Harry

Little Whinging, Surrey

The walk back to Number 4 had been an informative one. He'd learned that the young witch with him was named Gemma Farley, that she'd graduated Hogwarts his third year, and that she had a younger brother his age still attending Hogwarts. He'd also learned that she along with Mrs Figg was a member of the Order of the Phoenix, a group formed and headed by Dumbledore, with the sole purpose of fighting Voldemort and his followers. Apparently members of the Order had been taking turns watching him all summer, worried that something, like what happened tonight, might transpire. She'd told him that the Ministry and the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge or 'that incompetent gormless plonker' as she called him, were refusing to acknowledge Voldemort's return. They were doing their best to make Dumbledore look completely barmy and labelling Harry as a mentally unstable attention-seeker. That bit was just thrilling to hear. He also found out that the crack of apparition he'd heard earlier had been one Mundungus Fletcher, also a member of the Order of the Phoenix who'd, left his shift hours too early, something to do with stolen cauldrons… he hadn't really heard. What he did hear was that Mundungus is apparently a 'dodgy cogder who cocks-up everything' and that when she got her hands on him she had a list of rather creative charms she was going to test out on his bullocks. As a fellow member of the male species he almost felt bad for this Mundungus bloke, almost but not really.

They'd gone over what they were going to tell the Ministry, she told him that if things got tricky she would handle it and he was not to contradict her no matter what she might say. He wasn't sure he liked that well at all, but after what she told him about the Ministry calling mentally unstable, he thought it best to agree. For his part Harry, filled her in as best he could on his life with the Dursley's, and what to expect once they reached Number 4. He got the feeling that she didn't fully believe him or that she thought he was exaggerating, but she would find out all too soon just how foul his relatives really were.

He hadn't even had time to close the front door when his aunt spotted Dudley, who was still immobilised and floating, and began shrieking in a manner that would make a banshee proud.

"What have you done?" she screamed at him. "What did you do to him?"

Gemma didn't even seem to notice the yelling as she levitated Dudley onto the sofa in the lounge before removing the last two enchantments she'd placed on him. Harry was still standing in the hall where his aunt had frozen momentarily in shock. She stared at Dudley, who still looked slightly deranged, and let out another ear-piercing scream before rushing to her sons side.

"Vernon!" she called, "Vernon, get down here. They've done something to Dudley."

She was on her knees now, in front of the sofa clinging to Dudley. Grabbing his face, then his shoulders and finally hugging him, before she started the whole cycle over again.

His uncle Vernon came barrelling down the stairs with more agility than someone his size should possess. He pushed Harry aside as he lumbered to his wife's side.

"What is it Petunia? Has that boy done something awful again?" Vernon asked.

Harry caught Gemma's eyes across the room, wondering why his aunt and uncle hadn't noticed her yet. When her eyebrows tweaked up and she mouthed 'That boy' at him, he just raised his own eyebrows in response; he'd told her they were like this. He wasn't quite sure what set it off, but suddenly his uncle rounded on him violently grabbing his arms and holding so tight it was sure to bruise.

"What did you do boy?" Vernon snapped, "You've done something to him, used your freakishness on him haven't you? I knew it! I knew you'd snap one day, mental just like the rest of your lot…"

"I haven't done anything to him,'' he spat back.

"OH YES YOU HAVE!" Vernon thundered. "How else would he get like this? You've finally driven him loopy. YOU WILL FIX THIS! YOU WILL FIX HIM RIGHT NOW!" By the end of the tirade Vernon had begun to shake him forcefully. He could still hear his aunt wailing in the background and Dudley's grunting was getting louder as if he was becoming agitated. Harry was getting ready to shout back when Gemma spoke up.

"Your nephew is telling the truth Mr Dursley, he is in no way responsible for the condition your son is in," she said carefully and he was very grateful for her timing because his uncle stopped shaking him and let go of his arms immediately.

"And just who are you?" Vernon asked rudely. "Are you one of them as well?"

He was all puffed up, pushing his chest out, and his face was the colour of a beet. Harry knew that this was his uncles intimidating posture, but it didn't seem to affect Gemma at all.

"I'm sorry, one of what?" she asked. Her voice was calm and quiet, with the same tone it had earlier when Dudley called her a freak. It looked to him like she was waiting for his uncle to say something, and he was very certain his uncle would not like the response he got if he called Gemma a freak. However, he was just as certain that he would like Gemma's reaction very much.

