The Dursleys Decontaminated
The Three Broomsticks wasn't hard to find, bring that it was well known, and on the main street of Hogsmeade: High St. Lupin paid the guest rate for using Madam Rosemerta's Floo: five Sickles. More comments about how he wasn't from around here. Being that Hogsmeade was a small village, new-comers tended to stand out. He also stood out since he was still wearing normie clothes, and very few residents did that.
He threw a pinch of the powder into the fire: "London: Leaky Cauldron". He stepped into the emerald green flames and was swept into the main barroom. No one really paid attention since people used the Leaky Cauldron all the time for transportation, and because it was the main entrance to Diagon Alley. Lupin stepped to the bar and waited until Old Tom got to him.
"Kinigetcha?", he asked as he wiped down a glass with an old, battleship gray, rag.
"Looking to rent a room".
"We have rooms available, how long were you staying?"
"I'm not sure, a week, maybe?"
Old Tom named the price, and called for a barmaid to show him to his room after getting a key in exchange for a week's rent. He went up, and took a small box from a pocket. A wave of his wand, and the small box returned to its original size: a trunk with changes of clothes and other essentials. His room had an over view of Diagon Alley. The room itself was nice, the sheets and furniture spotless, the window open to let in fresh breezes. Unforch, it wasn't air conditioned. Apparently Magical Britain hadn't mastered that sort of muggle tech. Since it was going to be awhile, Ted decided to explore Diagon Alley and see what it had to offer. He slipped his old Ilvermorny robe, with the crest of the Horned Serpent (Ilvermorny's House for scholars and intellectuals) over the breast, over his civvies.
He dined at a bistro, bought a Daily Prophet. Not much of interest, other than an announcement that a Ministry employee, Arthur Weasley, had won 1000 Galleons in a sweepstakes the Prophet sponsored. Arthur said he was going to use the winnings to take his family on a trip to Egypt. He stopped by the library to catch up with current events.
At 8:30, he hailed the Knight Bus to Privet Drive, Little Whinging. He knew the wards surrounding 4 Privet Dr were intentional, and as he had no intention to do Harry or his step family any harm, this wouldn't be a problem. There was a brief tingle as he crossed the wards.
A little after 9:00, he rang the bell. A heavy set man with almost no neck, but a fabulous mustache, answered the door.
"You must be Mr Dursley", Ted greeted.
"And just who are you and why are you calling at this hour?", he asked, voice filled with suspicion.
"I'm looking for Harry Potter", Ted introduced.
Vernon Dursley called out: "Boy! Get down here this instant!"
"Coming!", he called out, dropped what he was doing to go downstairs. When Vernon called, Harry knew he'd best come at once. Harry looked on with a quizzical expression. Before he could ask, Vernon exploded.
"What have I told you about giving out this address to those freaks of yours?!"
Petunia was coming from the kitchen, while Dudley was stuffing himself in front of the TV.
"I think you'd better leave", Vernon threatened.
"I don't think so", Lupin said as he forced the door open.
"Tunie! Call the…"
Ted fired off three Stunners and an Incarcerous is as many seconds.
"Are you…", Harry started.
"No, Harry, I'm not a Death Eater or have anything to do with them, if that's what's concerning you. Open your ears and eyes, and shut your yap", Lupin told him. "Watch and learn".
Then he did something with his wand, first Vernon, then Petunia, and finally Dudley.
"What did…"
"A spell to detect and neutralize compulsions".
He cast the Renervate spell to undo the effects of the stunning spell.
"Just lay quietly. It'll pass in a minute or two".
"What… did… you do to us?", Vernon asked. He could tell something was different, but couldn't put his finger on it.
He cast the Finite Incantum to release Harry.
"What I did, was to release you from the compulsions that forced you to make your step son's life here a living hell", Lupin explained. "Mrs Dursley? When Harry came to live with you, was there, perhaps, a letter?"
"Yes, there was a note. It was in the basket with Harry after someone just dumped him on our doorstep. In November: no idea who would leave a baby out in the open for who knows how long".
"Would you happen to still have it, and may I see it?"
"I'll get it".
"No, just show me. If you touch it, you'll just pick up the compulsions again".
Petunia led the way to a table with a shallow drawer that stood in the hallway. She opened the drawer, and Ted levitated the letter to the table between the couch and TV.
