"As you said, Harry, Professor Snape? Severus Snape?" Aunt Petunia clarified, and after Harry's confirming nod, she nearly set the cheese plate past the table.
"You know him?" Vernon caught the cheese and looked at his wife with interest. "I've been meaning to ask, do you remember any wizard acquaintances, friends of your sister's, perhaps?"
"Why do you need to know?" Petunia was surprised at first, but decided to clarify about the professor and turned to her nephew. "Harry, is he... " she paused, choosing her words, "...black-haired, tall, big-nosed?"
Her nephew nodded eagerly and broke into a satisfied smile... which, however, quickly faded.
He thought it was not for nothing they had agreed to mention only Flitwick as the dean of "the smartest house." After all, they were still being watched on Privet Drive. His cousin, by the way, had recently "verified" this, resulting in Mrs. Figg having to load up on various sedatives and even valerian, which her cats greatly appreciated. Well, for a couple of days they would carefully sniff and rub against their mistress, not letting her take a single step, but then what? What if his aunt carelessly said something about Snape, even just to his uncle, and Figg overheard? What then?
Petunia closely watched the change of emotions on her nephew's face. Why hadn't she reacted to the familiar surname before, when it kept coming up in conversations? But there were plenty of Snapes in England... Maybe that's why she stubbornly hadn't connected it with that very boy she'd known since childhood and about whom she could say nothing good... Well, almost nothing good. Yes. But the first name was rare, and black-eyed and black-haired—not an English type, so yes, it was definitely him. But why was her nephew so alarmed?
When she found out that the child was apparently afraid of compromising the professor, she was very surprised. It was hard for her to imagine that something worthwhile could have come from that obnoxious teenager. However, since he was a professor... And Harry seemed to regard him quite well. But how, she wondered, did he imagine this: would she shout his professor's name in the middle of the lawn in front of the house? She hadn't uttered his name in twenty years and had barely remembered him, she could manage another twenty. Petunia immediately conveyed this to her nephew, and he calmed down at once.
And then she told him what she could; though it turned out to be very little. "Lived nearby, dysfunctional family, poor, was friends with Lily, then they quarreled"—that was all. Why mention that her sister and this fellow often hurt her? Though maybe they didn't think then about how hurtful it was that they didn't include her in their company because she wasn't a witch? Ah, childhood... Who came up with the idea that it was golden? It was all kinds of things...
***
Vernon Dursley couldn't let go of his nephew's story, and however unpleasant it was for him to even think about the need to visit that strange, incomprehensible and disturbing world of magic, he decided not to postpone it for long. The sooner they could deal with the troubles, the better, because the status of a wealthy orphan, without guardians and without relatives, was not at all the future he could wish for his nephew. And the protection... Mrs. Fields had already received the order and even forwarded it to him, a courier with a protective amulet made by some Swiss master should arrive any moment. Damn expensive, but Mr. Dursley wasn't going to economize on safety.
Two days later, uncle and nephew, dressed according to Diagon Alley fashion from Twilfitt and Tatting's, finally visited Gringotts... and learned many new things. Harry watched his uncle with wide eyes and diligently took note of everything he did and said. The goblins glared angrily, but couldn't do anything more. "I'll have to ask for one of those things myself, useful item," thought Harry, to whom Vernon had shown a small pendant with some incomprehensible letters or symbols. And when he learned the price... Learning to make such things himself would probably be much more interesting than turning into a dragon and, er, converting food into fertilizer.
They finally received statements of property, and Harry learned that his parents' house, the one in Godric's Hollow, was completely intact and... still under the Fidelius Charm: the Secret Keeper was alive, though in Azkaban. It turned out that many wizards living in their own houses outside large wizard settlements used this spell. The most interesting thing was that Harry could quite easily enter it, because at the time the spell was cast, he was inside the house.
"So for all wizards and Muggles the house looks like ruins, but it's actually in perfect order?" Vernon clarified.
The goblin confirmed. This time, besides Blordak, they were "honored with the presence" of two more bank employees, and with each minute their glances toward Mr. Dursley showed more and more respect. And when it came to deposits and securities...
