Coincidences
By Enchanted Unicorn
Chapter 1
How the second part of my story Similarities could have gone: Vernon refused to buy Dudley a new laptop, so he calls the police on his dad. Harry gets rescued and put into the care of the one and only Severus Snape.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Warning: Will have hints of extreme abuse, neglect. This was meant to be quite different from canon.
A/N: If you have not read chapters 1 through 4 (the first part) of my story Similarities, this probably won't make much sense.
One more thing. Assume that the Dursleys still live in Cokeworth like the Evans family did, and Severus lives on Spinner's End in Cokeworth too.
"Dad! I want this NOW!" eight-year-old Dudley screamed, pointing to an advertisement of a laptop on a magazine.
Vernon cupped his precious son's face in his hands. "Dudley, it's way too expensive, and we just bought you a laptop a month ago," he mentioned softly, looking at the boy straight into the eye.
"No!" the insolent boy disagreed wildly, throwing the booklet as hard as he could at his father, almost poking him in the eye. Dudley reached for it again, but this time, a hand intercepted his arm and grabbed it firmly.
"No," Vernon said sternly, "We will not." And with that, he ignored his son and started watching the telly.
Dudley sulked, his dad was being SO unfair! And he even grabbed his arm and left pink marks on it! He was being the worst dad ever! He ought to have them arrested for child abuse, for leaving marks on him and neglecting him. Smiling wickedly, a devilish plan began forming in his mind.
He sneaked upstairs into his second bedroom and grabbed a new vial of unused, permanent ink, and a cotton swab. He lightly dipped it into the blue ink before quickly smearing in on his neck, until it was covered a large area and was faded. Then he pulled on a high-collared coat, but not too high, and cleaned up all evidence. Dudley headed to the telephone and hurriedly dialed the emergency number.
"Hello? How may I help you?" came the voice.
"My dad is a-busing and ne-glecting me. I'm only eight," Dudley whined dejectedly, stumbling over the big words, before hanging up.
"Agent Charles and Agent Rory, there is an abuse and neglect case at Number Eight Windmill Drive. The Dursley's residence," a voice spoke from the radio in the car. "Do you hear me? Abuse and neglect case at Number Eight Windmill Drive. The Dursley's residence."
The two men, who were relaxing, bolted upright at that. "Yes, abuse and neglect case at Number Eight Windmill Drive. The Dursley's residence," Agent Charles repeated quickly, while the other, Agent Rory, started the car.
They drove in silence, the only sound to be heard was the siren on the car. "We don't have many abuse cases, do we?" Agent Rory sighed, breaking the silence.
Agent Charles shook his head at his partner. "Nah, not a lot of abuse cases," he agreed. "And most of them aren't that severe."
Agent Rory thought back to many, many years ago, to one of his first abuse cases, and his first "bad" one. "Charles, do you remember Severus? The one with the drunkard for a father, who claimed that the mother committed suicide when she was actually murdered? And then, I believe, their neighbor adopted him."
His partner thought back. "I believe so…I'm getting old, I cannot remember very clearly…" Suddenly, a picture of a thin boy with long, dark hair appeared in his mind. "Yes, yes I do. That was a long time ago. God, that poor kid…I hope he's alright now. Abuse can leave lasting scars."
"I know, Charles, believe me, I know. My experience was one of the reasons why I became a cop," Agent Rory muttered as he pulled up on the drive. Swiftly, they both got out and walked to the door.
Agent Charles knocked sharply on the door, three times in quick succession. The younger agent (Rory) placed his ear upon the door and managed to faintly hear a man shout something like, "Freak, get in there now!" and then banging noises.
"Freak, get in there now," Agent Rory murmured to the other. "We must search the house too."
Agent Charles's eyebrows rose. "That bears similarities to young Severus's case, doesn't it? And yes, I'll search the house."
Before he could answer, the door opened to reveal an oversized boy looking up with piggy eyes? Surely this could not be the abused and neglected child, he did not look like it.
"We're here to investigate a child abuse complaint," Agent Charles stated formally.
A man, bearing much resemblance to the boy, came into view. At the sight of the men, he immediately snapped, "Come in, I do not want my reputation to be ruined."
