My first port of call was the house elves. I was looking for the extraordinary creature with several tea-cosies on his head and a collection of vile, garish socks. I had noticed in the past that this particular elf had some kind of attachment to Potter. He was, naturally, delighted to see me, entirely at my service, and so on. And so forth. House elves are so boring.
I explained what I wanted. As I was obliged to leave the Castle for a short while, could he and some of his comrades keep an eye on Potter and see he came to no harm. The inner grounds of Hogwarts itself were entirely safe, of course. It was the boy I didn't trust to keep out of trouble. House elves, when not bound by their enslavement, are powerfully magical creatures. They were to guard him, and keep him still, quiet and out of harm's way.
Next I changed my clothes, and strolled along to the castle gates. Once outside, I smiled grimly to myself. I had been looking forward to this trip for some days, and had been waiting until Potter was sufficiently recovered to be left alone without fear of relapse.
Then I Apparated to Little Whinging.
Harry was surprised, but not alarmed, when he saw the delegation of house elves coming towards him. He was sitting under a tree, dozing slightly. Snape had been right; he was tired. The Quidditch 'Sudden Death' had been a lot of fun, but he really was still quite weak. He smiled to himself again when he thought of the ruse by which he had won the final round. Snape would never get over it.
"Hello, Dobby," he said cheerfully. "What are you doing here?"
Dobby crouched down, resplendent in his multi-coloured garments. He somehow contrived to look more bizarre every time Harry saw him. His green ball-like eyes were very large now as he stared at Harry. The house elves with him squatted round Harry in a circle.
"Dobby apologizes, sir. Harry Potter must be kept safe, sir."
"What are you talking about, Dobby?" Harry was getting a bit nervous now. He remembered Dobby's previous attempts to keep him safe. It was not reassuring.
"Professor Snape, sir, has asked Dobby to make sure that Harry Potter is safe."
"Oh. Right, Dobby. But I'm fine, see? I'm just having a little nap in the sunshine…"
"But Harry Potter needs to keep still, sir. Professor Snape said we had to make sure Harry Potter stayed still. Then he will be safe.Dobby is just doing what Professor Snape asks, sir…"
Harry jumped in outrage. Dobby had closed his huge eyes, wagged his bat-like ears, and the next thing Harry knew, he was encased in some kind of soft foam. It was perfectly comfortable, but impossible for Harry even to stand up. It was like being wrapped in a large see-through duvet.
"WHAT – "
"Would Harry Potter like a cup of tea? Or a biscuit, perhaps? We can fetch Harry Potter anything he wants…"
Harry groaned bitterly, and closed his eyes. He had known Snape would find some way to get back at him for beating him at Quidditch.
Harry's uncle obviously recognized me. He began to splutter and bluster, and tried to close the door in my face. I blocked his arm, and marched right on in.
I stared down at him with disdain. This sweating, red-faced bag of blubber had caused me to spend nearly a week practically chained to a hospital bed, with Potter sick and screaming at my side. I took in the rolls of fat oozing out over his collar and his waistband. I recalled Potter's skinny chest and the ridges of his ribs – several of which had been broken.
I had barely moved yet: merely fixed him with my stoniest glare. And the man was practically crying already. He backed up against the stair-well. He was standing in front of the cupboard. The cupboard into which he had thrown his injured nephew, and locked the door behind him.
I growled in my throat. I wondered if he would wet his pants before I had even said a word.
"I- I can explain," he choked out.
"Indeed?" I folded my arms, and waited.
"He, he needs discipline, that boy. He's a weirdo. He's not right in the head. He…"
His voice trailed off. Possibly it occurred to him another wizard might not care for this description of a magic-user.
"Please…I'll give you anything you want…"
He was pathetic.
At that moment the door opened and a horsy woman entered, trailed by a vast young man about the same age as Potter and about six times as large.
How nice. The whole family was here.
The woman let out a little shriek when she saw me towering in her hallway, with her husband wringing his hands in front of me.
"Vernon! What is this?"
I smiled at her; at least, I bared my teeth at her. I did not intend the gesture to be warm or friendly. She did not seem to interpret it as such, for she cringed backwards with another squawk of fear.
The fat boy was trying to back out of the door. I froze it shut with a wave of my hand.
Now they were all practically crying. This was just like teaching, really.
I gestured for them all to go into the living room and sit down. I remained standing, and leaned my shoulders back against the door. I was beginning to enjoy myself.
It is a pity that the Ministry takes such an unnuanced view of Dark magic. I did not dare to use any unpleasant curses on them. And besides…they were so…pitiful. They were unworthy of my attention. They were unworthy to have been Potter's guardians. I understood about the charm rooted in his mother's blood, but really…It was unbelievable that this scrawny woman clutching her chest in fear could possibly have been closely related to Lily Evans.
They trembled with anticipation. Then the man cleared his throat.
"Wh…what are you going to do to us?"
I chose not to reply for a few moments. They looked, if anything, even more frightened. House elves had more guts than these whimpering idiots.
"What if I cast a spell so that you experience what you put Potter through? Would you consider that to be fair repayment for your treatment of him?" I asked pleasantly.
The man set his jaw. His moustaches wobbled."He deserved what he got!" he said gruffly. "He comes here, he blows up my sister, he puts us all in danger with those Demented thingies…embarrasses us in front of the neighbours.."
Ah. They did not like to be embarrassed.
I could not really cast such a spell, so that Potter's pain was inflicted on them in their turn. Using hostile mind magic of that kind on Muggles carried very heavy penalties. I had no intention of spending time in Azkaban on account of these non-entities.
