Chapter Three
Mrs. Figg
"WAKE UP, BOY!!"
Harry jerked awake as Uncle Vernon stuck his scowling face into Harry's room, making sure he was awake.
"Time to go to work!" Uncle Vernon roared. He gave Harry a fierce stare, as though warning him not to go back to sleep, and left.
"About time you started doing something, you lazy, good-for-nothin..." Harry heard Uncle Vernon trailing off as he thundered his way down the hall and stairs to breakfast.
Harry yawned and rolled over, rubbing his eyes. He had had a dream last night but was having a hard time remembering it. He put his hands to his head, trying hard to think...
He had been standing outside a large, old house with Dumbledore. The headmaster had gone inside but no sooner had he done so than the house transformed into a giant snake with a pale face and red slits for eyes. A giant bird had swooped down and picked Harry up, bearing him away from the serpent. He had looked up and recognized the bird as Fawkes, Professor Dumbledore's pet phoenix. They were soaring through the air but the snake was rapidly closing the gap. It had opened its mouth wide to strike...and Harry had woken up.
Harry sat there in his bed, turning the dream over in his head, but the details were quickly slipping away and he was getting hungry. Pushing the dream from his thoughts, Harry put on his glasses, quickly got dressed, and headed down to breakfast.
Aunt Petunia was busy at the stove, frying some bacon when Harry entered the kitchen. Uncle Vernon was busy reading the newspaper at the table, with his half-eaten plate of bacon in front of him. Dudley was eating more than his fair share of bacon yet he wasn't just shovelling it in like he would have been a year ago.
In fact, as much as it pained Harry to admit it, Dudley had actually lost a considerable amount of weight since last year and was still losing it at a rapid pace. Harry remembered the disastrous diet plan his aunt and uncle had put Dudley on last year. It had failed miserably. But something no one could predict had finally motivated Dudley to start shedding some of those extra pounds. He had found a girlfriend.
Dudley had come home from school at the beginning of the summer to announce proudly that he had a girlfriend. His parents had been thrilled. Aunt Petunia, after seeing the pictures Dudley had brought home of her, had simply exclaimed that she was the most beautiful young woman that she had ever set eyes on, while Uncle Vernon proclaimed Dudley a regular ladies' man. While neither one of these descriptions was too accurate in Harry's opinion, he was still amazed and in a state of slight shock that Dudley had managed to even get a girlfriend.
Her name was Patricia, and after one glance at one of her pictures, Harry realized that she and Dudley were the perfect fit for each other. The first thought that struck Harry was that she looked remarkably like a hippopotamus. She had a very big mouth that was curled in a snarl, exposing two large, widely-spaced front teeth. Her round face was surrounded by handfuls of golden curls, and her nose was wide and flat.
But he has a girlfriend- the thought echoed inside Harry's head. It wasn't as though Harry was actually jealous of Dudley...It was just that Harry didn't have a girlfriend...But not that Harry wanted that thing for a girlfriend...But she obviously made Dudley happy...
Harry cleared his head of those thoughts as he sat down at the table, waiting for his breakfast. He had Ron and Hermione and that was all he needed for now. Besides, he and Ron had both agreed that having a girlfriend wasn't that big of a deal anyway...
Harry sat patiently waiting for Aunt Petunia to notice him and bring him a plate of bacon, but after ten minutes, when it became apparent that she wasn't going to do any such thing, he got up to get the bacon himself.
"What are you doing?!" Aunt Petunia screeched at him. "Get away from my stove! I'll get your bacon, you impatient, ungrateful, little runt!"
"S-sorry," stammered Harry, "I was just-"
"Quiet! I don't care! Now sit down at the table before I give your bacon to Dudley. See how he knows to stay in his seat? That's a good boy, Duddykins, just let mommy cook the food and if you wait patiently, mommy'll take care of you," Aunt Petunia cooed as she served Dudley another half plate of bacon. She dumped the rest onto Harry's plate and shot him a nasty look before she turned back to the stove again.
