Mary was back in the bed when she next opened her eyes. A dark haired woman in lime green robes had her back to her and was looking over a stack of parchment that sat on the tiny metal table. She watched while the woman tapped the papers with her wand. They rolled into a scroll and vanished without a trace.
"Hi," Mary whispered weakly, startling the older woman so badly that she knocked the table over.
"Miss Potter!" The woman smiled warmly, waving her wand to right the mess she'd made. "It's good to see you finally awake. I'm Healer Tonks."
"Uh, no offence, but where am I?" Her upper arm itched like mad and she tried to push the feeling back, but with little victory.
"You're in St. Mungo's, Miss Potter." Healer Tonks held up her hand in a gesture meant to reassure, but it only made Mary more anxious.
"What happened?" Mary asked at once, scratching at the band on her arm. "Are Ron and Ginny okay?"
"You were brought here after an incident with a basilisk at Hogwarts." Healer Tonks gently pried her hand away from her arm. "Don't mess with that, Miss Potter."
"Ron and Ginny?" Mary asked again, annoyance creeping into her tone. "Are they okay?"
"The Weasley children are fine, sweetheart." Healer Tonks patted her hand kindly.
"What is this thing?" Mary scratched at the silver cuff on her arm - that wrapped around her bicep just above the crook of her elbow- in an attempt to dig it out with her fingernails. "Why won't it come off?
Healer Tonks grimaced and grabbed Mary's hand once again before she could scratch her arm to the bone. "That is an artifact of Professor Dumbledore's. He placed it there to nullify the basilisk venom and keep it contained."
Mary furrowed her brow. "Shouldn't Fawkes' tears have counteracted the basilisk venom?"
"Professor Dumbledore's Phoenix cried on the wound, likely saving your life, but for some reason it didn't heal completely."
"Your professors were worried that the mixing of two strong magical substances caused irreparable damage. They brought you here where you could be monitored around the clock," Healer Tonks said in a sympathetic tone. "You've been in a coma for the last three weeks."
Mary stared at the silver cuff in disgust. "No, that's not right. Phoenix tears should have just healed it."
"Normally, yes, but something happened that altered the way the two volatile magics normally behave. You'll have to ask Professor Dumbledore about any other details as I simply do not know how to explain it. No one has ever seen a case as unique as yours." Healer Tonks gave her a pitying glance.
"So how long do I have to keep it on?" Mary asked, letting out a sigh as Healer Tonks stepped closer. "Wait, if it cuts off my magic, how will I use my wand?"
"We're not certain how long it will take for us to find a better solution, but we are trying." Healer Tonks squeezed her hand gently. "And I'm afraid you'll have to learn to use your left hand for magic. It may even be in your best interest to find a wand that suits it better, if your own fails."
Mary scraped her palm over her face and took a deep breath. "My right hand is now a Muggle. Lovely."
Thinking back over her latest nightmare, even Harry had fought the basilisk, but he had escaped with Fawkes and Ginny in time to free Dobby the house elf. He hadn't been hurt all that much, and the phoenix tears healed him completely. Harry left the Headmaster's office without so much as a checkup and was in perfect health.
I guess that's the perk of being in a dream. Mary thought grimly. Best not tell the healers that. They'll think I've gone barmy.
Healer Tonks waved her wand over Mary once again, then tapped it on the scroll. "I'll go get you a lunch tray and contact Professor Dumbledore. He might be able to explain what I cannot."
"Thanks." Mary nodded gratefully, still lost in thought.
She wondered what happened to Ron and how he had found Ginny. How did they make it out of the tunnel? Where was Lockhart? Did Hermione wake up from her petrification? Other than that and ending up in the hospital, everything she had dreamed about Harry had happened to her, well, right up until stabbing the diary. Is my imagination just running wild?
Looking at the calendar on the wall, Mary realized that she'd been asleep for the better part of the summer. It didn't feel like much of a loss though. It's not like the Dursley's would be torn up over her being absent. They'd probably had a party for every day she didn't darken their normal old doorstep with her freakish presence.
Healer Tonks walked in a few moments later, holding a cafeteria tray, with Dumbledore following closely behind her. "It's good to see you awake, child."
"Eat as much as you can." Healer Tonks sat the tray holding a bowl of broth and a cupful of juice on Mary's lap. "I'll be back in half an hour to start another round of potions."
"How are you feeling?" Dumbledore asked kindly as he dig through his pockets and pulled out a small cellophane bag of yellow sweets. "Lemon Drop?"
"Thanks." She grabbed one and placed it on her napkin, then sat forward. "I'm okay, sir. Just a little out of sorts."
"I can imagine so." Dumbledore nodded and sat down in the chair beside her bed. "I too feel disoriented after a long nap."
