Harry Potter is five years old now, though he does not look it. He looks more like a small four or three year old. But, that's not the end of it.
The fact that none of his neighbors know he exists, that he sleeps in a cupboard, even that his parents are dead, is not the end, nor the worst of it. No, the worst, is his uncle. The reason he doesn't speak, look at anyone, barely even breathe. Each night, he hopes for someone to come and save him, but they never come. No matter how hard he wishes, how hard he hopes, it seems he will be stuck there forever, or until his slow, agonizing march to death ends.
One night, after hoping and hoping, he starts to realize he will never get saved, helped, even comforted, for his entire life.
What if he's wrong, and what if a certain Slytherin can heal this broken child?
What if, in turn, this broken child can heal him?
THIS IS NOT SNARRY!! If that's your thing that's fine, but HARRY IS FIVE IN THIS FANFIC!!
NOT SNARRY!!
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