Chapter 1 – Return to Hogwarts

Eleven-year-old Harry Potter sat morosely on the sparse bed of the smallest bedroom at 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, studying his History of Magic textbook with growing boredom. History had never been one of his favourite subjects, even in his Muggle school, and he could not, of the life of him, get himself interested in the antics of Uric the Oddball and Elric the Elder anymore. The first time he had read the text, it had been interesting, perhaps for the sheer novelty of it. The second time around, he had fallen asleep with his nose buried in Chapter 10. The third time, he could not progress beyond Chapter 5.

With a long-suffering sigh, he set aside his History of Magic text and picked up his Potions book. This subject was interesting, and one of his favourites. He found Transfiguration equally interesting, as was his Defence Against the Dark Arts text, though his favourite remained Hogwarts: A History. Unlike his History of Magic book, Hogwarts: A History was actually interesting. He could barely wait for school to begin.

The Dursleys had left him alone in his room for the remainder of the summer, pushing his food through the cat-flap on his door, and letting him out to use the washroom twice a day. Harry was thankful, for it gave him time to familiarise himself with his school books. He was determined to learn as much as he could, for he feared being the last in his class, especially after his meeting with the blond boy at the robe shop.

Harry still found it difficult to believe that he was famous in the Wizarding World. He had avidly read every mention of his name in the books he had, but there was little by way of information about him or his parents, except that they had worked with Dumbledore against Voldemort, Voldemort had killed his parents and had vanished while trying to kill the infant Harry.

Hedwig hooted, bringing Harry out of his reverie. Harry pulled out the train ticket Hagrid had given him, and stared at it for a long time. Hogwarts Express, Platform Nine and Three Quarters, King's Cross, it said. Harry sighed, wondering how to get to London on September 1st without the aid of his relatives. He thought about writing to Hagrid with his dilemma, but he was not sure if Hagrid would be able to help, and he certainly did not want any further magical incidents with the Dursleys.

Harry opened the bookmarked page of his book A Guide to the Wizarding World to the chapter on magical transportation. As far as he could figure out, there were only two options he could avail of – the Knight Bus and Apparition. Floo was out of the question, he neither had Floo powder nor a working fireplace connected to the Floo network. He did not have a broomstick to fly, either, assuming he knew how. He frowned at the section on Portkeys. It could work, but he did not know how to make one. He thumbed through the pages, looking for a way to figure out how to use the Knight Bus. Unfortunately, he could not find any. He read that Apparition required a license, which he did not have. For that matter, he did not know how to Apparate either.

"How am I supposed to get to London, Hedwig?" Harry asked despondently. His owl hooted in sympathy.

The answer came to Harry in his dreams that night. He dreamt of an old man with twinkling eyes and a flowing white beard.

"So, young Harry, in a bit of a spot, are you?"

Harry nodded sadly. "I don't know how to get to London."

The old man nodded thoughtfully. "You could always fly, you know."

"I don't have a broom."

The old man laughed. "My dear boy, who says you need a broom to fly? Fly as a bird!"

Harry frowned.

"Remember, young Harry, have you never flown as a bird before?"

A vague memory of wings and a black hawk floated by and then, landing on the school roof, Dudley and his gang chasing him.

Harry nodded. "But I don't know how I did that."

The old man smiled softly. "Of course you do, Harry, you just have to remember." He turned away.

"Wait!" Harry called. "Who are you?"

The old man smiled and shook his head. "I am a figment of your imagination, my boy."

"So this is just in my head?" Harry demanded. "This is not real?"

"Of course it is in your head, Harry. Why should that make it not real?"

Before Harry could utter another word, the old man disappeared.

Harry woke up with a splitting headache the next morning. He stayed in bed all day, wondering about the old man and the hawk. Could he really become the hawk? Even if he did, how would he carry his luggage?

