Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8600089.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Harry_Potter/Severus_Snape
  Character:
      Severus_Snape, Harry_Potter
  Additional Tags:
      BDSM, Slash, Alternate_Universe_-_Canon_Divergence
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-11-20 Updated: 2016-12-10 Chapters: 4/? Words: 9067
****** I'm Not Broken ******
by 10thwhovian
Summary
     In 1991, a single Hogwarts acceptance letter sat on Minerva
     McGonagall's desk with no address. Harry Potter, Location Unknown.
     Five years later, he is finally found. But he's not what the world
     had hoped for.
     Eventual SS/HP, D/s relationship.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Chapter Notes
     Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters, much
     as I wish I did.
     Warnings: This is a plot bunny that has been bouncing around in my
     head for a while. It is not a nice fic, especially at the beginning.
     Trigger warnings for rape, severe emotional distress, underage
     relationships... This will eventually be a SS/HP fic, so there will
     be slash, and there will be D/s relationships. Anyways, you've been
     warned.
Severus Snape had just sat down in front of his fireplace at Spinner's End,
looking forward to a glass of Firewhiskey and a good book. It was the middle of
July, the summer holiday was half gone, but this was the first moment he'd had
to appreciate some peace and quiet. Between Death Eater meetings, raids, Order
meetings, and brewing for both sides, his summer had been far from relaxing.
And he didn't expect the rest of the summer to be any better.
He settled into his wingback chair with a sigh, cracking open his book. But
before he'd finished the first page, a silver phoenix Patronus burst into the
room, hovering in front of him.
"Severus!" The phoenix called in Dumbledore's voice. "We need you in the
hospital wing. We've found him!"
Message delivered, the Patronus faded into mist. Severus stared, frozen in
disbelief. They'd found him? After five years of searching, they'd found him?
Realising he was still gaping at the empty air where the phoenix had been,
Severus leapt to his feet, summoning his emergency potions kit. Poppy kept the
hospital wing well stocked, but it didn't hurt to be prepared. Grabbing a
handful of Floo powder, he threw it into his fireplace, calling out, "Hogwarts,
Hospital Wing!" and stepping through.
There was a mass of people, Order members from the looks of it, milling around
the front room. He could hear Poppy barking orders and had to snap out a few
unpleasantries himself before the crowd parted to let him through. He spotted
Dumbledore standing by a bed at the back of the wing, but everything else was
obscured by a curtain.
Dumbledore glanced away from the bed as Severus approached, worry plain on his
face. "Severus, good, Poppy says there's a curse, a very dark spell. We haven't
been able to identify it…" His voice trailed off as his eyes slid back to the
bed. Severus steeled himself as he took another step forward, reaching out a
hand and pulling the curtain back.
The boy was obviously unconscious, lying still as death in the centre of the
hospital bed. His pale skin contrasted harshly with the jet black hair that
fanned across the pillow. He was covered in scrapes, bruises, and lacerations,
and Poppy was hovering over him with salves and dittany. The once white sheets
were stained with blood, too much blood. But his eyes were quickly drawn to the
ugly blackened wound on the boy's chest, just below his right collarbone. He
could feel the dark magic seeping off of him, like a taint in the very air.
Severus grimaced, stepping quickly to the bedside.
"How long?" He asked, tracing his wand in a complicated pattern above the boy's
chest.
"Mundungus found him less than an hour ago, but we don't know how long ago he
was attacked," Poppy replied.
Severus gave a quick nod and continued to work, pulling the magic out of the
wound. A black tar-like substance began to seep out, rolling down his side to
pool on the sheets. Slowly, the black began to turn red, flowing more freely.
"Blood replenishers?" Severus asked, eyes never leaving his work.
"I've given him two already."
"He'll need another when I'm done, and every three hours for the next two
days." Blood had begun to poor out of the now visible laceration, but Severus
continued to draw it out until, finally, the last of the black stains were
gone. Severus lowered his wand as Poppy spelled the blood replenisher into the
boy's system. He ran a final scan, making sure he hadn't missed any traces of
the curse, and let out a small sigh when the boy's blood came back clean. He
nodded to Poppy, and she closed the now clean gash on his chest. It would leave
a scar. A quick glance down the boy's body made Severus cringe. Not his first
scar, perhaps not even his worst.
With that thought, Severus reached a hand up to brush the sweat soaked hair off
the boy's forehead. No, definitely not his first scar. Because there it was,
the unmistakable lightning bolt, the scar left by the failed killing curse.
Severus stepped away from the bed, leaving Poppy to finish her work. His mind
was rolling with questions, and he would have answers. Five years. Five years
since Minerva found Potter’s Hogwarts letter sitting on her desk, ‘location
unknown’ written clearly in green ink. Five years since Dumbledore had
questioned those idiot Muggle relatives, only to learn that they had dropped
Potter off at an orphanage the day they’d found him on their doorstep. Well,
the orphanage had since closed, the records lost and Potter’s location along
with them.
“Well?” Dumbledore’s concerned question pulled Severus from his thoughts.
Severus walked around the bed, pulling the curtain closed behind him. “The
curse is gone,” he said. “He’s lucky. He’ll be weak for at least a week,
possibly longer, but I think I was able to prevent any lasting damage. If it
had progressed much further, the damage would have been much greater.”
“Good, good. Thank you, my boy.”
“What happened, Albus?” Severus asked. After years of searching, he needed to
know. “Where was he found? Who cursed him? Where has he been all these years?”
Dumbledore sighed. “Can your questions wait a few minutes, Severus? I’m afraid
I don’t have many answers, myself, and I’d rather not have to repeat what
little I do know. I’ll be calling an Order meeting as soon as Poppy is
finished. It seems that the entire Order is here already, so you won’t have
long to wait.”
As Severus nodded his acceptance, Poppy stepped out from behind the curtain.
