Disclaimer: Not mine, don't own it—I wish! Unfortunately, Harry Potter belongs to JKR and not to me; I'm just playing in her sandbox.
A/N: In Philosopher's Stone, after Harry parts from Hagrid at the end of his day's shopping in Diagon Alley, JKR wrote: "Hagrid helped Harry on to the train that would take him back to the Dursleys…" When I first read that, I took it to mean the train back to the Dursleys' home, not to the Dursleys themselves, who are still stuck on that rock in the middle of the sea. I must admit, I did wonder how the Dursleys got home, until I read in a later interview that JKR had said Harry had gone to rescue them. (I'm afraid I've lost the link to that interview so I don't know how accurate the idea of Harry rescuing the Dursleys is, though I'll post the lnk if I ever find it again.)
To be honest, that sentence in the book really is ambiguous, and I find the whole concept find bizarre. A scrawny eleven-year-old is travelling around the country, schlepping with him a large and heavy trunk (which Muggles no longer use) and an owl in a cage (which isn't exactly a common pet in the Muggle world) and no one says anything to him? No one asks where he's going or why he's travelling alone, dragging a trunk and birdcage in his wake? Harry manages to get it all onto the train himself—even though he later struggled with it on Platform 9¾—gets it off the train, from the train station to wherever Hagrid left the boat, and then manages to haul it into the rowing boat and row said rowing boat by himself with the weight of the trunk and the birdcage in it out to the rock the shack is on so he can rescue the Dursleys. And all this without any Muggle money to pay for transport. Yup, that's logical and realistic, isn't it? Even getting the train back to Little Whinging from Diagon Alley isn't realistic unless Hagrid bought the train ticket, because unlike Dudley, Harry isn't given pocket-money and so can't pay for the ticket himself. He has plenty of wizarding money, but no Muggle money that we're aware of.
Then consider all the Dursleys' experiences with magic, in addition to being abandoned on a rock in the ocean somewhere. While I don't condone their treatment of Harry as a child, I do understand why they would be so resentful and angry about magic.
A few slight changes to canon.
.o.O.o.
The small boy in tatty, oversized clothes trudged wearily down the road, dragging a heavy trunk behind him in one hand and clutching an increasingly heavy bird cage containing a snowy owl in the other hand. As he approached number Four, Privet Drive, his footsteps faltered and eventually he ground to a halt, an impending sense of doom hanging over him as he looked apprehensively at the house.
Unable to bring himself to approach further, the messy-haired boy did not know how long he had been standing there when he heard a voice behind him. "Harry? Are you all right?"
Harry looked around and saw the older neighbour with whom his relatives tended to leave him when they did not want to take him with them. Harry looked helplessly at the woman, not knowing where to begin to explain what was wrong.
"I see you've been doing your Hogwarts shopping," Mrs Figg commented and Harry's eyes widened in shock.
"Are you… are you… a witch?" he whispered, looking around to be sure no one would overhear.
Mrs Figg sighed. "No, I'm not, Harry. Now, where are the Dursleys?" Mrs Figg did not make the mistake of calling them Harry's family.
Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times, wanting desperately to confide in someone, anyone, and even if Mrs Figg was a bit batty and occasionally mean, at least she treated Harry better than anyone else in the neighbourhood did. Given that she seemed to be connected somehow to the magical world, he decided to confide in his elderly neighbour but was nervous to speak out on the street where anyone could hear him.
Seeing the young lad glancing furtively around, Mrs Figg understood his reservations. Reaching out to relieve him of his bird cage, she addressed the owl. "I'm going to take Harry to my home. If we let you out to fly, will you follow us? I can give you some nice owl treats when we get there." The beautiful snowy owl barked in reply, and Mrs Figg smiled at it. "What do you say, Harry? Shall we let her stretch her wings a bit?"
"She won't get lost, will she?" Harry asked uncertainly.
The snowy owl barked in indignation, so Mrs Figg explained. "Don't worry, Harry. Post owls are very intelligent, and this lady looks more intelligent than most. She won't get lost."
"All right," Harry nodded and reached over to open the cage. His beautiful owl fluttered up to circle his head before taking off to fly over to the nearest tree. As they walked along to Mrs Figg's house in Wisteria Walk, Harry's head kept swivelling around to watch his owl follow them as she flitted from tree to tree. With Mrs Figg helping Harry with the trunk, it did not take long until they reached the old lady's house. She settled Harry on a couch and brought him something to eat and drink, before letting his snowy owl into the house. The owl settled on a convenient perch, and gratefully took some water and owl treats from Mrs Figg.
