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Chapter 27 ̶ Magical Mistakes
"Let's go," I said quickly as my energy began to return. "Let's go before they come back."
Harry nodded, his neck stiff with tension as he pocketed his wand and moved toward Dudley, who was still immobile and whimpering on the ground. Apparently muggles could not recover from dementor attacks as easily as we did, even though I still felt like utter shite. Maybe it was because I knew the danger more than he did, and I was ready to get the hell out of dodge, who knew? All I knew was that we needed to get some chocolate into us and a good night's rest somewhere safe – but how could we feel safe when we didn't know why dementors would come to a Muggle inhabited area?
"No!" An old and panicked voice cried out. Both Harry and I turned, ready to fight again, though we quickly saw it was completely unnecessary. In front of us, panting heavily, was our grizzled next door neighbour, Mrs Figg. She was holding a heavy shopping bag around her wrist and was in fuzzy house slippers that did not match her outfit. "Don't put it away, idiot boy! What if there are more of them around? Oh, I'm going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!"
Harry did not move for his wand. I looked at her for a moment, measuring up the vision I'd had before I turned to Harry. "She means your wand."
"But-"
"Take it out, Harry. She already knows." Both of them looked at me in shock, I knew that I wasn't supposed to yet know that Mrs Figg knew about our world, but there was no use denying the fact that I already did. Visions were visions and emergencies were emergencies – this certain circumstance had a mixture of both. I looked back to Mrs Figg questioningly. "Who's Mundungus Fletcher?"
"He left, that's who!" Mrs Figg roared, wringing her hands and looking all about. No wonder we always thought she was batty, all this time she'd just been super aware of what really lurks the streets. "Left to see someone about a batch of cauldrons that fell off the back of a broom! Told him too I'd flay him alive if he went, and now look: dementors! It's just lucky I put Mr Tibbles on the case, he got right to your little kitty there – beautiful, by the way, Miss Potter. Oh," she drew out the sound, her nerves getting the best of her again. "But we haven't got time to stand around. Hurry, now, we've got to get you back – oh the trouble this is going to cause! I will kill him!"
"She knows about dementors," Harry said again, looking at me with wide eyes. I looked to her again.
"She breeds kneazles," I recalled. She looked shocked. "You're a witch?"
"I'm a Squib," she corrected bitterly. "As Mundungus knows full well, so how on earth was I supposed to help you fight of dementors? He left you completely without cover when I'd warned him-"
"This Mundungus has been following me?" Harry asked. "Hang on – it was him! He disapparated from the front of my house!"
I looked at Harry in confusion. "When?"
"You were already gone to the mall," he explained to me.
"Yes, yes, yes, but luckily I'd stationed Mr Tibbles under a car just in case, and Mr Tibbles came to warn me after he'd made sure your kneazle was on its way. Oh and now – oh, what's Dumbledore going to say? You!" she pointed to Dudley who did not move, or show signs he knew he was addressed. "Get your fat bottom off the ground, quick!"
"You know Dumbledore?" Harry asked again.
"Of course I know Dumbledore," she scoffed. "Who doesn't know Dumbledore? But come on – I'll be no help if they come back, I've never so much as transfigured a teabag."
Both she and Harry went to work trying to get Dudley off the ground. I didn't even offer to help – not that I would have admitted it was because I was weakened from the night, but Salazar's shit, I was weakened from the night. I needed to get myself home before I worried at all about Big D.
When I had gotten half a block on my own and noticed that Mrs Figg was no longer aiding my brother in carrying Dudley – who was easily three times his weight – I grabbed the lard's other arm and helped heave. A few times I was worried my feet would slide out from under me and I would be finished, but I kept going thanks to the urgency Mrs Figg kept ringing in the air, and Circe giving me a little meow every time I nearly fell.
"Stay awake, Dudley," I commanded. "I'll fix up something soon, just stay awake. I need to see the damage."
"His eyes are rolling to the back of his head," Harry commented lightly, grabbing his wand from his pocket as Mrs Figg began to berate him for pocketing it again. "I'd say there's more damage than he already had."
"Wonderful," I grimaced, swallowing the pain in my ankle. I think all the weight and the weakness had resulted in it being twisted. This was turning out to be my least favourite night of the summer – even more so than when I had taken a shower to have the shower head explode causing my subsequent punishment.
"Good, your wand's out," Mrs Figg rambled as we made it to Wisteria Walk. "Never mind the Statute of Secrecy now, there's going to be hell to pay anyway, we might as well be hanged for a dragon as an egg. Talk about the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery...this is exactly what Dumbledore was afraid of – what's that at the end of the street? Oh, it's just Mr Prentice – don't put your wand away boy! Don't I keep telling you I'm no use?"
Holding Dudley was more than a hassle, it was as difficult as climbing a mountain. He could not move at all on his own and I was starting to wonder if this was a lost case – maybe his mind had been scrambled too much for him to ever recover. Maybe even my potions wouldn't be enough to reanimate the sack of blubber.
"Why didn't you tell us you were a Squib, Mrs Figg?" Harry asked, gritting his teeth against Dudley's weight. He was obviously taking more of it than I was. "All those times I came round your house – why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you?"
The last part was obviously pointed to me. "I thought it was her news to share," I said simply. "And I've only known since the third task, so bugger off."
