8

Chapter Eight – Chasing Shadows

Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts,

then Privet Drive, Little Whinging

Monday 18th January 1982

"Headmaster?" the voice came through the Floo in Albus Dumbledore's office. "Are you there?"

"Arabella, my dear?" Dumbledore replied. "Please. Come on through."

The fireplace flashed with a green light and Arabella Figg stepped into the Headmaster's office.

"Have a seat, my dear," Dumbledore offered, as he resumed his own seat behind his desk, "and tell me what the problem is. I do hope young Harry is okay?"

He glanced across the room to a silver trinket on one of his multitudinous shelves, which was rotating slowly and emitting a gentle puff of white smoke every few minutes. Unknown to everybody else, this strange device tracked the health of Harry Potter, and from what Dumbledore could tell it was acting as it had always done, other than for a brief period the previous Hallowe'en, suggesting that there was no need for him to panic.

"I wouldn't know, Albus," Figg told him. "I haven't been able to find him."

Dumbledore stared at her.

"What do you mean?"

"Well he isn't at the Dursleys' as far as I can tell."

"Surely you're mistaken, Arabella. Start from the beginning."

Figg puffed her cheeks out and began her story. At Dumbledore's request she had agreed to move to Little Whinging in Surrey to try and befriend the Dursleys and keep an eye on Harry Potter. Dumbledore had made the arrangements with her a couple of days after leaving Harry with his Aunt and Uncle, but it had taken a month or so before a property came up for sale in the neighbourhood, on nearby Wisteria Walk.

By then it had nearly been Christmas, and although Figg had managed to introduce herself to Petunia Dursley over the holiday period, it hadn't been until just the previous day that she had managed to ingratiate herself sufficiently to warrant an invitation to tea.

It had quickly become clear to Figg that there was no Harry Potter living at Number Four Privet Drive with his Aunt and Uncle. When the small talk had turned to other family, Petunia had mentioned that her sister and brother-in-law had recently been killed in some tragic accident, but had implied that the nephew hadn't come to her but must have been picked up by other relatives.

"You're sure that Petunia wasn't lying?" Dumbledore asked intently. "There weren't any signs of a young boy around the house?"

"Oh there were plenty of signs of a young boy, Albus, but only her own little monster Dudley. There certainly wasn't a second child. She showed me around the house, and there was only the one child's bedroom – clearly Dudley's. The only place that could have housed a little boy that wasn't visible was the cupboard under the stairs, but I can't imagine that even Petunia Dursley would stoop to keeping a child in there when they had two spare bedrooms. In any case, two young boys could have shared a room, and there was no sign of anyone other than Dudley."

He swore under his breath.

"Something's not right, Arabella. That was where I left him."

"Well what did Petunia say when you left the poor child with her? Surely she must have given some indication of her reaction to having a second boy foisted off onto her?"

"I left a note."

"What? Are you utterly insane, Albus? You left a child on someone's doorstep with just a note? Anyone could have come along and taken him away! Didn't you even check to see if Petunia would take him in?"

"She's his family, Arabella. Of course she would take him in."

Figg looked at him like she didn't know him.

"Never mind that now, though," he continued, "we must find out where Harry Potter is and make sure he is safely returned to his Aunt."

One trip through the Floo later and a short walk around the corner from Wisteria Walk to Privet Drive saw Dumbledore at the door of Number Four.

"May I come in, Petunia?" Dumbledore asked when the lady of the house answered the doorbell.

She looked him up and down with disdain at his robes.

"I suppose you must," she replied snootily. "Certainly that's better than you standing on the doorstep dressed like that."

She led the way into the sitting-room, where Dudley was playing with a set of Matchbox cars on the carpet. She picked Dudley up, much to his disapproval, and he shouted and screamed all the way into the kitchen, until Petunia plonked him safely into his high chair and gave him a bowl of toffees to chew on and keep him quiet.

"What do you want?" she asked bluntly, once Dumbledore was settled into Vernon's favourite arm chair.

"I want to know where Harry is?"

