Severus turned another corner and growled, low and menacing in his throat. How the hell was he supposed to navigate through this damned labyrinth of meticulously pruned front lawns and rigidly symmetrical human dwellings that some fool had thought to name a neighborhood? His last three locator spells drew him supposedly back to this street, but how was he to know if this street was indeed different from all the others was beyond him. What the rows and rows of identical houses were doing to him was getting on his nerves, something he did not appreciate.

Finally having enough, Severus stalked down the street, straight up to the fourth house on the right. Much to his internal pleasure (if he ever admitted it to himself) the door had a shiny number four right above the doorbell, which he pressed. Liberally.

Petunia Dursely had always been unpleasantly thin and horse-faced, yet when she answered the door, Severus caught himself thinking that perhaps her youth had been kind to her…if only a little. The starched white dress she wore did not make her appearance any softer, instead it made her look rather like a walking decorated board.

“What do you want!”

So she hadn’t learned any manners over the years either. He supposed it was sad, or it would have been, had he cared one whit about Petunia Dursley. But, as it was, when his business was all done here, Petunia could die immediately or live to be three hundred, Severus honestly couldn’t care.

“Where is Harry?”

The pinched face before him simultaneously seemed to manage to become even more severe an relax all at once. Severus found the thought sufficiently disturbing enough to put off asking the woman how she did it. “So you freaks have finally decided to come for the brat, have you? Well it’s about time someone came to relieve us of this wretch BOY!” she screamed.

There came a muffled response and a thump from inside the house, but for all Petunia’s thinness, Severus could not see around her. She gave him a sneer worthy to rival one of his worst and snapped “Don’t set foot in my house,” before snapping away to the side of the stairs.

While most of Severus’ brain was occupied with thinking about why she chose to go to the side of the stairs instead of up them, another, small part of his brain commented that she certainly needed help relieving herself, judging by the way she walked. And as this same part of his brain took to listing all the laxative potions that would work on Muggles, the rest of his brain was steadily  becoming more and more curious, especially when she took to hissing like some obscene snake.

All thoughts flew from his mind as Petunia turned from the stairs, half-lifting half-pulling a tiny bundle of cloth towards him. Severus hardly had a minute to gather his bearings before said bundle was quite literally thrown towards his person and the door shut and locked in his face after a vehemently hissed “Never come back!”

It took a moment for him to realize that the tiny, shaking little thing he had clasped awkwardly against his torso was Harry Potter, the boy he had come to fetch. This was his godson.

Abruptly, what seemed like a hurricane descended on the property of Number Four Privet Drive. Lawnchairs and potted plants went crashing against the house, sometimes breaking windows and whipping the curtains into the fierce winds. Severus wasn’t accustomed to such violent outbursts of accidental magic, and took a minute to realize it was his magic reeking havoc on the Dursley residence, not the tiny tyke in his arms. After an intense moment of concentration, he had himself under control, and turned placidly to walk back to the apparition point a few streets over.

He looked down as he passed number seven, and found two green eyes looking up at him. The child’s eyes were deceptively blank, save for a trace a wary curiosity. “’Lo,” the child said, in a vice hoarse from disuse, Severus hoped.

“Hello, little one.” Harry seemed to like that, because a little bit of tension leaked out of his body then. “Does anything hurt?”

Harry, however, decided to ask a question of his own. “You takin’ me ‘way?”

“Yes,” Severus nodded. “I am taking you home.”

The boy the sat straight up in Sev’s arms, from where he had been leaning against the man’s chest. “Home?” The question was not hopeful, and held far too much skepticism than any seven year old should even know about.

“Yes, Harry. Home.” Severus had stopped walking, and had readjusted the child into a more comfortable position. Harry’s eyebrows immediately drew down in an angry scowl.

“How come you din’ come ‘fore?”

Severus reached a hand to smooth down the messy hair, then straighten the giant t-shirt so that so much of the boy’s marked skin wouldn’t show. “I didn’t know, child.”

Harry seemed to consider this. After a minute, he found Severus’ explanation acceptable, and lay his head back onto the man’s chest. Severus took that as permission to resume walking, and soon they were at the apparition wards.

Tightening his hold on his godson, Severus said “Hold tight, little one,” And with a ‘Pop!’, they were gone.