So this was a little story plot thats been dancing around in my head. I decided to give it a try. :)

Good!Slytherins, Goodish!Voldemort, BAD!Dumbledore, Severitus, May have Character bashing, powerful Harry, No slash!, warning: abuse, scences of torture

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I only own plot and any OC characters.

Now on to the story!

The blinding pain was on the front of his mind when he limped out of the office. The young black-haired man glanced around the dark hall warily, before continuing on his way. The searing pain from his back was agonizing, but he had become used to the torture. For his entire life it had been all he knew. Running a hand through his sweaty black hair, he revealed his lightning-bolt scar that had sent him on the course of all this anguish and trials.

Biting back his bitter thoughts, Harry Potter trudged down the halls of Hogwarts. There was only an hour until curfew and no one was out and about. This made Harry very relieved, because he didn't feel as if he had the power to keep up his glamour any longer. He had to take a pain relief potion and a strengthener soon before he collapsed, nonetheless keep up appearances.

Harry Potter was always known for having extraordinary luck, but also for having completely awful luck. He figured that fate had to even it out somehow, and that's how it worked out. And, unfortunately, today just happened to be one of those days that was absolutely and irrevocably terrible.

Draco Malfoy and the rest of his Slytherin band were the last people he wanted to see while he was so weak and so likely to fall apart. But they were coming right towards them, laughing and smirking like the bunch of snakes they were. Harry assumed they were plotting the death of some unfortunate Hufflepuff, and glared.

Their laughs came to a clear halt when he came into their sight, and they all stopped in unison, about ten feet away from him.

"Potter," Malfoy sneered, his grey eyes narrowing as he observed his rival. All of the other Slytherins watched the exchange, smirking. "Where are the Weasel and the Know-it-all? I thought you couldn't go five minutes without them holding your hand."

Harry flushed when all the Slytherins laughed, and tried to ignore the jab. "I'm not in the mood, Malfoy," he said angrily, trying to push through, but Malfoy blocked his path easily.

"What's wrong, Scarhead?" he mocked, his eyes hard on Harry's.

"Just leave me alone," Harry hissed. He was having a difficult time trying to block out his pain, and he was beginning to succumb to the overwhelming agony he was feeling. He tried to push through again, but Theodore Nott grabbed his by the arm, causing him to flinch. He pulled out his wand, and was met by many wands being pointed at him.

Harry let out shallow pants, the effort getting to him as he tried to keep up his glamour, and he felt his magic supply began to slip into nothingness. Even if he wanted to, he didn't think he'd be able to use magic to defend himself right now.

The Slytherins were known for being observant and clever. They observed the Boy-Who-Lived who was clearly in a lot of pain.

"What's wrong with you?" Blaise Zabini questioned curiously, lowering his wand.

"Nothing," Harry snapped, glaring daggers at the Italian boy.

"Don't lie, Potter," Malfoy retorted. The blonde eyed Harry with something akin to confusion. "Why do you look like you just wrestled a dragon?"

"None of your bloody business," Harry gasped out, trying to sound threatening. He turned around and was about to take off when Malfoy grabbed him roughly by the arm and spun him against the wall, slamming his injured back. Harry winced, biting back a cry of pain, but the Slytherins all saw through his mask.

Something was very wrong with the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Let go of me, Malfoy," Harry demanded, trying to push him away with the little strength he had left.

Daphne Greengrass stepped next to Malfoy and narrowed her eyes. "What's with you, Potter?" she asked suspiciously.

Harry tried to struggle free, but surrounded by the many Slytherins, he couldn't break free. He felt his resolve start to fade, and he lowered his head, now trying to put all his energy into keeping up the façade.

"If you're going to torture me, then get it over with already," Harry muttered darkly, causing all the Slytherins to flash looks at each other. They had never seen the Gryffindor so submissive before.

"You look like you don't need any more," Pansy Parkinson sneered, but her normally harsh tone softer. There was a hint of worry in her eyes as she observed Harry, but she quickly hid it from him and the others.

"Honestly Potter, we aren't as bad as you make us out to be," Malfoy offered, glaring at him in frustration. "We don't gang up on someone like this. We at least like two or three of you here to torture." At that, Malfoy smirked.