"You mean Lily's son?" she snorted. "I hardly think he would be here."

He could sense she was dissembling, but not quite how or why.

"You have seen him since I left him with you?"

"I hardly call leaving him on the doorstep in the middle of the night 'leaving him with me'!" Petunia snarled. "He could have been stolen away by anyone. He could have wandered off and never been found. He could have frozen to death!

"You've no call to be coming around here and asking after his welfare after a stunt like that!"

He could tell she wasn't quite as outraged as she appeared, but it was clear that she was angry with him nevertheless.

"What have you done with him, Petunia?" he asked, growing slightly more concerned.

"What business is it of yours? You clearly didn't want him."

"I wanted him to grow up with his family."

"Really? I must have completely forgotten about the day when you came round and explained to Vernon and I about how Lily had gotten herself killed and that her son had nowhere else to go, and would we be so kind as to take him in, then!"

"Petunia-"

"Oh wait! That's right! I didn't miss it, because it never happened! You just dumped him on the doorstep with a letter insisting we had to care for him! Well we've made sure he was taken care of!"

Dumbledore's heart rate shot up at the implications of Petunia's words, but then remembered the calm rotations of the silver trinket in his office. Whatever Petunia might say, Harry was alive and well, even if he wasn't here.

"So where did you send him? Did you put him up for adoption?" he asked.

Petunia fumbled in her purse for a moment, then pulled out a business card.

"Here," she said, handing it to him. "They said that if you came looking for him that this is who you were supposed to contact."

He looked at the card and frowned. It wasn't from social services or one of the orphanages, but a private address, and a name he wasn't familiar with it graced the front in bold black type.

He would have to look up this Monica Wilkins and see what she knew about Harry's disappearance. He had no recollection of anyone by that name having come through Hogwarts, and the surface legilimancy scan that he performed on Petunia only brought three people up in relation to Harry leaving and being taken in by another family, none of whom he recognised.

"Thank you Petunia," he said as he rose from the chair. "When I return I shall bring Harry back with me to stay with you until he turns eleven and is able to attend Hogwarts."

"Don't bother!" she spat back at him. "We don't want him here, and we don't think you have any right to make us take him in. Vernon and I were firm when he left that it was best that he grew up well away from here."

"Nevertheless, Petunia, he will need to come back here," Dumbledore insisted as he exited the front door, "even if I have to force you to take him back."

DOHPDOHPDOHPDOHPDOHPDOHPDOHPDOHP

Mannings Heath, West Sussex

(still) Monday 18th January 1982

Having been forewarned by a slightly frantic telephone call from Petunia Dursley, Monica Wilkins was prepared for the sudden appearance of Albus Dumbledore at her door. She was slightly less prepared for the abruptness of his manner.

"Where is Harry Potter and why have you removed him from the care of his relatives?" he demanded immediately on her opening the door to his sharp rat-a-tat with the knocker.

She immediately pulled her wand, ensuring it was pointed at her unwelcome visitor.

"Good afternoon," she said sarcastically. "I assume I have the dubious pleasure of the company of Albus Dumbledore?"

"Yes. I don't have time for your games, though, Miss Wilkins. Where is Harry?"

"I'm sorry, Mister Dumbledore. Under what authority are you making this enquiry? And what makes you think I have Harry Potter? Not that it would be any business of yours if I did."

"Miss Wilkins, I am the Chief Wizard of the Wizengamot, and I demand you answer my question-"

"So you are saying that you have no authority to be asking questions of me? That's what I thought."

For the first time, Dumbledore seemed to notice that her wand was trained upon him, and he backed off a little.

"I'm sorry, Miss Wilkins. Perhaps I was a little abrupt. Could I come in where we might discuss this?"

"Certainly, Mister Dumbledore." She stepped back and ushered him into the hallway. "If you would go down to the end of the hall and into the office, I think that would be most comfortable."

She followed him down and into what was essentially her study, wand on him all the way.

When he was seated and had been supplied with tea and cake, Monica finally broached the subject of his visit.

