Hi everyone,
Welcome to this new story on a fandom I wanted to do for soooo long. I had started writing a Fem/Harry fanfiction about three years ago, but my PC had crashed and I lost many works I had started on it.
Now I'm trying it again, especially after the story though a little more. I hope you'll like it.
Helia wished she could know when the Dursleys fell asleep. Until they were, she couldn't try to sneak into the kitchen and raid the fridge. They'll assume Dudley was responsible, as always. However, if Vernon was calming his nerves with a glass of brandy…
Helia shuddered. Her fingers traced the little bumps on her ribs where the man had cracked them the last time she hadn't been normal enough. There were other scars, of course, but they had faded over time. She had always been good at healing. A blessing when Dudley or Vernon were in a mood. They often were in a mood when things ran abnormally around her.
For the vanishing of the glass earlier today? Maybe Vernon will opt for a finger or two. More likely a few glasses. Piers did say she had been talking to the snake, as Dudley pretended the beast tried to bite his leg off. She didn't want to get in his bad side. Yet, she was hungry. Lunch was so far away. Helia knew hunger. It was a punishment the Dursleys seemed to like.
She had lived with the Dursleys since she had been a baby. Left on their doorstep nine years ago with only a letter. She should be grateful she had been accepted in their home. They were nice people who took her in. Helia was sure it was only because the neighbors would have talked. Her parents had died in a car accident. She didn't remember it, because she had been way too young. Sometimes when she thought hard enough, she swore she could see a blinding green light and a burning pain in her scar. She could explain the scar from the crash, but the rest certainly didn't look like car lights. But it wasn't like she could get answers from the Dursleys. They didn't talk about her parents, as if it was taboo. Neither did they keep photographs of them in the house.
Helia cradled her empty stomach. Had they gone to sleep already? She was about to open the door of her cupboard when she heard them coming down the stairs. Vernon's footsteps spattered dust and cobwebs all over her things. She heard him rattle near the front door. It was night, so why was he picking up the mail.
"They sent a letter, didn't they?" Petunia asked.
"You were right. July 1st, midnight exactly. It's proof she's one of them."
She didn't dare breathing, as Vernon started ranting about something. She couldn't hear very well, but it sounded like people trying to get her? What was the meaning of this? And what about the letter? If she looked at the right angle, she could see some brown letter. Not papercraft brown like the ones with the bills, more like… old parchment brown? Strange.
"What should we do? These people might try to show up and ask about the girl. What if they ask questions? What if they want to know about her parents?" he asked.
"Vernon… It's going to be fine. They're from a different world from us."
"There will be no funny business in this house!" he whispered angrily. "Understand?"
Her aunt took perhaps a bit too long to answer, for she heard his heavy footsteps closing on the woman.
"No. Funny. Business."
"Y… yes Vernon."
"Oh, well goodnight dear." He said simply and went upstairs.
It was a while before Helia thought to breathe again. Her stomach was still empty, but she wasn't sure it was safe to go outside. She went nonetheless. Aunt Petunia was way nicer than her husband or her son. She had been the one to try and give shape to her disheveled hair. Well hopefully it had grown back, for the cut was horrid.
She silently tiptoed to the kitchen and slowly opened the pantry. There was an opened box of cookies. That could do the trick. She was retrieving them without a hitch when the light tuned on. Helia almost dropped her prize to the sight of her aunt. The woman looked at her strangely, as if she wasn't seeing her. The girl made a contrite gesture, taking her prize back to its proper place.
"Don't bother… I'll just get another one from downstairs… Just go to bed, please."
Her aunt had this funny look in her eyes, like she was looking through her and not at her. Without another word, Helia crawled back to her cupboard. Her eyes never left her aunt. And right when she closed the door, she noticed suspicious red mark on the woman's right arm. Just like when Vernon….
She focused on her cookies. Cookies were the best.
The beginning of summer holidays marked the end of her cupboard punishment. There was no other mention of any stranger letter. Her aunt had never been that normal. Vernon had never been that satisfied by his job. Dudley had been as careless as ever with his new toys. He'll be attending Smeltings next year, the same private school his father went. Helia was preparing herself to attend the local secondary school: Stonewall High.
