Chapter 17 Good-bye, Aunt Marge

Harry's workouts during his birthday were tinged with sadness, as he realized that there was a very substantial chance he would never be back to these places again. No matter what happened during the school year, he was reasonably sure he would be moving on afterward – if there was to be an afterward for him. And that thought as well was difficult, as he had really given so little thought in the past couple of years to doing something after school. Even when he had career counseling in fifth year, his notion to become an auror was mostly just something to say, just as when he was five and said he would become a fireman. Fighting had never given him pleasure, not the way playing quidditch or coaching the DA had.

In the late afternoon after his other workouts were over, Harry decided that he would go for a walk around Little Whinging so he could see all the places he remembered from growing up. He had horrible memories and some which weren't really so bad after all. He wanted to make peace with his memories, both good and bad. He made a point of taking his wands and his mirror with him, just in case.

When he returned, Marge too seemed to sense the passing of an era – she would no longer have the chance to bully Harry Potter. As he came in the door, she confronted him. "So there you are, skulking about, vandalizing the neighborhood, no doubt, without even the decency to help your poor Aunt Petunia about the house, though she has provided meals and a roof for you all these years!"

"I know you heard me ask her if there was anything she would like done before I left, Aunt Marge," replied Harry tiredly.

"Don't you take that tone with me! They might put up with it, but you'll not talk to me that way. You need to learn to talk proper to your betters," she went on.

"I'll keep that in mind when I'm speaking with my betters," Harry said quietly.

"What? You scurrilous low-life!" Marge then turned to her bulldog. "Ripper! Sic him!"

Ripper continued to sleep at the foot of the stairs, where he had parked himself most of July.

Harry shook his head with resigned pity for her, and then turned to step over Ripper and go to his room. Marge spied the mirror and snatched it out of his waistband.

"Where'd you steal this from? – looks like an antique."

"Give that back, Marge," Harry said low and stern.

"AUNT Marge to you, buster, and I asked you a question."

"It's mine. My godfather gave it to me two Christmases ago."

"Liar! Now answer me before I call the bobbies – where'd you steal this from?"

"It's mine," he said with a growl.

By now, Aunt Petunia had heard the dispute and was coming out from the kitchen.

"Oh, yeah, then why do you carry it?" said Marge.

"I use it," said Harry.

"Liar! I see that hair! You haven't used a mirror to do anything with that in years."

"It's mine – GIVE IT BACK!" Harry roared.

Marge flung the mirror toward the fireplace.

"ACCIO MIRROR," yelled Harry quickly, and the mirror flew to his hand.

Marge stared in amazement, then peered suspiciously at him. "How'd you do that?"

"I reached for the mirror and grabbed it."

"No, I mean making it come to your hand so that you could grab it?"

"You're mistaken," said Harry. "I've just got quick reflexes. I jumped over and grabbed it."

"Liar! I saw that mirror change course in mid-air."

"Of course, I grabbed it and it changed course when I had hold of it. You just missed it because you weren't expecting someone to have such quick reflexes."

"That's what I saw, Marge," added Petunia. "You have to figure that a boy his size who can last in boxing with Dudley has to have developed good reflexes."

"Exactly," said Harry.

"Harry," said Petunia, "I've got the rest of your clothes cleaned for going back to your boot camp. Take them upstairs and we'll fold them together."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," replied Harry. He went through the kitchen to the laundry room and grabbed the stack of dried clothes there. He carried them upstairs, with Petunia close by him to keep Marge from doing anything further. When they got upstairs, she closed the door.

"Harry, you did that without a wand! How long have you been doing that?" she asked incredulously.

"Oh, for a long time. Like, erm – the last time Aunt Marge visited," replied Harry.

"Yes, but that was just you losing your temper. This was controlled. I know from your mother that that is usually very limited. She did very little without her wand."

"It's been getting better over the past couple of years. I've worked at it. I never know when I might be without my wand."

