I own nothing. Least of all this.
1:17
Surrey looked like...well, like Surrey.
Same cut-out houses, same picture perfect lawns, same cars in the driveways. Even when I was human, living someplace like this would have driven me spare.
I double-checked the coordinates. I couldn't rely on my eyes, too much sameness out there. Yep, right spot. I could still feel the Sergeant's ID in my coat pocket, feeling for all the world like it was burning a whole through. I took a deep breath.
Time to pay the man.
I stepped out…
And promptly tripped over a cat and fell flat on my face.
If it had been any other color cat, I would have chalked it up to bad timing, but no, this one had to be black. A bad omen if I ever saw one.
And for once, I was right on the money.
"Oh my! Sir, are you alright?"
"Just give a minute, and I'll be fine, thanks."
"Here, let me give you a hand!"
"No, no, that's alright. I've got it."
I pushed myself up, trying very hard not to accidentally put my hands down on another cat. When I was upright once more, I turned to see who it was that had come to my rescue.
"...Arabella FIGG?"
"Do I know you, young man?"
"...No, no I don't suppose you do. Sorry."
"Quite alright dearie. But I must say, I haven't gone by Figg in some time now, oh, some time indeed."
Bollocks.
"...You wouldn't happen to go by the name 'Calvers' now, would you ma'am?"
"Why, yes, however did you know?"
Double bollocks.
"...Ma'am, I'm afraid I have some... bad news... about your son."
"...Oh..Oh, my...Why don't you...come on inside then, dearie? I'll just...put on the tea. Do you...drink tea?"
"...Yes, ma'am. I do."
"Right then...this way, then."
And inside we went.
"There's a closet to your right, if you'd like to hang up your coat."
"Thank you, ma'am."
Slowly, I pulled off my coat, taking a look around the room as I did so. It looked virtually identical to what I expected. I could see two of the cats from the movies, plus the one still out on the lawn that I almost killed myself on.
"..tea should be done in a jiffy." Ms. Figg, sorry, Calvers, said as she walked back in. "If you'd like to...take a seat?" She gestured towards the sofa with the least amount of cat on it.
"Thank you very much." I moved over to the suggested spot and sat. "Right. I've..never had to do something like this before. Where would you like me to start?"
"Well, a name would be a nice place to start, dearie."
"Sorry. My name's Winchester. Commander Winchester."
"Do you work with my son?"
"Not really, ma'am. My work is how I met him, but we weren't exactly in the same department. The only reason I'm the one here now is I was the one with him when...it..happened."
I could hear the quiver in her voice. "..What did happen, dearie."
I sighed. I was hating every second of this, but it had to be done. "You know where he worked, I'm guessing?"
"Yes. I did. I thought it was that place they said burned down on the news, and I've..been trying not to worry too much... ever since I heard."
"...Well, I can tell you that anything you hear on the news from now on will be entirely made of lies. The fact is...Abstergo, the place where he worked, well, it had...things going on that were wrong. Not just illegal, but wrong. I probably shouldn't even be telling you this, security and all, but..you deserve to hear it. The facts are, ma'am, that your son found out about some of the things, and did everything he could to bring them to light. That's how I got called in, actually. I was the one who helped him get the information out. But when the higher ups found out, they did everything they could to stop it. Even went so far as to blow up the building we were in. But your son...he still managed to take down the man responsible. I tried to help, but...in the end, it was just him holding the line. I got there too late. I'm... sorry. So, so sorry."
"Oh, dearie. You..tried your best, I'm sure."
"No, but don't you see? I sent him where I thought it would be safer! I tried to keep him safe! And I failed! I failed. And he paid for it."
"Did you win?"
"...Ma'am?"
"Did. You. Win."
"...Well, yes, but.."
"Then that's all there is to it. You failed, yes. And I won't get my son back. But you tried ... and that's more than anyone else did. For that, thank you."
"...It was my honor, ma'am."
"There. That's nice. Now, for some tea."
"One minute, please. I've got... something... for you. I couldn't get his...body released, but I did get…" I held out the Sergeant's tags, "..these. It's not much, I know, but I thought you'd like to have them."
