Chapter 2: "Petunia's Apology."
"Hmm…", said the doctor for the umpteenth time he examined Harry's eyes. The boy sat still on the bed, twitching at the various tests he was asked to perform. He'd never been to a doctor's appointment this long, come to think of it, Harry couldn't remember the last time he had been to see a doctor, if he'd ever seen one at all.
"Hmm…" repeated the doctor once again, "can you please open your mouth? Yes, wide open…like so…excellent", said the doctor as he prodded Harry's gums with his utensils, much to the boy's lingering discomfort.
At long last, the doctor retreated to his desk seemingly satisfied with the results. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, he'd been poked and prodded quite enough thank you very much.
"Well, you are somewhat malnourished, but otherwise healthy as far as a boy your age is concerned." He announced from behind his computer, which wasn't exactly news to Harry. "You'll need specialist care regarding your teeth and eyes I am afraid, that injury and those cheap glasses simply won't do. I can arrange an appointment with an optometrist for next Monday, as for your teeth however, hmm…, I wonder…"
The doctor picked up the phone and dialled a number, "Hello Hermione, could I please speak with your mother? Yes, I'll hold." He said, as Harry took the que to put on his brand-new blue shirt, enjoying the feeling of the soft fabric on his flesh when compared with Dudley's ever stingy hand-me-downs. His brow twitched, he didn't want to think about Dudley.
"Why not?" Said a dissenting voice at the back of his head, "He is dead, never a whale more justly beached I'd say."
"I hope it isn't too much of a problem…oh thank you, goodbye." The doctor put down the phone with a clink, bringing Harry out of his dark line of thinking. "I've managed to arrange an appointment with a dentist clinic I'm familiar with on the 25th, tomorrow." He said and turned to the social worker sitting by the door, "I will call you later today with the details of both appointments."
"Can I see Aunt Petunia now?" Asked Harry, tired of the social worker's variations on the word no.
"I don't think that would be suitable", started the social worker, but the doctor cut her off, "I don't see any harm in it, we've done all we can, and I very much doubt she can abuse the boy in her condition." The social worker reluctantly acquiesced and accompanied Harry to the intensive care ward.
The sight that greeted Harry was not of his stern never smiling (at him) aunt, but of bandages and tubes. Beneath the array of medical interments, Petunia's chest still rose with the intake of air. "I think we should leave them to make their peace", said the doctor, almost physically dragging the social worker out of the room. For the moment at least, Harry and Petunia remained alone.
Harry didn't move to begin with, opting to observe each intake of breath, and the release that followed. After a few seconds of this, a drop of water fell upon Petunia's check, Harry looked up at the air conditioning system, and only shortly thereafter realized that he was the source of the tears. "I am sorry aunt Petunia, I did not…I did mean for this to happen, but it wasn't what I wanted, not anymore."
A hand crept over his own, Harry looked down and saw that Petunia, while her eyes remained shut, seemed to be trying to say something. Unable to hear her, he closed the distance between them, until he could feel the slight disturbances of breathing caused by the escaping air from the machine.
"... every time I looked into his eyes, I saw you. I knew that sooner or later, he'd be going to that school, he'd become part of your world, and I would soon be forgotten amidst the countless wonders. I could not go through that again, I dared not love him, and did everything I could to push him away. I am sorry..." With these words spoken, her mouth stilled, though her breath continued in its steady pace of decline.
Petunia Dursley née Evans, born 8th of October 1958, died 25th of June 1991, a loving wife and mother.
Harry placed the Lilies at the foot of the temporary wooden cross, that would eventually be replaced by a permeant tombstone. Two other graves, one large, and one small flanked his aunt in both directions. Marge wept by Dudley's grave, and even Ripper was strangely subdued for such a violent dog. "Goodbye Aunt Petunia," said Harry, and passed Marge by without a word. At the edge of the graveyard a workman was busy digging up a fresh grave, for death could only be destroyed when there was no body left to bury.
"Order, Order!" bellowed Albus Dumbledore, stunning his audience, unaccustomed to the old professor raising his voice. "Please, we are all very busy wizards, witches…"
"And squibs!" added an elderly looking woman dressed in muggle clothes, invoking an expression of outrage from the witch dressed in pink.
Dumbledore coughed slightly, "Yes, you are quite right Mrs. MacKinnon, and squibs. Surely we can discuss this matter without resorting to petty name calling?" Everyone appeared suitably admonished, even Lucius Malfoy, had the decency to at least pretend to be bashful.
