Harry was fairly certain that the Dursleys had already forgotten about him. After Professor Snape had left, the Dursleys had talked for a while about what they would do with the extra income (though Harry figured neither he nor the Dursleys would ever see Snape again) and hadn't even so much as yelled through the door at him. Not that he minded...he was quite content to be left alone as long as possible. In the past he'd had no trouble at all sitting alone in his cupboard, though now each passing minute seemed an eternity. The first thing he'd noticed upon being thrown inside was the fact that it was completely empty, save for a broom and dustpan…with accompanying dust bunnies. Last summer it had been filled with his Hogwarts supplies, since he himself had been moved to Dudley's extra room. Half-heartedly he wished he'd been thrown in the upstairs room instead, so he could at least have a chance at escape. Though after last years daring escapade…he doubted he'd ever see the room again. Maybe they'd even make him fix the window himself, for he doubted that the Dursleys would have been willing to do all the work themselves. He could just imagine them fuming all summer long, ranting, ‘that boy better get back here and fix the bloody window!' or something of the sort.

Sighing heavily, Harry began scraping at yet another splinter on the wooden floor. It had been almost a full day since he'd returned ‘home.' The light beneath the cupboard door had slowly grown in intensity and begun to die down again, now fading from dull, sunset pink to the dark blue of evening. His stomach rumbled. If only he'd thought to stow some food away in his robes before leaving…then he'd at least have had something to do and eat.

BAM!!!

Harry cringed at the all-too familiar sound, throwing his hands atop his head to keep the plumes of dust from his eyes.

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

The three successive sounds ended in the scurrying of feet and a maniacal giggle. It sounded like Dudley was glad to have his favorite ‘toy' back. Harry would have ignored the stair-stomping as usual, but a moment after it ended he heard the kitchen door squeak shut, and the muffled voice of Vernon Dursley erupted in an angry bellow, accented shortly by the scraping a chair being scooted back from the table. Harry's eyes widened in the darkness, he knew it wasn't Dudley the man was angry at.

The large man's footsteps sounded loudly on the wooden flooring as he flung open the kitchen door, causing small moats of dust to float lazily down from above. Then the latch scraped against the frame of the cupboard, and Harry was nearly blinded by the light that shown through the widely opened door.

Vernon Dursley was bright crimson. His eyes was narrowed to such an angle that Voldemort himself might have paused to gawk. He'd never seen his uncle so angry before, and Dudley looked more excited than ever from his place behind his father. Harry tried to shrink back as the hairy paw of a hand reached toward him, but his Uncle was quickened by anger and latched onto his shirtfront easily, dragging him out into the light.

“I'd nearly forgotten about you, brat,” Vernon spat, his eyes swirling with restrained violence. Harry struggled with the hand that held him captive, but to no success. Dudley giggled again.

“I owe you for that little stunt of yours last summer…didn't think I'd see you again after that one,” he said, and Harry stifled a yelp as he was shoved roughly up against the wall, his feet dangling inches above the carpet. “You shouldn't have come back, you stupid…stupid little boy….” Vernon said, and Harry knew then that tonight the gloves came off, no more of simply being starved or shoved in a cupboard…no more getting off with a slap or a casual shove into a wall…tonight it was really going to hurt. Uncle Vernon leaned closer, leering dangerously as his knuckles continued to grind into Harry's collarbone.

“I'm going to make sure you learn your lesson real well this time….” Vernon said. Behind him, Dudley was playfully smacking his fist into his palm, leering like his father.

‘Ron…Hermoine…Professor Dumbledore…somebody please come for me!' Harry thought desperately, and then Vernon's fist connected squarely with his jaw.

“A troll wouldn't have been impressed, Albus,” he said, his eyes shifting sideways to the empty doorway. Dumbledore chuckled lightly, and he gave Fawkes a quick scratch on the head before settling into a chair facing the hearth.

“Surely they can't be all that bad….” the Headmaster said, though his eyes twinkled in a way that said he knew otherwise. Snape's gaze finally locked with the Headmaster's own, his expression stern yet mildly surprised.

