Chapter 11 – Prisoner of Azkaban
The summer was great so far. Papa Hagrid on his first weekend came to tell Harry how someone had caught Dumbledore unaware with a vicious exploding hex, and the poor headmaster had to have his nose re-attached yet again. And his eyebrows were burnt off - again. Harry snickered to himself - again.
Harry had brought home gifts for everyone this year – a beautiful gem-encrusted pendant of a lily he found in his vault for Aunt Petunia, who accepted it with tears in her eyes, and a case of chocolate frogs for Dudley. (When they were in private he also gave Dudley a naughty picture book he found in the adult section of Florish & Blotts. The moving pictures impressed his cousin to no end.) And Vernon was most thrilled with the 'stick thingy' hidden in a cane Harry gave him. The cane was topped with a beautiful silver serpent's head, and Vernon thought it was the most unique and classy thing he had ever seen. Harry figured that Malfoy would never miss it – he still hadn't found his memory at St. Mungos and remained a babbling drool-monkey. It wasn't Harry's fault it had been left in the Headmaster's office for anyone to claim.
Aunt Marge was coming to visit for a couple weeks. "Now boys" Vernon lectured, lining them up in the playroom, "I expect you to be on your best behavior. I want you to help walk Ripper for her." The boys held their hands out and Vernon placed a pound note in each expectant palm.
"I expect you to be polite and help with the dishes and chores" he continued. The hands remained out and he placed more cash in them.
"And I expect you to allow her to kiss you and pinch your cheeks" he finished. The hands were held higher for that one. Vernon snickered and put a 20 in each palm. The boys really did earn it for that.
Dudley and Harry grinned at each other. They adored Aunt Marge – she was rough, vulgar, and foul mouthed. She had no patience with pretension or silly expectations. Aunt Marge was cool.
"Harry dear – mail!" Petunia called from the front hall. Harry raced down stairs to collect a rather thick envelope, which he tore open with curiosity
"What is it, cos?" Dudley asked, chewing the head off a wiggling chocolate frog, much to his mother's disgust.
"Whaaaat?" Harry was gaping, and collapsed in a chair. His family gathered around.
Harry read the letter from his friend Hermione out loud while his family passed around an article from the Daily Prophet. It turned out that Sirius Black, a notorious criminal, had escaped from Azkaban, the wizard prison. Nobody had ever escaped before, and the aurors were clueless how this had been accomplished. But the worst part of all was that evidently Sirius Black was Harry's godfather, and Fudge felt that he had escaped to kill Harry.
"Why would he want to kill me?" Harry gasped. "This guy killed 14 muggles, some wizard named Peter Petegrew, and evidently betrayed my parent to Voldemort. And why do I have to learn about this from the Daily Prophet?"
"Time for target practice, boys" Vernon growled dryly.
"Time to mail Dumbledore" screeched Petunia. "What else has he not warned us about?"
But Harry tuned it all out. Black. Sirius Black. That name sounded familiar – but where. "I got it!" he shouted and dashed up the stairs to his bedroom. Dudley looked at his folks confused, and ran after Harry.
Harry was sitting on the floor of his room, frantically rummaging through an old wooden box.
"What's that, Har?" his cousin asked.
"Got it! Sirius didn't betray my parents!" He waved a handful of parchment wildly in the air.
"Wuh?" Dudley gaped at his jumping and dancing cousin.
"Right here – letters from my folks right before they died – I found them in my bank vault. They say that Sirius was not the secret keeper – the guy who could blab to Voldemort where they lived. Peter Pettegrew was! They arrested the wrong guy!"
"Wow, Harry. What are you gonna do?" Dudley breathed in awe. Smeltings was so boring compared to his cousin's life. Harry shook his head in a daze.
Aunt Marge chose that moment to ring the bell. It was chaos for a bit as her dog Ripper jumped on everyone with loud barks and wet dog kisses, and she jumped on everyone with loud shouts and wet aunt kisses. She eyed Harry after hugging her nephew Dudley.
"You're looking good, boy" she growled, and pinched his cheek. "Where do you go to school again?"
"St. Brutus'" he smirked at her, rubbing his face to get the circulation back.
Aunt Marge gave a snort and cuffed him one. "Seriously" she said.
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry" he shrugged, knowing she would take it as another joke.
"Oh – you're a wizard then? Good – keeps you out of trouble" she nodded in approval, bending down to give Ripper a treat. "What house are you in?"
