The Cat

Chapter Three

Over the next few days, Harry began to consider Onyx something of a friend. And Severus found it nearly impossible to continue hating the boy. After hearing what Harry would tell the cat in the late hours of the night, when nightmares woke him, Severus was forced to accept that Harry was almost nothing like his father. And he was certainly not a spoiled prince. As much as Severus hated it, he realized that Harry probably had a harder home life then he himself had had as a child. 

Harry continued to tend to Severus's wounds. On one occasion when he took him out of the cage to change the bandages and put more potions on them, he discovered they were worse than he had thought. 

"Oh, no." Harry said. "It's not just your head. I missed something on your side here."

He dripped a few drops of a potion onto Severus's side, and then sighed. 

"You've got some cracked ribs. How did I not notice that sooner?"

He took some more bandages out from the floorboard, as well as potions, and set about trying to heal Severus's side. 

"Well." Harry sat back on his heels. "It's not great. Madam Pomfrey or probably Professor Snape could do better. But I'm doing what I can with what I've got." 

It was at that point that Severus knew he would never again be able to hate this boy. 

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A few days after that incident, Severus was sleeping, when Harry suddenly burst into his room.

"Onyx," he said, waking the cat. "Onyx, my uncle's coming up here in a minute. I'm going to cover the cage again. And whatever happens, you can't get upset like Hedwig would. You have to be quiet and still. No matter what happens, you have to stay calms."

Harry's tone deeply worried Severus. 

Harry had just finished covering the cage when Vernon burst into the room. In his haste, Harry had left a small part open, so Severus could witness what was happening. He was absolutely horrified when he saw what was in the man's hands. 

A belt. 

"I told you to have that finished." Vernon said. "And you didn't. And then you talk back to me? You know you have this coming." 

Harry remained silent, simply glaring at his uncle. 

"You know I'm right." Vernon sneered. "And you're going to wish you'd never been born when I'm finished with you."

"If my headmaster knew," Harry began to speak, but was cut off by Vernon.

"Your headmaster does know." he said quietly, startling Harry into silence. "He knows everything. Why do you think he left you here? He knew that you need this. That you deserve this. And you know it too, boy, don't you?" 

Harry refused to back down. He stood straight, looking his uncle right in the eyes, defiance in his expression. 

"Turn around and take the shirt off." Vernon instructed. "You know the drill." 

Harry obeyed his uncle, and placed his hands shoulder-width apart on the wall. Severus looked away just as Vernon raised the belt, but there was nothing he could do to stop the sounds. 

It seemed to go on for hours. In a slight pause about halfway through, Severus dared to look, only to see Vernon begin beating the boy with the buckle end. And the whole time, Harry didn't make a sound.

Severus hated it. He couldn't stand listening to this. He attacked the latch to the cage over and over, but it was too strong. He tried to twist through the bars, but they were too close together. There was nothing he could do.

The sounds eventually stopped, and Severus could hear Vernon stumping out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Then there were slight movements, and the creak of a floorboard. 

Ten minutes of quiet, and Harry removed the cover over the cage. He took Severus out, and placed him on the bed, gently stroking his head. At first, Severus stiffened, unaccustomed to physical contact, but eventually relaxed. He lay on the pillow beside Harry's head, in silence, until Harry began to speak. 

"I think... that the fact I don't cry or yell or anything makes him angry." he said slowly. "He wants me to cry. He wants to know he's getting to me. That it's actually hurting me. That it's having an effect. But I wouldn't give him the satisfaction." 

He sighed. 

"I don't think I even know how to cry." he continued. "I haven't since I was five years old. Crying only made things worse. They used to get mad when I cried, now they get mad when I don't cry."

There was a pause. 

"I think sometimes Hermione gets suspicious. I think she's sort of... guessed that something happens here. But I don't tell her, and she hasn't been able to work out what. I don't let things show very easily." he paused again. "I guess I'm sort of like Professor Snape, in that way. He doesn't let his emotions show. I never know what he's feeling. I feel like if he would tell me why he hates me so much, maybe I could fix it. Maybe we could learn to... I don't know, like each other, I guess. At least get along."

There was another, longer pause. 

"I feel a little guilty." Harry continued to stroke the cat's head. It seemed to calm him. "Every time something at Hogwarts happened, me and Ron and Hermione always just assumed it was Snape. When Quirrell jinxed my broom. Hermione even lit his robes on fire, because she and Ron thought that it was Snape trying to kill me. We thought he was the one who was trying to steal the Sorcerer's Stone, too. And in third year, I was really mad at him for a long time. Madder than usual, I suppose. He told everyone that Lupin is a werewolf. And he assigned an essay about werewolves, trying to get people to figure it out. And I'm still a little mad at him for that. Lupin was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor we've ever had. But then last year... I couldn't decide whether I thought it was Snape who put my name in the Goblet of Fire, or Karkaroff. Turned out to be neither. I guess we jump to conclusions a lot."

He lay on the bed in silence for a few more minutes, before returning Severus to the cage. 

"Goodnight, Onyx."