The Hundred Acre Wood
Disclaimer & Warnings: See chapter 1
Timeline: Wednesday, July 31st, 1991, early evening
Chapter 4 – Meanwhile, back at the Castle
"Albus, I'm telling you for the last time - SOMETHING'S WRONG. I know it and I'm worried. Today's the deadline for the first years to return their acceptance letters and I haven't received one from Harry Potter. I've sent letter after letter, and he hasn't replied to any of them! Tell me honestly, when was the last time you checked on the boy?"
Minerva McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, glared at the complacent old Headmaster with definite ire in her eyes throughout her rant.
"I'm sure there's nothing to be alarmed about Minerva my dear, his reply's probably on its way as we speak," the Headmaster reassured her.
"More likely he didn't think the deadline applied to him," Severus Snape the Potions Master snorted.
"I'm sure it's nothing of the kind Severus, he's just unfamiliar with Owl post."
"But I used muggle post as well, and I still haven't heard from him," Minerva pressed.
"If it will make you feel any better to know, Severus and I are already planning to call on young Mr Potter and his family later this evening - to answer any questions he or his guardians may have."
Severus' right eyebrow rose. This was the first he'd heard of that plan. However, it was most likely why the Headmaster summoned him and requested him to bring a vial of one of his potions.
Dumbledore rose from his desk and gently guided his Deputy Headmistress towards the door as he talked. "Do be sure to let me know if you've any other concerns, but for now I must be getting back to my other duties."
Minerva fumed as she found herself outside of Dumbledore's office with the door closed firmly behind her.
"I told him not to leave that baby with those muggles. I watched them for a full day and they were the worst sort of muggles imaginable!" the Headmistress muttered disparaging remarks as she stormed down the stone staircase past the gargoyles guarding the entrance. It wasn't until she crossed the foyer in front of the Great Hall that it dawned on her that the Headmaster had once again deftly avoided answering any of her questions.
Albus Dumbledore stood for the longest time looking thoughtfully at the door that he'd just closed on his Deputy Headmistress. It wasn't that he didn't share her concern. It was just that he didn't have any answers for her. However, he did intend to get them.
"Severus, I didn't want to upset Minerva any more than she already is, but I must admit I'm a bit worried about young Harry myself," the twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes dimmed as he turned to address his Potions Master. "I'm sure there's nothing wrong. After all, he's with his family, and the wards haven't given off any warnings in the past ten years. Nevertheless, I'd appreciate you accompanying me to the Dursleys - just in case. They're expecting us for dinner."
"I gathered that was your plan for this evening," Severus Snape replied dryly. "However, do you really think it necessary to take 'backup' to an interview with an eleven-year-old? I'm sure it's just a case of the Boy Wonder's holier-than-thou attitude. He was probably just too busy being pampered to bother with common courtesy. It's also quite possible he simply doesn't want anything to do with this world. I'm sure Petunia hasn't painted us in a favourable light. Besides, I've plans of my own tonight."
"Perhaps, perhaps," Dumbledore conceded, but still giving the Potions Master a sharp look.
"No perhaps about it in my opinion."
"I do hate to impose on you," Albus forged on, ignoring the younger man's obvious disagreement with this claim, "but I'd feel better checking on him myself. I'd consider it a personal favour if you'd accompany me. Shall we depart? We'll be flooing to Arabella Figg's."
"If I must," Severus sighed, thinking longingly of the cauldrons he left simmering far below in the dungeons.
"We must."
Turning to the massive stone fireplace, Albus tossed in a handful of floo powder and called out 'Arabella Figg's, Magnolia Court, Surrey' then disappeared into the green flames. Severus followed close behind.
"Arabella my friend, how nice to see you again. It's been far too long," Albus Dumbledore greeted the mousy woman with a congenial smile as he stepped across her hearth.
"It's about time you showed up Albus," Arabella started in on him before he could even brush the soot off his robes. "I only agreed to do this as a favour for you to begin with, so I don't know why you've been avoiding me for an entire decade! Did you finally read my reports?"
"Reports? What reports?"
