Chapter 3 - Lessons
Harry awoke very early in the morning and was ravenously hungry. Had he really slept the entire day away? Moody's potion was stronger than he imagined. Getting up, Harry crept over to the door and tested it. He had was sure that the Dursley's wouldn't have unlocked it and he was privately proud of the fact he locked it last night to cover his tracks. Once again jimmying the locks, Harry cautiously opened the door and looked down the hallway. Locking the door behind himself, he moved as silently as his body would allow, through the hallway, past the sleeping Dursleys, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. Food that is all he wanted. Opening the fridge he found a massive store of meats and cheeses and everything else his body craved. He ate until he couldn't fit in a single other piece of food.
Unfortunately, Harry had lost track of time. It was now early morning and he could hear the Dursleys coming down the stairs, groaning and stretching as they went. Harry panicked. While he wasn't afraid of his Uncle or Aunt anymore, he knew they could make his remaining stay even more miserable than normal. Looking about he realized his only option was to dart his old cupboard under the stairs. Making it just in time he heard them amble past the cupboard and enter the kitchen. When his Aunt Petunia opened the fridge he heard her exclaim, "My little Dudders must have come down for a midnight snack." Then becoming suspicious as she brought out the normal fixings for their breakfast she guarded asked Vernon, "Are you sure his door is locked?"
"Oh yes, checked it last night and again this morning. What he does in that room I don't know and I don't care. Just so long as he doesn't bother us." Vernon said confidently. Afterwards there was a long silence as his Aunt and Uncle went about their morning business. Then Harry overheard the most incredible news. Not only was Uncle Vernon going work, but so was Aunt Petunia! Apparently, with Dudley almost grown she was bored of being in the house alone and had gotten a job as a hair dresser. "Undoubtedly for the gossip" Harry thought sarcastically.
Shortly thereafter he heard the house door open and two sets of footsteps leaving. Harry's heart leapt as he realized that he would have the house all day. Going back upstairs, Harry unlocked his door and left it unlocked as he entered and lay onto the bed. Soon, he drifted off to sleep until he was awoken by the familiar sound of Dudley's morning workout. Not wanting to miss the opportunity to continue his experiment, Harry quickly went to the backyard. There was Dudley intently pounding away on the heavy bag again. This time, he wordless stopped and began removing the bag from the ring. Taking this cue, Harry put on the boxing gloves again and was surprised to find some head gear that he was almost sure wasn't there yesterday.
Closing his eyes momentarily because he knew what was to follow; Harry stepped into the ring and proceeded to get pummeled for the next hour. Throughout Dudley continued spewing his normal stream of invectives. However Harry began to notice that there were occasionally hints and what might be even construed as constructive criticisms buried in amongst the abuse.
Dudley left Harry much has he had the previous day. This time though Harry was prepared and took the barest of sips of the Auror's potion. He didn't want to sleep though another day, there was just too much to do. He would accept some creakiness in hopes of maybe getting some training. By the time Harry had gotten back into the house Dudley had left. He wondered briefly why Dudley hadn't told Uncle Vernon that his was out of his room yesterday. There was a sense that Dudley and Vernon weren't getting along like they used to and that might explain the omission.
Going back to his room Harry found Hedwig had return from his morning hunt with a mouse and copy of the Daily Prophet. It was filled with reports of murders and terror and not a single hopeful story. The Ministry had begun rounding up suspected Dark Wizards and other magical creatures whose loyalty wasn't "assured". Harry continued to read horrified that Scrimgeour was dismantling decades of Dumbledore's work. He finally threw the remaining pages into the dustbin unable to read any more. "You know they could have been our allies" calling out to no one in particular.
It was at that moment, the doorbell rang. Unsure of what to do Harry made his way to the front door and peered out of the peephole. It was Arabella Figg looking around nervously, while waiting for the door. Harry opened the door and allowed Arabella to hastily enter. Once the door was closed Harry asked, "Mrs. Figg, I didn't expect to see you today. How may I help you?"
"Ohh, charming as ever I see. Actually, I am here because Moody asked me to stop by. Apparently you need some training." Arabella said as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.
Harry stood there perplexed. "But you are a … I mean to say you… How can you... " Harry stammered not wanting to be rude.
"Teach you magic" Arabella finished. "That's just to show you how much you know about magic. Sure I can't do magic, but I can certainly use magic. Items that is" she added. "Headmistress McGonagall provided this box of magic objeccts and asked that I answer any questions you might have" Arabella said very proudly. Harry was unconvinced that Mrs. Figg could be of that great of help, but he took the box anyway and made for the dining room table.
Following him, she explained herself further, "How is it do you think that a squib like me gets to be part of the Order of the Pheonix you ask? Aren't they all supposed to be daring, powerful Wizards? Trained to counter Dark Wizards where ever they meet them? Hmmph! The reality is that a vast majority of work by the Order is gathering information and clues. Let the Aurors or the Magical Militia take on groups of ravaging Giants or Dark Wizards. What we do is find out what their plans are. Who is involved. Where they are. That sort of thing. Now a word of explanation, no magic must be performed by you or anyone else in this house or you will be blamed."
