Harriet Potter Year 2: The Dreams of Yesterday
"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."
~Albert Einstein
Harriet Potter, Potter Manor- June 10, 1992
"You can't let his happen!"
"She is not stepping foot in that house, even if I have to kidnap her myself!"
"Albus-"
"Augusta!"
"Can somebody please pass the sugar?" Harriet asked over the din of the room. For a moment, silence fell over them all, and Harriet relished it. The moment that her mother handed her the pot of sugar for her tea, however, the roar in the room rose again, pounding in her ears.
Harriet groaned and placed her head between her knees, not even bothering to try her tea. She wasn't in the mood for it anyways.
After the chaos of the trial, Harriet, her parents, Dumbledore, Augusta, Remus, Sirius, Ron, and Hermione had all returned to Harriet's house, which explained the particularly large amount of conversation. Harriet and her two friends were seated side-by-side on the couch as the adults argued and bickered and generally tried-but-failed to come up with a solution to their predicament.
"I still don't understand why you didn't prosecute them immediately," Neville's grandmother griped. "It would have saved us a lot of trouble."
Harriet's mum glared at her sharply. "We meant, too, but we were just so happy to get Harriet back. Then she went away to school and this whole Stone business started..." She trailed off. Augusta gave her a sympathetic pat on the arm.
"Don't worry, I am sure we can figure something out."
"If we don't, there's always Sirius's kidnapping idea," commented Remus drily from his position in the corner of the room. Sirius scowled at his schoolmate.
"Alright," he conceded after a moment, "not my best plan. But can you blame me for being a bit panicked?"
Harriet looked down at her tea as silence once again fell over the room. She hated causing people trouble- especially people she cared about so deeply. She bit her lip and glanced sideways at Ron and Hermione. Hermione was primly sipping her tea, while surreptitiously glancing at Harriet worriedly. Ron, on the other hand, was simply stuffing himself with the finger sandwiches that Harriet's mother had laid out.
"Maybe somebody could stay with her?" Lily suggested. "With a bit of charms work, we could make the house larger-"
"No contact between Harriet and the magical community is to occur over the during the investigation without Ministry approval."
"There goes that idea," James said, wringing his hands through his hair.
"I'm sorry," Augusta said, "but their ruling is sound. We have no grounds for a complaint."
"Of course we do! Those ba-" Sirius choked, recoiling under Lily's glare. "Ah, jerks treated her like sh- cra- garbage for ten fu- Blimey! This is hard!"
Dumbledore gave a sympathetic chuckle. "If we submit charges against the Dursleys, it will take at least a few weeks. As much as it pains me, for the time being, we have no choice but to send Harriet-"
"No!" Harriet's father protested, jumping up from his seat. "She is not going back to that place! Not for a few weeks, not for a days- not for a few minutes, damn it!"
"Its okay, dad," Harriet offered. Everybody turned their incredulous gazes at her.
"No," her father said after a minute. "It isn't 'okay.'"
Harriet sat up straighter, feeling just a tad insulted. "Why not? I lived there for ten years. I think I can handle a couple of weeks."
"No. You can't." He told her curtly. She scowled. "Why not?"
"Because." He muttered, tugging at his already messy hair."
"Because why?" she prodded, determined. If her staying at the Dursleys' was the easiest course of action, she wanted to know why her father was so against it. He turned around to face her and she could see that his eyes were slightly red.
"Because I promised you!"
Harriet blinked.
"We're sorry that you had to go live with them, but I promise that you will never have to go live with them again."
Harriet bit her lip. "It'll be okay, dad."
Her father didn't say anything, just continued his pacing. Augusta gave Ron and Hermione a look, ushering them out of the room, along with herself, Remus, Sirius, and Dumbledore. Harriet's parents both sat next to her, neither of them said a word.
She felt an arm wrap around her neck and leant into her father's embrace, shifting her position to allow herself to bury her face in his chest and wrap her arms around him, too. Her mother rubbed soothing circles on her back.
The three of them simply sat that way for a long time, each trying to accept the hand that fate had dealt them.
Harriet Potter, 4 Privet Drive Little Whinging, Surrey-June 12, 1992
"Thought we'd finally gotten rid of you."
Those were the first words Vernon Dursley sneered when Harriet stepped foot into his house a few days later.
Nothing has changed then. Harriet bit back a sigh and looked around. The foyer looked unchanged. She turned back around to look at her uncle, who was eyeing both her parents and their two friends with distaste as they entered the house.
"Lets make this quick," her father said firmly. "We don't want to be here. You don't want us here. But before we get started, we are going to get one thing straight: You will treat us with respect. If you so much as think the word "freak," we will hex you into oblivion."
Vernon grunted and led the four other adults into the kitchen for paperwork. Harriet was left standing awkwardly in the hall for a minute until her aunt emerged from the living room, wringing her hands.
"You'll be staying in Dudley's spare room," she told Harriet. Her voice just dared Harriet to protest these living arrangements. Harriet tried to put a thankful smile on her face, but it probably just came out as a grimace.
