The Aftermath
Chapter Four
More to the Story
Harry woke up the next morning to the sound of the owl post. It was only five in the morning, but the sun was already rising (A/N: it does! i woke up at 4:30 when I was there because of that sun!). Harry opened his window letting in the owl, who was carrying another Daily Prophet, and also letting in a refreshing morning breeze. He paid the owl and spent a few moments by the window watching it soar away before opening his paper.
Harry found an article on Azkaban. Aparently, Dementors were becoming too hard to manage and multitudes were disappearing. Prisoners were force-fed sleeping draughts to keep them subdued while the Department of Defense and the Department of Law Enforcement were contemplating alternate punishments that could be experimented with in the absence of Dementors.
Harry also found an article devoted to Lucius Malfoy. Upon his arrest in the Department of Mysteries, Ministry officials began checking more closely into the Malfoy affairs and found rather astonishing things. For years it seems that Malfoy has been simply a wealthy patron to many government operations - and just that. Now it has been discovered that he is also in practice of the Dark Arts. Many Dark Artifacts were discovered the the Malfoy Manor as well as a ledger that connected Malfoy to an artifact known to be responsible for seven near-deaths at Hogwarts a few years back. These artifacts have been confiscated and much of it destroyed. The manor is stil under search and Lucius Malfoy's wife, Narcissa, and their son, Draco, are currently living ina relative's home - the widow Araminta Meliflua. They wait to be able to return to their home which will be much more empty than it had been when they left . . . and that includes both the propertyconfiscated and the man who will not be returning anytime soon.The Wizenmagot finalized his sentence: twenty-five years tofifty in prison.
Harry scanned the rest of the paper but the only other interesting items he found were adds encouraging taking Curse Self-Defense Classes. At seven, Harry went down to breakfast.
Apparently, the wealthy couple had not seemed interested in investing in Uncle Vernon's company from the way that he was ranting and raving about them to Aunt Petunia.
"And they have terrible manners!" Uncle Vernon was saying as Harry walked in. "He didn't even laugh at my Japanese golfer joke! Racist! That's not being racist – it's called having a sense of humor!"
Harry rolled his eyes.
"Mrs. Wallace gave such a cold, glowering look when I gave her a compliment on her dress," commented Aunt Petunia.
There's a difference between a compliment and sucking up, Harry thought.
"And their niece – what kind of hairstyle is that?"
I thought it looked sort of nice, Harry said to himself.
"Really, it is shameful!"
Harry got tired of this conversation long before he was able to escape breakfast. When he was finally excused, he went up to his bedroom. He sat down to write another update letter to the Order saying he was doing okay, but just bored. He sent the letter with Hedwig and went off at noon to the park. When he got to the swings, he smiled at the sight he saw; there was Liz Cain, swaying backwards and forwards on the swing to the tune she was humming. Hesitating for one more moment, he grinned wider and said,
"I was going to sit there."
She stopped humming and swung around. "Too bad," she said. Today she was wearing a jean jacket, a jean skirt, and knee high navy blue suede boots tied with strings if brown leather. "But if you really want to sit down . . . " She made a quarter turn in her swing and kicked the one next to her. It wiggled on its chain and then started turning, untangling itself as it went.
Harry sat down in it, slightly surprised and a little impressed. "Thanks."
"No problem," Liz said smiling and turning her head away. Her hair was straighter and longer than the previous night and it had one thin braid to one said of her head tied with a small length of brown leather lacing that trailed over her shoulder and her hair seemed a bit more reddish than Harry had remembered and it was without highlights.
Slightly puzzled Harry contemplated what to say to her. He felt compelled to talk as she was sitting right next to him, but he didn't know exactly what to say. He was saved from this decision when she spoke.
"My cousin, Karen, still isn't sure whether or not you're a criminal boy," Liz said lightly as if it were as normal a statement as "Hi, how are you?"
"You can assure her that I'm not," Harry said wishing that he had picked the subject.
"I'm trying, but she has heard the you go to St. Brutus's School for Incurable Criminal Boys," she paused, then, "I didn't even know there was such a thing."
Harry shrugged. "Maybe there isn't." He didn't know why he was saying this, but seeing as how Uncle Vernon had this rumor well established, he didn't think it would matter if he denied it.
