Life On Mute

Chapter 3 Broken

“Potter.” The name was said in a low, silky voice the moment the classroom door swung shut on the last students to leave. The Weasley boy and Granger had foolishly stayed behind, rooted to their seats in support of the quiet boy, making quite the show of defending their fellow Gryffindor. Snape had delighted in taking another twenty points and assigning two nights detention with Filtch the Caretaker before the two could be convinced to attend their next class. Foolish Gryffindors.

Snape leaned slightly back in his chair, studying the boy’s bowed head and slumped shoulders. The boy looked almost defeated.

Perhaps he had been a little too cruel, but it had to be done. The boy was developing an attachment to him that was so easily read behind those large emerald eyes. He could read just about everything from the boy, including the fact the boy was hiding his disability.

Though why the boy was developing such feelings for him was beyond him. He’d done nothing to encourage such behavior, and he was going to snip it in the bud before it grew to something worse.

“Potter,” Snape growled, pushing from his seat to stand.

Still, Harry didn’t look up.

“Potter! You will look at me when I talk to you!” he barked, his patience with the boy gone.

Harry’s head shot up, obviously started. Snape frowned at that. Perhaps the boy was still expecting some misconstrued affection from him? Snape sighed. There was time enough to put the boy in his proper place. “Gather your things and follow me,” he said, striding towards the door.

Harry scrambled to pull his things together, his insides twisting as he followed the man. Neither said a word as Snape lead Harry through the halls and up flights of stairs, and Harry wondered just what the Professor had planed for him. This new Snape was scary and cruel, and he had no idea what the man might do.

He struggled to keep up with the mans large strides, and he was panting by the time Snape finally turned towards a set of double doors.

Snape banged the doors open, noting the slight flinch the act provoked from the boy as he allowed his eyes to scan the white room.

“Sit,” he said simply, pointing to one of the many beds lining the walls.

Harry blinked at him for a moment before following his finger and climbing up on a bed, dropping his bag at the foot of it.

Snape nodded his approval and strode over to another door, knocking once before entering.

Harry looked around the room, realizing that he must be in the schools infirmary. That got Harry worrying. Just why, exactly, had Snape brought him here?

He had expected, at the very least, being sent to the Headmasters office and was fully prepared to be seeing the Dursley’s soon. He hadn’t expected being sent to the infirmary.

What were they going to do to him?

He had never been to a hospital before, but he had heard the Dursley’s talk about them before. Doctors made you wear funny gowns that didn't close in the back and checked to make sure you were all right. Would they make him wear something like that? If they did, they’d see his scars and battered back. The Dursley’s had always told him never to let anyone see them, that people would only think him a worse freak because of them. Harry didn’t want that. But then, Snape already hated him. That much was clear.

Harry thought back yet again to his day in Diagon Alley with the Professor. Was he like that then? Had he just never realized it? He suppose he was. Snape had sneered just about the whole time, but was it because of him or the crowds of people? He didn’t know. He was still too hurt by the fact that the Professor wasn’t who he thought he was.

Finally, Snape emerged from behind the door, bringing with him two other people, the Headmaster and a plump, graying woman who smiled kindly at him.

Harry stared in alarm at the Headmaster and felt his stomach plummet to his feet. What was going on?

The woman bustled over to him, drawing her wand from the apron around her waist. “Hello Mr. Potter, I’m Madam Pomfrey, the schools medi-witch,” she said, her voice clear and radiating warmth. “I’m just going to cast a few spells to see what’s going on, alright? There’s nothing to worry about, you wont feel a thing.’

Harry worried his bottom lip between his teeth, feeling his heart pounding beneath his chest and glanced pleadingly at Snape who sneered in response. He looked to the Headmaster, hoping for some sort of help, but the old man just smiled encouragingly at him. Harry swallowed thickly and braced himself, unsure of what to expect as Madam Pomfrey started mumbling to herself.

Light left her wand and Harry tensed even more as he was enveloped in its glow. Different hues settled over his body, glimmering faintly before vanishing in no particular pattern.

