Summary: The Dursleys refused to let Harry go to Hogwarts. Snape is sent to Privet Drive, where he quickly learns that perhaps the Boy-Who-Lived is not so spoiled after all.
Ship(s): Harry and Snape
For future reference: "/" = romantic and/or sexual relationships and "and" = platonic, familial, etc.
Additional notes: This was a plot bunny I had a while ago. For those who don't know, a plot bunny is an idea that doesn't go away. More often than not, it doesn't get extended.
"No."
Albus Dumbledore peered at the dark-haired man disapprovingly. "Now, Severus, we mustn't be so hostile to an innocent child."
"Innocent?" Professor Severus Snape spat. "He's probably been spoiled rotten, just like his father."
Dumbledore did not deny Snape's claim, but the Potions Master noted that he also didn't agree. "Severus, Harry is not only James' child, he's also Lily's."
Snape closed his eyes briefly to fight the pain her name brought. "If I must go fetch the brat, then fine," he muttered grudgingly.
"Wonderful." Dumbledore smiled, his eyes shining with that damn twinkle. "And don't worry about your Slytherins. They should be fine with you gone."
Snape sneered as he exited. Today was not his day.
The sneer was still present as he walked past the houses on Privet Drive. Oh, how bland they all were! Every house seemed to be composed of the same brown bricks, surrounded by the same white fence, the grass cut to the same short height.
Number 4 was no exception to this uniformity. Snape went up to the door and knocked. Potter, he thought sourly, you better have a good reason to have not replied to those letters.
A moment later, the door opened. A large whale of a man stood there. "Can I help you?" he said in an obviously forced polite tone.
"I am here for Mr. Potter," Snape said.
The man's face paled. "No one by that name lives here." With that, he slammed the door shut.
Snape was baffled. Whatever he was expecting the man to do, this was definitely not it. By the pallor on his face, he was clearly scared for some reason. He knocked again.
The door opened, but it wasn't the man this time. Instead, it was a very familiar skinny woman...
"You!" she shrieked.
"Hello, Tuney," Snape said.
"The freak isn't here," Petunia Evans — or whatever her last name was now — snapped.
A freak? Snape's eyes narrowed. That didn't sound like someone who doted on Harry Potter. "And where is he?" he asked coldly.
Before Petunia could answer, a boy appeared, his body almost as big as the other man. "Mummy!" he whined. "The freak broke into my room!"
Instantly, Petunia turned to him, her disgust and anger all but evaporated. "Don't worry, Dudleykins," she crooned. "Mummy will talk to him."
"May I come in?" Snape broke in silkily. "Your neighbors might be wondering why you're being so rude to your guests."
Petunia flinched. "Get in."
Snape stepped inside, his cloak billowing behind him. "Now where is Mr. Potter? Don't lie, Tuney, I know he's here."
"Vernon..." Petunia whispered worriedly.
"We don't know what you're talking about!" the fat man, Vernon, snapped.
"Vernon," Petunia repeated more urgently. "Just get the brat in here."
"Boy!" Vernon shouted. "Get down here!"
Soft footsteps alerted the presence of a fourth person. Then a boy, one who looked no more than eight or nine by his height, came over. Snape's eyes widened slightly. This was Harry Potter? This scrawny little child? Snape knew at once that he had been wrong about one thing: Potter had not been spoiled rotten. If anything, Petunia's son, her "Dudleykins," was the spoiled one.
Potter lifted his head and looked at Snape with achingly familiar eyes. "Hello," he said politely.
"Hello," Snape said, feeling uncharacteristically awkward and uncertain. He pulled himself together. "My name is Severus Snape. I am a professor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"Witchcraft?" Potter tilted his head to one side. "Like magic?"
"Mummy, the freak used that word!" Dudley shouted.
Potter flinched and dropped his gaze.
"Silence!" Snape pulled out his wand and cast a Silencing Charm on him.
"What did you do to my son?" Vernon roared.
"I merely shut him up so he can save his vocal chords. You're welcome," Snape drawled. He caught a glimpse of a grin on Potter's face and felt a flash of satisfaction.
"Mr. Potter," Snape addressed the small boy.
"Y-yes, sir?" Potter's head shot up nervously, half-grin gone.
"Has anything... unusual happened around you?"
"Yes..." Potter replied. "Was that m-magic?"
"Indeed," Snape said.
A look of awe crossed over Potter's features. "So you're saying that I'm a — a wizard."
Snape dipped his head. "And so were your parents."
"My parents were drunks," Potter said, frowning. "They got killed in a car crash."
Snape whipped around to face the other adults. "What have you been telling Potter?"
"He's a freak," Petunia snapped. "Just like his parents. It's not our fault they got themselves killed."
Rage filled Snape's chest, but he pushed it down behind his shields. "His parents did what any parent would do for their children: die for them."
"So it is my fault they died," Potter said quietly.
"No, it's not," Snape said fiercely. "I will explain as much as I can to you, but first we need to get your school supplies."
"But I don't have any money," Potter protested.
"Mr. Potter, believe me, you do have money. If you let me, I will escort you to Diagon Alley."
"He's not going anywhere!" Petunia said. "We've tried for years to squash out the freakishness from him."
"You may as well ask for the sun to disappear. Neither are happening anytime soon. So, Mr. Potter, what is your answer?"
The boy looked between his aunt and uncle and Snape. "Okay."
Snape nodded and headed for the door.
"Wait," Vernon said, "what about my son?"
Dudley glared at Snape angrily, unable to voice just how much he loathed him.
"It'll wear off," Snape said dryly. He heard a stifled snort and resisted the urge to smile. "Come, Mr. Potter. We have a lot to do."
"Coming."
This was written a little over two years ago. Time sure does fly.
