Hope Has a Place
Part Nine
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House elves did not need cloaks or potions to become invisible. They had their own magics, stronger magics than wizards knew. Magics hidden from the humans long ago, their true form hidden too, for who would suspect the true purpose of short floppy eared creatures that squeaked rather than talked?

Dobby walked silently through the halls of Hogwarts. He saw things. He heard things. He knew things.

He knew that his friend Harry Potter was being hurt. Dobby had taken the oath long ago, that he would never harm a human or other magical creature, except in battle. But wasn't this a battle too? Harry's battle with a werewolf?

Harry was hurting, Dobby saw it more and more each day. The bloodied sheets that Dobby washed, Harry pleading with him not to tell anyone. This Dobby did not understand, why was Harry allowing himself to be hurt over and over again?

There was only one way it would stop, this Dobby knew. The werewolf had to be punished for harming Harry Potter and Dobby would break his oath to do it. The Three-Fold spell had been forbidden millenia ago, but he and others of his race remembered how to perform it. Now he needed only two pureblood wizards to complete the Cirlce of Trust.

He would do it for Harry. For he had taken another oath sixteen years ago.

Protect the boy.

***

It was the final week before the seventh years took their NEWTs and today would be their last Potions class before then. Snape toyed with his breakfast, not feeling at all hungry. For the past few months he had watched Harry whenever he could, at meals and in his classes, but it was as though that boy in the forest had ceased to exist.

He still remembered how Harry tasted, the press of soft lips and the eagerness with Harry had kissed him back. Memories would have to suffice, for he knew he could not allow anything like that to happen again while Harry was still in school. Not that Harry would allow it again. He flinched now whenever Snape was anywhere near him and Snape worried that by kissing him that day he'd made things worse. For they were worse, there was no denying it.

Harry was fading away before their eyes and there was nothing any of them could do about it. The boy was growing paler and thinner with each passing day. Snape couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Harry eat. He'd left the Quidditch team and was not speaking to anyone, becoming more and more withdrawn.

He was still attending his classes, including DADA and Snape wondered how on earth the boy could do it. He had to face the man who raped him every day, knowing that he got away with it. Snape wanted to murder Lupin for what he'd done to Harry. He was a Potions master, it would have been so easy. But he didn't think that him being sent to Azkaban would help Harry much. He didn't know what would.

A couple of times, Snape had suggested gently that he ought to go and see Pomfrey, but Harry had just said that he was fine. He wasn't fine, Snape knew it. The violet shadows under the boy's eyes resembled bruises and except for that his pallor was almost translucent, he was a skeleton with skin.

Harry ate a few mouthfuls of something, egg, Snape thought, before he ran from the hall, his hand over his mouth. Snape had no doubt that he'd gone to throw up. Harry's first lesson was DADA today and then Potions. How could Harry stand it in those classes? To sit there and listen, be taught by someone who raped him? Knowing that Lupin had got away with it and Harry had to take it?

Snape resolved to speak to Harry after Potions, the boy couldn't go on like this. He was making himself ill and Lupin certainly wasn't worth it. But what on earth could he say that would make things better? It seemed that Harry's sanity and well being was hanging by a thread and Snape didn't want to be the one who broke it.

***

Snape taught his first class of the day with his mind elsewhere, specifically on the seventh years' Defence class. How was Harry coping? Did Lupin make snide remarks about what he'd done to Harry, baiting him? Did he try and get Harry alone after lessons? His mind was filled with visions of Lupin attacking Harry and he dismissed the first year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws without even setting homework.

When they left, he waited anxiously by his desk, willing the advanced Potion class to hurry up. Something wasn't right, he could feel it. He had to make sure Harry was okay. They arrived in dribs and drabs, babbling excitedly about something, but he caught one word. Lupin.

He turned to face Weasley and Granger, who entered the room last. The Granger girl was crying and Weasley's hands were around her shoulder, hugging him to her. No Harry.

"Where is Harry...Potter?" he managed to amend. Granger sobbed louder and pressed her face against the boy's neck.

"Haven't you heard, sir?" aksed Weasley, glancing at Malfoy.

