1994

Sitting, staring up at Severus with wide, bewildered eyes, Vernon Dursley could do nothing but hold his nose and gawk stupidly at the wizard before him. “Snape!” he said again, the only word his mouth seemed able to produce.

Behind Vernon, a dripping Petunia and Dudley waited by the front door as they watched the older wizard with fear. Dudley, who did not yet know the Potions Master, tried to scowl at the man as though he were nothing at all. But the sight of the vampiric man before him was too much for the teenager, and he soon gave way to his cowardice instinct and hid behind his mother as best as he could.

With a face that clearly portrayed anger, Severus grabbed Vernon by the collar of his night robe and helped heave the heavy man up. Dazed, Vernon allowed the help and seemed able to register that sitting on the ground was not a place that he would want to be. Especially with a wizard looming forebodingly over him.

There was no grace in Severus’s movements as he shoved Dursley into a chair before turning on Petunia and Dudley, his black eyes blazing. “In here. Now,” he commanded.

Petunia jumped to obey, dragging, as best as she could, her son along with her. Dudley clutched his mother’s arm, whimpering pathetically. Harry watched in silent shock as all three Dursleys’ sat obediently staring up at the man in black before them as though he were an angry schoolmaster. Which, actually, was not far from the truth.

“You three have severely disappointed me,” Snape began to pace before Harry’s family. “I do not like to be disappointed,” he leveled each of them with a withered glare.

“W-who a-are you?” Dudley somehow managed to speak, though it was clear that he regretted it afterwards, if his hands clamped over his mouth was any indication.

Rushing over to the fat boy, Snape leaned in, getting perilously close to the child’s face, the way he did with any of his students that he wished to frighten. “I did not say you could speak!” his voice was barely above a whisper.

Straightening back up with such an air of superiority, Severus looked down at them all condescendingly once more. The ferocity in the professor’s eyes made Harry believe that the man was capable of murder, but his face remained in his carefully calculated mask, the one he always wore when at school. But it was becoming clearer to Harry that Snape was much more complicated than he had previously thought. Just how complex was the man that was supposed to be his father?

“S-Snape, you lunatic!” Vernon’s mind finally caught back up with him. “You, you broke my nose!” his voice was much whinier than usual, his tongue sounding thick and awkward.

“You’re lucky that’s all I did!” the Potions Master snapped harshly. “You are so very luck that that’s all I did,” his voice dropped into a cold threat as his eyes narrowed. “I cannot believe that this is how you would treat your nephew,” Severus turned to Petunia, who paled. “After everything, this is how you would treat Lily’s son?”

Tears began to stream down Petunia’s face as her eyes dropped away from her ex-brother-in-law’s face. It was perfectly clear, at least to Harry who knew the signs, that the woman was ashamed of herself; truly and utterly ashamed. But if Snape saw this, he ignored it. There was no compassion on his face, no mercy. Slowly, Harry began to realize that the man was out for blood; from all of them.

“I…I don’t-” Petunia began.

“Save your breath,” the wizard barked. “I do not want excuses from any of you. What I want to know is how…why did you do this to Harry?”

At the other side of the table, Harry began to shift uncomfortably. Although he had always dreamed of this day, dreamed of the day that his relatives would get their just rewards, now that it was happening, he could not help but be afraid for them. After all, Snape was perhaps the worse form of punishment that the boy could think of; much worse, he was sure, than even a Death Eater. But then again, this man did have the Mark.

Nevertheless, Snape was a hard-hearted man, Harry knew. Perhaps the only person that the young wizard knew that could, and would, hold onto a grudge years after that other party involved had died. There had never been a time at Hogwarts that Harry could think of when the professor had tolerated anything but perfection and respect from all of the students. Offending Snape was like writing your name on the executor’s list. So what chance did the Dursleys’ have against the Potions Master?

Looking over at the only family he’d ever known, Harry found himself not wanting to see them get punished after all. There was nothing that appealed to him about watching someone else suffer. But the fact that S- his father was actually taking the trouble to question the Dursleys was an unexpected delight. Hope shined through as Harry thought maybe, just maybe, there was a heart underneath all that blackness and snark.

“So?” Snape’s growl brought Harry out of his pensive state. “Tell me, why did you do this? Why have you been abusing the boy?”

“I don’t know what you’re bloody talking about,” Vernon said, surprisingly have the nerve to talk at all. “We’ve only ever taken care of that brat-”

Before anyone could have reacted, Severus slapped Vernon across the face, leaving a large, ugly handprint on the other man’s cheek. For a moment, the professor was gone, and in his stead stood a soldier.

Vernon turned back to Severus once again with large, horrified eyes. “I’m sorry,” Snape’s voice was steady. “Did that hurt?” When the other did not answer, the wizard sneered viscously. “Don’t like it, do you? Getting hurt I mean. It’s not a pleasant sensation, is it? Not so fun when you’re on the receiving end. But, perhaps it would be better if I went and got a belt? Do you think that would improve anything? I think it would be tremendously fun.”