"I was under Dumbledore's orders, lad. I was to keep an eye on you, but not say anything, you were too young. I'm sorry I gave you such a miserable time, Harry, but the Dursleys would never have let you come if they thought you enjoyed it. And it was quite hard swaying Audrey's opinion when she was so caught up with my cats," she drew out the word on a laugh. For we all now knew they were not 'cats'. "When Dumbledore hears about this...How could Mundungus have left, he was supposed to be on duty until midnight – where is he? How am I going to tell Dumbledore what happened? I can't Apparate-"
"I've got an owl, you can borrow her," Harry gritted out again.
"Harry, you don't understand! Dumbledore will need to act as quickly as possible, the Ministry have their own ways of detecting underage magic, they'll know already, you mark my words-"
"But he was chasing off dementors!" I raged, already irritated with the idea. "He had to use it. Aren't they going to be more worried that they're darkest creatures are roaming the streets without their knowledge?"
"Oh, my dear, I wish it were so, but I'm afraid...Mundungus Fletcher, I am going to kill you!" As if she had summoned him by his name, there was a familiar crack and a terrible smell of tobacco and liquor. Circe hissed at the man that had Apparated directly in front of the four of us, taking a swat at him that he managed to avoid nervously. The short, raggedy man looked at us curiously with bloodshot eyes.
"S'up, Figgy?" he asked, looking at us all individually before shaking a silver cloak in his hand. I noticed quickly that it was an invisibility cloak. "What 'appened to staying undercover?"
"I'll give you undercover…dementors! You useless, skiving sneak thief!"
"Dementors?" repeated Mundungus in confusion. "Dementors, here?"
"No, over on Wisteria Walk," I responded unsympathetically. "Which is right where we just so happen to be coming from."
"Exactly, you worthless pile of bat droppings: here!" Mrs Figg was in a fit. "Dementors attacking these boys on your watch!"
"Blimey," Mundungus released a long breath, looking at all of us nervously. "Blimey, I…"
"-And you off buying stolen cauldrons! Didn't I tell you not to go? Didn't I?"
"I – well, see, I-" he fidgeted, trying to hide the cloak behind his back innocently. "It…it was a very good business opportunity, see…" Mrs Figg finally lost what little composure she had left before she started to hit Mundungus with the plastic bag wrapped around her wrist. It sounded like it was full of cans – probably for her many cats – or, I guess as I now know, kneazles. "Ouch! Gerroff – gerroff, you mad old bat! Someone's gotta tell Dumbledore!"
"Yes–they–have!" Mrs Figg yelled, taking a swat for each word. "And–it–had–better–be–you–and–you–can–tell–him–why–you–weren't–there–to–help!"
"Keep your 'airnet on, I'm going! I'm going!" And with another loud crack, the squat man was gone. Circe let out a hiss after he'd left, as if she was warning him not to come back. I smiled down on her before looking to Harry and starting to lug Dudley along once again.
"I hope Dumbledore murders him!" Mrs Figg began to rant again while she continued to lead us. "Now come on, we need to get back quick…I'll take you to the door." She waited until we had turned on to Privet Drive before she continued again. "Just in case there are more of them around…oh my word, what a catastrophe…and you two fought them off on your own! Dumbledore said we were to keep you from using magic at all costs. Well, it's no good crying over spilt potion, I suppose." She didn't sound convinced. "The cat's among the pixies now…"
"So, Dumbledore's been having us followed?" Harry asked with a pant.
"Of course he has. Did you expect him to let you wander around on your own after what happened in June? Good Lord, boy, they told me you were intelligent…right…get inside and stay there," she said as they reached Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's house. "I expect someone will be in touch with you soon enough."
"What are you going to do?" Harry asked, looking at her in shock.
"I'm going straight home," she replied obviously. "I'll need to wait for more instructions. Just stay in the house. Goodnight."
Harry was trying to get her to stay but it was no use – the woman was already bustling in her soggy slippers right through her door. There was a moment I almost chose to follow her. I knew that the vision I had seen had happened in her living room...but why would it need to happen now that I'd gotten all the information out of it? I watched her door swing closed. It was loud even from across the street. She must have been itching to hide, to get in touch with someone like Dumbledore...I should follow her, I should place myself in those brown rooms so we could have the conversation I'd seen in my vision from June – shouldn't I? What would happen if I didn't? Why did I have an option to change what had happened? What was I missing?
"Let's just get this over with," I sighed, turning away from Mrs Figg's door. Looking up at Dudley's green face rolling around his neck, I knew that I had more important things to deal with than figuring out why the course of a vision could be changed...it's not something that happens often. The light that was on in Number Four Privet Drive's hallway, both my aunt and uncle must be home. This was going to be a scene, obviously, and I just wanted to let it go so I could go to bed and worry about this all tomorrow. I was exhausted enough from the Magnuse I'd used today – add that onto a dementor attack and I was surprised I was standing, nevertheless supporting the weight of a half ton moron.
"Diddy!" Aunt Petunia's voice called as Harry rang the bell. There was no way that we would be able to drag him through the door without it being opened, one of us on our own wouldn't be able to support is excessive bulk. Luckily we could see our aunt through the front door now. "About time too, I was getting quite – quite – Diddy, what's the matter?"
I thought it was pretty obvious what was the matter. But just as she had asked both Harry and I turned to look at him, he'd really taken a turn for the – I jumped out of the way, right before he vomited and fell to his knees.
"Diddy! Diddy, what's the matter with you? Vernon, Vernon!" As uncle Vernon came lumbering into the hallway, I came to stand right beside Harry and let the adults deal with their deranged son.
