Chapter 2
A soft boom sounded as lightning streaked across the sky. Two days after the break in at Hogwarts, Harry looked anxiously outside his window. Hedwig still hadn't returned from Ron. It hardly ever took this long for Hedwig to deliver a letter, except for when he wrote to Sirius during his fourth year. At about 3 pm. Uncle Vernon's voice echoed through the hallway. "HARRY!!!!!" In an instant, Harry went running down the stairs. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and his cousin Dudley were all seated at the lunch table eating grapefruit. Dudley was obviously still on the diet from last summer. The diet was actually working, though. Dudley was wearing clothes from two years ago.
Uncle Vernon was holding a letter from Aunt Marge. Some sort of invitation, Harry couldn't exactly tell if it was. "Grim news," Uncle Vernon said with a hint of happiness in his voice. "Your Aunt Marge's dog Ripper died. Dudders, Petunia and I are going to Ripper's funeral." Harry had to hold in a laugh. "You," Uncle Vernon continued, "are staying with Mrs. Figg at her house for a couple of days. We're all going tonight and when we come back, we only want to hear reports of good behavior, you hear, boy?"
Harry nodded rather reluctantly. Mrs. Figg was a rather eccentric person, not Harry's favorite type of person to spend time with. "It's lucky we got her, really. She had been out of town for the past three weeks and only returned two days ago, isn't that right, Petunia?" "Absolutely right," she snapped. "And absolutely none of your abnormality, you hear?" "Yes Aunt Petunia," Harry answered dully. "Harry, eat your share of the grapefruit, you haven't eaten lunch today…" Dudley passed a plate of grapefruit to him. "And go eat it upstairs!" Smirking, Dudley turned back to his own plate. Harry turned and went back to his bedroom. As he put the plate on his desk, he heard a tapping on his window. "Hedwig!" With a surge of happiness, Harry opened his window and dropped a large roll of parchment at his feet. Sitting at his bed, Harry read his letter from Ron.
Dear Harry,
It's good to hear from you again. Enclosed is an edition of the Daily Prophet. Thought you might like them, especially with the point that Rita Skeeter isn't writing anymore! Some exciting stuff has been going on. Dad's been promoted to the Head of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts! He's also gotten a huge payraise! Mum's been very pleased; she's going to throw a party for dad next week. Some one must really favor Fred and George. Mum and Dad found out they had a bag of nearly a thousand Galleons. They told Mum and Dad Mr. Bagman gave it to them a little while ago, but mum and dad don't believe them. No, I haven't heard anything from Hermione. Doing homework, I'm sure. Ginny says hi, by the way. Write back soon,
Ron
Smiling, Harry put the parchment beside his plate and picked up the Daily Prophet. Flipping through it, he saw the pictures mostly smiling or waving at him. He stopped at a picture of Mr. Weasley. But then, he glanced at the clock. He had to be at Mrs. Figg's house in an hour. No magic communication at Mrs. Figg's house. Sighing, Harry packed his bag and went downstairs where the Dursleys were already taking their luggage to the car.
"Come on, boy!" Uncle Vernon snapped. Groaning, Harry answered, "I'm coming Uncle Vernon…" He threw his bag into the trunk and got into the backseat with Dudley, who was playing with his Game Boy Advanced. Interested, Harry leaned towards Dudley. Dudley saw what he was doing though, and hit Harry in the stomach. "Ow!" Harry cried in pain. How dearly Harry wanted to use a hex on Dudley, but then he would break the law that underage wizards can't use magic outside of school. Rubbing where Dudley had hit him, Uncle Vernon started the car and departed from Privet Drive.
Ten minutes later, Uncle Vernon pulled up to the driveway of Mrs. Figg. Harry scrambled out of the car and got his luggage. Uncle Vernon followed Harry to the front door and rang the doorbell. "You'd better behave, boy, or else no meals for a week." Harry merely nodded. Then, Mrs. Figg opened the door. Harry stared. His vision of Mrs. Figg from five years ago had changed somewhat. She looked a whole lot deal shorter ( or maybe because Harry shot up eight inches since his first year at Hogwarts) and clearly looked more livelier.
Last time he saw her, she was wearing deep red robes over a black dress. Now she was…well… multicolored. She had pink pants and a yellow shirt that read 'Majorca' across it. "Hello Harry. You're here for two days?" Before Harry could answer, Uncle Vernon quickly answered, "Two days, yes. Get inside, Harry. I have to discuss something with Mrs. Figg." Harry dragged his luggage into the living room and fell onto the couch. Of all the rooms in Mrs. Figg's house, this one was the strangest. Bookshelves on each wall were crammed with all sorts of books Harry had never really paid attention to before. Stepping closer to one of the bookshelves, he took a glance at some of the titles: Rise and Decline of the Roman Empire, Moby Dick, Phantom of the Opera, Moste Potente Potions, The Count of Monte Cristo… Harry stopped for a second. Moste Potente Potions? It rung a bell, Harry thought. Then it hit him. Harry, Ron and Hermione took that book out of the Restricted Section at Hogwarts during their second year to make a polyjuice potion. How did Mrs. Figg ever get a copy of a wizarding book? Unless she was a witch… but that seemed impossible!
