Nobody Cared Enough !

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 2

1 Sept 1991 - A few hours after the Sorting Feast

Snape sat on one of the more comfortable visitors chairs in the Infirmary. In the bed nearby, Harry slept, a bit fitfully, but he didn't wake to any bad dreams. The potions in him and his day had no doubt exhausted him. Briefly he leaned forward to push a jaggedly trimmed forelock off the child's forehead. Snape then leaned back in his chair. For a moment he studied the child.

Harry Potter was thin. Madame Pomfrey had determined that he was malnourished. His growth had been stunted due to poor diet. A diet that lacked proper nutrition. There were dark circles that almost appeared as smudges of black kohl. His skin was pasty, dry, and upon his face it was almost tight over the cheekbones.

"This is amazing, but it is horrible, Severus. Harry's magic has been repairing his body from various beatings that resulted in the fracturing of most bones; breaking a few others," mused Madame Pomfrey as she sponged the last of the dirt from the child's arm. Poppy did not believe that Cleansing Spells were good for the skin and always insisted upon baths or sponge baths to clean the body.

"How long, Poppy?" asked Severus.

"At least since his magic manifested, Severus." She shook her head as she tucked the blankets up under his chin. "It is remarkable that his magic did not burn itself out. However, despite all that the magic was trying to do, Harry's body is wearing out."

"Can we reverse his condition?" asked the worried wizard.

Poppy nodded. "Certainly we can, Severus." She gently patted the boy's blanket covered shoulder. "The Hogwarts elves will feed him well, and I'll work up a Nutrition Potion you can brew for him."

The Healer had then left them as she returned to her office.

Snape now held the curious drawing that he'd found in Harry's cupboard. The drawing had a fair representation of Hogwarts in the background. It had a few extra towers and a wooden bridge that extended between towers that didn't exist, but anyone familiar with the old castle would know it at once. Flying around its towers were children on brooms, although none of them really had any faces since they were too small. Standing in front of a thatched hut that was surrounded by what some Muggles might think were pumpkins that were too big was Hagrid's hut. In front of this, in garish green and yellow robes and a tall, conical hat was a wizard with a long beard, dancing.

Snape took a moment to scowl at the comic representation of Dumbledore. The façade of the doddering old man was one that the Headmaster wielded to perfection. However, anyone who had ever been at the end of either his temper, his wand, or his power knew how false that was.

"Should have been a Slytherin, you old fox," hissed Snape. He instantly quieted as a small whimper emitted from the sleeping boy. Automatically, he leaned over and rested his hand upon the boy's chest. Harry let out a sigh of contentment and drifted deeper into sleep. He went back to studying the drawing.

Dominating the picture was a very strong character all in black. Harry had taken great care with his black crayon to shape the black of the robes so that they billowed, rather majestically behind the figure and started to curl around the smaller figure that had glasses and messy black hair.

Snape touched his nose, and couldn't stop the soft snort of amusement that escaped. All of his features, his thin mouth, his very dark eyes, his defined cheeks, trademark scowl, and his large, bent nose had been more detailed than he had at first seen. Snape felt his likeness was eerily accurate. As if the child had seen him before drawing him. Snape stroked his finger down the black cloak following one of its incredible billows of cloth. Harry had scrubbed so hard, or perhaps intently, with the black crayon that the cloak had a waxy feel to it.