The prodigy of the night (English translation)

Chapter 1 ~ Visit

The small settlement lay abandoned in the moonlight. Monotonous rows of houses adorned the long street. Only the street lamps provided sparse light and made the person dressed in black blend into the shadows.

A light wind caused the privet hedges to rustle.

The black-haired man had been watching the Dursleys' house for a while now. A strange feeling of unease behind his temples, had made him get up from his cosy armchair with firewhiskey in Spinners End.

And now here he stood, already seemingly endless hours had passed in the cold February night. 'Damn since when did he, Severus Snape act so rashly?' He shifted silently.

Out of nowhere, a soft, comforting warmth surrounded his mind and seemed to caress it. But before Severus knew it, a hellish pain flared up where the lulling touch had been a moment ago.

'What the hell was THAT!!!' Inwardly stunned, the potions master continued to stare at the house. He had actually been talking to himself, which was why he was even more surprised when a young voice answered him in an apologetic tone, 'I'm sorry sir, that was not my intention. Please, you must believe that!" Snape paused.

Just a moment, he did know that voice. 'Potter?! What the devil are you doing in my head?!" growled Hogwarts' own bat, sullen as ever. 'Yes sir, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you Professor. ' Echoed Snape's head again.

'Where are you now Mr.Potter?' his deep, velvety voice monotone, yet secretly concerned. 'In my relatives' basement, sir. But my uncle is with me.' At that moment, the boy mentally and verbally cried out and the already ebbing pain flared up in front of Snape's mental protective walls.

The dark man felt his legs go soft. Severus went to his knees and was writhing on the floor not a second later.

A suppressed gasp left his lips with difficulty. Still slightly bent, the Potions Master looked towards the Dursley residence.

Moments later, his vision blurred and he felt a pull. His vision cleared and he looked back across from a Muggle who was more befitting of the name whale.

The half-blood prince heard Harry whimpering and pleading for mercy, then he knew: he was in Harry's sight. But how was that possible? After all, Severus was the only born Occlumencian still alive. Even Dumbledore or the Dark Lord hadn't managed what the Potter brat was presenting him with here.

Snape saw Vernon lunge and no sooner had the blow hit him than the teacher pulled himself up out of the spectacle. He gritted his teeth and now got fully to his feet. During this 'trip' he had gone down again. With quick steps he was at the front door. "Harry I'll get you out of there" he promised himself and with a whispered "Alohomora" he shot into the building.

Ignoring Petunia who shouted at him, the potions master searched for the cellar entrance, found it a little later and took a few steps back. The following "Bombarda!" tore the heavy metal door off its hinges.

He had not even been able to guess what was in front of him. In a corner of the cellar, he could make out a crouching figure in the pale light. After a longer look, it turned out to be the man wearing glasses. Standing diagonally in front of Harry was the fat Muggle from live memory. Severus had been able to meet him as Vernon Dursley. The latter had turned his red face into an ugly grimace of rage.

"What are you scum doing here? I don't tolerate freaks like you on my property! Get out and let me finish what I started!" growled the Dursley. A very bad idea. No one, really NO ONE messed with an angry Severus Snape. Yes, the Potions Master was about to explode. What was that freak of a Muggle thinking talking to HIM like that?!

Snape's famous I'm-staring-you-dead look twitched through a low groan from Harry of Dursley to the 14-year-old. The Quidditch player had tried to sit up a bit. Just as his uncle was about to yell at Lily's son, he found himself tied to the wall. With a quick "Muffliato", he now fell silent too.

Immediately the tutor was with Harry, who had fainted from the pain.

"Oh, Harry, what do you always do?" sighing, Snape lifted the boy bridal style and pressed him to him. Quite automatically, the Potter heir clawed his way into the black robes.

With one last spiteful glance towards Dursley, Severus apparated with his scrawny burden to the front of Spinners End's Apparating Boundary.

As he reached the stone steps to the main gate and it swung open as if by magic, he called out, "Winky!" With a plop, the elf appeared. Her sapphire blue dress fitted the little one perfectly. "What can Winky do for Master Snape?" she asked in a squeaky voice, but when her eyes wandered to Harry, she became quite jittery.

"Winky, please bring me two healing salves, three healing and pain potions and bone wax to my bedchamber. Thank you." asked Severus kindly. With a slight curtsy and a "But of course sir. Coming right up," the hardworking helper was gone.

Snape heaved a sigh of relief and manoeuvred the peacefully sleeping man to his bedroom on the first floor.

Once upstairs, what he wanted was already waiting for him. With a wave of his hand, fire lit in the older fireplace. The long-haired one gently freed the younger one from his cloak, which he had wrapped around the half-naked teenager before they left.

When he saw the battered body lying on the bed in front of him, he involuntarily had to suppress a horrified gasp.

Numerous bruises, scars and burns were visible as signs of years of abuse. One particularly nasty scar adorned his shoulder and ran along his stomach until it ended at his hip. It was already a little reddish and swollen, both symptoms that it had become infected. This was not good.

While Severus blamed himself and thought the worst of how he had treated him at school, his long fingers coated each and every injury with ointment. Just imagining how Harry had been treated before Hogwarts made his stomach turn. Severus swallowed hard when he reached Harry's back and saw the burnt and scratched words emblazoned on it.

The procedure must have taken a good two hours, after which he lay down exhausted beside the scar-bearer. As soon as his head touched the pillow, he fell asleep.