One
Professor Severus Snape sneered as he scratched a large 'T' onto an essay that had been handed into him by a fifth-year Hufflepuff on the best potions to cure warts.
Mason Montgomery, you indeed have the intelligence of a troll, Severus thought as he slid the parchment to one side of his desk and picked up another sheaf of papers.
A quiet knock at the door to his office, caught Severus' attention but he didn't even lift his head as he commanded, "Enter."
"Good evening, Professor," Albus Dumbledore's soft voice intoned and Severus looked up, his surprise hidden behind a well-crafted mask of indifference.
"Headmaster," he set his quill to one side and motioned for Dumbledore to take a seat on the wooden chair in front of his desk, usually reserved for misbehaving students, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
The Headmaster sat down, looking quite comfortable as the chair creaked mutinously.
Severus could not recall a time when Dumbledore had visited him in his office before. Normally, if the Headmaster wished to speak with him, he would be summoned to his tower.
"I have a small errand for you, Severus," Dumbledore told him, as though he was asking him to pick him up some milk from the corner market.
"Yes," Severus said. If Albus Dumbledore was skilled at anything, it was his ability to draw out a conversation. Never one to come right out and make his desires known plainly, he excelled at dragging out everything from a simple comment on the weather or a request with maddening disregard for whomever he was speaking with.
"I would like for you to go to the muggle world, if you would be so kind, and check on our young Harry Potter," the Headmaster informed him.
Severus was silent for several seconds.
"Is there any reason in particular, Headmaster, you feel it necessary to send me?"
Dumbledore tilted his head up, peering at the damp ceiling, a slight smile on his lips.
"You, out of all my staff, are the most familiar and comfortable with muggles," Albus said by way of answer.
Snape's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. What game was Dumbledore playing at? If he wanted someone to spy on Potter, he could easily send McGonagall; she after all had been there the night that buffoon Hagrid brought the child to Privet Drive in the first place.
The Headmaster's gaze travelled downwards until his clear blue eyes met Snape's black ones. The Potions master knew he could not refuse Dumbledore's request.
Standing up from behind his desk, Snape drew his cloak around himself.
"I shall go at once, Headmaster," He demurred. The sooner he arrived in Surrey and checked on Potter, the sooner he could return to his office and his essays.
"Good man," Dumbledore commented and stood, taking the lead as the two men left the dungeon office and walked in silence to the main floor of the castle.
HP
Just the sight of the neatly manicured gardens and cookie-cutter houses of Privet Drive made Severus Snape wish to recoil in disgust. Winging over the neighbourhood, he flew straight for number four, startling the robins and sparrows hunting on the lawn as he landed.
Ruffling his feathers, Professor Snape hopped across the grass towards the hedge beneath the kitchen window. The screen was open so he could hear the Dursleys' conversation from his position.
"I wish you could something about those awful beasts using the garden as a litter box," Petunia complained to her husband.
"I can stop by the hardware store and get a box of rat poison on the way home tomorrow," Vernon told her in a placating tone.
"Would you? I'm sick to death of Mrs. Figg and her animals," Petunia sighed in exasperation.
"Not to worry, Dear," Vernon cooed, "I'll take care of it."
"I'm hungry!" Dudley's voice cried from just on the other side of the window and Snape ruffled his feathers, the child's voice grating.
Any moment now, Harry Potter was sure to pipe up as well. Severus imagined a pampered princeling, fattened with too much food and inflated ideas of his own greatness.
"Dinner's coming, Popkin," Petunia simpered.
"When? I'm hungry now!" came the reply.
"In about ten minutes," his mother promised.
Vernon Dursley chuckled, "Tyke knows what he wants and when he wants it."
If ravens could roll their eyes, Severus would have done so. Instead, he had to make due with closing his eyes and giving his head a shake.
The conversation lulled as the sounds of dinner preparations continued. There was the clink of silverware, the thud of plates and glasses being placed on the table. There was a creak as the oven door was opened and the delicious scent of roast chicken wafted out the window towards Snape.
Any moment now, Harry Potter would be called to the table, sauntering in a the last moment, like the spoiled brat he was.
