TWELVE YEARS LATER
Veronica sat on her bed, reading her latest letter from Remus. Remus Lupin was one figure from her childhood she vaguely remembered. He wasn't around very often, but he was familiar and that was enough for her. He had started writing her twice a month when she was sixteen to keep up with her and Harry since he had started school. He never wrote Harry, stating that it didn't feel like it was his place. She understood, and respected his decision to keep their correspondences between them. As the years went on, he began to write more frequently. She now recieved a letter at least once if not twice a week. She knew his secrets and his fears, his hopes and the things that made him happy. Even more, he knew all that about her. They had become friends, something which she was sorely lacking. When she told him about Dumbledore offering her a job as an assistant professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, he seemed ecstatic. In all honesty, she took the job for two resons. One- the students at Hogwarts never had a steady figure when it came to Defense. She hoped that maybe she could be that steady figure, even if she was only assisting. Two- taking this position would give her a chance to keep an eye on Harry. She had always been protective of him, and she hoped that this would give her an opportunity to keep him a bit safer while he was still in school. She smiled at the delicate signature at the bottom, running her fingers across it. "Always Yours, Remus." He hadn't started signing it like that until about two months prior, but she liked it. She had grown quite fond of him, and wondered if perhaps he had grown just as fond of her.
She reread that one letter until Petunia called for her to come downstairs. She looked over at Harry, who sat on his own bed, and sighed. "Here we go."
She carefully put the letter under her bed with the others she had recieved from him, and raced downstairs. "Yes, mother?"
"Come. Let me look you over before your father gets here." Petunia commanded.
She cringed at the term "father", but complied.
The doorbell chimed, followed by the shrill voice of Petunia Dursley. "Harry! Harry!"
The boy in question bound down the stairs and into the front hall, where his aunt and cousins stood stiffly.
He made immediate eye contact with Veronica, who looked absolutely miserable. Her black hair had tightcurls in it rather than her usual pin straight or waved style, her bangs had been trimmed to stay out of her eyes, and she was wearing light colored makeup. Worst of all, she was in a knee length dress that was covered in a hideous pastel floral print. She tried to give Harry a smile, but it came across as more of a pained grimace. She knew how awful it was for him when Vernon's family visited. It was unpleasant for both of them. He smiled warmly at her and nodded,letting her know that he would be alright.
Petunia flicked a bit of fluff from Dudley's sweater, looked at Veronica with a deep frown, then glowered crossly at Harry, and jerked her head toward the door.
"Well, go on. Open it." She insisted.
Harry reached for the knob when suddenly it burst open, revealing a large waddling woman. A bulldog followed her in, waddling in a near identical manner. Marge and Ripper, a duo who seemed almost too comical to be real. Vernon lurched forward out of the teeming rain, an enormous suitcase in hand, and dropped it in Harry's arms.
"Marge! Welcome! How was the train?" Petunia asked, smiling widely.
"Wretched. Ripper got sick." The large woman replied, gruffly.
"Ah. How... unfortunate."
"I would've left him with the others, but he pines so when I'm away. Don't you, darling?" Marge puckered her lips at Ripper and lead him down the hallway.
Petunia shuffled Dudley ahead, turning to look at her daughter. "I am aware that this is your last summer here, but please try to end it on a good note. Don't cause any problems while she's here."
Veronica sighed deeply, but nodded regardless. "Yes, mother."
Meanwhile, Harry followed his Uncle Vernon. "Uncle Vernon. I need you to sign this form."
"What is it?" The man questioned.
"Nothing. Something for school..."
Vernon eyed the parchment in Harry's hand suspiciously before answering. "Later perhaps. If you behave."
"I will if she does."
Harry and Veronica went to the kitchen area, preparing plates for everyone as the muggle members of the Dursleys spoke amongst themselves.
"Have everything packed for school, dear?" Veronica asked quietly.
"For the most part. I'll probably need to throw a few more shirts in there and a few things here or there. What about you? You have all your new robes you need?" He asked her.
"Not yet, but I'll figure it out when we get to London." She promised, before taking the plates over to set the table for the family.
Marge turned, eyeing Harry as he placed her plate on the table. "So. Still here, are you?"
"Yes." Harry replied, a small sass in his voice that made Veronica stifle a snicker.
"Don't say 'yes' in that ungrateful tone. Damn good of my brother to keep you, if you ask me. It'd have been straight to an orphanage if he'd been dumped onmy doorstep."
Just then, Dudley, who was sitting comatose before the TV, emit a hollow, brain-dead chuckle. Veronica rolled her eyes as she pulled the corkscrew from the drawer, then grabbed the decanter of Brandy, setting them both on the countertop for later.