A soft boom sounded as lightning streaked across the sky. Two days after the break in at Hogwarts, Harry looked anxiously outside his window. Hedwig still hadn't returned from Ron. It hardly ever took this long for Hedwig to deliver a letter, except for when he wrote to Sirius during his fourth year. At about 3 pm. Uncle Vernon's voice echoed through the hallway. "HARRY!!!!!" In an instant, Harry went running down the stairs. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and his cousin Dudley were all seated at the lunch table eating grapefruit. Dudley was obviously still on the diet from last summer. The diet was actually working, though. Dudley was wearing clothes from two years ago.
Uncle Vernon was holding a letter from Aunt Marge. Some sort of invitation, Harry couldn't exactly tell if it was. "Grim news," Uncle Vernon said with a hint of happiness in his voice. "Your Aunt Marge's dog Ripper died. Dudders, Petunia and I are going to Ripper's funeral." Harry had to hold in a laugh. "You," Uncle Vernon continued, "are staying with Mrs. Figg at her house for a couple of days. We're all going tonight and when we come back, we only want to hear reports of good behavior, you hear, boy?"
Harry nodded rather reluctantly. Mrs. Figg was a rather eccentric person, not Harry's favorite type of person to spend time with. "It's lucky we got her, really. She had been out of town for the past three weeks and only returned two days ago, isn't that right, Petunia?" "Absolutely right," she snapped. "And absolutely none of your abnormality, you hear?" "Yes Aunt Petunia," Harry answered dully. "Harry, eat your share of the grapefruit, you haven't eaten lunch today…" Dudley passed a plate of grapefruit to him. "And go eat it upstairs!" Smirking, Dudley turned back to his own plate. Harry turned and went back to his bedroom. As he put the plate on his desk, he heard a tapping on his window. "Hedwig!" With a surge of happiness, Harry opened his window and dropped a large roll of parchment at his feet. Sitting at his bed, Harry read his letter from Ron.
Dear Harry,
It's good to hear from you again. Enclosed is an edition of the Daily Prophet. Thought you might like them, especially with the point that Rita Skeeter isn't writing anymore! Some exciting stuff has been going on. Dad's been promoted to the Head of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts! He's also gotten a huge payraise! Mum's been very pleased; she's going to throw a party for dad next week. Some one must really favor Fred and George. Mum and Dad found out they had a bag of nearly a thousand Galleons. They told Mum and Dad Mr. Bagman gave it to them a little while ago, but mum and dad don't believe them. No, I haven't heard anything from Hermione. Doing homework, I'm sure. Ginny says hi, by the way. Write back soon,
Ron
Smiling, Harry put the parchment beside his plate and picked up the Daily Prophet. Flipping through it, he saw the pictures mostly smiling or waving at him. He stopped at a picture of Mr. Weasley. But then, he glanced at the clock. He had to be at Mrs. Figg's house in an hour. No magic communication at Mrs. Figg's house. Sighing, Harry packed his bag and went downstairs where the Dursleys were already taking their luggage to the car.
"Come on, boy!" Uncle Vernon snapped. Groaning, Harry answered, "I'm coming Uncle Vernon…" He threw his bag into the trunk and got into the backseat with Dudley, who was playing with his Game Boy Advanced. Interested, Harry leaned towards Dudley. Dudley saw what he was doing though, and hit Harry in the stomach. "Ow!" Harry cried in pain. How dearly Harry wanted to use a hex on Dudley, but then he would break the law that underage wizards can't use magic outside of school. Rubbing where Dudley had hit him, Uncle Vernon started the car and departed from Privet Drive.
Ten minutes later, Uncle Vernon pulled up to the driveway of Mrs. Figg. Harry scrambled out of the car and got his luggage. Uncle Vernon followed Harry to the front door and rang the doorbell. "You'd better behave, boy, or else no meals for a week." Harry merely nodded. Then, Mrs. Figg opened the door. Harry stared. His vision of Mrs. Figg from five years ago had changed somewhat. She looked a whole lot deal shorter ( or maybe because Harry shot up eight inches since his first year at Hogwarts) and clearly looked more livelier.
Last time he saw her, she was wearing deep red robes over a black dress. Now she was…well… multicolored. She had pink pants and a yellow shirt that read 'Majorca' across it. "Hello Harry. You're here for two days?" Before Harry could answer, Uncle Vernon quickly answered, "Two days, yes. Get inside, Harry. I have to discuss something with Mrs. Figg." Harry dragged his luggage into the living room and fell onto the couch. Of all the rooms in Mrs. Figg's house, this one was the strangest. Bookshelves on each wall were crammed with all sorts of books Harry had never really paid attention to before. Stepping closer to one of the bookshelves, he took a glance at some of the titles: Rise and Decline of the Roman Empire, Moby Dick, Phantom of the Opera, Moste Potente Potions, The Count of Monte Cristo… Harry stopped for a second. Moste Potente Potions? It rung a bell, Harry thought. Then it hit him. Harry, Ron and Hermione took that book out of the Restricted Section at Hogwarts during their second year to make a polyjuice potion. How did Mrs. Figg ever get a copy of a wizarding book? Unless she was a witch… but that seemed impossible!