“Have you ever even met them? I've never seen muggles of such a base variety!” Snape snarled, his arms now crossed tightly over his chest. For a moment his brow lined with thought, then his face took on a vaguely alarmed quality. “You didn't check them out before you dumped Potter off on them, did you, Albus?” he said, and his gaze turned distinctly venomous.

“No, I didn't. They were his only surviving family, and thus the obvious choice. The muggle authorities would have done the same thing,” Albus said, absently knitting his fingers through his beard. His face took on a teasing smile as he continued, leveling a sideways glance at his Potions Master, “Why are you so interested, anyway, Severus? I didn't think it would matter to you either way,” Severus was positively glaring at him now.

“Potter is a brat, and I'll admit I go out of my way to insult, punish, and ridicule the boy when I can. However….” Severus turned his gaze away, now staring down into the quiet ashes of the fireplace, “No one deserves to be treated in such a manner, James's son or no,” his gaze flicked up once again, “And you Albus…I'd never imagined that you'd leave him with people such as that!” his voice rang with fury.

Dumbledore took a moment to study his former student, the amusement fading from his gaze. Snape himself had had a rather…unfortunate childhood, Dumbledore remembered. He'd never known the details, when Severus had been a student and a Slytherin Dumbledore realized he hadn't always paid the proper attention to many of his students, Snape included. And even when he had shown the proper attention, it was mostly one-sided, favoring the Gryffindors. It was one of Albus's greatest regrets, one he'd worked long and hard to try and mend. Now he struggled to give each and every student the proper attention, though his old mistakes continued to haunt him now and then.

“I hadn't much choice at the time, Severus. Those were rough times, if you recall. What is it exactly that you'd like me to do about it?” he asked at last. Severus blinked, his expression blank. In an instant it changed, his eyebrows instantly dipping downward in a glare.

“What do you think?! I want you to get him out of there!” he barked, moving his hands to rest angrily on his hips. Albus' mouth quirked up in a small smile, which thankfully Snape failed to notice. This was almost going to be too easy, he thought, laughing internally. For the sake of the Potions Master, he took a moment to scratch his chin in contemplation, rolling his eyes to the ceiling and making a thoughtful ‘hmmm…' sound deep in his throat.

“I really couldn't, Severus…I've got far too many things to do. I'm to interview some prospective teachers for next season, and then I have SO much mail to catch up on….” he continued, mouth still slightly twisted in a smile. Snape stared at him as if he'd grown a second head.

“So you're just going to leave him there?!” he yelled, stepping forward and staring down at the Headmaster in shock. Albus Dumbledore had never shown such a lack of empathy before, Snape thought. Perhaps the students were right, maybe the old man was finally going a bit senile. He just couldn't believe that this man, his mentor, was willing to leave his own favorite student in such a damnable place. And he was smiling about it, no less.

“Of course not,” Albus replied, composing an offended expression on his face, ‘Why don't you go and fetch him, Severus? Harry could stay here until we find someplace better, I suppose.…” he said, looking thoughtful once again.

“Me?!” Snape said, and he looked absolutely horrified.

“Well why not? You seem so concerned about it, and you've got nothing to do all summer anyway….” Albus began, watching Snape expectantly. Snape's mouth opened and closed several times, one eyebrow twitching slightly as he fought desperately for a good excuse. Albus decided to make it easier on him.

“Look Severus, I know you were already planning on bringing him back here, so no need to act so miffed about it. If it will make it any easier for you, you can just tell Harry that I made you fetch him back; that way your mutual hatred will remain perfectly intact,” Dumbledore said, and rose slowly from the chair, turning his back to a mortified Severus, and he walked slowly toward his desk. When he turned back around, Snape was staring at the floor with a rather severe expression, his black eyes swirling with thought. When he looked up at last his face was stern and unreadable.

“Very well. I will do it tonight, then,” he said, and turned toward the door, his robes flaring with the sudden movement.

“Severus….” Dumbledore called, and the figure froze.

“Yes?” he questioned, one pale hand rested on the doorframe.

“Don't hurt them too badly,” Albus said with a smile, and wasn't surprised when Snape replied with an evil smirk of his own.

“I'll try, but no promises,” and with that, he disappeared from the doorway, not making a sound as he slipped down the darkened hallway.

