A/N: Hello everyone! I hope you are all doing well in these strange and crazy times. I really appreciate all of the well-wishes that have been sent my way. You are all so sweet. I am doing very well and am incredibly fortunate that I have a job that allows me to work from home for the time being. I know many others have not been so lucky. Stay strong and keep safe everybody. Wherever in the world you may be.

Now as for this chapter, given the circumstances, I kind of wish I had a happier installment to offer all of you. But I hope you will enjoy it nonetheless. This was another really hard one to construct, as I'm sure you can imagine. Snape was just being downright difficult to work with :)

Enjoy!

Severus was quite sure that he had never been so grateful to be an accomplished occlumens in his entire life. Because there was simply no way he would have been able to keep his composure in that moment if he had not been. He wanted so desperately to throw something, anything, at the wall. Or perhaps at Albus Dumbledore's head. But there would be plenty of time for that later, he knew. For now, he could not lose control.

The child at his side was trying desperately to rein in his tears. To stop the sobs from continuing to escape past his lips. But he was failing miserably, his entire form shaking as he continued to weep, his body still unconsciously leaning towards his professor. And all Severus could think to do in that moment was to give the boy's shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he frantically tried to put together a course of action in his head.

"It's alright, Potter. Let it out," the man uttered in a near whisper, only halfway paying attention to what he was saying.

How could we have all missed this? Snape thought, staring over the top of the boy's unruly mop of hair at a long crack on the opposite wall. Not just himself. But Dumbledore. McGonagall. The rest of the Hogwarts staff. Even Madam Pomfrey, the woman who had overseen every single one of the boy's numerous trips to the hospital wing. They all, every single one of them, had a lot to answer for.

Because the man just knew that this wasn't an isolated incident. Looking back now, all the pieces were suddenly falling into place. The flinches. The panic attacks. The bruises on the child's arms on the first night of the new school year. All signs that he had missed. All signs that he had ignored.

The professor resisted the urge to growl in frustration. All he could think in that second was that when he got his hands on the persons responsible for inflicting these injuries on Potter – and he was fairly certain he knew who those people were – he would make them pay.

Severus clenched his jaw as he turned his attention back to the child. He couldn't allow his mind to wander down that path just yet. First and foremost, he needed to finish tending to the child's injuries.

After another minute or so, the boy's cries finally began to lessen. He let out a gasp as he tried to take in some air, and Severus once again squeezed his shoulder in what he hoped would be perceived as a comforting manner. "Just breathe, Potter. That's it."

The boy took in several shaky breaths as he finally began to calm down.

"Shall I continue with the bruise balm?" Severus asked, when the boy's shoulders finally stopped shaking.

Harry hesitated for just a moment before finally nodding his head slowly. It was obvious that the boy was exhausted.

Severus sighed quietly as he withdrew his arm from around the boy's shoulders and stood, repositioning himself in front of the child. "Look up, please."

The boy slowly obeyed, meeting the potions master's eyes for the briefest of moments before turning slightly to focus his gaze straight ahead on the wall. And in that mere second that their gazes met, Severus had been able to see the full extent of the child's fear and pain in the depths of those emerald eyes. He turned away for a moment, taking the opportunity to strengthen his occlumency shields once more as he reached for the bruise balm. He needed to remain calm, he reminded himself. For just a little while longer.

The professor worked in silence for the next few minutes. He gently rubbed the balm into the bruises around the boy's eyes and the rest of his face. The child remained silent as well, his gaze still avoiding any kind of direct eye contact with the man before him.

"I'm going to move on to your neck now," Severus finally murmured, waiting for the boy's tiny nod before proceeding.

But even with the warning, Harry flinched and pulled away as Severus' long fingers brushed against the skin near his throat.

"I'm sorry," the boy said quickly, wrapping his arms tightly around his middle as he leaned back against the couch, his eyes squeezed shut.

"There is no need to apologize," Severus replied evenly, not at all surprised by the boy's reaction. After all, the last time someone had had their hands on the boy's neck, they had clearly been strangling him.

Harry sighed, hugging himself tighter.

"We can come back to the neck later if you like," Severus suggested.

