Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Dursley house was quiet in the morning. The house itself settled and groaned sometimes, mostly the stairs. Light coming through the windows was gentle and calm; a thing that often wasn’t seen when people awoke. When footsteps were heard throughout the house that was when the whole demeanor changed and the house became something of a facade. The lights turned harsh and the floorboards creaked, the roof becoming heavy. Harry woke up one morning to Dudley running… mmm more like trampling down the stairs; the noise like a machine gun in Harry’s ears. It was Dudley’s birthday. Harry’s eyes blinked open as soon as the dust from the floorboards stopped falling. He sat up, being careful to not hit his head on the ceiling and fumbled for his glasses. It had been day four in the cupboard with little to no food, nor water and sometimes bathroom brakes if they remembered. 

 

Today they were going to let Harry out to cook Dudley’s breakfast, Aunt Petunia had told him that last night through the slot. Dudley’s birthday was the worst day out of the year that Harry had to live through. The day would get so bad Harry wished that Dudley or himself had never been born. Either would have been fine for him if he didn’t have to live through the day. 

 

Aunt Petunia would be coming to get him soon and make him work hard. He sat up, putting on his glasses and pushing his blankets off. He stayed still and waited until footsteps were heard and the latch was unlocked and he was grabbed by the shoulder of his oversized shirt and hauled out. Harry didn’t make a noise he just followed, his legs wobbly like a new born deer. He squinted, trying to adjust to the bright lights. 

 

His feet met the cold tile that was the kitchen and Aunt Petunia quickly let him go once she didn’t have to drag him anymore. Instantly she headed for the sink to wash the hand that she had touched Harry with. He simply stood still and watched her do so, hating it. He knew he was disgusting and didn’t surprise him, but he wished that she would just give him the instructions and then leave him alone. 

 

She turned around and grabbed a hand towel, drying them off while trying not to look Harry directly in the eye. His faded eye made the entire Dursley family uncomfortable and because of it little to no eye contact was ever made. He narrowed his gaze and waited for Aunt Petunia to be done. 

 

“Make eggs, bacon, sausage, orange juice and potatoes,” she said, briskly, putting the towel away. 

 

“Yes ma’am,” he answered, nodding his head. His voice sounded odd to him. He hadn’t talked in a while so his voice sounded scratchy and dehydrated. He wondered if they would let him drink water or eat some of the leftovers that Dudley wouldn’t eat. Except Dudley ate a lot so there wouldn’t be much left over. He quickly gave up on the idea of food and simply focused on the water. 

 

Harry got started on the meal and Aunt Petunia left the kitchen to go watch Dudley open presents. When she was gone Harry got out pans and ingredients and began to cook. It became a routine that he enjoyed; cooking. It was something that had rules and couldn’t really be messed up if you just did everything right. It was unpredictable like the way he often was treated. It all made sense and in the end you got something that looked and tasted nice. 

 

His ritual was interrupted because of the shouting he heard from Dudley. It was over something that Harry would have expected from someone spoiled like Dudley. It was simply because he didn’t have enough presents. Harry’s eyes narrowed, looking toward the passage that led to the living room. If there was one thing that Harry hated most of all it was how detached his cousin was from the life that Harry lived. 

 

The difference in discipline was like night and day when it came to the two boys. Harry didn’t get presents for his birthday, he didn’t get to eat three meals a day, he didn’t get hugs and kisses. The only reason that Harry knew something was wrong with the way that he was treated was because Dudley was treated so differently. If they both weren’t allowed to have a room and shared the cupboard Harry would believe that that was simply how children were treated and maybe things wouldn’t be so bad. But that wasn’t reality. Reality was Dudley got 36 presents and Harry forgot when his birthday was because it was so looked over. 

 

He shut out the screaming child and continued to make one the biggest meals that he had to make throughout the year. Dudley would also want a cake but he would get started on that later. He put everything into bowls and onto plates and then set the table. For a moment he stood back and looked at his handiwork and was simply happy that it was over. He shifted, despising the idea that the Dursleys would come in and ruin it all. They had a habit of doing that though, so he turned and went back to the pantry to begin on the cake. 

 

That day the Dursleys were going to go to the zoo. Dudley had been talking about it and flaunting over it for the last week or so. Harry wished that he would be able to go but he didn’t want to go with Dudley who would most likely block Harry’s entire view of every animal with his large silhouette. He convinced himself that it wouldn’t be worth it and continued on with his day. 

 

The Durlsey’s eventually joined him in the kitchen and avoided acknowledging his existence. Harry was fine with doing the same. Dudley ate… and ate… and ate. So did Uncle Vernon. Aunt Petunia wasn’t one for eating, giving her a small stature and a pale complexion. Harry noticed it all too well because sometimes when he saw himself on a reflective surface he thought that he looked too much like her. Not eating a lot must do that to you. 

 

After breakfast Aunt Petunia kissed Dudley’s head and told him to go get ready for the zoo. He pushed back his chair and jumped to his feet. His footsteps could be heard down the hall and up the stairs. Harry frowned. 

 

What he did notice was the whispers that were coming from the table. 

 

“No, no she can’t do it,” Aunt Petunia whispered. 

 

“Just send him over to her house,” he hissed. 

 

“No, she’s asleep for most of the day. We cannot have people believing that we don’t treat him right. Think of how that reflects on you. Just bring him and we’ll make sure he isn't any trouble.”

 

Uncle Vernon leaned back in his chair and sighed. He sounded angry and Harry tried to move in small motions so as to not draw any attention to himself. His Uncle often liked to take his anger out on Harry so he had learned how to avoid it sometimes. But this time it was no use because he could feel the eyes of his guardians on him. It took everything in him to not glance over. It was going well until he heard the scraping of his Uncle’s chair against the floor and he stood up. 

 

Harry faltered for a moment but continued on, hoping that it wasn’t noticed. 

 

“Boy,” his Uncle said, the sound ringing through the kitchen. 

 

Harry froze and slowly turned to look up at the tall man. He was glowering down at him. His hands began to shake, the eggs in his hand feeling too fragile to actually hold onto. 

 

“Y-yes sir?” he answered. Again his voice sounded extremely small. 

 

“Mrs. Figg has gotten injured and cannot look after you this morning.” He paused for a moment, thinking over what he was about to say and if he actually wanted to say it. “You will be coming to the zoo with us–but do not think that this trip is something you can mess around with. If I see you do anything, if I hear anything or if anything strange happens I will have you locked up in the cupboard for weeks, no food, no water and hopefully you just die.” 

