28th July 1992
If one were to look down Little Whinging Surrey during the long summer months, they would find nothing peculiar.
Nothing, of course, except for Narcissa Malfoy pacing quickly down the cobbled streets, Alexandra following quickly, holding a tiny cloth bag.
"Mrs Malfoy, I'm sure we've passed it already,"
"Nonsense Alexandra, number four must be before number six,"
"Perhaps we should ask one of the children? They're sure to know."
"I suppose child muggles shall not be too bad," she conceded, grimacing.
"Hey!," Alexandra yelled, looking at a pig-like boy across the street.
"Maybe not him-"
"DO YOU KNOW THE WAY TO NUMBER 4 PRIVET DRIVE?" she yelled across the cars.
He couldn't hear her, so Alexandra tried to cross the street nearly getting hit by a car.
"Those filthy muggles and their death contraptions!" cursed Narcissa, holding tight to Alexandra's arm.
Who knew Mrs. Malfoy knew such colourful language?
The boy introduced himself as Dudley (Alexandra thought he was far more pig-like closer up, especially with the food on his mouth, ugh) and when Alexandra repeated the question, he simply looked at her with a confused look on his face.
"Why do you want to come to my house?" he asked, scratching his vile stomach.
"Alexandra, the boy hasn't even getting your letters, perhaps we shall return next year," whispered Narcissa, looking a little green.
Alexandra shook her head no, and told Dudley that she wanted to see his parents (carefully avoiding the subject of Harry, knowing from Harry's stories that he didn't like the boy much).
"Wha- alright." he said, shrugging his shoulders and walking in the direction they just came from.
Alexandra gave Narcissa a look that very clearly stated I-told-you-so, resulting in Narcissa sending a discreet, mildly stinging hex.
"Ow," she muttered as she knocked on the door, Dudley having run off already.
The door opened to reveal a tall, rather horsey looking blond woman. Her most distinguishing feature was her long neck, which made her look like a mooncalf, without the...appeal.
"Good morning, Mrs. Dursley!" greeted Alexandra with a polite curtsey.
Narcissa managed to force a strained smile.
"I'm sure your nephew, um, Harry Potter would have told you I'd be arriving today!" she said with a smile and a slight nervous laugh.
Petunia Dursley however, was speechless. She remembered, ever so long ago, Lily sending letters with pictures of two children, one red-headed like the mother, but never inquired about the whereabouts of the child.
It seems she didn't have to. They must have met at that freak school.
"Oh, how impolite of me," Alex continued, feigning ignorance to the fact Harry clearly did not tell his relatives about her. "My name's-"
"Alexandra Potter," finished Petunia.
Alexandra stiffened.
"I actually go by Alexandra Evans, now, Mrs. Dursley, have we met?"
"Alexandra has decided to stay with... you, for the remainder of the summer holidays." interjected Mrs. Malfoy, before things got too awkward.
"My nephew has not informed us of your arrival, Miss Evans." said Petunia, trying to close the door.
She would've succeeded too, if Vernon Dursley didn't join them at the front.
"What's this?" he asked.
Alexandra now knew where Dudley got his porkiness from.
"She's here for the boy, I saw it in one of his letters," murmured his wife.
"BOY!" yelled uncle Vernon and Alexandra heard a crash coming from inside before Harry appeared, glasses askew.
Narcissa didn't like the man's tone of voice, even if she wasn't Harry Potter's biggest fan.
This was no place for any child, she thanked merlin that poor Draco wasn't an orphan.
"Harry!" shouted Alex, dropping her bag and pulling him into a hug, her shoelaces tangling.
"Alexandra!" scolded Mrs. Malfoy. "We wait to enter houses! We do not barge in!"
Her reprimands fell on deaf ears as the girl was too busy asking Harry why he hadn't replied to any of his messages.
"Miss Evans, it was nice making your acquaintance, but I'm afraid we don't have any space in the house for you." stated Petunia, her face sour.
"Oh, I'm sure Harry and I can share a room, I dare say we're small enough to fit," said Alexandra dismissively.
"I'm afraid we cannot have another mouth to feed." said Petunia, with an air of finality.
"But Aunt Petun-"
"I don't want to hear it. Isn't the laundry basket full?"
"Alexandra let's leave-," said Narcissa, knowing this wouldn't end well.
"I can cook. Somewhat, we usually leave it to the house elves, but I make good toast! And- and- Oh! We bought my trace off, which means I can perform magic." she rushed. "I promise, I won't be a burden, please just let me stay, it's my birthday in three days!"
Alexandra chewed her lip nervously.
"Very well-"
Alexandra had already run off to find Harry.
Narcissa let out a sigh and left the driveway, hoping she could relocate the apparition point.
29th July 1992
Alex was busy gardening. More specifically picking out the weeds.
