The next day, Harry woke up earlier than usual. He had another weird dream, but it was a nice and pleasant one, unlike the nightmares he usually had which ended with a strange green flash. He dreamt that he was in a huge castle, where friendly ghosts lived and the paintings could talk. It was very welcoming and made him feel like he was at home. He pondered about the topic of home. Would he consider 4 Privet Drive home? He couldn't remember his parents, and he forgot everything that happened when he lived with them. He was only a year old when they died, after all. According to his aunt, they had died in a car crash. But somehow, he didn't quite believe her. If he was magic, shouldn't they have magic in their blood too? If so, why couldn't they have protected themselves?
This time, it was Uncle Vernon who barged into the cupboard. "Up, boy! You're eating breakfast outside today, your aunt's expecting some friends to come over and have lunch. You'll stay out of our sight until supper, and don't be late, or else…" his face became slightly purple, "It'll be the last thing you do. So bear that in mind!" He stormed out and shouted for him to follow. Harry hastily reached for his glasses and threw on a jacket, then went to the kitchen. He grabbed a sandwich and headed out.
Harry was annoyed at his uncle for shooing him out of the house in the morning, when he was still feeling groggy. Was this considered child abuse? He imagined himself kicking the Dursleys out to their lawn, and making them live in tents while he got the whole house to himself. He daydreamed about conjuring feasts out of nowhere for him to eat and forcing them to eat stale bread instead. Then he suddenly remembered: he could go and find the girl for a nice chat and hopefully, get to witness some more magic.
He finished his sandwich in a rush and went to find Mrs Figg's house. It took him 5 minutes until he reached it, and he looked over to the backyard. To his surprise, no one was there. Then he reminded himself that it was still 8 in the morning and she might still be having breakfast. He sat down on the spot and decided to wait for her to come out.
He waited for an hour or two, but he didn't see anyone come out. Maybe she'd stay inside for the whole day? Then he remembered his past visits to Mrs Figg's house whenever the Dursleys went out and left her in charge of babysitting him. He didn't recall anyone else there. Mrs Figg never mentioned anything about a niece. Who was the mysterious girl? If she didn't live in her house, what was she doing in the backyard?
3 hours had passed and the girl hadn't appeared. Harry got bored and finally decided to ask Mrs Figg about her whereabouts. It was the reasonable thing to do at that moment. Why not give it a shot?
Harry rang the doorbell, his heart racing. Mrs Figg opened the door, and was surprised to see a 6-year-old standing in the doorway. She asked grouchily, "What are you doing 'ere? Aren't you s'posed to be in the Dursley house?" He breathed in and said, very quickly, "I came to see the girl I saw in your backyard yesterday." She looked shocked. "Wha-what do y-you mean, wha-what girl?" He said innocently, "The one with brown hair! She showed me some magic!" Mrs Figg seemed alarmed. "Shush, boy, not here! Come in before you say anything else!" She seized his arm and dragged him inside. Once inside, she whispered in an urgent tone, "How on earth do you know about Medea?"
Medea? Harry decided for a moment. It must've been the girl's name. Medea…such a mysterious name! Harry thought. Then he registered that Mrs Figg was asking him a question and he hurriedly answered, "Um, I told you, I saw her in the backyard." She looked angry. "MEDEA!" she screamed. "You're in trouble, young lady!"
At the sound of her own name, Medea rushed downstairs, only to find Mrs Figg, livid with anger, and Harry standing in the living room. "Harry?" she called. "Hi! So you're Medea!" he replied. She shifted her gaze onto Mrs Figg. "You told him, didn't you?" "It's your problem! Didn't warn you not to use magic outside this house, did I now? " Harry squealed with delight, "So there IS magic! And Mrs Figg, you know about Hogwarts too?" he said innocently. She gasped with terror. "You aren't supposed to tell him about it until he gets his letter!" Medea looked guilty. "I couldn't resist. He saw me doing magic, after all. And he was very persistent. " she smiled at him. "Come on, Auntie Figg, he should know about everything. Imagine him going to Hogwarts without a inkling what he's involved in!" "At least wait until he's older!" Mrs Figg shot back. "Come on, Harry, let's go outside. And we will NOT be doing any magic, I assure you." Medea cast a playful glance at her and pulled Harry along to the backyard.
They had a lovely time talking about the wizarding world. "Why do you live with Mrs Figg?" Harry asked. Medea thought for a moment. "I'm an orphan, just like you. I never knew who my parents were. Apparently, someone found me abandoned and decided to hand me to Mrs Figg. Fortunately, she recognised that I was magic." This left Harry wondering about his family. "Medea? You said you've known me since I came here. Do you know where I came from? Did you know my parents? Were they magic too?"
The question took her aback. She wasn't ready to tell him that his parents were murdered by a Dark Lord feared by everybody, but yet he became famous because he somehow survived. She didn't know if she was qualified to tell him that. Dumbledore had reminded them not to reveal his true identity to himself. She had already told him that he was magic, and she didn't dare break another rule. "I don't know. I only recognised you by your scar," she gestured to Harry's forehead. "Only a wizard or witch would have a unusual mark like that," she lied. "That's why I decided to watch over you, because I know how hard it is to be abnormal in a Muggle neighbourhood."
"Oh. I would've thought…never mind then." Harry said, somewhat disappointed. Medea sighed with relief. She attempted to cheer him up. "Why don't I tell you more about our world?" He looked down his watch and saw that it nearly 6pm. "I'm sorry, I have to go. Uncle Vernon told me not to be late for supper." he said sadly. "Well, then run along! I'll see you tomorrow at 10am, if you're free!" Medea said in a hearty voice. "Okay…Bye then!" He said, and ran back to the house.