 

Harry nodded. Hopefully you just die. The words echoed in his head. If anything happened Uncle Vernon didn’t care if he lived or died. In fact it sounded like he would like to kill Harry himself. The only problem with that was things happened to Harry that he often couldn’t explain. Things that he couldn’t control. If that happened on this outing then he would be dead. He shivered at the thought and didn’t move until Uncle Vernon turned and left the room to go watch TV. Aunt Petunia glanced at Harry and then left the room. 

 

He stood there for a moment and then set the eggs down on the counter and began to go on with his day cooking, trying to keep the impending doom from his mind. His hands shook the whole time and he glanced at the entrance every time he heard shifting from the lounge. 

 

Dudley came back downstairs and that was when everything began. Harry had finished getting the cake out of the oven and put it into the refrigerator to cool. He would most likely be decorating it before the night. Then they left the house, Harry following behind them. They put Dudley in the car and then realized that they had to bring Harry along too. For a moment they just stood there and then looked at each other in a type of disgust as if asking each other if they were really going to put this kid in their car. Harry shifted his weight from one foot to the other and clenched his hands at his sides. He didn’t want to be in that car anymore than they wanted him in there. 

 

Aunt Petunia pointed to the seat away from Dudley and then went to her own side, getting in. Harry hesitated but didn’t want to get in trouble for disobeying rules and quickly climbed in. He buckled himself up and held on tightly to the seatbelt. 

 

He hated being in cars. Ever since he found out that was how his parents had died he wondered if that was how he was going to go. 

 

They drove for about 10-15 minutes before they approached the zoo and found a parking spot. Uncle Vernon of course was frustrated that all the ear parking spots were taken and continued to curse under his breath, getting red in the face. Harry held onto the seatbelt tighter, hoping that his Uncle didn’t turn and hit him for the filled spots. He would find some way to blame it on Harry. 

 

Once they were parked and his Uncle had calmed down the family agreed to get out of the car. Dudley hoped out, a smile plastered on his face. It was at moments like this that Harry saw just a kid who was excited to do things and not that bully that tormented him. He saw a kid that he could have been friends with… It made him sad but he pushed the thought aside and got out of the car. 

 

He knew that he wasn’t supposed to walk beside the family but behind them so he waited for them to start walking before he followed. For a minute he was excited to go in. Dudley wasn’t the only one who truly wanted to go to the zoo and see the animals, Harry was also quite interested. The mural out on the side of the zoo walls depicted animals in bright colors, surrounded by tropical flowers. 

 

The animal that really stood out to Harry was the snack. It had bright green scales and was wrapped around a tree. It had bright yellow eyes and it almost seemed to be looking at him. He continued to look until the Dursleys came to a stop at the entrance where their tickets would be checked. 

 

They had to pay extra for Harry which did not go over well with Uncle Vernon who complained about the expense under his breath and the cards got stamped and they received bracelets to show that they were allowed to be inside. Harry got one and he looked at it in a bit of awe. He had never had one of those before, Dudley was always the one to be getting them and flaunting them in front of Harry. Now Dudley couldn’t hold this one over him. A small smile crept onto his face and he put his arm down, letting his sleeve cover it. 

 

Once they were inside they went to see what Dudley wanted to see. They saw the big lions that were walking around, the Elephants, penguins and polar bears. It was surprising how many interesting animals they had at the zoo. Harry stared at them all with a slightly ajar jaw. Sometimes he caught Aunt Petunia looking at him sadly but then she would quickly look away. She often looked at him like that and Harry wondered why. 

 

Then they came to the reptile enclosure. This was the part that Harry was most excited about. Ever since he had seen the snake on the wall he had been thinking about it the whole time. He decided that even if the Dursleys left early he would stay behind and watch the snakes and then catch up with them later; he was sure they wouldn’t notice. 

 

They walked into the humid room and instantly Harry knew he was going to like it. It was a long hallway filled with tiny glasses in enclosures that were filled with reptiles; mostly snakes. He stared at each one and each one stared back. It was odd, it was like the scaly creatures were only looking at him. Whenever he moved, the animal's head would follow him and they would just stare. A few people noticed and glanced at each other but moved along. 

 

Suddenly he heard shouting from his cousin. 

 

‘Where is it?!” he shouted. “It’s asleep! Wake it up dad!” 

 

Harry’s head whipped around to see what poor creature Dudley was abusing. 

 

People turned to look Dudley’s way and slowly Harry approached. There was a huge snake, the biggest one Harry had ever seen. It was coiled up and around things in the large terrarium and it was sleeping just like Dudley had shouted. Harry made his way to stand beside his cousin but a bit of a ways away, just to make it seem like he wasn’t associated with him. 

 

He stared at the snake and then something odd happened. Dudley whined that it wasn’t moving and uninteresting. He turned and went to a different enclosure. Harry was thankful that he left the poor snake alone and leaned against the railing to look at the snake. 

 

“Sorry about him,” he mumbled. “Blundering idiot, if you ask me. I think you’re plenty interesting.”

 

It twitched and Harry stiffened. He shut his mouth and clenched his jaw, feeling something odd happening. It was that same feeling he got before something bad happened that would be blamed on him. But he couldn’t move, all he could do was sit and stare. 

 

The snake moved slowly, its body twisting in odd ways but that all pointed towards him. It tilted its head and then turned, like it was scanning the crowd before its eye landed on Harry. And then it advanced. Harry’s brow furrowed. 

 

“Can you hear me?”

 

The snake's head bobbed up and down. Harry was shocked but a small smile spread across his face. He leaned closer. 

 

“That’s amazing,” he whispered. 

 

Harry was sure something great could have come from this interaction but all of the sudden he heard his cousins shouts again and suddenly he was being body slammed to the side. Dudley had rammed into him so hard that it sent him flying to the floor. He sat up, adjusting his glasses and glared at Dudley feeling furious about the whole thing. 

 

His thoughts started out slow; why did Dudley get to shove him around? Then they quickened; why do I let it happen, what did I ever do to him? And then they were racing; I baked his cake for him! I treat him like a king and he shoves me around! He’s just like Uncle Vernon, I hate him, I hate him, I-

 

Now it was confusing what happened but while Dudley had his face pressed up against the glass the glass suddenly disappeared and Dudley fell head first into the terrarium! It was a shock to Harry and his eyes widened, his shoulders stiffening. Dudley screamed and thrashed in the water but the snake didn’t take any mind of Dudley. It lifted its head and began to slither out of its cage. 