"A shrinking charm," he thought suddenly. He remembered reading about it a few days ago. Hurriedly, he pulled out his Charms book, read through the section again, practiced the incantation and wand movement, and was ready to cast the spell.

Harry was surprised to be able to cast the spell successfully on Hedwig's cage in his first attempt. Grinning, he tried it on his trunk as well. It worked. It took him barely any time to master the un-shrinking charm as well.

"Just need to get the bird thing done," he murmured to himself.

It took him almost a week before he could successfully transform into a hawk. He practiced flying with Hedwig at night. By the end of August, Harry could transform with barely a thought.

It was time to go to Hogwarts.

12.01 AM, September 1, 1991

Dudley's old alarm clock, meticulously repaired by Harry, let out a soft beep and Harry jumped up from his bed instantly. He dressed quickly, shrunk his trunk and Hedwig's cage and wrapped them up in brown paper with a string. Hedwig held out her leg, and he quickly tied the parcel to her leg.

"To London, girl," Harry said softly, stroking Hedwig's feathers. Hedwig nipped at his finger and flew out of the window. She hovered there impatiently, clearly beckoning him to join her.

Harry transformed into a jet-black hawk with brilliant green eyes and a white lightning bolt on his forehead. He gave one last look at his room, checked the note he had left for the Dursleys at the door and joined his owl.

The two birds flew side by side, Hedwig guiding Harry.

They reached King's Cross at 9.00 AM. Harry was exhausted from his flight. He imagined Hedwig was equally tired, if not more. They landed on a secluded corner of the station, and Harry quickly changed back. He restored his luggage and Hedwig's cage, found a trolley, loaded the trunk and the cage. Hedwig quietly retired to her cage and fell asleep promptly.

Harry pushed the cart into the station and stood between platforms nine and ten, wondering how to locate his platform. He tried asking the Station Master, who thought he was teasing him and sent him off with an earful. Tired and anxious, Harry glanced at the clock. Ten thirty. Hogwarts Express left at eleven.

"…packed with Muggles, of course…"

Harry whipped around to see a red-haired family with a chubby, middle-aged woman, four boys and a girl walking towards a column. He saw the tallest boy walk into the column, but he could not see exactly what he did, for a few Muggles obstructed his vision. Harry ran towards the family as fast as his legs could carry him.

"Excuse me, Ma'am," he addressed the woman, "Could you please tell me how to get to Platform Nine and Three Quarters?"

The red-haired woman smiled at him and patted his head. "Hogwarts, dear? It is my Ron's first year, too." She pointed at the smallest boy, who was still taller than Harry by a fair bit. "Just watch Fred and George."

The identical boys ran into the column and disappeared. Harry gaped.

"Best to do it in a bit of a run if you are nervous, dear," the woman told him. "Why don't you and Ron go together?"

The red-haired boy shared a nervous smile with Harry, and they both broke into a run. Harry's eyes closed involuntarily as he expected to run into the pillar. He did not.

"Merlin!" Harry heard the exclamation of his red-haired companion and opened his eyes. He could not help the grin that broke out on his face. He was on Platform Nine and Three Quarters, and Hogwarts Express, in all its glory, stood before him.

Ron was claimed by his brothers and Harry quickly cast a lightweight charm on his trunk and dragged it into an empty compartment. He put down Hedwig's cage (she was still fast asleep) and put some owl treats into her bowl, then sank onto a seat near the window with an exhausted sigh. He fell asleep almost immediately.

Harry was woken up by a knock on his compartment door. Ron, the red-haired boy, looked in. "Sorry," he said, "Everywhere else is full, can I sit here?"

Harry nodded sleepily as Ron came in and sat down on the opposite seat.

"Ronald Weasley," he said. "Everyone calls me Ron."

"Harry Potter," Harry replied.

Ron's eyebrows disappeared into his hair. "Are you really?"

"All my life," Harry said, grinning.

Harry chatted with Ron for a while, bought sweets from the nice old witch with the trolley and shared them with Ron. It was nice to have someone to share sweets with.