Dudley and his friend Piers were parading in their new uniforms. From what she heard, they were quite pricy and made with fine materials. She thought her cousin looked more like a clown than a student. But could she complain? Stonewall High was nowhere that fancy when it came to uniforms. They only asked for a white shirt and a grey long skirt. She had never owned a skirt, but Vernon thought there was no need to spend too much money on her. That was why her aunt was sewing some of her old clothes before dying and/or bleaching them.
The bathroom reeked of chemicals, and Dudley found it incredibly funny to mock her on top of the humiliation. Helia rarely said anything back to him. She was bony, and not much of a sports type, where her cousin was meaty and aware she couldn't get back at him. It was getting worse these days with the Smelting stick he kept banging everywhere.
But the worst in the story was the tension. Something was happening between her aunt and uncle. She had no idea what it was, but she thought there was something about the letter they talked about the other day. It seeped through their relationship, straining it. Vernon made it clear to Helia that she was the one responsible. But he sent Dudley do his bidding, sticks and stones.
The only place she could be safe these days were at Mrs. Figg's. She was fine when you got used to the numerous cats she had. Smart cats, they were, but it made the entire house smell like an old barn. Or maybe it was the smell of cabbages. Everything Mrs. Figg cooked smelled like cabbages, even cakes. But Helia felt better hearing about the cats, and how wonderful that Mirza was about to have cute little babies.
"Everything's alright Helianthemum?" she'd ask when Dudley's gang lurked nearby.
"Everything's great Mrs. Figgs. Perhaps I'll use the back door today."
"You'll enjoy another cup of tea, won't you? And some cake, you look like you're just skin and bones."
She could never refuse, even if she used that horrible birth name. The woman on the Evans family, er mother and her aunt, had flower names. So she did as well.
The old woman was nice enough to keep her, even when Dudley had intentionally made her fall with his bike. Helia wondered what she would have done without her. As she tasted both the tea and cake, she couldn't help but notice the brown envelope on the tea tray. She had seen one like it recently, right? There was a wax seal on the back, and she wondered who would be that old fashioned to send letters with a cachet. The drawing was nice, like a medieval blazon. She was about to reach it when a ball hit the window harshly, making her spill everything on the table.
Oh no! Mrs. Figg would be cross with her if she saw this!
Helia glanced at the football players outside. Dudley and his friends shamelessly grinned at her. She glared back and decided to ignore them. They would tire from this right? They had to at some point. She wasn't ready for another hit and run session. She still had scratches from the bush she hid into last time they chased her around Little Whinging.
"Hum…uh… Mrs. Figg?" she called "I think I ruined your letter…."
"It's all right, dear. The paper has a spell on it, it's spilled-proofed." she replied from another room.
"I'm sorry?"
She looked back at the try. Oddly enough, it seemed that all the tea had dried out without tainting the paper. The specks of cake weren't moist anymore. Helia dusted them off with a brush of her hand. What a remarkable paper!
"Are you done Helianthemum? Or do you need another slice, since the other one went bad?"
"You're not mad about the letter?"
"Oh, dear. It was my fault for leaving my Wombat letter here."
"Your… Wombat letter?"
"It's a group to help newcomers integrate into the wizarding world. You sponsor someone who's not familiar with our culture like people who used to live in the muggle world."
Helia cocked her head to the side. Mrs. Figg was touched, wasn't she? An old bat with cats was sure to be a little lonely sometimes. Maybe she had run into the wrong people? Some sort of group like Jehovah's Witnesses, only with magic. The Dursleys wouldn't like that if they heard.
The old lady must have seen her look, because she frowned. Helia stared in her teacup. Mrs. Figg may be a bit of a looney, but she was nice enough to welcome her inside her home. She felt her cheeks grow hot under the woman's stare.
"You have no idea what I am talking about, don't you girl? It's about time you get your letter, and I've seen enough accidental magic to know the difference between a squib and a witch!"
She didn't know how to answer that. Mrs. Figg was really convinced about her fairy tales or whatnot. Helia started to grow really uncomfortable.
"Great Merlin, this is terrible! I knew these Dursleys were a bit thick, but to think they would tell you nothing. Silly muggles!"
Helia had no idea what a muggle was, but it sounded bad.
"Listen, I have to make a call. Could you wait for a moment? There's people I would like to meet."
