by Rosie
Summary: Only threes years after Dumbledore took Harry to the Dursley's he had suffered greatly under the hands of his Uncle. Concerned for the safety Dumbledore travels to Surrey to find more then he expected
AN: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, not me sadly.
Sighing, Dumbledore rubbed his wearily eyes and lent back in his chair. Arabella's letter had been deeply concerning. Only three years since that night his long drawn out plan was put into place it was already beginning to fall apart.
Yes, of course he had sent letters, warning if the current situation did not approve action would be taken, but alas his words did not seem to have any affect upon her family.
Petunia Dursley was not a dim woman, nor was her husband Vernon come to that, but he sure could scare the living daylights out of his nephew along with making the toddlers life a misery. As dim and deaf to Dumbledore's words Petunia appeared to be she knew not to argue with Vernon especially when he was in a particular aggressive mood, like the one Arabella had witnessed, the Dursely's small boy watching on with a hungrily look upon his face, desperate to join in.
Caught up in nets of abuse from his mothers sister little Harry Potter – a very special boy, though presently he did not know it wept silently throughout his punishments that he had not rightfully earned.
He was after all only three years old, struggling to stand upon his thin little legs and grasp the human language; completely ignored by the adults, who in a normal family would support and encourage him, but not in that household, there was too much bitterness between the Dursley's and their nephew.
Again Dumbledore sighed, rose from his chair and paced around his office lost in thought. Many floors below him he could hear the pupils of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry making their way to an early breakfast. The castle all around him were waking including the portraits in his office. Many were watching him pace, understanding the importance to remaining quite while the present headmaster contemplated on the question on hand, no matter how difficult it may be to ask what troubled him.
Fawkes the phoenix made a soft cooing noise from his perch and Dumbledore absent mildly stroked his warm plumage while muttered quietly to the bird: "I think it's time for a more physical reminder" he whispered finally after much thought.
Stroking his phoenix one last time the Headmaster turned, entered his quarters to being to put his once well thought out plan back onto track.
Dumbledore departed Hogwarts just before lunch, avoiding the questioning looks from the students, but not before explaining to his staff the reasons for his departure. As he expected McGonagall shot him a 'I told you this might happen' sort of look and Hagrid opened his mouth as if he was about to ask to accompany the Headmaster but did not ask the question.
Sweeping across the school grounds towards Hogsmead Dumbledore lightly touched two of the items he carried in his pockets; one his wand thought be hoped he would not have to use it, and secondly a letter addressed to the Surrey City Council in the unlikely event that the Dursley's do nothing but allow the foul treatment to continue, Dumbledore would be left with no other choice then to put the boy into care.
Why not into a safe wizardly family? Some would ask, but three years was a very short time, Death Eaters were still being caught and sentence regularly, to put Harry into the hands of a wizardly family could spell certain death, or a life time of spoils and questioning. Not to mention the ancient magic that currently protected the boy, this was the best protecting Dumbledore could offer him at present.
What would he do if he had to take Harry away?
Secretly as the Headmaster prepared to Disaparete he hoped it couldn't come to that.
With a soft pop Dumbledore arrive in the shadows of an oak tree and glanced around finding his bearings. With a twitch of his long silver beard and a twirl of the walking cane he had dressed his suite with he walking purposefully along Privet Drive, knocking firmly upon number four.
His timing was right on the money: Dudley was at a Playschool just round the corner where a lunch was provided for him and Mr. Dursley was at work leaving just Harry and –
The front door opened to reveal a thin, tall blonde woman who's bright eyes flashed at the sight of Dumbledore, automatically she: "Sorry, I'm not interested," and began to shut the door, but Dumbledore expected no less and forced the door to remain open with his foot, his eyes looking into the kitchen over Mrs. Dursley's shoulder.
He smiled politely as Mrs. Dursley continued to try and close the door on his foot: "I'm not here to sell you anything other then advice Petunia"
The use of her christen stopped Mrs. Dursley in her tracks and she stopped attempting to close the door immediately her blue eyes suddenly fearful.
"How did you –" she began.
"There are many things I know about you and your family, but at present I am more concerned about Harry" Dumbledore pressed.
