Chapter 3
Severus Snape was absolutely not looking forward to his day. Due to the fact that Minerva was on a long awaited, much needed vacation, and Albus was busy dealing with business involving his friend Nicolas Flamel, Severus was currently the highest level of authority at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As such, Severus was in charge of all of the summer responsibilities that his fellow staff had left behind, which, as it was summer, admittedly wasn’t much.
The most Severus really had to do was read and sort the replies of the prospective new first years. He needn’t even write or send the letters as Minerva had long ago invented a standard letter which changed only the name of the child, and a magical quill that penned each child’s specific address onto the envelope. Then, each letter magically attached itself to a free owl in the owlery. It was a very simple system, and Severus had had absolutely no trouble with the letters at all until Harry Potter had sent back a very unique reply.
Of course it had to be Potter.
Although Severus wanted to assume the letter was a prank, he couldn’t help but recall just how contrary to magic Lily’s older sister had actually been. It wasn’t too much of a stretch to assume that she had neglected to inform her nephew about the magical world.
In the end, Severus had decided that he should at least go and check on the child just in case Petunia had been less than forthcoming about the boy’s heritage. Hence his unease about his day to come. On the bright side, if the Potter brat had been lying, then Severus would get the privilege of assigning the boy detention before school had even started. That, of course, was far too sweet an opportunity to pass up.
Still the image of impending punishment didn’t completely brighten Severus’s day, as he still had to dress up like a muggle and go meet the Potter boy’s apparently magic hating family. Severus hated dressing as a muggle. He always felt less daunting without the aid of his long black robes sweeping menacingly around him.
At precisely two minutes to nine, Severus apparated to the edge of Privet Drive and proceeded swiftly to the number four house. He sneered at the street’s extreme blandness wondering how exactly the residents didn’t get confused in the dark. If not for the shiny numbers on each house, they all might have been precisely the same. Some of the muggles even seemed to have the same cars in slightly different shades. It was revolting.
Severus knew the Dursleys likely wouldn’t be anticipating him as he had expressly prohibited Potter from warning the muggles, (though, that was mostly so that if he disobeyed and told them anyway, Severus would have an easy excuse to give the boy a detention) so he wasn’t overly surprised to see a car pulling away from the number 4 driveway. He thought he could just make out 2 figures inside as it passed. From what he could see one was likely Petunia, and the other was an extremely overweight boy with blond hair.
Too bad, he thought as he continued down the pavement to the house. It would be a shame to miss a chance to insult dear Tuney, but he had to admit, the conversation would likely go much faster without her patent shrieking. Hopefully the woman’s husband would have stayed home with her nephew. (There was no doubt in his mind that the blond boy from the car would have had to be Potter’s cousin. The press had gotten hold of a baby picture of the Potter spawn after the Dark Lord’s fall, and there was no way the child in that picture would have grown to look like the one in the car. The features and hair colour were all wrong.) Getting the truth out of Potter would most probably be akin to pulling teeth without the aid of another adult.
Severus rang the bell and was greeted after a moment by someone who could only be the father of the heavyset boy from the car. If the badly concealed confusion on the man’s face was anything to go by then the Potter brat could at least be trusted to follow some directions.
“Hello, can I help you?” the large man asked in what Severus was sure Mr. Dursley thought was a polite voice. It wasn’t. Severus sneered often enough to recognize one even when it wasn’t shown. Severus noted the man eyed his hair in particular with obvious disdain.
Holding back a sneer of his own at the rather unpleasant looking muggle, Severus said, “Yes. I am here to enquire about Mr. Harry Potter.” The man gave Severus a look of distaste. Severus wasn’t sure if the look was caused by Potter or himself, but he didn’t truly care.
Mr. Dursley opened the door wider and beckoned Severus in peering around him at the street as if he expected the neighbours to all be standing in their front gardens listening intently to his business. They, of course, were not. “Come in, come in. What’s the boy done now?”
That question didn’t seem too promising for young Mr. Potter’s character, and Severus hoped that it meant the boy had lied in the letter. Then, at least, assigning the boy a well-deserved detention would still be on the table.
“That remains to be seen.” Severus said following the muggle into the living room. “Perhaps I should introduce myself. I am Professor Severus Snape from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” Severus said while taking a moment to examine the room, failing to notice the reddish colour Mr. Dursley’s face had just turned. He did, however, notice that there was only one child featured in any of the many family pictures that adorned the room, and that child was the one he had seen in the car and definitely couldn’t have been Potter. Nevertheless, he continued. “A few days ago, Mr. Potter received a letter informing him of his place at Hogwarts, and he returned a letter in which he claimed he had had no previous knowledge that magic even existed, much less that he possessed the ability to use it. I am sure, of course, that this must be a mistake.”
