Chapter 1

"Arabella Figg"

The aftermath that happened to Sirius Black from falling from the veil did changed Harry's personality towards everything that he could put his mind into. No matter how strong Harry got to be, how much practice he did to protect his loved ones from his enemy, Lord Voldemort, there will always be some sort of weakness that he cannot face. Instead of confronting these realities, he bury them somewhere far away – as though in a lost memory. Though Harry appeared to have the will to act and the capacity to save people, and that will makes him ready to fight, the past is his frailty. The death of Sirius affected him so much. It is no longer around him but inside him. The war is no longer a struggle to survive, but a struggle to forget. Harry can understand the long hard road he has paved to get where he is now, but he couldn't let slip the memories when he is with his godfather, happy and alive.

Those days of struggling are over now, but the imprints created in war's path remain an unseen battle.

As Harry recollects those memories, he is sitting on his bed, clutching a picture of his parents' wedding day, where Sirius could be seen staring back, smiling and waving along his parents. It's been two months since he last saw his godfather differently from the handsome face in the picture. But Sirius managed, for a change, to hastily tidy his hair and refresh his appearance after his breakout in Azkaban prison for being convicted of murder that he didn't do at all. But now, after getting so excited and upset over matters that are incredibly trifling, it all ends up in one aspect; the death of Sirius Black.

Harry was determined that all death was his fault, if it hadn't been for the stupid prophecy, his parents could still be alive, caring for him and loving him as neither of the Dursleys did for fifteen years. And Sirius could still be with them, laughing and joking around. But it will only be just a memory, pretending that it happened, but no… it will still be the same as how his life were running; starting from how he was being treated by the Dursleys and the taunts of his least favorite Potions master, Severus Snape, then overcoming those troubles he has been through along with his friends and the members of the Order, and the hopes that Lord Voldemort will be gone forever. That's always the cycle of my life… thought Harry miserably.

He wanted to cry but anger and sympathy was creeping on him. Crying wouldn't do anything, he said to himself, it would never make them come back to life… "NEVER!" he shouted across the now filled with bright patches of morning light bedroom. Harry kicked his school trunk and heaved his face with his both hands, feeling miserable. He never quite got the hang of talking to anybody when the moment he left Hogwarts. Even the Dursleys left him on that state, never cared. Maybe because the threat of Mad-Eye Moody last June affected them so much and feared that Moody might come back and do something stupid.

So at long last, when the sun had finally risen, the Dursleys didn't even bounded in his bedroom, to question him for his shouting early that morning or no one even called him to make breakfast as Aunt Petunia always did. Harry seems satisfied at this but for not calling him to have breakfast after an hour, seems to be getting too far.

He stood up and headed downstairs for breakfast. He reached the kitchen where he saw his Aunt making the chores and said hastily once she saw Harry enter the kitchen, "Your food is in the table, eat it now before it gets cold."

Harry made his way at the table and saw, to his surprise, that there are great deal of food left just for him, "Wow!" he said delightfully over the amount of food in the table. He sat down and began to eat.

Mr. Dursley was reading the newspaper in the living room and Dudley, Harry's cousin, was watching over the television while glancing at Harry with a combination of hunger and disgust. Maybe Uncle Vernon, before I went down to breakfast, told to leave me with more food, which is why Dudley loathed me very much… yeah, that would be it, Harry thought to himself while smirking behind Dudley's huge back.

Uncle Vernon didn't seem to notice that Harry entered the kitchen and was now eating with dignity when he asked his wife, Petunia, "Where's Harry?"

Aunt Petunia pointed his eyes on the kitchen table where Harry was. Harry looked at Uncle Vernon and was about to ask why when Uncle Vernon buried his face immediately on the newspaper. Harry swore that there's something going on, but he focused on his plate instead because his Aunt was staring at him, waiting for him to get done.

Harry seems to wonder how his Aunt Petunia would stare at him that long and that it really makes him feel irritated, so he grudgingly ate his food fast. The moment he finished eating, Aunt Petunia grabbed his plate and washed so serenely and no one even bothered to just make out a sound. Trying to ignore this, Harry quietly headed to his room.

Just as he threw open the door of his bedroom, a doorbell rung downstairs, leaving him standing motionless, listening to who came early this morning.

"Arabella!" Harry heard Uncle Vernon say, he shuddered at the thought: cats everywhere, mess everywhere, old, cranky lady. But the mere fact that the Dursleys didn't know is that, Mrs. Figg is a squib, pretending to be a muggle just like the Dursleys so she could follow the orders from Dumbledore for protecting Harry outside the wizarding world. It's also a shock from Harry to know the real identity of Mrs. Figg when the last time he and his cousin were attacked by two dementors between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk.