Cold sweat ran along Helia's spine. Mrs. Figg was trying to get her into her little cult! Dudley be damned! A day hiding from his gang suddenly sounded like a great idea. So, she nodded to the lady and waited for her to pick up her phone. She'd leave from the backdoor as always. She was ready to sprint out of the room, when the woman stepped towards the fireplace. She picked up a box that she had always thought to be some relative's ashes and threw a handful of its content. Green flames filled the conduit, threatening to burn the lady. Terrorized, Helia watched as her face disappeared in the fire.
"Albus? Do you have someone available? I think the Dursleys need some more convincing." She asked. After a while she added: "She's not received the letter yet." She paused again. "Of course, the muggle postal network functions well. I can receive and send owls myself, but Helia doesn't. I think the muggles took her letters to keep her from us. I talked to her just now and she has no idea where she's coming from."
She kept speaking to herself, her head eaten by the chimney. Helia was certain she was distracted now, and certainly more of a freak that she ever thought. Heh! What would the Dursley think. Slowly, she left the room as Arabella Figg kept yammering about owls and letters that had never reached Little Whinging.
For the first time of her life, Helia fled to the Dursleys. It was only two streets away, and she had gotten better at running because of Dudley's gang. She considered going inside the cupboard but decided that keeping an eye out the window was more prudent. Either Mrs. Figg or Dudley could be potential threats. She kept looking at the neighbourhood, frightened. This was sick!
It was too late when she saw the man coming from Mrs. Figg's street and going to the Dursley's. He was tall with grey-brown hair. Even from upstairs she could see how raggedy he looked. Then he rang their bell.
Aunt Petunia had been working of her dyed uniform when she heard. She walked before Helia's hiding spot up the stairs without seeing her. A strangled cry escaped her lips the second she opened the door.
"You!" she managed, though. "What the… What are you doing here?"
"It's been a while Petunia, isn't it? I'm here to see Helianthemum."
"Get the hell out of here before somebody sees you!"
"I need to speak to her. Someone has to, since you haven't been able to."
The man paused. He looked like he was sniffing something in the air.
"You smell like fear… No, it's not just you. She… she smells like fear!"
Helia squeaked. She flattened herself against the wall. One of her hands muffled her shallow breaths.
"What have you done to her?" the man accused her aunt.
"What we have done to her? It's your people that terrifies us at every chance! Please get out of here. I'll tell nothing to no one. But, be gone!"
"Petunia, you don't understand. I mean you no harm. I just need to see her."
"I will not allow your people to take her away. She may not be the happiest here, but you've given her to us. As their guardians, I can't allow you to…"
"Petunia, please. I swear I mean you no harm. But if you do not let me enter…"
"You can't spell me. I know you can't. It's forbidden."
"Not, I mean… what will your neighbours say?"
If she hadn't been so utterly frightened, Helia could have admired the man. The Dursleys were all about appearance. Vernon always wanted to have the most beautiful car, the most luxuriant garden, the happiest family… He wanted everyone to know how rich he had become thanks to the company he built. Whenever there was a public event, he wanted all of them on their best behaviour… Which meant pretending she didn't exist.
Aunt Petunia bit down a curse before shoving the man inside the house. He had won! Helia willed her legs to move. This man wanted her. He was probably from the wizarding sect Mrs. Figg was from. She had to run.
Helia had dreamt people would someday whisk her away from the Dursleys. She hadn't thought there could be worse than them in the world! But as the man went up the stairs, followed by her aunt, she felt trapped. She had nowhere to go, except jumping from the window. Which was out of the question. It's not like she could magically find herself onto the neighbour's roof, just like she once did at school. Or rather it had happened in school, but there had to be a rational explanation. Magic didn't exist.
So, she did the only thing she could think of: throwing herself at the man and escaping through the stairs. With a bit of luck, she could achieve it.
"Helianthemum…" the stranger called when he saw her.
She sidestepped him. He was faster that he anticipated. And despite being just as wiry as she was, he was much stronger than she was. His arm slid around her waist and held her firmly, like a bar of steel.
"Easy… easy girl. I mean you no harm." He muttered and kept her in place.
