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He stared into the distance for a long moment, remembering certain childhood incidences, before cursing and sprinting into the house in a very undignified manner. He'd left his cauldrons unattended!
Damn those brats!
…
As he added hot water, Harry briefly wondered what the man in black was doing. Was he helping other kids like him? Was he still staying in Mrs. Figg's house? Where would he be if he wasn't? At least those questions kept him busy the rest of the day, while he cleaned the kitchen again and again.
Chapter Four
It was nighttime on Privet Drive and everything was still. All of the families on the street were safely locked away in their cookie cutter houses, and even the Dursley family, who loved to stay up late and watch the telly, had gone to bed.
The weather, unusually, was nice and cool, which had prompted Petunia Dursley to leave a few select windows open so that the breeze could flow through the house. None on the ground floor, of course, and none in the master bedroom. Petunia was a busybody and loved to gossip, but she did not condone it in others, and protected her privacy with a vengeance.
Dudley Dursley considered himself to be the most popular kid in his school. He was the biggest, even the bigger kids admitted it now, the tallest of his year, and he had the neatest friends. His pals would go to bat for him in any situation, and they loved to pick on Potter.
Ah, Potter….he hated the freak that his Mum said they had to keep. Potter got all the attention from the teachers, and he always knew the best spots to hide in the neighborhood. It sometimes took hours to find him when they were playing Harry Hunting.
Dudley smiled at the memory of that particular game. He settled further into the covers as his mind went back to a few days ago. Normally, Harry Hunting was restricted to Privet Drive, but with a little inspiration he'd decided to branch out to the other streets. It had made the game a bit easier and a whole lot more fun.
Yawning, Dudley remembered the excitement he had felt, as he had tracked Potter across the neighborhood. He was so busy reliving the memory that he was unaware when he crossed into dreamland.
Sometime later…
A bloodcurdling scream woke Harry out of a deep slumber. Startled, he shot up off his mattress and glanced around wildly in the dark. For this house, it was highly unusual for any sound to be made after midnight, besides the loud snores of Dudley, Vernon, and sometimes (though she would never admit it) Petunia.
Even though the darkness was almost absolute in his cupboard, Harry fumbled on the floor for his pair of glasses. He managed to put them on without gouging out his eye, though it was a close thing, and listened to see what was going on. He didn't have long to wait, for not a moment later, another scream echoed throughout the house.
Footsteps soon began to echo, as both his aunt and uncle left their room to investigate. Thankfully, they weren't placing blame on him, yet, since the sound was clearly from upstairs. Must be Dudley, then. Wonder what happened to him? Another nightmare?
Harry frowned at that. If Dudley had a nightmare, which was pretty rare, then that meant that he was unhappy about something. And if Dudley, the very large apple of his parents' eye, was unhappy, then it usually could be blamed on…
"Boy!" Harry winced as his uncle began to make his way downstairs, the stairs creaking with every step. Above he could hear his cousin sobbing in his room; almost partly masked by his aunt's whispers.
Lovely. Maybe I should start praying now? Or come up with an escape plan?
The cupboard door was unceremoniously yanked open, and it was quickly followed by himself, courtesy his uncle's hand. The hallway was a sharp contrast to the cupboard door, and Harry found himself trying to shield his eyes from the change in light. It didn't really work, however, since his uncle took the opportunity to hold him up in the air and shake him. Hard.
As he became a living piñata, Harry tried to focus on what exactly he had done to make Dudley have a nightmare, but eventually gave it up as a lost cause. Instead, he stared at the moving walls, and waited for the shaking to stop.
Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, his uncle stopped, and gasping for breath, threw him onto the floor. Harry blinked and adjusted his glasses. Warily, he glanced up at his uncle to find himself under a glare that made him want to find a hole and crawl in it. Quickly.
"How dare you!?" his uncle exclaimed, his fist clenched as he loomed over Harry. Confused, Harry cocked his head and waited for his uncle to continue. He knew better than to interrupt.
"How dare you use your freakishness to set off the neighbors on Dudley and give him nightmares?" Harry blinked and then slowly began to scoot back against the wall, all the while keeping an eye out. This was not going to end well. There was no way for him to defend himself from that sort of accusation, because Harry would only be accused of using his freakishness. Whatever that was.
He looks really mad….And I think his face just turned the color of Aunt Petunia's favorite dress.
Things just tended to happen around him. He didn't want them to happen, and he always felt bad about it afterwards (well, almost always), but they still happened. And his uncle blamed him fully. For everything.
"Well, anything to say, boy?" Uncle Vernon growled; teeth bared as he bent down to be eye level with his nephew. Harry mutely shook his head and idly noted that his uncle did bear more than a passing resemblance to a walrus at this moment. Not that he would tell him that. "Of course not, because we both know how guilty you are, boy. So, let's learn our lesson, shall we?" he chuckled.
