The Best Revenge

A.N.-Please excuse the hasty, unproofread work here. I just returned from a quick trip to D.C. to take care of yet more ailing relatives! As my grandmother said, "It's a great life if you don't weaken!"

Chapter 11

By the time Snape had returned from Magical Home and Garden, it was noon. He popped back to Privet Drive with his purchases, and was baffled when he attempted to open young Potter's door, and could not.

"Alohamora!" he incanted, waving his wand at the door. The door remained obstinately closed.

"Is that you, Professor?" the boy called out from within.

"Of course it's me," Snape growled. "Were you expecting Merlin?"

The door was flung open, and the boy was there, green eyes bright as ever his mother's had been, a huge grin on his face. "It worked! Come in, sir."

Minerva was sitting in the middle of the room, at a small table set for three. "Of course it worked, Mr Potter. You cast the ward very nicely."

"Wards?" Snape raised a brow at Minerva. "You've been letting the boy use his wand? I'm shocked, shocked to find rule-breaking going on in here!"

Harry could hardly hold in his delight. "I didn't use my wand! Professor McGonagall's been teaching me how to cast a ward by carving runes! And I did it!"

Snape frowned and set down his packages. He was no expert in runic wardings, but he knew the symbols must be somewhere-

Harry grinned even more broadly and pointed to the doorsill. Snape squinted, and bent to look. Sure enough, three little runes were scratched into the wood-very unobtrusively. He might never have noticed, had they not been pointed out to him. With the door shut, they were invisible. "How sly and cunning of you," he remarked-more to taunt Minerva than to tease the boy.

Minerva only laughed. "One can't be too careful. Sit down with us, Severus. Muffy, you may serve the luncheon now."

A little house elf appeared, bearing a heavy, fragrant tray. In a flash, food was before them, and the elf was gone. Harry beamed at Snape. "That's Muffy! She's brilliant! I told her everything I like to eat-"

Minerva added dryly, "-and I told her everything you ought to eat."

Harry blushed, and subsided, still smiling. "I like everything, anyway." He fidgeted, eyes on his glass of milk and his plate of sandwiches and fruit salad.

After a morning of Petunia and muggle functionaries, not to mention his visit to the home repair shop, Snape was glad of the meal. He saw the boy watching him furtively, green eyes veiled by his thick black eyelashes. Minerva noticed, too, and smiled quietly to herself, her spoon dipping neatly into her Scotch Broth. Minerva always ate lightly in the middle of the day-nearly always soup.

Snape made a careful show of unfolding the napery, choosing the appropriate utensil, holding it correctly, and eating with a minimum of noise. After a moment, the boy followed suit, correcting his grip on his own fork. Snape wondered if the boy had been allowed to eat with his family. Even if he had, Petunia probably would not have bothered to teach nice manners to a "freak."

While they ate, Snape brought up their next project. "If you have the time, Professor McGonagall, I thought we might create the bathroom next."

She smiled. "I am quite at your disposal, Professor Snape."

After thinking it over, Harry asked, "Where are you going to put a bathroom? The room's pretty full already."

"We're going to expand your closet, Mr Potter," Snape told him. "It is usually possible to expand space magically to some degree. We will enlarge your closet, and use most of the space for your bathroom fixtures. Other than the lavatory and toilet, you'll only have a shower. I don't think the muggles produce enough hot water to make a tub satisfactory for you."

"A shower would be great! But don't you need special wizard workmen to do that? If Uncle Vernon needed another bathroom, he'd have to hire someone."

Snape nodded, "Ordinarily, one would hire a wizarding builder. However, that would compromise your location, and besides, I've put in a bathroom before."

"Professor Snape is a man of many talents," Minerva observed drolly.

Giving her a look, Snape decided to tell the truth. "When I was a boy, Mr Potter, I also lived in a muggle house. We were poor, and we didn't have a bathroom at all. There was a common wash house in back for everyone in our street. I can see from your expression that you don't think that was very pleasant. It wasn't. One of the first things I did when I was of age was put a bathroom in my house. I had little money to spare, and I learned how to do it by myself."

