Yet Another Snape Meets the Dursleys Story: by rabbit

            Disclaimer:  Tain't mine.

            Chapter 19: The House Elf

            Summary:  "And some kinds of help are the kinds of help we all can do without!"

            ************

            "Potter!"

            Uncle Vernon's shout made Harry freeze with terror.  His uncle was furious this time, and no wonder!  

            The glass shards in the mangled cereal box began to quiver, and then suddenly they all darted back toward the door, leaving the box to explode messily, scattering cereal in all directions. 

            "Get down here, boy... what the hell?!"  Uncle Vernon's roar of disgruntlement cracked, ending in a high pitched shout that was somehow worse.

            Harry jumped to his feet like a fishhook had caught under his navel and the line was reeling him toward his doom.  He barely managed to avoid stubbing his toe on the school trunk in the hall.  It was never a good idea to leave Uncle Vernon waiting.  It always made things worse.

            He stumbled on the stair, but managed to catch the rail and look over it, down into the hallway where Uncle Vernon was standing in the early morning sunlight from the window, his clothes a-glitter with small fragments of glass.  He was gaping at Dobby, who was nonchalantly socketing the largest shards into place in the doorframe.  The house elf selected another one of the floating sharkfins of glass out of the air and set it into place, melting the glass together again with a spark from his finger. 

Harry'd never seen Uncle Vernon achieve quite that shade of purple before.

            He tried to breathe quietly, but it was too late.  Uncle Vernon had noticed him.  For a fat man, he could turn amazingly quickly, and it was only the stair rail that kept him from grabbing Harry by the ear. 

            "Look what you've done, boy!" the man roared.

            "It's all right," Harry said hastily.  "Dobby's fixing it.  No one will be able to tell..."  He went sprawling as he backed up the stairs, watching as Vernon came around the end of the banister.

            "I'll teach you not to muck about with my home!"  Vernon took a fistful of Harry's hair in one hand and raised his other hand like a wall, ready to strike.

            "You leave Harry Potter be!" Dobby cried, with a whipcrack of magic that yanked Vernon away from Harry and left him hovering upside down against the far wall, a knot of black hair still in his fist.  The glass door, no longer supported by the house elf's magic, fell apart, shards turning into smithereens as they landed on the kitchen tile.  Harry curled up on the stairs, eyes watering, clutching at his head where it felt like half his scalp had been pulled out by the roots.  He could hear Uncle Vernon roaring again.  Upstairs, Aunt Petunia and Dudley were making screaming too. And over it all were Dobby's piercing cries of "Bad Uncle Vernon Dursley!"

            Unless Snape really were dead, he'd come sweeping down the stairs any minute now, like the Breath of Doom, and Harry'd spend the entire next term in detention, scrubbing floors with Filch, and it would be worth it.  Just to have someone else have to sort out the Dursleys.

            But Snape didn't come. 

Gradually, Harry managed to uncurl a little.  He wiped at his eyes with one sleeve. "Dobby," he said, and then repeated it, trying to get the attention of the furious elf.  "Dobby!"

"Yes Harry Potter, sir?" Dobby stopped bouncing Uncle Vernon against the wall.  He looked at Harry expectantly.

"Put Uncle Vernon... put him back into the lavatory, all right?  And lock the door.  He'll be safe enough in there." 

            "I demand..." Uncle Vernon began, but Harry had had enough of it.

            "Shut up!" he shouted, paling at his own temerity.  "It's better than the cupboard – at least you'll have water in there when you're thirsty."

            Uncle Vernon tried to choke out some kind of response, but it was too late; Dobby pointed a long finger and flung him, still upside-down, along the hall and into the tiny lavatory.

            Harry sagged.  "I wish Professor Snape would wake up," he groaned.

            "Dobby will fetch him, Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby offered, and started up the stairs.

            "No!  No, Dobby!"  Harry intercepted the elf.  "He needs his sleep.  Professor McGonagall said he was dormant.  And he must be, or all that racket from Dudley would've wakened him already."

            "Oooooh," Dobby's round eyes nearly bugged from his head.  "Dobby understands.  Dobby will not be bothering Professor Snape while he is dormant."  The small figure shook with some remembered terror.  "I will stop the racket, Harry Potter sir," he offered, and before Harry could think to grab him again he was off up the stairs.  

            "PROFESSOR SNAPE IS DORMANT AND YOU IS NOT TO BE WAKING HIM!" Dobby announced loudly enough for the neighbors to hear, and Harry groaned, waiting for the barrage of shouts and questions.

