The more he pondered the child and what he had observed, his rage at the Dursleys was subsumed only by the realization that Dumbledore must have known. Hadn't he said there were people watching the boy and reporting back to him? Who were these watchers? Severus wondered. And how many of them could he strangle before he was sent to Azkaban?
He and his new employer were going to have serious words on this issue, and if the Headmaster's answers were unsatisfactory . . . well. He would decide what to do at that juncture, but his relationship with Dumbledore would be severely impacted, at the least.
The boy had not asked where he was and had expressed little interest in his surroundings at all, beyond what cup or glass was offered to him, and Dappin's sudden appearance. Such apathy worried him, if he were to be perfectly honest. Was the boy still in shock? Or were his reactions symptomatic of scarring, more severe than Severus would be able to handle?
He was out of his depth, either way.
Now that the worst of Harry's injuries were healed, he should move the boy to Hogwarts, assuming his conversation with Dumbledore went at all well. Then Madam Pomfrey could deal with him, and the Headmaster could offer his sage advice, if any, and Severus could get back to work setting up for his first term as a professor.
Perhaps.
After instructing Dappin to keep an eye on the boy, Severus cast a charm to alert him in case Harry woke, and headed downstairs to the sitting room to floo call Albus.
----
TBC
A/N: Happy Book Seven Release, y'all! The next chapter of "Whelp" will be a few days in the making, while I indulge myself in reading Deathly Hallows. Have a great weekend, and thank you to everyone who reads and reviews! We're almost at a hundred, which is very, very cool.
*Chapter 7*: Chapter 7
Whelp -- Chapter 7
By jharad17
A/N: Wow, we hit 100 reviews! Way cool! I guess you guys deserve another chapter, like really quick, huh? Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews; you make this all worthwhile.
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.
----------
"Albus! A word!" Severus yelled through the green firelight in his hearth. He rose and paced before the fireplace, impatient and growing more irritated by the second. The minute or so before the Headmaster responded crawled by. He was about to shout again when Dumbledore's head appeared in the flames.
"Severus? I had not realized you were at home."
"I hadn't planned on the trip." Severus paused, crossed his arms over his chest, and glared. "I went on your little job."
"Ah." The wrinkles in Dumbledore's face deepened as he frowned. "Was there a problem?"
Severus clenched his jaw. "You might say that."
"Shall I come through?"
"Yes, do. You recall the password, I assume?"
"Of course."
Severus stepped back and waited for Dumbledore to exit the grate. A few moments later, the Headmaster emerged wearing lurid purple robes festooned with green moons and stars that sparkled brightly. Severus was almost certain he heard the faint twinkle of music emanating from them, and he was certain that the Headmaster wore mismatched socks. He'd have to get some for the old codger for Christmas. If they were still on speaking terms.
After wandlessly waving away the little soot that clung to his robes, Albus looked Severus up and down. "You have blood on your clothes," he said, his tone rather subdued.
"Indeed." With effort, Severus unclenched his jaw. "It's not mine, but the boy's."
Albus stared at him, then sighed softly and sank into one of the two comfortable chairs in front of the hearth. Severus' eyes narrowed. Until that moment, he hadn't been sure. But now . . . Dumbledore had known. At the thought, his stomach twisted. He hadn't wanted to believe it, hadn't wanted to think Albus would leave the golden boy, the Boy Who Lived, in such straits. This was like a stab in the heart--
"It's not what you think," Albus said, cutting through his recriminations, as if he'd read Severus' mind. But he could, of course, have done so. He was a powerful Legilimens.
Taking a slow breath, Severus counted to ten. Then, "Why don't you tell me, Headmaster, how often your watchers report to you."
"We're back to being formal, are we?" Albus peered at him over the half moons of his spectacles. Then he sighed. "Very well. They report as often as necessary."
"Which means?"
"Just that. I hear if there is a problem, or anything out of the ordinary--"
In one quick movement, Severus yanked the chain link collar out of his pocket and thrust it in the Headmaster's face. It was covered with blood and pus and tissue, some old, and some quite new, from when Severus had torn it from the boy's throat. "Tell me, then, Headmaster, would this be considered out of the ordinary, or perfectly normal behavior on the part of those Muggles?"
Albus did not take the collar, but his eyes widened perceptibly. "Where . . . ?" He shook his head as if to deny its existence, but then whispered, "It was on the boy?"
"Yes!" Severus snarled. "I have never seen such--" He struggled to control himself, and his voice came out all the colder for it. "A leash secured him to an outdoors shed. They had him tethered like a dog! The cousin said--" He cut himself off once more, rage swelling inside him. He had to run through several mind-clearing exercises as if he were Occluding, lest he snap again.
When he was calm enough, he continued, "I do not believe it was an isolated incident. But even if it were, these Muggles have not treated him properly in many other ways. Harry is severely undernourished and fearful of being touched. His body was littered with bruises and broken bones, and he does not dare meet my eyes. I would like to know who the hell was watching the boy when all this happened!"
As Severus explained, he watched Albus closely. The Headmaster's face paled and he held up a shaking hand to cover his eyes, but as Severus finished, the hand came down, and there was nothing but eerie calm on his face. "I never thought she would go so far, my boy. You must believe me."
"What? Who do you mean?"
"Lily's sister Petunia. The boy's aunt. I knew she had no love for Lily, nor for the Wizarding world, but she accepted him into her care, took him in to her home. I thought she would grow to love him."
"Looks like she grew to resent him! And you have ignored my question. Did no one ever tell you how those Muggles were treating him? What his condition was?"
With a slow shake of his head, Albus said, "Not as such."
Severus pierced him with a glare he'd used to great effect on subordinates in the past, when he'd easily reduced them to tears. "What did they say?" he bit out.
"Does it matter now?"
"It does to me."
Albus peered at him again and his hands tented together at his chest as he leaned back in his chair. "What is your intention, Severus?"
"Towards the boy, or with regards to my future employment?"
"Truly, Severus? You would let this impact your decision to join the staff at Hogwarts?"
"This!?" Severus shouted. "The Boy-Who-Bloody-Lived, chained up, beaten and nearly starved to death, and you wonder if I can let this impact me?"