Wandless, Wordless Magic
Ch3
"Mister Potter I presume…"
The words were spoken crisply, properly, and if he wasn't much mistaken, a smidgen reproachfully.
"er.. Yes Ma'am?"
The boy said back nervously. Harry was both familiar and not, with the countenance before him.
Oh he definitely didn't know who this lady was, with her prim, proper, and old fashioned business attire,
but he was well familiar with her demeaner.
That look that said he'd wronged that person somehow. The one that said 'I'm watching you… carefully…'.
His Aunt sported it often, the teachers at primary as well, undeserved though it may be.
In this case however, if Harry were to ask, he'd find that coming from this woman, it was well earned. What with his fathers renowned propensity for trouble and the less-than-fortunate beginning to his communications with the woman before him. How was he to know that his wax-substitute had gotten stuck in the woman's hair only a few days ago?
"My name is Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. I'm here to.."
The professor began to introduce herself but was swiftly interrupted.
"OH! You got my letter! Oh er.. Mrs. McGonagall Ma'am, could you er.. talk my Aunt and Uncle round to letting me go to Hogwarts? And maybe explain magic to them 'cause I don't think they know about it but they really don't like anything abnormal and 'm worried they'd get real upset if I said I have magic y'know?"
The raven-haired boy blurted out as soon as he'd understood who the lady before him was.
"if I said I have magic.."? Minerva thought to herself in surprise. The Dursley's hadn't spoken to him about his magic? His heritage?!
"Whatever do you mean Mr. Potter? Your mother was a witch and I know for a fact your Aunt has corresponded with the Headmaster before." The austere woman said in response, still reeling from the idea that nobody had bothered to explain things to the boy before her.
A light gasp escaped Harry's mouth as he took that precious fact in. "My mum was a witch too?" Harry asked with wide, innocent eyes.
Feeling pity and ire rising in equal measure, Minerva relaxed her severe expression by several degree's. None could say it was warm exactly, but it was discernably gentler and kind when she responded;
"Of course she was Mr. Potter, and your father a Wizard. Some of the best of the modern day too."
Harry was reverently processing those words when an unwelcome bellow ruined the moment.
"BOY! Who is it at the door!" Harry's Uncle Vernon shouted from the sitting room down the hall.
Stiffening ever so slightly and breaking from his reverie, Harry entreated the witch before him.
"Mrs. McGonagall, would you please help me with my relatives?" Harry said in a small, desperate plea.
Given that that was specifically what Minerva was doing at number 4 privet drive, she had no qualms acceding to the boys wish.
"Of course Mr. Potter, you would know that was my purpose here to begin with had you let me finish introducing myself." She said with a raised eyebrow and an ever-so-slightly pursed quirk of her lips.
Properly chastised, the boy nervously chuckled a bit and shrugged in discomfort. "Ah sorry bout that Mrs. McGonagall, I wa-"
"BOY!" Uncle Vernon interrupted his apology, startling the green eyed youth with a jolt.
"It's er.. There's a lady here to see you and Aunt Petunia, Uncle!" Harry shouted back with feigned gaiety. Eliciting an unimpressed eyebrow to climb slightly higher on Minerva's forehead.
"How very Gryffindor Mr. Potter," Minerva began witheringly, "Will you allow me to enter your home? Or shall we converse at the step?"
Confused at the reference but more than happy to oblige, Harry promptly shot back
"Oh of course! Please come in, sorry 'bout that." The words spoken hastily, Harry put word to deed by opening the door wide and beckoning the professor inside.
Entering confidently, Minerva took in her surroundings. Quite the normal setting for an average, well-to-do Muggle home, she thought. Something seemed off about the pictures lining the walls of the hall, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
Harry quickly guided his guest down the hall to the sitting room, where-upon Minerva made her first observation in just under a decade of the Dursleys. Vernon was focused solely upon the television, chair reclined and excess.. body-mass shall we say, hanging over the sides of his seat. Petunia Evans nee Dursley had just come through the adjoining room to meet their surprise visitor.
