Summary: Severus and Minerva, posing as Mr. and Mrs. Miller, are sent to Privet Drive to investigate the quality of care Harry is receiving from the Dursleys. Set before Harry's first year, abusive-Dursleys, and Snape-mentors-Harry (sort of). Also featuring a Dumbledore that actually gives a damn about Harry's welfare, but he's still manipulative as ever. Won't be longer than 15 chapters.

A/N: I've always been interested in the dynamics between Severus and Minerva, and while I love Snape-rescues-Harry-from-the-Dursleys stories, they tend to look the same after a while, so I added a small twist. Inspired by their duel in 'Deathly Hallows.'

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.


Mr. and Mrs. Miller of number three, Privet Drive were perfectly abnormal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be standing here in front of their new summer home in this woefully boring and predictable neighbourhood in Little Whinging, because they just didn't hold with such ridiculous conformity.

Mr. Miller was a something of a scientist who usually dealt with concocting strange experiments in what he supposed he ought to consider a 'lab.' His normally greasy black hair was oddly stylish and brown this evening, and he had gained weight since the drink Mrs. Miller had forced him to swallow before they arrived at their new home. Mrs. Miller was a tall, severe-looking woman who wore square spectacles and always arranged her jet black hair into a tight bun. She taught at a special school, one that was not for mentally incapacitated youngsters, but rather gifted children. It had been nearly a decade since she had last visited Privet Drive, and she couldn't say she was thrilled to be back, especially with Mr. Miller accompanying her this time.

The Millers had no children of their own, though this was expected, as the Millers weren't married at all. Mr. Miller felt no feelings of affection for Mrs. Miller— or anyone for that matter— and Mrs. Miller felt their so-called 'relationship' was rather perverse, seeing that she was nearly forty years older than Mr. Miller.

Although they were supposed to be 'married,' there had actually never been a wedding ceremony, just a scheming old man telling Mr. and Mrs. Miller they ought to move to Privet Drive for the summer and keep an eye on their neighbours, particularly the one known as their nephew.

The day before the Millers were set to arrive, the family that lived at house number three had suddenly decided to go to Ireland for the summer, leaving the home free for the Millers to move in. They did not own a car, though this was a good thing, since neither of them knew how to drive. Public transport would have been a hassle, and they did not possess the correct currency to pay a cab fare. Instead, the Millers had their own means of getting there, and arrived on their doorstop with all of their luggage within seconds of departing their previous location.

"This is it, Severus," Mrs. Miller's hushed voice floated through the darkness as they stared up at the cookie-cutter home from the driveway. It looked like every other home on this street, with the exception of the #3 brass knocker on their front door. With the help of a few stars twinkling vibrantly above them, she could see an unhappy grimace upon his pale face.

"Albus said we will only be here for a little over a month," she continued, knowing how much the man beside her hated being away from his 'office.' Even this bit of reassurance couldn't ease his tense scowl.

"A little over a month?" he sneered. "And what happens after the boy receives his letter, Minerva? We leave him here and return to Hogwarts, knowing that his loving relatives will faithfully get him to school on time? I honestly wouldn't be surprised if we're trapped here for more than two months."

Minerva shook her head in exasperation. "Why must you always make things so difficult for yourself Severus?"

"Why must Dumbledore always send me to do what he is perfectly capable of doing himself?"

"Severus, you know he is quite overworked as it is with all of the Muggleborn admissions this year. If you do not wish to stay here, then I suggest you leave while you still can."

Severus glared at his colleague through the darkness that engulfed them. He hated the way she tried to act as though she was still his teacher, despite the fact that they were supposedly equals now. Dumbledore ordering him around like a brainwashed puppet was bad enough; he didn't need Minerva doing the same!

"I am staying," he said bitterly, remembering the promise he made to Dumbledore eleven years ago, even though the old headmaster failed to uphold his end of the bargain, keeping only one third of the Potter family safe.

