Court Ordered Diet
by Surplus Imagination
Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Dudley Dursley and the other characters of the Harry Potter Universe belong to J.K. Rowling. This writing is for pleasure only. No profit is intended.
A/N Writing Petunia's relationship with Snape was the hardest thing I've done so far. She is one character I truly despise. Most of you picked right up on where I was heading. I want to give credit to Nikelodean, japanese-jew, and Purple Artichokes from Mars for on-target predictions. Ooki Mamoru gets an honorable mention for his humor and Swanpride for catching my error on the pranks. Thanks to Cecelle, Ebony Black, and Hary Poter for participating. I enjoyed reading your guesses more than you can imagine! Thank you!
I also owe serious thanks to my lovely beta, Acadia59601. A couple of the best lines are hers!
Stink Sap and a Permanent Sticking Charm
Harry had never seen Aunt Petunia move so fast before. The kitchen door was unlocked and swung open before he could even blink. An overwhelming wave of putrid air surged from the open door to flood Harry's senses. He heard Snape stifle a retch behind him. If it wouldn't make the smell even worse, Harry was all in favor of retching himself. Well, maybe not in front of Snape.
"Oh, Severus, I knew you would come one day," Petunia gushed, smoothing her hair. "Why did you never write? It's been ever so long."
Bloody Hell! Aunt Petunia knew Professor Snape? Really well, by the sound of things. Harry spun, turning shell-shocked eyes on the Potion Master. Other than a thin sheen of perspiration on his forehead, Severus Snape seemed perfectly composed.
"How nice to see you again, Petunia. It's been nearly twenty years and you've hardly changed." Harry watched, dumbfounded, as Snape stepped forward extending a hand. He casually brushed Harry aside to reach the door. The gesture was not lost on Petunia, judging by the approving gleam in her eyes. "I understand that your husband is suffering from an illness. May I offer my services?" Snape asked, smoothly.
"What?" asked Petunia, puzzled. She ignored the outstretched hand in favor of appreciatively checking out Snape's . . . form? Her eyes appeared to gobble him up from ground to crown. Harry felt his world tilt. Aunt Petunia fancied Professor Snape?
"Vernon, your husband, is he not sick?" Snape gently reminded her. "I have expertise in these areas. I would like to help." Smoothly, Snape lowered the outstretched hand. Aunt Petunia's gaze didn't appear to bother him.
"Oh, yes," Petunia replied, distracted by her study of Snape's clothes. "You are dressed . . . differently. Your clothes are so normal." Petunia froze suddenly, realizing that her behavior must appear odd. Her eyes darted around the room looking to see who might have witnessed her uncharacteristic display. Seeing no one else, she turned looking bashfully at Snape, "Yes, Vernon does need help." Her expression shifted to abrupt loathing. "That one poisoned him!" Petunia pointed an accusing finger at Harry. "He should be punished." It was obvious to Harry, Aunt Petunia was attempting to divert the attention from herself. It certainly worked.
"All the more reason for you to allow me to give aid. I can deal with Potter later," Snape sneered, giving Harry a contemptuous glare of his own. "May we come in?"
Petunia stepped back into the kitchen, allowing them entrance. No sooner than they stepped into the room, she launched herself at Snape in a bone crushing embrace. Harry watched Snape stiffen as long, bony arms wrapped themselves around the man's thin body. To his credit, Snape neither flinched nor gasped. He just stood stoically and endured the forced intimacy. A long minute passed and the clutch continued. Harry squeezed past the 'couple' and moved into the center of the room.
Harry observed with growing amusement that Aunt Petunia was resting her head on Snape's chest, a blissful expression on her horsey face. Snape's face, on the other hand, was far from blissful. His expression was swiftly becoming one of wild-eyed panic. So much for his composure!
Harry wondered just how long his aunt would continue her 'hug'. He also wondered where Dudley kept his camera. A picture of these two would be worth many galleons back at Hogwarts. Harry would be sure to give all the Gryffindors a copy, no charge. Harry smirked at the thought of Snape's panic-trapped face circulating the school.
The long minute grew into two. Snape cleared his throat and gasped, "Potter!" Bulging eyes focused on Harry's amused ones. The message was clear. Get. Her. Off.
"Aunt Petunia, I think Dudley will be home any minute," Harry drawled. He thrust his hands into his baggy pockets, while rocking back on sock-clad heels. Oh, a camera would be very nice right about now.