"Do you know what happened, sir?" Mary asked quietly. "I can't seem to remember getting out of the Chamber."
"After you collapsed, Miss Weasley was distraught, thinking that you were dead. She ran back through the Chamber to where her brother Ronald and Professor Lockhart were hauling rocks out of the way and managed to find a place to climb through." Dumbledore patted her hand. "The three of them made their way back up the tunnel that led to the girls restroom on the second floor."
"Ginny is okay though, right sir?" Mary begged for more information. "She didn't look very well, if I recall."
"She is fully recovered." He smiled in assurance, then sighed. "Though I'm afraid that Professor Lockhart didn't fare as well. His backfired spell caused significant damage."
Mary had no sympathy for the dishonest man, and didn't feel the need to act as though she did. "How did I get out?"
"Your friends were in hysterics when they were found in the corridor by Professor Sprout," Dumbledore continued. "They arrived in my office where their parents were, having already been told of their only daughter's kidnapping. Young Mister Weasley was able to fill in some of the blanks, but the loss of his best friend seemed to be taking its toll. Fawkes appeared with you, the diary, the Sorting Hat, and the Sword of Gryffindor, but he would not let anyone near you until he finished crying onto your wound."
"I love that old bird." Mary smiled, then grimaced at the thought of being dumped onto the office floor in front of an audience. "Hermione is right. I do have the tendency to make an entrance."
"That was a particularly frightening one, if I may say." Dumbledore peered at her over the rims of his glasses. "We were all quite worried about you, child."
"I'm okay." She shrugged and played with a loose thread on her blanket. "Did you know that it was Lucius Malfoy who gave Ginny the diary?"
"I suspected it." Dumbledore evaded her line of questioning. "I'm sure that he knows now that such a thing will not be tolerated. Especially after his house elf, Dobby, was quite vehement in defending you. Luckily, a misplaced sock spared him the punishment he was sure to receive."
"One of yours?" Mary quirked a brow at him.
"Guilty as charged." Dumbledore's eyes met hers with a twinkle. "While I offered him employment at the school, he claims to want to spend some time out and about."
"That's great!" Mary grinned, knowing that Dobby deserved freedom as all living things did.
"If I may ask." Dumbledore leaned toward her slightly. "What happened with the diary? Young Ginny could only say that a young boy appeared in it when she would write to him."
Mary stared at her hands to avoid looking into those knowing eyes, while trying to decide what she should tell him.
"It belonged to Tom Riddle," Mary finally replied. "He was there, not really a ghost, but he claimed that if Ginny died he'd be alive again. He said that he was using the diary to drain her life away. I didn't know what else to do, sir. I'd already been poisoned and was running out of time. So I stabbed it with the fang I pulled out of my arm."
"It was a very brave thing you did, Mary," Dumbledore said in a soft voice. "Once again you've prevented Lord Voldemort's return to the mortal world."
"I had a lot of help from my friends." Mary shrugged, uncomfortable with the undeserved praise.
Dumbledore sat quietly while she ate, staring down at his hands as though in deep thought. "Do you have questions about the Magical Suppression Cuff?"
"Yeah." Mary sighed and scratched at her arm where the cuff sat. "Healer Tonks said I can't take it off right yet."
"I'm sorry, my dear," Dumbledore replied, looking slightly shaken. "Your magic was in an odd state of flux. I don't know if Healer Tonks told you, but Fawkes' tears neutralized the basilisk venom just enough to heal your arm, but the warring magics almost took you from this world. It wasn't until I found a way to isolate and cut off the magic to your arm that we were able to stabilize you."
Mary rubbed at the cold band of silver. "Thank you, sir. I really do appreciate you giving this to me."
"If you have no more questions, child, I do believe I will take my leave and let you get back to rest." Dumbledore stood and smiled at her. "With any luck, you'll be well on your way home tomorrow."
"The Dursleys will be thrilled." Mary's face fell and she looked back down at her blanket in thought. "I did have one more question, sir. I know you had your reasons not to answer when I asked at the end of first year, but can you tell me now why Voldemort seems so intent on killing me? Even his sixteen year old self was obsessed with it. It can't just be because he failed to kill me as a baby."
Dumbledore seemed to consider her request, then slowly shook his head. "I'm afraid that is not something I can answer today, dear girl."
Mary clenched her fist, burying her fingernails into her palm. "I understand, sir."
"Sleep well, Mary." He nodded and left the room without another word, but the sympathetic look in his eyes suggested that he knew far more than he was willing to tell her.
A large burly nurse with broad shoulders and grey hair walked into the room before the door closed. The woman said nothing, but stared down at her stonily as she handed Mary foul tasting potions that made her body feel like gelatin and her eyes grow heavy.
