Summary: Harry is on the verge of a breakdown after the end of 5th yr. He returns home to a summer of brutal abuse to which Hedwig is the sole witness, she recruits an unwilling Snape to save her master.

Warnings: graphic child abuse, rape

Disclaimer: I am not, nor do I wish to be confused with, JK Rowling

Author's Note: This is my first story. Some feedback would be much appreciated. Please feel free to point out any mistakes. I would also like to warn readers that this story will likely not be very fast paced, as I write a lot of detail. Hopefully, the imagery is worth it.

Ch. 1 Man's Best Friend

Hedwig hooted mournfully into the warm night. She sat vigil in the old oak overhanging the Dursley's fence for the third night in a row, vainly hoping to see her master emerge from the white house.

Every night before he went to bed, generally between eleven and midnight, the big man dragged his frail nephew out into the yard and chained him there by the heavy collar around his neck. By starlight the boy was expected to complete all the yard work, avoiding the horrible possibility of any of the neighbors seeing him or the myriad bruises that now littered his body. It also had the convenient side effect of leaving his entire day free for indoor chores. His relatives seemed rather unconcerned about when the young boy may sleep; as far as they were concerned wizards, being freaks of nature, did not even require sleep.

The first night of the summer Harry spent in an unconscious heap on the cupboard floor after his welcome home beating, but the second night he was chained in the backyard to catch up on half a year's weeding in a single sitting. He was quite distraught when Hedwig fluttered down next to him on silent wings. He had given her explicit instructions to remain at Hogwarts, knowing his Uncle's distaste for his choice of pet. Other years he had selfishly taken her home with him, unable to face the thought of the summer without her companionship or any means of communication, but following yet another tragedy at the end of the school year he could not face the thought of putting another friend in harm's way. He would never forgive himself if something happened to Hedwig, just as he would never forgive himself for Cedric or Sirius. Nevertheless, he was still grateful for her quiet companionship as she kept him company through the long nights and watched over him when he finally succumbed to exhaustion. She also served as a handy alarm clock, pecking him awake as there was hell to pay if Uncle caught him sleeping in the morning.

She couldn't be there every night as she had her own needs to attend to, but she had never left him more than one night. And never had Harry failed to make an appearance for more than two nights in a row. Even when he was so weak and injured that he could barely pick himself up he was unceremoniously dumped outside, which is why on this third night of absence Hedwig anxiously awaited his appearance. In her worry she even risked being present prior to dusk. But darkness came and no Harry. And midnight chimed somewhere in the darkness but no Harry. And still the loyal owl maintained her vigil until it had to be well after two. She hopped from foot to foot impatiently her sleek feathers ruffled. Something was wrong, terribly wrong and she was frustrated in her helplessness. Finally, she threw herself into the air and winged her way towards London, the nearest source of help.

/

It would seem that the fates had not utterly abandoned Harry Potter. As Hedwig circled high above 12 Grimmauld Place searching for a route of entrance, she spied a shadowy figure stumbling down the street. As she had anticipated the figure stopped and ascended the stairs to the hidden residence. Folding her wings to her snowy sides, Hedwig dived out of the sky hitting the unfortunate man with the full force of her four pound frame. Hedwig could now claim the elusive prize catching Severus Snape off his guard, for it was none other than the dark Professor that she attacked. Snape was returning from a late night Death Eater meeting, stumbling with exhaustion and pain, he was already in a foul mood. Recovering from his shock quickly, he drew his wand on his invisible attacker, but Hedwig expertly stayed one step ahead of his aim until he identified the nuance as a mere owl. Too exhausted to be bothered teaching someone else's owl manners, he growled with annoyance and once more tried to reach the safety of the door, only to once more be greeted with a face full of talons and feathers. Snape performed a ridiculous dance swatting at the incessant animal until it became abundantly clear that she would not give up her mission.

Finally, accepting the impossibility of a quick retreat, the Potions Master held out an unsteady forearm upon which the animal instantly perched. Once still it became clear that she bore no letter. "Foolish bird, you have lost your missive. That blame lies with you not I. Now shoo." He gave his arm a vigorous shake but the owl only dug her talons deeper into his flesh, unwilling to relinquish her grip. Puffing herself up, wings flapping, she snapped her beak threateningly close to his face. "You must be the most irritating…" He stopped dead in his sentence, his groggy mind jogged by his inadvertent choice of words. Of course the world's most irritating owl was owned by the world's most irritating student. "You're Potter's owl," he hissed accusingly shoving his own beak back in the bird's face. Undeterred, Hedwig snapped up one of the dark locks now hanging enticingly within reach and once more launched herself into the air tugging the dark man back in the direction from which he had come.

As this debacle progressed Snape had gradually become more alert and having finally recognized the bird could recollect, despite her current behavior, that Hedwig was reputed to be an unusually intelligent and loyal owl. From her behavior it was clear that she wanted something and he could only assume that she had been sent by her master. Of course the brat had been too lazy to take the five seconds required to pen a note, so instead he, Severus, had to be attacked by an angry bird in the middle of the night. Typical.

He mentally weighed his options. He could escape inside for a well deserved sleep or he could appease the damn bird and check on Potter. He knew the address: all the members of the Order did. If something happened to Potter, Dumbledore would never forgive him. Claiming ignorance would be futile. Somehow the meddling old man knew everything. Sighing heavily, Snape grumbled to the bird, "Potter better hope that he is dying". With a loud pop he apparated both of them to Little Whinging, Surrey.

/

Number Four Privet Drive looked just as peaceful as every other house on the street, but now that he was here Snape would not pass up to the opportunity to inconvenience Potter in turn. A long lecture on allowing his owl to attack respectable people was certainly in order, if he had to wake the boy up to deliver it, all the better.

Snape was well enough acquainted with muggle customs to know that the doorbell would not be met with a welcome reception at this hour of the morning. A quick "Alohomora" took care of the trifling muggle lock. Ignoring the first floor he slipped up the steps. The first door, from behind which came a racket that could best be compared to a freight train, he correctly identified as the master. The next room obviously belonged to a spoiled child but the snoring mound under the blankets was far too large to be mistaken for Potter. The third doorway concealed a water closet that was obviously frequented by pigs. Which brought him to the end of the hall and a rather imposing fortress: a solid door shut fast with a half a dozen padlocks and a towel stuffed under the door presumably to stop the precious air-conditioned air leaking into a storage room. Storage for something highly valuable or highly volatile?

But then where the hell was Potter? The brat always had to make things difficult. He held his light aloft confirming that he not overlooked any doors in the hall. The boy must have a room downstairs then. Snape snorted, thinking that he too would place the boy as far away from himself as possible. But before trekking back downstairs he would satisfy his curiosity as to what muggle possessions could require such security. Another simple spell and the row of locks clicked open; he knocked them to the floor trusting the slumbering behemoths to cover the noise. Pushing open the creaky door he was hit with a wall of rank air.