"I've been sending monthly reports to the Ministry ever since I got here telling them there's no one here for me to watch, except for those appalling muggles in Number 4, of course. It's about time I got a new assignment."
"Whatever are you talking about my dear?" Albus probed, the twinkle disappearing once again as his eyes grew steely. "I didn't come to give you a new assignment. Severus and I came to check up on Harry. Does there seem to be a problem with the boy?"
"Problem? You might say that. It's only what I've been saying every month for a decade!" Arabella replied with exasperation, "Harry Potter isn't at Number 4 Privet Drive."
"What do you mean not there? Have the Dursley's taken him on Holiday?" Albus questioned, not able to comprehend what the woman was telling him.
"The Dursley's aren't on Holiday and they haven't taken him anywhere. He's not there to take," Arabella said with annoyance over her frustration at being ignored.
"But I left him with his relatives myself. Hagrid and Minerva were with me when I did. Harry has to be there. The wards the ministry set up have never gone off saying he was missing."
"I don't know what the ministry's telling you, all I know is what I've been telling them - that I've never seen so much as a single hair on his head anywhere in this neighbourhood, nor seen so much as a glimmer of accidental magic about."
"Could you be mistaken?"
"No, I'm not Albus. The only child living at Number 4 Privet Drive is Dudley Dursley. I've pried every chance I've gotten to be sure. I even joined Petunia's Garden Club to have an excuse to nose around closer, but those horrid people have never mentioned Harry at all. In fact, I've some newspaper clippings here somewhere that might be of interest to you, according to them…" Arabella started rummaging through her bookshelf.
"So your precious Golden Boy has flown the coop?" Severus interrupted with a slight upward curve of his lips, "then we might as well be on our way back."
"Not so fast Severus," Albus put a restraining hand on the Potion Master's arm as he moved to step into the fireplace and return to Hogwarts. "If Harry isn't with the Dursleys, we must find out where he is. He's destined to save our world. We must locate him. As long as we're here, let's call on his relatives as planned and see what we can find out. There must be a logical explanation for his absence."
"I find that logic and suburbia rarely mix," Severus said drolly.
"Be that as it may, we'll hope to find some anyway. Now, since we're in a muggle neighbourhood, we should change into something less noticeable." With a wave of his wand, he transfigured their wizard robes into muggle business suits.
"Not very comfortable Albus," Snape said with disdain. How he hated wearing muggle attire - so confining.
"Well now, that isn't the purpose, is it Severus?" Albus replied, his eyes once again dancing at the younger wizard's obvious displeasure. "Since we're investigating, perhaps a change of countenance would be appropriate as well." From one of his numerous pockets, he pulled two vials of polyjuice potion, drank one and handed the other to Severus.
"My, my, illegal potions Headmaster?" Severus remarked only slightly surprised.
"Less illegal than exposing the magical world."
"Is there such a thing as being 'less illegal'?"
"Are you going to drink it or not?" Albus asked impatiently at the questioning. Then to cinch compliance he threw in a not so subtle reminder of whom they were about to visit, "Or perhaps you wouldn't mind Petunia Dursley remembering that you're past acquaintances."
Severus glared and downed the potion in one shot. His black, lanky hair immediately shortened and turned a dark auburn, his sallow cheeks plumped and his dark eyes lightened to a golden brown. Albus' own blue eyes had turned dark brown and his long grey beard into a neatly trimmed goatee.
"And just whom am I supposed to be?" Severus asked, glancing in Arabella's hall mirror and not recognizing the face staring back. He hated it when the Headmaster sprung little surprises like this on him. What's more, Albus obviously suspected ahead of time that they might need a Polyjuice potion since he came prepared with it. It wasn't exactly something that one normally carried about in their pockets. That being so, Albus certainly could have warned him of the fact before they left Hogwarts. If he'd known, he would've worn his own 'appropriate attire'.
"A very nice chap I met on holiday in Germany. No need to worry, I doubt if he's ever travelled through Little Whinging. Moreover, it's a small dose. It shouldn't last but through dinner."
