13. Broken Bindings
The door shut slowly as if questioning Harry if he was making the right decision. He turned his back to it and did not move until the door clicked shut, sealing the deal. It was then that Harry realized that he had left the torn photo album in Dudley's room. As much as he enjoyed looking through it, he couldn't go back. Going back was too much of a forgiving gesture.
Harry had left Hedwig at Hogwarts, thinking it would be better for her to stay until he came back, but was now becoming aware of the fact that he did not have a way to contact anyone. He began to tug his trunk along the path towards the park where he had spent so many summer days before his fifth year. He could hear the movement of glass at the bottom of the trunk; the last remnants of Sirius's mirror. He heaved a sigh and tried to shut it out of his mind.
"You know what Harry? Don't be so disgusted," he said to himself. "You are never going to have a normal school year. You never were. Doomed from day one," he added with a small smile. "I shoulda known. Should have known." Holding this conversation with himself gained him a few stares from the neighbors of Number Four Privet Drive. They had stopped raking the leaves in their yard, or froze as they bent over to get the two-day-old newspaper and watched as he dragged his enormous trunk to an unknown destination. Harry ignored them. They had no idea of his complicated world. Unconsciously, he placed a protective hand over the pocket in which the vial was in.
The park came into view and Harry was glad to find it unoccupied by the rest of Dudley's gang. He dragged his trunk through the sand and sat down on a swing suspended by rusty chain links. Slowly he swung back and forth, letting the shock of the Dursley house sink in.
"What do you think your doing?"
"Huh? Who's—Mrs. Figg!" Harry said, jumping out of his swing at the voice behind him. She rushed over to him and placed her hands on her hips.
"What's this?" she asked, pointing at the trunk.
"I'm leaving the Dursleys."
"What?" she gasped. "You can't do that! Dumbledore—"
"Dumbledore doesn't know something he really should. I need to tell him and plus," he paused, staring back down at the direction of the house, "I don't need them anymore."
"Are you kidding me? Of course you need them! They're your best protection against Voldemort! Now you get back home and mail him this urgent news!"
"I can't. I left Hedwig at Hogwarts."
"Well my owl shall feel up to it," she said hastily. "Come on now."
"No Mrs. Figg. You don't understand. I can't go back. Dumbledore would understand. He'd let me leave if he new why. I really must speak to him in person."
"You're always gettin' yourself into trouble," she mumbled, thinking that Harry couldn't hear her. "What with the dementors last year and all. I'll be supposin' you'll want me to take you to Grimmuald Place then?"
"Yes please."
She sighed.
"Alright then. My house isn't too far away from here so I believe you can manage to pull your trunk there. I warn you now Harry, despite how urgent this may be, Dumbledore is not going to be all that happy."
"Oh I know that Mrs. Figg," Harry answered as he started lifting up his trunk. "What I have to tell him is going to make him upset anyway." As they started walking towards Mrs. Figg's house, the eyes that followed Harry on his way to the park were now following him again. Mrs. Figg didn't take notice of it and instead mumbled to Harry to hurry up. In a short while, her house came into view. Harry figured it was her house when he saw three or four cats in the yard, pouncing on leaves being blown in the wind. When Mrs. Figg walked up the driveway, they swarmed to her feet and began to curl around her ankles.
"They're hungry," she told Harry. "I don't know why. I just fed them. If they eat any more they're going to look like furry pigs rather than cute little kittens." An image of Dudley came to Harry's mind. "Come on in," she ushered, unlocking the door.
Mrs. Figg's house had changed since he had last seen it quite a few years ago. The walls had a dusty appearance to them and there were black and white muggle photographs cluttering the coffee table in between two couches. In the corner, lit by the sunlight spilling in from the window above it, was a faded blue armchair with a gray cat curled on the seat. The inside smelt of vanilla and daisies. It was a very nice change from the Dursley's house. He wondered why he always hated having tea at Mrs. Figg's house when he was much younger.
"Go ahead and place your trunk by the fireplace. If anyone's home over there, we're going to arrive by floo. I got connected to the network just last month."
"Oh okay," Harry said, still taking in the comfort of Mrs. Figg's house. Maybe I could return here every summer, he thought as he placed his trunk by the hearth. She came up behind him with what looked like a miniature ceramic pot. She scooped a handful of floo powder into her hand, tossed it into the fireplace, stuck her head inside, and demanded Grimmuald Place. Harry watched as she craned her neck to the left and right, obviously looking in through Grimmuald's fire place. She spotted someone (it wasn't clear who due to the roaring flames) and chatted for a brief minute with them. Harry heard her muffled voice offer a goodbye and she pulled her head out from the furnace.
"You're in luck. Moody, Remus, and Tonks are there. The others are at the ministry keeping an eye out. One of the three at home is contacting Dumbledore as we speak. Now," she said as she lifted Harry's trunk with a grunt and placed it inside the furnace, "get in. We don't need to waste time. Here—alright, now that you have your floo powder, go!"
"What about you?" he asked.
"Someone's going to have to be here when you get back now Harry."
"I am not going back!" Mrs. Figg laughed somewhat evilly at Harry's outburst.
"We'll see about that. Off you go now!" she turned her back on him and walked into the kitchen calling her numerous amounts of cats. They ran to her, except for the one in the chair which was too lazy to move, and began curling around her legs as she opened two or three cans of cat food. He threw his floo powder onto the ground and shouted, "Grimmuald Place!" Bright green flashed in front of him and Mrs. Figg's house was gone.
His trunk came out first and landed with a gigantic thud. Harry came tumbling after it and landed face first onto the ground with a sickening smack. Uneven footsteps hobbled towards him and stopped in front of his broken glasses that had landed three feet ahead of him. A wheezing, ragged laugh came from above his head.
"Graceful landing Potter," Harry heard Moody growl. "It was also a nice way to make an entrance. . .with a bang," he started laughing. Harry sat himself up plunged his hand inside his pocket to make sure the vial wasn't broken. To his relief, it was perfectly fine. He then reached blindly for his glasses. He felt a rough hand hook under his arm pit and jerk him up into a standing position. "Nice black eye ya got there. Did the trip here give you all those injuries?"
"No I—" Harry began, but was cut off.
"That Harry Mad-Eye?" a female voice called from around the corner. Harry recognized it as Tonks's voice and saw her blurry shape come into view. He got down on his knees again and began to grope for his glasses. "Here let me help you," she said and muttered reparo. Harry heard his glasses fix themselves and felt them being pushed into his hand.
"Thanks," he said, slipping them on. Moody stood in front of him with a bizarre grin on his face and his magical eye whizzing around in his socket. He offered a hand and Harry shook it gingerly. Tonks was dressed the most strangely he had ever seen her. Her purple hair was replaced by a neon green Mohawk that practically touched the ceiling. The shirt she wore was sleeveless and torn in various places and she had four seagulls perched on her shoulder. Her pants were like his denim jeans, only it looked as if splotches of bleach and been spilled all over them. "Acid wash," Tonks laughed at Harry's puzzled expression. "It's a muggle thing." "What about the birds?"
"Flock of seagulls. I couldn't decide if I wanted the hair style or the real thing. Eventually I chose the Mohawk and decided to get the birds. Adds to my lovely appearance eh?"
"You're a nut case," Moody snorted. "Even wizards are scared of you. It's not just muggles anymore." Tonks stuck her tongue out at Moody and turned back to Harry.
"Good to see you again," she smiled, offering her hand.
"You too," he replied. "Both of you, but where is—"
"Hello Harry," Lupin greeted soberly as he entered the room with his hands casually in his pockets. Lupin looked like he had at the beginning of Harry's third year; tired and sickly. His lips were chapped and his eyes were pink with exhaustion, but even so, he managed to welcome Harry with a smile.
"Hi Professor."
"How have you been?" he asked, taking his hands out of his pockets slowly.
"I don't know really. You?"
"Alright I guess," Lupin shrugged. One of Tonks's seagulls squawked and landed on Harry's shoulder. It nipped his ear affectionately and then began to caw loudly.
"Alright! ALRIGHT!" Tonks shouted at it. "Excuse me for a second boys, they need some exercise."
"Hopefully they'll be hunted down. Those damn things are so annoying, especially at night," Moody whispered to Harry. "I'll take your trunk up to your room. Make yourself at home."
"Thanks," Harry said. Moody waved a hand, dismissing his gratitude and began to haul his trunk up the stairs.
"Let's go into the kitchen Harry," Lupin said. "I want to talk to you for a few minutes if you don't mind."
"Okay," said Harry as he followed Lupin into the kitchen and pulled up a chair to the kitchen table. Lupin looked at him and then hung his head and sighed. "What's wrong?"
"I keep reliving it over and over," Lupin confessed lifting his head up slowly with his eyes closed. "Over and over throughout the night. I can hardly sleep. I guess the realization of it has finally sunken in. I'm terrified Harry. Terrified out of my mind."
"Terrified of what?"
"Of it all coming to an end. I'm not scared for my life though," Lupin said, still looking at the table. "I'm scared for yours." Harry nodded. "Harry, you are the closest thing I have to James and Sirius now. I lost them both to Voldemort. I can't lose you. I cannot let them down like that. I know it sounds selfish me saying 'I can't do this and I can't do that,' but I lost my two greatest friends in the world. I just can't afford to lose you too. That's why you have to go back to the Dursleys. You may not like it there, but it's safer than out here."
