Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to J. K. Rowling

Chapter 5:

Harry had two letters from Hermione in that week, sent by normal post, and an owl from Ron that surprised Harry with the number of misspellings he managed to get into such a short letter. It was no wonder that he always had Hermione check his homework for him. She was apt to grab his own homework as well. For months, he'd been trying to tactfully tell her that he preferred she not do that. But it was important to have friends, and he would do a lot to avoid offending either Hermione or Ron. Ron. Ron was his first true friend - ever. He treasured his friendship with Ron.

He also had a thick letter from Gringotts that contained a statement of the contents of his trust vault, plus a comprehensive list of his other holdings. It was impressive, but the cover note stated plainly, 'Duplicate copy, original to guardian, Albus Dumbledore.' Guardian? Nothing he had ever heard had said anything about Dumbledore actually being his guardian!

And he seemed to have a lot of money, not just the vault he had seen which was labelled as a 'trust vault' for his education and keep while he was underage. Maybe the goblins didn't like Dumbledore either. And three properties listed. Why hadn't he known about that? Why didn't the Dursleys know about them? And why were they not paid some sort of allowance for his keep? There were so many questions that should be answered. He thought it just wasn't very fair. He was only eleven, and yet he had to somehow work out everything for himself, and with one set of guardians who had always treated him badly, and another guardian in the magical world who could not be trusted.

The Flamels hadn't answered. He was disappointed, but not surprised. Nothing in his past had led him to expect help from grownups. And he was more and more worried by the behaviour of his uncle. Twice more he had found him muttering about punishing the boy and not leaving permanent marks, and once he had nodded to someone only he saw, and had agreed, "Yes, he is a Freak. Call him Freak. And make him work. Yes, Yes, that's right, that's what I'll do." He'd muttered on, but Harry had heard enough. Vernon had been interfered with, almost certainly by Dumbledore, and it was making him mad. Not angry mad, but truly mad. He might never have liked his relatives, but he didn't want harm to come to them, either, especially as it would have been because of him. Not his fault, but all the same, because of him.

He wondered if his uncle would be more normal if he started allowing himself to be abused again instead of trying hard to avoid it, but decided that he was not that noble. In any case, the way that Vernon became so enraged at times, but then standing helpless, baffled - the way he was, he might kill Harry if he let loose. He was allowed to try and defend himself with magic if it was self defence, he knew that.

But maybe there was a better way. Maybe if he did ask for help, maybe from the Ministry of Magic. His first thought was to go to Ron, whose father worked at the Ministry. Would Mr. Weasley go to Dumbledore? Ron thought that Dumbledore was awesome. A bit mad sometimes, but a wizard to be trusted implicitly. And that trust was a pretty good indication that Mr. Weasley would also be a follower. Maybe whoever he spoke to at the Ministry would also be a follower. It was a risk, but when he found his uncle just sitting on the front step, muttering and shaking, he concluded that he had to take the risk. He just hoped that it would not mean punishment for himself. There was no reason for him to be punished, but that had seldom stopped punishments in the past.

He didn't ask for a lift into London this time. It was better if he kept his distance from Vernon. So a walk to the station, and then an Express into London, then another walk to the Leaky Cauldron. He was able to remember the order of tapping the bricks more easily this time, and Tom had assured him that tapping the particular bricks with his wand was not working 'underage magic.'

Finding the Ministry of Magic proved easier than he'd expected. He had treated himself to an extra-special large ice-cream, and the chap there, Florean Fortescue himself, he thought, had pointed and said 'just to the right.' Following instructions, Harry thought he should have seen it before, an ornate entrance just off to the side of Diagon Alley, prominently marked. It was a secondary entrance he'd been told, as most people simply flooed. Harry didn't know what 'flooed' was, but assumed it was some sort of magical travel he just hadn't heard of before, though he had heard of apparating.

Timidly he approached the witch who sat at a large desk that almost blocked the passage way, and asked who he should see because he thought that a wizard had illegally used magic on a Muggle. The witch glanced at him incuriously, asked his name, and gave him a badge. 'Harry Potter,' and 'reporting a crime.' And then she asked for his wand. Reluctantly, Harry handed it over, relieved when she only put it on some sort of a device and returned it. He was instructed to wait and an auror would be with him shortly.

So Harry waited, standing against the wall as there were no chairs, but within five minutes, a tall woman, powerfully built with short blonde hair, came striding towards them from a side corridor, cape swinging around her. She looked impressive, a little fearsome. The receptionist said formally, "Auror Smythe, this is the complainant."

"Harry Potter?"

The receptionist suddenly alerted and looked at her own notes. It appeared she hadn't taken note of the name, and now she looked keenly at Harry. But Harry had his scar disguised, and was wearing the wig besides.

The auror said curtly, "Come with me," and Harry nervously followed her as she strode back down the corridor.