The pinched-faced woman seemed unimpressed by the outdated attire that Minerva wore, but of course the Witch could not care less about what these people thought of her.
"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, my name is Minerva McGonagall, and I am the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'm here to discuss Mr. Potter's future schooling."
One might be forgiven for thinking the professor had instead said "I'm a dirty heathen Satan-Worshipper and I'm here to fornicate with your spoons" if one were to observe the response her polite introduction induced.
Vernon swiftly and inelegantly swept from his seat, knocking aside a lamp and pushing the recliner back and astray. Petunia flushed crimson, then paled dramatically, her mouth gaping open and closed like a fish as she struggled to utter her deepest reproach for such a thing. Dudley of course was likely out kicking puppies or some other such reprehensible thing with his nasty little friends and as such, was not able to contribute to the calamity that had just befallen his home.
Distinctly unimpressed with this reception, Minerva quickly bit out a reprimand to the muggle couple.
"Oh honestly, it's just magic Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, nothing to get so worked up over."
But of course the professor had made a grave mistake there, using the dread M-word.
"THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS MAGIC YOU CRAZY PERSON!" Vernon bellowed, spittle flying and blood viscerally pumping behind the pasty skin of his face. A cold sweat had broken out on the man and he was feeling slightly light-headed. He braced himself with his hand on the seat beside him, or so he attempted, but Vernon's quick movements earlier had dislodged his former seat from it's regular place and his hand missed, causing the man to fall forward with a large crash that actually shook the room.
Embarrassed and now aching in his left arm, Vernon swiftly tried to stand only to find that his light-headedness had become severe, and that his arms no longer held the strength to support him.
Slumping forward again and not quite understanding what was happening to himself, Vernon began a sort of short-circuit cycle of trying to raise himself up off the floor, only partially succeeding each time.
It was honestly disconcerting and a little bit scary for the other occupants of the room, seeing a practically frothing-at-the-mouth furious, blazing red, sweating, whale of a man doing some sort of strange push-up like exercise on the floor.
Now, it was frankly obvious that Vernon was having a sort of hybrid panic/heart attack to Minerva, but Petunia knew no better. All she saw was her dearly beloved husband having severe medical issues in the presence of a witch. "STOP IT!" Petunia screeched, rushing to her husbands side and attempting to help him up. She was largely unsuccessful as Vernon was largely.. Well large.
"I SAID STOP IT YOU EVIL WOMAN! STOP WHATEVER YOU'RE DOING TO MY HUSBAND NOW!" She yelled again, causing Harry and Minerva to wince.
The Transfiguration Professor hadn't been idle, she'd withdrawn her wand at roughly the same time as Petunia had descended upon her husband. Unfortunately she wasn't well learned in the art of healing magic and she wasn't very confident with her next course of action. Fortunately, having participated in the last major wizarding war in Britain, she was familiar enough to know some healing magic and the professor was pretty sure she knew what to do.
Harry meanwhile resembled an avid fan of tennis at Wimbledon, whipping his head from the Professor to his uncle and back repeatedly with saucers for eye's. Fear read prevalent upon his face but Minerva wagered she didn't quite have the time to explain everything to the boy at the moment.
"Relax Mrs. Dursley. Your husband seems to be suffering from either a panic attack, a heart attack, or both. Now step aside so I can help him." The witch explained as she approached. Minerva's nostrils flared dangerously when petunia took a swipe at her once she was close enough.
"BACK I SAY! STAY BACK! LEAVE HIM BE! LEAVE US BE!" Petunia exclaimed in rising panic.
Harry began shaking with the fear and adrenaline of the moment. He'd seen his aunt upset before plenty of times, seen his uncle blistering mad, but he'd never seen either of them like this.
An odd thought occurred to the boy then, he wasn't sure which was his left foot and which was his right. Were his feet crossed? He looked down to be sure and found that they were just as he'd left them. Why did he think that?