Dudley sat smiling smugly across the table from Harry, but Harry didn't care. He was used to it by now, after fourteen years of this kind of treatment.
He quietly began to eat his breakfast but no sooner had he taken his first bite than Uncle Vernon put down his newspaper and looked at Harry.
"I told Mrs. Figg that you'd be there in fifteen minutes," his uncle growled.
A bit taken aback, Harry realized that he would have to leave immediately to get there in time. "Thanks for telling me sooner," Harry muttered as he stuffed the remaining bacon into his mouth.
"WHAT?!" snapped Uncle Vernon. "What did you say to me?"
"I said that I better get going then," Harry replied innocently.
Uncle Vernon gave him one last scowl then returned to reading his newspaper.
Harry rushed upstairs to brush his teeth and grab his shoes and within two minutes, he was out the door and hurrying to Mrs. Figg's house.
Mrs. Figg was a mad old lady who lived two streets away. She used to babysit Harry when Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon took Dudley out for his birthday, but it had been over five years since the last time Harry had been forced to stay with her. Her house smelled strongly of cabbage and she had always made Harry look at pictures of all the cats she had ever owned. Harry had hated it there.
But just this past year Harry had been reminded twice of Mrs. Figg, and oddly enough, both instances had occurred in the wizarding world. The first time had been when he was at the Quidditch World Cup with the Weasleys. The magical tent that they had slept in had been strangely reminiscent of Mrs. Figg's house. It had been organized in the same format and even possessed the strong smell of cats. The second occasion had been at Hogwarts. Harry had returned to school after his escape from Voldemort and had been resting in the hospital wing. Cornelius Fudge had just stormed out and Dumbledore was giving out instructions to his supporters. He had told Sirius to start alerting loyal witches and wizards and the name Arabella Figg had come up. At the time, Harry had been in no condition to think twice about it. But the thought had crossed his mind a few times over the summer, and he had given it some consideration.
Harry found it strange that he had been reminded-twice-of her in the past year when he had been in the magical world, and he was beginning to think that maybe it wasn't a coincidence. He had no idea whether or not Mrs. Figg's first name was Arabella or if she was indeed a witch, but he was hoping that by the end of the day he would have some answers.
Harry looked up from his thoughts to find that he had arrived. Mrs. Figg's house was an older two-story dark brick building that looked as though it had seen better days. The lawn was a bit overgrown and the sidewalk and driveway had begun to erode away. Harry also noticed as he drew nearer that the front window had been smashed and the front door was falling off its hinges.
Harry reached what was left of the front door and was about to knock when a little old lady poked her head out through the broken window.
"Hello, boy," she greeted Harry from the window.
Mrs. Figg was a small, elderly woman. Her gray hair was tied up in a bun atop her head. Her gray eyes sat behind a pair of square spectacles, and the thin line that was her mouth was now curved into a small smile.
"I hope you'll excuse me," she began, "but my door is temporarily out of service."
Harry gave a polite laugh but after he saw the smile disappear from Mrs. Figg's face, he stopped quickly.
She stood there staring at Harry, as though seeing him for the first time. Unsure of what he should do, Harry was about to say something to break the awkward silence when Mrs. Figg began talking again.
"Yes, well I suppose you should get to work. There's a lot to be done. Come along now," and she beckoned him through the shattered window.
After a slight hesitation, Harry climbed through.
He found himself in an ornate, but very dusty dining room. All of the furniture looked very old and there were two large, fluffy cats sitting in armchairs. There was also a very strong smell of cabbage.
"Did your aunt and uncle tell you why I needed help today?" Mrs. Figg asked.
"No," he replied, "why?"
But again to Harry's surprise, Mrs. Figg simply stared at him, not bothering to answer. After a few moments, she turned and made her way wordlessly into the kitchen.
Harry stood there, slightly taken aback, the cabbage stench filling his nostrils, as the two cats watched him. He was beginning to regret that he had ever come.
Harry followed Mrs. Figg into the kitchen to find her hastily cleaning up two plates from the table. She looked startled to find Harry standing there watching her and quickly stuffed the dishes into the sink.