 

Once in front of Harry it did a sort of bow only a snake can down and then came closer. “Thankssss,” it hissed. 

 

Harry’s eyes widened and he couldn’t believe it. Was a snake really talking to him? “N-no problem, any time,” he stuttered back. 

 

The snake nodded, keeping its eyes fixed on Harry, once more and then left, making people scream and scramble away. Harry watched the snake leave and fled a pang of loss. That was the first creature that had spoken to him nicely in a long while and now it was just leaving. He hesitated but wanted to get up and follow it. He wished he had because right after the snake was out of sight the worst part of the whole thing came. 

 

Dudley stood up and reached out his hand to get out of the cage only to find a glass wall, separating him from the outside world. That was when his cousin began to scream. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon found him and began to scream too. Harry should have refrained from smiling and perhaps should have joined them, acting like he was truly scared for Dudley’s life but he didn’t. Instead a small smile creeped onto his face as he watched the scene from the floor. He wondered later that day why he couldn’t have kept it hidden because the worst person possible saw it.

 

Uncle Vernon looked down and got one look at the smile on Harry’s face and realized who had done this horrible action. And he was going to make Harry’s life hell. 

 

——————

 

Harry was dragged inside by his hair, right behind Dudley who was shivering and crying, held by a shivering and crying Aunt Petunia. She brought Dudley to the couch but Harry was dragged upstairs. He tried to climb the stairs as fast as Uncle Vernon did but he couldn’t keep up and that ended in banged up shins. At the top of the stairs he was dragged to a room. 

 

It was the spare bedroom that he was thrown into, onto the floor, his glasses knocked off his face. Everything became blurry and he looked around for his glasses but couldn’t see them. The room itself was dark; the blinds were closed. He felt around the carpet and was met with a dirty floor that hadn’t been cleaned in a while. They never used this room; only when Aunt Marge came to stay. For a moment Harry wondered why he was here and not in the cupboard but he would soon get his answer. 

 

All he could really see was the blurry figure of a tall, large man who was grabbing something from the closet. 

 

Suddenly his hair was being grabbed again and he was lifted to his knees. Harry scrambled and grabbed at the hand that held onto his roots so tightly but they didn’t let go, no matter how much Harry scratched. 

 

His Uncle's words were hot on his face and stifled the boy. “I know you did that boy,” he said, his voice shaking with rage. “You think I didn’t notice it? Well I did. And I told you what I would do if you decided to play tricks, didn’t I?!”

 

Harry tried not to cry so he simply nodded instead of speaking. Uncle Vernon shook him slightly and then threw him back onto the ground. Harry was shaking and still couldn’t see. He blinked and clenched his hands into fists, keeping his eyes on the figure that was pacing. 

 

Uncle Vernon’s breaths were labored and fast. “I’ll teach you?” He said under his breath. “I will teach you.”

 

After that it was all a blur really. Harry just remembered waking up in the cupboard, unable to open one eye and his body aching so badly he couldn’t move. His lip was split and he tasted blood in his mouth. His shirt was ripped in the shoulder… his knees were really bruised and his head ached. He had welts all over his body, it hurt to breathe. He still didn’t have his glasses. 

Chapter Text

After that no one came for him, which he had expected. Uncle Vernon had told him that he would leave him in the cupboard to rot and he was a man of his word most of the time. Harry was grateful for being left alone for a moment because he couldn’t move and didn’t even want to try to do so. The tiny room was dark and cold but he appreciated it because his injuries burned and the light hurt his eyes.

When his eyes closed and he drifted in between the world and dreams things became odd and scary. His eyelids were painted with familiar scenes and his head was filled with voices. On the first night back in the cupboard he had one of the most awful dreams that he had ever had.

It started out on a dark street. His vision moved like a snake, slowly making its way down the street. It was fixed on one particular house. The house itself was cute, the lights from the window were warm and there was a garden out front. Vines were growing up the side of the brick walls and it looked like they were wilting due to cold weather. A perfect house for a little family. As his perspective got closer he saw carved pumpkins out in the front. Two big ones and then a tiny one that looked like it was for a baby.

When he reached the front steps there was a knock on the door and his vision blurred. A man opened it but he couldn’t see his face. He was tall with wild black hair. Then yelling and screaming and everything was blurring together.

Inside the house the furniture curved and the walls faded together, the wall paper becoming weird shapes. Up, up the stairs to a room that Harry didn’t want to go in. No matter how hard he tried to wrench himself away from this dream he couldn’t and it just continued, bringing him right to the place where he didn’t want to be.

The door to this room opened and there was screaming and a bright flash of green light. A wisp of red hair and suddenly a lady was laying on the floor and there was screaming and crying. Harry tried to open his eyes or thrash himself out of the dream until his lids opened and he was gasping and tears were falling from his eyes, making the cuts on his face sting. It hurt, everything hurt. His body, his mind, his eyes. It hurt to just lay there in the dark not being able to do anything about his situation.

He focused on his breathing and tried to calm that down. Once he did the world stopped spinning and he could focus on the floorboards above his head. Tears were still coming out of his eyes but he couldn’t reach his hands up to his face to stop it or wipe them away. He closed his eyes again but refused to fall back asleep.

After day two in the cupboard he was moving, limitedly and could roll around with much effort, though he chose not too. His shoulder was all messed up and he refused to lay on it. It still hurt to move but at least he was able to now. A few times he tried to remember exactly what Uncle Vernon had done to him but the memory alluded to him.

By day three he heard whispering from the kitchen. He tried to listen because he heard something that alluded to him. Then there was the sound of ripping paper and the trash can being opened and closed. He didn’t take notice of it at that point but still found it kind of odd. That night he dreamed of owls.

Snowy white owls, barn owls, all types of owls. The scene was weird. He was in a forest that he had never seen before, he didn’t even know if he had ever been in a forest before. All these owls were perched on top of branches and they were just staring at him. For some reason Harry felt taller, older, more mature and he was walking towards them. They all had letters in their claws and they wouldn’t move or even twitch. They were waiting for him to come closer. When he was close enough to see that their faces were distorted and looked like skulls they all began to screech and fly at him.

He woke up shortly after that.