"Now, as I understand it, you seek the whereabouts of young Harry Potter. I'm not sure why you should have such an interest in the young man. After all, he isn't one of your students; nor is he a member of your Wizengamot – at least not until he comes of age and might be permitted to take up the Potter seat. So perhaps you could explain your interest."

Dumbledore frowned slightly at her mention of the Potter seat in the Wizengamot. Who was this witch to be so well informed?

"As I'm sure you are aware, I left young Harry with his maternal Aunt to be raised. So you can imagine how shocked I was that he was no longer there."

"Okay, let's break that down a little, shall we?" Monica said. "What were you doing with Harry in the first place that it fell to you to leave him with Petunia?"

"A friend of mine rescued him from the wreckage of his parents' house in Godric's Hollow and asked me what should be done with the boy."

"Wouldn't normal procedure be for Wizarding Children's Services to take him in and make an appropriate placement through proper family channels?"

"Well, yes, but since Petunia was Harry's only living relative it seemed to make sense for him to go straight there."

"I'm not sure that's true," Monica said with a frown. "Aren't the Blacks related fairly closely to the Potters? Surely there would have been a Magical family that he would have been placed with by WCS?"

"Ah! Possibly!" Dumbledore admitted, "but I'm sure it is better for him to grow up unaware of his renown in the Wizarding World."

"I'm sorry – what renown is that? All of my sources tell me that there were no witnesses to the Dark Lord's attack on the Potters, despite the robust speculation in the Daily Prophet, so how could anyone know what Harry may or may not have subconsciously done that led to his survival? Surely it's more likely that Lily or James Potter cast some kind of protection upon the baby?"

"I'm afraid that's not what the newspapers have concluded," Dumbledore explained, being careful not to give any hint that it was he who had spread the story and seen that it would propagate. "They have dubbed him the Boy-who-Lived, and people are already rising to his celebrity."

"Is that so? In that case I suspect I may have to do something about it in conjunction with his solicitors! We can't have rumour, slander and libel being used as the basis for history, now, can we?

"In any case, I still don't see how you, in any of your roles, would have any say in where Harry should be placed."

"I'm only looking out for the boy's welf-"

"Really?" she interrupted. "You seem rather more concerned about how he might grow up and perhaps develop an ego than you were over his personal safety? Need I remind you that you left him alone and unattended on a doorstep in the middle of a November night without bothering to check whether he would be welcomed by his relatives. Nor did you ensure that he couldn't wake up and roam away, or even be snatched by someone with evil deeds in mind. You really think I can believe you when you say you are looking out for Harry's welfare?"

"I'm sure he was fine-"

"And I'm sure that you're very lucky that he turned out to be fine, and not frozen to death, run over by a car or abducted! So far, you've said very little that would convince me that you have any care for Harry at all!"

Dumbledore floundered around for something more to say. He wasn't used to people being prepared to obstruct or defy him, and it was becoming frustrating that he didn't seem to be getting one inch closer to locating Harry Potter while he was engaged in semantics and blame-throwing with this woman.

"Look, Miss Wilkins," he tried to assert, "I'm not sure what you think you were doing removing Harry from his relatives, but he needs to return there, for his safety, if nothing else."

"I'm afraid that you still haven't explained what your interest in Harry is, Mister Dumbledore. Harry's Aunt and Uncle never agreed to take him in to start with, and were more than happy for him to be adopted. I don't see why you should be concerned. He's certainly in a better and more appropriate place now than he would have been with the Dursleys. Petunia was quite adamant that she had no time or capability spare to look after Harry, and Vernon was very unhappy to have a magical child in the house – he hinted at 'beating the magic out of' the poor boy if he manifested any accidental magic as a child."

"I'm sure if I spoke to them that Vernon and Petunia would take him back,"

"And I'm sure that unless you coerced them in some way then they would refuse. And that if you did coerce them and Harry was forced back there then his childhood would be miserable. As it is, he is loved and looked after, and will have appropriate support as and when he has bouts of accidental magic."

