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Uncle Bobby

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A/N: I own nothing. Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling, Supernatural is owned by Eric Kripke. No copyright infringement is intended, I just want to play in their sandboxes for a little while. Not canon compliant, starts before book 1 and before season 1. Sequel to Letters to Bobby.




He looked around quickly to see if anyone had seen him appear. It seems the goblins were very careful when they made the portkey that took him to Surrey. He looked at the house numbers, searching for the one that he needed, Number 4. All he could see were rows of identical houses with little postage stamp yards. This was no place for any child to grow up, but it was just like his sister.

He stomped his way up to the door, pressing the button for the doorbell harder that he needed to, and waited for her to answer. He wasn't expected, and wasn't expecting a warm welcome, more likely she would call the police. She would give him what he came for though, she wanted that baby even less than she wanted to see her older brother.

A thin, horse faced woman answered the door.

“How nice to see you, Tuney,” he said. “Do you mind inviting me in while you get Harry's things together for me?”

At his first words, she looked like she was going to object, but his last words changed her mind. “Are you taking the little freak?” she asked, a sour look on her face.

“Harry will be coming with me, Lily sent me a letter, and asked me to make sure that you didn't get custody of her son.” he said, then paused. “She didn't think that you were capable of loving and caring for him the way she wanted.

She narrowed her eyes at him, “I don't want the little freak, but Dumbledore didn't give me any choice. He left him on the doorstep with a note.”

Bobby cleared his throat, “Where is Harry, Petunia?”

She jerked her head toward the cupboard under the stairs. “He's in there. We have our own child to take care of, and he was just dropped on our doorstep, the worthless little freak.”

Bobby stormed over to the small door and pulled it open. Inside a dark haired baby lay on a small mattress. His clothes were filthy, and it was clear that his diaper had not been changed all day. “Petunia, you've had him for almost a week, and in that small amount of time, he's not been cared for at all, has he?” he growled. He reached into the cupboard and lifted the small child.
“It's alright Harry, Uncle Bobby's got you. You're going to come home with me, and never set foot in this place again. Your mother would have never wanted you to be here.” He set the baby against his chest and stepped back into the living room.
“I want a clean diaper, and clean clothes for him right now Petunia. And you can make a bottle up for him, god only knows how long it's been since you've fed him.”

He quickly took off the filthy clothing that the small boy was wearing, staring at his sister. “Tuney, now!” he told her. She rushed out of the room, heading up the stairs. A few minutes later she came down carrying a tubby child on her hip and a t-shirt and diaper in the other hand.

“Here, this is all I'm giving him.” she told him, handing him the diaper and t-shirt. “If you want him fed, do it yourself. I have my Duddykins to take care of.”

He looked at the large child, “Tuney, if you keep feeding him, he's going to explode one day.”

He quickly changed Harry's diaper and put the clean, but too large t-shirt on his small body. “Harry and I will leave from here, if you don't mind.” he told her, then pulled a bag out of his pocket. He gripped Harry tight and touched his and Harry's hands to the book that was sticking out of the bag. With a pop, they were gone.