Harry looked around the circular room. There were different trinkets all over. Some big, some small. They all seem to tell a different story. There was a snow globe that had a stone fountain in it. Another was of a knight on a horse. The one that really caught his eye was a medium statuette of a house. There was something familiar about the house. He couldn’t take his eyes off the trinket. He wanted to reach out and touch one, but fear of damaging it stayed his hand. He learned a long time ago that he destroyed everything he touched.  He didn't want to disturb any of these precious items.

Reluctantly, Harry moved from the trinkets on the wall. There was a glass cabinet in the corner. There were different sizes of phials. All of them had a glowing silvery string floating in them.

Albus watched as Harry walked around his chambers. He wanted to talk to him and learn more about what he saw while he was in the forest, but the look of awe and wonder on the child’s face stayed his questioning. 

“Harry,” Albus called out softly. He walked behind his desk and sat down.

Harry turned to the Headmaster and realized he was snooping around his office. He immediately flushed with embarrassment.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Harry berated himself. I’m not supposed to snoop. Freaks don’t wander. 

Harry lowered his head and slowly walked over to the Headmaster’s desk.

“Sorry, Headmaster,” Harry mumbled, twisting his fingers around his school robe. 

“Why are you sorry?” Albus inquired softly.

“I was snooping. It’s wrong to snoop,” Harry said. “Freaks aren’t allowed to snoop. They are to stay hidden.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, my boy,” Albus soothed. He didn’t like what he was hearing, but he would deal with that later. Now, he needed to calm Harry down. “I’m honored that you appreciate my items.”

Harry kept his head down. His fingers twisted more tightly around his fingers, mumbling to himself.

“Harry,” Albus said, not liking the words he was hearing. “Come here, child.”

Harry didn’t want to see the disappointment or anger on the Headmaster’s face, so he kept his head down, shaking his head. The last thing he wanted was to be in striking distance. He was fooled by that once. It took two days before he could stand straight. 

Albus watched how the small child basically folded into himself. He could feel the fear emanating from the child. It had been a long time since he’s seen this kind of attitude. When Severus came to him, he didn’t exude this much fear. As much as he wanted to soothe the child, he knew going over to him would only make matters worse. Casting a Patronus, he called the only person who could calm the child.

___000___000___000

After leaving the Infirmary, Severus went to his office. It became apparent that at an early age, Severus had the ability to sense magical signatures. He wouldn’t know who cast the magic but knew if it was foreign from what should be there. This was how he knew during the first Quidditch match that whoever cursed Potter’s broom wasn’t a student that was playing a trick. The magic was too powerful. Same with the practice Bludger. 

With Mr. Longbottom, this was a little different. There was a small trace of a foreign signature on the child, but since it was the previous day, it was harder to distinguish. Hence the reason Severus was in his office now. He wanted to search through his journals to see if there was a way that could help him determine if the second jinx that was fired at Longbottom was from a student or adult. 

As the Potions Master closed one journal and was about to start on another one, a phoenix Patronus floated towards him. 

“That man picks the worst timing,” Severus growled to himself. 

When Severus came out of the fireplace in the Headmaster’s chambers, he was not expecting what he walked into. Albus met Severus’ gaze. He was sitting behind his desk, a worried expression on his face. Harry was cowering against the wall. From where Severus stood, he could see that the child was possibly losing feeling in his fingers as tight as the fabric was around the child’s fingers.  

Severus walked over to the small child. He could see that the boy was in distress. Harry’s face was soaked with tears. He went to his knees in front of Harry. He reached out, and Harry jerked back, bumping his head against the wall. With his fingers so tightly wound in the fabric, Severus heard a slight tear.

Severus tried again to grasp the child’s hand. This time slowly. 

Once again, Harry jumped, but Severus held firm. He wanted Harry to come to realize who was in front of him. 

“Harry,” Severus said quietly. “Harry, I need you to look at me.”

This time there was a different reaction from the child. Harry looked at the man kneeling in front of him. 

Recognition came quickly. 

His safety was in front of him. Harry reached out with his robe still twisted around his fingers. He watched as his professor grabbed his hands and untangled the fabric wrapped around them. Harry heard the man tsk as he removed his robe. Harry’s shoulders shook; his face contorted into agony and self-loathing. 