Harriet headed upstairs, taking two steps at a time. As she passed by Dudley's room, the door opened a crack and Dudley's beady eyes peered out. The moment he saw her, however, the door slammed shut. Harriet stifled a giggle and walked into her room for the next few months.
Back when Harriet had still lived with the Dursleys, this particular room had been Dudley's second bedroom. Any of Dudley's broken toys, forgotten books, and outdated video games were carelessly thrown into this room.
She could tell that the Dursleys had made some sort of attempt at clearing it up (no doubt afraid that Harriet would turn them into a balloon if she didn't), but the room was still a far cry from her room back home.
Better than a cupboard, she decided, dropping her rucksack on the cot that had been added to the center of the room. She recognized it as the same one she used to use in her cupboard, but it looked as though Aunt Petunia had cleaned it and thrown the sheets in the wash, along with some new bedding. She sat down heavily and let out a sigh. She had a feeling that she was going to be very lonely while she was here. They had managed to get Ministry approval for her to contact both the Weasleys and Hermione's family, but that was it. Any contact with her family would have to be made through them or unofficially with the help of the mirrors.
Harriet stood up and walked over to the window. She tried to open it, but it was a bit stuck. She gave it a hard tug and almost fell over backwards when it gave. Harriet stuck her head outside and looked around, making sure that Hedwig would have enough room to get out.
She shut the window and moved back to the center of the room, intent on tracking down her parents, but a small creak below her feet brought her to a standstill. She crouched downwards and lightly tapped the floorboard. Hearing a slightly hollow sound, Harriet began to try and pry it open. It took a few failed attempts, but, eventually, the floorboard opened loosely. She squeaked indignantly as she flew backwards, landing on her butt.
Crawling back up, she felt a smile spread across her face as she looked at the loose space she had uncovered.
Better not let the Dursleys see this, she resolved, running her hands over some of the corners to remove some of the cobwebs.
"Well, well, well!" Harriet jumped and looked up, breath caught in her throat. She let it out when she realized that it was just her parents: her aunt and uncle nowhere in sight.
"Good eye, Prongslette," her father congratulated. She smiled at him appreciatively as he squatted down next to her to help her put the floorboard back in place.
Her mother took out her shrunken bag and trunk from her pocket, placed them on the floor, and returned them to their normal size. She nodded, satisfied. "There."
Harriet's father took the opportunity to look around the room. "Not too shabby," he muttered. Harriet nodded in agreement. Harriet' mother sat down on the bed and gestured Harriet over to her. Harriet and her father followed.
"It will only be for a little bit, Harriet," her mum said. Harriet nodded, not sure if she was reassuring herself or Harriet. "You'll be home before you know it."
"We've talked to the Dursleys," her father took over, when he realized that his wife was having a hard time keeping herself together, "and they've assured us that you will be treated with the utmost respect while you are here."
Harriet was skeptical, but decided that it was best not to say anything.
"Of course, if they don't, then you could always threaten to curse them," commented Sirius from the doorway. Remus, who was standing next to him and holding Hedwig's cage, shook his head exasperatedly.
"Underage wizards aren't allowed to use magic."
"Yes, thank you, Remus. I know that, but the Dursleys don't!"
Harriet's dad chuckled appreciatively, then grew somber. "We need to go."
Harriet nodded quietly, not really sure what to say. "Take care of Isaura for me?"
"Of course, love," her mother assured her. Harriet gladly let herself be wrapped up in a large hug.
They all gave their final farewells and, with a pop, were gone. Harriet sat down on the bed again.
The room was quiet, save Hedwig's soft hoots of comfort.
Harriet Potter, 4 Privet Drive Little Whinging, Surrey-June 29, 1992
Harriet had been at the Dursleys' house for a week. She had thought that, having lived with them for ten years, she would have very few problems now, but her short time with her parents, and then at Hogwarts, had spoiled her.
Her aunt, uncle, and cousin had all taken her magical items and stuffed them underneath the cupboard under the stairs. Harriet had managed to salvage her wand, her magical mirror, a Quidditch book, some paper, and a quill by stuffing everything under the floorboard (it had taken quite a bit of squeezing).
Poor Hedwig had been locked in her cage almost 'round the clock. The only way Harriet managed to stay in touch with the magical world was with her father's mirror. Ron and Hermione had been fantastic. Every time she called them, they were more than happy to insult the Dursleys with her.
She didn't tell them everything of course. She doubted that they would be happy to learn that she had taken up her old post as maid for the Dursleys.
Harriet stopped her work in the garden and took several deep breaths. The sun was beating down heavily on her and her back was aching from all the time she had spent crouched in the garden. When the Dursleys had assigned her this job, she had considered using magic to threaten Dudley to do it, but she decided that she should save that for another occasion.
She blinked, several times, to clear her vision. I must be going insane. That bush is staring at me.
Harriet glanced around furtively, before picking up her shovel and walking cautiously towards the bush. Two large, amber eyes stared back at her, unmoving. She went to take another step forward, but her Aunt's shrill voice called her inside.
