The hints of purple bruises on the left side of her face made Sirius go cold inside. It was a knee-jerk reaction to go back downstairs and haul off on the bastard who'd made such marks on his goddaughter, and at the same time pull her into his arms and tell her that she was safe, tell her that no one--least of all one of these Dursley pigs--would lay a hand on her again. But he did neither, just fastened a glacial stare at Petunia as he pushed past her and tipped Grace's school trunk up onto its wheels. "Where's your owl?" He asked Grace roughly, not quite managing to keep himself under control.
"She's out." Her response was flat, dead. She hadn't even looked at him. That alone was enough to bring his temper nearly to boiling. It would be a miracle if they made it out of this house without him hitting something, or even better, someone.
"Come on, then." The trunk made loud thunking noises as he dragged it down the stairs, deliberately heedless of the painfully pristine carpet. They had nearly made it into the foyer and out the door when Sirius' luck ran out.
"Oi! Where the hell do you think you're taking her?" Vernon thundered over the television. Grace shrank back against the nearest wall as he bulldozed his way over a small end table to get to them. "She's not going anywhere! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"
"Taking her away from you," Sirius said stiffly, reaching out and pulling open the front door. If this beast of a man did not get out of his way…
"She's not going," Vernon declared, and grabbed Grace roughly by the shoulder as she made to escape out the open door. She made a half choked sob at the grip on her shoulder, his fingers were curling deep under her collar bone where the shoulder joint met.
That was all it took for Sirius to lose his temper completely and without clear warning to the intended victim. Dropping the trunk, he turned and planted a fist solidly into Vernon's jaw, stunning the large man enough to cause him to release his grip. "Don't ever lay a hand on my goddaughter again, Dursley," he said, breathing hard. It was all he could do to keep himself from beating the man within an inch of his life. Dimly, over the sound of blood in his ears, he heard malicious laughter from the vicinity of the stairwell. Flicking his gaze up for an instant, he saw what had to be Grace's cousin standing about halfway down the stairs. "And don't think I don't know what your son has been doing to her either. Neither of you are ever to touch her again."
"Oh, really," Vernon cackled, the shock of someone actually having the balls to hit him starting to wear off. "And what's to happen if I do let the boy get his hands on her again?"
"This." Sirius pointed a long finger at Dudley and after a few seconds, the teen's laughter started to sound very much like braying. Horrified, Vernon turned and got a look at his son. "Lord, no, not again!" Petunia cried, throwing her hands up and fleeing to the sanctity of her kitchen. Where Dudley had stood a moment before, now stood a horrible conglomeration of man and jackass.
"You put him right," Vernon said ominously. "Put him right this instant, or I'll-"
"No more threats from you, Dursley," Sirius said, just as dangerously. He pointed the same finger at the large, purple faced man. "If either you, or your son touches her again, you'll get the same thing. And next time, it will be permanent."