What an tiring chore, she thought. Especially with Harry upstairs doing the dusting.
As she felt the burning summer heat on her neck, she cast a quick cooling charm, Aunt Petunia would kill her for using magic.
She looked at the weeds and then quickly for any sight of Aunt Petunia.
Phew, she thought as she casted a quick de-gnoming charm, hoping it would work on the weeds. It did, as it set all the weeds into a neat pile beside her.
She turned around to find Aunt Petunia standing over her.
"I-" Petunia faltered, looking at the weeds and then the red-headed girl, with the offending magic instrument in hand.
She used to do the same thing, when she came home.
"Don't try that again, let's hope none of the neighbours saw your... freakishness." she finally said, gesturing for Alex to get back inside the house.
Alex ran in, even the cooling charm not concealing the embarrassment on her face.
Where did Petunia Evans learn to sneak around?
30th July 1992
"So you can use magic outside of Hogwarts?"
"Yeah, the trace is something the ministry has on every witch and wizard under the age of seventeen, and it sends an alert when they perform underage magic. It's supposed to end when you're 17, but plenty of pure-bloods get it cut shorter."
"How?" asked Harry awe-struck as Alex lit a match with her wand.
"Money, of course." she answered, as if it was the most obvious solution in the world.
"Why don't half-bloods or muggleborns do it then?" he asked, feeling something fishy.
"Well, I- um-,"
Harry waited.
"Does it look like I know the answer to everything?" she asked sending a tickling charm his way.
Harry laughed, begging her to stop when tears came out of his eyes.
"Maybe not, but you definitely know a lot more than I do." he said hoarsely.
"And yet you still manage to become Gryffindor seeker," she sighed with fake remorse.
Harry threw a cushion at her head and it hit her straight in the face.
"YOU PRAT!" she half laughed, half yelled.
"It's on," he said grinning.
The two of them were huddled close to the tempus charm Alex had cast.
"5...4...3...2...1!"
"Happy Birthday!" they chorused, laughing.
Alexandra cancelled the charm, as she switched the lights off, giggling in excitement as she heard an owl tap on the window. She let it in and fed the owl a treat before sending it off, she'd check the parcel in the morning.
After all, she was a very busy 12-year-old!
31st July 1992
Harry woke up to the sound and smell of fire.
Fire?
FIRE!
He ran down the stairs, to the kitchens, where Alex was desperately trying to 'Auguamenti' the oven, which was on fire.
She was only succeeding in creating more smoke.
Speaking of the kitchen, it was a mess. Were those eggs on the wall?
"HARRY HELP!" shouted Alex through the smoke, "THE BLOODY THINGS ON FIRE!"
"I CAN TELL!" he replied, opening a window, why weren't the fire alarms triggered?
He looked at the alarm, oh merlin, was that the butter stick?
"ALEX! AUNT PETUNIA AND UNCLE VERNON ARE COMING BACK IN A FEW HOURS FOR A DINNER PARTY! WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME DID YOU DO!"
"BLAME THAT BLOODY COOKBOOK!" she shouted back. "I WAS JUST TRYING TO BAKE A CAKE WHEN IT SAID TO CRACK THE EGGS! CRACK THE EGGS WITH WHAT?"
"So you threw them against the wall?" he asked incredulously.
"How else are you supposed to do it?" she sniffed, "Honestly, muggles need house elves. There's truly no deciphering these infernally imprecise cookbooks."
"You mean you need a house elf," laughed Harry nervously as he brushed flour out of her hair. He didn't even want to know where that came from.
"Hmph. Where is the nearest cake shop?"
"Alex, we're not leaving the house till we clean this up."
Alex took the wand out of her dressing gown, and with one wave cleared up the wasted ingredients.
"Merlin's sake, I'm glad you can do magic." whispered Harry, relieved.
Alex rolled her eyes.
"I was trying to do something the muggle way," she commented, looking at the burnt oven sadly.
"Well, next time you want to bake a cake, wake me up." Harry groaned, "We're gonna need a new oven."
That's fine, thought Alex, she had enough exchangeable galleons for that to be possible.
"We need a cake!" declared Alexandra, "Will you tell me where the nearest shop is, or am I going to have to find out for myself?"
"Alright, alright, let me get out of my dressing gown," said Harry, shaking his head.
This was going to be a long day.
The duo walked happily out of the sweet shop, without a cake but having bought a respectable number of treats, that they intended on finishing within the day. Or at least, before the Dursleys return.
Alex would hate to have to hex Dudley for attacking her sweets. Or perhaps she wouldn't hate it...
Nonetheless, the children were hunting for a technician because the oven was not going to fix itself. It had been over two hours, with no luck.
"Alex," Harry started, popping half a chocolate bar in his mouth, "Do you perhaps know any spells that can fix an oven?"
