Disclaimer: Don't own it, nope nope nope.
THE BELGUM POTION
Chapter Six: Escaping the Dursley's
"Sirius!" Lupin yelled after his 15 year old friend. "Do I have to put a leash on you!? Sirius!"Sirius Black was running along Diagon Alley, making a complete fool out of himself. Shaking peoples hands and introducing himself, while pulling a few tricks on some others, he was clearly having the time of his life.
Though Remus couldn't blame him... it had been years and years since he could run free without worrying about the Dementors or Ministry of Magic catching him. With his new disguise, not even Harry would be able to tell who he was... he was sure of it.
Sirius was charming a group of female students with his look when Remus came over and grabbed him by the arm. "Excuse me, ladies," he said politely as he lead Sirius away from the group of giggling girls.
"Hey, what's the big idea?" Sirius asked.
"Sirius," Remus rolled his eyes, "they're fifteen year old girls!"
"So? So am I!"
A person who just walked by and heard the last bits of their conversation looked at Sirius very strangely. Sirius called after the onlooker, "A fifteen year old GUY, you idiot!"
"You are twice their age, and you know it," Remus said, ignoring the onlooker and taking Sirius farther away from the crowd. "We didn't get one bit of shopping done because of you, you know. We're not here to socialize or make friends, we're here to get our school supplies."
Sirius grunted. "Your old age made you less fun. You used to be somewhat interesting."
"It's called maturity. Some people do grow up, you know," Remus said as he made his way into a robe store.
"What? I'm mature!"
"No. You're not."
"Yes I am!"
"No, you're not."
"I am!"
"Not."
"AM!"
"Not."
"AM!"
He knew he shouldn't jump to this conclusion, because he's been wrong so many times before, but...
What if Snape was here on Voldemort's orders?
Harry put his head against the wall, listening faintly to Snape's conversation with his Uncle. His eyes blurred slightly as he concentrated fiercly on listening on what was going on downstairs, but he soon found he could not concentrate anymore. His fever... it had gotten worse over the course of an hour. He felt so weak... that dream the night before took something out of him. Something he couldn't explain...
Harry's eyes jetted open as his ears began properly working, picking up a louder part of the conversation downstairs.
"Oh! Well... that must be dinner!" he heard his Aunt say, walking across the hall into the kitchen. He then heard the thumps of his cousin, running behind her.
"Right-o, Petunia! If you will, Mr. McKinley--"
"I will be right with you, sir," he heard Snape say, "but I am in use for your lavatory. If I may be excused."
His heart skipped a beat. Snape... he was about to come up the stairs.
As fast as he could go in his current condition, he ran to his room. He made it only just in time without being seen, shutting the door just when he heard his professor reach the top step.What was going on, Harry thought as he reached for his wand. What should he do? Should he attack him, surprise him? Or was he there to take him back home, to Hogwarts? But… why would Dumbledore send him, of all people?
Harry was finding it hard to think clearly… his world blurred before his very eyes.
What was happening to him?
Snape looked around as he reached the top of the steps. Where is the damn boy, heasked himself, in an obvious bad mood.
He looked into the first room. Nothing... a muggle bathroom. Next one... no. Next... nope. No Potter. He was beginning to grow angry by the fourth room. Where in the hell was he?
He then turned toward the door at the end of the hall. This one was it... it had to be. He could feel it. He walked towards it, and pushed it open.
The door opened wider, and there stood Professor Snape. If the situation was different, Harry probably would have laughed. He looked utterly ridiculous in his muggle clothing.
"Put down your wand, Potter," Snape greeted him, catching sight of Harry's wand first and foremost and not concentrating on anything else.
Harry kept it raised, yet with effort. It seemed so heavy…
"I said, put it down," Snape repeated. "Expelliarmus!" Harry's wand flew out of his hand and landed in his professor's, as if taking candy from a baby. Harry couldn't find the energy to fight back, but just stared into Snape's cold eyes, as if warning him to come near."What are you doing here?" Harry asked angrily.
"Manners, Potter."
"Hell with manners, what are you doing here?!" he said slightly louder.
"What do you think I'm doing here, idiot boy? I'm here to collect you."