Day four there was more talk about letters. Day by day as Harry became more disoriented and his injuries refused to heal properly he heard more about letters and the very sound of them in rooms. At one point it sounded like a flood of letters in the living room and everyone was screaming but Harry could barely lift his head. He wondered what was happening and he felt frightened.

Day eight in the cupboard Harry realized that he would die. He lay there and tried not to cry as he curled in on himself. He closed his eyes for what felt like the last time and tried to fall asleep, hopefully to not have a bad dream. Suddenly the cupboard opened. Harry flinched in on himself and tried to turn away.

Uncle Vernon grabbed him by his shoulder and dragged him out. Harry yelped at the searing pain that he felt in his shoulder. He flailed around and tried to hit Uncle Vernon as a reflex but he didn’t have that much strength.

“Let go, let go!” He shouted.

Uncle Vernon quickly became annoyed and slapped him across the face and then dropped him to the floor. Harry hit his head and the whole world went dark for a moment. When he came too he gagged a few times until he realized that the man was talking to him, standing over him, his voice low and stern.

He was laying flat on his back, blinking up at the blurry man - he still didn’t have his glasses. The light in the hallway was making him see spots and he wondered if he would pass out soon. Everything was too bright and his breath was extremely labored. Uncle Vernon was telling him something that he couldn’t understand so he just laid there and nodded, hoping this wasn’t something that he had to respond to. The man huffed and then left Harry on the floor.

He blinked a couple of times, trying to see if he could sit up. It was hard because he had been kicked in the stomach a couple of times and he was sure something was broken inside of his stomach. Even so he tried to hoist himself up on his elbows, his head spinning and foggy until finally he was sitting up, by himself. He looked around at the house and saw letters… just letters all around. He blinked and picked one up that was laying beside him.

He wasn’t very good at reading, teachers before had told him that with great disdain, but he sure knew what his name looked like. And from what he could see through his blurry vision was his name in big letters on the back of every single one of these letters. He wished he had his glasses but since he didn’t he stuffed it into his pocket, folding it in half. He would read it later when he got his glasses back. They should just be upstairs in the spare bedroom. Could he make it up there by himself? Would they let him?

Suddenly Aunt Petunia was in front of him. He flinched, closing his eyes and pushing himself up against the wall. She wasn’t someone to lash out at him and hit him, she had only hurt him a couple times and that was when he messed up in the kitchen. One time when he was really he tried to reach up to the stove after she had told him not to. She had grabbed his hand and pressed it down on the burner until he was screaming and crying. Another time she slammed his hand in the cupboard after she had told him to keep his fingers away. It was mostly little things like that. Even still Harry didn’t know what to expect anymore.

He didn’t get hit or even yelled at, in fact something dropped into his lap. He squinted at the object and found his glasses. They looked more broken than usual but he put them on his face and… yeah, no, they were more broken than usual. He looked up, still tense and saw her, now a bit more clearly. She was just looking at him, her brows pressed together and guilt written all over her face. Harry wished that she would just never look at her instead of looking at her like that. She turned and walked away.

Harry sat there on the floor against the wall, wishing that he knew what was going on and why they had suddenly let him out. He felt exhausted again and his head was still swimming. He needed something to eat or drink or else he was going to die.

Slowly he began to crawl his way to the kitchen, moving past piles of letters. He felt like a dehydrated cowboy in one of the shows that Dudley watched. He was crawling toward life or water or something. Upon reaching the kitchen he found no one to be there. He was relieved and instantly went for the sink. Turning on the faucet he stuck his mouth under it and just drank. After he was full he instantly went for something on the counter, anything on the counter. If nothing else he would resort to the garbage can. Never in the pantry; if someone found him in there they would freak and he would go back into the cupboard, he just knew it.

There was an apple set on top of a few letters on the counter. His eyes lit up and he grabbed it, eating it quickly before any of the Dursley’s could find him. He still felt lightheaded but the ache in his stomach was finally gone. He sat on the floor, head in hands, trying to keep himself from completely blacking out.

It was a long moment before the Dursley’s actually came back down stairs. He heard them moving down and when they reached the bottom the sound of bags hit the floor. Why were they carrying luggage?

Harry grabbed the side of the counter and helped himself up onto his feet. He looked around the kitchen and saw more letters addressed to him. His brow furrowed and he reached for another one. He wasn’t able to see where they had come from when he didn’t have his glasses on. He looked at it and found one of the oddest sounding names ever. Hogwarts? That was when he heard something about the letters from Uncle Vernon.

“If we leave they won’t be able to find us and then maybe they’ll give up and leave us alone,” he told Aunt Petunia, under his breath.

Harry looked up at the sound, his lips pursed together. Against his better judgment, hobbled his way to the hallway and he stood there awkwardly, staring up at the family. He felt stupid, holding the letter addressed to him, knowing he couldn’t read most of it. “I… why are these letters for me?” he asked, hoarsely.

Their heads whipped around and they stared for a long moment at him. Each of them had two bags that looked like they were carrying just clothes. It was weird, why did they have so many clothes? Where were they going? Dudley looked like he was shaking which was odd because he had always been the one to scare Harry. Uncle Vernon looked like he was going to get angry and Aunt Petunia simply just didn’t look at him. Harry shifted his weight from one foot to the other, hoping to get an answer soon instead of just being stared at.

“We’re leaving, get in the car,” Uncle Vernon said.

Harry frowned, clutching the letter tighter in his hand and looked at the floor. He didn’t ask questions because he most likely wasn’t going to get an answer. He gave a simple nod and then went for the door but he was stopped. Uncle Vernon held out the luggage and Harry looked at it wondering if he had enough strength to actually carry it to the car but his Uncle wouldn’t give him a chance. So he grabbed both of the bags and tried to carry them to the car. It took a long while before everything was in the car and the Dursley’s were ready to leave.

Everyone got in the car and drove. It was a long drive and it was completely silent the whole time. Dudley glanced at him throughout the entire drive and every time Harry shifted in his seat Dudley would flinch and his aunt and uncle would look back at him through the rearview mirror. He didn’t understand why- in fact he didn’t understand anything that had happened in the last week.

How had that snake talked to him? How did that glass disappear? What had happened when Uncle Vernon had beat him; he didn’t remember any of it. What were the letters? What was Hogwarts and why were they leaving the house in the middle of the day because of the letters?