"Are you okay?" I asked him, he looked at me skeptically.
"Are you?"
"I'm weak, but fine," I frowned at him. He could be so overprotective sometimes. "I'm going to make up something for Dudley, do you need me to make you anything?"
"I'll be fine. Make something for yourself too."
"I'll be fine," I mimicked. We stared at each other for a moment, trying to show our distaste for each other's attitudes before he looked at me strangely.
"How did you do it, Audrey?"
"What?" I asked, not meaning to play dumb, but the question was vague and I was already exhausted and disoriented enough.
"Back with the dementors, how'd you do it?"
I don't know how I could explain my moment of insanity in finding the courage to stick up for someone who had bullied me all my life, so I just shrugged. "Family's family I guess."
"No, I mean whe-"
"Him."
Both Harry and I stopped talking so that we could look and see that Dudley was now looking – or trying to look, he was having trouble focusing – on Harry. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were about ready to explode with red faces and furious eyes.
"Boy, come here!" He grabbed Harry by the scruff of the shirt – Dudley's old shirt, we never dared wear our good clothes when we knew the Durlseys would try to destroy them – and yanked him toward the kitchen. I followed nervously, pushing as rudely as I could past my aunt. "What have you done to my son?"
"Nothing," Harry said simply. Uncle Vernon of course did not believe him.
"What did he do to you, Diddy?" Aunt Petunia had somehow started to get Dudley from the doorway and on the way toward the kitchen had started to sponge the vomit of his jacket. "What is it – was it you-know-what, darling? Did he use his…his thing?"
Slowly, incriminatingly, Dudley nodded.
"What a load of bull," I yelled at the senile kid. "I saved your life, you miserable little twat, the least you could do is tell the truth!"
"I didn't!" Harry agreed with a nod of his head. "I didn't do anything to him, it wasn't me, it was-" but Harry was interrupted by the screech of an owl that burst through the kitchen window. Aunt Petunia screamed and Uncle Vernon had to duck as it circled me and dropped the envelope at Harry's feet. It didn't wait for change or for any sign of response, it didn't even stop to investigate me like most incoming and outgoing owls usually took the time to do…not a good sign.
"Owls, owls again! I will not have any more owls in my house!"
"Shut it, or I won't make your son the antidote." I hissed to my uncle, who spluttered at my tone, as I watched Harry's face pale while he read the recent letter.
"You'd better!" Aunt Petunia wailed. "Look what you freaks did to my son!"
"Where d'you think you're going?" Uncle Vernon yelled toward my brother, who, I now noticed, had pulled out his wand again and was walking away from us. Uncle Vernon moved to block his exit. "I haven't finished with you, boy!"
"Get out of the way," Harry said lowly, his voice more dangerous than I'd heard it in weeks. He raised his wand a little bit toward Uncle Vernon, but he was in too much of a rage to care.
"You're going to have to explain how my son-"
"If you don't get out of my way, I'm going to jinx you." Harry said simply. I almost rolled my eyes at him – he was ridiculous if he thought that threat was going to work this long into our imprisonment here.
"You can't pull that one on me! I know you're not allowed to use that outside of that madhouse you call a school." See? As much of an idiot as this man was, he was observant. I still took the time to sneer at him, ready to explain that I'd found a way around that little technicality, but Harry raised his wand even higher up uncle Vernon's neck.
"That madhouse just chucked me out," Harry hissed again. I opened my mouth in shock, grabbing the piece of paper from where his fist had closed around it. I tried to smooth it out so I could read it. "We have to run, Audrey. They're coming to take my wand – we'll be sitting ducks."
I wanted to argue that it was ridiculous, running when we already had a madman out to kill us – one who would knowingly send dementors into a muggle infested area – was not a good idea. But as I read the letter, reading that he had been expelled and Ministry Officials were coming to claim his wand, I looked back up at him with a lead chest.
"I'll fight them off." I told him quickly, my gaze confident. "I'll distract them while you take Hedwig and get away – go to the Burrow and I'll meet you there."
"They'll snap your wand too," Harry shook his head. I scoffed.
"Dash my wand, I don't need my wand for magic anymore! They can snap my wand all they want, they can't amputate my hands." The Dursleys flinched away from me.
"No," he shook his head, taking another step back toward the staircase. "You don't have the energy and no matter what potion you're about to make for you and Dudley-"
"Dudley will not be drinking any potions!"
"-you won't have the energy to fight them off. We have to run together, right now." But I would slow him down, I knew I would slow him down. I was low on energy and as much as my brother and I disagreed, with a madman on the loose I knew that it was fight or flight – and my brother could not fight for his life if he didn't have a wand.
Besides, I didn't doubt they would amputate my hands. If they could catch me.
As I wracked my head for a better solution, another sound filled the kitchen – it was like a crack, but sounded much closer to something breaking, much like a window. Which I could now see was caused by the dazed owl having just collided and cracked the closed glass of the kitchen window. Ignoring as Uncle Vernon began to rant and rave again, Harry crossed passed me and dove for the window, letting the owl in and taking the role of parchment from around it's leg.
Harry read it quickly as I looked from Aunt Petunia, to Dudley – who was starting to get some colour back – to Uncle Vernon, and back to my brother.
"Right," Harry sighed, looking at me intensely. "I've changed my mind, I'm staying. Get yourself and well, I guess Dudley, fixed up."