She instinctively turned around, then, realizing that she shouldn't have taken her eyes off of the bush turned back around. The eyes were gone.
Imagining many different (and colorful) ways of killing her aunt and uncle, she trudged back to the kitchen. All three of her relatives were gathered there.
"You, girl," her uncle snapped as fiercely as he dared. Harriet raised an eyebrow at him to signify that he held her attention...or at least some of it. The rest of her attention was focused on Dudley's trousers, which were quickly slipping off of his fat bottom.
"Today," Harriet focused back on her uncle, "is a very important day in my career. This time next year, we could be vacationing in Florida."
"And by 'we' you mean 'you,' right?" Harriet clarified, although it was really unnecessary. "Not me."
Uncle Vernon bared his teeth and didn't bother to dignify her question with a proper answer. "While the Masons are here, I expect you to be in your room, understood? Even a peep out of you and you can forget about staying with us any longer. Are we clear?"
Harriet nodded, resisting the urge to tell him that she would do anything in the world (including making various "peep" related noises) if it meant that she no longer had to stay in this ridiculous household.
At her Uncle's nod of dismissal, Harriet raced up to her room and locked the door. She would no doubt be called back downstairs to help Aunt Petunia prepare dinner, but, for now, she could take the time to talk to Ron and Hermione.
She pulled her mirror out from the floorboard and softly called their names. It took a moment, but each of them eventually showed their faces.
"Harriet!" they chorused, making Harriet laugh as she greeted them.
"How are the Dursleys treating ya, mate?" Ron asked as he settled down on (what looked to be) his bed. Harriet shrugged.
"Not too badly. They haven't called me Freak once since I've been here, which is a definite improvement."
Hermione winced. "Is that really what they used to call you?"
Harriet opened her mouth to speak when some odd movement in the corner of the mirror caught her eye. It seemed that both of her friends noticed it, too, since they each brought the mirror closer to their faces.
"Did you see that?" she asked. Ron and Hermione both nodded. "What do you think it was?"
"Maybe some sort of glitch?" Ron questioned. Hermione nodded.
"We have been using the mirrors an awful lot, and they are very old. Maybe you should have your father look at them once you get home."
Harriet nodded, a small smile lighting up her face. She loved it when Ron or Hermione talked about her going home as if it were a definitive statement. It went unspoken, but the truth was, if the Ministry ruled against them, Harriet might never see her parents again. It wasn't very likely, but Harriet still felt a small knot of worry in her gut every time she thought about it.
"What are you doin' up in your room anyways, Harri?" Ron broke the silence. "Its a beautiful day...at least, over here at the Burrow."
Harriet snorted. "I just finished the gardening, Ron. You try spending three hours in that heat without a break. You'd want to spend your free time indoors, too."
"Blimey, Harriet," Ron winced. "They really work you over there, don't they?"
"Yea," Harriet acknowledged, "but keep it to yourselves, yea? The last thing we need is to go causing more trouble! If we keep a low profile, I might be back home in time before the summer is out!"
Hermione snorted. "Harriet, I love you, really I do, but let's be honest. You couldn't keep a low profile if you tried!"
"Can, too!" Harriet said petulantly. Hermione raised an eyebrow, but said nothing more. Ron stopped her before she could say anything else.
"Guess what?" he bombarded. Harriet blinked at his eager tone. "What?"
"Your family is coming over to the Burrow for dinner tonight. I reckon you could use the mirror and talk to them for a bit, yea?"
Harriet beamed. "That'd be brilliant!"
Her communication with her parents and two uncles had been limited to only a few letters. She missed them all dearly and couldn't wait for the day that she was finally back home. A voice from downstairs caught her attention and, in the mirror, both Ron and Hermione made faces.
"Duty calls?" Hermione inquired.
"Yea," Harriet stuck out her tongue. Bidding both her friends goodbye, she packed away her magical possessions and made her way downstairs. Sure enough, her aunt was waiting (im)patiently for her, spatula in hand. Harriet took a deep breath, washed her hands thoroughly, and got to work.
Harriet had never been more grateful for the sound of a doorbell. Her aunt, wearing a truly horrid salmon colored cocktail dress, shooed her out of the kitchen, handing her a loaf of bread and hunk of cheese as dinner.
She took the stairs two at a time to get to her room, shutting the door gently behind her. Pulling out her mirror, she gratefully sunk into the bed and began to nibble on her food, waiting patiently for her parents to show up. She rolled her eyes as she heard Dudley's simpering voice ask the Masons for their coats.
"Harriet," came a soft voice. Harriet almost cried when she saw the faces of both her mother and father staring at her from the mirror.
"Hello!" she said softly, taking another bite of bread. Her father frowned.
"Enjoying dinner?"
Harriet shook her head. "Just a snack," she lied, smoothly.
Her father visibly relaxed. "Well, then, what have you been doing? Keeping yourself busy?"
