Author's Note: The sequel to Coming to Care! It picks up at the end of Harry's third year.

-SQ

Disclaimer: The plot is mine, but everything recognizable is Jo's. I think you already knew that.

Chapter One: Remembered

It was the last day of term before the summer holidays, and Harry was sitting glumly on his trunk, which he had just managed to force shut.

"Aw, come on, Harry, cheer up," said Ron, coming out from under his bed with a pair of very dusty socks clutched in his fist.

"I'm fine," said Harry, standing up. "Come on, we'll be late."

Ron threw the socks into his trunk and slammed down the lid and the two boys made their way downstairs, Ron talking nonstop about his plans for the summer holidays.

It was all very well for Ron, thought Harry; he had a large and loving family to go home to when he left Hogwarts for the holidays. But Hogwarts was Harry's home, and all he had to look forward to during the holidays was trying to avoid his horrible relatives as much as possible. This prospect seemed even bleaker after the events of the past few days. For one wonderful hour Harry had thought that he would be getting a new home with his godfather, Sirius Black, who had promised Harry that he could come and live with him as soon as his name was cleared. But this had proved impossible; although Sirius was innocent of the crimes he had been imprisoned for, his name was not cleared, and he had been forced to go into hiding.

There had been another promise too, one that Harry hadn't mentioned Ron and Hermione. Professor Snape, the Hogwarts Potions Master, had promised him that he wouldn't have to go back to his abusive relatives, at least not without "serious intervention."

Harry hadn't quite known what to think about this promise. Professor Snape had been Harry's most hated teacher since he first started at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the feeling had been mutual. Then, during the Christmas holidays, Harry had fallen deathly ill while serving detention with Snape, and the Potions Master had worked tirelessly to save his life, sacrificing his own health in the process. During this time the two had reached an understanding, and Harry had felt more cared for than he ever had by any adult in his life. When Snape had made his promise it had seemed too good to be true...

And, apparently, it was. After that day Snape had made no more mention of Harry's home life or trying to keep him from having to go back to the Dursleys. To say that things had gone back to the way they had been before would be untruthful; no longer was there that cold hatred in Snape's eyes when he looked at Harry, or the unfair punishments doled out for no reason. Harry trusted the man, he knew that much, but it had been foolhardy to think that Snape would actually get him removed from his relatives' custody. In fact, what with all of the to-do about Sirius Black, Harry hadn't thought much about Snape in the recent months, which left him feeling just a bit empty and just a bit guilty.

And that was another thing, Sirius. Snape hated Sirius, Harry's godfather, just as he hated Remus Lupin and had hated Harry's father, James Potter. Harry wasn't sure why exactly, but he knew it dated back to their school days, when the professor had also been friends with Harry's mother. When Snape had shown up in the Shrieking Shack that night he had not seemed like the sympathetic man whom Harry had come to see him as during the time he had spent in Snape's quarters. He had been much more like the cold, sneering Potions Master who used to look at Harry with such hatred in his eyes. Now Harry didn't know what to think. He so wanted to believe that Snape still cared about him, like he had seemed to earlier in the year, but he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that Snape had probably gone back to hating him. And someone who hated him certainly wouldn't try to get him away from the Dursleys for the summer.

Suppressing a sigh, Harry pasted a smile on his face as he and Ron joined Hermione in the common room and the three of them went down to the Great Hall for their last breakfast of term.

*****CTK*****

Receiving a letter from Sirius on the train on the way home, and the effect that the news that his godfather was a convicted murderer had on Uncle Vernon, had the effect of making Harry significantly more cheerful as he waved goodbye to his friends and followed his uncle to the car. This increased cheer lasted until Harry arrived back at Privet Drive.

"Go to your room!" snarled Uncle Vernon, shoving Harry hard in the back. He stumbled and caught himself on the door frame, scraping his palm painfully.

"I said go!" shouted his Uncle, taking a menacing step toward him.

Not knowing how far the threat of writing to Sirius would go to protect him, and not wanting to stick around to find out, Harry made for his room, dragging his trunk behind him.

"Not so fast!" said Uncle Vernon, grabbing his wrist hard enough to bruise. "You leave that here."

"But I need it to do my—"

"Leave it here!" shouted Uncle Vernon, spraying Harry with specks of spittle. "I will not have any—any of that going on inside my house!"

