Disclaimer: I am borrowing from the creative mind of J.K. Rowling.
Warning: This story is rated as T for a reason. The chapter contains mild language, brief sexual reference and violence (just a fist fight nothing too graphic).
Thank you to my beta Trucklesinthetree. If you have not read Remembering Me and the sequel Remembering Me: Into the Serpent's Lair, you should check it out. It is listed as a favorite on my profile page and in my community, Melverne's Picks. I am looking for stories to add to the community, if you have a suggestion PM me.
Chapter Six: Party Crashers
Tracie had been a lackluster student at Hogwarts. She didn't achieve the necessary scores to take the classes that would have paved the way to lucrative careers. Her goal at school had been to have fun and to take the easiest classes. Tracie had a knack for using others. She would befriend individuals for the sole purpose of copying homework or getting them to do the assignments for her. As a Slytherin, she desired great things but lacked the ambition to work for them. To stand on the shoulders of giants or walk over anyone who did not make her look good was her style.
Post graduation had been a shock for her. She was not wealthy, and while fun to be with at school she was not welcome among the well to do circle. The ability to dominate and insert herself into any conversation, welcome or not, was not a valuable asset. The smarter or more serious graduates moved onto greater things, while Tracie struggled as a barista in Diagon Alley, hoping to find a better future.
At her five year Hogwarts reunion Tracie found, to her regret, that she was not nearly as popular as she once believed. There were many who nourished bitter memories of the callous treatment received from Tracie. The wealthy and influential individuals she tried so hard to impress would not even acknowledge her. After a few failed attempts to enter various conversations, Tracie found that she had little in common with her previous clique. She had no relevant work experience, a husband or children to talk about. In short, Hogwarts was in the past.
A fellow Slytherin who had a slightly better talent than using others to his advantage stumbled across her path. Dave Gaidley had been a conceited arse with a mediocre talent at Quidditch. What he excelled at was brown nosing. The ability to suck up to the powers that be could indeed get you ahead in life. Evidently Dave had his head buried so far up some Ministry official's arse that he could smell their breath. This awe-inspiring gift had granted him a small measure of power.
A one night stand later, Tracie had landed a position as a clerk in the mailroom at the Ministry of Magic. All it took was a willingness to sacrifice her pride and submit to a power monger's ego. Unfortunately for Tracie, there was much more attached than one night of demeaning sex.
A few weeks after starting her new job she had lunch with Dave. It was a small out of the way establishment with good food and a low profile. It had all the charm of a back alley mugging. The conversation had started innocently enough. The 'rah rah' help me help you load of shite. Foolishly, Tracie believed Dave was on her side. All she had to do was keep an eye out for anything that might be interesting.
Three years later, Tracie knew the truth. She had been skipped for every promotion and any attempt to transfer to another department was denied. Tracie was pigeon holed with no opportunity to move up and no better alternatives. The raises were beneath the cost of living. Her only bonus was the galleons received for finding something useful. Dave paid her handsomely for the inside knowledge.
To spite her sponsor, Tracie found the entrepreneur inside herself. Surely, Dave was not the only one interested in this information. Someone else might be just as willing to buy what she had. Tracie bitterly thought about the option for several weeks until she finally worked up the courage to do it. Dave hadn't said that the information was to only go to him. It would serve the arse kissing bastard right, if I became a free agent, she thought to herself. I'll sell the information to the highest bidder or sell it to everyone with the gold to pay for it.
It took awhile to contact the right person at the Daily Prophet. She started by selling her findings a day or two after meeting with Dave, the arse licker. He either didn't know what she was doing or didn't care. So Tracie kept double dipping.
Months later Tracie nearly ran out of the mailroom in unbridled jubilation. She wanted to scream hysterically, I've got the bloody golden ticket! Just like that Charlie bloke from that nonsense Muggle story about a chocolate factory. There was such a spring in her step she was practically skipping on her way to meet Dave - arse breath - Gaidley. Oh what she would give to say, 'got a spot of shite on your nose, Davo.' She felt great! She nearly waived the hand holding the copy of the abuse report of one Harry James Potter - the boy-who-lived-to-make-me-bloody-rich! – through the air.
Rita Skeeter was incensed when her contact from the Ministry mailroom asked for one hundred galleons. When she balked at the price, the mailroom bimbo had the gall to laugh and say, "Your loss, someone else's gain."
It was against Rita's nature to let someone else beat her to the scoop. With her unique talents it didn't happen, especially when she paid a few reliable sources on the side. It didn't hurt that she would sell her pen to smear anyone's reputation, if the price was right. Juicy pieces of information just seemed to fall into her eager hands. So, much to her chagrin, Rita shelled out the one hundred galleons to the greedy mail clerk.
Maybe someday I will write an expose on the unscrupulous conduct of Ministry employees and feature this tart in the story," Rita thought vindictively as she handed over the money.
She fumed to herself all the way back to the office. The door slammed shut behind her and she sat down at her desk. She smoothed the paperwork out on the desktop and started to read through the medical report. It was mildly interesting. Small size, poor vision, dry skin and hair loss were sighted as signs of malnourishment. The boy in question bore multiple contusions, suspected lashes from a belt and a fractured rib. Multiple bones had been broken and left to be healed by the young wizard's magic. A footnote discussed the possibility of having to break the bones again and reset them or removing the bones altogether and having them re-grown. Rita shuddered at the thought of the painful process then finished reading.
The information was shaping up to be a nice sordid affair. If only the child was from a pureblood family or even better an ancient family. She would have the evidence of a public scandal in her hands. Rita flipped back excitedly to the first page of the domestic abuse report and looked for the name. The obfuscated field glared at her challengingly. She pulled out her wand and taped the concealed writing, "finite incantatem."
Rita nearly fell out of her chair when she saw the name.
oOo
Augusta and Lorraine had watched Harry walk miserably into the parlor and climb up onto the couch. He'd picked the furthest seat from everyone in the room and turned his back to them. The tiny black haired boy had tucked his legs up under his nightshirt and was now hugging his knees tightly to his chest.
"Hmhm," Augusta cleared her throat trying to get Harry's attention.
He responded by burying his face in his knees.
Augusta stood up. "I think I would like some more tea. Would you care to join me in the kitchen, Lorraine?"
Lorraine looked sadly at the lonely boy on the couch and struggled with her desire to go and comfort him. After a moment, however, she followed Augusta's lead and stood up.
"Yes please."
I am a Hufflepuff through and through. The Lions don't realize Harry needs comforting despite his closed off posture. Perhaps I should say something.
Lorraine turned her eyes away from Harry and looked at Augusta steadily, prepared to state her opinion.