Professor McGonagall showed early up the next morning, not long after Healer Tonks took away her barely touched tray of eggs and toast.
Mary tried to smile, but gave up soon after. "Morning, Professor."
"Morning, Potter." McGonagall smiled in return. "I'm here to escort you home. How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine." Mary grimaced as she got out of the bed, feeling stronger than she had the day before, but still not ready to face the Dursleys. "Thank you, professor."
McGonagall shot her a shrewd and calculating glance. "Professor Dumbledore mentioned that you may be in need of a new wand. I'll take you to Ollivanders, and if you can promise to keep this to yourself, I have your supply list for the upcoming year. We can get your needed texts and supplies so that you can be ready for the next term."
Mary took the envelope and opened it carefully. The list was exactly how she remembered from her dream and Mary made a mental note to find out what else was the same.
Mary read over the offered courses for third years. "I know I picked Divination when we talked about electives, but I think I'd have better luck with Ancient Runes. Can I switch?"
"Of course you can," McGonagall said, her smile widening. "These courses will determine the kind of career you choose in the future. Ancient Runes will be a very wise choice. Arithmancy would be wonderful too."
"I'll tackle that beast on my own time, professor. Knowing my luck, Hermione will take Divination and I'll end up learning it anyway." Mary folded up the letter and placed it on the bed. "The professors won't mind if I come to them with a question every once in a while though, will they?"
"As long as you do not abuse their time and help, I don't see them minding," Professor McGonagall said primly, staring around the empty room. "Do you have anything here that you wish to take with you?"
Mary felt her face flush as she looked down at her hospital gown. "I don't even have anything to wear."
Professor McGonagall let out a quiet laugh and grinned at Mary over the rim of her glasses. "I am a Transfiguration professor, Potter."
With a wave of her wand, McGonagall transformed Mary's striped hospital gown into a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a nice warm jumper.
Mary smiled widely and grabbed her Holly wand from the bedside table, holding back a grimace as she felt absolutely nothing while holding her beloved wand in her right hand. In a fit of inspiration, Mary twisted her dark hair into a messy bun, sliding her wand through it to hold it in place.
Professor McGonagall's lips thinned considerably at the sight. "Mister Ollivander will be highly offended at the sight of one of his creations being used as a hair accessory."
Mary shrugged her shoulders and dug her hands into her pockets. "I'll take it out before we get there. Might even get a couple wand holsters."
McGonagall nodded once and breathed deeply. "A very wise choice."
Minerva McGonagall
"Here we are, Potter." Minerva steadied her student and cleared her throat after the two had Apparated to the edge of Number Four, Privet Drive. "I must say, It's been a long time since I've had such a pleasant day."
Potter smiled brightly up at her with a determined air. "We'll have to go shopping again next summer, Professor."
"I look forward to it." She nodded, holding tight to Potter's shoulder and using the other to knock lightly on the door.
Potter wrung her hands and stared down at her feet, slouching as loud footsteps approached from inside the house. It put her on edge to see Potter, who'd always been brave and courageous, backing away and looking ready to flee.
A very large man pulled the door open and growled at Potter's trembling form. "You! I thought those freaks said you were in the hospital!"
Potter blinked up at him. "I recovered, Uncle Vernon."
"A shame." Dursley gritted out and turned his glare on Minerva. "Couldn't your lot just keep her?"
Dursley's attitude ignited her temper and Minerva itched to hex the walrus of a man. How dare he talk to Potter that way? Especially given her most recent brush with death.
"Miss Potter is your niece." Minerva clutched her wand tightly in her hand. "You haven't visited or wrote to her once since she was injured. What is your excuse, Muggle, for such an act?"
A small hand on her arm distracted her from the lengthy tirade she was about to unleash on Dursley. "It's okay, professor."
Dursley looked at Potter with a dark gleam in his beady eyes. "Upstairs. Now. Leave your freakish things and that stick in the cupboard. And that owl best not make any noise, girl!"
Potter nodded quickly and ran into the house and up the stairs. Minerva pushed passed the lout, ignoring his protests, and followed Potter into a tiny room that looked more like a storage locker than a young girl's bedroom. While Potter was pulling the shrunken parcels from her pockets, Minerva took a glance around the room and grimaced at the state it was in. The mattress was lumpy and looked like it had seen better days. The threadbare blanket and far too flattened pillow were past any kind of repair. Everything was either broken or so worn out that it was only fit for the rubbish bin.
With a wave of her wand, Minerva vanished everything but the furniture, mattress, and most recent purchases, startling her student. "I'll be sending some new things to you, Potter."