I nodded, watching as he sat down on the table and began to be interrogated by Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. I went straight up to Harry and my shared room, pulling my trunk out of the closet and grabbing my potions kit from last year. I was running a low on ingredients, so I'd have to become creative. I grabbed my pewter cauldron and rushed down the stairs, placing the cauldron on the oven and turning it on once some water was in the bottom of it.
"Potions? No! No, Dudley will get none of that and I will not have those in my house!" Uncle Vernon roared. "Get it out of here – get it out! Don't you need a book for those kinds of things?"
"Audrey's a genius at potions," Harry said for me. "Literally the best in the school, she knows what she's doing and if you want your son better, you'll let her work her magic."
"Dudley," I turned to him, at the same time as grabbing a cutting board. "Though I'm surprised you know what discomfort is considering your all-too-spoiled-rotten past, and since I can see that you probably had one hell of an internal battle from the dementors, would you like me to fix how you feel?" I couldn't help smirking to myself thanks to his wide eyes. "I'll even take the potion first to prove it's not poisoned."
He looked at his mother and father nervously, obviously they were very against anything magic related but with how green he still was and how disoriented, it was obvious to all of us that they didn't have much of a choice. What would the neighbours think if they had to take him to a hospital and couldn't describe his sickness? "Yes."
"Good choice," I said simply, turning back to the refrigerator. I was fresh out of peppermint, but I knew that Aunt Petunia had gotten some fresh stuff. I just hoped that she had enough – I didn't even know which potion I would make, but anything to make you feel better had peppermint. Should I make the Elixir to Induce Euphoria for Dudley? No, if I had to drink that too, it'd be annoying and I needed something to replenish my energy in case I did have to fight so Harry could keep his wand.
Invigoration draught it was.
"How come you fell over, son?" I heard Uncle Vernon ask. It appeared the interrogation of Dudley and my brother's little adventure had not finished yet.
"T-tripped," Dudley sounded almost as terrible as he looked. The dementors did get a good bite out of him, luckily they didn't get a kiss. "And then-" he paused. "Horrible. Cold. Really cold."
"Okay," Uncle Vernon sounded anything but okay, he sounded like he was speaking to someone clinically insane, which was about right in this scenario. I cut up the peppermint and threw it in the water that had begun to boil – that needed to ferment for the entirety of the potion. I got to work on the dried ginger from my potions kit. "What happened then, Dudders?"
"Felt – felt – felt…as if, as if..." he paused. I stopped cutting for a moment, the feeling seeping back into me just from the memory of it.
"As if you'd never be happy again," Harry finished for him. Dudley croaked out an affirmation.
"So!" Uncle Vernon sounded as proud as Sherlock Holmes, little did he know he still hadn't caught who'd done this. "You put some crackpot spell on my son so he'd hear voices and believe he was – was doomed to misery, or something, did you?"
"How many times do I have to tell you?" Harry asked, sounded like he was snarling. "It wasn't me! It was a couple of dementors!"
"A couple of – what's this codswallop?"
"De-men-tors," said Harry slowly and clearly. "Two of them."
"Dementors are the second most dangerous creature in our world," I interrupted, placing the ginger into the potion along with one cup of armadillo bile – the Dursleys gasped as they saw the potion turn lavender. I continued stirring clockwise as I continued. "They feed off of happiness, hope, and peace from the people around them. Muggles like you can't see them, but they make you re-live your worst memories – those were the voices Dudley heard." I stopped stirring to turn back to them, letting it sit for two minutes. "And they attacked Harry and Dudley. I came to help when I realized what was happening."
"Codswallop!" Uncle Vernon said again. "I don't believe you, if these things really were real, then you'd give me a better lie than that!"
"It's not a lie!" Harry growled. "Dementors are dangerous and they are very real. They-"
"They guard the wizard prison, Azkaban," had I not heard it, I wouldn't have believed it. My eyes widened as the silence spilled through the room. Aunt Petunia clapped her hand over her mouth, realizing that she had spoken that aloud.
"How d'you know that?" Harry and I asked at the same time.
Aunt Petunia looked disgusted with herself. She tried to send our uncle a silent apology as she shook her head from the reality of it all.
"I heard that-that awful boy – telling her about them…years ago."
"If you mean my mum and dad, why don't you use their names?" Harry hissed, but he didn't get a response. I turned back to my cauldron, which was now turning into a deeper purple. It was the proper colour at this stage but I was all out of spider parts. I looked around wildly, there had to be a spider here somewhere – all I needed was two of its legs and then I could finish the potion off with the last of my Mandrake leaves.
I left the room, going outside to the front of the house – I couldn't help looking this way and that, but there were no signs of any Ministry Officials yet. Bending down at the front of the house I started digging for spiders – I knew if I looked long enough they'd come to find me. Spiders were just like any other animal: strangely drawn to me. Not that I could understand it, but I liked them just as much. I didn't even plan to kill the spider – I just needed two legs…
By the time I'd found one, plucked one, and come back inside Harry was holding another letter in his hand, an owl just swooping out of the window. I stopped what I was doing, though I knew I was on a deadline for this potion and looked at him.
"What does it say?"
"I've got to go to a hearing," Harry said slowly. I nodded, taking a deep breath.