"He just needs a minute alone. Arabella will take care of him," Augusta assured the other woman with a smile, noticing Lorraine's concern.
Harry will need to learn that not everyone is out to hurt him. There are caring and trustworthy people. I will suggest to Arabella that Lorraine would do an admirable job of watching Harry, Augusta thought as they entered the kitchen.
Once the women had left, Snowy leapt onto the couch and slunk her way towards Harry. She could sense his sad mood and casually approached the small boy. On her first pass she rubbed along Harry's right side, leaning into his ribs and legs, which were pulled up under his nightshirt. The Kneezle repeated the process when Harry did not respond and pet her. This time she butted her head forcefully against his right elbow.
Her persistence was rewarded when Harry finally dropped his right hand to stroke her. Snowy purred her approval and circled around once more. She nosed his elbow again and walked beneath the length of his arm, feeling it run down her back. His fingers curled to gently comb the length of her back. After a few more passes, Harry turned his head to look at the white, long-haired Kneezle.
"Your a good girl, Snowy," he said in a raspy voice. Snowy curled up along his side and purred contentedly as Harry continued to stroke her.
Arabella smiled when she saw Harry on the couch with Snowy by his side. All of the Kneazles liked Harry but Snowy was particularly fond of him. Harry always seemed to react positively to her presence. In the last twenty four hours, she had started to become very territorial about him. The others were beginning defer to her preference regarding Harry.
Harry did his best to focus on petting Snowy when Director Bones and Mrs Figg walked in. He hung his head lower but peered out from under his fringe as the floo was activated. Magic was new and wondrous to him and he couldn't help but watch.
The women concluded their business, noting that Harry continued to peek in their direction.
"I will pick up Susan from Lorraine tonight. If it is alright, I might bring her over again tomorrow to make sure she catches Dragon Pox?"
"Of course, Susan and Hannah are both welcome to come over," Mrs Figg confirmed.
"Thank you, Arabella. My floo at home is a secured line. The calls and transports are not monitored. If you need anything, contact me there." Director Bones turned to the kitchen and called, "Susan, be good. I will see you tonight."
"Bye Auntie," Susan called back from the kitchen.
Harry's ears perked up at Susan's farewell to her Auntie. Aunt Petunia hates it when I call her anything other than ma'am. Why does Susan's Aunt like her? She must not be a freak like me.
The Director did not want any floo calls or transport to the DMLE from Mrs Figg's floo so she called out, "Bones Residence," as she tossed a pinch of floo powder into the fire. The flames burned an eerie green as the hearth expanded to allow passage.
Once Director Bones was gone, Mrs Figg turned to Harry. They watched each other awkwardly from across the room. Arabella was the first to close the gap. She walked over to the couch and sat down beside him. Snowy leaped to the back of the couch to make room.
Harry rolled his arms up in the bottom of his nightshirt nervously. He managed to wind it around his arms and all the way up to his knees before Arabella stopped his nervous motions. Gently, she extracted Harry's arms and straightened his clothes.
He intently watched her as she pulled out his arms and straightened his nightshirt. Even now, after the terrible accusation and the awful things he had said, Mrs Figg was still being kind to him. An overwhelming sense of guilt struck him. His eyelashes glistened with tears.
"I'm sorry Mrs Figg," he apologized tearfully.
She pulled the handkerchief from his sleeve then tipped his head and wiped away his tears.
"I should have told you from the beginning what I was doing. Do you understand what Director Bones said to you?"
"Sorta," Harry replied hesitantly.
"Dr Henderson is going to report that you have been abused and mistreated by your relatives. Vernon should never take a belt to you. Nor should he ever hit you hard enough to leave a bruise. You are clearly not getting enough to eat and the clothes you were wearing are completely unacceptable. The Dursleys are your relatives and the care you have received from them has been terrible. Madam Longbottom and I have taken some actions that will see to it that you will never have to go back to them again. Ooof..."
Harry had launched himself at Arabella and now had both arms wrapped around her tightly. He was hugging her for all he was worth. The emotional boy quickly tired a moment later and settled down to sit in her lap, leaning back against her.
Arabella put her arms around Harry, holding him close. Her hands were lightly clasped and resting in Harry's lap. He snuggled closer and put a hand on hers.
"Can I stay with you please?" Harry asked quickly before his courage failed him.
She hugged him and then kissed the top of his head.
"No one can take you away," Arabella replied confidently.
A feeling of warmth spread through Harry's chest at the tender touch and comforting words. He smiled and squeezed Mrs Figg's hand in return.
Arabella started to hum a soothing little tune to Harry. After a minute he yawned.
"Harry?" Arabella called softly.
"Hmmm?" Harry hummed contentedly.
"You said that you told me that the Dursleys were mean to you. When did you tell me that?"
Harry was quiet for a long time. Arabella thought he might have fallen asleep but he eventually slurred an answer.
"Last year before the hols. Unc'l Vernon busted my lip and black'd my eye cause m' grades were better'n Dudley's. You asked how I got hurt."
"I'm sorry that I didn't do anything, Harry. I know it is hard to believe but I don't remember you telling me," Arabella said regretfully.
"S'okay. The teacher 'n princ'pal didn't r'member either after the old chap with the long…" Harry stopped to give a big yawn then continued, "…white beard came. I was scared..."
Arabella made a mental note of the time period that Albus had likely altered her memory. She waited for the sleepy boy to finish. Arabella would have left him alone except he had been so closed off about everything until now. She knew Harry's trust was growing rapidly but she suspected that Harry also had a loose tongue when he was tired.
With a gentle nudge she asked, "what were you scared about, Harry?"
"They'd put me away n' forget 'bout me," Harry said as his head dropped into the crook of Arabella's arm.
"Put you away where?"
"M' cupboard," Harry grumbled. He rolled onto his side towards her and curled up.
"What do you mean, your cupboard?" She questioned. She put a hand on his bottom and pulled him closer so he wouldn't slide off, then crossed a leg to support him on her lap.
"M' cupboard," his groggy voice was starting to sound irritated. "No room like here. Jus' m' cupboard. Pease don lock me in," he begged with a face contorted with worry.
A chill ran down Arabella's spine when she pieced together what Harry was saying. The bastards had made him sleep in a cupboard and locked him in there.
"I promise I won't ever lock you up," she replied and gave him a hug.
His lip curled in a half smile when she hugged him and she felt his body relax even further in her arms. Arabella pulled his glasses off and set them on the back of the couch, then started to scratch his head.
"Thas niz," he sighed before drifting off.
Several minutes later Neville bounced into the room.