"But." Potter looked horrified at the now empty room.
"I'll have it all sent within a few hours by Annie, my house elf." Minerva held up a hand to stave off any arguments. "I'll repair what's left before I leave. You are to keep your belongings and your wand in here with you. I don't care what that man says."
Potter sat on the dilapidated chair with flushed cheeks and Minerva resisted the urge to hug her. She knew that things at the Dursleys were not easy for Potter, but to see both the way she was treated alongside the way she was forced to live was unforgivable. Albus had a lot of explaining to do.
With a few strong repairing charms, the furniture was in better condition, and a few more spells had Potter's purchases and the contents of her trunk unpacked and ready to be put away.
Minerva glanced at her watch and frowned at how the time had flown by. "It's the dinner hour, Potter. I need to get back to Hogwarts."
Potter stood. "Thank you for everything, professor."
"It was no problem, Potter." Minerva nodded at her. "Owl me if you need anything at all."
Potter looked around the bare room as if in search of something, but jumped when a tapping noise sounded from the window. She moved the shade aside and revealed the white Snowy owl sitting on the other side of the thick metal bars.
Minerva's vision tinged red at the sight of the bars and immediately vanished them, hoping that the damned Muggles ended up in the deepest pit of Hades. No other window on the house had bars across it. That alongside the many locks on the outside of the door told a story all in itself. One that Minerva wasn't sure she wanted to hear.
"Thank you." Potter smiled at her, opening the window to let the bird in. "Have a good evening, professor."
"You as well." Minerva shut the bedroom door behind herself and looked at the locks in disdain.
So the Dursleys wanted to keep the girl a prisoner in her own room? She realized with a heavy heart. The burden of guilt and betrayal that had festered in her heart for the past twelve years surged forward and she could nary contain it. The child should have never been left, abandoned really, by those of her own kind. Albus be damned, she'd find a way to make it right.
"Repello Muggletum." Minerva cast at the doorway.
With a sly smile, she vanished the series of locks and descended the stairs, leaving the house without anyone noticing. The cat Animagus knew for a fact that if any Muggle tried to find Potter, they'd be automatically diverted, thinking that they had forgotten something important and completely forget who they were really looking for.
"Annie," Minerva whispered quietly from beside a thick hedge.
A small pop sounded and a tiny elf appeared in front of her, wearing a pink paisley dress. "You called Annie, Madam?"
"Go to the Gryffindor supply room and bring a full set of bedding including a new mattress. Bring them here to Mary Potter and help her arrange everything." She pointed at Potter who was sitting at the small desk in front of the window. "Bring her a basket of food also, whatever is being served by the Hogwarts elves should be fine. Find me as soon as it's taken care of."
"Right away, Madam." Annie nodded and disappeared with a soft pop.
Dinner at Hogwarts that night was highly uneventful. Minerva had been both outraged and saddened by the way Dumbledore explained the issue with the Dursleys and just how important the protective enchantments were. But Minerva was not deterred, she would find a way to make sure Potter was raised to be both safe and happy, even if Minerva had to do it herself. Towards the end of the meal - when Minerva had to resist choking a certain Divination professor with her bare hands - Annie appeared next to her, wringing her hands and looking quite put upon.
"What happened, Annie?" Minerva asked kindly. "Is something wrong?"
The little elf tugged on her ears. "It is Miss Potter, Madam. She was not wanting Annie to leave until Annie sits down and eats dinner with her."
Minerva bit her cheek to keep from smiling at the poor elf. Annie must have been both shocked and confused by Potter's offer.
"You are a good elf, Annie." Minerva patted her tiny shoulder. "I'm sure Potter was thrilled to have your company."
The elf flushed under the praise. "You are too kind, Madam."
"Nonsense," Minerva replied firmly. "I won't keep you any longer. You may have the rest of the night to do as you wish."
Annie nodded and snapped her fingers, leaving once again with a small pop.
Minerva smiled to herself and shook her head and set into her pudding with a lighter heart. If all went well, Potter wouldn't have to interact with the Muggles very much over the summer. And when she returned to Hogwarts, Minerva would make sure that she was given all the care she could ever want.
July 21st, 1993
Mary Potter
Mary sat at her newly repaired desk and let out a deep sigh. For the first time in her memory, Dudley's second bedroom was completely clean. His old broken toys, and ragged, overly large clothes were gone. The bed now had a brand new soft mattress, blankets, and pillows Mary was sure had once been in the Gryffindor dorms. All of her clothing now resided in the small wardrobe and her most valuable belongings were still carefully hidden in her trunk. Her wands and Cloak had a safe place under the floorboard, just in case Uncle Vernon searched her room for them.