There was nothing Harry could do but watch in helpless anger as Uncle Vernon locked all of his school things away in the cupboard under the stairs, the same cupboard that had been his bedroom until he was eleven years old.

*****CTK*****

Over the next week Harry's spirits continued to plummet. He received no letters, either from Ron inviting him to the Quidditch World Cup like he had said he would, or from Sirius checking up on him. The only thing that kept the Dursleys from carrying out their many threats was the fear of Sirius swooping in and turning them into bats.

They did still try their best to make his life miserable, however.

"Boy!" shrieked Aunt Petunia. "Boy! Why isn't breakfast ready?"

"I'm working on it!" called Harry tiredly. He cut Dudley's grapefruit into quarters. Even the sight of the measly grapefruit was making his stomach grumble terribly, as Uncle Vernon had sent him to bed without dinner the night before, but he knew that he would only get to eat once the Dursleys had finished, provided there was any food left once Dudley had eaten.

Harry laid the grapefruit down on the table as his uncle, aunt, and cousin came into the room.

"Move it, freak," said Dudley, bumping into Harry and shoving him up against the wall. Harry bit back a yelp as his elbow collided with the corner of the stove. Eyes watering, he sat down in his place at the table.

*****CTK*****

The Dursleys were going out for the day so Harry was taking the opportunity to pick the lock on the cupboard under the stairs and retrieve his schoolbooks and homework. It was exceedingly unlucky for him, therefore, that his aunt, uncle, and cousin returned several hours earlier than expected.

Harry heard the key turn in the lock and frantically tried to stuff his things back into the cupboard, but he wasn't quite fast enough. The door slammed, his aunt said something and Dudley replied sulkily, and then footsteps came around the corner.

"BOY!" thundered Uncle Vernon, and Harry was thrown painfully against the stair railing, jarring his spine. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

"I—"

"Don't talk back to me!" shouted Uncle Vernon, his bright purple face just inches from Harry's own.

"I wasn't—I just—"

SMACK!

Uncle Vernon had cracked his large, meaty hand across Harry's cheek.

"Maybe that'll teach you to have some respect," he said, still dangling Harry several inches above the ground.

Harry and his uncle glared at each other, both refusing to break eye contact. Uncle Vernon had just raised his hand to hit Harry again when the doorbell rang.

Uncle Vernon dropped Harry to the floor, where he barely managed to keep his footing.

"Stay there," said Uncle Vernon threateningly. He marched over to the door and yanked it open. "Yes?"

Harry couldn't see who was at the door; Uncle Vernon's bulk was blocking his view. He heard a low, silky murmur that sounded somehow familiar, though he couldn't quite place it.

Then Uncle Vernon said loudly, "No, we don't want any!" and shut the door in the newcomer's face.

Or at least he tried to. The person on the other side of the door must have been quite strong, for they forced the door open again and said in a clearer voice that carried over to the stairs where Harry was standing, "I advise you to step aside, Dursley."

"No, I will not step aside!" said Uncle Vernon. "This is my house and I demand some respect!"

"Vernon, Vernon, who is it?" Aunt Petunia had come scurrying into the room.

"I have no idea," said Uncle Vernon. "Some crackpot or practical joker—"

Aunt Petunia craned her neck to peer over Uncle Vernon's shoulder and then gasped. "You!"

"Do you know this man?" asked Uncle Vernon incredulously.

"I—I—no—" stuttered Aunt Petunia, but it was obvious that she did know the man standing in the doorway.

Harry was getting increasingly annoyed and also very curious. Standing on tiptoe halfway up the steps, he tried to see past his aunt and uncle to the figure in the doorway. This proved unnecessary, however, when the man brushed past Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia into the entryway.

"Professor Snape?"

Snape's head snapped up and he looked at Harry, who was staring back at him in utter shock. What was Snape doing in Privet Drive of all places?

"Harry..." Severus's first feeling was of profound relief. The boy was okay. His brain had insisted on playing out all sorts of terrible scenarios, in which Severus had come too late and Harry had been seriously injured or gravely ill. Severus had gotten used to being able to see the boy every day, just visually check up on him to make sure he was okay. Even a week of him being alone with his abusive relatives seemed like far too long. On a closer look, however, Severus saw that all was not, in fact, well. While Harry appeared to be more or less alright, he was very pale and skinny and there were dark circles under his eyes. There was also what looked like fresh blood on the boy's cheek.