"Now then, Mr. Malfoy, could you please explain the board's objection to the use of the Hogwarts allowance for this purpose?"
Mr. Malfoy stood, striking a pose as one hand held his draconian looking cane, and the other a sheet of calculations marked confidential. "Given the growing calls on the public purse since the early 1970's, we feel that supporting so many new students would place a greater weight on the allowance than it could reasonably be expected to bear."
"Than why don't we simply increase the allowance?" Asked Pius Thicknesse, head of the department of education. Lucius brought down his papers and smirked ever so slightly, "Given the complicated nature of the calculations involved in the allowance, I suggest that this question be differed to committee, and once it has met to discuss the full range of implications, we can reconvene…"
"At a later date," finished Madam Bones with a resigned sigh. "Since we cannot count on the allowance to equip the children for their studies, I have asked Gringotts…"
"No, absolutely not, we are not taking a loan from those cretins, do you not recall what happened the last time the Ministry of Magic took a loan from Gringotts?" said Lucius.
Bones clenched her teeth in frustration "Nine years of constant warfare and another three after the peace treaty, we where at the same O-level class in History of Magic Lucius, as you very well know. What I was about to say, before I was interrupted, was that Gringotts agreed to direct the assets of the well to do parents into a shared trust vault. The ministry will pay the debt to the affected children directly, with no middle-goblins, in a five-year instalment plan, guaranteeing the integrity of the affected children's inheritance by the time they are legally old enough to use it."
Lucius stared and Bones, who stared right back at him, and then sat down with a huff, "No further objections", he said, and seemed to lose all interest in the proceedings.
"Miss Umbridge, you are recognized" announced Dumbledore.
The woman dressed in pink rose and spoke, "I would like to turn this meeting's attention to the fact that since its creation, the Improper Use of Magic Office has addressed more complaints to the Edgar Bones Home for Magical Children than any other wizarding establishment. Based on existing data, I can only speculate that once the children begin formal education in magic, this rate might increase".
"That is a complete misrepresentation!" shouted Edith MacKinnon, much to the previous speaker's annoyance. "Most of the children are under eleven and thus cannot be expected to be in control of their abilities, and of the two children currently students at Hogwarts, we received only one warning for improper use of magic, well within the bounds of the law."
"Besides," said Madam Bones, "Isn't your concern exactly what your office is here to monitor?"
Umbridge stilled for a moment, but then summond sweet smile to her lips "of course Madam Bones, you are absolutely right, and I am sure my successor, Mrs. Chang ,will do so most thoroughly." she finished, though everyone translated her words to mean 'once I am undersecretary to the minister, you won't be able to order me around anymore.'
"Well, I think this meeting has proved most fruitful," said Dumbledore, but than paused, "Mr. Crouch, is there anything you would like to add?"
The Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation seemed taken aback at the question, as if he hadn't expected his self-invitation to the meeting to require him to speak in it. "Yes, of course," he said hurriedly, "Several magical governments have expressed their interest in the child home, and we might expect foreign delegations to it in the future. I think that this could build a strong case for international legislation on the subject of orphaned muggle-born children and their care in the magical world."
"Thank you, Mr. Crouch. Well, I for one think it is high time we adjourn, thank you and a safe journey home to you all."
The attendees dispersed, Lucius, Thickness, and Umbridge headed straight for the fireplace, MacKinnon retrieved a broom and headed for the window, while Bones waited to speak with Dumbledore. Mr. Crouch remained seated, alternating his eyes from his pocket watch, to some unseen development at the office entrance.
"Edith, you do realize that you do not have to fly all the way back England? Madam Bones or I could take you back home" said Dumbledore. The elderly woman looked at him and huffed in indignation, "I might be a squib Albus, but the broom is magical," she said, and sored into the air.
Albus shook his head in good humor, "thank you for attending Madam Bones." Bones nodded but looked at the vanishing figure of the pink lady, "You are welcome, when I heard she was coming, I suddenly developed a window in my schedule."
"Professor Dumbledore, Mr. Flamel is here for his appointment", announced professor McGonagall as she entered the office.
The current headmaster turned to thank his college, when he suddenly became very still, an expression of terror appearing on his face. "Albus!" Shouted McGonagall rushing to his side, "are you alright?"
Dumbledore shook his head, "forgive me Minerva, but I am most assuredly not all right, I fear that something terrible has happened to Petunia Dursley, the bond of blood has collapsed." McGonagall paled, "you mean to tell me, that Harry Potter, the boy who lived, is completely alone and defenceless in the muggle world?! How did this happen, I thought you said Mrs. Figg was watching him!"
