A New Place to Stay Chapter 13 - Harry Potter

 In the quiet after the Dementor attack, Prince Manor turns into a recovery ward. Madam Pomfrey binds ribs and plans potions while Severus Snape steadies a shaking Harry with melted chocolate and rare gentleness. In the sitting room, Dumbledore and Remus debate a darker truth: the Ministry may have sent Dementors, and Dolores Umbridge is coming to Hogwarts. When the visitors leave, Snape brews fresh pain relief, vows protection, and begins to see the boy he misjudged. A tense, character-first guardianship chapter with healing detail, political stakes, and fragile trust. 

Transcript

**Chapter 13: Concern and Worries**

Severus felt a sense of relief that he had already given Harry the potion to remove the scars on his back. As he helped prop the boy up and watched Poppy use a spell to wrap bandages around his torso, he understood that Harry wouldn’t want anyone else to know about his injuries.

He knew that all too well from his own experiences. Who would have thought that he and Harry Potter would share anything in common—especially something like this?

They would always share a bond: Lily, the vivacious red-haired woman they both loved. It was unfortunate that Harry didn’t remember his mother; she would have made the best mom anyone could wish for—protective, loving, smart, and beautiful.

Everything a fourteen-year-old could dream of in a mother. But then again, if Lily had been around, Harry wouldn’t have done half the things he had; he simply wouldn’t have dared.

While she wouldn’t have resorted to corporal punishment, she certainly would have raised a ruckus that would have made him worry, without a doubt. Lily had been a fiery hellcat and a staunch defender of anyone she loved.

“How do you feel now, Harry?” Poppy asked once he was resting back on the pillows. She received no answer from the brown-haired youth; the only indication of life was the loud, shuddering breaths he took.

“Do you think you could eat some chocolate?” Severus demanded in his usual no-nonsense tone. Harry was tempted to stay silent.

He was in agony despite the numbing charm. He hadn’t felt this sore since before his third year.

Even then, he had enough time to heal before returning to Hogwarts and was able to enjoy the welcoming feast, unlike the two previous years. He didn’t want to speak; it hurt as if an invisible fire was spreading throughout his chest, invading his lungs.

He nodded slowly, careful not to cause himself any more pain than he was already experiencing. “Open,” Severus instructed, watching him closely.

Harry was slow to comply, which didn’t surprise Severus at all. Severus could see that the boy was clearly in agony.

He had no doubt that the emotional pain was likely worse, especially considering what Harry had learned that afternoon. He shuddered inwardly at the thought of hearing Lily's last moments replaying in his mind.

Harry didn't deserve that; he didn't deserve much of what had happened to him. Severus vowed once again to pay closer attention to the young man and to ensure that no unnecessary burdens were placed on his shoulders.

He gently placed the chocolate into Harry's open mouth and cast a spell to make it melt. Almost immediately, he noticed the trembling begin to ease.

"Why the hell did the Dementors come after Harry?" Remus demanded, unable to keep silent any longer. Poppy continued to fuss over Harry while Severus turned his attention to the conversation, grabbing a large black mug of hot chocolate, ignoring the small marshmallows floating on top.

He didn't typically eat things like that, but he always kept them on hand just in case. Dumbledore settled into one of Severus's chairs, and Severus felt a surge of irritation.

Remus followed suit, and Severus frowned angrily; he didn't appreciate people making themselves at home in his house. He had to admit he hadn't been the best host, but then again, it probably had something to do with the fact that he had just faced a fate worse than death—the Dementors' kiss.

"That's a good question," Dumbledore said, his voice steady despite the fury bubbling inside him. "Dementors do not leave Azkaban, and they are definitely still under the control of the Ministry.

Voldemort hasn't even attempted to gain their allegiance; it's clearly still too soon. The only way I can think of is if someone directly told them to kiss him." 

The anger in Dumbledore's voice deepened.

"The Ministry? Fudge?"

“Fudge sent them after him?

