A/N: You finally get the chapter! Those of you who have already correctly guessed Mafalda's identity: prepare to be vindicated. For the others: I hope this helps! And reviews, as always, are love.

Chapter 17

I know a girl who talks to flowers

She loves how tickling feels

She could listen to snow fall for hours

She believes that nargles are real

Some people tease her and call her names

She doesn't seem to care

She sees no reason to be the same

As she dances with her hands in the air

Hawthorn and Holly

Time passed quickly, and soon the birthday party (smack dab as usual between Dudley's birthday and Harry's) was upon them. The trip through the gardens, while much quieter than their usual parties, was suitably impressive. Plenty of snacks were shared and photos taken, so no one was upset. While the birthday boys themselves were not the most excited about this year's particular venue, it was a place Petunia had always wanted to see – and coming here had been their concession to see Diagon Alley later with their adopted uncles.

Somehow between the candy and treats, all of the partygoers had a good time. The gift giving had been set aside for their return to Number 4, and so the troop all duly made their way back for cake and ice cream and the unwrapping of presents.

All of the gang was present, with Piers sticking to Dudley like a burr and a confused Linda. She had slowly started to forgive Harry, given the fact he had yet to do more than smile in acknowledgement of Mafalda today.

Dudley had completed his ritual of counting the number of his presents and Harry's. It had become a habit for them to even out their presents each year if one had more than the other. A habit the partygoers did not really understand, but were aware of and put up with gracefully.

The only notable presents were Mafalda's gifts to Harry of several editions of Hogwarts, A History as well as A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot and a small book with the particularly odd title of Quidditch Through the Ages. Harry was careful to keep the titles hidden for the most part, although Remus and Petunia both noticed them. While Remus pretended not to have seen, Petunia's lips thinned slightly as she glanced to the redhead and her parents. But otherwise she said nothing.

The rest amounted to video games and models to put together, and in one case for Dudley, a turtle. There were, obviously, other gifts, but none that jumped out. Uncle Peter would provide the wizarding candy and flowers Harry received each year (admittedly, there were less and less as the years passed) later that night when they stopped at Uncle Remus' after the trip to the Leaky Cauldron.

Slowly, the guests started to trickle out, until only the gang and their parents remained. Dudley was gushing about one of his new video games to Piers and Harry while Linda and Mafalda argued over something. Seeming to think that now was as good time as any, Mafalda's father made his way over to the Dursleys.

"You've done a great job with your boys. My daughter tells me Harry is your nephew?"

Petunia nodded cautiously, not having forgotten what she saw Mafalda give the boy. While she had grown used to Peter and Remus and had remorse for how she had treated the Snape boy, that didn't mean she was automatically alright with the rest of the Wizarding World.

The man didn't seem to notice however and simply smiled to the both of them as Vernon spoke up.

"He was my wife's sister's son. She died when he was about a year and a half. It was touch and go at first, but we Dursleys take care of our own."

Vernon puffed up a little, proud despite himself at how safe his family was and how well they were growing. Harry was a little on the thin side, but both boys were active in football amongst other boyish activities, so it wasn't a troubling scrawny. Instead, the best word to describe Harry would be small and lithe, whereas Dudley was showing promise of more defined musculature.

The redheaded man smiled quietly and nodded.

"My daughter has grown quite attached to your boys, despite how young she is. You can understand I was surprised when we were invited to visit, and I owe you both thanks for the happiness you brought my little girl."

This, admittedly, caused even Petunia's offish stance to melt slightly. Part of her had always wanted a little girl, but she and Vernon had both agreed that it was best they focus on just the two they had. Raising one magical child and their own would be enough of a handful if Harry turned out anything like his mother.

"I must confess that when my girl told me she had met Harry Potter and his cousin, I was a bit… surprised," The redheaded man began again.

"You are one of them, then?" Petunia asked, a trifle coldly as her eyes narrowed.

The man looked surprised, before a content smile formed, glad they had picked up on his hint without him having to be overt.

"No, ma'am. I have no more than a lick of magic, although my siblings and parents and the rest of my family all do. I'm what 'they' call a squib. Magicless born to magic. As you can imagine I was rather… ostracized. I have not seen my family in years."

Petunia looked flustered, so Vernon decided to respond.

"So why bring it up?"

