Ch 26

This visit was harder than when he visited Vernon Dursley. He had to be very careful. Not in the implementation, that was easy, but in making sure he didn't go too far. In making sure that he wasn't cruel. Vernon was an adult, a man who'd done and continued to do spiteful, hurtful things. Vernon deserved everything Snape had done and more. That was justice. This, this was far more grey. But something needed to be done.

Snape didn't consider himself cruel. He'd been forced to do some cruel things under Voldemort, but he'd done them to stay alive, and he hadn't wanted to do them, he hadn't enjoyed doing them. But Snape knew he wasn't a nice man either. But some people didn't deserve nice.

Severus cast a notice-me-not charm and stood across the road from the school. He'd made sure to be very unnoticed today. The general public have opinions about men lurking outside schools, just watching.

It was a pretty building. Red brick, with a clock tower in the middle, beige stone surrounding the windows and doors. Very early 1900s. Very much a public school. Very much not the school you'd find in Cokeworth. But it was very much the non-state school to which the Dursleys from Little Whinging would send their child. It was set back from the road, enclosed by low walls with black wrought iron railings on top and arched gates. There were a few horse chestnut trees inside the fencing. It was very… muggle, very English.

A bell sounded. Students exited through all the various doorways. There was something about the straw boater that told Snape everything he needed to know about the students and the school. That and the sticks. Not all students had sticks. It appeared that mostly older ones were carrying them. And the larger students. There was a certain level of terrorism going on there. The gates opened. Nearly all the students carrying sticks left the grounds. The younger ones, and the older ones who stayed looked relieved. There was definitely a pecking order.

Snape found his mark. He followed the students into the town. He noticed as they approached that a few local shops closed their doors and turned the signs in their windows to Closed. He walked past a closed tobacconist/newsagent and saw the shopkeeper watching the students out of the window. The man didn't look pleased. Snape cancelled his charm and politely knocked on the door of the shop. The shopkeeper saw Snape and hurriedly opened the door and let him inside.

"I do apologise, sir, but I'm sure you're aware of that lot. Every time, it is."

"Oh, no, I'm not from around here, I'm just visiting my sister. I can fully understand though, they don't appear like the sort of… customers… you want in your shop."

"Thank you for seeing that, sir, I'm sorry to inconvenience you. It's prize-giving day up at the school. They let the little darlings out into the town after lunch. The nice ones stay in school and the riff raff comes into town to cause chaos. We've written to the school dozens of times between us. It does no good. The number of us who find things 'missing' afterwards, it's ridiculous."

"Charming gentlemen in the making," said Snape, dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh, don't get me wrong, there are some really nice kids that attend the school, hardworking, polite. But there's an element that aren't quite so nice, if you see what I mean. Those two, for example," said the man, nodding out of his window at two boys upsetting the fruit and veg in the greengrocer's outside display across the road.

Snape stayed away from the window, out of the light. One of those two cherubs was his mark.

"Ah, yes, I can see that. Does the local constabulary not intervene?"

"Like they want a bar of it! The chief constable's son is the one just coming out of the pub on the corner!"

"Obviously. If you don't mind, I'll just wait a couple of minutes here before leaving, I'd rather let them get ahead of me. I'm going into town myself."

"Take as long as you like, sir. That'll be 40p for the paper." Snape handed over a few coins and waited until his quarry had just got to the bottom of the road. A safe following distance ahead.

Snape left the shop and headed towards town. Most of the students were well ahead of him. He passed a small park. A woman was comforting her young daughter who was in tears.

"Excuse me, do you have the time?" she asked. Snape didn't wear a watch, even when dressed as a muggle as he was now.

"Sorry, miss, I don't."

"Can you see down the street? Does it look like they're coming back yet?" she asked. "I'd forgotten what day it is. They're usually back in the school by one, Maisie here was frightened by the noise."

"Will they be coming back this way?" asked Snape.

The woman nodded. "There's only one road out to the school from here."

"I was in the newsagents just down there if you want to head that way. He locked his door to keep them out."

"Oh, thanks, I'll try there," said the lady, picking up her daughter and walking away.

Snape looked around. The park was empty. It was a pretty park. It's a long way from Scotland to Surrey and late spring was maybe three weeks ahead here. In Scotland the daffodils were just coming out, here the daffodils and tulips had finished and the lilac was in bud. There were plenty of green leafy shrubs and bushes behind which to hide. Lots of places for deeds to not be seen. Snape slipped behind some tall bushes and drank a potion. Its effect was immediate.

He sat down on a park bench on the edge of the road in full view of the street and waited.

The riff raff passed by. Once again, two of the last ones to pass by were the two he wanted. They nearly passed by without noticing him. The bigger boy stopped and stared.

"What the fuck are you doing here, freak?" he demanded.

His friend was just as shocked to see the person in front of them. "Potter?"

Snape's potion had been Polyjuice. "I got a free weekend, Dudley, I wanted to see where you went to school. To say Hi."

"Piers, I'll catch you up," said Dudley. Piers walked on. Piers always did as Dudley said. Dudley wasn't a small boy, especially since learning boxing.