Minerva nodded curtly, then flicked her wand at the door; the Muggles that lived here had failed to leave behind their house keys, and magic the only option left. With another swish of her wand, their luggage was sent flying through the doorway, saving a lot of time and effort on their part.

If the luminescent moon had not been shielded by clouds tonight, one of their neighbours might have seen the suitcases soaring into the home on their own accord…

Petunia Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, was staring out the window in shock: since when did the Lanthers begin renting out their home to strangers? She couldn't see much more than their faint outlines, but she knew the Lanthers were much shorter than the couple that stood outside. They also had four children, but there were no children in sight with these two.

Petunia's heart raced as she wondered how she could have possibly missed the Lanthers' departure. All she ever did was spy on her neighbours; how could she have ignored something as significant as these new people moving in?

It's the boy's fault, she reassured herself at once. If the boy hadn't dropped her favourite tea kettle this afternoon, she wouldn't have had to spend her entire afternoon inside, yelling at him and punishing him for his clumsiness.

"Vernon, come quickly!" she hissed to her husband, who was slouching on the couch next to her beloved Diddykins, watching the evening news. Both of them ignored her. Vernon's eyes were glued to the telly, and even Dudley had a trancelike look about him, with melted strawberry ice cream dribbling down his chin as he sat, unblinking. Had she not loved her boys as much as she did, Petunia would have taken away their ice cream cartons and slammed them onto their heads.

"Vernon!" she shrieked as she got a brief glimpse of what the neighbours were wearing. Was it just her imagination, or were they wearing cloaks?

"What is it, Petunia?" Vernon asked impatiently, remaining in his seat just a foot or two from the telly.

"There are people outside!"

"That's just the neighbours, dear."

Outside, Petunia's frantic shrieking rang through the otherwise silent night, catching the attention of her number three's newest inhabitants.

"Would that be dear Petunia?" Minerva asked looking on in disgust as the woman continued to gawk unashamedly at them. She hadn't seen the woman since they had left Harry Potter on her family's doorstop ten years ago. Apparently she hadn't changed either her demeanour or physical appearance since.

Although it had been nearly fifteen years since he had seen her last, Severus recognized her as well. Even as an adult, she still had the limp blonde hair, the overlarge neck, and the bratty attitude that Severus was already accustomed to seeing in nearly every student that walked through his classroom.

He silently cursed her existence as her husband walked up to the window and peered out at him and Minerva. If it weren't for Petunia— or 'Tuney' as Severus remembered her— he wouldn't have been forced to take Polyjuice Potion for nearly every waking moment during his stay here at Privet Drive. He didn't care if she recognized him, but Dumbledore wanted to ensure maximum normalcy during their stay, in order to see how the Dursleys treated their nephew in a natural setting.

Severus knew it was highly unlikely that Dumbledore was truly concerned for the boy's wellbeing, but, as always, he went along with whatever the headmaster asked him to do.

He wasn't the only victim of Dumbledore's brilliant plans, after all. Mrs. Figg had also been manipulated into looking out for the boy since he was a baby— on Dumbledore's orders, of course. Recently, she had reported an increase in the Dursleys' aggression toward the boy, leading to the little mission Severus and Minerva were currently embarking on.

Old Mrs. Figg lived a street over from the Dursleys and wasn't on the best of terms with them. They merely used her to babysit the boy when they were going somewhere special and didn't want him along to ruin it. Severus didn't quite understand the old man's motivations for sending him and Minerva to investigate— the Squib was proficient, in Severus' opinion— and he didn't care for the plan, either. Suffering through a round of Cruciatus Curses sounded more fun than attempting to become friends with his ex-best friend's awful sister and her equally atrocious family.

Not to mention Potter. Bloody. Stupid. Potter. Severus' past, present, and future.