Harry nodded, reaching up to swipe a stray tear from his face. "Yes, please."

Severus' hold tightened on the bruise balm as his jaw clenched once more. He was going to need to down an entire bottle of firewhiskey after this.

"Alright," the man finally nodded. "Let's work on your arms next. You'll need to take your shirt off for me, please."

Predictably, the boy tensed and began shaking his head. "That isn't necessary, sir," he responded quietly. "I can just roll up my sleeves."

Severus sighed. "I would also like to take a look at your torso."

The boy froze. "But there's nothing-"

"I'd like to see for myself," Severus interrupted. He certainly couldn't count on the boy to be forthcoming about the extent of his injuries.

"Sir, please-"

Severus closed his eyes briefly and once again sighed. "I can cast a diagnostic spell if you are quite certain there are no further injuries hiding underneath your clothing." He paused for a moment as a guilty look crossed the child's face at those words. "However, if, as I suspect, there are more bruises or cuts that need medical attention, I request that you remove your shirt for me. Now."

Though he had spoken in a far softer tone than he was usually accustomed to, Severus put as much authority into that final word as he could manage in that moment. Harry's gaze immediately dropped to his lap as he considered his options. And then finally, after several seconds of thought, the boy unfolded his arms and began unbuttoning his shirt with trembling fingers.

"Do you need help?" the professor asked, eying the boy's wrist.

Harry shook his head, his eyes on his lap. "I can do it," he whispered.

Severus nodded and looked across the room towards the grandfather clock in the corner. He would need to contact Albus soon. And Poppy. He would have to figure out a way to convince the boy to allow the mediwitch to examine him.

Not that the child had a choice in the matter, of course. But the last thing the potions master wanted to do now was to destroy that bit of trust he had somehow managed to build with the boy.

Turning back to his charge, Severus noticed that Harry had finished unbuttoning his shirt and had shrugged the fabric off of his shoulders. As he had expected, the bruising didn't stop at the boy's neck.

"I got into a fight with my cousin's friends," the child explained hastily, still speaking to his knees as he finished pulling his arms out of the sleeves.

Severus knew instantly that the boy was lying. He could hear it in the child's trembling voice. "Turn to the side, please," the professor stated clearly, lowering himself onto the couch next to the young Gryffindor. "I want to see your back."

Reluctantly, Harry shifted his body so that his teacher had a clear view of the welts and bruises that had been hiding under his shirt.

Severus inhaled and exhaled slowly as he silently counted to ten. Then he dipped his fingers into the bruise balm and gently began working into the darkened area near the boy's shoulder.

"These marks," the man began, noticing how the boy immediately tensed up when he began speaking. "Some of them appear to be from a belt buckle."

There was no response, and the boy remained absolutely still.

"Did your uncle do this to you?" Severus asked then, deciding that it was time to get straight to the point. Taking things slowly only seemed to be torturing the boy more.

Harry immediately let out an involuntary gasp. It was answer enough for Severus.

"Why, Harry?" Severus asked, reaching over to select another cream from the pile of supplies on the coffee table.

Yet again, Harry swiped at his face with his uninjured hand. He was silent at first. And for a moment, Severus was sure the boy would simply refuse to answer. But then finally, after several long seconds, he heard the whisper in the otherwise silent room.

"It was my fault."

"What do you mean?" Severus asked, beginning to work the new cream into one of the boy's welts.

"I did something bad," Harry responded, lifting his head to look straight into the fireplace as the sting from the medicine caused him to flinch slightly. "I needed to be punished."

Severus swallowed his anger and pressed on. He needed to keep the boy talking, to distract him from the pain. "What did you do, Harry?"

The child hesitated. Then he let out a soft whimper and shook his head.

"Why can't you tell me?" the potions master asked, careful to keep his voice in an even tone.

The boy swallowed another sob as he hurriedly whispered his next words. "I don't want to be expelled, sir. Please, I can't be expelled. I won't have anywhere else to go."

"Alright, calm down, child," Severus stated then, placing a steady hand carefully on the boy's shoulder as he took in this new information. Then, confident that the headmaster would agree wholeheartedly with his next statement, he continued. "You have my word, Potter. You will not be expelled. We can work through this together. Just explain it to me."

