

It was in the final weeks of holidays that he overheard his Aunt out side his door, reminding her husband that the freak would be returning to the freak school in and they couldn't have him returning covered in so many bruises and looking like they starved him. "too many questions" she had hissed. From there the worst he got was one meal a day of stale bread and water. Let out to complete chores. But otherwise ignored. At least the beatings had stopped.

True to his word the Minister had Harry's supplies delivered in time for the school term. On a rainy Monday the day before term started a large Eagle owl swooped into the kitchen through an open window, as he was making his relations breakfast. Dropping its heavy load on the already waiting toast, scattering it about. His Aunt had screeched at the filthy thing being in her perfectly clean house. His Uncle waited till the owl had left before yelling about the abnormality of it all and how fed up he was of freaks and the imposition of being burdened with one of them. He had taken Harry by the scruff of the hair, half dragging him up the stairs then throwing him into his 'room'. "well at least I wont have any new marks" Harry thought bitterly as the door slammed and he heard as he was being locked in.

Harry spent Monday and Tuesday in another forced fast. His stomach ached, the scars on his back stung and he was convinced that at least one of is ribs were broken due to the burning pain he felt each time he drew breath. His aunt had let him out to use the bathroom once in the morning, after his uncle left for work and just before he came home both days. On Tuesday night he caught his reflection for the first time in over a month. He had been terrified what it would show. To his astonishment there was not a mark to be seen on his face or neck. He starred at himself in a stupor. There was a slight glint he could see, not overtly noticeable. But He could see; no sense the magic there.

The sharp rap at the bathroom door snapped him out of his thoughts. As he returned to Dudley's second bedroom he mussed about his luck about his greatest fear not being discovered. He let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. No one would notice, no one could go to the Daily Prophet and some stupid article couldn't be written. He could see it now. "Saviour of the wizarding world unable to defend himself from muggles"

Not to mention the worry of Hermione and the Weasley's. There was nothing they could do for him. He had to stay in Privet Drive. The Blood wards kept him safe.

The morning of September first was dreary and miserable as Harry had felt. The dark ominous clouds hung above sending a typhoon of rain down. He looked at the old wrist watch of Dudley's he had found to see it was 9 o'clock. His body ached and he was still so tired. He tried to get up and found he was dizzy. he slumped back on the bed waiting for the nausea to fade. He was wondering when his Aunt and Uncle would take him to the station. If they did at all. No they knew they had to send him if they didn't want the 'freaks' sniffing around. is aunt opened his door and told him to put his stuff into his trunk and be in Vernon's car in ten minutes. No time for anything to eat.

In less then that time he was packed, it was no like he had much, and in the car. Thirty minutes later his uncle had pulled to the curb in front of King Cross. Soon his trunk and Hedwig's empty cage unceremoniously dumped on the curb. With the threat of what would happen to him if he started talking of what happened this summer and Uncle Vernon was gone.

It was a little before ten, when Harry found his way onto the platform. He was slightly taken back by how busy it was so early. He couldn't find an empty carriage to wait for his friends, but one with a scruffy man fast asleep. At least it had no one to gawk at him he had thought. It wasn't long waiting before Hermione and Neville had found him. They had chatted about their holidays (Harry skilfully avoiding talking about his) With minutes to spare the trio saw as the Weasley's hurried to make the train. Hermione questioned his quietness, he had shrugged it of. "Just tired 'Mione" he mumbled. Closing his eyes to make the point. He pretended to be asleep for the rest of the way.

That was until the train had stopped. The cold the clammy feeling washing over him, a woman screaming just like in his dreams followed by the flash of green. The same dream he had had since before he could remember. But there was more to the dream this time. Normally he awoke feeling scarred and alone. But this time he had felt safe and comforted...

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"O Harry!"

He was jolted from his somber thoughts from the cry as he was assaulted with a thick mane of brown hair. He pulled in a sharp breath as Hermione's body collied with his small frame.

"I'm sorry" she cried when she realised her mistake. "We've been so worried, the train and the dementors you fainting and not waking. Then Professor Lupin made us come up without you and Professor McGonagall wouldn't let us come up till after the feast.." she chocked out without taking a breath.