"Where's Harry?" Neville stopped when he noticed his friend asleep on Arabella's lap. "Oh. Sorry. Can he play with us later, Bella?" Neville tiptoed closer to look at Harry. He smiled when he saw how Bella cradled Harry in her arms.
"Yes, Neville. Harry just needs to rest a bit," she answered quietly.
"Again?" Neville asked with the tiniest bit of a whinge.
"Harry is sick Neville. He slept most of yesterday," Arabella explained patiently.
Neville's brown eyes looked her over critically. When their eyes met it felt like he was weighing her. After a moment he asked, "Are you keeping Harry?"
She nodded her affirmation to the little Lord Longbottom.
Frank used to do that. Alice would laugh and say he was judging you when he did it.
Neville nodded his approval in return then pumped an arm excitedly and whispered, "Yes!"
He spun around and left to go thank his Gran for helping Harry. I told Harry my Gran would take care of it, he thought proudly as he bounded off.
When things had quieted down Augusta and Lorraine returned to the parlor. Lorraine crept by Arabella to get a good look at Harry. She reached down and ran her fingers through his thick messy hair. The boy subconsciously tilted his head back into her hand and sighed.
Lorraine smiled at Arabella, happy to see Harry in such good hands.
"He is very fortunate to have you," she said softly.
"Thank you, Lorraine," Arabella answered. Her initial apprehension of having Lorraine come over with Hannah was diminishing. The woman and her daughter were truly nice people. Her offer to help by watching Harry was a gesture of good will and a genuine desire to be of assistance. Arabella also knew that Amelia would not let just anyone take care of Susan.
Being ill and under stress had taken their toll on the boy. Harry had been quick to tire and very emotional all day. After a fifteen minute nap, however, he was in a much better mood. He was groggy another five minutes until fully waking up.
Arabella brushed back Harry's bangs and handed him his glasses. "Your guests are playing in the kitchen. Do you want to go play or stay here with me?"
Harry pushed his glasses onto his face then sat quietly for a moment considering his earlier statement of wishing that everyone would just go away. The girls were nice but awfully giggly. He liked Neville though and felt terrible about calling him a tattletale.
"Go play," he mumbled. He gave Arabella a quick bashful hug then slid off her lap. His bare feet slapped the wood floor as he trotted out of the room.
He stood just inside the kitchen and watched the others play for a moment. Neville and Susan were playing a game of checkers.
"Red token G3 to H4," Neville called out. The piece glowed and moved diagonally to secure the square.
Hannah was the first to see Harry since she wasn't playing. "Hi Harry," she greeted with a bright smile. "Come watch. We can play next," she patted the floor next to her then scooted over to make room for him.
Nobody had ever asked Harry to sit by them before, especially not the girls. The girls were even meaner than the boys. They would usually laugh cruelly and talk snidely about how he looked and smelled. Even worse, they said he had cooties. The boys would just push and shove him around. Only Dudley and his friends would punch or hit him. He lingered cautiously by the wall, waiting to be teased.
"Well come on. Don't you want to play with us?"
"Come on, Harry. You and Hannah can have the next game," Neville called to his friend. Harry meandered over and sat down on his knees next to Hannah.
"Have you ever played wizard's checkers before, Harry?" Hannah asked while curling one of her pigtails in her finger. He shook his head no.
"Well, all you do is move the pieces from one side to the other. When you meet another piece you can jump over it with yours. If you get all the way to the back row on the other side, you get kinged and can move that piece backwards. Got it?"
"Um. Not really," Harry admitted.
"Just watch us. We'll show you," Susan said making her next move. "Black B6 to A5." Her black piece moved to its new position.
Soon it was Harry and Hannah's turn. She took a red and black piece and put her hands behind her back, switching them around, before holding both hands out to Harry.
"Right or left?"
Harry just looked at her bewildered.
"Pick a hand, Harry," Neville encouraged.
"That one," Harry said pointing to Hannah's right hand.
"Good, you got red. That means you get to go first," Susan said.
Harry reached out and moved a red token diagonally into the center of the board.
"No, Harry. Not that like," Hannah laughed and shook her head with mirth. Her blond pigtails waved back and forth wildly.
Harry grinned sheepishly at Hannah when she chastised him for touching the checkerboard piece. He had been laughed at and made fun of at school often enough to know when someone was being truly mean to him. Hannah was not being mean at all. She was just easily amused and happy in general.
Susan and Neville were smiling broadly too. Hannah's laugh was infectious; they couldn't help but smile in return.
"Call the move, Harry," Neville said patiently.
Harry wiped his sweaty hands on his nightshirt as he studied the board for the coordinates.
"Red C3 to D4," he called nervously. Nothing on the board moved. Peels of laughter rang in the kitchen as Hannah fell on her side. Susan giggled at Hannah and gave her a playful smack.
"Girls," Neville said in an exasperated tone as he shook his head. Harry gave a short little laugh at Neville's comment.
The women in the parlor listened to the children play as they continued to talk. They took turns checking on them. Each time they would hand Harry a cup of something to drink, or a sweet that had to be licked and asked him to share it with his friends.
Harry had never had so many treats in his life or anyone to share them with. He thanked the adults with heartfelt sincerity each time they gave him something and his eyes would shine when they asked him to share with his friends.
"He is such a nice boy," Lorraine said returning from the kitchen. "The way he thanked me for the lolly made me feel like I was giving him all the galleons in the world. When I asked him to share it with his friends, I swear his eyes sparkled. You'd think he had never been given a sweet before."
"You're right," Arabella agreed with a sour expression.
"Pardon me," Lorraine apologized thinking she had said something wrong.
"Sorry Lorraine. I was agreeing with you. Harry probably has never been given anything from anyone other than myself. I've watched his cousin snatch candy and toys right out of hands. When they were invited over I had to separate them to make sure Harry would get to finish the biscuits I gave them. He is always alone. I doubt he has any friends," Arabella explained.
"Honestly?" Lorraine asked skeptically. Neville acts like they are on their way to being best friends. Hannah and Susan have been very receptive to him as well. He is very unassuming and easy to get along with.
"You didn't see Harry's reaction yesterday when we told him Neville was coming over. Harry said that he understood if Neville didn't want to play with him. To be honest, I am not surprised." She held up a hand to her sputtering friend, halting Arabella's response. "The way Harry looked yesterday was shocking. The poor boy was wearing dingy clothes that were far too large for him and he was absolutely filthy. The stench was nearly unbearable. I don't blame the boy, he is only six. Harry's relatives, however have no excuse for his disgraceful appearance. How much effort does it take to keep a boy clean?" Augusta asked disgustedly.
Arabella nodded in agreement and said, "I would never say a anything against Harry, but sadly it's true. It wasn't just his cousin that taunted Harry. His other classmates were just as mean spirited to him. Children can be so cruel."