"Fine. However, I really don't see why all the fuss. One less Potter in the world can't be a totally bad thing," Severus snarled as he stomped out the front door and down the walk. "The sooner we get this started, the sooner it'll end."
"Wait! I found the newspaper clippings! Don't you want to read them before you go?" Arabella interjected when she could finally get a word in edgewise.
"We'll return Arabella, don't you worry," Dumbledore patted her arm placatingly before following the younger wizard out the door.
"Worrying is all I've been doing for the past ten years you old goat," Arabella muttered at the departing duo's backs, "Now it's your turn."
As Severus stormed down the street to Number 4 Privet Drive, he sneered in derision at each manicured lawn and flowerbed he passed. Despite growing up in a half muggle home himself, or perhaps because of it, muggle suburbia was appalling to him in general. However, the house at Number 4 simply oozed conformity to an unheard of degree. Each blade of grass and flower petal was so precise it looked positively plastic. It wasn't just a crime against nature - it was a crime against the very fabric of the universe.
"It's so… unnatural! How can they live like this Albus?" Severus asked as he purposely snapped the neck of a hydrangea bloom as he passed by, leaving it dangling on the stem to add a smidgen of disorder to the artificial scene. "By the way, you said the Dursleys are expecting us. Do they know the reason for our visit?"
"I thought under the circumstances, it'd be best to go in, as the muggles say, 'undercover'. Mr Dursley may believe that we're here to discuss something he calls a 'drill'. How he came to that conclusion, I really have no idea," the old wizard shrugged with an air of innocence. "Oh, and Severus, don't be surprised if I introduce you as Mr Brown and myself as Mr White."
"So creative of you," Severus snarled with ill humour. This was just getting better and better.
"During the interview with the Dursleys, I'd appreciate it if you left the questioning to me. I know how impatient you can get with niceties at times and the utmost diplomacy is called for in this instance. From what I recall of Lily's sister Petunia, she wasn't fond of our world. She wanted desperately to attend Hogwarts with her sister, and even wrote me a letter requesting admittance. Alas, I had to turn her down. I did it as gently as I could. Nevertheless, I'm afraid she wasn't happy with the decision."
"Imagine that, a woman who doesn't take rejection well. Will wonders never cease," Severus observed sarcastically. From what he could remember of Petunia, he would've been surprised by any other reaction.
"Severus behave," the old wizard admonished him.
They approached the front door and Albus rang the bell. The door swung open to reveal an extremely large beefy man with an oversized moustache, which made him look somewhat like a walrus. Behind him, a tall, thin horse faced woman with blond hair and watery hazel eyes peeked over his shoulder. By the man's side, a smaller version of the walrus was crammed into a powder blue suit. It was Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursley in the flesh, and in the case of the males, quite a lot of flesh.
Vernon was almost as wide as he was tall, but it wasn't flab adding to his girth. His large muscular frame, combined with the fact that his head sat directly on his shoulders, as if he had no neck at all, made him a very imposing figure. Vernon Dursley looked like a man who always got what he wanted, and was capable of taking it by force if necessary to get it. His face was a florid red and had an overly exaggerated smile plastered on it to greet his guests.
'So this is Vernon Dursley, the love of Petunia Evan's life, the one that she raved about to Lily in all those letters,' Severus's eyebrow quirked at the memory. 'No wonder she doesn't look like a happy woman.'
"Come in, come in!" Vernon invited as he gestured them into the foyer with a wave of his meaty hand.
Through the closed door, Boy's sharp ears picked up Sir's hearty welcome to the unknown dinner guests. He'd trained himself to listen carefully for any sound The Family might make anywhere in the house, just in case it was an order for him to perform them a service. He didn't want to be accused of laziness if he could avoid it. With practice, he'd become fairly good at deciphering most of their intelligible mumblings.
"Dinner's already on the table. The little woman's been working her pretty fingers to the bone in the kitchen all afternoon. Why don't we go ahead and sit down before it gets cold?"
"The aromas are utterly tantalizing! May I escort you in to dinner?" a warm melodic chuckling voice invited. Boy could almost hear the twinkle in the words. Accompanying the first voice was a second one that made a small derisive snort at the first man's obvious smoozing compliment.
