jharad17 - Whelp

The boy looked so confused, Severus relented. "I know it's a lot to take in, but Harry, you have to realize, no one else has ever survived that curse. The fact that you did, and that the Dark Lord has not been seen since the night he tried to kill you, makes you rather famous in our world. There are those who will fawn over you, those who will expect much more from you, and there are those who will not believe you capable of such magic and will resent you for it."

He paused, and considered whether to say more, but he had to, if he were to properly address the next issue. "And then there are those who followed the Dark Lord, who will be . . . less enthusiastic about the fact that you sent him scurrying. Those people, you will need to be careful of. I will protect you to the best of my ability, of course. But you will have to be vigilant as well."

"Vigilant?"

"On your guard. Even here, at Hogwarts, I'm afraid. Some of the children here have parents who once followed the Dark Lord. Of course, many of them say they were forced to act against their will, but . . ." He sighed, and stopped. There was no reason to get into the reasons why some Death Eaters were in Azkaban and others were not. It was enough – perhaps even too much – for the boy to know they were still out there.

"Will they try and kill me?" The question was so earnest, and serious, from such a young, innocent face that Severus wanted to scream from the unfairness of it all. This boy had been through so much, in his short life. Unloved, uncared for, aside from his first year, abused and neglected, then uprooted from everything familiar and told his parents were murdered . . .

But he owed Harry the truth. "They might," he said softly. "You will need to be very careful around them, and it is possible no one will mean you harm. But you will also be under my protection," he reminded him. "And I will keep you safe."

Harry nodded once, his expression not quite believing, and for some reason, that made Severus even more angry at the Dursleys than he had been since the night he cursed them. That they had used their six years as the boy's guardians to teach him little except for how not to trust that anyone would protect him, and that there was naught he could expect from life but pain. He hated them for it, and wished he'd used the Killing Curse on them instead, or had them sent to Azkaban where their every torment would plague them forever in the clutches of the Dementors.

But while his own legal status was mostly secure right now, he knew the Ministry still considered him just another Death Eater that they hadn't been able to imprison and would jump at the chance to rectify their lapse. As well, too much publicity about the Muggles the Boy Who Lived had been placed with would just put Harry's status in jeopardy. Thus, he had to content himself with knowing that at least for the next few years, the Dursleys would not have a moment when they were not reliving – as though in Harry's place – what they'd put him through. At least in their minds.

"Do you have any questions?" he asked now, though he suspected he had overloaded the boy with information that he'd have to process.

As expected, Harry shook his head. "No, Father."

"Then we have one more issue to discuss. We have been invited to have tea tomorrow with an old . . . friend of mine. He has a son about your age, Draco, who is also my godson. The Malfoys are an old Wizarding family, very influential in some circles, and they are anxious to meet you."

Harry was quiet again, and when he spoke, Severus was quite pleased that he seemed to understand the implications of the two topics he'd presented. "Do I need to be careful around them, then?"

"Yes. But Lucius Malfoy is very well thought of at the Ministry, just now, and it is unlikely he would do anything to jeopardize his position."

"Okay."

"Good." Severus rose. "It's nearly lunchtime. Why don't you go wash up and I'll have the house elves send us something to eat."

"Yes, Father!"

Severus watched the boy scramble off to the bathroom, the prospect of a regular meal still as exciting to him today as it had been earlier in the week. One day, he hoped Harry would take such things as meals and safety for granted.

---

After lunch, Harry's father sent him off with Nelli, so he could get some work done, he said, in his new classroom. Harry didn't mind, 'cause Nelli was willing to show him around Hogwarts, though she said she couldn't take him out to the pitch without specific permission from his father. She showed him where the kitchens were, though, and some of the nearby student bathrooms, which he thought were huge and grand, with marble fixtures, and odd statues peeking out from corners. In the corridors, they passed hundreds of suits of armor and millions of statues, all of them wizards and witches, Nelli said, and Harry tried to read the plaques on their bases, but couldn't parse many of the words, only some of the letters. Nelli showed him some of the other classrooms, too, and they even toured a beautiful summer garden before she took him into the Great Hall.

Harry stood in the doorway of the enormous chamber, gaping up at the sky. They were indoors, and yet . . . the sky! Like his bedroom back at Spinner's End, but this one was so huge!

"It changes, Master Harry, sir, when the weather changes outside," Nelli said.

"It's brilliant! Is it magic?"

Nelli nodded happily. "Oh, yes, Master Harry. Hogwarts is having magic in the walls and in all her rooms and everywhere."

"Really? Is it all good magic?"

"Yes, Master Harry, sir. Hogwarts magic is the bestest kind of magic. House elves, like Nelli, sir, very much like working here."

Harry smiled at her. "I like it here, too."

"What have we here?" a voice drawled, behind them.

Harry jumped and spun in place. A very ugly man with stringy hair and beady eyes looked him up and down and scowled, more nastily than even Father could manage in his worst moods. A scraggly cat wound in and around his legs, its yellow eyes blinking slowly.

"Sorry, sir! I was just looking."

The man's face darkened as he caught sight of dirt from the garden on Harry's shoes. "Sneak in here, did you? Not enough to spend all my time cleaning up after brats while school's in, now you come in to ruin my work in summer, too? I won't have it!" The man grabbed Harry by the collar. "I'll have you to the Headmaster, boy!"

Though usually very fast, Harry was surprised enough that he did not dodge in time to avoid the man's claw-like grip. Too quickly, he found himself dangling by the collar, toes barely touching the floor as the man dragged him back down the corridor. Harry's breath came very fast, and he caught at the door frame, but the man was strong and pulled him away. The hard wood scraped his hands raw.

"Nelli!" he cried, but the house elf vanished with a pop . The man didn't slow, and Harry knew he was in real trouble, probably he'd get a beating. "Please, sir! I'm sorry. I didn't know I wasn't s'posed to go—"

"Shuddup, ye whelp. The Headmaster will hear of this. I'll have you in chains 'fore the day is out, you mark my words."

No! Oh, no. Not the chain again, he couldn't do that again . . . Harry could barely breathe, and thought, if he could just get to his father, if he could just get away for a second . . . He scrabbled at the hand gripping his shirt, digging into the man's flesh with his nails, and though the man cursed him and shook him hard, he didn't let go.

Oh, no. Please . He wanted to scream, but after the man shook him, he couldn't get any air into his lungs, couldn't breathe at all. Father, help!

A bright white light flared around Harry for the briefest of moments, then formed into a ball and darted away, toward the massive stairs and through the door to the dungeons. The man dragging him forward didn't pay any attention to it, though, and hauled him to the steps. Harry's feet and ankles banged on the steps as the man swung him up each one. Harry clawed at his shirt, bunched tight at his throat. Flecks of light sparked in his vision as the rest of the world went dark.