“I don’t understand it,” Aunt Petunia wailed.

“What is it, dear?” Uncle Vernon asked, gently guiding her onto the sofa.

“All the neighbours—the way they look at me! As if I’m some sort of—of—” Apparently she couldn’t think of an appropriate word. Harry could think of a few, but chose to keep them to himself.

“That can’t be,” Vernon said in what was probably supposed to be a sympathetic tone. “Why would anyone dislike you, Petunia?”

Harry remained silent as he finished his grapefruit, keeping his head down. Petunia had been attempting to bond with the neighbours, but while they had all been perfectly civil as far as Harry could tell, she was becoming frustrated by their refusal to make her feel part of the community. Apparently spying on people wasn’t half as interesting when you hadn’t got to know them first.

Harry, on the other hand, was getting to know everyone on the street. They had been in Arrow Close a week, and so far his excursions around the neighbourhood had gone unnoticed. Jane had him over daily, and he was receiving invitations from several others to visit—two other elderly residents, Alison and Dave in Number Five; and the Sinclairs in Number Six, a couple with young children who had taken a liking to him. Others also made a point of saying hello when they passed. The Dursleys didn’t pay much attention to where he was as long as he wasn’t under their feet, and he was hoping it would remain that way and they would never know he was the reason they were being shunned by the community at large. He was pleased they were finally getting to know what it felt like, but not keen on what they’d do if they discovered he was to blame.

The only house he hadn’t approached was Number Ten opposite them. He hadn’t caught any more glimpses of the occupant, and was content for it to remain that way. He had had his fill of unfriendly people.

Jane and the others plied him with cakes and biscuits every time he went over. Everyone had taken to trying to feed him up, and that combined with all the snacks sent over from his friends meant Harry now had too much food in his possession, rather than too little, and he was not one to let food to go waste. He was eating more than his fill of cakes, pasties, pies and biscuits; his jeans were actually feeling tighter, and he reflected ironically that it might be the first time he could ever remember gaining weight at the Dursleys’. He hoped they didn’t notice, because it would be tough to explain.

“It’s not just you, Mum,” Dudley said, his attention for once not solely on how little he had to eat. “All the kids run away when they see me coming!”

“Oh, how ridiculous! Why would they run away from my sweet Diddydums?”

Harry thought for a moment his grapefruit was going to make a reappearance. He fought the feeling and kept very quiet.

“It’s not fair!” Dudley continued. “I haven’t been able to make a single friend!”

His tone sounded like he was working himself up to a real wobbly. Harry ditched his grapefruit skin and scarpered to his room, where he closed the door and ate his real breakfast—a slice of Mrs Weasley’s fruit cake and several of Mike Sinclair’s sponge fingers. He opened his window wide to let in a breeze and pulled out his homework. Dudley had gone out in a huff while he was eating, so it made sense to make a start while the house was fairly quiet.

After a couple of hours, he realised he could smell something sweet coming from the kitchen, and ventured downstairs in curiosity.

The oven was filled with lumpy things he couldn’t quite work out.

“What are those?”

Petunia pursed her lips. “Scones; and no, you don’t get any. They’re for the neighbours.”

Harry thought if she was trying to buy her way into the community, it wasn’t going to work. For one thing, Mike made fantastic scones, which he knew first hand. He was also certain that none of them were going to want to accept anything from any of the Dursleys.

He didn’t bother telling her this, just returned upstairs to finish his homework.

After a while, Petunia called him back down. Harry entered the kitchen to find the scones had been cooked, cooled and packed into a Tupperware box. Dudley had returned, and it was taking all her efforts to keep him away from them.

“Can’t I have just one?” he moaned.

Petunia tried to placate Dudley, but it didn’t work and he made a lunge for the scones. Harry grabbed the box and darted out of his reach.

“Diddykins, no!” Petunia cried. “You—boy—go and take them to the neighbours, tell them they’re from me. Don’t you miss a single house! And if one crumb passes your lips, there will be hell to pay later. Get them out of here. Now, Dudley, please …”

Harry left the house and his cousin beginning a tantrum, and started making his way down the street.