He thought of Mrs. Figg as a batty old lady at first, who always adore having great bunch of cats inside her house where you can't even walk straight but merely stumbles before reaching any place inside her house. But Harry seems to be changing his attitude towards Mrs. Figg. He never shows his abrupt change of attitude to Mrs. Figg from the Dursleys, fearing that Dumbledore's plans might be ruined – and that again will be his fault.

Harry sat comfortably on his bed after closing the door behind him, trying to hear the cheerful voice of Aunt Petunia in the kitchen, "Arabella! What a pleasant surprise!"

"Petunia! So nice to see you! I'm just wondering if I could ask a favor? See, I'm having a hard time at my house at the moment and thought to have Harry to help me with something and I think he'll be staying there for a couple of hours, isn't that fine?" asked Mrs. Figg sweetly.

Harry's stomach lurched on hearing this. Does that mean there's something Mrs. Figg wanted to tell me? Like a message from Dumbledore? Or from the members of the Order? Harry thought to himself, frowning. Or rather clean Mrs. Figg's house instead as what she favored from Aunt Petunia?

"Oh, sure! That would be fine. He's probably on his bedroom." said Aunt Petunia. "He never comes out of his room right after his arrival from – school. Would you like me to call him upstairs?" she continued rather far-fetched.

Harry gazed from the door. He stood up immediately and got himself a book, which is a Christmas gift from Lupin, entitled Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts and sat down, pretending to read before Aunt Petunia come in.

A few moments later, the door creaked open, and a thin, blonde hair appeared, along with her usual fussy looks. "Mrs. Figg is here and she wants you downstairs."

After telling this to Harry, Aunt Petunia made her way back downstairs not waiting for Harry whether he agrees to come down or not. Harry, however, stood up, closed the book where he laid it in his bed and went downstairs.

It was quite a while before Harry spotted Mrs. Figg seated in the living room, waiting for him while having a few chat with Uncle Vernon. "Yes… yes… it's outrageous to have those unfamiliar substitutes working on our department – ah Harry!" Harry entered the living room, and stood behind the door between Uncle Vernon and Mrs. Figg and saw her staring at him with humility.

"Nice to see you again!" said Mrs. Figg. "Well, we'd better get going then." she said to Uncle Vernon and stood up from the sofa. "Harry, why don't you come with me and help me with something?" she said sweetly while holding Harry's arm.

It was a bright day when Harry and Mrs. Figg stepped out onto the doorstep, flickering their eyes out from the light above them. Just as Mrs. Figg closed the door behind her, she smiled and winked at Harry. She withdrew a small envelope from under her shirt and showed it from Harry's nose. "Here, take this." she said to Harry.

Harry was about to open the envelope when Mrs. Figg interrupted and said in a whisper, "Don't open it here. You're uncle –" she pushed down Harry's both hands and said, "Keep it first to your pocket."

Harry pocketed it and muttered to Mrs. Figg, "What is it?"

"Later," she said while glancing left and right into the pavement. "you'll see." She then walked slowly out on the Dursleys doorstep while clutching Harry's arm. They walked a while in Magnolia Crescent and took right to reach Mrs. Figg's house.

The moment they saw the house, Mrs. Figg beckoned Harry in front of her and made their way at the door. There were a small bunch of cats playing outside the house and was trying to tear down apart the flowers that were beautifully cultivated below the window, which Harry noticed before entering.

Upon entering the house, Mrs. Figg immediately locked the door as Harry pulled out the letter in his pocket. Without Harry's knowing, Mrs. Figg went to the kitchen and left him in the living room. Harry opened the letter and read it. Its from Dumbledore… Harry muttered to himself. Maybe it has something to do about Voldemort or the Order… He concluded.

He sat on the couch, which was near the window, then came in Mrs. Figg who was carrying a tray with juice and some cookies. "Here Harry, eat these before you read the—Oh! I suppose you already read the letter." Mrs. Figg said when she saw the letter was open.

"Yeah." Harry said then stared at Mrs. Figg blankly. "Why does Dumbledore want to see me?" He asked.

"I don't know, Harry." she said softly. "Maybe he has something to tell you…" she added.

Harry took a cookie then stood up, went near the window then stared at the cats playing outside. He then again noticed the beautifully cultivated flowers near the window. "Beautiful…" He commented.

"Why, thank you Harry." Mrs. Figg said as she glanced at the grandfather's clock in the living room. "They should be here any minute now…"