Disclaimer: OK. . . I don't own Harry Potter or any of JKR's other characters. Blah blah blah. . . or her plot. . . yadda yadda yadda ok. .. you get the point. . .
Author's Note: OK. . . this is finally out. . .. I already have the next few chapters written but I haven't had any time to type them. . . cough cough school cough cough So puh-lease bear with me. . .
Harry went back to the Dursleys' the day after Bill and Fleur's wedding. Everything in Number 4 Privet Drive was just as he left it: practically perfect in everyway. Harry had gotten used to that; he didn't need his uncle getting anger with him. He shuddered at the thought. I should clean everything once more. . . just to be safe, he decided, thinking of the consequences of one little spec of dirt on the carpet. Therefore, Harry spent the rest of Monday scrubbing everything imaginable in the kitchen. .. . the Muggle way. When Harry finally finished, it was very late. He dragged himself upstairs to his room and fell asleep before he even put on his pajamas.
Tuesday was spent in a similar fashion. Harry cleaned every other room downstairs and even the upstairs bathroom. On Wednesday, he did all of the yard work and even some laundry. It wasn't until Thursday – the day of the Dursleys' return – that he decided he would clean his relatives' rooms. . . just to be safe. Harry quickly fixed up Dudley's room. While he was vacuuming his aunt and uncle's bedroom, he heard the door open and slam shut. Harry knew that the Dursleys had just returned from France so he hurriedly finished tidying up in their bedroom before heading downstairs. The Dursleys all seemed to be in a good mood, but Harry didn't want to chance changing that. He slipped into the kitchen and began to make dinner. Just as he was done, Harry heard Aunt Petunia scream upstairs.
"POTTER!" Uncle Vernon yelled as he pounded down the stairs.
Oh, shit. What did I do now? Harry asked himself, looking around for something to defend himself with.
"POTTER!" his uncle huffed in the kitchen doorway.
"Yes, Uncle Vernon?" the said boy replied.
"Were you the one who was in my room?" he asked angrily.
"Well, you asked me to keep the house clean so I thought that that meant your bedroom, too," Harry replied honestly.
"Don't talk to me like that!" Uncle Vernon slapped Harry's face.
"Vernon! He was in Dudder's room too!" Aunt Petunia's shrill voice exclaimed from upstairs.
His uncle's face turned crimson. Realizing that he was in a lot of trouble, Harry half pleaded, "But I was cleaning! I didn't do anything wrong!" Unfortunately, Uncle Vernon didn't listen to his pleas, as Harry expected. Instead, he wrapped his sausage-like fingers around Harry's neck and pushed him into his cupboard under the stairs. He heard the clicking of locks and Uncle Vernon saying, "And you will stay in there until tomorrow! You're lucky I'm in a good mood, or it would be longer, you bloody little trespasser!" With that, the vent was closed, and Harry was left in complete darkness.
Elly Dalia was sitting at work. She glanced at her watch; 12:40-something. She swore as her phone rang. She sighed as she listened to the call. "Yes, Amelia, I'll be there," she said reluctantly. Dammit, she thought, now I have a meeting on Phoenix's birthday tomorrow! She turned around on her leather swivel chair and looked out at the New York skyline. I should probably go soon. . . She turned back toward her expansive office. She glanced at her watch again; it just changed to 1 o'clock p.m. Elly stood up, straightened up the papers on her desk, and packed her briefcase. She walked out of her office and said to the secretary, "I'll be off the rest of the day. Have them call me on my cell if they need anything."
"Yes, Ms. Dalia," the young secretary replied.
Elly walked out of her international real estate company, Dalia Incorporated. As she was walking, she was thinking of all the extra time she was going to have to put in on Saturday. Then, she walked down a deserted ally and Disapparated.
Harry woke up sore on Friday morning. The sorry excuse for a bed that he slept on made his back ache and was too small. As he sat there, he wondered what kind of mood his uncle was in today. Harry was sitting for a long time before it dawned on him: He's not coming. Harry just remembered that it was Friday, and Uncle Vernon would be back at work. He doubted Aunt Petunia or Dudley would let him out. So what now? He asked himself. I guess I'll just have to wait, he answered himself after a while.
Harry wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but he awoke to the door opening. In the blinding light, Harry could just make out Uncle Vernon's features. He grabbed Harry by his shirt collar and yanked him into the hall. Now that his eyes adjusted to the light, Harry could see that his uncle wasn't in a good mood. "Clean yourself up, and make us dinner," Harry's uncle ordered.
Harry quickly followed the said orders. After relieving himself Harry scrambled to make dinner.
While the Dursleys ate, Harry smuggled some food up to his bedroom. During this time, he heard the doorbell ring and Dudley's lumbering footsteps going to answer it.
