The Werewolf's Child

Muggle Football and Curry

By the time Severus got through his day at Hogwarts he felt his sleepless night was catching up with him. He had his usual roster of classes, a faculty meeting, then another meeting with a set of parents whose precious son was failing. (The student was from a long term Slytherin family with Death Eater connections. They were big donors to the school. He hated meetings like that.) After that there were three more students requiring punishment (Ginerva Weasley and a couple of younger Gryffindors who had written Dumbledore's Army Forever in ketchup above the entrance to the Great Hall). By the time he had dealt with them, he was jittery with exhaustion and anxiety over Remus. He fled to his rooms as soon as he could.

Once there, he took the floo to the old crumbling cathedral in the heart of his home town. He had got the fireplace there hooked up years ago. It was a convenient place to get to when he had errands to do in the village. There was a halfway decent curry shop on the same block.

It was already dark, and sleeting. He felt the penetrating, damp cold of late November. Sev's boots were quickly soaked, but he was too distracted to cast a drying charm. He wanted sleep, and food, and the comfort of Remus in his arms. He wanted to know that Remus was all right, there, in the bedroom of his house on Spinner's End, where he had left him that morning, white, naked and vulnerable under the quilt.

The curry shop smelled amazing but it was crowded. He stood in the agonizingly slow line, thinking he might die of impatience. When it was finally his turn he ordered a curry for himself and a clear noodle broth for Remus, then stood, waiting again, while their food was cooked. He was contemplating the cooler of fizzy drinks, wondering if Remus might fancy one, when he heard a hoarse female voice behind him.

"Sev."

His hand went automatically to the wand in his pocket. He turned and was staring into the pale blue eyes of Petunia Dursley.

She looked the worse for wear. Petunia had always been thin, but tonight she looked gaunt. The harsh fluorescent lights of the curry shop highlighted the worry lines around her eyes, the grey coming into her hair. She looked, reflected Sev, as if she were in the middle of a war.

He gestured with his eyes to a far corner of the shop, beneath a steamed up window, where they could speak without being overheard. Petunia followed him and bent her head towards his. He knew she and her husband (what was his name? Sev could not recall) had settled in Little Whinging. It was the next town over from this one, where they had all grown up; Lily and Petunia and himself. But the Dursley's were supposed to be in a safe house up north. He knew that the Order had arranged it before the start of term, when Harry had turned seventeen and the safety charms that Dumbledore had placed on their house years ago were no longer effective.

"I thought you were in hiding at Hestia's," he said in a low voice.

"We were, but......it didn't work out," she replied quietly, her eyes to the ground. "We were never comfortable there, and well, they needed the space. There's refugees and Muggle borns all over England who need safe houses. We've got two families staying with us at Privet Drive now. The house is warded and, well, we don't go out much."

"Who placed the wards?" asked Sev, an edge to his quiet tone.

"That Kingsley bloke and the girl with the hair that keeps changing color? Funny name?"

"Tonks?"

Petunia nodded.

"Should be all right then. Why are you out now? It isn't.....safe."

Petunia shrugged. "We've got to eat. And Dudders wanted a curry. Poor kid, it's no fun for him, locked up in the house all day."

Sev looked her in the eye. "Be careful, Petunia," he said. "The danger to you hasn't let up. If anything, it's worse." They called the number on the white piece of paper he held. He turned to go but she clutched him by the sleeve.