A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed!
I'm happy that you liked Voldie the way I wrote him – truth be told I was kinda afraid that you might send me flames telling that I'm totally off my rocker… *giggles*
Silverfox: I'm glad that you liked Wormtail as a "housewife" and Nagini as a "dog".
KobeG: you wrote: "LMAO at the part about Voldemort sending Wormtail to pay his bills… I can honestly say that I have never heard Voldie utter those words in a fic before." Hm… you'll hear the characters say stranger things in the future… so be prepared! :-)
And now, on to the show with the Dursleys!
Chapter 9
Back at the Dursleys'
"I had to send him back to his Muggle relatives in order to secure his peace, and that of the school." Dumbledore informed Ginny, Ron and Hermione in his office. "I hope you understand that."
"Of, course, Professor." Hermione nodded. "That mob wouldn't have given him peace, had he stayed here."
"And… when will he be back?" Ginny asked timidly.
"Soon, my little one, soon." Albus gave her an encouraging smile. "I know how you are feeling now. You are confused, scared, and you already miss him, don't you?"
The youngest Weasley blushed. "I don't deny it."
"You'll get him back as soon as we can get rid of this scum and life in the Hogwarts castle goes back to normal."
"And when will that happen, Professor?" Ron asked. Somehow he wasn't too optimistic about the journalists leaving Hogwarts of their own free will.
"Oh, don't worry, Mr. Weasley." Dumbledore chuckled. "I've seen to that they wouldn't want to enjoy our hospitality for a long time. Hagrid is going to help me."
"Oh, if Hagrid is involved, then I'm not worried anymore." Ron sighed. "But what are you planning, sir?"
"Let me not reveal it to you yet." the headmaster smiled, his blue eyes twinkling with eternal youth. Ron, Hermione and Ginny were sure that such a look could mean only one thing: Dumbledore was planning something pretty mischievous.
* * * * *
Harry fell out of the fireplace, his glasses sliding down on his nose, but fortunately not breaking.
"Good that you are coming, boy, would you please give Betty and Wilma those tins of Whiskas over there, on the kitchen table?" Mrs. Figg greeted him, sitting in an armchair, fondling two cats that were wearing pink ribbons around their necks. "You know, my legs aren't the same they used to be twenty years ago." she smiled.
"Oh, of course, madam." Harry stood up, readjusted his robes. "By the way, you don't look too surprised that I'm here."
"Oh, of course not." the old woman snickered. "I also read the newspapers, Harry boy. I was expecting something like you leaving the school, and knowing Dumbledore, I expected him to send you back to your uncle's. And of course I know that Vernon Dursley has a boarded-up fireplace, so drawing the conclusion, I was the only one to whom you could arrive through the Floo-network." Harry looked at the elderly witch with his mouth agape. Good old crazy Mrs. Figg was smarter then he thought. "Yes, and please pour some milk into the kitties' plates, will you?"
"Oh, sure." Harry entered the kitchen, took the dozes of Whiskas and the bottle of milk and went back into the living room.
He was just about to pour milk into the two pink plates on the floor, as two other cats burst into the living room.
"Out with you, boys!" the old woman yelled at them. "You have already got your dinner, you insatiable tykes!" she turned to Harry. "Please, son, grab them and put them out. Fred and Barney have already had their meals. Now it is Wilma and Betty's turn."
Harry complied, tossing the two male kitties out the door. "How are your other cats, Mrs. Figg?" he asked politely. He didn't remember the old woman ever owning cats named after the Flintstones. They must be new, he thought.
"My… my other kitties…?" Mrs. Figg's eyes filled with tears. "They… oh, so terrible, son! A steamroller came, and…" she buried her face into her hands.
Harry dropped to his knees beside the armchair, placing a hand on the old witch's arm.
"I didn't want to remind you of anything terrible, I'm sorry."
Mrs. Figg looked up, a small smile on her tear-soaked face. "You are a good boy, Harry Potter. A very good boy."
"I don't think so." he sighed, diverting his eyes from the old lady. He felt guilty again. He felt ashamed of having flown from Hogwarts, leaving Ginny behind, exposing her to the journalists' pleasure.
"She'll be all right. Albus is going to look after her." Arabella Figg said.
Harry looked up. "How do you know…"
"Don't worry, I'm not a mind-reader." she giggled. "I just guessed what you could be thinking, young man. And I meant it: Dumbledore won't let her be harmed. The journalists aren't after her… it's you they want. Ginny'll be safe, and will be yours… soon."