Harriet nodded eagerly. "I've been spending a lot of time outside."
Not a totallie.
The fact that she was outside gardening and mowing the lawn was irrelevant.
Completely.
"Thats good," Sirius chimed from somewhere behind her parents. Harriet giggled. He was now jumping up and down excitedly, waving his hands madly and trying to get into the shot. Harriet's mum chided him.
Harriet couldn't stop the loud guffaw that tore out of her. She could hear Dudley complimenting Mr. Mason by telling him all about a school report he had written. Seeing her parents's looks of confusion, Harriet hastened to explain the situation.
"Blimey," her father laughed. "I feel sorry for the Masons!"
"For once, I'm glad I'm up here," she admitted truthfully. "You should have seen the bow-tie Dudley had to wear."
"I'm glad I didn't," commented her mother drily, "since keeping a straight face has never really been my forte."
Harriet bit her lip to keep from laughing too hard. "I miss you," she said after a moment. Her mother's smile softened.
"We miss you, too, love," she said simply. "Don't worry, though, soon-"
Harriet's mum was cut off by a loud pop in Harriet's bedroom. Harriet's jaw dropped. "Merlin's beard."
"Harriet?" her father asked, suddenly concerned, "is everything alright?"
"Everything's fine," she said, her eyes not moving. "I've got to go, though. There's a house elf in my bedroom."
"Wait, what?" Cried her parents as Harriet muttered a quick "Love you," before disconnecting the mirror and placing it on the bed. The house-elf watched her quietly from its position near the door, its wide eyes fearful and awed. Hedwig hooted disapprovingly at his dirty pillow case, ruffling her pure, white feathers, warning the elf not to get her dirty.
"Hello," Harriet said, after some slight hesitation. The elf's bat-like ears flapped excitedly and he jumped up and down eagerly.
"Harriet Potter! Such an honor it is, little madam! Truly, an honor!"
"Thats quite a compliment," she said in response, "especially considering the fact that I've never met you. Whats your name, sir?"
"'Sir?'" The unnamed elf questioned. "Sir? Oh, Dobby has heard of your greatness, Harriet Potter, but never of your kindness!"
"Your name is Dobby, then?" Harriet clarified.
"Yes, miss," the little creature said, nodding so hard that Harriet was strongly reminded of one of those little bobble-heads that her Uncle Vernon used to keep in the car.
"Pleasure to meet you," Harriet offered. "Listen, though, now really isn't the greatest time to have a house-elf in my bedroom, so if you wouldn't mind coming back some other time, like, tomorrow, maybe. If its no trouble!" Harriet hastened as the elf lowered his head.
"Dobby offers his apologies to Miss Potter, but his errand his urgent, and he worries that he will not have another chance to warn her!"
"Warn me?" Harriet asked, now confused. "About what?"
"There is danger," he whispered, eyes wide, grabbing his ears in terror. "A great danger has come to Hogwarts!"
"Right," Harriet sighed. This might take awhile. "Well, why don't you sit down and tell me a bit more?"
"Sit down!" Dobby wailed. Harriet's eyes widened. She could hear her uncle clamoring up the stairs and hastened to both apologize, shush, and shove Dobby in a closet all at the same time. She just managed to get the door closed when her Uncle barged in.
"What the devil are you doing in here?"
"Nothing," Harriet said quickly. She nudged the closet door closed with her foot when Dobby tried to open it. Vernon scowled at her.
"Really? Then whats that, then?" Harriet looked to where he was pointing. She winced. In her haste, she had forgotten to replace the floorboard and hide her mirror.
"Ah," was all she managed to say.
"I'll deal with you later," he hissed venomously, walking past her and grabbing both her mirror and the items stored in the small cubby. "Just keep quiet!"
He closed the door firmly behind him and Harriet let out a sigh. She opened the closet door and pulled Dobby out.
"Are you mental?" she snapped angrily. "Are you trying to get me killed?"
"Never!" Dobby assured her. "Dobby only meant to warn Harriet Potter!"
"Thats the second time you've said that," Harriet resigned herself to the fact that she was going to spend a good majority of her night talking to a house-elf.
Alright then.
"What exactly is it that you mean? Warn me about what? Whats happening at Hogwarts?"
"Bad things, Miss Potter," Dobby rasped. Harriet frowned.
"Could you be more specific?"
"No!" Dobby denied. Harriet made a shushing motion with her hands and calmed him down. When he spoke again, he spoke much more quietly. "Dobby's masters have forbidden him from speaking of it. Dobby will have to punish himself most gravely for coming to warn you."
"Right," Harriet said with a sigh, running a hand through her hair. House-elves really were treated unfairly. "Well, we can't have that, can we? What can you tell me?"
Dobby said nothing.
"What if I guess? Would that work?" Dobby nodded vigorously. Harriet set her jaw in concentration. "Does it have anything to do with Voldemort?"
Dobby squeaked and Harriet apologized. "No," Dobby said, looking a bit pale. "It does not have to do with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Dobby's eyes were wide though. He seemed to be trying to give her a hint.