"It's not safer there any more," he sighed, placing his hand on his pocket and holding the blood vial tightly. Suddenly, a door banged open and heavy footfalls stormed inside. Moody paused in the middle of the staircase with his wand drawn, and Tonks ran into the room with her seagulls flying in after her. Lupin jumped up startled too.
"Oh," Moody snarled. "It's only Albus." He tucked his wand back into his robes walked down the rest of the steps.
"Where is Harry?" Dumbledore asked gravely.
"I think he's in the kitchen with Remus." Dumbledore walked into the kitchen and beamed down dangerously at Harry. There was no smile upon his face. Lupin scurried off and brought back a chair for Dumbledore to sit in. He muttered a thank you, never taking his eyes off Harry. Harry became extremely aware of the presence of the vial.
"Why are you here Harry?"
"I really needed to talk to you," he answered, undaunted by Dumbledore's frightening mood. "I left Hedwig at school because I thought it'd be better for her."
"But why did you come here to Grimmuald Place? You are putting everyone in the Order in danger and risking the exposure of our headquarters," he demanded sternly.
"I didn't have anywhere else to go! I couldn't go to the Burrow because I didn't want to put the Weasleys in danger. At least the Order is prepared to fight."
"Well you're lucky Harry," Lupin cut in. "The Weasleys just left." Moody and Tonks entered the kitchen also. Everyone stared down at Harry. He felt their eyes crawl on his skin like poisonous bugs. Unable to withstand it any longer, he tore the vial out from his pocket and placed it in the middle of the table.
"This is why I'm here!" he said, pointing to the vial. "This is my big protection from Voldemort that the Dursleys were supposed to possess. This is my mum's blood!" Tonks gasped. Moody produced a low growl of a dog warning intruders. Lupin's eyes narrowed and Dumbledore looked like he had been hit in the face with a sack of potatoes.
"What—?"
"They had kept it in a refrigerator buried in the wall of my room," Harry told them as he thought spitefully of the Dursleys. "Petunia is adopted." There was a murmur of confusion.
"She lied to me!" Dumbledore shouted, pounding his fist on the table. "She lied to face!" He ripped off his half-moon spectacles and placed his thumb and forefinger on the bridge of his nose and mumbled to himself. "She should've been in Azkaban!"
"What do you mean?" Harry asked. "She's a muggle. She—she couldn't have gone to Azkaban." Dumbledore took a deep breath and held it. It wasn't until a few seconds later that he exhaled deeply and looked up at Harry. He could see the words forming inside Dumbledore's mind, but he apparently had trouble spitting them out.
"She is a muggle," Harry stated again.
"No Harry," Dumbledore spat angrily. "She's not a muggle. She's a squib." Tonks clasped her hands over her mouth and stifled a gasp. Lupin took a step back in surprise and Moody did not move at all.
"What? What do you—I don't believe—prove it!" he sputtered. Tonks nodded lightly in agreement with Harry's command. "Petunia Evans a witch? I don't believe it either Albus!" Lupin agreed with Harry. Moody still did not move at all. They watched as Dumbledore placed his glasses back on his nose and pushed them up stiffly. He sighed.
"It makes sense if you look at it closely enough. The words she used to describe Lily, the cruelty she inflicted on you Harry. Are you sure you even need me to explain?" No one said anything. "Very well," Dumbledore said, his voice echoing throughout the house. "It will be harder to prove now that I have learned she is adopted. My only explanation might sound like I just thought of it, well, because I just did. However, I have reason to believe that it could be correct. My thought is this: Petunia was born to one muggle parent and one magical parent thus resulting in being born a squib. If you want to delve into genetics and the probability of it then go right ahead, but since only one of her parents could have been a wizard or witch, perhaps she only inherited half the ability to perform magic."
"That would mean that her muggle characteristics would have to cancel out the gene for magical capability," Moody said at last. "I don't think you can inherit half of something. It's either all or nothing."
"What he means Mad-Eye is that she didn't have the other chromosome to become fully magical," Tonks corrected him.
"No that's not true Tonks," Lupin cut in. "Because if what you are suggesting is true, then all babies born to a muggle and magical parent would be squibs."
"Then how do you explain squibs in the first place?"
"You three please!" Dumbledore shouted at them. "It is a difficult concept to understand. One in which I do not specialize in. We'll just have to accept the fact that some how squibs are born and—"
"Can we just get back on track please?" Harry requested loudly. The four of them looked at him with the faintest expression of offense on their faces, but nodded and mumbled apologies.
"Getting back on track," Dumbledore grunted before continuing, "maybe her biological parents gave her up for adoption because she was not able to perform magic and looked at it as a birth defect or a disability. I honestly don't have the slightest sensible idea as to why she was put up for adoption so please don't argue about that."
"But how do you personally know that she is a squib? For all I know, you could just be assuming all this," Harry stated, pulling the blood vial closer to him.
"You asked me to prove she was a squib, not if I knew she was or not. If you had just asked me that, my answer would have been plain and simple. She told me so," he replied, making his fingers' ends meet. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Dumbledore beat him to his question. "How did I know her you ask? Well, Petunia was sick and tired of being looked down on as a failure for being a squib. Ever since the day she was born, she felt that everyone hated her because of her disability to perform magic. She was given up for adoption because she was a squib while Lily was always being praised for her magical achievements."
"But why did they adopt her if they didn't want a squib?"
"Petunia's parents didn't know that she was one Harry. Anyway, her hatred towards those who despised her grew and she withdrew from the magical world completely. It wasn't until she learned of the luxuries that Voldemort offered to those who would accompany him did she become a Death Eater. Voldemort accepted her because she was harmless. Because she was a squib, she didn't propose a threat to the rest of the wizarding world. What could she do anyway? She definitely couldn't give off one of the Unforgivables. However, because of her mild image, she was able to gather information and give it to Voldemort and his followers without falling under suspicion.
"As the times grew more chaotic and more deaths occurred, it became much easier for Petunia to smuggle such important facts. But on the flip side, it became easier for aurors to catch her. We at the Order had some of the most precious documents and had to guard them with very high security and when she eventually tried to get them, we caught her."
"It was Shacklebolt wadnn't?" Moody mumbled.
"Yes," Lupin answered with an astonished gleam in his eye. "I just never knew who he was yelling at that night."
"Indeed it was Kingsley Shacklebolt, but he did not know Petunia at that time."
"So how did you know it was my aunt?" Harry asked. Dumbledore replied with a light shrug.
"Lily went to Hogwarts and then your Prophecy came into my life. I went to her and told her about it and seeing how Voldemort preferred to settle business, I asked her if she had any siblings or relatives. She asked me what I had meant by that. I told her. I told her Voldemort wasn't going to just push her and James aside while he tried to kill the one that had the power to vanquish him. I told her that he would most likely kill them first before trying to kill Harry. I told her that if the Prophecy was true, she would most likely die. I—"
"What did she do?"
"She started to cry like any person who knew that death might be coming for them. But as she cried, she placed her hands on her very pregnant belly. I think she was crying for you Harry, not for herself. Through sobs she listed two names. One was Perseus and the other was Petunia. Now at that time, we didn't know that Severus had changed his name or that he was an active Death Eater. Lily told me that he had moved out to live by himself as soon as his 7th year was over and wished us luck finding him. The rest of the Evans family had not heard from him since his move. She told me that they had sent him Christmas cards requesting that he return home for the holidays, but were unsuccessful in persuading him. In fact, she thought he might have died. If she only knew, but anyway, during my conversation with Lily, Kingsley was questioning Petunia. As I was about to ask Lily about the other name she had listed, Fawkes came soaring over towards me and dropped a letter onto the table between us. It was a simple message. 'Her name is Petunia Evans,' it read. I stared at Lily and boy, how her emerald eyes sparkled with tears. I just couldn't bare to let her see the letter. Knowing her sister was a Death Eater would devour her heart even more. I left.
"Petunia looked up at me from behind the desk she sat at and squinted through the light that illuminated her terrified face. Kingsley left the room after I told him it was to be a private conversation and guarded the door from the outside. I began to yell at her for all that she had done to terrorize the wizarding world. I shouted until I was hoarse and could shout no more. Sure she hadn't killed anyone, but she was killing her sister and her stolen information had killed others. I had caught her red handed; only her hands were pale and not covered in the blood of her victims. And it was because of her that I now appreciate and have more respect for squibs. I admit that I had the train of thought of many others who had not seen her as a threat, but I have learned and will not make that mistake again," Dumbledore stopped with a sigh. He drew in another long breath and sighed once more. A neighborhood dog barked in the distance. Harry felt an unpleasant sensation in the pit of his stomach knowing that for others, life was so normal and not twisted like his seemed to have become. The other wizards, the occupants of Privet Drive, and everyone else had no idea. He realized that over the summer and the tears he had shed had not only been for Sirius, but for the sudden death of his already waning childhood. He also felt a thin layer of guilt add to his unease at the thought of feeling that no one understood. No one could possibly understand. No one had been forced to grow up so quickly. It wasn't their fault.
"Harry?" Tonks asked worriedly. "You okay?"
"Oh—yeah. Yeah I'm—uh—I'm fine. I was just thinking," he answered while shifting his gaze onto Dumbledore's wizened face. "Are you okay Professor?" he asked stiffly.