A faint smile appeared on Harry's face. "I love her so much, Mrs. Figg. I want to go back to her, never leave her…"
"I understand that, son. But first you have to wait until the scandal has spent itself. Then you'll go back to her."
Harry nodded, and poured milk into two small plates. Wilma and Betty jumped down from the old witch's lap and ran to their plates.
"Um, can I ask something?" the boy turned to Arabella.
"Obviously, you've just done so." she chuckled.
*Wow, she replied the same as Dumbledore did six years ago.* Harry thought. He was surprised that he still remembered the headmaster's words after such a long time, and he was surprised by the realisation too, that old Mrs. Figg had the same way of thinking as Dumbledore.
"Well, I was just wondering why you named your new cats after the Flintstones."
"Oh, that…" Arabella giggled. "I was contemplating to name them after the Simpsons, but none of my new kitties looked a bit like Homer. That's the story of it."
"I see." Harry grinned and stood up. "I guess I'd better go to Uncle Vernon's. The sooner I get it over with, the better."
The elderly lady nodded. "Good luck, son. You'll need it."
* * * * *
The doorbell of 4. Privet Drive buzzed.
"Dudley, open the door!" Petunia shouted from upstairs.
"I'm watching Cow and Chicken, mom!" the boy yelled back. "Do it yourself!"
Mrs. Dursley came downstairs. She didn't want to disturb her dear 'little' son's entertainment, now that he was back for the autumn break.
She walked to the door, hearing a loud belch from the TV, then another one following it. Cow must have burped, Dudley trying to imitate it. According to Dudley, no one could belch as well as his favourite cartoon figure.
So, Petunia walked to the door, expecting to see a postman with some bills, or a pizza boy with a great pepperoni-curry pizza.
She opened the door, let out a small squeal and slammed it shut before the robed visitor.
"What happened, mom?" Dudley shouted from the living room. Cow and chicken had just ended, but he still didn't want to leave the screen, because Pokemon was about to begin, and after that there would be another episode of Two stupid dogs.
"It's… it's no one, dear…" Petunia mumbled. "Just an impudent beggar, dear, don't worry."
"Who's worried?" Dudley shrugged, reaching out for a new package of chips.
Petunia stumbled into the living room, dropping down next to her son. She was shaking.
"Stop that, mom!" Dudley yelled at her. "Go and be afraid somewhere else. I want to watch Pokemon!"
"Oh, of course, sweetums." Petunia tried to smile, stood up and headed for the kitchen, but stopped at midway.
*It was Harry… Harry! What the hell could he be doing here right now?* her mind screamed with terror. They hadn't seen their nephew for more than a year, since he moved to live with his godfather, after that Sirius White or who had been spoken innocent. That wretched mass-murderer godfather of his! When they last saw Harry, he told them that he'd never come back, unless he felt like turning them into hairy slugs.
Petunia shuddered. Harry was here! He came back to avenge them for having treated him so badly for fifteen years!
The day of reckoning had finally come!
Petunia was close to losing her consciousness.
She headed for the kitchen door, but didn't enter. *What if he blows up the whole house if I don't open the door? He isn't underage anymore, so his use of magic isn't restricted by any wizard law! Oh my gosh, he could even…* "Dudley!" she screamed, running back into the living room, checking whether her dear little boy had been turned into a pig in a wig, or not.
No. Dudley was still there, watching Pokemon. "Go, Pikachu, slash them! Wipe them out, all of them!" he shouted.
Mrs. Dursley put her hands on her chest, heaving a relieved sigh. Her only beloved ickle Dudlicky was unharmed.
But what if… what if Harry Potter was still standing at the door, contemplating which curse to use on them?
"No!" she yelled, making Dudley jump, and ran into the hall.
"Okay, what do you want?" she ripped the door open. "Want to turn us into some vampire bats? Ok, go ahead, enjoy yourself, but never ever forget that without us you wouldn't be still alive!" her eyes were sending murderous fire-bolts at her nephew.
Harry knitted his eyebrows. "What are you talking about, Aunt Petunia?"
"You have come to get revenge, haven't you?" she yelled, so loudly, that even the neighbours started to get interested in the events going on at the Dursleys'.
"What? Oh, my, no!" the boy shook his head. "Actually I'm seeking refuge by you."
"Ref…refuge?" Petunia stammered. "Are you on the run?"
"Well, kind of." he turned red. "But it won't last long, I promise. Only a couple of weeks, and I can go back. Will you let me in?"
The boy must be lying, Petunia thought. He was planning to avenge them, wasn't he? But… what if he decided to give them a last chance – to give them the opportunity to make everything good? What if he wanted to decide whether to turn them into cockroaches or not, after having tried their hospitality once more? What if…?