“All these tears,” Severus softly admonished as he took off Harry’s glasses, putting them in his inside pocket, and then massaged the child’s fingers in an attempt to get the blood flowing in them. Severus then opened his arms, saying, “Come here, spider monkey.” 

Harry all but collapsed in his safety’s arms. Only a small whine came from him.

Severus stood up and walked over to one of the overly plush chaise chairs that were across from Albus’ desk. And, once again, his little spider monkey was draped over his chest. 

“What happened?” Severus asked as he soothingly rubbed his hand up and down Harry’s back. 

“I wish I could tell you,” Albus sighed. “He just got upset when I asked him to come to sit. Then he worked himself into a panic thinking he’d done something wrong.”

Severus shook his head as he rocked from side to side, trying to soothe the child in his arms. 

___000___000___000

As Minerva walked down the corridors, she thought back on how Harry acted in Severus’ arms. She agreed with Severus that Harry shouldn’t have had a detention in the forest. So, she decided she needed to go straight to the source.

She knew that Quirrell didn’t have class at the moment. The children were having breakfast, and Quirrell usually didn’t come to the Great Hall in the mornings. She figured she would find the Defense Professor in his office. She knocked on his door, and once she was acknowledged, she walked in, closing the door behind her.

___000___000___000

It didn’t take long for Harry to calm down. He was now sitting in the other over-plush chair, much to his disappointment. He wanted to stay in his professor’s arms. But Harry learned a long time ago that he would never have what he wanted. 

“Harry, child,” Albus said softly, bringing the child out of his thoughts. “May I ask what upset you so?”

“I was snooping,” Harry whispered. “It’s rude to snoop.”

Severus’ brows knitted together as he thought about that statement. He had caught Harry in his office, alone just a few days ago. He wasn’t this upset about that fact. But he held his thoughts for later. It wasn’t the time to bring that up.

“You were not snooping,” Albus corrected. “You were fascinated by the trinkets around my chambers. Believe me, you are not the first to look around. And I promise you will not be the last.”

Harry bit his lip as he listened to the Headmaster. He didn’t want to hope that he wouldn’t be in trouble. He was brought out of his thoughts when he felt fingers pull his lip from between his teeth. He looked up at Professor Snape and saw him looking at him. He was about to start wrapping his fingers in his robes again when he saw potion-stained fingers free his fingers.

“Harry,” Albus continued. “All these items are here to be observed and cherished. I would be hurt if you didn’t admire them.”

Severus tried his best not to roll his eyes at that statement. Try being the word. 

“Harry, when I asked you to come to me...” 

Harry, once again, tried to wrap his fingers around his robes but couldn’t because his professor had a strong grip on the child’s hands. 

“...I did not intend to scare you,” Albus said. 

“I didn’t want to get beaten,” Harry blurted. Albus and Severus were stunned at the child’s statement. “Being nosy and trying to be like normal people will get you punished. I don’t want to be hurt. Not again. I don’t want-”

Again? “Who hurt you, Harry?” Severus growled, cutting the child off.

Harry looked up and saw the anger in Professor Snape’s face and unbelief in Professor Dumbledore's. What did he do? He had to fix it.

“Please, don’t be angry,” Harry said, looking from Professor Snape to Professor Dumbledore. “It’s only Freaks who get punished.”

“Harry-” Severus growled but was cut off.

“What else do Freaks get?” Albus asked. 

“Albus!” Severus turned his attention to the old geezer that dared to continue to allow his child to see himself as “Freak.” 

Albus knew Severus was getting upset, but it seemed there were underlying things in addition to what Harry mumbled earlier that needed to come out about Harry that seemed to have been overlooked. When he looked at his adopted son, he returned with his own icy glare that rivaled Severus’glare. 

“Freaks have to earn what they get,” Harry said. “It’s okay, though.” 

“And how is it okay?” Albus asked. Though his voice was calm, the wizened wizard was fuming on the inside. 

“I learned how to stay quiet,” Harry said. “If I’m quiet and not seen, then I won’t get hurt. I do my chores and don’t complain. Make meals and not ask for food, but I learned how to sneak to get food,” Harry said. “When I’m left to clean up the dishes, I sometimes find food in the bin. I sneak it into my cupboard. Most times, I would get away with it. There was only been a couple of times it didn’t work. But that didn’t stop me. I just got better at sneaking around and learned not to get caught. 