“He’s stable,” she said. “I’ve patched him up, taken care of all of the surface
wounds, repaired the broken bones… I gave him some dreamless sleep, so he
should stay unconscious for at least another twelve hours. But Albus, there’s
something else…” She trailed off, glancing at Severus, but Dumbledore merely
waved for her to continue.
“He’s been… raped. Repeatedly.” Even Severus couldn’t hold back his hiss of
revulsion as Poppy continued. “I was able to heal the physical damage but…” Her
voice cracked, tears welling in her eyes.
Dumbledore reached a hand out to grip Poppy’s shoulder. “There, there dear.
He’ll be all right. We’ll be here for him.” He handed her a handkerchief and
she dabbed at her red-rimmed eyes. “Why don’t we keep this between us for now,
hm? I’m sure Harry wouldn’t want the whole Order knowing everything he’s been
through.”
Poppy nodded her assent while Severus shoved down the bile that was threatening
to climb up his throat. Raped. Hadn’t the boy been through enough? He had hated
the elder Potter, but the younger Potter, Harry, Lily’s son; he didn’t deserve
this. No one deserved this.
Severus took a deep breath, forcing his thoughts to calm. “Albus, I think you
should call that meeting now, before you have the whole Order swarming the
boy’s hospital bed.” A glance toward the waiting members showed a sea of
restless, worried faces.
Albus followed his gaze with another sigh. “Poppy, could you remain here and
keep an eye on Harry? I’ll clear everyone else from the room for a while. When
do you think he would be awake for a visitor or two? Perhaps his godfather? Or
one of the Weasley’s if you think he would respond better to someone his own
age?”
“Give the boy a few days, Albus. I’ll be able to tell you more when he wakes
up. Tell them they will have to wait until this weekend at the earliest. That’s
only three days away; I imagine they can give the poor child that long to
heal.”
“Of course, Poppy. We’ll see how he feels when he wakes up.” With that, Albus
turned and walked through the crowd to the hospital wing doors, beckoning the
others to follow. Severus waited until the last person, the mutt of course, had
left the room before following. They made the journey to the headmaster’s
office in silence, taking their seats without any of the usual prattle.
“I'm sure you all have questions,” the headmaster said once they were all
seated. “I'm not sure how many of those questions I will be able to answer, but
I’ll do my best. First, the facts. Mundungus, care to tell your part?“
“Not much ter tell. I were dahn Knockturn, heard sumfink dahn one of the side
allies. Went ter investigate, make sure no one were 'urt yer know.”
“More like turn out their pockets I'd wager,” Severus muttered, receiving a
glare from the thief.
“As I were sayin', I went ter see if evry’one were awright, right, and I found
'im. Didn't know 'oo 'e were o'course, but 'e were 'urt bad, and then I seen
his scar, and I 'ad this real sick feelin'. So I brought 'im ter Poppy, and she
called yer, and 'ere we are.”
“Where exactly in Knockturn was he found?” Severus asked.
“Club district, dahn by Dragon’s Breaff.”
“Then whoever attacked him wanted him to be found,” Severus said, “though I
doubt they expected him to be found alive. That district has a lot of traffic
later in the night, but the curse they left him with would have killed him long
before most of those clubs opened.”
“A message, perhaps?” Asked Dumbledore.
“Perhaps, but for whom? We have to consider that this attack has more to do
with where the boy has been for the past fourteen years, and less to do with
him being Harry Potter.”
“Honestly, does it matter?” Molly Weasley’s exasperated voice broke in. “The
poor dear has been beaten to within an inch of his life, and who knows what
else he’s been through. What’s important is that he’s back with us now, that we
can help him heal, show him how loved he is.”
Severus fought the urge to roll his eyes. Most people would need a mind healer
and years of therapy, but surely the great Harry Potter would be fine with the
power of  love …
“This conversation is pointless,” he growled. “We just don’t have enough
information. I say we wait for the boy to wake up, heal. See what kind of
mental state he’s in.”
“There’s plenty we can do before he wakes up!” Tonks exclaimed. “We can take a
group of Aurors down, show his picture around, see if we can find witnesses,
someone that knew him-”
“Oh, of course, why didn’t I think of that,” Severus snapped dryly. “Simply
task an Auror force to investigate an unreported crime, and in the process
alert the Dark Lord that Potter has been found. And give him a way to recognise
the boy while we’re at it.” Tonks blushed, seeming to sink into her chair. “I
have brewing that needs completed. If there’s nothing else…”
“No, of course, Severus,” Dumbledore replied as Severus got to his feet. “I’ll
alert you if we have anything new.”
Severus gave the headmaster a curt nod and he left the room. He headed down the
stairs, intending to Floo back to Spinner’s End from his quarters. But instead,
he found himself walking back into the hospital wing, staring down at that
mystery of a boy.
“Severus? What are you doing back here?”
As he turned to address Poppy, a glint of silver on the bedside table caught
his eye. He paused, reaching out a hand to pick up the band of black silk with
the round silver pendant. The name Kaleb was engraved in the metal, but it was
otherwise a very plain piece. Such a small thing, yet the implications…
“Was this found on the boy?” He asked Poppy, his thumb tracing the soft slip of
silk.
“Well, yes, it was in his hand. Why?”
“It’s nothing, just curious,” he replied. “I’ll leave you to your patient.”
Severus headed to the hospital Floo, sliding the collar into his robe pocket.
Perhaps there were questioned that could be answered before the boy awoke. But
Severus was no longer sure he wanted those answers.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
     Disclaimer: The idea may be mine, but the characters are not.
Severus stepped out of his fireplace and headed straight for his bedroom. He
quickly changed into a set of Muggle attire; black jeans, long-sleeved black
shirt with a silver design on the left side, black leather belt and boots. He
tied his hair back, checked that his wand was properly hidden in his wrist
holster, transferred the silk collar from his robes pocket to his jeans, and
apparated to an alley in Muggle London.