She tried to look at her aunt, but she was suddenly buried against the man's chest. The heat radiating from him was suffocating. It felt like basking in sunlight inside a dusty room. Strangely, it soothed her. The fear and mistrust were still there, but there were battling something else. Something she couldn't place, something she had forgotten.
There were wet spots in her neck. The man took a ragged breath, and suddenly Helia understood that the man was crying.
"Hum… sir?" she asked.
The whole situation was creeping her out.
"Sorry Helianthemum. It's just… I haven't seen you in ages…"
Who called her that? Nobody but Mrs. Figg knew that name. And the old lady only knew because Petunia had explained the name thing to her once.
"…and you look so much like your parents. I mean you look just like James…"
What the…?
"but Lily's in you too…"
"Who the hell are you!" she blurted. "And please let go of me."
She wasn't used to people touching her. It felt weird and it made her uncomfortable. Well, she had met friendly and weird strangers before, but never did anyone tried to hug her. The closest who had done that was Piers Polkiss, and he had been holding her arms behind her back while another of Dudley's friends was fishing her pockets for candies.
The man let her go. She shuddered and glared at him. What a weird man! He looked apologetic. His eyes looked strange: clear amber irises and black litter pupils. It reminded her the eyes of the neighbor's husky dog.
"My name is Remus Lupin, and I am a friend of your parents." He said. "We were in school together."
Helia gaped at him. He looked… old enough to be her father with his brown hair littered with grey. But he looked way older than a guy in his thirties. Plus, he had scars! She had always thought her parents were sort of normal. The way Vernon and Petunia seldom talked about them, it sounded like they were jobless. But with all these stories about some sort of weird society she was supposed to know, and this scarred man… Had her parents been dangerous people? Is that why they were dead? Is that why Mrs. Figg seemed to know things, and why her aunt didn't want that man in her home?
"You still look afraid," Mr. Lupin said. "But I can assure you I mean you no harm. I'm here to give you something. And answer your questions."
He handed her a thick envelope, kind of like the one Mrs. Figg had in her house. From these Wombat people, then? It was heavy, made of yellowish parchment with emerald-green ink handwriting. It was plainly addressed to her:
Miss. H. D. L. Potter
The Cupboard under the stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
Helia frowned. Was this… On the other side of the envelope was a purple wax seal with a four-part blazon with a lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake separated by a big H letter.
"You knew about this?" she asked her aunt. She looked ashamed.
"Vernon thought… Well, with all the people living here, we thought it was best that you could achieve a normal childhood. It wouldn't have looked right if…"
"A normal childhood?" Mr. Lupin remarked. "How interesting, because I swear this letter mentions you're making Helia sleep inside a cupboard."
A chill ran though Harry's spine. This man sounded dangerous.
"It was the only place we could have made into a room when she arrived into our lives!" Petunia replied. "I swear!"
The man said nothing. He smiled at Helia before leading her aunt to the kitchen. She heard them whispering angrily as she started reading the letter. It was the first time someone ever wrote to her. If her instincts told the truth there was something fishy about this whole story. She pulled the letter out and read:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
Dear Miss Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress
Questions exploded inside her head. Was someone pulling her leg? When Mrs. Figg had talked about witches earlier, and about the letter, did she talk about this? And what were this story about owls? Who would do such an elaborate prank to trap her? She was just a weird child who was adopted by her aunt and uncle. But this was… this was…
She went to the kitchen to see Petunia sipping tea with this Lupin fellow. They were glaring at one another, as if waiting for a reason to just at each other's throat. Helia threw the letter on the table.
"This is completely crazy. But you both seem to believe in it. What is happening?" Her voice came in angsty puffs. Each sentence was blurted from her, almost hurting.
"It may seem silly to you, but it's the truth. You're a witch and magic exist."
"Vernon said there's no such thing at magic," she spat.
"… It was what I gathered from your aunt." Remus turned towards Aunt Petunia. "Seems like your husband is a bit thick."
"Listen, now that you've seen her you can go. My husband or my son could walk inside of here at any moment, and we'll be in big trouble. Your people and mine don't belong together."
The same hurt went though Mr. Lupin's and Helia's eyes. He must have known what it meant to be a freak.
"It is strange how little faith you have in us, Petunia. Your sister was a witch too. You knew this day was going to happen. Why deluding yourself?"