"Yes. It's just a little hard to relive these memories. So as I was saying, I talked to her about Lily, being a Death Eater, the Prophecy, and Azkaban. When I mentioned Azkaban, she dropped to her knees and begged me not to sentence her there. She began to cry and even bargained with me. She said that she would give us names of the Death Eaters she knew if we let her go free, but I was not about to be tricked. She would have listed off fake names and continued with her work. It was then that I made a very tough decision. I said that I'd leave it up to our aurors to find Death Eaters and that I had better plans for her. When I mentioned this, she grabbed the hem of my cloak and tugged it, almost tearing it, pleading to not be killed. To cease her hyper ventilating, I told her to let go and to sit down and that I was not going to kill her. As soon as she was seated I," he cleared his throat, "began to tell her about the Prophecy and that because of the fact that we were not able to contact Severus and she claimed she was a blood related sibling, that Harry would have to go home with her. She then smiled and asked if that was all. I said it wasn't. I said that she would have to be banished from the wizarding world if she did not want to go to Azkaban. I explained that she was never to return to our life and that she must live the life of a muggle or else I would have to do all I could to seek out Severus, send Harry there, and sentence her to life in Azkaban. Many used tissues later, she finally agreed. I had officially banned Petunia Evans from the wizarding world. Now why did I make her pretend to be a muggle? The ministry would detect magic in a muggle area if I had placed a secret-keeping charm around her house and our covers would have been blown. Harry, all those people I had watching over you and still do, weren't always just watching you. They were keeping an eye on Petunia as well to make sure she was in line and not exposing our scheme. That's why I've never told you until now, but with this blood vial—"
"I can't believe you never told me!" he shouted angrily. "Why doesn't anyone tell me anything anymore? I can keep secrets! I wouldn't have told anyone!" "It was only to protect you."
"Protect me from what? You haven't protected me from anything by making me believe lies! How am I supposed to believe anything anymore? What if I didn't really get my scar from Voldemort? What if I had fallen out of someone's arms as a baby and you all just lied to protect the person who dropped me?" "Harry, Harry, Harry. You know perfectly well that your scar is from Voldemort and that everything I've told you is true," Dumbledore said trying to get Harry to relax. "You never told me about my aunt being a squib!"
"You never had a reason to know until now," Dumbledore replied softly.
"Well what about my Prophecy? You never told me about that!" Harry
yelled back.
"I already told you that by not telling you about your Prophecy sooner
was a serious flaw I made and that I am sorry. There is nothing I can
do about it now."
Harry swallowed and clenched his fists.
"I just—I need to go—I need to be alone for a bit," he sputtered as he pushed past Lupin and Tonks. The tense silence followed him out of the room. He got to the foot of the stairs and listened for Dumbledore, Lupin, Moody, or Tonks, but no one was talking in the kitchen. He turned around quickly and went inside his room. Last summer came back to him in a flash. He had been upset with everyone for not telling him anything and now the last remnants of that anger were rekindling. Petunia was a squib. His Prophecy was to be fulfilled. His mother's own blood had been bottled up and enclosed in a mini refrigerator that was buried behind a wall. There was nothing he could do but except accept things for what they were and the way they were. Mentally tired and exhausted from an emotional overdose, Harry flumped onto his bed and closed his heavy eyelids. I refuse to go back, he thought before the comfort of the bed over powered him.
It was a dreamless sleep. The kind of sleep that one would resort to when there are no other options left. In fact, it wasn't even a sleep. It was thinking things over while lying down with your eyes closed. Harry listened intently to the rise and fall of his own chest before sitting up again. There was too much circulating through his mind to shut his eyes to. With an aggravated sigh, he swung his legs over the side of his bed and stood up reluctantly. Harry could now hear Dumbledore, Lupin, Moody, and Tonks discussing something loudly in the kitchen. Then something caught his eye. It was flesh colored and peeked out from behind the desk in his room.
"What the—?" he mumbled in surprise as he realized what it was. "A human ear!" Indeed a human ear lay at the base of the desk. He rushed over to it and picked it up. It felt like an ear, but there wasn't a cut or dried blood caked on where it looked like it was cut off. Then a smile spread across Harry's stressed out and tense face. "The Weasleys definitely were here," he laughed. The ear was attached by a thin, almost invisible string to another ear. Fred and George's Extendable Ears. The talking downstairs had paused for a split second and then started up again.
"They're probably talking about other things I should know, but don't," he told the ear.
Harry got an idea.
He snuck over towards the foot of the stairs and crawled down stealthily to the point where he could place the ear close enough to the kitchen to hear. There was the brief crackle of static, and then the voices became clear.
"What are you talking about?" Dumbledore said.
"They're getting either more powerful or weaker as Voldemort becomes more human," Harry heard Moody reply.
"That's preposterous! They're humans! They can't change like that!"
"Well actually Albus, we have proof that may prove against you. We caught one lurking in front of Number 12 the other day and took him into the basement for questioning—"
"You're keeping a man captivated and help prisoner? Are you mad? If the ministry found out and he wasn't one then—"
"Calm down Albus. Calm down! You should have seen the sight of him and there was no mistakin' that he wasn't one. The dark mark was branded on his upper forearm. Tonks sat down there with him for hours recording his every move. Ain't that right Tonks?"
"Yep. I left my clipboard in the basement if you wanted to see the notes Albus," she said.
"He could have been a former Death Eater!" "You know, can't be too sure these days Professor," Lupin interjected conversationally. "How can you even be sure that you can trust someone when they say that they are a former Death Eater? As Voldemort grows stronger, our trust and patience becomes shorter and soon we'll all realize that you can't really trust anyone. We had to take him in Dumbledore, at least for our own safety." Harry heard Dumbledore sigh as he considered Lupin's explanation. Someone took a drink while another rapped their fingers lightly and without rhythm on the table.
"I'll go with you to get those notes Nymphadora," Dumbledore answered a few seconds later. "However, I still strongly disagree that you had him locked up and didn't tell me until now. Next time you catch someone and intend on keeping them locked up in that drafty basement, please tell me immediately." Though only Dumbledore and Tonks had offered to get her notes, Harry heard the unmistakable screech of four chairs as Lupin and Moody rose too. Harry got up quickly and ran towards the tapestry of the Black's family tree. He hid behind it and watched as Tonks led the way to the entrance of basement. The four of them approached the portrait of Sirius's mum and opened the curtain cautiously.
"Yes?" she asked gloomily instead of wailing.
"Sorry to bother you Mrs. Black, but we need to go into the basement," Tonks said.
"Very well," Mrs. Black sighed. She disappeared from the portrait and reappeared in a small one hanging over the kitchen stove. "Please hurry. This frame is rather constricting." Harry peered out from behind the tapestry and watched as they pushed back the portrait and unlocked a wooden, splintering door.
"Should someone check on Harry? What if he comes down and we're not there?" Lupin suggested. Moody grunted and started to hobble down the stairs as best as he could with his wooden leg. Dumbledore shook his head and followed after Moody.
"He won't be coming down any time soon. He's pretty upset," he said. Harry snorted in a that's-what-you-think kind of way and shifted his standing position anxiously. Finally, Tonks and Lupin went down the stairs, leaving the portrait to swing close. Harry darted out from behind the tapestry for his chance to follow them, but Mrs. Black had beaten him there.
"I'm not moving again," she told him sternly and folded her arms across her chest. "It is way too uncomfortable in that picture."
"Please? Just for a quick second?"
"If it wasn't for you, my son would still be alive," she scolded him with vivacious disapproval. "Why should I move for you?"
"It wasn't entirely my fault!"
"Oh wasn't it? You were the one who lured him out there in the first place!" Harry looked at her stubborn face and when he started to grow impatient, he swallowed his anger. She didn't know the half of it.
"Voldemort was the one who lured him out there and Bellatrix was the one who killed him," Harry explained, not wanting to get Mrs. Black more upset than usual.
"Bellatrix? Bellatrix Lestrange? She wouldn't kill Sirius! She's my niece!"
"She's changed since you probably last saw her. I mean, after all, you've been stuck in a portrait all this time," he said as he began to push back the portrait.
"What do you think you're doing!" "Going into the basement." Harry ignored her flustered grunts of protest and lifted to the portrait at such an angle that Mrs. Black slid into the far right corner. He reached the door and turned the handle cautiously, letting the portrait swing shut.
The basement smelt of newspaper drenched in gutter water. It was dank and dark; the only light source was that of a flickering light bulb in the middle of the ceiling. He heard the low mumblings of Moody, Lupin, Tonks, and Dumbledore and peered over the hand railing of the stairs. They were all huddled together under the light bulb and murmuring in barely audible voices.
"So what has happened to him?" Dumbledore asked, utterly perplexed at whatever he was staring at.
"We don't know for sure, but if you look at my notes here—" Tonks was cut off by a shrill scream coming from the corner of the room. Harry took this as the opportunity to sprint down the stairs without being heard. He hid behind a heap of towels that stank of mildew.
"What's he doing Tonks?" Lupin asked.
"Breaking down. The thing is, I don't know if he really is turning into something more powerful than a wizard or becoming schizophrenic," she laughed nervously, fixing one of her Mohawk spikes. "I'm joking guys. He's not becoming schizophrenic," she said to their nonexistent response.
"What do you mean becoming more powerful?"
"Well, when I spent five long hours down in this pneumonia inducing excuse for a basement, he began firing off random things," she walked out of the light over and came back with a clip board in her hand. "Some were just mumblings droned out by hysteric laughter, but one comment really caught my attention and honestly scared me a little bit," she folded back page after page of notes until she came to what she was looking for. "Right here—see?"