"Watch and learn", as Ted cast a Revelio.
"What are those green spots?", Vernon asked as these appeared, as if invisible ink was being lit up by UV from his wand.
"Those are compulsions, or more accurately, the magical signature of compulsions. When you handled this letter, they passed to you, your wife, and to Dudley. This is the reason behind your treatment of Harry ever since that day he arrived".
"My God", Petunia gasped, "what have we done?"
Vernon was on the edge of another outburst, Harry could see the throbbing on his neck, and he was turning purple. He'd seen that often enough, but this time, Harry wasn't the cause.
"Who would do such a thing?! Why would anyone do such a thing?!", he roared.
"Yeah", Harry agreed, "who?"
"Harry, you're an intelligent young man. You can figure it out, if you haven't already. It's not a question of can you figure it out, but a question of whether you can accept the answer".
"Harry?", Petunia asked.
"I… I… I'll have to think about it", he said.
"I think that's enough for you to absorb for one night", Lupin announced. "Harry, I have a homework assignment for you. Tomorrow, owl the Ministry of Magick to request a visitor's pass. Say that you are coming to collect a prophecy made about you that's in the Hall of Prophecies. You should receive a PIN that you will enter at a certain call box. When you arrive at the Ministry, simply tell security that you're there to collect your prophecy. I will explain more after you've heard it, it should make some things clearer.
"When you meet the Unspeakables, be sure to mention that you don't want anyone's knowing you took the prophecy, or that you visited the Ministry. That shouldn't be a hard request to grant, as it's a matter of privacy".
"I don't know where that is", Harry objected.
"It's right here in London", Lupin pulled out a note. "Here's the address: it's beneath an abandoned warehouse. You gain access via a call box that's on the corner of an intersection. There's an abandoned theatre right across the street. I will check back in two days. Once you've heard your prophecy, I will be able to explain more".
He got up to leave: "I've given you enough to think about for one evening".
"I didn't catch your name?", Harry said.
"Let's just say I go by Tom Enigma for now", with that, he continued into the night.
"Harry, we need to talk", Vernon said as he led the way to the kitchen table.
"I…", Vernon started, "… 'I'm sorry' seems so inadequate…"
"Uncle Vernon…"
"No, just let me say it", Vernon interrupted. "I know 'I'm sorry' won't cut it, and I don't expect forgiveness, at least not now… All I ask is just one opportunity to try and make it up to you".
"Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Dudley", Harry began, "I have hated each and every one of you for as long as I can remember. I would lay in the cot in the cupboard and dream of all the most painful means to get back at all of you…"
Petunia had a hand over her mouth, a tear in her eye.
"… Only now, I see it wasn't your fault…"
"Do… you still hate us?", Petunia said, fearing the answer.
"How can I when you had no choice. It's gonna take me awhile… to process this".
"Here's a start", Vernon slid a padlock key across the table. "You can take your school things to your room. Let your owl…"
"Hedwig", Harry reminded.
"… Out and let him spread his wings. Your Hogwarts friends will always be welcome here… I know it's not much…"
0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF
To Whom it May Concern:
My name is Harry James Potter, and I would like to request permission to visit the Ministry of Magick. I understand that I have a prophecy in the Hall of Prophecies that I would like to retrieve.
Thank you for your consideration
Respectfully,
Harry Potter
"Hedwig, take this letter to the Ministry of Magick", as he tied the letter to the offered leg, and handed over an owl biscuit.
With a hoot, Hedwig took off for his mission: "Now we wait", he told Petunia.
"You never had your friends from school over. If you'd like to invite them some time, we'd really like to meet them".
"As soon as Hedwig's back. That would be great".
As soon as Hedwig returned from the Ministry, Harry attached a brief note: "Sorry for the turn around, but it's just a quick note to Hermione Granger"
0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF
"Mrs Dursley, Hi, Hermione Granger", the bushy haired girl who looked to be Harry's age introduced herself. She hoped her wariness didn't show. "Is Harry available?"
"I'll get him", Petunia explained, "he's out back, tending the garden".
"Hey, 'Mione, great to see you", he invited her into the house she'd never visited, but heard all too much about. She gave an involuntary shudder at the sight of the cupboard under the stairs. "They made Harry live in there?", she thought.
"How 'bout we go out? Show you around Little Whinging?"