"Now, Harry, why don't you tell me what's going on and we'll see if I can help," his neighbour suggested.
Harry sighed. His mind was so full of impressions and thoughts, it was overwhelming, but the words came spilling out, all in a jumble. "I got my Hogwarts letter but Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia didn't want me to have it and they took it from me. The letters just kept coming and coming, loads of them, every day, no matter what Uncle Vernon did to try and stop them. So he took us off in the car and we stayed one night at a hotel, but the letters came there instead. Finally he rented a boat and took us to a deserted shack on a rock in the middle of the sea. It was like he'd lost his mind. Even Dudley commented on it."
Arabella smirked to herself. The entire neighbourhood had seen Vernon Dursley acting more and more irrationally over the last week or so, and knowing how badly they treated Harry, she was not inclined to be sympathetic towards the obnoxious man's distress. She did not let that distract her, though, and concentrated on Harry who was still rambling on.
"Someone broke down the door in the middle of the night. He was enormous! His name was Hagrid and said he was from Hogwarts. The Dursleys annoyed him, so he gave Dudley a pig's tail. At first, I thought it was funny, because Dudley really is like a pig, you know? But Hagrid didn't take the tail away. Dudley can't be seen by the Muggles with a pig's tail, so how will he get rid of it? Will he have to have an operation? That hurts, doesn't it? Even with painkillers, he'll be really sore. It's not nice what Hagrid did to him. Dudley may be a bully, but he's still just a kid like me and he doesn't have any magic so he can't defend himself against it. For an adult to do that to a kid, it just isn't right, is it?"
Arabella was impressed with Harry. While she likewise found the image of Dudley Dursley with a pig's tail amusing, she had to agree that what Rubeus Hagrid had done was wrong, and she was impressed with Harry's compassion towards his cousin. But then, it's not really about Dudley, is it? she thought. It's more that as a victim himself, Harry doesn't want to see anyone else also become a victim, not even his own tormentor.
"Is that all that happened, Harry?" Arabella asked gently. She had noticed that the house was still boarded up from Vernon's efforts to refuse Harry's Hogwarts letters and that his car was not in the driveway.
Harry shook his head miserably. "Hagrid took me shopping in the morning. He took the boat that we used to get to the island and didn't send it back or anything. So the Dursleys are stranded on this tiny island with no food, no door because Hagrid smashed it in and no way to get off the island. Hagrid sent me back home when we finished shopping, he didn't take me back to get the Dursleys. I've no idea where the rock is or how to get there. I don't even have any money to get there, even if I knew where to go. Uncle Vernon's going to be furious when he gets back!"
Arabella pursed her lips in thought. Harry was right about Vernon's likely reaction, and he was also correct that there was no excuse for what Hagrid had done to the Dursleys. She did not know who made the decision that he would be the appropriate person to send to give Harry his letter and take him to Diagon Alley, but there was no doubt that it was the worst choice that could possibly have been made. "Did you say anything to Hagrid about the Dursleys?" she asked.
Harry blushed in shame. "I was too scared. I was worried he might give me a pig's tail, too, and there's no way the Dursleys would pay for a surgeon to take it off me, no matter what they might do for Dudley."
"That's all right, Harry. You did nothing wrong," Arabella reassured him.
Getting up, she crossed over to the fireplace in her home and threw in some green powder from a pot on the mantlepiece. To Harry's amazement, green flames sprung up and he watched open-mouthed as Mrs Figg knelt down and stuck her head in the flames. A few minutes later, a tall man with greasy black hair, black eyes and a very large nose walked out of the fireplace. He looked over at Harry and Arabella made introductions.
"Harry, this is Severus Snape. He'll be your Potions Professor at Hogwarts."
"Hello, Professor," Harry said uncertainly. "It's nice to meet you."
"Mr Potter," the black-clad man drawled. "Mrs Figg has explained to me the current predicament of your relatives."
Harry looked up at him hopefully. "Is there any way to find them? And to fix Dudley?"
"Yes, I want you to look at me and think about the shack where they are. I'll be able to see the memory in your mind and I can use that to find them."
"You can read minds? Cool! Will I learn that at Hogwarts?" Harry asked in excitement.