Ron introduced him to Chocolate Frogs and the cards that came with it. Harry opened his first Chocolate Frog and pulled out the card. He froze at the picture. It was the old man from his dream.

"All right, Harry?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded absently and looked down at the name on the card. Albus Dumbledore.

"Ah, Dumbledore," Ron said, looking down at the card. "He's the Headmaster at Hogwarts."

Harry was still in shock. "Listen, Ron," he said quietly, "I've had a bit of a rough night…do you mind if I sleep for a bit?"

Ron grinned at him. "Not at all. I'll take a bit of a nap myself."

They slept peacefully for a few hours, and were woken up by a knock on the compartment door.

A bushy-haired girl looked in. "Have you seen a toad? A boy named Neville has lost his," she said.

Ron frowned and shook his head. Harry noticed a small movement near the girl's feet. He held out his hand and the toad flew into his palm.

"This one?" he asked the girl.

"Probably," she said, carefully taking the toad from him, "I don't think anyone else got a toad." She looked him over. "That was quite impressive. Wandless magic is supposed to be very advanced magic."

Harry grinned. Ron looked at him in awe.

"I'm Hermione Granger, by the way," the girl said.

"Ron Weasley."

"Harry Potter."

Hermione blinked. "You're the famous child I've been reading about in the books? The one who defeated Lord Voldemort?"

Harry blushed and nodded. Ron paled and muttered, "Don't say the name."

"What's in a name?" Harry asked. "Even Hagrid kept saying You-Know-Who."

Ron was saved from a reply by a chubby boy stumbling into their compartment. "Hermione, did you find Trevor?" he asked.

Hermione held out the toad to him.

"Trevor!" he cried happily.

"Neville, meet Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. Ron, Harry, this is Neville Longbottom," Hermione introduced. "Harry found Trevor, Neville."

Neville thanked Harry shyly. Harry invited Hermione and Neville to sit with them. They chatted pleasantly.

"My brother Fred taught me a spell," Ron said suddenly.

"Let's see it, then," Hermione piped up.

Ron pulled out his pet rat Scabbers from his pocket and pointed his wand at him. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!"

Nothing happened.

"Umm…Ron, are you sure that's a real spell?" Hermione asked tentatively. "I thought they were mostly Latin-based…I tried a few from the books, they all worked for me."

Ron went red, then slumped. "The twins are always making fun of me," he said crossly. "I wouldn't put it past them to teach me a false spell."

The compartment door opened again and the blond boy from the robe shop looked in, with two large boys who were as big as Dudley.

"Oh, it's you," the blond boy said, looking at Harry. He looked around at the others and announced, "I'm Draco Malfoy. This is Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle."

"Hermione Granger."

"Ronald Weasley."

"Neville Longbottom."

"Harry Potter."

Draco sucked in a breath. "So it's true, then...Harry Potter is coming to Hogwarts with us."

Harry nodded.

Draco turned to Ron. "Weasley…my father says all Weasleys have red hair, freckles and more children than they can afford." Ron blushed furiously while Draco appraised him. "You do seem better dressed than Potter, though."

He turned to Harry. "I know you're rich, the Potters had plenty of money, so why are you dressed in rags worse than the poorest of peasants?"

"Long story," Harry said quietly. "You don't want to know."

Draco nodded. "You will soon learn that some wizarding families are better than others, Harry. I can help you there."

Ron snorted and Draco glared at him.

"My blood is as pure as yours, Malfoy," Ron said casually, "Don't you dare."

Draco nodded curtly at Ron and turned to Neville. "Longbottom…can't fault your blood, either." Neville looked at him worriedly, then went back to patting Trevor.

Draco frowned at Hermione. "Granger, as in the Australian Grangers?"

She shook her head and said brightly, "My parents are dentists. It was quite a shock for them, me turning out to be a witch and all."

