Petunia clearly thought she held the upper hand. She smiled nastily at Severus, who stood there in stunned silence, unable to believe the words that had come out of her mouth.

How on EARTH does she know???

He swallowed and forced himself to think straight. Of all the crimes he had committed, it was just his luck that that one was the only one he hadn’t been tried and acquitted for. The only person who had ever known about it had been Lily—he had never even told Albus.

Petunia must have overheard them, he realised. She’d heard him confess to Lily, and now she thought she could blackmail him with it.

The thought of defending his actions to the Wizengamot was not a pleasant one. He doubted they would be so willing to let him go free over this, not even with Albus’ testimony. As for Albus … Severus’ knees shook slightly as he imagined the disappointment on his friend’s face.

No, he told himself firmly. I will not let this stand.

“Prove it,” he said to Petunia, his voice completely calm. “My father’s body was never found.”

“I heard you confess yourself,” she said with a grim smile.

“And I’m sure the Wizengamot will take your word for it.”

“Why don’t we find out. I’m sure you won’t want to risk it. After all, I learned what Dementors are like from you. You really don’t like them, do you?”

“No,” Severus said. “I don’t. But you seem to be labouring under the misapprehension that I am more concerned with my own freedom than your nephew’s well-being.” Her smile vanished. “Do your worst. Now let me see the boy.”

For a long moment she stood frozen, staring at him as she digested that her blackmail had failed.

“Petunia, move out of the way or I swear—”

He didn’t need to finish his threat; she scurried out of the doorway, and he strode into the hallway. “He’s locked in his bedroom, I presume?”

“Er … n-no,” Petunia said with a whimper. “S-Snape … p-please …”

“Where is he?”

She let out a sob and buried her head in her shaking hands. Realising he wasn’t going to get anything useful out of her, Severus cast the Point Me spell.

It directed him to the cupboard under the stairs. His unease growing, Severus Alohomora-ed the door open and gasped.

Potter was lying curled up inside, dressed in the same clothes he had seen him in on Thursday, which now badly needed cleaning. His eyes were glassy, his face flushed and sweaty, his skin covered in bloody and swollen blue rashes. He hiccupped, and several bubbles floated out of his mouth.

“You left him in here SICK?” Severus snarled at Petunia, but she had disappeared. Smart move.

“Harry?” Severus pressed a hand to Potter’s forehead to see how hot he was. Very hot. He needed medical attention urgently.

Severus cast a cleaning spell—not ideal, but it was better than nothing—then fumbled in his pockets, pulled out his potions kit and dosed Potter with a Fever-Reducing Potion, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to get the boy out of this place.

But there was a small problem … he couldn’t carry him. He couldn’t very well levitate him down the street in broad daylight.

Severus bit his lip. He was still shaky from his last meeting with Voldemort—but even if he hadn’t been, trying to carry Potter would result in him being bedbound for days again, which was precisely what Potter didn’t need. He considered calling St Mungo’s, but he knew Albus would rather Severus treated Potter himself unless there was no other choice. As he tried to think of an alternative, he heard hurried footsteps down the stairs, and looked around.

Petunia was hastily dragging her son from the house, carrying a suitcase.

“Stop!”

She flinched, but Severus wasn’t interested in her right now. He eyed up Potter’s huge muscular cousin.

“You there—Dudley, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir,” Dudley mumbled, just as Petunia said, “Don’t talk to him, Dudley!”

“Come here, I need you to carry your cousin. Petunia, you needn’t bother to run away; no matter where you go you can be sure we’ll find you.”

She dropped the suitcase. Dudley shuffled forwards. “Carry Harry where?”

“To Mrs Figg’s house.”

Dudley didn’t need any more persuading. He lifted Potter in his arms as easily as if he were a baby. Severus cast a quick glamour spell to stop any Muggles noticing the rashes or the bubbles, and they left the house, leaving a silent Petunia behind.

“What’s wrong with Harry?” Dudley asked as they walked.

“Looks like an allergic reaction to me.”

Dudley gaped. “That’s what an allergic reaction looks like?”

“Not for Muggles, but such things work a little differently on wizards—especially if it’s something magical he’s allergic to.”

They arrived at Mrs Figg’s. She was quite startled to see Harry being carried by Dudley and emitting bubbles, but allowed them through to her fireplace. Dudley’s eyes widened as Severus threw the Floo into the fire.

“It’s quite simple. Step into the fire with me. It won’t hurt you.”

Dudley whimpered a little, but glanced down at Harry and drew a deep breath. “Okay.”

He followed Severus into the fire, and they were whisked off back to Severus’ house. Dudley staggered from the fireplace the other end, almost dropping his cousin.

“Sorry, I should have warned you about that.”

“Where do you want me to put him?”

“Up here.”

Dudley followed Severus upstairs into one of the spare rooms, and laid him on the new mattress. Potter had been conscious, but clearly not lucid, through the whole time, occasionally muttering random or unintelligible words.

“There,” Dudley said, tucking Harry in.

“Thank you, Master Dursley. You can return home now. Just throw the powder in the fire and say Mrs Figg’s address—”

“If it’s okay with you, sir, I-I’d rather stay till I know Harry’s going to be okay,” Dudley said tentatively.