He stared out the window. They were driving towards the ocean, even though it looked cloudy. It looked like a nasty storm was rolling in. The last place that Harry wanted to be was near the ocean. He hated the sound of loud lightning, the cracking of thunder, the bright flashing lights, it all made him feel uneasy. But they stopped at a port and got out.

Harry followed the lead as best as he could but his legs were aching and he truly believed that something was physically broken inside of him. He couldn’t breathe correctly. His face scrunched up and he looked ahead at the family, wondering if they would ever even consider helping him. Besides, it was them who had done this. He brought his hand up to his side and just held himself, hoping that it would just make the pain go away.

“We’re here for the boat to the Hut on The Rock,” Uncle Vernon told the man that was standing beside the port.

He was a tall, thin, sickly looking man. Harry felt bad for him that this was his job. It seemed extremely boring and cold. Just uncomfortable. He made eye contact with him and the man's brow furrowed. Harry looked down; he knew better than to make eye contact with an adult if they weren’t talking to him directly. And no adult ever spoke to him directly.

“You want to go to the Hut on The Rock?” he asked, questioning Uncle Vernon's better judgment.

“Yes, we’re on vacation.”

“To the Hut?”

There was a moment of silence where Uncle Vernon stared at the man, wondering if he should shout at the man. He was already tense and this conversation was not helping anything. The port man saw the expression on his face and shrugged.

“Whatever you want but do you need a doctor for your kid? He looks in pretty bad shape. I wouldn’t mind call-”

“No, he’s ok. We already cleaned all those cuts. He’s going to be ok,” Uncle Vernon interjected before the mere idea of Harry getting help was out spoken. “He got into a tussle with another kid, you know how boys can be.”

The man nodded but he didn’t look convinced. Harry didn’t blame him. Even though he didn’t know what he looked like he knew that it wasn’t good and he certainly did not look like he had gotten help in the slightest. He had glanced down a couple of times at himself and it made him sick that he had to stop and fix his gaze on something else completely.

The man sighed. “Ok, so one ride to the Hut?”

Uncle Vernon nodded, relieved that they had finally gotten the man to simply take them and stop asking questions. After the boat was prepared they all got on and started for the hut in the middle of the ocean on a small island. Harry's gut twisted when he saw it and he wished that they would go back and just stick out whatever was happening at home. But soon the boat was there and they were getting off and grabbing luggage.

The man gave one last glance at him and then turned the boat around and left. The Dursley went for the house, ignoring Harry as much as they could. He stood there and watched the boat go. He hated this, he hated whatever was happening and how it was being handled but… what could he do about it? Half of the time he wasn’t even real to the Dursley’s and when he was he was being mistreated.

Eventually he turned and went inside.

 

It was extremely late at night when Harry’s life changed for good.

He was laying on the floor of the old beaten up house. Dudley was sleeping on the couch and he was snoring obnoxiously loud. It took everything in Harry to not leave the house completely and sleep outside but outside there was a raging storm. The Dursley’s really knew when to plan a trip because they had come here when the weather was at its worst. Thunder sounded every few minutes, leaving Harry tensed up on the floor, trying to block out the sound.

He wondered how long they would be there, hiding from letters for him. Harry had spent a hot minute, looking through the letter, trying to read the words scribbled out on the paper but it was dark and blurry and all he would make out was his name at the top and the name at the bottom. Even then the words in between were very large words that he had trouble sounding out.

After a moment of trying to read everything and sound it out, resulting in failure, he put the note back into his pocket and stared at the ceiling. He went over a lot of things in his mind, wondering when his body would stop aching, when his ribs would feel ok and if his shoulder had been popped back properly into place. All of those things he didn’t know the answer to and it made him a bit upset.

The thunder cracked loudly overhead and Harry flinched, but not as badly as when the front door flew open and hit the wall. It sounded like a second thunder strick but the undeniable sound of wood hitting the wall alerted them both. At first Harry thought it was the wind that had done it and broken the lock but when he and Dudley sat up to look at it they saw a man standing there. He was just standing in the doorway, the storm outside silhouetting him.

The man was tall and lanky and he looked soaked to the brim as he stepped inside and closed the door gently. He had a lean face with a frown plastered onto it. His shoulder length black hair was stuck to his face and he brushed it away, grumbling a bit about being sent out in a storm.

Dudley and Harry stared for a long minute before the man noticed them there. His eyes widened and then evened out and he cleared his throat. “Dudley, where are your parents?”

Dudley instantly burst into tears and just sat there crying, his mouth open wide. The man instantly looked annoyed and he turned towards the stairs as if he was waiting. His assumption was correct in waiting because a few seconds later Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were racing down the stairs to see what Dudley was crying about.

Uncle Vernon instantly stopped when he saw the man. Aunt Petunia's face paled.

“Severus,” she breathed.

The man crossed his arms and nodded. “Petunia.”

“Wh-what are you doing here?” She asked, her voice shaking.

The man - Severus - stared for a moment like she was stupid and then turned towards Harry. “We’ve sent letter upon letter and yet no response, not even to one of them. We knew you were stupid but we at least expected you to be able to write a letter.” He looked around and then for the first time his eyes landed on Harry. His whole demeanor changed and his face fell. Harry stared back and instantly knew he was looking at his bruises. Harry wished that he would stop but his eyes continued to scan the young boy's face until he blinked and straightened up. He was slow and calculated in the way that he made his way over to Harry. Harry himself was sitting upright, with this sense that he knew the man, he just didn’t know where from. The man definitely knew him.

“Or at least Harry to write a letter back but something tells me he knows nothing about them,” he muttered, his teeth clenched.

Harry frowned and shifted his weight. Severus took his attention off of the Dursleys, who were standing there like idiots, and focused in on Harry. The boy felt squeamish under the man’s cold gaze but he didn’t move.

“Harry, I want you to tell me if you know anything about the letter. Do you know what it’s about?”

It took a moment for Harry to realize that he actually had to respond to the question that was being asked. Adults didn’t ask him questions and after having no human interactions for the last week it took him out of the whole conversation thing. What was the question again? He clenched his hands into fists and remembered the letter in his pocket that he hadn’t been able to read. He just needed to form his thoughts into words and then this man would leave him alone.

“N-no sir…”

Severus’s eyes softened and he just stared for a moment. “You look tired…,” he mumbled, not expecting an answer. After a moment he stood up and turned towards the adults. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing or who you think you are but the Wizarding World will not take kindly to the state that he is in.”