Harry met the blonde's eyes coldly. "Then why do you have me pushed against a wall, ferret?" he hissed, but closed his eyes in pain as he was pushed a little harder against the wall.

The Slytherin went red in the face, and his eyes sparked in fury. "Don't call me that," Malfoy ordered angrily.

Harry didn't answer, but let out irregular breaths as he tried to keep up his glamour. He felt it slipping away slowly, piece by piece.

"You're so stupid, Potter. I don't see how anyone thinks you're special," the blond Slytherin went on ruthlessly. "You're weak, and pathetic, and-"

He broke off when the black-haired Gryffindor fell to the ground, letting out gasps of pain as he felt his mask finally shatter.

"Potter!" All the Slytherins seemed to exclaim in unison.

Malfoy reached out and heaved him up, and was stunned by what he saw. So stunned, that he almost dropped the Gryffindor. All of his friends stared at the so-called Golden Boy in astonishment, shocked by what they saw.

He was covered in bruises and cuts, and he was shaking uncontrollably. Harry was also very thin, and unnaturally pale. To their biggest alarm, he had huge, gaping wounds on his back that were bleeding quite profoundly.

They were all shocked into a stupor, until Daphne Greengrass hesitantly spoke, breaking the silence.

"What happened?" she murmured, her eyes flaring in what could almost be seen as anger.

"I-I fell," Harry lied breathlessly, trying to stay conscious. He felt terror overcome him, and he gasped. He couldn't let them find out! No one was supposed to know.

Blaise Zabini cursed at him.

"Stop bloody lying, Potter," Malfoy hissed. His normally cruel expression was blank with shock. "Who did this?"

"No one," Harry insisted weakly, trying to block out the consuming, flaming hurt he was experiencing. "I fell."

"You didn't bloody fall, Potter!" Malfoy yelled in frustration, causing the injured teenager to flinch in the tight hold.

"Draco, we need to get him to the Hospital Wing," Pansy said, concern lacing her voice. "He's losing a lot of blood."

Malfoy caught her eye, his anger dropping, and nodded.

"No-please-don't-you can't-"

Nott interrupted his desperate words, looking astounded. "For Merlin's sake, Potter," he growled. "If you're not treated soon you're going to die!"

"I'm fine! I don't need your help!" Harry managed to spit out, trying to force himself out of Malfoy's grip.

"Stop this, Potter," Malfoy said, his eyes dark as he observed the so-called Savior plead for them to let him fend on his own and most likely die.

Frantic emerald eyes met grey ones. "I can't go to the Hospital Wing," Harry panted.

The Slytherins all looked at each other, trying to figure out what to do and why the Gryffindor was refusing to go to the Hospital Wing. Sure, they knew he hated it, but no one hated it this much.

"Stun him, Draco," Blaise suggested. "We can take him there by force."

Draco turned and listened, and nodded, considering the idea.

"I'll tell them you did it," Harry threatened weakly, trying to hold his eyes open. "I'll blame you and said you probably were scared I was going to die, and so brought me there. I'll do it, I swear-"

"Shut up, Potter," Daphne demanded, with her eyes wide as she watching the Gryffindor fall into weak blackmail.

"Let's bring him to Snape," Malfoy suggested quietly, his thoughts still on the desperate green eyes. There was something terrible happening to Harry Potter, something he had to find out.

Harry stiffened and tried to argue, but he felt he had no strength left to do so. He stubbornly attempted to keep his eyes open, but he failed and fell into a world of black as he lost consciousness.

When Harry opened his eyes next, he was greeted by the sight of a blurry blue-grey bedroom. He reached automatically to the side of his bed for his glasses, and his hand found them and gripped them. Harry brought them to his face and put them on, satisfied when his eyesight adjusted. He glanced around in confusion, taking in the nice oak desk and bookcase, and the large blue bed he was currently in. He was also pleasantly surprised that his back wasn't killing him like he expected, but he was just generally sore and felt only a sting of pain.

It was only when his brain processed how he got into this room that he started to panic.

Snape! They took him to Severus Snape, who was the meanest professor at Hogwarts, the dungeon bat, the greasy git, and the man who loathed him!