Severus was surprised to find a very irate Mr. Dursley when he turned back around. The man’s face was quickly turning from red to purple, and he was pointing a shaking stubby finger under Severus’s nose. “Now you see here,” the threat was obvious behind the muggle’s words. “He’ll not be going. We swore when we took him in that we would squash that unnaturalness out of the boy. We needn’t have that kind of nonsense around our Dudley. I think you best leave, sir. And not come back.”
If there was one thing Severus detested, it was a bully, and it was obvious from his demeaner that a bully was precisely what Vernon Dursley was. The man had stepped forward into Severus’s space as he spoke and had his large chest puffed out as far as it would go, as if by holding himself that way his size would seem more likely due to muscle than from the flab that it obviously was. Severus was sure that Dursley had had very good results from this behaviour in the past, but in the past he hadn’t been trying to bully a fully-grown wizard.
A new picture of what Harry Potter’s life must actually be like was beginning to form in Severus’s mind, and it wasn’t a pleasant one. Gone were his assumptions of the child being a spoiled prankster like his father. It was obvious now that there was no love in this house for the Saviour of the Wizarding World.
Severus stared intently into the muggle’s beady eyes and drew his wand without raising it. Instead, he jabbed the point into the man’s lower stomach and said in a darkly calm voice, “I believe it is time I spoke with Mr. Potter. Where is he?”
The man gulped and stared down in fear at the wand Severus had at his stomach. The muggle backed away slightly and reapplied his glare. “He’s out. Gone to a friend’s house. He won’t be back until tomorrow.” Severus didn’t have to employ Legilimency to know that Dursley was lying.
Severus advanced towards the large man and said a bit louder as he dug the wand deeper, “I will ask you once more, where is Potter? And take care to tell the truth, for if you do not I willknow, and I will make you tell me.” He enunciated slowly, raising his wand to the muggle’s throat.
Dursley opened his mouth, no doubt to lie again, but Severus was tired of being patient. “Point me Harry Potter,” Severus commanded, holding his wand out in front of him. Dursley jumped and starred in horror as the professor’s wand spun in his hand and pointed to the entry hall. As Severus made to follow the wand, Dursley seemed to gather his wits and began sputtering in protest again, following closely behind him, but Severus dutifully tuned the man out.
The wand led him to a small door beneath the stairs. The brute had apparently locked his nephew in the broom cupboard. Severus preformed a silent Alohomora and wrenched the cupboard door open.
Severus was beyond enraged to notice that this was far from a one-time occurrence. There was a cot with a ratty blanket, a few broken toys and a childish hand-made sign proclaiming the cupboard ‘Harry’s Room’. Worst of all was the battered boy laying on the cot.
Harry Potter’s appearance was nearly completely obscured by the massive bruise on the left side of his face. His glasses were shattered, and he had shallow cuts around his eyes and on his eyelids which where both beginning to blacken. Dried blood had crusted around his mouth and chin which had obviously come from having someone hit him in the face hard enough to bust and possibly break his nose. The boy’s clothes were obviously second hand, overly large and ragged which only served to further envelope his clearly underfed body. His shirt’s gaping neckline exposed severe bruising around his collar bone.
The child was very obviously in pain and was barely conscious. He stared unfocussed at Severus when the man knelt down next to him.
“Professor Snape. You came. I knew you would save me…” the child voiced feebly and drifted into unconsciousness. With that all too telling sentence, something stirred in Severus’s stomach at the blind trust the abused boy showed him. Him, a complete stranger. Severus turned and exited the cupboard in a rage.
The muggle was attempting in vain to give some excuse for his nephew’s poor condition, but Severus was deaf to the man’s nattering. He backed Dursley up against the wall and jabbed his wand into the side of the man’s throat.
This man deserved death. Severus had killed before for far less. Still, he knew that if he killed or maimed the muggle now rather than contacting Dumbledore or the proper authorities his past as a Death Eater would only serve to paint this situation as a kidnapping on his part. Justice would have to wait. He lowered his wand.
Nonetheless, he couldn’t stop himself from punching the man in the nose, as he had likely done to his nephew, and then slamming a knee into his groin for good measure. The muggle collapsed to the floor and groaned in pain while grabbing at his unmentionables. Blood poured from his newly broken nose. Severus used his new vantage point of towering over him to step one foot on to the man’s upper chest, close enough to his throat to make Vernon nervous when he leaned most of his weight onto the muggle’s form.
“Had I the time, I would torture and kill you for all you have done to that child. Unfortunately, Mr. Potter is in need of immediate medical assistance, so you shall have to wait. But know this Dursley, I will be back, and no matter where you think to hide, I will find you. You will pay for what you have done to your nephew. Dearly.” Severus promised and turned to collect the too small frame of Harry Potter. As soon as he had the boy in his arms he apparated on the spot, not even bothering to spare the bleeding muggle another glance.