The Wizarding World? Harry's brow furrowed and he looked to the Dursleys. They had paled completely and Aunt Petunia grabbed Uncle Vernon's hand tightly. The man himself was red in the face, either from fear or anger or both.

Severus continued. “You understand that right? This is their famed child and he is beaten up and looks exhausted.”

“He is prone to fighting!” Uncle Vernon bellowed. “We can’t keep him in line when he’s going out and fighting other children left and right. This is not our fault.”

Severus’s eyes widened and he looked back at Harry who was having trouble holding himself up. He was blinking like he was going to topple over any minute. Severus looked back at the Dursley’s, his eyes narrowed.

“Muggles,” he muttered. Then clearing his throat he pointed at Harry. “I will be taking him away. The school year is starting and he will be attending.”

“Take him! He’s been acting up,” Uncle Vernon answered, gesturing towards Harry who was extremely confused and wished that he could interject. “Then you will see what we have to put up with!”

Dudley began to cry louder. Severus’s eye twitched. The thunder, Uncle Vernon's voice and Dudley’s wails all together was the perfect mixture for a splitting headache. Harry flinched, as he already had a headache from his lack of water. He covered his ears and scooted away, nearer to the wall. Severus noticed and pointed at Uncle Vernon.

“Stop shouting for Merlin’s sake and get your son to just up or else I will not hesitate to use magic.”

Vernon’s face went pale and Aunt Petunia whimpered, her bottom lip quivering.

“Dudley, be quiet!” his father shouted.

Harry flinched and curled in on himself, holding his head. Dudley looked surprised and then his face melted, looking like he was going to break out into a bigger tantrum but he buried his face into the pillow and whimpered.

After a moment of silence Harry looked up to see that the man was still looking at him, that same look of guilt that Aunt Petunia always had, etched onto his face. In fact Aunt Petunia was wearing that same expression just then.

Severus sighed and passed a thin hand over his face. Then he whipped his head around to look at Vernon. “I will take Harry and if I find that he has a completely reasonable temper do not think you will not see more of me. Now Harry, grab your things, we leave at once.”

It took a moment for Harry to stand up and when he did he became dizzy and almost toppled over. Severus’s eyes widened and he walked over reaching towards Harry but he flinched back into the wall, closing his eyes. Severus stopped and Aunt Petunia looked away, while Uncle Vernon’s jaw clenched.

The silence in the room was so extremely loud it felt suffocating. Harry blinked, his chest heaving. Severus clenched his hands to fists at his side and refused to look at the boy. Nobody knew what to say and Harry could not understand why. Why did the air feel so heavy? Why did this man seem so upset and why were the Dursley’s so scared? It didn’t make any sense to him. For a moment he wondered if this man understood that something was wrong. Maybe he saw how they treated Dudley compared to him! But even still Harry was a disgusting freak. Nobody could ever want to take care of him. That is what he had been told his entire life. So why would, after so many years of people seeing him be sent outside, of seeing him in handed down clothes, seeing the bruises, the broken glasses and the bags under his eyes, why would someone care now?

The man spoke, breaking Harry out of his thoughts and to focus on him.

“Petunia, did you really have so much contempt for your sister?” Severus asked, his voice low.

Harry didn’t know what contempt meant but he was sure it didn’t mean anything good by his Aunt’s reaction. They were talking about his mother. He wished he could give an input or have something to say but his words escaped him.

Petunia straightened up, holding her head high but it wobbled slightly. She opened her mouth to answer but glanced at her husband first. He was staring at her and Harry wondered if she knew the eighth answer. She often did and then Vernon would nod and protect her. He had never really seen what happened if she had a wrong answer.

“You and Lily were freaks,” she answered, her voice shaking. “How did you wish for me to look at her? Like she was amazing? How my parents did— how you did? I simply couldn’t.”

Harry clenched his jaw. He wished they would stop talking about his mom. It was bad enough that this man knew his mother more than he did. It was bad enough that Aunt Petunia was talking about how, yet again, his mother was an awful person who abandoned him. He wanted it to stop all together for this man to leave and then hopefully the Dursley’s killed him and he wouldn’t feel so tired anymore.

His eyes narrowed. “If you have nothing kind to say about her do not speak. But your hatred for her should not have bled over into her child. Call me a freak if you must but I can think of nothing more abnormal than a human that cannot have compassion for a child.” He paused, hoping maybe that would sink in, or maybe he was taken aback by himself. Then he looked towards Dudley. “Take your son upstairs and don’t come back down. I will take Harry and leave. Hopefully he will never see you again.”

Vernon looked towards Dudley who was sitting up right again, sniffing and holding back sobs. He motioned quickly and Dudley scurried over to his father. Severus waited for them to climb back up the stairs and to hear the door close.

Harry was in awe. He had never seen someone command his Uncle and Aunt like that. Never had someone spoken down so harshly to them without having them retaliate with something horrible. If they were scared of him… then what was he capable of?

The man stared at the stairs and Harry squinted to try and get a good look at him. The only thing that was radiating light were the embers in the fireplace but those were getting darker. The man turned and then crouched down to be at Harry’s height.

“Harry… will you follow me please?”

Chapter Text

Severus was supposed to be getting ready for the school year. He was getting the curriculum together, looking over potions, seeing if he needed to buy extra ingredients, seeing what students he had this year, what first years he would have. He felt extremely behind in everything that he needed to do, he hadn’t even left his house yet.

Eventually lunchtime rolled around at Spinners End and he decided he needed a calming tea and maybe something to relax him. So he sat down with a sandwich, a cup of tea and a scroll of all the first years.

It was raining outside and the fireplace inside had been lit. It was warm which Snape liked, despite the misconception that his students had, thinking he liked the cold and dampness of his classroom. Snape did not in fact like it, that was just where he had been placed.

He was skimming the scroll, picking out names he recognized. Ronald Weasley. He frowned; this could go either way. He could want to bring the most trouble to the school like Charlie, Bill, and the twins or kiss boots like Percy. He hoped for the latter. He could teach a class pet better than the class clown.

Longbottom. He paused for a moment and sighed. Poor boy, last he heard his grandma was taking care of him.

Oh! Lovegood. Her mother was gone but her father was taking care of her if he remembered correctly.

Malfoy… he could only guess what house he would be sorted in and what trouble that would cause for himself.