Harry honestly strained and tried to remember what he could, but quite quickly zoned out, and in his imagination loomed... a house. Just think, he had his own house! And he wondered, could anyone besides him get in there? And if he led them? Who cast the protection, Dumbledore? Couldn't something be changed in it?
"Excuse me for interrupting," he tried to interject into the adult conversation as gently as possible, and therefore waited for a pause, "may I know who cast the Fidelius?"
Blordak nearly choked:
"The master of the house, naturally. Protection of this kind is usually not entrusted to anyone else... Weren't you taught this? Oh. Forgive me," he saw Harry's skeptical smirk. "Of course, your father should have chosen the Keeper more carefully, or simply taken an Unbreakable Vow from Black, but there... Now you understand that you shouldn't trust anyone just like that, without oaths, vows and obligations? It's a pity that this knowledge cost you such a dear price," the goblin added, noticing the look Potter's guardian was drilling into him.
"So no one has entered the house since then," thought Harry, and several of his favorite detective stories flashed through his mind. "I'll need to examine everything carefully. If only I could convince Snape... and Flitwick too! Ha... the library! They talked about it, but where is it—in his parents' house or the elder Potters'? After all, they seemed to be talking about an estate?"
Who Black was and where he came from, Potter preferred not to clarify: the goblin spoke of him as a Secret Keeper known to all who had betrayed the Potter family, and for Harry that was enough for now. He's sitting in Azkaban, let him sit there. He didn't want to make himself look like a complete ignoramus.
He asked about the estate, but immediately got the disappointing news: the family inheritance would be available to him after coming of age, blah-blah-blah, if he proved worthy, blah-blah... What? What does it mean—prove worthy, are there other claimants? There aren't? Then what's the problem? If he's recognized as only partially capable, then everything will go partly to the bank, partly to the guardians? Harry nearly choked with indignation, but then Vernon Dursley himself took to the warpath...
Harry quietly basked in bliss. The goblins were barely holding back their teeth-grinding. Who would have thought this Muggle was not so simple?! It seems the bank won't get anything...
And when his uncle started talking about guardians and lost documents... while outlining how an experienced lawyer would evaluate the question of the heir's competency after the bank lost guardianship documents. A reliable and respected bank? You don't say? The goblins' ears even drooped like naughty puppies. And if some journalist gets wind of this... The bank would be most interested in recognizing Harry Potter as competent, full-fledged, adequate and so on. A worthy heir. Otherwise they wouldn't wash themselves clean.
It turned out uncle's connections in certain circles could greatly damage the goblins' affairs! Who said they only work with wizards? Vernon had long ago found out some things and knew what to bet on.
***
"Well, Uncle Vernon... how you handled them! But how do you know so much?" His nephew looked at him with admiration as they settled in the car, and this was very pleasant indeed.
"You won't believe it, but it all started with that very shooting club," Mr. Dursley smoothed his mustache contentedly. "We go there without you too, your aunt... signed up for competitions."
And he told how unexpectedly easily he managed to get close to one of the financial tycoons. All it took was to suggest that the somewhat inadequate behavior of his beloved dog was caused by stress from loud sounds and an unfamiliar environment. And then give a couple of tips, which thanks to one avid dog lady, Vernon happened to be good at.
"Well, well," Harry laughed. "Thanks to Aunt Marge, I never would have thought."
"I've already thanked her for the lesson."
***
Petunia Dursley found her husband in the kitchen at five-thirty in the morning in the company of a cup of cold coffee and deep in thought. She carefully ran her hand over his arm and sat down next to him. Vernon covered her thin fingers with his broad palm, and they were silent for a moment.
"How everything has changed..."
"Yes," she sighed. "So many troubles have fallen on you because of my wayward family... And yet Harry should have other relatives, James was practically the son of a lord..."
"Only our nephew remains from that family now."
"Are you... sure?"
"If we're talking about direct heirs, yes."
"I don't like this..."
"Neither do I, Pet, neither do I... The boy needs an elder, and it should be a wizard. Strong enough to protect him in their world if necessary, smart enough to defend his interests, and honest or rich enough not to lay claim to his property. A proxy, even under oath, I'm afraid, is not enough."
"But where can we find such a person?.."