Dudley waited until Piers was out of earshot. He did a quick scan of the rest of the park. Empty.

Smelting's Stick in one hand, Dudley advanced towards 'Harry', grabbed his shirt front and dragged him further into the park. Away from any witnesses who might happen by on the street.

"You, freak, have no place here," spat Dudley. "You belong with them. With the rest of the freaks." Dudley shoved hard and 'Harry' tripped and fell to the ground. "Never come here again. This is my world, you don't belong here."

"I just wanted to see...," 'Harry' started. 'Harry' saw Dudley heft his stick. "Please don't," he said, raising an arm. Dudley did looming well, advancing toward 'Harry' on the ground.

"Why not, freak?" demanded Dudley.

"Because the ghost of summer present won't like it," said 'Harry' quietly.

Dudley laughed. He brought the stick down hard. 'Harry' slightly twisted away from the blow and it landed across 'Harry's' upper back.

Dudley turned away, twirling the stick in his hand. "Never come back here, freak."

Snape sat up and watched the boy go. He pointed his wand when the boy was out of earshot and cast a tracking charm on him.

That blow had been surprisingly painful. Not for him, but on an absolute scale. If he'd been Potter, that would have hurt. A lot. That hadn't gone as Snape hoped, but about how he'd expected. He expected a spoilt brat, a bully, someone who picked on smaller children. But he hadn't expected that much 'Vernon' in the boy. Severus had wanted to see for himself how bad the boy was. Well, he'd sealed his fate. Was he redeemable? Yes. Was he going to get off with his crimes lightly? No. Snape would make sure of that.

Snape cast a notice-me-not charm, and drank a healing potion. Better. He went to a local pub for dinner and read his paper until it was time to be about his business.

It was late. Or early. 1am. Time when all teenageers, however troublesome, were asleep in their beds. Snape's tracking charm, together with Alohamora and notice-me-not charms lead him to a room, a dorm. School dorms were the same the world over. He silently opened the door. There were only two boys inside, Dursley and the boy Piers. Snape cast a silencing charm around himself and Dursley.

The boy was sleeping peacefully. The phrase 'How do you sleep at night?' is an easy one for the likes of Dudley Dursley. 'Very well, thank you.' You need a conscience to have a bad night.

Snape cast a memory charm on the sleeping boy, a clever little charm that he'd worked on over the years. The morning would be interesting. It would be a shame Snape wouldn't be around to bear witness to his handiwork.

He removed his tracking charm and silencing charm and apparated back to Hogsmeade musing how long he should leave the charm active for. A week? Fortnight? Month? Forever?

Dudley woke up in the morning. That dream had been weird. He lay there, trying to shake it off. Bloody freak. He'd dreamed about the ghost of summer present. A weird, eerie version of the ghosts in the book they'd read last year in class.

In his dream the ghost had been a tall man, dressed in black, wearing odd clothes. Robes, robes like the freak had. Dudley had seen them. Bloody Potter screwing up his dreams. If only he could see him today, he'd kick the shit out of…

"OUCH!" Dudley yelped. Piers snorted in his sleep and rolled over. Dudley rubbed his backside to alleviate the sting. He checked Piers was still asleep and threw back the duvet cover and tugged at the elastic of his pyjama bottoms. Not a mark on his backside. Why did it hurt so much?! He rubbed the residual sting out of it, assumed he'd had cramp or rolled over wrong and rolled back over for a lie-in. Dosing, he heard a chilly voice in his dream, "The ghost of summer present isn't happy."

Dudley woke up and sat bolt upright. The voice had sounded so real. His heart was beating fast. No, you fool, just a dream. He went back to sleep.

Dudley was eating breakfast with Piers.

"So, that was your freaky cousin, wasn't it?" asked Piers.

Dudley nodded. "Yeah, tosser. I showed him. That's what a smelting stick is for." Piers laughed. Dudley laughed, or at least started to. He had to clamp his jaw shut to not yell when his backside felt like it was on fire.

"You OK, Big D?" asked Piers, noticing the sudden change in Dudley's face.

"Uh huh," said Dudley, managing to hold it together. "Cramp in my hip."

He whimpered when he heard the voice in his head. "The ghost of summer present isn't happy."

When they left the dining hall, Dudley went to the nearest bathroom and locked himself in a cubicle. There were no marks on his bum but that had ached fiercely. Briefly, maybe for a minute, then had stopped.

It was the voice in his head that scared him. What was with that dream?!

A week later Petunia got a telephone call.

"I'll get it, Vernon, don't get up!" called Petunia, hurrying to the hallway to pick up the phone.

"Dursley residence, Petunia Dursley speaking," she said. "Dudders, how lovely to hear from you!... oh, honey, whatever is the matter?… You want your mummy?... Well would you like Dad and I to come over and see you? We could make a weekend of it… you don't?... what do you mean, 'It's the freaks fault?'... Have you seen him? ... I don't understand, darling, who is the ghost of summer present?... Don't cry dear…. Mummy's here… We'll bring you your favourite cakes and chocolate, we'll come and take you out for ice cream…. Everything will be fine…. It won't be fine?... You don't want us to come?... OK, well, I'll package up your favourites and send you them... Bye, darling Diddikins, talk again soon."

