Chapter Text
August 1992
The two Professors lie on a bed hastily transfigured from the small sofa. Upstairs in the only bedroom of the small cottage the boy is (hopefully) sleeping. Staring up at the ceiling their hands find each other and grasp on tightly, interlacing their fingers together. Neither one speaks, but their thoughts are the same:
What have we done?
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry Potter is not having a good summer holiday. Unsurprisingly. At the end of term he had been given a choice; go back to Privet Drive, or stay at Hogwarts. It should have been an easy choice.
He presses his back into the corner of the room and draws his knees up to his chest. He should have been at Hogwarts, he would have been. Two of his Professors had offered to look after him there for the summer. But then he had learned something, something he almost wished he didn’t know.
It was Snape. Snape had all but pointed Voldemort’s wand at his parents. At him. Harry should hate him. He did. He wanted to. But it was all so confused, it wasn’t simple. Snape had tried to explain that he hadn’t known what information he was passing on – what it would lead to. Harry hadn’t wanted to even listen, he was far too angry. But the guilt and sadness that was written into the normally stoic man’s features... Harry didn’t think he had ever seen anyone in that much pain. That was the image that kept floating back into Harry’s mind as he sat hungry and alone in Dudley’s old second bedroom.
He buries his head in his arms, but he can’t stop thinking about all the good things the Professors had done for him. Blishwick was weird looking, and scowled a lot, and could be almost as scary as Snape sometimes. But the two of them had helped him more than anyone else in his whole life. Snape had noticed when he was injured. Blishwick got his eyes tested. And even though at first Harry had been mortified when they had figured out what was going on with the Dursleys, it had worked out ok – or it was supposed to. Because they had said he didn’t have to come back here.
And yet here he was.
He is startled from his gloom by a tapping on the window. Hedwig is still locked in her cage, but perhaps it’s an owl from Ron or Hermione? He leaps up, feeling hopeful for the first time in days. But it is not an owl. There on the outside sill perches a raven, or maybe a crow. He’s not sure what the difference is. It taps it’s beak again on the glass, looking, well, sort of expectant. Maybe not all wizards use owls he thinks as he slowly goes over to open the window. After a brief hesitation he lifts the latch and pushes it open as far as it will go, with the bars in the way.
The Raven / Crow hops inside and flutters down to the floor. It tilts it’s head, staring at Harry with it’s beady black eyes. Then Harry spots the note. Around it’s left leg there is a small piece of paper, just like the carrier pigeons he was taught about in school. He slowly kneels down and reaches out his hands to retrieve the note, keeping a close eye on the bird’s sharp black beak. It makes no objections and seems to wait patiently as Harry carefully unravels the paper and reads.
Don’t be alarmed. Prof. Blishwick.
Harry looks up at the window, expecting maybe something else to appear, and then back at the bird. It takes a couple of steps into the centre of the room and then suddenly begins to grow. Harry backs up, feeling quite alarmed indeed actually. Within seconds the feather are gone, and the bird has grown to the size and shape of a human. The figure slowly raises their hands and pulls back the hood of their black cloak. Harry breathes a sigh of relief at the sight of the tattooed witch, Professor Blishwick.
She immediately scans the room with a scowl, before her gaze rests upon Harry. He starts to feel nervous again, even though he doesn’t think she’s here to hurt him. She just doesn’t really have a comforting vibe. Not like Mrs Weasley.
‘How are you?’ She asks. It is not a polite or friendly greeting, but an actual inquiry.
‘Um, well, ok.’ Harry responds. That’s not entirely true, but he is still quite startled, and doesn’t know what else to say. She seems to realise and a small smile ghosts across her face. At least it serves to soften her frown somewhat.
‘Sorry, I did try to warn you. I’m an animagus. I can transform into a Crow. Probably should have told you before, but it’s supposed to be a secret.’ She smiles slightly again, then holds up her wand. ‘Just a diagnostic spell ok?’ She says. Harry nods and she waves her wand over him. She frowns but seems satisfied that there are no major injuries.
