Chapter 4: Send Me On My Way
"I think that's her taxi," Miss Sayers said, a hint of sadness in her voice.
Tamisin's heart continued to do backflips. Today was the day she started her new life with Mrs. Arabella Figg. She was nervous, of course, but she was mostly excited; even if this wasn't the sort of family she had had in mind, she knew she was going to love it.
She had said a tearful goodbye earlier to Martha and Clarice Manning and her other friends, promising to write. Her teachers had shaken her hand yesterday after class; Olivia and her gang glared at her, but didn't try to provoke her any further.
The yellow cab pulled up to the curb, and Mrs. Figg hobbled out. "Good morning," she said, a smile spreading across her face. "Are you all set, Tamisin?"
Tamisin nodded. She couldn't believe this was happening.
"If you ever need anything, give us a call, okay?" Miss Sayers said as she hugged Tamisin. "Mrs. Figg has our number."
"Okay. Thank you for everything, Miss Sayers."
"Good luck, Tamisin."
The taxi driver loaded Tamisin's suitcase into the trunk, and Tamisin crawled into the backseat. She turned around and waved at Miss Sayers from the back window, and watched until both the orphanage and the owner had disappeared out of sight.
Little Whinging was a quiet little development, located right behind a roaring highway. The houses all looked the same: cute little cottages with shuttered windows. The streets were cobbled; the taxi bounced a bit as it drove over the stones.
Tamisin glanced out the window. She could see some children playing in front of the houses. She saw a rather plump-looking boy sitting in a yard, screwing up his pudgy face as he tried to figure out how to work a toy top.
"Dudley Dursley," Mrs. Figg said suddenly.
"Huh?" Tamisin tore her eyes away from the boy.
"That's Dudley Dursley," Mrs. Figg continued. "He and his parents live on Privet Drive, a few streets down from us." She shook her head. "Vile folks if I ever saw any. Terribly ordinary, but horribly nasty, as well."
Tamisin shrank in her seat. She hadn't even stepped foot in her new house, and already she had someone to fear.
"Don't you worry," Mrs. Figg said, reading Tamisin's thoughts. "I don't speak with them much. I know much more about their nephew than I do them."
The taxi cab turned onto Wisteria Walk, and pulled up to Number 7. The taxi driver unloaded Tamisin's suitcase from the trunk, and Mrs. Figg handed him some money before he drove away.
Tamisin stood on the driveway, staring up at the thatched roof in wonder.
This was her new home.
She picked up her suitcase. "What did you mean by their nephew?"
"Who? The Dursleys? Are we still on that?" She didn't say it rudely; it was more curious than anything.
"I was just wondering why their nephew lives with them."
"They look after Mrs. Dursley's sister's son," Mrs. Figg explained as she walked to the front door. "His poor folks died in a car crash a few years back. Of course, the Dursleys find him repulsive, and so they leave him with me when they go out and do something fun. God forbid the poor boy be allowed to enjoy himself."
Tamisin nodded, still confused about the Dursleys. Why would they hate their nephew so much? And why didn't they want him to have fun?
"Well, here we are," Mrs. Figg said as she opened the front door. "Welcome home."
Tamisin poked her head in. The front hall wasn't very big, but there were stairs that led to the upper level. The wallpaper was a pretty pink floral design, and the furniture in the living room looked old, but lovely at the same time.
And the cats. They were everywhere: on the stairs, on the windows, on the couch. They all seemed to be studying her with a curious sort of look. She tried not to let them bother her.
"I'll introduce them later," Mrs. Figg said. "Right now I think we should get you up to your room."
Tamisin's new room came with a bed, a wardrobe, and a dresser with a vanity mirror. It was a sickly shade of beige, but Mrs. Figg explained that she could paint it whatever color she wanted. There were a few books by the bed, and Tamisin couldn't wait to start reading them. They all looked so interesting…but she knew that she'd have to wait.
Although the whole house smelled of cabbage, Tamisin didn't mind. She learned that it was because of the special shampoo the cats needed when they were bathed. It was a special concoction that kept their fur shiny, and even Mrs. Figg admitted that the smell was sometimes bothersome.
The first night was uneventful. Tamisin fell asleep, and the next morning found some of the cats curled up to her. She had to wait until they woke up until she was able to move.
She couldn't remember a lot of the cats' names, but she learned that Mrs. Figg bred them for a living. There were the ordinary tabby cats, and then there were breeds Tamisin had never heard of before, let alone pronounce.
Because Tamisin wasn't going to be starting school until the following week, she happened to be at home when the doorbell rang one beautiful Wednesday afternoon. Mrs. Figg hobbled over to the door to see who the visitor was.
Tamisin sat perfectly still as four figures entered the house. One of them was the chubby boy, Dudley Dursley. He toddled over to the couch and plopped down, clearly unhappy. He reminded Tamisin of a pig; she fleetingly thought of Olivia.
There was a man and a woman, who were talking to Mrs. Figg in the entryway. The man was big, with a walrus mustache and little, beady eyes; Tamisin didn't know how he could see, there was so much fat around them. The woman, on the other hand, was skinny, and had a sharp nose. She looked like she'd just entered a barnyard, from the way she eyed the cats that slinked around her.
There was another boy who stood directly behind them. Tamisin couldn't believe it at first, but he looked just like the boy from her mirror dreams. He had the same wild black hair, the same bright green eyes, the same round glasses. His bangs were too thick for her to see if he had the lightning on his forehead.
"Tamisin, dear, please come meet the neighbors." Mrs. Figg had on her formal tone, the one she used when trying to be polite.
Tamisin stood, scattering two cats who had been lying on her lap. She cautiously walked over to the three adults, eyeing the two strangers warily.