He slipped onto the street unnoticed, walking for several blocks before
stopping in front of a small storefront. The sign in the window read “Atra
Rosa”, the black rose, blood red letters painted across the image of its
namesake. Severus stepped through the door and paused to take in the smell of
leather and rubber. He hadn't realised how much he would miss that scent…
He took a moment to look around the shop, but not much had changed. Racks of
corsets, leathers, outfits and bodysuits were scattered across the floor.
Heels, boots, and other footwear were displayed on the walls toward the front
of the shop. Floggers, canes, and paddles were on the wall toward the back.
There was a section for cuffs, ropes, and other restraints, a display of
collars and leashes, and a glass case with plugs, rings, and other toys. There
was a small section of books and videos, and an album by the counter with
pictures of various pieces of furniture that could be ordered and installed.
The middle-aged man sitting behind the counter had looked up when Severus had
entered, and was now eyeing him uncertainly. As Severus attempted to meet his
eyes, the man - Jefferson, his memory supplied - immediately dropped his gaze.
Interesting. “I'm looking for Damian.”
“Back room, sir,” came the gruff response. Severus stared at Jefferson for a
long moment; he didn't remember the man being so easily intimidated. But it was
of no consequence, so with a quick nod, he turned and walked through the
curtained entrance, feeling the muggle repulsion and notice-me-not charms wash
over him.
The back room looked much like the front, except with the addition of a line of
potions, and the fact that most of the items on display were charmed in some
way. It was also, thankfully, just as vacant. He spotted Damian easily; his
neon blue hair was hard to miss. As he approached, Damian looked up from his
paperwork, and quickly jumped to his feet. Severus froze. His instinct was to
scan the room for the obvious threat, but Severus quickly realized that to
Damian,  he  was the threat… He just couldn’t imagine why. Severus slowly
raised his hands in a show of placation as he spoke.
“Damian, I just want to talk.”
“I don’t want any trouble,” Damian replied quickly, eyes darting to the door.
Severus sighed, crossing his arms. “Merlin, Damian, what is your problem? I
just need some information. What kind of trouble are you expecting?”
Damian seemed to take in the confused and mildly annoyed look on Severus’ face,
and seemed to relax slightly. “I haven’t seen you in three years, Severus. Not
since…”
“Not since before the Dark Lord returned, I know. I thought my reasons would be
clear enough.”
“Yeah, pretty clear. Can’t be caught sleeping with the Muggles when you’re
playing lapdog to a blood purist,” Damian practically growled. “You dropped
Nate with his sister, no explanation… The boy was a wreck for a month trying to
figure out what he’d done wrong.”
The accusatory tone made Severus cringe. “Better for the boy to be disappointed
than dead, Damian.”
Damian stared at him as if debating about the truth of Severus’ words. Then he
nodded slowly and sat back down. “Ok, alright. I never wanted to believe the
worst of you, but I've heard… things… And in this day and age, you just never
know who to trust.” Damian conjured a chair and motioned for Severus to sit.
“You said you needed information. What do you need to know?”
Severus pulled the collar from his pocket as he sat down, laying it in front of
Damian. He watched as Damian tensed again, back going rigid, eyes wide and
guarded. He stared at Severus for a long moment, then sighed and reached a hand
out to the black silk. “You found him, then?” he finally asked. Severus merely
nodded in response, waiting for the man to continue. “He was a good kid,”
Damian continued, staring at the collar in his hand.
“Is,” Severus interjected.
“What?”
“He  is  a good kid. He’s alive.”
Damian’s head snapped up. “Alive? You have him? Is he safe?”
“Yes, Damian,” Severus replied, trying to keep the annoyance from his voice.
“Why exactly would I need answers about a corpse?”
“Right, sorry, ok, Merlin, I thought for sure the kid was dead.” Damian took
another look at the collar, then continued. “His name is Kaleb, as I’m sure you
could tell from his collar. He was one of Mac’s boys. He’s been with Mac for
just over a year I think. Muggle, eighteen years old or so, no family that I’ve
heard tell of. Mac found him in a Muggle dungeon, never said which one, but the
boy was unattached and living rough. He seemed pretty accepting of magic.
Unlike you, Mac preferred his subs to know about our world, Statute of Secrecy
be damned. Though after what happened, Kaleb will probably want to disappear
into the Muggle world and never hear the word ‘magic’ again.”
“What happened?” Severus prompted.
“It was just over a week ago. Mac had taken Kaleb out to one of the clubs on
our side. Nothing unusual. He frequented clubs in both the Muggle and magical
worlds. But that night… A group of  his  followers showed up. I'm not sure if
they were looking for Mac, or if it was just bad luck. Anyways, from what I
hear, words were exchanged, a fight broke out, and it all went sideways. Even
four against one, Mac should have been fine. But a stray spell hit Kaleb, and
then Mac went down. Dead. Then one of the… One of  them  grabbed Kaleb and they
were all gone.”
Severus took some time to digest everything Damian had said. Most of what he
knew about Potter, Kaleb, was wrong. The boy was obviously a wizard, not a
Muggle, and he wouldn't even turn sixteen until the end of the month. But the
rest seemed pretty straight forward. Obviously the Death Eaters that had taken
Potter didn't know who he was, else they would have taken him straight to the
Dark Lord.
“What can you tell me about Mac?” he asked. “Why would the Dark Lord be
interested in him?” And why would four against one be even odds for the man,
Severus wondered.
“Ah, Mac, short for MacDonigan. Douglas MacDonigan.”
“The dueler?”
“One and the same. He was a good man. Powerful, but quiet. Liked to keep to
himself. He stayed neutral in the first war, thought he could do the same this
time around.”
“What kind of a Dom was Mac? What kind of relationship did he have with Kaleb?
You said they were together for over a year?”
“You know I don't usually share personal information, Severus,” Damian said
slowly. “But if you think it will help Kaleb…”
“It will,” Severus replied quickly, and Damian nodded.