The change in the room was immediate. Ron and Neville looked at her in fascination, and Draco sputtered, "You're a Mudblood?"

To Harry's surprise, Ron and Neville jumped up from their seats with their wands drawn out at Malfoy, while Crabbe and Goyle snickered. He figured "mudblood" was an offensive term for a Muggle-born.

"Guys, calm down," Hermione said, trying to sound calm, but Harry could feel she was nervous.

"Don't insult her ever again," Neville said fiercely. Ron nodded, looking as fierce as him.

There were two spots of colour on Draco's pale cheeks, and he said quietly, "My father says they should not let Mud – Muggle-borns into Hogwarts. How would they know the basics of magic? Would Granger here be able to perform a summoning charm? Would she know anything about, say, a mandrake? Could she turn your toad into a butterfly? Does she know about the Dark Lord, even?"

Hermione stood up, looking as angry as Ron and Neville. She pulled out her wand. "A summoning charm, you say? They don't teach it at Hogwarts till the Fourth Year, but…accio wand." Draco's wand flew smoothly from his pocket into Hermione's hand. "I suspect I know more about a mandrake plant, or a mandragora, than you, Malfoy. We shall see when they teach us in Herbology next year…if you don't faint from their cries, that is." Draco paled. Hermione waved her wand at Crabbe, and he turned into a butterfly. She waved her wand again, and Crabbe was human again. She smiled. "Voldemort was nothing but a coward who tried to kill a baby – and look where it got him."

All the boys in the compartment were staring at her in awe. It was Harry who clapped his hands first, and everyone joined him. Hermione blushed.

"Wow," Draco Malfoy said to her. "You are brilliant!" He shuffled awkwardly. "I apologise for my inappropriate words."

Hermione nodded and gave him a small smile.

"So…," Draco said, "Do you guys play Quidditch?"

The next hour was spent with Ron and Draco educating the rest of them about Quidditch and every aspect of the game.

Percy Weasley looked in later and advised them to change into their school robes, as they would be reaching soon.

Hagrid greeted Harry warmly and gave him a bone-crushing hug. Since he had never been hugged before, Harry felt strange, but in a nice way. He introduced Hagrid to his new friends and they all proceeded to the boats with the rest of the first years.

Their first sight of Hogwarts was breath-taking. Harry stared unblinking at the fairy-tale castle that loomed up in front of them and felt a foreign sensation of homecoming, of belonging. Gradually, he became aware of Hermione watching him with a concerned frown on her face. He gave her a tremulous smile.

"All right, Harry?" she asked anxiously. He nodded, feeling a little stupid.

They were met by Professor McGonagall at the entrance, and she led them to the Great Hall for the Sorting. They had already met some of the ghosts while waiting to enter the Great Hall, and Harry had felt strangely drawn to them. The Fat Friar had winked at him.

The first years had collectively jumped when the Sorting Hat broke into a song, and when it was done, they clapped the hardest. And then, finally, the Sorting began. Harry barely noticed who went where until…

"Crabbe, Vincent."

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted. The second table burst into applause. Crabbe looked equally crushed and relieved.

A few more students were sorted, then it was Goyle's turn. He was sorted into Hufflepuff as well. He looked happier than Crabbe and went to join him at the table.

"Granger, Hermione."

The Sorting Hat took a long time to decide. Finally, it said, "RAVENCLAW!" Hermione smiled at Harry and joined the clapping students of the third table.

"Longbottom, Neville."

Neville looked ill. It was several minutes before the Hat announced, "GRYFFINDOR!" Neville looked immensely relieved as he made his way to the first table.

"Malfoy, Draco."

The Hat barely touched his head before it cried, "SLYTHERIN!" Draco smiled brightly and made his way to the last table, which was cheering for him.

"Potter, Harry."

As Harry made his way to the stool, the hall was eerily silent. He glanced at the openly curious faces and pulled the hat over his head.

