Chapter Three – The Keeper of the Keys

It was abnormally cold for a summers evening. Outside, the wind howled so loudly that even within the confines of the cupboard beneath the stairs, Vanna could hear it. It was difficult to tell what exactly the time was, except that the television was no longer droning in the living room. That meant Dudley was asleep. And that meant it was well after sunset. Vanna couldn't be entirely certain how many days had passed by, but she didn't think it was quite August yet. And that meant at least another month before September would arrive and she'd finally experience some small slice of freedom.

Another howl of wind from outside had her shivering and pulling her threadbare blanket tighter around her bony shoulders. She clutched the ragged fabric against her body as close as possible, willing it to warm her icy skin. It was probably her birthday soon, she thought. If it hadn't already been. Her birthday was the final day of July - a Wednesday, this year. Not that it mattered. It wouldn't change anything and she'd not be receiving anything; unless it was another deadlock for her cupboard door.

Vanna couldn't remember ever having celebrated her birthday. The Dursleys barely ever acknowledged it and nobody else she knew had reason to care. Outside, Privet Drive was swept with another gust of wind and Vanna overheard a tree branch snap. She curled up a littler tighter and wondered, quite senselessly, what the weather had been like the day she was born. Somehow, she imagined it had been warm - warm and safe. If she were to believe in things like birthday wishes then that's what she'd have wished for. To be there, in that warm place, with her parents.

However, she was quite suddenly distracted from thoughts of soft blankets and maternal kisses, by a sharp cracking noise. It had almost certainly come from directly outside the Dursley's house and it was followed quickly by pounding, heavy footsteps. Vanna suspected that whatever might currently be in the front garden – it wasn't small. Before she could consider just how large it must've been, there was a booming knock against the front door. Immediately terrified, she'd planted her back firmly against the cupboard wall without a second thought. And when the knocking sounded again, she tucked her knees tightly to against her chest.

Upstairs, she could hear a frantic Dudley shout in alarm and thud heavily toward his parent's bedroom. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia emerged far slower than their son but Vanna knew they'd soon reached the staircase as there was a distinct creaking overheard.

"Who are you?" shouted Uncle Vernon, who'd moved no farther than the upper landing. "I warn you – I'm armed!"

Vanna knew just from the quiver in his voice he was bluffing. But, perhaps whatever was outside didn't, because it grew silent for another moment. There was a cautionary creak from the staircase. And then a deafening boom. Dudley yelped like a schoolgirl and there was a skittering crash as something landed inside the hallway. Almost instantly the air grew colder and a draft crept beneath the tightly locked cupboard door.

"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh?" boomed a deep voice. "It's not been a quick journey."

Vanna froze in place and resolved to remain so for fear of her life. Nobody had responded to the deep-voiced man, at least not at first. It wasn't until the footsteps sounded again that Uncle Vernon managed to speak.

"Sir, you are breaking and entering," he said, sounding raspy. "I demand that you leave at once."

"Ah, shut up Dusley yeh great prune," said the intruder.

Whatever happened next involved the unwelcome guest approaching the staircase. She could tell because Uncle Vernon squawked and something hit the floor.

"Now," continued the gruff voice. "Where's Vanna?"

Vanna couldn't gather the courage to continue breathing. Whoever the man was, he was looking for her. It couldn't be a dissatisfied drill customer, or a neighbour sick of of being spied upon. No, how typical that it was her who was to suffer.

"She's not here." said Uncle Vernon.

Which struck Vanna as particularly odd, as she'd have thought the Dursley's would've loved nothing more than to hand her over.

"Rubbish! Where else'd she be?"

"Out."

At this point, her fingers had become numb and she'd had to release the vice grip she'd held upon her own legs. Out in the hallway, there was rustling and then more footsteps.

"Stop!" shouted Uncle Vernon. Vanna noticed he still hadn't moved any father down the stairs. "Stop right there, sir! Put that umbrella down!"

"I'm 'ere to see Vanna, Dusley," came the response. It was growled.

"I told you, the girl's not here."

"I can find out, yeh know."

And for the first time, Vanna heard Aunt Petunia make a noise. It sounded halfway between choking and shrieking. Uncle Vernon did move down a step this time.

"No!" he commanded. "I'll not have you doing that freaky stuff in my house!"

Vanna released her legs entirely. Slowly, she disentangled her long limbs and inched forward.