Shakily, her hands closed over mine. "Oh, dearie...thank you, but... no."
"...Pardon?"
"It was a nice thought. And I thank you for it. But, you see, I've already got so many things that were his. You... I think... need these more than I do."
My voice cracked. "...Thank you."
"You're welcome, dearie. Now, I'm sure the tea's boiling by now. I'll just go and fetch it."
She slowly rose, and walked back through the doorway. I looked down at the Sergeant's tags. "Calvers, William." A hero if there ever was one. Even if he had been on the wrong side. Steadily, his face disappeared into my shirt's front pocket, and then vanished completely. I buttoned it shut. The weight would be my reminder.
"...take cream or sugar, dearie?"
I hadn't heard her come back in. Too deep in thought, I guess.
"Just cream, if you don't mind."
The tea flowed into my cup, followed quickly by the cream.
"So, tell me about yourself, dearie."
And so I did.
Or, at least, the story of Dean Winchester. His life, his exploits, his ups and his downs (heavily edited, of course). He was certainly more of a hero than I was. And if, by some strange twist of Fate, he existed in this universe, well, it's not like he didn't deserve more people hearing his tale. Any mild resemblance I might bear to him would merely lend more credence to what I said.
My story's not the sort anyone would care to hear over tea.
Well, except for the Doctor.
After I finished, she told me about her life. She obviously did her best to leave out the bits about the wizarding world, but it was relatively easy to see the holes if you knew what to look for. So there we both sat, a pair of people both trying very hard to keep the other from knowing the truth about the other. Ironic.
It was close on to an hour before I finally got around to the real reason I had come: compensation. Sounds a bit sterile to call it that, but that's what it was. I told her that, given the fact that her son had died in the line of duty to his country (if unofficially), she wouldn't have to worry about money ever again. Her bank had already received the appropriate deposits (I should know, I made them), and if she wanted to she could buy Trafalgar Square and still have enough to cruise on for the rest of her life.
She tried extremely hard to insist it was too much, but I wasn't having it. It took another ten minutes to convince her she should keep the money, and if she wasn't going to use it herself, there were plenty of animal shelters around that could use it.
Finally, the time had come to leave.
I had already put my coat back on, and was just making my final goodbyes, when a truly horrible thought struck me:
What had happened to Harry Potter in this world?
I had to know.
"Miss Calvers, I'm afraid there's just one more thing I have to trouble you for."
"Oh, you've been no trouble at all, dearie. But go ahead."
"...Do you know anyone by the name of Harry Potter?"
The blood left her face. For a minute, I was afraid she was having a heart attack.
"...How do you know that name, Commander."
Oops. I done messed up. She hadn't called me Commander the whole time I had been there. Play it safe. You don't know where in the timeline you are.
"I may be a...Muggle, ma'am, but you forget: The Death Eaters attacked more than other wizards. The Muggle authorities had to deal with a good many problems as well. Dumbledore had his counterparts in our world. My da was one, on the American side. I may not know much about how things work in the British Wizarding World, but even America has heard of how He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named fell. Some of the things we saw in Abstergo, there was no possible explanation for them other than 'magic'. And your son never batted an eye. He already knew it was real. I guessed there was really only one person who could have told him: his mum. And I didn't know anyone else in Britain to ask, I guess."
"...And if were to say...I knew little Harry?"
Little Harry. Bollocks. He hadn't gone to Hogwarts yet. The Dursleys would be getting a visit from The White Wolf, that was for sure.
"Then I would simply ask you tell him, that the Americans have a pretty good idea of exactly what happened that night. And we're sorry. If he ever needs a hand, just look up Dean Winchester in Lebanon, Kansas. My twin. He can give the kid a home, and he, our family, and a whole bunch of others would gladly teach him what magic they know. He would be more than welcome, and going to Hogwarts wouldn't be an issue. I know Dumbledore probably wouldn't allow it, but the offer stands. Just tell him."
"...I'll do that, dearie."
I doubted it.
"Thank you. I best be on my way, then. Catch you on the Flip Side."
Take care. If you're ever by this way, just remember, tea is at four."