A small voice spoke in his head. "Difficult…very difficult. Plenty of talent, oh my goodness, yes, and a nice thirst to prove yourself. Loyal as a Hufflepuff, brave as a Gryffindor, smart as a Ravenclaw and ambitious as a Slytherin…now where shall I put you, dear boy?"

"Where I could belong," Harry thought timidly.

"Ah yes. You could be great, you know, it's all there in your head, and I will put you on your way to greatness. SLYTHERIN!" The last word was shouted to the hall.

Harry took off the hat and made his way to the table Draco had gone to. The hall was still silent. A few of the teachers were staring at him with abject horror, so were most of the students. Harry's new friends smiled weakly at him. Then the Slytherin table broke out into roaring applause. Harry heaved a sigh of relief and dropped into the chair next to Draco. He watched the next few students being sorted.

"Weasley, Ronald."

"GRYFFINDOR!" Ron's brothers jumped up, clapping, and the Gryffindor table welcomed him with open arms.

"We all got sorted into different houses," Harry told Draco, who nodded solemnly.

"Well, you're the surprise one – my family has been in Slytherin for generations, Ron and Neville come from a long line of Gryffindors, Hermione's too smart to go anywhere but Ravenclaw – as for Crabbe and Goyle…well, they are slow, but loyal – so, if not Slytherin, Hufflepuff would be expected. But you, everyone expected you to be Gryffindor's golden boy – the hero of the wizarding world! Instead, you wound up in the house of the Dark Lord."

"Yes, Hagrid told me Voldemort was in Slytherin…but it is not fair, is it, to judge a complete house for the actions of one maniac?" Harry said, frowning.

"Most of his supporters came from Slytherin, too."

"Oh. So they think I will be the next dark lord?"

"Probably," Draco gave him a searching look. "Will you?"

"Not if I can help it," Harry replied, grinning.

He looked up at the staff table. His eyes met Dumbledore's, and the old wizard raised his glass to him slightly. Harry smiled back shyly, then looked at the other teachers. Professor McGonagall gave him a small smile as well. Professor Quirrell was speaking to a black-haired which next to him. As Harry's eyes passed Quirrell to the sallow man next to him, he felt a sharp pain in his scar.

"Who's that, next to Professor Quirrell?" he asked.

"That's Professor Snape, he is the Potions Master and he is our Head of House," a fifth year prefect named Lynch answered.

Harry looked at Professor Snape again, who seemed to be regarding him with a strange expression on his face. Harry smiled tentatively, and Snape glared at him. Harry quickly looked down at his plate.

Dumbledore announced that the third floor corridor was out of bounds and dangerous, and so was the Forbidden Forest.

Then the feast began.

Harry had never seen so much food at one place. He started out eating heartily, but after the near-starvation he had suffered with the Dursleys, he found himself feeling sick almost immediately.

"Harry? Are you all right?" Draco asked anxiously. "You look a little green."

"I feel a little sick. I think I ate too much."

Draco looked at his plate and frowned. "You have barely eaten."

Harry shook his head and drank some pumpkin juice, which was surprisingly delicious. He pushed his plate away. He sipped his juice for the rest of the evening, trying very hard to push down his nausea, not noticing Draco signalling Hermione, and Hermione signalling Ron and Neville, and the concern in their eyes.

Their first lesson was Transfiguration with the Gryffindors. Harry and Draco got to sit with Ron and Neville and were pleased to catch up with their friends. Most Gryffindors and Slytherins, however, shot them dirty looks.

Professor McGonagall was a strict, but great teacher. Their first lesson was to turn a toothpick into a needle. Harry was the only one in the class who successfully transfigured his toothpick, earning a small smile from McGonagall. She stopped by his desk and said quietly, "Well done, Mr. Potter. Your father would be very proud. Transfiguration was his favourite subject." A little louder, she announced to the class, "A perfect needle, Mr. Potter. Five points to Slytherin."