But why?” Remus gasped, his voice filled with dismay. Despite his own turmoil, Harry was listening intently to the conversation, unconsciously practicing meditation techniques.

It was the same method he had used back at Privet Drive as a young boy. It helped him push the pain to the background, creating a white noise that dulled his senses.

He hovered in a space between consciousness and unconsciousness, focusing on every word. “Haven’t you been reading the paper?” Severus snarled, rolling his eyes in irritation.

Why did Lupin always have to ask such foolish questions? His own fury simmered, not just because they had nearly killed Harry, but because they had actually sent Dementors after a fourteen-year-old boy.

Harry’s heart clenched painfully. Deep down, he sensed that Snape’s anger was on his behalf.

He had once thought Snape would relish reading the lies printed about him. After all, Snape never stopped reading the Daily Prophet, so it seemed a fair assumption.

He pushed aside the gratitude that threatened to surface; he couldn’t allow himself to get attached to Snape. Snape didn’t like him—he was merely tolerating him because of Dumbledore.

Yet, the flicker of hope refused to fade, keeping him engaged in the conversation. “Severus is correct; the Ministry is afraid, and Fudge will use any means to keep Harry quiet,” Dumbledore admitted sadly.

“Why do I get the feeling that’s the only thing I know about?” Severus asked, casting a glance at Dumbledore. He struggled to suppress the glare on his face, wanting nothing more than to snarl at the old fool.

He couldn’t let Dumbledore discover his true feelings; he would rather go down to the dungeon and deal with the Dursleys in rat form than let that happen. “He is interfering at Hogwarts; he has hired a Defense teacher: Dolores Umbridge,” Dumbledore replied grimly.

Remus gasped in shock, unable to believe his ears. “That vicious cow?”

Werewolves were more alienated than ever.

She was the nastiest person Remus had ever encountered. He wouldn't be surprised if she had joined the Death Eaters or was considering it; she was truly awful.

And Fudge wanted her to teach children? He was mad—utterly barmy!

"Is he mad?" Remus practically shrieked, causing Harry to jolt, which made him hiss in pain. He couldn’t help himself; the loud voice combined with his injuries only made things worse.

He tried to curl in on himself, attempting to protect his wounds, but ended up in agony anyway. Then he felt a strong, calloused hand comforting him with a few gentle pats on his shoulder before it settled in place, offering the silent comfort he desperately needed.

He wasn’t foolish; he knew who it was. Remus's voice had been too far away for it to be him.

Dumbledore’s hands were, for lack of a better term, chubbier, and Poppy’s were thin and bony, like a woman's. This hand was long, calloused, and thin, with a distinct smell of potion ingredients.

Severus hadn’t been able to resist; he had to try to comfort the boy. It was going to be a long day for him.

Perhaps the boy should be grateful they were wizards and could heal more quickly. Then again, if they were Muggles, he wouldn’t be in danger from Dementors...

or Voldemort, for that matter. Thankfully, Dumbledore's attention was fixed on Lupin.

Eventually, he had to pull back to avoid having his visitors gawking at him like idiots. They had more important matters to address.

"He's afraid," Dumbledore corrected sadly. "They do not want Voldemort to be back, and they will use any means necessary to maintain the pretense that he has not returned." 

"That includes murder," Severus sneered, disgust evident on his face.

"Unfortunately. I wonder, though, why Harry didn't use magic," Dumbledore said, a frown creasing his features.

As Remus watched Dumbledore, he noticed a hint of frustration on the older man's face. Did Dumbledore want the boy to be expelled?

Or was he hoping for a spectacle in the Ministry, with Harry as the main attraction? Remus doubted Dumbledore would risk Harry by sending the Dementors, not that he had the authority to do so.

Only Fudge and a select few others could pull strings like that. The thought sent a chill through him.

Harry was already in danger from Voldemort, and now the Ministry posed a threat as well. It was a dismal situation.

It was going to be a long year, and he needed to prepare the boy for what lay ahead before he returned to Hogwarts. “Why would he need to?

