Chapter Text
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.