Harry could not stop smiling all the way to his next lesson, Potions, with Ravenclaw. Hermione had made friends with another Ravenclaw girl called Susan Bones, who was introduced to Draco and Harry. Harry teamed up with Hermione and Susan teamed up with Draco.

Professor Snape made a dramatic entrance and started his lesson with an impressive speech, managing to tempt and insult them at the same time. He proceeded to take a roll call, and stopped at Harry's name.

"Harry Potter," he said softly. "Our new celebrity."

Harry stared at his desk. A few students snickered.

"Tell me, Mr. Potter," Snape said in a dangerous voice, "What do you get if you added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Hermione's hand shot up and Harry racked his brains. "Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death, Sir," he said quietly.

"What is the difference between monkswood and wolfsbane?" Snape barked.

"They are the same, I think, Sir," Harry replied. Hermione nodded sagely next to him.

"Where would you find a bezoar?"

"In the stomach of a goat, Sir."

Snape looked sour. "Why aren't the rest of you writing it down? Are you all as clever as Mr. Potter?"

"Good job, Harry," Hermione whispered to him as Snape moved on to explaining the potion they were to prepare.

Harry could not shake off the feeling that Snape disliked him.

They had Charms with the Hufflepuffs, where they caught up with Crabbe and Goyle. Harry excelled again, and the tiny Professor Flitwick winked at him and told him he was doing as well as his mother. Harry brightened up considerably, and by the time they went to dinner that evening, Snape's dislike had been pushed to the back of his mind.

After a few bites at dinner, Harry felt ill again. He pushed away his plate and sipped his pumpkin juice.

"You can't do this everyday," Draco told him. "You should visit the Hospital Wing."

Harry shook his head.

"Snape's coming this way," a boy called Blaise Zabini, also a first year, warned.

Professor Snape strode to Harry's chair, black cloak billowing behind him, giving the impression of looming giant bat.

"Is the food not up to your lofty standards, Potter?" he sneered.

"The food is amazing, Sir; I just think I ate too much," Harry said quietly.

"And yet your plate appears hardly touched," Snape commented.

"I…umm…" Harry looked up at Snape and heard him draw an audible breath.

"Come with me, Potter," he said with finality and strode out of the hall, Harry running to keep up with him.

Snape led him to the dungeons, to a large office where the walls were lined with jars and bottles of potions and potion ingredients.

"Sit down," Snape barked. "Now tell me, Potter, why were you not consuming your food at dinner?"

"I…umm…" Harry looked down at his shoes. "I felt a little sick, Sir," he said in a small voice.

"Are you unwell?"

"No, Sir," Harry replied hastily. "I am just not used to…" he stopped, horrified at what he had been about to reveal.

"Not used to what, Potter?" Snape asked softly.

Harry remained silent.

"Potter." The warning was evident.

"So much food, Sir," Harry said quietly, staring at the floor, feeling his face going red.

If he had looked up, he would have seen the startled look on Snape's face which very few people had ever seen.

"Did Petunia not feed you at home?" Snape asked.

Harry's head shot up so quickly, his neck popped. "You know Aunt Petunia?" he asked, his face very pale.

"I am aware of her existence, yes," Snape said disdainfully. "According to Minerva, her family are the worst sort of Muggles she has ever seen."

Harry fought against the tears pooling in his eyes. Everyone had known…and no one had cared. Perhaps the Dursleys had been right. He was a freak no one wanted. He belonged to the cupboard under the stairs, shut away from the world.

Severus Snape watched the painfully thin shoulders of the scrawny boy before him, and his bowed head. No, this was no James Potter. James Potter had been healthy, arrogant, a prince comfortable in the knowledge of his power and talent. This boy before him had none of those characteristics.

"Look at me, Potter," Severus said firmly.

The boy did not look up. He sat with his head bowed, shoulders shaking slightly. Severus wondered what was causing him such distress.

"Harry," he called softly. "Harry, what is it? Are the Muggles not treating you well?"