The sarcasm that dripped from the Potions Master’s words was stifling. There was no remorse on Snape’s face, no pity. Even as the blood continued to pour from Vernon’s nose, the wizard did not seem to care much about it. The mask that Snape adorned today was a bit different than the one he usually wore at school. This one was outraged, so very… betrayed?

“No, no, a belt would be too good for you,” Snape began to pace. “Perhaps a cane? Or maybe I should just use this on you,” he pulled out his ebony wand.

The three Durselys jumped at the sight of the wand, all three staring at it with terrified eyes. Dudley instantly began to cry as he held his butt, hoping that he would not re-grow a tail. Vernon held his hands up, as though he could ward off any magic that was aimed in his direction. And Petunia… she merely sat there, tears still flooding from her sorrowful eyes, as she waited to see what Severus would do.

“For nearly thirteen years,” Snape’s pacing was furious. “Thirteen years you’ve mistreated the child. Why?”

“We’d never hurt a child-” Vernon tried to get out.

“Liar!” Severus was on the man in an instant, like a great black beast sensing easy prey. “Then why the hell did I find this in the cupboard?” he took out the sign that had marked Harry’s bedroom.

Harry paled when he saw his sign. He still remembered making it when he was very young. Uncle Vernon had been out with Dudley, and Aunt Petunia actually let him play with some of Dudley’s crayons. She had even given him a fresh sheet of paper. It had been one of the greatest days in Harry’s young life, and he had always remembered his aunt’s kindness that day. But what had always confused the boy was why his aunt did that? Why had she been so kind one day, a long time ago, and then terrible to him ever since?

Vernon blanched when he saw the sign and Snape, ever the predator, picked up on the other man’s fear. “Recognize it, do you? Yes, it was in the cupboard, along with all of the boy’s school things. You cannot honestly tell me that you care about Harry. What, with the sparsely furnished bedroom upstairs and all of the pictures… none of them had the boy in it at all.” Was that bitterness in the professor’s voice, Harry wondered.

“But now you’re done,” Severus collected himself, his mask firmly in place. “You’re tormenting the child is over. From now on, you’ll not be able to eat, sleep, or take a breath unless I tell you to,” his cold eyes scanned over the family. “From now on, you’ll all be doing everything you’ve made your nephew do in the past. I will treat you like the scum you are, and you will all accept it. You will only speak when spoken to, and then you will only respond ‘yes, sir’ or ‘no, sir’ unless I ask for more elaborate answers.

“You will follow my instructions or you will be punished,” he glared especially hard towards Dudley, sensing the child would be trouble. “You will be waiting on Harry and I, cooking, cleaning, and doing lawn work. If I feel you do not complete your tasks in the time I have given you, you will be punished. And just so you know,” the barest hint of a smile began to shadow his lips, “your telephone no longer works. You cannot call anyone.”

With each passing word, all three of the Dursleys got more and more green looking, making Harry hope they did not get sick. With Snape’s words buzzing in his head, Harry, although pleased, wondered if the professor was bluffing about the punishment aspect of things… But no, the Potions Master never bluffed at anything. He always did exactly what he said he would, which was made clear, but always took you by surprise somehow when he followed through with his threat.

Was Snape really that mad at the Dursleys? After all, the man had not made Harry’s life any easier over the years, and had been just as bad with insults and verbal torments. Although the young wizard had to admit, his professor never stooped to physical abuse, but was not beneath physical punishment either. Was this some sort of new Snape that Harry was seeing, or was this what really lie behind the mask?

“Now,” Severus clasped his hands behind his back. “All of you go get dressed in some work clothes. You will begin your repayment in the next five minutes. Woe to you if you’re late getting back down here,” he scoffed.

“I have work!” Vernon shrieked indignantly. “You can’t expect me to-”

“I said no talking,” Snape snapped, magically shutting the other man’s mouth closed. “And you need not worry about your job,” he sneered. “I already called in and told them you quit.”

While under the spell, Vernon could not bellow his usual rage, but that did not stop him from standing up in outrage, sending his chair flying backwards. But when the fat man realized what he’d done, he seemed to think better of it when Snape was standing in front of him, only a breath away, glaring down at him so contemptuously, that Harry thought his uncle’s skin might melt off the bone.

“That was not very smart,” the wizard growled, taking out his wand, he pointed it at the Muggle’s head.

When Vernon began to tremble, all of his fat jiggling in the process, Snape took a step back in disgust. “Don’t try me, Muggle,” the wizard hissed. “You’ll find that I’m not as restraint as I used to be. Now, go! Get changed. You all have work to do today, and I want you back down here in five minutes. Harry and I are hungry and we want breakfast.”

Dudley up and jumped, flying out of the room so fast, Harry could not remember a time when he had seen his cousin move so quickly. Vernon was almost as bad, still shaking with fright, while Petunia stood up slowly, and all but ran from the room. A curious reaction, Harry thought, but he decided to turn his attention back to… his father.