"Even after seeing the doctor's report, I have hard time believing this. How could anyone treat Harry or any child like that?" Lorraine said passionately, looking from one woman to the other.
Suddenly Arabella stood up and said, "You'll get to see first hand. Petunia's coming." After that she apparated to the front door to wait for the vile woman to arrive.
oOo
Petunia was fuming as she dug through Dudley's clothes looking for something ready to be thrown out. That boy is nothing but trouble. How inconsiderate of him to get sick like that and nearly ruin my bridge party. Now I will have to clean the house myself.
She dug deep into the back of Dudley's closet grabbing an armload of clothes. While rooting around, Petunia had missed the phone ringing. Shortly afterwards, she shut the front door behind her and headed across the street to drop off the castoffs; again she missed the phone ringing.
Once she returned home Petunia sighed with relief. Thank goodness Arabella was old school. Spare the rod, spoil the child, HA! What a load of rubbish. They would think we were barking mad if I told her the truth. Vernon has the right of it. Beat that magic nonsense out of him. Teach him to respect his betters.
The phone rang disrupting her rant.
"Hello. This is the Dursley residence," she greeted in her perfect happy homemaker voice.
"Oh, I will be over straight away."
Petunia was furious. She had been ill at ease when Dudley started to come down with the pox. Petunia did not remember having greenish skin, just red pox marks. When Dudley started to sneeze the next morning and sparks came out of his nose she had nearly fainted.
It is that freak's fault. He has infected my poor Dudley with some unnatural disease. A doctor would take him away for tests, she worried as she wiped Dudley's forehead with a damp washcloth.
Arabella was right. If one child has it, the others will too. Oh good lord, what if Harry has the same symptoms. She looked at Dudley's green skin.
Dudley sniffed in a simpering way at his mom. "I feel hot, Mum. Get me another iced lolly."
"Anything you want, Dudders," she answered, patting his chubby cheek.
I have to get Harry back before Arabella finds out what a freak he is. That's all we need to tarnish the Dursley name. I'll have to tell Vernon to stay away until everyone is better. I don't want him to catch it too. Albus didn't say anything about catching diseases from their kind. Wait until I give that old goat a good what for!
Petunia sifted through the container for Dudley's favorite flavor and noted that grape ones were nearly gone. She brought Dudley the frosty treat hoping to appease him before announcing her plan.
"We're going to visit Mrs Figg when you finish that Dudley," she said, handing it to him.
"But, Mum, Phillip Schofield is going to start announcing this afternoon's cartoons on the Beeb," Dudley whinged.
"I can't leave you alone when you aren't feeling well. We will only be there for a minute to bring Harry home," Petunia tried to reason with her son.
"Noooooo! I don't feel good and I don't want him here." Dudley moved straight in to a full-scale tantrum and threw his grape ice lolly across the room. It splattered against the wall in a purple gooey mess. He crossed his arms defiantly.
"But Dudley, this is really important," Petunia tried to plead with the stubborn boy.
"NO!" Dudley screamed in her face.
"I'll get you a new video for your VCR upstairs," Petunia tried to bargain.
Dudley considered the offer. "Keep the freak away from me."
"Thank you, Dudley."
They walked across the street and up the walkway to Arabella's door. The doorbell had scarcely rung when the door opened.
"Petunia what brings..."
The prim, blonde haired woman interrupted, "I'm here to pick up Harry. Dudley is sick as well. I might as well take care of him too."
Arabella was stunned. She looked at Dudley. His rounded girth was pushing against the hooded jumper he was wearing. Dudley had his hands in his pockets and his face was down. With no attempt to cover his mouth Dudley unexpectedly let loose with a mighty, "Blechew!"
Sparks flew and Petunia jumped.
"Dudley has Dragon Pox," Arabella said in surprise.
Petunia looked at Arabella shrewdly. With a critical eye she looked the woman over. "You knew. You're one of them aren't you?" She accused in a shrill voice.
"Petunia why don't you come in," Arabella said in a calm commanding voice. Her years as an Auror surfaced in an instant. Tranquility settled in and she established a relaxed but ready stance.
The door opened wide and Arabella stepped aside to allow her new guests in.
The only reason Petunia entered was because she didn't want to air her dirty laundry where a neighbor might see.
"Where's the boy?" Petunia demanded, looking around for Harry.
"He is in the kitchen with his friends," Arabella replied leading them from the entrance hall to the living room.
Dudley snorted like he had just heard a good joke. "Yeah right," he said sarcastically.
"Dudley, why don't you go see Harry while I talk to your mum," Arabella suggested lightly.
"I don't have anything to say to you. Harry! Come on, we're leaving," Petunia shouted.
"Silencio," Arabella spoke the incantation and suddenly pointed her wand at Petunia. "Now you are going to listen to me. Then I might allow you to talk. Dudley can either go to the kitchen with Harry or he can stay here and listen to every word I have to say to you."
Petunia's mouth worked wordlessly. She put a hand to her throat with a look of horror on her face.
"I think she is trying to tell you to go to the kitchen, Dudley," Arabella interpreted for Petunia. "Run along, Dudley, I have much to say."
Dudley turned and hurried right past Augusta and Lorraine, giving them a wide birth, as they walked into the living room. He cast one worried glance over his shoulder as he retreated to the kitchen.
oOo
"I have been looking forward to this. I don't think I want to wait for Arabella to give me a piece of what is left," Augusta said coldly to Lorraine and went to join Arabella at the door.
The vehemence in the normally elegant woman's voice startled Lorraine. She had learned in the short afternoon that the women were very close, despite not seeming to agree on much. Their opinions differed often and they argued heatedly. Yet, the sharp words they exchanged didn't bother each other in the least. It was like two sides to a coin. But sometimes with a coin toss, no matter what side turns up, you lose. Petunia was about to find that out.
Sweet Merlin. I'm going to have to be the rational one here. I still remember Edgar Bones saying he would never want to be the one Arabella pointed her wand at, and the Longbottoms are ancient. There are family grimoires with spells too old to be classified as light or dark, Lorraine thought as she followed worriedly in Augusta's wake.
The four children were playing happily in a circle on the floor. Susan had brought her jacks and they were taking turns. Hannah and Susan were by far the best but they all had a good laugh when Harry and Neville took a turn.
"Harry! Come on, we're leaving," Petunia shouted from the other room.
Harry almost cried when Petunia called for him. He folded in upon himself, wrapped his arms around himself and started to rock worriedly.
"No, please no," Harry whimpered.