"Does he have a brother?" Dobby shook his head.
"Look," she said, finally, unable to think of anything else, "even if You-Know-Who was up to something, Hogwarts is still the safest place in all of Europe. Dumbledore is there...you have heard of Dumbledore, right?"
Dobby nodded. "Dumbledore is a great wizard, but there are things that even he does not understand. That no good wizard must know."
He said nothing else, so Harriet grumbled, annoyed. "Your masters really put you in a pickle, didn't they, Dobby?" Harriet's eyes brightened. "Can you tell me who they are? Maybe-"
But Dobby was already shaking his head. Harriet huffed. "They have something to do with this, though, right?"
Dobby nodded.
"Are you sure you can't say anything else?"
"Dobby is sorry, but he must obey his masters. He will say, however, that Harriet Potter must not return to Hogwarts this year. It is not safe."
Harriet shook her head. "No, Dobby. I have to go back. I need to get away from here. You've seen my Uncle! Whatever is waiting at Hogwarts can't be worse than him!"
"Oh, but it is," Dobby whispered darkly, pupils dilated. "So, Harriet Potter must promise Dobby that she will not return to Hogwarts!"
Harriet shook her head. "I can't do that, Dobby!"
"Then Dobby has no choice." Dobby popped out of her room and Harriet was left alone. She could hear her heart pounding in her chest as she pondered Dobby's words. What did that mean? She got her answer when she heard a light pop from downstairs, coming from what seemed to be the kitchen. Cursing her luck, Harriet crept downstairs as quietly as she could. She paused on the landing, crouched down to avoid being seen.
"Dobby?" she called out, hoping against hope that he would answer. He didn't, so she scowled and walked further into the house. She managed to sneak by the living room where her family was entertaining (well, not exactly) the poor Masons.
Sure enough, her instincts had been right. She found Dobby in the kitchen. He was levitating the cake that Aunt Petunia had so painstakingly prepared.
"Dobby," she demanded. He paused in his work to look at her. "As much as I would love to ruin Aunt Petunia's cake,- blimey, that thing is ugly- you can't! They'll be furious!"
"Harriet Potter must not return to Hogwarts!" He intoned, levitating the cake into the living room.
"But how is this going to help?" she demanded. Dobby just shook his head. Harriet, thinking quickly, darted into the living room, somehow ending up directly behind the Masons. Her uncle looked as though her were about to yell at her, but then he noticed the flying cake. His eyes widened and he seemed to choke on his words.
"Is everything alright?" came Mr. Mason's voice as Harriet's hands reached out, about to grab the cake.
"Dudley," gasped Aunt Petunia, frozen to the spot, "Isn't there something you wanted to tell the Masons?"
"Pudding," was all Dudley managed to squeak out. Harriet lunged for the cake, but it was no use: she was too late. The cake fell onto Mrs. Mason, and she screamed. Uncle Vernon tried desperately to calm them down, but apparently Mrs. Mason's suit had been one of a kind and handmade.
Mr. Mason's last words to Vernon were, "Just wait and see if my firm ever comes to your company for drills!"
Harriet winced as the door slammed shut. She caught Dobby's eye and he nodded firmly before disappearing. As she mindlessly tuned out her Uncle's angry rant, she couldn't help but worry for Dobby's mental health. How in the world was that going to keep me from going back to Hogwarts?
That was the moment that a small, brown owl chose to fly into the house through the chimney. That was also the moment that Harriet found herself recalling a conversation during which her parents had explained the concept of underage magic and the Trace.
And, as her uncle read out the letter informing her of her current suspension from Hogwarts and yet another impending hearing at the Ministry, that was when Harriet finally realized what Dobby's plan was all along.
Blimey, thats a smart elf.
Lily and the Marauders, Potter Manor- June 30, 1992
"Thats not possible," Lily repeated, sinking down on the couch and massaging her temples, frustrated. The Ministry official looked highly exasperated.
"Magic was used in that household," he repeated slowly, as if talking to a child (it made James want to punch him). "The only witch currently residing at that address is your daughter. A letter has been sent to her informing her of her current suspension from Hogwarts. She will attend another Ministry hearing in a few days to decide both her status as a student and your custody of her. What part of that was unclear?"
"The her using magic bit," Remus muttered. "She knows better."
The official shrugged, obviously at a loss. "I can't help you with that. Do you have any other questions?"
"Yes," Sirius acknowledged. "How will she be arriving at the Ministry?"
"A Ministry worker will be sent to pick her up. Now, I apologize, but I really must be going." Ignoring their protests, the workers departed from the house and left with a POP. Lily shook her head.
"Harriet wouldn't have used magic outside of Hogwarts. I am sure there is a perfectly logical explanation for this."
"What was it she said earlier? That there was a house-elf in her bedroom?" Remus questioned. Sirius frowned.
"Yes," he said, before adding drily, "and thats perfectly logical."
"Well," Lily sighed, "at least we'll never be bored, James."