"One of his lot," Vernon said pointing at him.

"I'm afraid, Mr Dursley, I haven't the slightest idea what you mean by his lot," she replied. "I am however, a witch if that's what you are alluding to," she finished with a smirk.

His uncle's reply was cut off when his Aunt Petunia's incessant wailing got suddenly louder. Dudley was just beginning to find his voice again although the only thing he was saying sounded a lot like 'mumma… mumma… mumma.' Fat lot of sense that made, but his attention was drawn away when a great grey owl came flying through the open window. It swooped across the room, dropped a single letter at his feet, and promptly left. As he bent to pick up the owl his aunt seemed to get her wits back.

"What did you do to my son?" she asked looking at Gemma. "You brought him into the house floating in the air."

"I didn't do anything to your son. He was unable to walk, so I assisted him in getting home." She didn't elaborate any further; instead she looked right at him. "Who's the letter from Potter?"

"The Ministry," he answered staring at the parchment in his had like it was about to jump up and bite him at any moment.

"Well… read it!" she barked at him.

"Right…" he said, but just as he opened the wax seal his uncle snatched the letter from his hand and began to read it out loud.

Dear Mr Potter,

We have received intelligence that, twenty two minutes ago, at thirty-five minutes past eight this evening, you performed the Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of a Muggle.

You have already received an official warning for an offense under section 13 of the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy. As this is not your first violation we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 A.M. on August 12th

This is a severe breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and it has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand.

.

Hoping you are well,

Yours sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

Improper Use of Magic Office

Ministry of Magic

"Expelled! You've been expelled." Vernon was so giddy that he was practically dancing. "You said you didn't do anything to Dudley, well it says right here that you've done it. Get out of that one boy! I've got you now."

"NO! I'VE TOLD YOU, I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING TO DUDLEY!" he knew that he probably shouldn't be yelling but at this point he couldn't help it. He was panicking, they'd expelled him and they were going to snap his wand. He had to get out of there, before the Ministry officials came to snap his wand, because they couldn't snap his wand if they couldn't find it.

"LIAR!" Vernon bellowed, "It says right here that you used this Patronus thing."

But he wasn't listening; he needed to get his trunk, his broom, and Hedwig and leave.

He started towards the door but he was grabbed roughly and thrown to the floor.

"Where do you think you're going boy?" his uncle roared.

"I'm leaving," he said scrambling to his feet and trying to push past his uncle.

"Oh no you're not!" Vernon raged grabbing him and slamming him into a wall.

"Vernon!" Petunia yelled. When her husband looked at her she shifted her eyes and he followed her gaze to the other woman in the room. Gemma's eyes were narrowed to slits, her brow was creased, and her wand was out pointed right at Vernon's chest. Harry watched as she took a deep breath and her nostrils flared.

"I would suggest, Mr Dursley," she seethed, "That you not put your hands on your nephew again." But Vernon was the only one in the room that failed to notice her barely concealed anger.

"Don't you point that thing at me! I'm not stupid; I know you can't use it here. I know the rules."

Gemma walked forward until her wand was touching his uncle's chest. "I am a fully trained adult witch Mr Dursley, and those rules do not apply to me. I can use magic any time I see fit, and I will not hesitate to use magic on you. So kindly sit down and shut your vile mouth." Gemma hissed.

Vernon looked like he might argue further but Petunia, who was clearly frightened spoke up from the sofa. "Vernon, please sit down."

"Will someone please tell me what is wrong with my son?" she asked after Vernon sat down.

He didn't have time for this; he needed to be long gone before anyone from the Ministry showed up.

"Potter, tell them what happened," said Gemma.

"Fine," he said with a sigh. "It's like I said, I didn't do anything to Dudley, and neither did she. We were walking back from the play park and we were attacked by Dementors."

"What the ruddy hell are Dementors?" his uncle interrupted.

"They guard Azkaban, the wizarding prison," his aunt Petunia whispered.

He exchanged a look of shock with Gemma before looking back to his aunt.

"You know what Dementors are?" he asked.

"Yes, I heard that awful boy telling her about them once."

"You mean my father?"

"No not your father, a boy from the neighbourhood. His name was…"

Just then another owl sored through the window and dropped a letter on top of his head and swooped back out. He just stuffed the letter in his pocket, probably just a reminder that his wand was about to be snapped.

"So these demented thingies are real then? What do they do?" Vernon asked but Gemma answered before he could.