The extreme loneliness that Mary always felt in that house was still there though. No matter what had been done to make her room more bearable, it still felt like a prison where she was highly unwelcome, yet unable to leave. Instead of wallowing in self pity, Mary instead finished her summer assignments with the best of her ability, making sure that her penmanship and grammar were both correct before rolling up the scrolls of parchment and placing them in her trunk. Snape's essay on shrinking potions had taken her the longest, as she put in far more effort to double the required length, not wanting to give the irritable man any other reason to pick on her.
Halfway through the third day of her imprisonment, Mary received letters from her friends, finally adding a ray of hope on her otherwise gloomy summer.
Hey Mary!
How's your summer going? Hope the Muggles aren't being too hard on you. Don't worry about Ginny, she's doing okay. She's just been a little quiet since all that rot in the Chamber.
I reckon mum is still on Dumbledore about adopting you. Hope he agrees or she'll explode! It'd be right nice to have you around more.
Guess what? Dad's won the 700 Galleon draw at work! We're going to Egypt to visit Bill! Even Charlie will be there! Wish you could come with us, but Dumbledore told mum that you needed to stay with the Muggles a little longer. Maybe we can meet up in Diagon Alley when we get back?
Owl me back soon.
-Ron
Dear Mary,
I'm so sorry that we weren't there when you woke up. I wanted to stay, I truly did, but the Healers had no idea you would be waking up so soon. I'm very glad that you are doing well and there haven't been any complications from your coma.
I'm so jealous that you've already bought your books for next year! You must tell me how they are. You are reading them, right? And why on Earth did you drop Divination? It is surely going to be interesting. You should have just added Ancient Runes instead of dropping a class that could be very enlightening. I can't believe Professor McGonagall didn't try to persuade you to keep it in your schedule.
Well, my parents want to get back to the museums before they close. I'll send this with Hedwig before she gets any more irritated with me.
Love from,
Hermione
Over the next few weeks, Hedwig gladly traveled back and forth carrying correspondence to and from her friends. Ron kept his letters short, but always asked how she was faring, and in turn would write about what new mischief the twins had gotten themselves into. Hermione, on the other hand, wrote long manuscripts that detailed her travels and holiday adventure. Not to mention paragraphs of pleading and begging that Mary give her more clues and hints about the third year books. Mary didn't think that Hermione would be satisfied until she sent her the books a chapter at a time.
She desperately wanted to write them both, explaining the odd dream; in hopes that they would have some kind of helpful advice, but she already knew what their response would be. Ron would tell her that it was just a dream, a side effect of the potions she had been fed. Hermione would go into a lengthy explanation on inter-dimensional travel in the magical world and how it was highly unlikely that she'd had anything more than a very vivid nightmare. Still it nagged at her that she remembered it all so clearly.
For the most part, the Dursleys acted as though she wasn't even there. Every few days though, particularly when Hedwig was chirping at Mary in conversation, Uncle Vernon would stomp up the stairs yelling about hearing 'that damned owl', only to stomp back down the stairs and start talking to Aunt Petunia again like nothing had happened.
The basket of food that Annie brought on her first night back, stayed sitting on the top of Mary's trunk. Each night it disappeared before Mary went to sleep, only to reappear first thing in the morning, full of delicious food. Regular meals while staying with the Dursleys was something she still wasn't used to, especially as she was barely able to get out and exercise. Instead of staring at the ceiling or rereading her textbooks, Mary spent every waking moment documenting every bit of her dream onto paper. It was a long and tedious task, trying to make sure that everything was exactly as she'd seen it, but by the third week, she'd filled out all seven leather bound journals with almost every detail possible. If nothing else, then having put it to paper would ease it off her mind just a little.
Mary's heart broke as she wrote down the last few pages into the seventh journal. To think that Harry went through all of that, only to be killed, was enough to have tears burning her eyes. He'd lost and sacrificed so much only to never have his happy ending. And he hadn't been the only one to give his life. Professor Dumbledore, Fred, Colin, Lavender, Dobby and many others were lost in Harry's story.
With a burst of inspiration, Mary jotted down the last few words and closed the journal. "Dobby?"
After a few tense minutes, where Hedwig lifted her head from beneath her wing and stared at Mary like she'd lost her mind, a soft pop sounded and the little elf appeared before her.
Dobby didn't even have the opportunity to speak before Mary gathered him up in a tight hug. "How are you, Dobby?"
"Dobby is fine, Mary Potter!" He squeaked loudly and patted her on the back. "Dobby is so happy that Marry Potter is calling Dobby!"
Mary sat down on the bed. "Have a seat, Dobby. If you'd like, of course."
Dobby grinned and cautiously sat on the corner of the bed. "Thank you, Mary Potter."
