Severus Snape made no effort to disguise the look of irritation on his features as he stepped into the roaring green fireplace. Arabella Figg assaulted him with a stream of vacuous pleasantries before he had even managed to cross the grate. Offers of tea and biscuits were made, observations provided on the fine weather they'd been having, the spawn of old acquaintances currently enrolled in his class were inquired after. All of this he cut short, using his most authoritative classroom tone. "Where is the boy's house?"
Mrs Figg seemed unfazed by the rude interruption. "Just down the road, number 4. Can't miss it. Well, I suppose it does look like every other house on the street so maybe you could. But I don't think you will, dear. Sure you don't want a brew?"
Severus could feel a headache forming behind his eyes. So this was the competent and reliable individual Dumbledore had seen fit to appoint as protector of his golden boy while away from school. Not for the first time, Severus wondered at how an extremely powerful and intelligent wizard was simultaneously capable of a level of idiocy which would put a first year Hufflepuff to shame. Severus made no further comment as he strode purposefully through the small house and let himself out onto the sunny muggle street.
Although he had made an effort to tone down his usual attire to just a plain black shirt and trousers with a light cloak, he felt out of place in this bright residential neighbourhood walking past identical neatly trimmed hedges and gardens. This feeling was shared by the residents, if the suspicious and occasionally downright hostile glares he received from passers-by were anything to go off. Mrs Figg had been right about one thing, the only thing to distinguish any of the ticky tacky houses were the shiny silver numbers nailed to the front doors. In short, this was exactly the place he would have expected Petunia Evans to end up. Rounding the corner, he finally came to a stop outside number 4 Privet Drive. Severus took a deep breath, taking a moment to curse the almighty headmaster for the 15th time in as many minutes since he had left the calm quiet of his potions lab. In the old man's office he had seemed quite convincing, but now standing in the driveway, facing down the house's dull grey façade he was sure there must have been someone else (anyone else really) who dumbledore could have sent on this meaningless errand. This was bound to be a quick visit, he reasoned, knock on the door, see that the boy was just as spoiled as ever, report back. Quick but still unpleasant, as if he hadn't made his hatred for Potter clear enough during term, he was now being forced to acknowledge the boy's existence during his free time as well. Not that he really had free time these days. Between his two masters, though Dumbledore took objection to being referred to as such, he felt as though he was being pulled in opposite directions caught in the middle of a tug-of-war game between two powerful wizards who viewed him as nothing more than a pawn to be controlled. He had to admit though, despite his faults Dumbledore was by far the better ally. The Dark Lord showed little difference in his treatment of his allies and his enemies, choosing to exert his power over both through pain and fear. Severus suppressed a shudder at the memories of his first encounters with the newly resurrected evil wizard.
He had eventually managed to explain away his questionable behaviour since the Dark Lords supposed death over a decade before. No, he had no idea that his master's soul had survived the killing curse. Yes, he had provided information on his fellow death eaters but only as part of a plea deal with the Ministry, as had the rest of those who had returned to Voldemort's ranks, with the others rotting away in Azkaban. No, he never suspected that Quirrell was working for the Dark Lord, or he wouldn't have tried to thwart his plans. Yes, he wanted to join the Dark Lords side when he felt the call through his dark mark during the final task of the Triwizard tournament but had thought it prudent to wait until he could slip away without Dumbledores noticing to allow him to return to his job as a spy should Voldemort require it. All lies of course. Except for the one about Quirrell, that had truly been a happy accident. These lies had to be repeated, unfalteringly during the first week of the summer holidays were the Dark Lord subjected him to harsh scrutiny, aggressive legilimency and copious rounds of the cruciatus curse. Finally convinced of Severus's loyalty, he had been allowed back into the death eater folds though nowhere near as high up as he had once been.
His recent weeks had been spent brewing vile potions at the Dark Lords order as well as performing the odious networking and brown-nosing required to move up the ranks of what was essentially a supremacist country club. Compared to that, Dumbledores instruction for him to check up on one spoiled brat seemed almost tolerable. Almost. He took some measure of dark satisfaction in picturing Petunia's face when she came face to face with the nasty boy she hadn't seen since childhood. The thought that he would not be the only one in a foul mood by the end of this operation motivated him to take the last steps to the front door and rap his knuckles against the wooden panels. After a moment, he was greeted by the woman herself, looking just as horrified as he'd hoped.
"Y-you!" She choked, wide-eyed.
"I'm here to see Potter, take me to him" Severus ordered, arms crossed impatiently.
"I don't care why you're here, there is no way I'm letting one of you freaks in my home!" She hissed, mirroring his stance.
"As you wish, if you bring the boy out here, we can simply have our conversation in the front garden." Said Severus raising his voice a touch. Petunias eyes darted around to the open windows of the nearby houses, her face pale.