"Now see here, young woman. You can't just abduct the child from his rightful guardians-"

"And you'll find that I haven't. Besides, you're the one who abducted him in the first instance. Wasn't he supposed to go to Sirius Black? Or is that the reason why you haven't yet exonerated Black from any role in betraying the Potters or killing Peter Pettigrew - because you're worried that Black would want to bring him up and would do it traditionally? Is that why Black is still safely locked away in Azkaban, when you could testify that he wasn't the Secret Keeper?"

Dumbledore sat there agog at the revelations this woman was making. How could she possibly know all of this? He was sure that he'd kept quiet about casting the Fidelius at the Potters' cottage. He was also sure that nobody else knew that he'd deliberately stayed away from the proceedings around Black so that these questions wouldn't get asked of him. Was this the woman who had been poking around at the Ministry the day that Black had been arrested, trying to get people to talk to her?

"Now, of course, if you were to convince the relevant people that Black should have a trial, and he were to be found innocent, and it should turn out from the Potters' wills that he is the rightful guardian for Harry, then I am perfectly happy to have this conversation with him, on the basis that he might take Harry in, or otherwise state where his ward should live..

"But until that time, or unless you can convince me in some other way, Harry will remain where he is."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, and Monica felt his gentle attempts to probe her mind for Harry's location.

"And don't think you can get the information that way either," she said, causing him to pause his probing. "You might just find out how dangerous I could be, if you do."

"Are you threatening me?"

"If you choose to take it that way, yes. I don't think that defending my own mind necessarily needs a warning, but I'm choosing to give you one, despite your rudeness."

"Very well. If you won't tell me where I can find Harry, will you at least tell me why you've removed him from his Aunt's care?"

"I already have, Mister Dumbledore. I thought I made it plain and clear to you. Harry wasn't wanted by his Aunt. He'd been abandoned there – by you – without even asking if she would be prepared to raise him. She had neither the ability nor desire to treat him properly. She was aghast at the thought of him performing accidental magic in her house, and her husband made a poorly-veiled threat to Harry should he be unable to 'stamp it out of him'.

"If those aren't enough reasons, on their own, then you can hardly claim to have the child's welfare in mind. However, I had other reasons too: Where he is, Harry will have someone to aid him as he learns about his magic, and family who understand that accidental magic is not to be feared. He'll have the opportunity to learn more about his parents and the Wizarding World.

"The only explanation you've given me for wanting him returned to his Aunt is that she is his family. You seem to want him raised unaware of his heritage, but as I've already said, that isn't your decision to make."

"It isn't yours, either"

"Perhaps not, but at least I'm not denying him the opportunity."

"Very well. I can see that I'm not going to get any further with you on this," Dumbledore said as he levered himself to his feet.

"Not without a better explanation. And even then I can't see how Harry would be better off with his Aunt. You've made a very poor case, so far."

"We'll see, I suppose."

Monica worried to herself what the old man's next move might be as she saw him out of the house, and resolved to put as many precautions in place as she could.

DOHPDOHPDOHPDOHPDOHPDOHPDOHPDOHP

Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, Diagon Alley

Saturday 23rd January 1982

It hadn't taken long, Monica reflected, for Dumbledore to act. Having already had to remove several tracking charms from her person and clothes that the old man had apparently applied as he was leaving, it was barely twenty-four hours before she received the telephone call from Remus Lupin asking for a meeting.

She wasn't averse to talking to the werewolf, and appreciated that he was polite enough to arrange a meeting in advance rather than simply turning up on her doorstep as Dumbledore had done, but she was highly suspicious that it was wholly at the behest of the Supreme Mugwump.

Remus had been happy to agree to meet in Diagon Alley, which was a plus on his side, but it remained to be seen whether he would be as dogmatic as Dumbledore on the subject of returning Harry to the Dursleys'.

To be sure, she arrived early to see if there were any likely plants present, but was pleased to find that Fortescue's was more-or-less empty, so she simply ordered a pot of tea and waited.

"Please, take a seat," she offered as Remus arrived. "Monica Wilkins."