Malfoy stood up. "There's been an accident, professor," he said.

Snape swayed a little and grabbed the edge of the nearest desk for support. "Accident?" he repeated. Harry. Harry.

"Tell me what happened," he asked of no-one in particular. The rest of the class gazed eagerly around, ready to hear it all again. No, he would not make Harry's plight something to be gossiped about. "This will be a silent study period, take out your books." He turned to Harry's friends and then to Malfoy. "You three, come with me," and he led them into his office, locking and warding the door behind them.

"Now, what is going on?" he directed the question at Weasley, the girl didn't look as if she'd be coherent anytime soon.

"Professor Lupin collapsed in class, sir. That's when it started."

"Collapsed? What do you mean?"

"Collapsed, sir. He's dead," said Malfoy, sounding not too displeased at the prospect. Well, those two had never been on friendly terms. And Snape looked at Malfoy with new eyes. Had Lupin been doing this to more than one student?

"Dead?" He could hardly conceive of it. That Harry was finally free of the werewolf's clutches. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, sir," said Weasley. "Madam Pomfrey came and took him away. St. Mungo's will be doing an autopsy."

Well, of course they would. Lupin's death was suspicious if nothing else. People in their thirties didn't just drop down dead, even if they were werewolves.

"And did he suffer?" Snape couldn't help asking.

"Oh, yes," said Malfoy with malicious glee, but Snape didn't have long to wonder at him.

"Where's Harry?"

"He freaked out, sir. I've never seen him like that," replied Weasley.

"Freaked out, how?"

"He was screaming and screaming, he just couldn't stop and then he started pulling his hair out. Harry kept banging his head on the desk. We tried to stop him, me and Malfoy, but Harry was so wild that we couldn't keep hold of him. Couldn't even get to our wands to bind him so that he wouldn't hurt himself. He knocked himself out and we couldn't wake him up. I thought at first the screams were just random, you know? But they weren't. He was saying the same thing over and over again. 'Stop, professor, please stop.'" Weasley looked at him, probably wondering if he was the professor Harry was screaming about.

"Is Harry in the infirmary now?"

"Yes, professor. But Madam Pomfrey has sent for a healer from St. Mungo's, Harry's in some sort of coma. They can't wake him up."

Snape's vision whited out and he staggered, then was being held up by the strong arms of Weasley and those of Malfoy, his touch a tad more delicate. "Are you all right, sir?"

"I'm fne, Weasley. I just have to go and see Harry." He didn't care what it sounded like, that he was worried about Harry. He just had to get to the infirmary. He left the dungeons and made his way to the hospital wing, scowling at anyone who crossed his path. He was not in the mood for explanations.

All the beds were empty except for one at the far end of the room. He saw the shadows of two figures walking round the bed, the privacy curtain pulled round making him unable to see little else. Snape marched straight up to the bed and yanked the curtain back. He could see Harry's aura as the two healers cast their wands over him, shades of blue and gold, but edged with a dark tint.

"Severus!" scolded Poppy. "You can't be in here! Harry's being examined!"

But the healer next to her shook his head. "I'm sorry, Madam Pomfrey, but there is nothing more I can do. He is trapped within his own mind. He will not emerge without help, but it is help that I cannot give. I am not a skilled enough Occlumens."

"No, but Severus is," said Poppy, turning back to him.

"What can I do, Poppy? Please, let me help." Snape was desperate, trying to ignore the figure on the bed. Harry was too still, too pale and if it wasn't for the slight rise and fall of his chest, he would be sure that he was already dead. There was a large purple bruise forming on his forehead, probably where he'd hit his head on the desk.

"What can I do?" he asked again.

"Healer Wendell," she indiacted the man to her left. "Was attempting to bring Harry back to consciousness when he discovered something when he was in Harry's mind. A blocked door, with Harry behind it. He tried to get through to coax Harry out, but he couldn't get past the door. He could hear Harry screaming behind it. Somehow Harry is stuck behind that door, whatever it is."

"It's a memory," said Snape sadly. "Harry was obliviated and the memories were behind that black door."

"Do you know what the memories are?" asked Poppy.