Mrs. Dursley paused, her mind clearly working what to do next with this man, after all she pretend she had no sister let alone a nephew.
Still grasping how this stranger knew her and the name of the other little boy that lived here Dumbledore seized the opportunity to admit himself into the house.
As he expected Mrs. Dursley did not protest but stood dumbly coming alive once the front door had closed.
She leapt back suddenly, clutching her mouth: "You came! All those letters and messages… I thought they were just empty…" he voice trailed off as she backed against the staircase, stumbling upon the bottom step her face white with fear.
"Indeed I sent them, hoping my words would have an affect upon the treatment of the boy, but I can see it made no difference" Dumbledore could now see clearly into the empty kitchen and was disappointed to see the highchair empty alongside the sparkling clean table.
Mrs. Dursley trembled when Dumbledore asked in a firm, commanding almost angry tone: "Where is Harry?"
With a shaking hand she pointed, her voice quite unable to make a sound to the staircase behind her, but neither up or down but straight across to the cupboard under the stairs.
Quickly Dumbledore moved round the banister and placed his hand upon the door catch noticing dumbly the door was locked, he braced himself for what may met him.
With held breath he pulled open the door and peered into the darkness.
The dark dusty cupboard under the stair was no place for a child to sleep; Dumbledore noted eyeing up the mass of cobwebs and spiders scurrying out of sight. The space was bear apart from a bundle of cloth complete with a small pillow shaking in the furthest corner. Dumbledore knelt inside and gently touched the shaking bundle which jerked to escape his hand, only then could Dumbledore smell the boys fear and scents of dried blood and human waste.
This was his place of sanctuary where he could escape from the criticising eyes of his aunt and uncle, and his retreat from the abuse he received. Again Dumbledore reached out and cradled the bundle pulling it closer, the small child inside lay still expected the worse to happen.
Beyond Dumbledore's shoulder Petunia made no sound but watching in horror and regret as Dumbledore unwrapped the small bundle to reveal a beaten, bruised and terrified small child with jet black hair.
Little Harry turned his face away and raised his small welted arms to protect himself, Dumbledore soothed him whispering in his ear something Petunia could not understand, but realised by the rush of warm air around her Dumbledore was casting a spell.
She cried suddenly almost breaking Dumbledore's connection with the child: "Stop that this instance, I will not tolerant it in my house!"
Rising to his feet Dumbledore said sternly: "If you will not tolerant it you should have thought twice before allowing your husband take such a stand. Surely you knew no good would become of it?"
Mrs. Dursley said nothing but could watching on in horror as Dumbledore placed little Harry upon the kitchen table and drew out his wand.
Already in his presence little Harry had become more alert and confident attempting to grasp Dumbledore's wand, oblivious to the sustained injuries the man in front of him was staring at. Flicking his wand, speaking only in whispers Dumbledore saw the purple bruises lighten upon the toddlers pale body, his pale skin stretch over the many cuts and scars across his body, healing them.
Finally after the Headmaster was satisfied he had seen to the boys hurts he conjured a cup of juice and handed it to Harry before turning to Petunia who had steeped back, hugging the doorframe in terror.
Looking into her terrified eyes Dumbledore's anger subsided, and then left him when he looked more closely at her. Like little Harry she too had the tale-tell signs of abuse by the hand of her husband.
Softly he said: "I can see I was wrong to judge you, and I am sorry if I seemed harsh. I was not aware of the activates in the household."
Petunia seemed to quake and shrink further into herself.
"How long has this been happening?" Dumbledore asked taking half a step towards her.
She did not answer but began to shake.
"How long has he been hurting you?" Dumbledore asked again, very softly and gently.
Petunia gulped, and hid her face in her hands, sobbing: "S-since he was m-made the Manger at w-work. He is always up t-tight and can't unwind." She said through her tears, "He b-brings his work home with h-him and can't seem to switch off. I'm just a-afraid he'll do something to D-Dudley next!" she howled.
Quickly Dumbledore stepped toward her and embraced her. She cried steadily upon his shoulder, great sobs shaking her body.
This was certainly something Dumbledore was not expecting. Now he faced a new problem, which if not fixed would only escalate and worsen. As Petunia and already pointed out she feared her son being the next victim of her abusive husband.