They shook hands.

"Have you ordered already?" Remus asked politely.

Monica indicated that she hadn't and they ordered at the counter before settling down at the table.

"So, I am assuming that you were pointed in my direction by Albus Dumbledore," Monica began. "I'm afraid that the discussion I had with him was rather unenlightening, but perhaps we'll be able to get on a little better."

"Yes, that's right," Remus replied. "He seemed rather peeved with you, from what I can gather. I think he hopes that I can persuade you to return Harry to his Aunt."

"I thought that might be the case. He didn't seem to be able to explain why it was that Harry would be better living with his Aunt though, and had no logical response to my explanation of why we removed him."

Monica set out the reasons for taking Harry from the Dursleys, and she could see from Remus's expression that Dumbledore hadn't told him this.

"I don't understand why he is so adamant that Harry return, then," Remus said, somewhat bewildered. "All he would say was that it was best for him to be with his family."

"And I'm afraid that was all I was able to get out of him as well. He seems to play his cards very close to his chest. But I'm afraid that he's deliberately setting Harry up. For example, did you know that Sirius Black wasn't actually the Potters' Secret Keeper? And that Dumbledore knows this, since he's the one who cast the Fidelius?"

"No! That can't be right!"

"Yes, it is. Peter Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper. From what I've been led to believe, he was actually a Death Eater, and led You-know-Who straight to the cottage at Godric's Hollow."

"Surely not! Not Peter! "

"Oh yes. And Dumbledore isn't doing anything to get Black a trial – I suspect that he wants him to stay in Azkaban so that he can't take Harry in."

"Wait! Sirius hasn't had a trial? They sent him straight to Azkaban?"

"Indeed. The Lestranges got a trial. The Carrows got a trial. But not Sirius Black. Everyone simply assumes that he was the Secret Keeper and that he was secretly a Death Eater, and therefore that he betrayed the Potters."

"I can't believe that's right! Surely Dumbledore would have done something about it?"

"You'd think so, if he was truly the man he claims to be, but his sole purpose at the moment seems to be ensuring that nobody in the Wizarding World is able to raise Harry."

"Which is where we came in."

"Indeed."

Remus let out a deep sigh.

"Well I can understand that Lily's sister might not be the best place for Harry, but can you tell me: is he happy and well?"

"Oh, very much so. He's settled in nicely and his new family love him very much. They're able to give him the attention that Petunia would have begrudged."

"Can I see him?"

Monica paused. Introducing additional influences to Harry's life so soon after him moving in with the Grangers hadn't been in her plans, and she didn't want to confuse him. She was also loth to give Dumbledore any clues as to where he was being raised.

"We'll see," she said. "Perhaps when he is a little older. If Black were free and was interested in being involved in Harry's life as his Godfather, then I would be more comfortable letting more people get involved – after all, we're trying to protect him from being sent back to the Dursleys, not to keep him from his family's friends."

"Do you have the right to take these decisions?" Remus asked.

Monica waggled her hand.

"Perhaps not personally, but the Dursleys have officially signed him away for fostering and adoption in the Muggle system, and his new guardians have submitted the necessary documentation for adoption and are fostering him in the interim."

"And yet you took a decision to remove him from their care despite not even knowing the boy? And despite him only being in their house for a week?"

"I can't really go into explanations," Monica hedged. "You know that Petunia was jealous of Lily's acceptance to Hogwarts and was devastated when Dumbledore told her she couldn't go. She's no longer got any logical judgement where magic is concerned, and Vernon is about as staid and stuffy as you can get – even when we went round to talk to them he was already threatening to 'stamp the freakishness out of the boy' if he displayed any accidental magic."

Remus paled at the thought of Vernon taking out his fear of magic on Harry.

"And the family who have taken him in? How well do you know them?" he asked.

"I've known them all my life. They've got a daughter a little older than Harry who is magical, so they know how to respond to any mishaps. They were more than happy to take Harry in and give their daughter a little brother.