Sinking heavily into the chair behind his desk, Dumbledore cast a smile at Fawkes, whose head was cocked curiously. He stroked its feathers with one wrinkled hand and pushed his glasses up on his nose with the other.

“You know, Fawkes, I do believe this has been one of my more brilliant ideas. Wouldn't you agree?” he asked the bird. Fawkes looked up at him lovingly and cooed softly, nuzzling his hand with her long neck.

“I thought so.”

“That dog sh' know better by now, always ends up runnin' back scared anyhow,” Hagrid muttered to himself. A fierce wind suddenly blew through the forest, tearing at Hagrid's heavy coat and causing the tiny flame in his lantern to flicker and shrink. Grumbling softly, he raised the lantern in front of him and turned a small knob to raise the wick, and adjusted the flame back to its proper size. “'Tis not a good place to be in the dark, no it ain't,” he muttered again.

Trudging further down the path towards home, Hagrid had nothing on his mind aside from getting his small bag of collected herbs back to Professor Snape (though he couldn't figure why he'd wanted them when he didn't have any classes to worry about), and then settling down for a nice cup of tea. His thoughts shattered in an instant when Fang's low howl suddenly filled the night air.

“Fang! What ‘ave ya found, boy?!” he yelled ahead, trudging quickly toward the small grove from which the sound originated. He burst through a tall hedge and dashed quickly over to where the dog stood rigid, staring at something just ahead of him. Hagrid approached slowly, adjusting the flame of his lantern to an even brighter degree.

“What ‘ave ya got, boy?” he asked, stepping up beside the dog.

It was a fox, small and bright orange in shade; and it was dead. One long, clean cut split the poor creature from neck to stomach, revealing wet, pink flesh. The cut had been made with surgical precision…and there was no blood anywhere at all.

“What the devil?!” Hagrid yelped, jerking up with surprise. No animal or monster he'd ever met in the forbidden forest killed in that fashion. Undoubtedly it was something else…something much more dangerous than any beast with claws.

“'Taint no creature done this, Fang… sumthin' human did this….” Hagrid said, then bent down and lifted the creature by the tail, it was already stiff and cold.

“Come on, boy, we gotta tell Dumbledore ‘bout this,” he said, and then began the trek back to the castle with Fang at his heels.

After his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Snape made out the shape of the cupboard, its latch drawn down and adorned with a padlock. Potter's still in there, he noted quickly, then turned toward the stairs. After gracing the first step, he thought he'd blown it. The step yielded a loud squeak the instant his boot touched its surface. Standing stock still, he strained his ears…nothing stirred upstairs. Good. He hugged the wall the rest of the way up the stairs, carefully testing each and every step. The final step greeted him with a sense of relief and a long hallway, dimly lighted by a nightlight. As he crept down the hallway he loosened the strings on the leather pouch at his belt and reached inside. He removed one of the three small vials within, smiling at it lovingly. He'd only made it two hours earlier, as he'd required several special plants that Hagrid had grudgingly collected for him. Closing the vial tightly in his palm, he turned to the first door on his right, Dudley's, he assumed, due to the many posters and stickers that adorned its surface.

Snape pushed the door open silently, slipping inside with no more sound that a serpent drawing near its prey. Prey, which was situated haphazardly on a huge bed near the door. The boy had his limbs thrown everywhere, covers having long since been discarded to the floor. Snape paused for a moment to take in his surroundings, he'd never seen so many toys in his life. They filled the room from floor to ceiling, toys of every shape and kind. Computers, cars, video games, action figures, and squirt guns littered the room from end to end, floor to ceiling. This child was utterly spoiled. Snape shook his head in disbelief and approached the bed, uncorking the vial as he went. Bending over the sleeping form, he let the meager contents of the vial drip gently onto the flesh of the boy's exposed stomach, and then pocketed the vial once again. One down, two to go.

The Dursleys' room was lavish by many standards, sporting expensive china, furniture, and all sorts of expensive and delicate decorations. The only thing that Snape took time to notice was a dresser topped with multiple picture frames. Each and every one was of Dudley, Harry's face was nowhere to be seen among them. Snape growled softly and turned toward the Victorian style bed, casting the sleeping couple a glare of no equal. He crept to the bedside quietly, nothing but a shadow amongst shadows. He emptied the two remaining vials on them, only eliciting a slight twitch from Vernon Dursley. Snape nodded in grim satisfaction and slunk back down the hallway and then the stairs, carefully avoiding step number one. He couldn't have them waking just yet…not until everything was set up as he had planned.

