Mercifully, the rest of the meal passed without incident. For the first time, Snape had reason to appreciate the self-absorbed nature of children, as the Weasley brood prattled on artlessly about trivialities, thereby relieving him of the need to speak. Incredibly, Arthur and Molly seemed to enjoy the noise and insanity, and by the end of the meal, Harry was laughing and babbling along with the rest. Snape wearily noted that remedial lessons in table manners – particularly about not talking with your mouth full – would be needed after visits to the Burrow.

Then at last he could decently make his excuses. Harry, suddenly shy, came over as he stood by the floo, impatient to leave. Snape looked him over. “You will behave yourself.” It wasn’t a question.

Harry nodded obediently. “Yes, sir.”

“I will see you back at Hogwarts tomorrow evening. Do not forget to finish your homework.” Snape reached for some floo powder, to make his escape, but Harry grabbed him around the middle before he could complete the motion.

Damn! That solid little forehead always knocked the breath out of him. An instant later, Harry had released him and darted away, tossing a “See you tomorrow!” over his shoulder as he pelted off to rejoin the Weasley children.

Snape massaged his abdomen and glared after the brat. Molly and Arthur hid their smiles. “Er – thank you again for coming,” Arthur said. “I hope we can make this a regular occurrence.”

Snape raised an eyebrow. “All of tonight’s events?”

Arthur had the grace to blush. Molly, however, recovered from embarrassment much more quickly. To his outrage, she dragged Severus into an embrace. “Now, now – least said, soonest mended!” She completed her assault on his person with a loud kiss on his cheek which only the rigid self-control learned under Voldemort’s Crucio prevented him from wiping away.

“Indeed,” he said as chillingly as he could manage. “Good night.”

He fled – er, hastened – through the Floo and relaxed with a sigh of relief as he entered his own quarters. To his relief he realized that, although it had felt like an eternity, he had only been at the Weasleys for a few hours. It was still early enough to carry out his plan.

He stuck his head back into the Floo network and called Albus. A moment later, the Headmaster stepped through the hearth and into Snape’s quarters. “Well, well, my boy, and how was your evening?”

Snape glared up at him from where he lay sprawled in one of his chairs. “How do you think, old man? I have been surrounded by Weasleys, subjected to the architectural inadequacies of the Burrow, and forced to eat Molly’s cooking.”

“I’m sure you and Harry had a lovely evening,” Dumbledore said comfortably, blithely ignoring both the content and tone of Snape’s reply.

Snape rolled his eyes. “Your precious Gryffindor prince is safely ensconced among the redheaded menaces. Both Bill and Charlie are there tonight so you need hardly worry about any Death Eater attack overcoming the family – let alone the wards – and I am going to drown myself in Dreamless Sleep in the hopes of forgetting this day ever happened. It will serve you right if, during my absence from my nightly patrolling, the students take over this asylum.”

Albus chuckled and patted the younger man on the shoulder. “There, there. I will have a word with Argus to ensure that the students get up to no more mischief than usual, and I shall even take a few strolls about the castle myself, if that will make you feel better.”

Ha! Success! Snape masked his triumph with a grumble and heaved himself out of the chair. “I’m sure you can see yourself out,” he snapped, heading for his bedroom.

The roar of the floo drowned out Albus’ good night wishes, and Snape grinned wolfishly. He’d wait another ten minutes, just in case Dumbledore remembered something and came back. Any longer than that, and he’d assume Severus was unconscious from the potion and he’d know better than to return.

Then, with Dumbledore distracted and his own alibi neatly secured, Snape would be free to carry out his real plans for the night.

Perhaps the only good thing about being Tobias Snape’s son was that by the time he was eight, Severus was, through his father, well acquainted with the seamier side of life. Whether he was sending his son to place a bet or buy him more liquor, Tobias had no qualms about exposing Severus to society’s rougher elements. Even after he started at Hogwarts, Severus had maintained a few ties to the Muggle underworld. Initially this was so that, during visits home, he could still carry out Tobias' errands, but his connections had also proven useful during his years as a Death Eater, not because Voldemort would ever consider an alliance with Muggles, but because it gave Severus an understanding of Muggle law enforcement that the Dark Lord could exploit.

Tonight Snape was planning to visit an old childhood acquaintance who was now a well-established member of the Muggle criminal elite. He transfigured his clothing into garments that would raise no eyebrows and apparated to the appointed location, a pub close to where he had grown up. Within minutes, he was seated in a dark corner, opposite the man he had come to meet.

“Oi - looks like Life's been kind to you, Severus,” John Marvin noted, lifting his glass in a silent toast. “Your father’d be pleased.”

