"Can I ask you something?" asked Harry.

"May I, and that is usually the purpose of a mentoring session, Mr Potter," said Snape dryly.

"Sirius reminded me he's my godfather. I know that already, but he said he wanted to support me. What does he really mean?"

"Mr Potter, Sirius Black has been in prison for twelve years. He's been a wanted criminal for nearly another two. Sirius Black doesn't know what he wants. However, he is not making an empty gesture. When you were born he was chosen to be your Godfather. The idea being, that if anything happened to your parents he would take care of you. Everything got in the way of that. However, he is still not able to support you at the moment. He has… adjustments… to make. But you can believe he wants to."

"What should I do?"

"Why would you want him to support you? You don't mind living as a muggle in summer do you? You stay in the castle over Christmas and Easter anyway. What's the problem with keeping the status quo but maybe seeing more of Black over summer? The odd day or weekend visit, or a Diagon Alley visit?"

Harry was silent. He hadn't accounted for this. Fuck. He was not getting into this.

"Nothing. Thanks."

Unfortunately, Snape was looking at him curiously.

"Mr Potter?"

"No, yeah, thanks, that makes sense," said Harry, adjusting his tone to be the one he used at primary school when anyone asked how he was.

"You've brought whiskey, Severus. What do you want?" asked Minerva.

"That's not very subtle, Minerva," replied Severus, "I might just want a drink and you told me I couldn't drink alone."

"But you don't though, do you?" she pressed.

"No. I want information."

"I don't think you were supposed to let me know you're going to ply me with alcohol until I tell you what you want to know, Severus," said Minerva with a smile.

"What do you know about the Dursleys?"

"Ah, I see. Pour the drink and take a seat. Do you have an hour?"

"I watched them all day. They were very muggle muggles. Harry was going to get a very muggle upbringing. Have you ever been to the street?" Severus shook his head. "Middle class suburban climbers, the lot of them."

"He has a cousin," said Snape. "Does he ever mention him?"

Minever shook her head. "He never mentions any of them. The only thing he's ever said was that his aunt and uncle didn't sign his permission slip. They pick him up from Kings Cross, I presume they drop him off. There are a few muggle families that aren't comfortable with magic. His wouldn't be the only one."

"But do you think there's more to find out?"

"I watched them the day Albus left the boy with them. I watched them all day. They clearly doted on their son, he was the apple of his mother's eye. I didn't doubt their ability to care. The street and neighborhood seemed safe, it wasn't like Harry would grow up in a concrete tower block in inner city London, but I knew he wouldn't get an upbringing suitable for a wizard of Harry's abilities. Every single thing about that house was 'correct'. The rose bushes in the garden; the immaculate lawn; the carefully and neatly tied back net curtains; the colour of the car on the driveway; the cut of her clothes. Looking through the window, the house was pristine. If you ran your finger along the top of the door there wouldn't be a speck of dust. She wore a little pinny and had yellow marigolds to wear to do the washing up. A couple of people rang the doorbell collecting envelopes for charity. Petunia had already prepared her envelope, sealed it and handed it over. But that was the thing, Severus, she didn't donate out of kindness, instead she made damn sure the neighbours saw. That's what I mean. They played the part of suburban middle class down to their fingernails. Harry would not be getting a wizarding upbringing. I'm sure that's obvious to you."

"Do you, did you, suspect anything else?"

"What do you mean?" asked Minerva, suspecting she knew precisely what he meant, but couldn't possibly be right.

"You know what I mean, Minerva, did you think they'd mistreat him?"

"Severus!" exclaimed Minerva, shocked. "Do you think they have?"

"I want to know why he's contemplating staying with Black instead of with the muggle family he knows," replied Severus.

"I haven't seen any obvious evidence, if that's what you mean," replied Minerva. "I've come to recognise most of the signs over the years."

"Then would you mind if I investigate? For my own peace of mind? He's your lion."

"He probably should have been your snake. Start with Miss Granger. Then quiz Mr Weasley." Severus made a face.

"Miss Granger, thank you for coming. I presume you followed the instructions on the note and did not tell anyone that you are here."

"Yes, sir. Sir, why am I here?"

"Because I'd like you to answer questions about Mr Potter," replied Snape.

"What if, respectfully, I don't want to do that?" asked Hermione, keeping her tone perfectly polite.

"Ah, well, here's the thing. You probably do want to do that, Miss Granger, you just don't know it yet."

Hermione looked sceptical. Polite, but sceptical.

"Describe your first meeting with Mr Potter. First of all, his appearance."

"Sir?"

Snape ground his teeth, briefly considered hanging all Gryffindors up in the Dungeons by their toes like Argus wanted, raised an eyebrow and waited.

"I met him on the train. He was just a normal person. I'd read about him of course. His scar surprised me. He was shorter than I'd imagined, slight. But nice. Quiet. He was kind. He bought us all snacks when the trolley came down the train. He was just a normal person with no idea that magic existed before his letter had arrived."

"Surely the ministry sent a representative on his eleventh birthday? You had one visit, did you not?"

"I did, but nope. He got Hagrid. Apparently his letter was undeliverable." Hermione's eyes twinkled.

"Explain that statement. I see it amuses you."

So Hermione told him about what Harry had said about Hagrid calling and the mountain of letters, and the escape to the sea and Dudley's tail. She made it sound so 'fluffy'. Bloody Gryffindors, Severus thought.

"Does Mr Potter mention his cousin much?"

"They don't get on. I think Dudley bullies him."

"And his parents let him?"

Hermione shrugged, "I don't know."

"But you think so?"

"I think his aunt and uncle are afraid of magic, sir. Which I get, after the Dudley grows a tail incident before Harry started at Hogwarts, but they did put bars on the windows."

"Bars. On. The. Windows?" asked Snape softly, slowly.

Hermione looked at him worriedly. "I should have started there really, shouldn't I?"

"Yes, Miss Granger, you really should."

Hermione talked.

"And Marge is?" asked Snape.

"His Uncle Vernon's sister. Harry doesn't like her. He says her dog attacks him."

"Miss Granger, for an intelligent person, you don't seem to have grasped the implications of what you're saying."

"I don't understand, sir."

"Perhaps I can put it this way, to play devil's advocate, if you will. Mr Potter has been told nothing of his parents other than they were drunks who died in a car crash. His cousin bullies him, presumably at the tacit say so of his guardians. He is prevented from going out all summer because he is a prisoner in his own bedroom. I say prisoner because bars were installed on his windows. He even had to be 'rescued' by his friends. His uncle allows another family member to set their dog on the boy. They aren't concerned when he runs away. Tell me, Miss Granger, if these are the things you know about, what don't you know about? And more than that, why do you think this is normal?!"

"Oh."

Snape thought about speaking to Weasley, but shuddered at the amount of effort it would take to make him understand secrecy.