Harry gasped, trying to even out his frantic breathing. He managed to calm it down a little bit until he searched for his wand and found it nowhere. His eyes widened in panic and his heart raced.

He couldn't lose his wand! He'd die! Voldemort would get him, or his death eaters. He was not safe without his wand, especially when Snape of all people was watching him right now.

Speaking of Snape, Harry observed the room warily, expecting the man to jump out from behind the grey curtains, or the nice bookcase. If this was Snape's quarters, the man obviously had better taste then his daily black robes show.

Harry scurried off his bed, glancing at the nightstand again for his wand. He wished that whoever had put his glasses there also had put his wand there, but apparently not. Knowing Draco Malfoy, Harry was sure the Slytherin stole his wand or something.

"Mr. Potter!" A voice he knew all too well snapped at him.

Harry's head snapped up to look into the endless pits of the Potions Professor. Snape was looking just as pleasant as always, with a sneer on his face and glaring at his student.

"And what, do I presume, is your ridiculous reasoning for getting out of the bed without permission?" he drawled, in his silky, dangerous voice. "Even with your lower intelligence level, I find it hard to believe just how daft you can be."

Harry glowered at his professor, ignoring the comment expertly. "Where's my wand?"

Snape raised an eyebrow elegantly, his expression now bored. He slowly extracted something from his robe pockets and Harry was startled to see his wand in the professor's hand.

"That's mine," Harry said, his tone accusing as he glared at the potions master.

"Once again, your intellect astounds me, Potter," he sneered, walking towards the boy smoothly. He stopped five feet short of him, assessing the Gryffindor carefully, before extending him the holly wand.

Harry reached for it desperately, and smiled when he felt the familiar trill of power. He brought the wand to his chest, clutching it tightly, before glancing back up at Snape.

"Why did you have it anyways?" The Boy-Who-Lived demanded with his tone curt and abrupt.

Snape's eyes blazed. "I will not be spoken in such a manner, Mr. Potter," he growled, his black orbs cutting into the emerald ones. "I expect to be addressed with respect."

Harry scowled at Snape, but nodded angrily anyways.

"Sit down, Potter," Snape ordered, folding his arms across his chest.

Harry frowned, annoyed at the man's demand. He could stand if he wanted to! Harry knew it was childish, but honestly he was being treated like one, he might as well as act like one.

"Don't make me ask again," Snape whispered in dangerous tones. "In your condition, you shouldn't be on your feet yet."

Harry's eyes met Snape's quickly, on the alert. Would Snape buy his cover-story? He couldn't find out! Not Snape, not anyone. But there was something about the Potions Professor; he always seemed to know when he was lying. Harry prayed that this wouldn't be the case this time.

Harry averted his eyes from the professor, biting his lip. "I fell down a set of stairs when I was heading back to the commons," he lied quickly, trying to sound as convincing as he could.

There was silence for a moment, and Harry shifted his feet as he waited for the verdict, still not daring to look Snape in the eyes just in case his face expressions gave himself away.

"Sit down, Potter," Snape said quietly, and Harry was so shocked by the teacher's response that he complied.

Harry slowly raised his gaze, and Snape was wearing an unreadable expression. Harry searched his face for any sign of irritation or knowledge of the deception, but the man was carefully blank.

"Why didn't you go to the Hospital Wing, Mr. Potter?" Snape questioned, his eyes suddenly a bit too piercing for Harry's liking, and he quickly looked away.

"I hate it there," Harry said, trying to make it sounds believable. "Madam Pomphrey would never let me go to Quidditch or see my friends and-"

"So you are saying that you ignored a severe injury and suffered a great amount of pain over a pointless game and a few hours away from your fan club?" Snape interrupted smoothly, his eyebrows raised.

Harry grimaced, trying to think of a quick way out of the situation. "It wasn't that bad," Harry protested weakly, his head lowered as he played with his hands resting on his lap.

"You could have died if that injury wasn't treated," the black-haired man informed him coldly, his black eyes observing the obviously lying teen. "And what makes this matter even more puzzling is the fact that you had many other scars on you that were years old. Quite interesting, actually."