"Freaky stuff?" boomed the man. "Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh. Yer niece is a famous witch, yeh should be proud o' that, fer cryin' out loud!"

Vanna let her fingertips brush the grain of the wooden door. Did she dare make a noise?

"Stop!" Uncle Vernon repeated loudly. "Stop, do not say anything further. I forbid it!"

"Yeh forbid it?" said the man, sounding offended. "She don' know... she don' know, does she? Don' know anythin' you lot were s'pose to tell 'er. What Dumbledore told yer to! I was there, I saw Dumbledore goin' to the door, Dursley!"

Yes, she dared. And she threw herself against the cupboard door.

"Alright, Dursley, where'd the noise come from?"

"No!"

Uncle Vernon sounded desperate but it proved no deterrent to the man in the hallway. Vanna could hear him getting closer.

"She will not be having anything to do with your lot! I will not have a freak living in my-"

Uncle Vernon fell silent in the wake of another piercing crack. Vanna scrambled backward as the sturdy cupboard door began to rattle quite violently. There was a snap and a pop that sounded like a deadlock breaking in two. The wood bowed dangerously outward.

It creaked and crunched and more locks snapped. And then the door was flying into the opposite wall. Standing it its place was a man just as giant as his footsteps sounded. Vanna remained huddled on her bed staring at his thick, shaggy hair and disheveled beard.

"Ah, there yeh are Vanna!" he exclaimed delightedly.

His face was swiftly overcome by a crinkled smile and his big black eyes seemed to shine. It made him look a great deal less fierce; enough so, that Vanna decided it was safe to breathe again.

"Look at yeh, so grown up," he continued. "Last time I saw yeh, you was only a baby!"

It sounded as if Uncle Vernon was moving again. At least, he was, until the giant man glanced up briefly and seemed to stop him in his tracks.

"Anyway, I've got summat fer yeh here – I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right. A very happy birthday to yeh, Vanna."

So it was her birthday, after all. And the man produced a box that was squashed all over. Inside it was a very large, very sticky looking chocolate cake that read: Happy Birthday Vanna.

"It's in green," he said, nodding to the icing. "To match yer eyes. Got yer mum's eyes, yeh do. Surprised yeh don' look much like 'er otherwise. Not like yer dad much neither."

"How would you know?" she insisted immediately.

"'Cause I knew 'em, course!" the man chuckled. "Haven't introduced meself, 'ave I? I'm Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

Rubeus Hagrid extended one of his enormous hands and clasped almost her entire arm. When he shook it enthusiastically, Vanna stumbled to the side and fought to remain upright afterward.

"I knew yeh mum an' dad while they were a' school, yeh see," he explained. "As good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Head Boy an' Girl at Hogwarts in their day!"

Vanna recognised that name instantly. "Hogwarts," she repeated.

"That's right, Hogwarts. Where you'll be goin', o' course. You'll be a thumpin' good witch once yeh've been trained up. 'Course, with a mum an' dad like yours, what else would yeh be?" he declared. "Now, where's yeh letter?"

"I don't... have it." she said, almost guiltily. "Anymore."

"Don't 'ave it anymore?" barked Hagrid, turning to stare at the Dursleys. "What 'ave yeh done with 'er letter, Dursley?"

It was only then that she noticed all three had come down the staircase. Aunt Petunia and Dudley were cowering behind Uncle Vernon, who had shrunk back at Hagrid's tone.

"No matter, I'll write Dumbledore meself."

Hagrid began delving into his abundant coat pockets and, in a matter of seconds he had produced a battered quill and a roll of parchment. And an owl – a real, live, rather fluffed up owl with beady eyes. Vanna looked from the owl to the parchment as he began to scribble.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,
Found Vanna. Will take her to buy things tomorrow.
Weather's horrible. Hope you're well.
Hagrid

Once he was finished, he'd rolled up the parchment and passed it over to the owl. Then the owl flew off, simple as that, with the letter clamped in its beak. Off into the storm via the gaping hole which had once been the Durlsey's front door.

"I have told you that she is not going." said Uncle Vernon. "She will be attending Stonewall High and she'll be grateful for it."

"If she wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop 'er." growled Hagrid.

Uncle Vernon looked truly outraged by this assertion. And Vanna wondered if perhaps he'd been offended by the strange M-word.

"Muggle?"