"That is a question I would very much like an answer to myself, but this is not the time for recriminations, we have a ten-year-old boy to save," replied Dumbledore and turned to head of magical law enforcement. "Madam Bones, can we count on the assistance of the aurors?" The ministry official nodded "of course, but do not think I won't be asking difficult questions once this crisis is over. Do you know where the boy might be?"
Dumbledore turned to a drawer in his desk, and much to Amelia's surprise, took out a very muggle looking phone. "How did you get that thing to work here?" Asked Madam Bones, so strong was her curiosity, that she almost forgot the emergency they were in.
"With great difficulty," replied Dumbledore as he dialled a number. The three of them, and Mr. Crouch, waited for a few moments, until Dumbledore put down the phone with a frown. "Mrs. Figg isn't answering my call, I cannot say with any certainty where Mr. Potter might be."
"Can you write down a general area of reference and possible locations? We can then begin an organized search." Dumbledore did as Madam Bones suggested and handed it to her. "That is quite a big area to search, assuming he isn't in his relative's household, I won't be able to get enough aurors on the case quickly enough to do it."
"I will summon the rest of the staff", said McGonagall as Madam Bones and Dumbledore rushed to the fireplace to arrange the search, with the latter stopping by the entrance to his office, "Mr. Crouch, please remain here for a few minutes and keep your ear open for the phone, inform me immediately of any news should a squib called Mrs. Figg return my call."
Mr. Crouch did as he was told, and sure enough, a few minutes later the phone rang. Mr Crouch clumsily brought the device to his ear, and talked to it, "Hello? No, Dumbledore left to search for him, this is Mr. Crouch from the Ministry, he asked me to take note of anything you had to report on the situation." He said, as he noticed the sudden appearance of a white feather falling from no discernible source. He turned his attention back to a piece of parchment and scribbled the address he was given. "What is a dentist? I see, I will inform him right away, thank you."
Mr. Crouch than proceeded to leave the office in a great hurry, a departure noted only by a pair of two particularly old eyes. Rather than following Madam Bones and Professor Dumbledore to the auror office, he used the floo network to travel to the Crouch family estate. Once there, he rushed to the kitchen counter, put down the note with the address, and poured a generous measure of firewhisky into an empty glass, which he proceeded to drink in a single sip.
"I told you to come back in thirty minutes! what took you so long!" he demanded of the empty air.
A sniffing sound could be heard in the otherwise empty room, a house elf emerged from the invisibility cloak, a young man stood in a trance behind her. "Young master wanted to see his old Hogwarts house, but Winkey lost young master in the dungeons. Winkey looked and looked, and when she found young master, she came back as old master said, because old master said so."
Mr. Crouch ignored the elf's grovelling and took out his wand, "imperio" he whispered, causing the young man to suddenly smile as if he were the king of the world. "You will forget everything you heard in Dumbledore's office, you will not seek out Harry Potter, you will stay away from him and remain close to Winkey in the future".
With the spell done, Mr. Crouch started to move towards the bottle, but Winkey soon took over, and poured him another glass, spilling several drops of liquid as her hands shook.
"I won't take him to visit Hogwarts again, I know what I promised her, but its too dangerous. Besides, you didn't see their faces, 'old Berty trying to push himself into the lamplight again', that's what they where thinking, pathetic, to think this is what my career has come to", said Mr. Crouch, sipping his fire whisky. "I'd better deliver this note to Dumbledore. See to it that the boy doesn't cause any more trouble."
Mr. Crouch walked towards the fireplace, but he only managed five steps until he collapsed. Blood seeped out of his throat, and his eyes bulged in horror at the sight before him. His voice failed him, and soon after, he was dead.
A small grey elvan hand reached out for his wand and the discarded note, but as it retrieved them, the hand swelled in size, until it became pinkish white and distinctly human.
Note of the Amateur:
Against expectations, I managed to produce what I consider enough material to constitute a chapter in twenty-four hours. Like its predecessor, this chapter was supposed to be longer, but the last scene was proving particularly difficult to write.
As I intend to volunteer during election day in my country, I won't have time to complete the chapter on Tuesday, and thus, I have decided to post what I have ready now and incorporate the last scene of this chapter into my plans for chapter three.
I apologize to those that were looking forward to seeing Hermione and guarantee she will feature heavily in the next chapter, and in many others to come.
Thank you for your patronage,
A Lover of Nature.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. JK Rowling and any organization empowered by her to that effect own the Harry Potter title and its related products. Moreover, I consider that Carthage must be destroyed.