Severus hid a smile as he imagined Petunia’s reaction to that. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, sir,” Dudley said, sounding a bit more confident.

“Well … all right. If you bear with me a short while, I will see to Potter and then let Mrs Figg know to let your parents know where you are.”

“Thanks sir.” Dudley drew back and let Severus get to work.

He took a blood sample to check his own diagnosis, and find out what exactly Potter had reacted to, then removed the last traces of it from his stomach with a spell. The boy stopped hiccupping bubbles. Severus found the right potion, modified it appropriately, and then set up a drip to send it slowly into Potter’s bloodstream. Finally he gave Potter a sleeping potion, and the boy went from delirious mumbling to sleeping soundly.

“Is that it? He’ll be okay now?”

“He’ll be fine in a day or two provided he responds fully to the treatment.” Severus found himself tucking Potter in, and quickly stopped himself. “If you want to leave—”

“I’m not going anywhere till Harry’s better. Oh, er, I mean, if that’s okay with you, sir,” Dudley added quickly.

“It’s fine with me.” And might be useful. “I’d better send that message to your parents. Anything in particular you want me to tell them?”

Dudley straightened up. “Yes. Tell them to start packing up all my things, because I don’t want to live with them anymore.”

Slightly stunned, Severus relayed the message to Mrs Figg, including that Dudley would be spending the next day or two with him while his cousin recovered. He would have loved to have seen Petunia’s face when Mrs Figg told her her son wanted to move out.

Now he just had to wait for Potter to respond, he found his mind wandering back to Petunia’s attempt to blackmail him. In the shock of discovering she knew his secret, it hadn’t even occurred to him that he could have just Obliviated her.

But maybe that was a good thing. Memory Charms were not perfect, nor his forte. He’d used them before only to have something trigger a recollection on the Obliviated person. There would always be something left in the subconscious, and if she ever remembered, she could get him into trouble not just for killing his father, but for using a Memory Charm to cover up the crime as well. As it was, if Petunia notified the Ministry, with a good lawyer he could probably avoid a life sentence. The Obliviation would double whatever he got. Because of their nature, Memory Charms weren’t supposed to be used by any but the most skilled in them, and certainly not to pervert the course of justice. It also wouldn’t help his relationship with Albus.

Severus should probably prepare himself, though, for Petunia actually following through with her threat. Hopefully she would be too distracted by the neglect charges he fully intended on throwing at her and the fact that her son was taking Potter’s side to do so, but just in case … maybe it was time he came clean with his employer.

He told Dudley to watch Potter, and made another Firecall. “Headmaster’s Office, Hogwarts.”

Albus was working at his desk, and looked up when he heard Severus arrive. “Morning, my boy. What can I do for you?”

“We need to talk about Potter and the Dursleys,” Severus said grimly, and Albus’ smile faded. “You’d better come over.”

Mere seconds after he had stepped back from the fireplace, Albus appeared. “What’s going on, Severus?”

They sat down. Deciding to start at the top, Severus began. “When Potter found out he was bankrupt, he assumed it was his own fault and didn’t ask anyone for help out of pride.”

“Sounds familiar,” Albus said, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Eventually he passed out while working for me, and I found out that firstly, he had been doing extra jobs all around his neighbourhood and exhausting himself in the process; secondly, that he wasn’t eating properly because his aunt and uncle weren’t leaving him dinner; and thirdly, that they’d actually started taking money off of him and stopped his meals altogether.”

Albus’ smile vanished quickly. “What?”

“I had a word with Petunia and convinced her to give the money back and make sure Potter ate properly,” Severus said, “raised his salary and told him to drop the other jobs. But when he was looking for his Gringotts vault key, I made some more observations, and confronted Petunia with them.”

“Which were?”

“As far as I can tell they’ve never bought him any clothes—I don’t know if you’ve seen those rags of his cousin’s—and his bedroom would be small for a ten-year-old. I bought him some decent clothes myself and insisted they move him into their spare room. Potter told me they were trying to stall, making excuses why they couldn’t do it right away. Then this morning, he didn’t turn up for work. I went over there, and found him locked in a cupboard.”

“WHAT?” Albus jumped to his feet.

“They’d left him in there sick, Albus. Allergic reaction. Another few hours and he might not have made it.”

Albus began pacing, great distress on his face. “Will Harry be all right?”

“He should be fine. He’s in the spare room upstairs.”

“Good.”

Severus bit his lip. “Um … there’s more.”

“What?”

“You should know, when I spoke to Petunia the first couple of times, I made … threats. Nothing lethal,” he added quickly. “Just the standard transfiguration of people into inanimate objects, messing up her perfectly ordered house, that sort of thing.”

“I take it you didn’t go through with these threats.”

“Didn’t have a chance. When I turned up to find out why Potter wasn’t at work … she … stood up to me. Said they weren’t going to stand for being blackmailed anymore.”

Albus raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“She tried to blackmail me.”

The Headmaster stared at Severus in surprise. “Blackmail you? With what?”

Severus took a deep breath. “There’s something I—I never told you …”