Dudley tottered to the front door. He opened it to reveal a middle aged red haired woman standing in the doorway. She wore a business suit and held a briefcase. "Dad. . . I think it's for you!" Dudley yelled while still looking at the woman's piercing blue eyes; something about those eyes made him feel uncomfortable.
Just then Uncle Vernon lumbered to the door. Great, a bloody peddler! he thought. "We don't want any!" he exclaimed as he slammed the door. With lightning reflexes, the woman shoved her foot in the doorway so the door stayed partially opened.
"I'm not selling anything," she said as she pushed the door back open. "This is the Dursleys' residence, correct?"
Vernon nodded confusedly. "Um. . . who exactly are you?"
"The name's Elizabeth Dalia," The woman said in a business-like manner as she offered her hand. When Vernon didn't take it, she raised her eyebrows and lowered it.
Petunia walked over from the kitchen about the same time as this happened saying, "Vernon, is there a problem?"
"Well. . . Petunia. . ." Vernon stammered as Elizabeth Dalia let herself in and said, "I would feel much more comfortable if we spoke in the living room." With that, she walked into the living room and sat down cross legged on a chair. She smirked as Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley sat awestruck on a couch.
It was quiet for a moment. Then Petunia asked, "Who are you?"
"As I already explained, I am Elizabeth Dalia," she smirked.
Petunia's expression turned from confused to dark at the sound of that name. "You're one of them," she spat.
"One of whom?" Elizabeth asked innocently.
"One of her friends, one of those freaks!" Petunia said angrily. The atmosphere changed suddenly. The air was full of tension.
"What do you mean by 'freaks'? Oooooh! You mean that I'm a 'freak' because I am a witch. . ." Elly said casually.
"Why are you here?" Vernon asked viciously.
"Oh yes!" Elly acted as if the light bulb just went on. "I'm here about your nephew!"
"Figures," Petunia huffed. "Everything is about him."
Elly nodded in agreement. "It is. You see, he needs to be protected with Dumbledore dead and all. . ."
"Wait!" Vernon exclaimed somewhat excitedly. "That old crackpot is dead! Petunia! That means we don't need that freak of a nephew living with us anymore!"
Elly said, "First off, Albus Dumbledore was not a crackpot. And secondly, that is why I am here. I figured that you would not want him in your house once you heard the news and would kick him out. So here I am, here to take him off your sausage like hands."
"You can have the. . . Did you just insult me?" Vernon exclaimed.
"Oh, I am so terribly sorry. I didn't mean that your hands were like sausages; I meant your fingers are like them. . . I had no intention on insulting you. It's just that sometimes the truth hurts," Elly said matter-of-factly.
"WHY YOU!" Vernon yelled ferociously.
"Now if you would show me to Harry's room. . ." Elly trailed as she stood up and headed toward the stairs.
Harry was amazed by the scene that he saw taking place. Not even a moment ago did he creep down the stairs to get a peek at who was causing all the ruckus. Now, Elly walked over to the stairs. She didn't even seem the least bit worried that his infuriated quarter ton uncle was stalking behind her. Upon seeing Harry, she smiled and said, "Oh hello there, Harry! Your Uncle Vermin was just going to show me to your room."
Harry just gaped at her while his bellowed, "IT'S VERNON!"
"What's that, Vermin? You're going to speak louder and clearer next time. . . You must not be a great public speaker," Elly said happily. "And Harry, first, close up your mouth; we don't need you to be looking like—what's your cousin's name? Oh yes, Dungley. We don't need you gaping at people like Dungley does. Now go up to your room and pack everything. I doubt you'll ever be returning to this house."
It took Harry a moment to get over the shock of someone so casually and boldly insulting the Muggle he feared the most. He scrambled up the stairs into his room, being sure to leave the door open so he could hear what was going on downstairs. As Harry was packing every belonging he possibly could, he heard his aunt yell in a shrill voice, "How dare you insult my family, you FREAK!" Just as she screamed this, Elly exclaimed, "Oh my gosh! A button! It must have popped off your shirt, Vermin, when you were swelling three times your size!" Then Harry heard the shattering of glass as he was leaving his room for the last time. When he was coming down the stairs, Harry saw Elly hand his uncle Vernon a button. Then she turned around and exclaimed, "Oh my good golly gosh! Petunia, you vase is broken! Would you like me to fix it? No? Are you sure? You don't even want me to help clean it? Okay then. . . Oh, Harry! You're here! You've got everything? Your wand? Toothbrush? Books? Owl? Pictures? Key to your Gringott's account? Clothes? Maybe we'll just buy you new ones. . . Those are Dungley's old clothes? Figures. Anyway, say good-bye to your family, Harry!" Elly took out her wand and levitated Harry's trunk.
Harry and Elly said together, "Good-bye, Vermin, Petunia, and Dungley!" Then Harry left Number 4 Privet Drive for the last time.
Not even five minutes later, Harry was walking next to Elly up a long curving road.
