A/N: This one's a bit short, but as the third chapter's already up, I don't feel too horrible. This chapter travels away from the mildly serious first chapter, instead plunging into absolute, ridiculous fun. Well. I


"Good evening, my dear Professor," came a cheerful voice, abruptly stopping her in the process of attempting to scrape off her tongue. Torn between trying to let the floor swallow her whole, and hauling off and hitting him, she merely settled for turning nine shades off crimson and looking anywhere but Dumbledore.

"I trust you slept well?" He continued mildly. Yes, hitting him was definitely a possibility...

She was saved from her mortification by the door suddenly bursting open, and Snape whirling in, walking in a funny sort of gallop that he always did when trying to make his robes spin, apparently quite forgetting that he had none.

"What do you want?" McGonagall snapped, glad to have someone to glare at.

"Now now, Minerva, children are always supposed to be more agreeable after they've had their naps, aren't they?" Dumbledore asked brightly. But what to hit him with, she wondered…

Snape, for his part, appeared to be slightly embarrassed, and muttered, "I got bored." He waited, aware how sullen he sounded. McGonagall let out a snort.

"Oh, poor Severus, I'm sorry, were you pouting because we sent you to your room?" She asked with a smirk.

Actually, this was not The case. He had been perfectly fine, thank you very much...until he had played with all of Dudley's toys. Then the boredom set in. "I never pout as you so elegantly put it, Minerva," He said sharply, attempting to keep the petulance out of his tone. Surely his youthening in appearance had not changed his maturity levels? "I simply wanted to let you two...lovebirds have some time to yourselves without forcing me to watch." There, that sounded nasty enough.

McGonagall wrinkled her nose in distaste at his comments, but managed not to flush. At least his younger appearance had not lowered his maturity level any. It was still that of an eight year old, as opposed to a six year old. He mouth was open to tell him off, when Dumbleore cut in.

"Ah, yes, well we do appreciate that Severus, thank you." Both of them turned to him so fast, their necks cricked, both looking suitably horrified by what he had said. Fighting a chuckle, he went on. "It was rather good timing of you, as I think Dudley will be back up here any moment to rouse us."

Snape rolled his eyes at this, and again McGonagall was impressed with their ability to stay in his head. "For Merlin's sake, Albus, I don't think we can survive a month of this torture!" He sneered. "I can only imagine how disgustingly sweet they are going to be with the Potter brat around."

"Severus," McGonagall cut in angrily, and Snape was reminded forcibly of her cat form. "Don't you dare-"She broke off abruptly, startled by a dull thud against the door-- though the sound was obviously trying to be muffled-- which creaked in horror at the weight that was pressing down against it.

All occupants of the room stood in baffled silence for a moment before Snape strode quickly across the room, turned the knob, and swung the door open. In fell something that looked like a beached whale, or perhaps just a frighteningly obese child that had just been caught listening in on a private conversation. He stared up at them all, his eyes wide, before opening his mouth.

"Uhhhnnnnnnn..."

"You broke him," McGonagall said to Snape, looking disconcerted. Snape looked from the lump on the floor to McGonagall, to Dumbledore, and back to the lump, appearing vaguely concerned.

"I...I didn't break him!" He finally spluttered indignantly. Dudley continued to open and close his mouth like a wounded guppy fish. He wasn't so sure...

Dumbledore just smiled benignly, going over to the boy, his eyes twinkling kindly. "Oh, hello, young master, so nice of you to come and get us for dinner. Are you quite alright?"

Dudley, it appeared, did have a brain, even if its size was rivaled by that of Crabbe or Goyle's. He quickly rolled to his feet, his legs shaking under his own weight. All three were glad he had accomplished this on his own, as they didn't think they could have managed it themselves, even between the entire trio. One does not simply pick up a baby elephant, after all. "I, uhm...tripped," he said lamely, his nasal tones forced from his body in a wheeze of air. Even Dumbledore cringed.

He recovered himself quickly, however, putting his senile expression back into place and nodding amiably. "Of course, of course." He shot a warning look at Snape (He sometimes wondered if the man was aware he had a tick in his left cheek) and gave McGonagall a commiserating glance.

Dudley was frowning at them, peering up in such a way that suggested he was either concentrating extremely hard, or had a bad case of constipation. "Why were you calling him Severus?" He asked McGonagall, in a tone that might have suggested shrewdness but for the emptiness in his eyes.

"That is...my middle name," Snape intoned rather quickly, his voice unnaturally smooth. "How long were you out there?" His tone was cold enough that even Dudley knew not to lie.

"O-only for a sec-c-cond," Dudley mumbled. "I t-tripped when I got to the door."

At Snape's dismissive nod, Dudley wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Severus is a gross name."

'And you are a disgusting child' was the unanimous though silent response.

