- Kayli -

Wow. I've never actually seen a neighborhood where all the houses manage to look alike while being completely different styles. It's very, very depressing.

"It's that one," Harry says, and points. "Number 4."

I glance around. "This is a distressingly normal neighborhood," I tell them. "I keep wanting to see castles."

Harry laughs. "I know!"

I square my shoulders under the coat and walk up the walk. I ring the bell, glance at the fancy car in the drive, and shake my head. The door snaps open, and I smile at the woman in the doorway. She has a long nose, a horsey face, and an excess of neck. The only neck I've seen longer was on a goose.

I give her my best polite smile. "Hi. Mrs. Petunia Dursley?"

She smiles back. Sort of. It's more like a grimace. "Yes?"

"I was wondering if I could speak to you and your husband privately," I say, still smiling.

She peers around, to see if the neighbors are looking, from what Harry says. Then she gives a sharp little gesture to invite me in. I guess the clothes didn't come out as well as I was hoping. I am SO keeping this skirt anyway.

I take a seat on the couch and take the cup of tea she offers me. Her husband is large. And I mean LARGE. He has a huge mustache, and very little neck. I guess that makes up for his wife having extra. He's leering at me. That's very unpleasant. I start to twist my ring around my finger. Maybe he'll notice the WEDDING RING on my finger. Or maybe remember the wedding ring on his own.

I take a sip of my tea and smile. "I need to speak with you about your nephew."

And just like that, the leer is gone. If I wasn't armed, somebody that large turning that shade of purple would be threatening. But thankfully, I'm carrying three knives, and there's a scary man with a wand outside. I should be ok. And don't take the wand comment the wrong way. I know how you people think.

"We don't have a nephew," he snarls. It would probably be an impressive snarl, if I hadn't come face-to-snarl with many professional snarlers. I hang on to my professional, polite smile.

"You DO have a nephew," I inform him firmly, "and most of the time, you manage to ignore and degrade him, and ignore the fact that he's in nearly constant danger. But you are going to have to live with it. Lord Voldemort has you marked for death."

Mrs. Dursley lets out a strangled little scream. I set down my tea and bolt into the kitchen. I get some cold water from the faucet and hurry back in. I press the cup into her hands and sit her down. "Breathe, Mrs. Dursley. You need to breathe, or you're going to pass out."

She manages to nod. "Why us?"

Mr. Dursley explodes. "It's because of that no good little...little BASTARD!"

OK, that's it. NOW I'm pissed. "HEY! Look, I hate to break it to you, No-Neck, but it's not Harry's fault! It must be nice to be able to pin all of your petty bullshit on that kid, but even if his parents died, or if he had gone to his godfather, Voldemort would probably still be coming after you! Probably not this soon, but you'd be dead anyway! You're not magical, and that means you're marked, Dursley. Live with it."

Yes, I realize there's no way I know that. I'm jumping to conclusions. Shh. I won't tell if you don't.

I sigh and pull on one of my braids. It's a habit I have. If my hair is loose, I run my hands through it. If it's tied up, or bound, I just pull on it. This is how I get a lot of my headaches. Right now, I'm wishing I knew the whole story. At this exact moment, I'm wishing I'd read all of the Harry Potter books, instead of just skimming through them. Maybe THEN I'd know this shit.

Mrs. Dursley draws in a deep, shuddering breath. "Yes," she says, and takes another deep breath. "You're right, of course. I'm Lily's sister. If she hadn't died...well, I'd be marked anyway, because she wouldn't have stopped fighting him, and neither would have her husband. He would have tried to kill us just because I was related to Lily and you married me."

Mr. Dursley just gapes at her. She stares at her toes. "I'm sorry, Vernon," she whispers, and wipes her eyes.

God, this is horrible. This just makes me remember visiting families to inform them their loved ones are dead. "It's not your fault, Mrs. Dursley," I say gently. "But we need to get you out of here."