A growl escaped Severus’ mouth when he stood up. He started pacing the room. There was a tone of accomplishment in the child’s voice as if he was proud that he could sneak food. Sneak food. Wherever he was, they weren’t feeding him. Severus turned and looked at the boy in the chair. Really looked at him. He was small. The smallest of all the first years. He never questioned before how easy it was to hold the child in his arms. His mind quickly went back to those disparaging words he had heard from the child earlier in the term.

“You’re just a burden. A freak. Nobody likes you.”

Severus didn’t understand it when he first heard the words but listening to the child now, a clearer picture was forming in his head. He was not liking what it was revealing. 

“Did I say something wrong?” Harry asked, breaking Severus from his thoughts.

Harry was nervous at first when he saw the angry faces of his professors. But then he realized this was different. He had to learn at an early age how to read people’s expressions. What Harry was looking at wasn’t the anger he was used to.

The Professors’ anger didn’t look like Uncle Vernon’s anger. It didn’t feel like it either. When Uncle Vernon got angry, it seemed like the air got thick in the room. Harry felt stifled. When Vernon stood over Harry, his uncle’s face would turn red. Harry had once wondered if his uncle’s head would actually explode. And plus, Uncle Vernon would be screaming until the windows shook. But Professors Snape and Dumbledore their anger was different. They weren’t looking at Harry with rage in their eyes. 

They weren’t angry at him. 

It was a strange feeling not being the reason behind someone’s anger. It was a foreign feeling. A foreign feeling he was beginning to like. Something he wanted to last forever. Harry wanted to bottle it and never let go.

Harry got up and stood in his professor’s path from where he was pacing. “Are you mad at me?” Harry had to be sure of his assumption. He needed to know.

Severus looked down at the child who seemed to worm through all the mess of his life and was determined to attach himself to the Professor’s heart. After everything Severus had just learned, Harry was worried if the Potions Master was angry at him. Him. 

Without prompting from the child, Severus gripped the child under his arms and picked up the child, holding him against his chest. All the preconceived assumptions he had before the school year were a lie. This child wasn’t pampered. He wasn’t spoiled. 

Tears burned Harry’s eyes as he wrapped his arms around his professor’s neck. 

___000___000___000

Minerva walked up to Quirrell’s desk and sat in the small wooden chair that was used for students. 

“Might I have a moment of your time, Professor?” Minerva asked.

“What can I do for you, Minerva?”

Minerva didn’t answer. She just looked at him stone-faced.

“F-forgive me,” Quirrell backtracked. “Pro-professor McGon-nagall.”

Minerva slightly nodded. “I’ve come to talk to you about the detentions you give out.”

“Is th-there something w-wrong with how I discipline my st-students?” Quirrell asked, putting down his quill and standing.

Minerva knew what Quirrell was trying to do. Standing above her as if he would be intimidating. It would take more than pompous grand-standing to intimidate her. 

“If it is prescribed punishments set by the Board,” Minerva stated, “then no, I have no problem, but there was an issue with your latest detention.”

“I d-don’t believe so,” Quirrell countered. “The p-punishment fitted the offense.”

“Really?” Minerva asked, pulling her wand from its hiding place and twirling it between her fingers. “So, it is usual practice to send students into the Forbidden Forest as punishment?”

“I see,” Quirrell said, walking back to his seat behind his desk. “This is about P-potter.”

Minerva said nothing.

“Mr. Potter used a d-dark curse in my class,” Quirrell stated. “Hagrid told me the issues he was having in the forest, so I th-thought it would be good for P-potter to accompany him.”

“I will talk with Hagrid,” Minerva said, standing up from her chair. “Also, I expect you to be in the Headmaster’s office tonight. You will explain to him why you saw fit to send a student to a known forbidden place.” Minerva turned without a second glance. Before she left the office, she spoke with her back facing the Defense professor. 

“Let’s be clear if I learn that another student’s punishment will in some way be harmful to him, you won’t have to worry about dealing with Albus. I’ll come after you myself.”