Harry remembered first meeting Dobby and the trouble that it caused. "Yes I know, but what good are magical trinkets if I can't use them?" Harry asked.
"Practically speaking, magic objects are magic spells that have already been cast and the effect just hasn't occurred yet. That's the trouble with most Wizards; they don't have the time for any of this stuff. They want results now. Ya know there was a time when no Wizard used wands and that they only became popular within the last couple hundred years or so" Arabella said matter of factly. Reaching into her handbag she pulled out a rather large dog-eared book whose title brightly exclaimed in white letters "A Squib's History of the Wizarding World: 782- Present, by Zinnous Howards" Harry could see that this book held a very dear place in Mrs. Figgs heart.
"Oh yes, I could have accepted my place like most squibs and gone to work on the farms, but I wanted more. Almost 30 years ago Dumbledore recruited me and I've never looked back." Her voice began to change and sounding more confident. Handing Harry the book she said "Here, it'll do ya some good to get some real history into you. Now lets get started before the Dursley's get back.
So began Harry's summer, his weekday mornings started with boxing Dudley. The sessions were becoming more intense and lasting longer; along with Dudleys taunts and criticisms. Oddly his door was being inexplicably unlocked each morning and he had heard Dudley telling his mother that it was him eating all the extra food at night. Harry didn't understand why Dudley was covering for him and he never asked in case his tentative ally would withdraw support if discovered.
His weekday afternoons were often spent at Mrs. Figgs or wandering around looking for a quiet spot to practice with the objects given to him. He had actually used a vacant house across the street until it sold to nice new couple. After that, Harry's research was more haphazard than he would have preferred. It was usually confined to the odd quiet moment during the day or late into the evening; if the Auror's potion didn't put him to sleep too early. It was far more interesting than he previously imagined. Each object was like a puzzle; they had buttons and switches and even functioned differently depending on in which hand you held them. So far Harry and gotten the healing stone to take care of his daily dose of black eyes and swollen lips and to remove his body order when he didn't want to take a shower. It was also helping to alleviate some of the muscle pain. In fact, one day he didn't even need to sip the Auror's potion to feel better.
Another cool object was a pair of glasses that made magic objects glow slightly red when looking through them. He was sure that with some more practice he would maybe even be able got get the color to change depending on the type of magic. He imagined charms would glow blue, transfiguration green, and so on. In fact, he was thinking of transforming these glasses to look like his normal ones as soon as he could do magic again. He had briefly toyed with the idea of just wearing them, but they were a hideous shade of gold with fake diamonds all around them. "Probably some witch in the 1700s thought they looked good then, Yuuuck!" Harry thought. In addition there were lots of items that seemed to have limited power, but relieved a Wizard for doing various basic tasks, such as magical compasses, and maps that followed you around, even one called a chain-owl message. If you were on a budget, you could fill out one letter multiple times and when it was delivered the right message would appear for the right reader. The owl would then deliver it to the next person and so on.
It was only his weekends and evenings that were truly wretched now. That is when Dursley's were home and they were beginning to suspect something. First Harry didn't seem nearly miserable enough. In those sparse times they actually noticed him, Harry was frequently quietly humming to himself or simply gazing off into the distance trying not to make eye contact. This infuriated Vernon to no end as he expected Harry to be more despondent at the thought of leaving them. "With all we have done for him, he should show it a more. I mean the locks are for his good and we feed him every day, what more could the ungrateful whelp want!" Vernon growled to his wife. She however had noticed something quite else. Dudley wasn't being as openly antagonistic of Harry in their presence. In fact, Dudley acted like he didn't even see Harry anymore. Harry was able to hide the last thing under the big bulky clothes he was forced to wear. Harry's muscles had begun to harden and he took on the vague countenance of a swimmer or runner.
So it went until the 28th of July. He was excited beyond anything he could express. "So this was it, this would be the last day I would ever be in this house." Harry joyfully thought. "Soon I will be at Number 12 Grimmauld and my life can really start." Feeling magnanimous, Harry sought out his Uncle to say his goodbyes. This had little to do with wanting to end his life with the Dursleys on a good note. Instead he believed that, as an adult, this is what he should do. Harry had carried the burden of adult responsibilities enough that he was convinced of the rightness of the action.
It was early evening, about an hour before his Uncle and Aunt would go to bed and he couldn't find them anywhere. Eventually he stepped out into the front yard, checking to see if the car was there. It was so they had to be somewhere close. Poking his head around the side yard, Harry finally spied the two of them together. Aunt Petunia was standing very erect and looking even more pensive than usual. Uncle Vernon was on the ground apparently checking out the foundation.
As Harry approached he could see that his Uncle Vernon was in a particularly ugly mood. From the snips of conversation he could overhear, a crack was forming in the foundation of Number 4, Privet Drive and looked to be a very expensive crack at that. Steeling himself, Harry strode up to Uncle Vernon who was still on the ground, stuck out his hand, and exclaimed, "I am leaving this evening, never to return, and I wanted to shake you hand goodbye."