The Dursleys and Harry all stood shock still and stared at Marge, mouths hanging open stupidly. "You know about the magical world, Marge?" Petunia finally spit out.
"Yes, yes – I'm a witch myself. Went to Hogwarts 1960-67. Vernon is so much younger than me, our folks decided to not bother telling him." She sat down heavily in a chair. "Boys – would you take my suitcases upstairs please?"
Harry and Dudley shut their mouths long enough to nod and grab the luggage. "You are in my room, Aunt Marge" and he made his escape, shaking his head.
The boys returned a few minutes later to find the adults crowded around the dining table studying the Daily Prophet and Harry's letters from his parents vault. Marge looked up at Harry and patted him on the head. "So you're really Harry Potter. Rumph." She gave Petunia a frustrated look. "If you had ever talked about your sister, I would have recognized the name Potter and been able to get Harry to you sooner."
"Er, well, I…" Petunia sputtered with a touch of embarrassed anger.
"Um, Aunt Marge – its ok" Harry broke in to break up the tension. "I love Papa Hagrid – he's affectionate and loyal – I had a good childhood. I'm just really, really grateful to be a Dursley too!"
"Right then" Marge looked him up and down approvingly. "You arecorrect – by your parents letters it's obvious that Sirius was not the secret keeper, and Pettegrew betrayed your folks. I thought the case was fishy at the time – they jailed him without a trail, and he demanded veritaserum, which was denied. Very fishy" she nodded.
She turned and looked at her dog. "Ripper – bring me my handbag, would you duck?" Ripper stood up, yawned, and trotted to the parlor to fetch the requested purse. Dudley and Harry just gaped.
"Ripper is your familiar!" Harry grinned. "Boy you are cool, Aunt Marge."
She winked at the boys and drew out a wand. "OK, Harry – do you know how to summon the Knight Bus?" The puzzled look on Harry's face gave her the answer. "No matter – I'll take you to the ministry. It's time you met our esteemed minister, Cornelius Fudge. He's a spineless fool – he will get the aurors off of your godfather's back if you threaten to expose this to the public."
"Ooooh – are you going near Diagon Alley?" Dudley jumped up and down. "Bring me some more chocolate frogs!"
"You like those things?" Marge gave a loud, unfeminine laugh. "I'll buy them for you then! It will be my pleasure." She grabbed Harry, transfigured his jeans into robes, and dragged him out the front door to catch the bus, Ripper in tow looking decidedly amused.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
It was a wild afternoon. The Knight Bus was insane – Harry and Ripper loved it, though Aunt Marge took several opportunities to scream at Ernie about his driving. She also whacked poor Ernie with her purse to drive her opinions home, which made the ride all the more exciting.
Aunt Marge was right - Minister Fudge was, indeed, a fool. Blustering, pomp and vain, he was at first thrilled to meet The-Boy-Who-Lived, hoping for public backing from the young celebrity. Harry, on the other hand, instantly disliked the man. After a long talk, Fudge made copies of Harry's papers and promised that if caught, Sirius Black would indeed get a fair trial as long as Harry promised to keep it out of the papers.
By the end of the week Ripper found Sirius in his dog-animagus form lurking around Privet Drive. He was brought home, cleaned up, brought to Fudge and pardoned. The Dursleys kindly invited him to move in for a while until he could recover from his time in prison. Aunt Marge left to go back home to the rest of her bulldogs. Dudley and Harry would miss her.
Although it was exciting at first to share your room and home with an ex-convicted murderer, and it was neat to find you had a godfather you never knew existed, Harry soon grew tired of living with Sirius. The man wanted to talk to Harry hour after hour about James Potter and the Marauders. Andthough it sounded way cool to be part of a gang of avid pranksters, Sirius expected Harry to be James Jr for him. Harry had never even heard of his birth father and mother until two years ago – he was grateful to the Potters, but in honestly, Papa Hagrid was his father, and the Dursleys were his parents. And though it sounds neat to be able to talk to an adult about school days, there is always something creepy about a person in their fourties who refuses to grow up.
Sirius was also a pureblood wizard who was totally clueless about the muggle world. Wandless, he felt frustrated and vulnerable. He was used to house-elves picking up after him, cooking for him, and cleaning for him. Petunia and Vernon were getting frustrated with trying to teach him how to use a hamper, shave himself with a razor, or any of the countless tasks muggles take for granted.