"Why on Earth would I know how to fix an oven?" replied Alexandra.
"Any fixing spells? I'll never be able to leave my room if they think I've broken the oven!"
Alex suddenly felt extremely guilty. Perhaps she did know something?
Let's head back, she told Harry, I doubt we're going to find someone who can fix it within half an hour.
Now back at the house, she took one look at the oven, and stated a hopeful 'Reparo'. The oven let out a little spark, to which Harry jumped.
"Scourgify," Alex whispered, wand pointed at oven and suddenly the oven was good as new. In fact, it looked better than before now that all the grease was gone.
"That was easy," said Harry, just as the doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of the Dursleys.
The five of them were seated for 'lunch', Harry and Alex picking at their food due to the increasing stomach ache. Maybe too many sweets were a thing.
At that moment, Uncle Vernon cleared his throat importantly and said, "Now, as we all know, today is a very important day."
Alex and Harry shared a look.
"This could well be the day I make the biggest deal of my career," said Uncle Vernon "I think we should run through the schedule one more time, we should all be in position at eight o'clock. Petunia, you will be —?"
"In the lounge," said Petunia promptly, "waiting to welcome them graciously to our home."
Vernon nodded, "Good, good. And Dudley?"
"I'll be waiting to open the door." Dudley put on a foul, simpering smile. "May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?"
Alex stifled a laugh, that feigned smile reminded her of another blond who loved to simper for his superiors. The Dursleys pretended to ignore her.
"Excellent, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon. Then he rounded on the twins. "And you?"
"I'll be in my bedroom"
"Making no noise,"
"And pretending I'm not there," said the two of them monotonously.
"Exactly," said Uncle Vernon nastily. Alex rolled her eyes, picking at her sandwich, was that mold? She pointed it out to Harry, who grimaced, trying to subtly spit his sandwich out.
"I will lead them into the lounge, introduce you, Petunia, and pour them drinks. At eight-fifteen —"
"I'll announce dinner," said Aunt Petunia.
"And, Dudley, you'll say —" "May I take you through to the dining room, Mrs. Mason?" said Dudley, offering his fat arm to an invisible woman.
"My perfect little gentleman!" sniffed Aunt Petunia.
"And you?" said Uncle Vernon viciously to Alex. "I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," said Alex jovially.
"Precisely. Now, we should aim to get in a few good compliments at dinner. Petunia, any ideas?"
"Vernon tells me you're a wonderful golfer, Mr. Mason... Do tell me where you bought your dress, Mrs. Mason..."
"Perfect... Dudley?"
"How about —'We had to write an essay about our hero at school, Mr. Mason, and I wrote about you.'"
This was too much for both Aunt Petunia and the siblings. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and hugged her son, while Harry ducked under the table so they wouldn't see him laughing, Alex bit her tongue hard to avoid laughing, which made her emit a weird choking sound.
"And you, boy?"
Harry fought to keep his face straight as he emerged. "I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," he said.
Alex couldn't keep it in, she burst into giggles, which had a domino effect on Harry, resulting in an early imprisonment.
She looked at the window, and was surprised that no letters had come for Harry, who was morosely looking out of the window. Honestly, she was shocked she had only received one, from the Malfoys, the Weasleys never forgot her birthday.
'Better one than none,' she said, looking at Harry and opening her gift.
The box had far more space on the inside and contained various curious artifacts, including but not limited to;
Treacle tart fudge, the newest signed edition of '101 useful hexes and spells for the new 17 year old,' as well as a pretty locket.
On closer inspection the locket was enclosed with one of her favourite pictures of her and Draco, they were hanging upside down like bats from the old oak tree in Malfoy Manor's gardens. They were nine, Narcissa had managed to catch the picture mid-laugh, and Alex replayed the memory over and over again.
"Who's that from?" asked Harry.
"The Malfoy's, I need to send them a thank-you-letter,"
Harry scoffed and returned to staring at the window as Alex pulled out some parchment and the Malfoy's peacock quill.
Harry suddenly sat bolt upright on his chair.
"Alex, there's something in the hedges," he declared, peering through his round glasses at the dark hedges.
"Let's hope it doesn't interfere with the Dursley's dinner plans," she said, not paying attention.
"ALEX THERE'S SOMETHING ON OUR BED!" he whisper-shouted.
"Harry, don't be daft-"
"Harry Potter is not daft, Miss Alexandra!"
Alex whipped around, her hair smacking her face painfully.
"Dobby!" she exclaimed, "Oh, where were you this morning, we had the most terrible accident with the muggle inven-"
"Who are you?" interrupted Harry.
"Dobby, sir. Just Dobby. Dobby the house-elf,"
"Oh — really?" said Harry
. "Er — I don't want to be rude or anything, but — this isn't a great time for me to have a house-elf in my bedroom."
