Footprints in the Sand
Harry Potter and the Philadelphia Raven
Prologue
Part Two:
The Guardian
Another week had passed with Harry and Dudley struggling to finish up the attic before Dudley's birthday, and Dudley refused to talk about the Impossible Treasure whenever Harry tried to broach the subject. What he couldn't seem to figure out was how to make Dudley understand was that it was his mother's money, and therefore not for Dudley to spend willy-nilly as he pleased.
They were on their way to having a new attic, having cleaned out the rest of it, hiding Harry's mother's belongings up in Harry's wardrobe, and had moved on to cleaning away the cobwebs and dust so that the painters and decorators could come in. Now, it seemed, Dudley was actually willing to let Harry upstairs with him when the room was finished, and scowling, Harry understood just why, as unwilling benefactor of After the Bell, Dudley's after school program.
It was on this day, when Harry couldn't find it in him to stop sneezing, and Dudley started to feel a bit dizzy, that they trudged a bit of dirt down into Aunt Petunia's spotless kitchen. Aunt Petunia startled and looked at them with slightly unfocused eyes.
"Taking a break?" asked Aunt Petunia from where she stood at the counter, making sandwiches for lunch. Dudley nodded. "Clean up, then, and have something to eat."
They both did as she said, running up to the bathroom to wash their faces and hands and try to remove some of the grime from their clothes. They returned together, and Aunt Petunia already had the table set with plates of food and juice, and they both dug in, ravenous after all the hard work.
"You know," said Aunt Petunia. "Your father told you to make sure you got rid of everything up there, but there are a few things that I want. You haven't dumped any trash yet, have you?"
"No," said Dudley. "Damien's going to take it to the dump for me at the end of the week. What did you want? We'll get it out of the garage this afternoon."
"A few things," said Aunt Petunia, watching as they devoured sandwich after sandwich. "I'll make some more," she said, rising and going back over to the refrigerator. Neither one stopped her. "There's a jewelry box that I want. It's old, probably faded and scratched badly. It was a deep mahogany once, and it has gilt on the side spelling out Evans."
Harry nodded, remembering the jewelry box he'd thrown at Dudley. "I know where that is," he told her.
"Good," she said. "I need it." Harry blinked. "And I also need a chest. It was up on the top shelf, and, oh I don't know, did you boys open it at all?"
Harry stopped mid bite and looked over at Dudley whose hand went around, pulling his shirt out of his trousers so as to cover the wand sticking out of his back pocket. Aunt Petunia interrupted them with a fake cough.
"I suppose you have, then," she said tersely. "I need it back."
"Okay, Mum," said Dudley. "We were just, you know, trying to separate the junk, that's all."
Aunt Petunia narrowed her eyes at them. "The junk," she said tightly. "Oh, I see. My dead sister's belongings are not junk." Both boys blinked at her in confusion. It used to be that she pretended that she didn't even have a sister, and now, all of a sudden, Lily Evans's property held some sentimental value to her. Harry scowled. "Where is it?"
"In my wardrobe," said Harry. "I didn't think you'd want it."
"If that was the case, I'd have thrown it all away when she gave it to me," retorted his aunt, crossing her arms over her chest. "Get it. Now. Both of you."
Neither Harry nor Dudley spoke until they reached the sanctity of Harry's tiny bedroom. Harry yanked open the wardrobe and glowered at Dudley. "I told you it was a bad idea, he said. She's bound to go through and make sure everything's there. Put the wand back, at least."
"No," said Dudley. "It's mine! It likes me!"
"Dudley!" whispered Harry. "Your mum's bound to be angry enough as it is when she finds out what we've done with the gold. Don't make it worse. Put it back. You can steal it back from her later, or something."
"It's mine," said Dudley. "She hasn't looked at it in who knows how many years. I'm keeping it."
Harry glared at Dudley, but said no more as they labored to bring the trunk downstairs. Aunt Petunia did go through it, right there on the kitchen table, all thoughts of lunch forgotten.
"The wand is missing," she said tightly, glaring at them both. "And so is all of the money. Care to explain why?"
"I have the wand," said Dudley, producing it from his back pocket. "It likes me." Aunt Petunia snatched it out of his hand so fast that she left behind a red welt. Dudley glowered at her. "I want to keep it."
"Dudley," said Aunt Petunia in a tone of voice she usually reserved for Harry. "Go to your room until your father gets home."
