Harry, for once, was feeling happy and joyful. He was staying at Ms. Figg's house for the rest of the holidays (one week), along with Sirius. He didn't know how Ms. Figg convinced the Dursleys, all he had done was finish his conversation with Sirius out in the backyard and had walked in to find the Dursleys sneering at him. "You're staying at Ms. Figg's house for the rest of the holidays, and she will be--delighted--to see you off of King's Cross to go to St. Brutus's." Vernon said, stressing the words "St. Brutus's" and acting as though Ms. Figg was out of her mind for taking him in.
Harry, ecstatic, packed up his trunk quickly and headed out with Ms. Figg and Sirius in dog form. Out of eyesight from the peering eyes of Petunia, Ms. Figg made Harry's trunk feather light and he carried it easily. He also remembered having a very interesting conversation with them:
"Are you Arabella Figg?" Harry had asked.
Ms. Figg glanced at him swiftly, then answered, "No, but my daughter is."
"You have a daughter?" Harry asked. It suddenly occurred to him that he didn't know anything about Ms. Figg anymore, now that her true identity had been revealed.
"Yes, I do. She's helping with the fight against Voldemort." Harry was even more suprised that she said Voldemort's name rather than You-Know-Who. "Snuffles came here to alert me, also--I play a small part in the resistance, also." There was the smallest hint of worry in her voice, but it was so quick that Harry wondered if he imagined it. Suddenly, she had turned her grave eyes to his own, and there was a motherly affection to them. He was slightly embarrassed, but then again, he hadn't received any comfort except at Hogwarts and was slightly cheered up from the grave conversation.
"Why didn't you tell me that you were a witch?" Harry said, feeling slightly angry that another magical person had been living so close to him all this time and hadn't mentioned his inheritance.
Ms. Figg smiled. "I wanted to, dear, believe me, but when my husband was killed by Death Eaters--" Harry was once again suprised, this time because she talked about the death of a loved one so calmly. "--I isolated myself from the magical community. I came here and lived as a Muggle, and one day Albus came to and said that Voldemort had met his downfall by a certain baby boy. You. He asked me to keep an eye on you and make sure you were safe."
Harry didn't have any reply but "Oh."
But now, he was in the spare bedroom of Ms. Figg's house, with Sirius in the next room. Sirius was being very parental, not like the old Sirius Harry knew at all. He constantly asked Harry how he was feeling, and to be truthful, it was kind of getting annoying...he'd never tell for hurting his feelings, however.
He was actually bored--he had sent his maximum amount of letters for the weeks to Ron and Hermione, telling him of his new situation and asking them how they were, mostly. He had just received a letter from Hermione yesterday, informing him that she had become a Prefect. Her letter was joyful:
"H,
I became a Prefect! With all the rules we break, I'd never have
suspected it! Oh dear, this has so many responsibilities to accomplish,
how ever will I make it through? I've already done my homework, except
that I have to revise my summer essay to include this honor...maybe I should
go over the Prefects Handbook that I got in Diagon Alley once more..."
Harry also had received his letter from Hogwarts, reminding him to catch the train at King's Cross on September first and giving him a list of fifth year books. Most of his books were advanced, now, so they probably would be a lot harder to learn all of it, with the threat of Voldemort always there...
He stared out of his window, brooding over the events of last year. He couldn't help it. He'd gotten over some of the guilt about Cedric's death--that nagging voice that reminded him it wasn't it fault worked a little bit. He still couldn't help but run through the "what ifs" through his mind. What if he hadn't been noble and just taken the Cup himself? Then Cedric would be alive, just completing his last year at Hogwarts, instead of in a box in the ground in an eternal sleep.
Meanwhile, a knock sounded on the door.
"Come in," Harry said, not being used to all the privacy, the Dursleys just charged in.
Sirius poked his head in the room. "Just wanted to let you know that Bell and I are going to look at some old photos and wondered if you would join us."
"Bell?" Harry asked. "Oh, wait, Ms. Figg--sure, I'll be right down." Sirius left, his feet echoing down the stairs. Harry gave one last glance at his window and trooped downstairs.
He entered the living room to find Sirius and Arabella pouring over a photo album. Suddenly Ms. Figg gave a giant howl of laughter and Sirius buried his face in his hands, beet-red. "What is it?" Harry cried, rushing over to find out what could be so embarrassing for his Godfather.
Ms. Figg, still laughing, managed to choke out, "Look--Sirius--" Harry leaned over and burst out laughing at the sight. It was Sirius at about sixteen, standing near his prized motorbike. His hair was dyed a bright pink, as was his bike, and the camera caught him in a candid moment when he obviously first saw his "new look"...his expression was torn between shock and dismay.
"Who did that?" Harry was still chuckling.