"He isn't here." She said sticking out her bony chin.
"You're lying." Came the cool reply.
"How could you possibly know that?" She challenged, eyebrow raised.
"A simple tracking charm, if you like I would be happy to explain the mechanics." The wizard smirked, his voice still slightly louder than was strictly necessary. Though it had been years since he had seen her last, he still remembered with ease the fastest ways to rile the bitter muggle into cooperation.
Glaring at Severus with renewed vigour she relented, "Fine. Follow me. Quickly, before anyone sees you." She backed into the doorway ushering Severus in behind her.
The potions master cast a judgemental eye over what he could see of the pristine cookie-cutter house. Aside from the shoes lined up neatly by the door, the scene in front of him could have been taken out of a showroom. It seemed that the only thing rarer in this household than dust was the barest hint of personality. He sneered down his nose at the woman in front of him.
"Well?" He demanded.
Before she had the chance to reply, a man's voice called through the open door to what was presumably an equally beige living room. "Who was it, what did they want?"
Mrs Dursley hesitated for a moment until the owner of the voice stuck his head out into the hallway. He looked Severus up and down, moustache quivering.
"Oh no, I told that old coot before, I'll keep the brat but that does not mean my door is open for any more of you lot to come sticking your noses in." Mr Dursley had now fully entered the narrow hall and was standing, arms crossed, staring the other man down.
"Brat" was not the way Severus had expected Potters relatives to refer to him, unless there was some other child the family had taken in which seemed unlikely. Not that he disagreed, of course, far from it and yet an uncomfortable pit had formed in his stomach and was growing steadily with every word the man spoke.
"Dursley, I presume? I'm here to see your nephew, if you want me out of your house, I strongly suggest you take me to him immediately." Severus said coldly. The sooner he had laid eyes on the boy, the sooner he could leave, and the homeowners clearly wanted him to be here just as little as he did.
Mr Dursleys face turned an ugly shade of puce. "How dare you barge into my house uninvited and start making demands!" He roared, fists clenched tightly at his sides. "If you know what's good for you, you'll turn around and leave now before I make you!
Severus had drawn his wand in an instant, aiming it squarely between the oafs' beady eyes. "You will not be the one making threats here Dursley." His voice was barely above a whisper but he could see the other man was hanging on to his every word. Mr Dursleys face had turned from splotchy red to a sickly pale as he realised that he was not in control of the situation as he'd thought.
"Y-you wouldn't dare… And you can't try anything, the letter said you lot can't do any of your funny stuff outside of that blasted school." He said, voice shaking, clearly not convinced of his own argument.
"Unfortunately for you, that particular rule only restricts the use of magic for underaged witches and wizards. As it is, I both can and will. So I suggest you lead me to Potter unless you'd prefer I blow every door in this house off its hinges and find him myself."
Mr Dursley stuttered stupidly for a few seconds. He had gone cross eyed staring at the tip of the wand still trained on him. Wordlessly he pointed to the staircase. Severus flicked his wand where the man had pointed, gesturing him to go first. On wobbly legs, the Mr Dursley made his way up the stairs, shoulders hunched conscious of the wand pointing between his shoulder blades. He stopped outside what looked to be a bedroom door. Severus raised his eyebrow on seeing the padlock which had been crudely bolted to its outside.
"Open it." He ordered.
"Now look here, I hardly think the way that we see fit to deal with the boy is any of your-"
"Open. It." Severus was quickly losing his patience for the muggle. Any more time-wasting and he would have no objections to make good on his threats. Nothing a simple obliviate wouldn't fix, of course. Fortunately for him, Mr Dursley made his first intelligent decision of the day and held his tongue. Reaching a shaking hand into his trouser pocket, he withdrew a single key and unlocked the padlock on the door. This done, he backed further away from the wizard, eyes back on the wand Severus still held in his hand.
"He's in there." He said lamely, gesturing to the unlocked door.
Severus was surprised at the feeling of foreboding which washed over him as he put his hand on the doorknob. This feeling was soon forgotten as soon as the door had swung open exposing the dingy room. The metallic stench of blood filled Severus's lungs as his eyes fell on the misshapen lump lying in the centre of the otherwise empty room. It could only be one thing: Potter. Wand still drawn, Severus stepped over the threshold and made his was over to the teen. All thoughts left his head as he took in the scene before him. He let out a breath of relief as he saw the shoulders rise and fall almost imperceptibly, Potter was alive at least. He reached out towards the boy to cast a diagnostic spell, almost dropping his wand in surprise when the figure beneath him began to move. Potters head turned upwards to look at him, revealing a watercolour of purples, blues and reds across his face. One of his eyes was swollen completely shut but the other gazed at him with something like shock.
"P'fessor Snape?" The boy mumbled.
"Well spotted Potter." Replied the potions master with nothing like his usual drawl. "Can you stand?"