Harry looked up at Snape's concerned face and could not hold it in any longer. Tears fell from his eyes. "Why would the worst sort of Muggles treat me well? I was an unwanted freak, left unannounced on their doorstep."

Severus Snape held his breath. Lily's eyes, on the child's face, filled with pain that Lily had never seen in her life, looked straight at him. He remembered Hagrid's argument with Albus after he had delivered the Hogwarts letter to Potter. The Muggles had been hiding him.

"Harry, you must tell me everything."

Harry shook his head, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "Doesn't matter," he said quietly. "I'm safe for the year."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. The boy was in danger with the Muggles? He knew Albus had placed blood wards there, so keep the boy safe from the Dark Lord's followers, but was the boy being abused by his own relatives?

"Harry," he said carefully. "The Headmaster placed you with Lily's sister to protect you from evil magic. If your Muggle relatives present a danger to your well-being, we must remove you from their care. However, for us to be able to do so, you will have to tell me everything."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. "I can't," he whispered. "I spoke to a teacher once. She believed me and took me to the principal. The Dursleys turned up and said that I was a liar and everyone believed them." He looked up at his Professor. "They are respectable, well-to-do, normal people. I am an urchin dressed in rags, a freak, a waste of space. If anyone had cared, they had ten years to find out about me."

Snape massaged his throbbing temple. "Oh, Merlin," he murmured.

"Child, you are not a freak or waste of space. You are the golden child of the wizarding world; you are the much loved child of Lily and James Potter. There are many, many people who care about you."

"You knew I was there. Professor McGonagall knew I was there. Professor Dumbledore left me there. Why did no one ever bother to check on me if they cared?" Harry cried.

An alien emotion overtook Snape. He knelt down next to Harry's chair and patted his back gently. "Can you show me, Harry? Will you give me permission to look into your mind and gather evidence against the Dursleys?"

Harry nodded.

"Legilimens," Severus said softly. Images, events flew past his brain. He saw the cupboard under the stairs. He saw Marge's dog. He saw the snake at the zoo. He saw Harry cooking, cleaning, washing, and gardening. He saw Vernon and Petunia turn a blind eye and Dudley pummelled Harry to the ground. He saw a drunk and violent Vernon. He saw an annoyed and petty Petunia. He saw the locked door and the cat flap of the smallest bedroom. He saw the meagre meals. He saw the black hawk.

Severus Snape stared at the broken child in front of him. The boy who had perfected his Animagus form at eleven years of age, without any training in magic. The boy who had known no love in his life and yet did not hate. The child that may have been his, had James not swept Lily off her feet.

"Oh, child, if we knew, we would have…I can only apologise to you now. Believe me when I say that I will do everything in my power to keep you from going back. You will never have to live with the Dursleys again," Severus told Harry as sincerely as he could. He swore to himself that he would not let Lily's child come to any further harm, especially from those Muggles.

"You will take me away from them?" The raw hope in the child's voice touched a part of his heart he had long considered dead.

"Yes, child, I promise I will not let you go back to those godforsaken Muggles. I will take you away, with or without Dumbledore's blessing."

Harry nodded. "Thank you," he said softly. He stood up to leave.

"Wait," Severus called. "You must eat. Come with me." He led the boy to his private chambers and indicated a chair at the dining table. Harry took a seat while Snape went to the fireplace, threw in some Floo powder and said, "Hogwarts' Kitchen." A house-elf's face appeared in the fire.

"One very specific order, please. A light chicken soup, easy to digest. A small portion of mashed potatoes, no butter. Some boiled vegetables. A jug of pumpkin juice."

The house-elf nodded excitedly and disappeared.

"What was that?" Harry asked curiously.

"That was a Hogwarts house-elf. I believe his name is Pudgy. Ask me about house-elves some other time, I will explain in detail."

The Potions Master browsed through his cabinet, picked out a vial and placed it before Harry.