The only sound after that was the click of the door latching into place. 

Quirrell snarled as he looked at the closed door. 

“You blithering idiot!” the voice hissed. “One simple thing.” cough wheezing-cough

“Please, calm down, M-m-master,” Quirrell whimpered. “I can f-f-fix th-this.”

“You better.”

___000___000___000

Minerva walked into the Headmaster’s chambers and was met by Albus and Severus staring blankly in the distance. The usual twinkle that Albus always exudes was gone. And Severus, as usual, had an intense snarl on his face. And Harry was lying across Severus’ chest, appearing to be asleep. 

“Is everything alright?” Minerva asked, bringing the two wizards out of their thoughts. 

“Just learned some unsettling information from Harry,” Albus said. 

“Unsettling?” Severus scoffed. “Disturbing, no, atrocious is a better word.”

Minerva had never seen Albus look this distracted. It had to be horrifying if he looked like this. She looked over at the child in question, he had his head under Severus’ chin, one of his hands gripping Severus’ robes. The evenness of his breathing confirmed her earlier assumption that he was asleep.

“What did you learn?” Minerva asked, sitting in the plush chaise next to Severus. 

Between Albus and Severus, they recounted everything that Harry said. The more they talked, the angrier Minerva got. Rage wasn’t a strong enough word to show her displeasure. When they were done, Minerva’s angry tirade began.

“I TOLD YOU, ALBUS,” Minerva shouted in anger, leaning on the desk and pointing her finger at the Headmaster. “I told you that they were the worst muggles.” 

Out of reflex, Severus cupped his hand over Harry’s ear so the noise wouldn’t disturb him. He looked from a raging Animagus to a contrite Headmaster. 

“Albus,” Severus said. “What is she talking about?”

“Yes, Albus,” Minerva said, her lips pursed in aggravation. “What am I talking about?”

“You were right, Minerva,” Albus said softly. 

Severus looked to Minerva for answers since Albus wasn’t providing him any.

“I told him after Lily and James died,” Minerva started. Albus couldn’t keep eye contact with his Headmistress. “Not to leave Harry with his aunt.”

Severus' gaze turned to Albus. Rage started bubbling in his chest. He grew up with Lily. He knew her sister. She was a hateful person. Severus remembered all the cruel things she did to her sister. There were many times Lily would be at the park they met all the time with tears streaming down her cheeks. 

Growing up, Lily was always the shining light of his dreary life. She was a true friend. And learning that her son had been staying with that woman who, for some strange reason, shared a bloodline with a sweet, caring woman.

“You left Potter with Petunia Evans?” Severus asked. His voice was low, but the anger could be heard. “Didn’t you know what kind of woman she was?”

Severus stood cradling Harry in his arms. 

“It was the only safe place he could stay,” Albus tried to reason with them.

“Do you call this safe?” Minerva's anger was on overload. The trinkets Harry was admiring started to vibrate on the shelves. “Harry was not safe. Not from his relatives.”

Severus couldn’t take it anymore. Everything he’d just learned was too much. He needed some more clarification as to what Harry had been through. So, without another word, Severus got up and floo’ed out of Albus’ chambers. 

“Albus,” Minerva’s anger deflated from her when she saw the green flames vanish behind Severus. “This has to be fixed. It has to be made right. Harry can’t go back to those vile people.”

All Albus could do was nod his agreement. The blood wards weren’t worth it. He made that mistake once before. He would not do the same thing again. 

After a moment of the two wizened wizards lost in their thoughts, Minerva figured it was a great time to bring up what she learned from Quirrell. 

“Albus,” Minerva said softly. 

“What did you find out?” Albus asked. He knew she went to talk to Quirrell. 

“There is something different about him,” Minerva confessed. “I’m just not sure. As to the detention, he said that he spoke with Hagrid, and it was mentioned that he needed help in the forest. I was heading to see Hagrid.”

“Yes,” Albus sighed. “Talk with Hagrid. Find out what he knew. If Quirinius is behind something nefarious, let me know, and I will deal with it.”

Albus stood and walked from behind his desk.

“Albus,” Minerva called out.

“I’ll be away from the castle for a while,” Albus said in a monotone voice. “Do forgive my abrupt departure.” 