"'My Lord, take my life, my body, my soul, in exchange for an inimical inhumane form,'" Dumbledore read. All four of them looked up from Tonks's clipboard and stared at the dark corner. Harry tried to catch a glimpse of the apparently insane man, but Tonks's seagulls blocked his view.
The man had ceased his screaming.
"D'you think Voldemort is doing something to them? That maybe they are becoming inhuman?" Moody asked, beginning to open his hip flask that he had carried around all of Harry's fourth year.
"I don't know. I don't want to believe that Voldemort could have the magic to do something like this—to breed an army of hostile creatures we've never seen before," Dumbledore sighed. "Should probably still keep examining him to see what happens."
"Let's go back up then and look over these notes in better light," said Lupin.
"I can't right now. I have to return to Hogwarts and check up on the professors' health. I will be back in a few days. Keep my posted on his condition and tell Harry I said goodbye."
"Aren't you going to go up and talk to him Dumbledore?"
"No. I don't think he wants to talk to me for a while and I perfectly understand. I just wish he did," he said as he adjusted his hat and began to climb the stairs. They creaked with every step he took, threatening to give way.
"But Professor," Lupin stopped him as Dumbledore's hand began to turn the door knob, "what about Harry? Do we send him back?" Dumbledore's hand froze in mid turn, making Mrs. Black squawk in discomfort.
"Hurry on with it! Just get out!" she shrieked, but Dumbledore ignored her.
"Now that he has the blood there is no reason for him to go back to the Dursleys. Can you keep him here until I return?"
"Sure. No problem." Harry punched a triumphant fist into the air and placed his hand gently on the lump the vial created in his pocket. The anger that rained inside him left with Dumbledore as he stepped out the door. I never have to go back.
"Should we go talk to Harry?" Tonks suggested also starting to climb up the stairs and out of the room. One of her seagulls flew off her shoulder and landed on the post of the hand railing.
"Nah," Moody shook his head. "If Dumbledore didn't even wanna talk to him than he probably won't talk to us. Now let's get something to eat." Lupin looked at both Moody and Tonks and cocked his head towards the darkened corner.
"What about him?" he asked.
"What about 'im? He's already eaten and we'll check on him later," Moody responded as he hobbled up the stairs after Tonks. Lupin put his hands into his pockets and followed after them. The stairs moaned under the weight of the three pairs of feet and the light bulb flickered at their departing. Harry heard the last grumbles of Mrs. Black as the door closed shut. He breathed a sigh of relief.
"Never going back," he smiled, standing up. Harry kicked over the towel pile and began to walk towards the stairs. As they creaked, the man in the corner grunted and shifted in his chair. He paused on the third step up and looked back down at the patch of illuminated floor. He hesitated and then curiosity got the best of him. Harry walked into the light. In the dark, he could make out two eyes staring back at him. They had a slightly sedated and menacing look; never taking their gaze off Harry.
Harry pulled out his wand, not intending to perform any spells, but incase the man broke loose from his bindings it would scare him off, and grabbed the chain that the light bulb hung from. He pulled the chain out as far as it would go and shone it on the man in the corner.
It was horrifying.
The man sat hunched over like a deformed, anorexic monkey. His skin was the faintest shade of gray and had a scaly, reptile look to it. He was so thin that Harry could make out the veins in his arms. Now that the light was better on the man, Harry also saw that his eyes were not green, hazel, blue, or brown, but in fact a mix between orange and yellow. The few strands of hair that sprouted from his head were matted and tangled. Where teeth were supposed to grow, there were pale yellow fangs. His fingers were long and bony and the nails looked bloody and infected. They had begun to curl due to the length and neglect of their hygiene. At his feet there was a puddle of what Harry thought to be bodily fluids.
"They're certainly not getting stronger," he breathed, shocked that in Sirius's house was a deteriorating Death Eater. "Not if they look like this." The man drew back his lips into a grimace and bared his teeth. Harry took a step back, but this startled the man. He straightened up in his chair and thrashed, almost tipping himself over. He then lowered his head and started to gnaw at the bindings that held him captive. Harry took another step back and gripped his wand even tighter. The light flickered and went out.
Harry yelled and Tonks's seagull began squawking uncontrollably. He ran towards the wall and began to search blindly for the stairs. He could still hear the Death Eater chewing on his straps as he felt his way towards the hand railing. Something wrapped around his leg. He fell to the floor with a thud. It was only the towels he had kicked over. Harry clutched the wrist that he had fallen on and listened hopelessly at the gnashing of teeth against the straps and the saliva that the man sucked back. As he scrambled to stand up, there was another tearing sound. The last binding had broken.
Harry heard the chair being tossed aside. It crashed into the wall with a splintering crack. Tonks's seagull took flight and fluttered around the room. He could hear the Death Eater overturning tables and thrashing around searching for Harry. The walls were moist to the touch as he clung to them. The man began to yell again, piercing the blackened basement air. He felt something make contact with the side of his face. Harry picked up what had been thrown. It felt like the chair leg. He crouched down and stuck his hand out, feeling for a sign of the wooden steps. And then the man stopped. His panting simmered down to that of a wheezing whistle.
"He's in here my Lord," the man said.
"Kill him," a second voice chimed in. "Kill him and eat him. I'm hungry."
"I can't see him!"
"Then find another way to get him!"
"How?"
"Sniff him out or something!" Harry backed into the corner of the room and held his wand close to his chest. He listened to the voices argue with each other about how to locate him. If I could only see the stairs! he thought angrily. He could picture the basement in his mind's eye, but the stairs seemed to have disappeared. It then occurred to him that using your wand as a light source wasn't considered underage magic.
"Lumos," he muttered into his chest. The tip of his wand lighted and he held it out in front of his face to see. The stairs were on the other side of the basement. The man was crouched down in the middle of the room with his back towards Harry. He held his head and twitched every time he changed voices. There was no second man.
"Behind you!" the second voice yelled suddenly, taking Harry by surprise. The man spun around and launched himself at Harry. His wand was knocked from his hand and rolled across the floor. The seagull cawed even louder. The strength of the Death Eater was underestimated by his feeble appearance. He kept Harry pinned down against the cold, damp ground. The Death Eater lowered his head in Harry's face and breathed putrid breath on him. His yellow-orange eyes crept upon his neck and Harry felt his skin burn underneath the stare. A drool string, thick and weighty with phlegm at the bottom, but stringy and thin as it ascended back to the man's lip, hung dangerously close to Harry's chin. Harry flailed and tried to push the man off him, but he wouldn't budge. He threw his hands down at his sides and scrambled them around in order to find something with enough mass to smack the Death Eater off him.
His hand brushed up against the blood vial.
Harry pulled it out of his pocket and brought his arms above the Death Eater's back. Then with all the strength that the Death Eater hadn't managed to strangle out of him, he drove it into his spine. The man began to convulse, his eyes bulging, the string of saliva plopped onto Harry's chin and tickled him as it dripped down his neck. He pushed the man of him and ran towards his wand. The seagull fluttered over to Harry and landed on his shoulder. It started nipping his ear, eventually biting it and pulling at it.
"Ow! Stop! Stop! Get off!" he yelled at it. Harry seized the seagull by the throat and yanked it off of him. He felt a warm, wet substance trickle down his ear. He bent down to grab his wand. His fingers brushed against the wood, but fell limp as a sharp, searing pain rippled through his back. Harry crashed to the ground and held one hand to his bleeding back. He looked up at the face that stood over him. The Death Eater also clutched his back with one hand, but he was smiling as he did so. He rolled over and kicked the Death Eater in the stomach, sending him tumbling into the towel pile. He then picked himself up, swaggered over, and collapsed on top of him. The man screamed, the seagull cried, and Harry growled.
He turned the man over and retrieved the vial out of his punctured skin. The point was covered by a thin, watery substance. It dripped down his hand and down his sleeve.
"Thanks Mum," he murmured before placing it back into his pocket. The room swayed with the rhythm of the pulsating pain in his back. Harry glanced down at the man's fingers. The nails were painted with Harry's own blood. Harry raised his fist behind his year, but the basement door opened and Tonks's silhouette appeared, interrupting Harry's punch.
"I'm right here you stupid bird! No use crying so much. Man it's dark in here. Lumos," she said. Harry paused, fist still raised above his ear.
"Tonks! He—he attacked me," he spluttered.
"Harry! What? He attacked—Remus! Mad-Eye! He attacked Harry!" Harry heard the peg-legged shuffle of Moody as he hurried to her side. Lupin showed up not a second later. They rushed down the stairs, muttering lumos into their own wands and pulled Harry off the twitching Death Eater.
"Harry," Lupin said in a calm, yet somewhat panicky voice. "Harry are you alright?"
"He attacked me. I—I had to stab him. He attacked me," Harry replied, shaking. "He stabbed me also. My back. . . ." Lupin scooped Harry up in his arms as best as he could and dragged him over to a chair covered by a dusty sheet. He pulled the sheet off and set him down gently.
"Where is your wand?" he asked. Harry pointed to where it lay, still lighted. Lupin went and retrieved it, placing it in Harry's limp hands, but it fell out and rolled into the middle of the basement. Harry caught one last glimpse of the Death Eater's raging eyes before he blacked out. The last he heard was Tonks and Moody pulling out their own wands.
