I don't own it.

Just to reiterate, this story is written. Completely. I have finished writing it. So there will be no rushed ending like Concerning Nightmares had.

Enjoy!

Defeating the Dark Lord

The Dursleys

"Shall we press on?" Snape inquired.

Harry glanced at him, and looked pointedly at the fog surrounding them. "Sure. Where to?"

Snape swatted him across the back of his head. "Brat," his voice took on its typical lecturing tone, "Everywhere and everyone that has or had an impact on you is given form within your mind. That same mind just so happens to be where we are now."

"How do you know where we are?"

"Have you forgotten who taught you Occlumency? I'd wager a small fortune I know your mind better than you do."

Harry raised his eyebrow in a perfect mimic of Snape. "How much is a small fortune?"

Severus snorted. "I don't want your money, Potter. I can prove it right here and now, no incentive needed. For instance..."

Harry promptly shifted his gaze to stare over Snape's shoulder.

Severus chuckled. "Oh, I don't need eye contact to help, Harry, not when we're standing right in the coils of your subconscious. I wonder what would happen if I said... cupboard?"

Images formed in the mist. Stairs. A door. A miserable crawl-space beneath the stairs, featuring a camp-bed and a scrawny ten-year-old.

There was a peculiar glint in Snape's eyes. "Parents."

Being hugged by Mrs Weasley when he was fourteen, and it was his first memory of being hugged like this, as though by a parent. A flash of green light, and a terrible, terrified, pleading scream. Petunia, talking, "In the car crash when your parents died."

Snape's eyes were glittering strangely, and it took Harry a moment to recognise it as pure fury - and his voice was a snarl as he struck again. "Dursley."

Petunia, "I was the only one who saw her for what she was - a freak!"; Vernon, "I'm not having one in the house! Didn't we swear when we took him in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?"; Marge, "Have you been beaten often?" "If there's something wrong with the bitch, there'll be something wrong with the pup - "; Vernon again, "You're going the same way as your useless parents - "; and back to Petunia, "I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as - as - abnormal - and then she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!"

There was a strained silence, broken only by harsh breathing - and then Severus spoke, in a deadly whisper, voice vibrating with anger, "I'll be right back," and he disappeared.

"No - Severus!"

But it was too late - he was gone.

Dammit! Harry had seen the barely restrained fury in Snape's eyes, knew that he was most likely heading for Privet Drive - but how to get there?

I need to get to Privet Drive, I need to get to Privet Drive, I need to get to Privet Drive -

Focusing with everything he had, Harry stepped into a turn -

- the world dissolved in a nauseous whirl of colour and sound -

- and he emerged at the wrong end of Privet Drive.

Swearing under his breath, Harry broke into a run.

He sprinted down the road, blinking at the brightness of the world after being surrounding by dull fog; past Mrs Figg's, past old man McArthur's, past the high hedges of Number 6 and into Number 4, where he took the front steps two at a time and burst through the front door.

Muffled shouting came from the cupboard under the stairs - that would be Dudley; Vernon was lying on the floor in the living room, trussed up like a pig; and Petunia -

Petunia was shrinking back against the kitchen wall, eyes wide, as a very angry Severus Snape advanced upon her, wand pressed to the pulse point under her bony jaw. They were clearly in the middle of a conversation of sorts.

" - nothing to say, Tuney?" he was sneering.

Petunia darted a panicked look towards Harry before focusing once more on Severus. "I - I don't know what - "

"YOU - SHOULD - HAVE - LOVED - HIM!" The words were a roar. "You should have taken him in, out of the kindness of your shriveled heart, and loved him for himself! Or if you couldn't do that, loved him because he was Lily's child! Loved him as his mother did! As any blood relation would! LOOK - AT - HIM!"

Petunia turned her terrified gaze to Harry. Snape followed suit, glancing back over his shoulder, and Harry saw that his eyes were wild with fury, teeth bared in a snarl, before he looked back at Petunia. "How can you not love him? His Godfather spent twelve years in Azkaban, hadn't known him for five minutes and he loved him! Even I love him, and I spent twenty years wishing death upon his father!"

Panting with emotion, shaking with fury, he holstered his wand and, in one smooth movement, raised his hand as if to strike her.

Petunia closed her eyes in anticipation of the blow.

Severus halted, hand upraised, shoulders shaking. His muscles were straining as if under great pressure, as if the only thing staying his hand was sheer willpower.

And then he spoke, in a low, anguished voice. "I am not my father. I am not Tobias Snape. I will not become him. I will not strike a female, nor raise a hand against a child."

His hand dropped; he swallowed convulsively and murmured, "You should have loved him, Petunia. Remember that."

And then he turned and brushed past Harry.

Halting on the street outside, Severus met Harry's eyes, his own filled with dull grief and horror and rage.

"Hogwarts."

He vanished.

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