"Bad. Bad memories." He could not tell her any more. It would be Harry's secret to tell, if he wished to.

"And Harry's mind is stuck there? With all those bad memories? We can't get him out, Severus. Please, you must try!"

As if he needed persuading.

"I will do my best, Poppy," he said and then cast Legimens on Harry.

Almost before he was aware of it, he was thrust forward into Harry's mind and the corridor of open doors. All doors open save for the black one at the far end. He'd breached it before, surely it wouldn't be that difficult this time? He thought he saw glimpses of Harry as he was now, being raped by Lupin in some of the open doorways, and thought they were nightmares.

When he turned the handle of the black door, nothing happened. The door remained locked against him.

He had to get Harry out of there, but how? A facsimile of his wand was with him, but it was just a spectre, not a real one. He couldn't do magic with it. Snape had never been good at wandless magic, but he remembered that Harry was. Could Harry hear him through the door?

He called out but received no answer.

Harry had told him that when he performed wandless magic, it was usually when his emotions were really strong. Anger, fear, hate. Well Snape was certainly afraid for Harry, he was angry and hated Lupin for what he'd put Harry through. He tried to concentrate on them, almost willing the magic through himself, but the door remained shut.

But he wouldn't give up. The young man he loved was on the other side of that door and Snape was not leaving him there, among some of the worst memories of his young life. He tried to think of something, anything else, when he noticed the door was slightly ajar. What had he done differently? Love, he was thinking about love, how much he loved Harry. The door swung open a few more inches, slower than he would have liked, but eventually the barrier was completely gone.

Just as Snape was about to enter the memory, a Harry shaped projectile launched himself in Snape's arms and he staggered back, holding the weight of the boy to his chest. "Professor! You came! You came!" sobbed Harry to his neck. "You came to save me, I knew you would!"

Snape hugged Harry fiercely, the corridor dissolving around them as he was shoved out of Harry's mind once more.

He was back in the infirmary and Harry was still lying motionless on the bed, but his cheeks looked a little bit pinker, didn't they? Poppy didn't say anything until both she and the healer had examined Harry with their wands, Harry's aura flaring above his still form, shimmers of blue and gold. No black, there was no black in Harry's aura, not anymore.

"Did it work?" asked Snape.

"Oh, Severus, you did it! He's going to be fine. He just needs lots of rest so his body can heal. I've placed him in a healing sleep for now, but he should wake in the morning."

"And he will be all right?" Snape had to make sure.

"Well, physically he will, but mentally, I don't know. We've healed all his wounds that we could, but some scars aren't on the body, are they?"

"What are you talking about? What wounds?" Apart from that bruise on the temple, Harry didn't look injured.

"From what Remus Lupin did to him," said Healer Wendell. "Didn't you know?"

"Well, yes, but that happened years ago!"

"Severus, Healer Wendell was in Harry's mind, he saw it. Lupin had been abusing Harry for the past few months, physically and sexually. He was in a terrible state, covered in bruises and cuts. He had anal tears that hadn't healed, were just ripped open again. But he will be fine now," she assured him. "That poor boy, what he has been through."

Snape just stared at her. The past few months? Lupin had been raping him again? Why hadn't Harry told him?

"Why didn't he tell anyone?" he asked.

"Because Lupin threatened to tell Dumbledore that he saw you and Harry kissing in the forest, intimating that if Dumbledore knew about it, you would be sacked and would have to leave the safety of Hogwarts. Harry didn't know that relationships between teachers and students are not forbidden, as long as the student was of age and it was consensual. He needn't have suffered this at all."

Snape felt ill. Harry had gone through this, endured this because of him? Because Lupin had threatened him. It was Snape's fault.

"Professor, in Harry's mind, as I saw it, Harry is afraid that you will reject him because of what happened. In his head, he thinks it was his fault. I see it a lot in rape victims," said Wendell. "You do know that he's in love with you? A rejection from you at this stage could put his recovery back for months."

"He won't be rejected," said Snape stiffly. How could they even think he would reject Harry? Over this? Over anything? "I'm not leaving him." He glared at both of them and sat down on the chair beside Harry's bed, daring them to disagree.

They didn't.

Part Ten