Albus extended an arm to the simpering woman to lead her down the hallway after her husband and son, leaving the younger wizard conveniently bringing up the rear, which gave him the opportunity to look around. After a moment Severus followed the others, while unobserved, he held his wand in his hand and quietly muttered an 'Invenio Locus Potter' spell under his breath.
Boy could feel Sir's heavy footsteps in the hallway as they passed his cupboard on the way to the dining room. Following Sir's heavy tread was the slow and lumbering one of Cousin, after which came Ma'am's quick staccato beat. Then Boy could feel two more sets of footfalls. The first was steady paced and deliberate - walking with Ma'am. The last set was more furtive and Boy held his breath as those footsteps seemed to pause right outside his little door.
It was such a small doorway, tucked back under the stairs. Unless you stooped down low and knew exactly where to look, it was virtually invisible and easily overlooked - the cracks around the door flush with the wall, following the wallpaper pattern and contour of the stairs so exact it was as if the seam didn't exist, just like Boy.
'I don't exist… I don't exist… I don't exist.'
Severus paused near the stairs puzzled. For a moment, he thought the wand was starting to point to something, but he must've been mistaken for now it was just slowly spinning in a circle on the flat of his palm.
'Maybe Arabella was right,' Snape thought, worry creasing his brow for the first time since Albus mentioned the Potter boy earlier that day. 'Albus will not be pleased.'
Since the Family's steps sounded just as The Family looked, it made Boy wonder what the people looked like that went with the new sounding steps. Sir and Ma'am had never allowed him to be anywhere that guests to their home might see him, and since they didn't trust him not to peek, that usually meant when anyone arrived they locked his door. Sir and Ma'am had told him that this was by order of someone named Dumbledore, the same Dumbledore who had left him there to be their slave, the same Dumbledore who had told them he wasn't supposed to exist.
Boy didn't know who Dumbledore was but he knew that as much as he was curious to meet someone who was real, anyone other than The Family, he knew that Dumbledore was the one person he never wanted to meet. Ever.
"Please, please take a seat, make yourselves comfortable," Vernon Dursley urged his guests as he guided them to the chairs around the elegantly set dining table. As soon as they were settled, he began dishing up generous amounts of mouth-watering food on their plates. "My Petunia's an award winning chef, so this should be quite a treat," he beamed at them.
'They won't be leaving tonight without signing a contract!' he chortled silently.
Vernon prided himself on being a shrewd judge of character, and he could tell just by looking at the two men in front of him that these were gentlemen who could seal the deal. They wore expensive tailored suits and had an air of authority and power. From what he'd gathered when Mr White made the appointment, they were from Scotland and headed up a prestigious institution in that region. He didn't quite catch its name, but did it really matter? Over small talk, he started salivating at the thought of the large order of drills he intended to sell them. The bonus alone would clinch the down payment on the vacation home in Majorca that Petunia had been eyeing.
Nevertheless, no matter how promising the onset, the dinner dissolved into an odd experience for the Dursleys.
As host, Vernon Dursley did his best throughout the meal to entertain his prospective clients with funny golfing anecdotes carefully prepared for the occasion. Although, as neither man seemed familiar with the intricacies of the game, his well-rehearsed punch lines fell flat. As the hostess, Petunia attempted to cover up the awkward moments by trying to push more food on her husband's guests than what they were willing to eat.
Much to Vernon's frustration, Mr White kept turning the conversation to discussions of family life and children, instead of talking business. Mr Brown, on the other hand, said nothing at all. He just sat there, staring disturbingly at them with those strange coin coloured eyes as if he could read their minds.
It was all quite disturbing.
At the end of the meal, Dumbledore leaned back from the table and surveyed the family of three. Petunia was as dissimilar to her younger sister Lily, as night is to day. Where Lily had been vibrant, caring and generous, Petunia was washed-out, callous and self-centred. Vernon Dursley, besides his imposing bulk, also had an imposing personality with mannerisms to match. In addition, the way their greedy son shovelled food down his throat it was putting him well on his way to out-sizing his father. Together the three made up the very description of muggles that Voldemort and his followers touted as the justification for killing as many of them as possible.