"They are very real. They are among the foulest creatures that inhabit the earth. They infest the filthiest places, they revel in despair, and they will drain every bit of peace, happiness, and hope out of the anything around them... Around a Dementor every good feeling and happy memory you've ever had will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough kiss you and you will be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life."

"Kiss you?" Vernon asked with a snort.

"That's when they suck a person's soul out of their mouth," he supplied, but perhaps he should have left that bit out. As soon as he said it his aunt burst into tears and started screaming.

"Oh my poor Dudders, what have they done to you? Oh god!" she wailed.

"So these dementa-whatsits sucked out his soul?" his uncle asked looking like he was ready to pounce.

"NO!" he snapped, "that's what the Patronus was for, it's the only thing that stops them. Dudley's still got his soul." His uncle heard but his aunt was too busy sobbing.

"Oh my poor Diddykins, my baby… My poor Dudley." She just kept getting louder and louder until Gemma finally snapped.

"Oh for the love of… GODRIC'S WILTED BRAINS! Someone shut that woman up!" she shouted.

"Now you see here…" Vernon started to say but he stopped abruptly when she pointed her wand at him again.

Harry watched as she walked up to the sofa and bent her knees so that she was eye to eye with his crying aunt. "Mrs Dursley," she said very gently several times until she finally had the other woman's attention. "Your son hasn't been kissed, he just in a bit of shock. Do you have any chocolate in the house?"

"Chocolate?" his aunt answered looking confused.

"Yes, chocolate. It will help I promise. Go find some and have him eat it."

Dudley was successfully eating the chocolate and beginning to look a little more like himself when Vernon spoke again. "Where's this prison those things guard?" he asked.

"In the middle of the North Sea, why?" Gemma answered.

"What were they doing in Surrey then?"

"I don't know," said Harry, "the only thing I can think is that someone sent them after me."

"I still don't know if I buy it," said his uncle.

"He's telling the truth dad," said Dudley finally regaining the ability to speak, "it was those things. I couldn't see them but I could feel them it felt like… like…"

"You'd never be happy again," finished Harry and Gemma at the same time.

"Yeah," said Dudley nodding his head and shuddering.

"So who would send those things after you?" his aunt asked.

"Voldemort," was his immediate response. It was very strange saying that and not having everyone in the room flinch. The only one who reacted was Gemma, he saw her jaw clinch and she stiffened slightly.

"Who?" his uncle asked.

"Lord Voldemort!" he barked causing Gemma to jump.

"Potter…" Gemma cautioned but he just looked at her like she'd lost her mind.

"Wasn't he the one that?" he aunt asked.

"That killed my parents? Yeah."

"I thought that you got rid of him that night."

"Well he's found a way to come back," he said watching is uncle closely. The one squeaky wheel in Vernon's head seemed to be turning at maximum speed.

"So this Volde-warts guy…" hi uncle started to say.

"VOLDEMORT!" he interrupted shouting, "HIS NAME IS VOLDEMORT!" And this seemed to be the last straw for Gemma.

"DON'T SAY HIS NAME! Merlin's pants Potter, call him something else – anything else, but please stop saying that wretched name!" she yelled.

"So let me get this straight," said his uncle, "the truly evil bloke that killed your parents has come back to life and he's after you."

"That's the basics of it yeah." He replied.

"Right then," his uncle said as he stood and pointed at the front door. "Get out."

"What?" he and Gemma asked at the same time.

"You heard me - OUT! Get out of my house," Vernon bellowed so loudly that even Petunia and Dudley jumped. "GET OUT! OUT! I should've done this years ago, I knew from the start that we should have shipped you off to some orphanage! Owls flying in and out at all hours, exploding puddings, the lounge destroyed by those nutters last year, that brute that gave Dudley a tail, you blowing up Marge and that blasted flying car - I WANT YOU OUT OF MY HOUSE! NOW! I've had it! I won't have you endangering my wife and son, you're not staying here any longer if some murderer is after you, you're not bringing that down on us."

As soon as his uncle finished talking he felt the air around him shift. It wasn't an ominous shift, the way it felt just before the Dementors attack, it was just different like something had changed. When he looked at Gemma her brow was frowned again and he wondered if she'd noticed it too.

"Go get your things Potter," she said suddenly. "Make sure to pack everything you want to bring, we won't be coming back." When he stood rooted to the spot she snapped at him, "NOW! And be quick about it."