"My sister disappeared to that school of yours. She was never the same after she got that same letter. She was strange before, but after that she just got… All that nonsense to get herself blown up with that Potter boy she liked. But there will be no end to this-this abnormality! Isn't it? I got myself a nice family, away from your world, and we got landed with you!"
"You always said they died in a car crash!"
"Because you think it would have been easier to tell you she was killed by another wizard?"
Helia swore Petunia was about to cry. Mr. Lupins eyes were growing kinder as he looked at the woman before him. She looked at him, and for once, Helia didn't see the bitter woman who was always so keen to have her respect Vernon's rules. She saw the woman she met in the kitchen at the beginning of the month. A woman she didn't know. She looked lost.
"Please leave," she asked again with a quivering voice. "It's over, now that you've delivered that damned letter. My life here is over."
With a sad smile, Mr. Lupin looked at Helia and extended a hand. She looked at him, puzzled, as he messed with her hair. His hot hands on her scalp felt good, but she recoiled. Who did he think he was?
"You look just like Lily when she was angry, but your unmanageable hair's all from your dad."
"Are you're leaving, then? Just like that?"
"I need to tell some things to your uncle first. Maybe to your cousin as well. So, in the meantime, why don't you seat next to me and I'll tell you everything you should know."
She sat and stared as Petunia served her a cup. It smelled way better than Mrs. Figg. She didn't dare asking for milk or sugar. This situation felt so strange already.
"Magic exists," Mr. Lupin started just like a teacher would. "There are two kind of people: magical people that we call witches and wizards, and non-magical people that we call muggles in magic Britain. Because of the Statute of Secrecy, the wizards live apart from the muggles. We don't use our magic against them, and neither do we interfere in their lives. It's like two separate worlds."
"Why can't we live together? Surely there should be ways to make things better with magic… Like wars?"
"Actually, it's quite the contrary. You'll learn that in school, but there used to be a wizard named Grindelwald who operated during World War II. He thought wizards should pick a side in Europe, and many followed him. But he ended up killing lots of people. Since then, most of magic traces have been kept secret. We don't interfere in their world, and they don't interfere with ours. Or, more accurately, we allow some muggles to enter our world, but in return they must not talk about it to anyone. That's the case for your aunt."
Helia looked at her aunt, who nodded grimly.
"It's a hard place to keep. There's many things she can't tell."
"Like how my parents died," she spat.
"Do you really want to know?" Mr. Lupin asked.
She nodded meekly. Her aunt's hand was crisped on her cup, almost becoming white with how tight her fingers dug in the porcelain.
"When your parents and I were young, there was a dark wizard who was doing bad things. Everyone in our world knows his name, because he has been doing crimes for years and no one ever managed to catch him. I'll tell you his name, but you must not repeat it, all right? People still fear him."
Helia and Petunia nodded. Mr. Lupin's voice was a mere whisper:
"Voldemort."
"I heard that name before," the woman remarked. "He-who-must-not-be-named."
"Right."
"What's the story about that man and my parents?"
"Well, that man was recruiting in our school. He offered power for those who served him and committed crimes with him. Many good wizards opposed him of course, but he was really powerful. Even Dumbledore, who had defeated Grindelwald in his time, couldn't beat him."
"Albus Dumbledore? The headmaster?"
"Yes, Helia, that's him. Your parents and I were on his side, so Voldemort tried to kill the three of you. On Halloween's eve 1982, he showed up to Godric's Hollow where your parents were in hiding and killed them."
His voice broke. By the time he recovered it, she thought she saw tears glint in her aunt's eyes. But it could simply be the lighting.
"Do you know why there's a scar on tour forehead?"
Helia mechanically reached for her bangs to hide the half side of her face. There was an ugly scar shaped as lightning bolt on her brow. It was brown, and not as bumpy as it used to be. It went from her hairline to under her brow. She always thought she had gotten it in the accident. But since there had been no car crash…
"It's a cursed scar. The dark wizard tried to use the same death spell he used on your parents. It's a forbidden spell that's supposed to kill anyone instantly. But it didn't work on you. Nobody survived that man, and yet you managed to defeat him when you were just a baby. That's why you're famous in the wizarding world."
"So why wasn't I kept in the wizarding world?"
"I wouldn't know. Albus Dumbledore decided you should be raised by your aunt and uncle."
