Chapter 5

Vernon Dursley was furious. The spoiled little brat he was forced to call his nephew was being his usual insolent self. Can't reach the rubbish. There are dishes to be washed! Either way, he will learn his lesson.

Harry was sitting in his cupboard, fearing the next few minutes. Aunt Petunia simply slapped him and let him go after seeing that he was struggling with the dishes, but Uncle Vernon looked mad. Harry went to his "room" and hoped for the best.

Unfortunately, when Vernon Dursley gets mad, he really gets pissed off and it's hard to calm him down.

"Boy! Come out here!" he yelled.

Harry stepped out of the cupboard, staring at the floor.

"Why didn't you do the dishes?"

"I couldn't reach the sink, sir. It was too high," said the five-year-old Harry.

"GET A CHAIR, THEN!" burst Vernon.

Harry was still staring at the floor.

"That's it. I've had it with you," said Vernon Dursley.

That night, Harry received the worst spanking he had ever gotten.

Harry was drawing in his cupboard when a drunk Uncle Vernon came home to an otherwise empty house.

"What is this ugly little thing? It looks like complete rubbish to me! I always knew you had no talent in you," said Vernon.

Harry said that it was a witch. Vernon didn't seem to like that answer.

Harry spent the next half an hour getting whipped with his uncle's belt.

Severus was experiencing Harry's nightmares firsthand. Harry's dreams were so intense and horrifying for his own mind that his mind projected his dreams to the whole room. Severus was horrified as one dream after another projected itself upon the room and Severus had to stand watching. Harry meanwhile was screaming in the background, as though he was experiencing the pain all over again.

Severus knew that the dream he feared the most was coming up. He did not want to see his own son get raped.

Apparently it wasn't Vernon Dursley who had done it. It was one of Dursley's colleagues, a man named Jim Muckraker. Harry was sobbing as he struggled against Severus who was trying to calm him down. It was impossible.

Severus decided that enough was enough. He grabbed a calming drought and a dreamless-sleep potion and gave them both to his son. After Harry had calmed down, Severus tucked him in and kissed his forehead. Severus decided he would sleep on the sofa that night, just to make sure Harry was safe.

The experience was horrifying. An intense surge of revenge burned through Severus every time his mind played Harry's dream over again. He would talk to Harry about it tomorrow.

When Harry woke up that morning he felt exhausted, as though he had gotten no sleep whatsoever. Last night's nightmares haunted him, but he shook his head and got out of bed. Severus was still asleep on the sofa. He wished he wouldn't have to talk about last night…he hoped he didn't disturb him. Although, now that he thought of it…if Severus was on the sofa instead of in his own room, Harry's nightmares were probably heard throughout the whole manor.

He couldn't believe the trouble he was causing. He had probably woken up his father in the middle of the night because of his stupid nightmares…

And then a flashback of his last nightmare rushed to his head, reminding him of that horrible friend of Uncle Vernon…and he couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't handle the pain, the memories… it was just too much for him.

He went to the kitchen and grabbed a knife, running to the bathroom and locking the door behind him.

I'm not worth the trouble…I can't take this anymore…I'm a burden on everyone…I'm a stupid, worthless brat who doesn't deserve anyone to care about him…

And as these thoughts kept running through his head, he ran the knife over his wrists. It felt good as the blood oozed down his hands. He cut again and again, until he felt dizzy. He was so ready for everything to end, to not feel any pain, to just forget about everything….but then an alarm sounded throughout the house.

Severus awoke with a start. He had set an alarm around the house in case Harry tried to hurt himself, but he did not expect it to go off so soon. He noticed that Harry wasn't in his bed anymore. He ran all around the house trying to locate Harry, when finally he came to a locked bathroom downstairs.

"Alohamora," he whispered. As the door opened, he looked around and saw Harry on the floor, drenched in his own blood. Harry looked at him, with a small frown on his face, and passed out on the floor. Severus caught him just in time.

"Contra Sectumsempra!" Snape said with a tint of fear in his voice, and slowly Harry's wounds stopped bleeding. He bandaged Harry's wrist and carried him back to his bed.

He could understand why Harry had done it. He had been in the same position years ago. But he still wished that Harry would have came to him for help. He then realized that it was too early for Harry to trust him.

He decided that he would ask Harry about his nightmares another day…he had a more serious talk to have with him today.

When Harry woke up Severus was sitting by his bed, staring at him.

"How are you feeling?" Severus asked gently.

"I'm fine…I'm sorry," Harry whispered.

"Why did you do it?"

"I just…I don't know. I needed to."

"Was it because of your nightmares?"

Harry nodded, raising his knees up to his head and curling into a ball.

"Please, Harry, if you ever have thoughts of doing this again, come to me. I can help you."

Harry nodded again, but Severus had a feeling that he did not actually intend to do so.

"Harry, I need to talk…" Severus started, but then stopped mid-sentence. His left arm burned, and he knew exactly why.