Mon Cher (Severus Snape Daughter FF)

Ch. 2 // POA

You won't get this meme right now. Keep reading and you will :)

"Clara, if they catch you, you and I are both in for it." Harry pleaded with his older sister. She had been begging to "meet" the Dursley's, which Harry corrected her and told her it was stalking ("Technically it's breaking and entering, but 'meeting' someone without their knowledge of you being there is stalking").

"I'll be quiet," Clara told him. "Please? I'll hang out on the stairs until they're distracted and you can tell me where to go where they won't see me."

"No, Clara. It's too much of a risk and remember, I need my permission form signed too."

Harry then went down to breakfast to find the three Dursleys already sitting around the kitchen table.
They were watching a brand-new television, a welcome-home-for-the-summer present for Dudley, who had been complaining loudly about the long walk between the fridge and the television in the living room.

Clara stepped carefully down the stairs, trying not to make too much noise. She put her back up against the wall and peered around the corner into the kitchen. She quickly whipped her head back when she saw a bony and horse-faced woman, who she assumed was Petunia.

'That's my aunt?' Clara thought. She peered around the corner again. 'Mum was definitely the favorite child for more reasons other than her being a witch.'

"... The public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous.
A special hot line has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately."

Clara turned her head towards the dining room. She crept closer to the doorway and listened to the report. She had only seen the news at Hermione's house. She thought it was amazing! It was the Daily Prophet on screen!

"No need to tell us he's no good," Clara heard Vernon snort. "Look at the state of him, the filthy layabout!
Look at his hair!"

Clara turned to look at the television. The man had a gaunt face that was surrounded by a matted, elbow-length tangle. Unruly, much like Clara's.

The reporter had appeared.

"The Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries will announce today — "

"Hang on!" barked Vernon. "You didn't tell us where that maniac's escaped from! What use is that? Lunatic could be coming up the street right now!"

Petunia whipped around and peered intently out of the kitchen window.

"When will they learn," said Vernon, pounding the table with his large purple fist, "that hanging's the only way to deal with these people?"

"Very true," said Petunia, who was still squinting into next door's runner beans.

Vernon drained his teacup, glanced at his watch, and added, "I'd better be off in a minute, Petunia. Marge's train gets in at ten."

"Aunt Marge?" Clara heard Harry blurt out.
"Sh — she's not coming here, is she?"

"Marge'll be here for a week," Vernon snarled, "and while we're on the subject we need to get a few things straight before I go and collect her. Firstly, you'll keep a civil tongue in your head when you're talking to Marge."

"All right," said Harry bitterly, "if she does when she's talking to me."

"Secondly," said Vernon, acting as though he had not heard Harry's reply, "as Marge doesn't know anything about your abnormality, I don't want any — any funny stuff while she's here. You behave yourself, got me?"