            But, to his astonishment, the noise stopped.  All he could hear was Uncle Vernon banging on the pipes.

            Maybe Aunt Petunia and Dudley had actually listened to Dobby.

            Maybe Dobby had done something to them.

            Harry scrambled on all fours up the stairs, and found Dobby coming back toward him, looking pleased with himself.  He started to ask what Dobby had done, and realized that he couldn't hear his own voice, even though he could still hear the banging below.

            Dobby smiled reassuringly and tugged at Harry, coaxing him down the stairs, and as soon as Harry's head was lower than the ceiling he could hear Dobby saying.  "...keep the bad Dursleys from bothering Professor Snape for two hours."

            "What have you done?" Harry asked.

            "House elf magic.  Is the Silence Spell to get the cleaning done without bothering the master of the house."  As usual, when Dobby mentioned having a master, his ears twitched nervously.  "No sounds made inside the Spell are heard."

            "But sounds outside the spell can be heard.  So if I shout something down here...Aunt Petunia and Dudley can hear it.  But if they say something, they can't hear it and neither can we."  It made sense in a house elf kind of way.  Especially in a house like the Malfoys'.  The house elves would want to hear the master of the house coming, but wouldn't want the noise of their cleaning to disturb the master.  "Good.  Well done, Dobby.  Can we use it on Uncle Vernon as well?"

            Dobby shook his head mournfully.  "Dobby is only to be casting one Silence Spell at a time."

            Harry sighed.  "That's all right, Dobby.  Go start cleaning up that glass, will you? Please?"  Dobby bounced off to obey. Harry went over to face the lavatory door, trying to think over Uncle Vernon's banging.  He didn't want to go get Snape's wand if he didn't have to, but what else could he use?  Oh yes.  Threats.  Snape other favorite choice.  But it would have to be something Uncle Vernon would believe...

            He knocked on the door.  "Uncle Vernon?"

            "What?  Let me out of here!" Vernon roared. Harry was getting very tired of Uncle Vernon roaring.  He leaned against the wall to keep from shaking so much.

            "If you don't stop making noise... uhm," Harry changed his mind.  Telling Uncle Vernon he'd miss breakfast would only make him louder.  "If you're not quiet, I'll turn you into a newt."

            "You're not allowed to use magic, boy!" Vernon answered, but his voice was considerably softer.

            "Not without supervision," Harry said firmly.  "But I'm not unsupervised, am I?  And Dobby will do it if I don't."

            "But... but... you can't intend to leave me in here all day!" Uncle Vernon protested, still softer.  "I'm still stiff from being in that cupboard all night!"

            Harry thought about the small room in front of him.  There wasn't much more space than was needed for the handsink and the toilet – certainly not enough for a man the size of Uncle Vernon to work out his stiffness.  But Harry's head still hurt from losing that clump of hair, and he remembered the look on his Uncle's face.

            "I'll think about it," he said at last.  "After breakfast."  And went to help Dobby.

--//--

            Petunia tried screaming again.  Nothing.  She wasn't sure what had happened, exactly, but it had to be more of that dreadful magic.  And there was someone – or something – new in the house.  She wasn't sure what it was, but that voice didn't sound human.

            She flung herself angrily onto the bed, which didn't squeak.  Through the air vent, she could just hear Harry and the new arrival talking in the kitchen. 

            "No, Dobby... Wait..."

            "Harry Potter sir will like eggs and bacon."

            "Yes, but you don't need to build a fire in the oven.  Look here.  See?  Turn these, and the gas comes on."

            "Clever Harry Potter..."

            "Here, stand on this.  I don't want you to burn yourself."

            "Kind Harry Potter..."

            Disgusting, grovelling thing.  Heaven only knew what damage it was doing to her kitchen.  She turned her thoughts to the announcement it had made.  Snape dormant?  Not to be wakened?  That meant he was sleeping. Off his guard.  If only she could get herself and Dudley to safety before the horrid man woke up...

            Petunia got off the bed and tried swinging the bicycle handlebars she'd found against the door.  There was no sound, but she didn't make much more than a small dent in the panel.  She tried again, but the door was solid wood, and it was obvious that she wouldn't be able to break through it after a few blows.  Angrily, she threw the handlebars aside.  They ricocheted off the wall, knocking free a lump of plaster from the drywall.

            A smile crossed her narrow lips.  If no one could hear her, no one would stop her.  Grimly determined, she took up the handlebars up and began to consider where to dig through the wall.