"Good, serves them right. I hope Dumbledore obliviated the lot of them." I shoved my nose up in the air as I walked to my potion, dropping the two spider legs into it and stirring it four times counter clock-wise. I grabbed my final three mandrake leaves and threw those in as well. The potion made a loud wheezing that cut the conversation behind me again. As I stirred it ten times clockwise, it turned from an indigo back to a bright cyan.
"How is it?" Harry asked, taking a look at it. I smirked.
"Perfect, as always. Invigoration draught. You should take some, too."
"Take some yourself and give it to Dudley first," he said quickly, grabbing two mugs from the shelf above my head. "If there's any left, I'll take some."
"Oh, no you don't!" Uncle Vernon's face was purple again. "My son is not drinking that…that…whatever it is! It looks toxic!"
"It's perfectly safe," I rolled my eyes. "I wouldn't be drinking it and have offered it to my brother otherwise. If you would like your son to return to his normal idiotic and bumbling self, I suggest you make him drink the entirety of this."
I slid the mug, full of the Invigoration Draught, across the table and right in front of Dudley. He had trouble getting his eyes to focus on such a bright colour, but he did not seem to trust me still. I took a seat where Harry had just occupied, sitting down in front of him.
"I know you can't see dementors," I said to him levelly, watching as he tried to bring his gaze to rest on me. "I know that you're really confused, and scared, and you feel weak as a dog – or at least you're more confused and scared than you regularly are...but that's because of the dementors. And this is the solution to it. A dementor's greatest weapon is called the dementor's kiss. When it kisses you, it sucks out your soul-"
"Cobswallow," Uncle Vernon murmured, but even he couldn't help but listen. Maybe it was because he'd never seen me be so brave in front of them, or so knowledgeable, but he didn't seem to have the gall to interrupt me.
"I used magic tonight too," I told Dudley again. "Special magic. Magic that only I can do. You saw it. You saw me push that thing, that feeling off of you-" his eyes widened. He had not really seen anything and I had not really used Magnuse against the dementor while he was watching, but I wanted him to trust that I was helping him. Besides, it was true that me pushing the dementor off of him had probably withdrew some of the demons wandering his mind...what can I say? I'm a saint. "Now this is what I'm best at, making potions. Best in the year, best in the school and I promise you that it will do nothing but make you feel better. So drink the ruddy potion before I stuff it down your throat – I want to go to bed."
As much as his eyes were still as wide as saucers, I was not amused by the pause he took. So, grabbing his mug with a sigh I took a sip of it. I made it animated and loud and showed him the blue stain it left on my tongue before sliding the mug back over to him. I took my own mug, already a little more energetic thanks to the sip and chugged it down.
When I was finished I clenched and unclenched my hands. I didn't quite have enough energy in me to do some wandless magic – that was only something sleep would cure – but I felt like I would be able to walk up to bed now and my mind was a little less fogged. I took a deep breath, watching as Dudley slowly – very bloody slowly – drank his cup and put it down.
Were I not to have seen this potion work before, I would have even gasped with how quickly he got his colour back, with how his eyes stopped being so glassy and he looked normal again.
"You're welcome," I told my cousin simply, pushing off from the table and making my brother a half glass with what was left at the bottom of the cauldron. "Drink it down, it's stronger than normal – probably the fresh peppermint." When he finished and gave me a wry grin, I sighed. "To bed, then?"
"Right," he nodded, looking to the other family members as we started to walk away. "Well, if that's all-"
"No, it ruddy well is not all! Sit back down!"
"Godric," I hissed, covering my ears. "And you think we're distracting? The neighbours over in London can hear you!"
"Dudley!" Uncle Vernon tried to remind us. "You fixed him, but I still want to know exactly what happened to my son!"
"Fine!" Harry yelled, his emotion not in check. Thanks to his terrible temper and his wand that was still clutched tightly in his hand, red and gold sparks shot out of the end of his wand. All three Dursleys flinched, looking terrified while I put my hand on his hand.
"Give me the wand Harry," but he didn't, he just kept talking.
"Dudley and I were in the alleyway between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. Dudley thought he'd be smart with me, I pulled out my wand but didn't use it. Then two dementors turned up-"
"But what are dementoids? What do they do?"
"Audrey already told you – they suck all the happiness out of you. And if they get the chance, they kiss you which is what they call it when they suck the soul out of your mouth," he reminded them with gritted teeth and impatience. "They didn't get his soul because Audrey showed up and for some reason decided to save the git. She pushed the dementor away from him and almost got kissed herself. And then she...well, I don't know what she did."
I gave him a confused look not understanding what he was referring to, but he didn't seem to have an answer considering he looked just as confused as I felt.
"And then you fought 'em off, did you, son? Gave 'em the old one-two, did you?" I rolled my eyes. Apparently me saving their son's hide meant absolutely nothing to them.
"You can't give a dementor the old one-two," Harry fought back another wave of sparks.
"Why's he all right, then?" Uncle Vernon bristled. "Who saved the girl? Why aren't they all empty?"
"Because I used the Patronus-"
Another owl. A different one again. While Uncle Vernon kept screaming about the infestation in his house, I stood on tip toes to read over Harry's shoulder – it was undeniably Sirius' scrawl.
Arthur has just told us what's happened. Don't leave the house again, whatever you do.
And that was it. Harry turned the message over again, but there was nothing else there. He looked at me, eyes wild with indignation. I almost asked him to give me his wand again, ignoring Uncle Vernon's continuing rant about owls, before his angry eyes turned to our purple faced uncle again.