Mr. Dursley draws up to his full height. "We, miss, are not going anywhere." He takes a deep breath and prepares to launch off. I roll my eyes and keep his wife drinking. "We've had nothing but trouble since that little monster came to live with us!" he yells. "He blows up my sister, ruins my promotion, sics his crazy godfather on us, brings those freaks to our HOME, has that strange man with the peg leg THREATEN us - US- and sics those dementoids on our SON!"

"Is he always like this?" I ask his wife.

She giggles.

"And what's a dementoid?" I ask.

She giggles again. Then she wipes her eyes on her apron and stands up. "She's right, Vernon."

He puffs out his chest. "She most certainly is not!" he bellows. "And I refuse to leave this house because some - some FREAK thinks we might be threatened by some other freak!"

OK, I have had ENOUGH of this pompous windbag. I slam the glass down on the table. "You wouldn't know the truth if it walked up and bit your mustache!" I snap.

He gets in my face, which is the worst thing he can do. I do NOT like people in my face. I stand up, which isn't as threatening as it would've been had he been about fifty pounds lighter. "I KNOW THE TRUTH ABOUT ALL OF YOU!" he bellows. "YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT WE'VE PUT UP WITH WHILE HE'S BEEN HERE!"

"BUT I KNOW WHAT HE'S HAD TO PUT UP WITH WHILE HE'S BEEN HERE!" I shriek back, stealing his caps lock. "HE'S PUT UP WITH CONSTANT BEATINGS, BEING LOCKED IN THE CUPBOARD UNDER THE STAIRS!"

I take deep breath and an make an attempt to reel my temper back in. "You have done nothing to deserve even saying that you're RELATED to him, let alone that you're his mother's brother-in-law." I toss one of my braids back behind my shoulder. "Where's your son?"

Petunia sniffles. "He's at one of his little friends, he's so popular, you know..."

Uh-huh. Yeah. Of course he is. Parental denial is a beautiful thing. I wish MY parents had suffered from it. But the always knew what I was doing, even when I tried to deny it. "Yeah, of course he is. When is he gonna be home?"

Petunia sniffles again. "In a few hours."

I sigh and pull on my hair. I'm gonna have a headache, and not just from the hair-pulling. "Can you call him, or something?"

Vernon puffs out his chest again. I am getting so sick of listening to this pompous windbag. He launches into another spiel. "We are not LEAVING!"

I stand up, folding my arms over my chest. "Yeah? Would you rather just stay here, and, oh, DIE?"

He glares at me. His mustache bristles when he does that. I try to hang on to my angry expression. It looks like he has a mouse under his nose. I try not to giggle. "YOU HAVE NOT RIGHT TO TELL US WHAT TO DO AND WHERE TO GO!"

I sigh. Harry was right when he said they were overly difficult. I suddenly remember who's waiting outside, and smirk. "Hey, do remember the guy from the train station? King's Cross, right? The one with the peg leg and the weird eyes?"

Petunia lets out a squeak. Vernon goes from purple to pale. It's something rather surprising. I didn't know people could change color that fast. It's probably not healthy. I smile, unpleasantly. "He's waiting outside."

Mrs. Dursley sniffles. "I'll call the Polkisses." And she bolts for the next room.

I fold my arms, sit down on the couch, and wait.

After a minute, Vernon clears his throat. "So...where are you going to take us?"

I smile at him, the slyest, most unpleasant smile I can manage. "Hogwarts."

- Harry -

She's been in there way too long. It's starting to make me nervous. Not that Uncle Vernon's hurt her, more like Kayli's hurt Uncle Vernon. I wouldn't worry about anyone else, but with her, it's kind of hard to tell. She's got a temper.

Oh, this is horrible. I look around at everybody else. Moody's pacing, muttering something that sounds like 'Constant Vigilance.' Tonks is routinely changing the color of her hair. Remus is pacing and smoking. I didn't even know he smoked. Of course, a lot of things have changed since Sirius died. He might not have smoked before Sirius died.