"Professor Dumbledore told me that you're free now," Mary said. "How is it?"
Dobby looked down at his filthy tea towel and bandaged hands. "It is being hard work for Dobby. House elves are not trusted once freed. Wizards won't hire Dobby."
Mary looked at her friend in concern. "Where are you staying then?"
"Dobby has found an old crate behind the market." Dobby nodded his head proudly. "It is being big enough for Dobby and keeps the rain away."
Mary reached over and grabbed the basket from her trunk and set it on the bed between them. Her mind whirled with ways that she could help him, and finally came to a conclusion that could benefit them both.
She looked up at the elf with pleading eyes. "I have a favor to ask of you, Dobby."
Dobby's great bulbous eyes widened and he leaned forward while wringing his hands together. "Anything for the great Mary Potter! Dobby will do whatever you is needing."
"Can you do magic here without the Ministry or anyone else finding out or thinking it was me, like last year?" Mary asked seriously.
"Oh yes, Mary Potter." Dobby replied, fiddling with the hem of his tea towel. "That is only happening because Dobby mimicked Mary Potter's magical signature. House elf magic is not tracked by the Ministry of Magic."
Mary clapped her hands together and smiled, before pulling two warm plates of food out of the basket. "Let's eat dinner first."
Dobby took the plate with tearful eyes and Mary had to choke down her own grief. It hit far too close to home to think that the little elf had been starved and homeless all this time. She knew better than most how bad it could get when days would go by with little food or water.
When they finished eating, Mary went to her trunk and grabbed a set of work robes that she'd used in her first year. The trousers and shirt were far too small for her, but Dobby could easily shrink them to his own size. Thankfully, the Dursleys had been gone all day, and Mary was able to let Dobby make use of the bathroom to get cleaned up and change.
It was late and her eyes were tired from reading and writing, so Mary pulled the lumpy old mattress out from its hiding spot under her bed and got the extra blanket, making a suitably comfortable bed.
"I'll stay here." Mary sat down on the old mattress. "You take the bed."
"Dobby will not!" Dobby put his balled up fists on his bony hips and his long nose pointed up towards the ceiling. "Mary Potter will stay on her own bed and Dobby will sleep on the floor or Dobby will not stay."
Mary bit her lip to keep from laughing at how the little elf had tried to manipulate her. "Please don't leave, Dobby. I'll take the bed."
Mary stood up and went to her own bed while Dobby laid down. "You are far too kind to Dobby, Mary Potter."
"Good night," Mary replied with a yawn and turned the lamp off, knowing full well that it would be a restless night. "And Dobby, it's Mary. Just Mary."
July 27th, 1993
The phone rang, pulling Mary out of her daze. She'd been reading for so long that she'd lost track of time. Barreling out of her room, Mary bent down to grab the staircase top plate and slid across the railing until she could jump off at the end, crashing into the back of the couch. She rolled over the back and dove for the phone.
"Hello?" She gasped into the mouthpiece, trying to catch her breath.
"Mary?" Hermione asked quickly. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Mary replied, exhausted from the short jog. "Ran for the phone and I'm still out of shape. Imagine Crabbe running from Fluffy."
Hermione snickered quietly. "I'm sure you're not that bad off."
"Feel like it," Mary muttered. "My wardens will be back any minute so I can't talk long."
Hermione barely stopped talking long enough for Mary to get the message across when she heard the car door slam shut. "Sorry, Hermione. The Dursleys haven't been all that thrilled with me surviving and coming back here, it'd be best not to make them angrier than they already are. I better get to safety before they come unglued."
She heard her best friend sigh loudly on the other end. "If you're sure, but please, Mary, write more often."
"I promise," Mary said quietly. "I've got to go."
"Bye."
Mary took the steps two at a time and made it back to her room with barely a moment to spare before the front door opened.
"Marge will arrive on Saturday morning." Uncle Vernon's loud voice echoed up to her room. "I'll be picking her up from the station at ten."
"How wonderful!" Aunt Petunia squealed in delight. "I'll have the guest room ready and get the shopping finished first thing in the morning."
Mary's heart beat loudly in her chest as she closed the door quietly and walked over to her trunk, ignoring Dobby's worried stares. With shaking hands, Mary pulled out the brown journal and flipped through the pages until she found the right one.
It was exactly right. Aunt Marge had arrived on the train on Saturday the thirty first, Harry's thirteenth birthday. Uncle Vernon had picked her and Ripper up at ten in the morning.
"What are the chances?" Mary whispered to herself. "It's got to be a coincidence."
"Is Miss okay?" Dobby asked worriedly. "You are looking far too pale, Mary."
