Chapter One
Harry huffed as he heaved another box of knick knacks and chipped dishes into the stack to be put on the lawn for the annual rummage sale. Ms. Figg had talked his relatives into the loan of his labor upon his return from Hogwarts. He didn't really begrudge her for his help, he knew he would spend the summer doing chores under his aunt's critical glares, so helping the cat lady that sometimes used to babysit him was no big deal. Ms. Figg followed him as he carried the last box from the closet to the garage.
"I think we can get a start on the attic then break for lunch" Ms. Figg said as she pulled a string to lower a set of stairs. With a surprising amount of agility she climbed the steep ladder chatting the whole time.
"It's just a few boxes up here, mostly my dear brothers old things, lots of books I'm afraid. It'd be nice if you could just Wingardium Levosa them down but you know, the statue and all that nonsense."
Harry climbed the steps thinking about carrying boxes of books down them in a few minutes time. He stumbled and nearly fell right back down to the floor when he registered just what she had just said.
"You know about magic" he asked as he scrambled up the last few stairs. The thought was strange to him, magic existing in the thoroughly non-magical world just a street away from his relatives house.
"Of course dear," she replied "I'm a squib, my brother was a wizard. He helped me start a keezel sanctuary when he finished Hogwarts. I agreed to move here and keep a watch for wizard activity after my brother was lost in the war"
Harry was about as confused now as he was last summer when Hagrid had delivered his letter. Somebody had been looking out for him all his life. He didn't know how to feel about that, he wanted to be angry, she must have seen how he was treated, but he remembered every time she had babysat for him and the crazy stories she told him as she flipped through pictures of past and present cats, err keezels. Thinking about it, he recalled her mentioning the name of the pet shop in Diagonally, and the horrible tonics she insisted he takes "to guard against the pox and other such things" she insisted. He was willing to bet that there were also nutrition potions as well. He knew how the magical world treated squibs no one would have even listened much less believe anything she said even if she had tried to tell anyone.
While Harry was reliving the past with a new perspective Ms. Figg continued to chat, not noticing Harry's mind wandering. "Yes most of these will probably end up right back up here, can't be selling spell books and auror stuff to muggles. We'll take them down to the kitchen and go through them after lunch."
Harry hurried through lunch, if Ms. Figg noticed she didn't say anything. After cleaning up lunch Harry set the first box on the table. He almost quivered waiting to see what they would find. He was let down when he saw glass figurines before anything else.
"Oh I haven't seen these in years," she said, picking up a matching set of clear glass dragons, they were beautiful and heavy. Looking closer he could see the detail. "They're enchanted, you tap one with your wand and it rings the other, then just speak. The other will chime and if someone taps it then you can talk through them, or leave a message. Go on, give it a try." She set the two figures on opposite sides of the table.
"Won't I get in trouble for doing magic?" Harry asked. His hand already reaching for the wand tucked safely in his pocket. He had no plans on using it this summer, but would never leave it where his uncle or cousin could get to it.
"You won't be doing any spells, just activating the enchantments already on them. They only monitor magic cast with a wand." She answered, waving him forward as he pulled out his wand.
Tapping the dragon nearest to him he heard the other give a soft series of pleasing chimes. After the second set of chimes Ms. Figg motioned for him to tap it again, so he did. The other dragon stopped chiming and the clear glass flames coming from the dragon's mouth slowly began to color in tinted shades of red and yellow, starting at the very top.
"This is where you record a message. If you don't want to, you just tap it again to deactivate it." Harry tapped it again and the tongue of flames on the other dragon dimmed and the creep of color stopped. "When the dragon is completely colored in its full and won't record any more." She gently pushed him to the other figurine. "They also make good baby monitors, just tap one then the other. My mother bought them when he graduated from the auror academy. Useful for an office with a receptionist."
Harry had tapped the other dragon and listened as it repeated Ms. Figgs instructions on leaving a message as the flames became clear glass again. He thought about a proud parent encouraging their child. Would his own parents be proud of him? Would they encourage him to do better? Certainly in school they would encourage him to do the best he could. Didn't everyone always say his mother was extremely bright and that his father was brilliant in transfiguration?
His thoughts turned to one of his two prized possessions. The photo album Hagrid had gifted him at the end of the year. To be fair, his mind was often on it when he wasn't actually holding it. He thought about all the pictures of his parents and their friends. So many pictures of smiling and happy people, he wondered how many pictures there were of him smiling and enjoying time spent with friends.
Ms. Figg had moved the dragon pair together at the far end of the table and was pulling something else out. Harry wondered if somehow magic was listening or if he had somehow caused the next thing out of the box to be a camera. It was silver and black with knobs and dials everywhere, with a long leather strap. "Can't use that," she said, setting it down gently. "Well I can, just not the wizard settings."