He thinks I don't know about him and Sirius. I think they thought I'd be offended. Or maybe disgusted.

I'm not. I wouldn't have been, if they'd told me. But Sirius was on the run, and Remus is a werewolf, and they had enough trouble without adding worrying about how I would react to the whole thing. Or the Weasleys. I don't reckon Mrs. Weasley would have been thrilled, knowing what her children would be exposed to. Like it's contagious or something.

Remus lights another cigarette off the butt of the other one, then drops it and crushes it out with his shoe. He's nervous. I've only ever seen people smoke like that when they were nervous.

Not that I've seen very many people smoke. The Dursleys wouldn't let any one smoke in THEIR nice clean house, oh no. Never.

Kayli comes out a few minutes later. She actually looks very nice in the clothes Hermione and Professor MacGonagall made for her. She walks in that skirt like she wears one all the time. And maybe she does.

Remus eyes her. Moody comes to a stop and glares at her. Tonks peers at her in some kind of fascination, like she's looking at some kind of strange new breed.

"They agreed?" Moody growls.

Kayli nods. "Aye, sir."

Tonks snickers. Moody gives her a nasty glare, then stumps away, muttering about the 'younger generation' and 'not taking their work seriously' and 'nobody respects their elders anymore.' Tonks rolls her eyes. Remus is still looking intently at Kayli.

"How did you get them to change their minds?" he asks.

Kayli shrugs. "I threatened them."

Moody brightens. "Good girl."

She dips a little curtsy. She makes that looks absolutely perfect, like she's used to doing it. "Thank you, kind sir."

Tonks peers at her intently. "You don't look very threatening. I mean, no offense, but you don't really l look like you could swat a fly."

Kayli just kind of smiles, a sad little smile. "Appearances can be deceiving."

Tonks just shakes her head.

A few minutes later, the Dursleys come piling out of the house, Dudley with them. I don't know what he told his gang. Or his 'little friends,' as Aunt Petunia likes to call them.

"Well, boy?" Uncle Vernon growls. "What have you got to say for yourself?"

Kayli steps in between us. "He doesn't have to say anything to you. We need to get going, Mr. Dursley. Now."

Dudley glares at the car. "We can't all fit in THERE."

Kayli rolls her eyes. "It's magically enhanced, genuis. Let's get moving. Hey, you! Smelly guy behind the wheel! Pop the trunk?"

"Wassat?"

"Open the boot, Dung," Remus calls.

Kayli rolls her eyes. "How fitting," she mutters.

Dudley drops his bags. "I'm not leaving," he says. "I won't go."

Dung pops the boot open. Kayli grabs Dudley's bags, tosses them in, then whirls to face Dudley. "Listen to me carefully, Moby Dick. If you do not get in the car, you are going to die. If you stay here, you are going to die. Do you understand that?"

Dudley glares at him, his lower lip trembling. For once, I don't think he's doing it on purpose. "It's his fault," he snaps, and glares at me.

Kayli rolls her eyes. "Get in the car, Slimer. Let's go."

I break down laughing. Kayli makes a shooing motion at Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Dudley stays where he is, even when they get in.

"Get. In. The. Bloody. Car," Kayli growls.

"Listen, son - " Remus starts.

"Don't call me that!" Dudley yells.

Kayli grabs him by the collar and throws him at the car. "Just get in the fucking car," she snaps. "Remus, you ride with them." She waves a hand at me. "You, Harry, up front with the smelly guy. Blue-haired chick, you and me are taking the Portkey. If I have to ride with that kid, I'll kill him."

I grin. Finally. This might be kind of wrong, but I'm enjoying the hell out of this. After all the crap Dudley's always given me, it's nice to see him get his ass handed to him. By a girl smaller than he is. I climb in next to Dung. Life might not be too good, but it's not as bad as it was.

TBC...