A/N: I've read so many Snape mentors Harry fics lately that I wanted to try my hand at one of my own. This may end up only being a few chapters long, but if I feel so inspired I may turn it into more of a novel-length story.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any subsequent plot, characters, locations etc. Everything belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic Inc., Bloomsbury Publishing and Warner Bros.

Chapter 1

Severus Snape gave an agitated huff as he Apparated silently at the end of Privet Drive, eyes narrowing in the moonlit darkness. Why Dumbledore felt the need to send him on this particular Order assignment he would never know. He could be setting assignments for his N.E.W.T students or brewing to replenish his stores for the upcoming term, but no, he was sent to check on Potter because they hadn't heard from him for a few days. "I'm a spy, not a bloody babysitter," he muttered angrily as he strode towards Number 4. "Potter's probably too busy enjoying getting spoiled like the pampered prince he is to write palsy letters to the wolf."

Inside Number 4, Privet Drive, the Potions Master's assumptions could not have been further from the truth. The moment Harry had returned at the end of term, Uncle Vernon had grabbed his upper arm and half threw-half shoved him into the cupboard under the stairs, which had grown much too small for the sixteen year old. Apparently the Dementor attack on Dudley last summer had been the last straw for Vernon and he had had an entire year to stew and fester on the matter.

"Dudley was attacked because of you and your freakishness!" Vernon had exploded, shoving Harry into the cupboard. "I will not say it again; I will NOT tolerate your abnormality in my home!"

If that had been the worst of it, Harry could have handled it. If only they had just locked him in the cupboard for a couple of days, he would have been okay. Harry was used to not eating a lot when he was with the Dursley's. But Vernon had finally snapped. It was the same thing every morning, ever since Harry had arrived home two weeks ago. At eight o'clock, the door to the cupboard was flung open and Vernon yelled at Harry to get a move on breakfast, yanking on his arm as he did so. The second day, he did this so violently that Harry heard an audible pop as his shoulder was pulled from its socket. Gasping and fighting back the tears welling up in his eyes, Harry leaned against the wall trying to focus on anything but the pain in his right shoulder.

After breakfast was the morning beating, the means by which the beating came varied, but it always promised to be painful. And Vernon never gave him time for his previous wounds to heal so as new ones were added to old, Harry wondered if he would ever stop bleeding. Once his Uncle and cousin had satisfied their sadistic rage, Aunt Petunia would shove him out the door to tend to the yard, not content to let him inside until long past dinner. A stale roll and a glass of water was all he was given for lunch.

The evening beating commenced after a dinner of half of a head of lettuce and cottage cheese. Here Vernon would sit back and cheer Dudley on as he tried out new wrestling moves on his cousin who was stronger than he looked at full strength, but having been starved, worked and beaten, could do nothing to defend himself. His only relief came when he was shoved back in his cupboard once Dudley had finally tired of him.

Harry groaned softly in his cupboard as he turned over on the dilapidated mattress that was masquerading as his bed, trying to find a position that wouldn't cause him excruciating pain. He bumped his wrist against the door as he did so and bit his lip hard to keep from crying out, certain he had broken it "sparring" with Dudley earlier that evening. If only he had his wand, he could defend himself; surely defending your life against your own family met the exception to the Decree Against Underage Sorcery? How long had it been since he had arrived back in Surrey? A week, a month, only days? Time had lost meaning and the days quickly melded one into the next.

He couldn't send a letter with Hedwig, asking for help. For all he knew, Vernon had done away with her, a thought that caused a tear to fall freely down his dirt-stained face. "Please, let someone come," he whispered in the darkness of his cupboard. Ron, Hermione, Sirius, Remus, heck, I'd even take Snape at this point! He thought before succumbing to the darkness that was threatening to overtake him.

The Potions master rapped succinctly on the front door of Number 4 Privet Drive and waited impatiently for someone to answer. Finally, just as he was contemplating a Reductor Curse on the offending obstacle, the door was flung open to reveal a large, pig-faced young man, probably the same age as Potter.

"Yeah?" The boy looked at him rudely and Snape fought the urge to curse him on the spot.

"I am Professor Snape," he said silkily. "I believe this is the residence of Harry Potter? He missed the train to school today and I have been sent to retrieve him."

Small piggy eyes narrowed, as they looked Snape up and down, taking him in, bit by snarky bit. "You want Potter? You'll have to go through me and my dad first. No way is he going back to that freak school."

Just then an even larger figure appeared in the entryway, his complexion reddening in anger as he spotted the Potions professor standing on his front porch. "You!" He exclaimed loudly. "Your kind is not welcome here. Get out if you know what's good for you!"

Snape looked past the boy blocking his way through the door and slowly pulled his wand out of his robes. Without batting an eye he aimed a quick "Petrificus Totalus" at the two abnormally large Muggles blocking his path and stepped over them carefully so as not to disturb anyone else in the house. Ignoring yells of "Vernon" from somewhere beyond the front entryway, Snape began his search for Potter.

"Where is he?" He muttered, exasperated. Now was not the time for hide and seek. Just then, he heard a loud thump coming from the cupboard under the stairs. A thump followed by a tiny grunt. Surely not. Uncertain for one of the first times in his life, Snape walked carefully towards the cupboard, wand out. Placing a hand upon the doorknob and keeping his wand at the ready, he turned the knob and slowly opened the door. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight before him.

If the boy hadn't been facing the door, Snape would not have recognized the bloody pile of rags before him as Harry Potter. The child was completely unrecognizable. His face was swollen and bruises of varying shape, color and size discolored his features. The white undershirt he was wearing had maneuvered it's way up Potter's torso, revealing several long gashes, some of them infected by the looks of it and Snape was shocked to find he could easily count Potter's ribs. Potter cradled his arm close to his chest and groaned once again, eyes fluttering open and closed.