Albus walked towards the living area of his chambers, leaving Minerva standing alone in the Headmaster’s office.  

___000___000___000

When Severus walked away from his fireplace, he felt Harry starting to move in his arms. He sat in his high-back winged chair. He pushed Harry back so he could see him, but not from his lap. Pulling Harry’s glasses from his inside pocket, he carefully placed them on his nose.

“That was very informative, Potter,” Severus said. 

Harry lowered his head. He hated himself for spilling out his secrets, but it was like he couldn’t help himself. Now, his safety knew he was a Freak. He had tried so hard not to show his weirdness to anybody here. Now, the Headmaster and Professor Snape knew. They would probably kick him out of school because he wasn’t normal. The one place he’d ever felt relaxed was now gone. 

Harry tried to push himself off his professor’s lap. He was surprised to feel the arms of his safety wrapped tightly around him, keeping him in place.

“We need to talk,” Severus said. 

Harry's shoulders sagged. “Yes, sir.” 

“You’ve been staying at your aunt’s house?” Severus asked. 

Harry nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“You talked about doing chores.” Harry nodded again. “What kind of chores did you do?”

“Cooking the meals,” Harry started listing off, pointing to each finger the list of things. “Hoovering the living room. Mowing the lawn. Weeding the flowers. Cleaning out Dudley’s second bedroom.”

“What a minute,” Severus said, holding up his hand and cutting Harry off. “Dudley’s second bedroom?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said as if he didn’t say anything strange.

Severus lowered his head so Harry wouldn’t see the rage brewing behind his eyes. He always knew that Petunia was an evil woman, but to deny her nephew the basics of things- was too much.

“If by chance,” Severus started back talking after trying to calm down, “you didn’t get one of your chores finished. What would happen?”

The color drained the child’s face, and he started biting his lip. Harry didn’t like thinking about the punishments he endured. Some hurt, and others scared him. He could take the beatings. He would hurt afterward. But being put in that dark closet was too much. He didn’t like the dark. He didn’t like not being able to hear anything. Something could be happening, and Harry wouldn’t know it. Feeling his professor’s fingers pulling his lips out from between his teeth brought Harry out of his thoughts. 

“I had to finish whatever I was told to do,” Harry said.

“I understand that,” Severus said softly. “But there had to be a time-”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said, sighing. “I would be punished. Uncle Vernon would hit me.”

Severus’ brow furrowed. He remembered the spankings he gave Harry. The thought that he could be in the same category with someone like that broke his heart.

“The spankings you received from me,” Severus let the statement hang.

“Not like that,” Harry said quickly. “I could walk afterward. You don’t hurt me as Uncle Vernon does.” A small smile graced the child’s lips. 

“When Uncle Vernon hit,” Harry said. “He wouldn’t stop. He would just hit and hit and hit. One time, I couldn’t move right for two days. But I would rather have that instead of being in the dark.”

“Being in the dark?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “He had a closet built so I would be locked in there. It was dark, and I couldn’t hear.” Harry involuntarily shivered from the thought of that closet.

Severus was silent for a while. Then he thought back to the first detention he gave Harry: cleaning cauldrons. He thought back at how determined he was to finish. The child was adamant in wanting to get the job finished. It puzzled Severus why the boy looked so downtrodden when he walked out of his chambers. Now he knew.

Severus remembered the last time he had these feelings. His jealous pride kept him from seeing what was right in front of him. Harry Potter wasn’t what he thought. And if he didn’t prejudge the child, he would have seen it. The eagerness to please. Harry’s apology. He was worried about how I saw him. 

Severus looked at the child sitting on his lap. Without having rose-colored glasses on, he could see the same thing he felt when he found someone who gave him a chance. As much as Severus hated to admit it to anyone, he was always grateful for the love the Headmaster gave him and his willingness to see past his shame and help him.

___000___000___000   

Minerva walked down to Hagrid’s hut. She saw the half-giant and his dog sitting outside the hut. Fang was on the ground with his head on his front paws. As the Deputy Headmistress continued on her journey, she could not remember a time that Fang wasn’t jumping around and playing. As she got closer, she saw that Hagrid was crying. 

