Harry Potter watched the television set in the dining room while eating his breakfast, out of sheer boredom. The Dursley's eyes were on the set as well. Well, Dudley's eyes were roving around the table, seeing if anyone had left their banana untouched. His two-year –long diet was still in effect, but as for having any effect…
Suddenly, Uncle Vernon switched off the set and turned to look around at the rest of the family.
"Hey!" protested Dudley.
"Just a minute, Dudley, I have an announcement to make." Uncle Vernon was smiling.
"Uh, oh," thought Harry. If Uncle Vernon was smiling, this was not good.
"Well, I have finally gotten things settled down with the Masons (at this point, he turned around to glare at Harry), and they have agreed to buy a large portion of Grunnings' shares. Well, this means that we can finally have our vacation trip to Majorca!"
Aunt Petunia literally squealed and hugged Uncle Vernon. Dudley just pasted a grin onto his pig-like face. Harry sat still. Majorca sounded nice and all, but going there with the Dursley's was not his idea of a vacation.
He got up to leave.
"Where are you going, boy?"
"Upstairs."
"Well, don't pack. You're not coming."
Dudley sniggered. Harry tried hard not to smile with relief and answered, "That's not fair!" It was better to make Uncle Vernon think he didn't want to go.
"Petunia, dear, will you call Mrs. Figg and see if she will accept to have Harry stay at her house for the next two weeks, starting tomorrow?"
Harry's aunt scurried off to call Mrs. Figg, while Harry tried to put a look of disappointment on his face. Two weeks without the Dursley's, and that too, during summer! Then he thought of Mrs. Figg. She was a nice old lady, he thought, but he really didn't want to spend two weeks listening about cats. Oh well, anything was better than Dudley.
Aunt Petunia came back, with a huge smile on her face. Harry supposed that this meant Mrs. Figg had agreed.
"Mrs. Figg said she would take him, as long as he didn't mind the fact that she was also taking care of another child, a girl about his age."
"A girl, eh? Well, you better not get into any mischief, my boy, or you'll be getting it from us."
Harry grimaced. Having someone his age around would be nice, but getting into mischief?
Harry lugged his luggage down to the front door. He was to walk down to Mrs. Figg's house, and it was lucky for him he didn't pack much. He hadn't packed any of his wizarding items either, except his wand. He always felt safe with his wand about. He went to the Dursley's who were seated in the living room, watching TV. "Well, bye then."
Uncle Vernon, perhaps remembering what happened the last time he hadn't said bye to his nephew, grunted his response. Dudley sneered at him, and Aunt Petunia just glared. Harry left the room as quickly as possible.
About fifteen minutes later, he was on the porch of Mrs. Figg's house. He rang the doorbell.
Mrs. Figg threw open the door with force surprising for her age. "Harry! Come in," she said, ushering him inside. She closed the door behind him. Your room is upstairs, Harry, second one to the left. You can just throw your luggage inside and come back down for your lunch." While she was talking, Harry was staring at her face. She looked younger for some reason. Harry put it down as his imagination and climbed upstairs. When he had reached his door, he pushed it open and laid his suitcase down. He heard someone walk past the door, and turned around. He didn't see anyone. He realized it must've been the girl that was staying here as well.
He walked back downstairs, curious as to what she looked at. He grinned as he thought of what Hermione would be yelling at him. Probably something along the lines of not wondering how nice she was, or how smart she was.
He stepped into the kitchen where he found Mrs. Figg. In the light streaming in from the kitchen skylights, there was no doubt about it, she was definitely looked younger. She heard him and turned around.
"Your housemate is waiting to meet you. I haven't told her who you are yet, so she'll definitely be surprised when she sees you." She grinned mysteriously, but it wasn't the wrinkled one of an old lady. "She's waiting to meet you in the living room," she told him.
Harry, trying to figure out what was up with Mrs. Figg, walked into the living room.
"Harry?!"
He looked up, surprise in his green eyes. That voice was familiar.
"Parvati?!" The both stared at each other, shock showing on their faces.
"B-but how?" Harry sputtered.
"Why are—," Parvati began at the same time.
"Ah, I see you two have met."
They both spun around to meet Mrs. Figg.
"Bella, why didn't you tell me he was coming?"
"Bella?" Harry asked faintly.
"Actually, Arabella's the name." Mrs. Figg, or Arabella, looked like she was enjoying herself immensely. "Arabella Figg."
"Arabella Figg?" Harry asked incredulously. He had heard that name somewhere. "Wait! You're part of the old crowd!"
"Ah, Dumbledore must've mentioned me."
At the mention of Dumbledore, Harry had to sit down. "Y-you're a witch?"
"Of course she is!" Parvati shouted. Harry stared at her blankly. He had forgotten about her.
"Yes, I am, Harry. Let me explain. Parvati, you can listen too." She looked at Harry. "Harry, do you know why Dumbledore makes sure you are in the care of your aunt and uncle?"
"He says I'm safer here or something."
"Yes, you are, Harry. You see, I am in the near vicinity to take care of you if anything bad should happen. When Dumbledore asked me if I would take care of you, I immediately agreed, because your mother and I were best friends."
This was too much for Harry. "You were friends with my mother?!"
"Yes, I was. So I have been taking Aging Potion, and I have been living quietly as a little old lady."
"Wow, Bella, that was really nice of you," Parvati interjected. "I mean, living like a Muggle and everything." Harry turned to look at her.
"And what are you doing here?" he asked sounding mean, even though he hadn't meant to.
Parvati bristled. "Bella is my godmother, for your information, Harry. She's taking care of me while my parents take care of Padma."
"Your godmother? And what's wrong with Padma?"
Bella answered the latter question. "Padma has something like the chicken pox."
"Oh."
"And I am Parvati's and Padma's godmother because I am also very good friends with her mother."
"Was my mother friends with her mother too?" Harry asked.
"Yes, we were all great friends. Your father used to call us the three musketeers."
"Oh." Harry didn't know what to say.
Parvati did. "Can we puzzle this out later? I'm starving!"
Wow, sometimes i don't even know what to expect out of my little typing machines(those would be my fingers).
Thanks to Skyiela, Magelet(You like the title? Thanks!), Miss Hermie, glo_stik, KE Heyduk, hershey gal, fatima, sailor new moon(I'm a peaceful soul, please don't send in troops), yola, Fenaily(I hope you know what you're talking about), K.t. Malfoy, Silvestria(h/h? Well, sorry for dissapointing you, but it's not going to be, I'm sorry), Helena Darjeeling(Six stories?! Egad! i'll be lucky if i finsih this one), and Janice P. for reviewing.
~Su