Harry hugged himself tightly as he struggled to find the words. Severus remained silent for a moment, giving the child the chance to find his Gryffindor courage.

"I did magic," the boy eventually breathed, so softly that Severus, even with his bat-like hearing, nearly missed it.

"You did magic at home?" the man prompted, careful to show no emotion in his voice.

Harry gave a nearly imperceptible nod. "I didn't mean to. It was an accident," he said, a little louder this time.

"So you performed accidental magic." Severus stated, his mind suddenly racing. "You must have been in a very difficult situation to have performed accidental magic at your age. What happened?"

Harry took in a breath. And then the words were suddenly tumbling from his mouth. "I was just trying to…Uncle Vernon wanted me to help her. And I was going to, but I didn't know how. But my uncle said if I did help her, I could stay...so I looked for a spell. But there just wasn't anything. I didn't know what to do…And then she made me upset and I…"

"Slow down, Potter," Severus stated calmly, trying his best to piece the story together as the child rambled. "Your uncle wanted you to help whom?"

"His sister," Harry answered, after a moment's hesitation. "Aunt Marge. She had an accident and she couldn't walk anymore."

"And what exactly did your uncle want you to do for her?" Severus asked, confused.

"He wanted me to make her better," Harry answered, still practically whispering.

And suddenly, Severus made the connection. "With magic," he stated, hardly able to believe what he was hearing.

"Yes, sir."

"Is your uncle not aware that you are forbidden from doing magic outside of school?" Severus nearly growled.

Harry bit his lip before answering. "He knows, sir. But I think he was just so worried about his sister. He wasn't thinking clearly."

Severus sighed, doing his best to suppress his mounting anger. "Do not make excuses for him, Potter," he stated sternly. "It was extremely reckless and irresponsible for him to ask a child to perform such a task."

"Yes, sir," the boy responded softly, though Severus thought that he didn't sound entirely convinced.

"What happened, Harry?" Severus prompted as he continued working the medicine into the skin of the child's back.

"I wanted to help," Harry repeated, once again speaking in a rush. "But I didn't know how. I looked through all of my textbooks. But there wasn't anything there. I was getting desperate…"

Severus could tell from the boy's voice that he was once again nearing tears. He paused for a moment to yet again offer a reassuring squeeze to the boy's shoulder as he felt his own anger begin to boil beneath the surface. "Did your uncle threaten to hurt you if you could not help his sister?" the man asked, as even more of the pieces of the puzzle began falling into place.

The boy let out a small gasp but then began shaking his head.

"Then how do you explain these bruises, Potter?" Severus asked calmly. "I know your uncle gave them to you."

"It was my fault," the boy insisted once again, wincing as the medicine touched a tender patch of skin near his right shoulder.

"How so?" Severus asked as evenly as possible. If he could just keep the child talking…

"I wanted to help. But she started saying things…nasty things…about my parents. I just got so angry."

"Your uncle's sister started saying things?" Severus asked, determined to keep all the parts of the story straight.

Harry nodded at the question. "Yes, sir."

"And you got angry." Severus repeated the child's words.

Harry nodded.

"What happened next?"

The boy didn't answer right away. He clenched and unclenched his hand into a fist, likely trying to decide if he had said too much already. But finally, at long last, he spoke again. "Before I knew it, my magic just sort of…reacted…and Aunt Marge started blowing up like a balloon."

"You cast an accidental inflation charm?" Severus inquired, eyebrows raised.

Harry nodded, suddenly hugging himself tighter still. "Please don't tell anyone, professor," the boy choked out. "If the ministry found out—"

"Calm yourself, child," Severus interrupted, noting the rising level of panic in the boy's voice. "There's no need to worry about those imbeciles at the ministry."

"But why didn't they detect it?" Harry asked nervously, more to himself than to his professor.

Severus screwed the lid back onto the jar of medicine he had been rubbing into the boy's back. He was fairly certain he knew exactly why the ministry hadn't detected any magic at Potter's home. He just didn't know if it would be wise to explain it to the child. "Never mind that now," he said. "What happened after you inflated your uncle's sister?"