“Hi,” he said to each resident, and they all greeted him warmly. “My aunt’s sent me to offer you some scones.” He received tuts and mutterings about bribery. “Please take one, though,” Harry said, “or she’ll think I didn’t try hard enough.”

“Well, in that case …”

He worked his way down the street and then up the other side, finally stopping outside Number Ten, hesitating. He could feel Petunia’s eyes on him out of the window, so braved the garden path and rang the doorbell.

The door was flung open, and an angry face loomed towards him. Harry gasped and involuntarily stumbled backwards, dropping the box.

The glare turned into shock.

“Potter???”

“Professor Snape!” Harry thought for a moment he was having a heart attack. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here? I live here! What on earth are you doing here?? You’d better have a good explanation—”

“I-I just moved in,” Harry stammered, hastening to pick up the scones.

“What?”

“Me and my relatives … we … live over the road now,” Harry managed to stammer out. Snape’s eyes flashed.

“Do you mean I have to put up with you living right opposite me all summer long? Sweet Merlin!”

“I’m sorry sir!” Harry didn’t think he had done anything wrong, but with Snape, apologising was always the safer bet. “I-I won’t disturb you, I promise; I only came because my aunt wanted me to take these to all the neighbours—”

“Well then, you can clear off and not bother me again.”

Harry fled as Snape slammed the door closed again, hurrying back to Number Nine.

“What went wrong?” Petunia said sharply. “What did you do?”

“N-nothing! He just didn’t want to be disturbed,” Harry said quickly.

To his relief, she bought it, and took the box back from him. “Fine. Go to your room or something.”

“Yes Aunt Petunia.”

-

Severus couldn’t believe his rotten luck. This house was supposed to be his retreat, his haven away from irritating students. How had he ended up with the world’s worst irritating student living right over the road?

Potter had looked terrified upon seeing him. Hopefully that meant the boy wouldn’t disturb him, and he could get on with his summer as normal. But the brat attracted trouble like flies to a honey pot.

Severus grabbed a handful of Floo powder and cast it into his fireplace, calling, “Albus Dumbledore!”

In a whirl of ash, Albus appeared, looking slightly frazzled. “Afternoon, Severus.”

“Lost something, Albus?” Severus said drily.

Albus blinked. “Yes, actually—Harry Potter’s family seem to have up and moved without telling anyone where they were going. I’ve been trying to trace them … How did you know?”

“Congratulations, you found them.” Severus jabbed his finger out of the living room window. “They live at Number Nine now.”

Relief crossed Albus’ face, followed by amusement, and Severus scowled further. “It’s not funny, Albus. I did not ask to have Potter living in my road. Get rid of them.”

“Excuse me? And how do you expect me to get rid of them?” Albus asked pleasantly.

“Don’t give me that; you’re Albus Dumbledore. I’m sure if you put your mind to it there are any number of ways you could send them back where they came from. Didn’t they agree anyway to raise the boy under that roof so he was protected, hmm? He’s not protected now!” If any argument would make Albus agree, it was this one. “He’s a sitting duck! They broke their agreement, so you have every right—”

“The wards can be cast perfectly fine here; I’ll do them tonight,” Albus said. “I’m sure the family had their reasons for moving here, I will not force them to move back just so you can avoid seeing Harry during the holiday.”

Severus ground his teeth. “Then in future you’ll find me in St Mungo’s Closed Ward, because if I have to put up with that brat all year round I will lose my sanity. That will be on your head.”

“I will take the risk.” Albus looked like he was struggling not to laugh. “I’m sure you’ll be fine, Severus. Perhaps you could take this opportunity to get to know Harry a little better?”

“Maybe you belong in St Mungo’s, because that is never going to happen.”

“Suit yourself. I’m sure Harry won’t be bothering you now he knows you’re here. I’ll leave you to it. Have a good summer, Severus.”

“Hmph!”