Despite himself, Severus' lips twitched. Looking into Harry's eyes he soon had the information he needed. "Thank you, Mr Potter. I'll be back shortly," he said, before he twisted and disappeared with a loud crack.
Harry looked at Mrs Figg in astonishment and she explained to him, "It's a form of magical travel called Apparition. Similar to the transporting thing they do on Star Trek but without the need for a machine."
At this, Harry looked thoughtful. "I think I might have done that once by accident. I was running away from Dudley and his gang at school and suddenly I found myself on top of the roof without knowing how I got there."
"Well, it does sound like it might have been Apparition, but I can't be sure. You'd need to ask Severus or one of your other professors."
Harry looked with interest at the lady who he'd always regarded as being batty, and even unpleasant. He was surprised by but grateful for her uncharacteristic care. Remembering that she had said she was not a witch, Harry wondered how Mrs Figg knew so much about the magical world but did not think it would be polite to ask.
Realising what he was thinking, Arabella sat down and explained to Harry. "While magical children can be born to non-magical, or Muggle, families, the same thing can happen the other way round. Sometimes non-magical children are born to magical families. These children are called Squibs and they're not commonly treated well by the Wizarding world, I'm afraid, so many of them retreat into the Muggle world. I knew Severus Snape's mother when we were children, but when I didn't get my Hogwarts letter, her parents wouldn't let her associate with me because I'm a Squib. We were in touch briefly after she was disowned for marrying Severus' father, who was a Muggle, although we lost contact again later. Severus grew up near your mother's family, and he and your mother used to be friends."
Harry nodded, although he was not sure he really understood properly. He was simply so overwhelmed he accepted what she said without question and filed it away in his mind to think about later.
From Harry's perspective, it was not long before the intimidating professor returned. "Your family has been rescued, Mr Potter, and are driving back home. Not only have I removed the pig's tail from young Mr Dursley, but I also removed their memory of it—there is no point in making them any more scared of magic than they already are—however, if they should take out their anger over Hagrid leaving them stranded, let Mrs Figg know. She'll contact me and I'll come and have another word with your aunt."
"Assuming they don't lock me away in my cupboard," Harry muttered under his breath.
"Explain," Severus demanded, and the young boy shivered inwardly at the waves of fury rolling off the man.
"My cupboard. I lived in the cupboard under the stairs until the first letter came. Then I was moved into Dudley's second bedroom."
"Dudley's second bedroom," Severus repeated tonelessly. "He had two bedrooms and you lived in a cupboard?"
Harry nodded miserably, and Severus swallowed his impulse to swear vociferously, not wanting to upset the distressed young boy further.
"And why, may I ask, would they lock you in the cupboard? Is this something they do often?" Severus inquired.
Harry stared unhappily at his feet. He was not accustomed to talking about his home life. He knew there was no point as no one in Little Whinging would believe him, and it would only cause Vernon to punish him again.
"I expect an answer when I ask a question, Mr Potter," Severus persisted.
"Whenever I do something Uncle Vernon doesn't like, he locks me in the cupboard. When Aunt Petunia sheared my hair because Uncle Vernon thinks its too messy—all except for the fringe, because she hates my scar—I didn't want to go to school like that because everyone would laugh at me even more than they already do. When I woke up the next morning, my hair was back to normal. I don't know how it happened but I was shut in the cupboard for a week for that. And on Dudley's birthday, they were already upset because they had to take me with them to the zoo, but when we were in the reptile house the glass in front of the boa constrictor disappeared and then reappeared. Dudley was trapped inside and Uncle Vernon blamed me. I wasn't allowed out until after the summer holidays had started."
"And how long was that?" asked the stern professor.
"I don't know. A few weeks?" Harry shrugged his shoulders.
Severus shared a look with Arabella. He did not like what he was hearing but was unsure what he could do to rectify the situation. He would need to take his time and think how he could help the boy. With only one month until Harry would depart for Hogwarts, it might be best if he left things as they were for now and focused instead on trying to make alternative arrangements for Harry so he would not need to return here next summer.
Arabella sighed. "Harry, why don't you stay here tonight? You can go back to the Privet Drive in the morning. I suggest leave your magical things here until you go to Hogwarts, so Vernon won't try to destroy them in a temper. I'll make sure you get everything back when it's time to go to school. Come along, I'll give you some supper and then you can go to bed. You look exhausted."