Madam Pomfrey frowned and more spells were aimed at him, each one taking longer than the first. The Headmaster and Professor stayed back while the midi-witch cast her spells and Harry sighed in relief when she finally pocketed her wand fifteen minutes later.

She reached over to the bedside cabinet and plucked a quill and parchment that had apparently recorded everything for her.

“Well,” she finally said as she reached the last page. Her eyes were glistening when she looked up and she pulled a long breath before continuing. “The hearing should be an easy fix, but I can find nothing wrong with Mr. Potter’s vocal cords or his brain pathways. There is evidence of several concussions, but they are not the reason for his muteness.”

“His hearing, Madam Pomfrey?” Albus asked as he finally came forward to stand by the bed Harry sat on. He put a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder and squeezed slightly, giving the boy a quick smile before turning his attention back to the medi-witch.

Snape stayed by the doors, his arms folded in front of him as he listened stoically to the conversation.

The medi-witch nodded. “It would seem Mr. Potter has a slight hearing problem. A recent development if I’m correct,” she said the last to Harry, raising her voice just a tad for him to understand her better.

Harry nodded. He noticed his hearing going out on him when he was almost nine. Each beating or cuff to the head made it that much worse, but he never thought much on it though - it helped block out the hurtful things the Dursley’s always said to him.

“Albus, the hearing isn’t the worse of it,” Poppy said a little more quietly.

“Oh?”

For a moment it looked as though the witch was about to cry, but she reigned herself in. “Mr. Potter’s got several broken bones that have never healed correctly. His legs, arms, ribs... a lot of them are recent, some, several years old.” She turned back to the boy and smiled softly. “Mr. Potter, would you please remove your shirt?”

Harry’s eyes widen and he looked at the three adults in panic. They couldn’t see his body, they couldn’t. It was bad enough Snape hated him already, but for the man to think him even worse? He didn’t want that. He shook his head wildly and struggled to get off the bed, startling the Headmaster and medi-witch by his violent reaction to the request.

He made it passed the bewildered witch, ducking away from their reach as they tried to placate him. Immediately Snape was by his side and for a moment, Harry thought he was going to help him.

“Mr. Potter, stop this foolishness at once!” he snapped.

Harry looked at him with pained eyes and shook his head again, continuing to struggle away from the three adults.

Snape growled and hauled the boy back onto the bed, gripping the boy’s shoulder tightly to prevent him from trying to take off again. “You will do as you're told, or I shall do it for you!” he threatened, smirking as the boy’s eyes widened impossibly.

“Now Severus, there’s no need to be harsh with the boy,” Dumbledore reprimanded, taking up his spot by the boy’s bed once again.

Harry was shaking like a leaf, the tears threatening to spill again.

“Really! If you’re going to behave like that, you might as well leave. I’ll not have you scaring my patients!” Poppy glared.

Snape looked between the two and back to the boy whom he still gripped by the shoulders. He could feel the trembling beneath his fingers and he immediately let the boy go. He straightened and smoothed his robes, stepping away from the boy so Poppy could deal with him.

“Thank you.” Poppy said tersely before turning warmer eyes back to the boy. “Harry dear, I promise nothing bad will happen to you, but I need you to remove your shirt, alright.”

Harry just shook his head again, a few tears trailing down his face.

Pomfrey lifted her wand again and summoned a vial to her. “Here,” she said gently as she removed the cork, “this should help. It’ll calm you down.”

Harry took the bottle hesitantly, looking warily at the contents. It didn’t smell much good.

“Go on,” she encouraged when he looked back up at her and glanced at the other two men. Taking a deep breath, Harry brought the vial to his lips and drank down the contents. The medi-witched laughed softly when he made a face at the taste and Harry gave a very weak smile in return.

The potion was already giving its desired affects, his body suddenly feeling relaxed and his frazzled emotions calmed. Harry gave a big yawn as his lids grew heavy. He was suddenly very tired.