"Mrs. Dursley! I am a trained professional and I am trying to help your husband. Control yourself and step. Aside."
"NO! I WONT HAVE IT HERE! I WONT I WONT STOP IT LEAVE!" Petunia shouted again, clearly beyond all reason.
Harry felt a cold bead of sweat traverse down the nape of his neck and in that moment, he snapped just a bit.
"Aunt Petunia MOVE!" Harry exclaimed, waving his hand and making it clear to all present it was not a request. For with the gesture of his sweeping arm, Petunia was forcefully thrown out of the way. Fortunately, she'd not hit anything and didn't seem to be hurt, but now she seemed to be falling into a spot of catatonia. Her eyes were large, pupils dilated, breathing rapid and shallow, and pale as a ghost.
'No, Petunia could most certainly use a calming charm' Minerva thought, but left it for after she'd addressed the whale-man. These of course were slightly faint thoughts, as she was just as thoroughly thrown by Harry's magic as petunia was, just mentally.
After staring at the boy for a moment, then shaking herself off a bit to get back in the game, she turned to Vernon. With a swish and flick she had the man on his back. Another swift gesture had a calming charm splashing upon him, and with a half-moments hesitation, a second crashed into Petunia and a third into Harry.
Following the round of calming charms, she then cast a rudimentary diagnostic charm and found that, indeed, Vernon's heart was faltering. Pursing her lips, she cast the only spell she could think of that would have any sort of beneficial effect on the man, which was a blood pressure stabilization spell.
Minerva never stopped to wonder why this spell of all spells is what she remembered from the various times in which she'd aided Madam Pomfrey during the last war, but then that was rather un-important to begin with at the moment.
She ran the diagnostic again and was pleased to see that Mr. Dursley was both calming down and the erratic behavior of the mans heart from moments ago was quelling. There were still obvious palpitations, but it seemed the man wouldn't expire right here on his living room floor.
Having reached the peak of her abilities now where regards medical magic, Minerva turned to the young black haired boy.
"Mr. Potter, be a dear and phone the 999 if you would."
Nodding frantically, Harry ducked out into the hallway to do just that. Now that the situation had calmed down from catastrophic levels, the Deputy Headmistress turned back to Petunia, who had her eyes narrowed dangerously, even whilst she sat in a most undignified position on the other side of the room.
"Mrs. Dursley, I've calmed your husband down and cast a blood-pressure stabilization charm upon him. I've not done anything other than a diagnostic. I think it would be best if we see your husband to the local medical facilities and resume our conversation at a less.. Stressful time." Minerva said in a calm and measured clip. She most certainly didn't want to resume the festivities of a few minutes before and if it meant speaking to the woman like a child then so be it.
"We'll not be resuming our conversation at all you.. you.. Wretched FREAK!" Petunia spat venomously.
Minerva was quite taken aback by the loathing in that small sentence and actually, physically snapped her head back a bit at the viciousness of the response. Her lips pursed dangerously, and she was about to retort when the boy's aunt continued,
"You take the boy to your Hogwarts, you take him away from here and you NEVER BRING HIM BACK AGAIN!" The irate woman exclaimed.
Meanwhile, Harry had returned to advise that he'd contacted the ambulance to have his uncle escorted to the A&E when he caught his aunts scathing rebuttal. Tears welled in his eyes, though they did not fall. Harry was well aware of how his relatives felt about him, but to hear it delivered in such a heated and hateful way, well, it stung a bit. But little Harry Potter was always a trooper, and this was not unlike any other time he'd born witness to hatred and loathing directed at himself.
The Green-eyed child squared his shoulders and walked out from behind the doorway, up to the professor. Nervously, he glanced at the woman out of the corner of his eye and he was scared to proceed, given the righteous fury on the woman's face, but Gryffindor's truck on and all that.
"The ambulance is on it's way Aunt Petunia. They said they'd be here soon." The boy started meekly, not meeting the eyes of either of the frightening women.
"Mrs. McGonagall, do you know.. Could I go to Hogwarts early and maybe stay there?" Harry asked tremulously.