The door shut slowly as if questioning Harry if he was making the right decision. He turned his back to it and did not move until the door clicked shut, sealing the deal. It was then that Harry realized that he had left the torn photo album in Dudley's room. As much as he enjoyed looking through it, he couldn't go back. Going back was too much of a forgiving gesture.
Harry had left Hedwig at Hogwarts, thinking it would be better for her to stay until he came back, but was now becoming aware of the fact that he did not have a way to contact anyone. He began to tug his trunk along the path towards the park where he had spent so many summer days before his fifth year. He could hear the movement of glass at the bottom of the trunk; the last remnants of Sirius's mirror. He heaved a sigh and tried to shut it out of his mind.
"You know what Harry? Don't be so disgusted," he said to himself. "You are never going to have a normal school year. You never were. Doomed from day one," he added with a small smile. "I shoulda known. Should have known." Holding this conversation with himself gained him a few stares from the neighbors of Number Four Privet Drive. They had stopped raking the leaves in their yard, or froze as they bent over to get the two-day-old newspaper and watched as he dragged his enormous trunk to an unknown destination. Harry ignored them. They had no idea of his complicated world. Unconsciously, he placed a protective hand over the pocket in which the vial was in.
The park came into view and Harry was glad to find it unoccupied by the rest of Dudley's gang. He dragged his trunk through the sand and sat down on a swing suspended by rusty chain links. Slowly he swung back and forth, letting the shock of the Dursley house sink in.
"What do you think your doing?"
"Huh? Who's—Mrs. Figg!" Harry said, jumping out of his swing at the voice behind him. She rushed over to him and placed her hands on her hips.
"What's this?" she asked, pointing at the trunk.
"I'm leaving the Dursleys."
"What?" she gasped. "You can't do that! Dumbledore—"
"Dumbledore doesn't know something he really should. I need to tell him and plus," he paused, staring back down at the direction of the house, "I don't need them anymore."
"Are you kidding me? Of course you need them! They're your best protection against Voldemort! Now you get back home and mail him this urgent news!"
"I can't. I left Hedwig at Hogwarts."
"Well my owl shall feel up to it," she said hastily. "Come on now."
"No Mrs. Figg. You don't understand. I can't go back. Dumbledore would understand. He'd let me leave if he new why. I really must speak to him in person."
"You're always gettin' yourself into trouble," she mumbled, thinking that Harry couldn't hear her. "What with the dementors last year and all. I'll be supposin' you'll want me to take you to Grimmuald Place then?"
"Yes please."
She sighed.
"Alright then. My house isn't too far away from here so I believe you can manage to pull your trunk there. I warn you now Harry, despite how urgent this may be, Dumbledore is not going to be all that happy."
"Oh I know that Mrs. Figg," Harry answered as he started lifting up his trunk. "What I have to tell him is going to make him upset anyway." As they started walking towards Mrs. Figg's house, the eyes that followed Harry on his way to the park were now following him again. Mrs. Figg didn't take notice of it and instead mumbled to Harry to hurry up. In a short while, her house came into view. Harry figured it was her house when he saw three or four cats in the yard, pouncing on leaves being blown in the wind. When Mrs. Figg walked up the driveway, they swarmed to her feet and began to curl around her ankles.
"They're hungry," she told Harry. "I don't know why. I just fed them. If they eat any more they're going to look like furry pigs rather than cute little kittens." An image of Dudley came to Harry's mind. "Come on in," she ushered, unlocking the door.
Mrs. Figg's house had changed since he had last seen it quite a few years ago. The walls had a dusty appearance to them and there were black and white muggle photographs cluttering the coffee table in between two couches. In the corner, lit by the sunlight spilling in from the window above it, was a faded blue armchair with a gray cat curled on the seat. The inside smelt of vanilla and daisies. It was a very nice change from the Dursley's house. He wondered why he always hated having tea at Mrs. Figg's house when he was much younger.
"Go ahead and place your trunk by the fireplace. If anyone's home over there, we're going to arrive by floo. I got connected to the network just last month."
"Oh okay," Harry said, still taking in the comfort of Mrs. Figg's house. Maybe I could return here every summer, he thought as he placed his trunk by the hearth. She came up behind him with what looked like a miniature ceramic pot. She scooped a handful of floo powder into her hand, tossed it into the fireplace, stuck her head inside, and demanded Grimmuald Place. Harry watched as she craned her neck to the left and right, obviously looking in through Grimmuald's fire place. She spotted someone (it wasn't clear who due to the roaring flames) and chatted for a brief minute with them. Harry heard her muffled voice offer a goodbye and she pulled her head out from the furnace.
"You're in luck. Moody, Remus, and Tonks are there. The others are at the ministry keeping an eye out. One of the three at home is contacting Dumbledore as we speak. Now," she said as she lifted Harry's trunk with a grunt and placed it inside the furnace, "get in. We don't need to waste time. Here—alright, now that you have your floo powder, go!"
"What about you?" he asked.
"Someone's going to have to be here when you get back now Harry."
"I am not going back!" Mrs. Figg laughed somewhat evilly at Harry's outburst.
"We'll see about that. Off you go now!" she turned her back on him and walked into the kitchen calling her numerous amounts of cats. They ran to her, except for the one in the chair which was too lazy to move, and began curling around her legs as she opened two or three cans of cat food. He threw his floo powder onto the ground and shouted, "Grimmuald Place!" Bright green flashed in front of him and Mrs. Figg's house was gone.
His trunk came out first and landed with a gigantic thud. Harry came tumbling after it and landed face first onto the ground with a sickening smack. Uneven footsteps hobbled towards him and stopped in front of his broken glasses that had landed three feet ahead of him. A wheezing, ragged laugh came from above his head.
"Graceful landing Potter," Harry heard Moody growl. "It was also a nice way to make an entrance. . .with a bang," he started laughing. Harry sat himself up plunged his hand inside his pocket to make sure the vial wasn't broken. To his relief, it was perfectly fine. He then reached blindly for his glasses. He felt a rough hand hook under his arm pit and jerk him up into a standing position. "Nice black eye ya got there. Did the trip here give you all those injuries?"
"No I—" Harry began, but was cut off.
"That Harry Mad-Eye?" a female voice called from around the corner. Harry recognized it as Tonks's voice and saw her blurry shape come into view. He got down on his knees again and began to grope for his glasses. "Here let me help you," she said and muttered reparo. Harry heard his glasses fix themselves and felt them being pushed into his hand.
"Thanks," he said, slipping them on. Moody stood in front of him with a bizarre grin on his face and his magical eye whizzing around in his socket. He offered a hand and Harry shook it gingerly. Tonks was dressed the most strangely he had ever seen her. Her purple hair was replaced by a neon green Mohawk that practically touched the ceiling. The shirt she wore was sleeveless and torn in various places and she had four seagulls perched on her shoulder. Her pants were like his denim jeans, only it looked as if splotches of bleach and been spilled all over them. "Acid wash," Tonks laughed at Harry's puzzled expression. "It's a muggle thing." "What about the birds?"
"Flock of seagulls. I couldn't decide if I wanted the hair style or the real thing. Eventually I chose the Mohawk and decided to get the birds. Adds to my lovely appearance eh?"
"You're a nut case," Moody snorted. "Even wizards are scared of you. It's not just muggles anymore." Tonks stuck her tongue out at Moody and turned back to Harry.
"Good to see you again," she smiled, offering her hand.
"You too," he replied. "Both of you, but where is—"
"Hello Harry," Lupin greeted soberly as he entered the room with his hands casually in his pockets. Lupin looked like he had at the beginning of Harry's third year; tired and sickly. His lips were chapped and his eyes were pink with exhaustion, but even so, he managed to welcome Harry with a smile.
"Hi Professor."
"How have you been?" he asked, taking his hands out of his pockets slowly.
"I don't know really. You?"
"Alright I guess," Lupin shrugged. One of Tonks's seagulls squawked and landed on Harry's shoulder. It nipped his ear affectionately and then began to caw loudly.
"Alright! ALRIGHT!" Tonks shouted at it. "Excuse me for a second boys, they need some exercise."
"Hopefully they'll be hunted down. Those damn things are so annoying, especially at night," Moody whispered to Harry. "I'll take your trunk up to your room. Make yourself at home."
"Thanks," Harry said. Moody waved a hand, dismissing his gratitude and began to haul his trunk up the stairs.
"Let's go into the kitchen Harry," Lupin said. "I want to talk to you for a few minutes if you don't mind."
"Okay," said Harry as he followed Lupin into the kitchen and pulled up a chair to the kitchen table. Lupin looked at him and then hung his head and sighed. "What's wrong?"
"I keep reliving it over and over," Lupin confessed lifting his head up slowly with his eyes closed. "Over and over throughout the night. I can hardly sleep. I guess the realization of it has finally sunken in. I'm terrified Harry. Terrified out of my mind."
"Terrified of what?"
"Of it all coming to an end. I'm not scared for my life though," Lupin said, still looking at the table. "I'm scared for yours." Harry nodded. "Harry, you are the closest thing I have to James and Sirius now. I lost them both to Voldemort. I can't lose you. I cannot let them down like that. I know it sounds selfish me saying 'I can't do this and I can't do that,' but I lost my two greatest friends in the world. I just can't afford to lose you too. That's why you have to go back to the Dursleys. You may not like it there, but it's safer than out here."