Hagrid has always had a sensitive soul. It was a shame what he was accused of. She remembered when in her final year at Hogwarts how much Hagrid was eager to learn. Then after the tragic death of a student, Hagrid was accused, expelled, and had his wand broken. Minerva never believed that Hagrid would do anything as despicable as murder. She was friendly with the half-giant and didn’t like what was happening. 

Minerva, being very good in Transfiguration, retrieved the splintered fragments of Hagrid’s wand and combined and infused them into her mother’s old umbrella. She was going to give it to him, but the Aurors had come and arrested Hagrid. 

Years later, when Minerva started at Hogwarts as the Transfiguration Professor and Albus became Headmaster, she learned that Hagrid was living on the property. She visited her friend and gave him his wand back. He was in tears when he saw the small pink umbrella. Before Minerva left that day, she expressed the importance that he shouldn’t be seen doing magic; technically, he shouldn’t have a wand.

Minerva was brought out of her musings when she heard Hagrid’s greeting. 

“Hello, there, Professor McGonagall.” Hagrid’s tone was low. “Am I going to be sacked?”

“What?” Minerva asked, surprised at the question. “No. Why would you think that?”

“Because of what happened,” Hagrid said. 

“What happened with Harry was much bigger than just last night. But it is the reason I am here.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Did you talk with Professor Quirrell about wanting help in tracking down injured Unicorn foals in the forest?” Minerva asked. 

“No, professor,” Hagrid adamantly said, shaking his head to force the point across. “I ran into him one evening. I guess he was walking the grounds. Most professors do, I noticed,” Hagrid shrugged, “so I didn’t think anything different. He asked where I was going since I had my crossbow. I told him about the poor foals I’d been finding. I was surprised to see Harry last night.”

“Thank you, Hagrid,” Minerva said. A small smile graced her lips. “And stop worrying. Harry’s fine. I’m sure he’ll be back here again. Just stay at your hut next time.”

“Yes, professor,” Hagrid said. As Minerva left and headed back towards the castle. 

____000___000___000  

It was a bright sunny day. Unusual for Surrey, but it brought peacefulness to the air. Petunia usually wasn’t the one to pick up the newspaper from the front stoop, but what could she do? That boy wasn’t here to do it. 

She walked back into the house to start making breakfast. She didn’t like to cook. It wasn’t that she couldn’t cook. But why should she have to when she had a freak that could take on that chore. But, again, the boy wasn’t there. He was at that school. It would have been so much easier if he went to Stonewall. He would be here now, making breakfast before leaving. Now, she was stuck doing it. 

Petunia hated Hogwarts. They thought they were so special. She hated Lily for being “special.” Everyone doted on her. But Petunia, no, she was the oddball. She was a normal human, and she was the oddball.

Well, she wasn’t the oddball now. She had a normal husband and a normal child: her Duddikins. She loved her son. And she was going to prove that her son was better than that freak they were saddled with. That boy will feel everything she went through growing up. And she would give her son the stars.

Knowing what she was doing for her son boosted her spirits enough to forget she didn’t like the chore of cooking. She got to work making the best breakfast for her husband and son. 

___000___000___000

Albus stood under the signpost indicating that the two streets at the intersection were Magnolia Street and Privet Drive. It was ten years ago Albus stood at the very spot waiting for Hagrid to bring baby Harry. 

The Headmaster rarely delved into those horrible days. The loss, betrayal, and anger were all around. The Prewett twins were a force to be reckoned with. Learning of their passing was a hard blow. The attack on the Longbottoms was gut-wrenching. Frank and Alice were powerful Aurors. For them to be tortured to the point of madness. The only blessing was that baby Neville was not home. But the hardest for Albus was the death of the Potters. He personally put safety guards that should have protected them. The fact that someone was able to get past those wards was disconcerting. He knew that when he placed Harry with his family, the wards would be stronger. He would not make that same mistake again.

Coming out of that memory, Albus once again made the mistake of trusting the protection wards he put on Harry’s house. It seemed to protect him from those who wished to harm the child outside the home but failed to protect him from within the home. But never would Albus think that Harry would need protection from his family. 

Albus wanted to go to Number Four, and he would. But it would be best for all involved that he calmed down first. 

___000___000___000

Petunia was plating the last of the breakfast. She could hear both of her loves walking around upstairs. She knew they could smell the food cooking. 