Vernon glared at the offered hand as if it was something filthy. Already colored red from the exertion and frustration of examining the foundation he rose up from the ground, fists bundled, and launched in to a tirade, "That's right! Use us up and throw us away! All those years we fed you the food from our very mouths, clothed you from the clothes on our backs, housed you from the sweat of our brow, and took care of each and every one of your whiney little needs! For all this what we do we get?! A handshake! A miserable little handshake from a miserable little ungrateful whelp! Well fine! Leave us, get out of here, and abandon us like you have abandoned everything else."
With every word Vernon's ham sized fists raised higher and began shaking.
Once started Vernon couldn't control himself and assaulted Harry with all the venom in his heart, "You drained every bit of life and love this family has every felt! You have destroyed my home, my health, and even turned my own son against me!!! I will strangle the life out of you with my bare hands!" Screaming Vernon leaped forward to grab Harry. A month and a half ago he may have actually gotten a hold of him, a month and a half ago Harry may have wanted him to. Not now. Harry easily sidestepped Vernon's charge and pulled out his wand.
Holding it threatening, Harry yelled at Vernon, "Oh no you don't old man! I have been beaten and bullied enough by you and I am never going to let it happen again. I leave here in three hours, I will no longer be underage in three days, so if you touch me again expect me three minutes after that!"
Seeing the wand immediately deflated Vernon. He hated and feared magic. Blustering in order to save what dignity he had left, Vernon ordered Harry to go to his room. Meanwhile, Petunia was looking around and seeing all the neighbors coming out of their houses to see what the commotion was. She pleaded with the both of them to get back into the house.
Harry no longer cared, but going to his room was no worse that standing out here. He spun on his heal and stormed into the house, up the stairs, and slammed the door with all his might. "To hell with them, to hell with them all" was all Harry could think.
About a hour before leaving Harry heard his door opening, thinking it might be Uncle Vernon coming to threaten him one last time he stood waiting for the door to completely open. Instead of his uncle it was Dudley. He looked angry enough to rip Harry's head off and his size and clenching hands indicated he was fully ready to. Filling the doorway Dudley seemed to be considering his options. Boxing had taught Dudley to approach an opponent cautiously. Stepping into the room he gauged whether he could reach Harry before Harry could get his wand out. Convinced that he could, Dudley took another step and raised one massive fist to Harry's head. Harry was genuinely frightened now, as he knew Dudley could pummel him into non-existence before Harry could respond with any spell. "Why didn't I learn more about wordless magic last year? The difference in time could have saved me" Harry chided himself.
"You didn't touch him, that's the only reason why you are still alive." Dudley said in the coldest voice he had ever heard. "Now go and never come back." After a moments pause, Dudley turned his massive frame around and stepped towards the door. Relieved Harry let go of the air in his lungs as a long sigh and lowered his eyes for a moment. In that incredibly small space of time, Dudley wheeled about and brought his fist within a fraction of an inch of Harry's face. Being caught completely off guard, Harry clumsily threw himself backward onto his bed.
"Made you flinch, you bleeding freak." Dudley said a deadly cold voice.
Then Dudley quickly stepped out the door, closing it forcefully behind him.
Ten minutes before leaving Harry had all his stuff ready and was holding the old tin can in anticipation of the familiar tug behind his navel. He also had his wand ready, in case there were any more visits from Dudley. An odd thought occurred to him, "I've never traveled via portkey with possessions and wonder if the trunk will actually be pulled along with me. Oh my gosh, what about Hedgwig?" Immediately dropping the portkey Harry quickly released Hedwig from his cage and instructed him to meet him at Number 22 Grimmauld. By the time Hedwig was out the window he turned to find Aunt Petunia uncomfortably standing inside his door. She cautiously closed the door and began to speaking in a nervous voice, "I have something that is yours. I should have given this to you a long time ago."
She opened up the sleeve of her sweater and pulled out an ancient looking envelope that had large looping handwriting on the outside. "This was left with you."
"Why give it to me know?" Harry asked hardly believing his eyes. "I'm leaving and it can't tell me anything I don't already know."
"Well" , continued Petunia in a nervous voice "its contents can never harm us again if you take it and go. Otherwise you may come back for it some day and I can't allow that to happen". Offering it, Harry stepped forward to accept it, but caught sight of the clock. He only had seconds before the portkey activate. Scooping down to grab the portkey, Harry changed direction as soon as it was firmly in his grasp. He could make it.
Ten…
Nine… almost there
Eight… I can feel it
Seven… Its in my hand
Six… I've got it!
Fiv… KABOOM!!!
Harry's door exploded inward slamming him back against wall and tossing Petunia to one side as the lights went out. The force of the blow was so hard that the portkey slipped from his grasp. Falling to the floor he saw horrible black skinned creatures with ghostly green eyes rushing into the room. They pinned him to the ground and he felt a sharp needle prick into the side of his neck. Immediately the room began to swim and fade. His last memory was of seeing the envelope a quarter of an inch from his grasp and being unable to reach out to grab it.