Minerva's heart just about broke from this display, no child should have to live through the sort of hatred that obviously kept him company here on Privet Drive, nor be so collected directly afterward.
A stiff upper lip is all well and good, but that didn't change the fact that the hatred directed at this child should not be.
Softening her expression to the greatest extent possible for the boy's sake, she smiled somewhat frostily and said
"Harry, is it alright if I call you Harry?" at the boys nod she continued.
"Harry, it will be more than alright for you to stay at Hogwarts until school begins this semester."
Minerva paused there, worried she might say something horribly biting to or about the other woman in the room if she were to continue her train of thought. Rising, she gestured to the stairs, seeing the poor soul beside her follow that direction with his eyes.
"Please gather your things quickly, We'll depart thereafter." Minerva said in a clipped tone.
"Yes Ma'am!" The boy said hurriedly, nodding rapidly and rushing straight to the cupboard below the object of her intent.
Flustered for a moment, she followed behind the 11 year old and peaked into the small door, only to be greeted by a shelf loaded with noxious cleaning supplies, a small cot covered in a threadbare baby's blanket, and a "portrait" on the wall proclaiming this "Harry's Room".
It's curious, how one could liken Professor McGonagall's reaction to a volcano, whilst there was no visible explosion, and yet still be a wholly appropriate comparison.
A sharp inhale of breath, a near visible fire lighting behind her eyes, and a swift adjustment to her posture were the only visible signs to show that Minerva's limit had been met, and then breached.
Straightening to her fullest height, she told the boy in the GODS FORSAKEN CUPBOARD "Harry. I'll be speaking to your aunt for a moment. Please donae interrupt. Just knock at the door once you are ready."
'ok!' she heard amongst the frantic, muffled, rustling in the.. bedroom.. beside her.
The Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts chastised herself a bit in her mind, on her way back to the room containing the foul cretins. She only truly lost her mastery over her Scottish accent when in the direst of emotional situations. Of course this certainly qualified and she was far beyond caring.
Minerva's entrance into the room containing the Dursley's had a visible effect on the other woman within. Glancing up with a sneer at Minerva's entrance, Petunia quickly sat back and nearly crab-walked away from the absolute, unbridled, fury shining through the Scott's face.
"Petunia Dursley.." Minerva began quietly, turning whisper-yelling into an art form.
"You loathsome, foul, woman. Be warned you.. you.. YEUGH. Hear me well you. you will never see that boy again. NEVER. But you've not seen the last of me, NAE. I'll be back, I'll be taking the Bairn from you for good. I'll bring paperwork and you. Will. Sign it. Lily would be disgusted with you."
McGonagall ranted her frustration at the woman before her, eliciting shades of pale not thought to exist on the muggle woman's face.
"g-Good take him. TAKE HIM! We NEVER WANTED HIM ANYWAY!" Petunia stuttered before getting back into the swing of things.
Her volume was unacceptable to McGonagall though, who without hesitation, snapped out her wand and silenced the harpy before her.
"And that, Petunia Dursley, was the last nasty thing you'll ever say to that boy." She said with stern eyes and a scowl that Severus Snape would score at least 6 out of 10.
Turning on her heel, Minerva marched back out into the hall, only to see young Harry Potter stepping out of his cupboard with a few shabby articles of clothing wrapped up in the very blanket she'd caught a glimpse of just a minute ago. The boy had obviously heard what his aunt had just shouted, if the watery, red eyes were any indication. Flaring her nostrils again, Minerva decided to just get the hell out of this horrid place.
"All packed hm?" The professor asked the boy.
"Yes Ma'am." Harry said in response, avoiding eye contact for fear of being skewered by the daggers glinting behind those deadly eyes.
"Alright then, lets be on our way." Minerva told the child, offering her hand for him to take.
Readjusting his grasp on all his worldly belongings, Harry snapped up the proffered hand and followed his new Professor out the front door.
"Oh and Harry? Please call me Auntie Minnie."