"Is that my Dudders! Hm? Is that my neffy poo? Come and say hello to your Auntie Marge." Marge exclaimed, flashing a thick fan of pound notes.
Dudley simply blinked,waddled forward, and extended his plump palm obediently.
Harry and looked on in absolute disgust and contempt. Veronica took his hand and gave it a quick squeeze, standing beside him.
Vernon made brief eye contact with them, letting them know that they may make one small plate apiece and eat it while they stood in the kitchen.
Almost an hour later, they were instructed to clear the table. As Harry cleared the dishes, Vernon motioned for Veronica to bring over the bottle of brandy.
"Can I tempt you, Marge?" He asked, snatching the container from Veronica's hands.
"Just a small one. A bit more... abit more... That's the boy." She said before taking a sloppy sip. "Aah. Excellent nosh, Petunia. It's normally just a fry-up for me, what with twelve dogs."
She smacked her lips, then lowered her brandy, and let Ripper take a slobbery lap out of the glass... then caught Harry looking. "What are you smirking at!" Harry just shrugged as he and Veronica continued cleaning up. "Where is it that you send him, Vernon?"
"St. Brutus's. It's a first-rate institution for hopeless cases. Veronica actually managed to get a job there this year now that she's finished her own schooling."
Hearing this, Harry frowned at Veronica, then glanced at Vernon, who just glared darkly at him.
"I see. And do they use the cane at St. Brutus's, boy?" Marge questioned.
"Oh, yes. I've been beaten loads of times." Harry said, causing Veronica to smile and shake her head in amusement.
"Excellent. I won't have this namby-pamby wishy-washy nonsense about not hitting people who deserve it. Still. Mustn't blame yourself for how this one's turned out, Vernon. It all comes down to blood. Bad blood will out. What is it the boy's father did, Petunia?"
Veronica's jaw clenched, waiting to hear the answer.
"Nothing. That is... he didn't work. He was -- unemployed." Came Petunia's short, irritated answer.
'Of course he didn't do anything. He was busy trying to take care of me and fight in a bloody war.', Veronica thought to herself.
"Of course. And a drunk, I expect." Marge scoffed.
"That's a lie." Harry snapped, before Veronica could get the words out herself.
Marge paused, eyes narrowed on Harry. "What did you say?"
"My dad wasn't a drunk."
POP! The glass in Marge's hand exploded.
"Oh my goodness! Marge!" Petunia exclaimed.
"Not to worry, Petunia. I have a very firm grip." Marge assured her.
Harry stared at the shattered glass in surprise before sharing a shocked look with Veronica.
"You two. Go to bed. Now." Vernon demanded.
"Quiet, Vernon. It doesn't matter about the father. In the end it comes down to the mother. You see it all the time with dogs. If there's something wrong with the bitch, there'll be something wrong with the pup..." Marge said with a smirk.
"Shut up! Shut up!" The two magically inclined cousins yelled.
Aunt Marge started to reply, when a button on her dress sailed into the air. The seams on her dress groaned, and the thread burst. Marge's eyes widened and her cheeks billowed, followed by the rest of her body. She began to inflate like a monstrous, grotesque balloon.
"MARGE!" Vernon cried.
As she rose, Vernon leaped for her. Harry and Veronica simply watched the scene unfold in stunned silence as Marge bounced gently across the ceiling and into the back yard.
It only took seconds after her family went outside for Veronica to turn to Harry and grab his shoulders. "Listen to me, you go get what you need and you throw it in your trunk. Grab your wand and anything else you need. Quickly, Harry."
They both ran up the stairs to their shared room and threw their clothes into their trunks. Veronica grabbed her stacks of Remus' letters from under her mattress and tossed them in hers, then closed the lid. Harry had her wand in his hand and held it out to her. "Ready?"
She grabbed it with a nod and pulled up her trunk. "Let's go."
Thuds echoed through the house as they dragged their trunks down the stairs causing Veronica to flinch each time.
Vernon stood at the bottom of the steps, waiting for them. "YOU BRING HER BACK! YOU BRING HER BACK AND PUT HER RIGHT!"
"No! She deserved what she got! And you... you keep away from me." Harry retorted.
Vernon eyed Harry's wand nervously, then grinned with knowing cruelty. "You're not allowed to do magic out of school."
Veronica raised her own wand, fully prepared to hex Vernon where he stood. "No, but I can. So step back. Now."
Vernon took a wary step vackwards before looking at Harry once more. "They won't have you now. You've got nowhere to go."
Harry looked at Veronica, who gave him a small nod, letting him know she was with him. He looked back at Vernon and shook his head. "Anywhere's better than here."