"Marge'll be here for a week," Uncle Vernon snarled, oblivious to Harry's growing horror. "And while we're on the subject," the man continued, jabbing at fat finger at Harry threateningly, "We need to get a few things straight before I go and collect her".
Dudley sniggered, Harry glanced over to see the obese boy had finally turned his attention away from the television. Obviously he preferred watching Harry get bullied to watching his precious TV, strange considering he normally beat up anyone who targeted 'his' chewtoy back at primary school.
"Firstly. You'll keep a civil tongue in your head when you're talking to Marge," Vernon growled.
"As long as she does when she's talking to me," Harry countered bitterly. He hated Marge with a passion, even more than he hated Malfoy or Snape. He'd force himself to be polite only if she did the same, he wasn't going to count on it though. Harry was not going to behave for that vile bitch, and he was not going to play along with whatever story or rules his Uncle cooked up to suit her.
"Secondly," Vernon continued, acting like he hadn't heard Harry's reply. "As Marge doesn't know about your abnormality, I don't want any – any – funny stuff while she's here. You behave yourself, got me?"
"If she sets her dog on me again then I'll set her on fire," Harry dead-panned, completely serious as he stared at his Uncle. "And when the Aurors show up to see why I'm casting magic, I'll show them my cupboard instead. Show them what's really abnormal around here".
Uncle Vernon looked like he wanted to lunge across the room and kill throttle Harry, only the way the raven-haired wizard's had lifted up his hoodie to show the wand tucked in the waistband on his jeans stopping the overweight man.
"And thirdly," Vernon forced out, a vein in the man's forehead pulsing as his eyes narrowed to slits in his purple face. "We've told Marge you attend St. Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys".
Harry just stared at his Uncle for a moment before shaking his head. "Nope," he refused bluntly, turning on his heel and strolling out of the room.
"GET BACK IN HERE!"
Drawing his wand as he spun back to his charging Uncle, Harry watched as the man whimpered and quickly stumbled back. "I do not attend St. Whatsits. I attend Hogwarts, and I don't care if that doesn't suit your little story, Uncle, but that's how it's gonna be," he growled, whatever good manner he had thrown out the window the moment his 'Aunt' got involved. "Shut up," he snarled as Vernon opened his mouth to argue, the man's face a dark red in anger. "I attend Hogwarts, a private school located up in the Scottish highlands. The same school my parents went to before they were murdered, end of story".
"Is there a problem with that?" Harry asked calmly, smiling innocently as he twirled his wand around in his fingers, both Vernon's and Dudley's eyes locked on it as it sparked threateningly. "I didn't think-" he was cut off as something shattered, making him whip around to stare at the now broken kitchen window.
"Ho- How dare you!" Vernon began.
"It wasn't me," Harry argued, glaring in his Uncle's direction as he edged towards the broken window cautiously.
He'd felt something when the window broke. It felt like magic, but different, and he knew for certain that it hadn't come from him.
"Don't feed me that load of crock!" Vernon yelled angrily.
"Do you want me to curse you?" Harry demanded, turning his wand on the trembling man and making him shrink back, "I could test which fire spell I know will burn you the slowest". When the man just stared at the glowing tip of Harry's wand in fear, the dark-haired boy turned back to the windows and hesitantly moved over to the door, slowly reaching out to twist the door handle and push it open.
"WHAT THE RUDDY HELL IS THAT?"
"Ow," Harry drawled, raising his free hand to rub at his ears as he followed the progress of the tiny animal into the kitchen. "And that, my oh so intelligent Uncle, is a fox".
Sarcasm aside, Harry didn't know what else he could call the creature before him. It was a fox, plain and simple. Well, maybe not simple, it was too beautiful to be simple. It's fur was an elegant burnt red-amber colour, with black 'socks' on it and a cap on its tail of the same colour. The fox couldn't be that old either, it looked like it was only out of teenager-dom, sleek yet a little ungainly.
Watching as the fox jumped onto a chair and then up onto the kitchen table to help himself to the toast Harry had abandoned ages ago, he couldn't help but smirk as Vernon looked at the animal with the same look of disgust and caution that he and his wife constantly used on Harry. "Get that- that thing out of my house," the large man squeaked fearfully.
"Why?" Harry asked bluntly, "You do it. It's not magical-" he paused as both Dursleys flinched at the word "-and it's barely the size of your empty head".
He wasn't being cruel was he? It was only the Dursleys that he was acting this way to, when Mrs Figg from down the street had popped by to ask to borrow some hedge clippers (to which Petunia had refused) Harry had been perfectly well-mannered with her. As far as he was concerned, he was allowed to torment his relatives after all the shit they put him through, and it wasn't even like he was using magic on them – instead only acting like the rebellious teenager that he now was.