‘What’s with the cat flap?’ She asks, still looking at Harry. He feels his face grow hot. ‘The Dursleys don’t really seem like… cat people.’ She sneers.
‘Um… well…’ Harry gulps. ‘That’s for food.’ He says quietly, hanging his head.
~~
Petra glares down at the small boy, sitting on the edge of the bed. His head hangs down in shame, but it is not him who should be feeling ashamed. She wants to rip that door off it’s hinges, march into Petunia and Vernon’s bedroom, and strangle them in their sleep. This room – Harry’s room – is not a child’s bedroom; it is a prison cell. Bars on the window, a hatch for food (which looking at his gaunt features doesn’t come often enough), and she can picture locks on the outside. Almost not wanting to confirm the hypothesis she steps over to the door, quietly turns the handle and gives a gentle tug. Locked.
She stands still, breathing slowly and deeply for a minute whilst she calms herself.
‘Did you know?’ Harry’s small voice interrupts her thoughts. ‘About Snape?’ He says in a more confident, almost accusatory tone, though she notes he keeps it barely above a whisper. She sits on the battered chair by the desk.
‘Yes. But it was not my story to tell.’ She says plainly, careful to match her volume to his. ‘I do, however have my own story. If you would like to hear it.’ Harry’s not sure he wants any more revelations, but something about the way she said it puts him at ease. And it’s not like things could get a lot worse at this point, so he nods.
‘It’s a story about a boy not much older than you who made some bad choices.’ She begins. ‘He was a friend of mine, but he was seduced down a very dark path. We were on opposite sides in a war, but we never encountered each other, until one night he came to find me. His master was targeting someone he cared about and he had decided to defect. I arranged a meeting with Dumbledore and after that he became a spy for our side. He risked his life every day for over a year to bring us information, and to try to protect the woman – the family – that his master was targeting.’ She pauses.
‘Severus did some terrible things in that war. But he was a tool. He did not know the meaning of message he gave to Voldemort, and he did everything in his power to correct his mistake. He has carried that guilt with him every day. I am not saying that you should forgive him, but you can trust him. He told you the truth, even though he knew it might hurt himself to do so. What he did not want was for it to hurt you to do so.’ She sits back and glances again around the room. They are both quiet for a while and Petra allows Harry a little time to process what she has said, before getting to her own questions.
‘Now. What has been happening here?’ She asks after a few minutes. ‘Why are there bars on your window and locks on your door?’ Harry fidgets uncomfortably but says nothing. ‘Let me clarify.’ She sighs deeply. ‘There is never any reasonable excuse to imprison a child in their room. When did they put bars on your window?’
‘Um, last week.’ Harry mumbles.
‘And the locks, the… hatch?’
‘Same.’ Harry is pulling on his sleeves now.
‘Was there a particular event that precipitated this unforgivable action?’ Petra asks carefully. Harry looks a little confused, but seems to understand the question well enough.
‘Well it was Dobby.’ He says. Petra frowns.
‘A house elf. He turned up and was going on about me not going back to school, and then he was hitting himself and making such a huge racket.’ His words are tumbling out now, though he keeps to a whisper. ‘And Vernon came up and told me to be quiet because they had guests you see, and I tried to tell Dobby why he had to be quiet, but that just gave him ideas, and then he went and dropped aunt Petunia’s trifle on the floor, and of course they thought I’d done it, and then there was the letter from the ministry, and Vernon took my wand and my trunk and locked me in. He said I would never be going back...’ Harry’s monologue stops abruptly as his throat closes shut at the thought, and silence falls again.
Petra scowls. A house elf, come here to cause what seems to be rather mild mischief, and not wanting Harry to go back to Hogwarts. Very peculiar.
‘I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true and I really didn’t want him to…’ Harry is saying, but Petra holds up a hand.
‘And before that?’ She almost dreads to ask.
‘Oh well. It wasn’t too bad I guess.’ Harry mumbles. She knows what that means.
‘Go on.’