Potter slowly and shakily got to his feet, swaying slightly once he was upright. Severus was relieved to find that the boy was not as injured as he had first thought from seeing his unmoving body, curled in a heap on the floor. From what he could tell, most of his wounds were superficial, nothing life threatening at least.
"What are you doing here?" Inquired Potter timidly, head ducked.
Severus looked around the small room. "Where is your school trunk?" He asked choosing to ignore the boy's question. Potter shuffled his feet, still avoiding eye contact with his professor.
"Er… Downstairs."
"Very well, gather your belongings from this room and meet me in the entryway." Severus ordered before turning on his heel and swishing out of the room. The effect was less impressive than it would have been in his usual teaching cloak, but Severus had more important concerns on his mind at present. Namely, the location a certain moustached muggle. Now his worry that the Boy Who Lived's title had become past tense in every sense had been allayed …
Not that he held any affection for the boy himself, but he was a teacher for God's sake! Though many of his students would likely disagree, Severus did put some value in children's wellbeing, even if the child in question was Potter. Striding through the house, he was infuriated to find it devoid of life. There was not a single Dursley left on the premises. He ground his teeth in anger as he looked out the front window seeing that the family car was missing from the spot it had occupied when Severus had entered the house.
Coward.
Severus took a deep breath to calm himself as he heard Potter shuffling down the stairs. Looking over he saw the boy had a mostly empty raggedy rucksack slung over his left shoulder and a large bird cage in his arms. If those were all the belongings he'd bothered to pack, far be it from Severus to stand in his way. The boy would have to deal with the consequences when he inevitably found himself missing a prized position later down the line, Severus would certainly not be escorting him back to collect it. The image of the barren bedroom he had found the teen in flicked through his mind but Severus shook it away.
"Where is your school trunk?" He asked. While his tone was far from friendly, he made the effort not to sound openly hostile. The details of the boy's situation could be analysed by the headmaster, for now his only priority was to ensure the boy was escorted back to Hogwarts where his wellbeing would cease to be his problem.
Potter pointed to a small door underneath the staircase wearing an expression Severus could have sworn was embarrassment. With a wave of his wand, the door swung open revealing a small cupboard containing, as promised, a large trunk bearing the Hogwarts crest.
"We're leaving, if you have any other possessions in this house which you will require, I suggest you get them now." Severus waited of a beat and, when the boy remained motionless, looking at him expectantly, continued,
"Very well, follow me."
Without looking back, Severus made his way out of the house and back along the street to the old lady's house he had arrived at. It was only once he had rapped the ornate cat head knocker that the boy spoke again.
"This is where Mrs Figg lives, what are we doing here?" Came an uncertain voice from behind.
"We shall be utilizing the floo network connection in this house to return to Hogwarts." Was the short reply.
"Floo… but I thought only magical houses had.. Wait…" Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes, he could almost hear the cogs turning in the boys brain.
"Is Mrs Figg a witch?"
"A squib." Severus could tell the teen was about to launch a barrage of questions but thankfully the woman herself finally answered the door at that moment. Before she could get so much as a word out, the potions master cut in.
"We require the use of your floo, urgently if you please." The old lady stared at him and then at the worse for wear teen.
"Of course, come on in." Said the woman, looking flustered. She led them through to the fireplace Severus had emerged from no more than 20 minutes ago. Her gaze lingered on Harry's bruised face before she spoke.
"You take care of this young man, you hear mister Snape? He's always been a good boy, very polite. Far better than that damn Dursley boy, nasty piece of work he is." She looked Severus up and down, sizing him up.
"Future care of the boy will be decided by Albus Dumbledore as well you know. My job is merely to escort him out of immediate danger." Sneered Severus as he took the floo powder jar from the mantel piece.
"How do you know Dumbledore?" Asked the boy incredulously as Mrs Figg wagged her bony finger at Snape.
The potions master shoved the jar into his hands before the old lady had the chance to respond.
"Go to Dumbledores office, I shall follow." He ordered. To his credit, the boy made no further protest, simply grabbing a handful of floo powder and passing the jar back.
"DUMBLEDORES OFFICE!" He cried, stepping into the fireplace and throwing the handful of powder to his feet. The boy was immediately engulfed in a whirl of green flames as he spun out of sight.
Before Snape had the chance to do the same, Mrs Figg spoke again,
"It was Professor Dumbledore what put him in with that family in the first place. Now I'm not saying he don't know what he's doing, but someone needs to be looking out for the boys' best interests. So far you seem the best for the job"
Severus didn't respond, he only stared at her for a moment before remembering himself and releasing the powder from his clenched fist.
"Headmaster's office, Hogwarts." He growled.
He watched for a few seconds as the old woman in her kitschy living room spun around his vison before dissolving in the magical flames.