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Severus did not like Muggles or small children, so he was not quite sure why he had found himself watching the toddler sitting in the sand, playing quietly. Perhaps it was the absence of any parents or adults nearby that had made him look twice and approach cautiously. It was strange and unsettling... and it took a certain amount of abnormality to make a former Death Eater think that.
It was not because he did not like anyone that he hated very young children.
His pace quickened noticeably when he made the little boy reach for a small rake out of his reach and the object flew straight into his hand. A Muggle-born. Hopefully, no one had seen him do that.
"Kid, where are your... your..."
He could not finish his sentence, because he recognised that tiny boy. The memory was etched into his mind. He had seen him the last time he had seen his mother.
Harry Potter, in the flesh, staring at him blankly with emerald eyes in which a lack of recognition was obvious. Lily’s eyes in Potter’s face. He had even inheited his stupid glasses.
"What are you doing here?" He whispered, determined to keep the promise he had made to Lily to protect her son for her.
"What do you think you’re doing?" A sharp voice rose sharply behind him, causing him to jump to his feet from where he had been leaning over the child, ready to fight to defend him.
He did not immediately recognise the slender, stern-faced Muggle woman standing before him, but he eventually did, and she recognised him too.
"Snape?"
"Petunia Evans," he blurted out, just as bewildered as she was. "What are you doing here?"
"I moved into my parents’ house a few months ago."
"Really?"
He would have thought she would do anything to escape this place and the memories. He had never liked her as a child, but he had been through so much since then that it all seemed rather trivial now. He could admit that being the sister of a Muggle-born favoured by her parents could make anyone bitter.
But... if he remembered correctly, she had left home to find a work very quickly and had ambitions to marry a stable Muggle. Lily had made a lot of fun of her back then, unable to understand. Sweet Summer Child.
Petunia was not like her: she was realistic and pragmatic, like Severus. Poverty was not glamorous, it did not keep you warm at night. It did not feed your children.
"Where’s your... husband?" He asked, looking around him, confused.
He was almost certain she was married and hoped he was not mistaken, or it would be very awkward.
"We got divorced," the young woman, barely older than him, admitted after a pause, looking away.
Oh... talk about awkward.
"I see."
"My question still stands," Lily’s sister continued, looking annoyed. "What exactly were you doing with my nephew?"
"He’s..."
He was not sure if it was wise to say it: she did not like that sort of thing, after all, and she was clearly his guardian.
"Like Lily and you? I already know that. He does strange things when he’s scared, angry or frustrated."
Classic accidental magic.
"He made an object float. He can’t do that in public, Evans."
"And you think I can stop him?" She scoffed with a derisive smile.
Why did she have to make this difficult?
"It’s dangerous for him and for you."
"Tell me something I don’t know," the Muggle muttered, rolling her eyes. "That bloody magic hasn’t finished ruining my life yet, don’t worry about me, I’m not about to forget it."
Severus pinched his nose, exasperated. She really had a knack for getting under his skin. The wizard-hated Muggle stereotype.
"If the Ministry finds out that people are seeing him perform magic, they’ll come and erase the witnesses’ memories."
"What’s that got to do with me? I’m his guardian, I know all about these things: they won’t make me forget, because I’ll see more of it."
That was not Severus’s point: if other people saw this, Harry might attract unwanted attention because of his supernatural abilities, which would be a problem for Muggles.
"I’m not stupid, Snape, I know full well it mustn’t be noticed," Petunia surprised him with her calm tone as she tidied up the child’s belongings scattered around him before lifting him up. "It’s just that I can’t stop him. There’s no point in getting angry all the time about things we can’t control."
It was true, but this burst of sensible pragmatism was surprising coming from her.
"Goodbye, Snape. I look forward to not seeing you again."
"Likewise," he grumbled, walking away without lingering, hoping he would never run into them in the neighbourhood on the rare occasions he left his house without Apparating straight away.
He had no desire to be involved in any of the trouble those two brought with them.