"It's not safer there any more," he sighed, placing his hand on his pocket and holding the blood vial tightly. Suddenly, a door banged open and heavy footfalls stormed inside. Moody paused in the middle of the staircase with his wand drawn, and Tonks ran into the room with her seagulls flying in after her. Lupin jumped up startled too.
"Oh," Moody snarled. "It's only Albus." He tucked his wand back into his robes walked down the rest of the steps.
"Where is Harry?" Dumbledore asked gravely.
"I think he's in the kitchen with Remus." Dumbledore walked into the kitchen and beamed down dangerously at Harry. There was no smile upon his face. Lupin scurried off and brought back a chair for Dumbledore to sit in. He muttered a thank you, never taking his eyes off Harry. Harry became extremely aware of the presence of the vial.
"Why are you here Harry?"
"I really needed to talk to you," he answered, undaunted by Dumbledore's frightening mood. "I left Hedwig at school because I thought it'd be better for her."
"But why did you come here to Grimmuald Place? You are putting everyone in the Order in danger and risking the exposure of our headquarters," he demanded sternly.
"I didn't have anywhere else to go! I couldn't go to the Burrow because I didn't want to put the Weasleys in danger. At least the Order is prepared to fight."
"Well you're lucky Harry," Lupin cut in. "The Weasleys just left." Moody and Tonks entered the kitchen also. Everyone stared down at Harry. He felt their eyes crawl on his skin like poisonous bugs. Unable to withstand it any longer, he tore the vial out from his pocket and placed it in the middle of the table.
"This is why I'm here!" he said, pointing to the vial. "This is my big protection from Voldemort that the Dursleys were supposed to possess. This is my mum's blood!" Tonks gasped. Moody produced a low growl of a dog warning intruders. Lupin's eyes narrowed and Dumbledore looked like he had been hit in the face with a sack of potatoes.
"What—?"
"They had kept it in a refrigerator buried in the wall of my room," Harry told them as he thought spitefully of the Dursleys. "Petunia is adopted." There was a murmur of confusion.
"She lied to me!" Dumbledore shouted, pounding his fist on the table. "She lied to face!" He ripped off his half-moon spectacles and placed his thumb and forefinger on the bridge of his nose and mumbled to himself. "She should've been in Azkaban!"
"What do you mean?" Harry asked. "She's a muggle. She—she couldn't have gone to Azkaban." Dumbledore took a deep breath and held it. It wasn't until a few seconds later that he exhaled deeply and looked up at Harry. He could see the words forming inside Dumbledore's mind, but he apparently had trouble spitting them out.
"She is a muggle," Harry stated again.
"No Harry," Dumbledore spat angrily. "She's not a muggle. She's a squib." Tonks clasped her hands over her mouth and stifled a gasp. Lupin took a step back in surprise and Moody did not move at all.
"What? What do you—I don't believe—prove it!" he sputtered. Tonks nodded lightly in agreement with Harry's command. "Petunia Evans a witch? I don't believe it either Albus!" Lupin agreed with Harry. Moody still did not move at all. They watched as Dumbledore placed his glasses back on his nose and pushed them up stiffly. He sighed.
"It makes sense if you look at it closely enough. The words she used to describe Lily, the cruelty she inflicted on you Harry. Are you sure you even need me to explain?" No one said anything. "Very well," Dumbledore said, his voice echoing throughout the house. "It will be harder to prove now that I have learned she is adopted. My only explanation might sound like I just thought of it, well, because I just did. However, I have reason to believe that it could be correct. My thought is this: Petunia was born to one muggle parent and one magical parent thus resulting in being born a squib. If you want to delve into genetics and the probability of it then go right ahead, but since only one of her parents could have been a wizard or witch, perhaps she only inherited half the ability to perform magic."
"That would mean that her muggle characteristics would have to cancel out the gene for magical capability," Moody said at last. "I don't think you can inherit half of something. It's either all or nothing."
"What he means Mad-Eye is that she didn't have the other chromosome to become fully magical," Tonks corrected him.
"No that's not true Tonks," Lupin cut in. "Because if what you are suggesting is true, then all babies born to a muggle and magical parent would be squibs."
"Then how do you explain squibs in the first place?"
"You three please!" Dumbledore shouted at them. "It is a difficult concept to understand. One in which I do not specialize in. We'll just have to accept the fact that some how squibs are born and—"
"Can we just get back on track please?" Harry requested loudly. The four of them looked at him with the faintest expression of offense on their faces, but nodded and mumbled apologies.
"Getting back on track," Dumbledore grunted before continuing, "maybe her biological parents gave her up for adoption because she was not able to perform magic and looked at it as a birth defect or a disability. I honestly don't have the slightest sensible idea as to why she was put up for adoption so please don't argue about that."
"But how do you personally know that she is a squib? For all I know, you could just be assuming all this," Harry stated, pulling the blood vial closer to him.
"You asked me to prove she was a squib, not if I knew she was or not. If you had just asked me that, my answer would have been plain and simple. She told me so," he replied, making his fingers' ends meet. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Dumbledore beat him to his question. "How did I know her you ask? Well, Petunia was sick and tired of being looked down on as a failure for being a squib. Ever since the day she was born, she felt that everyone hated her because of her disability to perform magic. She was given up for adoption because she was a squib while Lily was always being praised for her magical achievements."
"But why did they adopt her if they didn't want a squib?"
"Petunia's parents didn't know that she was one Harry. Anyway, her hatred towards those who despised her grew and she withdrew from the magical world completely. It wasn't until she learned of the luxuries that Voldemort offered to those who would accompany him did she become a Death Eater. Voldemort accepted her because she was harmless. Because she was a squib, she didn't propose a threat to the rest of the wizarding world. What could she do anyway? She definitely couldn't give off one of the Unforgivables. However, because of her mild image, she was able to gather information and give it to Voldemort and his followers without falling under suspicion.
"As the times grew more chaotic and more deaths occurred, it became much easier for Petunia to smuggle such important facts. But on the flip side, it became easier for aurors to catch her. We at the Order had some of the most precious documents and had to guard them with very high security and when she eventually tried to get them, we caught her."
"It was Shacklebolt wadnn't?" Moody mumbled.
"Yes," Lupin answered with an astonished gleam in his eye. "I just never knew who he was yelling at that night."
"Indeed it was Kingsley Shacklebolt, but he did not know Petunia at that time."
"So how did you know it was my aunt?" Harry asked. Dumbledore replied with a light shrug.
"Lily went to Hogwarts and then your Prophecy came into my life. I went to her and told her about it and seeing how Voldemort preferred to settle business, I asked her if she had any siblings or relatives. She asked me what I had meant by that. I told her. I told her Voldemort wasn't going to just push her and James aside while he tried to kill the one that had the power to vanquish him. I told her that he would most likely kill them first before trying to kill Harry. I told her that if the Prophecy was true, she would most likely die. I—"
"What did she do?"
"She started to cry like any person who knew that death might be coming for them. But as she cried, she placed her hands on her very pregnant belly. I think she was crying for you Harry, not for herself. Through sobs she listed two names. One was Perseus and the other was Petunia. Now at that time, we didn't know that Severus had changed his name or that he was an active Death Eater. Lily told me that he had moved out to live by himself as soon as his 7th year was over and wished us luck finding him. The rest of the Evans family had not heard from him since his move. She told me that they had sent him Christmas cards requesting that he return home for the holidays, but were unsuccessful in persuading him. In fact, she thought he might have died. If she only knew, but anyway, during my conversation with Lily, Kingsley was questioning Petunia. As I was about to ask Lily about the other name she had listed, Fawkes came soaring over towards me and dropped a letter onto the table between us. It was a simple message. 'Her name is Petunia Evans,' it read. I stared at Lily and boy, how her emerald eyes sparkled with tears. I just couldn't bare to let her see the letter. Knowing her sister was a Death Eater would devour her heart even more. I left.
"Petunia looked up at me from behind the desk she sat at and squinted through the light that illuminated her terrified face. Kingsley left the room after I told him it was to be a private conversation and guarded the door from the outside. I began to yell at her for all that she had done to terrorize the wizarding world. I shouted until I was hoarse and could shout no more. Sure she hadn't killed anyone, but she was killing her sister and her stolen information had killed others. I had caught her red handed; only her hands were pale and not covered in the blood of her victims. And it was because of her that I now appreciate and have more respect for squibs. I admit that I had the train of thought of many others who had not seen her as a threat, but I have learned and will not make that mistake again," Dumbledore stopped with a sigh. He drew in another long breath and sighed once more. A neighborhood dog barked in the distance. Harry felt an unpleasant sensation in the pit of his stomach knowing that for others, life was so normal and not twisted like his seemed to have become. The other wizards, the occupants of Privet Drive, and everyone else had no idea. He realized that over the summer and the tears he had shed had not only been for Sirius, but for the sudden death of his already waning childhood. He also felt a thin layer of guilt add to his unease at the thought of feeling that no one understood. No one could possibly understand. No one had been forced to grow up so quickly. It wasn't their fault.
"Harry?" Tonks asked worriedly. "You okay?"
"Oh—yeah. Yeah I'm—uh—I'm fine. I was just thinking," he answered while shifting his gaze onto Dumbledore's wizened face. "Are you okay Professor?" he asked stiffly.
