Yet Another Snape Meets the Dursleys Story: by rabbit
Yet Another Snape Meets the Dursleys Story: by rabbit
Disclaimer: Still not mine. Still belongs to JKRowling. Still.
Chapter 29 : The End
Summary: More unexpected visitors. And a resolution, of sorts.
New AN: The trouble with posting something in a big fat hurry is that you make mistakes. As in leaving out paragraphs. Important paragraphs. Paragraphs which you thought you'd got into the last revision and hadn't. And then you don't reread for months because your brain is somewhere else and when you do you feel like an idiot. Which is why I've broken the old chapter 28 into two parts (most of the corrections are in this half) and will be adding a lagniappe for all the folks who wanted to know what Snape is.
Dudley had never felt worse in his life. Not even the night that he and Piers had appropriated all the candy in the dorm from the first years' tuck-boxes and eaten themselves sick. Not even the first night that he had tried to sleep without leaning on the pig's tail that Harry's gigantic messenger had attached to his behind. Not even the awful days when Daddy had tried to outrun Harry's letters. There was something about the creeping cold that made him feel like he would never be happy again. That Harry and Snape clearly feared the things lurking in the front hallway only warned him that what was coming was going to make a tail or a tongue the size of a python look like child's play.
As if his memory had been merely clearing away the deadwood, it summoned up the sound of voices, and the dark of a closet, the damp stink of mildewing choir robes. He was eleven years old again, in his first term at Smeltings, and they were going to find him.
"There must be an explanation for it," the Headmaster was saying. "Every picture in the corridor upside down in the frame, and those four Fifth years bundled up in the curtains like caterpillars." That was the worst of it. Knowing that if Mum ever found out he'd be disinherited or kept in a cupboard for the rest of his life. It frightened him more than being turned on his head had, or the unpleasant discovery that there were bullies bigger than he was who cared nothing for the threat of parental intervention. For one horrible moment he had wanted to be like Harry and be able to make something happen, and something had.
"Not that a few bruises won't benefit that lot," came the sharp voice of the maths master. "And I don't credit their stories much. A great lump like Dursley couldn't possibly have managed to overwhelm them. He's big for a first year, but not that big."
"Well, I don't know what I'm going to tell his parents if we can't turn him up soon. They're bound to ask what happened and what am I to tell them? That he did it by magic?"
He'd never ever let himself wish that again. Not even when the Head caned him for hiding. He took three extra stripes in exchange for a promise that his parents wouldn't be told, and consoled himself with sweets instead. He'd done his best to forget it had ever happened at all. But the things in the hall were making him remember.
Snape went down blindsided by a punk girl with what sounded like a gun only it probably wasn't because she had purple hair and was probably a freak like Harry and Snape only Dudley didn't know if she was trying to help or not and even if she was she was entangled in Snape's cloak and then the power went out and there was nothing between Dudley and the cold but the darkness and Harry and Harry didn't sound like he was doing very well.
Come on, Harry. Do magic. Make them go away. Wave your wand and make them go... You can do it! Dudley thought at his cousin, desperately.
Harry was sick. Faltering. Maybe they'll take him and leave me alone. More memories came unbidden... Harry reining in impatience as he helped Dudley work on the book report for Snape. Harry sharing a grin as Piers and Gordon and the others beat a hasty retreat. Harry in the hallway, facing three masked strangers in Dudley's defense. Harry laughing, with him, not at him.
If Mummy ever finds out she'll never love me again.
But Harry needed help. Dudley took a step forward and took hold of Harry's shoulder, followed his arm with the other hand and made him point the wand at the heart of the cold. "Expecto Patronum!" he shouted, his voice cracking. "Come on, Harry, say it with me. Expecto Patronum!"
"Expecto Patronum!" Harry came in on the third round and there was a sudden flash of too-bright silver light from the tip of the wand. Dudley squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see, although a negative impression of huge capes -- too big to be Snape's -- still floated behind his eyelids as they'd been floating in through the door.