"Tamisin, this is Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, from Privet Drive."
Mr. Dursley grunted his hello, an animalistic sound. Mrs. Dursley sniffed before saying "Good afternoon," in a snooty sort of voice.
"They're going to spend the afternoon with us."
"And he had bloody well behave himself," Mr. Dursley said darkly, shooting a glare to the little boy behind him.
"Duddykins, come say hello!" sang Mrs. Dursley. Dudley slid off the couch and waddled back over to his parents, eyeing Tamisin with disdain.
"Look, Dudley, you have yourself a new playmate!" Mrs. Dursley tittered.
Dudley turned away, clearly intent on leaving as soon as possible. Tamisin didn't mind; she was rather frightened of this human swine.
"Well, don't act like strangers! Make yourself at home!" Mrs. Figg tossed over her shoulder as she made her way to the kitchen. "I'll go put the kettle on and be right back. Tamisin, why don't you show our guests to the living room?"
Tamisin led the group to the living room, shyly peering at the small boy. He wore clothes that were much too big for him; they were covered in dirt and mud.
"Why did we ever agree to this?" Mr. Dursley whispered loudly. "You know how I feel about these mangy things." He wrinkled his small nose at a cat who had started to rub against his leg.
"She insisted," Mrs. Dursley hissed back. "I wasn't about to turn her down, especially when she's so intent on showing off her new…" She trailed off, shooting a look at where Tamisin sat.
She tried to ignore their hushed tones, turning instead to look at the small boy on the floor. He seemed indifferent to everything around him: the cats, his aunt and uncle, even Tamisin's gaze. She cocked her head, thoroughly confused.
"Mummy, I want to go home!" Dudley whined. "My television programs come on soon!"
"Now, now, Duddykins," cooed Mrs. Dursley. "We'll be home in time for you to watch them."
"But I don't want to be here!" He stamped his foot, which shook the coffee table. Tamisin curled deeper into the armchair she was sitting in.
Mrs. Figg shortly returned, and occupied the Dursleys' attentions. Tamisin was very grateful; she didn't think she could handle another episode of Dudley and his monster foot. She climbed down off the chair and sat next to the small boy.
"Hi," she said quietly.
"Hello," the boy answered.
"I'm Tamisin." She stuck out her hand.
The boy leaned back, clearly wary of her. She frowned.
"What's wrong?"
The boy looked from her hand to her face. "What are you doing?"
"When people meet, they shake hands," she explained. "At least…that's what the grown-ups do. I think it's silly, but…"
She trailed off as the boy slipped his hand into hers and shook it. A sudden calm overcame her. She blinked, startled, as they let go.
"I'm Harry. Harry Potter."
"Nice to meet you, Harry."
"Nice to meet you, Tamisin."
She giggled suddenly.
"What?" She couldn't tell if he was frowning; his bangs covered his eyebrows. "Why are you laughing?"
"I don't know," she answered honestly. "Maybe it's because I was a little scared of you a minute ago."
"You? Scared of me?" Harry's eyes grew wide behind his glasses. "Why?"
Tamisin couldn't tell him about her dream, so instead she said, "I think it's because I haven't met anyone in the neighborhood yet. I've only been here a few days."
"Oh. Is Mrs. Figg your grandma?"
"No. She adopted me."
"Adopted? What's that?"
"She signed a bunch of papers that said I get to live with her," Tamisin explained as she absentmindedly stroked a cat.
"Just like that?"
"Uh-huh. They had to come to her house and make sure she could take care of me first."
Harry nodded, amazed. "Do you think maybe someone would adopt me?"
She cocked her head. "Why?"
"My aunt and uncle don't like me," Harry said. "And neither does Dudley. They make me sleep in the cupboard under the stairs."
It was Tamisin's turn to widen her eyes. "That sounds horrid!"
"It's not bad…I just wish I lived with someone who liked me."
"Mummy!" shrieked Dudley. Tamisin suddenly noticed him towering over the two of them. "Harry's saying mean things about us again!"
"Potter!" barked Mr. Dursley. "What have we told you about that?"
Harry didn't say anything. He looked at the carpet, suddenly very interested in it.
"Potter…" Mr. Dursley's voice had a warning tone in it.
Tamisin glared at Mr. Dursley, then at Dudley, who had gone over to sit triumphantly between his parents. How could they be so rude to Harry? What kind of a family was this? She wished something would fall on them, to knock some sense into them…
Quite suddenly, the curtain rod of the front window came loose and landed with a loud SMACK on all three Dursleys. She blinked. How had that happened? She couldn't have done it…curtain rods didn't move by themselves…
Tamisin cringed as Mr. Dursley's face turned a brilliant shade of violet. Mrs. Dursley went absolutely pale as she pursed her lips. Dudley whimpered a bit, rubbing the back of his head. All eyes turned to Harry, who was still looking at the floor.
"I believe it's time to go," Mr. Dursley said stiffly, rising and practically knocking the table over.
"But you just got here!" Mrs. Figg protested. "I'm so terribly sorry. I must get that fixed—"
"Come along, Dudley," Mr. Dursley said, ignoring her.
The Dursleys clambered into the front hall, pulling on their jackets. Tamisin saw Mr. Dursley take Harry roughly by the shoulder. "I'll deal with you when we get back," he sneered.
As soon as they left, the teapot whistled. Mrs. Figg and Tamisin had tea with their usual entourage of cats, silence hanging in the air like a storm cloud.
But during that silence, Tamisin thought of several things. She thought of the curtain rod, she thought of the Dursleys, but mostly, she thought of Harry, the little boy with the lightning on his head.
Her new life was going to be a strange one, indeed.