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The Headmaster was continuing, "And he is living with his relatives, Lily's Muggle sister, her husband and their son." Dumbledore paused again. "Do you know them?"

"Barely," Severus admitted, though he knew Lily slightly from when they were all children. He had not cared for her then, and he was certain the feeling was mutual. "I don't believe they were suited to our world."

"No, quite right, quite right. It's all well, though, for I have in place a couple of the Old Crowd who keep an eye out for any suspicious activity in the neighborhood. They let me know how the boy is faring."

"This is all very interesting," Severus said with a sneer, and tented his hands before his face. "But do you think we might get to the 'one little thing' you ask of me?"

"Yes, yes, of course." Dumbledore took up a piece of candy from the perpetually filled dish on his desk and sucked on it a moment. Severus had already declined a piece. "Every summer, the watchers I have in place are not available for a week or two, sometimes longer. I ask only that the current junior staff member checks up on Harry, to make sure the wards I set in place are active, and that he is well."

"You want me to check on Harry Potter."

"Yes."

"And make sure he is well."

"Yes." Dumbledore gave him a warm smile.

Severus did not return it. He sighed instead, not bothering to hide his annoyance. "And what shall I do, say, if he is not 'well' or the wards have been breached?"

"I leave that to your discretion, my boy."

"Very well," he said with another dramatic sigh. "When is this gap in the boy's guard duty due to commence?"

"Tomorrow." At the younger man's expression, he continued hastily, "You shouldn't need to check on him every day, Severus. Once or twice a week should suffice."

"Not a great deal of notice, even so."

"I understand. By the end of the week, though. Please."

Severus had not seen the child since he was more than a babe in arms, hadn't wanted to. The stab of jealousy on their first brief encounters, when he'd taken in the shock of James' black hair over Lily's wondrous green eyes, had been almost more than he could bear. It should have been his child. He should have been with Lily, not that . . . that arrogant, prancing fool! He reined in his temper automatically, and gave Albus a short nod. "Of course. I'll see him by the end of the week."

--HPHPHPHPHPHPHP--

TBC . . .

*Chapter 4*: Chapter 4

Whelp -- Chapter 4

By jharad17

A/N: Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers! You guys are so cool I wrote really quickly so you could have another chapter! And a fairly long one, too.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I make no money from this. The characters belong to J. K. Rowling. I only borrow them for a brief while.

--HPHPHPHPHPHPHP--

What with one thing and another -- settling into his new rooms, setting up his potions lab and working out the details of duties he was to split with other professors and Heads of House -- Severus didn't get a chance to go to Surrey to check on Harry Potter until Saturday afternoon. Which was, he reflected as he prepared for the trip into a Muggle neighborhood, technically the end of the week in which Dumbledore had first laid the chore upon him. So he was keeping to the letter of the promise, if not the spirit; it wasn't the first time he'd done so, and was unlikely to be the last.

If he was going to be completely truthful with himself -- and why shouldn't he? Especially if he wouldn't be, with anyone else -- he was not looking forward to this trip for a number of reasons. First of all, he was annoyed simply to have to do it. He'd much rather be straightening shelves of mugwort and gillyweed and putting cauldrons in order than parading all over some suburban sprawl, in Muggle clothes no less! He brushed his long fingered hands down the front of the light oxford cloth shirt, gray vest, and gray trousers he kept for just such occasions, pulling non-existent bits of lint from the material with a scowl. And then there was Lily's family. He'd only met Petunia once since they were children, which was far more than enough. She was the worst sort of Muggle: brutish, dull-witted and patronizing. How he hated that.

Foremost on his list of distasteful items on this assignment, however, was the boy himself. Even if his aunt's stifling posture had prevented her from pampering the brat for six years and making a spoilt pimple out of him, he was still James Potter's son, and thus worthy of a bit of reviling all on his own.

Severus sighed and took up a walking stick to hide his wand-- Primped like Lucius bloody Malfoy, now! -- and made his way out of Hogwarts far enough that he could Apparate directly to the Muggle neighborhood where Potter lived.

The late afternoon sun was low in the sky when he arrived at Number 4 Privet Drive and rapped smartly on the front door. While he waited to be admitted, he took in the rest of the development, the identical hedges and drives, and even window dressings, for Merlin's sake. The automobiles, too, seemed to exist in only one or two models.

Few people were about in the still rather oppressive heat. On the other side of the road, however, three children peddled identical bicycles down the sidewalk. He wondered briefly if any of them were Potter. But no, two were blond and larger than seven years warranted, at least to his unpracticed eye. The third was a red head.

The boys closed in on him, having pedaled across the narrow street, and bellowed at him when he rapped on the door again. "Not home!" the biggest of the three boys shouted as he pulled to a stop on the front lawn, dragging the tops of his shoes rather than applying brakes. His fat face was sweaty and bright red with exertion. "They've gone to the shops."

Severus drew himself up, the better to look down his nose at this sorry excuse for a boy. Rolls of pale pink skin fell over the top of the boy's short-pants, which clung tightly to huge, flabby thighs. He couldn't make out knuckles on the meaty hands that clutched at the handlebars of the bicycle. "Indeed? You seem to know so much about them. Perhaps you might advise me on when they will return."

The whale of a boy scrunched his face up. Obviously, the process of thinking caused him pain. "They're meant to bring home ice cream, aren't they?" he said, and his two hulking compatriots nodded eagerly. "And that new cartridge for my Gameboy."

Severus sighed. "Are they your parents then?"

The boy nodded. "I'm Dudley," he said, importantly. "Dudley Dursley."

"And what of your cousin? Is he out with them as well?"

One of the other boys sniggered. "You mean the dog?" Dudley punched him on the arm, and the boy subsided.

"I beg your pardon?" Severus was tired and had not wanted to be here in the first place. The sooner he got his answers, the sooner he could leave.

The redhead, a rat faced boy, was smirking. "Dudders, you hear him? He said--"

"Shut it, Piers," Dudley growled. "He's not my cousin."

"Be quiet!" Severus snapped. All three heads swiveled toward him, mouths moving like fish. "Dudley, is it? Is Harry Potter at your home right now?"

Dudley's face twisted into something sly and ugly. "No. My Dad says he's not allowed."

Not allowed? What in the nine circles of hells did that mean? The boy was seven years old. Gathering all of his admittedly short supply of patience, Severus lowered his voice to its softest, silkiest tones, the one he reserved for those upon whom he wanted to perform the most excruciating of curses. "Tell me where the boy is."

Though he was obviously taken aback, Dudley glared his friends into silence when one of them appeared about to answer, and the two of them shrugged and looked at their shoes. Dudley looked at the sky.