Her husband snorted and said, jokingly, "You were the one who wanted kids. I still say we should have gotten the dog."
Harriet Potter, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey- June 31, 1992
Harriet glared at her Aunt through the cat-flap when she shoved food inside. Grumbling to herself, she took the offered soup (Or what was supposed to be soup. Harriet doubted it, considering her Aunt's cooking.).
Eyeing the lumps of meat warily, she brought the bowl to her lips and took a sip. Convinced that it wasn't going to kill her immediately, Harriet finished gulping down the rest of the broth. She then took the remaining meat chunks and tipped them into Hedwig's cage.
"Enjoy," she told her owl. "Its all we'll be getting for a while."
Within hours of the Masons having left, the her Uncle had called a company to install bars on her windows and a cat-flap on her door. They had taken the rest of her magical items and thrown them back under the stairs. This time she hadn't been able to salvage anything, either.
Harriet flopped down onto the bed and sighed. Out of sheer boredom, she began to look at the stains patterns on the ceiling. She had just come to the conclusion that one of them looked suspiciously like a baby duck when her bedroom door open.
Harriet jerked up, hair sticking out in every direction. Her Uncle stood at the doorway. He was adjusting a rather ugly tie and looking very smug. "We are going out."
"We are?" Harriet asked, skeptical. It would seem that her Uncle had gotten much more lenient in his punishments since she had left. Her Uncle laughed at he. Loudly.
"Not you, girl," he snapped. "Petunia, Dudley, and I. We've won the first place prize in the England's Best Lawn Competition."
"And you aren't bringing me with you?" Harriet scoffed. "That seems a bit unfair considering I'm the one who did all the work on the lawn."
Her Uncle fixed her with an annoyed glare. The vein in his head was throbbing and his face was so red that it looked as though his head was about to explode. "Listen, girl, you'll be staying here. We're locking you in. Understand?"
"Its not any different from what you were doing before," Harriet pointed out, "so of course I understand. Unlike your son, I actually have a-"
Her uncle slammed the door shut on her.
"-brain," she finished with another sigh. She looked at Hedwig and made a face. "I must be ridiculously lonely if I'm talking to Uncle Vernon."
Hedwig hooted in reply.
"Fair enough," Harriet sighed, "but at least you're smart enough to understand me," Harriet noted. Hedwig puffed herself up in pride and Harriet giggled. She opened her mouth to chide Hedwig for being so proud, but a crash in the kitchen stopped her. She frowned.
"Didn't the Dursleys already leave?"
Hedwig cocked her head. "Thats what I thought. Then who's down there?"
Hedwig hid her head in her wing and Harriet stuck her tongue out at her. "Some help you are!"
More noises on the stairs alerted Harriet that somebody was coming closer to her room. Lacking her wand, Harriet grabbed the first thing she thought of: the lamp from the small desk in the room. She lifted it up above her head and waited with baited breath as somebody opened the door.
Harriet had expected somebody rather devious and sinister looking. Instead, she got a slightly overweight, middle-aged man whose red hair was beginning to thin out-
Wait. Red hair...
"Mr. Weasley?" Harriet asked cautiously. Not every red head in the universe was a Weasley, of course, but this man had the perfect shade of Weasley Red and Harriet recognized Ron's nose in his sea of features.
"Yes," the man said excitedly, holding out his hand for her. Harriet placed the lamp back down on the desk and reached out to take it. "Arthur Weasley, Ron's father. You must be Harriet! Its a pleasure to meet you!"
"Its good to meet you, too, sir," Harriet said, politely. "If you don't mind my asking, what are you doing here? I don't mean to sound ungrateful to see you, or anything, but this is the second time tonight I've had somebody unexpectedly pop into my bedroom."
"If you don't mind, I think I'd like to hear a bit more about that," he told her, brows furrowed in a way that reminded Harriet of Percy's "serious face."
"However, to answer your first question, I am here to escort you to my home for the night, where you will remain under my supervision until your Ministry hearing tomorrow." He said this all in dry tone, informing her that this was simply the official wording.
"Your home, Mr. Weasley?"
"Yes, Miss Potter," he responded, teasing her for her formality. "The Ministry believes that due to your exhibition of underage magic earlier-"
"That wasn't me!" Harriet denied.
"No?" Mr. Weasley frowned. "Then I guess you really must tell me that story-sooner, rather than later, if you don't mind. But, no matter. The Ministry still feels that you must be placed under some sort of magical supervision. They chose me."
"But Ron said that you worked for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department? What does that have to do with me?" Harriet was very confused. Mr. Weasley beamed at her, obviously very excited about his work.
"I pulled a few strings. Talked to the right people. Thought it might ease your parents' minds." Harriet nodded, things making more sense. "Although, I was also hoping that I might have a chance to question you on some of the more obscure muggle objects that I've come into contact with. Maybe clear up any confusion-"
"Absolutely," Harriet said quickly. Anything to get out of the Dursley's house. "I would be happy to."