He certainly seemed like the child-abusing type of person, both agents thought as they entered the friendly-looking house. They noticed that there were pictures of three everywhere in every single portrait. Each one included the boy and the man, plus a woman. There was absolutely no sign of neglect in the household whatsoever.
"And you are?" Agent Charles inquired.
"Vernon Dursley. Whatever the teachers told you, it isn't true," Vernon scowled.
"Where's your wife?"
"Out."
Agent Rory cleared his throat and beckoned the boy to follow him with his finger. They entered the kitchen, and the agent kneeled down so he could look straight into the eye of the boy.
"What's your name?" he questioned.
"My name," the boy started importantly, "is Dudley Dursley."
"I want to know what happened."
"M-My dad shoves me around and doesn't give me what I want," Dudley blubbered.
Agent Rory frowned at the blue patches on the boy's meaty neck, almost covered up by his coat…and they did not even look like real bruises. "What happened to your neck?"
"He grabbed it," Dudley said, pathetically.
"Has this happened before?"
"No," Dudley sniffed.
"How was he neglecting you?"
"He didn't get me a laptop!"
Agent Rory snorted but then tried to cover it up with a cough. "Why do you need it? For school?"
"No! So I can play on it with my friends!" Dudley exclaimed, oblivious to anything.
"That's all?" the agent asked with disbelief.
"Yeah."
Agent Rory pursed his lips at that. Obviously, this boy was spoilt, so neglect was out of the question, but physical abuse was still possible. "Has he left marks on you before?"
Dudley looked up in confusion. "No…but he left bruises on me today!" He pointed to his neck again.
At the closer look, the agent realized that they were actually ink stains. He sighed. No physical abuse either then. "Come with me, Dudley," he gestured, and they walked back to the living room.
After Agent Rory and the boy left to the kitchen, Agent Charles spoke authoritatively, "I, by law, have the right to search the house." As an afterthought he added, "Here's proof of a search warrant in case you ask," and passed the man a slip of paper. Ignoring the Dursley man's stammers and splutters, he started wandering around the house.
"What were you just doing, Dursley?" he called from the hallway.
"I was watching the telly," came the sharp reply. "Is there a problem with that?"
Actually, there was, Agent Charles noticed. If he was watching the telly, then who was cooking the dinner? Sighing, he continued to search the first floor, before freezing. He kneeled down and took a closer look at the floor. There was blood. It was very indistinct and faded, as if it blood spilled on the floor, dried there, someone attempted to clean it, and that process happened over and over again.
"Whose blood is this?" he muttered.
He stared at the floor for a few more moments, before hurrying upstairs (or hurrying as fast as his aged limbs could bring him). There was nothing upstairs, no oneupstairs. So that meant that Vernon and the boy were the only ones in the house. But there had to be a third person somewhere, he groaned as he walked down the stairs. The oversized boy for sure could not cook, and Vernon already said he was not…
As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he paused and strained his ears. He thought he heard a sob or a cry or something…but after listening for many more seconds, he did not hear anything else. Maybe his old ears were just deceiving him, but it would be best if he had Rory listen too.
"Everything is fine, sir," Agent Rory said respectfully to Vernon. "I apologize for the inconvenience caused."
"See that it doesn't happen again," Vernon huffed haughtily.
Agent Rory ignored that, and continued, "However, I would suggest that you keep a tighter rein on your son over here." He jerked his head at Dudley, and looked pointedly at the blue ink on his neck.
Vernon frowned at that, but otherwise nodded mutely. Dudley moved to stand next to his dad.
"Rory," came a voice from the stairway. "Come over here."
Vernon grabbed Agent Rory's hand. "Everything is fine, now can you please get out of my house?" he hissed, almost desperately.
"Kindly let go of me," Agent Rory said, before shaking the hand off his arm and striding over to his coworker.
"Listen," Agent Charles instructed.
Agent Rory obeyed, and after a few moments, he heard a muffled crying sound coming from under the staircase. "The cupboard," he whispered.
"The cupboard?" Agent Charles repeated, his brows furrowing when Rory nodded.
He marched up to the door under the stairs and tried to open it.
"What are you doing?" Vernon shrieked, pushing both of them away from the door.
"Open the door, Dursley, and move away. Now," Agent Charles demanded.