"I want to keep it," said Dudley resolutely, but when Aunt Petunia ignored him again, he grumbled that he would get it back and stormed off to his bedroom in indignation.
"Aunt Petunia," began Harry. "We didn't think—"
"Of course you didn't think, you wretched boy," she spat, knocking over the trunk with a strained shove so that all of its contents spilled onto the kitchen table. "You never think of anything. You always just assume. Do you think that I want you here, that I'm happy looking at you and seeing my dead sister and all of the stupid mistakes she's made? I always had to clean up after her messes, did you know? Always. And I'm damned tired of doing it for you as well."
"What are you talking about?" asked Harry, his eyes trailing down to his mother's things on the table. "I don't understand—" Aunt Petunia reached out and snapped the pendant from around his neck.
"You wouldn't," she said. "You didn't sit there for hours listening to what all of this stuff meant to her. You didn't take lessons an entire summer so that you'd know how to use it all, when the time came. You don't know anything."
"Well I'm not likely to know anymore with you not explaining it to me, am I?" said Harry in irritation. "What are you talking about?"
"My sister, you idiot boy. You don't know anything about her."
"I don't know a lot about her, but I love her anyway," spat Harry. "Why do you think you have some divine right to all of her things from Hogwarts when you hate her?"
Aunt Petunia slapped him, very hard, and for the first time in his life. Harry blinked at her in surprise, but she didn't seem at all moved, and glowered at him.
"Shut up," she told him darkly. "What did you do with my gold?"
"Is that all that you care about?" said Harry, his face turning red from more than the slap. "Is that what all this is about? Money?"
"Tell me where it is!" screamed Aunt Petunia in a rage.
Harry blinked at her, unmoving. "No," he said.
For a moment she looked ready to hit him again, but she stepped away. "Where is your damned bird?" she demanded. Harry knew that she already knew Hedwig was locked away in her cage, only allowed out at nights when the neighbors were unlikely to see her.
"Upstairs," he said.
Aunt Petunia stormed past him, and Harry heard the none-too-subtle sounds of Dudley scampering off the steps from where he listened and hurrying into his room. Only after Hedwig had been gone a good ten minutes was Harry allowed into his own inner sanctum, and not allowed out again.
The door crept open, and Dudley peeked his round head inside. "She's locked herself in the garage. She's going through everything in there to see what else we might have taken."
"I told you it was a bad idea."
"Bah," said Dudley waving his hand and plopping down heavily on Harry's tiny bed. "She'll get over it," he said. "She gave me my wand back; said that if I lost or broke it, she'd kill me, but that I could hold onto it a little while longer." Dudley sighed and fell back. "I wonder if this means that I can't have my game room, after all that work."
Harry kicked him hard in the knee. "I did most of the hard work," said Harry bitterly.
Dudley shrugged. "We've been put under house arrest until Dad comes home," he said. "I can't believe it. Mum never punishes us."
Harry snorted. "Uncle Vernon never punishes you, either," said Harry. "I'm the only one who gets in trouble around here."
"But stick to it, Harry," said Dudley. "Don't give up the money, understand? We need that, and she hasn't even done anything with it. It just sat there, collecting dust—"
The door practically exploded inwards and Harry grabbed at his heart as he gawked at the figure standing there, the bag of coins in his hand. With a malicious sneer, he turned the bag over and the coins fell onto the floor, Aunt Petunia glowered at Harry over the man's shoulder.
"Read it," said Snape tossing a coin that Harry deftly caught. Harry stared down at the little scratches on the gold that hadn't been there before, and looked back up at Snape blankly. "Oh. I forgot," he said, stepping over the coins and coming into Harry's bedroom. "You can't, can you?"
Harry blinked at the coins. "That wasn't there before."
"No, it wasn't, you idiot boy," spat Snape, snatching the coins from his hands, "because you didn't know that it was there. Do you have any idea what you could have done?" he demanded, hovering over them both with a maniacal gleam in his eyes. "If you hadn't gone to the bloody goblins, if you had tried to spend it, like the simpleton that you truly are…. The Order could have been discovered because of your foolishness. Wasn't it enough to get Black killed?"
Harry stared at him, mouth gaping wide open in shock. His breathing was short and quick, and he felt his hand darting to the wand in his pocket, but Snape seized his wrist.