"That'd be nice"
"We're goin' out!", Harry called out.
"Don't be late for supper", Petunia said as they were leaving.
It's not like Little Whinging was any sort of tourist attraction, and there really wasn't much to see other than the market where Petunia did her shopping, Harry's old school he attended before Hogwarts, and lastly the park where they sat on the swings.
"I know what I told you before about my Aunt and Uncle, but you can forget about that…"
"The way you described it, it sounded positively dreadful…"
"I know what you're thinking, but, no, I wasn't exaggerating. Something's changed…"
"What…", she asked, incredulous.
"I had an unexpected visitor…", he held up a hand to silence her. "Just hear me out. I don't know who it was, all I know is he's not any sort of threat. He showed all of us that Vernon and Petunia were under the influence of compulsions. They really have nothing against magick, but were mislead into believing they did, and that I was a freak for having it".
"How can you be so sure?", Hermione asked. "People don't change overnight".
"They do once the compulsions are removed".
"But… Harry… Who would do such a thing?"
"I've been asking myself that same question ever since last night. I don't like it, but I always come to the same conclusion: Dumbledore. He did it, Hermione. It was Dumbledore all along".
"Harry! The Professor loves you. He would never…"
"Wouldn't he, Hermione? How well do we really know Dumbledore? All I know is that someone dropped me on the Dursleys' doorstep sometime during the night of November the first. There was a letter, and it was still lousy with compulsions that attached to any normie handling it. It was signed Albus Dumbledore. Petunia was Lily's sister, so she would know all about Hogwarts and its headmaster".
"Maybe someone else stopped and put the compulsions…"
"Now you're grasping at straws. Think about how absurd that sounds: some wizard happens by the house in the middle of the night and decides to put compulsions on a letter just for shits and giggles? Seriously, 'Mione?"
"I can't… I read so much about him! The Professor is the greatest wizard of the century!"
"He may be accomplished, but that doesn't mean he can always be trusted. I don't understand half of it myself, but I hope to get things cleared up soon enough".
0xFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF
The return letter from the Ministry arrived the next morning. He was given his PIN (2, 4, 8, 7, 6) and instructions on how to find and enter the Ministry.
Petunia dropped Harry off at the old warehouse. He entered the old callbox which would function normally if any muggles used it. Harry wore his Hogwarts robes for the occasion. He entered the PIN. A female voice that sounded prerecorded: "Welcome to the Ministry of Magick. State your name and business".
"Harry Potter: I'm here to collect my prophecy".
A badge dropped into the change tray:
Visitor
Harry Potter
Claim prophecy
"Please display this badge while you are here, and have a pleasant day"
The floor of the callbox began its descent below street level, leaving him in total darkness, until a sliver of light appeared at floor level. It grew until the doors opened onto a large atrium. Fireplaces along the far wall flared with emerald flames as magi in robes came and went. Harry headed for a security kiosk.
"Wand?", the guard asked.
Harry handed it over: "You'll get this back when you leave. State your business"
"I'm here to claim my prophecy. I believe that's the Department of Mysteries"
"Wait here for your escort".
The guard took out a sheet of pink paper, wrote something, and folded it into a paper airplane which he launched. It sped off, down the atrium towards gold coloured gates. Some ten minutes later, his escort arrived.
"This way, Mr Potter".
He followed across the atrium, past the Fountain of Magical Brethren. This fountain's center piece was a couple of magi: man and woman. Around their feet a house elf, a goblin, and a centaur looked up worshipfully. Water spouted from the upraised wands of the couple, from the house elf's bat-like ears, the tip of the goblin's hat, and the tip of the centaur's arrow. A brass plaque informed everyone passing by that it was a gift of the Minister of Magick: Cornelius Fudge.
The next stop was the lifts beyond the now open gate. Harry and his escort stepped into a lift that looked like it was straight out of 1900. The gate closed and Harry saw that these lifts moved on three axis. Each floor was announced by that same prerecord female voice.
Finally: "Floor nine: Department of Mysteries".
Down a long, dark corridor dimly lit by torch light to a featureless black door that swung open at their approach, and into a circular room with about a dozen or so featureless, handle-less, doors. In between each door was a candelabra attached to the wall. The candles burned with a blue flame.