"Yes. It's just a little hard to relive these memories. So as I was saying, I talked to her about Lily, being a Death Eater, the Prophecy, and Azkaban. When I mentioned Azkaban, she dropped to her knees and begged me not to sentence her there. She began to cry and even bargained with me. She said that she would give us names of the Death Eaters she knew if we let her go free, but I was not about to be tricked. She would have listed off fake names and continued with her work. It was then that I made a very tough decision. I said that I'd leave it up to our aurors to find Death Eaters and that I had better plans for her. When I mentioned this, she grabbed the hem of my cloak and tugged it, almost tearing it, pleading to not be killed. To cease her hyper ventilating, I told her to let go and to sit down and that I was not going to kill her. As soon as she was seated I," he cleared his throat, "began to tell her about the Prophecy and that because of the fact that we were not able to contact Severus and she claimed she was a blood related sibling, that Harry would have to go home with her. She then smiled and asked if that was all. I said it wasn't. I said that she would have to be banished from the wizarding world if she did not want to go to Azkaban. I explained that she was never to return to our life and that she must live the life of a muggle or else I would have to do all I could to seek out Severus, send Harry there, and sentence her to life in Azkaban. Many used tissues later, she finally agreed. I had officially banned Petunia Evans from the wizarding world. Now why did I make her pretend to be a muggle? The ministry would detect magic in a muggle area if I had placed a secret-keeping charm around her house and our covers would have been blown. Harry, all those people I had watching over you and still do, weren't always just watching you. They were keeping an eye on Petunia as well to make sure she was in line and not exposing our scheme. That's why I've never told you until now, but with this blood vial—"
"I can't believe you never told me!" he shouted angrily. "Why doesn't anyone tell me anything anymore? I can keep secrets! I wouldn't have told anyone!" "It was only to protect you."
"Protect me from what? You haven't protected me from anything by making me believe lies! How am I supposed to believe anything anymore? What if I didn't really get my scar from Voldemort? What if I had fallen out of someone's arms as a baby and you all just lied to protect the person who dropped me?" "Harry, Harry, Harry. You know perfectly well that your scar is from Voldemort and that everything I've told you is true," Dumbledore said trying to get Harry to relax. "You never told me about my aunt being a squib!"
"You never had a reason to know until now," Dumbledore replied softly.
"Well what about my Prophecy? You never told me about that!" Harry
yelled back.
"I already told you that by not telling you about your Prophecy sooner
was a serious flaw I made and that I am sorry. There is nothing I can
do about it now."
Harry swallowed and clenched his fists.
"I just—I need to go—I need to be alone for a bit," he sputtered as he pushed past Lupin and Tonks. The tense silence followed him out of the room. He got to the foot of the stairs and listened for Dumbledore, Lupin, Moody, or Tonks, but no one was talking in the kitchen. He turned around quickly and went inside his room. Last summer came back to him in a flash. He had been upset with everyone for not telling him anything and now the last remnants of that anger were rekindling. Petunia was a squib. His Prophecy was to be fulfilled. His mother's own blood had been bottled up and enclosed in a mini refrigerator that was buried behind a wall. There was nothing he could do but except accept things for what they were and the way they were. Mentally tired and exhausted from an emotional overdose, Harry flumped onto his bed and closed his heavy eyelids. I refuse to go back, he thought before the comfort of the bed over powered him.
It was a dreamless sleep. The kind of sleep that one would resort to when there are no other options left. In fact, it wasn't even a sleep. It was thinking things over while lying down with your eyes closed. Harry listened intently to the rise and fall of his own chest before sitting up again. There was too much circulating through his mind to shut his eyes to. With an aggravated sigh, he swung his legs over the side of his bed and stood up reluctantly. Harry could now hear Dumbledore, Lupin, Moody, and Tonks discussing something loudly in the kitchen. Then something caught his eye. It was flesh colored and peeked out from behind the desk in his room.
"What the—?" he mumbled in surprise as he realized what it was. "A human ear!" Indeed a human ear lay at the base of the desk. He rushed over to it and picked it up. It felt like an ear, but there wasn't a cut or dried blood caked on where it looked like it was cut off. Then a smile spread across Harry's stressed out and tense face. "The Weasleys definitely were here," he laughed. The ear was attached by a thin, almost invisible string to another ear. Fred and George's Extendable Ears. The talking downstairs had paused for a split second and then started up again.
"They're probably talking about other things I should know, but don't," he told the ear.
Harry got an idea.
He snuck over towards the foot of the stairs and crawled down stealthily to the point where he could place the ear close enough to the kitchen to hear. There was the brief crackle of static, and then the voices became clear.
"What are you talking about?" Dumbledore said.
"They're getting either more powerful or weaker as Voldemort becomes more human," Harry heard Moody reply.
"That's preposterous! They're humans! They can't change like that!"
"Well actually Albus, we have proof that may prove against you. We caught one lurking in front of Number 12 the other day and took him into the basement for questioning—"
"You're keeping a man captivated and help prisoner? Are you mad? If the ministry found out and he wasn't one then—"
"Calm down Albus. Calm down! You should have seen the sight of him and there was no mistakin' that he wasn't one. The dark mark was branded on his upper forearm. Tonks sat down there with him for hours recording his every move. Ain't that right Tonks?"
"Yep. I left my clipboard in the basement if you wanted to see the notes Albus," she said.
"He could have been a former Death Eater!" "You know, can't be too sure these days Professor," Lupin interjected conversationally. "How can you even be sure that you can trust someone when they say that they are a former Death Eater? As Voldemort grows stronger, our trust and patience becomes shorter and soon we'll all realize that you can't really trust anyone. We had to take him in Dumbledore, at least for our own safety." Harry heard Dumbledore sigh as he considered Lupin's explanation. Someone took a drink while another rapped their fingers lightly and without rhythm on the table.
"I'll go with you to get those notes Nymphadora," Dumbledore answered a few seconds later. "However, I still strongly disagree that you had him locked up and didn't tell me until now. Next time you catch someone and intend on keeping them locked up in that drafty basement, please tell me immediately." Though only Dumbledore and Tonks had offered to get her notes, Harry heard the unmistakable screech of four chairs as Lupin and Moody rose too. Harry got up quickly and ran towards the tapestry of the Black's family tree. He hid behind it and watched as Tonks led the way to the entrance of basement. The four of them approached the portrait of Sirius's mum and opened the curtain cautiously.
"Yes?" she asked gloomily instead of wailing.
"Sorry to bother you Mrs. Black, but we need to go into the basement," Tonks said.
"Very well," Mrs. Black sighed. She disappeared from the portrait and reappeared in a small one hanging over the kitchen stove. "Please hurry. This frame is rather constricting." Harry peered out from behind the tapestry and watched as they pushed back the portrait and unlocked a wooden, splintering door.
"Should someone check on Harry? What if he comes down and we're not there?" Lupin suggested. Moody grunted and started to hobble down the stairs as best as he could with his wooden leg. Dumbledore shook his head and followed after Moody.
"He won't be coming down any time soon. He's pretty upset," he said. Harry snorted in a that's-what-you-think kind of way and shifted his standing position anxiously. Finally, Tonks and Lupin went down the stairs, leaving the portrait to swing close. Harry darted out from behind the tapestry for his chance to follow them, but Mrs. Black had beaten him there.
"I'm not moving again," she told him sternly and folded her arms across her chest. "It is way too uncomfortable in that picture."
"Please? Just for a quick second?"
"If it wasn't for you, my son would still be alive," she scolded him with vivacious disapproval. "Why should I move for you?"
"It wasn't entirely my fault!"
"Oh wasn't it? You were the one who lured him out there in the first place!" Harry looked at her stubborn face and when he started to grow impatient, he swallowed his anger. She didn't know the half of it.
"Voldemort was the one who lured him out there and Bellatrix was the one who killed him," Harry explained, not wanting to get Mrs. Black more upset than usual.
"Bellatrix? Bellatrix Lestrange? She wouldn't kill Sirius! She's my niece!"
"She's changed since you probably last saw her. I mean, after all, you've been stuck in a portrait all this time," he said as he began to push back the portrait.
"What do you think you're doing!" "Going into the basement." Harry ignored her flustered grunts of protest and lifted to the portrait at such an angle that Mrs. Black slid into the far right corner. He reached the door and turned the handle cautiously, letting the portrait swing shut.
The basement smelt of newspaper drenched in gutter water. It was dank and dark; the only light source was that of a flickering light bulb in the middle of the ceiling. He heard the low mumblings of Moody, Lupin, Tonks, and Dumbledore and peered over the hand railing of the stairs. They were all huddled together under the light bulb and murmuring in barely audible voices.
"So what has happened to him?" Dumbledore asked, utterly perplexed at whatever he was staring at.
"We don't know for sure, but if you look at my notes here—" Tonks was cut off by a shrill scream coming from the corner of the room. Harry took this as the opportunity to sprint down the stairs without being heard. He hid behind a heap of towels that stank of mildew.
"What's he doing Tonks?" Lupin asked.
"Breaking down. The thing is, I don't know if he really is turning into something more powerful than a wizard or becoming schizophrenic," she laughed nervously, fixing one of her Mohawk spikes. "I'm joking guys. He's not becoming schizophrenic," she said to their nonexistent response.
"What do you mean becoming more powerful?"
"Well, when I spent five long hours down in this pneumonia inducing excuse for a basement, he began firing off random things," she walked out of the light over and came back with a clip board in her hand. "Some were just mumblings droned out by hysteric laughter, but one comment really caught my attention and honestly scared me a little bit," she folded back page after page of notes until she came to what she was looking for. "Right here—see?"