Like a scalded cat, Petunia jumped back releasing Snape. "You'll have to excuse me, Severus. It's just so good to see you again." Smoothing her hair, she gave a shy grin. "You'll have to forgive my behavior and appearance. It's been a troubling couple of days."
"Not at all, Madam," Snape soothed. "Why don't you show me where your husband is resting?"
"Madam?" Petunia gave a tittering little laugh. "That makes me sound so old, Severus. You weren't so formal, once."
Snape carefully cleared his throat and looked uncomfortably away. "Please forgive me, Petunia. I didn't wish to presume on past familiarities."
"Petunia? Oh, Severus. I want you to call me 'Pet', like you used to," Petunia twittered.
"Madam . . . I mean, Petunia . . . um . . . Pet," Snape stuttered. It was plain Aunt Petunia's attraction to the Severus Snape was a surprise to the man himself. An unpleasant surprise. Unexpectedly, Harry felt a twinge of pity for both his aunt and Snape. This wasn't going to end well. Maybe Aunt Petunia had been hexed or charmed into this ludicrous attraction. Maybe the stress of Uncle Vernon's sickness had addled her brains. Maybe the potion's effects were hallucinogenic and Harry has seeing things. Maybe–
SLAM
Dudley was home.
Aunt Petunia straightened up immediately and began to act the 'normal' hostess. Professor Snape regained his composure and retreated a safe distance away from Pet's grasp. Dudley waddled suspiciously fast past the kitchen and directly up the stairs to his bedroom. Harry caught sight of Dudley's overlarge purple shirt, bulging in unexpected places, as it flashed past the kitchen entrance. Harry guessed that Rita's desire to meet up with Dudley had more to do with saving another animal, than to do with the 'Dursley Charm'. Fighting the urge to investigate the purple bulges, Harry offered to lead 'Mr. Snape' up to his uncle's room. This, in turn, caused Petunia to beg a moment to 'tidy things up in the sickroom', before dashing from the kitchen. Harry turned to Snape.
"Can I get you something to drink?" Harry offered. "Perhaps some tea?" Two could play at being gracious.
Snape visibly shook himself at Harry's words. He looked to be coming out of a composed fog. "No, thank you." Severus Snape straightened his clothes, tucked in an errant portion of shirt tail and smoothed back his hair. Then, he took out his wand and began waving it in brisk circles, spinning on his heels. At each swirl of the wand, the putrid air freshened into something more breathable. Out in the hall, Harry heard Aunt Petunia liberally spraying potpourri air freshener from an aerosol can.
Make that several cans.
Harry listened to the ongoing spray hiss up the stairs and out of listening distance. About that same time, Snape finished his swirling and pocketed his wand.
"So, Professor Snape, were you and my Aunt Petunia a couple?" Harry was unable to resist the situation or the question.
"Certainly not," Snape spat, clearly rattled.
"Oh, just a date or two, then." Harry crowed.
"This is none of your business," Snape snarled.
"She obviously fancies you, Professor. Are you implying that she hugged you for absolutely no reason? My aunt doesn't even like to touch people, much less hug them." Harry grinned in such a way guaranteed to enrage his former professor. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, Harry seriously concluded that the stink in the house was indeed hallucinogenic, or at least inspired insanity. There was no other way he would be acting this way, or saying these things.
"Cease this questioning." Snape took a menacing step forward. "This conversation is over."
"A hex, then." A reckless thrill at provoking Snape shot through Harry's brain, even as another part screamed for him to shut-up.
"Potter!"
"Oh, I know. You brewed a new love potion and used my mother's Muggle sister as a guinea pig–" Harry never got to finish his supposition. At his last insulting question, Snape snatched Harry up by the front of his shirt. The gesture was undoubtedly intended to intimidate. After all, Snape towered over the teen. Instead of making Harry dangle, Snape snatched up the shirt - and pulled it right over Harry's head.
"That move didn't work for Dudley, either," Harry challenged. His voice was muffled by the cloth over his face. His arms waved uselessly above his head, trapped by the baggy sleeves in the rucked-up shirt. He felt ridiculous with half his stomach exposed. Eventually, Snape released his grasp. Harry shrugged his shirt back into place. He resettled his glasses onto his face. Snape's strangely concerned face came into focus.