"Is...dinner ready, then?" McGonagall managed to say, careful to keep the noise of her grinding teeth to a minimum. They had been in this house less than twelve hours, and already she was questioning her sanity. At least the brainless blob hadn't heard anything more.

"Uhh..." Dudley thought for a moment, his face contorted in concentration. Picasso would not have done so well. "Yeeeaaahhhh..." he finally glubbed out, not sounding very sure. Apparently finding his job finished, he turned without formalities, and waddled out of the room, turning sideways to get through the door.

Three dread-filled people were left in his considerably wide wake, glancing at one another in horror of what was to come. Dinner. A collective shudder ran around the room.

"We are going to have to more careful," Dumbledore said after a moment.

Snape could hardly contain the 'Duh!' he wanted to respond with, instead nodding tightly, as did Mcgonagall. "I agree, Headmaster," He began smoothly.

"It was foolish to speak my true name so loudly, if anyone really cares to keep up this charade. Which, I might add, I have no wish to-"

"Severus, do everyone a favor and be quiet," McGonagall snapped, irritated at her slip. "Or throw yourself out the window for that matter! Then we could declare it a national holiday."

Snape fought the sudden urge that welled up inside him to stick his tongue out and waggle his hands beside his ears. "Dinner then," He snarled finally, stalking darkly out the door. "And you are sitting beside that little Muggle horror tonight, my dearest mum," He snarled over his shoulder, smirking in revenge. One Dudley was always word a thousand words. (Or pounds, as it were.)

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dinner was an unsurprisingly horrible affair, as was breakfast and all the meals for the next four days. Vernon got more drunk at dinner than he did at lunch, Dudley and his mother got into a screaming match over his diet ("But I'm starving Mum!" And then "Oh my poor Duddikins! My Poor baby is dying! But I can't!" and the always refreshing "Oh Merlin, I'm gong to go make myself the most lethal potion I can. The only question is who to off first: them, or me?")

There was also a liberal amount of touring, Vernon explaining in an importantly loud voice that he had taken a whole week off for them to do a large bit of site seeing (Dumbledore found this particularly boring, as he had been around when some the sites had been built) and that he wouldn't be able to take any more time off after this. ("Pity" Snape sneered as innocently as he could.)

They finally reached that Saturday evening (having arrived on Tuesday), more than a little shocked to find themselves in one (if not bedraggled and jittery) piece. Snape was on the verge of swearing to be nice to the painful nuisances he had to teach, if only to get out of this nightmare. In between bouts of stricken panic due to nerves, McGonagall had a vague hope they would stay here long enough for him to actually make the statement. Even Dumbledore was beginning to seem unintentionally barmy. And still, there was no sign of Harry.

"Ye Gods," Snape moaned, Slumping into a heap on Dumbledore and McGonagall's bed that Friday night. "The entire bloody afternoon, touring King's Cross of all things. Don't think even Binns could have stretched the bloody thing out that long!"

Shoving him off unceremoniously, McGonagall curled up at the head of the bed, leave Snape in a dejected heap at the foot. "Ye Gods yourself, you ignorant sod, at least you didn't have to walk the entire thing with high-heels on," she snarled irritably. "Idiotic Muggle fashions should be outlawed. I would dearly love to know what disease is eating away at the minds of Muggle women these days…"

Dumbledore seemed oddly refreshed and just smiled at them, telling them to shut it before he hexed them both. (OK, so 'refreshed' was a bit of a relative term now) "It really wasn't the worst day we've had. At least young master Dudley was unable to accompany us."

Snape snorted derisively, feeling that having the moron around might have at least provided a bit of entertainment. (He made no move to rise from his new spot on the floor during these happenings)

His mouth was open to tell the Headmaster something that was not very nice, even for the 'greasy haired potions master,' but was beat to it by McGonagall.

"Oh get stuffed you insufferable old coot!" McGonagall practically growled. "You're just at peace with the world because you got a lemon drop from one of the train conductors! Where's my bloody lemon drop, eh?"

Dumbledore took a step back from the bed, looking nervous. "Well, if you'll remember, Minerva...he did offer you one..." He began delicately.

"That's beside the point Albus!" McGonagall spat acidly, her stern tone not at all dissipated by her new appearance. Snape watched in amusement, though he remained silent, knowing better than to open his mouth. For once.

Dumbledore began to stroke his goatee, a nervous habit of years ago, watching his 'wife' warily. "Er...Minerva, my dear...you, do not seem to have been sleeping well, my dear. Perhaps..."

"YOU SNORE!" Came the enraged response.

Dumbledore frowned, though he tried to remain complacent. He knew for a fact he did not snore, as Frederick Gethiliad, a portrait on his wall, had congratulated him on the fact not even a month ago. "Minerva...my dear professor, I am afraid you may be mistaken-"He tried, flinching to ward off any blows.

