A Father's Love

A Father's Love

*

Payback Time

*

Severus glanced around in the room they were in. The house-elves were busy redecorating the unused room into Jeremy's new bedroom. Remus had placed the still sleeping boy on the bed which he'd temporarily shrank from a bigger one until they could get a proper children's bed, making a list of everything they'd need for Jeremy. The boy himself just slept peacefully.

"Molly's Ron is about the same age, she'll surely help us out," the werewolf just mused aloud. "At least she can provide Jeremy with some clothes until we can get him new ones." Right now the boy slept in pyjamas they'd shrunk from Remus's own -- and the filthy, overlarge clothes the boy had worn at Dursleys had been given to the house-elves not to be washed, but to be burned. Their son would not wear them anymore. Neither would he ever go back to those monsters.

Severus was still fuming. The photographs Poppy had taken of Jeremy's injuries and her description about the boy's miserable physical condition might get the Dursleys into a prison. However, no matter how he'd threatened them, not a Muggle could be thrown into the Wizarding prison. The trial would be in a Muggle court, with Muggle -- or Muggleborn -- lawyers, and the possible sentence would be into a Muggle prison.

And, of course, this did not satisfy Severus and his thirst for revenge.

"You're not listening to me," Remus said then, sounding not accusing but almost concerned. "What's bothering you, Severus? Is something wrong with you?"

The Slytherin shook his head. "I was just thinking about how the Dursleys are going to escape Azkaban after all," he said quietly. "They would both deserve a Dementor's Kiss, for Merlin's sake!"

For a moment, Remus watched his husband with his vivid amber eyes. Then he said briefly, "Go."

"What do you mean, 'go?'" Severus asked, a bit startled. "Where should I go?"

"To the Dursleys, obviously," Remus replied, shrugging a bit. "You obviously would prefer your personal revenge to the whatever sentence the Muggle court is going to give them. I'm not on a really forgiving mood right now, either, not after seeing Jeremy's condition, and especially with the whale attacking you." A hard glint entered Remus's eyes as he continued, "I will take care of Jeremy's things. You go and beat them."

"Shall it be as you wish, my Master and Lord," Severus said dryly. "Not that I'd protest much. How much harm am I allowed to do to them?" he asked then, eyeing his husband curiously.

"As long as you don't kill them personally, do anything you want," muttered the werewolf. "Turn them into rats and then give then to some highly suspicious laboratory for guinea pigs. Make them throw up their internal organs and then shove them back inside. Hypnotize them to go to bungee jumping with broken ropes. I'm sure you can think of something, you're a Slytherin, after all."

"Oh, I am indeed sure I can think of something," Severus muttered. And with this, he walked out of their home -- the Snape Manor -- and almost immediately Disapparated.

*

It was late when Severus neared Number Four, Privet Drive. The Muggles still seemed to be home, according to the light shining through the windows. That was good; he wouldn't have to go chasing them. Still, to avoid possible witnesses, he drank an Invisibility Potion before sneaking to the garden.

Knowing that even though Alohomora would have easily got him inside, the door being opened would have alarmed the monsters instantly, Severus started to walk through the house. Soon he found an open window. It was that of a room upstairs, but a drop of Levitation Potion got him there easily. Going through the window, Severus soon found himself in Dudley Dursley's bedroom.

He snorted as he glanced at the fat boy sleeping peacefully in his bed. The little pig was seemingly like his father in every aspect. Glancing around the spacious room that would have been enough for two if not three children, he fumed. There surely were even spare rooms in the house -- and Jeremy had had to sleep in a cupboard, while this ugly pig had this, this hall all to himself?

A boxing bag hung from the ceiling near the sleeping boy's bed, attracting Severus's attention. Another glance told him that it was pretty worn-out -- not from age, though, as it seemed to be almost new, but of constant use. A pair of small boxing gloves lying on the floor below it also looked like they were used frequently. Really, what kind of a person bought a boxing bag to their four-year-old son? And moreover, what kind of a child would play with it so rudely in such a young age?

Suddenly, Severus got an idea. An evil smile curled his lips as he fumbled through the potions bag on his belt, finally finding a phial of a transfiguration potion. Walking to the boxing bag with silent steps so as not to wake the little monster, and cutting a little piece of the bag with the tip of his wand and a quietly murmured spell, he dropped the tiny piece of leather into the phial. Immediately the potion began to bubble, then calmed down, having absorbed the essence of the boxing bag into itself.

The previous one might have been too used, but that was not a reason to worry. Little Dudley would receive a nice new boxing bag to take his feelings out on after his parents' mysterious disappearance. This bag, however, would not wear out, not ever. No matter how much he hit and kicked it, it would still be like new. He had no doubt the boy would have lots of fun with it for a long time to come.

Of course, the boxing bag -- which would in essence be his disappeared father -- would not enjoy it as much as it had done when it'd been on the giving end.

The plan was perfect. Even if the conscious boxing bag ever got to the Ministry's hand and somebody found out its secret, it could not be detected back to him -- he always kept sure not to leave his own imprint in any of the potions he brewed. And Dursley was going to get exactly what he deserved.

Oh, how much fun he would have, knowing that Dursley's brat was beating his own father...

That didn't solve the problem of the woman, however. Turning her into a pair of boxing gloves might have been otherwise sufficient -- after all, it'd been she who got thrown against the bag continuously -- but those would have eventually become too small for the little whale, and then his revenge would have lost its meaning. No, he had to come up with something entirely different.

Putting his hand back to the bag, hoping to find something that would help him decide, his fingers met another familiar phial. Ah, the Brew of Dreams. Yes, this would definitely do.

The Brew of Dreams would, if the drinker possessed the gift of Seeing, make them able to reach the visions and fall into a trance more easily. If they didn't have the gift, it would give some hasty images -- if the drinker was magical. However, if it were a Muggle who drank it, it would cause visions, both true and untrue, that would not cease until the counter-potion was given to the unfortunate Muggle.

Yes, he really thought that Petunia Dursley would enjoy her new life as a madwoman in the streets of some big Muggle city. Wandering along the dark alleys, not knowing what was true and what just illusions, she would be without anybody's help, neglected, hungry, and alone, despised by everyone who saw her. Just like Jeremy had been when he'd supposedly been in the woman's care.

And of course, their son, who would be left an orphan and given to some relative. Severus doubted, however, that he would even miss his parents terribly much. He couldn't, if he was a child of those monsters. And, knowing this, even the little hint of guilt he'd almost felt about orphaning the little, violent Dudley Dursley left him immediately, not returning.

Oh, revenge truly was sweet.