"Oh, sure!" she forced herself to smile. "Make yourself at home, nephew mine." she took him by the hand, leading him into the hall. "Dudley, come and greet our guest!" she yelled.
"Leave me alone, Pikachu is just flattening everyone and the other pokemons are tearing each other into little pieces!"
"I said come, NOW!" Petunia shouted, her voice peremptory.
"Okaaaay… coming." the fat boy stood up with a furious look on his face. He was about to miss the great massacre at the end, he fumed. He entered the hall, then froze.
"M…mom… this… this is… H…Harry…" he muttered, realising that he couldn't move any part of his body, but his mouth.
"Yes, dear, your cousin decided to visit us. Isn't is wonderful?" Petunia gave her son a huge smile. "Dudley, go outside and bring Harry's packages!"
"Whaaaat?" the boy asked, his eyes wide.
"Oh, no need for that, aunt, I have no packages." Harry said modestly. "But thanks, anyway. Could I have something for dinner? Like… stale bread?"
"Stale bread? But Harry!" his aunt clasped her hands, shaking her head in disbelief. "You are our guest, dear. You deserve the…" at that moment the doorbell buzzed. She opened the door, to see the pizza-boy standing there. "… greatest pepperoni-curry pizza you have ever seen, Harry, dear."
"Huh?" Dudley looked at his mother. She must have gone crazy. Giving HIS pizza to Harry? He shook his head. This couldn't be possibly happening to him, could it?
About an hour later Harry was already asleep in the smallest bedroom, dreaming of his Ginny: she was wearing a beautiful white gown, that was somehow glittering in the candlelight of Hogwarts' Great Hall. Music was coming from somewhere – it was enchanting, just like Ginny.
Harry smiled into his pillow. He felt happy. Truly happy.
* * * * *
He didn't wake up when the front door opened and a very tired Vernon Dursley came in.
Dudley ran to his father, having the intention of complaining to Dad about his evil mother who dared to give his pizza to Harry. When he opened his mouth to start a complaining tirade, Petunia entered the hall, giving him a 'shut-up-and-go-back-to-watch-the-Great-Humberto-stare'. Dudley decided that there was no point in crossing his mom, so he left. Strangely he couldn't pay attention to his favourite programme that evening.
"What happened, Petunia?" Vernon asked with an annoyed expression on his plump face. He wasn't used to his wife ever denying anything from their beloved Dudley.
"Come, let's go outside." she took him by the arm and led him into the garden. "You'd better sit down."
Vernon raised his eyebrows. This wasn't Petunia's style to talk to him like that. But he complied, nevertheless.
His wife also sat down on the garden bench.
"Out with it, Petunia!"
She sighed. "Harry's back, Vernon."
"What?" Mr. Dursley made a face like someone who had just swallowed a salamander.
"He came back… but only for a couple of weeks, he says." Petunia replied. "He had to leave that… that school… for a short time."
"Leave it?" Vernon still looked like as if at least four salamanders had been chasing each other in his stomach. "Why?"
"He is… he is on the run."
"On the run?" Mr. Dursley gaped. "Just what we need now: your damned sister's damned hocus-pocus maniac son, who is fleeing from someone! Did he commit something in that… school?"
"I don't know." Petunia shrugged. "I didn't dare ask him. You remember what he told us one and a half year ago before he left with that… godfather of his?"
Vernon's complexion darkened. "He threatened us. He said he might turn us into… salamanders?"
"No, hairy slugs, Vernon, but never mind. He might even turn us into dung beetles, you know… and that is why I decided to be extremely kind to him."
"Extremely… kind…?"
"Yeah…" she sighed. "He might change his mind about this 'an eye for an eye' thing… he might even forgive us, Vernon."
"I don't need his forgiveness, Petunia!" he raised his voice. "That boy is a…" Petunia clamped her hand over her husband's mouth.
"Yes, he is, but we mustn't forget what he is capable of. So we HAVE TO be nice to him. No matter how hard is it, no matter that we might harm our little Dudlicky, this is the ONLY way to persuade Harry about our good intentions. Do you understand it, Vernon?"
Mr. Dursley nodded. His wife was right. If they didn't want to wake up as earthworms, they had to please their nephew.
"We'll move him into Dudders's room, and Dudley into the smallest bedroom. Is it all right?" he asked his wife.
Petunia nodded. "That is a good start, Vernon. And remember: keep smiling!"
* * * * *
Next morning Harry was awakened by someone knocking on the window. It was Hedwig, with a letter.
He let her in and took the mail.