Harry nodded dumbly. "May I…" he started to ask and then stopped, not sure if he would get into trouble for this, the way he would at the Dursley home.
"May you what, Harry?" Arabella asked gently. "Tell me what you want. It's all right. I won't get angry."
Harry cleared his throat nervously. "May I take one of my school books to read in bed? I'd like to start reading them before school begins."
"It's a very good idea to read your textbooks before school begins—at least the first few chapters of each one, anyway," Snape approved. "I'm sure Mrs Figg won't mind you taking a book to bed with you."
"As long as you don't stay up reading too late," she agreed. "But you can come round and read your books anytime you can get away from Petunia."
"I'll come back tomorrow and take you back to Petunia's, Harry. I'll have a word with her, persuade her to leave you alone until you leave for Hogwarts," Snape promised, and Harry looked relieved. He had been dreading facing the Dursleys again, but Professor Snape was highly intimidating with an extremely dangerous aura about him, and Harry felt that even Vernon would hesitate to lose his temper with the dark man.
"Thank you," Harry said in heartfelt tones, and Severus nodded in acknowledgement before departing through the fireplace.
That night, Harry lay in bed reading A History of Magic. Arabella Figg had warned him of the dangers of trying out spells without supervision, so as much as he wanted to learn magic, he decided to focus first on learning about this new and exciting world he would be joining, and thought reading his history book would be the best way to do that. He was also looking forward to reading his Potions textbook, Mrs Figg having told him that this was Professor Snape's subject. From what Mrs Figg had said, Harry thought that Potions sounded much like cooking. At least that's one subject I ought to be quite good at, Harry decided optimistically, thinking of how much cooking his Aunt Petunia made him do.
The next morning, the tall man returned and escorted Harry back to the Dursleys. "I'll make a deal with you, Tuney," he said to Harry's irate aunt. "You're going to ignore the boy from now until he leaves for Hogwarts. He'll spend his days at Arabella Figg's house until then. In return for that consideration, he'll keep all his school things—including his owl—at her house. I know you'd rather not give them house room. Mrs Figg will even take the boy to Kings Cross on the first of September so you won't be put to any trouble," he sneered.
"How?" Petunia demanded, glaring at Severus. "Mrs Figg doesn't drive. I don't want her to come to us at last minute asking for a lift to the station."
Snape turned to Harry. "There's a magical bus called the Knight Bus. Just stick out your wand hand and it will come to you, no matter where you are. If you ever need it, know that it can take you anywhere in Britain by magical means with minimal travel time. On the first of September, however, it's better to summon it early as it's likely to be busy that day. I don't know the fare, but you'll need to pay in magical currency."
Harry nodded that he understood. "Thank you, sir."
"If it means the neighbours won't hear or see that owl, then I agree," Petunia snapped ungraciously. "The boy can spend his days with Mrs Figg. In fact, he can just stay there until school starts."
"No," said Severus adamantly and Petunia huffed. "How would it look to your neighbours, Tuney, if your nephew moved out to live with Mrs Figg?" he said slyly, smirking when she scowled because Severus knew how important appearances were to her. Petunia was clearly worried that Severus would embarrass her in front of her neighbours and the tall man filed that away for future reference, should he need to use it at a later date for Harry's sake.
Severus turned to Harry. "If Mrs Figg agrees, you can perhaps stay there overnight once or twice a week, but no more. I'm sorry, Harry, but there are wards—special protections—on this house to keep you safe and they require that you live here until you go to school."
"And once I go to Hogwarts?" the boy asked carefully.
"I'm afraid that until you're of age in the magical world, you'll need to come back every year for at least part of the summer." Severus had clarified this with Albus Dumbledore the night before. "It's not ideal," he glared at Petunia, who looked defiantly back at him, "but it'll amount to only a few weeks a year, so it could be worse."
Harry nodded in resignation and held out his hand to the dark man. "Thank you for your help, sir. And for helping to fix everything yesterday," he added.
Severus took Harry's hand and shook it. "You're welcome, Mr Potter. I look forward to seeing you in good health on the first of September." With one final warning glance at Petunia Dursley, Severus Snape whirled on his heel and apparated away.
.o.O.o.