"Follow me," she said with a note of impatience in her voice, and Harry quickly obliged.
She led him out to the back porch where a new door and window were leaning against the house.
"These are for the front of the house. As you saw, the door and window both need replacing." Harry listened, expecting her to continue. "So that's it," she added shortly, "Get to it. Let me know when you're finished."
Harry watched her go back into the house and gave a small sigh. Somehow he just couldn't picture Mrs. Figg being a witch anymore.
For the next hour and a half, Harry was hard at work installing the new door and window. It was hot out and he began to sweat very heavily. He was also very thirsty, but he didn't dare ask Mrs. Figg for something to drink. Finally, job completed, Harry went inside to tell Mrs. Figg he was done.
"Mrs. Figg?" he called from the entryway.
No answer.
Harry took a few steps further down the hall.
"Mrs. Figg?" he called again.
Still no answer.
Harry started down the hall toward the kitchen but was distracted about halfway there. A door to his left stood ajar and a faint blue glow came from within the dark room.
Curious, Harry peered up and down the hall to make sure Mrs. Figg wasn't there. The hall was empty except for a black cat at one end, so Harry crept into the dark room.
The cabbage stench inside was twice as worse as anywhere else in the house, and Harry immediately covered his nose and mouth with his shirt to try to stifle the overpowering smell.
The windowless room would have been completely pitch-black if it hadn't been for the bright blue light coming from the mantelpiece across the room. Harry moved in for a closer look of the light source.
It was a small statue of a knight. The knight had been carved out of stone, yet the very rock itself was emitting the strange light. The figure was dressed in a full suit of armor. It carried a large shield on its back and a sword at its belt. And what looked like, to Harry's surprise, a wand hanging next to its sword.
It was only then that Harry realized there was another door in the room. He turned and saw it standing ajar, leading down into darkness. It seemed to Harry as though the cabbage smell was coming from down there.
A basement, Harry realized as he began to make his way over to the stairs.
A loud bang stopped Harry dead in his tracks.
Mrs. Figg had flung open the door leading to the hallway and stood there now, her silhouette framed in the doorway.
"I think it's time to go, Harry," she managed in a strained voice.
Harry could tell that she was extremely upset, and he realized that he needed to leave immediately.
"S-sorry," he stammered as he squeezed past her out into the hall. The stare she was giving him sent a chill down his spine. "I-I better go."
And he practically fled the house. He rushed down the hall, out the front door, leapt from the porch, and didn't pause for breath until he was halfway down the street.
Gasping for breath and grabbing a stitch in his side, Harry stopped and looked back at the old house. A face was watching him from an upstairs window, but it wasn't Mrs. Figg. It was a younger woman with long, blonde hair.
Startled by the sudden appearance of the woman, Harry began to run again and this time didn't stop until he had arrived back at Number 4 Privet Drive.
Harry scrambled inside the front door, slamming it behind him.
"WHAT THE HELL?!?" he heard Uncle Vernon roar from the kitchen.
Harry, breathless and collapsed on the floor, watched his uncle storm into the hallway. Uncle Vernon's large face turned a dark shade of red and he began breathing very heavily when he saw who it was who had made the racket.
"What the hell are you doing, boy?!" his uncle repeated, staring scornfully down at Harry.
"Wh-why," Harry gasped, "did Mrs. F-Figg need my help today?" The thought had escaped him before he could hold it back.
"Something about a break-in a couple days ago," Uncle Vernon growled, a bit taken aback. "Why?!?" he snarled, suddenly suspicious. "That is where you went isn't it? You haven't been sneaking around all morning with any of your crackpot friends, have you? WAIT!! You get back here and listen to me when I'm talking to you! I'M NOT THROUGH WITH YOU, BOY!"
But Harry had had enough for one day. Ignoring his uncle's howls of fury, he quietly made his way up to his room. Feeling overwhelmed at everything that had just happened to him, Harry collapsed on his bed. In moments, he was fast asleep.