'What was I thinking?' Dumbledore wondered, 'Minerva warned me that they were the worst sort of muggles imaginable. She's always had good instincts. Why didn't I listen to her? Why didn't I fight against the Ministries plan harder? Why am I asking why now? What's done is done, and right now I'd better get on with this before Severus has a conniption fit.'
"Dinner was delightful my dear. Thank you for going to all this trouble. May I be so bold as to call you Petunia?" Dumbledore reached out to raise Petunia's hand, and kissed the back of it.
"Why yes, please do," Petunia giggled and gushed at the praise. "It was really no trouble at all. Anything for important clients of my Vernon. Please have some more roast and potatoes you've hardly touched anything at all."
"Oh, I couldn't possibly eat another bite. However, it was excellent. Don't you agree Mr Brown?"
Severus quirked an eyebrow at the old wizard as if to say 'I thought you told me to keep quiet' but he seized the opportunity to throw a few barbs at Petunia for Lily's sake.
"Since you asked, I personally found the atypical rosemary seasoning to be superfluous and the vegetables exceedingly al dente. Of course, the injudicious preparations may have been due to the impromptu nature of this amusing little soiree. With adequate notification I'm confident you could aspire to evolve into quite a conventional cook."
Petunia frowned, unsure if Mr Brown was complimenting or criticizing, but it suspiciously sounded like a slam and very reminiscent of someone from her childhood who was always putting her down. Someone she'd rather not remember. Dismissing the troubling thought momentarily from her head, she stood and addressed her husband.
"Vernon, would you see our guests to the lounge? They'll be more comfortable in there while I clean up, and I'm certain you've business to discuss. I'll be in with the pudding in a bit."
"Right you are Pet. Shall we gentlemen?"
Vernon lumbered up from the table with some difficulty as he'd had triple servings of everything, and ushered the men back down the hall into the lounge. Dudley trailed behind munching on an after dinner snack he'd made from the last two dinner rolls, butter, and the remaining slice of roast beef he'd grabbed off the platter. Once they were out of sight Petunia unbolted the door to the cupboard under the stairs. Reaching in, she hauled out Boy and shoved him hurriedly into the kitchen before the guests could see.
"What'd you do to the dinner?" Petunia hissed in the child's face, "Mr Brown wasn't very complimentary, and Mr White hardly ate a bite."
"Sor-sorry, Ma'am," Boy stuttered in a submissive tone. He really couldn't think of what he might have done wrong. He'd made several of his finest dishes so he'd been confident the meal would've been well received.
"You'll be sorry all right if Vernon doesn't get a sale tonight. It'll be your fault if the deal falls through. You're worthless. I was wrong earlier - you never do anything right," Petunia backhanded Boy across the cheek and sent him reeling to the floor with the sting. "Get everything cleaned up and be quick about it. Then back into the cupboard before anyone sees you. Remember, no noise, you don't exist."
Boy's eyes darted to the pans stacked in the sink. Ma'am had promised him water and a few bites of food if the dinner went well. Obviously, things weren't going well enough to count on that promise being fulfilled. Nevertheless, he did wonder how well it actually had to go to have at least one bite and one sip.
Ma'am eyes followed his. He'd tried to fool her with that little trick before. Food was all he ever seemed to think about when he should be thinking about his chores. Well, she'd get that idea out of his head immediately. Marching to the sink, she drizzled liquid dish soap over the pile.
"No. Stealing. Food. I'm not going to waste anything on an inhuman little freak like you."
Boy got up, nodded he understood, and then silently began cleaning while Ma'am swept out of the room without a backwards glance, carrying a tray laden with thick slices of the triple layer cake Boy had baked earlier.
With practiced ease, Boy quickly cleared the dining room of all remnants of the meal. Even if Ma'am had allowed him to go ahead and have some of the leftovers, he would have been out of luck. Between Cousin and Master, they'd cleaned the platters. Going down on hands and knees under the table, he searched for crumbs underneath Dudley's chair.
