A/N: Really quick, forgot to mention this. I'm going be making some changes to three other stories of mine. I'm changing the pairing for "THE SEVENTH HORCRUX" to Harry/Sirius. Eventually it will be a SNARRY, but that won't be until the far future. For now, it will be a story of healing and family between Harry and Sirius.

Also, I'll be changing the name of my "PEN IS A SWORD" Series. Instead of "BOOK ONE" and "BOOK TWO", I'll be changing it to "THE PEN IS A SWORD: THE STONE" and "THE PEN IS A SWORD: THE SECRET". Hope that this doesn't inconvenience anyone, but it seemed more creative and fitting to me.

Anywho, thanks for your patience, now on with the show!

Odd Day: Thursday – Day Four Continued

For a criminally obese boy, Dudley was remarkably skilled in moving silently and invisibly. After ducking behind several neighbor's yards and slipping through a couple hedges, Dudley finally reached the house of batty old Mrs. Figg.

However, as soon as Harry saw the street sign declaring their location as Wysteria Walk, he paled and began rapidly shaking his head and wheezing.

Dudley immediately stopped and hid in a darkened alleyway between two fences. "Harry! Har, what is it?"

Harry coughed and finally squeezed out, "…Figg… no, don'…"

Dudley shook his head. "No, Harry, we have to go. I was told that she's a Squib – a person with no magic, right? – and that she was connected to the – Froo? Floo? – network; and that we can use that to escape."

But, to his surprise, Harry again shook his head in the negative. "…No… not… Squib… witch… Figg witch…"

"What?" Dudley's jaw dropped, and he exchanged wide-eyed looks of incomprehension with the two animals who were also intently listening.

~Of COURSE!~ Severus cursed and faced the still-shocked Lucius. ~He wouldn't leave a Squib who couldn't defend him to watch over and 'protect' him – 'contain him, more like' he grumbled to himself. – No, he wouldn't dare leave himself open like that to mistake. Imagine, if the Dursleys had decided to drop him off at an orphanage, or almost killed him with their abuse, how could a SQUIB stop and protect him in time? No, but a witch, who is capable of casting compulsion and obliviate charms… now that's another story altogether…~

~Shit!~ Lucius growled, pacing back and forth restlessly; ignoring his plebian cursing. In light of the new information and the painful twinges as his ribs pulled, cursing seemed warranted. ~He just can't catch a fucking break, can he?~

While both the animals had been pacing and ranting silently, Dudley had been quietly thinking and contemplating, brow furrowed in thought.

Finally, he spoke, bringing halt to all other motion. "We have no choice. Petunia could come back at any moment, and if Vernon's meeting gets out early we'll both be done for. There's really no choice…"

And, meeting his pale cousin's terrified but resigned face, Dudley swallowed thickly and stated, "We'll have to try anyway. We can sneak in through the back."

Harry nodded jerkily, and with no further interruptions, they sneaked along the backside of the fences until they came to the weed-filled and destitute backyard of Mrs. Figg's house.

Harry watched through eyes that were slowing dawning with comprehension as Lucy growled for Dudley and Harry to stay put as Sevvy leapt the fence and slipped through an open window. Seconds later he returned and looked up at Dudley, shaking his head in a negative.

Dudley nodded and whispered, "She must be out… probably picking up some cat food from the grocer. We have an opening, best not waste it."

And with that, Dudley forced open the rickety back gate and slipped into the yard. Ignoring the eerily staring cats around him, he opened the unlocked back door and made his cautious way into the front parlor room, where the fireplace was located.

And there it was, empty and cold but with a nifty pile of firewood, newspaper for kindling, and a box a matches to the side. Dudley set his cousin gently upon the least-dusty couch and set himself to start a fire. As the newspaper caught fire and flickered, and he waited for it to spread to the wood, Dudley began searching for the porcelain Floo-pot with the waving Japanese cat – there!

With a grin of victory as he grabbed the pot and the fire took hold, warming the room and causing the shivering Harry to sigh in relief, was nearly blinding.

Dudley picked up his cousin and faced the fireplace. Grabbing a way too-generous handful of Floo powder, he threw it into the fire and called, "Slytherin Manor, Tom Riddle's Drawing Room. Password: Parseltongue."

As the flames flared green and Dudley prepared to step foot into the fireplace side-by-side with the two animals, a loud voice snapped from behind him, "ARESTO MOMENTUM!"

In a remarkable show of reflexes Dudley leaped to the side, only to discover that that was their attacker wanted. The yellow curse hit the fireplace and froze the flames; forcefully keeping the connection open.

~SHIT!~ Severus and Lucius yowled/howled at the same time, turning the face the gleefully dark face of Arabella Figg, not-Squib, Witch Warden of the Boy-Who-Lived. A bag of cat food and treats lay on the floor beside her, the contents spilling on the floor; while the still-open door behind her swung shut and locked with a flick of her wand.

"You're not going anywhere." She hissed, not seeing the sleek form of Sevvy sneak around the room, deliberately using the surrounding feline bodies as cover. "I made an Oath that I would never allow you to leave Surrey of your own volition again; and I'm not too keen on becoming the Squib Albus portrays me as.