The boy did not look scornful. His expression was openly admiring, in fact. "That was really clever of you, sir."

"I'm sure you understand why you must never tell this story to anyone else."

"I won't, sir. I promise," Harry said earnestly. "I know how rotten people can be when they think somebody is poor."

They talked more generally: about the room's improved furniture; the value, both educational and aesthetic, of the runic wall border; and about some of Dudley's leftover possessions, which were now Harry's.

"I have a set of hieroglyphic stamps. They came with a little book and everything. Dudley thought they were stupid, but since they're another kind of rune, I'm going to keep them."

"They're a very nice study aid, Mr Potter," Minerva told him, "but if you are using them for magic, it's better to write them yourself."

"Or carve them," Harry said thoughtfully, remembering the morning's lesson.

"Exactly."

"Just how strong is that ward?" Snape asked Minerva.

"Quite strong, in fact. Fairly simple, but powerful all the same. Unless one knows that the runes are there, it iwould require great power to get past the ward, because ordinary charms won't work against it. Mr Potter made a promise to me," she said sternly, "that he won't teach it to anyone else."

Harry nodded agreeably, and then grinned. He told Snape. "When Professor McGonagall was a student, she heard about some boys years before who used it to ward all the girls' toilets. They had to threaten to send everyone home to make the boys confess and tell them how to get in, and then they had to replace the doors and door frames. So now all the students have to make a vow not to use it for pranks or tell any of their friends about it."

Snape raised a brow, somewhat impressed. No one had in fact ever told him about such a ward. "How did the elf get in, then? Does the ward not bar elves?"

Minerva smiled in a very superior way. "It does, but Mr Potter gave her the freedom of his threshold, as he did me."

Harry hastily swallowed a bite. "And I will you too, sir, but Professor McGonagall and I wanted to surprise you first."

Snape snorted, rather amused. "When we add your new entrance, you must ward that as well."

"I won't forget, sir." Harry's attention was diverted by his plate. "Strawberries are very good," he remarked, like a researcher announcing a new discovery.

Snape and McGonagall exchanged a glance.

The stabilising charms were no challenge to a witch of Minerva's calibre. Snape admitted to himself that it was a great help to have another wand when doing this kind of work. He had reviewed the necessary charms before casting, and found it all rather enjoyable.

The closet was completely emptied, and then the space was rotated inwards 90 degrees, using as the axis the front corner nearest the hall door. It was a small closet: only six feet wide and two deep, but the closet proper was now in a new wizarding space. A square six feet by six feet was available for the bathroom. The closet light was left in place. Self-replicating tiles for ceiling, floor, and walls were up in minutes.

The boy watched in delight as a single wall tile copied itself over and over, covering the walls-and then all the tiles adjusted their size at once, fitting the space perfectly. The ceiling tiles were up, and adjusted themselves, and became an expanse of flawless white plaster. Harry read the wrappings, studying the charms.

"Could I keep these?" he asked.

"If you like." Snape was studying the little room, deciding where to place the fixtures.

"Did this cost a lot of money?" Harry asked, looking at the triangular shower stall that Professor Snape was enlarging to its normal size in the far corner.

"It's nothing for you to worry about," Minerva told him. "Consider it a present."

"But-"

Snape straightened, and said, in a voice that closed discussion, "Your parents contributed a great deal of their money to the war against the Dark Lord, Mr Potter. We discovered that a little of that money was left. It is only fair that you get some benefit from it."

He flicked a look at Minerva, who studied the ceiling with great composure. Plenty had been said at last night's conference. In the end, Albus had not proved impossible to persuade. If he absolutely insisted that the boy remain under this roof, he understood that he must pay a price for both his professors' cooperation.

Not that The Order of Phoenix was especially flush with funds. Snape reveled in bitter satisfaction, in pleased contempt, whenever he thought of how James Potter had squandered his child's inheritance. Minerva had been fond of Potter, and made excuses for him: his youth, his fathers premature death and failure to teach his son about estate management, the desperate needs of the war.