"Mr. Potter, I think this situation has you overwrought. I will provide no answers to any of your questions. Perhaps your Aunt might entertain your sudden thirst for knowledge. Do not ask me again." Bright black eyes bore into green. "Your behavior is exceedingly strange."
"Oh, Severus," Petunia sang from the top of the stairs. "We're ready for you."
Harry pulled back from Snape's scrutiny. He was far more accustomed to scorn, than searching concern. The black, diamond-hard gaze was unsettling. It was time to divert Snape's attention.
"Right this way, Professor." Harry beckoned. He would take Snape right to Uncle Vernon and he would keep his mouth firmly closed. Snape gave a nod and followed Harry out to the hallway.
The moment he stepped into the hallway, Harry felt as if his face had been smashed into a huge bowl of potpourri. The scent Aunt Petunia thickly sprayed, hung noxiously in the air. Harry's lungs choked on the aerosol laden air in great whooping coughs. The potpourri scent, although overpoweringly strong, didn't begin to cover the reek of Vernon's sickness. It merely added another crippling dimension to the funk.
Through teary eyes, Harry saw Snape hold a handkerchief over his nose as he swirled his wand once again. Quickly, the air cleared. "What miasma is this?" Snape asked. Harry noticed that Snape's eyes were watering as well.
"It's a Muggle air spray intended to eliminate foul odors," Harry answered as he attempted to hack up a lung. "It's supposed to smell like dried flowers and be pleasant."
"It is not effective. The resulting smell is malodorous." Snape finished his wand waving and lowered his handkerchief. "Lead on, Potter."
The air did smell better after the charm. The choking spray had been eliminated effectively. Harry was tempted to ask Snape what charm he used, but remembered his internal promise to keep his mouth shut. He'd just have to write Hermione about it later. He also wanted to ask her advice on his letter and gift to Ginny.
As Harry led the way through the house and up the stairs, he noticed Snape slowing to study the myriad photos of Dudley covering the walls. He also uncomfortably noticed Snape lingering near the door to the cupboard under the stairs.
"Oh, Severus," called Petunia from the top of the stairs. "Did you get lost?"
"Coming." Snape left off his study and briskly mounted the stairs.
Harry stepped aside to allow Snape to pass him and proceeded to slowly climb the last few steps. The upper hallway smelled like a poorly kept privy, overlaid with that thick artificial potpourri scent. Snape walked slowly beside Petunia, discretely swirling his wand behind his back like a boat motor. This time, the charm did little to banish the stench.
Aunt Petunia's and Uncle Vernon's bedroom was at the end of the long hall. Snape paused before entering. After a quiet comment to Petunia, Snape went back to Harry at the top of the stairs. "I need you to distract your aunt's attention away from that room, so I can complete the cure. Will that be a problem?" Snape whispered, intensely.
"What about Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked. "He won't much like you in his bedroom."
"I will take can of Vernon Dursley. You worry about Petunia," Snape sneered.
"Pet," Harry replied, without thinking.
"What was that?" Snape hissed. His steely black eyes started to smoke with anger.
"She wants you to call her Pet," Harry stammered. He really had to remember to keep his mouth shut.
"Mr. Potter, I suggest that you keep your mouth shut and your puny mind focused on your goal, however challenging that may be to your limited attention span.. Are we clear?" Snape spat.
Resisting the urge to mimic locking his lips and throwing away the key, Harry merely nodded. How would he lure his aunt away?
Following Snape into the sickroom, Harry was struck by how flowery everything was. The curtains, bedspread, rug, and pillows were all covered in a large floral pattern. Vases of fake flowers decorated the dressers and garish floral prints, gilded in gold frames, adorned the walls. The overall effect was one of, well, flowers. Way too many flowers. It was like being trapped in a florist's nightmare. Harry suddenly understood his aunt's obsession with the garden. She obviously loved flowers, not just the thought of winning 'Best Garden of Little Whinging'. Maybe he should plant more climbing roses over a trellis seat. She could sit there instead of cluttering her bedroom with garish fakes.
Harry didn't think he had been in this room since he was small. His aunt and uncle didn't believe in comforting freaky little boys after their nightmares and small terrors. Harry had his access to this room curtailed by the age of four.
No, Aunt Petunia would never allow herself to enjoy something Harry made just for her. In the past, she had always thrown away his primary school efforts at homemade gifts. Harry wasn't even sure he wanted to do something nice for his aunt. She certainly hadn't done anything nice for him. Ever. Harry tore his eyes away from the decor, muttering at the hallucinogenic properties of the air.