Hagrid turned back to her. "Yeh don't know what a Muggle is?"

Vanna shook her head.

"A Muggle, it's what we call non-magic folk like them. An' it's your bad luck you grew up in a family o' the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on."

Uncle Vernon had regathered his determination. "I will stop her all I like," he declared. "I've read that letter. She won't be having all that rubbish – spell books and wands and –"

"Stop Lily an' James Potter's daughter goin' ter Hogwarts!" yelled Hagrid. Aunt Petunia quite suddenly seemed to be choking upon her own tongue. "Yer mad. She's off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there an' she won't know 'erself. She'll be with youngsters of 'er own sort, fer a change."

Hagrid seemed to compose himself, ignored the Durlseys again and instead asked Vanna, "Do yeh even know anythin' about yeh parents Vanna? About their world? About the night they... died?"

"I know about the car crash," she said softly.

"CAR CRASH!" he howled. Vanna soon saw the umbrella Uncle Vernon had mentioned earlier. Hagrid had thrust it directly in the Dursleys direction. "How could a car crash kill the Potters? It's an outrage! A scandal! Vanna Potter not knowin' her own story when every kid in our world knows 'er name!"

"Every... kid?" Vanna asked thickly.

Hagrid grew anxious. "Ah, Vanna, I s'pose someone should tell yeh – but I don't know if I'm the right person ter do it. But someone's gotta – yeh can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'. It's best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh – mind, I can't tell yeh everythin'. It's a great mystery, parts of it... It begins, I s'pose with – with a person called – but it's incredible yeh don' know his name, everyone in our world knows..."

It became utterly silent then, and it didn't look as if Hagrid were going to continue.

"Called what?"

"Sorry – it's jus', well, I don't like sayin' the name if I can help it," mumbled Hagrid. "No one does. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went... bad. Bad as yeh could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was..."

And again he trailed off. He gulped loudly, as though steeling himself, but no words emerged.

"If you spell it-"

"No," said Hagrid. "I can't. All right – Voldemort. Don' make me say it again. Anyway, this – this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em too – some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was gettin' himself power, all right. Dark days, Vanna. Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches... terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course some stood up to him - an' he killed 'em. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway."

Hagrid looked visibly upset as he continued. "Now, like I was sayin', yer mum an' dad were two o' the best. Suppose the myst'ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before... probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side. Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em, maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Halloween ten years ago. You was just one year old. 'Arry 'ad just turned three-"

Vanna was slightly taken aback. "Harry?"

"Yeh aven't told 'er about 'Arry?" shouted Hagrid. Aunt Petunia looked as if she'd eaten worms. "Harry was yer big brother. You-Know-Who killed 'im, same as yer parents, when he came t' yer house that night."

Becoming emotional, Hagrid fished out a dirtied polka-dot handkerchief from one of his pockets. He lifted it to his face and, with a noise louder than a foghorn, blew his nose.

"Sorry..." he sniffed. "But it's that sad – couldn't find nicer people than your mum an' dad and, 'Arry, 'e was such a happy little boy. Should've 'ad his whole life ahead of 'im. Anyway, You-Know-Who tried – an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing – he tried to kill you, too. But, he couldn't do it. Never wondered how you got that mark on yer forehead? That's what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh – took care of yer family an' ter house, even – but it didn't work on you, an' that's why yer famous, Vanna. No one ever lived after he decided yer kill 'em, no one expect you. An' he'd killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age – the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts – an' you was only a baby, an' you lived."

And as if his words had sprung to life, Vanna felt a painful blaze across her forehead. There was the blinding flash of green. And, as her fingers curled against her sides – there was something else. Something that wasn't usually there; a high, cold and cruel laughter piercing through the memory between the flashing light and the black sweeping figure.

Hagrid watched her sadly. "Took yeh from the ruined house meself." he said. "On Dumbledore's orders. Brought yeh ter this lot..."

"And, Voldemort," said Vanna. Hagrid gulped loudly. "What did he do?"

"Vanished." said Hagrid. "Same night he tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous. Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on 'cause somethin' about you finished him, Vanna. There was somethin' goin' on he hadn't counted on – I dunno what it was, no one does –but somethin' about you stumped him, all right."