Snape smiled quietly, knowing all the excusesl were rubbish. James Potter, the Golden Boy of Gryffindor, was a bad father who had compromised his orphaned child's prospects. Whatever steps he had taken to keep his family safe had been pitifully inadequate. He had staked everything on his best friend, who proved a traitor. He was dead, and his stupid arrogance had killed Lily and would have killed the boy, save for a magical anomaly. He had left his child without protection, without a home, without reasonable provisions for his future. The money remaining at Gringotts was there only because Potter had not lived to spend that too. Plenty of families had opposed the Dark Lord, but they had not sacrificed their children to the struggle. The Longbottoms had suffered, but still lived at Longbottom Lodge. The Weasleys were ardent Dumbledore loyalists, but Molly would never consider allowing Arthur to sell-or lease-the Burrow. In fact, if the Potters had stayed at their ancestral manor, they might well have been safe behind hundreds of years of-genuine-blood wards. The estate he knew, was Unplottable, and they might have hidden there forever, safe on the grounds of the estate, even if the Dark Lord held sway over all England.

He wondered if Dumbledore had suggested the lease to them. He knew the old man was ruthless when in pursuit of a larger goal. And he had to admit that there was some slight excuse for them. James and Lily had been very young, and naturally followed their mentor's lead. Lily had had little patience with pureblood pretensions and the emphasis on landed property. It did not excuse Potter to the same degree, Snape felt. Leasing an ancestral property away from one's own child was cause sufficient to earn the name of Blood-Traitor. Snape sneered. Here he was, doing more for Potter's child than the idiot had ever done himself. He, Severus Snape, was more a father to the boy than that foolish, careless-

"Doesn't that need a pipe or a drain or something?" the boy was asking him, looking curiously at the bowl of the toilet.

"No. It's charmed to vanish the contents."

Snape charmed it in place, and then charmed up some racks for towels, and a mirrored cupboard above the lavatory.

"Where do things go when they're vanished?" Harry wondered.

Snape scowled at Minerva, who was smiling knowingly at him. She had used some old grey socks to make fluffy towels in the same shade of bluish green the boy favored.

"These particular charms send vanished material to the interior of Stromboli, a volcano off the coast of Sicily. It is immediately incinerated there. Look for it tonight on that globe of yours."

"Cool. What are those?" Harry asked, pointed at some long flexible tubes.

"These, Mr Potter," Snape told him patiently, "are your pipes. I attach them to the shower. So-and-so. When I pronounce the charm for this one, it will grow and move through wizard space, locating a water pipe to attach itself to. This one" -he displayed the thinner tube-"will seek out the source of hot water. The muggles will not notice them. After I say the charm, I will do likewise for the lavatory. You will always have clean water available."

Harry listened carefully, while Snape cast the charms. He stepped back, a little alarmed, as the tubes burrowed into the wall like questing snakes. A faint echoing whisper hinted at their movements. The taps chimed a musical tone to signal that the connection was complete.

"Go ahead," Snape told Harry. "Turn on the taps."

"Amazing!" Harry splashed his hands in the running water.

"Well done, Severus!" Minerva seconded the applause. "But I do want to add my own touch. It's a little dark in here. How about a window?" She looked very mysterious, and added, "A window that no muggle can see? You'll find this interesting, Mr Potter. It's another runic spell called Finn's Window. I think it an interesting example of using a runic diagram to effect a Transfiguration."

Snape watched. This was new to him.

Minerva used her wand to draw four concentric circles on the wall beside the shower. "You can also simply draw the circles by hand," she told the boy.

Harry murmured, "But that's not a wall to the outside."

"Doesn't matter," she answered a little sharply, intent on the symbols. Short lines cut through the circles at odd angles. When she was done, she tapped the center and called out, "Fiat Lux, Finn!"

Instantly there was a round window with a double frame of dark wood. Daylight streamed in, but only light. It was like light through frosted glass. Whatever the window was made of, it was translucent, not transparent.