"This is a bit disorienting for first time visitors", Harry wondered about that, and as the door closed, all he could see was those blue flames, and their reflections on the black floor. There was a rumbling, stone-on-stone, grinding as the candle lights began to move. The wall was rotating so fast that the blue candles looked like blue streaks. After a few seconds, the rumbling died down as the wall came to a halt.
"This way", as his escort pointed to one of the doors. How he knew, Harry couldn't tell, and he didn't ask.
They entered a hall with a very high ceiling. The warehouse was filled with rack after rack, all filled with these glass spheres the size of tennis balls. Some glowed with a green light while others were dark. Harry was led to a clerk's desk.
"How can I help you?"
"I'm here to collect my prophecy", Harry explained. "I would also like to keep this a secret, that I collected this prophecy, or that I was even here in the Ministry".
"That can be arranged. Name?"
"Harry Potter".
He consulted a Rolodex: "Potter… Potter… Ah, here it is: June, 1980. Aisle 97: that way".
Harry's escort came along: "Be very careful that you don't attempt to take – or touch – a prophecy sphere that doesn't belong to you. There's a privacy charm that results in instant madness for anyone who attempts to steal a prophecy not theirs, even if it was an honest mistake".
They had to go past forty aisles until they came to 97. What made locating it much easier were larger signs that gave the year. Aisle 97 began in 1958, placing 1980 at the end of the racks. It was on a high shelf:
S.P. Trelawney to A. Dumbledore
Dark Lord (aka Tom M. Riddle)
(?) Harry J. Potter
The shelves were all equipped with rolling ladders, so it was no big deal to climb up and take the dusty sphere from its resting place.
"Would you like to hear your prophecy now, or later?"
"How do I…"
"Just break it"
"I'll listen later. You remember: I was never here".
"Of course, we honour our clients' privacy. Do you want to use our apparition parlour?"
"My mother's picking me up".
Back home, Harry produced the prophecy sphere. It was still glowing green.
"So how does this work?", Petunia asked.
He set it on the kitchen table: "You break it".
"Let's find out…"
"I think it will be better if we wait for Tom, then we can hear it together".
That evening, just after 9:00, Tom arrived as he promised.
"Have you completed your assignment?", he asked.
"I got it", Harry showed the green, glowing orb. "I thought it best to wait".
"We're all on tenterhooks", Petunia said.
"I'm sure you are, shall we?", Tom replied.
Harry led the way to the kitchen, and after Tom, Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley settled around the table, Harry retrieved the hammer Petunia used to tenderize the cheaper cuts and smacked it. It broke with the sound of shattering a vacuum tube. A green mist spread from the shattered sphere, over the table top, before rising and coalescing into the head of a woman who looked to be in her mid-twenties. She wore glasses with lenses so thick that her eyes looked unnaturally large. Then she "spoke":
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches
Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies
The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not.
Either must die at the hands of the other, for neither can live while the other survives.
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.
Then she faded, and the green mist disappeared.
"What does it mean?", Petunia the first to break the silence.
Harry reached for his lightning bolt scar…
"At the tail end of my first year, I confronted the Dark Lord…."
"Harry!", Petunia called out.
"I didn't tell you because I figured Uncle Vernon didn't want to hear about it" (Harry remembered, Vernon didn't even want the name of the school mentioned.) "Voldemort possessed Professor Quirrel, his face plastered on the back of Quirrel's head. He threatened to kill Ron Weasley, rape Hermione Granger, and kill me unless I retrieved for him the Philosopher's Stone Dumbledore hid in a Mirror of Erised…."
"Who is this 'Dumbledore'?, Vernon asked.
"He's the headmaster of Hogwarts", Petunia answered. "He was headmaster when Lily started. I wrote to him, asking if I could go to Hogwarts with my sister".
"That big hairy guy who virtually kidnapped Harry? Gave Dudley that tail?"
"No, that was Hagrid, the gamekeeper and Keeper of the Keys", Harry explained. "You never met Dumbledore".
"He did what?! That was highly irresponsible of him: bringing something like that into a school full of children", Vernon said.
"Tell me about it", Harry continued, "not to mention allowing a possessed professor into the castle for a whole term. When I grabbed his wand hand, it burned him like fire. I grabbed both faces, and they burned, but I felt nothing. I was beating Voldemort to a pulp when the other professors arrived. Once Voldemort left Quirrel as a wraith, there was nothing anyone could do for Quirrel; Voldemort stole too much life force and he didn't last out the hour. Maybe that's the power the Dark Lord knows not?"