"Merlin, Potter!" Snape exploded softly. "Can you stay out of trouble for two minutes?"

Potter's eyes opened briefly. " 'S'not my fault," he slurred, numb from the pain. "Can't help it 'f n'body likes me."

"We need to get you out of here. Can you stand?" The moment he asked this, he knew this was an idiotic request. Potter was practically unconscious at this point. "Never mind," he said, shaking his head. "Do you know where your wand and school things are?"

Potter shook his head. "Dunno. Prob'ly burned 'em." The thought of having lost his holly and phoenix wand caused another jolt of grief. He had been through a lot with that wand.

Kneeling at Potter's side, Snape carefully placed one arm under the boy's shoulders and one under his knees. "Breathe slowly," he instructed quietly, "I'm going to pick you up. We're going to Apparate outside Hogwarts. We will worry about replacing your things later."

Potter winced and bit his lip again as Snape slowly stood, cradling the boy like a small infant. He was shocked to find just how light the child was, but hid his emotions carefully. Once certain he was secure, Potter nestled his dark head into this shoulder and murmured, "I knew you would come. Thanks for saving me, Sirius."

Snape stiffened at this but for once allowed it to pass. The boy was obviously delirious if he thought his professor was his recently deceased dogfather. "It's not your godfather," he muttered quietly, neglecting to mention the fact of the man's death. No sense in upsetting the boy when he was so grievously injured. "It's your professor."

Professor? Harry's eyes fluttered open and he blinked as he tried to take in the face of the man looking down at him. Professor Snape? It couldn't be! Harry blinked once more in disbelief before murmuring, "Snape? I wasn't serious…."

The professor opted to ignore this comment as well and making sure that Potter was secure, turned on the spot and Disapparated out of Number 4 Privet Drive. He could only hope that he could get the boy up to Poppy in time. They lurched slightly as they landed outside Hogwarts anti-Apparition wards and before Snape could take another step, the malnourished teenager in his arms vomited on the front of his robes without warning.

Lovely. Of course the boy would have a weak constitution and why wouldn't he after how his relatives have treated him?

Snape performed a quick cleaning charm over himself and the boy, then strode purposefully towards the gates, briefly casting the spell to let down the wards into the school as he did so. Managing his wand and Potter was no small task, but Snape was well up to the challenge and they passed through with no problem. If only there were a faster way to the hospital wing.

As though it had heard his unspoken request, Snape turned to the sound of gentle snorting near his left ear. A thestral. Ah, good. It must have smelt the blood and came to investigate. Readjusting Potter in his arms, he lifted him carefully onto the thestral's back, wrapping the boy's arms around the creature's neck. "Hold on, Potter," he whispered, hoping against hope that the son of his childhood enemy still had enough strength to do so. Steadying himself, he grabbed hold of one of the wings and swung up on the thestral's back as well, making sure he had a firm grip upon Potter. "The hospital wing" he commanded the beast below him, "and quickly."

Snape's stomach gave a slight lurch as they took to the sky, but breathed a quick sigh of relief. If they could get the child to Poppy, they might have a chance of saving him. He had never known the Medi-Witch to fail at a task set before her yet. Yes, the physical injuries they could heal with some potions and salves, but the emotional and mental backlash from all the abuse? How would Potter be affected? If he were in the boy's position, Snape would have been furious with Dumbledore for letting him go back to that wretched place every summer. Heck, he was furious with Dumbledore! Looking down at the bloody mess that was Harry Potter, he shook his head in disbelief. How Albus could have let this happen!

They lurched once more as the thestral landed silently outside the Hospital Wing. Snape slid gracefully to the stone floor, keeping a steady hand on Potter as he did so. "Down you get, Potter," he said, helping the boy off the creature and securely into his arms. Aiming his wand at the doors leading inside, he cast a quick alohamora and strode inside, calling for the Medi-Witch. "Poppy! I need your assistance."

Madame Pomfrey was already rushing out of her quarters, having been alerted by the alarms she had placed on those very doors. "Severus," she cried breathlessly, looking at the bundle in his arms. "What-?"

Snape shook his head and laid the heap gently on the nearest bed. "Albus sent me to look in on Potter this evening as he hasn't written to Lupin in several days. This is what I found."

Poppy looked down at the form that was indeed Harry Potter, although completely emaciated and covered in fresh and dried blood, and blanched. Coming to herself, she ran to fetch her supplies and began working on the poor child before her. "You couldn't have thought to stop the bleeding?" She hissed at Snape as he handed her yet another Blood Replenishing potion.

The Potions Master had at least the decency to look abashed at her comment before replying, "Everything happened so quickly. I had to get him out of there."

Poppy nodded, still not pleased, but she understood. The boy's safety was paramount. "You came here first thing, then? The headmaster doesn't know?"

"Of course. There will be time to tell him later. Better to inform him after the brat is healing than to tell him we couldn't save his precious Golden Boy," Snape snapped irritably.

"I don't appreciate your tone, Severus," she replied sternly. "It isn't Harry's fault that his father treated you that way when you were in school. Don't blame him for something he had no control over."

No, it wasn't the brat's fault; Snape was well aware of this. What had him in such a foul mood was Albus' complete lack of responsibility towards the boy. Blood wards be damned, they could have prevented this from happening. And now, all he wanted was to wring the man's neck and retreat to the dungeons where he could put this all from his mind. "I'm going to kill Albus," he muttered under his breath and set to work next to the Medi-Witch.

Hours passed as they worked silently on the form on the bed and finally, just as the sun began to peak over the horizon, they both stepped back and released a pent up breath. They had done all they could; it was now up to the boy to finish the healing process.