‘Um, well it really was ok at first. They gave me a room…’ Harry stops suddenly, almost gasping audibly.
‘I know about the cupboard Harry.’ She says darkly. Harry remembers the conversation they all had in Snape’s office a few months ago. Professor Blishwick seemed like she had already guessed that it used to be where Harry slept. How, he didn’t know.
‘Oh, um, right.’ He mumbles.
‘It was ok at first…?’ Blishwick prompts after a pause. She knows this much, as she had paid a visit – in crow form – to check on him only a couple of weeks ago. How quickly things had deteriorated after that was what she needed to determine.
‘Er, yeah so I um had my own room, and it was ok as long as I did all my chores and kept quiet.’ Now that he has started talking his mouth start to run away with him again. ‘I don’t mind the chores too much, I really don’t. Cooking is alright as long as I don’t burn anything, and washing up can be kind of relaxing sometimes you know, well it’s better than weeding. I mean gardening can be ok, but not when it’s hot because then I get sort of sick and dizzy from the heat, and so I had to come in for water, but my shoes were muddy and…’ He stops again. His teacher’s face is looking angry, but when she speaks her voice is calm.
‘Harry you were given a choice at the end of term. I understand why you chose to come back here, and so does Professor Snape. But you can still change you mind. Our offer is still open.’ She pauses.
‘Do you want to stay here?’
Harry shakes his head vigorously, blinking back tears, as a spark of hope ignites in his chest. Because despite how he felt at the end of term, and despite still feeling unsure about Snape, he would rather be almost anywhere than here right now. It hadn’t been too bad at first, that was true. It was like Vernon and Petunia were almost trying. Begrudgingly, but trying. But he hadn’t been able to do all his chores, and he hadn’t been able to keep enough out of their way. And it didn’t matter with Dudley anyway, because Dudley didn’t need an excuse to shove him and chase him. Gradually things had gone back to how they always were, and when no wizard turned up to hex the Dursleys, they became bolder. Dobby was exactly the final excuse they needed to do what they’d probably wanted to do all along.
‘Do you understand that if you leave here tonight you may never return?’
Harry nods.
He watches as Professor Blishwick sends a light from the tip of her wand. It forms into the shape of a crow and she whispers to it;
‘Come to Privet Drive. Now.’ And with a flick of her wand it flies off out of the window. She turns to Harry. ‘Where is your trunk?’He looks down.
‘Cupboard under the stairs.’ He mumbles.
‘We’ll get it on the way out.’ The Professor remarks absently, scanning the room again. She summons Harry’s satchel and waves her wand over it. ‘Pack anything you want in here.’ She tells him, then turns to Hedwig’s cage. Harry flinches as she points her wand at it, but the padlock Vernon put on it pops open and she opens the cage.
‘Go to Hogwarts. Harry will meet you there.’ She tells the owl. His breath catches in his throat. So they were going back to Hogwarts! He grins to himself and starts shoving things into his bag. There’s not much to take, but he’s still surprised to find that the bulky clothing fits in easily without the bag appearing to even bulge at all.
Hedwig steps onto Petra’s arm and she carries her to the window. The owl manages to squeeze through the bars and then flies off into the night. Blishwick waves her wand again at the cage and it shrinks down. She pops it in a pocket and turns to Harry.
‘Got everything?’
He nods.
Just then there is an almighty crash from downstairs. Petra smirks slightly and waves her wand at the bedroom door. The locks on the outside click open and the door swings inwards just as a dark robed figure appears at the top of the stairs. At the same time Uncle Vernon comes storming out of his bedroom, his fierce expression clear even in the darkened hallway. He freezes as he spots the black clothed wizard on his upstairs landing, his mouth pumping noiselessly.
Snape spares a brief but thunderous glance at the huffing man before his gaze glances over the locks and cat flap in Harry’s door. He strides right into the room, taking in every detail with his piercing eyes. His lips twitch as he notes the bars on the windows before his gaze finally rests on Harry. His eyes sweep up and down the boy’s form.