Petunia hung up the phone.

"How odd," she said out loud to herself. She sighed. She'd had a difficult three weeks. Vernon had been… off. She'd fielded a phone call from Mrs Harrison saying wasn't it a pity they'd been unable to make the golfing weekend. Vernon had then told Petunia he wasn't getting a bonus this month, which wasn't easy because Number 34 was building a conservatory and Petunia desperately wanted one. A bigger one than them, obviously. But the problem had been Vernon himself. Something wasn't right, he was jumpy. He turned more lights on and he checked rooms when he went in them. At one point a floorboard upstairs creaked when they'd both been downstairs in the living room reading the paper and he'd twitched, staring in the direction of the noise.

"You look like you've seen a ghost, dear," she'd said.

"Where?!" he'd demanded, clearly frightened.

Petunia would never tell Vernon she'd seen him look frightened. His ego wouldn't like it. But him being frightened, and now Dudley… she wasn't sure what to do.

It was Monday morning. Petunia had seen Vernon off to work. She'd made Dudley all his favourite cakes and biscuits yesterday, and today she'd packaged them up and they were on the little table in the hall waiting for her to take them to the post office. Nothing was too good for her Diddidums.

She was just finishing the washing up from breakfast when she heard a pop outside. She didn't think anything of it, it must have been a car backfiring. She finished up, humming to herself, planning her day, making sure she could fit in a trip to the post office in between her reading group and lunch with Mrs Emmerson from the PTA.

She dried her hands, put the tea towel over the radiator to dry and went into the living room to have a quick read of the paper before setting out for the day.

She gave a scream on seeing a stranger in her living room, just standing there, a tall man, dressed all in black.

"Good morning, Tuney," said Snape.

She recognised the voice more than the face. Twenty years changes a person. But the eyes and the voice, they were the same.

"You! Get out! Why are you here?" she snapped.

"I can hardly get out and tell you why I'm here, now can I?" asked Snape, deliberately being annoying.

"Why are you here?" asked Petunia.

"Think of me as the ghost of the summers yet to come," smiled Snape. It wasn't exactly a friendly smile. More the smile of a cat seeing a mouse.

Petunia gasped.

"Which one was it? Your husband or your son?" asked Snape, softly.

"Leave my son alone!" screamed Petunia. She couldn't do anything and she knew it. She couldn't run out of the house and call a neighbour, there was a wizard in her living room. She couldn't hit him. The only thing she had was to scream at him.

He flicked his wand.

"We don't need to disturb the neighbours, now do we?" he asked. "You seem to have very… neat… neighbours. It's not exactly Cokeworth here, is it?" he asked. "You've climbed a little, Tuney."

Petunia was afraid. Very afraid. This man knew too much. And she was afraid he might actually know her. She was afraid of what Lily might have told him. He might know what made her tick.

"And how is your husband? Has he seen any ghosts recently?" asked Snape, casually.

Petunia remembered the conversation when the floorboard had creaked. She swallowed.

"I'll take that as a yes. I believe he met the ghost of summers past. They were long summers. There's been a lot of them. Perhaps enough to regret how things have been. You're the one able to change the future, Tuney," he said, "You don't want to waste this opportunity, do you?"

Petunia didn't move. She wasn't quite sure what was going on.

"I don't..."

"Understand?" cut in Snape, "Perhaps I can simplify things for you. Your husband is currently regretting his past actions towards your nephew. Your son is currently trying to think nicer thoughts about your nephew. But you, you, Petunia, you get to plan nicer things for your nephew. Do you know why?"

Petunia shook her head.

"It's a nice house you've got here. Nice neighbourhood. Nice neighbours. Very middle class, very Little Whinging. You wouldn't want to lose it, would you? Imagine, if the past and the present came out, Petunia, imagine the future. The police cars. The arrests. The husband led away in handcuffs. The son going to a juvenile detention centre. The headlines, Petunia."

Petunia's eyes narrowed.

"Oh, please don't call my bluff. I'll even tell you which headlines. Let's see, 'Man arrested for imprisoning nephew,' 'Boy thrown in cupboard under the stairs,' 'Malnourished child left to starve'. There's so many to choose from, Petunia, it might even need a double page spread."

Petunia whimpered.

"You're very lucky, Petunia. You have a chance to rescue this situation. Your husband is going to be, from now on, a gentle giant, a pleasant man. Your son will never lay a hand on Potter again. I'm sure he'll learn quickly. Pavlov's dogs did. And you, you're going to orchestrate everything. Your nephew will no longer do chores, he's done enough for a lifetime. He will get three meals a day. He will get the usual freedoms of a fifteen year old boy. You will make sure of this. To protect your son and your husband. Think about it."

Petunia nodded very slightly.

"I'm going to leave you now. I'll be back nearer the summer holidays. To see how everything is going. I'll see myself out."

Severus walked out of the house. Petunia heard a faint pop.