"Just what the hell is Dumbledore up to? It's beginning to look like sending you to Hogwarts was a big mistake. There is no excuse for such irresponsibility! Maybe we should send you to Smeltings this fall with Dudley?", Vernon mused.
Thankfully, Harry also didn't tell them about Ginny Weasley and the cursed dairy. Especially not how he fought a 60 foot long basilisk, received a nearly fatal bite that he survived only due to the intervention of Dumbledore's pet phoenix: Fawkes. If his step parents knew about that, he was certain to be going to Smeltings.
"NO! You can't!", Harry and Tom called out together.
"Why the HELL not?!", Vernon was on the verge of another one of his famous explosions.
"You can't ask me to just abandon my friends", Harry objected.
"Mr, Mrs Dursley, there are lives at stake here. Lives that can be saved. However, that can only happen if Harry returns to Hogwarts".
"Who?", Harry asked.
"Your classmates, Cedric Diggory, Colin Creevey, Fred Weasley…"
"Something happened to Fred?"
"Not yet, and that's what we're trying to prevent. There's also Hermione Granger…"
"What happened to Hermione?!", Harry asked.
"See for yourself", Tom opened his case, and took out a newspaper.
He handed it over, the text was blurred as to be unreadable, but the picture was all too clear. It moved like an animated GIF for those with magical abilities. Even though black and white, Harry easily recognized an older Hermione. She was wearing nothing but a rough poncho that barely covered her ass. A man was escorting her to the steps leading up to a platform with a cross beam from which swung a thin rope tied with a hangman's knot.
She walked up the steps, looking completely defeated. At the top of the platform, a hangman, dressed like a Medieval executioner awaited. He took a small step stool, and placed it under the noose. Then he led Hermione to the step stool, helped her up, tied her hands behind her back. He stepped around, and placed the noose over her bushy hair and tightened the noose around her neck. She was blinking back tears, while mouthing "I love you" to someone unseen. The exaggerated mouth motions meant she couldn't be heard, due to a Silencing Charm, undoubtedly. She tipped the stool on its rear legs, then she kicked it behind her. She dropped a few inches, her toes barely above the floor. Harry could plainly see she was dead. Then the picture rewound to play again.
"How awful", Petunia said. All she saw was Hermione's body strung up by the neck.
"What… did she do?", Harry asked. "Why can't we read the article?"
"Hermione was tried before the Wizengamot, convicted, and sentenced for being an accessory to the murder of her husband…"
"Seems awfully severe for that", Vernon said. "She didn't actually do it?"
"No, she didn't, but she's a muggle born, and her husband was a pure blood. That was enough. This is what the Ministry will become after Voldemort's final defeat. They didn't learn one simple, Goddamned, thing".
"How do you know all this?", Harry asked.
"What I'm about to tell you will be unbelievable, but it's the straight up truth. I won't sugar coat it, so I'll come straight out with it. I am a time traveler. I came to this time from the year 2031…"
"That's the most ridiculous thing I ever heard!", Vernon objected. "That's impossible!"
"Impossible for 1993, but not for 2031. It was in 2022 that DARPA…"
"What's DARPA?", Petunia asked.
"The Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency. It's part of the American Department of Defense. In 2022, DARPA began Project Tik-Tok – time travel. I joined the project in 2025. By 2031, we had completed what we called the 'Time Tunnel' the hardware part of the project. We had some small successes, sending rats back in time, but we were unable to bring them back. There was this Senator, Senator Clarke, who was displeased, and being that he was on the committee overseeing the financing, he was threatening to cut off our funding. I wasn't left with any options here, so I used the time tunnel to come to this time and place. There will be no going back for me. So I have to make the best of this time, and I'll be needing Harry's assistance".
"And why would you do that?"
"Let's just say it's personal".
"That still doesn't explain how you know this", Harry said.
"I know because you told me yourself…"
"I never met you".
"You recognize your own handwriting?", Tom asked as he brought out a parchment. It was yellow with age, and written in ball point, not a quill. "You wrote that when you were eighteen".