Augusta and Lorraine entered the kitchen from the parlor. Augusta had a stern, cool expression as she strode through the room with Lorraine in tow. Seeing Harry's frightened posture, Lorraine stopped and gave the little boy a hug.
He gave a startled twitch at her touch and stiffened in her arms when she hugged him. Lorraine stroked his hair reassuringly. "Stay right here, Harry. Don't you worry. You aren't going anywhere."
He drew in a long quivering breath then relaxed a little.
"Are you OK now?" Lorraine asked with concern, prepared to stay if she was needed.
The little black head bobbed.
"Here. I don't think you have tried one of these yet," Lorraine said, handing him a lolly before standing up.
All of you stay here," she reminded the children, then hurried off to catch up with Augusta.
"Don't worry, Harry. Gran will set her right. Just you wait and see," Neville comforted his friend, patting him on the back.
"That's a frostypop, Harry. It makes your…" Hannah started to say.
"Let him try it and see what happens, Hannah. Go on, Harry," Susan encouraged him.
They had all seen the look of terror on their friend's face and were making a group effort to keep Harry distracted. Harry unwrapped the frosty blue sucker and felt his fingers tingle like he was packing a snowball without any mittens on.
"It's cold," he said with wonder then stuck it in his mouth.
Harry's nose and toes felt cold. The taste reminded him of the really cold day he walked home from school and Mrs Figg invited him in for hot cocoa.
"It tastes like hot chocolate and marshmallows!" he said excitedly.
His eyes went round when he noticed that he could see his breathe just like on a really cold day. Hannah laughed delightedly at the amazed expression on Harry's face.
"Can I try it next, Harry? I really like them," Susan asked.
Dudley lurked by the door watching Harry and the supposed friends. He did not understand how Mrs Figg made his Mum lose her voice or how Harry's breath hung frigidly in the air like that but he was mad. Dudley did not want to be here nor did he want Harry at his home. Frustrated, Dudley decided to take it out on his usual victim.
"Dudley," Harry gasped at seeing his cousin standing there. He started feeling smaller by the second. Please leave me alone. They like me. Please Dudley please, Harry begged in his mind.
Just in case his pleas were unanswered Harry braced himself for flight. He had learned to never hit Dudley back. Uncle Vernon took the belt to Harry, if he tried to defend himself against Dudley. So he prepared for the only thing he could do - run. Being made fun of for running away was much better than being whipped by his uncle. Unfortunately, Harry's usual defense of fleeing would lead to Dudley's favorite game, Harry Hunting.
The portly bully stalked around the ring of children towards Harry.
"Let's have it, Potty boy," Dudley sneered, using one of Harry's school nicknames. It referred to one of the many times Harry had had an accident at school since he couldn't unbuckle his belt.
"N...n.n.n no!" Harry stammered. Harry clutched the sweet protectively to his chest.
Dudley slowed momentarily in surprise when Harry refused. His eyes narrowed maliciously. "No?" Dudley asked in a low menacing tone as he closed in on his much smaller cousin.
Harry tilted his head back as Dudley loomed in. He shook his head no fearfully. His hand tightened on the lolly's stick. "It's mine," Harry croaked.
In a sudden burst of violence Dudley slapped Harry, sending his glasses spinning across the floor. The smack of Dudley's hand on Harry's face echoed in the kitchen. The other three children sat frozen, stunned by the bigger boy's behavior. Being home-schooled limited their exposure to bullies; they just didn't know what to do.
Harry swayed with the blow and Dudley grabbed the item of contention. There was a brief struggle before the lolly was wrenched away from Harry.
"Now it's mine, little Piss Potter," Dudley leered at Harry. He gave Harry a good kick in the side for his defiance.
Harry bit his lip to stifle the cry from the blow. Experience had taught him that Dudley would get bored and leave him alone eventually. So he trembled below his cousin's towering figure. He turned his head in shame: afraid the others would be jeering Dudley along just like at school.
"Give it back to him. That's Harry's," Susan piped up, defending the trembling boy. She couldn't help but notice that Harry was the smallest in the room and it made her angry to see him treated like that.
"Ohhh, it's Harry's. I'm sorry. Here ya go freak," Dudley said sticking the sucker in Harry's hair. He pressed it in hard to make sure it stuck.
Harry tried to bat Dudley's hand away and keep it out of his hair, but Dudley leaned down on him in response and rubbed it in harder. Once it was good and stuck Dudley gave Harry's head a good shove making him wobble to one side.
Once he righted himself, Harry pulled on the sweet for just a second before he realized he couldn't get it out without chunks of his hair coming with it. He tucked his knees under his chin and hugged his arms around them, frustrated with feeling so helpless. He closed his eyes against the building tears.
Why won't he just leave me alone? Every time someone talks to me or might even like me he does this. Now they won't like me anymore. It's not fair! Harry thought with despair.
"Gonna cry baby? Gonna cry like a little girl? You sure look like one in your pretty little dress," Dudley taunted as he circled around Harry before shoving him.
"That's a nightshirt not a dress. Boys wear them," Hannah said in a belittling tone of voice.
"Maybe Harry's a girl. He fights like one. He cries like one too!" Dudley spat back.
Harry drew a bubbly breath and trembled as he exhaled from his mouth, fighting the tears that threatened to fall.
"Any more nightmares, Harry?" Dudley asked cruelly.
Harry stilled and held his breath when his cousin mentioned his reoccurring nightmare.
"Dream about any more dead people, freak? Oh boo hoo. The red haired lady got killed. Shot by a pretty green light. Gonna beat on the door and cry to be let out you big baby." Dudley mockingly wrung his eyes behind Harry's back.
oOo
Harry bounced in his mum's arms as she ran upstairs. Her auburn smelled of lilacs after a spring rain. The locks of soft red hair was twined between his little fingers and in his mouth. Below them his Da stood watching her run up the spiral staircase. He smiled and waved to them. "I love you," he called.
A boom thundered through the hall and debris sprayed his father. His wand weaved through the air and a shimmering field of energy shielded him from the splintered wood. "Run Lily, run!"
Flashes of light shot back and forth below as his mum whisked them away. Sensing the danger Harry began to cry. They ran into his bedroom and Harry was deposited in his crib. He stood up and stretched his arms out. "Mum Mum Mum Mum."
Lily shut the door and threw up a ward activating the charm of concealment to buy the precious minutes she needed. She grabbed the crib and aligned it in the center of the pentagram engraved in the nursery floor. Hastily, she pulled the ceremonial dagger and vial from the dresser.
She stood nervously in the room with the dagger and vial her hands, waiting agitatedly. Ignoring the crying toddler, she focused on the sounds of battle below. After a few minutes it came to a stop. A breeze flitted through the room, caressing Lily's hair. A tear ran down her peach colored cheek and she whispered, "James."