He ran from the room and took the stairs two at a time rushing to his bed room. He took Hedwig out of her cage and told her to find Ron and wait with him and began to pack the rest of his things. It took him less than five minutes to pack and drag everything he was taking back to the sitting room. When he entered the room she told him to wait for her with his things in the back garden. As he was walking out the door he paused to hear her parting words to the Dursley's.

"You are the only family he has, the only family he's got left and this is how you have treated him. I have met some vile people in my life Mr Dursley, and you are among the worst. Mrs Dursley, if this is how you treat your family, your own blood, then you are surely one of them most disgusting woman I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. He saved your son's life tonight; your son who I suspect has never even shown him a shred of kindness. Yet without a second thought he saved his miserable life, at a great risk to his own future I might add, and yet you don't even send so much as a thank you his way. You should be ashamed of yourselves. I hope you understand what you've done, the enchantments that protected your home that protected you, are no longer in place. Those people that are after him will come after you, now that you are no longer safe and you have no one to blame but yourselves. There is one thing I would like you both to remember, you reap what you sow…"

When she reached his side in the garden she silently shrunk Hedwigs cage and his trunk, stuck them in her pocket, took hold of his arm, and with a slight 'POP' they were gone.

They appeared a moment later in a small garden. She quickly let go of his arm, and started walking to the door.

"Isn't this Mrs Figg's house? Why are we at Mrs Figg's house? Are you going to leave me here?" he asked.

She looked over her shoulder at him before raising her hand to knock on the door. "Of course not, I am here to enquire about a kitten remember? If that was my whole reason for being in the area tonight I ought to end up with one don't you think?"

"Do you even actually want a cat?"

"No I don't, not at all actually. I'll hand it off to my brother, he can keep it," she replied just as the door swung open.

"Oh there you are dear, came to get that kitten then?" Mrs Figg asked stepping aside to let her in, noticing Harry standing in the background. "Hello Harry, I didn't see you there."

Gemma stepped inside the house and gestured for him to follow her. "Potter received notice that the Ministry intends to expel him form Hogwarts. Have you any word from Dumbledore or the Order?" she asked Mrs Figg.

"An owl came just a couple of minutes ago. Dumbledore is at the Ministry now trying to fix this mess," Mrs Figg answered looking at him. "Why is Harry with you, dear? I thought he was to stay at his relative's house."

"He won't be going back to that house," she said firmly.

"Why ever not? Dumbledore won't like this one bit," Mrs Figg replied.

"No I don't suppose he will. There's nothing he can do about it now though. Potter won't be going back for a number of reasons. To begin with those people are the absolute worst sort of Muggles. That swine of a man accosted Potter more than once in my presence, if he is willing to use brute force and violence in front of a stranger what will he resort to when no one is around to see? Most importantly they have kicked Potter out. Or I should say that fat lout has kicked him out."

"Well that settles that I suppose. I agree with you and I did tell Dumbledore that they really were awful," Mrs Figg said with a determined nod. "Now come along the kittens are in the sitting room."

They were once again in the garden and she was preparing to Apparate them to their next and hopefully final destination of the night. The kitten, a tiny thing with amber coloured eyes and patchwork fur, would complicate things slightly. The little thing had taken a liking to him and was perched on his shoulder purring, but Gemma said she wasn't entirely sure about apparating with an animal as she'd never done it before. He watched as conjured a small animal carrier.

"We need to put her in here. I am not sure how apparating will affect her. And the last thing I need to deal with right now is a splinched cat," she said.

"Oh no, I'm not doing it," he replied shaking his head vigorously. "Animals hate those things. She likes me right now and if I put her in there she'll hate me."

"Fine, give her to me," she uttered with a roll of her eyes.

It took a bit of struggling, some very threatening hissing, and more than a few scratches, but Baset, as she'd been named, was now yowling in displeasure from the safety of the carrier. Gingerly taking hold of the handle and grasping his arm she apparated them away with a small pop.

They landed in an open area, it was dark but he could see rolling hills in every direction he looked, the ground was covered in grass and large patches of a shrub that came about half way to his knees. He squinted his eyes and bent his neck to look a bit closer, heather, it was heather. With a second look he discovered that all of the hills were covered in large patches of heather. Without saying a word she started walking towards a large stone wall in the distance.

"Where are we?" he asked as he caught up.

"North Yorkshire, more specifically on the North York Moors not far from the Muggle village of Robin Hood's Bay," she smiled and pointed past the wrought iron gates in the stone wall to a very large house that must be several hundred years old. "This is Stonewick, my home."