"I've looked through his family connections. You know, there's some Andromeda Black, married to a Muggle-born Tonks. Haven't heard of her?"
Petunia shrugged, and he continued:
"But her family connections... are not the best, and for this marriage she was, as they say, burned out of the family."
"So she's not a helper."
"Seems so. Even if she agreed, she has no reputation. And in any case it will reflect on the boy too, as a ward or dependent."
"What nonsense... Throwing someone out of the family for a mésalliance! Strange customs in the magical world, I'll never understand them!"
"Andromeda—what a name they gave her—has a sister, Narcissa Malfoy... She has a son the same age. But I can't imagine how to reach her—her husband is quite the snob."
"Then there's no point in going to them—what would it be like for Harry there?"
"And I'm thinking more and more about this potions professor... Harry is clearly not indifferent to him. And you said you knew him better than all your sister's other friends... Since childhood. Maybe you could talk to him as an old acquaintance?"
Instead of answering, Petunia pressed her lips together, stood up and rattled the dishes. She needed to think. On the one hand, the memories she retained were far from the best, but on the other... She was curious about what that runt had grown into. Professor of the main and only school—that's probably quite a good status? They don't take just anyone there, do they?
"All right," she dropped, starting to whip batter for pancakes. "I'll send him a letter with Harry."
"And a pie," Vernon added.
"Why?"
"Well, you're already preparing snacks for Harry so they don't think we don't care about the boy there. You think he doesn't share? You could even invite him for tea..."
***
When Potter brought a note from his aunt, Severus was even confused. Petunia Dursley, née Evans, had invited him to visit. For tea. Him. It didn't fit in his head, despite the fact that Potter had trained him well in this regard.
On the one hand, he didn't want this meeting at all, but on the other... Finding out how and with whom Harry lived would probably not be superfluous. But going to a house obviously under the headmaster's surveillance, and perhaps not only his, seemed idiotic. He easily explained this to Potter and suggested a meeting somewhere in a café, in any city convenient for Mrs. Dursley.
Petunia chose... Manchester, naturally. First, her friend lived there, second, Mrs. Fields, third, if anything, Marjorie Dursley with her bulldogs. But most importantly, while Harry was seeing the psychologist, she and Vernon had visited many cafés, and now she was perfectly oriented in them.
The sunny day and quite cozy café seemed to invite relaxation, but Severus felt: something would happen. While waiting, he slowly sipped coffee, bitter, thick and strong, slightly reminiscent of nutmeg, and carefully watched everyone entering the non-smoking room: tobacco smoke was categorically contraindicated for a potioneer's nose.
A thin woman in a light blue dress appeared in the doorway... Light hair with an imperceptible hint of red. Petunia? She looked nothing like Lily, but... it was clear she was an Evans. Severus stood up, greeting her, and helped her sit down, pulling out the chair.
Mrs. Dursley, like a true woman, had been preparing since morning. Her husband even chuckled a couple of times, to which she fairly noted that, like it or not, it would be better to make the most favorable impression. She wanted to arrive early, but then changed her mind and spent half an hour trying on some completely unnecessary hats in a nearby shop. And was a little late, that's all.
She saw Severus from the doorway—tall and black, he stood out against the general background with his strict figure, even when sitting. He... no, she wouldn't call him handsome, far from it, but from the awkward skinny teenager had emerged a definitely interesting man. At least two ladies sitting at a nearby table were looking in his direction quite interestedly, and they literally pierced her with their glances as soon as she approached and greeted him.
Unexpectedly she thought what a beautiful couple they could have made... Flame-red Lily and coal-black Severus. And she barely held back tears. Fortunately, he didn't notice (or pretended not to, it didn't matter). Most importantly—he turned away, calling the waiter, and gave her a chance to collect herself.
"Mr. Snape, forgive my insistence, but I need to talk to you. About Harry. How much time do you have?"
"I'm ready to hear everything you deem necessary, Mrs. Dursley," he replied impassively.
He already assumed what exactly he would hear, but still... Why does "iron Pet" have suspiciously shining eyes? Could it be tears? That's all he needed.
The woman looked and uncertainly offered:
"Severus? I... may I... you... call you that? Um, for old times' sake?"