Vernon hastily tried to come up with an excuse. "Uh…um…that's our safe!" he finally protested. "I am not going to open it to two random strangers!"
Finally, Agent Charles's patience snapped and he raised his baton, causing Vernon to back up. Coward. "Well?"
"Well…um…"
"Open it now," Agent Rory glared, his voice raised loudly.
Vernon stuffed his hands in his pockets and felt around them. "Alright, alright," he grumbled. "Here." He shoved the key to Agent Rory, who took it.
"This better work," he warned, before sticking the key in and turning it. He sighed as he heard the expected click, but all relief was washed away as he peered inside.
A scrawny boy huddled inside, tears streaking down his face. As the door opened, he scrambled backward as far as he could go in the cupboard, which reeked of an awful smell. Now that was real abuse and neglect, Agent Rory noted. One look inside told him that the cupboard was obviously the boy's room for a very long time.
Agent Charles spun around and pinned Vernon to the wall. "Don't move," he commanded, before taking the man's wrists and handcuffing them.
"Who is that boy and what is his name? Answer me," Agent Charles ordered.
Vernon struggled against the restraints to no avail. "He…is our nephew. We took the fr – him in for nothing out of the goodness of our hearts. His name's Harry Potter."
Agent Rory kneeled at the cupboard. "Harry? Can you come out?" The only answer he got was a few sobs. "Please. I promise your safe with us." No response.
"Harry. Come out now," Agent Charles said, his voice harsher than the other agent's.
At that, Harry did not dare disobey and exited the cupboard, before backing into a corner. Agent Rory slowly trudged over to the boy on his knees, carefully to not frighten him. The boy had scars all over his arms, and bruises on his neck and face…just like Severus did decades ago. He had learned a lasting lesson from Severus's case. "Alright Harry," he spoke gently, "I promise not to harm you in any way. You are not a freak, first of all. Your uncle lied to you and he hurt you, but you did not deserve it. He is going to be arrested or charged, but I promise you, we will do everything we can to get you out of here. But we can only do so if you cooperate. Do you understand me?"
Harry trembled as he listened to the man in front of him. He did not want to trust the agent, yet he did not dare disobey. After glancing at Uncle Vernon, he decided that he had no choice and replied quietly, "Y-Yes sir."
"Good, Harry," Agent Rory praised as he stood. "Here, I can help you get up." He offered the boy a hand and inwardly sighed as Harry flinched away from him and quickly got up himself.
"I'll bring Dursley and his son into the car," Agent Charles spoke in a gruff tone.
"Do just that," Agent Rory nodded in satisfaction. "Follow me, Harry," he told the youth, careful not to address him as boy in case he scared him. Rory walked towards the living room, Harry behind him keeping a wary distance.
Agent Rory plopped down on the middle of the couch, inviting Harry to sit next to him. The boy just shook his head and backed away, clearly frightened. "Why not?" the man asked.
Harry gulped. Why didn't the man understand? He was a freak and was only allowed to sit on the floor. If he obeyed the agent, he would be breaking rule number one – know your place. Uncle Vernon would kill him. "F-Freaks aren't allowed to sit on furniture, sir," he whispered, quietly but firmly.
"I assure you, Harry, you are not a freak," the agent shook his head.
Harry remained silent at that, not daring to contradict the man. "Please, don't make me," he pleaded weakly.
"Would you sit on the floor then?"
That he was allowed to do. Nodding, he lowered himself on the floor, wincing as his sore backside made contact with the ground, but otherwise gave no reaction. His eyes widened, though, when he saw the man also sit down with him. "S-Sir?" Harry stammered. Why was the agent sitting on the floor like him? The man wasn't a freak, he had to sit on the couch. Oh, he was going to receive a horrible beating from his uncle when he found out, for making someone normal be like a…a freak.
"If you sit on the floor, I sit on the floor," came the agent's simple answer. "Now, let me tell you a true story."
Harry's eyes widened even further, if that was even possible. Nobody had ever personally told him a story before, much less a true story. Uncle Vernon only told Dudley fake stories, like superheroes. For once, he would experience something good that Dudley never did. "Y-Yes sir!" he agreed, unable to keep his joy out of his voice.