He was supposed to be safe here,” Remus interjected sharply, stepping in to answer Severus’s unspoken question. A cold, slimy dread had settled into Severus's bones at the realization of what he had allowed.

Harry had been without a wand. No one knew about the magical concealing spells embedded in the wards of Prince Manor; magic could be performed there without anyone being the wiser.

The thought of leaving the child unprotected sent a deep chill through his heart. He had taken Harry’s wand—something even his own father had never done to him.

“Why didn’t the wards keep them out?” Poppy asked, finally breaking her silence. She was still displeased with Dumbledore and was determined to let him know it.

Once they returned to Hogwarts, she intended to ensure he never interfered with her work again, or she would consider leaving. It was an empty threat, but Dumbledore was unaware of that; she had no intention of abandoning the children at Hogwarts during such dark times.

"Wards cannot keep Dementors at bay; they can breach any barrier they need to," Dumbledore replied, a mixture of amusement and seriousness in his tone. "You didn’t think I had taken down the wards protecting Hogwarts from dark creatures, did you?"

“I see,” Poppy said, swallowing hard.

She recalled the times when Harry... Remus recalled how Harry had been in the hospital wing during his third year, thanks to those dreadful creatures.

"Apart from the Fidelius Charm, they would have gotten to Sirius by now," he pointed out, his amber eyes reflecting his seriousness. "How far will Fudge and Umbridge go?" Severus asked gravely.

"As far as it takes," Dumbledore replied, his usual twinkle absent. He shared the concern about Hogwarts being invaded by Ministry workers just as much as anyone else did.

"I should go to Sirius. He’s bound to be deranged by now," Remus said, suddenly remembering his old friend.

Being cooped up in Grimmauld Place was bad enough, but his worry for his godson might just push him over the edge. "I must return to Hogwarts as well.

I'm afraid I've left Minerva filling in temporarily, and she already has enough on her plate with her own duties," Dumbledore added. Neither man so much as said goodbye to the boy on the couch.

Severus frowned at that. They claimed to care about Harry, yet their actions suggested otherwise.

Finding out he was fine and then just leaving wasn’t exactly what one did when they cared. Severus wouldn’t have done that, not in a million years, neither to Harry nor Draco.

He hadn’t even liked Harry until a week ago. With a scowl, he watched them walk away.

"I won’t get in your way, Severus, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to leave a list of potions Harry will need," Poppy said quietly. She had witnessed Severus's earlier actions, which had surprised her deeply.

He had comforted Harry—something she never would have expected from him, even under threat of the Cruciatus Curse. She was quite fond of Harry; he was different with her in the hospital wing than he was with others.

He was quieter, less boisterous, and always spoke politely, even while trying to persuade her to let him out early. "Of course, Poppy, but you do remember I almost passed my mastery in Mediwizardry?" Severus reminded her dryly.

Poppy said, "Of course, Severus, but that was a long time ago." She replied with a hint of sass, "You’ve stuck to your potions and haven’t practiced mediwizardry in ages; you’re probably a little rusty." 

"Very well," Severus conceded, deciding to let her have her way. It was probably for the best; he knew he wasn’t exactly qualified.

"But I will supply the potions; they are fresher than yours." 

Poppy nodded and began scribbling notes on a piece of parchment. She had expected nothing less from a Potions Master.

"He’ll be able to have a pain reliever in exactly seven hours. The Skele-Gro will have made its way through his bloodstream by then.

I wish they would create a pain reliever that works alongside it. It’s horrible watching children suffer through it.

Harry has personal experience; he had to regrow every single bone in his arm in second year because of that fool Lockhart." Poppy’s voice dripped with disdain as she mentioned the fraud. She was one of many who had been disgusted by him; Minerva and the male teachers felt the same way, while the other women seemed enamored with the revolting fake, which made Severus feel nauseous.

"You left him alone all night?" Severus asked, surprised. Poppy had never left his side when he was a patient in her hospital wing.