The man shrugged. "My daughter has shown signs of being a witch. Accidental magic and the like. How she got it without her mother or I having any is beyond me, but there you have it. At some point in the next few years, I'll be sending her to my relatives in the Wizarding World. But in the meantime, while she is around, I wanted to be honest with you about her nature. Particularly given how curious she has been lately."

Both Dursleys relaxed slightly at this.

Petunia cleared her throat. "Thank you for being so upfront with us, Mr… ?"

"Prewett. Pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley."

Nodding politely, he donned his hat and called to Mafalda before escorting both her and Linda outdoors.

At length, Piers had finally left as well, and Harry and Dudley had helped clean up the house and stow away their gifts into their separate bedrooms. As much as part of Harry wanted to sit down and read immediately (and as curious as he was as to why Mafalda had given him more than one copy of the same book), there was still more excitement to be had.

Both boys dressed quickly in clean clothes. Remus had informed Petunia that formal wear wouldn't be necessary as wizards as a whole had no concept of muggle wear at all, so it was best to just be comfortable.

For some reason, Peter had begged off coming. Neither Harry nor Dudley understood it, but he wanted to stay out of sight. Remus had agreed to take them, and at length, Petunia had agreed to go as well. It had been decades since she had even wanted to step foot in the place, but if her boys were going, then she would as well. Vernon, after quite a bit of thought, had decided to stay home. He had enough trouble resisting the urge to yell at stupid people in public that were normal. There was not any point in going to see a bunch of odd magic folks in dresses and such and trying to hold his temper. So instead, he and Peter would be having a guy's night.

The drive to Charing Cross Road was rather quiet. While both boys were excited, and Harry in particular was ecstatic, he was also nervous. This emotion carried over to Dudley, who kept casting glances to his cousin as the younger boy fidgeted.

Petunia was the only one to sniff in disapproval at the dinginess of the Leaky Cauldron – at least, once she could see it. Remus had advised Harry to put a hand on Dudley's shoulder, and he had done the same for Petunia. While the muggles streamed by ignorant of the pub's existence, the four trooped in quietly. Remus had been sure to arrange Harry's bangs so that they clearly covered his scar. There was not much else they could do at this point, so he left it at that.

When the barkeep, whom Remus introduced as Tom, asked if he could get anything for them, it was Petunia who took charge and stated they were simply going to the Alley. He had waved them off after that and Remus had led the group into a bricked in room. Quietly, he instructed Harry to pay close attention before he opened up the wall with a series of taps.

Petunia did her best not to jump as the wall curled itself in and vanished, for all intents and purposes. She had forgotten just how impressive it could be, although she still didn't understand the purpose. If only magical people get see the Leaky Cauldron, what chances were there of someone nonmagical stumbling into their shopping district?

While Petunia managed to calm herself by focusing on reasoning, the nine and almost nine year old boys both looked a little awed as well as curious.

"How did you do that? What's the stick?" Harry was careful to keep his voice quiet, so as not to draw undo attention from those around them as they were ushered into the alley.

"The stick?" Remus looked down at the two and almost laughed out loud at the clear amazement and honest curiousity. "It's called a wand, Harry. It's how we perform magic."

"But why use a wand?" Dudley decided to ask the question on both of their minds this time. "Why not just… make it happen, you know?"

"Very few wizards or witches can perform wandless magic. The debate over whether it is from lack of practice when children are young enough or lack of power has yet to be solved, but either way, I can count on my hand the number of people I know with that power. And even for them, it's only a few spells."

Harry piped up next, "What about the weird dress? And… whoa… that owl just took something off that guy…."

The two adults exchanged glances and came to a mutual decision to guide their party somewhere they could talk before exploring more. Given this was a birthday celebration, Remus quickly brought them over to Florean Fortescue's.

They ended up waiting in line behind a girl around their age with long, pale blond hair next to a woman who was the spitting image of her. The young girl was busy twirling a sunflower as her mother asked her what kind of ice cream she wanted. When she absentmindedly replied "Peanut butter should be nice, I think," she stunned her unwitting listeners.

"Peanut butter?" Harry mouthed to his cousin, "Plain peanut butter?"