Harry went limp, and it was all Dudley could do to keep him upright, to keep the wand pointed. He heard glass breaking, and the crack of another gun; heard a girl's voice saying "Leave him alone! What has he ever done to you!" somewhere deep inside his own head; and then, suddenly, the press of cold eased away and Dudley could feel the sweat that had frozen on his face and neck and back begin to trickle downwards.
He opened his eyes. The lights had come back on by themselves somehow. Snape was still sprawled on the floor, although he had his wand held outstretched at the broken kitchen door and his face was a mask of rage and blood. The girl was still half-engulfed, trying to free herself of the last few folds of black wool. And a tall bald black man with a gold earring was standing by the refrigerator, shaking his head with resignation as he surveyed the scene.
"Harry," Dudley whispered nervously, shaking his cousin hard to wake him. "Harry. We've got more visitors. Harry? Harry!" And then his own knees gave way.
Snape only just managed to keep the Dursley boy from toppling onto Potter when he fainted. Fortunately, Kingsley Shacklebolt got off a spell that caught Potter. Casting a spell silently took a little extra effort, but it was definitely simpler than trying to say "Mobilicorpus" when your head was splitting from the pain of a re-broken nose. He puppeted the boy over to the nearest chair and made him sit before releasing the spell. Shacklebolt did the same for Potter, and then came over to help extract Nymphadora Tonks from his cloak.
"Sorry!" the young Auror said as she clambered to her feet. "Didn't mean to do that."
Snape waited. He still half-expected to be arrested, truth to tell, and this soon after a brush with actual Dementors he wasn't feeling any too confident about his ability to resist their influence in the long term. But he wasn't fool enough to take on two Aurors. Not the way he felt right now. And certainly not these two Aurors.
Tonks found her wand, aimed it right between his eyes. He didn't flinch as she screwed up her eyes in concentration and said, "Episkey," instead of a binding charm. Instantly the pain in his nose doubled and then receded.
"Tergeo," Shacklebolt added, cleansing away the blood. "McGonagall said you were having an interesting time, Snape, but she didn't mention anything about Dementors."
"The Ministry didn't send them?" Snape asked, accepting the hand Shacklebolt held out and letting himself be pulled upright.
"Not that I know of," Shacklebolt said, tucking his wand away. He went over to check on Potter. "He's starting to wake up. Is there any chocolate in the house?"
"The cardboard box, on the table." If Snape wasn't going to be arrested after all, he'd just as soon have another chocolate frog. "Don't give him anything that looks like a chocolate cream, though, unless you want him to sprout feathers." Which reminds me...
Tonks sauntered -- carefully -- over to the table to investigate the box. "You're really good with that cleaning charm," she observed, as the kitchen put itself to rights.
After years of repairing the damage caused by careless students in the Potions lab, I ought to be. The food boxes and jars and things he stacked neatly on the counter, the dishes went into the sink, the broken glass back into the door. The feathers Snape destroyed, deriving a small satisfaction from seeing them spark into non-existence. At least he had the energy and the concentration to do simple spells efficiently. The chocolate frog was still welcome, though. He turned the card in his hands -- another Dumbledore. "We could have used you here," he told the small image, which smiled beatifically back and raised its clasped hands like a victory salute.
"Aren't there meant to be two more Dursleys?" Shacklebolt asked, having got Harry started nibbling on a block of chocolate and shifted position to persuade the Dursley boy to rouse and do the same.
"Yes." Snape said. "But I'm not sure where the boy put them."
"Under the sink," Potter mumbled. He was beginning to recover his color again, although only in bright spots on his cheeks. "Professor Snape, who are these people?"
"Aurors." Snape wasn't going to explain more than that. Not to Potter, not yet. Let someone the boy had better reason to trust do the talking.
"See?" Tonks took out her identification for Harry to look at. "That's not my best picture, but I was nervous. I've only been an Auror for a year. Nearly didn't pass the test..."
Snape interrupted before she could go into her entire life history. "The uncle is a toad, the aunt is a shrew. I transfigured her after repeated attempts upon my life. The last one was with a cleaver."