Rage boiled up inside Severus. "Potter," he said tersely, "come here."

Harry hesitated. He was torn between fear and relief. Part of him wanted to throw himself into Snape's arms and beg him to take him away, and part of him wanted to run up to his bedroom and slam the door.

"Potter, I said come here!"

Harry came. Severus bent down to look into the thirteen-year-old's face.

"You're bleeding," he said, touching a finger to Harry's cheek.

Harry flinched. "It's nothing..."

Severus clamped a vice-like hand on Harry's shoulder. "You're coming with me," he said.

"What—"

"Now you wait just one damn minute!" shouted Uncle Vernon, taking a step forward. "He's not going anywhere unless I say he's going!"

"I'm afraid that you have very little say in the matter, Dursley," said Severus coldly.

"He's my nephew!"

Severus had his wand out so fast Harry hadn't even seen him draw it.

"Take one more step, Dursley," he spat, "and you will dearly regret it." He turned his eyes to Aunt Petunia, who was standing in the doorway, her hands over her mouth. "Petunia, tell your great oaf of a husband to step off."

Uncle Vernon rounded on his wife. "Who is he?"

"He's—he's—he knew Lily—"

"Don't you mention Lily," said Severus dangerously. "I am Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Uncle Vernon's eyes bulged at this blatant reference to magic in his house, but Snape's wand was still pointing at his head, so he wisely kept silent.

"I have come to take Harry. You will not see him for the rest of the Holidays."

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia looked at each other. Harry knew what they were thinking. As much as they hated anyone telling them what they were and weren't going to do, especially someone from the magical world, getting rid of Harry only a week into the summer holidays was an inviting prospect.

Harry himself didn't know what to think. If you had asked him a year ago whether he would rather stay with the Dursleys or go off to some unknown location with Snape, he would have answered the Durleys any day, but now, as crazy as it sounded, he was hoping that he would be able to go with Snape. Had the Potions Master remembered his promise after all...?

Severus began to steer Harry toward the door, but Uncle Vernon barred the way.

"Get out of the way," said Severus in a soft, menacing voice.

Uncle Vernon wavered but didn't budge. He pulled himself up to his full height, puffed out his chest, and loomed over Severus. Severus stared coldly back.

Harry stood nervously in between them. The animosity radiating from the two men was palpable. Finally Uncle Vernon looked away and backed down, and Severus swept Harry out of the door.

"My things—" said Harry.

Severus flicked his wand behind them and Harry's school trunk and other possessions followed them out of the door. Then, with another flick of his wand, they disappeared.

"What—where—" said Harry, looking around bewildered.

"Hold still," commanded Severus.

Harry stopped craning his neck to try and find his things and held still. Suddenly everything went black. It felt as though he were being squeezed through a very tight plastic tube. Snape's hand felt like it was glued to his shoulder. He couldn't breathe. Just when he was beginning to panic, he felt a popping sensation, and he and Snape were suddenly standing in a very different place than the one that had been in a few moments earlier.

This was too much for Harry. He staggered and fell to his knees, shaking.

Severus knelt down beside him. "Potter...Harry...look at me."

Harry raised his head and looked at his professor.

"Come on," said Severus, laying a gentle hand on Harry's back. "Up you get."

Humiliatingly, Harry began to cry.

"Harry, Harry, stop it," said Severus, completely out of his element. He patted Harry awkwardly on the back, but this just seemed to make the boy cry even harder. "Harry, what's wrong?"

"You—you remembered," said Harry, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

"What?" said Severus, completely baffled.

"You remembered your promise."

Severus felt a tug at his heart. "You thought I'd forgotten?"

"Well..."

Severus stood up and pulled Harry to his feet. "I do not make promises I do not intend to keep, Potter," He said. "It just took me a little longer than I anticipated."

Harry sniffled. "So, you don't hate me again?"

"Why—of all the—no, you foolish boy, I do not hate you again."

Harry smiled hesitantly. "So—er—where are we?" he asked.

"We are outside my house at Spinner's End," said Severus. "Where I am going to take you until we figure out what is to be done with you."

"Y-your house, sir?"

"Yes, Potter, my house," said Severus impatiently. "Come along, I haven't got all day."

Harry, still feeling rather overwhelmed, followed Snape up a set of stone steps and into a small, dark, brick house.

AN: Hope you like it so far. If you feel so inclined as to review...well, that would be awesome ;)

-SQ