The pentagram began to glow around them and Lily uncorked the vial. She turned the vial over, letting the blood poor upon the floor. "Your blood," Lily intoned, then cast the vial aside.
A swift down stroke of the dagger across the palm of her hand spilled her blood upon the floor. "My blood," she spoke the word of power.
She knelt and smeared her hand in the blood from the vial. "OUR BLOOD."
The blood splatters beaded and rolled to the five points of the blazing pentagram. She turned and drew a jagged line of blood on Harry's forehead. "For you, our love. Quiet now little one. Everything will be alright," she soothed, running her hand through his hair as the pentagram cooled and blended into the flooring.
Behind them the door began to glow red and vibrate in the frame. With grim determination Lily faced the door. "Come on then, you bastard. Come and get some."
The door crashed open, tearing off its top hinge. A man in black stood at the threshold. His aura crackled around him. "Stand aside woman and I will let you live. Another has laid claim to your life and promised his servitude in exchange," he said, peering at the child staring back at him with the green eyes of his mother.
"Fuck you," Lily growled in defiance. She backed to the crib putting herself between the Dark Lord and her son. Her hands gripped the crib rails. Harry's little hands patted hers as he cried for his mum.
"Foul mouthed mud blood. You had your chance," the man countered, slinging his own insult. He raised his wand menacingly and pointed it at the pretty red haired woman. "Ava..."
oOo
"Abracadabra!" Dudley shouted in Harry's ear scaring him out of his daymare.
Harry jerked to attention. A warm flow released across his thighs and ran down his legs onto the floor. The perimeter of water around Harry grew.
"What the?" Dudley cried out, looking at the puddle he was standing in. His trainers squeaked as he jumped back out of the urine.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA! Harry pissed himself!" Dudley cawed. His hand wavered with hilarity as he pointed at his cousin.
Absolute horror consumed Harry. In a moment of disbelief he dropped his hands to his sides, splashing the puddle surrounding him. His face burned in shame. A red hue blossomed from the tip of his nose to the top of his ears. Not wanting to hear the taunts and cruel words that were sure to follow he jumped to his feet. Although, he slipped and fell to his knees in his haste to flee. He quickly clambered to his feet again and bolted from the room.
Hannah and Susan were on their feet in an instant, glaring at Dudley with identical grimaces of anger.
"That's it!" Neville yelled and launched himself from the floor. He slammed into Dudley sending them both reeling recklessly around the kitchen. Neville slid an arm around Dudleys neck putting the bully in a headlock.
With an angry roar Dudley pushed them towards Hannah, knocking her down. He continued the headlong charge into the kitchen cabinets. Neville's back slammed into the counter and Dudley bounced his head off the door painfully.
Hannah and Susan squealed when the boys crashed to the floor. They rolled around in a knot of arms and legs, trying to get on top of each other. Dudley was running out of steam fast. He wasn't used to any resistance or fighting his own battles.
Neville struggled his way to the top and straddled Dudley who started to buck like a wild bronco. Dudley nearly threw Neville off. To keep himself upright, Neville's right hand slapped down on the floor next to Dudley's head.
Dudley seized his moment and grabbed a fist full of Neville's hair. Neville yelped when Dudley pulled his hair then he became enraged. Grimacing in pain Neville curled his left hand into a fist and punched Dudley in the face twice. With Dudley's head resting on the ground each blow was a solid hit and was accompanied by a thud against the wood floor. The first blow bloodied Dudley's nose and blackened his eye. The second hit knocked two teeth out.
oOo
Arabella stood facing Petunia. She didn't bother to ask the other woman to sit down; they wouldn't be staying long. Her chest swelled with a deep breath in an effort to maintain control. She was trying to be calm but the desire to take her pound of flesh was seductively whispering to Arabella.
Thoughts of how the system... no, Arabella herself, had failed Harry plagued her. Child services in the wizarding world was a one person department. Coordinating an adoption or placing an orphan was the core responsibility of the job. There were very few reported incidents of abuse. Magical children were usually home schooled until they attended Hogwarts. A child being reprimanded in public was accepted in their society. With glamours and no public schools an abusive home was easily concealed. In fact, Madam Pomfrey was often the first to find a child that had been abused. By that time few children would admit what happened. They were terrified of being pulled out of Hogwarts and being returned to their home, if they said anything. Very little could be done about it. Children were viewed as property in the eyes of the Ministry. Muggle born students were more fortunate. Teachers were trained to look for signs of abuse and were required to report it. There were not as many abused muggle born students.
Arabella was scathing mad that she, a talented senior Auror, had failed Harry so miserably. After another deep breath she said, "No, Petunia, Harry will never be returned to you. I have consulted a metaphysician. Harry's abuse has been thoroughly documented and reported."
Petunia glared at Arabella. She crossed her arms, standing her ground and making no attempt to speak. I will not be your play thing Figg. We will see what happens. It's not like Harry hasn't told anyone before.
Seeing that Petunia had calmed down, Arabella canceled the silencing charm.
"You may speak now," she said.
"You cannot simply take Harry. Nothing has been proven. You are a kidnapper. Return Harry to me now and I will not press charges," Petunia answered.
Augusta entered the room hearing the horse-faced woman's reply.
"Muggle law is not Wizard law. The Ministry has ways of finding the truth. You have more to fear from what will be found if the authorities are contacted than Mrs Figg does," Augusta answered, coming to stand at Arabella's side.
Petunia arched an eyebrow. "Shall we see what happens? No matter who is contacted Harry will be returned to me or taken away. You have no claim to him. There are homes for orphans. Let them take him away. I don't care, but you do," Petunia said triumphantly knowing she was right.
Sparks flew from the tip of Arabella's wand. "There are other choices," she threatened.
"Ha. Even I know that your kind are not supposed to use magic against us," Petunia bluffed hoping that nothing would happen. A variety of thoughts surfaced; Albus erasing the teachers' memories, her parents dying at Lily's wedding and the Potters being slain.
Augusta grinned wickedly reading Petunia's thoughts.
"What you say might be true but only if it is discovered. How long have you and that coward of a husband been abusing Harry without anyone's knowledge, one year or two? I could steal your memory of our visit. You could wake up tomorrow and not even know your own name. There are many ways to settle this, Mrs Dursley. Be gone with your foul spawn and be glad I let you... leave."
The three women were locked in their battle and too preoccupied to hear the commotion in the kitchen. Lorraine looked back and forth, torn with indecision. The two witches seemed to be restraining themselves but Petunia would not budge. Keeping an eye on the situation with her wand in hand she was prepared to stop Arabella or Augusta from doing something they would regret later. Lorraine cautiously backed into the kitchen.