"Good enough reason for violating the Abuse of Muggles Act for me," Tonks said. "A Memory Charm, a little cleaning up... Get you out of the house so she can't attack you again... No problem."
"Same for the man and the boy," Shacklebolt agreed. "Better they should lose an hour or two than we should have to..."
"No." Potter said firmly. "Not Dudley. He shouldn't have to forget."
"You can make me forget?" The Dursley boy stopped wolfing down his chocolate and stared at Shacklebolt. "All of it?"
"Do you really want to?" Harry asked quietly, and Snape had learned too much in the past day not to recognize the hurt in the soft voice. "All of it?"
Dudley bit his lip. "No," he said at last. "Not all of it." He smiled crookedly, and met his cousin's eyes. "There's parts of it were kind of interesting I guess. I mean, I learnt all sorts of things about owls." He pulled a silly face, and then grinned, and Harry grinned back. Snape restrained the urge to pinch his nose, which was still tender. Please don't let them start burping again.
"See," Harry said to Shacklebolt. "You can leave Dudley alone."
"I'd just as soon Mummy forgot though," Dudley was quick to say. "And Daddy. I don't think they like being animals."
Vernon Dursley was grateful to be put back into his own shape, but he'd have been more grateful still if he hadn't ended up crouched hands and knees on the dining room table. It creaked unnervingly and he scrambled off of it quickly, only coming up short when he found himself nose to wandtip with a huge black stranger, whose smile was quite as unnerving as Professor's Snape's scowl. "Er..."
"Have a seat, Mr. Dursley," the stranger invited, indicating a pair of chairs that had been set aside. "Your wife will be joining you shortly."
"Ow!" A young woman with ridiculous hair was carrying something over to the table. "Keep biting and you can stay like that."
"Is that Petunia?" Vernon asked, feeling a small spark of hope try to light itself. He didn't know if it was something about being a toad, but he'd been having the worst nightmare of his entire life, and he was still feeling chilled.
"It will be, if she has the sense to cooperate," Snape said. He had his wand out too, Vernon noticed, and Harry was negligently wielding yet another of the dreadful things far too close to Dudley. Dudley, he saw with some relief, seemed to be unharmed, but the freaks had him sitting in the kitchen, away from any protection his parents might offer.
Petunia must have heard, because she let herself be placed on the table, and much to Vernon's relief the only spell that anyone cast at her was one which turned her back to herself. With four wands pointed at her, she had no choice but to crawl off the table and come to sit next to Vernon. He put an arm around her, uncertain if she was trembling with anger or cold. Her lips were pressed tight together, and her eyes were snapping in a way that Vernon knew usually presaged a sharp word -- but she took hold of his hand and kept her mouth closed.
"What do you think?" The black man asked Snape. "Two hours? Three?"
"Wait," Snape said. "Might as well clear the ground before you cast the charm. Leave nothing undone for them to forget."
"What else needs doing?" The girl asked. "You've cleaned up most the mess."
Did Snape hesitate, just for a moment? Vernon wasn't sure. "I think Potter needs to be taken elsewhere. Somewhere he can recover. Somewhere he'll be properly cared for."
"Recover?"
"He was poisoned," Snape explained, and Vernon saw Dudley flush and duck his head. "Accidentally, of course," the tall wizard added. "And although the poison has been dealt with, he still needs a week or two of sleep and quiet. Unless the Muggle authorities are involved, I doubt he'll get it here."
"You'd c-c-call in th-the-the authorities?" Vernon stammered. "But you said..."
"That it would be inconvenient," Snape snarled. "Fortuitously, we have other options. Potter should be safe enough elsewhere."
"No," said Harry flatly. "I'm not going to go anywhere I'm going to get Ron or Hermione or someone else killed. At least this house is protected."
"And you've seen for yourself the limitations of those protections. The place to which we would send you has better."
"I'm not going," Harry said.
"It has of course the downside of having to endure the company of your dear godfather," Snape sneered.
Vernon had never seen that look on Harry's face. Never. "You'd let me go to Si.. to see him?" the boy asked joyfully.