He knew he'd have to face the brat someday, but why couldn't their first encounter be at Hogwarts, where Severus would have all of the authority, and Potter would be just another scrawny little first year? Could that possibly explain why Dumbledore hadn't just sent Minerva along, but insisted that Severus went as well? To torture him? To make him see the supposedly 'abused' Boy-Who-Lived and suddenly forget what the brat's father did to him several years ago? Did Dumbledore honestly think he would have sympathy for any child of James Potter's?

He might have agreed to protect him for Dumbledore, but that did not mean he had to like the boy!

Although he and Minerva were trying to pretend they didn't see the Dursleys watching them from their downstairs window, he couldn't resist glancing briefly in their direction, looking for some sign of Potter. Unless the chubby blonde boy was Potter, he wasn't there.

Severus found himself wondering what Potter might look like. The only piece of information regarding the boy's appearance he had ever gotten was that he has his mother's eyes. And something about a scar. For all he knew, Dumbledore had flat-out lied to him about the boy's eyes and he was a perfect reincarnation of James Potter. Severus shuddered as he tried to imagine it. He momentarily considered prodding Minerva for answers, but quickly decided against it. He didn't want to appear as though he was actually interested in Potter, especially to Minerva, who was already trying to convince him that he would grow fond of Potter…eventually. Severus was determined to prove her wrong.

While she hadn't seen Potter since he was an infant, Minerva had adored his mother when she was her student, and she had tolerated his father. Severus was fairly certain the boy would follow in his parents' footsteps and become a Gryffindor, which only deepened his loathing for the boy, whom he hadn't even met yet. Of course Minerva would like him; she was going to be his Head of House.

Without realizing what he was doing, Severus yawned. He had been too focused on his thoughts to remember to hide his exhaustion from Minerva, and she immediately noticed this.

"Let's go inside, shall we?" she sighed, knowing that one wrong word would further irritate her temperamental colleague. So far, he had been strangely relaxed about the whole situation, but she knew he was quite skilled at hiding how he was truly feeling…if he felt anything at all, which she sometimes believed to be impossible.

"I am not a child, Minerva," he snapped at her as she gently pressed her hand against his back, trying to lead him inside. "I am perfectly capable of finding the entrance by myself."

As soon as the billowing black robes disappeared through the doorway, Minerva frowned. It's going to be a long summer.

xXxXxXxXx

The next morning, after a fitful night's sleep, Severus awoke in a room that was far too small and far too bright. Hoping to make him at least somewhat happy, Minerva had allowed him to take the master bedroom, while she settled for the guest room. Severus wasn't fooled, however. Being an expert at Transfiguration, she had undoubtedly increased the size of the room tenfold with a mere flick of the wand, and she probably didn't have to paint the walls before turning in for the night as Severus had, seeing as his walls were covered with sickeningly sweet flower garden designs. There was also his problematic window, which still allowed sunlight through; despite the variety of spells Severus had placed upon it to block such a nuisance. The king-sized bed upon the mahogany frame was not his own, and he was utterly revolted by the thought of what the previous occupants might have done in it. Luckily Severus was somewhat skilled in Transfiguration and created his own bed, though it was not as comfortable or familiar as the bed in his private quarters in the dungeons at Hogwarts, which only further disturbed his already poor night's sleep.

To make things worse, Minerva had ensured that there were no cloaks or robes in his wardrobe, lest he be tempted to 'forget' that he was supposed to be posing as a Muggle. The casual black pants and emerald green polo shirt were unbearably repulsive, and the fact that Minerva had laid this out for him like a mother would for a young child made him want to Transfigure everything into his old black robes, just to spite her. He was thirty one years old, not five!

Feeling thoroughly annoyed and even mildly embarrassed once he put the new clothes on, he began trudging his way downstairs, where he could smell something burning in the kitchen. His sagging clothes were far too loose on his thin frame, but they would fit once Mummy McGonagall spoon-fed him his first dose of Polyjuice Potion for the day.