“Alright. Mac was a good Dom. Reminded me a bit of you to be honest. He
preferred Muggles, but didn't mind the occasional wizard. Always liked them
younger than my tastes, nothing illegal mind you, but I don't think I saw him
with anyone over twenty-five. He liked his subs with a bit of a backbone, and
he didn't share. Kaleb obviously had a rough start to life, though I never knew
any of the details. He was the perfect submissive for Mac, the trust and
respect he had for the man was clear to see. But if he didn’t know you…
“There was this incident in my shop a few months back. Mac had left Kaleb to
look around the Muggle side while he was finishing up an order back here.
Another Muggle came in and approached Kaleb, was getting a little too forceful
with his attentions. Jefferson had called for me to come handle it, but by the
time Mac and I made it to the front of the shop, Kaleb had a knife on the man’s
thigh and a frankly terrifying grin on his face.” Damian chuckled at the memory
before continuing.
“But one word from Mac and the knife had vanished and Kaleb was kneeling like
nothing had happened. They worked well together. They were lifestyle, they both
preferred it that way. I think Mac had taken a real liking to Kaleb. This past
year was the longest I'd seen him with the same sub. Merlin, the boy is going
to be crushed.”
They sat in silence for a time, Severus trying to put together some of the
puzzle pieces of the boys past. Damian seemed to think highly of Mac, so it was
entirely possible that Mac had believed the same lies about Potter that Damian
had repeated to him. Despite being collared at such a young age, the boy still
seemed to have a backbone. He couldn't imagine how Potter had found himself in
this lifestyle, another question that would have to wait until the boy was
awake, but at least he hadn’t been broken by it. And though his relationship
with the Dom had been inappropriate, it seemed to have been consensual, unlike
what Severus had feared.
“You’ll take care of him, won't you?” Damian asked quietly. “I mean, I know
you're out of the lifestyle, I think I even understand why, but Kaleb has no
one. I’d take him in but, well, I'm walking a fine line here. I've been staying
mostly under the radar, but taking in a sub who’s supposed to be dead…”
“I'll do what I can,” Severus reassured the man. Though he wouldn't need to do
much. Potter would have the rest of the Order fawning over him. He would be
fine. Severus would convince Dumbledore to bring in a mind healer, help the boy
through the trauma of the attack. He would have the support of the Order, and
that mutt of a godfather. He would probably become friends with the Weasley
boy, especially with Molly mothering him. Yes, he would be fine.
With that thought, Severus stood and thanked Damian for his help. He’d learned
what he needed to know, and Damian knew he wasn’t fond of idle chatter. Damian
handed him back the collar, “In case Kaleb wants it,” and Severus apparated
back to Spinner’s End.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
     There may be some things that will look like bashing in this chapter,
     and in the future. I don’t really do character bashing, but I
     strongly believe in grey characters, and human characters. So before
     someone freaks out, I just wanted to clarify that this is not an
     evil!Dumbledore fic or anything like that. Ok? Good.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The next ten days passed fairly quietly for Severus. He had been summoned by
the Dark Lord only once, to give an update on the Order’s movements and
exchange his completed potions with a new list to brew. He had a meeting with
Dumbledore that afternoon for the same purpose. It was occasionally
disheartening how similar his roles were for both sides of the war…
He had done his best to push thoughts of the Potter boy to the back of his
mind. But though his meeting with Damian had provided a few insights, it had
brought as many questions. And while he tried to convince himself that the
child's life was not his concern, that the boy had other people who were much
better equipped to  care for him, he still couldn't help wondering about the
boy’s condition. Had Albus found a decent mind healer? How much did the boy
know about magic? And, of course, where had he been for so many years?
As the time for his meeting at Hogwarts approached, Severus found himself
pacing in front of his Floo. Finally, with a growl of frustration, he grabbed a
handful of Floo powder, tossed it into the fire, and barked out “Hogwarts,
Hospital Wing”. And nothing happened. It appeared the Floo was blocked from
visitors, which made very little sense to Severus. Now even more determined to
check on the boy, he grabbed another handful of Floo powder and Flooed to his
quarters in the dungeon.
He made the long trek to the Hospital Wing, only to find the door locked and
warded. He considered just heading to the Headmaster’s office, but his
annoyance and curiosity won out, and he slowly began dismantling the wards. And
as the door finally slid open, the need for secrecy became clear.
Potter was lying in the middle of the only hospital bed left in the room. He
was asleep, but his limp limbs and open mouth told Severus that it was a
drugged sleep, not a natural one. But while a drugged sleep could be explained
away as a respite from nightmares, which the boy would surely have, it would
not explain the restraints. This wrists and ankles were cuffed to the bed, and
a wide strap lay over his midsection, fully restricting his movement.
Severus turned on his heel and stormed to the Headmaster’s office. He snapped
the password, took the stairs two at a time, and threw open the door.
Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, staring at the fuming potion’s master
in confusion.
“What in Salazar’s name have you done to the boy?” Severus spat before
Dumbledore could so much as open his mouth.
A look of understanding dawned on Dumbledore’s face, followed by guilt and at
least a little shame. “So you stopped to see Harry on your way here, I see.
That Wing was warded for a reason, Severus.”
“Not warded well enough, obviously. I’m still waiting for answers Albus.”
Severus replied with a pointed glare.
“Please sit down, my boy. There are things that you don’t understand-”
“I’m not going to sit down. And before you ask, I don’t want tea, and I don’t
want a blasted lemon drop. What I want it to know why a traumatised fifteen
year old boy is drugged and strapped to a bed in your Hospital Wing!”
“Enough!” Dumbledore stood abruptly and brought his hand down on his desk, the
crack of his palm against the wood punctuating his shout. “I have had a
difficult day as it is, and I will not allow you to judge my actions without
knowing what led to them. Now sit down, rein in that temper of yours, and allow
me to explain!”
Severus sat down. Dumbledore slowly settled himself into his own seat, his
right hand reaching up to massage his temple. The room was silent for a long
moment while Severus waited, impatiently, for Dumbledore to collect his
thoughts.