"'My Lord, take my life, my body, my soul, in exchange for an inimical inhumane form,'" Dumbledore read. All four of them looked up from Tonks's clipboard and stared at the dark corner. Harry tried to catch a glimpse of the apparently insane man, but Tonks's seagulls blocked his view.
The man had ceased his screaming.
"D'you think Voldemort is doing something to them? That maybe they are becoming inhuman?" Moody asked, beginning to open his hip flask that he had carried around all of Harry's fourth year.
"I don't know. I don't want to believe that Voldemort could have the magic to do something like this—to breed an army of hostile creatures we've never seen before," Dumbledore sighed. "Should probably still keep examining him to see what happens."
"Let's go back up then and look over these notes in better light," said Lupin.
"I can't right now. I have to return to Hogwarts and check up on the professors' health. I will be back in a few days. Keep my posted on his condition and tell Harry I said goodbye."
"Aren't you going to go up and talk to him Dumbledore?"
"No. I don't think he wants to talk to me for a while and I perfectly understand. I just wish he did," he said as he adjusted his hat and began to climb the stairs. They creaked with every step he took, threatening to give way.
"But Professor," Lupin stopped him as Dumbledore's hand began to turn the door knob, "what about Harry? Do we send him back?" Dumbledore's hand froze in mid turn, making Mrs. Black squawk in discomfort.
"Hurry on with it! Just get out!" she shrieked, but Dumbledore ignored her.
"Now that he has the blood there is no reason for him to go back to the Dursleys. Can you keep him here until I return?"
"Sure. No problem." Harry punched a triumphant fist into the air and placed his hand gently on the lump the vial created in his pocket. The anger that rained inside him left with Dumbledore as he stepped out the door. I never have to go back.
"Should we go talk to Harry?" Tonks suggested also starting to climb up the stairs and out of the room. One of her seagulls flew off her shoulder and landed on the post of the hand railing.
"Nah," Moody shook his head. "If Dumbledore didn't even wanna talk to him than he probably won't talk to us. Now let's get something to eat." Lupin looked at both Moody and Tonks and cocked his head towards the darkened corner.
"What about him?" he asked.
"What about 'im? He's already eaten and we'll check on him later," Moody responded as he hobbled up the stairs after Tonks. Lupin put his hands into his pockets and followed after them. The stairs moaned under the weight of the three pairs of feet and the light bulb flickered at their departing. Harry heard the last grumbles of Mrs. Black as the door closed shut. He breathed a sigh of relief.
"Never going back," he smiled, standing up. Harry kicked over the towel pile and began to walk towards the stairs. As they creaked, the man in the corner grunted and shifted in his chair. He paused on the third step up and looked back down at the patch of illuminated floor. He hesitated and then curiosity got the best of him. Harry walked into the light. In the dark, he could make out two eyes staring back at him. They had a slightly sedated and menacing look; never taking their gaze off Harry.
Harry pulled out his wand, not intending to perform any spells, but incase the man broke loose from his bindings it would scare him off, and grabbed the chain that the light bulb hung from. He pulled the chain out as far as it would go and shone it on the man in the corner.
It was horrifying.
The man sat hunched over like a deformed, anorexic monkey. His skin was the faintest shade of gray and had a scaly, reptile look to it. He was so thin that Harry could make out the veins in his arms. Now that the light was better on the man, Harry also saw that his eyes were not green, hazel, blue, or brown, but in fact a mix between orange and yellow. The few strands of hair that sprouted from his head were matted and tangled. Where teeth were supposed to grow, there were pale yellow fangs. His fingers were long and bony and the nails looked bloody and infected. They had begun to curl due to the length and neglect of their hygiene. At his feet there was a puddle of what Harry thought to be bodily fluids.
"They're certainly not getting stronger," he breathed, shocked that in Sirius's house was a deteriorating Death Eater. "Not if they look like this." The man drew back his lips into a grimace and bared his teeth. Harry took a step back, but this startled the man. He straightened up in his chair and thrashed, almost tipping himself over. He then lowered his head and started to gnaw at the bindings that held him captive. Harry took another step back and gripped his wand even tighter. The light flickered and went out.
Harry yelled and Tonks's seagull began squawking uncontrollably. He ran towards the wall and began to search blindly for the stairs. He could still hear the Death Eater chewing on his straps as he felt his way towards the hand railing. Something wrapped around his leg. He fell to the floor with a thud. It was only the towels he had kicked over. Harry clutched the wrist that he had fallen on and listened hopelessly at the gnashing of teeth against the straps and the saliva that the man sucked back. As he scrambled to stand up, there was another tearing sound. The last binding had broken.
Harry heard the chair being tossed aside. It crashed into the wall with a splintering crack. Tonks's seagull took flight and fluttered around the room. He could hear the Death Eater overturning tables and thrashing around searching for Harry. The walls were moist to the touch as he clung to them. The man began to yell again, piercing the blackened basement air. He felt something make contact with the side of his face. Harry picked up what had been thrown. It felt like the chair leg. He crouched down and stuck his hand out, feeling for a sign of the wooden steps. And then the man stopped. His panting simmered down to that of a wheezing whistle.
"He's in here my Lord," the man said.
"Kill him," a second voice chimed in. "Kill him and eat him. I'm hungry."
"I can't see him!"
"Then find another way to get him!"
"How?"
"Sniff him out or something!" Harry backed into the corner of the room and held his wand close to his chest. He listened to the voices argue with each other about how to locate him. If I could only see the stairs! he thought angrily. He could picture the basement in his mind's eye, but the stairs seemed to have disappeared. It then occurred to him that using your wand as a light source wasn't considered underage magic.
"Lumos," he muttered into his chest. The tip of his wand lighted and he held it out in front of his face to see. The stairs were on the other side of the basement. The man was crouched down in the middle of the room with his back towards Harry. He held his head and twitched every time he changed voices. There was no second man.
"Behind you!" the second voice yelled suddenly, taking Harry by surprise. The man spun around and launched himself at Harry. His wand was knocked from his hand and rolled across the floor. The seagull cawed even louder. The strength of the Death Eater was underestimated by his feeble appearance. He kept Harry pinned down against the cold, damp ground. The Death Eater lowered his head in Harry's face and breathed putrid breath on him. His yellow-orange eyes crept upon his neck and Harry felt his skin burn underneath the stare. A drool string, thick and weighty with phlegm at the bottom, but stringy and thin as it ascended back to the man's lip, hung dangerously close to Harry's chin. Harry flailed and tried to push the man off him, but he wouldn't budge. He threw his hands down at his sides and scrambled them around in order to find something with enough mass to smack the Death Eater off him.
His hand brushed up against the blood vial.
Harry pulled it out of his pocket and brought his arms above the Death Eater's back. Then with all the strength that the Death Eater hadn't managed to strangle out of him, he drove it into his spine. The man began to convulse, his eyes bulging, the string of saliva plopped onto Harry's chin and tickled him as it dripped down his neck. He pushed the man of him and ran towards his wand. The seagull fluttered over to Harry and landed on his shoulder. It started nipping his ear, eventually biting it and pulling at it.
"Ow! Stop! Stop! Get off!" he yelled at it. Harry seized the seagull by the throat and yanked it off of him. He felt a warm, wet substance trickle down his ear. He bent down to grab his wand. His fingers brushed against the wood, but fell limp as a sharp, searing pain rippled through his back. Harry crashed to the ground and held one hand to his bleeding back. He looked up at the face that stood over him. The Death Eater also clutched his back with one hand, but he was smiling as he did so. He rolled over and kicked the Death Eater in the stomach, sending him tumbling into the towel pile. He then picked himself up, swaggered over, and collapsed on top of him. The man screamed, the seagull cried, and Harry growled.
He turned the man over and retrieved the vial out of his punctured skin. The point was covered by a thin, watery substance. It dripped down his hand and down his sleeve.
"Thanks Mum," he murmured before placing it back into his pocket. The room swayed with the rhythm of the pulsating pain in his back. Harry glanced down at the man's fingers. The nails were painted with Harry's own blood. Harry raised his fist behind his year, but the basement door opened and Tonks's silhouette appeared, interrupting Harry's punch.
"I'm right here you stupid bird! No use crying so much. Man it's dark in here. Lumos," she said. Harry paused, fist still raised above his ear.
"Tonks! He—he attacked me," he spluttered.
"Harry! What? He attacked—Remus! Mad-Eye! He attacked Harry!" Harry heard the peg-legged shuffle of Moody as he hurried to her side. Lupin showed up not a second later. They rushed down the stairs, muttering lumos into their own wands and pulled Harry off the twitching Death Eater.
"Harry," Lupin said in a calm, yet somewhat panicky voice. "Harry are you alright?"
"He attacked me. I—I had to stab him. He attacked me," Harry replied, shaking. "He stabbed me also. My back. . . ." Lupin scooped Harry up in his arms as best as he could and dragged him over to a chair covered by a dusty sheet. He pulled the sheet off and set him down gently.
"Where is your wand?" he asked. Harry pointed to where it lay, still lighted. Lupin went and retrieved it, placing it in Harry's limp hands, but it fell out and rolled into the middle of the basement. Harry caught one last glimpse of the Death Eater's raging eyes before he blacked out. The last he heard was Tonks and Moody pulling out their own wands.