Disclaimer 1: This is fanfic. That means I do not own any of it. I just borrow it to play with for a little while and let people see the pathetic results if they really want to.

Disclaimer 2: I'm not making any money from it. It's just for fun.

Disclaimer 3: What isn't borrowed is all made up. None of this is real or most likely at all realistic. Please don't trust any of the information in here. Most likely you know more about whatever I'm writing about than I do.

Disclaimer 4: Attitudes, views and opinions expressed by the characters or in the story are not necessarily those of the author. Even when writing Science Fiction or Fantasy I do not tend to attempt to create perfect/better worlds in which everybody gets a happy end ... or whatever is best for them. Please accept that some characters will have a bad ending or be unhappy.

Disclaimer 5: I intend no insult to anyone. If I offend anyone I'm very sorry. Please understand that it was an accident as I tend to be very clumsy in these things.

Notes: Harry gets to talk to Petunia and his mother.

Chapter 10: Kreacher's Tale

Despite a sudden attack of headache that reminded Harry uncomfortably of his fifth year at Hogwarts Institute it was wonderful to talk to his Aunt Petunia for the very first time. So wonderful that he didn't even mind being squeezed into a too narrow toilet cubicle with the broad-shouldered Dursley.

Aunt Petunia was delighted to talk to him too!

"Oh Harry!" she kept saying. "Harry, we'd hoped to get you out of that school for so long! But they wouldn't listen to us. Oh Harry, I'm so very happy!"

"I've wanted to meet you for very long as well, Aunt Petunia," Harry told her. "I'm sorry I chose an institute you didn't like. The headmaster said it was where my parents had gone, though. And that they were dead and ... I wanted to do what they'd wanted me to."

"Shameless manipulation of a poor little child," Aunt Petunia declared. "You shouldn't have been given the choice at all. You were much too young to understand what you were doing."

"Is Uncle Vernon with you?" Harry asked a little while later. "I'd love to get to know him, too."

"Oh, you little darling!" Aunt Petunia exclaimed. "I'm afraid he's still at work. But I promise we'll have a proper family meeting some weekend after the exams and he'll be there. We could even make it a birthday celebration for you and of course a celebration of your liberation from that horrible institute."

Harry wasn't sure why she thought Hogwarts so very horrible, but it didn't matter. She had his mother's phone number and she wanted to know him! She was happy that he was back in the Muggle world where she could meet him. That was some consolation for having done so badly in his classes today.

Dursley saved the number on his phone, but after checking the time insisted that they'd already taken too long talking to his mother to still call Harry's today.

"We'll do it tomorrow evening," he promised. "It'll be something to look forward to."

Harry had to agree that he'd probably need that, but the next morning he discovered that he had only one class that day and while he didn't understand a word of what the professor said and didn't even have Dursley there to comfort him with his friendly presence he also didn't embarrass himself as the professor never called on him. He didn't even seem to notice that there was a new face in his class at all.

It rather reminded Harry of History of Magic at Hogwarts, where Professor Binns could never even remember his students' names.

Harry decided that it was quite a bit of good luck, took as many notes as he could and then returned to his dorm getting lost on his way twice, but finding it at last. The room was empty. Apparently his new dorm-mates were all in class or maybe off to meet friends.

So Harry got out one of his study programs again and after some trial and error remembered how to start it. It gave him a moment of triumph when the window opened, but that was short-lived. He soon had to realise that he had forgotten a lot of his primary school Math.

How long would it take him to catch up on six years of Math at his current learning rate?

He'd have to ask for a full set of study programs for each of his subjects for his birthday, quite a lot of gifts. Hopefully his family would understand how much he needed them.

When his dorm-mates returned there was some laughter about the simplicity of his revision material.

"You'll never be ready in time for exams if you start that far back," Harper said. "They are on this year's material."

"I have little chance of passing those anyway," Harry admitted. "I don't understand anything in class. It's all so different here and there is too little time. I'm going to revise everything to be ready in time for the NEWTs."

"The what?" Harper stared at him.

Oh right! What were the Muggle exams called again?

"The ... you know, next year's exams. We called them NEWTs at Hogwarts Institute. Just a silly little joke."

Harper still looked bewildered, but luckily didn't ask him to explain the joke.

Dursley didn't come up before lunch, but luckily Napier was there to lead Harry to the 'mess' as the place was actually called. After the experience of erring about on his own after class Harry wasn't eager to try to find his way there by himself. If he got lost again he might just arrive too late to get any food and he was hungry.

Dursley already was there and ate with them, but he had Boxing training right after lunch and the others all had French.

So Harry once again had to set out for the dorm alone and against the stream of boys hurrying to various classes. Just when he thought he'd finally fought his way through the masses and was taking a relieved breath a sudden sharp pain shot through his scar and his head felt as if it were about to split. Just what he needed!

He leaned against a wall and closed his eyes for a minute or so, but it didn't get any better and he had important studying to do!

So he opened his eyes again and started looking for his dorm despite the pain. This time he got lost five times and the headache didn't exactly help his Math skills either. Eventually it subsided to a dull throbbing that he was almost used to from his fifth year. He could at least manage to study in this state.

Still his progress was slower than he'd have liked and he was quite glad for the distraction of dinner and the phone call to his mother.

Much to his delight he found that she had even been worried about him and was for once more interested in talking about him then about Mafalda even though she was still at Hogwarts and ... "Oh Harry, the Death Eaters took over the Ministry today. Claudius and I are packing right now. We are moving into his work flat in Glasgow and I will probably get a Muggle job there as well. That way we can cut all ties with the wizarding world and disappear."

For a moment Harry felt relieved that his family would be safe, but then it came to him.

"But Mother! What about Mafalda? Are you just leaving her behind?" he asked.

"She is only twelve now and knows nothing about us so they have no reason to question her and with any luck the war will be over before she turns sixteen. She'll be fine ... we hope."

Oh dear! Harry could only hope that she was right. Mafalda still was the daughter of a squib and a Muggle-born even though she had been raised entirely in the magical world.

"Did you get my things? My wand and the other magical stuff, I mean," Harry asked. "And is Hedwig with you?"

"We got a package containing all sorts of odds and ends," his mother reported. "But there was no wand in it. And who's Hedwig?"

"The wand ought to have arrived separately," Harry explained. "I forgot to put it in when I posted the package. Professor Flittwick found it when he checked my luggage and said it would be sent with the package, but Hedwig had already left with it. Hedwig's my owl. She hasn't arrived here yet."

"No, we didn't get the wand. We didn't get any mail from the institute. As far as they are concerned your father is responsible for you so they probably sent it to him."

That was a terrible blow.

"And Hedwig?" Harry asked, voice shaking.

"Well ... she might be with your father as well," his mother said a little hesitantly. "And that is for the best. Muggles don't keep owls as pets, Harry. You can't keep her at the institute and we couldn't keep her in the Muggle flat either. We can keep your magical books and toys in the box and lock it in a cupboard so no Muggle visitor will see them, but an owl needs room to move about and fly."

No wand, no Hedwig and You-Know-Who had taken over, so attempting to contact his friends at Hogwarts per Muggle post would probably be too dangerous as well.

"What's all this stuff about magic and wands? And who is Hedwig? I thought your sister's called Mafalda?"

And to top it all off Harry had forgotten that Dursley was listening to every word he said to his mother. Now he'd have to explain the wizarding world to a Muggle and hope that he would be believed and not declared insane.