I don't own Harry Potter. Duh!

The night before the Hogwarts Express was set to show up at Platform 9 3/4, the order and the returning students were sitting around the dinner table at Grimmauld place. Friendly chatter bounced around the room, except from a few gloomy individuals. Harry Potter scowled at the headmaster. "Harry, you need to stop glaring at him."

"Hermione, he's been avoiding me since I've arrived."

"He showed up at yo-."

A flash of light burst through the room, and when it dissipated, everybody's eyes swiveled to the shaking form of a small child against the wall. Molly Weasley stood, and quickly moved towards it. "Are you okay?"

Then words were spoken that shook Harry to the core. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to buwn bweakfast."

Harry stood, and walked in a daze towards the little boy. Cautious wand tips aimed at the child. Harry motioned Molly back, and knelt down. "What's your name?"

Green eyes looked at him. "Fweak."

He heard gasps of shock from the back of the room, and he knew it would only get worse if he was right about who this was. "How old are you?"

"Old nuff to clean and cook." He replied, sniffling.

"One more question, and all you'll have to say is yes or no okay?"

The little boy nodded. "Okay."

Harry paused, not wanting to ask it, but knowing that he would have to so they could send the boy back to where he belongs. "Are you Harry Potter?"


Harry was staring out of the window in the sitting room, trying to ignore the mumbling from the people seated around the room, waiting for Madame Pomfrey to come in and tell him how his younger selfs checkout went. He knew how it would go, he looked about four and a half, and that's when he had to start cooking. He knew that-. "Harry? Madame Pomfrey's about to tell us how the-."

Harry just hung his head, upset that everbody would know. The first thing that would be mentioned would be the bruises, the broken ribs, if this was the cause of the lack of memories he had of that age, the burns. "I'm listening Hermione."

"Just like your father, ignoring authority figures." Snape sneered.

Harry just clenched his fists and bit his tongue, knowing that it wouldn't make the situation any better. "Madame Pomfrey, what did you find?" Dumbledore asked her.

Though Harry couldn't see her, he could hear in her voice she was fighting back tears. "I found that the child has two bruised ribs, and one broken one." Harry could feel the weight of dozens of eyes land on his back, as Poppy was no longer able to contain her tears, letting out a sob. "He's covered in bruises under those baggy clothes, and has scars all over his body." Harry closed his eyes, and felt tears slip through the cracks and down his face. Madame Pomfrey started sobbing, "and the poor boy is almost malnourished and dehydrated to the point that his organs were beginning to fail."

"It can't be, it's a lie, he was taken care of at his aunt and uncle's house." Snape said.

Harry heard someone stand up. "Har.. prongslet, tell me that it isn't true."

Harry turned around to look at his godfather, and without saying a word, he lifted his shirt up and over his head, before dropping it on the floor. Even Fred and George, who were tempted to whistle at him for stripping his shirt off, couldn't stop their eyes from traveling over their friend's chest. "How are you able to hide the scars in the dorms?" Minerva asked. "Why didn't I know about this?"

"I've been able to do a full body glamour since the middle of first year." Harry whispered, but in the deathly silence of the room they were all able to hear. "I was told that if anybody found out.. well it wouldn't have been good."

"Why wouldn't you tell us?" Hermione said.

"Because I didn't want you knowing how weak I am." He raised a hand and rubbed it down one of his scars. "Because after years and years of them trying to, they finally made me a freak. I remember what every single one of these scars came from. Getting pushed down stairs, kicked around, burning myself on breakfast. How am I supposed to save anyone?"

Little Harry walked into the room, rubbing his eyes, as if fighting off sleep. He walked up to Harry really slowly, and reached up to touch an old scar. "I have a scar that looks like that."

Harry crouched down. "Harry, can I show you something?"

"What's your name?"

Mind racing, knowing that he couldn't reveal his name to himself from the past, his eyes landed on Sirius, and he grinned. "Neville, Neville Longbottom."

"What did you want to show me Neville?"

"Stand back a little bit." He said, causing the little boy to stand back.

Waving his hands together as if he were making a snowball, Harry concentrated his magic on the space between. A blue light started to shine between them, spurts darting out to arc around his fingers. And then the light stopped, and Harry pulled his top hand away, holding a small glass orb in his hand. Handing it to the little boy, Harry said, "touch it with your finger and say Appeareo." The room had gone silent from the moment that the light started, and they held their breaths now.

The little boy looked from eyes just like his to the little glass orb that he held in his hands. "What will it do Neville?"

"Something amazing.. something magical."

Lil' Harry pressed a finger against the orb. "Appeareo!" He whispered, causing the orb to explode in a puff of smoke and leave behind a stuffed snake. The little boy hugged it tightly to his chest. "Thank you, I never had a stuffed aminal before."

When the boy yawned again, Harry ruffled the boys hair again, and turned him towards the door. "Go back to bed sleepy head."

The little boy looked up at him with sad eyes. "Will you tuck me in?"

Harry nodded, and picked the boy up, carrying him towards the room they had put him in. "Do you want to hear a story?" He asked after tucking lil' Harry in.

"Yes please."

Sitting down on the foot of the bed Harry crossed his legs. "Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Harry Potter-."

"Just like me!"

Smiling, Harry replied, "Yes, just like you. Harry Potter was turning eleven years old, but he was sleeping on the cold floor of a stone hut, on a rock in the ocean. Laying under a thin blanket Harry was drawing a birthday cake in the dirt on the ground, watching his birthday draw closer on his cousins watch." He moved to lean against the headboard slowly, "just as Harry was counting down to being eleven, he heard heavy footsteps coming towards the door. He thought he was imagining it, and so he kept counting down. 5, 4, 3, 2, all the way down to one, when BOOM!"

The little boy jumped. "What went boom?"

"Harry didn't know, but he jumped up, and hid behind the fireplace."

The room had been almost silent since the two black haired boys exited the room. When almost simultaneously Severus and Minerva stood and pointed their wands at the headmaster. Severus beat her to the punch with speaking though. "YOU LIED TO ME! WHEN I PROMISED TO KEEP THE BOY SAFE AFTER HE GOT TO HOGWARTS YOU PROMISED TO KEEP HIM SAFE BEFORE HAND."

"Severus, you must un-."

"NO! You did this to me, refusing to let me go anywhere but back to my abusive father, but with how you expect Harry Potter to save the world, you knowingly send him back to a 'home' where he is abused by his so called relatives."

Neither of the two noticed Harry re-entering the room. "I didn't kno-."

"Yes you did." Harry said, making both of them turn to him. "I told you. I told you about the cupboard, and the abuse."

"Potter," Snape started, "Harry, I am so sorry."

Emerald and Black eyes met, and Harry was suddenly moving towards the bane of his school years. And in front of all of the people in the room, Harry's arms wrapped around Severus's neck as their lips met.

"AAAAAHHHHH." Harry yelled, jerking up in bed.

Ginny rolled over next to him, and sat up, grabbing his hand. "What's wrong Hun?"

Harry turned to her in a sleep induced stupor. "Snape kissed me in front of the order. He kissed me."

"Go back to sleep babe."

"But he kissed me."

"Just go to sleep." She said, pushing his shoulders back, and tucking him in.

Mumbling now, Harry pulled her down next to him, he buried his face into her hair. "But he kished me."

Ginny Potter smiled when she felt her husbands breathing slow as he fell back asleep. He has the weirdest dreams sometimes.