A/N: Fic Recommendation for this chapter is Hogwarts Next Top Witch by WildAngels. Here's the summary - Join Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Cho, and six other witches as they compete to be Hogwarts' Next Top Witch. Parody of America's Next Top Model.

"Hmm," thought Harry. "Why did Mrs Figg not look shocked?"

However, his question was answered when the old lady hissed – "Put your wand away boy. I'm going to kill Mundungus Fletcher,"

At Harry's blank look, she told him she was a squib. Remembering second year, he realized that Filch was also one, and it was someone born to a pureblooded family without magic. Looking at Mrs. Figg, he felt an instant pang of sympathy for her; he didn't know what he would do without magic.

"Oh yeah," nodded Harry confirming he knew what one was. "So, why are you here?"

"You don't think Dumbledore would let you stay here unprotected?" she gasped, leading both the boys back towards Privet Drive. "There's been a guard set up, rotating and Mundungus Fletcher was on duty tonight, of course though he decided to shirk off his duties like normal. If he hadn't left, the dementors might not have encountered you. Its not natural though, they should be in Azkaban not Little Whinging."

"Yeah, why were the dementors here?" asked Harry, personally he had been quite shocked at their appearance.

"I don't know either, hopefully Dumbledore should have an explanation," said Mrs Figg.

"Hopefully," nodded Harry, as they came to Privet Drive.

Noticing Dudley's silence, Harry was about to say something, but then decided not to as from past experiences he had found it best not to. After all, why go against the experiences of a lifetime on a whim? Now didn't seem the time to break his and Dudley's unspoken pact not to talk to each other unless absolutely necessary. In hindsight, it had been a rather excellent idea.

Walking down the street, something suddenly occurred to Harry. "Mrs Figg?"

"Yes?" she asked.

"All those times the Dursleys dropped me off at your house, why did you never tell me about magic? I could have learned about it much earlier, maybe even got the knight bus to Diagon Alley or something," replied Harry.

"Dumbledore's orders, he thought you were too young and that you should," was Mrs Figg's automatic reply. "The Dursleys would never have let you come if you enjoyed the visits anyway. Hopefully it was a break from them that wasn't too bad."

"No," agreed Harry. "It was definitely better than the Dursleys, nearly anything is. I don't see how I was too young though."

"Neither do I," pointed out Mrs Figg. "For such a renowned wizard, Dumbledore doesn't make a lot of sense sometimes with all of his schemes and plans. It was his idea to leave you with the Dursleys."

"I know," admitted Harry, as a burst of anger raced through him, remembering the time after another confrontation with Voldemort Dumbledore had chosen to tell him that information.

"Oh, that's another thing – how am I going to tell Dumbledore? He'll need to know, and I cant apparate. I doubt that he'll answer the floo right now either," mused Mrs Figg.

Now that's interesting, I never realized that there was a floo right next door to the Dursleys. It will be very useful. Maybe I can sneak out and over to Mrs Figgs once Dudley's back at home. I might even have that emergency floo powder Mrs Weasley gave me a few years back.

"Hmm," said Harry trying to keep his discovery and intentions hidden. "I've got an owl, you can borrow her if you want."

"No, I don't think you understand," said Mrs Figg, sounding stressed about the whole situation. "He needs to be informed as soon as possible, the ministry have certain protocol about this sort of thing. They wont let you off just because you're the boy who lived, infact they might go harder on you with everything the papers have been printing lately. There's all sorts of was that the ministry have of detecting underage magic."

"But it was self defence!" exclaimed Harry, before realizing that he really should have expected this from the corrupt ministry. "A dementor was about to feast on Dudley's soul, I couldn't just leave him there!"

"Yes, yes dear I know," said Mrs Figg in what she hoped was a calming voice. "It doesn't always work the way it should though."

Pausing, she muttered something about killing Mundungus Fletcher with her bare hands. As if on cue, there was a loud crack and the air was instantly filled with the stench of alcohol and cigarettes, and a scruffy looking man materialized.

"'Sup Figgy?" asked the man, looking from Mrs Figg to Dudley to Harry, confusion clearly etched upon his face. Something told Harry that it was an expression Mundungus Fletcher often wore. "What happened to staying undercover?"

Mrs Figg's face went from calm to shocked to furious in a matter of nanoseconds. "Undercover?!" she spluttered. "I'll give you undercover! Dementors! Here! Where were you during all of this?"

"Dementors?" repeated Mundungus, confused as ever. "Here?"

"Yes, you fool, and on your watch as well!"

Turning her attentions to something worth it, Mrs Figg addressed Harry this time, ignoring Mundungus – "I'll walk you to the door, just incase. If you need anything urgently, you can always ask me."

"Urm, thanks," said Harry, knocking on the door and telling her goodnight as she walked off. It was faded, but he could still hear Mundungus being chastised by Mrs Figg.

"About time too!" exclaimed Aunt Petunia in her high voice that annoyed him so much. Her expression rapidly changed when she saw the state of Dudley, turning her glare to Harry.

"You! You've been turning my son to drugs!" exclaimed Aunt Petunia.

Harry had to stifle a snort of laughter at this, it was one of the least likely explanations ever, he wouldn't even know where to get drugs from, but as usual he was being blamed.

"No-" Harry started to explain before Aunt Petunia interrupted him.

"If you must talk, do it inside – I don't want you making the heating bill go up anymore," said Aunt Petunia icily, although Harry had to concede, it was a fair point.

She ushered them in, pointed Dudley to the living room and then stood there expectedly looking at Harry, hand on hip.

"I don't know what's happened to Dudley, but I know something has. I know its probably your fault as well. Tell me what you know now!"

By this point, Uncle Vernon had joined them in the hall, and he didn't look pleased at all – "Well, boy, what have you been doing now?"

"I didn't do anything," said Harry indignantly, wishing that, for once, they would be on his side. "It was a dementor, they guard the wizarding prison."

Uncle Vernon visibly stiffened, as he always did when Harry mention anything about magic, but, he thankfully didn't say anything about it.

Also, a flash of fear crossed Aunt Petunia's face for some reason Harry wasn't quite sure of. His aunt had lived with a witch for her childhood, the soul sucking creatures must have been mentioned at some point. Oh dear, now Aunt Petunia might understand the magnitude of what had nearly happened.

"Well, I don't know why their here, but one attacked Dudley and I used a spell to get it to go away," said Harry.

"Hmmm," said Aunt Petunia. "I thought you weren't supposed to use magic outside of that school of yours."

"Well, I couldn't really help it," pointed out Harry.

Uncle Vernon was unnaturally quiet, and Harry was concerned. It seemed as if this would be just the time for him to come up with one of his customary explanations that lacked any logic.

"So, these dementor things, why were they here?" asked Uncle Vernon slowly.

"That's just the thing, I don't know," said Harry, trying not to seem condescending.

"Wait a minute," said Uncle Vernon, false realization dawning on him. "These dementor things, I bet they were here because you were!"

"No-" Harry started to explain, but was once more interrupted.

"It might be, Vernon, I've heard these creatures can go after freaks,"

"If he stays here, then he'll be a danger to Dudley and to us," said Uncle Vernon.

A look of understanding passed between the two, and a silent agreement was made, with Aunt Petunia verbalising it – "We want you out, you've got two minutes. Get your stuff,"

To their shock, Harry replied with one word – "Okay,"

Then, he grabbed his trunk and headed over the road to Mrs Figgs house, slamming the door behind him and trying not to giggle, things were going perfectly. Behind him, he saw the telltale red of a howler floating over to Privet Drive as well as an official looking letter…