Walk the Shadows

to be inundated with your questions. He has . . . It was . . .' He shook his head and gave a huff of annoyance. 'Let me start back a bit further, and I will try and explain. Harry's relatives, as I am sure you are aware, were never . . . kind to him.' He peered at Hermione as if trying to get a sense of what she knew.

'Harry never spoke of them much,' she admitted. 'At least not to me. He did say they didn't like him. That they didn't like magic.' She looked at Ron, who was obviously trying to rally, and had something to say. 'Ron?'

He nodded, his face still pale, and his voice was hoarse as he said, 'He always asked Dumbledore, er, Professor Dumbledore if he could stay here summers, you know? And Mum sent him care packages, too, 'cause they never fed him right. He told me once it was the only way he got through the hols, but I thought . . . I thought he meant he just liked her pasties.' He swallowed hard and looked at his hands. 'Second year, me and the twins broke him out; they'd put bars on his window and locked him in his room.' Ron hitched one shoulder up, seemed to work up his courage, and looked at the Professor again. 'Were they worse this year? We didn't get any letters from Harry at all, and some of ours even got returned.'

Professor Snape regarded Ron for a long moment, his expression utterly blank. 'If by worse, you mean more than just starving him or locking him up, then yes. When he was . . . abducted from their house, he had been abandoned by his family. I do not know for how long exactly, days at least, and he was near death from lack of food and water. But he had . . .' He took a slow breath and looked away, and his eyes were hidden by the curtain of his dark, greasy hair. It seemed he did not want to go on.

'Yes, Professor?' Hermione said quietly. 'He had what?'

The man's hard gaze found hers again, and she barely kept herself from flinching at the sudden rage in them. 'His uncle,' he spat the word, though he continued so softly, Hermione almost had to lean forward to hear, 'killed Harry's owl. Hedwig. Apparently kicked it to death, after beating Harry unconscious.'

Hermione felt her jaw fall open, and could not for the life of her get it to close. Hedwig meant the world to Harry, everyone knew that. And for that, that vicious man to kill her . . . and beat Harry? No wonder he didn't want to talk about his family with anyone. No wonder he was hiding away from his friends. And then he'd gone from frying pan to fire, hadn't he, when the Death Eaters kidnapped him. How much could he be expected to take?

For his part, Ron blanched once more, and moaned softly, 'Ohh, bloody hell. Poor Harry.'

'Indeed,' the Professor said in an awful, sarcastic drawl and looked away again. His thin, pale hands were clasped together in his lap, but his knuckles were bone white, as if he could only keep his hands still by gripping them tight. Hermione watched him closely, trying to get a better feel for what had happened to her friend. She was glad when he continued, 'Thus was Harry rescued by Death Eaters. The Dark Lord decided, for some reason, that he wanted Harry whole and strong. Perhaps to turn him, perhaps to make a bigger mockery of his execution, I do not know, and conjecture on that madman's motives is moot at this point. Regardless, he ordered Harry to be healed and fattened up before seeing him again. I . . . I tried to help the boy, but there was only so much I could do without raising suspicion. When I did too much,' he said with a sharp wave of his hand, 'I became a captive as well.' Professor Snape sighed and closed his eyes again, as if recalling something painful.

He maintained his stiff posture, not looking at her or Ron, and his voice was strained as he continued, 'Still, I formed a plan for escape. Harry had been cursed horribly by one of those assigned to guard him, and his eyes were damaged in the process. I had an idea for a potion that might aid his recovery, but I could do naught where we were. And Harry was . . . he was not doing well. So I attempted to run, with him. Alas . . . my plan failed. We were captured again, and this time, the Dark Lord tried to break him.'

Hermione's stomach plummeted, and she did not want to ask, but she had to, if she would be any help to Harry at all. 'And did he?' she whispered, leaning forward. 'Did he break Harry?'

The Professor nodded, one sharp jerk of his head, and Hermione could not hold back her tears anymore. It was too awful: Hedwig, his uncle, kidnap, and torture . . . She did not try to wipe her tears away, but let them flow. She would not hide her sorrow on Harry's behalf