"Try anything and I will truly have you expelled for your insolence and your idiocy," he said, breathing down Harry's neck through his flared nostrils. "Do it, boy. I dare you."
Harry's hand fell limp but he glared at Snape. "You're not worth it."
"Contrary, Mr. Potter, it is you who are not worth my efforts," spat Snape. "You've put your entire family in danger, you know. Not to mention the Order. And still, I waste my time cleaning up after your stupid mistakes. Do you want it to be all for nothing then, your mother's sacrifice?"
"Don't bring her into this—"
"It's all about her, Harry," said Aunt Petunia darkly. "Or haven't you figured that out yet?" She glared at both of the boys on the bed, Harry who felt indignation swelling up in his chest, and Dudley who cowered before Snape in all of his menacing ugliness. "Pack your things, both of you. We can't stay here any longer. Severus has come to take us away."
Harry spluttered. "What?" he demanded, jumping up and facing Aunt Petunia.
"I told you," said Snape. "You put them all in danger, running off with the Impossible Treasure. It was safe here, with your Aunt, until you took it to the globins."
"But," said Harry confusedly. "You said that taking it to the goblins was better than spending it!"
"Yes, but I never said that taking it to the goblins was a good idea," said Snape. "I had a hard enough time getting it back from them. They're irate. They hate the way the Ministry treats them, but I don't suppose you spent much time paying attention in History of Magic class, else you might already know that."
"But what does this have to do with us?"
"If they join with the Dark Lord, Mr. Potter," said Snape slowly, as if he were speaking to a particularly daft child, "they will have all the information that they'll need to stage an attack. They do not need to enter the correct house in order to blow up the entire street. The blast alone would kill you, which, I'm sure, would cause the Dark Lord and his allies to rejoice. Now pack your things."
Harry grumbled as he moved around his room throwing his belongings into his school trunk as Snape watched. Aunt Petunia had already packed some possessions for her and Uncle Vernon to take, or so she said, and instead went to help Dudley.
"Where are we going, Professor?" asked Harry as he fished under his bed for any stray socks. "Hogwarts? 12 Grimmauld Place?"
"Hardly," said Snape; Harry could hear the sneer in his voice. "No, Potter, you won't be seeing your little friends today. Perhaps, if you're a good boy, I might take you along when I go to meetings, but even then it's unlikely." Harry turned to glare at him, but was shocked to find a sadistic little smile on Snape's lips. "No, I suppose you'll simply have to get along with Draco, instead."
"Draco?" squeaked Harry, grabbing Hedwig's cage. "Draco Malfoy?"
"Why, yes," said Snape. "You and your family will be staying at Malfoy Manor," he said. "You might not have heard, but I've been his active guardian since the end of term. It was necessary that one of the members of the Order claim him. Dumbledore pressed Fudge into naming me his guardian rather than his distant cousin Johannes under the pretenses that, as a dear family friend, and his godfather, I'd prove to provide a more caring atmosphere for him in his trying time."
"Why didn't he just stay with his mother?" asked Harry.
"She was sent to Azkaban with the other Death Eaters," said Snape. "She was a less involved member, not in the inner circle, but she was a member." He paused. "Those captured and proven guilty were Kissed under right of treason."
"Kissed?" asked Harry, pausing before he shut his trunk.
"Indeed," said Snape. "Be cautious what you say to him. He's been in a mood, lately." With that, Snape swirled around and left the room, Harry trailing after. They met up with Aunt Petunia and Dudley on the front lawn. "Ministry approved cars are taking us to the Portkey spot. Petunia, you've Portkey'd before, haven't you?" Harry gasped in shock as Aunt Petunia nodded. "Explain it to your son, if you would."
Two black cars pulled up. The first car already held a bunch of people whom Harry didn't know. "They're going to gather more of your belongings," Snape explained to Petunia. He pointed at the other, empty car. "We're going to take this one."
Harry sat in the back with Dudley, and was oddly surprised to find that Snape knew how to drive. For some strange reason, he figured that Snape, as an orthodox wizard, would rely more heavily on traditionally wizarding means of transportation, not the muggle adaptations.
They arrived at a dingy store in London. Snape pulled to a stop and ushered them inside. It was small and filthy and smelled slightly of stale cookies. Harry scrunched up his nose, and followed Snape all the way to the back. A man in a green uniform with a bright yellow M emblazoned on it greeted them.