"For old and not very good times' sake, it would be better not to call me anything at all," he almost snapped, but looking at her face, he restrained himself. Argue with a woman ready to cry? Spare me.
"Yes, Petunia, of course. May I order something for you or will you choose yourself?"
How timely the waiter approached, he'd need to leave a tip... Routine actions, along with Severus's calm readiness for conversation, helped her calm down, and she continued more confidently.
"Harry needs a mentor. He's drawn to you, as," Mrs. Dursley bit her lip and caught her breath, "he probably would have been drawn to his father. Alas, Vernon and I can't replace his parents..."
Here Severus's breath caught, so much so that he couldn't answer right away.
"You... me?!.. Are you suggesting I replace Lily and James? With all that he's lived his whole life with you and seems quite content with it..."
"Severus, I meant not our world! And... He only talks about you! " Petunia suddenly got angry. "Don't snort and don't... don't fiddle with your eyebrows!"
"Don't what?" Snape was taken aback.
Mrs. Dursley blushed and bit her tongue. Why did she get so carried away...
"I'm quite surprised that you've... become so attached to your nephew. Didn't expect it."
"It's all not like that... Severus... Maybe we could go out on the balcony? This café has one, I know. There... no one will be able to overhear."
"No one can hear us as it is. And won't, as long as I'm here."
"Oh yes, you can..."
"Not can, but already did," Snape interrupted her. "Go on."
After Petunia's confession, Snape sat thoughtful and grim. Mrs. Dursley silently cursed herself for trusting this... this... impossible stone idol.
"Thank you for telling me, Pet."
The quiet voice unexpectedly gently stroked her nerves, taut as strings, and the woman flinched. Nothing should affect her! But Severus continued, just as envelopingly soft.
"This was very important. You don't even know how important this was..."
"Your magic won't work on me, I'm protected," she declared, causing him another stupor. "I have my husband's amulet, the one he wore to your goblin bank."
"I wasn't going to influence you in any way, except perhaps to offer a sedative," Snape smirked. "But it's taken exclusively voluntarily. Otherwise it's easy to end up in the next world. And why did your face change? You could choke, I meant."
"And... your voice?"
"What?" his eyebrows formed a neat house shape, transforming and strangely rejuvenating his face. "Voice is voice, what did you find special about it?"
It seems he was genuinely surprised...
"All right. Explain why it's important?"
It was her turn to listen...
"Now do you understand that relying on me as a guardian in the magical world is impossible and even dangerous for the boy?"
Petunia sighed.
"But who can we turn to? Is there really no one left?.."
"Of decent people, that is, wizards? Alas, Petunia, alas. I could look, but I don't have a particularly wide and, let's say, quite specific circle of acquaintances."
"What about apprenticeship? After all, it's... how is it with you? A master has the right to protect the apprentice and his interests?"
"Yes, that's all true, but... your nephew has too outstanding abilities. I, as a teacher, am not enough for him. And to cut off possibilities... I don't want to. I'm afraid we simply have no one to recommend. There are no adult wizards with such a complex of abilities. Harry is unique."
For Snape to admit that he can't do something? And to whom—to her, Muggle Petunia Dursley?!
"I don't see a better teacher for him than you, Severus," the woman suddenly said with complete confidence. "Especially now. I still did the right thing by turning to you. You won't abandon Harry. In any case. Isn't that right?"
"Pet, you... when was the last time you saw a doctor?"
"What, do I look that bad?"
"Merlin... God bless you, you look very good, I'm worried about what you're saying!"
"Severus, I don't know if my sister told you that many in our family had heightened intuition. No? Well, then I've told you."
"You've really given me a day of surprises today... However, it's not evening yet, am I understanding correctly?"
"Severus, what can we oppose to your people, if suddenly?.. 'The Bulldog'?"
"What are you talking about? But... wait, you're right, you need to be protected. I'll deal with this within a week, will that do?"
Petunia nodded.
"And still, what bulldogs? You and Lily didn't particularly like dogs, did you?"
Petunia Dursley smiled predatorily, and for the first time in his life, the deeply surprised Severus Snape was scheduled for a meeting at a shooting club...