The cupboard was his third and final stop inside the Dursley residence. The only sound from within was that of ragged breathing, something that caused Snape to move all that much quicker to undo the lock. After the quick charm was cast, he slowly opened the door, trying to ease it from its hinges without squeaking terribly much. For the moment after, Snape merely stared inside the cupboard, his eyes not quite registering the sight before him. In an instant any qualms he'd possessed about helping the object of his hate disappeared.

The Boy Who Lived was curled up in the far corner of the cupboard, clutching an obviously broken arm to his chest as he slept, or lay unconscious, Snape couldn't tell for sure. The boy's face was covered with bruises and cuts, his glasses lay broken on the floor near his feet. His school robe lay in the opposite corner, torn to shreds most likely by Vernon's fit of rage and retribution. Snape's face was still and unreadable as he stood staring down into the cupboard, the only indication of his thoughts being the uncertainty and turmoil roiling within his black eyes. Then, as if by the flick of a switch, his brows tilted downward in a stern gaze and he knelt toward the boy, pausing briefly to collect the broken glasses and stow them away in the leather pouch.

“Potter!” he hissed quietly, the boy only twitched slightly.

“Potter, wake up! “ he hissed again, eliciting only another faint twitch, “Potter!!” he said, this time in the very same tone he used to address his students. This time, the boy stirred. At first his face curled in a tight grimace as he clutched his arm tighter, but then he stretched out a leg and began to maneuver himself to a sitting position. His eyes opened a moment later, shining a dull, pained green. For a moment, his face was perfectly blank; but as the last vestige of sleep drifted away, his eyes shot open wide with shock.

“Professor Snape?!” he whispered in shock, staring at the dark figure with a degree of disbelief he didn't think existed.

“Can you stand?” Snape asked quietly, casting a nervous glance toward the stairwell. Harry nodded slowly.

“I think so…can't see too well without my glasses though,” Harry said, rubbing a hand across his blackened eyes as if assuring himself they were no longer there.

“I'll help you then. Now hurry, I've got to get you back to Hogwarts,” Snape said, backing out of the doorway to give Harry room to stand. Using the wall for support, Harry made it shakily to his feet a moment later, and then limped behind Snape to the front door.

Opening the door wide, Snape turned to Harry with a mischievous smirk on his face. Harry didn't know how to react to it, so he simply stared back.

“Would you like to see something amusing, Potter? A little surprise I left for your captors?” he said, his tone sending a chill up and down Harry's spine.

“What…kind of surprise, Sir?” Harry asked tentatively, though in actuality he very much wanted to see what Snape had done. The man was wicked devious…that was a lesson every Hogwarts student learned the very first day of potions class, and any ‘surprise' he'd left for the Dursleys had to be worth it.

“Nothing permanent…just a little something to…alter their perspective a bit, so to speak. Care to see?” Snape asked, simply itching to show off his accomplishment.

“Okay….” Harry managed, and stifled a gasp as a shot of pain ripped through his side. He leaned against the wall and waited. Snape watched him with a blank expression on his face, his eyes showing a hint of something that Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of; but then the smirk returned and the potions master pointed his wand at the fireplace across the room and uttered a single word…and the fireplace nearly exploded. Actually, all that happened was the logs within were set aflame with the sound effect of a thunderous BOOM. And that very sound effect was the entire reason for the charm, for not a second later and the ceiling shook with the pounding of many feet rushing from bed and toward to hallway. Precisely four seconds later and the Dursleys were stumbling down the stairs, only registering the cause of the racket when they'd reached the ground and stood facing Severus Snape and Harry Potter. Vernon Dursley practically glowed with anger. Snape smiled serenely.

“You! What In the blazes are you doing out?!” Vernon yelled at Harry, and then turned his glare on Severus, “And what are YOU doing here in the middle of the night? Couldn't you have waited ‘til morning' to give us our money?!” Harry looked up at his professor, what was supposed to happen? Or was Snape just playing some elaborate game of torture? He'd assumed that Dumbledore had sent Snape back to fetch him…but what if he hadn't? What if Snape had simply decided that he hadn't tortured him enough during the school year, and wanted to get in a few more kicks?