"Now, Harry dear," both Harry and Dudley gagged and shivered at the poisonously sweet tone of her voice. "This is what's going to happen. You're going to return to your relatives with no knowledge or remembrance of this ill-thought out spout of rebellion, my true heritage, or this conversation. Your Aunt and Uncle will have an increased urge to punish you, and hopefully you'll never attempt something so foolish again.

"As for the open Floo connection to Slytherin Manor, I'm sure Alby will be only too pleased with the wide-open door through Voldemort's defenses. I imagine that the prize of being able to catch him with his trousers down will guarantee me a life of luxury and recognition. Especially, dear boy, after you marry my wonderful daughter.

"I believe you know her better as… Ginevra? Say goodbye to your memories Harry… again. OBLIVIA-AAAGH!"

Just as she was about to give voice and power to the mind-wiping and -damaging curse, Sevvy leapt up and dug both fangs and claws into her hand, causing her to drop her wand in shock and pain. Not missing a beat, Sevvy let go and, snagging the fallen wand in his jaws, sprinted back to Dudley and dropped the wand into Harry's open palm.

As one, as though they'd planned it in advance, Harry snapped the wand viciously – sending the furious and shocked Arabella to her knees at the pain to her magical core – while Dudley threw the jar of Floo-powder that he still held in his hands, with perfect aim, at the fallen witch's head.

She dropped like a rock.

What Dudley hadn't expected was, upon the action, to be suddenly faced with two dozen furiously snarling and spitting cats… that were all advancing upon him and Harry.

Deciding it would not be prudent to linger, Dudley picked up Harry again and stepped into the still-green, now flickering flames – the spell that kept the connection open having vanished upon the destruction of the false-Squib's wand. Severus and Lucius followed immediately behind, inwardly cackling in glee and triumph.

And, as they disappeared in a flash of green before the connection was severed and the flames returned to their regular orange hue; the house echoed with the agonized wails and howls of dozens of cats as the familiar bond between them and Arabella Figg was severed… upon the disappearance of the woman's magic.

For Arabella Figg had just failed, inadvertently broken an Unbreakable Oath, and the consequence – punishment – was her magic.

Mrs. Figg was now what she had been faking for the last decade and a half of her life – a Squib.

Dumbledore would not be pleased…

As soon as Dudley stumbled into Slytherin's Manor's drawing room, Harry coughing and wheezing in his arms, Lucius and Severus were off like a shot, splitting up to search the manor for their wayward Lord and friend.

It was Lucius who finally found him, in the parlor reading a Dark Arts tomb by the fire, Nagini curled around his shoulders and reading alongside. Tom had taken one look at the wheezing, transfigured Malfoy Lord – silver fur matted and dirty with bandages wrapped tightly around obviously injured ribs – before he had leapt to his feet, half-century year old book falling unheeded to the carpeted floor.

He didn't ask a single questions – hadn't needed to – he just picked up his dear friend and bolted, composure abandoned, for the drawing room; where he knew that the two disguised wizards would have guided the Boy-Who-Lived if the situation were truly dire.

And it most certainly was.

Despite his best efforts, despite him preparing himself for the worst, nothing could have prepared him to see the proof of the true levels of depravity and human cruelty that he saw before him.

He couldn't see much, but what he did see was more than enough.

He didn't even concerned about the obviously-Muggle, obese boy in his pureblood ancestral home. Indeed, he hardly spared the lad a passing glance. What drew his immediate attention and worry was the wheezing, bleeding, bruised, emaciated, broken boy hero before him.

Once-ebony black, tousled hair was now red, matted, and limp from blood and the indignity of the unwashed. Skin once tanned and flawless was now scarred, bruised, and porcelain pale. Tom briefly had time to realize that the damage was too extensive from one summer alone, and to wonder exactly how powerful this child was, to have such powerful glamours that he hadn't seen them before; during their infinite, countless meetings.

He could see the glint of pink and metal around the boy's wrists, and following the length of chain upwards he caught sight of the red and silver, in what was obviously a barbaric collar pulled too tight.

But, as his eyes flickered upwards and he locked gazes with the boy, all other thought was wiped from his mind. Once stubborn, bright, sparkling, powerful viridian orbs were no more. Now they were dull, tarnished, defeated, jaded. They were broken and crushed, and Tom wondered if 'Just Harry' even existed in there anymore; or if Dumbledore had finally killed him.

Sometimes, Thomas Marvolo Riddle, now-sane Dark Lord and Emperor of the Night, really hated being right.

A/N: Tada! Two chapters in as many days! Whoa are you guys lucky!

Now, just hold your horses, I'll explain all about Arabella 'Figg' and her history/where she really came from. It's super brilliant and twisted, hopefully you'll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I left just enough clues to get some of you wondering… and I'll hold the answers hostage unless I get reviews! Mwahahahahahahaha! *evil laugh of EEEVIIILL!*

Anywho, insane moment over with (NOT) I dearly hope that you OWL (review) and let me know what you think. Any and all Howlers will be used as kindling to light Fred and George on fire.

As one brilliant reviewer reminded me, threatening to torch Dumbledore was counter-productive, as everyone wants that to happen. And, as EVERYONE loves the Twins, I figured that threatening them would be a good way to get good reviews… even though I'll now have to run for my life, as the Twins don't take being used as bait too well…

Ooop! Here they come now! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW; and I'll take to you later. Sort of running for my life now…