"Malfoy Manor, right?" asked the man in a squeaky voice that didn't fit his face. Snape nodded. "Right over there. The old tire."
"Gather around," said Snape. "Keep your hands on your luggage at all times, and one hand on the tire." Harry did as he was told, and felt that uncomfortable hook in his belly button pulling him forward. He shook his head as the world swirled, and he felt his feet land with a thud on lush carpeting. Harry blinked, and took a few breaths to steel himself because he felt wobbly and dizzy from the Portkey and nauseous from standing in Draco Malfoy's house. He found the understated elegance to be smothering. The house had a subtle personality that would kill, if given the chance. Harry hated the polished woods, the refined colors, the crystal and tapestries and the impression that the house was being restrained.
A house-elf stood before them, dressed in a white loincloth. It smiled at them widely.
"Master Snape!" it squeaked. Aunt Petunia and Dudley stared at it rather oddly, but Harry supposed they would get quite used to the sight of such things. "Lissy is preparing the rooms you requested, sir. They is ready."
"Good," said Snape. "Take these bags." Lissy the house-elf bowed low and snapped his fingers. The luggage levitated and disappeared with a pop after the elf. "This will be your home until we can find you more suitable quarters," said Snape. "If any of you run into Draco, I'd advise you to turn around and go the other way."
"Who's Draco?" asked Dudley, sounding more curious than frightened.
"The master of this house," said Snape shortly. "I'll show you to your—"
"Honestly, Severus, you'll give them the wrong impression about me," said the same cool drawl Harry recognized from school. Dread dropped into the pit of Harry's stomach as Draco made himself visible from the shadows. Draco's nose twitched, as if he had smelled something rather unpleasant, and his eyes roved over Harry's family with judgement. "Welcome to Malfoy Manor," he said in a polite manner that made them know that they really weren't welcomed at all. "I do hate to sound terribly impolite, but there are a few things which you must first know before I can let you roam the halls."
"We can go over this later, Draco. Wouldn't you like to let your guests rest first?"
Draco blinked and drew back. He lifted his hand as if he had planned to reach out, but hesitated, and grabbed at a serpent's head on the mantle instead; the head shifted down easily, as if it were a hidden lever. It blinked its wooden eyes slowly, and came alive, much to Aunt Petunia's distaste.
"Master," said the snake in plain English, which surprised Harry. "What do you wish of me?"
"Call for Marie," said Draco, never turning his gaze away from the plainly Muggle Dursleys. The snake slithered and turned completely around, its tail flicking out as it disappeared into the grand woodwork. It appeared moments later, and a woman hurried into the room, her hair pushed back into a tight bun, and a pristine apron tied around her black robes. "Marie, would you spare your time to aid Mrs. Dursley as she becomes accustomed to the manor." He paused, and said, condescension in his eyes as he finally did look away. "She may also need your wand as she is unable to perform magic herself."
"Draco," said Snape. "Don't you have anything else that you could be doing? Certainly your grades would fare better if you studied at all." But as Snape said this, there was no derision in his eyes, only this helpless sort of pleading meanness. "You won't always be able to succeed without toil, you know."
"You can if you've money to toil for you," he said and turned on his heel.
"That's Draco," said Snape, looking over at Aunt Petunia and Dudley in a warning manner. "Do heed my advice. He's not always quite so welcoming."
"That was welcoming?" said Dudley loudly in shock. "Bloody hell!"
"Watch your mouth, Dudley!" said Aunt Petunia sharply. "We'll just have to make do. Both of you would do well to leave that boy alone. He's horrid."
"Don't speak so of the master," said the maid with an Irish lilt, whom everyone had forgot was still standing there. "He's just terribly upset and confused. He's lost both his parents barely last week! He's an uplifting presence, usually. Give him time."
Harry snorted to think of Draco Malfoy as uplifting, but Snape sighed heavily, as if he wanted to agree with Marie but could not find the words. Finally he said. "Marie, show them to their rooms. You're aware of the places Draco was talking about, I'm sure, so let them know their bounds. I've got to go pick up the other Dursley."
Marie nodded and Snape touched the tire once again. Harry supposed that he was transported back to the tiny shop.
He'd known that taking that money was a bad idea. He knew it, yet he couldn't find it in himself to stop it. Now look what it got him: a summer with Malfoy and Snape. Oh, the joys of idiocy.