Three years later, Harry was nervously waiting to be collected by the Weasleys to be taken to the Quidditch World Cup. He did not know by what means Mr Weasley would be coming, but he was concerned because for all that his best friend's father professed to be fascinated by Muggles, Mr Weasley was actually rather ignorant of the Muggle world. Harry wished the Weasleys had given him prior notice, instead of only telling him that morning, and then he would have had time to advise Mr Weasley to floo to Mrs Figg's house. Instead, he was sitting worrying in case Mr Weasley would do something to make the neighbours take notice or to upset Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Neither was a particularly attractive option, and after the house-elf, Dobby, had used magic in 4 Privet Drive to get Harry in trouble, followed a year later by Harry himself having a burst of accidental magic which caused Vernon's sister, Marge, to be blown up like a blimp, Harry was also worried that the Ministry of Magic might be losing patience with him and therefore did not think it would be a good idea if any more magic was to be performed in Privet Drive.
Unfortunately, Harry's worries were soon proven to have been justified. It was bad enough that the Weasleys were running late, but hearing the bangs and shouts coming from the Dursleys' living room, Harry knew that this would be infinitely worse. Running into the living-room, Harry quickly realised that the Weasleys had tried to floo without first checking if there was a working fireplace. Harry had tried to floo the Burrow from Mrs Figg's home that morning but, quite surprisingly, no one had been at the Burrow. Not knowing when they would return home, or even if they would return before coming to collect him, Harry had not wanted to remain there and risk the Weasleys arriving at the Dursleys without him there and so he had left behind a note suggesting that they floo to Mrs Figg's and then walk to Privet Drive, but it would seem that they had not seen it.
Despite Harry's best efforts, chaos ensued—something that he should perhaps have expected, knowing that the Weasleys were involved, Harry reflected. Seeing Dudley choking on his massively swollen and inflated tongue had Harry biting back fury as he arrived at the Burrow. Between that and the mess Arthur Weasley had made of the Dursleys' home, Harry was quietly fuming.
"Did he eat it?" said Fred excitedly, holding out a hand to pull Harry to his feet.
"Yeah," said Harry, straightening up. "What was it?"
"Ton-Tongue Toffee," said Fred brightly. "George and I invented them, we've been looking for someone to test them on all summer…"
"And you thought my cousin, Dudley, was the right victim?"
Fred looked uneasily at Harry. "Well, I wouldn't say victim precisely."
"Well, I would!" said Harry indignantly, leaving an uncomfortable silence.
Stepping into the breach, Bill and Charlie, the two oldest brothers, took the opportunity to greet the black-haired boy. "The twins didn't mean any harm, you know," said Bill after introducing himself.
"And yet, harm is what they did," Harry said doggedly.
At that moment, Arthur Weasley arrived back at the Burrow in a steaming fury. "It was four foot long before his parents would let me shrink it!" he finished his rant.
The Weasleys roared with laughter.
"It isn't funny!" Mr Weasley shouted. "That sort of behaviour seriously undermines wizard–Muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of Muggles, and my own sons—"
"We didn't give it to him because he was a Muggle!" said Fred indignantly.
"No, we gave it to him because he's a great bullying git," said George. "Isn't he, Harry?"
"That's not the point!" snapped Harry. "He's a Muggle. He had no defence against that! And what if he hadn't found the toffee until after we'd already left? Would it have worn off after a few minutes or would Dudley have been left with a giant tongue forever? Would it ever have stopped growing? He could have choked to death!"
Then, to the surprise of everyone present, Harry swung round to Mr Weasley. "And you! Even if you fixed it afterwards, the Dursleys are never going to forgive or forget you blowing up their living room. Look, I really appreciate the invitation, Mr Weasley, but if you had just written a day or two earlier I could have advised you to pick me up from Mrs Figg's house. She's a Squib that lives in the next street and I usually keep my magical things in her house anyway. Mrs Figg is already connected to the floo network, so all this mess could easily have been avoided. It doesn't matter that Dudley's a bully or that the Dursleys are nasty people. What you did to the Dursleys—all of you—just wasn't right."
As a stunned silence fell, Harry stomped off to calm down in the garden. He was angry because he truly felt the Weasleys were in the wrong, but at the same time, he was grateful to them for inviting him to their house and to join them at the World Cup, and he was worried they would think he was unappreciative.
It was not long before Hermione joined him. "Are they angry with me?" Harry asked miserably. "Should I go back to Privet Drive?"
Hermione shook her head. "Don't worry, Mrs Weasley set them all straight. She was a bit embarrassed that they hadn't thought to ask you what would be the best way to collect you from the Dursleys given their attitude towards magic, but you were quite right to be angry with the twins and Mr Weasley. Did he really blow up their living room?"
