A Late STart
Too Late The Rescue(June 1991) Minerva McGonagall was concerned. No, she was more than concerned; she was anxious, fearful, and apprehensive. After warning Albus Dumbledore back in November of 1981 about the household they were entrusting the savior of the Wizarding world in, she now had the total lack of response from Harry Potter after sending him his acceptance letter for the next Hogwarts school year. The spells that chose and delivered the letters were automatic. She never even saw the envelope for young Potter before it was mailed. But part of the spell notified her when the letter was opened, letting her know that it was received. Most of the letters were opened within minutes of being opened, the main exceptions being when the child was not home at the moment and the parents held the letter until the addressee could have the honour of doing it himself.
Mr Potter's letter, however, was marked as delivered and destroyed unopened. Knowing the importance of getting that particular student into school she took control of the spells and sent a new batch of letters out. While she still did not have access to the envelopes before they left the Owlery, she did have power over how many letters were sent to that address. She had hoped the dozen sent in the second attempt would bring more success.
When all twelve were marked destroyed, she took severe measures and sent a third batch, this time setting the number of copies at two hundred. There was no way the muggles could destroy all of them before young Mr Potter opened one.
After two days of not seeing a single envelope opened, she had had enough. She left a note on the Headmaster's desk telling him she was going to investigate a communications problem and put on her travelling cloak. Since Dumbledore had ignored the situation for ten years, she would present him with a problem solved rather than give him the chance to dillydally around this time.
Apparating to the general area that she remembered the Dursleys' house as being in, she took a few moments to mentally compare how it had changed in the decade since she had last been there. All of the houses looked well maintained, the yards neat and proper. She saw several children younger than Harry would be now playing in a park set up in a vacant lot. In other words, not much had changed except the number of houses present.
Walking down the street she finally came to the intersection with Privet Drive, the location of the muggle house she was looking for. Without even looking she could tell exactly which one was number four. It was the one that was trimmed to perfection. No straggly branches on the hedges under the windows, no marks or smears on the windows, every blade of grass seemed to be the exact same length in height. It was the ultimate in perfection, if your idea of perfection was complete lack of creativity.
Stepping up to the door, she knocked briskly. Allowing two minutes for someone to answer the door, which they didn't, she knocked again. Again permitting several minutes for an answer, she finally stepped back from the door and looked closer at the house.
The blinds were drawn, and muggle curtains could be seen hanging limply behind them. The 'garage' door was closed tightly, unlike the others on the street which were cracked to allow some of the July heat to escape. She transformed her ears to their feline form and tried to hear any noises from inside or behind the building, with no success. Quickly returning to her normal shape, she turned and walked back down the cement walkway towards the street.
Once there she walked over to number three and again knocked briskly. This time she received an answer almost immediately from inside, and the door opened but moments later. Introducing herself without any of her titles Minerva asked the tenant of number three (a Mrs Brainerd) if she had any information on when the Dursleys would be home. The reply left the Hogwarts instructor panicking like never before.
"Are you from Child Welfare? Lord I hope so. It's just tragic what some people do as guardians these days. The Dursleys are at the funeral for their nephew. Knowing that lot, they'll be home around six tonight, stuffed to the gills and swimming in liquor."
"I'm sorry, but no, I'm not from Child Welfare. Are you saying Harry Potter is dead? How did it happen?" Minerva's frantic reply had Mrs Brainerd inviting her inside to discuss the matter sitting down.
From her host's slightly disconnected explanation, with the witch's extra knowledge of what may have provoked it, apparently Harry had fallen down the stairs and broke his neck within hours of the third batch of acceptance letters arriving. Minerva could only presume that one of his relatives had caught him with a letter and hit him, knocking him over the banister. After a few more prodding questions, she came up with the location of the cemetery the poor boy's body was being interred at today, along with the fact the funeral had ended over two hours ago. Mrs Brainerd also expressed the opinion that the Dursleys would play on the tragedy for months, using the sympathy to get preferred treatment from their neighbours. It shouldn't be assumed that the tactic would work, seeing how horribly they treated their ward his entire time in that house.
Giving her condolences to Mrs Brainerd on the loss of her neighbour (the only one worth knowing in that household), Minerva left and quickly made her way back to the spot she had apparated in at. Letting a new location fill her mind, she left the same way she arrived, only to reappear at the Leaky Cauldron in London. Tom, sensing the fury in the powerful witch, quickly gave her clear apparating instructions to the cemetery she was looking for, and held back any questions he might have had.