"He got angry," Harry whispered, after another few seconds had passed, his eyes still locked onto the flames of the fireplace.

"Your uncle," Severus stated. It wasn't a question.

Harry nodded, but remained otherwise silent.

"And he hurt you," Severus continued, only just managing to keep the fury from his voice.

"But it was my fau—"

"Enough," Severus growled, causing the child to flinch slightly at the professor's tone of voice. But in that moment, Severus just couldn't keep his frustration contained. "I forbid you from uttering that sentence again."

"But—"

"I mean it, Potter. This is not in any way, shape, or form, your fault. There is no excuse for what he has done."

Harry didn't respond.

"Look at me, Potter," Severus stated clearly then.

Harry hesitated before turning his body and lifting his watery eyes to meet the professor's gaze.

"You realize he was in the wrong don't you?" the man demanded. "Abuse is never acceptable."

"I'm not abused, sir," Harry responded automatically, shaking his head. "It's never been this bad before. Uncle Vernon was just upset about Aunt Marge."

Severus closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as his brain worked to process the utter sincerity in the child's words. He found himself wondering in that moment if he owned anything stronger than firewhiskey.

"It's true," Harry rushed to explain. "This is the first time Uncle Vernon's ever been that angry. His punishments aren't normally so bad."

"And tell me, Potter," Severus asked, not even attempting to keep the scowl off his face as he began examining the bruises on the boy's right arm. "How bad are the punishments, normally?"

The child swallowed around a lump in his throat. "Not too bad," he whispered, his voice holding a little less conviction than just a moment ago.

"I see," Severus murmured, deciding not to push the issue any further just then. "And where was your Aunt Petunia during all of this?" he asked, his expression morphing into one of distaste at the thought of Lily's sister.

"Aunt Petunia didn't hurt me," Harry stated quickly, once again shaking his head.

No. She just stood back and let it happen, the man thought to himself bitterly. Oh, how he was looking forward to hexing that woman and her husband into oblivion. And he would enjoy every second of it, too.

"Shall we try working on your neck again?" the man asked then, determined to divert his thoughts to what was most important in that moment.

Harry instinctively lifted his hand to brush against his neck.

"I'll be as careful as I can be," Severus attempted to reassure the boy.

Harry bit his lip, turning his head to once again look into the fireplace. But eventually, the boy nodded. "Okay."

It was silent for a long while then as Severus continued to work on the child's injuries. Harry kept his eyes shut tight the entire time the potions master worked on his neck, only opening them again when the man reassured him that he was finally finished. Severus noted that the child had made a valiant effort not to flinch away while he worked, though the boy remained tense the entire time, his arms wrapped tightly around his middle.

"I'll work on your arms and chest next," Severus informed the boy, finally coming to a decision. "And then I believe you could use some rest."

"But I'm not tired, sir."

"Yes, Potter. You are," the man responded firmly.

"I'll never be able to sleep," the child muttered, shaking his head as he ran a trembling hand through his hair.

"I'll provide you with a potion," Severus explained. "Now move your arms for me."

The boy reluctantly unfolded his arms and moved them away from his chest.

Severus took in the bruising around the boy's ribs with a critical eye. "Have you been having trouble breathing?" he eventually asked.

Harry shrugged.

"You know how I feel about shrugging," the man stated firmly, aiming his wand at the boy's torso and casting a silent diagnostic spell.

"Sorry, sir," Harry answered, hunching his shoulders slightly. "It hurts a little bit. But not so much since you gave me that pain potion."

"I'll be giving you another potion in a moment," the man replied, reading the parchment that had popped into existence at his side. "It looks as though you've cracked a rib, Mr. Potter."

"Oh," the boy said simply, his eyes dropping to his lap.

Severus sighed. "I believe it is time to send for Madam Pomfrey."

"Please don't, sir," Harry begged, his head immediately shooting back up. "I feel so much better already. I don't need to see her."

"Did you not hear what I just said, Potter?" the potions master demanded, incredulous. "You've cracked a rib. You need medical attention from a certified healer."

"But you can fix it, can't you sir?" Harry asked, the anxiety clear in his voice. "Just like you did for my wrist?"