"Your charming father and equally charming ex-Professor," Sirius grumbled, still quite red in the face.
Harry could only laugh harder in response.
***
***
"Leaky Cauldron!" Harry shouted into the warm emerald flames. He felt a whirling sensation engulf him, he was spinning out of control...he tried to hold his breath, but the journey took too long and he was forced to inhale some air. Immediately he wished he hadn't, the taste of Floo Powder made him feel sick...
Then he landed (not so suitably) on the floor of the Leaky Cauldron, in the back of the room. As he was getting up, brushing soot off his robes and trying to look halfway decent, Tom came up to him and shook his hand vigorously. "Hello, Harry, how are you?"
"Pretty good, you?"
"Just fine, just fine," Tom replied, beaming. At that moment, Ms. Figg tumbled out of the fireplace.
"Damn fireplace..." she muttered, then turned to Harry and Tom. "Why, hello Tom!" she exclaimed, and they carried on a conversation not very different from the one Harry just had. To his relief, Ms. Figg didn't chat much and soon she turned to him, asking him if he was ready to go and get his school supplies. When he complied, they set off behind the pub and tapped the special brick that allowed them to Diagon Alley.
The bright sun gleamed in the sky as wizards and witches moved here and there carrying large sacks and moneybags. Harry couldn't help but notice that there seemed to be fewer people on the streets than usual; no doubt because of Voldemort's return. They probably didn't feel safe wandering around in broad daylight.
"Let's go to Gringotts, shall we?" Ms. Figg said. Harry nodded, and they headed off towards giant building, climbing the giant steps and entering. Ms. Figg presented them with the keys to their vaults, and a sickening cart ride later, they were at Harry's vault. Like always, he hated other people seeing his vault, seeing all his wealth...it made him more famous. So he quickly stuffed the gold, silver, and brown pieced into his bag and clambered back into the cart, where it took them to Ms. Figg's vault. Her vault was about half as full as Harry's, however, nearly every piece in there was a Galleon.
There was an equally sickening cart ride back to the front doors, but soon enough they were standing in the bright sunshine of the street. "I need some potion ingredients. I'll go get them, and you can go into Flourish and Blotts for your new books. Stay there," Ms. Figg added sternly. Since it would take awhile to get his new schoolbooks--there were so many--Harry had no intention to wander off.
The slightly musty bookstore made Harry think he had entered a fog. Trying his best to ignore the mist around him, he walked up to the nearest clerk and asked politely, "Where can I get Standard Book of Spells, Year Five?"
The clerk turned to him and pointed to a rack of books on the far left of the store. "Right there with the other fifth year books," he grunted.
"Thanks," Harry replied, and he walked over. He grabbed each of the ones he needed, including Standard Book of Spells, Year Five; An Advanced Guide to Transfiguration; Defending Yourself Against the Dark Arts; and Unfogging the Future, Copy Two.
More selecting followed, and before he knew it, he was standing outside the door, waiting for Ms. Figg to show up. He only had to wait a minute or two and then she appeared right to his side, startling him. He sighed when it was only her and, covering up his embarrassment, said, "Where next?"
The answer from Ms. Figg never came, for a familiar voice shouted, "Harry!" Harry turned around and saw the Weasleys all rushing over to him. "What's new?" Ron asked, being the first to reach his side.
"Nothing much," Harry responded. "Hi, Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley."
"Hello dear!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, looking like she could hardly restrain from hugging him.
Another red head came running up to them, and Harry recognized it as Ginny. "Hey Ginny," he said.
Ginny just noticed him standing there. "Oh, hi Harry," she said warmly. Harry could scarcely recognize her personality...what happened to her swooning over him and acting extremely clumsy when he was around? He couldn't say that he wasn't happy that she wasn't worshipping the ground he walked on, but it was a change.
Everyone chattered for a minute or two, catching up on old times ("Bell! Honestly, I haven't seen you in so long!") before Ron asked impatiently, "Mum, can we go now?"
Mrs. Weasley gave them the usual lecture on staying together and keeping out of trouble, her eyes resting on Harry for a moment and giving him a meaningful glance. She gave her okay, as did Mrs. Figg, and Harry, Ron, and Ginny were off. They happily wandered from shop to shop, getting more supplies and splurging a bit. As they were walking towards Quidditch Quality Supplies, Harry asked how the twins and their joke shop was going.
"Some nutter gave them a thousand Galleons to invest in their shop! One thousand Galleons, Harry! Who in their right mind would do that?" Ron exclaimed in a kind of pride as Harry tried not to look suspicious.
"A waste of money," came a cold, drawling voice from behind them. Harry,
Ron, and Ginny whirled around to come face-to-face with Draco Malfoy. But
he wasn't the only one standing there. Staring into Harry, eyes boring
holes into his, stood Lucius Malfoy.