Propped in the middle of the vast bed, was a pale looking, but mercifully asleep, Uncle Vernon. Harry watched Snape and Aunt Petunia confer in tones too quietly to overhear. Harry figured that they didn't want to wake his uncle. Suddenly, Harry saw his aunt laugh girlishly and flip the ends of her hair. Snape took a step away, widening the space between them. Vernon didn't awake.
"What's going on?" Dudley had made his appearance. Harry noticed a liberal sprinkling of black cat hair on the purple shirt. So, the bulges under Dudley's shirt were cat ones.
"Where'd you put the cat?" Harry asked, picking off one of the hairs.
"Your room. Who's that man?" Dudley stared, slack-jawed.
"That's the Potion Master at school, Severus Snape." Harry answered, returning his attention to the two in the bedroom. Aunt Petunia was standing very close to Snape again.
"He's the blackmailer?" Dudley asked. "He looks mean." Dudley's stomach gave a loud rumble.
"You have no idea." Harry watched Snape extricate himself from Petunia's close proximity to stand next to the bed. "Miss lunch?"
Dudley's stomach rumbled even louder. "Oh yeah. I missed snacks too. I'm so hungry that even your shoes were starting to look tasty."
Harry turned to Dudley in laughing surprise. "That's just sick, Dudley." Harry looked down to see a pair of brightly-white new trainers on Dudley's feet. He guessed Dudders had taken the time to go shopping before meeting Rita. However awful they were, Harry hoped Dudley hadn't thrown his only pair of shoes away.
"Harry, did Mum just pinch that man on the bum?" Dudley pointed toward the bed in astonished outrage. Dudley's eyebrows were arched high on his meaty face.
Harry spun and looked up so fast it popped his neck. All he saw was Snape moving quickly to the other side of the room. The wizard was clutching his wand through the pocket of his clothes. It was time for action. "No, Dudley. You must be mistaken." Harry fervently hoped that Dudley was wrong.
"Aunt Petunia, Dudley is here." Harry stepped forward, dragging his outraged cousin with him.
"Mum! Did I just see you-" Dudley's words were cut off by Harry's hand over his mouth.
"Aunt Petunia, could Dudley & I see you down in the kitchen? We were trying to make Mr. Snape here a proper cup of tea, but we can't find the special tea bags," Harry lied through his teeth. He kept one hand firmly over Dudley's mouth, the other hand holding Dudley's shoulder still.
Snape caught on quickly. "Yes, um . . . Pet. I would love a spot of tea. Perhaps one of your famous scones?" he asked, desperately. Harry almost felt sorry for him.
In his grip, Dudley went completely still, then licked the palm of Harry's hand. With a flinch of disgust, Harry let go, wiping his slobbered hand on his shirt.
"Oh, can I have a scone, too, Mum," Dudley begged. "Harry never lets me eat anything good. Can I have one, please?" The last plea was accompanied by a pitiful look.
"Of course, Dudley . . . Severus, this won't take but a minute," Petunia simpered toward Snape.
Harry took the opportunity to drag his cousin out of the door. "I need you to keep your Mum downstairs for as long as possible."
Dudley gave him a shrewd glance. "What for?"
"I need your Mum out of the room so Snape can cure your Dad. You remember him, don't you? Your father, whom you POISONED?" Harry yelled in a raw-throated whisper.
"I want some of those scones," Dudley countered. He folded his armed across his chest. "Four, I should think."
"Four? Are you mad?" Harry spat. "I thought you were serious about not wanting to go to jail!"
"I'm starving, and I have eaten hardly anything today, and I had to wear your awful shoes, and Rita only wanted a favor, and I've had a very bad day. I deserve four scones." Dudley pouted.
"Two. Two scones, but you have to eat a salad first," Harry relented, running his fingers nervously through messy hair. The last thing he needed right now was Dudley on another binge.
"Okay, two scones after a salad," Dudley agreed, brightening. "I can make one of those, you know."
"Yes, Dudley. Why don't you show your Mum what a great job you can do?" Harry rushed.
"Show me what?" Aunt Petunia finally made an appearance from the bedroom.
"Dudley wants to show you his new culinary skills, Aunt Petunia." Harry pushed Dudley slightly forward.
"I can make salad," Dudley declared, proudly.