Hermione Granger… that was that muggle girl. Apparently she was smart, he expected much from her.

And… oh…

Harry Potter.

The room suddenly felt too hot and the rain a bit too loud. Snape stomach clenched and he set down the paper gently. He put his arm over the side of the chair and pinched the bridge of his nose slightly.

Had it really been that long?

11 years.

It had passed by so quickly he wondered if someone had cast a time spell. Or had he simply blocked out all the moments that he thought of Lily and James? Had he simply blocked out all the times he thought of Harry in that crib? All those fights over who Harry should go to. All of the times no one had listened to him or Remus. All the times that Remus had come to his house a mess?

11 years ago? All of that?

Could grief fit in 11 years?

He paused, pursing his lips and rubbing his chin, deep in thought. He wondered how the others would take it but he realized the only person who would be truly upset by the whole thing was Minerva. People had mourned the Potters when the news had declared that Voldemort had killed them but they hadn’t known them. Not like he had at least. Not like he had known Lily.

He stopped himself immediately as he mulled over her name, her eyes, the way that he had never been closer with anyone else. He had to stop it or else he wouldn’t be able to recover. He would go back to his old ways, he just knew it.

He went back to the paper and looked again at Harry’s name. It was weird knowing someone so well that didn’t know you existed. Eventually he rolled the scroll back up and put it away.

He decided that he would see Harry, do nothing about it, not mention his parents and leave the poor boy alone. It would be better for the both of them. That Harry wouldn’t have to deal with Snape constantly being sorry for the loss of his parents and for Snape to know that this boy was doing well and he didn’t have to interfere.

The rest of the day was horrible. His mind kept going back to that night. Halloween night when his best friend was murdered.

He was packing up cauldron supplies when he internally flinched, hearing the cries of an orphan in a crib, a fresh scar searing down his face. The weight of the baby in his arms, of her in his arms. He had to step back for a moment and take a deep breath.

“Merlin,” he whispered.

He brought a hand to forehead and closed his eyes tightly, trying to forget it all. He didn’t have a fancy pool of memories like Dumbledore did but at that moment he wished for nothing more than just that.

He tried to go about his day again but his mind kept returning to those awful memories. One that continued to stick out to him was the night that the Dursleys were chosen as the new guardians. Remus was a mess and so was Snape.

They had been fighting till their voices were raw, shouting over people who were acting insane. The banging of fists on tables and Snape sitting back in his chair, exasperated and done. He had given up too soon, too early. Remus had fought till the very end but Snape couldn’t bring himself to.

You should have fought harder.

That idea echoed in his brain. He knew he should have. No one had heard from Harry ever since they had dropped him off as a baby.

The night that everyone had lost Remus had spent the night at Spinners End. The grief had been too much for him and Snape was feeling it too. Remus had talked about how they had lost the one thing that Lily and James had left behind. That they couldn’t even keep that.

That was the night that Snape went completely blank. He shut off his emotions completely and had sat there while Remus had cried and smoked and been angry. It had been a long night where Snape wished everything would go away and it did. Today was the day that it all came rushing back.

And it was the day he was visited by a good friend.

He was in the living room, sorting through books that he would use for class or simply for his own entertainment. A knock sounded on the door and he looked up toward it. His brow furrowed but he went towards it and opened it a crack.

He was met with Professor McGonagall. His brows lifted and he opened the door all the way.

“Minerva, it is good to see you,” he greeted.

She nodded, her expression serious and set. She was here for a reason and it seemed to be important. He stepped aside and gestured for her to come inside. She did and walked all the way to the living room where she stood, her arms folded. Snape closed the door and raised an eyebrow.

“What do I owe the pleasure?” He asked, feeling slightly nervous.

Minerva cleared her throat and tapped her foot, getting straight to the point. “Harry Potter has been reported for accidental magic and… talking to a snake.” Her voice was high pitched.

Snape's eyes widened. “A snake?”

She nodded. No one really knew what to say so the two of them stood there for a moment until Snape's brow furrowed and he looked back up. The last person he knew of that could speak that was Voldemort and he didn’t know what that said about the boy himself.

“Parseltongue? Are you sure? He-he’s only eleven. I… is that even possible?”

“Yes it’s possible,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I just don’t know why it would be him. Of all people… did something happen when he tried to-” she stopped herself and sighed again. “Well the incident-”

“They were murdered,” Snape interjected. “I refuse to sugarcoat it, they were murdered and there was an attempt upon Harry’s life. And if that is the reason that he can now speak Parseltongue… well I believe something needs to be taken into consideration. For his sake at least.”

She nodded and looked around. “And… well you do know that this is around the time that we start sending out letters and we haven’t received a response… for a week…”

Snape's eyes narrowed. “How many letters have you sent?”

“Last I heard there were owls on top of the house, on top of the street lamps and power cords and in their yard. It is impossible for them to not have received a letter. They are refusing to respond and I can only guess why.”

Snape clenched his jaw and frowned. Petunia hated magic. She hated everything about the wizarding world and had never been quiet about it. Summers where Snape wished to be free of bullying were filled with snide comments and dirty looks from Lily’s sister. He could only guess that she was the one who had started the hate in the household. Of course Vernon hated it as well but he was the voice of the whole thing. Magic was hated in that household so why would they want to send Harry there? It made sense in Severus’s head.

“So what are we going to do about it? Harry must come to school or else his magic will get out of hand and… well it is not an option to simply not have him go.”

Minerva was silent for a moment, just looking at Snape, as if she was going over what she was going to say and if she should say it. Snape's eyes narrowed and he stepped forward.

“What is it?”

“They want to send someone to fetch him,” she answered. “Hagrid volunteered but he was quickly denied. They want to send someone who will be responsible about the whole thing. It is either going to be me or you. I wanted to see if you would go.”

The room became silent and Snape’s mouth opened in surprise. He blinked. They wanted him to go? Why on earth would they send him? Responsible? If he saw Petunia and Vernon he would want to blow their heads off, he would want to yell, cast a tiny spell on them. He would be no better than Hagrid.

“You want to send me?”

“Yes. It would be a slim chance that I would be able to get him, due to some things that I have to attend to before the year. He also needs someone to go with to get him his books and animal. I can do it if you need me to but if you have nothing going on I would appreciate it.”