"Your confidence in my abilities as a healer is both flattering and misplaced, Mr. Potter," Severus sighed. "Madam Pomfrey will still need to take a look at your wrist. And as for your rib, I will not risk damaging any of your internal organs merely because you would rather not see a healer."

Harry bit his lip and looked away.

"There is no need to be afraid of Madam Pomfrey, Potter."

"I'm not afraid," the boy whispered. "I just don't want anyone else to know."

"I know," Severus answered. "But you need medical attention. And Madam Pomfrey will be discreet."

Harry took in a shaky breath as he folded his arms once more.

"Do I have to?" he finally whispered, almost too softly to hear.

Severus let out yet another sigh and rubbed a hand over his weary eyes before finally giving an answer. "Yes, Potter. You do."

There was silence in the living room then. Harry just continued to stare down at his knees, clearly doing his best to fight back any more tears.

"I'll have her come straight here," Severus explained, reaching out to put his hand on the child's shoulder once more. "You won't have to go to the hospital wing."

Harry suddenly glanced up, his eyes roaming around the walls of his professor's living room as a thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Don't worry," Severus guessed what the boy was thinking. "There are no prattling portraits here to spread gossip around the castle. You are safe here."

The child sighed in relief.

"Shall I call her then?" Severus asked, finally getting to his feet.

The boy clenched and unclenched his hand a few times, before finally raising his shoulder in a quick half-shrug.

It was as close to consent as Severus knew he was likely to get. And so without any further hesitation, he walked over to the fireplace and reached for the floo powder on the mantle. "Wait one moment," he said to the child, before tossing the powder into the flames.

The potions master took note of how much the boy's eyes widened as the flames suddenly turned green. This must be the boy's first encounter with the floo network, he realized. "Poppy, could you come through please?" the man called into the flames.

The child's face morphed into one of complete confusion. And then surprise soon followed when, a moment later, a figure suddenly appeared in the flames and the mediwitch stepped into the living room.

"Severus, what—" Poppy began, before her eyes suddenly settled on Harry, who was deliberately avoiding eye contact with the pair of adults in the room. Her mouth fell slightly open then, and the woman immediately made to move forward towards the boy.

But Severus quickly took a step to the side to block her path, hastily throwing up a silencing charm around the two of them.

"Severus, what is this? What happened to him?" Poppy demanded, clearly shocked.

Severus sighed. "It would appear that Mr. Potter has been suffering abuse at the hands of his relatives, Poppy."

The mediwitch instantly paled. "Abuse? But that's not … how can that be? How could we have all missed—"

"That is a question we will all have to contend with," Severus interrupted, attempting to strengthen his occlumency shields once more as he felt his anger suddenly surge towards the woman who had likely had more opportunity than anyone else to discover what was going on with Potter. The brat had to be one of her most frequent patients after all.

"But for now," the man continued, "the boy needs medical attention. I've done what I can for the bruises on his back, neck, face, and arms. I've also set his broken wrist. I thought it best to leave the cracked rib to you."

Madam Pomfrey just stood there for a moment in shock, trying to absorb all of this new information.

"I will be paying a visit to the headmaster now," Severus stated, suddenly making a decision. Looking at the mediwitch, he realized that he would not be able to keep his fury contained any longer. He needed to get out of the room. "Call me when you have finished treating the boy. Try not to ask him too many questions and be sure to give him a sleeping potion when you're done."

Normally, Madam Pomfrey would have bristled at the idea of being ordered around in such a manner. But the look on the professor's face and the tone of his voice were apparently enough to keep her from speaking out in that moment.

And with that, the man canceled the silencing spell and once again reached for the floo powder. "I will be back," he stated then, so that Harry could hear him as he tossed the powder into the fireplace once again.

The boy's head immediately shot up. "Sir?" he asked, his voice full of anxiety.

"Do as Madam Pomfrey says, Potter. I will be back shortly."

And then, before those accursed green eyes could stare at him any longer, the man called out, "Albus Dumbledore's office," as he stepped into the flames.

A/N: Feedback is appreciated! Next chapter, Snape will confront Dumbledore. This should go well :)

Thanks for reading!

-Ailee17

April 19, 2020