Snape found this amusing enough to let it continue all night, and had no intention of telling anyone the truth about the matter. However, in having this thought, he forgot to remain silent, and let out a snort. Suddenly, the anger of the cat lady was upon him, in all its horrible wrath with...a pillow?

"Aurgh! Minerva, have you lost your mind? bugger off you crazy old bat!" He snarled, trying to ward off the blows. A moment later he considered that a 'crazy old bat' might not have been the best thing to call her, as a particularly violent strike sent him back flat on the floor. He decided quickly to spill he beans. "It's the Dursleys who snore!" he said, his voice rising into a squeak as she hit him in the stomach.

McGonagall stopped, though not of her own free will. Dumbledore had stolen her pillow. Curses, she had been planning to do him in next! Coming to the now constant conclusion that money was a necessary part of life, and small part of her did not really want to do grave damage to him (well...not really) she did not go after her pillow, simply turning to attempt to fry Snape into the ground with her glare, which he would not have protested to at the moment.

"They still keep me up," She grumbled finally, a light blush coloring her cheeks. Truth be told, it was the fact that they had seen hide nor hair of Harry (no pun intended.) since their arrival that kept her eyes open and her mind whirring in the darkness of the night. But she was not about to say so in front of Snape and give the greasy git another chance to insult the boy.

Dumbledore chanced opening his mouth then, surreptitiously placing the pillow behind him as he did so. (It did not do to take any chances after all.) "Yes, I have heard them at night myself, although I must admit I have been losing more sleep over concern for our young Mr. Potter."

Now that he had said it, McGonagall felt free to continue on the vein. "Goddess! Albus, what are we going to do? We have not seen him this entire time, and…and for all we know...he...he could be injured." She didn't dare say dead, though she thought it.

Dumbledore looked grave at this, but Snape just sneered. "Lay off the melodrama, for Morgan's sake, Minerva!" He spat. "Even...even if the boy is locked in that room, which I doubt," he added quickly, seeing the triumphant expression beginning on her features, and determined to stamp that look out like a nasty bug. (Too bad he couldn't actually do that to her face, he mused absently.)

"So you think he's in that thrice damned cupboard, then?" She asked, an unspoken challenge in her voice. Do you hope that?

Snape stared back at her, coldly. "Are you going deaf in your old age, Minerva? For I'm quite certain I said nothing of the sort." He sneered. "At any rate, I hardly doubt he's injured. For all we know, the arrogant prat has asked to be locked in, so he can stay in his own pampered solitude, and not be disturbed by the presence of such insignificant beings such as ourselves." He still though they both had a few spells loose in their heads, worried about stupid, spoiled Potter. There was absolutely no possible way the idiot boy could be as bad off as they thought. It was preposterous, absurd, and too image-shattering for Snape to even consider.

He had no more time for Potter-bashing, however, as the pillow suddenly reappeared from out of nowhere and began beating him soundly around the head. Dumbledore stood dazed for a moment, wondering how she had gotten around him with such speed, before remembering to pull them apart. "Enough, you two, enough!" He said sternly, managing to once more procure the once innocent household item from McGonagall's deadly grip. "I have had quite enough of your bickering! As I have explained more than once- more than dozen times, we can do nothing and your inane, childish bickering is doing nothing to help Harry, whatever state he is in, and even if he is not requiring our help," he continued dangerously when Snape opened his mouth.

Dumbledore glared soundly at the two of them for a moment, pondering how it seemed more like he had two children than a spouse and a son at the moment. (Both of whom were now stock still and pin-drop quiet.) Finally, he turned to Snape and said calmly, "Goodnight, Severus."

Snape stared at him for an uncomprehending moment, before nodding dumbly. "Er...right." and leaving, forgetting to open the door on his first try out into the hall.

Dumbledore then turned back to a now chagrined McGonagall, who was studying the dull carpet with extraordinary interest. "Minerva?" He ventured quietly after a moment, pausing to check that he was still standing on the pillow.

"I apologize, Albus," McGonagall said quickly, feeling more than a little foolish for her slip in control. Attacking Severus with a pillow...honestly! The nutcases at Privet Drive were obviously affecting her more than she had realized. Not that the snarky slimeball hadn't deserved it, of course, but still...

She was startled by a gentle pat on her shoulder. "It is fine, my dear." There was silence, and she finally forced herself to meet his eyes. They were twinkling in fondness and that ever present (irritating, but lovable all the same) laughter. "Severus's comments towards Harry are indeed out of line-"

"Too right they are!" McGonagall burst out. Of all her Gryffindors, the Weasley's, Hermione, Harry, and even Neville were her soft spots, but Harry held a particularly gooey place in her heart. "Honestly, that man! Who does he think he-"

Dumbledore cut her off. "However, assaulting him with a pillow is perhaps, not the most agreeable way to silence him, wouldn't you say?"