"I can't stop the owls coming," Harry snapped, throwing our godfather's letter to me.
"I want the truth about what happened tonight!"
"We told you the truth," I growled back to him. "And frankly, I'm irritated that you keep questioning the fact I saved your son. I should have left him to rot with the way you lot have treated us."
"If it wasn't you who hurt him," Uncle Vernon bellowed. "if it was demenders who hurt Dudley, how come you've been expelled? You did you-know-what, you've admitted it!"
My brother took a deep breath, trying to reign in his newfound temper. I thought I was supposed to be the hotheaded one and here I was, actually protecting these people from the supposed 'good guy' who looked ready to kill them all. "I did the Patronus Charm to get rid of the dementors. It's the only thing that works against them."
"But what were Dementoids doing in Little Whinging?" asked our uncle, obliviously. I rolled my eyes.
"Yeah, if we knew why they were here, we wouldn't have all these owls saying that Harry's suspended. But we don't, so sadly you're just going to have to wait in wonder for the next catastrophe."
"Next catastrophe?" Aunt Petunia blanched, looking at me with wide eyes. Uncle Vernon rounded on me at once.
"It's you," he began. "It's got something to do with you two, I know it. Why else would they turn up here? Why else would they be down that alleyway? You've got to be the only...the only..."
"Freaks?" I offered his preferred term to him, which made him snarl at me.
"I don't know why they were here." Harry said simply, but I could see that his brain was now working in overdrive. I don't know why, Uncle Vernon hadn't told us anything that we didn't already know, or maybe I had been thinking a little more about the big picture than he had been.
"These demembers guard some weirdo prison?"
"Yes," Harry sighed. I was even more annoyed with how oblivious they were than he seemed to be.
"Oho! They were coming to arrest you!" Uncle Vernon seemed too pleased with his newest flawed theory. "That's it, isn't it, boy? You're on the run from the law! That's why you tried to get the girl to flee-"
"Of course I'm not," Harry rolled his eyes.
"Then why-"
"It had to have been him, Harry. Who else would have sent them?" I offered him, trying to put his mind in the right place. We didn't need to worry about these morons right now, we needed to worry about the next bad guy who would try to come and get rid of us. Harry nodded to me darkly, not pleased with whatever it was he had come up with.
"What's that? Who must have sent them?" Uncle Vernon bumbled.
"Lord Voldemort," Harry and I said in unison, not taking our eyes off of each other. We were trying to have some sort of conversation, trying to let each other know that this was now a thousand times more serious than it had been the day before – Voldemort had turned aggressive. So long went the ideas of his under-the-radar attacks and his lack of attacking in public like we had grown used to this summer. He was bringing forward a new type of battle now by bringing in dementors to silence what we know.
"Lord – hang on," Uncle Vernon almost looked pensive, though it was quite impossible for him to actually achieve that task. "I've heard that name...that was the one who..."
"Who killed our parents?" I offered in a monotone. They didn't even wince.
"Yeah," Harry murmured in the same tone as I had.
"But he's gone, the giant bloke said so. He's gone."
"He's back," Harry said simply, but somehow intensely, as if he were trying to get them to understand the gravity of the situation – which they never would. Not unless that green light hurtled toward them...the visual made me turn away. Cedric...
"Back?" Aunt Petunia repeated. I couldn't tell if she didn't understand or she was actually frightened – but as I looked at Harry while he nodded, I could tell he saw what I saw. That for the very first time – the very first time – we could see how Aunt Petunia was actually related to us. Why I shared her name in my own – because she was our mother's sister. And she had also suffered the loss of a family member through the wrath of Lord Voldemort...and that, just maybe, Aunt Petunia might realize a little bit of what his resurrection really meant.
"Back," I repeated in the affirmative.
"He came back a month ago. I saw him." Harry finished for me. She grabbed a hold of Dudley, not caring how much of her fear showed.
"Hang on-" Uncle Vernon burst the serious moment between those of us who were related by the chill coursing through our blood. "Hang on. This Lord Voldything's back, you say."
"Yes."
"The one who murdered your parents," he continued slowly.
"Is there a point to this summary?" I sighed in boredom. "Because I've been talking about this twenty minutes longer than I'd planned and I'm ready to fall dead in bed."
"Yes," Harry said, looking to me with a roll of his eyes. He was answering our uncle, not me.
"And now he's sending dismembers after you two?"
"So it would seem," I answered while crossing my arms over my chest.
Uncle Vernon had dared to look pensive again, but even as he did it his face continued to purple toxically. "I see...well, that settles it. You can get out of this house!"
"What?" Harry asked, my eyebrows had raised, but I did not say anything.
"You heard me – out! Out – out! I should've done this years ago! Owls treating the place like a rest home, puddings exploding, plumbing bursting, half the lounge destroyed, the floor caving in, Dudley's tail – his tongue, Marge bobbing around the ceiling, that flying Ford Anglia, dyeing our hair purple-" ah, one of my favourite accidents of mine. "Out! Out! You've had it, you're history! You're not staying here if some loony's after you, you're not endangering my wife and son, you're not bringing trouble down on us, if you're going the same way as your useless parents, I've had it! OUT!"
I was no longer looking surprised, but I could tell by my Aunt's worried eyes on me, that I must have looked venomous. I looked at her, using the force of whatever she saw in my eyes that scared her.