"Will there always be light?" Harry asked, feeling a little intimidated. He had heard of changing rats into horses and pumpkins into coaches. He had even seen boxes become furniture, but this light seemed very peculiar to him.

"Only as long as it really is light outside," McGonagall answered.

"Can you open the window?"

"No. If you looked behind it at the wall, you would not see anything. There are runic spells for Finn's Eye and Finn's Portal, as well. But the Eye is too complicated and time-consuming for today, and there would be no way to keep the muggles from seeing the Portal, certainly. Or hearing the noise," she added wryly. "It's very old magic in my mother's family. These days, wizards and witches apparate or use portkeys or Floo. Finn the Enchanter was an ancestor of mine, and he used the Portal to escape from a dungeon underground."

"Handy, if you're in a dungeon without a wand," Snape commented. He wondered if he could recreate the window. The markings probably needed to be precise. He would need to study them in a penseive.

Minerva found the folding doors he had purchased to separate the little closet from the bathroom. Two charms had them enlarged and hinged to the wall. The last tap chimed. The bathroom was complete: simple and rather Spartan, but quite serviceable. Harry rounded up his water glass and toothbrush and put them away with great satisfaction.

Opening out the entrance was trickier. They had only the space between the lathe and the outer wall to work with, and it had to wrap around to the back of the house. Harry's outdoor access would be there, at the back corner nearest his room. The wall was opened at the foot of his bed, and two stories of space carefully expanded. A platform of replicating oak flooring extended out from the doorway: space enough for three people to stand comfortably. After reviewing all the attached spells, Snape floated down a shrunken spiral staircase of wrought iron to the exposed foundation, while Minerva cast a brilliant Lumos to help him see. The staircase expanded slowly, settling in more firmly to its magical grounding. Metal groaned as it stretched and spiraled up in a black helix, like Jack's giant beanstalk. The whole structure was rotated to allow one to step easily from the last riser to the platform outside Harry's door. The staircase was secured to foundation and platform, and then the stabilising charms were cast. Iron railings were added to make the platform safe and rather attractive. Finally, a toy-like door in its oaken frame swelled to fit the opening in the wall of Harry's room.

Snape strode out to the staircase to test his handiwork, while Harry looked on with excitement and Minerva with some trepidation. He bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, enjoying Minerva's wince.

"I'd say it's a success."

He grabbed up the bag with the rest of the materials, descended the stairs, and stood studying the large space at the bottom.

"I want to try those too!" Harry called, and clattered down to join Snape. "This is great!"

With more dignity, Minerva took the stairs carefully, and looked at the raw space, harsh in the wand light. "Perhaps that should all be closed in," she suggested.

"I could use it to store things," Harry volunteered. "Like a-like a bike. Maybe."

"A bike?" Minerva asked Severus.

"A bicycle. A two-wheeled conveyance without a motor. The closest muggles come to the sensation of riding a broom." He told Harry, "We can discuss it at least. It would get you out and give you some exercise."

"You can get places faster on a bike," Harry told Minerva. "I could go to the library and maybe all the way to Richmond Park!"

"We'll see." Snape said repressively. "Let's finish here first."

The two professors worked quickly: Minerva casting an illusion on the house to keep its appearance unchanged to muggles; and Snape cutting open the wall and setting the doorframe and door in place. The floor was uneven, and it required some adjustment. Eventually, however, it was done. The entry hall was sheathed in good-looking oak paneling, the ceiling in coffered wood, and the floor in polished planks. Minerva cast Muggle-Repelling and Notice-Me-Not charms on the outside door.

Snape had stretched his funds to buy two charmed lights, one for just within the outside door, and the other to be placed beside the upstairs door leading to Harry's room. He fixed them to the paneling with a Sticking Charm.

"When you want them on, say 'Lights, please,'" he told Harry.

"Lights, please!" Harry yelled.

Instantly, they were bathed in radiant yellow light. It would suffice, though Harry suggested that he could learn to make Finn's Window here all by himself, and let in the sunshine.