Chairs scraped across the linoleum as the family sat down to eat.
Tilting his head in confusion, Snape peered up at the window, wondering if he had in fact missed something. Leaving the shelter of the hedge, he flew onto the windowsill and peered into the kitchen. There, at the table, the three Dursleys sat, enjoying their dinner with no sight of Harry Potter.
Severus sat, waiting somewhat impatiently as the Dursleys ate their dinner, so focused on the food that they did not see the large black bird peering in at them. Once the main course was finished, Petunia stood and went to the fridge, pulling out their pudding.
A tall, wobbly trifle of sponge cake, custard, cream and strawberries was set in the centre of the table.
Dudley, unable to wait to be served, stood on his chair and dug his spoon into the side of the dessert.
"Wait until I get the bowls out, Duddykins," Petunia admonished, though without conviction.
The boy ignored her and continued scooping globs of trifle into his mouth.
His mother brought out two bowls and helped herself to the dessert, giving one bowl in front of her husband and one to herself.
Perhaps Harry Potter was not home, Severus thought. He some children had dinner over at the houses of their friends, though as a boy he had never done so himself.
Perhaps he should return to Hogwarts, tell Dumbledore the boy was fine, and simply be done with this ridiculous errand. But, watching the Dursley's something kept Snape in place. He did not know why but perhaps it was his inherent distrust of most people and his life-long cynicism that prevented him from leaving.
Besides, the was loathe to lie to the Headmaster.
Shortly the dessert dishes were cleared from the table and Vernon and Dudley left the kitchen, neither of whom offered to help Petunia clean up. She did not seem to mind, however and worked quickly and efficiently.
Severus watched curiously as the woman took a plastic plate from the cupboard and scraped the leftovers onto it, an unappealing pile of chicken skin, fat, gristle, cold mashed potato, congealed gravy and the uneaten ends off roast carrots. Taking up the plate of scraps, Petunia left the kitchen and walked down the hall.
Rustling his feathers in irritation, Severus took off from the windowsill and flew to the front door, where, the centre pane was clear, surrounded by pebbled sections. Claws gripping the doorknob, Snape leaned forwards as far as he dared, and peeked into the front entryway, which afforded him a few of the foyer, the staircase to the second floor, and the narrow hallway where Petunia stood holding the plate.
The professor watched, fascinated, as Mrs. Dursley put the plate on the floor at her feet, bent down and slid the latch on the cupboard beneath the stairs to one side and opened the door. With one high-heel, Petunia slid the plate across the carpet and into the cupboard before closing the door and locking it again.
Confused, Snape flew back to the kitchen windowsill to find the woman returned to her tidying up as though nothing unusual had just happened.
The wizard sat watching the woman gather the dirty dishes and place them in a sink of soapy water for a long moment, his gut telling him that something was not right with the family.
Snape's feathers bristled as a sudden idea occurred to him: perhaps Harry Potter was not the coddled terror he'd been expecting.
The vision of Petunia pushing the plate of food unfit for a dog into the cupboard under the stairs flashed before Severus' eyes again.
He needed to find out what was going on with the Dursleys, if only, he told himself, so he could report truthfully to Dumbledore.
HP
Harry Potter woke from a doze at the sound of his uncle and cousin walking past his cupboard towards the kitchen. The boy shrank back, his heart pounding in his chest, until he heard their footsteps on the linoleum. The scent of dinner made the boy's mouth water and his stomach grumble with hunger.
In his dark cupboard, the boy stuck his fingers in his mouth and started rocking back and forth.
HP
When Vernon and Dudley had finished eating and left the kitchen to watch television in the parlour, Petunia gathered the leftovers of their meal to give to her nephew. Lips forming a thin line, she took the plate down the hallway and set it on the floor. Sliding the latch on the outside of the door to one side, Petunia opened it and pushed the plate into the cupboard without looking inside.
Locking the cupboard door again, Petunia wiped her hands against her dress as though she had been touching something soiled and returned to the kitchen.