Mrs. Figg
"WAKE UP, BOY!!"
Harry jerked awake as Uncle Vernon stuck his scowling face into Harry's room, making sure he was awake.
"Time to go to work!" Uncle Vernon roared. He gave Harry a fierce stare, as though warning him not to go back to sleep, and left.
"About time you started doing something, you lazy, good-for-nothin..." Harry heard Uncle Vernon trailing off as he thundered his way down the hall and stairs to breakfast.
Harry yawned and rolled over, rubbing his eyes. He had had a dream last night but was having a hard time remembering it. He put his hands to his head, trying hard to think...
He had been standing outside a large, old house with Dumbledore. The headmaster had gone inside but no sooner had he done so than the house transformed into a giant snake with a pale face and red slits for eyes. A giant bird had swooped down and picked Harry up, bearing him away from the serpent. He had looked up and recognized the bird as Fawkes, Professor Dumbledore's pet phoenix. They were soaring through the air but the snake was rapidly closing the gap. It had opened its mouth wide to strike...and Harry had woken up.
Harry sat there in his bed, turning the dream over in his head, but the details were quickly slipping away and he was getting hungry. Pushing the dream from his thoughts, Harry put on his glasses, quickly got dressed, and headed down to breakfast.
Aunt Petunia was busy at the stove, frying some bacon when Harry entered the kitchen. Uncle Vernon was busy reading the newspaper at the table, with his half-eaten plate of bacon in front of him. Dudley was eating more than his fair share of bacon yet he wasn't just shovelling it in like he would have been a year ago.
In fact, as much as it pained Harry to admit it, Dudley had actually lost a considerable amount of weight since last year and was still losing it at a rapid pace. Harry remembered the disastrous diet plan his aunt and uncle had put Dudley on last year. It had failed miserably. But something no one could predict had finally motivated Dudley to start shedding some of those extra pounds. He had found a girlfriend.
Dudley had come home from school at the beginning of the summer to announce proudly that he had a girlfriend. His parents had been thrilled. Aunt Petunia, after seeing the pictures Dudley had brought home of her, had simply exclaimed that she was the most beautiful young woman that she had ever set eyes on, while Uncle Vernon proclaimed Dudley a regular ladies' man. While neither one of these descriptions was too accurate in Harry's opinion, he was still amazed and in a state of slight shock that Dudley had managed to even get a girlfriend.
Her name was Patricia, and after one glance at one of her pictures, Harry realized that she and Dudley were the perfect fit for each other. The first thought that struck Harry was that she looked remarkably like a hippopotamus. She had a very big mouth that was curled in a snarl, exposing two large, widely-spaced front teeth. Her round face was surrounded by handfuls of golden curls, and her nose was wide and flat.
But he has a girlfriend- the thought echoed inside Harry's head. It wasn't as though Harry was actually jealous of Dudley...It was just that Harry didn't have a girlfriend...But not that Harry wanted that thing for a girlfriend...But she obviously made Dudley happy...
Harry cleared his head of those thoughts as he sat down at the table, waiting for his breakfast. He had Ron and Hermione and that was all he needed for now. Besides, he and Ron had both agreed that having a girlfriend wasn't that big of a deal anyway...
Harry sat patiently waiting for Aunt Petunia to notice him and bring him a plate of bacon, but after ten minutes, when it became apparent that she wasn't going to do any such thing, he got up to get the bacon himself.
"What are you doing?!" Aunt Petunia screeched at him. "Get away from my stove! I'll get your bacon, you impatient, ungrateful, little runt!"
"S-sorry," stammered Harry, "I was just-"
"Quiet! I don't care! Now sit down at the table before I give your bacon to Dudley. See how he knows to stay in his seat? That's a good boy, Duddykins, just let mommy cook the food and if you wait patiently, mommy'll take care of you," Aunt Petunia cooed as she served Dudley another half plate of bacon. She dumped the rest onto Harry's plate and shot him a nasty look before she turned back to the stove again.