"He's in the company of others, some of whom I trust to have your best interests at heart." Snape turned his dark regard upon Vernon and Petunia. "The same can not be said of these two." Vernon resented that. He'd always had the boy's interests at heart. Although perhaps not in quite the same way that Snape meant. He squirmed a little under Snape's stare, wondering if the dratted freak could read minds and trying not to think of the night he'd spent in the cupboard. They were going to make him forget, were they? Well that bit could go and gladly.
Snape tipped his head to one side, crowlike, and then gestured at Harry, giving an implicit order. "Go and fetch your clothes and things. Dursley, help him."
Harry couldn't believe his luck. It was almost worth being sick to get a chance to go and talk to Sirius properly. The two Aurors started arguing with Snape almost the moment Harry and Dudley were out of the room, but he didn't bother to really listen. If Snape was desperate enough to think of Sirius Black as anything like proper company for Harry, then the place where Sirius was hiding had to be safe enough to hide the Crown Jewels and half of Fort Knox. Maybe Dumbledore would be there too.
"Harry?" Dudley's hesitant question brought him up short as he started climbing the stairs. He stopped to look down at Dudley, who was nibbling at his lower lip. "Didn't you say that your godfather is a murderer?"
"Accused murderer," Harry said. "They never had a trial. And besides, I've met the wizard he was supposed to have murdered." Twice, he thought, and some of his happiness slipped away. Fat lot of good it had done to show Pettigrew any mercy.
"So he's not dangerous?" Dudley asked hopefully.
"I wouldn't say that," Harry said thoughtfully. "I mean, he spent twelve years in Azkaban, and it kind of left him... changed."
"Azkaban?"
"The wizard prison. It's guarded by Dementors. Imagine spending twelve years being guarded by those things that were coming after us." Harry shivered. He'd never suspected that Dudley would be brave enough to face the things that frightened him. "Thanks, by the way. I wasn't having much luck casting that spell until you helped." It had been amazing -- even better than Dudley planting a punch in Draco Malfoy's face. The patronus hadn't been his best -- just before he'd fainted he'd imagined that he'd seen Prongs' antlers on top of a huge ethereal boar -- but it had been good enough to hold back the Dementors. Thanks to Dudley.
Dudley colored up. "Just don't tell Mum, okay?"
"Okay."
They went upstairs together, and Dudley helped by collecting clothes onto the Big Bird blanket, while Harry changed into something warmer. Then Harry added Snape's quill and inkwell to the pile, and Hedwig's new perch, as well as his tin box and his toothbrush.
As Harry took one last look around Dudley sat down onto the bed beside the bundle and sighed. "You're not leaving anything behind this time, are you? It'll be like you've never lived here at all."
Harry nodded, trying to think if there was anywhere else he should check. "That should make things easy, shouldn't it? I mean, half the time Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon act like it anyway."
"Easy," Dudley said. "But not right." He laughed unhappily. "And Gordon's got my digital camera. I can't even take a picture."
"A picture?" Harry opened his mouth to ask why would you want a picture, I haven't got one of you when he realized that that wasn't what he wanted to say at all.
Dudley was scowling. "Someone's trying to kill you, aren't they? And if something happened, there wouldn't be... I mean, I've known you most my life. I'd like to have some kind of something. A memento. You know. Something. In case." He looked up at Harry. "Not a present, or anything like that. Just... something to hold on to."
Not easy. But right. Harry sat down beside Dudley and pulled the snowglobe out of his jacket pocket. "Think you can keep this safe from Aunt Petunia?" he asked.
"But that's your mum's!" Dudley exclaimed.
"Yeah." Harry hunted for words, found them. "Yeah, but... I think the protective spell is too, somehow. And maybe this is a key piece to it. I mean, I expect you're safe enough at school and all, but if Voldemort finds this house and there's no defenses..."
"Can I see it?" Dudley asked.
Harry took a deep breath and handed it over. Even with everything that had happened he was still surprised that Dudley didn't chuck it into a wall or something, but Dudley only swirled it around and set the owls to dancing. "Look," he said to Harry, with wonder and delight in his voice. "There's someone flying round the towers on a broom."