"I'm acting on their behalf, and as a go-between between them and Social Services. Everything is likely to become official fairly quickly. Social Services were delighted that someone was willing to take him in so quickly, and were very complimentary in their report on his new home and family, so there are unlikely to be any obstacles on the non-magical side."

"And in the Wizarding World?"

"I would have said that his official guardian there is Black, but I haven't seen the Potters' wills to be able to confirm that. Perhaps, as a known friend, you might go to Gringotts and enquire?"

"I'll see what I can do," Remus promised.

"And obviously whilst he is still considered to be a criminal, there's little point with raising the issue with the Ministry. As far as they are concerned, Dumbledore has Harry safely stashed away, so we don't particularly want to make a fuss about things until we can see Black cleared of charges and free."

"Indeed. I don't suppose you have any idea what happened to Peter, then?"

Monica grimaced internally. This was a minor problem – Pettigrew had vanished off into the sewers in his animagus form after confronting Sirius, and she didn't know how long it had been between that happening and him being adopted by the Weasleys. There was no obvious excuse for her to make enquiries, and doing so would probably only raise suspicions, so she had no suitable way to direct Remus's attention towards The Burrow.

"All I know is that his finger was the only thing found – which seems strange, since if there were absolutely no other remnants, where did the rest of his body go. It's not like the rest of his body would just disappear. Experts have been able to piece together all sorts of clues from bodies that were torn apart by explosions in recent years."

Remus looked at her askance at the thought of sorting through the debris of bodies that would involve, and remembered some of the bombs that the IRA had set off in recent years and nodded his understanding.

"That is odd," he said quietly, and Monica could tell that he had made the connection with Pettigrew's animagus form.

The moment was broken as the waitress brought across their order and they ate in silent companionship.

"Is there anything else I can do to help with Harry?" Remus asked before they left.

"Not at the moment, I don't think. Not directly. In time, I'm going to want people I can trust to help teach Harry what he needs to know about his family and about the Wizarding World – and to make sure that his new family know about it as well. For now, I'm just grateful that you haven't succumbed to Dumbledore's obsession with Harry, and if you can hold him off from pursuing his whereabouts in any way then I think that would be wonderful."

"You really care about him, don't you? Even though you're no relation at all."

"Yes, I do. And I can't really explain that to you right now."

"That's okay. I'm sure there will be plenty of time, some other time."

DOHPDOHPDOHPDOHPDOHPDOHPDOHPDOHP

Mannings Heath, West Sussex

Monday 25th January 1982

'This wasn't what I had in mind,' Severus Snape though to himself as he slipped between the trees around the back on the property on this cold, moonless, rainy night. 'What I am doing here?'

He appreciated what Albus Dumbledore had done for him in recent months when he might have otherwise been brought to trial for activities as a Death Eater and sentenced to Azkaban – he had no great riches with which to bribe his way into a plea of being under the Imperius when he had committed his crimes – but this wasn't what he had in mind when he'd offered to take on any task suited to his abilities.

"I have every faith in your capabilities, dear boy," Dumbledore had told him when he had objected to the job. "I don't like what I'm hearing from Remus's reports about Harry's new family – either this Wilkins woman is leading him down the garden path about the boy's safety or she has managed to subvert him."

Whilst Snape had little respect for Lupin in general, he could at least appreciate that the werewolf possessed a modicum of intelligence. He though it much more likely that Lupin had simply reported back what he had found without much in the way of personal commentary, and had seen through Dumbledore's rather desultory and vague assurances about the Dursleys.

Having known Petunia as a young girl, he didn't doubt that she would continue to be equally petty and unforgiving as an adult, and was extremely likely to be a suitable guardian for a young wizard, just as this Wilkins woman had told the Headmaster was the case.

However much he had hated James Potter and couldn't bear to think that Lily's marriage to him could produce a child worthy of her, he wouldn't have wished any toddler to have had Petunia and her husband inflicted upon him.

If the boy was indeed the subject of the prophecy he had partly heard – and he had a healthy scepticism for Divination at the best of times – it was more likely that the old man had some sort of plan and didn't want anyone else coming up with their own ideas.