Snape sneered. “My father would have been most displeased, and you know it. He loathed me, and the feeling was entirely mutual.”

Marvin shrugged. “Yeah, true. So – you’re obviously not here to talk ‘bout old times. What d’you want?”

Snape leaned back. “I have a task for you and your organization. Interested?” In the almost two weeks since he had first learned of the Dursleys’ treatment of Harry, Snape had done a lot of thinking about how best to repay them for their mistreatment of a Wizarding child. Unfortunately, he was somewhat limited in his options by the fact that Albus had assigned him the task and would therefore expect a report.

Since the elderly wizard was surprisingly squeamish about physical violence – though not about deliberately manipulating others, whether for their own alleged benefit or “the greater good" – Snape knew that he would have to avoid Unforgivables or, indeed, anything too Dark. If his treatment of the Dursleys exceeded whatever Dumbledore thought was deserved, the elderly wizard might well send him to Azkaban, deciding that he was too dangerous an influence on Harry. The unspoken subtext in everything dealing with the boy was the fear that Harry would grow up to join, not oppose, Voldemort, and if Dumbledore felt that Snape was somehow encouraging such behavior… Well, Severus already knew the headmaster was willing to sacrifice him if necessary. He’d do it reluctantly and with great sadness, but he would do it. Snape was determined not to give him any reason for such a course of action.

The old man’s inappropriate (in Snape’s opinion) mercy towards undeserving wizards was why so many Death Eaters – including Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix LeStrange, and of course Snape himself – were still around. Dumbledore insisted that the Order of the Phoenix use nonlethal means whenever possible, and Snape was confident that he would therefore reject anything that seemed too cruel to the “poor Muggles”. Dumbledore obviously held out hope that Harry’s relatives could be made to see the error of their ways. Snape would rather they saw their own entrails.

He sighed. Since that wasn’t going to happen, he could at least come up with the next best thing. He had thought long and hard about this and had rather quickly ruled out using any kind of charm or curse on the Muggles. Dumbledore was sure to object to the ones he wanted to use, as they would inevitably lead to slow, excruciating deaths, and Snape had no desire to let the Dursleys off with the equivalent of a stern lecture.

In the end, he decided on a two pronged approach. On the one hand – the one he would tell Albus about – it seemed appropriate to use Muggle methods to punish Muggles. He was confident that John Marvin would, with proper motivation, be able to destroy both the Dursleys’ quality of life and their peace of mind.

“There is a family in Surrey,” he began, steepling his fingers, “who have offended me. I wish to ensure that they are made to suffer.”

Marvin nodded slowly. “You always were a vindictive little sod. What did you have in mind?”

Snape shrugged. “I’m certain you can be more inventive than I. Surely there are ways to ensure that they are harassed by all the various bureaucratic agencie?”

Marvin grinned. “It’s amazin’ what you can do with computers these days. Phony arrest warrants, canceled drivers’ licenses, and of course once you get on the wrong side of the tax boys, your life’s as good as over.”

Snape waved a negligible hand. “Yes, yes. By all means, make use of your ‘confusers’. The goal is to make each and every day of their lives a misery.”

Marvin was busy scribbling on the back of a paper napkin. “Right, right. This isn’t nearly as unusual a request as you might think. Always happy to oblige a friend…”

“And I would also like you to make use of more… orthodox… methods of intimidation.”

“Put the frighteners on ‘em? Easy enough. You have any ideas?”

“The odd assault as they collect their vehicle at a parking structure. Perhaps have someone break into the house while they’re out and move things around just to unnerve them… It might also be amusing to have them awaken to realize intruders are standing around their bed,” Snape mused. “No permanent damage though – I don’t want the game to end too quickly.”

“Right, right. More a war of nerves than brute force? Again, we get a lot of these requests, though usually it’s just for one or t’other,” Marvin kept writing. “Blimey, what did these people do to you anyway?”

“Does it matter?”

“Nah – just curious.”

“They abused a child in their care, though I don’t wish your employees to speak of it. Much better for them to have no idea why they are being targeted.”

The Muggle whistled. “Well, good to see you haven’t changed much, Sev. Once an evil bastard, always an evil bastard. How many in the family? I might have to charge you extra if there’re too many.”

“Three. Two parents, one child, age eleven.”

“You want the kid left alone?”

Snape stroked his chin. “No-o. I wouldn’t say that. While you need not show him the same level of attention as the adults, like them, he should be made to feel helpless and preyed upon.”

“Hmmm. Any idea where the little bugger goes to school?”

Snape shook his head.

“No matter. It’ll be easy enough to suss out.”

“Why?”

“Every school has its share of bullying toe rags. Easy to slip them a few quid and tell them who to target. They’ll make the kid’s schooldays a real hell.”