Preparing the sink so she could wash the dishes, she looked up in time to see a large raven lift off from the windowsill and fly into the magnolia tree across the street. Reaching out with soapy hands, Petunia reached out and closed the window.
HP
Harry pulled his fingers from his mouth and scooped a handful of leftovers from the plate, eating quickly. Picking up the chicken bones, he crunched them between his teeth, trying to eat as much as he could before his aunt returned for the plate.
HP
Vernon and Dudley Dursley, sitting in the parlour, absorbed in a television program, did not even notice when the front door swung open and a tall, dark-haired figure stepped inside.
HP
Stepping out from amongst the pink and white petals of the flowering magnolia, Severus Snape strode purposefully across the street to number four, regardless of the muggles who might see him. His gut was telling him something was very wrong and he could no sit by any longer and wait.
Walking up the path to the front door of the Dursleys'' house, Snape took his wand out and waved it at the handle speaking a single word, 'Alohomora'.
Stepping inside, Severus quietly closed the door and walked into the parlour. Dudley and Vernon sat on the chesterfield, with their backs to the professor, so they didn't even know he was there when he pointed his wand at them and pronounced, "Petrificus Totalis".
As though they were mannequins, father and son froze mid-laugh, never knowing what had happened to them.
Turning away from the two male Dursleys, Snape walked left the parlour, walked down the hall and stood in the kitchen doorway. Petunia was standing at the sink, her back to him, washing dishes.
Snape again raised his hand but instead of petrifying the woman, said her name.
Petunia turned to see who had spoken and she let out a little shriek, dropping the plate that had been in her hands. Turning around completely, the woman jumped back from the broken plate and pressed her back against the edge of the sink.
Snape didn't know if she recognized him, nor did he care.
"What have you done to Harry Potter?"
Petunia looked him in the eye, "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I know you have the boy here, Petunia," Severus said, "Let's not play games."
The woman blanched, "H-How do you know-"
Snape interrupted her, "The boy, what have you done to him?"
Petunia, one hand climbing up to grip her throat, looked scandalized.
Realizing he wasn't going to get an answer, Snape turned and started down the hallway.
"Wait!" Petunia cried from behind him, "You can't just come in here and-"
She stopped when Snape reached out and unlocked the door to the cupboard under the stairs.
Bending down, he peered inside. There wasn't much light and at first he saw nothing, for a split second wondering if he had been wrong, but then a whimper sounded from the back of the cupboard and Snape knew his instincts had been correct. Going to one knee, he ducked his head into the cupboard and spotted the boy; curled up into a tight ball as far from the door as he could.
The sight of the boy cowering in the dark broke a chip of ice from Snape's cold heart and he recalled his own miserable childhood.
"I'll call the police," Petunia warned from behind him.
"No you won't," Snape answered calmly.
"Harry Potter," he murmured, "I am not going to hurt you."
The child shrank back and Snape moved even closer to him. Reaching out, he gently lay a hand on the boy's shoulder. Harry flinched but had nowhere else to escape to; the cupboard was too small.
"I'm not going to hurt you," Snape repeated.
"I'll- I'll tell Dumbledore," Petunia tried to threaten.
"As you wish," Snape reached his other hand in towards the boy and carefully drew him forwards.
Harry, seeming to realize that Snape meant him no harm, grabbed onto his shirtsleeves allowed the man to lift him to his chest.
Snape held the boy somewhat awkwardly for a moment. He was small for his age and very thin. The professor noted the boy's uncut hair, baggy clothing and bruised face.
Narrowing his dark eyes at Petunia, Snape turned from her and started down the hall.
"Vernon!" Petunia cried now, "Vernon, where are you?"
"I petrified him and your glutton of a son," Snape told her as he reached the door.
"What?!" Petunia shrieked.
Taking his wand out- the woman jumping backwards as though he were brandishing a gun- Snape waved it and the sound of the two male Dursleys laughing at the television could be heard coming from the parlour.
Yanking the door open, Snape stepped out onto Privet Drive and, pointing his wand at himself and Harry, apparated.
Author's Note:
Happy Birthday to my dear friend, mandancie!
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