"Asked for what they got, your parents," Uncle Vernon's voice cut in. "Getting involved with those wizarding types. Weirdos. Always knew they'd come to a sticky end-"

Hagrid was instantly jabbing the umbrella in his direction. "I'm warning you, Dursley," he threatened.

"No," said Uncle Vernon. "I have told you, she is not going to that place. I will not have her turning out anything like those parents of hers. And that is final. I refuse to send her off to that crackpot old fool to learn magic tricks!"

"Don' yeh say nothin' about Albus Dubledore," said Hagrid, furious. "He is a great man!"

"Albus Dumbledore," came a high shriek. Vanna was surprised to see that Aunt Petunia had stepped forward with fists clenched at her sides. "I won't have her having anything to do with that-that man. As if he hasn't already done enough. It was one thing appearing on my doorstep with her – all because my sister went and got herself blown up – but waving his- his pointed stick in my face and threatening to remove my memories! Horrible, horrible man-"

Hagrid lifted the umbrella above his head. "NEVER-" he thundered, swishing through the air. "INSULT – ALBUS – DUMBLEDORE –"

It sounded as if a fire-cracker suddenly exploded in the hallway. Dudley was suddenly struck with a flash of violet light and begun hopping frantically on the spot, with hands over his bottom. Uncle Vernon roared in anger, or perhaps surprise, and pulled his howling son, and a very pale Aunt Petunia, up the stairwell quickly as possible. Vanna caught only a fleeting glance but just enough to see a curly pig's tail emerging from a rip in Dudley's trousers.

Hagrid stared down at his umbrella as the door to the main bedroom slammed closed upstairs.

"Shouldn'ta lost me temper," Hagrid admitted ruefully, stroking his beard. "But it didn't work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn't much left ter do. Be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwrats. I'm – er – not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'."

"Oh," said Vanna.

"Had me wand snapped in half an' everythin'. But Dumbledore lets me stay at Hogwarts anyhow. As gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."

Vanna glanced between Hagrid and the upstairs landing. "Are we leaving?" she asked, rather hoping so.

"Well, I've got ter take yeh ter Diagon Alley tomorrow," said Hagrid. "Gotta get all yer books an' that. So I guess yeh better get yerself off ter bed. It's gettin' late and we'll 'ave lots ter do."

Hagrid stepped backward, best he could without much room to move. Vanna inclined her head in understanding and placed her birthday cake gently onto the cupboard floor. When she slipped onto the fragile wooden frame supporting her paper-thin mattress, Hagrid's eyes lost every ounce of their shine.

"What this?" he demanded. "Yeh're not tellin' me they make yeh sleep in 'ere?"

Vanna caught her lower lip between her teeth and simply said nothing at all.

"DURSLEY!" Hagrid shouted up the stairs. "YEH GOOD GER NOTHIN' BASTARD! ONE DAY – ONE DAY-"

Just when Vanna was certain Hagrid was about to storm upstairs, he stopped mid-sentence. And then he was raising the battered pink umbrella again. It shook in his strong grip but Hagrid, eyes closed in concentration, didn't notice.

Vanna had expected another crack and a stream of violet. So she was taken by entirely surprise when she found herself thrown backward by some sort of invisible force. While she tentatively reached for the throbbing spot on her head and tried to blink away the dizziness, Hagrid extended a hand to help her up.

"Sorry." said Hagrid, sounding embarrassed. "I shoulda got yeh ter move out th' way. An' I didn' even get it right, either."

Vanna couldn't possibly respond, because she had been rendered speechless. Her once insignificant cupboard was now just as large, if not larger, than Dudley's first bedroom upstairs. Directly ahead of her the formerly chipboard wall was instead a sizable window, looking out onto a rolling meadow. And, where the rickety frame she'd previously called a bed had rest, was a thick double-sized mattress covered with a warm blanket.

It was empty elsewhere. And the floor was still concrete. Her mattress sat upon the floor; it had no headboard, nor pillows or sheets. Only two of the six panels in the window bore scenery and the others were a lifeless black. Vanna herself had landed upon what might've been intended as a wardrobe, but was merely a tall pile of splintered wood.

Hagrid looked disappointed. He let the umbrella drop to his side. "I'm 'fraid it's not ideal fer-"

"Thank you," breathed Vanna.

And it was all she could say. But when she placed her lopsided birthday cake safely on top of the wooden beams, the look in Hagrid's eyes said he understood enough.

It was the greatest birthday present she'd ever received.