Harry nodded gloomily. "It looked like a bomb had hit it. I don't know how the neighbours didn't hear the explosion. Aunt Petunia is very house-proud, and even if Mr Weasley fixed everything as good as new, I'm not sure she'll ever get over it."
Hermione put her arm around Harry and gave him a quick hug. "Harry, as you rightly said, the Dursleys don't have a defence against magic. What Mr Weasley did was just thoughtless and slightly inconsiderate, but what the twins did was cruel. They don't always think of the consequences of their pranking and, well… they're purebloods. They're not blood purists but they simply can't fathom living without magic so it genuinely didn't occur to them that their prank toffees could have been dangerous because the Dursleys wouldn't have been able to stop his tongue growing further or return it to normal. They know on an intellectual level the Dursleys can't do magic but they don't truly comprehend what that actually means. I think you getting angry when they thought you'd find it hilarious was a bit of a wake-up call. A much-needed one, in my opinion. A prank is only a prank if the victim finds it funny. Genuinely funny. If it's dangerous or humiliating for the victim, or if the victim is laughing only to try and save face, then it's not a prank, it's bullying."
Harry nodded in agreement. He had never seen the Weasleys interact with Hermione's parents, but he knew that Mr Weasley tended to regard Muggles in general as simpletons, on a par with performing monkeys, and given that the Grangers were highly educated professionals, he could not imagine that condescending and patronising attitude going down too well with Hermione's family. Of course, like the Dursleys, Hermione's parents had no more defence against magic than the Dursleys did, so it was no surprise that Hermione felt Harry had been justified in becoming angry, no matter how much he disliked his relatives. Harry had a feeling that Hermione was imagining her parents in Dudley's place and was not best pleased by the picture she was seeing. With a sigh, Harry sat beside his friend in silence until he felt a nudge in his side.
"Come on," Hermione said, looking resigned. "They're all sheepishly waiting to apologise."
Harry snorted. "I'd rather they apologise to the Dursleys but it wouldn't occur to the Weasleys to apologise to Muggles. Like you said, they're not blood purists but they still unconsciously treat Muggles as inferior." He sighed. "Oh, well. The Dursleys would much prefer never seeing or hearing from the Weasleys ever again rather than receiving an apology, so it's probably best just to let it lie."
Sharing a rueful grin with her friend, Hermione linked her arm in Harry's and escorted him back into the house, where a contrite Weasley family awaited their return.
.o.O.o.
After the encounter with the Weasleys just prior to Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts, Harry had hoped the Dursleys would be left alone by the Wizarding world, but instead there had been another dreadful experience when Dolores Umbridge, the Minister for Magic's Under-Secretary had sent Dementors after him, and both he and Dudley had nearly been kissed. That had been the summer before his fifth year, and at the end of that school year, various members of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix had threated the Dursleys over their treatment of their nephew. Harry had tried to stop them, but as was common with members of the Order, they had ignored what he wanted and had carried on with their intimidation regardless. As if that was not bad enough, at the end of that summer, Dumbledore had paid them a visit and had taken it upon himself to bait the Dursleys in a truly petty and childish form of revenge for their treatment of Harry—treatment which would never have happened if Dumbledore had not left Harry with them in the first place! Finally, the Dursleys had been forced to leave their home and go into hiding after the war had heated up.
The war was now over and Harry wanted to go with Hermione, his Muggleborn best friend, and the only other one of the people to whom he was closest who was as familiar with the Muggle world and Muggles as he was, to return his relatives to their home, but various Weasleys and other Order members were objecting vociferously. Once again, his opinion was being dismissed as irrelevant.
"Harry, you don't need to see those Muggles again. We can take care of returning them home, dear," said Molly, causing Hermione to raise an eyebrow.
"Those Muggles?" she said incredulously. "They're people, Mrs Weasley, just like us."
"Come now, dear. You know they're not really like us," Molly replied dismissively, angering Hermione further.
"I think I know rather better than you do, Mrs Weasley. How many Muggles do you actually know? In case you've forgotten, I'm Muggle-born. I was brought up in the Muggle world, and I've travelled fairly extensively about the world. We always went overseas for our holidays. I can assure you that with or without magic, people are just people the world over," said Hermione, trying not to let her temper get the better of her. Taking a deep breath, she decided it was finally time to get off her chest something that had been bothering her for years. "And being Muggle doesn't make my parents—or any other Muggles—simple-minded nitwits," she added with a sideways glance towards Arthur. "They're highly respected Healers with a higher degree of education than almost everyone in this room right now."