"That would be a worthwhile project for another time," Minerva agreed. "But soon I must be off. I am responsible for visiting your muggleborn classmates, and I need to note down the responses from the other students."

"I really appreciate everything you've done, Professor." Harry looked up at her with gratitude. "I've learned heaps from you. When I go back to Diagon Alley, I want to get a book about runes!"

"That reminds me, Mr Potter," she said. "Before I go, I'd like to see you ward the upstairs door. You can demonstrate your runic expertise to Professor Snape."

Harry made a dash for his penknife, and hurried back to the doorway, a piece of parchment in hand as well. He explained to Snape, "First the professor made me practice writing the runes, so I wouldn't make a mistake carving them. Look-this one that's sort of like an H or an N is Hagalaz. That means Hail, but it's the first letter of my name, so it stands for me. Then that sign like a diamond with two tails is Othila. That means property or home or land. And this one like a Y with a little line in the middle is Algiz. It means protection. So altogether it sort of means 'I protect Harry's place,' or just 'Protect Harry's place.' And then I have words I have to say just right, and I need to say them so close to the runes that I breathe on them."

"Well, get to it, Mr Potter," Minerva told him.

Harry lay flat on his stomach, scratching carefully at the doorsill. Snape watched him in silence, not wanting to spoil the boy's concentration. Minerva came over to examine the runes, and when Harry looked up questioningly after a few minutes, she nodded in approval.

The boy whispered to the little scratches, "I invoke you, Hagalaz, Othila, Algiz. Hear me, Runes of Worth. Let none enter here save by my will. Admit as friends of my threshold Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall, and Muffy the house elf. So mote it be, Hagalaz, Othila, Algiz!"

There was a crackling hum, which faded into the echoing blast of a distant horn. He got to his feet, beaming. "It was right, wasn't it?"

"Exactly right, Mr Potter," Minerva agreed. "I shall feel better knowing that you have learned a way to protect yourself. We've all done a good day's work here."

Harry nodded, and remarked, "Dudley would be so jealous."

Snape thought the boy should know something of what had been done to his relatives. "I must tell you, Mr Potter, that while it might be very amusing for you to lord it over your cousin, I would prefer that you did not. I have arranged things so that your family will not think of you. They will not notice the door to your room. It is for your safety, but I wish for your sake we could have punished them as they deserve."

Harry shrugged. "They've already been punished. I mean-they have to go on being themselves, and that alone is pretty bad."

Snape rolled his eyes. Minerva looked at the boy with a touch of pride.

"No, really-" Harry insisted. "-I'm going to a magic school, and I have all this and both of you to help me, and they're never going to be anything but what they are. I'm the lucky one, really."

Minerva nodded, and said, "You're a wise boy, Mr Potter. After all, you know what they say-" her eyes, full of compassion, slid to Snape.

"What?" Snape asked, impatiently.

She smiled. "That living well is the best revenge."

Snape looked away, filled with contradictory feelings. He still loathed the Dursleys, but after hearing about the events at Lily's wedding, he could at least understand them better. It would take some time to process the story, and he needed the quiet of his own quarters for that.

To give him a moment to collect himself, Minerva said to Harry, "I was thinking of returning next Saturday afternoon to see how you are getting on."

"I'd like that, professor."

"Good afternoon then, Mr Potter, Professor Snape."

She apparated away, and Harry shut the door on his handiwork. Blowing out a breath, he nearly fell into a chair, worn out with magic and the shock of the new.

"Aren't you tired, Professor?"

"A little," Snape agreed, taking one of the comfortable, old-fashioned chairs. "We've done a great deal today. I have duties as Hogwarts myself that I ought not to neglect, but I will certainly be back tomorrow morning, and we'll go out and find you some decent muggle clothes."

Harry stretched his legs out in front of him and studied his horrible trainers. Carefully, he did not look at Snape.

"Yes, I see them," Snape growled. "Shoes first."

A.N. I promise, when time allows, to post some runic information and other illustrations for this story at my website. I'll let you all know when I do. Thanks again for your feedback!