Through the next few boxes was a mix of enchanted items, sentimental momentos, useless trinkets, and spider webs. The next box was smaller but much heavier. Opening it revealed, as expected, books. Most turned out to be magical, a mix of defense books and enchanting seemed to be heavily favored. What appeared to be a full set of Hogwarts books for all seven years came out along with notebooks for each. Ms. Figg idly flipped through one at random and commented "Wilford was a Ravenclaw, he always wrote so fast it was barely legible." She closed the notebook and added it to the pile that had gathered around the pair of dragons.
Harry helped her pack the books back into the box they came from which held far more than could be explained without magic, the ministry of magic seal on the side explained it though. Next they began on the larger pile of things that would join the boxes in the garage of things to be sold. That was one way of looking at it, another would be Wilfords things, and not Wilfords things. Harry picked up the first box going to the garage and left quietly. Ms. Figg seemed lost in thought looking over her brother's things. He made three more trips to and from the garage as Ms. Figg packed the last box by herself.
Harry cleaned up in Ms. Figgs kitchen sink while she put on a kettle and arranged a few small sandwiches and biscuits on a tea tray. They settled in the living room in sight of the two boxes left on the kitchen table. They sat and chatted about Hogwarts keeping mostly on the topic of his friends and teachers, less so on classes themselves. Ms. Figg must have noticed something off about Harry's answers and poked and prodded until he confessed that he hadn't received any mail from his friends this summer.
Ms. Figg stared at him for a long few moments then sat back in her chair. "You've got a mail ward on you."
"How can you tell" Harry asked in an outraged tone. Who was doing magic on him without his knowledge, and what else did they do?
Ms. Figg laughed, "if you didn't you'd be buried in fanmail every morning." Harry thought about it and it made sense. He wondered where mail meant for him ended up. Then he turned his mind to how he could talk to his friends with a mail ward blocking everything. Ms. Figg sat in her overstuffed armchair and sipped her tea.
"Ms. Figg, would it be possible for my friends to send their letters to you, then I can come by and get them from you?" Harry asked with hope in his voice.
Ms. Figg looked at the hope on Harry's face, for something so simple as a letter between school friends, it was heartbreaking to see the poor boy she had watched grow in the harshest loveless environment. There was no way she would deny him. "Of course dear, just not too many, I won't have flocks of owls upsetting my keezels every morning." The smile she sent over the rim of her tea cup took any sting out of her answer.
Harry silently cheered, he had a way now to write at least Hermione, and she could pass on anything to or from Ron. "It will just be one person, maybe two, but one for sure." He smiled back.
Ms. Figg reached for the shelf beneath the top of the coffee table and pulled out a clipboard with a crossword puzzle book attached. She handed it to Harry and dug out a pad of lined paper with a grocery list on the top page, that she handed to him next. "Why don't you write a quick letter and let them know what's going on, I've got stamps and envelopes in the other room." She set down her empty cup and navigated a clowder of cats that had decided it was dinner time. "I'll feed these silly kitties then be right back."
Harry was already well into his first letter. He decided to write Hermione first, though it didn't really matter; it just felt right to write her first since she would be the first one to receive it. He wrote about how boring his summer had been and about finding out his neighbor was a squib, he finished by asking her if she would forward letters to Ron for him. He reread his letter and frowned. He added a post script
P.S. sorry this is so short, it was just to let you know that I'm ok and how we can send mail now. I'll send you a real letter tomorrow.
He smiled at his revised letter. He would write to her tomorrow and ask about her summer. Harry just finished folding his letter and stared at the next blanket sheet on the pad. There was really no reason to write Ron until he could write a proper letter to Hermione, it was only right. Ms. Figg came in from the other room with a book of stamps and several envelopes, and set them on the table near Harry's cold tea.
Harry caught the sound of a clock chime and realized if he didn't leave soon dinner would be late. That was considered worse than treason and politicians combined to uncle Vernon. Harry rose in a clear manner and began making his goodbyes. Ms. Figg stood and walked him towards the door, as they passed the kitchen entryway she pulled him up short. "I think you'll get more use out of those than I will with them back up in the attic" she pointed to the boxes still sitting on the table.
"Are you sure, they were your brothers things, I understand keeping things to remember him by." Harry hesitated. There were so many cool and useful thing packed into this boxes.
"I have plenty to remember him by at the country home, these were the things the DMLE delivered from his desk at the ministry. Go on and take them, he'd be happy to know they're being used and not stuck up in some dusty attic." She smiled at his thoughtfulness. Even if this was all she had from her brother, it would still be better in use by someone like Harry.
Harry went home that night two boxes richer in possessions and more importantly he had hope for the rest of his summer.
A/N
Batty old cat lady Figg sounds like she knows what's going on pretty well. Think about it like this, she was placed there by Dumbledore, it's widely accepted that he's intelligent. Why would he put a fool in charge of watching the prophesied savior of the wizarding world? Also she routinely goes through a muggle neighborhood, to a muggle store and buys, at least, muggle cat food, with muggle money. I'm also sure she pays bills, writes checks etc. How did Arthur and Hagrid do with similar tasks?