One of Boy's daily duties was to clean up after Cousin. Ma'am was proud of her Axminster carpets and Boy had to keep them clean by hand, plucking up any crumbs before they could be ground into the deep wool pile. As tedious as this sounded, it was one chore Boy looked forward to, as Cousin always left bits of food in his wake. It was the one time Boy was almost sure of getting a morsel to eat. After all, he had to do something with the crumbs didn't he? Moreover, eating them was the quickest way of disposing of the offending bits. He reasoned it wasn't stealing food since the crumbs would otherwise be trash.
Regrettably, though, tonight Cousin seemed to have been using his best table manners with guests present, so Boy found very few crumbs trapped in the pile.
Disappointed, Boy was about to return to his cupboard when he heard someone approaching from the hall. He froze under the table not daring to breathe while he watched a pair of shiny black boots come up and stop just inches from his face. Luckily, the drape of the tablecloth hid him from view. As the boots weren't ones that he'd ever polished before, he guessed that this must be one of the guests. That meant he must be careful not to be seen!
The sleek boots fascinated Boy. He'd never seen shoes like these before. All of Sir's were flat serviceable brown ones with metal toes good for kicking Boy's ribs. Ma'am's had high spiky heels that hurt when she stepped on him. Cousin's were canvas trainers, the best that money could buy, but hard for Boy to keep clean. Cousin liked them though, as they enabled him, even as fat as he was, to catch Boy for beatings.
Boy himself only had one pair of cast off old trainers that used to belong to Cousin. Although Ma'am had thoughtfully dyed them black to match his clothes, they were ill fitting and full of holes, the soles held onto the tops by wraps of tape and twine. Since they were too large for Boy's feet, they continually tripped him, making him easy prey for Cousin. Boy only put them on when he had to work outside in the garden, as they were so big they hurt his feet to wear very long.
The boots of the guest were hypnotic. They seemed to be made of some type of exotic leather that had an iridescent sheen, almost like scales, and the silver buckles had small snakes engraved on them. The lure of the boots was too much for Boy and he was reaching out with one tentative finger to touch them when a small, barely audible hiss left his lips and the little snakes seemed to come alive and hiss back at him.
Trrruuussst himmmm… trrruuussst himmmm litttle one… trrruuussst…
Startled by the snakes, Boy almost made another sound, but caught the gasp in his throat in time.
'Trust him? Trust who?' Boy wondered. 'Did the snakes really talk to me? Could they be… ma-magic? But there's no such thing as magic, it… it isn't… real, Sir and Ma'am said so.'Boy started to tremble in fear and closed his eyes as tight as he could to shut out the sight of the little snakes gliding around the buckles trying to get his attention.
"Most peculiar, I didn't think that muggles could clean that quickly," Severus frowned at the sparkling clean dining room. He picked up the cane Dumbledore had left there on purpose to give him another opportunity to look around unobserved.
The boots moved away and Boy heard the door to the kitchen swing open.
"The kitchen is spotless as well. Petunia couldn't possibly have had time to clean up both rooms and serve desert in the few minutes she was here by herself. It's almost as if a team of house-elves has been at work. However, I don't detect any magic - most peculiar."
As the boots retreated back to the lounge Boy finally relaxed and emerged from his hiding place. Silently, he slipped back into his cupboard, quietly closing the little door behind him.
… almost.
Very curious about the guest with the unusual boots Boy left the little door just slightly ajar so he could listen to the conversation in the lounge. He knew this was breaking the rule that he was to stay tightly closed up in the dark cupboard when not doing chores or being punished, but it wasn't often that the door was left unlocked and the way he saw it he was already in enough trouble, so at this point how could it possibly get any worse? Besides, he reasoned, they just might say what was wrong with the meal he'd prepared so he could avoid the same mistake in the future. It was a learning opportunity.
"May I offer you some pudding gentlemen? I won first place in a baking contest with this recipe. It's one of my Duddykin's favourites," Petunia fawned as she handed the first extra-generous slice to her son as a reward for putting on the powder blue suit.