"Maybe, but if there wasn't, where do you go to school?"
"I didn't think you were this nosy when I met you," Harry said uncomfortably.
She laughed. "Define 'nosy' will you?"
Harry shrugged, grinning slightly. "Okay, I guess you weren't being that nosy."
They started swinging slightly. After a while, Harry commented, "It's nice that you have relatives to visit during the summer."
"Yeah," Liz said in a sort of strained voice. "I guess it is."
"It'd be great if I didn't have to stay with the Dursleys," Harry said. He waited for Liz to ask about his parents.
She didn't. "It probably would be nice. But then who could I hang out with while my cousins are busy with their numerous dancing, music, sport and whatever else they have as extra lessons?"
"Oh, I'm sure you'd think of something," Harry said. "But then who would I hang out with while my own revolting cousin is out terrorizing the neighborhood once you've gone back home?"
"Oh, I'm sure you'd think of something," Liz said.
"You chose a rather odd time to visit with your relatives," Harry said.
Liz frowned. "How so?"
"Well, they're just moving in," Harry said.
"I'm just moving in," Liz said.
"Moving in . . . ?"
"With them. I'm moving in with them. I'm going to be living there a while."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
Harry waited for an explanation. After a bit, he contemplated just asking, but he figured that if she wanted to explain, she would have already. So, he said, "You're going to be living there for . . . a while?"
Liz shrugged. "Yeah. I'm not exactly sure how long. I think only long enough to get settled. Then I'm off again."
Harry waited yet again for an explanation. None came. He decided to ask this time. "Off again?"
"Yup," Liz said, sighing. "It wouldn't be fair for me to . . . intrude too long on their hospitality in such a . . . crucial time . . . crucial time meaning adjusting to a new environment and stuff . . . and other . . . stuff. Yeah. I think I just confused myself. Anyway, I have to go someplace my parents picked out for me before . . . well, yeah . . . it's more suitable, I guess . . . safer . . . comfortable . . . I just confused myself again."
Harry frowned, puzzled, but he nodded and pretended to understand anyway. "Er . . . yeah . . . that's . . . uh huh."
Liz looked at him and laughed. "Sorry, it's complicated."
"Yeah. Yeah it is."
They swung a little higher.
"So," Harry said, as they passed one another. He was about to ask why she had to move in with her relatives in the first place.
She seemed to know this. This was impossible though. Maybe it was just a weird coincidence of timing. In any case, she said suddenly, "Bet I can beat you on the jump!" and then she practically flew off the swing, did a sort of Triple Lutz from the swing, and then, impossibly, landed on her feet.
"Whoa!" Harry said, skidding to a halt from his own leap beside her.
"It's a good thing these boots have sturdy heels – not like those idiotic stilettos. Honestly, who wears those? That sounded extremely shallow. Forget I said that."
Harry stared. Then he quickly shook his head. "Whatever. What was that?"
"No idea. But what I do know is that I haven't walked my dog, Kima, yet. And Kima gets cranky when she has to stay indoors for too long. And I might as well walk Togo, Kerrie and Shane's dog, too while I'm at it. I gotta go. See you around!" And with that she disappeared around the corner.
That was rather abrupt, Harry thought to himself. I was going to ask her something, wasn't I? Damn, I forgot.
Harry found himself on the lookout for her whenever he took a walk out.
The next time he saw Liz; it was one week later when she was walking a white Siberian husky and a gray and white Akita. She had headphones on which were attached to a portable CD player and he couldn't grab her attention.
But the strange thing was that he didn't really know why he wanted to talk to her.
- - -
Harry was walking around the neighborhood knowing that in possibly a day or two he'd be far away from this place. He figured he ought to say goodbye to the Wallace kids, and Liz Cain, but he didn't quite know how to go about it. He finally decided to just walk by their house. Harry heard them playing long before he could see them.
"Gotcha!" yelled Shane's voice as Harry peered behind a bush and into their yard.
Shane had just used a watergun to soak his sister.
"Oh, you've gone and made her mad," Liz said, clicking her tongue. She was sitting in a rocking chair on the porch with a t-shirt and shorts on and her hair up in a loose bun fastened with hair sticks. "Better watch yourself, Shane. Remember what happened next year?"
Shane seemed to have realized what Liz was talking about because he took off running. But Karen was too quick for him.