So it was with deep joy that a month later Harry heard Sirius casually mention he owned a home in London. Dudley and Harry traded meaningful looks. "Can we visit your home, Sirius?" Harry begged with puppy-dog eyes.
Sirius Black, who was completely unable to deny his god son anything when his huge green begging eyes were deployed, readily agreed and brought Dudley and he to visit Grimmauld Place.
Grimmauld Place was a pig sty for dark wizards. It was dirty, creepy, and unwelcoming. Sirius' mum had a portrait by the front door, and she would scream and yell like a banshee at anyone who came near. The mounted heads of ex-house elves decorated the hall. The door knobs looked like snakes, the portraits all leered and snickered at you, and there was an amazing collection of magical creatures living throughout the abandoned home. It was quite unlivable.
So Harry and Dudley snuck out of Privet Drive the next day and caught the Knight Bus to Diagon Alley. There Harry hired a witch interior decorator to totally refurbish Grimmauld Place. The work was done a week later, and Sirius, delighted with the fresh new décor, thanked the Dursleys for their hospitality and moved back to his ancestral home. Much to everyone's relief.
Harry was sad to see the summer end, and watched Dudley prepare for Smeltings with more than a little longing. "Wish I could go with you, Dud" he sighed as he started to build a card-castle out of extra chocolate frog cards.
"You're kidding" Dudley snorted. "You are famous; you can do magic and see all kinds of neat stuff I can't – why would you want to leave that?"
Harry knocked the cards over and lay on his cousin's bed, staring at the ceiling. "I can't say I really like the magical world all that much, Dud. Someone is always trying to kill me. My Papa is great, but he wasn't really all that good of a father – I was always getting beat up by his animals. I never know what is going on because Dumbledore keeps everything all mysterious and secretive." He rolled over with a sigh. "I hate being famous."
Dudley sat on his trunk to latch it and gaped at his cousin. "You hate being famous. Well, I'll trade you!"
"You can have it, Dud." Harry laughed, but quickly grew serious. "It's not fun at all. Ever since Papa opened his big mouth, everyone is always staring at me, pointing, asking for my autograph. Girls are all over me, and trust me – it's not that fun. They are all possessive and jealous and junk. I can't get rid of Ginny now – she hated my guts until she found out I'm The-Boy-Who-Didn't-Bloody-Die-By-Nothing-He-Did-Consciously and now she stalks me everywhere. Ron and Hermione don't look at me the same anymore. Half of Slytherin wants to kill me personally. It really stinks."
"Gosh, Harry" Dudley gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry – I didn't think it would be a drag. Can't you quit or something?"
"I dunno" he sighed sadly. "Uncle Sev explained to me that Voldemort isn't really dead. Sev used to be one of his followers and turned spy for Dumbledore. He has the dark tattoo that Voldemort use to call his Death Munchers with. He told me that if Moldyshorts was really dead, the tattoo would disappear."
"Well, that sounds like a great reason to not go back!" Dudley sputtered.
"It's not that easy" Harry groaned. "Dumbledore told me there was a prophecy made before I was born. I'm the only one who can kill Voldemort for good. So when he shows up again, it's gotta be me. I'd like to make sure my Papa, Sirius, and my friends are safe before I quit."
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Petunia and Vernon were lying in bed after a busy day of dropping Dudley and Harry off at the train station for their respective journeys back to school. Tears slowly dripped down her cheeks, and Vernon glared at nothing in particular.
"I can't believe what that Dumbledore has done to our boy" she hissed in frustration. "Telling a mere child that he has to kill the world's most powerful dark wizard, but not telling him how or training him!" Vernon glowered in agreement.
"I'm glad Dudders told us – Harry never wants to burden anyone" the man growled. "Now that his idiot father let slip his identity, and Dumbledore decided it was cute to let everyone know, his life has got to be torture at that school."
"To think I almost felt guilty for sending those letter bombs to him. Now I wish I'd made them stronger!" Petunia wept. "How are we going to protect Harry?"
Author Notes: Please note – I don't say what KIND of naughty book – it just seemed like something a 13 year old boy alone in a book store would do for his pals. I certainly don't condone 13 year olds buying and reading naughty books of any kind.
Also, I realize the Dursleys are so far out-of-character it's unreal. But as I said at the start - this is Alternate Universe. Welcome to my happy little private world of insane protective redneck Dursleys. Don't mess with them and flame me over this - I'll have Petunia send you a muggle howler if you do!