"Is there a pudding that isn't his favourite?" Severus sneered slightly as he sat down in an armchair next to Albus and declined the cake with a dismissive wave of his hand. The three Dursleys were lined up in a row on the overstuffed couch across from them.
Sensing his disapproval of her darling angel Petunia gave Mr Brown a narrow look. There was something familiar about Mr Brown but she just couldn't put her finger on it. Pushing the unpleasant feeling back out of her head, she turned smiling to address the other guest and handed him the rejected dessert.
"I'm sorry I took so long cleaning up Mr White. Have you and Vernon been having a nice chat?"
"Oh yes Petunia, quite enjoyable. Your husband's been telling us all about drills. It appears as if they can make holes in plethora of objects. Fascinating as that topic is, now that you've rejoined us, there are a few items in particular, I'd like to discuss with the both of you."
"Of course Mr White, what would you like to talk about?"
"First, let me compliment you on what a charming home that you have, and also on this cake. Quite tasty. I can see why you won the contest."
"Why thank you," Petunia simpered.
"Family is of primary importance where we come from, and I can see from the magnificent collection of family photos you have, that you feel so as well," Dumbledore's eyes fixed meaningfully on hers.
"Why yes, we feel family is everything. Isn't that true Vernon?"
"Quite right you are Pet. Family is the backbone of the country."
"Since we're all in agreement on that point, perhaps you can answer a small question that it brings to mind."
"Certainly, certainly," Vernon nodded, making his jowls bounce.
"I have it on good authority that there's another member in your family, a boy, and yet I don't see him represented in these pictures. Can you tell me where he is currently?"
"Another boy? I don't know what you mean Sir," Vernon lied. "We've only the one son - Dudley here."
"And a fine strapping young man to be sure, however, I'm referring to your nephew."
"I don't have a nephew," Vernon said vehemently, his face turning a darker shade of red than normal. "My sister Marge never married. WHAT Sir, are you implying? Are you impugning her integrity?!"
"Nothing of the nature, I assure you Vernon. I should rephrase, I'm referring to your wife's nephew - Harry Potter."
"The name's Mr Dursley to you, Sir, and I want to know the meaning of this! I can see that you took advantage of my hospitality under false pretences. You're not here to discuss a business deal. You're one of those freaks from THAT world, aren't you?! Your type is NOT allowed here. I want you to leave!"
"I do admit that I'm not here to discuss drills, as interesting as they may be. If you were under that impression, it was one of your own making. However, before we do as you request and leave, I must ask again, where is Harry Potter? Not quite ten years ago, we left him with you for safekeeping. Today's his eleventh birthday. He's a young man now and old enough to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Yet we've not received a reply to his acceptance letter, nor does he seem to be anywhere about. As you can imagine, it's a trifle disconcerting."
"If you're so concerned what fate befell that -that thing, why don't you ask that head freak of yours, what he did with him?" Petunia lashed out, "After all, it's his fault what happened, not ours."
"Why, whatever do you mean my dear? What fault are you referring to?" Albus asked, his blue eyes growing cold and hard as twin icebergs.
"You just go back right back to that great pig pimple of yours, and ask Dumbledore what he thought would happen when he left a baby overnight on a cement step in the dead of winter. As I said - IT. WAS. NOT. OUR. FAULT!"
"Wait a minute… you did what Albus?" Severus was finally unable to stay quiet a moment longer, his normally unreadable face in shock. "Did you do what they're saying? Did you just dump a baby on their step and leave without telling them he was there? Were you mad?"
"Albus? You're Albus Dumbledore?" Vernon yelled his face turning purple with rage. "OUT! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE NOW, BOTH OF YOU FREAKS! YOU'RE NOT WELCOME HERE! NO ONE FROM HOGWARTS WILL EVER BE WELCOME HERE!"
Sir's shouting had Boy huddled in the cupboard quaking with fear. Shouting never boded well for Boy no matter who was doing it or to whom it was directed, for the one who always paid the price in the end was Boy. He had thought the day couldn't possibly get worse, but now it was, rapidly.