Just then they heard Vernon and Dudley coming in the front door. Marge squabbled at them about the mirror, but Vernon shrugged it all off. As Harry turned to pick up another shirt to fold, he saw Hedwig fly up to his window and, finding it closed, wheeling around to find another means to get to her master and her cage.

"Oh, no," said Harry. "I meant to tell her to stay with my friends."

Hedwig found entrance through the parlor window and flew right past Marge, grazing her hair.

"AND THAT'S ANOTHER THING!" roared Marge, pounding up the stairs and bursting into Harry's room, as Hedwig took her perch. "No decent person keeps an owl as a pet. Only a freak would keep a creepy night creature like that as a pet. You'll never become a decent person keeping a creature of the night, boy!"

Marge then shoved Harry backward and he fell on his bed. Marge opened the window with her left hand, while grabbing Hedwig about the neck with the right. She threw Hedwig violently out the window, yelling "Go, bird, return to the forest where you belong!"

Hedwig had other ideas and after ruffling her feathers in flight a couple of times, she soared back toward her home and the boy she loved. Marge made to grab her again, but her wrists were suddenly grabbed by slender hands with a very firm grip.

"NO!" shouted Petunia, wrenching Marge's hands back away from Hedwig. "YOU'LL KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF OTHER PEOPLE'S PETS AND THINGS. HARRY LIVES HERE AND HIS THINGS WILL NOT BE DISTURBED! AND THE OWL HAS BEEN A LOVELY GUEST HERE – ALWAYS CLEAN – UNLIKE A CERTAIN SMELLY INCONTINENT BEAST YOU INSIST ON IMPOSING ON THIS HOUSE!"

"PETUNIA!" yelled Marge, "HOW DARE YOU MOLEST ME! AND HOW CAN YOU BE SO IRRESPONSIBLE AS TO CODDLE THAT BOY IN HIS WEIRDNESS? IT NEEDS TO BE STOMPED RIGHT OUT OF HIM!"

"I'LL TAKE HIS WAYS OVER YOURS ANY DAY, MARGE. JUST LEAVE HIM ALONE!"

Just then Dudley called from downstairs. "Mum! Ripper's just soiled the carpet again!"

Petunia's eyes blazed, as she made for the door. "We'll eliminate that problem once and for all!"

"No, you won't, Petunia," yelled Marge, shoving her sister-in-law against the wardrobe as she ran to get to Ripper first.

Petunia was close on Marge's heels and as Marge got to the head of the stairs, Petunia's anger got the better of her and she gave Marge an enormous shove, sending her flying headfirst down the stairs, clearing them all as her face headed directly for the floor, as well as the enormous mound of moist steaming excrement Ripper had left.

"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA" shouted Harry from the top of the stairs, wand drawn, stopping Marge no more than an inch from colliding with the floor. Her legs were waving in the air like a hydra's tentacles, and her skirt flew down around her torso, disturbed only by her flailing arms. She was screaming incomprehensibly.

Petunia put her hand on Harry's shoulder. "Thanks, Harry. I don't know what came over me. I didn't want to hurt her. I wouldn't even have hurt Ripper."

"Glad to do it, Aunt Petunia. I know you didn't want to injure her. That was really brilliant the way you told her off upstairs. I hope you understand that I'll have to get a wizard in here to modify her memory. I'd do it myself, but I may be a bit clumsy with it yet. I don't want to do any damage."

Harry called Remus on the mirror while Petunia went down to explain the need to Vernon and Dudley.

"Harry, another attack?" asked Remus. Harry noted how bedraggled Remus looked from the werewolf transformation and the wolfsbane potion he must have taken.

"Not the kind you're thinking. I had to use magic on my aunt and we need a Ministry Wizard to come and clear her memory of the incident."

"Harry, did you lose your temper with her again? I thought you were working on that."

"No, that's not it, Remus. She was falling down the stairs and I stopped her before she hit the floor. See!" Harry turned the mirror so that Remus could see the scene.