“Oh dear. The poor boy must’ve been exhausted for this to affect him this much,” the medi-witch said softly. “Harry, dear, I need you to remove your shirt. Then you can lay back and take a nap, what say you to that? Hmm?” she smiled.

Harry blinked at her and rubbed his eyes with his fists, much like a sleepy toddler.

“Come on, arms up,” Poppy instructed.

Harry complied, much too tired to argue anymore.

Poppy pulled his shirt up and off and helped him scoot back so he could lay with his head on the pillow. He sighed into the pillow, feeling more relaxed than he ever felt and fell right off to sleep.

“Poor boy,” Poppy murmured as she stroked the wild locks from the boy’s forehead. Gently, she coaxed the sleeping boy to his side and ran her fingers down his back before gesturing for the other two to join her by her side.

“Merlin,” Snape breathed before he could stop himself. The boy’s back was littered with scars and fading bruises and his shoulders held finger marks where he had gripped him in his attempt to hold the boy still. He hadn’t realized he had hurt him. The boy was also skin and bones. He could easily see each notch of the boys spinal cord.

“Albus, the boy has clearly been abused. It isn’t a wonder the boy’s mute. He may never speak, and if he ever does, it’ll only be when he finally feels safe and secure.”

Albus sighed and sat heavily on the bed behind him. “I’m afraid I’ve made a terrible decision placing Harry with the Dursley’s,” he said gravely. “I pray the boy will forgive me that.”

He looked up at the medi-witch. “How long will it take for you to heal him?”

Poppy pursed her lips and scanned the parchment. “I’ll need to re-break his bones to heal them properly. It’ll be a painful process and he’ll be cooped up in the infirmary for a week each time. I’m afraid there’s not much to be done about his broken ribs except bandage him up tight and hope they’ll heal right; they’ve been broken so many times.

“He’ll need to go on a nutrition diet, foods with plenty of calcium, proteins and vitamins.

“His hearing should be an easy fix, as I said before, but his equilibrium will be off for a while,” Poppy sighed. “It’ll take me most of the school year to do all this Albus. He’ll need time to recoup before each faze. It’ll put him in too much pain to do all this at once, and that’s something he really doesn’t need.”

“I understand, Madam Pomfrey. I’m sure Harry’s housemates wont mind bringing his school work and taking notes for him while he’s here.” He stood and patted the sleeping boy on the shoulder. “I’ll call a meeting tonight and inform the others of what’s going on. We’ll also need to find a new guardian to watch over Harry during the summer hols, but we’ll not worry about that just yet. Just make him better, Poppy.” Smiling sadly at the sleeping boy, Albus patted his shoulder once more before leaving Poppy to her work.

“How bad is Mr. Potter’s hearing?” Snape asked after a moment of silence, moving over to the head of the bed.

Poppy turned to Snape and studied him for a moment before answering. “Pretty bad. He can hear anything above normal levels, but if there’s a lot of noise going on, I’d imagine it’d be quite difficult for him to understand anything at all.”

Snape nodded and before he realized what he was doing, he ran his fingers though the boy’s hair, brushing a stay strand from his face. He snatched his hand back when the boy gave a soft sigh of content, curling up around the pillow. He stared for a moment, assimilating the information with what he already knew.

No wonder the boy had attached himself to him, he was the only one to get him away from his “family”.

He drew himself up straight, mentally reinforcing his mask.

“I expect Potter to keep a passing grade in my class,” he said tersely. “Though I fear he’ll be as abysmal as the rest.”

“I don’t think that should be a problem, Severus, as long as he has his work to do while he’s here,” Pomfrey answered.

“We shall see,” Snape sneered, turning in a billow of robes and striding out of the infirmary.

Poppy smiled and shook her head as the double doors swung closed behind the Potions Master and set about healing Harry.

TBC

A/N: Sorry about the long wait. Life's been crazy busy for me and I just couldn't find enough time to sit down and write. I hope that this chap answered some of your questions though and I hope you'll all review and let me know what you think. Until next time ~vampchic