'Dumbledore is one of the guests? But I've heard his footsteps before, and I didn't hear them tonight. His are quick, not like the two new ones I heard. But Sir says he's there, so he must have come in when I wasn't listening. Why did he come here, and why would the little snakes tell me to trust? They couldn't have meant Dumbledore! I could never trust him. He's the one that gave me to Sir and Ma'am to be their slave. He knows how disgusting that I am. Could they've meant one of the other men?'
Confused, Boy just wished that all the guests would leave, however many of them there were, and leave soon. They needed to quit upsetting The Family!
"Mr Dursley, calm yourself. We'll leave as soon as we have the information we've come for. I wanted to avoid doing this, however, since you insist on being uncooperative…" Dumbledore transfigured the cane into a wand and with a flick of the wrist, sent out ropes to immobilize the three Dursleys.
"There, that's cosy. And we might as well be more comfortable ourselves." With another wave of his wand, the two men's attire changed back into wizarding robes. The timing was impeccable as the polyjuice began to wear off and a few moments later the men's appearance reverted to their former selves.
"Ah, it's nice to be myself again. I apologize for the subterfuge, but I was unsure how receptive you would be to visitors from the Wizarding world. It appears that my hesitation was with some merit as you do seem slightly distressed," Dumbledore explained as he settled back into the overstuffed armchair. "Now, where's the boy?"
When the polyjuice potion ceased shielding the men's identities, there was a flash of recognition in Petunia's eyes. Severus Snape! How dare he come into her home! Petunia clamped her mouth shut against the bitter acid that the sight of him had made to churn up in her throat. The other two Dursleys were in so much shock at seeing the two men transfigure before their eyes that they just sat there with their jaws dropped open, saying nary a word between them.
"Severus if you would please, I think a little Veritaserum will help speed things up, and make things easier for all concerned."
Severus reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial from which he tipped three drops carefully into Vernon's open mouth. A relatively easy task as Vernon was still gobsmacked at seeing rampant magic performed within the walls of his perfectly normal home.
Soon a glassy stare replaced the crazed look in Vernon's eyes.
"What've you done to him?" Petunia cried out in alarm, trying her best to shield Dudley from the same fate with her body, despite being bound.
"Nothing to be alarmed about, it's only a temporary truth serum to ensure cooperation and honesty. I used very little on him so it'll wear off in a few minutes. He's ready Albus."
"Is there a child called Harry Potter currently living in this house?" Dumbledore questioned.
"No," was Vernon's monotone reply.
"Have you ever seen a child called Harry Potter?" Dumbledore asked with more urgency.
"Yes."
"When?"
"The morning of November 2nd, 1981."
"What-what happened when you saw Harry on that day?" Dumbledore's voice was hesitant as if he dreaded the answer.
"My wife found him left abandoned when she went to fetch the milk for our Dudders. The temperature had dropped overnight. The abnormal thing froze to death. Right there on my ruddy doorstep."
Dumbledore's shoulders shook with grief at this last answer. He'd failed what had been his most important task. Petunia was right, it was true, and it was entirely his fault. He'd left a child alone on a doorstep with only a letter, a storybook, and a baby blanket for warmth and protection. How could he have been so neglectful? How could he have been so arrogant when it came to that precious bundle? The saviour of the wizarding world had been defenceless and in his care, and he'd failed.
"You have your answers, now release us and get out of my house!" Petunia spat out with venom.
"Of course Petunia, we'll be leaving now. I do apologize for the intrusion and hope one day you'll be able to forgive this foolish old wizard the heartache I've caused you and your family. My condolences on your loss…"
"Get out you freaks!"
"Severus… will you please take care of our hosts? I really must get some air…"
Severus watched concerned as Dumbledore rose and left the room. He'd never seen his mentor looking so broken and fragile - he seemed to have aged several decades in the last few minutes. He wished he could do something to erase the whole evening. If only he hadn't brewed the Veritaserum himself, he would've been suspicious of Dursley's answers. While he personally could care less if James Potter's spawn had joined his father in the hereafter, he knew that the loss would have far-reaching repercussions in the wizarding world, and to his mentor.
However, it was more than that. Every instinct he had, was telling him that something just wasn't quite right.