There are many other means of inflicting misery, however. Muggles use them all the time.
"No? You don't like my suggestion? Let us start somewhere simpler, then. It is Potter's birthday tomorrow. Seventeen is the most important threshold for a wizard…" (They cringed visibly at the word) "…for he will be coming of age. What are you getting him for his birthday?"
They looked thoroughly blank.
"G-getting him? For his birthday?" the man spluttered, as if such an idea were amazing.
I narrowed my eyes. "Let us start somewhere even simpler, then. What do you usually buy for Potter at his birthdays and Christmas?"
They looked at each other uneasily.
"Speak," I said nastily. I drew my wand out of my pocket and pointed it at the cowering man with a dramatic flourish.
"SOCKS!" he burst out, leaning back in his chair. "At least…my old socks…gave him some of my old socks…"
"And?"
"A tissue," the woman whispered. "We sent him a tissue one year, do you remember, Vernon…"
"It was a Kleenex tissue! It was a bloody good one!"
I tapped my wand against my arm.
"It seems to me," I told them, "that you owe Potter for quite a number of birthdays and Christmases. Let me see. How much would that come to, do you suppose?"
They looked horrified. Monetary considerations were obviously important to them. Good.
"Let me help you," I said kindly. "How much did you spend on this fat boy here last Christmas?"
The man muttered under his breath.
"What? Six hundred pounds? And you have had Potter since he was one? That comes to - well, let's say twenty thousand pounds, shall we? A nice round figure." I addressed the fat man, whose moustaches were fairly quivering in dismay. "I'll just wait here with your wife and son, while you go and fetch it."
"Wh- wh – WHAT? I haven't even got that much, and I certainly wouldn't give it to that sodding boy if I did!"
"How much do you have?" I ground my eyes into his.
"Seven thousand," he said sulkily. "Business has been bad. That's all there is in the current account." He was telling the truth.
"Well, I suppose it's better than nothing. Off you go, then. Be back soon, won't you?" I waved my wand rather pointedly in the direction of the woman and the boy.
And off he went. He had spluttered, and stuttered, and tried to plead with me. I was unmoved. I would have infinitely preferred to cast any number of jinxes at him, and watch him squirm, but this way certainly seemed to be causing all the suffering I desired.
The boy was howling. I watched him in fascination. I recalled my Occlumency sessions with Potter the previous year. This must be the charming lad who had tried to flush Potter down the toilet. I twitched my wand, just a little, and murmured under my breath. It was such a small spell…really the Ministry would never notice…..
"Dad was – going – to buy me – a car with that money – " he was blubbering.
"There, there, Dudders," his mother murmured, casting quick glances at me in case I wished to interrupt this touching display of maternal affection. "Daddy will buy you one as soon as he can."
"He won't be able to," the boy bawled. "The company's going bust, you told me….we're going to be poor…"
Yes. They were. I released another tiny little spell or two. I smirked.
I made the man count the money in front of me when he returned. He was sobbing freely as I gathered it up and began to leave.
"It's not fair!" he blustered at me. "What did we do to deserve this?"
I raised my eyebrows at him. "Are you serious? What did you do to deserve this? You starved, beat and abused a boy in your care. Believe me, Mr Dursley, you are getting off lightly. If I were in a position to inflict on you what you deserve you would be in a sorry state indeed. Good afternoon. Thank you so much for your time."
I swept away, leaving them clutching each other and crying. I overheard one last snippet as I exited.
"Uh, Dudders dear, where have you been? You smell like sewerage…"
Ah yes. That would be the Stink Spell I had cast.
The woman would have her embarrassment in full measure over the next week, when all the vermin from miles around would find themselves irresistibly attracted to the Dursley household. Mice, rats, flies, wasps, pests of all kinds: they would plague their lives and disgust the neighbours.
The man would find every business deal he did would go wrong. He would have the opposite of the Midas Touch. Everything he touched would turn to dross.
It would not be for ever. But they would be very miserable for quite a while.
My next stop was Gringotts, where I exchanged the Muggle money and retrieved a certain item from my vault. By the time I departed from Diagon Alley, it was much later than I anticipated when I arrived back at Hogwarts. The boy had not returned to the dungeons yet. I was rather surprised; surely by now he was bored of pacing the grounds on his own. I trusted that those house elves had faithfully discharged their duty, and restrained him from getting into mischief.
Who would have thought that oversight of one adolescent boy would be so much trouble? I decided I had better go and search for him. After all my efforts to keep him alive, it would be unfortunate to say the least if something had gone amiss.
It took me some time, but eventually I tracked him down.
He was safe, that was for certain. He hadn't able to get up to any tricks. He was sitting under a tree, encased in immobilizing jelly, and surrounded by house elves. He looked furious.
The day just got better and better. The house elves had obviously taken my words with utmost seriousness. I smirked.
"Hello, Mr Potter," I drawled.
"Snape!" he snapped, his head whipping round. It was about the only bit of him that could move freely. "Just because I beat you at Quidditch! Call them off!"
"Ah yes. I asked them to keep an eye on you and make sure you didn't get into any trouble. I see they have interpreted my instructions most zealously. Have you been here all afternoon?"
"YES!" His face was bright red now.
"Dear, dear. You will have had a nice rest, then."
"Please, Professor Snape, get me out of this…."
He looked close to tears. I relented, and indicated to the house elves that they could remove the spell. Potter was too disgruntled to speak.
This time, as we walked back to the castle, it was I who had to suppress my mirth.