The sudden mood swing had Harry alarmed. Uncle Vernon mad was one thing, but when he had a mood swing mid-tantrum, well, it was not good. Making a swift decision, Harry leapt up and ran for the door, but only made it a step before he was hauled back by the collar of his shirt.
"And it will be worse for you since you tried to run."
Upstairs, Dudley grinned as he heard the beginnings of his cousin's punishment. This was perfect. The bad dream with the man in black would soon be forgotten, and his cousin would get his just desserts for daring to get extra help in Harry Hunting.
Perfect.
Two days later….
The cupboard was small and it was dark, and right now it was a haven. No one would come in the cupboard, especially now, since it was daylight. While Harry sat in the corner of his cupboard, he could hear constant movement throughout the house as the family prepared for the arrival of Aunt Marge.
Harry scowled as he cradled his arm. He didn't like Aunt Marge. She was loud, looked like a female walrus, and had a nasty dog that liked to chase and bite him every time it came over. Her visits always gave him bad dreams for weeks and weeks. Maybe this time they'll let me stay in the cupboard? Since they're so upset with Dud's bad dream and everything?
Tilting his head, Harry frowned as he heard a murmured conversation start up right outside the kitchen. Must be his aunt and uncle, since Dudley never made noise lower than a yell. They must be talking about what to do with him. It went on for a while, both adults hissing furiously to one another, before he finally heard his aunt walk away. Shortly after, Harry heard his uncle talking, but couldn't make out the words.
Once everything went quite again, Harry lay down and stared at the spiders in on the ceiling of his cupboard. There were quite a few and had taken over each corner. He'd name them like he did when he was younger, if he didn't know that they died off pretty quick. He knew that because he'd looked it up once in the library.
I wonder what they're going to do with me? I hope I don't have to stay here. Maybe I'll go to Mrs. Figg's house? I hate the smell of the cats, but she is really nice. And she does make awfully good sandwiches, with the good lettuce and everything.
The Same Day….
Severus Snape had to say that his 'vacation' was not as terrible as he had initially thought. His potions were all turning out perfectly, as they should, and with the application of several cooling charms the heat was marginally bearable. He'd also finally been given the opportunity to make it through a plethora of his favorite recreational novels, both magical and muggle. Not that he'd ever tell anyone that, of course.
Not many people knew that he had grown up in the Muggle world. He was overly familiar with all of the Muggle contraptions that had been invented, but for the sake of reputation in his house while at school, Severus had pretended the opposite. There had been initial question s in his first year, but after he had used a few not-so-light hexes taught to him by his mother, the questions had ceased.
Severus smirked at the memory as he sat at his temporarily clean desk, recording the notes from his latest experiment. Those first years at Hogwarts had been wondrous. He'd been poor but skilled, and that had helped immensely with his standing in the house. After he'd drawn Potter's attention, however, it had all changed.
Shaking his head, Severus threw the memory away from him. Those days were long past and he preferred to put it all behind him, especially since two of the four were dead, one was missing, and the other was in prison. Ah, karma.
Scratching his nose, he pondered the latest additions to his experiment. He was pondering the addition of another step when he was startled by the sound of the phone ringing. He scowled.
So help me, if that is Mrs. Figg again calling to check up on her 'babies' I will chop them into pieces just to spite her.
Stalking into the hallway, Severus snatched the phone from its cradle. "Yes?" he snapped, hoping that if he was rude enough the caller would hang up and leave him in peace. "This is Mrs. Figg's residence," the caller stated. "Yes, and?" Severus returned.
There was silence for a moment, as if the caller had no clue what to think. Severus propped the phone on his shoulder crossed his arms. He hated idiots. Finally, "Where is she?" Severus rolled his eyes. "She is gone for the majority of the summer." To speed up the call, he added "And I am watching the house. What do you want?"
The caller stammered for a moment, before regaining his courage. "I'm Dursley, Vernon Dursley, and I'm sure you've heard about the brat in our care. Mrs. Figg watches her for us every now and again, and we need the boy to be looked after for a short while."
Any possible amusement that may have existed in Severus vanished. "Potter, you mean?" "Yes," Dursley stated. "Just for a day or so, while my sister's in town. She can't stand the brat."
Severus wished that he could just hang up on the man, but Dumbledore had insisted that he perform his duties while he was here, from feeding the damn cats to watering the bloody plants. And even, it seemed, to babysitting the precious Boy-Who-Lived. He sighed and pinched his nose. The things he had to do….
"When?" he growled, pleased to hear the hesitance in the caller's voice. "Tomorrow." "Fine then, bring him over with whatever supplies he needs. I will watch him for one day only, after that he's your problem."
Severus could hear the smug tone in the other's voice. "Fine then…Who are you, by the way?" Dursley asked. "Her nephew," Severus lied, using the story that had been given to him to explain his presence in the suburb. "Now leave me alone." With that, Severus slammed the phone back into his cradle and stormed back to his desk to regain what little happiness he could before he was forced to babysit.
Too bad I couldn't sit ON the boy. It'd keep his mouth shut and keep me entertained.
End Chapter 4!
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