Again, the carpet became simply fascinating, and she managed to mumble out an, "Again, I apologize, Albus," before the flush in her face turned two shades darker.

Dumbledore gave a little chuckle, patting her warmly on the shoulder again, before gathering his things to go change in the bathroom. "Just so you know, I will be speaking with Severus tomorrow about his behavior. And," he paused in the doorway. "If no significant progress is made in determining Harry's state of being within the next two days, I think some 'accidental discovery' may be in order." And with that, he wandered to the lavatory, leaving McGonagall slightly more at ease than before.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Snape opened his eyes, blinking blearily at the lit numbers of the night table clock. 2:30 in the morning. He was a practiced light sleeper, but he also typically slept through the night if undisturbed. So what had woken him up, then? He had quickly tuned out the Dursley's incessant snoring, so that could not have been it.

He sat up. Surely to God it wasn't Minerva and Albus...? He gagged. Some thoughts were simply too revolting to even entertain, even if he was not entirely against a relationship forming there (if he was really honest with himself, which was rare.).

He sat in the darkness quietly for another three minutes, hearing nothing. Perhaps a Muggle thing then? A car or a Tevlyvisin?

He was about to lie back down when the noise came again. A soft, muffled moan, almost like a whimper. Snape turned pale at that, but quickly realized it was not that sort of moan, but instead...it was one of fear. And pain.

Potter?

He didn't move, his ears straining to hear. At least his spy training was still good for something, even if he was no longer able to fill that position. The Dark Lord had begun to suspect him at the beginning of the summer, and Dumbledore had forced Snape to get out.

It didn't take long for the noise to be heard again, a little louder this time, and then again, louder. After a moment, a "No!" slipped out from the darkness, from a voice full of terror.

Potter?

Finally, Snape did rise, slinking silently to the closed door of his room. His hand was on the knob when he heard it. A shout. "NO! NOOO! STOP! YOU CAN'T!" and then a wordless yell, more like a scream.

Snape was ready to rip open the door, when he heard a door being flung open, and another being yanked ajar, and two figures stumble out into the hallway, one cursing, and the other hushing shrilly. The Dursleys. He stayed where he was.

He heard locks being undone, and decided to ignore the fact that Minerva had been...right. He heard yet another door being shoved open, Vernon still grunting curses as he stormed heavily into a room.

"NOO! SIRIUS! PLEASE, NOT HIM! NO! PLEASE!"

Potter.

And then, there was a dull sort of thud, and silence.


Hmm. Wonder what happened. So sorry we all had to wait three years to find out. My bad. (You know…the kind of bad that starts nuclear wars.) But now? Surprise! a new chapter! No, I mean it. Seriously! Go look for yourself! Oh, and Thanks for Reading!

Goldilocks- AURGH! NO EVIL EYE! IT BURNS IT BUUURRRNNNS ::falls out of chair and dies:: Uh Oh, you killed me. Now you hafta review for another chappie! (ah, the wonders of blackmail...) I appreciate your review more than I can say, as my poor ego actually came out of its musty corner the other day, and quit its dejected whimpering. Thanks so much for the other reviews for my stories, and I'm really glad you enjoyed the first chapter of this fic.

Krys - precisely, my dear, Snape must suffer, but we love him anyway. And, you may suggest just how evil the Dursleys should be, and yes, I hope Snape is very sorry for his misjudgement of Harry. ::Shakes finger at naughty Potions Master:: OK, friend, here's my update...where's yours? And no promises on the puppy dog eyes ::grins::

Tolerancelevels- well, thanks to yours and several other's reviews, I indeed shall go on. There was a bit more sneering in this chapter, but as it was sort of a filler, Snape may have some more...uhh...sneering constipation soon. No pun intended. (Was that even a pun::grins::) Anywho, thanks a lot for the review!

K230156- hmm...I'm not sure I even really had a background story for that in mind, though I could include it if you want it. I would welcome suggestions, and thanks for the encouragement! (Harry's well-being remains rather touchy)

Im so innocent- /slightly/ hooked? Whaddya mean you're only /slightly/ hooked? Hrmph...well, we'll just have to see about that::snickers:: Thanks!

AvengingKitty- You should be proud that yours was the first review that inspired a flame of inspiration in me to continue this work. Thanks so much for the encouragement, as I'm hesitant at stuff like this.

Mara Weaves - thanks for the suggestions, I am seriously considering the Snape/Ash one as the 'ultimate discovery' but I don't know...I am looking forward to the next chapter now too. When will it be out. ::blinks:: What do you mean /I/ Have to write it first? Something seems amiss here... ::winks:: thanks again!

Drop me a line if you find the time, yeah? Thanks!