Better Be Slytherin!

through and had done nothing to aid him.

''Cause of the way the letter was addressed,' Harry said, and he moved his chair slightly so he could see the picture Severus had laid out, both of them acting as casual as could be, as if what they were saying meant so very little.

'What way was that?' Severus tilted the picture towards him, just a touch, and when Harry could see it, he smiled, just a touch.

Harry reached to take the picture, and Severus let him. He held it out in front of himself like it was a letter. 'It said, 'To Mr. H. Potter, The Cupboard under the Stairs, 4 Privet Drive,' and all the rest of it. They were real upset.'

'Your aunt and uncle?'

Harry nodded. 'Uncle Vernon took the letter and wouldn't let me have it, even though it was mine. He and Aunt Petunia threw us out of the kitchen, me and Dudley, and they were whispering that maybe 'they' were spying on them, since 'they' knew about my cupboard. That night, he came and visited me in my cupboard, but he'd never done that before.'

'Did your uncle . . . do anything to you?' Severus asked quietly. He would kill the man without qualms, if he had.

Harry laid the picture flat and once again ran his fingers over the edge, as if he could somehow go through to the other side if he wished it hard enough. His expression was rather wistful as he gazed at his mother. Severus knew, could he see his own expression, it might be the same.

Finally, Harry said, 'No. Not really. I mean . . . he told me the letter was addressed to me by mistake, but I said it wasn't, on account of the mention of my cupboard. But he'd burnt it, he said, then told me he thought my cupboard might be getting a bit small, so I should have Dudley's second bedroom now. I asked him why, but I knew . . . I knew they were feeling guilty, really, 'cause you're not supposed to keep kids in cupboards. I just wanted to hear him say it, and that they were sorry. But he didn't. They weren't. He just he yelled at me to be silent, that I wasn't to ask questions, and I should get my stuff up there straight away. So I did.' An odd sort of smile crossed the boy's lips and then was gone just as quickly. 'Dudley was awful mad the next day. Screamed a lot and hit Uncle Vernon with his Smeltings stick, and even made himself sick on purpose, but they wouldn't give him back his second bedroom.'

Ah. Severus recognized the smile now. Schadenfreude. 'So how did you get your letter?' he asked, curious now.

'Hagrid had to bring it to me. Uncle Vernon tried for days to keep them from coming into the house. I got three the day after that first one, and they were addressed to me as being in the smallest bedroom, so the Dursleys were sure someone was spying on them then.' Harry seemed to be warming to the subject, at the same time as he continued to look at the photo of the his mother in the stands at the Quidditch pitch. 'Then Uncle Vernon drove us all over, and finally rowed us out to this little island in the middle of nowhere, where it was stormy and smelt like seaweed, and all we had were some crisps and bananas. And at midnight, right on the minute of when my birthday started -- I could see Dudley's watch, he'd gotten a digital one on his birthday, and it glowed in the dark -- Hagrid came booming through the door.' Harry grinned, shaking his head. 'I'd never seen anyone so huge! He gave Dudley a fright, for certain. Then he gave me my letter, told me I was down for Hogwarts since the day I was born. He brought me a birthday cake he'd baked, too, first one I ever had, and even made sure Dudley didn't eat it all, so I got some.'

Severus nodded. That last bit jibed with what he'd heard about Hagrid's trip to collect the Boy Who Lived after it was close to the deadline to hear back from students, and Potter had not responded to his official Hogwarts acceptance letter. Severus had sneered then, at the foolishness of arrogant little boys who couldn't be bothered to correspond with their betters . . . but he knew better now.

'And so,' Severus said carefully, hopefully, 'they still let you stay in the second bedroom after Hagrid brought you home again?'

'Yeah,' Harry said. 'No more cupboards.'

'Not even for punishment?' he asked softly, glancing at the boy beside him. He had not told Harry he'd overheard him talking to his owl about being locked in the cupboard for a week without food. It would not have surprised him to hear the horrid Muggles had used the threat of it at least.

Harry bit his lip and shook his head. 'Not yet anyway. I mean . . . I think they still think they're being watched.' He pressed his lips together and his face came over all mulish.

'What is it, Harry?' Severus asked gently, though he had a pretty good idea, one which was borne out by Harry's answer.

'Well . . .' A sigh. 'Well, sir, if they were watching, the Headmaster or whoever, I mean, if they did see where I was and how they . . . how the Dursleys treated me and such . . .' He trailed off with another sigh.

'Yes?' Severus wanted Harry to ask the question. The boy needed to ask, needed to validate his own perception that what happened to him was wrong.

'Well, why didn't they ever do anything?! Why'd they leave me to get starved and shoved in that filthy cupboard, and for Dudley to beat me up all the time? If they were watching, why didn't anyone care?'

'You want to know why no one cared that you were being treated poorly,' Severus repeated. 'Why no one from Hogwarts, or the Ministry, came to take you away from such unfit caretakers.'

'I . . .' Harry gulped, and for the first time in two weeks, met his gaze. Severus was startled by the depths of pain in those green eyes, the hurt the boy hid so well and so often, but also by the righteous anger that glittered fiercely within. 'Yes, sir.'

Severus held that hurting, angry boy's gaze and told him as much as he knew. He hoped it was the truth. 'I don't believe anyone was watching, truly. I don't know exactly how the yearly letters are addressed, but I think it's an automatic process. I honestly don't think anyone looks at the addresses of the prospective students, so no one would have known that way that you were living in the cupboard. But that's neither here nor there. You're asking about the last ten years, not just about the letter. I believe, I have to believe that, if Professor Dumbledore knew your circumstances, he would have intervened.'

Harry's eyes narrowed. 'Really?'