"Aarooo!" howled Remus painfully and then began laughing. "Don't ever show anyone anything like that without a proper warning, Harry. I might have gone blind. You know you don't have to leave her like that – no wonder she's screaming."

"Well, that," said Harry with an impish smile, "and the fact that I stopped her face one inch from the floor, but there were two inches of dog poo on the floor. She has her nose sticking in it and she can't move her head without smearing it all over herself."

"Harry!" scolded Remus, but with his own tone of amusement.

"Oh, alright, then," said Harry, and with a wave of his hand, she rose higher, and with another wave she was turned rightside up. Harry took out a wand and pointed it at her face and said "Scourgify," and the mess on it was removed. As she was still screaming, he then said "Silencio," which allowed her to go through all the efforts of screaming, but without sound. Then he pointed at the mess on the floor and said "Scourgify," and the mess there was completely eliminated.

Petunia knelt down where the mess was and examined it closely. "Oh, Harry, it's like new." She had tears in her eyes, as she gazed up the stairs toward him. "Could you possibly do the other areas where Ripper made a mess?"

Harry looked in the mirror to Remus. "Can I?"

Remus shrugged. "You're an adult now, big fella: do it if you want. I'll be going now. I'll send a memory specialist immediately. Happy birthday, Harry!"

"Thanks, Remus. I'll see you first thing in the morning, if I don't have to call sooner."

Harry went about the downstairs with Aunt Petunia, scourgifying all the spots she could find, a number of which Harry knew could not be blamed on the dog, but he didn't care. While he was doing this, the memory wizard arrived and modified Marge's memory. She went into a very deep sleep.

"That'll last a couple of hours or so. Nothing to worry about. It's a big stress to have your memory modified."

"Thanks," said Harry and the Dursleys, just before the wizard disapparated.

"So, Harry, "said Vernon nervously, "I thought your kind had rules against a youngster doing magic like this."

"Oh, yes, we do, but I'm not underage now. The law applies to those under 17."

Vernon blanched. "I have feared this day, Potter. I thought the age might be 18. I just didn't know. I'm afraid we treated you very poorly for quite some time. I'm sure you have wanted to settle things once and for all for a long time. I know we can't stop you, so go ahead and do what you have a mind to."

Harry still had a wand out. He approached Vernon with a crafty look on his face.

"Yes, indeed," he said, "you have been quite beastly at times."

Then he threw his arms as far as he could around Vernon. "But I couldn't harm you. All is forgiven. I know it was your fear of magic making you act that way. I'm just so glad these past two summers have been so much better."

Then Harry hugged his aunt. Dudley wouldn't let him hug, so they shoved each other playfully.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'll miss you all very much."

"Don't go, Harry," said Petunia. "Don't go. You're safe here. Wait out the war. Something will happen to bring it to an end, and then you can return to that world."

Harry closed his eyes. "I cannot tell you how tempting that is. But right now I don't need that temptation. I couldn't live with myself if I left the battle to others, especially as I've been asked to help them prepare to meet Voldemort's supporters. It would be as shameful and wrong of me to turn my back on them as anything could be. And besides, the war won't just blow over. Voldemort believes I am his primary threat, and I've realized that this is so. Eventually the war would find its way here, and the sanctity of this home would be no more. Among my friends I have allies, who will help me stand up against him. I must get back to them."

Harry went upstairs and packed his things. He made sure Hedwig was okay, which she was, except for a few broken feathers which he carefully trimmed. The sun was going down, so he told her she could go get some dinner while he ate with his family. Then he stroked her before launching her out the window. He went downstairs and had dinner with the Dursleys, with much of laughter and tears.

When they were done, he cleaned the kitchen magically. Petunia was thrilled, but she still had that look she always got when the place was not quite clean enough. Then he went upstairs to gather all his things and return to Longbottom Manor. Marge was waking. He looked at her and realized he no longer felt the animosity that used to roil him.

"Good-bye, Aunt Marge," he said, and then he went up the stairs, laid hold of his things and Hedwig's cage, with Hedwig in it again, and returned to training camp.