There was a small office then, and she questioned him closely, first establishing that he was really Harry Potter, whose parents had been killed by Voldemort, (she said Voldemort, not 'You-Know-Who') and then she sat back in her chair and invited him to tell her where he lived. It briefly occurred to Harry that Dumbledore might not approve of him divulging his address, but then he shrugged and told her whatever she asked. He reckoned that the Ministry would have his address on record anyway, and they must know who he was living with. Surely there was some sort of a Child Welfare Department.

She finally asked, "So you are saying that someone has used magic on a Muggle?"

"My uncle. I think someone has told him to insult me all the time, to knock me about and to make me work very hard. His wife might have been influenced as well, as she didn't help, and often, she would not let me have enough to eat. But she seems to be okay now, while my uncle sits and mutters to himself, things like 'Punish him, call him Freak,' and he is frightened of something and can't say what because he does not remember. I think someone wanted him to make me suffer, but he is fighting it now, and it is sending him mad."

The auror frowned, had him explain further, and then called a wizard she called Carl. "Mr. Perlkins is an expert in the mind arts," she briefly told Harry. And then Perlkins interrogated Harry for the next twenty minutes, and finally asked, "So who might do such a thing? And why?"

"Well," Harry said, "All I can think of is that a supporter of Voldemort might like to see me abused. The 'Boy-Who-Lived' and all that."

"You could be right. So how do you think I should approach this uncle of yours?"

"They are terrified of wizards and magic. You would have to look like a Muggle, maybe not tell him what you are."

The man nodded and looked at the auror. "What do you think, Barbara?"

The auror said decisively, "We will investigate, maybe not noise it about for the moment."

"You think it could be someone powerful behind it?"

"Likely."

"The boy?"

Harry frowned at that. He'd been 'the boy' too often, but he had decided to resist that appellation. It always sounded as if he was worthless, and he was not worthless. Had he not defeated Voldemort? Possibly twice if he really had defeated him as a baby.

But the auror, Auror Smythe, or Barbara as the man had called her, said to him, quite kindly, "Would you mind amusing yourself for a couple of hours, don't go home for the moment, and return here at noon. Keep your badge and I will tell the one on the desk to bring you straight to this office."

Harry smiled at her gratefully. He'd been taken seriously, and it almost sounded as if he could relax now. The grownups would take care of it, but he pulled himself up short at that thought. He knew that grownups could not be trusted. He must not allow himself to forget that.

It was not even two weeks since school had broken up, and he had achieved a great deal in that time. If only no-one told Dumbledore what he was up to. Glasses. He needed better glasses. He'd do that first, but also maybe he should check with a Healer. The only other wizard he knew who wore glasses was Dumbledore, and he was very old. Would two hours be enough to find an optometrist? It was so long since he'd been to one, when he was five, and he thought then that the school nurse had had something to do with it.

By the time he returned to the Ministry, Harry was wearing a new pair of glasses, and had a spare pair in the bag he carried. There were other new purchases, a T-shirt that he'd taken a fancy to, but also two pairs of warm winter pyjamas and even a dressing gown. He didn't want to wear rags ever again, and now he knew of the wealth waiting for him, he didn't intend to. If only no-one stopped him doing what he needed to do. And his mind went to Dumbledore, supposedly his guardian. Even if he hadn't been responsible for Vernon's aggression, and Petunia's stinginess with food, he had done a very poor job as guardian.

This time, the receptionist pushed her buzzer the moment she saw him, and he was quickly ushered into that same office and the door firmly closed. The auror said in her clear, incisive voice, "You were right, Harry. Mr. Perlkins examined your uncle and removed that instruction and the threat. He will be a lot happier now once he recovers."

"Once he recovers?" Harry asked nervously.

"The cover story is that he had a heart attack, and since it was severe, some memory loss can be expected. He will be two weeks in hospital, but Carl told me there will be no lasting ill effects. Your aunt was similarly affected, but as you said, was not suffering as much. She was treated as well, but we only had to detain her for a short time, and she is fine now, does not remember any new contact from wizards, and is probably still visiting her husband at the hospital."

"An ordinary hospital?"

"It will appear an ordinary hospital, and most of the patients are normal people, not wizards. The patients are not charged. And the cover story is a good one. With your uncle, a heart attack was likely, especially with the stress he was under."

"I've seen him go almost purple with rage sometimes," Harry remarked. And then, "Who did it, do you think?"

"There is no way to tell," the auror said, and for the first time, Harry thought she might be lying.

"Am I to stay with them?"

"There are very strong wards around the immediate neighbourhood, so I think it best you stay there, at least for the time being."

"Wards. That means no-one can get to me there, is that right?"

"A strong wizard can break wards, but it takes time. We thought it best not to approach the house at all."

Harry wondered if Dumbledore might be monitoring the wards somehow, but didn't ask. Dumbledore had not been mentioned, and maybe even they didn't know that he was supposed to be a sort of guardian, at least if the Gringotts goblins were correct, and they probably were. Maybe it was only to do with his legacy that Dumbledore was involved. In any case, he chose not to mention his name in case the auror thought he should be notified. He really didn't want the headmaster to know anything of what he was doing.

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