"Is this really your house?" he asked incredulously. "I – I uh… what I mean is you look awfully young to have a place like this," he asked stumbling over his words. It was made completely of stone as far as he could see and it had at least two dozen chimneys. It had to be the oldest house he'd ever seen.

She raised one eyebrow and smirked at him shaking her head. "Straight to the point I see. Tell me Potter, do you always let whatever you're thinking come flying out of your mouth with no thought of the consequences?" She asked laughing slightly. "Yes, it is really my house Potter. It dates back to the fifteenth century. This house belonged to my father; it has been in his family for many generations. It's actually not wholly uncommon for older magical families to own large properties like this, when your ancestors have lived in the same place for over a thousand years each with an expected life span of over a hundred years it's not overly difficult to accumulate some wealth. It's not hard to hold on to property like this either. We don't pay the taxes a Muggle would on the property. Magic and a couple of house-elves keep the place in top shape, whereas I imagine a Muggle would spend quite a lot on the upkeep. This isn't much tough compared to some of the others, my mother lives in a palace in Suffolk, an actual palace, I'm not exaggerating, and it makes Stonewick seem paltry in comparison. The Malfoy family home, Malfoy Manor is huge, much larger than this, but the Malfoy's are probably the richest family in the country. The Black family used to own a number of properties before their line started to die off, the Longbottom family own a spectacular place in Cornwall. The Prince family used to have a magnificent place in Northumberland, before their line died out without an heir. Your family, the Potter side that is, comes from Wales if memory serves. Country homes are very popular among the older families because of the amount of privacy they afford. If you're a good distance from your nearest neighbour there's a much lower chance that they will see something unusual."

"Oh… but what about the Weasley's they're purebloods?"

"Pureblood doesn't equal rich Potter. I believe that at one time the Weasley line was rather well off, but it's always been a large family. They have seven children now which is unusual even among magical families in modern times, but there was a time in history where it was not that unheard of. You see, when a family has a reasonable amount of wealth that they then distribute among their numerous heirs, and then they repeat that with the next generation of heirs… and so on, you get to a point where there is not much left. That's the Weasley family," she said with a shrug and continued. "It's gone that way with many families, the Parkinson's, they still have a nice home but they don't live in the grandeur they previously enjoyed. The Greengrass family has been able to rebuild some of the wealth lost over the years. In reality there are only a handful of very wealthy families left, a common misconception though, many people assume that old blood equates to wealth. I suppose I have a rather unusual opinion about it all, maybe money doesn't really matter much to me because I will always have more than enough, but I don't see it as all important. Mr Weasley may not make a lot of money, but his family is happy and provided for. Could he make more money doing something else? Of course, but he has a job that interests him, and he does something he truly enjoys. That is infinitely more important that money."

"Money can't buy happiness," he replied, "Muggles say that all the time. I always thought it was a rubbish saying. I mean, anyone who says that has never had to wear second hand clothes or be taunted for being poor. Ron's always embarrassed about his family's lack of money. You should have seen his dress robes last year they were awful. Don't tell him I said that though."

"Don't mistake what I am saying Potter, I know that money makes some things easier, and without a doubt it will buy nicer things. Do nicer things really make a difference though, when you don't have a mother and father that love you? When you haven't got any real friends? You can be just as miserable surrounded by expensive things as you can surrounded by cheap things."

He didn't bother replying, instead he decided to nod. She made a very good point. After growing up with the Dursley's he would probably trade every last gallion he had for a real family.

As they approached the gates she told him that they needed to be touching or her wards wouldn't let him through. He offered her his arm as the gates opened and they walked through with no problem.

"What would happen to someone if they tried to walk through without the wards admitting them?" he asked curiously.

"They'd be sucked in and spit back out somewhere else," she answered.

"That's it? Couldn't they just come right back and try again?"

"Sure, after they made their way back from the South American jungle," she replied with a devilish smirk.

"That's where they get spit back out?" he asked incredulous and she nodded still smirking. "That's brilliant!"

"My Grandmother thought of it, she was really good with wards. I've been trying to find a way to tweak them, so they'll take the trespassers wand as well. So far I haven't had any luck though."

Once they were inside main entry way they were quickly greeted by a loud crack signalled the arrival of a house-elf.