When the mother simply nodded and ordered peanut butter, Dudley, Harry, and Petunia quietly revised their opinion that the young girl was a little dotty and changed it to 'the wizarding world' was. Remus, naturally, was the only one unfazed. Ordering a knickerbocker glory for both boys, and a simple vanilla (that Petunia had at length agreed to have) and a plain chocolate for himself, he guided them all to a secluded table.

"This is why I warned you two when the idea was first brought up just how different the wizarding world is from what you are use to." He smiled fondly to the two young boys. "It is another thing entirely to see it for yourself, though, isn't it?"

Noting that Petunia was lost in her own thoughts, Remus pressed forward.

"If you don't want to draw undo attention, I would recommend keeping your astonishment to yourselves as much as possible. To answer your earlier question about the owl…" he waited until he had their full attention. "First of all, owl post is the wizarding equivalent of mail. They deliver the paper as well as letters. What you probably saw was a delivery owl, they collect knuts – a form of wizarding currency – as payment and return it to their owners. Most witches and wizards who can afford one will have an owl of their own for personal mail."

"Knuts… so, like those weird coins you paid for the ice cream with?"

"I paid with sickles, but yes. Like that." Remus acknowledged his head towards Harry. Dudley, while he was listening, was more interested in eating his ice cream for questions right now. "There are knuts, sickles, and galleons. Knuts are the tiny bronze ones with holes in the middle like you saw the owl take. Sickles are slightly larger and silver. Galleons are larger still and golden."

He then proceeded to explain that there were 29 knuts to a sickle and 17 sickles to a galleon. When asked about the exchange rate between 'normal' money (Harry still refused to say muggle), Remus explained that, like most exchanges with foreign currency it tended to fluctuate, but a galleon was approximately equal to five pounds.

The two boys took this in with a slight frown as they tried to process everything.

"Remus… Lily did set aside money for his education, didn't she?" Petunia spoke suddenly, setting her spoon down. "Vernon and I may be doing better than we were nine years ago, but affording a Hogwarts' education would be rather difficult on our paychecks."

The sandy haired man nodded.

"Yes, there was a trust account set aside for that reason. All of his Hogwarts' fees as well as plenty of money to pay for supplies and, knowing James, some extra for potential prank material. Although I'm sure he only sold Lily on the idea by selling it as 'supplementary material'." He smiled fondly at the memory of his old friends. "He will officially gain access on his eleventh birthday as it is for Hogwarts. I believe Dumbledore holds his key at the moment in safekeeping, although if you were to owl, Petunia, he may send it to you."

Petunia nodded thoughtfully and Harry sighed in relief. For a moment, he had been afraid that he would not be able to attend.

"So what's Hogwarts like, anyway? How do I get there? How long are classes, and how long of a commute is it anyway?"

Harry had fired off all the questions fairly rapidly, leaving two vaguely uncomfortable looking adults. Taking a deep breath, Remus started to answer the questions one by one.

"Hogwarts is a boarding school, Harry. You get there by the Hogwarts Express which connects in London and will then take you to a station in Hogsmeade – the closest town and one of the few all wizarding towns left in England. Class times vary, but I would imagine the standard hour, two if it is a double period. As for the length… you leave at eleven and tend to get to Hogwarts near dark, so… considerable by rail but not insurmountable."

"It's a boarding school?" Harry blanched, unaware of how he had managed to miss that tidbit all this time. "But… what about Dudley? We do everything together."

Petunia suddenly found her bowl of ice cream to be very interesting. Her mind was racing at the moment, but there was too much to even formulate into words.

The tense atmosphere was broken by Dudley's announcement.

"No thanks, Harry. Means a lot, mate. But if I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times – nothing is worth wearing those dresses."

"They're called robes, Dud'," Harry corrected quietly, his mind distant before sharpening back into focus. "I don't want to go without you."

Dudley shook his head.

"You have to, ickle Harrikins," he teased him lightly. "Remember all that stuff we talked about?"

Slowly, Harry nodded, realizing that the importance of learning to defend himself with a madman out there somewhere with it in for him was important despite his own personal wants or feelings. With a sigh, he swirled his ice cream around feeling a little out of it now.

"You better hurry up and eat that before the Painted Pipskis find it," a dreamy voice interrupted them.

Four sets of eyes turned towards the pale blond haired girl of before, sunflower still clutched in hand.

"They love just melted ice cream, you know."