"Yeah? On whose orders?" Harry said, straightening. He couldn't show Snape his weakness… he had to stay strong.
He was fighting to stand up tall, but was losing the battle. Snape, undoubtedly, noticed the moment he walked into the room. The boy was swaying on his feet from where he stood, his eyes looking as if he hadn't slept in days, and paler than he ever remembered.
Something definitely wasn't right with this picture.
He could easily come to the conclusion that the boy was mistreated, due to the comparison of his room toward the others and the locks he found on his door. He couldn't even find a picture with Harry in it when downstairs. He wondered if Dumbledore knew... but Snape wasn't one to feel pity for anyone. The headmaster had warned him of something like this, but as usual, Snape hadn't taken the warning seriously.
He had to admit--this was nothing to what he expected. He had no idea the boy lived this way…
Not that it changed his views on the boy, of course.
"Get your belongings," he said coldly after a minute's silence.
Harry stayed put, staring.
"Do not make me repeat myself!" Snape said. "If you want to go back to school, you will do precisely what I say... no objections!" He made sure to keep his voice lowered due to the Dursley's downstairs.
"Who sent you?" Harry asked, obviously not letting down his guard.
Snape walked closer to Harry, studying him. "You're sick, Potter," he said. "When was the last time you slept?"
Harry stood up taller. "I'm not sick. I feel perfectly fine, thank you."
"I said..." Snape was clearly not enjoying this, "when was the last time you slept, Potter?!" The Professor was clearly aware of the boy's dreams--Dumbledore had told him some time ago. If they were getting worse... that could only mean--
"I sleep." Harry said simply, his voice filled with hatred.
"You're in bad health." Snape said, backing away from him again. "A fever... nothing Madame Pomfrey won't be able to cure," he said in almost a bored voice. "Now get your belongings. I don't want to stay here more than I have to."
Snape was turning around, ready to walk out of the room when Harry asked, again, "Wh-who sent you...?"
He looked over his shoulder. "Albus Dumbledore... believe me, Potter, I was not sent here out of my own free will..." He threw Harry's wand on the floor next to his feet.
And with that, he left his bedroom. Harry stared after him with a look of hatred on his face. How could Harry be sure Dumbledore sent him? It didn't seem like a likely story... why would he send him, of all people? Why not Sirius? But then again... it would be too risky with the ministry after him...
With the thought of his godfather, the yearning for him to get out of this house was growing and growing. Oh, how much he wanted to be back home... at Hogwarts, with his friends.
That settles it, Harry thought, picking up his books and throwing them in his trunk. Whether he was talking him to Hogwarts or Voldemort, he had to get out of there. He'll worry about the consequences and ask questions later.
"There you are, Mr. McKinley," Vernon said cheerfully. "If you would just take a seat--"
"No thank you, Vernon, I don't think I will," he said.
The family stared at him.
"Excuse me, sir?" Vernon said confusedly.
"I am not a dealer. I am, in fact," he withdrew his wand, "a wizard... here to collect Harry Potter."
With the sight of the wand, Petunia screamed and Dudley squealed, throwing his hands on his buttocks and running out of the room. Vernon turned pale, unlike his usual purple color.
"You... you..." Vernon mumbled. "But, a dealer... I thought--"
He pocketed his wand. "Just an act, so sorry." His voice was very sarcastic. "Albus Dumbledore instructed me to give you this," he said in a bored voice, throwing a letter out onto the table.
Petunia and Vernon jumped up from the table as if he had thrown a bomb on it. "A-albus Dumbled-dore?" Petunia said. "Is that the... the--"
"Headmaster of Hogwarts?" From their reactions, it was if he had sweared loudly. "Yes."
There was Harry's footsteps heard on the steps during the prolonged silence along with loud clunks due to the heavy trunk he was carrying. Seconds later, Harry appeared in the hallway, out of breath.
His Uncle stared at him with hate.
"BOY!" Vernon raged. "YOU... YOU--I WARNED YOU!"
