A/N: Hey guys, so here's the next chapter. a little revealing. so enough
about me, read on! By the way, I don't own anything to do with Harry
Potter, with exceptions of the available merchandise of course.
WHAT IT IS TO BURN
Chapter 2: News of the world
Harry looked wildly around. How could anyone just disappear like that? He thought to himself. As if on cue, Harry heard a light clink of metal coming from the kitchen. Cautiously he moved through the parlor toward the kitchen door, silently wishing he had his wand with him. Slowly he opened the door and peered inside. Mrs. Figg was fixing herself another cup of tea, waiting patiently for the kettle to scream. Why did he just freak out over nothing? Was he falling apart? The stress of his last month of school would've been more than enough to press anyone to the edge of nervous breakdown, his mind reasoned with him. But Harry couldn't help feeling slightly ashamed. If he was supposed to be this great hero, why was he acting so paranoid? Dumbledore had his home protected from all the evil curses or presences that tried to penetrate it. Maybe he wasn't ashamed, maybe he wanted there to be some deranged Death Eater standing over the kettle instead of this batty old woman. He sighed heavily and entered.
"I'm making some ore tea, would you like a cup?" She asked nicely.
"Sure, why not." He answered roughly. Harry sat down at the table, and stared blindly at his hands. He cleared his throat as an uncomfortable silence filled the room. Mrs. Figg was watching Harry from the corner of her eye. The kettle was the first to speak.
"Right then," Mrs. Figg said as she busied herself pouring two cups of boiling water and placing tea bags inside them. "here you go love."
Harry took the cup and nodded his thanks. He watched as the tea from within bled out in slow spirals, slowly changing the clear water to a pale tan.
"What's the matter darling?" Mrs. Figg said in a motherly fashion. She sat down across from Harry, and the chair squealed in pain.
"What, oh.nothing. I just, -er.nothing." He tried to smile, but failed miserably.
"Go on deary, you might feel better if you say whatever it is that's bothering you." She soothed. Harry busied himself by removing the tea remains from his cup and added some honey. When he finished he took a sip, and set it down slowly. What would she know anyways? He looked carefully up at her, she was still staring at him, a pleasant expression on her face. He looked at his tea, which reflected his face back at him like some weird mirror. He looked horrible, and felt even worse. Harry sighed. Well it couldn't hurt, he thought.
"Last year at Hog- erm, School, I had a really bad year. Not just really bad, extremely miserable. Something terrible happened that I could have, and should have, prevented. Now, because of me, more terrible things are almost guaranteed to happen, and there's nothing I can do about it." He said this carefully, not wanting to divulge any information about the wizarding world. As he spoke, images of the previous year flashed before him, like some nightmarish daydream. He looked up at Mrs. Figg.
"It's all my fault."
"No Harry, it's all Voldemort's fault." She said calmly.
"Yes and no, I could've saved Cedric, but wait a sec. what? You know who Voldermort is?" Harry asked, unbelievingly.
"Of course I do, who doesn't?" she smiled mysteriously.
"You said his name?" He stared.
"Well why not, I mean, it is his, isn't it?"
"Yeah, but, I didn't know. I mean, you're a witch?"
"Yes Harry, dear, I am a witch. In fact I'm a retired Auror. Didn't Dumbledore ever explain to you the protection situation here?" She said slightly surprised.
"Well no, not really." He said lamely.
"Yes well, the short, revised, and definitely the briefest explanation would be that I was reinstated as a kind of.lookout. When you arrived all those years ago, I moved in as well. Basically I just keep an eye on you and the surroundings, if I see any funny business I am to report it directly to Dumbledore. That way he always knows what is going on out here." She said this rather quickly, almost excitedly. "Making sure that you did not realize that I was a witch was the hardest thing I've had to do in a long while."
It was like Harry had never seen this woman before. She was like a total stranger. Suddenly he felt like a complete idiot. His life long babysitter had been a witch, and he never knew until she told him. He felt the heat rise under his glasses.
"Well, you did a good job." He said stupidly. His gaze returned to the dark cup of tea. Her expression changed again.
"I was a very good Auror. I was usually sent in for secret missions, a kind of spy if you will. I had to blend in seamlessly. Don't feel embarrassed for not recognizing. I take it as a complement." She soothed.
Harry's thoughts suddenly moved onto Voldemort. All this talk of him, and Harry hadn't heard a word of him since he came back home a month ago.