"You'll let him do this – take away the last portions of your flesh and blood? The last remnants that you ever had a sister? Without us, you three don't stand a fighting chance against what's coming for this entire world – Voldemort will kill you just for being muggles. At least with Harry and I here, you have people to protect you...but if you let him do this, I will make sure you will never see magic again. And that includes all the protection that has been stationed around this bloody house since we came here fourteen years ago!"
Aunt Petunia may or may not have pissed her pants by then.
"You heard me," Uncle Vernon was even more upset now that I had just berated his wife. He had gotten as close to Harry and I as he could – trying to intimidate us with his closeness. Close just meant an easy target for me and if I felt I had to use Magnuse, I'd drank that potion that had given me enough energy to do so. I was not afraid to do whatever I had to do to survive this blasted night.
"Get going! You were all keen to leave half an hour ago – plotting your escape and saying you'd protect him! I'm right behind you there. Get out and never darken our doorstep again! Why we ever kept you in the first place, I don't know, Marge was right, it should have been the orphanage. We were too damn soft for our own good-"
"Soft?" I screamed at him, anger rising exponentially. "You locked Harry in a cupboard – you'd throw me under the sink!"
"Thought we could squash it out of you!" he responded with a growl. "Thought we could turn you normal...but you've been rotten from the beginning and we've had enough of – OWLS!"
Another owl, I believe it was the fifth, came in from the chimney. Perhaps this was one of the owls who had come so long ago and delivered our Hogwarts letters? Harry raised his hand for the letter, which we could tell immediately was a howler, but it completely surpassed him and flew – to Aunt Petunia? She screamed and covered her face as it came toward her, but the owl simply dropped it on her head, turned, and flew away without so much as a second glance.
Harry moved to grab the letter, but Aunt Petunia got it faster and held it close to her chest, I couldn't help but smile at her and the red envelope she clasped.
"Hold it back from us all you like, but we're going to hear what it says."
"Oh?" She asked defensively. "I would never let that happen-"
"That's a Howler," Harry said just as smugly. "You don't have a choice."
"Let go of it, Petunia!" Uncle Vernon surged toward him. "Don't touch it, it could be dangerous!"
"It's addressed to me," Aunt Petunia's eyes raked over the writing. "It's addressed to me, Vernon, look! Mrs Petunia Dursley, The Kitchen, Number Four, Privet Drive-" and then the Howler began to smoke.
"Better open it," I encouraged tauntingly. "It only gets annoyed if it's ignored."
"Open it," Harry agreed. "Get it over with – it'll happen anyway."
"No," she said shakily – maybe it was because she was actually shaking. She looked around, trying to find somewhere to hide it, bury it, get rid of it...but it was not fast enough. The envelope burst into flames in her hand – she screamed and dropped it.
"REMEMBER MY LAST, PETUNIA."
The voice was terrifying, it echoed and reverberated and made all of my hair rise on end just from the sound of it. It was a haunting voice – but something told me it was not supposed to be haunting for us. It sounded like so mournful and dark that I couldn't begin to think who it had belonged to.
Our aunt, who had already blanched, looked the colour of rainless clouds. Her eyes looked as if it had gathered all the moisture from those clouds, but was refusing to let them spill. She shook as she sank behind Dudley, almost trying to hide herself behind his fat, staring at the ashes of letters in horror.
"What is this?" Uncle Vernon broke the silence. "What – I don't – Petunia?"
My aunt was too shocked to speak.
"Petunia, dear?" Silence. "P-Petunia?"
"They both-" she looked at her husband meaningfully, her lip quivering. "They both will have to stay, Vernon."
"What?" I think that was communal from every soul in the room but her.
"They stay," she said quickly, standing and straightening out her dress and apron. She did not look at us, but kept her eyes glued on her husband. She was trying to right herself and look in control of the situation, but she was failing miserably considering the shake to her hands.
"But...But Petunia-"
"If we throw them out, the neighbours will talk." She said crisply, smoothing out her hair with her hands that still shook. "They'll ask awkward questions, want to know where they've gone. We'll have to keep them."
"But Petunia, dear-" he seemed completely devastated that his hissy fit would go unheeded.
"Stay in your room," she ordered us without expression or glance. "You're not to leave the house. Now get to bed."
"No," I said quickly, holding my arm out to catch Harry's in case he'd give in but he had not moved either.
"Who was that Howler from?" he asked, looking as determined as I felt.
"Don't ask questions."
"Are you in touch with wizards?" Harry asked again.
"I told you to go to bed!" She looked nervous and furious again, she was completely unwilling to talk about it. I just couldn't tell if she was so nervous in an act of self-preservation thanks to her real family being in the room, or if she was too afraid to let the secret slip. I shook my head.
"Not without answers. You pissed someone from our world off, who was it?"
"What did it mean? Remember the last what?"
"My last," I corrected my twin. "Who's last?"
"Go to bed!" She squealed, stomping out of the kitchen quickly. Harry moved to question her further but Uncle Vernon's voice began to blare that we needed to listen to our Aunt and go to bed. We turned on our heel, realizing we weren't getting any answers, and headed up the stairs to our room.
"Could you tell who it was?"
"No, you?" he asked me, I shook my head.
"Eerie though, wasn't it? I have a feeling out dearest aunt is hiding something that we have missed."
"But how will we figure it out? The Howler's ruined." Harry sighed, shoving his wand into his pocket so that he could pull at his hair. I swatted at his closest hand until he dropped both of them to his side.