"You say this has only been happening since he became the Company Manger?" Dumbledore asked.
Petunia nodded still crying on his shoulder.
"Before then, nothing like this had happened?"
Petunia raised her tearful face from his shoulder and sniffed. "H-he sometimes shouted and s-stomped around the house b-but nothing like this"
Dumbledore nodded sympathetically.
"Is there s-something you can d-do?" she asked.
"There might be," Dumbledore answered carefully. "But you must make a promise in turn."
Petunia nodded, guessing already what it maybe.
"Good. It seems to me Vernon needs an outlet for his anger and aggression" Dumbledore began to pace the kitchen with little Harry watching him, still drinking from the cup which kept refilling itself.
"Does he have a hobby?" Dumbledore asked.
Petunia shook her head: "Of course he likes watching sport on the TV but does not belong to a team or does anything worthwhile with his time."
"What type of sport does he watch the most?"
Petunia shrugged, "He'll watch nearly everything, but mostly its football or golf"
"Good, good. Golf would be suitable for a man of his calibre don't you think?" Dumbledore stopped pacing, and watched Harry shaking the cup, the refilling juice sloshing inside.
Dumbledore took his wand out from his pocket, and with a slow flick of his wrist a small glowing shape materialize slowing becoming brighter and brighter. Then just when it became too bright to look at, the light faded revealing a small glass bottle filled with a clear liquid.
Dumbledore picked up the bottle from the tabletop and handed it to Petunia, cupping her hands in his own.
"This potion is colourless and tasteless, just add a few drops of this into Vernon's evening drink for the next two weeks, and he will be obsessed with everything golf" Dumbledore whispered. "He will enjoy the sport so much; he'll join a club and play regularly, venting his anger and frustrations onto the sport not on you and the family"
"How can I trust you? How do I know this won't poison him?" Petunia asked.
Dumbledore merely smiled: "If I wished to harm your husband I would do it face to face, not through another method."
The answer seemed to suffice her for she drew her hands from his and stared at the small bottle. "You're sure this will work?"
"You have my word," Dumbledore nodded. "All you have to do is follow the instructions I gave to and stick to your promise"
"My promise of what?" Petunia asked her eyes drying at the thought.
"Of ensuring Harry is no longer mistreated, and he his bought up fairly, as your own son."
It took several second for Petunia to answer, understand just how hard Dumbledore's promise was going to be to keep. But if this potion worked, Vernon would be a manageable man, no longer abusive and intimidating. At the end of the day no one deserved to be treated as badly as the child had already been done, so surly the only way forward was to improve his quality of life, not matter how hard it may look to be, it was only fair.
Fair considering what would happen now with Vernon being less aggressive to everybody; the house could at last live in peace and harmony. A fair price indeed, she thought.
"I cannot make any miracles that he will be treated just like Dudley, but I will endeavour for things to be better for him" she said at length.
"That then is better then the present," Dumbledore said returning to Harry who now was being to look sleepy. He tapped the cup with his wand, causing it to disappear and he scoped up the tired child.
In four strides he had reached the cupboard, and with another wave of his wand the small space became, light, clean, airily and quite liveable. With another wave of his wand a comfy cot appeared, complete with bed linen and soft toys. With a sad smile Dumbledore lowered the sleeping baby into the cot, tucked him in and softly closed the door.
Dumbledore turned to Petunia, and inclined his head: "Until we met again, and remember your promise."
With a pop the Headmaster of Hogwarts of Witchcraft and Wizardly was gone.
Petunia carefully opened the door of the under stair cupboard and stared at the sleeping baby with a great sadness. Already at the age of three he had suffered so much, first the death of his parents, the earning of his scar, the ongoing attempts to find him in the Magical world, and the heavy hand of his uncle. She remembered well the letter they had received that day explaining everything and stressing the most important message that no matter what Harry was to live with them at number four for his own protection until the day came when he could leave.
She forced herself to believe that she only needed to keep her promise for several years until he was old enough to go to school, then old enough to leave the house as a young adult.
Closing the door gently she went into the kitchen and hid the little bottle of potion, not knowing how difficult keeping her promise would be the older Harry grew.
END