"I know why," Petunia said. "That man said there was magic lingering from some spell of Lily's. That it was old magic and it would protect the girl from ever being found if she stayed with her family. I thought he meant that we would never see you people again."
Mr. Lupin said nothing. He was thinking deeply, and Helia didn't dare questioning him. Instead, she focused on the painful memories thundering in her head. She saw the blinding green light again, much clearer than she ever did. A man was laughing. It was high-pitched, cold and cruel, almost inhuman.
Vernon entering the house woke up from her daze. In front of her Petunia was frozen. A sad smile adorning his lips, Mr. Lupin stood up and put his vest back on. Intrigued and quite unhappy to find their little reunion, her uncle walked to them. His ears were already of an interesting shade of red.
"Who are you?" he barked. "And what is that letter doing on the table Petunia?"
"Vernon, I…" she started.
"Mr. Dursley, I'm Remus Lupin. I was sent here by Albus Dumbledore."
"YOU'RE ONE OF THEM!"
Vernon grabbed Mr. Lupin by his collar and shoved him in the wall. Any other man would have caved against his meaty fists, and any other man would have found himself hanging from the wall. But despite his wiry silhouette, the wizard was in fact quite fit. Gone was the kindness in his features. His wild eyes bore into the other man's face, while tranquilly bending his fist away from his throat.
"Well, when Dumbledore said I might run into trouble, I hadn't thought it was that much."
"Let go of me you weirdo and get out of my house!"
"I understand you're the one who's been keeping your wife to tell anything to Helia," he replied without moving an inch. "Well, now the problem is solved, and I intend to lead her to Diagon Alley to get her supplies."
"You will not take this girl! I demand that you leave this house immediately, you are breaking and entering."
"Vernon, the neighbours…" Petunia pleaded.
"Oh, yes… What will the neighbours will say Mr. Dursley, hearing you yell like that?"
'They'd probably don't think anything's out of the ordinary,' Helia thought. She had been punished by the man enough to know that people had yet to lift a finger for her. After all, wasn't she the scrawny niece they took in after an accident. She was a difficult child, when Dudley was so gifted. No wonder she always landed him in troubles, that one…
"My house, my rules. Now get the hell out of my house, you and your freakiness!"
Mr. Lupin finally let go of the man. But right as he was leaving, ignoring the threatening silhouette of Vernon Dursley, he turned again to face him. His eyes gleamed like two flames as he looked at the man.
"I would say it had been a pleasure, but it has not. Expect me to be back shortly, Mr. Dursley. And please note that I made no use of magic against you. Yet. Petunia. Helia."
They all looked as he left for Mrs. Figg's house again. Her uncle slammed the door and stared at them. His teeth were clenched, and his fists were closing and opening. Then his eyes landed on his wife.
"We will talk about this. You let one on them in this house, in my house! I can't have that."
"But Vernon, I couldn't possibly…"
"Of course, sweetheart. And that's why I saw you chatting with one of these people in the kitchen, drinking tea and telling her about everything. I had forbidden you, haven't I?"
"Yes, you did. But I thought…"
"You thought what? After all these years, when I saved you from all this nonsense, when you said you wanted an ideal and normal life, haven't I been the perfect husband?"
"You-You have but…"
"Good! Now go and pack some bags for us and for Dudley. We're going where they cannot find us."
"You don't understand. They will find us anyway. She's one of them, and…"
"What? The girl is a hopeless case. She's a freak. That's why I think no normal school will do for this girl. We'll sent her to St Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Children. Better she cost a bit of money but is no trouble, right? Nothing a good beating can't cure."
No! Why did that man had to leave? He was weird, all right! But he knew her parents. And at that exact moment, the strange Mr. Lupin was way more enticing than the Dursleys.
"The world' would be better off with people like you, girl. But Petunia… She's a kind woman. She wanted to keep you. I should have sent you to the orphanage. Instead you're in my house, eating at my table and leaving near my son. I knew things would come to a sticky end!"
Helia didn't see when his fist hit her face. She heard the sickening creak of her nose and glasses before it started hurting. She landed on the floor, butt first. Her head hit the doorframe behind her. Pain. Horrible pain reverberated across her face. Blood seeped through her fingers when she caught her face. She hadn't time to know what happened next, for Vernon seized her. She was thrown on his muscular shoulder. Something hit her in the back of the head this time and everything went black.