So he had to have been in the hospital wing for at least two hours he realised. Harry took his chance at talking while she gathered her breath. "It's fine Hermione, I'm fine." he looked to his best mate behind her and gave a grin. "Really" he stressed to them at their doubtful expressions.

"But why are you sore?" she questioned. Harry cursed his friends perceptiveness sometimes.

"Oh..umm" he stumbled trying to think of a reason. Noticing that the Matron and his two teachers were still standing there. "Dudley..." he explained lamely "We got into a fight before I left..."

"Prince Potter fighting muggles..how heroic.." A voice drawled from the entry of the ward. "However will your adoring public take this..."

Snape... Just what he needed. After his summer and the incident on the train the last thing he needed was his most hated professor seeing him in the Hospital Wing. Least of all showing any sign of venerability.. The bat didn't need any more ammunition for his hatred of the boy-who-lived.

Harry mustered his best glare at the Potions Master. "For your information sir" he stressed the word "he attacked me" he felt his two best friends re position their selves in a protective manners behind him.

The man levelled him with a piercing glare and Harry could swear he felt something brushing against his thoughts. He didn't know if it was intuition or what but he pushed against the light force. There was plenty of theories that the man could read minds. With the other weird things that had happened around Harry, he couldn't be blamed for being a little bit wary of the thought. He watched as a slight frown mark the sour faced its face for a moment then the trademark scowl took its place.

"Now Severus really.." McGonagall chided. "It is the start of the year..

"at least wait to harass the boy when he isn't so delicate.." Pomfrey finished. Snapes' lip twitched sending Harry into a fury.

"I AM NOT DELICATE!" Harry yelled. He was sick of people making him feel weak. Why couldn't they leave him alone. He regretted raising his voice when his head of house and the Slytherin shot him double glares. The other Professor. Lupin was it? looked like he was trying to solve a difficult puzzle as he gazed at Harry. It made him feel uncomfortable. Harry squirmed as he heard the tsk of madam Pomfrey. "M'sorry" he muttered, his face flushing as he turned to the Medi-witch " ..can I leave now Madam Pomfrey. I swear I'm feeling fine now..." he sent her a pleading look. She knew he hated being in the wing for longer than necessary.

"Fine Mr. Potter you may return to your dormitory." She waved her hand dramatically. She knew it was pointless trying to keep him. She knew something was wrong with him. But she could never pin point it. And trying only made the young man more edgy. She sighed. "But straight to sleep and you must take it 'slow' tomorrow. You are still del.." she didn't finish the sentence at the glare the lad sent at her.

"I promise" Harry smiled widely at her. Quickly getting of the bed, ignoring the others in the room. He started to move towards the double doors, knowing his friends would follow. As he moved past Snape and Lupin he caught a whiff of something familiar. He shook his head and hurried out into the castle. he wanted to be in the familiar red canopy awaiting him...

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With the exit of the Golden Trio, Pomfrey and Mcgonagall gave the remaining men a goodnight before retreating into the Medi-Witches office. Both of them so vastly different in personality, yet their intelligence could pass on par to the other. Both staring at the doors that the trio had just gone through, thoughts on the raven haired boy.

Remus Lupin was the first to stir from his thoughts. He let out a sigh and ran his hand down his scared face. He did not like what his inner self was screaming at him. He shook his head noticing the look on his former school cohort. The man appeared to have similar thoughts on his mind. The wolf inside him was dangerous. But it was seldom mistaken in its intuition. "He was lying.." he said stepping next to the Snape.

Lupins words seemed to rouse the man from his thoughts. Severus Snape scowled at the werewolf next to him. Without a word he stalked towards the door.

"Thank-you for bringing him up" Lupin called to him. Snape paused and gave no form of acknowledgement past a curt nod of his head.

This was going to be an interesting year Lupin mused.

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ANOTHER AUTHORS NOTE!

And with that is chapter one. Let me know in the reviews what you think. Also an early call to anyone who wishes to Beta this for me. My grammar is still shockingly shocking.

*Quote from Prisoner of Azkaban

**another quote from Prisoner of Azkaban.

NEXT CHAPTER TWO: Of Potions and Dreams