"We'll figure it out. Maybe we can ask Hermione if there's a way to look into post delivery or if we can track down whose owl it was – it was a screech owl, you don't see those often, they bother most people." I thought I could continue on theories that probably wouldn't work, but instead he stopped me on the stair, turning me around to look at him.
"How'd you do it?" he asked me seriously, I looked at him with furrowed eyebrows.
"Do what?"
"Back in the alleyway," he said slowly.
"Push Dudley back?" I waved my hand dismissively. "They may be dark creatures, but dementors are no less physical matter than we are. I pushed him like I've always wanted to push Dudley down the stairs."
"No," he shook his head. "I know how you pushed it – how did you put that memory into my head?"
"What?"
This was news to me.
"The memory of us on the train, it was from your point of view. I could see myself. I could hear you murmering in the background – they were your thoughts. How did you put them in my head?"
I looked at Harry nervously, my mind reeling with this new information as I tried to piece what he was saying together bit by bit. He had seen what I had been visualizing about the day back in the compartment? Had he seen the other memories, of Theodore, of the twins, of causing havoc?
"Is that how you managed the Patronus?" I asked quietly, with as little expression as I could compose my face. He looked at me as if I were loony.
"Of course," he nodded. "Otherwise all I could hear was Mum starting to scream..."
I shook my head at him, pretending that I understood. But I didn't. I didn't understand what he was saying or what it meant – I had put a memory into his head? I barely remembered what had happened – had I touched him? Had I been standing away from him? Had I perhaps said it out loud and he had just visualized it as I was describing it? I couldn't answer any of my own questions and I needed to go to bed even though my chest felt thick with the realization that something else had happened tonight. Something else which lead to another unsolved mystery that had to center around magic being done illegally and me – only I hadn't known what I was doing this time.
"You probably just thought of it yourself," I dismissed quickly, trying not to sound as stressed as I felt. He looked as doubtul as I felt. "Putting thoughts in your head is a form of Legilimency, Harry, and I know I can't do that."
Though suddenly, I was not so sure...
Audrey, Audrey, Audrey...why can't you just be normal? I wonder how popular this story is in comparison to my Twilight hit Forgetting Franki...do you think I could get more reviews by chapter 30 of this than the (approx) 325 it had when it was finished (for the first few months, that is). Do you think that I could ask for enough reviews to beat that record? I promise to release a chapter the same day I reach 330 reviews. The same hour if I have wifi. There is your challenge, readers! To those ahead of the race who reviewed last chapter:
PrincessK16: I wish I could skip some of these chapters too, I really just want to get into the Dreaco fluff and action...but then you wouldn't anticipate and appreciate the build up, and if I can do anything, I think I can build something up. I want to finish the series as quickly as I can. Realistically, not before the summer in 2013.
Erugalatha: I'm glad you feel the sense of foreboding and that it may lead to good things - I certainly hope I can deliver!
Novellavialli: He's coming, but not before Sirius :)
mjkcsk: Of course I'm posting! I couldn't leave you wonderful people waiting for long.
alwaysxlove: I'm back and prepared - hopefully you are too :)
Guest: I'm glad to be back, thank you so much for the review and compliments. I promise that the Draco/Audrey (Dreaco) is on its way!
xXMizz Alec VolturiXx: I'm glad you think it's interesting, I hope this chapter did the same!
WulfLuvr22: Yes, Harry usually is the driving force for all the drama the poor girl has to go through. Sirius is coming very soon, I think he's wonderful so I was sure to keep all his parts in!
Laurafxox: Audrey IS too epic to consider Dudley's little gang. Yes, there will be many twists and turns for Audrey's fifth year - I hope you're ready for them all!
xxz0eyxx: Thank you so much for waiting and of course there will be updates in October; multiple, in fact. Thanks for the review!
Magimagus: Thank you! Ah yes, the bowtran bean. Surprisingly, I come up with all of this on my own. I, of course, do a lot of research on Harry Potter to make sure that everything is absolutely one hundred percent accurate and do all my own research on potion ingredient and how it is made - but the rest that I can't find there, I make up myself...like Magnuse. Magnuse was actually the reason for all the pauses in the first part of GOF - it was so hard to plot out and make sure it was a constant, working and believable (or as believable as magic can be) kind of thing. That you appreciate all the detail is just a cherry on the cake. Earlier in the story Snape explained that Magnuse is supposed to be the ability to do magic without a wand or any touch but Audrey is only able to accomplish Magnuse with physical contact. This will come up later again, so don't worry.
Ron and Audrey were originally not going to get along in my plot. I love Ron's character, but I thought that the two of them probably wouldn't get along because their both a bit self-righteous and stubborn, but as the story went on they pretty much wrote their own relationship that is usually based on mutual teasing and mockery.
I'm glad that the darkness of Audrey has begun to leak through, this story will be very different from the last because of the loss of Cedric and the knowledge she has of the future - as you can already tell by the Mrs Figg thing - so I hope it comes through as brightly (or in this case darkly) as I plan.
As for Dudley - that will have to wait. I think I'll let that just write itself. I have a basic idea of his response, but I'm not focusing on that, I'm worrying about more important things like romance right now ;) I hope you liked this chapter as well, thank you so much for your review!
Oh no, Audrey's discovering new tricks again - they never really work out well for her, do they? Was that just coincidence? Magnuse? Legilimency? Please let me know your thoughts by giving me a REVIEW!
-Egypt