“Harry woke up Thursday morning, as was expected. But, he didn’t appear to
truly be awake. His eyes were open. If you set food in front of him, he would
eat, he would use the facilities when he was led to them, but otherwise, it was
like the boy was sleepwalking. He didn’t speak, he didn’t respond when spoken
to, he didn’t even flinch when Poppy was running diagnostic scans. For three
days, he ate and slept and not much else. Poppy said that there wasn’t anything
wrong with him physically, so on Sunday, we allowed a few Order members to
visit. Molly, Sirius, the youngest Mr Weasley, hoping that one of them would
incite some sort of reaction. Sirius brought him pictures of his family, we all
told him about the wizarding world, Ronald even brought him some Quidditch
magazines, but still the boy sat there, completely blank.”
“And what exactly did you expect? For the boy to wake up, embrace you with open
arms, and tell you his life story?” Severus scoffed. “What did the mind healer
say?”
Dumbledore cringed. “We couldn't call for a mind healer, Severus. What would we
tell them? They would have to inform the ministry that Harry had been found,
and Voldemort has too many people there. He would know before the day was out.”
Severus stared at the headmaster in shock. “You can't keep him hidden from the
Dark Lord forever. The boy needs help. He needs someone to talk to.”
“He has all of us…”
“Someone qualified,” Severus snapped. “Someone who understands what he’s been
through. I doubt Mr Weasley fits that description.
“And this still doesn't explain,” Severus continued, “how the boy ended up
chained to a bed.” It was taking every ounce of his control not to hex the old
fool into next week.
“That was my fault,” Dumbledore said, guilt written clearly across his face.
“He was so closed down. And I didn't expect a boy with no magical training to
know Occlumency…”
“You use Legilimency on the boy!? What. Were. You. THINKING??”
“I was thinking that we needed answers he wasn't willing to give us. I was
thinking that I couldn't help him without knowing what was going on inside his
head. I was thinking that an untrained fifteen year old boy wouldn't notice if
I brushed against his mind. I didn't know what else to do!”
Severus took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his
nose. “So let me see if I have this correct,” he said as calmly as he could
manage. “You took a boy who had just been through a horrible ordeal, denied him
the help of a skilled mind healer, bombarded him with strangers and new
information that he was not ready to deal with, then invaded his mind because
you couldn't figure out what was wrong with him?”
Dumbledore slumped farther into his chair with a sigh. “That is a very harsh
way to word it, my boy.”
“And it still doesn't explain why Potter is restrained,” Severus said.
“As I said, Harry knows Occlumency. He is actually a fairly powerful Occlumens,
though he doesn’t have any finesse. When he felt me touch his mind, he lashed
out. Rather quickly, and very violently. He forced me out of his mind, stole
Poppy’s wand, and proceeded to destroy the hospital wing. I was forced to stun
him.” Dumbledore grimaced. “Now, every time he wakes, he starts screaming
profanities and lashing out in any way he can. We had to restrain him, for his
safety as well as our own.”
Severus nodded slowly, taking some time to think before asking his next
questions. Albus had failed the boy. The Order had no idea how to handle him.
And it was entirely possible that he would fail just as spectacularly. But
perhaps… “When did all of this happen, what is Poppy drugging him with and when
was his last dose?”
“Yesterday morning, one of the sedatives, but you would have to ask Poppy which
and when,” Dumbledore said slowly.
Severus rose and gave a curt nod. He pulled a piece of parchment from his
pocket and placed it on Dumbledore’s desk. “These are the potions ingredients
that will need to be restocked. I will leave the potions you requested with
Poppy, and talk to her about what else she needs me to brew. There is nothing
to report from the Dark Lord. Now if you’ll excuse me, I'm going to see if I
can clean up your mess.”
The original purpose of this meeting concluded, Severus swept out of the
headmaster’s office without waiting for a reply. He strode back to the hospital
wing, stopping outside the doors to calm his anger, and admittedly, calm his
nerves. This could work, but it could also go very wrong. But he couldn’t sit
back and do nothing. With that thought, Severus pushed open the doors and
knocked on Poppy’s office. It didn’t take long to get the boy’s records. He
easily found the counter to the sedative Potter had been given, as well as
grabbing healing salve. It took only slightly longer to convince Poppy to leave
him alone with the boy. And it took no time at all to replace the wards around
the room, adding a silencing charm and a few extra locks to the door.
Once he was sure that he wouldn’t be disturbed, Severus approached the boy’s
bed. He spelled the counter potion into Potter’s stomach, and summoned a chair
while the boy slowly woke up. And just as Dumbledore had said, the boy opened
his eyes and let loose a barrage of profanities. He struggled against the
restraints, tried to buck himself off the bed, screamed, spat, cursed until he
was red in the face. And through it all, Severus sat and watched the boy from
his chair, just out of the boy’s reach, but easily within sight. After
listening to almost fifteen minutes of the boy’s admittedly impressive
vocabulary, Severus had seen what he’d needed to. The words might be harsh, but
the eyes… The eyes held nothing but fear and desperation.
“Kaleb, enough.” Severus’ voice was soft but firm. The boy cut off mid-curse,
eyes wide, chest heaving. Severus nodded, keeping the same soft tone. “Breathe.
I won’t have you passing out because you hyperventilated.”
“You know my name,” Potter said softly, the panic slowly leaving his eyes. “How
do you know my name?”
Severus reached into his robe pocket slowly and brought out the boy’s collar.
He let it dangle between his fingers for a moment before reaching out to set it
on the bedside table. “We need to have a conversation. I would prefer to do so
without you lying flat on your back.” Severus held up the small jar of salve.
“This is for the friction burns I’m sure you’ve given yourself. I am going to
remove the restraints, and you will put the salve on. I will not tolerate your
recent behaviour, is that clear?”
The boy nodded.
“I require a verbal response, Kaleb.”
“Yes, sir. It’s clear, sir.”
Severus allowed a small smile to turn up the corners of his mouth. “Good boy.”