She had been sitting on the other side of the porch and she had stashed a bin of water balloons under her chair and she got her little brother right in the back of his head.
"Guess again, squirt," she said matter-of-factly, although Harry could see a little smile forming on her face.
"Good arm," he said, stepping out from behind the bush.
"Yeah," Shane said, rubbing the back of his head, "but because she's my sister, that's not a good thing."
"Hey Harry," Liz said lazily. "Kinda hot for a walk isn't it?"
"Nah, I'm all right," Harry answered.
At that moment, a car pulled into the driveway - a Rolls Royce. Mr. Wallace, a man in his mid-forties or a little younger,stepped out wearing a navy blue suit with a light blue shirt and loosened tie. He had blue eyes andwavy brown hair that wasbeginning to gray. His shoulders were broad and looked as if he could have been a professional rugby player . . .if he hadn'tbeen wearing a suit that is. There were wrinkles around his mouth andeyes that suggested that he laughed often. He walked briskly, and was unbuttoning his collar as he went as if the suit and tie deal was only something he tolerated.Shane automatically ran for him and the girls stood up grinning.
"Whoa kiddo!" Mr. Wallace said, laughing. "Do the math - you're wet and sweaty and I'm in a suit."
"Oh, yeah, sorry dad!" Shane said, screeching to a halt. "Wanna play though?"
"Just give me a minute to get changed and I'll show you the real way to handle that watergun," Mr. Wallace said, ruffling Shane's wet hair. Then he saw Harry. "Hi there!" he said waving.
"That's Harry Potter, Dad," Kerrie said. "He lives over on Privet Drive."
"Well that's great," Mr. Wallace said cheerfully. "Would you like to come in, get a drink or something? It's kind of hot out." When Harry hesitated, Mr. Wallace said, "Don't be a stranger young man - we wouldn't be doing our civil duty if we just left you out here and condemned you to heat stroke."
"O . . . kay," Harry said. "That'd be nice."
"Great."
Mrs. Wallace appeared just as they all were trudging indoors. She was wearing a gray knee length skirt and a pink and white pinstriped shirt with the sleeves rolled up. She had straight blond hair with hazel eyes that were thoughtful and kind. They brightened warmly as she surveyed them all."There's ice cream in the freezer kids. We can make some milkshakes. Are you the Potter boy I heard about? The one who lives with the Dursleys?"
"Yes ma'am," Harry replied.
"Nice to meet you, then," she said smiling. "Hello dear," she said, kissing her husband. "You're home a little early. Were you able to get out of that meeting?"
"Yup, I told the partners that I had to take my son to the dentist," he answered. "That reminds me, we'll have to find a new dentist. We can't go to the Granger's anymore. I'll have to call them . . ." he said, but most of this speech was drowned out to Harry, Liz, Karen, and Shane as they were using the blender to mix the ice cream and milk.
And Harry spent the rest of the afternoon in a waterfight that included all of the Wallaces. Mr. Wallace changed into a pair of swimming trunks and a t-shirt and brought out a turbo-blaster. Mrs. Wallace prefferred the pressure water pump, Harry, Liz, and Kerrie stuck to water balloons, and Shane had all of these weapons in his arsenal.
Afterwards, Mrs. Wallace found Harry a pair of mock army pants and a Quicksilver t-shirt to replace his wet clothes. They were given to Shane by a senile grandmother who seemed to think Shane was fifteen instead of eleven. The clothes fit Harry fine and Liz found Harry a jacket, to keep out the cold of the falling night.
All in all, the family seemed perfectly happy . . . but then Harry came back from the bathroom and overheard Liz and Karen talking in Liz's bedroom.
"You seem to be handling this all pretty well, Lizzy," Karen was saying.
"You sound suspicious."
"Suspicious? That's silly. But really, you're parents - they just - "
"Do we have to talk about this now? I'm kinda tired, Kerrie."
"Okay, but if you ever need to - "
"I'm serious, Karen," Liz said. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Fine then."
Harry moved quickly down the hall to avoid being seen by Karen as she stormed out of Liz's room.
What was all that about? he thought.
He said his goodbyes and headed back to Number 4 wondering why, even if the Liz and Karen's families had their problems, the Dursley's couldn't be more like them.