"Drink this. It will make you feel better," he said.

Harry was too exhausted to argue. He obediently picked up the vial and drank the purple liquid. Within a few minutes, his nausea disappeared and he felt much better, even slightly hungry. As if reading his mind, food appeared on the table immediately with a faint "pop".

"Eat up," said Severus. He poured out two goblets of pumpkin juice and pushed one towards Harry. Under his watchful eye, Harry, slowly but steadily, finished his meal, and several goblets of pumpkin juice. Once he was done, he was given two more vials, one with a bright green potion and the other with a swirling white potion. He drank both.

"Harry," Severus said kindly, "We have to get you checked up by Madame Pomfrey tomorrow. Please meet me after your flying lessons."

Harry shook his head. "I'm fine, Sir. Those potions really helped."

"Those were just for immediate relief, Harry. Madame Pomfrey will do a full check up and based on her diagnosis we will determine your treatment. You should be able to eat like other boys your age by the end of this week."

Harry found himself going red. "Not required, Sir." Doctors are expensive. Medicines are expensive. We don't have money to waste on you or any trouble caused by you, boy.

Severus knew exactly what was going on in Harry's mind. "Harry," he said softly, "Try not to think about them." Harry nodded.

"If you would like, I could show you some pictures of your mother," Severus said hesitantly. The boy looked up at him with bright eyes, so like his mother.

"I never knew what they looked like. Everyone tells me I look like my dad and have my mum's eyes…"

Severus nodded understandingly. He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a few old photographs. He waved his wand over them and made copies, then took those to Harry. "Here, child, keep them. I am afraid I only have Lily's pictures, but I will ask around for more."

Harry nodded gratefully and took the pictures gingerly. With infinite care, he placed them in his bag.

Severus led him to his dormitory through the Slytherin common room, noting the curious expressions of his Slytherins and the openly concerned face of Draco Malfoy. He tucked Harry into bed, knowing fully well that the boy would spend half the night looking at his mother's photographs. He conjured a small, circular ball of soft light and gave it to Harry, who accepted it gratefully. He did not tell the boy that if he had a nightmare, his Head of House would be alerted instantly through it.

Professor Snape spoke to Draco separately and instructed him to keep an eye out for Harry and not to let anyone disturb him for the night. If there was any trouble, he was to call him right away.

"Is he all right, Sir?" he asked anxiously.

"Mr. Potter has had a very long day, Mr. Malfoy. He will be fine, soon."

Professor McGonagall was surprised to see an agitated Professor Snape in her office at such an hour.

"What is the matter, Severus?"

"Potter. Harry. We have to speak to Dumbledore. Maybe call Hagrid as well."

Since Snape's dislike for Hagrid was pretty well-known, Minerva knew it was serious. She sent her Patronus to call Hagrid and accompanied Severus to the Headmaster's chambers.

"To what do I owe this honour, Minerva, Severus?" Dumbledore asked mildly.

"We need to discuss Harry's situation," Severus said tightly.

Hagrid arrived soon after.

"We need your Pensieve, Albus," Severus said. He pulled out the memories of what he had seen in Harry's mind and put them in the Pensieve. The four of them then entered the swirling memories.

Some time later, four very shocked and traumatised magical people sank down on their chairs in the Headmaster's room. Hagrid was sobbing openly. Minerva had tears in her eyes, and so did Albus. Severus was shaking.

"You didn't know, did you, Albus?" Severus asked sharply.

Dumbledore shook his head.

"We can't send him back there, Albus," Minerva said firmly.

"I tol' yeh," Hagrid sobbed. "Awful Muggles, them!"

"He can stay with me for the summers till he graduates," Severus said.

"If Severus is otherwise occupied at anytime, I'll take him," Minerva said.

"'E can stay wit' me anytime 'e wants," Hagrid said.

Albus nodded sadly. "I will figure out another way to protect him in the absence of the blood wards."