He considered simply vanishing the restraints, but the boy was being
surprisingly calm now, and Severus didn't want to throw him into another panic
by pulling out his wand. So instead, Severus stood and slowly walked to the
bed. He chose a wrist cuff first, releasing the catch easily. The strap across
his stomach came next, then both ankles, and finally the other wrist. As soon
as the last restraint was released, Potter sat up, pulling his knees to his
chest and rubbing his wrists. Severus walked back to his chair, watching the
boy’s eyes dart to the door.
“The salve, Kaleb,” Severus said, holding out the jar. Potter pulled his eyes
from his means of escape and hesitantly took the jar, sniffing the contents. A
look of surprise flashed across his face, there and gone almost too quick to
notice. Even Severus might have missed it if he hadn't been watching for it.
The boy started to apply the salve as Severus sat back down. “You have
questions,” Severus stated. “Ask them.”
This time, Potter didn't try to hide his surprise. “You’re going to answer my
questions?”
“Did no one offer to answer your questions before now?”
“No, sir. They mostly talked at me, or asked me a bunch of questions. They kept
calling me ‘Harry’, and they wanted to know where I’d been staying and if I
knew about magic, things like that.” The boy gave him a calculating look. “But
you’re offering to answer my questions. Why?”
Severus had to smirk. He could see the intelligence in the boy's bright green
eyes, the stubbornness in the set of his brow. It was an expression Lily had
worn often. “Because I want answers,” Severus answered honestly. “But to get
answers, there will have to be trust between us. So I will answer your
questions, and hopefully, in the future, you will be willing to answer some of
mine. Ask.”
Potter nodded, thinking as he finished rubbing the salve into his ankles, the
friction burns quickly fading. “Where did you get the salve?”
Severus fought to contain a chuckle. Such an innocently loaded question. “I
made it. But that’s not what you really want to know, is it? I helped Damian
perfect this salve several years ago, and it is sold exclusively at Atra Rosa.
Yes, I know Damian.”
The boy nodded again, handing the jar back to Severus and settling back on the
bed. “Why am I here instead of St Mungo’s?”
“Because it is safer here. The men who attacked you left you for dead. We
didn't want them to know that they had failed, or risk them trying again.”
“Mac’s dead though, isn't he… Else he would be here too.” The boy's voice
caught slightly at Mac’s name, but otherwise his voice was dry and emotionless.
“Yes, he is,” Severus replied.
“I want to go home, but I don't have a home to go to, do I?”
Severus thought about how to answer that for a long moment. “You have options.
Some come with more risks than others, and all of them will require you to
accept some unpleasant truths.”
“Unpleasant truths,” Potter repeated. “Like why everyone calls me ‘Harry’?”
“Yes.”
The boy thought for a long time. Eyes staring at his clasped hands, face
entirely unreadable, still as stone, until Severus wondered if the boy was
going to speak at all. Finally, Potter looked up, green eyes meeting black. “I
want to know.”
“Then I will tell you. You were born Harry James Potter on July 31st, 1980…”
Severus told Potter the facts, most of them at least. He told him about the
first war, he told him about his parents’ deaths, the fall of the Dark Lord,
and reluctantly, after much prodding, he told him about the prophecy. He told
him about how Dumbledore left him with his Muggle relatives, and how they, in
turn, had left him at the orphanage. He told him about the unaddressed
acceptance letter and the frantic search that followed. He told him about the
youngest Weasley’s death and the return of the Dark Lord. Many times Severus
thought he should stop, worried he would overwhelm the boy, berating himself
for doing exactly what he accused Dumbledore of not an hour earlier. But then
Potter would ask a perceptive question, and Severus would continue.
Eventually, the boy ran out of questions, and Severus ran out of facts. Severus
watched the boy as he took everything in, outwardly calm, face impassive.
“I suppose I’ll have to get used to being called Harry, won’t I?”
“Yes, I imagine you will.”
“I need some time. I need to think. But… Can you come back? Tomorrow?”
Severus nodded his consent before he realised what he’d agreed to. He sighed in
resignation, knowing that he couldn’t refuse the boy. Severus stood to leave,
then stopped himself at the foot of the boy’s bed. “I won’t be able to prevent
the others from visiting you,” he said.
“Yes, sir,” came the dejected reply.
“I know you don’t have any reason to like or trust them, or even me. But I need
you to try. Try not to shut them out. Can you do that?”
“Yes, sir,” he said with a hint of determination.
“Good. I will see you tomorrow,” Severus said as he headed for the door. “And
Kaleb? You might want to keep your collar hidden. They may not know what it is,
but if they do, I don’t think they’ll be very understanding.”
Severus watched as Kaleb nodded his assent, then turned and walked out of the
hospital wing. He dropped the wards once he was outside the door, and saw Poppy
sitting in a conjured chair just down the corridor. She bolted upright when she
saw Severus, obviously annoyed at being locked out of her domain for so long.
“What exactly was all of this about, Severus? You’ve been locked up with that
boy for almost three hours! I wasn’t sure which of you to be more worried
about. What were you thinking, warding the room so strongly? What happened with
the boy?”
Severus held up a hand to cut off her tirade. “Potter is fine. I removed his
restraints, and I do not want to see them used again. He is awake, and calm,
though I imagine tired. I will be back to check on him tomorrow.”
Poppy gaped at Severus and he could see the questions building behind her eyes.
Before she could collect her thoughts enough to start seeking answers, Severus
was gone, striding quickly toward the dungeons.
Chapter End Notes
     Ok, yes I killed Ginny. I’m sorry, don’t hate me, but it only made
     logical sense. Harry wasn’t there to save her, but as far as I can
     tell, Malfoy would have still needed to get rid of the diary, and
     framing the Weasley’s would have been a politically intelligent
     manoeuvre, so that wouldn’t have changed. I’m trying really hard to
     account for the ripple effect that Harry’s absence would have had.