Petunia was only certain of one thing. She didn't want to be turned back into a mouse. Not with Harry's owl perching insolently on the standing lamp and staring at her with huge hungry eyes.
Everything else however... Snape had been joined by more freaks, including a battered old lunatic with a peculiar wooden leg and a -- literally -- roving eye.
"We're not ready I tell you," the one-eyed freak was saying gruffly. "I don't have a team in place, and from what you say, the boy's not up to flying any distance."
"Take the Muggle's car," Snape said impatiently. "No one would expect that, and Shacklebolt knows how to drive. As long as you can get Harry in..."
"That I can do," the old man said, patting a pocket. "I've got Dumbledore's note right here."
"Then do it. And the sooner the better. If an investigation were to begin by any other department at the Ministry..."
She couldn't follow it. Except for the part about taking Vernon's car, nothing made sense. Although if they were going to use it to get Harry out of the house, perhaps she'd get lucky and they'd drive it into a wall somewhere and he'd end up in a coma. That would keep him quiet for months and they could use the insurance money to buy a new model.
Vernon was sweating beside her, but she welcomed the heat. It had been cold under the sink, and for a moment there she had almost given into despair. But she was warming now. She traced the damage that had been done to her house, remembered the shambles that the freaks had made of her spotless kitchen. Anger boiled up inside her, giving her strength.
Harry and Dudley came back. Harry had made Dudley carry a bundled blanket, and was pretending to limp, although all he was carrying was a tin box and the owl's cage. He stopped when he saw the older man. "Professor Moody? The real one?"
"Yes. You can take a sip of the flask if you're wondering." What does he mean, the real one? Not that it matters...
The boy edged forward, albeit nervously, and much to Petunia's disgust did sniff at the flask, although he didn't taste it. He relaxed though. "Why are you here?"
"I've come to escort you out of here, as soon as you're packed."
"Okay." Harry waved Dudley up to the table where the school trunk was waiting. They crammed everything inside, and closed the lid, but Petunia found her voice when one of the freaks waved her wand and started to float the trunk out toward the front door.
"You are not going to use magic where the neighbors can see it," she ordered peremptorily.
To her surprise the bald black freak nodded agreement. "Not the wisest thing to do," he agreed. He came forward to loom over Vernon. "I will need the key to the vehicle," he said.
"My car keys?" Vernon said. "You can't take my car!"
"I can," the freak said. "But if you don't wish for me to do magic where the neighbors can see it, I will require the key."
"Oh, give it to him, Vernon. The sooner they go, the better." Petunia was watching Dudley. The poor boy was looking very nervous. If they've harmed one hair on his head I swear I'll pay them back.
Given the key, the tall freak picked up the trunk and went out with the girl. That left only two of them. Snape and the scarred man. And Dudley and Harry. Three against three.
"Come on Hedwig," Harry said. "I know you're tired of the cage, but it's only for a little while."
Hedwig hooted and came to him. Dudley watched from the safe side of the table as Harry fixed the cage around her. He was frightened. Petunia could tell. And no wonder, with the scarred freaks eye swivelling at him like it was. Just a little while longer, Diddykins, she thought. They'll leave soon and we'll all have a nice big dinner to make you feel better.
Dudley met her eyes and then looked hastily away, biting his lip.
"Ready, Potter?" Snape asked.
"I think so."
"Any questions?" the other man asked.
"Lots," Harry said, looking at Snape for so long that Petunia wondered what was going through his mind. "But I don't I'm likely to get answers," he said at last and nodded to Dudley. "Good luck with your diet."
"Wait." The word came out of Dudley like an explosion. "Wait. Just a minute." Dudley turned to Snape. "They're going to forget, right? They're going to forget everything, right up until the moment you cast the spell?"
"That is correct," Snape said, one eyebrow rising a miniscule fraction of an inch in surprise.
"Then wait." Dudley left the room, came back carrying some papers. "Here," he handed several of them to Snape. "That's my book report. I'm sorry it's not long enough, but I didn't get a chance to finish."