“I am here, Mr. Dursley, to remove young Harry from your inadequate care. Your services are no longer wanted. The Council has carefully reviewed your performance, and has come to the undisputed conclusion that, and I quote, ‘they are the vilest, most base creatures in existence,” Snape said coldly, enunciating the last sentence perfectly. It had the effect Snape had been counting on…Vernon Dursley was furious.

“You…you freak, DARE to call me vile?!” he roared, shoulders shaking with anger. A loud rattling soon sounded from all around, and Snape's smile grew wider. Objects throughout the room were beginning to shake and rattle, teetering wildly. Vernon only noticed when his wife tapped him on the shoulder, breaking his concentration. Everything stopped.

“What the…?” Vernon muttered.

“You've bewitched our house!” Petunia Dursley screamed, shaking her fists angrily. Again objects began to shake, stopping the instant she calmed.

“We've done nothing of the sort, Mrs. Dursley. We haven't done a thing,” Snape replied smoothly, smirking in satisfaction. Harry was now beginning to understand what Snape had done, and was just beginning to smile brightly.

“Bullocks! What was all that shaking, then?!” Vernon yelled, thrusting one meaty finger toward a chair in the far corner, that had before been spinning wildly. Now that he pointed at it, it floated lazily off the floor, rocking slightly from side to side.

“Vernon!” Petunia screamed, and Dudley was making small surprised sounds in his throat; both sets of eyes were riveted on the chair. Vernon gasped and drew his hand to his chest, cradling it as if injured.

“Dad, you made that chair move!” Dudley yelped, now pointing at said object himself. Once again, the chair began its lazy flight. Dudley screamed, then turned and ran up the stairs, bawling his eyes out.

“Oh dear me….” Snape said with false surprise, “You seem to have developed some magical powers!” he said, suppressing a harsh laugh. Harry was grinning from ear to ear.

“No…no way! We aren't freaks like you…you…damned freaks! You've done something!” Vernon stammered, his eyes darting around like those of a wild animal, searching for some route of escape. Petunia was shaking, both hands clasped to her mouth in pure shock, she was still staring at the chair.

“You can't give someone magic power, Mr. Dursley, you have to be born with it. And you, obviously, were. Looks like you are now a ‘freak' as well. Congratulations,” Snape said, and then turned toward the door, “Come, Potter. We're expected,” he said, and Harry limped after him out the door, casting one last glance at the Dursleys. The expression on Mr. Dursley's face was priceless…full of absolute terror.

“Wait! Make it go away!” Vernon yelled, but Snape and Harry kept their backs turned.

Snape pulled Hagrid's broom out of the air and climbed on, this time motioning Harry on in front.

“Sir?” Harry questioned, his eyes knitted in confusion.

“Your arm's broken, you're sitting up front so I can keep you on the broom,” Snape stated matter-of-factly. The boy nodded and complied, and Snape grasped the broom handle in front of him, his arms effectively locking Harry in place. Then they were airborne, the desperate wailings of the Dursleys now a faint whisper from far below. A thought struck Harry, and he turned to look up at his teacher.

“Professor Snape…if you don't mind my asking, what did you do to them?” he asked as politely as he could. Snape hadn't been cruel to him even once during the entire escapade, and Harry realized it was only a matter of time until the old, evil Snape took over once again. He hoped they landed first, at least. To his surprise, Snape smiled proudly, eyes focused strictly on the sky ahead.

“A special potion I invented myself…for telekinesis; the effects are only temporary. It certainly isn't magic, but it's easy to convince a muggle otherwise,” The Potion Master replied, obviously pleased with himself. Harry was shocked into silence, he'd never seen Snape in a good mood before, and though his expression and attitude were just as harsh as ever, he was certainly happy now.

Harry shifted slightly on the broom, adjusting the position of his broken arm. Below, he could see the last lights of the city disappearing into the darkness.

“Professor?” he asked, staring down at his other hand.

“Yes, Potter?”

“Thank you.”