"Neville! Stop that. Get off him right now," Lorraine commanded now that she saw what was going on. This is what I expected from the ladies in the other room. Now I'm playing safety patrol in the kitchen.
Neville hesitated when he heard the scolding voice and Dudley punched him. Neville pulled back his fist again.
"I said NOW!" Lorraine emphasized her directive with a stinging hex to Neville's behind.
Neville jumped with a little cry of surprise and rolled off Dudley. Who gave a parting kick to Neville's back.
Lorraine did not miss the two cowardly shots to Neville and regretted stinging him. "That's enough out of you too," she warned the other boy.
Lorraine quickly looked Dudley over. The amount of blood on his face had her a little concerned but not much sympathy since the prat had continued to hit and kick at Neville.
"What has gotten into you?" She questioned Neville with a soft but firm voice. Her hand rubbed Neville's shoulder conveying that she was more concerned than mad. All three children were on Lorraine in that instant. Their mouths were running non-stop trying to tell everything that had happened.
"Stop! Take a break all of you," she said irritably then waved her wand sending three chairs to opposite corners one after another. "Now sit until I come for you. No talking, calm down and think of what you have to say when I come back. Not you. I'm cleaning you up then you're going home," she said taking Dudley by the arm and leading him to the kitchen sink.
Dudley was wide eyed at the display of magic. He leaned away fearfully from the wand brandishing woman.
Neville was quick to comply, after the stinging hex, but Hannah and Susan were a bit more reluctant. Lorraine stood taller and gave them the 'look' to speed them along.
At the sink, Lorraine gently wiped away the blood from the sniffling boy's face. She was surprised when she found pox marks lining his jaw. Lorraine pulled his sleeve up, exposing his arm and saw more crusted over red blemishes. He's a wizard!
Lorraine packed several ice cubes into a towel. She surveyed the damage once again shaking her head. Dudley had clearly been on the receiving end of the fight. He had a shiner, bloody nose and lost two teeth. Neville had thoroughly worked him over. "Hold this to your eye," she instructed Dudley.
The argument had concluded by the time that Lorraine guided Dudley back into the living room.
"Dudders! What did they do to you?" Petunia asked, glaring accusingly at the three witches.
"I don't know. What I do know is that there are three children waiting to tell me what happened and all of them said one thing in common, Dudley." Lorraine said heatedly and looked Petunia in the eye.
"They're just ganging up on my poor boy. It's YOUR kind against us," Petunia retorted.
To everyone's surprise Lorraine laughed boisterously. "Oh, are you really that naive? They were in the kitchen less than five minutes. It will be interesting to hear how he managed to anger all three of them."
"Harry must have told more lies about my boy. Wicked evil lies!"
"He wasn't in the room, just three children who had never set eyes on Dudley before he walked into the kitchen." Lorraine's eyes shined when she dropped the bomb. "Dudley is a wizard too or he would have never come down with Dragon Pox. His pox marks are crusted over and beginning to dry out. I would guess that he gave it to Harry."
"Lies! It's all lies. My son would never be one of your lot! Come on Dudley," Petunia grabbed Dudley's hand and headed for the front door. The door slammed behind them on the way out and the three witches laughed.
"Arabella, I think you need to go see the Prewitts. It would be best if your child advocacy papers were approved today. Amelia said she just needs the documents. I am going to analyze your wards to see if I can add a 'Notice Me Not' charm to keep Muggles away," Augusta started ordering.
"I can take care of that myself, Augusta," Arabella contested.
"Wards have never been your forte dear. Besides, only you can fill out the forms with the lawyers," Augusta replied haughtily.
"Keep arguing and none of it will get done," Lorraine chimed in. "I'll take care of the children while you secure the fortress and you go secure Harry's custody." With that Lorraine turned on her heel to go find Harry.
Arabella and Augusta smiled as they watched Lorraine leave.
"The woman does have a backbone when her knickers get in a twist. I think she will fit in nicely," Arabella said.
"Quite nicely, the girls are very well behaved too. We should accept her offer to watch the children. We will probably need to leave frequently until this is settled, " Augusta answered amiably.
"Thank you for helping, Augusta. I don't think I could do this alone," Arabella said sincerely.
"Don't thank me until we are finished. There is much left to do," Augusta replied.
"You fully briefed the Prewitts?"
"Yes. They may need to be updated with this afternoon's event. Ask their advice for dealing with the Ministry. Amelia may be on our side but she is only one voice. Check to see if the lawsuit against Gringotts is ready. When Master Orelink obtains the list of attendees for the Potter Family Will the lawsuit needs to be filed."
Augusta went outside to find the ward foundations and the residual power source. Magical real estate was at a premium. The oldest families held the best properties. The manors were built on magical reservoirs. The reservoirs fueled the wards. The oldest families had the best protection. A few estates had wards nearly as powerful as Hogwarts. Arabella's home was in a muggle neighborhood and had only been occupied the last four years.
She pressed against the ward with a mild hex, testing the strength. The wards might keep a fifth year Hogwarts student out but any fully trained wizard could apparate in if they knew the location. The floo isn't much better. I will have to express the importance of relocating to Longbottom Manor soon. On the bright side it won't take long to add a 'Notice Me Not' charm.
Looking up to the house she noticed all four Kneazles watching her from a window. She also noticed a concealed but potent source of power beneath the home itself. Oh, clever girl. The wards are attuned to your familiars as an early warning system. You've been conserving the energy. With your field experience, maintaining a strong offense is playing to your strength. Anyone looking for a fight is in for a big surprise.
Lorraine noted that the children were where she had left them. They all turned to look at her when she walked in. "Where's Harry?" she asked them.
From the children's myriad of responses Lorraine filtered out that Harry had run into the parlor. "Thank you. Now back to your corners," she said, motioning with her hands. There were some groans of discontent at the order.
She found Harry huddled in a corner with his knees curled up against his chest. His wet nightshirt clung to Harry's skinny little body.
"Harry dear, are you all right?" Lorraine called gently as she approached.
Harry hesitantly lifted his face to squint at her. His little face defined misery. Clips of excited twittering from the children of 'Dudley did this' and 'Dudley did that' ran through her mind. That horrible little boy!
"Oh Harry. You poor boy. Here, let me help you," Lorraine said, lifting him to his feet.
Harry awkwardly peeled the nightgown from his legs and sniffled his nose. He barely choked out, "I'm wet," in a blubbering voice.
"It's alright, you just had a little accident. We'll get you cleaned up," she said taking Harry by his hand and leading him to the bathroom.
His little hand shook in hers all the way to the bathroom as he cried shamefully.