Snape sat back down near Harry, and took a deep breath before reaching over for the tea. As calm as if he’d just woken up, Snape poured himself a full cup of tea, before giving Harry a glance. “You should really drink that,” he nodded towards the boy’s own cup. “Tea’s never as good cold.”

Grabbing the cup, finding himself thirsty, Harry took a big gulp before setting the cup back upon the saucer. He shyly looked over at the professor, wondering what was going though the man’s mind. “S-sir?” Harry asked quietly, hoping he would not reignite the man’s formidable temper. When Snape’s dark eyes locked on to his own, Harry forced himself to continue. “Sir, how… why did you do that?”

The Potions Master’s face was thoughtful as he looked over the teenager. He regarded Harry for a moment, before he set down his cup. “Because, believe it or not, no one deserves to be treated the way those…three,” he spat, “treated you. Nobody. Especially not you.”

Again, Harry’s heart warmed as he listened to the words carefully. It was the first time anyone had ever said something of the sort to him. Sure, the Weasleys assured him that what his relatives were doing was not right, and Hermione declared that it was all unfair, but no one had ever told Harry that he did not in some way deserve what he got. Of course he knew that he did not, but deep down, the boy always had to wonder. Hearing those words from Snape, of all people, just made Harry glow.

“Th-thank you, sir,” tears welled up in Harry’s eyes, and he found himself cursing. Why did he always have to get so sentimental? Sn-his father was not the sentimental type. “ ‘M sorry,” he mumbled as he wiped his eyes. “I just never had someone stand up for me like that.”

There was a deep frown on Severus’s face as he watched the child. Obsidian eyes regarded the boy carefully before he ever spoke. “Why didn’t you tell Dumbledore?”

Even while the Headmaster’s name was spoke angrily, Harry could still detect concern in the Potions Master’s voice, at which, the boy’s eyes began to water again. “Well,” he trailed off, not wanting to make… his father furious again. “I told him I did not want to come back here, and that the Dursleys hated me, but I never really got into detail.”

Surprisingly, Snape snorted at this. Harry looked up to see a stormy expression on the pale face. When emotions showed through the wizard’s mask, it never boded well for anyone. “And he did not even bother to send someone to check up on you?” he asked incredulously. “He should have known better,” he growled, sending dread flooding through the boy’s limbs.

The two wizards then sat silently together. While Snape seemed unappeasably furious, Harry had a hard time keeping the smile off his face. Someone cared about him. Someone really cared! There was none of this talk about how his relatives could not be as bad as Harry described them, there was none of this shrugging and looking away. Snape, his father, had not even been told, had not even heard Harry complain, and he had figured it all out. He had done something about it for Harry. The thought made the boy feel wonderful.

As told, the Dursleys all came back down the stairs in five minutes, Vernon still holding his nose, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. Severus looked up at him and sneered in disgust. “I suppose I can’t have you bleeding everywhere, can I?” he sounded disappointed.

Taking out his wand once more, the Potions Master pointed it at Vernon. Dudley let out a scream, desperately trying to hide behind his mother, while Petunia actually looked annoyed with her son for once. Sending a quizzical glance at mother and son, Severus tried to ignore them in favor of working on Vernon.

With a quick flick of the ebony wand, there was a slight crunching noise before Vernon doubled over, clutching his nose once more. The big man cried out, tears spring back into his dark eyes. The professor seemed unmoved by the display, and went back to his tea.

“Now,” he said once he was seated. “Petunia,” the woman shrank a bit. “Go make breakfast. Something light, but filling, I think. It seems you starve your nephew,” her eyes fell as more tears leaked out. She merely nodded.

“You,” he growled over at Vernon. “I want you to start scrubbing the couch and carpet in the parlor. When I first came here, I’m afraid I left a bit of a mess. Go get started.”

Vernon looked as though he wanted to argue, but the look on Severus’s face, combined with the silencing charm, even the thickheaded Dursley knew it was useless. So, he found himself waddling over to the cupboard to get out cleaning supplies. He knew from the past that a fight with Snape was rarely ever won. It was as though the wizard could read minds.

Turning his icy black eyes over to Dudley, who now stood before him alone, Snape sneered. “Tell me child,” his voice dropped back into a silky smooth deception. “What do you like to do?”

The whale of a child began gasping like a fish out of water, his blue eyes wide with fear. He began to shake as he found himself falling into the empty tunnels of Snape’s eyes. There was nothing in those eyes at the moment. Nothing. Had it not been for the rise and fall of the man’s chest, one could easily mistake the professor for dead.

“I-I-I l-li-ike t-to p-p-play m-my vid-eo g-games,” he managed to speak.

“Video games?” Snape looked thoughtful for a moment before his face dropped back into a nasty delighted expression. “Well child, you won’t get to be playing any of those soon. Now, go stand with your nose in the corner until I tell you to stop. Go!”

The house shook when Dudley jumped to obey. A look of disgust passed over the Potions Master’s face, but he said nothing as he turned back to Harry. The boy watched his new father with something akin to awe.

When Severus noticed the child staring at him, he turned to face Harry. “Tea?” he asked.