Whelp

With a fond smile, Dumbledore continued, 'You will find I ask little in return for your compensation, save a well-run classroom, with well-stuffed student minds, the safety of all the castle's occupants . . . and one other small thing.'

Severus' scowl deepened. Here they came to it at last. This 'one small thing' was likely to be the utter bane of his existence. Well, if it came to be too much, he would refuse. After a pause in which he steeled himself, he said, 'What is it then, Albus?'

'Harry Potter.'

'What?' Severus shook his head, bewildered. 'What are you talking about? What do I have to do with him? He can't be more than six or seven years old now. Not a student.'

'He has just turned seven, Severus, yes.' In truth, Severus knew exactly how old the Potter boy was, could calculate it down to the hour if need be. He'd had to, in the maddening months between his one short encounter with Lily and her subsequent whirlwind marriage to that idiot, James. But no matter how he counted or calculated, the numbers always came up the same. The whelp was James', not his.

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.