The boy seemed to sneer at him, but he soon turned, keeping the door open a slither, and called out, “Dad!!!! There's a man here to see you!”

Severus heard some kind of grunt from a distance away, followed by grumbling that got progressively louder, as a rather heavy footed person approached the door. The boy stepped away, and the door was quickly reefed open, revealing a rather heavily set man with a large moustache and no neck.

“And who are you?” the man asked rather gruffly.

Severus bit back his witty retort, and instead forced out a pleasant tone.

“Good afternoon, Mr Dursley, is it? My name is Ashley Phillips. I believe you've been expecting me? You were the one‘s chosen to house an Observer for a week, weren‘t you?”

Vernon's face instantaneously changed to one of welcome and pleasantness. He shot Severus a rather arrogant smile, before nodding enthusiastically and stepping aside, letting Snape pass.

“Yes, yes. Come on in Mr Phillips, make yourself at home.”

“Please, Mr Dursley. Call me Ash,” said Snape, smiling forcefully as he let his gaze sweep over the foyer. It was a rather nice house, in Snape's opinion, if not a little plain. There wasn't anything extraordinary about it at all. There were large photo's lining the hallway and walls of the lounge room, all filled with the fat boy, Mr Dursley, and a rather long necked woman that bore a startling resemblance to a horse. Turning back to Vernon, Snape smiled in a manner that told anyone looking at him that he was pleased with the look and feel of the place.

“So Mr Dursley,” Snape began. “If I may … where would my accommodations be located, please? I must unpack and get settled, if I'm to observe unobtrusively for the next few days what it's like in a normal British home, on a day to day basis.”

Vernon looked pleased that Snape seemed to like his house, and kept the sickening smile as he quickly agreed and led him up the stairs, informing him that he could call him Vernon, and that his wife and son's names where Petunia, and Dudley.

“This will be your room, Ash,” said Vernon, after leading Snape past two bedrooms, pointing to a rather small room at the end of the hall. He opened the door, revealing possibly the smallest bedroom he'd ever seen. There was barely enough room for the bed and wardrobe, let alone actually inhabiting the place for a great length of time. Snape could tell that the room had been spruced up for his stay, which made him wonder what condition it had been in before he'd come.

“Thank you, Vernon,” said Snape, forcing a smile onto his face as he stepped into the room, placing his small trunk at the foot of the bed, greatly reducing the remaining floor space. “This shall be quite comfortable.”

Vernon nodded shortly, looking smug at his approval.

“Petunia is in the kitchen getting lunch ready for us, so I'll just leave you to get settled. Feel free to browse around if you want? Get a feel for the place, as such, and I'll see you downstairs in a few minutes.”

Snape nodded politely and Vernon left, shutting the door behind him. As soon as he did so, Snape let his face fall into a customary sneer, as he mentally called Vernon a number of degrading names. How could anyone be so obnoxious? At least he knew where Potter got it from now, thought Snape, remembering the many bouts of cheek he'd been victim to over the years, that had come from the brat.

Thinking of Potter …… where was he? He hadn't seen any sign of Golden Boy since his arrival, and this seemed strange, even though he hadn't been at this house for any more than ten minutes.

“Typical Gryffindor,” Snape muttered, getting his odds and ends from the trunk and setting them out. Of course Potter wouldn't be around to greet a visitor. He is above all us lowly mortals after all, isn't he? Scowling at the cramped room, Snape soon finished unpacking and made his way back downstairs, glancing at the photo's on the walls as he ventured around the place. As Snape continued to look around, a little tingle started at the back of his mind, telling him that there was something amiss, but at that time, he couldn't figure out what it could be.

Snape stood in the doorway to the lounge room, spotting the large boy taking up the whole couch as he watched a small box in the corner with moving pictures in it. Was it Dumpy? Duffly? Snape shook his head. Stupid Muggle names. He let his eyes flit around the room, and discovered that yet again, all the walls held large photographs of the threesome …… and the tingle in the back of his mind increased to a rather loud alarm. Three. Where was Potter in all of these photos?

With this new revelation, Snape began to search with his eyes, with a bit more scrutiny, realizing that there wasn't a single thing that told of another boy living in the house. This confounded Snape to no end. Why was there no trace of The-Boy-Who-Lived? The frustrating part though, was the fact that he couldn't even ask these Muggles about it, because ‘Mr Phillips' had no knowledge that another person was supposed to be living here.

“Lunch is ready, Duddykins!” a shrill voice rang out, making Snape flinch while wondering how any of the glass in the house could remain intact with such screeching. The boy heaved his massive weight from the couch, and thumped into the kitchen, not even glancing at Snape once, or acknowledging his presence.

Scowling, Snape took the hint and followed the boy into what seemed to be a dining room. The table was stacked with food, and was set for four. Vernon was already seated, as was Petunia. As he took the seat motioned to him, Snape took a quick look around the room, noting that it was the same as the other rooms, in that there was no sign of Harry Potter anywhere.