Harry had to admit, he loved knowing that Uncle Vernon could do nothing to him now that there was a fully-trained wizard standing right in front of him. He held onto the wall for support as he watched the scene, not wanted to faint and miss it.And with that, Snape turned away from them, stopping at Harry's luggage and muttering Locomoter Trunk before making his way to the door. Harry stood staring at his raging Uncle and his pale Aunt. He couldn't help but smile. "See you," he said, turning around.
"DON'T DARE COME BACK HERE NEXT SUMMER, DO YOU HEAR ME BOY!?" His uncle yelled at the top of his lungs, his face turning the dark purple. "I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE OR YOUR FREAKISHNESS IN THIS HOUSE EVER AGAIN!" His Uncle didn't dare to leave his spot with two wizards in his household. Petunia was standing behind him, trembling.
He spun around, glaring at them. "Believe me, I would rather go there than to stay another minute in this house with you," he said.
"Potter, we have no time--" Snape said behind him.
But he was already walking toward his relatives, his wand pointed at his Uncle. He put his sickness out of his mind for the moment.
"These past fourteen years," Harry started, "you hated me… you treated me like dirt, just because of my parents. You made me live in a damn cupboard for the first eleven years of my life! You treated me like dirt... like I was non-existent!" His voice raised with every word.
Snape was growing impatient. "Potter, I do NOT have all day. Get over here NOW!"
"SHUT UP!" Harry yelled at him, not even turning his head toward him. "Well, guess what? You succeeded! You made my life miserable!" He looked toward his Aunt. "Just because my mother was something you weren't. Well guess what! She was TEN TIMES MORE OF THE PERSON THAN YOU'LL EVER BE!"
"I hate you! All of you!" he continued, his wand shaking from anger. Sparks began to spring from it, causing his Aunt and Uncle to practically dive onto the floor. "YOU--""Silencio," Harry heard Snape say as his wand hit Harry's head. It felt as if there was a bubble that formed in his throat. He tried to say something, but soon found that he couldn't. Snape had clearly put a silence charm on him.
Harry gave Snape the dirtiest look before turning to look at his relatives with fury. Snape was also fuming with anger. "Don't ever talk to me like that again, Potter. Now do as I say, and get OUT."
He went to the front door and left the house, slamming it behind him. Snape turned around, his wand erect as he directed Harry's mid-air trunk, and followed Harry out of the door. As soon as he closed it, he heard Vernon's voice raging.
He found Harry sitting on the ground right outside, absolutely furious. He looked up at his professor with hatred, before turning his attention to the grass again. He pointed his wand at the boy, muttered an incantation, and Harry could soon find that he could talk again.
Harry put a hand up to his throat. It felt like the bubble has just popped. "Gee, thanks," he said sarcastically, rubbing his neck.
"I don't want to hear it, Potter. I'm here on orders... I'm not here to deal with your childish nonsense."
Harry stood up heatedly. "Childish nonsense?!"
Snape walked across the street from his house, Harry's trunk floating up beside him. Harry followed. "What do you mean by nonsense?!" He was in NO mood to be respectful... he was in NO mood for ANY crap right now. After a summer of... of not knowing ANYTHING and being treated like some little 'child', the last thing he wanted was to be 'rescued' by Professor Snape. "If you had any idea of what living with the Dursley's--"
"I have no time for this!" Snape spun around, cutting him off. "He pointed at a piece of garbage on the street. "Go on!"
Harry just stared at it, and then at him. "Er--"
"It's a portkey, Potter!" he said coldly. "Are you that dense!" It wasn't a question.
Harry looked down at it. How could he trust him? With his experience with the Twiwizard Cup being a portkey.... He shook the memory out of his head. "How do I know where this will take--"
Snape understood immediately. "I'm not a Death Eater," he said irritably. "It will take you back to Hogwarts."
"Then why aren't you going with me?" Harry asked suspiciously. His head gave a nasty throb. He stumbled. "How can I be sure--"
Snape rolled his eyes and grabbed Harry's hands and pulled his fingers to the garbage. Harry tried to resist, but found his sickness taking over as he closed his eyes tightly, feeling a pull just above his naval. But he couldn't remember anything else after that. He felt himself black out--finally--his fever taking toll on him.
I'm so tired… zzz.
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