"I will. Farewell."
I closed the door behind me. She was a nice lady, but she believed far too much in Dumbledore.
I would have to take matters into my own hands.
I discreetly activated my visor. To find a single house marked with no distinguishing characteristics, would certainly take a good…
While.
Found it.
Didn't even half to check the mailbox. The Dursleys were the only people I knew who would make a five year old work in the flowerbed.
Oh, I was going to enjoy this.
After double-checking I still had my gun, knife, and psychic paper, I approached the house. Harry must have gone back inside while I wasn't looking. Either that, or he had been called back in, which could be very bad. I waltzed up to the front door, and rang the bell.
It was a while before it was answered. Almost as if they were quickly hiding something.
I rang the bell again.
Finally, the door swung open.
Vernon Dursley stood in front of me.
Must have been a Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays. This would have gone so much better if it had only been Petunia home. Still, it gave me an opportunity to get rid of the whale.
"Mr. Dursley?"
"Whatever, you're selling, we don't want it!"
"On the contrary, sir. We want you. Commander Winchester," I held up the psychic paper, "at your service."
Vernon's eyes bugged out. Must've been some lie on that sheet.
When he spoke again, it was with a great deal more respect.
"...Would you care to step inside, Commander? I'm sure my wife can fix up some tea in a jiffy."
"That would be quite nice, Dursley. I accept."
I followed him into the living room.
He bellowed in the direction of the kitchen. "PET? PUT THE KETTLE ON! THERE'S A MAN HERE FROM THE MINISTRY!"
He gestured in the direction of the sofa. "If you'll just wait here, sir, I'll be right with you. Got to help the wife, you know."
He made a face I could only describe as a grimace.
"Of course, Dursley. I'll wait."
He turned, and waddled off back towards the kitchen.
"Who're you? Waddyou want?"
I looked down. Sure enough, there was the oinker himself, Dudley Dursley. Already a good bit overweight.
"I'm an officer in the Army, and I've come to talk to your dad. And who might you be?"
"M'Dudley, and I'm the boss around here."
"Are you really?"
"Yep. My dad says so. And he's a very important man, so he ought to know."
"Yes, he really ought to know. Tell me Dudley: who all are you the boss of?"
"M'the boss of dad, mum, Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, Harry…"
"Who's Harry?"
"We're not 'sposed to talk 'bout him."
"Oh? Why's that?"
"He's a freak."
"So? I know lots of freaks, and here I am, talking about them."
"Not freaks like Harry. He can do things. He turned teacher's hair blue."
"Now Dudley, you know that you shouldn't be talking about that."
I looked back up. Vernon had returned from the kitchen.
"Why don't you run upstairs, Dudley? There's plenty of new toys for you to play with."
"But Daaaad…"
"Now Dudley."
Dudley slowed trudged his way off and up the stairs.
"Cute kid."
"Isn't he? Says the darnedest things sometimes, but he never means it."
"I'm sure."
"Pet'll be right out with the tea, it'll be just a moment."
"Actually Dursley, I've come to talk to both you and your wife. If you could call her here for just a minute, I'd appreciate it."
"Of course, of course. PET! COME IN HERE!"
A disheveled Petunia Dursley appeared from around the corridor. Looks like the theories had been right: she was definitely being abused. Probably spent far too long in the kitchen cooking for the whale and pig. I'd have to do something about that.
"What are you standing there for, woman! Sit down! The man has something to tell us!"
Slowly, Petunia sunk down in a chair.
"Now, then. Mr. and Mrs. Dursley. I represent a branch of the government that deals with very confidential, very secret things. Before we go any farther, I must have you verbal acknowledgement that you recognize this. It's not the Official Secrets Act, but it'll do for now."
"Yes, yes, of course. I understand."
"And you, Mrs. Dursley?"
"...I suppose so."
"Good. We can begin."
I tapped twice behind my ear.
Instantly, every light in the house switched off.
All except my glowing visor.
A second later, all the lights came back on, including the TV, which hadn't been on before. My visor had vanished back into its casing.
"...What the HELL WAS THAT!"