Aunt Petunias high, false laugh sounded from the living room. They were going to be in so much trouble.
"Yes," said Alex, glaring at Harry for upsetting the elf, "I don't mean to be rude Dobby, but this truly isn't a great time, is there a particular reason you're here?"
"Oh, yes," said Dobby earnestly. "Dobby has come to tell you, it is difficult, Dobby wonders where to begin..."
"Sit down," said Harry politely, pointing at the bed.
Dobby burst into tears, loud, noisy tears. Alexandra pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Harry, he's a house elf, love." she explained.
"S-sit down!" he wailed. "Never... never ever..."
"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I didn't mean to offend you or anything —"
"Offend Dobby!" choked the elf. "Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a wizard— like an equal —"
"Harry, let me handle this." cut in Alexandra, she swore she heard the voices downstairs falter. "Dobby, answer me now, why are you here?"
"Ah, Miss Alexandra" he gasped, dabbing his face with a corner of the grubby pillowcase he was wearing, he looked at Harry.
"Harry Potter is valiant and bold! He has braved so many dangers already! But Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, to warn him, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later... Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts."
Alex was confused, "Dobby, what on- why would you say that?"
"W-what?" Harry stammered. "But I've got to go back — term starts on September first. It's all that's keeping me going. You don't know what it's like here. I don't belong here. I belong in your world — at Hogwarts."
"There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year," whispered Dobby, suddenly trembling allover. "Dobby has known it for months, sir. Harry Potter must not put himself in peril. He is too important, sir!"
"What terrible things?" said Alex at once. "Who's plotting them?"
Surely, not even Lucius would stoop this low?
Dobby made a funny choking noise and then banged his head frantically against the wall.
Slowly, Dobby shook his head.
"Well then, I can't think who else would have a chance of making horrible things happen at Hogwarts," said Harry. "I mean, there's Dumbledore, for one thing — you know who Dumbledore is, don't you?"
Alex grimaced.
Suddenly they heard thumping footsteps, Alex quickly ordered the elf under the bed.
"What — the —devil — are — you — doing?" said Uncle Vernon through gritted teeth, his face dangerously close to Harry's. "You've just ruined the punch line of my Japanese golfer joke... One more sound and you'll wish you'd never been born, boy!"
He stomped flat-footed from the room.
"You see Dobby, Harry doesn't belong here, he belongs with his friends, with me, at Hogwarts!" finished Alex with a polite smile.
"Friends who don't even write to Harry Potter?" said Dobby slyly.
"I expect they've just been — wait a minute," said Harry, frowning. "How do you know my friends haven't been writing to me?"
"Harry Potter mustn't be angry with Dobby. Dobby did it for the best —"
"Have you been stopping my letters?" Harry growled.
Oh no.
"Dobby, I must insist you head back, alright? That's an order. Leave, now."
"Miss Alexandra isn't of house, Miss Alexandra isn't actually my Miss," chanted Dobby.
Alex turned red, of course, she wasn't a Malfoy, unless she was in the manor, in sight of the Malfoys, she had no power over the elf.
Dobby turned towards Harry once more.
"Dobby has them here, sir," said the elf. Stepping smartly out of Harry's reach, he pulled a thick wad of envelopes from the inside of the pillowcase he was wearing. Alex could make out Hermione's neat writing, Ron's untidy scrawl, and even a scribble that looked as though it was from the Hogwarts gamekeeper, Hagrid.
Oh merlin, those were so many letters. Wait, were they signed to her too? She swore she saw one addressed to Malfoy manor.
That meddling bas-
"Harry Potter mustn't be angry... Dobby hoped... if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him... Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, sir..."
Alex lunged for the letters.
"Harry Potter will have them, sir, if he gives Dobby his word that he will not return to Hogwarts. Ah, sir, this is a danger you must not face! Say you won't go back, sir!" "No," said Harry angrily.
"Give me my friends' letters!"
7th August 1992
There were now bars on their window. Alex could bypass them if she wanted, but she'd rather not infuriate the Dursleys more, lest she end up without a roof over her head.
What was that stupid elf thinking, dropping the pudding like that?
"We're going to die here," moaned Harry, bored out of his mind. "They're never going to let us go back to Hogwarts!"
"Now Harry, surely someone will know we're missing," reasoned Alex, "I'm sure they'll come looking."
Harry's voice rose in a state of panic, "But what if they don't?"
Alexandra was beginning to get quite irritated.
"Well then, I'll bury you with your letters, you brainless muppet!" she sniped.
Harry sniffed, like he was going to start crying and Alex felt a little guilty. Just a little. He had turned away from her, to sleep or cry she didn't know.
Suddenly, the bars started to rattle.