"So what is the news on Voldemort? Where is he now? Do we even know?" He asked.
"I'm really not supposed to answer that." She said quietly. Harry eyes bore onto hers, and he could tell she was going to give. "But you should know, shouldn't you?" she smiled. Harry smiled meekly in response.
"Actually, we haven't heard from him, mostly from his Death Eaters. They're becoming a strong force again. Working to build their ranks. Old Volde seems to be hiding, but his power of influence isn't. Only the other day, it was divulged that he had several Ministry Officials working for him. The Ministry is always the first to go, and with Fudge in office." she trailed off bitterly. " well, I won't go there. Not today, not over this cup of tea." She looked at Harry. He seemed to be taking it all in. She didn't bother him. Suddenly Harry snapped out of his thoughts.
"You said his influence is all over the ministry? What about the Weasleys? What about the Grangers?" He said, his voice could not hide his worry.
"Your friends are safe." She said slowly. Harry sighed in relief. If anything happened to his friends, Harry knew he could not exist. An image of Cedric flashed before him, he shuddered.
"Harry, I want you to know that nothing is your fault. You need to know and accept that." She placed a wrinkled hand on his wrist.
"I could've stopped Cedric's death." He said tonelessly. He was expecting her hand to withdraw, or at least flinch, but she tightened her grip instead.
"No one could've saved Cedric. Not even Dumbledore, I dare say." She looked him in the eyes. "At least he died with a friend by his side, and not alone."
His eyes were suddenly blurry. He looked away.
"I should've di-" but his sentence was cut short be the sharp ring of the phone. He stood up so suddenly, that the teacup tipped over and the liquid spread quickly over the table.
"Sorry." He mumbled. The phone rang shrilly again.
"Don't you mind, you answer the phone, and I'll clean this up." She smiled warmly. Harry had never been so relieved to hear the phone ring than he was now. He walked back to the parlor, the television was droning stupidly in the corner. Harry had no idea why, but for some weird reason, Mrs. Figg made him want to talk about his problems. It was like she had some unstoppable force to make him almost cry like a baby. He rubbed his eyes angrily, and snatched the howling phone.
"Hello?" He said shortly.
"Er- Harry?" the phone asked surprised.
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A/N: so, what do you think? I'd like to know, and I think you'll be happy when you find out who's calling Harry.
WHAT IT IS TO BURN
Chapter 2: News of the world
Harry looked wildly around. How could anyone just disappear like that? He thought to himself. As if on cue, Harry heard a light clink of metal coming from the kitchen. Cautiously he moved through the parlor toward the kitchen door, silently wishing he had his wand with him. Slowly he opened the door and peered inside. Mrs. Figg was fixing herself another cup of tea, waiting patiently for the kettle to scream. Why did he just freak out over nothing? Was he falling apart? The stress of his last month of school would've been more than enough to press anyone to the edge of nervous breakdown, his mind reasoned with him. But Harry couldn't help feeling slightly ashamed. If he was supposed to be this great hero, why was he acting so paranoid? Dumbledore had his home protected from all the evil curses or presences that tried to penetrate it. Maybe he wasn't ashamed, maybe he wanted there to be some deranged Death Eater standing over the kettle instead of this batty old woman. He sighed heavily and entered.
"I'm making some ore tea, would you like a cup?" She asked nicely.
"Sure, why not." He answered roughly. Harry sat down at the table, and stared blindly at his hands. He cleared his throat as an uncomfortable silence filled the room. Mrs. Figg was watching Harry from the corner of her eye. The kettle was the first to speak.
"Right then," Mrs. Figg said as she busied herself pouring two cups of boiling water and placing tea bags inside them. "here you go love."
Harry took the cup and nodded his thanks. He watched as the tea from within bled out in slow spirals, slowly changing the clear water to a pale tan.
"What's the matter darling?" Mrs. Figg said in a motherly fashion. She sat down across from Harry, and the chair squealed in pain.
"What, oh.nothing. I just, -er.nothing." He tried to smile, but failed miserably.
"Go on deary, you might feel better if you say whatever it is that's bothering you." She soothed. Harry busied himself by removing the tea remains from his cup and added some honey. When he finished he took a sip, and set it down slowly. What would she know anyways? He looked carefully up at her, she was still staring at him, a pleasant expression on her face. He looked at his tea, which reflected his face back at him like some weird mirror. He looked horrible, and felt even worse. Harry sighed. Well it couldn't hurt, he thought.