Dear (Redacted):
If you're reading this, it's because circumstances have prevented me from telling you in person. I am Harry James Potter, your godfather. I want to explain to you why you didn't grow up with your parents (redacted) and (redacted). They died shortly after you were born during a battle with a very evil dark wizard styling himself Lord Voldemort. They fought, even though they had a very young child, because they didn't want you growing up in a world dominated by the likes of Voldemort. They understood the chance they were taking, but they took it in order to give you a good life, and to give many others good lives that would have been impossible.
I know what it's like, being raised by, at best, relatives, and at worst by complete strangers. You see (redacted) I also lost both parents when I was scarcely older than you were. It was the same evil wizard, Lord Voldemort, who murdered them during the Sabbat of Samhein, 1981. I know what it's like, wondering how your parents were. I hope you learned more about (redacted) and (redacted) than I was allowed to learn about James and Lily.
"Why the redactions? Who are you?", Harry asked. "Why can't I read the article?"
"There are things I can't tell you now, but I can assure you: you will know everything all in good time".
"Now you sound just like Dumbledore. After I chased Voldemort from Quirrel, that's what he said: I'll answer all your questions except for those I don't want to answer, or words to that effect. When I asked why Voldemort attacked me when I was just a baby, that was one he refused to answer".
"Dumbledore kept knowledge from you because he's manipulating you. There are certain events that must take place otherwise I just might cease to exist. There are far more questions about time travel we can't answer than we can. I don't fancy suddenly poofing out of existence. Secondly, once we begin making changes in this time, our future knowledge becomes increasingly irrelevant and useless. We lose our advantage. I'm asking you to trust me, and I know I'm asking a lot. I can assure you that we can prevent a disaster, but only if you trust me".
"Say for now I trust you. What can you tell me?"
"Tell us how you came to Hogwarts".
"A few days before I turned eleven, a letter arrived, but not from an owl. It dropped through the letter slot, but Uncle Vernon wouldn't let me read it. More letters came, and he tried nailing the letter slot shut, but more came under the door. Next, he tried blocking all the windows and doors, but more kept arriving, down the chimney, and in a carton of a dozen eggs instead of eggs.
"Next, we tried staying in a hotel, but the desk man said that about a hundred letters addressed to 'H. Potter' were waiting at the front desk. Finally, we tried staying in this shack on a small island. There was a fierce storm, it was cold, wet, and miserable.
"That's when this big guy burst into the room, saying he was Rubeus Hagrid. He was most upset with Uncle Vernon as I was told nothing about Magical Britain. He twisted the barrel of Vernon's shot gun, and gave Dudley a pig tail…"
"Don't remind me", Dudley complained.
"That doesn't sound so bad", Tom said.
"On his ass, not his head", Harry explained.
"Anyway, Hagrid in effect kidnapped me, took me to Diagon Alley to retrieve gold from my education trust vault to buy robes, books, a cauldron, quills and ink. When the First rolled around, I asked if Uncle Vernon would drive me to King's Cross to board the Hogwarts Express. He was most amused, pointing out a sign post for Platform 9 and 10, but no Platform Nine and Three Quarters. He left me with my trunk, Hedwig's cage, and lots of people staring. Owls aren't common pets.
"I was getting quite flustered, the departure time was coming up fast, but no platform…"
"Hagrid didn't explain how to access the platform?", Tom asked.
"I guess it must've slipped his mind or he figured I already knew. Finally, I heard this plumpish woman I would later learn was Molly Weasley asking what was the platform for the Hogwarts Express. This girl accompanying her called out 'Nine and Three Quarters', and that's how I found the way through the brick pillar".
"That didn't strike you as being strange, and all too convenient?"
"Well, no, I was just glad I hadn't missed the train".
"How many Weasley kids are there, Harry?"
"There's Bill, Charlie, Fred and George, Ron, and Ginny".
"All that time, and she can't remember the platform after seeing all those kids off and has to ask?"
"You're saying it was a set-up?", Harry asked.
"Precisely. I'd bet that Dumbledore placed a compulsion on Hagrid to make him forget to tell you that all important detail".
"Why?", Harry asked.
"Isn't it obvious?"
"Not to me".
"Dumbledore wanted your first contact, your first friend among wizard-kind, to be Ronald Weasley. Molly didn't forget, she couldn't've. She did that so you would hear, and meet Ron".
"But… why?"