“I guess this is what Albus meant by ‘strange circumstances' then…?” thought Snape, as he took his seat at the table, feeling his stomach turn at how Dudley seemed to take up one whole side of the small table on his own. Snape sat there, quietly eating the rather delicious salad, trying futilely to determine their ulterior motives, for they most definitely had them.

By that evening, Snape was growing more than just curious. Although he was loathed to admit it, he was worried. He'd kept all of his senses alert for the rest of the afternoon and even during dinner, but Potter just didn't seem to exist here. No one spoke of him, or even hinted that another boy took up residence there, which he though distinctly odd. Weren't these people supposed to worship the very ground Potter walked on?

It wouldn't be until his last evening at the Dursley's, that Snape would find what he was looking for, and receive the shock of his life.

*

It was late afternoon, and Snape was currently up in the smallest bedroom, packing the remanence of his articles in preparation to leave after Dinner that night. Uncharacteristically, Snape seemed visibly agitated …… and he was. The mild concern that had started at the beginning of his stay, was now bordering on panic (not that Snape would actually show such an emotion). One whole week had passed, and Snape had seen neither hide nor tail of Potter. His relatives didn't even seem to notice that another member of the family had gone missing!

He sighed and shook his head, pondering on what he was going to tell Dumbledore when he got back to Hogwarts. Lost in thought, Snape missed his bag and dropped a container of hair oil onto the floor, startling him when the sound created was that of hollow wood. Bending down, Snape ran his hand over the said area, spotting that one particular plank was showing signs of ware and tear. Curious, he started to fiddle with it, surprising himself when the loose board finally gave in, and popped from the floor.

“What have we got here?” Snape mused, reaching in a hand to see what hidden items were stashed away from prying eyes. His fingers touched something unnaturally soft and feathery, feeling like water made into material. Intrigued, Snape grasped the item and drew it from the floor, feeling strange as he set obsidian eyes upon a very familiar invisibility cloak.

Potter's.

Snape felt his heartbeat hitch as he stuck his hand down the hole again, this time coming in contact with what was unmistakably a wand. Retrieving it, Snape wrapped it in the cloak carefully, and took one final feel around the hole. His fingers found softish leather. With a bit more exploring, he thought it to be some kind of book. Reflexively thinking how strange it was for Potter to have a book, Snape withdrew the object, only to have his heart leap to his throat.

It was a photo album, with Lily and James, and of course the other Marauders, Lupin, the late Black and Peter Pettigrew.

Suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, a thought struck Snape so forcefully that he gasped and dropped the items.

This was Potter's room! If he was staying in here, then where could the boy be? As it was, this was irrefutable evidence that the other resided here, but …… why was he not in the house with everyone else?

Afterwards, while sitting at the dining table, Snape let his thoughts wander to the same topic again. Where could the boy possibly be? And another strange topic, was why the Golden Boy was living in a room barely adequate enough as a storeroom, let alone as a bedroom? It didn't make any sense …… at least, not with what Snape had always thought Potters home life would be like.

“Did you enjoy your stay, Ash?” Vernon's voice cut through his musings like a power drill, as they sat eating a mildly burnt pot roast and vegetables.

“It was a wonderful experience, Vernon,” Snape answered, barely containing a drawling sneer he would have used on a first year. “I look forward to doing it again sometime.”

Dessert was a Pavlova, which the large boy, Dudley, and Vernon polished off the majority of, and it was all washed down with a glass of sherry.

“Thank you for having me this week, Vernon, Petunia, Dudley…”

“Oh it was our pleasure,” Petunia gushed quickly, clearly not wanting to offend anyone of even remote importance. “Do visit us sometime, will you? And I do apologise for the roast tonight, Ashley. We've already punished the cook, so it won't happen again.”

The hair on the nape of Snape's neck rose at the possible insinuation.

“Cook?” he questioned, trying not to sound as interested as he was. “I wasn't aware someone else did the cooking? I thought Petunia was the talented chef?” His voice was oilier than his hair.

“Yes well, that's neither here nor there,” Vernon interrupted; his voice louder than what would be considered normal. “You must have quite the trip ahead of you Ash, huh? Best not keep you waiting…”

With that, Vernon ushered his wife and son inside, waved a brief goodbye, before shutting the door, leaving Snape standing on the footpath with his trunk. As soon as the door was shut, Snape dashed off to the nearest clump of bushes and removed all the illusion charms he'd placed on himself, before drawing out Harry's invisibility cloak and donning it, silently walking back to the Dursley's front door. Snape didn't know why he was doing it, but something told him not to leave yet. A silent alarm bell had gone off at the possible mention of Harry, and it wouldn't be silenced until it was satisfied…