"Mistress Gemma," the little creature said with a sweeping bow, it reminded him of Dobby somewhat, well in appearance anyway. The same ears and nose, even the bright green eyes, but this house-elf did not have Dobby's nervous demeanour. "Young Master is not yet home and it is being very late."

"Oh how you do love tattling on him, don't you Cricket? What time is it anyway? I'm afraid I've lost track."

"It is being five minutes after ten Mistress that is why Cricket is saying something. Young Master is very late," the elf answered and noticed they were not alone. "OH! Mistress is having a guest. Where is Crickets manners going? Is you wanting tea for your guest Mistress? Cricket has fresh biscuits in the kitchen that he is just finished baking."

"Tea and biscuits sounds lovely Cricket. We will be in my sitting room upstairs, bring it up there. Let me know when my wayward brother arrives home, actually…" she said shaking her head. "You know what house he's at do you not?"

"Oh course Mistress he is being at…"

She cut the little elf off. "Have Shammer pop by and make sure he's alright. Tell him not to say anything, just ask the other elves if everything is okay and then let me know as soon as the Young Master arrives home."

"Yes Mistress," he replied with another bow then there was a loud crack and he was gone.

"This way Potter, there is much we need to discuss."

After making their way through the large house, two staircases, three long hallways and two left turns later, they were seated in a large elegant sitting room sipping tea with a plate of biscuits on the table between them. He noticed the décor was fancy, if not a little old fashioned. Traditional English and French antiques by the look of the furniture he'd seen. The sitting room was done in shades of blue with light yellow mixed in, with lots of stripes and floral patterns. Over all it was very girly, like something his aunt ooh'd and ahh'd over in those home décor magazines she read. He could see a connected bedroom through an open set of doors and assumed that it Gemma's, since she'd called this her sitting room.

Baset had fallen asleep in her carrier and was finally quiet, which was a good thing because Gemma said she was not inclined to let the kitten loose to wander about her rooms. Cricket popped in briefly to tell her that everything was fine with her brother and asked if they needed anything more with their tea. Once that was settled she turned her attention to him.

"Go ahead Potter," she prompted, "I know you have questions."

"Why did you bring me hear? Not that it's not a brilliant house, but can't you just take me to The Burrow, the Weasley's house?"

"The Weasley's are not at The Burrow right now."

"Well, do you know where they're staying can't you just take me there?"

"No I can't, I know where they are. In fact I saw them just yesterday, your friend Miss Granger is with them as well. But their current location is protected by the Fidelius Charm and I am not the secret keeper Dumbledore is, and he is most likely still at the Ministry."

"But shouldn't I at least write and tell someone where I am?"

"I will contact someone from the Order soon and let them know then we will… Oh the second letter! Do you still have it? You never read it," she said and he remembered the letter that he stuffed in his pocket while they were still at the Dursley's house.

"Oh I completely forgot about that one," he replied pulling it out ad reading it quickly. "It's from Mr Weasley, telling me Dumbledore is at the Ministry trying to sort things out and not to – oh no! He said not to leave the Dursley's house under any circumstances."

"Well circumstances change don't they? Your foul uncle chucked you out didn't he? The wards fell, I felt them fall, and I know you did as well. I couldn't just leave you there could I?"

"Yeah, I felt something happening. You're sure it was the wards?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm sure. As soon as your uncle kicked you out the wards fell. The wards would only stay in place for as long as you called that vile place home. Which brings me to another thing; did they always treat you like that? And did you ever tell anyone?"

They were interrupted by a loud crack and Cricket was standing before them again.

"Young Master is home Mistress, and he is coming this way," he said before he left with another loud crack.

"Potter where is your invisibility cloak?" she asked quickly.

"In my trunk," he replied getting to his feet and heading in that direction.

She stood and vanished his tea cup quickly so it would look like she was alone.

"What is that? And why is it on my trunk?" he asked startled.

"Buuurrrrrrpp." Was the answer he received from the yellow ball of fur perched on the top of his trunk as she approached him chuckling.

"He is a Puffskein," she answered picking the Puffskein up and petting its fur. "His name is Churchill and I have another, Clementine, she's around here somewhere. They're really quite sweet."

He didn't have time to say anything else because there was a loud knock at the door. "Gem, are you still up? I need to talk to you."

She quickly shrunk his trunk again and put it in her pocket then guided him to a low backed chair sat him down and threw his invisibility cloak over him, putting a finger to her lips signalling for him to remain quiet. She set Churchill, the Puffskein, down and walked to the door.

"You are over an hour late," she said pulling the door open.