Mary swallowed heavily. "I'm fine, Dobby."
Mary was quiet for the rest of the evening, reflecting on whether or not she should do anything about the dreams. It seemed a little far fetched and crazy that she'd remembered it all so clearly in the first place, but at the same time, it had an air of danger around it. She would just have to take things one step at a time and figure out what to do from then on.
July 30th, 1993
After they ate their breakfast the next morning, Mary and Dobby sat on the floor and played Exploding Snap. Around noon, Mary began gathering things from around her room that she didn't use, or wouldn't need during her stay and carefully packed them in her trunk along with her books and school robes. Dobby's help was invaluable as he was the one that made sure that everything was properly folded to where it wouldn't wrinkle. With a snap of his fingers, he made her school books stack themselves neatly in her trunk where she could easily find them if needed.
Mary held the stack of journals carefully in front of the little elf. "Can you charm these so that only I can open them?"
"Of course Dobby can!" Dobby snapped his fingers and the journals glowed bright blue. "Tap the book with your wand, Mary Potter, and speak a password."
Mary tapped all of the journals and gave each a unique password that pertained to what happened in Harry's story. They stopped glowing and Mary hugged Dobby in thanks, knowing that it would have been difficult to keep them from falling into the wrong hands without the little elf's help. It wouldn't do for anyone to read them. They'd either think she'd gone 'round the bend, or they'd use the information in ways that would make her life even more difficult.
Just before midnight, Mary left her window wide open as she and Dobby sat on the bed playing a game of chess. The game was interrupted moments later by a flock of owls landing on the desk beside them. With a snap of his fingers, Dobby freed them all of their packages and had a plateful of owl treats and a large bowl of water floating in front of them.
"Thank you, Dobby," Mary said as she pulled the third journal out of her trunk and sat it down on the bed in front of the pile of gifts.
She opened it to the bookmarked page and readied herself for the first test of how true her dream was. Mary stared down at the gold wrapped parcel and held the birthday card and newspaper clipping with a shaky hand.
With each gift that turned out to be exactly like the ones Harry had received, Mary's heart dropped further. With each heartfelt letter from her friends that was written exactly as they were in her dream journal, Mary could feel the weight of the future settling on her shoulders, threatening to break her down.
"It wasn't a dream," she whispered as she raised her eyes to see Dobby petting and talking to the drowsy owls. "It's really happening."
"Did you say something to Dobby?" The little elf looked at her with wide happy eyes.
Mary forced the grim expression to leave her face. "Oh no, Dobby. I was just talking to myself."
Dobby smiled brightly at her, his ears flopping as he nodded his head. "Dobby does that too."
Mary leaned back against her pillows, closing her eyes and wondering what else life was going to throw at her.
Sometime during the night, the owls returned to their homes and Hedwig took off to hunt. Mary slept through it all while dreaming about werewolves, Killing Curses and high cold laughter.
July 31st, 1993
The next morning Mary woke up to the smell of bacon frying. Her mouth watered as she rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock that ticked from six fifty-nine to seven. It seemed like no matter how much she slept she still felt exhausted and worn down.
She didn't necessarily want to alert the Dursleys to her presence, but there was no way around it. While visiting, Aunt Marge never left the house and even Uncle Vernon took time off of work. Mary would rather face them now, then to suddenly surprise them during her belligerent Aunt's visit.
After a quick detour to the restroom to take a quick shower and brush her teeth, Mary slowly made her way downstairs. The Dursleys were all sitting at the table as she quietly sat down in her chair and piled food onto her plate. Aunt Petunia sneered at her as she went to reach for a second helping of eggs and Mary smirked back as she grabbed a handful of bacon with her other hand.
"Finally decided to show yourself, eh?" Uncle Vernon sneered at her. "Wanted to ruin my sister's visit with your freakishness?"
"No, Uncle Vernon." Mary put her head down and tried to eat as quickly as possible.
"I don't know what kind of mumbo jumbo you've done, but I won't have it in my home!" Uncle Vernon snarled, slamming the palm of his hand onto the table. "All that noise you've been making and the way that we can't seem to find you. You've been foisted on us, yet you can't even be gracious enough to help out around here. Well, it's going to stop as of today! You are going to do whatever Petunia tells you to do and you'll do it without complaining or you'll be out on your ear and no number of freaks will be able to stop me."
I don't plan on staying, Mary thought snidely.
Halfway through the meal, the newscaster on the telly made Mary's blood run cold.
"And any sighting of the deranged criminal, Sirius Black, should be reported immediately…."
Mary dropped the glass of juice she was holding.
"Sirius!" she gasped aloud, ignoring Aunt Petunia's shriek of rage as the orange juice spilled onto the pristine floor.