"Oh, Popkin. How wonderful!" Aunt Petunia fondly cupped her son's cheek and smiled her approval. "You can even help me make the scones."
Mother and son made their way happily down the stair. Harry shook his head at their behavior. Life was getting stranger by the minute.
Inside the bedroom, Snape's was standing quietly by the bed as if nothing untoward had happened. Dudley's accusation had to be wrong. Uncle Vernon was still deeply asleep, oblivious to the dark-haired wizard performing an incantation just over his head. Harry watched Snape finish the charm, set down his wand and remove a small blue vial from his pocket.
"Potter, come here," Snape intoned, uncorking the vial. "I need you to alternate placing four drops of this infusion into his mouth and pressing firmly on the abdomen." He handed Harry the vial and retrieved his wand. "Are you ready?"
Harry nodded as he readjusted his uncle on the bed. It took a great deal of effort just to remove the flowery, overstuffed pillows propping his uncle upright and lay the man down. Whale-like, Uncle Vernon's unconscious bulk jiggled at the movement. The ponderous head tipped backward, allowing the mouth to gape. Still without speaking, Harry left the bedroom and retrieved a plastic eyedropper from the medicine cabinet. He returned to draw a measure of antidote from the small vial. Tasks completed, he raised his eyes to meet Snape's.
The Potion Master had an odd expression of puzzlement on his face. Harry met his gaze calmly. After a moment, Snape raised his wand and drawled, "Now."
Squeezing the dropper, Harry measured four precise drops into the gaping maw of Uncle Vernon's mouth. Across the bed, Snape began an energetic stab and swish motion while muttering a spell. He repeated the motion in waves, from about mid-chest to the groin.
"Now, press firmly on the abdomen holding for a count of five," Snape instructed, stepping back a pace. It was obvious from his expression that something unpleasant was about to happen. Harry had a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He just knew what would happen next.
Harry targeted the center of the mound of flesh before him as the abdomen. He pressed down, firmly, with both hands, fingers splayed. Nothing happened. Harry looked back up at Snape, questioningly.
"Try again and put more effort into it this time. Those bowels aren't going to evacuate themselves," Snape snapped.
Harry's bad feeling multiplied as he put more force into the push. He leaned into the task, applying more pressure, until the inevitable happened. The gas passed. It was loud. It sounded slightly wet. It was horribly disgusting.
Harry held his breath as he pushed for the required five counts. Across the bed, Snape stepped back another pace and began the odor-banishing swirling motion with his wand. When Harry finished his pushing, Snape motioned at the potion vial, again. Desperate for oxygen, Harry took a ragged breath of fetid air. He wished he had asked Snape to perform a bubble-head charm. Too late now.
"Again," Snape barked.
Harry placed four drops of the infusion into Uncle Vernon's mouth. He watched Snape repeat the stab and swish motions all down the body and step back again. Harry took this as his cue to press again. It was easier this time. Harry's hands sank into his uncle's stomach up to the wrist. The resulting flatulence was resounding . . . and foul.
Again and again, the two repeated the pattern. Four drops of the infusion and lots of wand waving, followed by manually forced gas evacuation. After the sixth or seventh round, Harry began to get dizzy. By the tenth repetition, he started swaying.
"Focus, Potter. If we stop now, we'll have to start all over again," Snape said through gritted teeth. "Fainting is not part of this plan. Talk to me."
Talk, huh? Harry groggily shook his head to clear things. If Snape wanted to talk, he'd give him a subject. Harry applied four more drops to begin the eleventh round.
"Okay, Professor. Just why does my Aunt appear to have a crush on you?" Harry's tongue felt thick and clumsy.
"I don't have the faintest idea what you are talking about," Snape replied, without looking up. "I said talk, not ask personal questions."
"She was definitely flirting with you," Harry murmured, pressing down again. The 'gas evacuations' were starting to sound like machine gun fire. The stench doubled, if that was at all possible. Harry's eyes burned from the fumes and his nose was going numb from the overload.
"You are mistaken." Snape spat, even he blanched at the burning smell.
"Aunt Petunia definitely fancies you and she normally despises magical things. Something in the past had a lasting impression on her. How did you meet? Is it connected with my mother?" Harry asked, starting on round twelve.
"Potter!" Snape warned.
"If you don't tell me, I'll just ask Remus," Harry growled. "I'll find out anyway." Snape didn't answer. Harry took a deep breath and announced, "Dudley thinks he saw his Mum pinch your bum."