He hesitated. On one hand he would like to be a good coworker and friend, helping her in a place that she needed… but on the other hand? She wanted him to go pick up his dead best friend's child and spend time with him. He of course had things to do, he wasn’t fully packed all the way but… it did intrigue him. What was Harry like now? Did he look anything like his mother?

He sighed and passed a hand over his face. “I will go… What day do you need me to go?”

She looked relieved and a small smile formed on her face. “Unless they do not respond I need you to go tomorrow. After that you will have two days to get his books, his animal, his robes and his wand. Can you do that?”

He nodded, walking over to the books on the floor and flicking his wand at them. They levitated and started stacking themselves. “Yes, I can do that. But after it I hope you do not expect me to put in any other effort.”

She shook her head. “Oh of course not. I wouldn’t dream of it.” She got to her feet and straightened her robes, brushing them off. “Well I should be going then, as I said I have a lot to do. Oh, and I do plan on bringing up what you mentioned about You Know Who and the Paseltongue. It may take some time but I hope to get an answer for it. Thank you again Severus, this has been most helpful. I will see you when the school year starts.”

And just as quickly as she had gotten there, she was gone, out the door and down the street. Snape stood in his living room for a moment, the books all stacked, the bags all packed and the scroll of new students still sitting on his kitchen table. He felt extremely alone and sat down on the couch, revelling in it.

What had he just agreed to?

Was he really going to go pick up Harry simply to see if he looked or acted like his mother? Was he really that desperate to find some piece of Lily still in this world? It seemed pathetic in a way. It would be interesting to see the type of person Harry had become but it would also hurt. Why did he put himself in that situation?

 

It was the day that he got a letter saying that the Dursley’s had not responded to the letters that had been repeatedly sent. They needed him to go to the Hut on the Rock and retrieve Harry, get him his school supplies and then bring him to school. It would be as simple as that.

So Snape got up regretfully that night and apparated to the outside of the house. He was shocked to see where he was at. In the middle of the ocean, land nearby, he was standing on a rock with a large beaten up house right beside him. The wind was blowing and lightning was flashing in the sky, raining down upon him. He was soaking wet the second that he appeared there and it only made the night more miserable. He stared for a moment and couldn’t comprehend why the Dursley’s were here or what drove them to this place.

He tried the door and found it was locked. He sighed and got out his wand, casting the lock spell. Without him meaning for it the door swung open and hit the wall hard. He flinched and stepped inside, looking at the damage that might have been done to the wall. Not a lot but the doorknob itself looked exceptionally banged up. He closed the door with a bit of effort due to the high winds.

Once it was completely closed he sighed and backed away, turning around to survey the scene. What he saw was Dudley Dursley sitting upright on the couch, wide eyed. It was extremely dark in the room and he only saw the outline of the boy because of the embers on the fireplace.

It was a moment before Dudley was crying almost as loud as the wind outside and the parents themselves flung the door open, the light flooding down the stairs into the dark room. He made direct eye contact with Petunia first. He hadn’t seen her in a long time, not after she had announced to the whole family that she would have nothing to do with her freak of a sister.

She looked thinner and paler than she had looked when they were children. Maybe it was age or maybe it was bitterness that did it to her. Either way she didn’t look healthy behind her husband. She stared at him, the realization crossing her face as she took in that Snape, a boy from Lily’s childhood, was standing there. The two stopped at the bottom of the stairs and she was the first to speak.

“Severus…”

“Petunia.”

Neither thought that they would see each other and it would have been preferred for both if their wishes had been granted.

“Wh-what are you doing here?”

Severus took a moment to remember why he was here. He needed to get out of his head. He was here for Harry, not for this. He turned towards Dudley and began to speak, his eyes scanning the room until they fell onto a tuft of black crazy hair and the slight reflection of glasses. His brow furrowed and he continued to talk, taking a step closer before he truly saw it.

What was that on his face? Bruises? Surely… surely not. His words faltered but he knew what bruises looked like and they covered him. Without the couch blocking him Snape could see it fully now.

Harry was on the floor, sitting back on his feet. He was small and frail, sickly looking and unmoving. His glasses were broken, his hair was a mess and he had cuts and bruises all over him. The bags underneath his eyes seemed to be from more than just lack of sleep. He blinked, trying to get the image to change, thinking that maybe this was a spell to warp his vision. This couldn’t be right.

That was Lily’s boy.

It was obvious what had happened. The letters had been sent, they had been burned, they had been sent, they had been burned over and over and Harry hadn’t read a single one of them. He crouched down and Harry leaned back slightly.

He asked him if he knew anything about the letters and it took the boy a moment to answer. His brow drew together, vaguely tense. The gears in his head were turning before he answered. That was concerning, how long it took before he could properly answer a question and it wasn’t even a long question. He looked into the boy's eyes and felt intense remorse.

“You look tired…,” he muttered. After a moment he stood back and turned towards the Dursley’s. This whole interaction was in great distaste. The whole conversation went for a long time it seemed, longer than it needed to. He finally became done with the whole thing and ordered Harry to grab his things, though he was quite positive that the boy would have nothing to grab. Harry stood up and almost toppled over.

Snape's eyes widened and he stepped forward to help him if he did begin to fall but the boy had such a visceral reaction that he stopped completely. Harry shut his eyes tightly, whipped his head away and his hands came out in front of his eyes. The whole thing was a blur after that for Severus. He had said something but his mind was racing with thoughts of what had happened.

Eventually the two had been out the door, the storm still raging. He stood there for a moment, the door shut and wondered what he was going to do. He very well couldn’t aparate, the boy might pass out. They could go back inside and use the powder flu but he didn’t believe the fire was large enough and Harry might pass out again. He hadn’t brought his broom either, dammit why hadn’t he thought of anything? The worse part about this whole thing was Snape wasn’t completely sure if Harry knew anything about magic and if he didn’t explain it to him and then do something crazy the poor boy might faint again.

It came down to the idea that Harry would not be stable doing anything and it would almost definitely end up with him passing out so Snape crouched down and spoke over the storm.

“Harry, I’m going to need you to trust me for a moment. I’m going to do something that you most likely won’t understand but I will explain it later. Ok?”

Harry just stared and nodded. Something told Snape that he wasn’t going to be ok with it. But he grabbed Harry’s hand, brought out his wand and uttered the spell.

The storm twisted and the wind whipped around them but slowly all those things added and they were falling away from the Rock on the Hit. Away from the Dursleys and towards the only place that Snap could imagine to keep Harry calm.

Spinners End.