There was a knock at the door. Petunia wiped her hands on her floral apron as she walked to the door. 

“Hello,” Petunia said as she opened the door and froze.

Petunia had heard tales from her sister and the creepy boy she hung around with during the summer months. Seeing the man in front of her, Petunia knew, even though she’d never seen the man, he was the Headmaster of the school. It seemed his ice-cold blue eyes bore down into her soul. She was frightened. Never had she met someone that alluded this much energy and presence to make a person fear for their life. 

“Mrs. Dursley,” Albus said. “I believe it is time I spoke with you and your husband.”

“Wh-what are you doing here?” Petunia asked when she finally found her voice. 

“Invite me in,” Albus said. 

Albus’ tone was not his usual grandfatherly one. It had been a long time since he let out his anger.

A shiver went through Petunia as she stepped back. The idea of refusing his request didn’t enter her mind. Something told her if she didn’t let him in, it would not have ended well. 

Albus walked into the house. He saw the steps that led upstairs. He continued further into the house until he came upon a small door that was under said stairs. He placed his hand on the small door. This was where Harry had been living all these years. The aroma of food wafted through the air. If Harry were here, it would have been he who had to prepare it. Albus walked through the door that led towards the kitchen. On the table were several platters of food: grilled tomatoes, eggs, bacon, and baked beans. The amount of food could feed a small regimen. And there wasn’t enough of this to give Harry a serving. 

The more Albus looked at the food, the more the anger in him grew. He held his hand outstretched towards the food and balled his fingers into a fist. The food on the table turned sour. The aroma of a freshly cooked meal turned into the toxic smell of waste. 

Petunia rushed into the kitchen just when the food turned. How dare he destroy her family’s breakfast.  

“What did you do to my food?” Petunia screeched.  

Her protest about the food died in her throat at the look she was receiving.  

“What is that smell?” a male’s voice roared from upstairs.

“I gather that would be Mr. Dursley?” Albus asked Petunia.

Petunia was only able to nod. Albus walked out of the kitchen and saw a huge man clamoring down the stairs. 

“Who the hell are you?” Vernon growled. “And what are you doing in my house?”

“I am Albus Dumbledore. I’m the Headmaster of Hogwarts.”

“Get out of my house,” Vernon roared. His face was turning a dark shade of red. It was almost purple. “I will not have you Freaks disrupting our lives. We sent the boy there. I don’t expect that Freak to return.”

Albus was not fazed by the rantings that spewed out of the male muggle’s mouth. He let the man continue. Albus looked over at Petunia and saw she was growing paler by the minute. Albus heard footsteps at the top of the stairs. When he looked at the young male Dursley, his anger reached the tipping point. 

The child was three times larger than Harry. Three times. Albus had seen all he needed to. 

“Enough.” 

Albus’ tone wasn’t any louder than if he were talking to someone in his chambers, but the force of power behind it vibrated the windows. 

Vernon’s tirade stopped immediately.

Albus looked up at the child. Waving his hand, Albus said, “Come down, child.”

As if cursed by a spell, Dudley walked down the stairs until he stood next to his father. 

“What is your name, child?” Albus asked. 

Petunia was about to object to Albus speaking to her son, but the glare she received from the wizened wizard kept her mouth closed.

“Uh, Dudley, sir,” Dudley squeaked. As he looked at the old man standing in front of him, he had never felt this intimidated before. There was something about this man that terrified him. 

“I believe it is time for you to go to school,” Albus declared. 

“But I haven’t had breakfast,” Dudley whined. 

Albus snapped his fingers. The child’s school items appeared in front of them.

“I will not have that freak magic–” Vernon started until he was cut off. 

Albus waved his hand and silenced the rotund man. He was tired of listening to him. 

Albus said. “I’m sure your school serves food. Good day.”

Dudley was about to say something more, but seeing his mother shaking her head, he grabbed his things and stomped outside. 

“I see you spoil the child, Petunia,” Albus observed. “Now that the young one is off to school, I believe we can have our conversation. Shall we sit?”

Without being escorted or given permission, Albus walked into the sitting room and made himself comfortable in a flowery wingback chair by the fireplace. 