     Some of it probably isn’t relevant and thus won’t be mentioned, while
     other things will be mentioned/addressed in the future. Oh, and if
     anyone noticed the timeline inconsistencies with canon last chapter
     (how long the Dark Lord has been back) this is the reason.
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Notes
     Trigger warnings apply...
It was well into the evening when Severus stumbled through the Floo into his
sitting room at Spinner’s End. He ripped the bone white mask off his face,
letting it clatter to the floor. The pitch black robes were hurriedly pulled
over his head, balled up and tossed into a corner. He’d worry about the blood
stains later.
He left a trail of black clothing on his way to the bathroom, boots kicked off,
shirt thrown over a chair, trousers and socks left in the middle of the hall.
Severus didn't care. He needed to shower, to scrub the blood from under his
nails. But no amount of scrubbing would wash away his memories, the screams
ringing over the cracks of spellfire, the acrid smell of burnt flesh and fresh
blood.
Tonight’s raid had been on a Muggle restaurant; the owner’s sister was a
Muggle-born witch who worked in the Ministry, and the Dark Lord had decided to
make an example of her. They’d hit in the middle of the dinner rush, and the
restaurant was crowded, every table full.
He apparated into the middle of the room, the crack of his apparition echoing
as other masked and robed figures appeared. There were four people sitting at
the table in front of him, a man, a woman, a boy that looked barely old enough
to be a first year, and a girl even younger. The man was looking around the
room in confusion, not yet afraid. Severus raised his wand, pointing it at the
little girl, face emotionless behind his mask. A softly spoken spell, a flash
of green, the girl collapsed and the woman jumped to her side. The boy fell
next as the woman began to scream.
Severus fell against the wall, grabbing onto the bathroom door frame. He always
killed the children first; he was one of the few who would offer them a quick
death. It was the least he could do, and the most he could do. Some of the
others liked to play with their victims…
A blonde woman bent over a table, naked breasts pressed into her half-eaten
dinner, eyes fixed on the still warm corpse of the man she’d been eating with.
A masked Death Eater, robes pulled up to his waist, grunting as he thrust into
her, hard and fast. A wand placed in the small of her back, a groaned  Crucio ,
the woman screamed and flailed and the Death Eater cried out his release. A
hand tangled in blonde hair, head pulled back, wand slashed across a pale
throat. The masked man watched her blood spill as he laughed, thrusting a few
more times before pulling out. Fluid dripped down her leg, mixing with her
blood on the floor...
Severus shook himself from the memory, flipping on the shower. He stepped under
the still cold spray, but the shiver that ran over him had little to do with
the temperature. The worst of it all was that their primary target hadn't even
been there! Over fifty people dead, for nothing!
A waitress convulsed in the middle of the room, a wordless shriek tearing
itself from her raw throat. Fingers scrabbled at the floor, nails ripped off
leaving bloody nubs behind.
“Where are they! Where are they!” Bellatrix’s voice screamed over the girl’s
cries.
Her jeans were stained; she'd lost control of her bodily functions after the
first minute under Bellatrix’s care. She flopped around like a landed fish,
eyes rolled back until only the whites showed. With one last shudder, the girl
went limp, scream cutting off and plunging the room into eerie silence.
Severus’ fist connected with the tile wall of the shower, and he felt something
snap. He leant into the wall, the cool tile a sharp contrast to the now hot
water. All of it had been for nothing, the owners had fled just days before.
Someone was paying for the bad information, and Severus couldn't help but be
glad it wasn't him. He washed slowly, trying not to watch the pink tinted water
disappear down the drain.
Severus stood under the shower until the water had turned cold again. When he
stepped out, his mask was back in place, his mind calm, his emotions collected.
He allowed himself these moments of weakness, but only moments. He couldn't
afford to let his emotions control him. No pity for the dead, no guilt for that
which was out of his control, no regret for the life he had chosen all those
years ago. That was the only way he could survive.
Severus was debating if he should attempt to sleep when a voice called from
downstairs. He dressed quickly and headed for his sitting room, wondering what
emergency he would have to deal with this time. When he walked into the room
and saw Poppy’s head sticking out of his fire, his thoughts immediately turned
to Potter. What could have possibly happened in the short time he’d been gone?
“Severus! Thank Merlin you’re home!” Poppy exclaimed when she caught sight of
potions master. “I need you to come through. It’s Harry. He’s having some sort
of nightmare, and, well, it’s hard to explain.”
A nightmare. They called him for a nightmare. “And why, exactly, are the boy’s
nightmares my concern,” he sneered. “I have better thi-”
“Please just come through,” Poppy interrupted. “You’ll understand when you see
him.” And then she cut off the connection, trusting that he would follow.
Severus was tempted to take himself to bed, let Poppy and the headmaster deal
with the boy. But then he remembered the cuffs around the boy's wrists, the
panic in his eyes. Leaving him was not an option. Severus flooed to the
hospital wing, glad that the headmaster had had the sense to remove the ward on
the floo.
From Poppy’s reaction, he expected to step into chaos. Instead, his entrance
was met with silence; until, of course, a certain mutt turned and snarled at
him.
“I don’t understand why he’s here,” Black snapped. “I’m Harry’s godfather. What
makes you think Snivellus here will have any more luck than I did?”
Dumbledore stepped in, no doubt to soothe the dog’s hurt feelings, but Severus
was no longer listening. His eyes were fixed on a golden dome in the far corner
of the room, and the boy writhing inside it. His mouth was open in a scream,
though no sound could be heard. He fingers were clawing at his forehead,
leaving deep gouges behind. His eyes were squeezed shut, and blood ran in
rivulets down his face.
Severus didn’t stop to think. His legs carried him to the edge of the dome, a
hand reaching out to test the magic. He could feel a mild current running over
what felt like a shield charm, a silencing charm, and a ward all wrapped into
one. It was an unusual piece of accidental magic. But that wasn’t important,
not now at least. He pressed his hand into the shield and was surprised to find
very little resistance. He heard a yell and a gasp behind him, but the voices
were far away. He stepped forward and knelt down, placing himself fully inside
the dome.