Dudley sat smiling smugly across the table from Harry, but Harry didn't care. He was used to it by now, after fourteen years of this kind of treatment.
He quietly began to eat his breakfast but no sooner had he taken his first bite than Uncle Vernon put down his newspaper and looked at Harry.
"I told Mrs. Figg that you'd be there in fifteen minutes," his uncle growled.
A bit taken aback, Harry realized that he would have to leave immediately to get there in time. "Thanks for telling me sooner," Harry muttered as he stuffed the remaining bacon into his mouth.
"WHAT?!" snapped Uncle Vernon. "What did you say to me?"
"I said that I better get going then," Harry replied innocently.
Uncle Vernon gave him one last scowl then returned to reading his newspaper.
Harry rushed upstairs to brush his teeth and grab his shoes and within two minutes, he was out the door and hurrying to Mrs. Figg's house.
Mrs. Figg was a mad old lady who lived two streets away. She used to babysit Harry when Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon took Dudley out for his birthday, but it had been over five years since the last time Harry had been forced to stay with her. Her house smelled strongly of cabbage and she had always made Harry look at pictures of all the cats she had ever owned. Harry had hated it there.
But just this past year Harry had been reminded twice of Mrs. Figg, and oddly enough, both instances had occurred in the wizarding world. The first time had been when he was at the Quidditch World Cup with the Weasleys. The magical tent that they had slept in had been strangely reminiscent of Mrs. Figg's house. It had been organized in the same format and even possessed the strong smell of cats. The second occasion had been at Hogwarts. Harry had returned to school after his escape from Voldemort and had been resting in the hospital wing. Cornelius Fudge had just stormed out and Dumbledore was giving out instructions to his supporters. He had told Sirius to start alerting loyal witches and wizards and the name Arabella Figg had come up. At the time, Harry had been in no condition to think twice about it. But the thought had crossed his mind a few times over the summer, and he had given it some consideration.
Harry found it strange that he had been reminded-twice-of her in the past year when he had been in the magical world, and he was beginning to think that maybe it wasn't a coincidence. He had no idea whether or not Mrs. Figg's first name was Arabella or if she was indeed a witch, but he was hoping that by the end of the day he would have some answers.
Harry looked up from his thoughts to find that he had arrived. Mrs. Figg's house was an older two-story dark brick building that looked as though it had seen better days. The lawn was a bit overgrown and the sidewalk and driveway had begun to erode away. Harry also noticed as he drew nearer that the front window had been smashed and the front door was falling off its hinges.
Harry reached what was left of the front door and was about to knock when a little old lady poked her head out through the broken window.
"Hello, boy," she greeted Harry from the window.
Mrs. Figg was a small, elderly woman. Her gray hair was tied up in a bun atop her head. Her gray eyes sat behind a pair of square spectacles, and the thin line that was her mouth was now curved into a small smile.
"I hope you'll excuse me," she began, "but my door is temporarily out of service."
Harry gave a polite laugh but after he saw the smile disappear from Mrs. Figg's face, he stopped quickly.
She stood there staring at Harry, as though seeing him for the first time. Unsure of what he should do, Harry was about to say something to break the awkward silence when Mrs. Figg began talking again.
"Yes, well I suppose you should get to work. There's a lot to be done. Come along now," and she beckoned him through the shattered window.
After a slight hesitation, Harry climbed through.
He found himself in an ornate, but very dusty dining room. All of the furniture looked very old and there were two large, fluffy cats sitting in armchairs. There was also a very strong smell of cabbage.
"Did your aunt and uncle tell you why I needed help today?" Mrs. Figg asked.
"No," he replied, "why?"
But again to Harry's surprise, Mrs. Figg simply stared at him, not bothering to answer. After a few moments, she turned and made her way wordlessly into the kitchen.
Harry stood there, slightly taken aback, the cabbage stench filling his nostrils, as the two cats watched him. He was beginning to regret that he had ever come.
Harry followed Mrs. Figg into the kitchen to find her hastily cleaning up two plates from the table. She looked startled to find Harry standing there watching her and quickly stuffed the dishes into the sink.