"Sorry, Harry. Phoenix stole the car," Elly said while they were walking. "But a little exercise never killed anyone, right?"
"Er. . . right," Harry replied still a little shocked by finally being free of the Dursleys. "Uh. . . Elly. . . where does this road lead?"
Elly gave him a confused look before laughing, "Ooooh! This isn't a road, Harry. It's just a driveway that is too long for its own good!"
"A driveway?" Harry asked and Elly nodded. "And this driveway leads. . ."
"To one of our houses," Elly answered simply.
They walked on in silence for a little while. Then Harry saw the house on the horizon and froze. He could feel his eyes widening. The house was humongous! The front of the house was made up bluish-gray stones that looked like jagged bricks. There were four massive three story columns formed a wide half circle around the front door. The wide front porch was in the shape of a half circle and supported the bases of the columns. It was made of a grayish concrete and had a step leading up to it. To the right of the entrance way, a large two-story section jutted out from the rest of the house. Elly led Harry past the attached garage on the left of the house toward the front door. As Elly unlocked the double doors, Harry stared up at the expansive space above him. The four columns supported a roofed overhang at least three stories above him. Elly was then standing next to him, looking up as well.
"Erin always loved using height in her designs. She loved drawing your eyes up. Then she would reward your curiosity with another odd design," Elly said. Elly looked at the illuminated stain glass picture that was on the overhang. It showed robin and a cardinal circling in a patch of blue sky surrounded by the green leaves of trees. It made you feel as if the columns were the trees, and you were the one standing in the forest looking at the two birds flying to freedom.
At seeing Harry's questioning look, Elly said, "Once upon a time, I had a sister that was two years younger than me named Erin. She was an interior designer and artist. This house was a present for when she passed her designer finals. I treated her like she was my customer; we designed this house together. I build the house and made the layout while she did all the interior designs. Each room has a theme. You'll understand what I mean when Phoenix gives the tour later. Now if you'll follow me. . ."
Elly swung the double doors open to reveal an extravagant room. "The Colonial-Slash-Victorian Entrance-Slash-Living Room," Elly laughed.
Harry stared dumbfounded for a long moment. Upon entering the room, he felt like he just used a Time Turner to take him back to that day and age.
Elly snapped him out of his shocked stage by saying, "Like I said, she was amazing at what she did. She made soooo much money from what she liked and did best."
Harry nodded as he heard the sound of the car engine. "I bet you two had something to with this!" he heard someone yell.
"Oh, come on, Phoenix. Would we really do that to you?" someone asked.
"Quite frankly, yes," Phoenix said as she walked in through the door. "You are sooo lucky that I can't use magic in front of Muggles."
"Well, Phoenix," Fred said, following her in through the doors, "you can't you magic at all. . ."
Fred's twin, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny came in next.
Harry tried not to laugh at this sight. Phoenix was sopping wet: her hair was dripping, her body was streaked with water, and her clothes clung to her body. She didn't look very happy. Ginny, too, was wet, but she was no where near as wet as Phoenix.
"What happened?" Elly asked, trying to hide her amusement.
"Okay, so we were at the mall, right?" Phoenix began. "Ginny and I were wearing white shirts. As we were walking past a toy store, some two obnoxious nineteen year old worker guys had water guns and attacked us!"
"Should we be taking offense? 'Two obnoxious nineteen year old guys?' You know, we didn't have any water guns and no affiliation with them," George said.
"And it's your own fault. If you didn't wear a white shirt while walking past blokes with water guns. . . and the way you reacted. . ." Fred smiled.
"Well you didn't do anything to stop them!" Phoenix protested.
"Well. . . it was quite entertaining until you almost killed the poor Muggles," Fred smirked.
"Jerk," Phoenix said as she threw her drenched white shirt at him, "you're lucky Ginny and I had camis on underneath."
"Well, Ginny doesn't really care. How come you're making such a big deal, Phoenix?" Ron asked.
"Sadly, Ron, Phoenix has something called hydrophobia," Fred said seriously.
"I so totally do not!" Phoenix protested.
"What's hydrophobia?" Ron asked.
"The fear of water," Hermione answered.
Phoenix continued to protest. "I just despise water with a passion. . . I don't fear it."
"Save this argument for another time, kids," Elly said holding her arms up between them all. "Phoenix, you need to take them on the tour of the house."
"Fine," Phoenix sighed. "Leave all of your stuff here and follow me. . ." She was about to lead them all away when Elly said, "Oh, and Fred n George, could you promise me something?"
"Yes, Elly?" "Anything, Elly."
"Don't cause and trouble. . ."
"Right-o," they answered together.
"Or else you get vetoed from the house," Elly finished her warning.
"Don't worry, Elly—" "We'll behave," the twins said innocently.
"That's what I'm afraid of. . ." Elly sighed.
"Okay. . . enough of that. . ." Phoenix said, and she began the tour.