The Gryffindor felt every ounce of bravery drain from him, and he began to shake. Snape knew he was lying, and he saw his many other scars. Harry felt his oxygen escape his body, and he began to hyperventilate slightly, but he fought the urge to completely break down.

"Now I want you to tell me the truth Potter," Snape whispered dangerously, leaning in. "And I will know if you're lying," he added, an underlining threat in his statement.

"I am telling you the truth!" Harry protested hotly, his hands clenching in his lap.

Snape was not impressed by the statement. "Liar," he accused cruelly.

Harry's head snapped up, frustration flowing from his expression. Their eyes met for an instant, but that moment was all Snape needed.

"Legilimens," the Slytherin Head of House snapped.

A pressure pushed against Harry's mind as he felt the invasion. Memories flashed by, and Harry could do nothing against the force that was causing this. He had been through this before, and knew he could only sit there helpless as he was mentally raped. He watched the scenes he had already experienced pass by.

He was in charms class, laughing at Ron….. He was playing quidditch with the Gryffindor team…. Sirius Black was offering him the chance to live with him during the summer….. Ginny Weasley was lying motionless on the cold, chamber floor….

And then Harry was met by one of the memories that he had been praying wouldn't come up through the haze of scenes. Harry saw himself in the Headmaster's office, and frantically tried to push away the memory. Snape couldn't be allowed to see it! Harry knew it would be the end to all he'd been working for, all the years of keeping appearances up.

But it was all in vain. Harry couldn't stop the trained legilimens, and he was at the mercy of his Potions Professor.

Harry stared at a twelve-year-old version of himself, on his knees before Albus Dumbledore. The Headmaster pointed his wand at the young student. Harry was frozen as he watched his younger self be sent painful spells raining from cutting curses to bone-breaking curses. The twelve-year-old Gryffindor suffered rather silently, but he let out a cry after a rather deep cut on his side.

The Headmaster immediately stopped, his blue eyes flashing dangerously and the memory Harry looked up in sudden fear.

"I'm so sorry, Headmaster," he began apologizing, his emerald eyes wide as he tried to hide his evident pain. "I didn't mean to be weak!" The boy reached for a dagger from the Headmaster's desk, and stabbed it into his arm. He sliced his arm, and blood poured out, but the second year Gryffindor only looked at Professor Dumbledore for approval.

"Do it again, my boy," Albus encouraged, as if teaching him something completely ordinary.

Harry quickly obeyed, digging in the blade to his wound again.

"Good job, Harry," the Headmaster said cheerfully, his eyes twinkling. "You're parents died because of you after all. It was your fault. We don't want their sacrifice to be in vain, do we?" The professor nodded, smiling at the boy. "Yes, if we keep your training up, you'll be able to defeat Voldemort in no time."

Harry returned the smile, but his emerald eyes were alight with pain.

"Thank you, Headmaster," he murmured, bowing his head submissively.

Harry felt his mind be torn from the memory, and he grabbed his head from the pressuring hurt. He found himself looking into Snape's astonished black eyes.

"What was that?" he gasped, fury etched over his face.

Harry gulped, trying to think of something to explain it. He shook in fear as the man's face got more and more deadly from Harry's obvious desire to cover it up.

"I-it-we-" Harry's attempts were cut short by Snape.

"Don't you dare, Potter," the man threatened, his eyes blazing and he was looking completely livid. "I just saw a memory of our Headmaster torturing his student. This will not be covered up by your lies, Potter!"

Harry flinched back, his emerald eyes haunted and dark. "I need this, sir," he whispered, and this made Snape even more disturbed.

His Slytherins were very right when they brought Harry Potter to his chambers. Something was very, seriously wrong and, like always, the Boy-Who-Lived was right in the middle of it. And the worst part was that now he was in this mess too.

And with those thoughts on his mind, Snape let out the longest chain of swear words he knew.

Hope you liked it and you didn't think it was too gory/crazy. And, as you can tell, Dumbledore will be very bad/manipulative in this story. So don't read if you like Dumbledore. Give me your thoughts on it and what you'd like to see! My outline is still rather rough and I need some advice on pairings and what not. I would appreciate so very much your reviews! Well... Happy reading:)