"Think, Harry, Dumbledore wanted you to become as stupid and lazy as Ron…"
"He isn't…"
"Who has challenged you to excel at Hogwarts?"
"Hermione… but…"
"There's no buts about it: Ronald Weasley isn't all that bright, and his two priorities for Hogwarts are fun and games. School work is something to be avoided, and as little of it done as it distracts from more important things like screwing off. Isn't that true?"
"He's always putting off homework until the last minute. He's always asking Hermione to do most of the work. But he's really good at Chess. He's always been a good friend".
"Harry, Ronald Weasley is not your friend. In fact, he will become your personal Wormtail…:
"Who's Wormtail?"
"Before the summer is out, you will know exactly who Wormtail is. You have been mislead into believing that friends are enemies and enemies friends. It is fortunate you rescued Hermione from the mountain troll, and that she lied to keep you from more severe punishments. If you hadn't made friends, your academic career would be much, much worse. Dumbledore doesn't want you learning anything".
"But… why?!"
"I'd like an answer too", Vernon said.
"Think, Harry, what did the prophecy say?", Tom didn't wait for an answer. "'Either must die at the hands of the other', didn't it? Dumbledore wants you dead. Once you're out of the way, the prophecy fulfilled, the way is clear for Dumbledore to take out the Dark Lord. That's why he doesn't want your learning how to defend yourself.
"How have your Defense lessons been so far?"
"Horrible, there was Professor Quirrel, and all he did was brag about his exploits. Then there was Professor Lockhart, who was even more useless. That's because of the jinx, no one wants the DADA professorship".
"Any half way decent Curse Breaker could remove that jinx, even if there was one. Dumbledore wants you defenseless before the Dark Lord, and he doesn't give a rat's ass about how many others also won't learn. Dumbledore is a user, and one every bit as bad as Voldemort. He justifies everything as being for the greater good – in other words, the ends justify the means".
"Who else?", Harry asked. "Who are these other friends I'm suppose to have?"
"For one, Severus Snape…"
"Snape hates me…"
"No, he doesn't. He knows what Dumbledore's plans are, and he's working to preserve the life of the son of Lily Evans. This goal will cost him his life. He's acting like he hates you to keep Dumbledore unaware of what he's doing.
"Severus made an extremely foolish mistake as a youth. He joined Voldemort's ranks, but soon came to regret that decision, and agreed to spy for Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix. However, he's still a Death Eater with the Dark Mark, and he got that after proving his devotion by committing a murder. He's under Dumbledore's protection, but he likely goes to Azkaban for the rest of his life should Dumbledore withdraw his protection. That's why he's been treating you as harshly as he has. He can't let Dumbledore know by letting you know".
"Anyone else?", Harry asked.
"Draco Malfoy…"
You have got to be shittin' me: Malfoy?!
"In the future, Draco will save your life. His mother, Narcissa, will save your life again. The whole family will become highly disillusioned with their Dark Lord. It shouldn't be too hard to pry the Malfoys from Voldemort's grasp, turn them into a Light family".
"But… Draco… he hates me".
"I'm not saying it will be easy, but keep your eyes open. An opportunity should present itself".
Harry shook his head: "Draco Fucking Malfoy…"
"Language!", Petunia reprimanded.
"I know it looks impossible now, but keep an open mind and open eyes. You'll know what to do and when to do it".
"Anyone else?"
"Yes, there's Neville Longbottom, and when she arrives, Luna Lovegood".
"Neville… he's kind'a…"
"He's had a rough upbringing, and all he needs is a boost of confidence. He becomes quite the hero later on".
Harry pointed to the Prophet article about Hermione's hanging: "Did Ron have anything to do with that?"
"I can't tell you, but I can tell you this: you need to act as if nothing's changed. That means you", as he pointed to Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley. "You can be sure of one thing: Dumbledore's watching. He may have agents living here on your street. For sure, he's sending Order of the Phoenix agents under Disillusionment Charms to look in on you. He's also monitoring you. You've seen his office? All those mysterious gew-gaws that litter his office? All of them are spying on you".
"That means I have to Harry Hunt?", Dudley asked.
"Yes…"
"I don't know… if I can"
"You have to".
"It's OK", Harry said, "I know you won't mean it".
"One other thing", Tom took out a book. "This should give you a good idea as to who your headmaster really is".
Harry looked at the title: The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore, by Rita Skeeter.