"Brilliant!" He told her. "We'll just need to get your things, then."
"They're downstairs, in the cupboard underneath the stairs."
"Everything?" questioned Mr. Weasley in a rather dubious tone. Harriet answered, "Yes, sir. Everything but Hedwig."
She picked up the cage which held the owl in question. Mr. Weasley's eyes narrowed as he took in the padlocked cage and Hedwig's agitated expression. His eyes flicked around the room, taking notice of the threadbare mattress, bars on the window, the food tray, and the cat-flap. His lips tightened, but, thankfully, he didn't say a word. Instead, he just ushered her quickly out the door.
It was with a grateful sigh that Harriet took her wand from him when he unlocked the door that lead to Harriet's things. He began to shrink down her drunk and various other items. Harriet decided to try and make conversation. It was Ron's dad, after all.
"Its lucky you got here when you did," she offered. "The Dursleys just left. Something about winning an award."
"Oh that wasn't luck," Mr. Weasley denied. "I fabricated that little story. Needed something to get them out of the house."
Harriet laughed. "Oh! I'd love to see their faces when the realize that the prize doesn't exist!"
Mr. Weasley smiled with her. "We're all set then. I just need to leave them a note. Something to tell you that you've gone-"
"They'll be thrilled."
"-that you're perfectly safe-
"That will just depress them."
"-and that if they wish to see you, all the need to do is ask."
"I really doubt they'll take you up on that."
"From what I've heard," Mr. Weasley admitted, "so do I. But its a formality." Harriet sighed in concession and managed to dig up a notepad and a pen. Mr. Weasley had the time of his life clicking the little ball-point pen on and off, apparently having only used quills, and, once he was done, Harriet just couldn't find the heart to take it from him, so she let him keep it.
The Dursleys wouldn't miss it, she decided. Then, taking in Mr. Weasley's thrilled expression, And they can go splinch themselves if they do.
"Are we going to apparate to your house?" Harriet was a bit hesitant. Apparation wasn't her favorite mode of transportation. Mr. Weasley nodded apologetically. Obviously he agreed with Harriet that it wasn't the greatest way to travel.
"Mind you," he told her as they walked outside, "Muggles have some very interesting ways of getting around. Very ingenious."
"What?" Harriet asked. "Like cars?"
Mr. Weasley nodded. "Exactly!" Harriet hadn't thought of it that way before. "If only the Ministry wasn't so anti-Muggle. So many improvements could be made using their ideas! You should see some of the things I've done so far-"
"But I thought modifying Muggle stuff was illegal?"
"I think you'll find," he told her, nervously tugging at his collar, "that there is a loophole in the bill. Making modifications are perfectly legal, as long as you aren't intending to use the object in question."
"Percy mentioned once that you were the one who drafted the bill," Harriet began cautiously. In the moonlight, she saw Mr. Weasley turn as red as his hair. She grinned. "Did you do that on purpose?"
"We really need to be going," Mr. Weasley said loudly as he changed the subject. That gave Harriet all the answer she needed. It also gave her all the trust she needed to take his offered arm and go off with him to the Burrow.
Harriet Potter, The Burrow- June 31, 1992
The Burrow, Harriet decided, was quite possibly Harriet's favorite place in the world-save her own home and, of course, Hogwarts. The house itself was large, but not in width. It was actually rather narrow, as thought it had started out as nothing more than a small hut. Other rooms seemed to have been tacked on, as though mere afterthoughts. The house towered above them, several stories high. It looked as though it were about to fall over, reminding Harriet of a magical version of the Leaning Tower of Pisa.
The interior was just as wacky as the outside. The furniture was eclectic and old, much of it worn down and faded. The rooms were filled with magical knick-knacks that Harriet had never seen before. Overall, the Burrow had a homey feel to it that fit well with Ron's descriptions of his family.
Ron's family.
If there was anything that Harriet liked more than the house itself it was the people in the house. The Weasleys had to be some of the nicest people she had ever met. Mr. Weasley had kept his word. The moment they arrived home, he had been off again, this time flooing to her house to inform her parents of her safe arrival.
Mrs. Weasley was just as she had remembered: red-haired and motherly. She had offered Harriet food right away and, Harriet almost felt ashamed to admit it, it was just as good (if not better) than her own mother's cooking.
Percy had been formal and respectful to her, but oddly cold. That was just his way, she supposed.
The twins were the exact opposite, welcoming her with open arms and making her instantly feel like one of the family. They treated pranks as though they were important as breathing. She couldn't go five minutes in their presence without laughing hysterically.
Ron's little sister Ginny, with whom she was sharing a room, seemed sweet, although it was difficult to tell since she would blush and run away whenever Harriet entered the room. It was flattering, but a tad disconcerting.
Not nearly as disconcerting, of course, as the other Ministry hearing hanging over her head. Mr. Weasley, having heard her tale about Dobby, had assured Harriet that everything would work out fine.
Considering how well her last Ministry hearing had gone, Harriet was a little bit less optimistic.