‘Have they hurt you?’ He demands.
‘Um…’ Harry’s not sure what to say, because yes, they have, although nothing permanent. No broken bones this time.
‘How long have they had you locked in… here.’ He grinds out.
‘Um, only a week.’ Harry mumbles.
‘Now look here!’ Vernon suddenly shouts from the doorway, apparently having recovered himself. ‘You’ve got no right to break in here and start accusing us… Petunia call the police…’
‘Oh yes, do call your muggle law enforcement.’ Snape smoothly drawls whipping round to face the man in the doorway. ‘Perhaps you can explain to them why you have a young boy locked in what is little more than a prison cell?’ He advances slowly towards Vernon, who reluctantly backs up into the hall.
‘I assume that is for food?’ Snape asks pointing to the cat flap. ‘Not that I expect it was utilised more than once a day. Tell me, what is the minimum sentence for child abuse and neglect?’
‘The boy is a delinquent! He needs disciplining.’ Vernon roars defensively, making Snape’s face curl into a vicious looking snarl.
‘He’s coming with us.’ Petra jumps in, beckoning Harry out into the now quite crowded hallway. Snape turns and looks at Harry.
‘You agree?’ He asks simply. Harry nods.
‘Good riddance!’ Petunia practically squeals from further down the hall, and then, ‘Dudley get back in your room.’ In a more frightened voice as an older – and much better fed – child emerges from a room rubbing his eyes.
‘We don’t want anything more to do with your kind.’ Vernon growls. ‘Take him and never come back.’
‘Our kind?’ Snape hisses, advancing on Vernon again until he is backed into the wall. Snape reaches up and wraps his fingers around the front of Venon’s striped pyjama shirt. ‘Oh, you are very fortunate that Harry is not one of MY kind. Do you know what kind of man I am Mr Dursely?’ His voice is smooth and deep, and his eyes shine venomously.
‘Stop it!’ Squeals Petunia. But Snape doesn’t even look at her.
‘I know how to inflict the kind of pain that you could not imagine even in your worst nightmares…’ He growls softly, his hooked nose almost touching Vernon’s stubby one.
‘Let go of him!’ Petunia half screams, the voice strangled in her throat. ‘That boy has been nothing but trouble and yet we’ve fed him, we’ve clothed…’
‘Shut the fuck up.’ Petra snaps at the woman, rounding Harry to put her body in between him and the vicious woman. She slings an arm around the boy’s shoulder defensively and squeezes as she feels him tense.
‘It’s time to go.’ She says as Vernon’s face is turning from white to green. ‘The wards are failing.’
Severus lets go of the man’s shirt and turns to where Petra is guiding Harry towards the stairs. Then he pauses a moment, and in one swift move twists, bringing a sharp fist into Vernon’s face, sending a spray of blood from the man’s nose spattering over the pale anaglypta wallpaper. He turns back to the stairs, sneering at Petunia on his way past.
‘Shame on you Petunia.’ He growls and descends to the entrance hall.
In the hallway Petra is aiming her wand at the door of the cupboard, and with a small flick reduces it to splinters. She summons Harry’s trunk from within and shrinks it, popping it in her pocket with Hedwig’s cage. Harry stares at the splintered remains of the door that had kept him both trapped, but also sometimes safe, for the first ten years of his life.
Then he looks up to see the angry face of the former Death Eater joining them in the hall. But his anger is not directed at Harry. It is on behalf of him. It might not be wise, but in that moment Harry doesn’t care who Snape was in the past, or what’s going to happen next. Right now this vicious man is on his side. He is fighting for Harry.
‘The wards are gone.’ Blishwick says, as they step out onto the pavement.
Snape turns to Harry and crouches slightly, grasping his shoulders tightly in his strong hands.
‘I will never harm you Harry. No one will harm you now. I won’t allow it.’ He says.
Harry nods up at him, and the dark, intimidating man pulls him to his chest.
‘Hold tight.’ He instructs.
~~~~~