"There was this boy, many, many years ago, who was treated much like you. His name was Severus Snape, if I remember correctly. Severus's father, who was often drunk, hated him, and beat him harshly. His mother was also hurt when she tried to protect him. Then one day, the father killed Severus's mother, and he started hurting Severus even more badly. Severus believed he was a freak and worthless, much like you do, until finally one day, his teacher called the cops and we arrested his father. He went to live with his neighbor, and now, hopefully, Severus lives happily," the agent explained smoothly. "Can you relate to this?"
Harry devoured up the story, feeling sorry for the boy in the story. "Severus" probably didn't do anything to deserve what he got, and in the end, it turned out he wasn't a freak at all. But, Harry thought, Uncle Vernon always said that I am a freak, so I am. However, he could relate to the story. Uncle Vernon disciplined him similarly to how Severus's father beat him. Severus's mother tried to protect Severus, just like Aunt Petunia sometimes tried to protect him, but then ended up getting hurt by Uncle Vernon too. "Yes, sir," he nodded.
"How?" the agent smiled.
Harry cowered at the smile. Whenever someone smiled at him, it meant something bad was going to happen. "I-I'm sorry sir," he panicked. "'M sorry, sir."
The agent's smile disappeared. "Why?"
"F-For whatever I-I did w-wrong!" Harry curled up into a ball. "Sir," he hastily added. The agent was disappointed in him, couldn't he do anything right?
"It's quite alright," the agent reassured the boy. "You did nothing wrong. In fact, I'm quite proud of you!"
Harry quickly looked behind him, to see if the agent was talking to someone else in the room. When he did not see anyone, he flushed and looked down. No one had ever said that to him in his whole entire life before, yet the man had already praised him twice today! That alone spoke volumes to him. "W-Well, s-sir," he began to answer the agent's previous question, "Severus and I were both b-b-bea…d-disciplined real b-badly. I'm a freak and b-burden, he th-thought he was too. And then wh-whoever tr-tried to p-protect us got h-hurt," he finished off sadly, looking down at his scarred hands.
The agent's eyebrows rose at the last statement. "Oh? Who was trying to protect you?"
"Aunt Petunia. Sh-She's always n-nice to me when we're alone, a-and she helps me with my chores, b-but when she tries to be n-nice to me in front of U-Uncle V-Vernon," Harry's eyes darted to the front door, as if making sure that it was closed, "then he h-hits her." He felt a wave a shame flood through him as he repeatedly thought, Aunt Petunia gets hurt because of you, you good-for-nothing freak! "P-Please don't a-arrest her!"
"If what you just said was true, then I swear I won't," the agent promised. "Speaking of your aunt, where is she?"
"She's b-buying the groceries so I don't have to," Harry replied. At the agent's strange look, he stammered, "I-I'm sorry I'm u-useless! Sh-She offered to go, e-even though U-Uncle V-Vernon said th-that I should," he finished off faintly. Suddenly, he flinched back as he remembered his uncle's words, respect those better than you! He forgot to address the man as sir! "Sir! I'm sorry, sir!"
"No need to fret, Harry. You have been exceptionally good today. Once your aunt gets back, we will interrogate her and take her with your uncle and cousin."
Harry was about to protest at that, when the agent raised his hand, causing Harry to shrink back. The agent frowned, and continued, "So that on court, she can fight against your uncle and divorce, press charges, maybe get him arrested, if she would like to do so. Meanwhile, you will be placed into a foster care, and if Petunia remains your guardian after the trial, then you will return to her."
Harry nodded rapidly in understanding. "Yes sir." He knew that he would be a very bad person to wish someone would get put into jail, but as hard as he tried, he could not help but think that for his uncle.
"Now, how about you tell me more about your life? Start with…the Dudley boy, I suppose," the man shrugged.
Harry paled as he thought about how he would be breaking rule number two – never tell anyone. If Uncle Vernon somehow, through his influential ties, managed to win in the law court…he was doomed. Apparently, his fear was shown on his face, since the agent spoke. "If you're afraid of your uncle, don't be. I'll make sure that your aunt realizes that she has rights, and then I'd be certain that your aunt will protect you. If she doesn't, I will, Harry. Don't worry."