Without thought, Mary numbly grabbed her plate and stood to take it to the sink while Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon yelled at her to come back and clean up the mess she'd made.
"You lousy, ungrateful little…."
"Potter!" Dudley said, distracting Mary long enough to turn and look at the large boy who smirked at her in return.
Vernon's open palm connected with Mary's temple, making her stumble back in shock. The hit had been hard, but nowhere near what it could have been if Mary hadn't moved with the blow. The warmth of fresh blood trickled down the side of her face where his Smeltings' ring had cut into the soft flesh of her temple. The air around her crackled and Mary glared at him, trying to rein in her temper.
BOOM
Aunt Petunia screamed and Uncle Vernon lurched back from her in horror. Dudley wet himself and was standing in the same spot trembling, while the cupboard under the stairs was engulfed in blue flames.
"Finite!" Mary pointed her wand at the flames.
Nothing happened.
"Finite Incantatem," she cast again, then let her wand drop to her side in defeat.
The flames stood, but upon further inspection, Mary realized that there was no heat coming from them, nor was anything actually on fire. It was like it was some weird form of illusion. Hermione was right. she really needed to learn some self control. If her accidental magic couldn't even conjure a real fire, she was screwed.
Wand in hand, Mary turned around only to be stopped by an enraged Vernon and a shell-shocked Petunia. Uncle Vernon was huffing and puffing, his face turning from bright red to deep purple.
"Put it out," Uncle Vernon spat as he grabbed her by the throat and shook her violently. "Now."
"I c...an't." Mary choked out. "It was an a...accident."
The front door burst open and Aunt Petunia screamed in outrage as three wizards in light blue robes barged into the room - wands out - and stopped at the sight of the family.
"What's going on here?" The first said with narrowed eyes, as the other two wizards ran to stop the harmless flames.
"Vernon," Aunt Petunia said fearfully as her eyes darted between the wands, her son, and her husband. "Let her go."
Uncle Vernon released his grip and spun around, purple faced, to address the wizards in his home. "If you're here to take the girl then be off with you and let the lousy little bitch rot in jail!"
Mary looked at Aunt Petunia in challenge, hoping to hear her say something in her defense.
"Go," her aunt ground out. "And never come back."
"Gladly," Mary replied, as she moved past them to go and retrieve her things from upstairs.
Their raised voices carried into her room, with Uncle Vernon getting louder by the moment while Aunt Petunia's shrill tone was mediating. The front door slammed shut and Uncle Vernon continued to rant and yell. In truth, Mary was shocked that the Ministry Wizards didn't stop to talk to her. They clearly saw the cause of her magical outburst, but hadn't bothered checking on her at all. But mostly she was glad for their blatant disregard of her well-being. It made it easier not having to explain to them how the Famous Mary Potter was unloved by her Muggle relatives.
It took her a few moments to calm down enough to turn around and face Dobby, who'd all but hid under the bed when she burst into the room.
"I was just thinking that I'd like to get out of here as soon as possible," Mary said in a softer tone, watching with guilt as the small elf climbed out from his hiding spot. "Would you mind going to Diagon Alley and finding out if they have any rooms?"
Dobby's eyes narrowed at her tone. "At the Leaky Cauldron? Mary Potter would be most welcome there."
"I'll start packing up." Mary kept her hand up to shield the rapidly swelling bruise from his view.
"Dobby will get it," he said happily as he snapped his fingers and caused her meager belongings and new gifts to fly into her trunk. "Dobby will take the trunk with him now if you wish."
"I'd appreciate that." Mary reached into her pocket with her Muggle hand and pulled out a few Galleons. "Make sure any room you get has room for both of us and Hedwig."
Dobby packed up the rest of her things, including her new bedding and the food basket, and after promising to meet her at the Leaky Cauldron, Dobby left with a soft pop.
"Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron, girl. I won't be long," Mary told Hedwig as she placed both of her wands in their holsters.
Mary walked silently down the stairs, hoping to leave without notice, but to her increasing irritation her Aunt and Uncle were waiting for her by the door.
"What do we tell those freaks when they find you've gone, girl?" Uncle Vernon fumed.
"Tell them I'll contact them if I feel the need," Mary replied, in the politest tone she could muster. "As long as you stick to your part of not wanting me back, they'll have no reason to do more."
"What do you mean do more?" Uncle shook his fist. "Are you threatening me?"
"No, Uncle Vernon, I'm promising that if you don't let me go right now, you won't like what will happen," Mary said with her wand at her side.
She gave them one last look and pulled a wrinkled handkerchief out of her pocket to dab at her bleeding lip. Then, without another word, she walked out of Number 4 Privet Drive for the last time.
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