"I need you to find the boy and return him to his Aunt and Uncle," the Headmaster had said, " and it seems that Remus isn't up to the task."

Finding Harry Potter had proven much more difficult that Snape had imagined, and probably many times more so than Dumbledore thought it would be.

"I know that you grew up in the Muggle world and have a better idea than I do as to how their children's' services work," the old man had told him. "I'm sure you can find a way to discover where he was placed, officially or otherwise, and can rescue him from his current predicament."

Going through official channels to try and find the child proved fruitless.

"We can't just give out the details of where children have been fostered to anyone, you know," the lady at Social Services had told him. "We have to protect the children. Often-times their parents or former guardians want to try and get back at them from escaping. You'll need to provide details of who you are and why you want to see the child," she'd added, thrusting a paper form into his hand for completion.

Snape had taken one look at the form and dropped it into the bin on his way out. He daren't use an Imperius so soon after the trials, and even a befuddlement charm would have been risky.

Thus, here he was in rural Sussex, casing the residence of Monica Wilkins.

Dumbledore had insisted that she was living almost entirely Muggle, although she was clearly a witch, and from what he could see in and around the property he had to agree. There was little or no trace of magic in the area other than a couple of identification charms around the front door.

He shivered. It had been a mistake to come out on such a miserable night, and his robes were soaked through, even with the impervious charm he had cast before he set out. He recast the spell over himself, but with the feeling of futility that it was too late to do much good.

He slinked up to the back door, narrowly avoiding a pair of recently potted plants that sat on the patio, and listened carefully.

It was past three in the morning. Anyone in the house should be asleep, but he still feared detection.

"Alohamora," he whispered, and heard the gentle snick of the lock as it pulled back. Gently pressing the door handle down and pushing, he slowly pushed the door open, slipped inside, and closed it behind him with equal care.

"Lumos."

The tip of his wand began to glow gently, and as he lifted into the air he could see the outline of the kitchen units, the breakfast table ready-laid for the morning, and the door on the far side of the room. He also suddenly realised that he was dripping rainwater all over the floor, so removed his outer robe and shoes and left them on the mat behind the door.

He walked silently across the kitchen to the door to the rest of the house, left half open. As he crossed the room he observed the Muggle appliances the kitchen was equipped with – no magical stove or cookware here.

In the hallway there were three more internal doors, and at the far end the front door and the stairs to the upper level. One was clearly a cupboard, given its location under the stairs, which left two other rooms to examine.

He pushed open the one nearest the kitchen.

This was what he would describe as a 'study'. A solid desk took up a goodly portion of the room and a comfortable-looking chair accompanied it. On the desk were neatly stacked papers in trays, labelled in a careful hand, and dominating the scene was some form of machine that Snape took to be one of the new 'computers' that was being produced.

This was the most likely place for the information he sought, but he checked the remaining room first. As expected it was the main living room, complete with sofa, armchair, coffee table and television. All very clean and tidy and unlikely to be worth searching.

He returned to the study and sat down at the desk, searching through the papers on its surface, before pulling out the drawers and skimming through the well-filed contents.

'Aha!' he thought, 'this is what I was looking for!'

A thick file clearly labelled 'Harry Potter' in a buff-coloured envelope had caught his attention, and he pulled it out of the drawer and laid it on the desk in front of him to study.

Much of the detail therein seemed petty and redundant. Details of the Potters' deaths – as far as the Muggle world knew – and a carbon under-copy of the form that he had discarded back in Social Services in the town, but only completed with the details for Monica Wilkins. Then, at last, a set of adoption papers in the names of Doug and Helen Granger! This was what he needed!

Engrossed in his search, Severus Snape failed to notice the office door opening behind him.

"Exactly what do you think you are doing here!" came the loud challenge, a booming voice in the silence of the night.

He turned and drew his wand, but was too slow to react, and the bushy-haired lady that stood there in her nightdress already had her own wand at the ready, and the last thing he heard for some time was the simple incantation.

"Stupefy!"