Snape glanced down at it, clearly startled. "There were... interruptions." He scanned the writing quickly, his eyes stopping now and then to rest at a word.
Book report? Petunia couldn't believe her ears. The freak had assigned her son something as ordinary as a book report?
Dudley turned to Harry. "You said you wanted this," he said, offering a page.
"The picture of Dobby. Yes. Thank you." Harry took the paper and folded it carefully to put into a pocket. "I'm glad you didn't forget."
"And this... uhm... this is my address at Smeltings."
What!
Petunia stared in utter disbelief as Dudley handed a second paper to his cousin and explained nervously, "I know you wouldn't write me here and I'd just as soon you didn't, but if you can use real mail, maybe you could write to me. Let me know... let me know that you're all right and stuff. I mean, you could send Hedwig, but she doesn't like me not that she's got any reason to, and I'm afraid of her. I don't know how I could write back, but I could try."
Write? Letters?
Harry stared at the paper, nearly as confused as Petunia was. "You could send letters to the same address that the Christmas presents go to," he said. "It must work."
"I never have anything to do with that," Dudley said.
"Of course you don't! You're a child! Children get presents, they don't give them!" Petunia couldn't believe her ears. What had Snape done to her darling boy? "Dudley, what are you thinking?"
"She won't give the address to me, you know she won't. Can't you write it down?" Dudley asked, ignoring his mother, who jumped to her feet, and was only stopped by the sudden wall of black wool in her way.
"I don't know it," Harry said. "But I'll send it to you, soon as I found out. My friend Hermione's bound to know."
"Get out of my way," Petunia hissed frantically at Snape, trying to ignore the wand he had pointed at her throat. She had to get to Dudley. She had to stop him before he became a freak like Lily. "Dudley, Dudley, darling, you don't need letters from that place. Why don't I make you a nice souffle? Something to settle your stomach." She called, coaxing, but Dudley wasn't paying her any mind.
"And a picture? I mean, if you want to. Just. In case."
"Sure. I know a boy with a Muggle camera." Harry went over to the wall, took one of the pictures of Dudley down. "And I'll keep this one. Just in case."
In case of what? "Diddykins! Mummy will get it for you. Anything you want!"
"If I gave you some money, could you send me a book about magic?"
Noooooooo! Petunia staggered backwards, colliding with Vernon, who had risen from his chair and was making small choking sounds. No! No! No! "You want to know about magic?" Harry asked.
"Yeah," Dudley finally looked toward his parents, and paled, but he went on. "Something happened once. At Smeltings. Just once. I... I..." he put his head down. "I think I made it happen," he whispered, but Petunia heard.
No. No. He's never needed anything. Never wanted anything badly enough... No!
"Petunia...?" Vernon's voice was cracking. "Our... boy..."
"Don't worry about money," Harry said. "I owe you about four Christmas presents already. And don't worry about the book. I'll find something." He put a hand on Dudley's shoulder. "It's all right. I expect even Muggles can do a little magic when they're scared enough."
Dudley let out a breath he'd been holding and pulled Harry into a one armed hug. "Don't get killed."
Harry hugged him back, red to the ears. "See you next summer."
The black bald man came in. "We need to go." he said.
"We're coming. We're coming." Harry pulled away from Dudley and grabbed Hedwig's cage, limping hastily into the night.
Petunia barely saw him go. She was still staring at Dudley, wondering what had gone wrong. Vernon was backing away from her, asking questions. Questions she had no answers to. Bad blood? But it was Lily. She was the one... How had she failed? What would she do? She couldn't think. Couldn't imagine...
Snape caught her by the shoulders, touched his wand to her forehead, a smirk twisting his lips. "Justice is strange, isn't it, if occasionally inconvenient?" he said so softly that only she could hear. "I can't think of any fate that might serve you better than you have been served tonight."
I can. End it. Turn me into a mouse.
She stared into the bottomless black eyes, waiting.
Better to be a mouse and be eaten than to have failed.
"You don't deserve this," Snape told her. "Obliviate!"
finis