“Excellent,” Snape purred. “So glad to see we understand each other. I’ll expect reports twice a month. Separate reports for the bureaucratic harassment and those with the more ‘personal’ touch if you would be so kind. ”

Marvin nodded. “You know the terms – so long as your money turns up in my bank account, you’ll get the results you’re after.”

“Thank you. Here are their particulars,” Snape passed Marvin a slip of paper with the Dursleys’ names and address. “Good evening.”

As he apparated away, he allowed himself a smirk of satisfaction. Albus would be pleased with the bloodless bureaucratic persecution, and if he found Snape’s vengeance too restrained to be believable, then the Headmaster could be allowed to discover the additional intimidation as well. He might lecture Severus about excessiveness, but since it was Muggle on Muggle violence, the Aurors would not be called and Azkaban would not be a potentia outcome.

And speaking of Azkaban…

When Snape had decided not to be satisfied with the minor torments that were all that Albus would allow him to use on the Dursleys, he had spent a great deal of time determining how else to make them pay. The obvious solution was to enlist the help of someone else, someone Albus knew nothing about, and who would have no obvious reason to know about Harry’s relatives, let alone target them. In this way, they could operate with impunity, unnoticed by Dumbledore or the Ministry. That left only one difficulty: whom did he know who was both well able to torture Muggles and likely to welcome the chance? Obviously his own duties at Hogwarts would make it impossible to spend the necessary amount of time overseeing activities at Privet Drive, and to be fair, he had never been particularly sought after during Death Eater revels.

Despite what his students might believe, Snape was not in fact a sadist, and he had never gotten any degree of pleasure from participating in attacks with Voldemort. There were, however, many Death Eaters who found such activities downright entertaining, and it was their skills that he had decided to utilize with the Dursleys. Lucius Malfoy would have been perfect for the role, of course, but since barely escaping Azkaban after the Dark Lord’s defeat, he had devoted himself to reestablishing his family’s political and social influence. Especially now that his heir was getting closer to his majority, Lucius was being careful to keep his nose (and other body parts) squeaky clean.

Bellatrix Black LeStrange brought new meaning to the term "sadist", not to mention "insane". Even the Dark Lord had, on occasion, been taken aback by her enthusiasm. By comparison to Bella, Voldemort was a picture of mental health – after all, he only wanted to rule the world, a not completely unreasonable goal. Bella was just plain barmy.

Still, Bellatrix could always be relied upon to develop ever new and more inventive tortures, and she despised Muggles with a single minded passion, both traits that would assist her in persecuting the Dursleys. As attractive as that made her, though. Snape had regretfully decided that her lunacy made her too unpredictable to work with on this project.

He sighed. He had really hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but who else was left? He needed a Muggle-hating Death Eater with a proven track record of killing, torture, betrayal, and other Dark activities. Like it or not, there was only one obvious candidate left. Leaving the dark pub far behind, he apparated to a foggy, deserted stretch of stretch of sand.

‘S that you?” a hoarse voice demanded.

Snape rolled his eyes. “Of course. Have you made the necessary arrangements?”

The other wizard emerged from the fog. “Yeah – got the potions?”

Snape held up one green, glowing vial. “Here’s one. I’ll Summon the other upon my safe return.”

The other man snorted in amusement and contempt. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do,” Snape replied silkily. “For you know as well as I do that only my continued good health will prevent certain proofs of your past activities from reaching the Aurors. And naturally you wouldn’t want anything to happen to me, or where would you get your – ahem – ‘enhancement’ potions? Can’t have you disappointing your wife, can we? Isn't that the problem with Veelas, they're never fully satisfied?”

“I satisfy her just fine!” the other man flared, but he reached out to snatch the potion all the same.

Snape smirked. “Of course you do. Shall we go over?”

It really wasn’t that hard to break into Azkaban, Snape mused. Naturally enough, all the efforts were spent on preventing wizards from leaving. So long as you had a well-placed and highly motivated confederate on the inside, getting in unobserved was rather a doddle. And say what you might about the downsides of being a Death Eater, you couldn’t deny that it guaranteed you a well-rounded acquaintance with all the dodgy elements of Wizarding society, not to mention providing a great deal of extortion-appropriate information about them. As a result, identifying an easily-bribable guard had been so easy that Snape nearly felt disappointed. Of course the fact that Voldemort had been gone for nearly a decade and Death Eater activity was now all but nonexistent did tend to lull the Aurors and guards into a state of complacency.

Snape sighed. There were times when he rather missed the excitement of the old days. Matching wits against students – even the Weasley twins – just wasn’t the same as serving as a double agent, caught between the two most powerful wizards of the age.