They were driving. The car was silent. Her head hurt. Dudley winced when she looked at her.
"Dad? You're sure Helia's fine?" he asked with a small little voice.
"Don't worry son. Your cousin's just been a bit disrespectful, that's all."
There was a long time a silence where she must have dozed off again. She dreamt of a flying motorbike. Dudley's voice woke her again.
"Dad? Where are we going?"
"Far. Far away son."
"But why are you going to a direction, and then the right opposite? It makes no sense."
"I'm just shaking bad people off, son."
"Bad people? Bad how? Is that why Helia and Mom are hurt?"
"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to."
The rest of the ride was shallow. At last, Vernon stopped near a big city, in a shabby-looking hotel. Helia just wanted to keep her head on the window. It was a fresh sensation on her hot…. hot… face. That night she had to share a twin bed with Dudley. He didn't ask about her face again and snored all night. She barely managed to sleep. She didn't leave the room, even if she wanted to. She had nowhere to go.
Would Mr. Lupin find her? Or maybe Mrs. Figg would have other friends of her to call on. The more she thought of the recent events, the more everything strange that had happened in her life made sense. Strange things had always happened around her, from her mysteriously growing hair to her talking to snakes. Mostly it had been things that had happened when she had been scared, or angry, or desperate.
If nothing happened when she was in so much pain and frightened by her uncle, then this magic business was rubbish.
The next morning, as they were packing the car, someone from the hotel came to them.
"Scuse me. I have a Mr. Lupin here looking for a Helia Potter. I know your reservation was under Dursley, but he's very insistent."
"No Helia Potter here." Vernon grumbled as he pushed her niece inside the car. She wouldn't be able to run from them.
"Is your daughter okay? She looks…"
"She fell down the stairs yesterday. Good day sir."
They were gone before he could try anything else. Aunt Petunia suggested it might be better to just go home, but Vernon didn't seem to hear him. He drove into the middle of a forest but seemed to think it was still too easy to find them. It was the same when he went into a multilayer parking. No place seemed faraway enough. Even Dudley started to question his sanity by the end of the day, but it might have been because his parents were ignoring him instead of grovelling before him.
Dudley only thought of the TV shows he was missing.
Helia's face was still throbbing. Vernon had never hit her in the face before. It had always been Dudley. She wondered if she should repair her glasses with scotch again.
After leaving us in the car in the middle of nowhere, Vernon went to a small cabin with fishermen. He came back with a dreadful smile, carrying a long dim package. He made them walk under the rain and showed them a miserable shack on the top of a rock.
"With the storm tonight, no internet and no phone, we'll see if they can find us!" he said victoriously.
After what seemed like hours in the chilly wind, they reached their destination. Inside, it smelled of seaweeds, and the wind was howling. There was only too room, and the damp fireplace had nowhere near enough wood to light anything.
Vernon was in a very good mood. Just like him, Helia thought there was no way Mr. Lupin could reach them here.
When the storm hit at nightfall, high waves threatened to take down the house. Dudley managed to sleep in the mould-eaten sofa, while she was trembling under a smelly blanket. She wished the wind would keep the Dursleys awake, just to spite them. She watched the lighted handles on Dudley's watch ticking them nearer to her birthday. She wondered where Mr. Lupin was now. Was he still looking for her, or was he waiting for the storm to stop?
At a moment, she swore she heard something. Like a panting dog. It made no sense, for there were in the middle of the sea. She'd be eleven in a handful of minutes. Maybe she'd wake Dudley up. Torturing him for her birthday: what a perfect present! But maybe she could do better and get back at his fath…
There was a glowing thing sliding from under the door. Like a thick fog that didn't disperse in the room. Holy… It was taking shape. The panting noise she had heard was back. It wasn't a dog. It was a wolf. A glowing wolf made of mist!
"Happy birthday Helianthemum!" it cheered with Mr. Lupin's voice.
What. What! He had found them! It had to be him: nobody used her full name.
"It's you! You're Mr. Lupin!"
"Just wait a minute, I'm going to Apparate outside."
"Say what?"