"Shhhh. It's OK," Lorraine soothed wadding up the soiled nightshirt to his armpits before pulling it over his head in an attempt to keep it out of his face
She kept a comforting hand on his shoulder while she turned on the shower and waited for it to reach a luke-warm temperature. "Come on, in you go," Lorraine called in a friendly voice.
Armed with a bar of soap and a washcloth Lorraine set about cleaning Harry up. The water loosened the sticky treat and she was able to remove it with only a few lost hairs. She smirked at the gray lines running around his torso, remembering Arabella's offer to show her a pensieve of Harry's game of connect the dots. When she turned him to clean his backside, she stopped cold. Those ruddy bastards. How could they? He's just a little boy.
Arabella walked into the kitchen and smiled when she saw Hannah, Neville and Susan each sitting quietly in a corner. The curious children craned in their seats to watch her but didn't move or say anything. Noticing a slightly yellow puddle in the middle of the floor, she gazed around the room. Her keen eyes spied Harry's lenses beneath the kitchen table. After a quick cleaning charm, she crouched down and picked up Harry's glasses.
Where's Harry? Arabella mentally questioned her familiars. A link from Snowy opened giving a brief glimpse of Harry being washed by Lorraine in the shower.
Lorraine was helping Harry out of the shower when Arabella arrived. She picked up the wet nightshirt and smelled it. A faint odor of urine confirmed her suspicion.
The younger woman was startled to find Arabella within arms length of her holding Harry's dirty clothes. She patted her heart and gave a happy laugh. "I didn't even hear you. I think you may have scared one of my lives out of me," she joked.
"Sorry about that," Arabella replied with a wry grin which didn't look sorry at all. She pulled a towel from the rack and helpfully handed it to Lorraine. She was pleased to see that Lorraine patted Harry dry instead of rubbing him and aggravating his pox marks.
"Here is the anti itching salve and a clean nightshirt," Arabella said, laying out the items to be used.
Harry edged around Lorraine as she applied the salve to him. A nervous hand snuck its way into Arabella's. He waited patiently to be taken care of but turned to Arabella to be dressed. Once a fresh nightshirt was donned, Harry held his arms out to Arabella wanting to be held.
Arabella picked him up and gave him a hug. He rested his head on her shoulder in response and his hand drifted up to its usual place to tug on her collar.
"I'll just tidy up in here. Why don't you go sit down with Harry for a little bit, before you go," Lorraine suggested.
They went to the parlor and Arabella sat down in a rocker with Harry. She hummed a little tune to Harry as they rocked.
"Nobody will like me anymore," Harry mumbled sadly into Arabella's shoulder.
"What?" She asked not understanding what he had said.
With a loud sniff Harry repeated himself. "Nobody will like me anymore."
"I still like you," she replied and kissed his forehead reassuringly.
"No, not you," Harry said exasperatedly.
"Neville and the girls?" Arabella asked trying not to be to hurt by his callous dismissal.
Why is he worried about that? Not only does Neville enjoy playing with Harry, he has shown an interest in his well being. I am assuming Neville fought with Dudley in Harry's defense. Hannah and Susan are sweet little girls. They seem to like him too.
"Yeah," Harry said in a little voice. He started to anxiously run his hands down his silky nightshirt repeatedly.
"Why wouldn't they like you? The four of you were happy playing together this afternoon?" Arabella asked with concern.
"Jus' cause," he said in a shallow attempt to avoid answering truthfully.
She held up Harry's chin and looked him in the eye. "That is not a good answer. Why would you think that they won't like you anymore?"
His green eyes glittered apprehensively at her. "Dudley. Nobody plays with me because of Dudley. He's mean to me and beats up anyone who talks to me."
"Dudley will probably never see them (or you, she thought to herself) again. Nor will you return to your former school. I will see to your education in another manner. Everyone seems to like you Harry. I don't think you have anything to worry about. If they don't like you for who you are, then they are not very good friends."
Harry shook his chin free and turned away from Mrs Figg's probing eyes. "They'll laugh at me now," Harry said pitifully. It made him sick to his stomach thinking about how they would laugh at him after wetting himself. They even knew some of the names he was called at school.
Arabella studied Harry. His head hung dejectedly and his breathing had become jagged. She could see his lip quivering. He was on the verge of crying again. "Why would they laugh at you, Harry? What did Dudley do?"
Harry loathed himself for it. The humiliation of doing that in front of everyone. "Dudley scared me and I pissed m'self," Harry sobbed.
"Shhhh, you're fine. Nobody will laugh. I think your friends will surprise you by how understanding they can be," she counseled the embarrassed boy.
"Ya think so?" Harry yawned his question.
"I know so," she assured him then started to hum to him again. After a few minutes she felt him relax in her arms and knew he would be asleep soon. Petunia and Dudley's visit really stressed him out. He's getting fussy again, a nap will do him good.
"Lorraine," Arabella whispered as she stood up with Harry.
"Yes," Lorraine answered coming over.
"I need to go. Will you take him? He prefers to be held when he's upset," she offered as a quick explanation as to why she didn't simply put Harry to bed.
Lorraine smiled happily and took Harry. She had wanted to hold him all afternoon anyway. Harry grumbled incoherently in protest at being relocated.
"Scratch his head and he'll settle down," Arabella suggested.
Lorraine took the suggestion and to her delight Harry hummed his appreciation. "I'll find out what happened. I have a pretty good idea but I told the kids to think about what they wanted to say as part of their time out. We can talk about it when you get back."
The floo bathed the room in an emerald hue and enlarged to transport Mrs Figg to Diagon Alley.
Headmaster Albus Dumbledore was reading an owl from Ragnok in his office when the floo flared to life. He swiveled in his chair to see Petunia Dursley's head glaring at him from his fire. This does not bode well. She only floos me under dire circumstances.
"Albus, you didn't tell me Mrs Figg was one of your kind," the woman immediately shrieked. Is she some sort of spy for you? Well, I've got news for you. She has Harry and won't give him back. I would've just taken him but she had some friends who threatened me. What are you going to do about it?"
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. Mrs Figg has taken Harry and someone has placed an inquiry regarding the reading of the Potters' Will.
"That is interesting, Petunia. Is there a reason why Mrs Figg would take Harry?" The aged headmaster asked with a dangerous gleam in his eye.
Petunia answered in a tremulous voice, "Harry has Dragon Pox and has given it to Dudley. One of those women said Dudley is a... a wizard."
"Stand back, I'm coming through." Albus commanded.
Thank you for reading the chapter. Please take a minute to leave a review. All comments are welcome.
A/N: There is a scene inspired by a great movie. Can anyone name it?