With a snapping gesture, Snape flicked the last movement and lowered his wand. Harry watched as the man took several deep breaths in an effort to calm his anger, eventually choking on the putrid air. In the end, Snape dropped his head in defeat. "There isn't much to be told and I don't think you'll like what I have to say."
Harry held his breath, unsure of what to say. When Harry didn't respond, Snape raised his head and continued on with his spell casting. Harry continued on as well. By the time Harry was starting on his fourteenth round, Snape began to speak. The man started out fairly quietly. Harry had to strain to hear over Uncle Vernon's gas. Soon, Snape settled into the story and spoke louder.
"I met Petunia during my Hogwart's Graduation Ceremony. You may not know this, but your mother and I were friends. Your father and his annoying sidekicks took exception to our relationship. Violent exception. The day of the ceremony, I discovered that those four delinquents had set a trap for me. A parting prank, if you will, involving Stink Sap and a Permanent Sticking Charm. A very juvenile trap. I easily sidestepped the trigger point, but Petunia did not. She unwittingly stumbled into their midst, becoming ensnared. I hexed the four miscreants with boils and freed your aunt for Lily's sake. After I banished the Stink Sap, Petunia was exceedingly grateful. So much so, she followed me around the rest of the day." Snape paused lost in thought. After a moment, he continued. "I think that was the first time I actually rescued someone. My actions enraged Black so much, I'm certain he hexed your aunt with an Infatuation Charm. Anyway, she hovered on my very heels for the rest of the day, holding my arm and casting doe-eyes at me. I confronted Black about it later. He only howled his glee and denied culpability. I had forgotten that day . . . ," Snape trailed off, as Harry pressed down for the sixteenth time. Only a few ricochet sounds emerged.
"Was my dad involved setting the trap?" Harry asked, carefully. His soul felt punctured at hearing of Sirius' misdeeds. Even hearing his name spoken evoked a wrench of guilt and pain. Still, permanently binding Stink Sap to Snape would have been a funny prank to Sirius. Harry couldn't help but think it would be funny played on Malfoy as well. That thought eased some of the pain. It had been just a prank, after all. One that had been paid back with boils. Harry wondered how Snape undid a Permanent Sticking Charm. He also wondered which boil hex was used.
"I thought I had already made that perfectly clear. You weren't listening, as usual. Potter was always near the center of these things. He and Black were usually partners in crime, joined at the hip, arrogant to the core." Snape paused to press down on Vernon's stomach himself. No further sounds reported. "I think this is done."
For some reason, the last part didn't bother Harry at all. He supposed that he was coming to terms that neither his father, nor Sirius, were perfect people. It was still ok to love them anyway.
"Professor, if Aunt Petunia had an Infatuation Charm placed on her twenty years ago, could it still be active now?" Harry replaced the cork into the vial and handed it back to Snape.
"It seems impossible that it should still work, although Black was powerful and exceedingly clever in his malice," Snape mused. "However it is still unlikely. An Infatuation Charm wouldn't have been Potter's style. He was too busy making cow-eyes at your mother to hex her sister." Clearing his throat, Snape turned to look directly at Harry. "Your cousin was mistaken in his observations, Potter. Very wrong." Snape placed the vial back into his pocket and went about freshening the air again. Harry's foggy brain started to clear as well.
"I don't think it was a charm at all," Harry unwillingly ventured. "I think you saved Aunt Petunia from a situation she would have found terrifying. You defended her honor and became her 'white knight in shining armor'. Of course she fancies you." Harry gave an evil little laugh. "Sirius didn't need to hex her. Her natural reaction would have been funny enough for him. That and you acting so like a Gryffindor."
Snape only snorted in return. "I have fulfilled the terms of our agreement. Your oath is set." Casting another sleeping charm on Vernon, Snape pocketed his wand and left the room.
Yes, Harry thought, the oath is set. Numb at the thought, and still a little dizzy from the lack of clean oxygen, Harry remained seated at the edge of Uncle Vernon's bed. Out in the hall, he heard Dudley give a cry of fright. Tiredly, Harry heaved himself up from the mattress to save Dudley from his first encounter with Professor Snape.
Tbc . . .
So, was it too gross? Too unbelievable? Did Petunia really pinch Snape's bum? I would really love to hear what you think. It may save me from eight drafts of the next chapter! Please take the time to review. If you leave your email address I'll write back. Thanks!