Tears sprang to his eyes at those words. This was the most anyone had ever cared for him before, apart from Aunt Petunia in secret. "Th-Thank you, sir," he whispered. Then he launched into an explanation of his home life, his eyes darting nervously to the door and windows every few seconds.
Agent Rory listened on with growing fury as the tense boy stammered through his statements, explaining how he was bullied, beaten, and starved for many years, and how his aunt was repeatedly threatened by his uncle. As the boy was telling him about his chores, a woman walked in, before freezing at the sight before her. "Harry!" she gasped. "What is the meaning of this?"
Harry opened his mouth, but could not find a way to answer. His eyes flickered to the agent and back to Aunt Petunia.
"We received a child abuse complaint," Agent Rory spoke up, observing the woman for a few moments. The color drained from her face. The woman – Petunia – seemed like she had a few scars on her face, expertly hidden by makeup. Agent Rory's lips thinned, and he continued, "As a matter of fact, your son, Dudley, called the police, claiming he was abused."
Petunia laughed wearily. "Abused? Vernon would never harm his only son," she said, looking at the agent with eyes that only had a bit of life in them.
"We figured that out pretty quickly," Agent Rory nodded. "Harry explained everything to me, so you're safe. However, if you wish to divorce or press charges on him, you must come with us."
Petunia nodded grimly. "I understand," she said. She had considered leaving Vernon since he started revealing his true colors, but she stayed because custody of Harry and Dudley would immediately fall to him, as she would have no means to support herself. Now, she might finally have a chance to be free.
"What will happen to Harry? I don't have anybody I can trust enough to keep him. Vernon's sister, Marge, can take care of Dudley, but she absolutely despises Harry. My brother...I don't know where he lives." Of course she did, but she could not straight away tell him that he lived in a magical castle called Hogwarts.
"Then I believe we must temporarily put Harry in foster care," Agent Rory stated.
They were driven to the police station, and after being interrogated for an hour, Vernon was taken into custody and Dudley was sent to Marge Dursley's house. Petunia refused to leave until Harry's situation had been sorted out, and even requested to go with Harry to his new foster home.
Finally, the address of a man who had offered to foster children was given to them. Spinner's End, huh, Petunia thought. That place is really close by. She didn't think about it any further, though, and they drove away to the house.
Severus Snape was nervous. Dumbledore had applied him for a foster care job over the summer, thinking that more experience with children would do him good. But children were not his thing! Not to mention the Statute of Secrecy! There was a ninety-nine percent chance that he was going to get a Muggle child. Obliviating children was always risky. Well, his home being a Muggle home made things less discoverable, but still...
He just received his first call, saying an abused and neglected eight-year-old boy was coming into his care temporarily because his family was going to court.
How on earth could he deal with an abused child? His mere presence even scared some of the toughest seventh years, and here he was expected to take care of a child and not frighten him?! That was going to be difficult. Yes, he knew how horrid abuse was, and maybe dealing with abuse victims would soften him up… Preposterous, the greasy-bat of the dungeons going soft over a child! He would try, yes he would, but due to his rough childhood, he had a tendency to become aggressive and intimidating. And what if the child saw his wand, or potions, or saw his robes? Or saw a flying owl deliver a message? Or saw the floo flare up? He had to be extra careful with a non-magical being now living in his own house.
He sat on a sofa, clearing his mind and relaxing in order to prepare himself, when a knock broke him out of his trance. He jumped up. This was it. And he was going to mess everything all up. Oh Merlin, one wrong move, it could mean the boy's future, the boy's life, the wizarding world secret, or Dumbledore's disappointment! Severus braced himself while chanting, Dumbledore trusts me. Everything's going to be fine. Dumbledore trusts me. Everything's going to be fine. Dumbledore trusts me. Everything's going to be fine. After taking a deep breath, Severus unlatched the door and swung it open.
Outside stood two formal looking agents – they seemed oddly familiar, a woman (who awfully looked like Petunia…but it couldn't be), and a young boy, who also looked familiar and had striking green eyes. Like Lily. Severus pushed her out of his mind. "Do come in," he invited, trying not to act too cold or snarky.
After closing the door behind him, he stuck out his hand, first to the agents, and introduced, "Severus Snape."
After that statement, there were four gasps around him.