"Follow me," she said with a note of impatience in her voice, and Harry quickly obliged.
She led him out to the back porch where a new door and window were leaning against the house.
"These are for the front of the house. As you saw, the door and window both need replacing." Harry listened, expecting her to continue. "So that's it," she added shortly, "Get to it. Let me know when you're finished."
Harry watched her go back into the house and gave a small sigh. Somehow he just couldn't picture Mrs. Figg being a witch anymore.
For the next hour and a half, Harry was hard at work installing the new door and window. It was hot out and he began to sweat very heavily. He was also very thirsty, but he didn't dare ask Mrs. Figg for something to drink. Finally, job completed, Harry went inside to tell Mrs. Figg he was done.
"Mrs. Figg?" he called from the entryway.
No answer.
Harry took a few steps further down the hall.
"Mrs. Figg?" he called again.
Still no answer.
Harry started down the hall toward the kitchen but was distracted about halfway there. A door to his left stood ajar and a faint blue glow came from within the dark room.
Curious, Harry peered up and down the hall to make sure Mrs. Figg wasn't there. The hall was empty except for a black cat at one end, so Harry crept into the dark room.
The cabbage stench inside was twice as worse as anywhere else in the house, and Harry immediately covered his nose and mouth with his shirt to try to stifle the overpowering smell.
The windowless room would have been completely pitch-black if it hadn't been for the bright blue light coming from the mantelpiece across the room. Harry moved in for a closer look of the light source.
It was a small statue of a knight. The knight had been carved out of stone, yet the very rock itself was emitting the strange light. The figure was dressed in a full suit of armor. It carried a large shield on its back and a sword at its belt. And what looked like, to Harry's surprise, a wand hanging next to its sword.
It was only then that Harry realized there was another door in the room. He turned and saw it standing ajar, leading down into darkness. It seemed to Harry as though the cabbage smell was coming from down there.
A basement, Harry realized as he began to make his way over to the stairs.
A loud bang stopped Harry dead in his tracks.
Mrs. Figg had flung open the door leading to the hallway and stood there now, her silhouette framed in the doorway.
"I think it's time to go, Harry," she managed in a strained voice.
Harry could tell that she was extremely upset, and he realized that he needed to leave immediately.
"S-sorry," he stammered as he squeezed past her out into the hall. The stare she was giving him sent a chill down his spine. "I-I better go."
And he practically fled the house. He rushed down the hall, out the front door, leapt from the porch, and didn't pause for breath until he was halfway down the street.
Gasping for breath and grabbing a stitch in his side, Harry stopped and looked back at the old house. A face was watching him from an upstairs window, but it wasn't Mrs. Figg. It was a younger woman with long, blonde hair.
Startled by the sudden appearance of the woman, Harry began to run again and this time didn't stop until he had arrived back at Number 4 Privet Drive.
Harry scrambled inside the front door, slamming it behind him.
"WHAT THE HELL?!?" he heard Uncle Vernon roar from the kitchen.
Harry, breathless and collapsed on the floor, watched his uncle storm into the hallway. Uncle Vernon's large face turned a dark shade of red and he began breathing very heavily when he saw who it was who had made the racket.
"What the hell are you doing, boy?!" his uncle repeated, staring scornfully down at Harry.
"Wh-why," Harry gasped, "did Mrs. F-Figg need my help today?" The thought had escaped him before he could hold it back.
"Something about a break-in a couple days ago," Uncle Vernon growled, a bit taken aback. "Why?!?" he snarled, suddenly suspicious. "That is where you went isn't it? You haven't been sneaking around all morning with any of your crackpot friends, have you? WAIT!! You get back here and listen to me when I'm talking to you! I'M NOT THROUGH WITH YOU, BOY!"
But Harry had had enough for one day. Ignoring his uncle's howls of fury, he quietly made his way up to his room. Feeling overwhelmed at everything that had just happened to him, Harry collapsed on his bed. In moments, he was fast asleep.