Perhaps it was a good thing he never married; Severus couldn't even go twenty four hours without getting frustrated with his 'wife' and they weren't even married at all! He had known Minerva nearly his entire life: first as a student, later on as a fellow professor. While they maintained civility toward each other, they had never been particularly close. Now that they were going to be trapped with each other all the time for at least the next month, however, she seemed to be putting forth an effort to show him basic kindness. Severus decided that he would definitely prefer it if Minerva completely ignored him, but that didn't seem too likely for a while.

"Good morning, Severus," she said in a strained voice as he entered the kitchen. She was trying to cook, Muggle-style, and she was failing miserably. Seeing Minerva, standing in a kitchen and clothed in Muggle attire was one of the strangest scenarios Severus had ever seen. She was so stern and uptight at Hogwarts that it was disconcerting to see her face etched with aggravation as she attempted to scramble a stubborn egg.

"Morning," he muttered under his breath, finding nothing in his day that he would have considered 'good' since waking. He was not accustomed to this much sunlight…ever. He rarely left his dungeons, and when he did, he always made sure it was after the sun had set.

"I haven't tried cooking on my own in years," Minerva continued as she jabbed a carrot peeler at the egg, which was starting to brown and harden in the pan. Without warning, the toaster suddenly exploded behind them, scattering bread crumbs all over their new Muggle clothes.

Gritting his teeth, Severus whisked away the bits from his clothes with his wand, but Minerva didn't bother with magic, instead she brushed them off of her burgundy sweater with her hands.

"Do you have a wand or not?" Severus snapped as the Muggle fire alert system began loudly beeping throughout the house. The sausages were burning now.

"If we're going to live around Muggles for a while, then we ought to live as they do," Minerva replied sternly.

"You may have forgotten, Minerva—silencio!" the beeping finally stopped, "— but I grew up with a Muggle father and see absolutely no reason to act as one when in the company of a fellow wizard."

To prove his point, he flicked his wand at Minerva's disaster area also known as the stovetop and Vanished the remainder of the breakfast she had been unsuccessfully trying to cook.

The old you're-in-trouble-now expression that she had often used when he had been her student returned, but Severus was undeterred. Just because he had agreed to go along with the plan didn't mean he had to suddenly sprout kindness and goodwill from every pore of his body.

Shaking her head, Minerva finally resorted to using her wand to clean up the remaining grease residue from the pans. "I honestly don't know how house elves can possibly cook with such little magic," she muttered as she waved her wand at the food cabinets, magically preparing a cold breakfast in seconds. It tasted nothing like the delectable Hogwarts-style meals, but it was enough.

"We're going to meet our neighbours today," Minerva said slowly after a long period of silence. She waited for Severus to lash out or complain endlessly how he wouldn't be coming with her, but to her surprise, he just ignored her. Typical Severus.

She watched him for quite some time, wondering if there was anyone on earth who could look more miserable while eating a sugar-packed cereal than him. Since she usually sat next to the always-ravenous Hagrid at Hogwarts, she was not used to seeing someone eat so little. It was easy to see why he was so thin, he was practically anorexic.

"We're leaving in ten minutes," Minerva said stiffly as she got to her feet. Severus continued keeping his attention solely on the bowl in front of him; only when Minerva placed a small flask of what looked like Polyjuice Potion in front of him did he avert his gaze.

Still annoyed by his lack of response, Minerva stalked off, leaving Severus to his thoughts.

He wondered how Petunia would react if he showed up as himself. Smirking, he thought if she fainted he could send her unconscious body to Dumbledore as a token of gratitude for sending him to Privet Drive with the irksome Gryffindor queen. Petunia had always wanted to go to Hogwarts, after all…

Remembering Dumbledore's warning about keeping the atmosphere as calm and normal as possible, he reluctantly drank the potion and pocketed his wand as he headed for the door. If he was meeting Harry Potter today, he might just need it.


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