"Last year at Hog- erm, School, I had a really bad year. Not just really bad, extremely miserable. Something terrible happened that I could have, and should have, prevented. Now, because of me, more terrible things are almost guaranteed to happen, and there's nothing I can do about it." He said this carefully, not wanting to divulge any information about the wizarding world. As he spoke, images of the previous year flashed before him, like some nightmarish daydream. He looked up at Mrs. Figg.
"It's all my fault."
"No Harry, it's all Voldemort's fault." She said calmly.
"Yes and no, I could've saved Cedric, but wait a sec. what? You know who Voldermort is?" Harry asked, unbelievingly.
"Of course I do, who doesn't?" she smiled mysteriously.
"You said his name?" He stared.
"Well why not, I mean, it is his, isn't it?"
"Yeah, but, I didn't know. I mean, you're a witch?"
"Yes Harry, dear, I am a witch. In fact I'm a retired Auror. Didn't Dumbledore ever explain to you the protection situation here?" She said slightly surprised.
"Well no, not really." He said lamely.
"Yes well, the short, revised, and definitely the briefest explanation would be that I was reinstated as a kind of.lookout. When you arrived all those years ago, I moved in as well. Basically I just keep an eye on you and the surroundings, if I see any funny business I am to report it directly to Dumbledore. That way he always knows what is going on out here." She said this rather quickly, almost excitedly. "Making sure that you did not realize that I was a witch was the hardest thing I've had to do in a long while."
It was like Harry had never seen this woman before. She was like a total stranger. Suddenly he felt like a complete idiot. His life long babysitter had been a witch, and he never knew until she told him. He felt the heat rise under his glasses.
"Well, you did a good job." He said stupidly. His gaze returned to the dark cup of tea. Her expression changed again.
"I was a very good Auror. I was usually sent in for secret missions, a kind of spy if you will. I had to blend in seamlessly. Don't feel embarrassed for not recognizing. I take it as a complement." She soothed.
Harry's thoughts suddenly moved onto Voldemort. All this talk of him, and Harry hadn't heard a word of him since he came back home a month ago.
"So what is the news on Voldemort? Where is he now? Do we even know?" He asked.
"I'm really not supposed to answer that." She said quietly. Harry eyes bore onto hers, and he could tell she was going to give. "But you should know, shouldn't you?" she smiled. Harry smiled meekly in response.
"Actually, we haven't heard from him, mostly from his Death Eaters. They're becoming a strong force again. Working to build their ranks. Old Volde seems to be hiding, but his power of influence isn't. Only the other day, it was divulged that he had several Ministry Officials working for him. The Ministry is always the first to go, and with Fudge in office." she trailed off bitterly. " well, I won't go there. Not today, not over this cup of tea." She looked at Harry. He seemed to be taking it all in. She didn't bother him. Suddenly Harry snapped out of his thoughts.
"You said his influence is all over the ministry? What about the Weasleys? What about the Grangers?" He said, his voice could not hide his worry.
"Your friends are safe." She said slowly. Harry sighed in relief. If anything happened to his friends, Harry knew he could not exist. An image of Cedric flashed before him, he shuddered.
"Harry, I want you to know that nothing is your fault. You need to know and accept that." She placed a wrinkled hand on his wrist.
"I could've stopped Cedric's death." He said tonelessly. He was expecting her hand to withdraw, or at least flinch, but she tightened her grip instead.
"No one could've saved Cedric. Not even Dumbledore, I dare say." She looked him in the eyes. "At least he died with a friend by his side, and not alone."
His eyes were suddenly blurry. He looked away.
"I should've di-" but his sentence was cut short be the sharp ring of the phone. He stood up so suddenly, that the teacup tipped over and the liquid spread quickly over the table.
"Sorry." He mumbled. The phone rang shrilly again.
"Don't you mind, you answer the phone, and I'll clean this up." She smiled warmly. Harry had never been so relieved to hear the phone ring than he was now. He walked back to the parlor, the television was droning stupidly in the corner. Harry had no idea why, but for some weird reason, Mrs. Figg made him want to talk about his problems. It was like she had some unstoppable force to make him almost cry like a baby. He rubbed his eyes angrily, and snatched the howling phone.
"Hello?" He said shortly.
"Er- Harry?" the phone asked surprised.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------
A/N: so, what do you think? I'd like to know, and I think you'll be happy when you find out who's calling Harry.