And all he could hear was the scream; hoarse, strangled, deafening, the boy was
in agony. Severus grabbed Kaleb’s wrists, pulling his hands away from his face,
pinning them one handed above the boy’s head. His legs thrashed, knee
connecting with Severus’ side, and Severus threw his leg over the boy’s thighs,
his free hand settling on Kaleb’s chest. The dome flashed, but he was more
concerned with the boy’s continued screams, the heels kicking against the
floor. Why wasn’t he waking up? Even if Poppy had drugged him again, a
nightmare like this should have woken him up. And why had no one stopped the
boy from injuring himself?
Suddenly, the screams cut off, the body beneath him went rigid, and green eyes
snapped open, staring wildly around him. “Kaleb?” Severus said softly. Green
eyes met black, and the tension in the boy’s muscles relaxed. His eyes closed
slowly, a single tear ran down his cheek.
“I had a nightmare, didn’t I?” His voice was rough, throat raw. He hesitantly
met Severus’ eyes again as Severus nodded.
“You injured yourself,” Severus stated. “Deep scratches on your forehead. I
would like to heal you, and then I would like an explanation.”
Severus waited for the boy to nod his assent, then slowly let go of his wrists
and reached for his wand. He was so focused on Kaleb, he didn’t see Sirius
barreling toward him until the idiot had tackled him to the ground. Severus
mentally berated himself for allowing the boy to distract him so completely as
he felt the tip of Black’s wand dig into his neck.
“What do you think you're doing  Snape ?” Sirius spat. “And why the  hell
could you get through that shield when none of us could?”
“Sirius, please calm down,” Dumbledore’s voice called. “Harry is obviously
frightened-”
“Of course the kid’s scared! This greasy git just assaulted him!”
Severus turned his head the best he could, seeking out Kaleb. Sure enough, the
boy was huddled in the corner, wide eyes trying to watch everything at once.
The scratches on his forehead were still dripping trails of blood down his
face.
Severus turned back to Black and sneered. “Your  godson  is bleeding, you fool.
Perhaps that should concern you more than your petty schoolboy issues.”
Black reeled back as if he’d been slapped. The idiot had actually forgotten
Kaleb’s injuries. He spun toward the boy, wand raised, and Kaleb let out a
startled squeak, pressing himself further into the corner.
“Put your wand away, you halfwit!” Severus snapped as he climbed to his feet.
“I swear, do none of you think? Albus, put a leash on your dog before he bites
someone.” He watched with some satisfaction as Dumbledore ushered Sirius a few
steps back, though the man kept his wand in his hand. Poppy started forward,
but Severus put out a hand to stop her. “Give the boy a minute, Poppy.”
Severus turned back to Kaleb and waited as his breathing began to slow. “Look
at me, Kaleb,” he said firmly, and the boy’s eyes snapped to his face.
“Who the hell is Kaleb?” He heard Black growl behind him, but Dumbledore
shushed him before he could work himself into another fit.
“Up,” Severus commanded. The boy stood, legs a little unsteady, but obviously
determined not to ask for help. “Get into bed, and I’ll fix your forehead.”
Kaleb walked slowly to his bed, careful not to turn his back on the other three
people in the room. Severus smirked, wondering if Black even realised how
little his godson trusted him. Once Kaleb had crawled between his sheets,
Severus approached the bed, waving Poppy back again. He pulled up the chair and
sat, meeting Kaleb’s eyes. “Ready?” He asked as he raised his wand.
“Yes, sir,” came the quiet reply.
Kaleb didn’t flinch when Severus whispered the spells to close the wounds and
clean the blood off his face. Severus knew he should be concerned that the boy
trusted him that much, but instead, he just felt resigned, and perhaps a little
smug. Kaleb needed to trust someone, and while he might not be the best choice,
he was certainly better than his wretched godfather.
“Tell me about the nightmares,” he said calmly.
“I haven’t had one in a long time,” Kaleb began. “Not since Mac taught me
Occlumency.”
Severus nodded. Clearing your mind, being able to compartmentalise your
thoughts, was an effective way to stave off nightmares. It was one of the
reasons he’d decided to learn Occlumency himself.
“I told them I didn’t want Dreamless Sleep… But they didn’t listen.” Kaleb shot
a glare over Severus’ shoulder at that, but Severus didn’t bother to see who he
was glaring at. Dreamless Sleep should have stopped the nightmares entirely.
He’d never known it not to work. The only disadvantage of that particular
potion was its addictive properties, making it unsafe to use for extended
periods of time.
“Does Dreamless Sleep always make the nightmares worse?” He asked.
“Yes, sir. Almost always at least.”
Severus thought about this for a moment before asking his next question. “Do
you know why we couldn’t wake you up?”
“No, but Mac could never wake me up from those nightmares either.”
“And the shield?”
“Shield?” Kaleb’s eyes widened in surprise.
“I take it that was not intentional.”
“No, sir,” he replied, shaking his head.
“Very well. Poppy,” Severus called over his shoulder, “when did you give him
Dreamless Sleep?”
“Around 6pm last evening, but it was a low dose. It should be out of his system
by now. Why?” She asked.
Severus ignored her question and turned back to Kaleb. “I don’t know if you’ll
be able to get back to sleep, but you should try. I need to go speak with your
godfather and the headmaster. Unless there is anything else you’d like to tell
me?”
“No, sir.”
Severus stared at Kaleb for a few seconds. There was something else, something
the boy was holding back. He doubted anyone else would have noticed the slight
tightening around the boy’s eyes when he lied, but Severus had spent years
learning to notice these things. But Kaleb wasn’t ready to share, and he had no
choice but to accept the lie, for now. “Very well,” he said as he stood and
began to walk away.
“Wait, sir?” Kaleb called, stopping Severus mid-stride.
Severus turned back to the bed, waiting as Kaleb fidgeted. “Yes?” He prompted.
“It’s just, well, you never told me your name…”
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