Dearest Harry,
Dumbledore told us that you had to leave. I was sad, but I understand that it was the only chance to save you from the journalists. Imagine, they are still here! They've brought tents, pitched camps and are making interviews with whomever they can. Draco Malfoy has shown a great willingness to denigrate you as frequently as he could. And Snape too, of course. I don't know whether you have read those articles or not, but I guess that you haven't. Your Muggle relatives don't buy Witch Weekly, The Diagon Alley Journal and The Hogsmead Times, do they?
Dumbledore told us that he had already found out something to get rid of the journalists. Hagrid is taking part in the action, but I don't know yet what it will be.
Imagine, Rita Skeeter has also arrived. She – and all the journalists – were very disappointed when they got to know that you had left. Dumbledore didn't tell them where you'd gone, so don't worry, you are safe.
Yesterday I got a letter from Sirius. He congratulated me on becoming part of your family. He is such a nice man!
Please, answer soon, I want to know how you are doing!
Don't worry, the baby and me are okay.
Love, Your Ginny
P.S. Oh, I almost forgot: Ron and Hermione are going out together! Well, what do you think? I'm happy! We'll create a great family together: Potters, Weasleys and Grangers! Cool, isn't it?
Harry smiled. He took a pen (he left his quills at Hogwarts) and wrote an answer to Ginny and two other letters: one to Ron and another to Hermione.
He was glad that his two best friends had found each other. There had been something about them for a long, long time…
* * * * *
Harry dressed up in his robes and went downstairs. He was prepared for an attack by Uncle Vernon.
But, he thought, if the uncle had wanted to sack him, he would already have done so, wouldn't he?
Well, one could never know Vernon Dursley enough.
As he entered the kitchen, three people jumped up from their seats.
Dudley and aunt Petunia were smiling in a forced way. How very strange.
Harry turned to his uncle, expecting a malicious grin and some words like: "Nice to see you, Harry, the door is that way!"
But nothing like that happened.
Uncle Vernon was wearing a stupid smile, too. "Come, my boy, have a seat." he said with an unctuous voice.
Harry thought he didn't hear well. Uncle Vernon – being nice to him? This must be the end of the world!
"Um, good morning to everyone." Harry muttered and sat down at the very end of the table.
"What are you doing so far away from us, my boy?" Vernon asked. "Come, sit here." he pointed his finger at the head of the table.
"Pardon me?" Harry blinked. He must be still sleeping, and this is just a dream, he told himself.
"From now on, this will be your place at the table, son." the uncle gave him a huge smile.
"Are you feeling well, Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked. "Dudley, pinch me!"
"Oh, I wouldn't dare to!" the blond boy protested.
"The scrambled eggs will get cold if we don't start eating soon." aunt Petunia said. "How many eggs would you like to have, Harry, dear? Three, four?"
Harry closed his eyes. This must be a dream, for sure. Aunt Petunia – asking him if he wanted to eat? Nonsense! His aunt had always found pleasure in starving him! What is this sudden conversion?
"Uh, just one, please." he responded. "I don't want Dudley to starve to death because of me!"
"Oh, what a noble heart he has, Vernon!" Petunia started to sob.
"Um, excuse me, could I ask something?" Harry began.
"Of course, my boy, go ahead!" uncle Vernon nodded.
"Is this… is this 4. Privet Drive? The real 4. Privet Drive? Are you my real aunt, uncle and cousin, or is this just a trick of Voldemort's?"
Vernon and Petunia exchanged confused looks.
"But of course we are the real ones, son!" Mr. Dursley said. "Why are you having doubts?"
"Who's Voldemort?" Dudley cut in.
"Shut up, Dudley!" Vernon and Petunia yelled at their son, who cringed. Never, never in his seventeen years of life had they treated him like this! This was calling out for revenge!
"Well, Voldemort, also called You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, is the evil dark lord who killed my parents." Harry explained. "He was resurrected three years ago, from his father's bones, his servant's flesh and my blood."
"Your… your blood?" Dudley went as white and a sheet.
Harry nodded. "It was terrible. I had to… but why are you interested in it at all? You never used to be interested in my problems."
"But we are, son, we are!" uncle Vernon stated.
"Yeah, as long as you don't turn us into slugs!" Dudley muttered.
"Shut up, Dudley!" his parents yelled.
*So, that's why they are so kind to me!* Harry thought. *They are afraid. Scared to death…* he smiled inwardly. Maybe this little 'vacation' with the Dursleys won't be that terrible at all.
A/N2: I hope you liked it! For me it was eternal fun to be nasty to Dudley! (I have to tell you that so far this was the chapter that I found the most fun writing ;-)
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