Petunia and Vernon followed the Headmaster inside. They sat on the small sofa adjacent to the chair. 

“Now,” Albus began, “I want to discuss your treatment of Harry Potter.” 

Albus saw Vernon was trying to talk, but since he had the silencing charm on the man, no sound emerged from him. 

“We did nothing wrong,” Petunia defended. “He’s alive. He had a roof over his head. He was given food. And we taught him the importance of hard work.”

Albus tilted his head, looking over his half-moon glasses, and raising an eyebrow at the woman. 

There was a tension growing around the room. Albus didn’t speak. Vernon finally stopped trying to. And Petunia started getting nervous. 

Albus' eyes bore into Petunia. She felt like he was looking into her soul. The feeling disturbed her. 

After a long moment of intense silence, Albus finally spoke, “So, if I’m to understand you correctly, as long as young Harry received the minimum basics of care, everything should be fine?”

Neither Vernon nor Petunia try to answer the Headmaster’s question. Which showed Albus that they knew the two Dursley adults had taken things too far. 

“Well,” Albus continued, “since you feel that’s all that is needed to produce a healthy, happy child, then let's see you live like that.”

Before either Dursley could form their disagreement, everything in the house changed. All the luxuries that adorned the house disappeared. The television. The decorated trinkets that lined the mantel. The distinct sounds of popping could be heard throughout the house. When the noise was silenced, Albus looked over at the distraught couple. 

“You had one job to do,” Albus said, shaking his head. “Petunia, my dear, if you didn’t want the responsibilities of taking care of Harry, all you had to do was contact me. I know you knew how?” 

Vernon's shocked look went from his wife to the Headmaster and back to his wife. 

Albus could see the questioning look in the male Dursley, so he decided to give the man the answers he was seeking. 

“When Petunia’s sister, Lily, got her letter stating that she was accepted into Hogwarts,” Albus started. “Petunia wrote to me several times asking if she could attend as well. She wanted to come.”

Petunia’s face was beet red as tears streamed down her face. She never told her husband that, nor did she expect it to come back and haunt her. 

“Well, I will leave you two,” Albus said, standing up. “I’ve held my anger long enough.” He walked over to the door that led out to the foyer. “Oh, one more thing. Since you do not wish for young Harry to be here, he will not return. Good day.” 

Albus turned and disappeared from the house. 

Once Albus left, Vernon was able to speak. Petunia looked around her now desolate house. All of her pretty decorations were gone. She got up and left the sitting room. She could tell that Vernon wanted to talk, but she didn’t.

A sharp gasp escaped her mouth when she saw what her kitchen looked like. More tears spilled. 

The phone rang.

“Hello,” Petunia answered, making her voice sound normal. “Yes, this is she. I don’t understand. But you can’t. He must go to Smelting. But. No. Please.” A clicking sound made Petunia take the receiver from her ear. 

Vernon had walked in during her time on the phone.

“What’s the matter?” Vernon asked. “What happened?”

“Dudley’s been kicked out of Smelting,” Petunia screeched. “They said he had been bullying the other students. They have a zero tolerance policy, and they are sending him home.”

Vernon was about to reply to that, but the knocking on the door interrupted him. Vernon went to the door. He was speechless when he saw that his car was being towed out of his driveway.

“Wh-what is the meaning of this?” Vernon shouted when he got his voice. 

“I received this notice for a Vernon Dursley.” The man in blue coveralls said. “This is from Grunning. They are taking back the car.” 

“How am I supposed to get to work?” Vernon asked indignantly. 

“There’s always public transportation,” the man finishing up hooking the car, wearing the same blue coveralls, called out laughing. 

Petunia stood in the middle of the foyer and cried. It never failed. Lily would always be the special one. Nothing ever worked for Petunia. She lost all of her special trinkets. Vernon was losing his car. And Dudley, her precious baby, was getting kicked out of the most prestigious schools in the area.  

___000___000___000

Albus left the Dursleys not feeling better but definitely not feeling any worse. The last thing he did before leaving was removing the Blood Wards that were erected when he placed Harry there. 

Albus walked over to where his Pheonix stood. He rubbed his fingers over the majestic bird’s feathers. Fauks started to trill. The soothing sounds began to calm Albus.

TBC