There was a popping noise the other side of the door. I rattled, like someone was trying to push it. The sound reverberated inside the shack, waking Dudley. She stood as her cousin looked at her groggily.
"Alohomora," he said and the lock opened all by itself.
Magic was real. And it was cool.
In the room entered Remus Lupin, drenched in water. He shook himself and closed the door with a kick, splashing water everywhere. Vernon made rattling noises and cursed upstairs as he was getting up. Mr. Lupin shushed them before moving near the stairs. He was graceful and silent. There was a wooden stick in one of his hands that he held like a weapon. Her uncle skidded into the room, a rifle in his hands.
"Who's there! I warn you, I'm armed!"
"Are you Mr. Dursley?"
Helia's jaw almost fell: her uncle was merely holding a tree branch. Dudley squeaked and went hiding behind his parents. The man dropped his weapon as if he had been burned.
"Anyway Helia, Happy birthday. I was thinking of taking you to Diagon Alley and buy you a gift there. You don't mind her going, right?"
In the dim light, she saw Mr. Lupin frown at Petunia's fading bruises. Then he looked at Helia's face. She heard him growl like a beast. His eyes went back to Vernon's face.
"Dursley!" he hissed.
Her uncle's face grew very pale. He mumbled something she didn't get.
"I'd like to see you try something against me Mr. Dursley."
"And I'm telling you she's not going. There will be no magic books, or wand, or whatnot. She'll go to St Brutus, and they'll quench that nonsense out of her!"
"And you think a simple muggle like you can stop Helianthemum Potter from attending Hogwarts, just because it won't damage his simple life of normalcy? She needs to learn how to use her magic in a controlled environment. She'll be under great professors of magic in the finest school of witchcraft…"
"I WILL NOT GIVE A CENT FOR SOME SECTARIAN FOOLS TO TEACH HER TRICKS!" he yelled.
This was the exact moment her uncle knew he had gone too far. Remus' swished down his stick towards the chimney. A fire roared in the fireplace.
"Would you like me to show you other tricks Mr. Dursley?" he asked, now pointing the man directly. "I'm not sure you want to know what I can do to you with this wand. Now back off!"
The trio moved back upstairs under the threat of Mr. Lupin's stick. Helia was glad he thought of making a fire, and but was disappointed he didn't turn her uncle into a frog.
"Let's get you into a better place," he said and opened the door. "Take my arm and take a deep breath."
The next thing Helia knew, someone was trying to force her body into a rubbery tube that was way too small for her. She landed on a stony backyard behind a shop. Her stomach lurched as she went to the ground. Mr. Lupin rubbed soothing circles on her back. Hopefully the fact she hadn't eaten since last breakfast meant that only some bile crawled up her throat.
As he helped her back into her wobbly legs, Mr. Lupin suggested they went straight to bed. She meekly asked him from some food and he ushered her inside. The keeper, Tom, wasn't up, but a small creature named Isty was thrilled to serve her a bowl of soup. Another wand waving later, her nose and glasses were fixed.
That night was the first time someone tucked her to bed.
So, tell me, what do you think about this penpal idea. When I reread Harry Potter recently, I was amazed at how easily Harry and Hermione were understanding magic and everything around. There had been some bits of fun with Arthur Weasley trying to understand muggle appliances, but that was all. It's like "okay, it's magical, I'm all for it. Let's go find some adventure." Plus, pureblood wizards have always seemed very uptight to me, but nothing shows in the books (okay, they are for kids, but still). There are prejudices against muggleborn students, but nothing is done to integrate them inside the wizarding world. Prejudices alone don't take into consideration the diversity of the wizarding world, especially when there can be half-breeds such as Hagrid or Professor Flitwick.
Regarding muggles,I know there is the Statute of Secrecy that hides wizards from the rest of the world. But I don't think they can simply isolate themselves, as they do in Britain. I mean, muggles have invented bombs that can wipe out entire cities, reshape the earth and deal damages to entire populations. How can wizard dismiss them so easily? I'm quite sure they experienced WWII just like everyone else. Especially Tom Riddle, since he graduated in 1944.
Tell me your thoughts about wizards and muggle cohabitation. Do you think it's possible, or that they should remain separated? Please answer in the review section, or via PM.
Thanks for reading.
And keep an eye out for updates!