To cheer her up, Fred and George threw a small show using their left-over Fillibuster Fireworks. Harriet loved it, but, sadly, Mrs. Weasley wasn't as grateful. She chased them both around the house with her wooden spoon before ordering them to go de-gnome the garden. Harriet had felt bad, but the winks they both sent her behind their mother's back made her feel a bit better.
Harriet couldn't help but turn to Ron, incredulous. He laughed at her expression. "Yea," he assure her, "its always like this. Well, except for Ginny. Normally, she can't shut up. Its a bit weird."
Harriet blushed and mumbled something, incoherent. Mrs. Weasley took this moment to enter the living room.
"Its late," she tutted. "Harriet, you have a long day ahead of you, my dear. Its time you headed up to bed."
Harriet gave Ron a quiet goodnight and headed up to Ginny's bedroom. Ginny was already there, but Harriet didn't bother trying to strike up conversation with her. Instead, she changed inter her jim-jams, got under the covers, and turned off the light, and went to sleep hoping that the next day brought better things.
Harriet Potter, Courtroom 10, Ministry of Magic-July 1, 1992
"It wasn't me," Harriet said the moment she was on the stand. Fudge raised a dubious eyebrow and scoffed.
"Then who was it?"
"The house-elf," Harriet said matter-of-factly. Fudge decided to humor her.
"I see." He nodded sagely. "What exactly was this house-elf's name?"
"I..don't remember," Harriet muttered, thinking of Dobby's fear filled gazed and secretive nature.
"And what did he, or she, want, exactly?"
"I don't really know. I think he was trying to warn me."
"From what?"
Harriet shrugged and Fudge snorted again. Madam Bones looked highly put out at having her proceedings having been taken from her, but there was little she could do against the Minister at this point.
"I see," he sighed, giving her parents disappointed looks, as if he thought that they should be ashamed of their child's blatant lying. "Well, Miss. Potter, unless you can give us a plausible explanation-"
"Minister Fudge," interrupted Madam Bones, "Miss Potter may not be being entirely truthful with us, she is not lying about not being the one to cast a levitation charm."
Fudge gaped at her, so she continued. "A quick check of the last spell used on Miss Potter's wand has confirmed that she was not the one to cast a levitation charm."
"That- That can't-"
"Furthermore," Madam Bones continued, "an investigation has confirmed that Mr. and Mrs. Potter are perfectly suitable parents, so there is no need for Miss Potter to return to the Dursleys."
"She can't-" Fudge wailed. Madam Bones fixed him with an annoyed look.
"Minister Fudge, unless you have something useful to say, than I suggest you hush down. This hearing is now over."
Harriet was over to her parents in a flash. This hearing had gone much better (and much faster) than the last hearing she had attended. Her father picked her up, spinning her around rapidly and planting kisses in her hair. She was then passed over to her mother, who just held her tight. Sirius and Remus each gave her welcoming hugs as well.
Harriet was eventually set down. "Hello," she said, not really sure what else to say.
"Hello, Prongslette," Sirius retorted, ruffling her hair. She half-heartedly scowled at him.
"Can we leave?" she asked hopefully.
"Just need to fill out some paperwork, love," her mother admitted. Harriet couldn't help but make a face. "But why doesn't your father go ahead and show you where he and the other aurors work while we wait?"
Her father looked at her eagerly and she couldn't say no. They began to walk together down the corridor and towards the lift. Neither of them said anything and that was what allowed them to hear the hushed whispers coming from down the hall.
Harriet and her father exchanged glances.
"Fudge?" he mouthed. Harriet nodded and identified the second voice.
"Malfoy?" she mouthed back. He raised an eyebrow and gestured for her to act natural. Straightening, they walked in the direction of the voices.
"I simply worry, Fudge," came Malfoy Sr.'s silky drawl, "about the safety of the students. Of my son."
"Of course," Fudge stammered. They came into view and Harriet watched as Malfoy pressed something-money-into Fudge's hands.
"Hello," her father said, casually. "Are we interrupting something."
Fudge paled, but Malfoy looked unconcerned. "Of course not, Mr. Potter. Fudge was just sharing with me the wonderful news about your daughter. I am glad to hear that your family is back together. I'm sure my cousin is pleased."
"Cousin-in-law," her father corrected idly. "And yes. He is. We all are. We appreciate your congratulations."
"You best be careful, though," he warned. "From what I hear, your daughter seems to be keen to keep up your tradition of making trouble."
"I'll keep that in mind," he said, cooly. Malfoy smirked and inclined his head, walking away. Fudge looked at the Potters nervously, then teetered after Malfoy.
Both Harriet and her father stood there for a minute, each trying to figure out what had just happened. Finally her father sighed and gave her a rueful smile.
"Listen, Harriet, about what we just did? Sneaking up on Malfoy and Fudge?" Harriet nodded. "Don't tell your mother."
Sorry that this took so long! I don't really have an excuse...
Still, I appreciate the support!
I hope you enjoy and reviews are good for you!
tinyrose65