Seeing Molly spluttering with embarrassed indignation, Harry decided to intervene. "Getting back to the point, I may not have had the best of relationships with the Dursleys but they're still my family and I want to see with my own eyes that they've been returned home safely."
"Fa… family? How can you say that, Harry?" stuttered Ron in dismay.
"Because Aunt Petunia is my mother's sister?" he replied sarcastically, making Hermione smother a grin. "And Dudley's my cousin. Look, I probably won't ever have much to do with them, but I owe it to them to make sure everything's all right for them. It's my responsibility and I'm sure it's what my mother would want."
"That's very mature of you, Harry," said Kingsley approvingly. "Surely you don't disapprove of Harry being an honourable young man, Molly?" he added when the red-headed matriarch glared at him for his interference.
Kingsley winked at Harry, who grinned back at him in relief. "In any case," Harry added. "I'm legally an adult now and you can't make this decision for me, Mrs Weasley. Look, I appreciate all you've done for me over the years but there are some things I have to do for myself, and one of those things is dealing with my relatives who are—quite understandably—scared and resentful of magic."
"Well, I don't know why," Molly bristled indignantly. "It's not like we're Death Eaters."
Harry gave an incredulous laugh. "No, but they don't know the difference! First, Professor Dumbledore dropped me off on their doorstep like an unwanted package, without asking if they wanted to take me in or even bothering to take the time and effort to tell Aunt Petunia about her sister's death in person. He left Aunt Petunia to find out about it in a note! They were given no help explaining or rectifying my accidental magic when I was a child. Then, Hagrid gave Dudley a pig's tail, which he would had to have removed in an extremely painful Muggle surgical procedure if Professor Snape hadn't helped. After that, I blew up Aunt Marge in a burst of accidental magic. Next, the twins nearly killed Dudley with one of their Ton-Tongue Toffees; Mr Weasley blew up their living room; Dudley was nearly kissed by a Dementor; Mr Weasley, Mad-Eye, Remus and Tonks all threatened them, without even bothering to check if I wanted their interference; Professor Dumbledore indulged in some Muggle baiting against them; they had to abandon their home and Uncle Vernon lost his job because he couldn't go to work while he was in hiding. And you don't think they have reason to be scared of you?!" Harry shook his head at the various assembled Order members and Weasleys, who were all looking at him in shock due to his unexpected outburst. "Come on, Hermione. Let's go," he said, as he stalked out in high dudgeon.
Hermione followed Harry out the Burrow. "I notice you didn't mention the way you threatened the Dursleys yourself," she commented in amusement.
"What, after first year when I didn't tell them we weren't allowed to do magic out of school?" he asked with a grin. "Or when I didn't tell them that my godfather, who was a wanted criminal at the time, had been falsely accused of murder and was actually innocent of the charges against him?"
Hermione nodded. "Surely your aunt must have known you weren't allowed to do magic out of school—your Mum wouldn't have been allowed to use magic either when she was young."
Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Apparently, Mum got a few warning letters but nothing serious, so Aunt Petunia didn't think I'd suffer any real repercussions if I did magic during the school holidays. Of course, I was probably more closely monitored than anyone else because of being the Boy-Who-Lived," he added sourly, "which is why my warning after Dobby did magic to get me in trouble seems to have been much sterner than any of the warnings Mum ever got. Anyway, I apologised for everything before they had to leave home, just in case I didn't make it through that last year of the war. I wanted to do the right thing in case I couldn't later."
"Did they accept your apology?" Hermione asked curiously.
"Not really, but that doesn't matter. I understand their feelings on the matter. It's not like they don't have sufficient reason to be scared of magic," Harry replied philosophically and Hermione hummed in agreement. Harry was quite right, after all—their treatment of Harry may have been wrong, but when all was said and done, the Dursleys really did have reason to be scared of magic.
.o.O.o.
A/N 1: I know in canon Harry was actually given enough notice that if he'd known at that point that Mrs Figg was a Squib he could have arranged for Arthur to meet him at her house but I wanted to use the scene where he's collected from the Dursleys' home, so in this story there wasn't enough time.
A/N 2: Quotes (in italics) from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by JK Rowling, Chapter 4.