"Now, now, Dursley, it's quite alright. That is, if you do as we say."
"WE?!"
"Yes, we. What you just saw was what merely one of us can do with barely a sign, beyond an unfortunate side effect."
"YOU! YOU'RE ONE OF THEM FREAKS!"
"No, I am not, Mr. Dursley. And I resent the implication. I am what the government has created to handle those, 'freaks', as you like to call them."
"...Oh...well that's alright then...if you're government."
"I thought you'd see it that way. Now, it has come to our attention that you are currently providing shelter to one "Potter, Harry". Is that correct?"
"Shelter? Ha! The boy's been eating us out of house and home! He's been nothing but an ungrateful brat! Trouble! That's what he is, trouble!"
"Then you will be very glad to know that he will soon no longer be your problem."
"NO!"
"...Pet?"
"You can't! Dumbledore said so! He said Harry has to stay here, otherwise we.."
Here she slapped her hand over her mouth.
"Yes, we are well aware of what Dumbledore said. He said that you would only be safe, so long as this was Harry's home. But I must tell you rule number one of wizards, Mrs. Dursley: Dumbledore lies. We know about the letters you sent to him. And we know what lies he told when he replied to you. You may not have been able to become a full witch, Mrs. Dursley, but you could have done a very good job as one of us. And Dumbledore couldn't have that. He has been lying to you for years. Especially about Harry. What I am offering you is a chance to get out. Dumbledore merely wanted you to stay here, under his thumb. But as long as you take Harry with you, you can pack up and disappear wherever you like. The protection will remain with you, so long as he considers wherever you are as 'home'."
"Just what are you suggesting to my wife, Commander?"
"It's simple, Dursley. I'm offering your wife, your son, and little Harry a tidy sum of money and an excellent contact group if they will leave Britain...for America. You, of course, will stay behind to keep Dumbledore from suspecting anything."
Dumbledore would probably know right off the bat if Harry left, but I planned to be long gone by then.
"...NO! I WON'T HAVE IT! PET AND DUDLEY ARE STAYING! THEY'RE MINE! YOU CAN TAKE THE FREAK AND LEAVE! NOW!"
"Now, now, Dursley…"
"NOW! OR I'LL KILL YOU!"
"That's all you had to say, Dursley."
*BANG!*
Right between the eyes. Nice.
"Right. Your husband just made a very bad mistake, Mrs. Dursley: he assumed that since we were from the government, that we were good people. We are not good. We are not nice. We want you and your whole family out of Dumbledore's hands and safe. You can either go quietly, or make a mistake just as bad as your husband's."
She appeared to be going into shock. That wouldn't do.
"MRS. DURSLEY."
Her eyes snapped back up.
"DO. YOU. UNDERSTAND."
Slowly, she nodded.
"Good. Now, normally, we would provide transport for you. But any official vehicles would have immediately drawn attention. We're going to have to do something else."
Back up my visor came.
"...There. Three airplane tickets in your name for Lebanon, Kansas just came through on Flight 394, with around a million pounds sterling added to your bank account. You are to take your family car, and drive to the airport, taking Dudley and Harry with you. Dudley is to sit in the back, with Harry hiding in the bottom of the car. Have you got that?"
She nodded again.
"Excellent. You'll take the tickets for the 394 from the desk, and the tickets will tell you where to go next after you arrive in America. Once you get to Lebanon, go to the only bar in town. Ask for a man named Dean Winchester. He'll find you. Tell him a friend of the Assassin sent you. He'll take care of you the rest of the way. I would have liked to do this myself, but it couldn't be helped. From there, you'll have around six years before Dumbledore comes looking. Make sure Harry is back in London on his eleventh birthday, and we can avoid all that. I know its a lot to take in, but can you do it?"
Her eyes met mine. "...Will we be safe?"
"No. But you will be secure. Much more secure or safe than you are here."
"...Then I can do it."
"Good. Let me talk to Harry."
"...He's in the cupboard."
"Of course he is. Harry? You can come out now."
Slowly, the cupboard door swung open.
"...But...Vernon locked it! How?"
"Magic."
And out stepped Harry Potter.