"I couldn't stay awake. I was utterly exhausted and ill, Severus.

But it didn’t matter; I had to get up anyway. It was the night Colin Creevey was petrified trying to come in and see Harry," she explained.

"Ah, I see," Severus replied smoothly. "Is it okay if I Floo-call you later, Severus?

I want to know he’s going to be all right," Poppy requested, her gaze fixed on Harry with concern. "Of course," Severus said.

He had a feeling she would be the only one... then again, neither Black nor Lupin knew his Floo address.

Very few did; only Dumbledore, the Malfoys, and Poppy. Minerva was on his mind, as he silently wondered if they would have reached out had they known the situation.

Given the way Lupin and Dumbledore had acted just ten minutes ago, he had his doubts. “Take care, Severus.

I’ll check on you later. Harry, just rest and get well again,” Poppy said softly, brushing back Harry's hair before she disappeared through the Floo network, just like Dumbledore and Lupin had.

“Well, Potter, it looks like it’s just you and me again,” Severus said simply. “Can I get you anything?

Are you still cold?”

Exhausted, Harry opened his pain-filled green eyes and stared up at Snape, shaking his head tiredly. Despite the presence of everyone around him, he suddenly felt more alone than ever.

Why did these things keep happening to him? He shuddered, recalling his mother’s desperate pleas.

Why hadn’t she just stepped aside and let Voldemort have him? She might have survived that night.

“Excuse me?” Severus asked, his voice sharp and his face pale, making his onyx eyes appear even darker. Harry blinked in confusion, his glazed-over green eyes struggling to focus on Snape.

“You just said, ‘Why hadn’t she stepped aside, let him have you, and she might have survived.’ Do you think so little of your mother, Potter?” Severus demanded, concealing the true impact of Harry’s words. The Dark Lord had actually told Lily to move aside?

He had tried, albeit half-heartedly, to keep his promise and ensure her safety. That had been all he had asked for when he joined the Death Eaters: that Lily be left alone in the war.

“No,” Harry rasped defensively, wincing as pain shot through him. “Don’t speak; just try to get some rest, Potter,” Severus advised, his gaze fixed intently on the fourteen-year-old.

He wondered if the boy blamed him; he would have no trouble assigning blame if their situations were reversed. Severus Snape knew he would have to give Harry back his wand, and he shuddered at the thought of a repeat performance.

Harry grumbled about constantly being called "Potter," joking that he might as well change his name to Potter Potter, since no one else ever used his given name except for his two best friends. But then again, "Potter" was certainly better than "Freak" or "Boy," or any of the other derogatory names his despicable uncle, aunt, and cousin could conjure up.

Severus remained silent, but he heard Harry's frustration. He wondered why Harry cared so much about being addressed by his given name.

It was intriguing. A new coldness washed over him as he recalled the letter—the temperature drops in Surrey.

They had been warned; the Dementors had shown up at Privet Drive first. It made sense if that was where Fudge had sent them.

But Harry hadn’t been there, so he had sent them elsewhere. Oh, how he could kill Fudge for what he was doing.

Knowing Harry's temper, he worried that the boy would only make things worse for himself. Hopefully, he would have perfected his Occlumency by the time Hogwarts started back up again.

That would help immensely with his temper, without a doubt. With a sigh, Severus transfigured a stretcher and carried Harry up the stairs to his room, leaving him there to get comfortable.

Once that was done, he descended to the dungeons and began brewing every potion Poppy wanted Harry to take. He was reluctant to use older potions, as they weren’t as potent as fresh ones.

He brewed the pain reliever first; it was the one Harry would need the most. He wasn’t good at comforting people, or else he would have stayed with Harry.

It had been so long since he had comforted anyone, and he wasn’t sure how his attempts would be received—rightly so, considering how he had made the boy's life a living hell, all under the assumption that Harry was spoiled. How wrong he had been.

Instead, he had regretfully added to the child's misery. The thought made him feel ashamed, a feeling that was new and unsettling, especially when it came to Harry Potter.