As Uncle Vernon gathered up the courage and moved towards the fox, pudgy hands extended as far away from his body as he could manage, Harry was proven completely wrong. Lips curling back to reveal sharp teeth, the now fire-eyed fox let out an angry snarl as its tail raised and then split into three separate tails. His Uncle letting out a pig-like squeal as he threw himself backwards, Harry could only watch as the now demonic-looking visage of the fox let out an angry 'yip' that lifted Vernon up into the air, hurling him through the wall and into the living room. The black glow that surrounded the fox's writhing tails faded as they reformed into a singular limb, the fox quickly picking up remains of Harry's toast before jumping off the table and darting towards the horrified wizard, where it promptly scaled his leg and wormed its way into the large pocket of his hoodie – as if it hadn't just kicked the shit out of his Uncle.
Come the 1st of September, Harry was on the Hogwarts Express waiting for his friends, staring silently at the utterly normal cardboard box sitting on the seat opposite him.
After what felt like years of waiting, he finally heard Hermione's voice calling from outside his compartment, only then looking away from the box to see his best female friend beaming at him as she struggled with something in her arms. When the door was finally opened as she entered, leading a scowling Ron in, Harry's face dropped upon seeing the furry beast in her arms.
"See?" Ron demanded rudely as he stomped into the compartment, "Even Harry hates that beast".
"Harry!" Hermione scolded instantly, "I don't know what lies Ronald has been telling you, but Crookshanks has been nothing but a darling. Ron just can't get past his prejudice towards cats".
"That's a cat?" Harry blurted as Hermione sat beside him, leaving Ron to levitate both their trunks onto the luggage rack above them.
"Yes," Hermione growled warningly, Harry's stomach sinking even further as 'Crookshanks' pulled his furry head away from Hermione's chest and blinked at him lazily. "And he's been a perfectly well-behaved one," she added with a narrow-eyed glare to both boys, "I've been putting up with Ronald's lies since he showed up at the Leaky Cauldron, I will not let you slander Crookshanks either".
"I wasn't," Harry assured her quickly, casting a nervous glance at the still silent box. "I just didn't know what it was, I only saw red fur".
He'd thought that Hermione had also been 'kidnapped' by something like Harry's unwanted companion, the multi-tailed fox curled up and hopefully sleeping in a mess of Harry's shirts within the box.
"Good," Hermione said simply, nuzzling Crookshanks happily as she set the loudly purring cat down in her lap. "Mum and Dad bought him for me in Diagon Alley, he's part kneazle, so he's a very smart kitty isn't he?" she cooed. "Apparently he'd been there for a while, I can't imagine why, he's so gorgeous isn't he Harry?"
If Harry had been stupid (or Ron) he'd have been honest with Hermione and told her that her cat looked like he'd ran into a brick wall and full speed. Thankfully for him however, Harry wasn't, and thus he knew better than to say anything other than "Yeah he is, he looks really fluffy," to Hermione, who beamed at him in response and scratched Crookshanks' chin, cooing all the while like a proud mother.
"You can pet him if you want," Hermione offered, "I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you were gentle about it".
"Uh, nah, I think I'll wait until we get to Hogwarts," Harry denied quickly, eyes flicking to the box again. "If Hedwig learns I've been touching other animals without her permission she'll kill me," he explained hastily to a suspicious Hermione.
"Indeed," the girl agreed slowly, eyes narrowed at him, "She flew ahead to Hogwarts by the way, she didn't seem to enjoy the idea of remaining in her cage for the entire trip".
"Of course not, Hedwig hates that cage," Harry confirmed, trying to keep his voice calm and his face casual. "I only sent her to yours because I hadn't heard from Ron all summer and my Aunt Marge was coming over. She's allergic to birds," he lied as he and Hermione both looked over at Ron who'd completely missed Harry's loud hint.
"That's unfortunate," Hermione agreed with a sniff, making Harry wince as he realised that he hadn't managed to fool his friend. "It's polite to ask before helping yourself to other's things by the way Ronald".
Glancing over at Ron curiously, Harry didn't have time to stop himself as his wand appeared in his hands and a stinging hex struck the red-haired boy in the face. "Don't touch that box," he ordered as he quickly stood and shoved Ron away from it, pushing the disturbed lid back down after a peek at the sleeping fox inside it.
"What the bloody hell mate?" Ron demanded angrily, a hand clamped over the reddening skin on his face.
"Just- Just don't touch the box," Harry instructed, refusing to feel guilt over the stinging hex when the last person who'd disturbed the fox had ended up on fire. (On the plus side, Aunt Marge would never be returning to #4 Privet Drive). "Okay?" he stressed, looking between his friends, "Don't, touch, the box".
"Harry," Hermione began slowly, suspicion clear on her face, "What's in the box".
"No idea, it wasn't in any of my school books" Harry confessed, slowly returning to his seat once he was sure the fox wasn't stirring, "That's why it's here. I wanted to bring it for Hagrid to look at".
"But what's in it?" Hermione repeated, a confused frown on her face.
"Yeah! Come on mate, I just wanted a look," Ron insisted, yelping and jumping back as Harry hexed him the moment he started to reach for the box.
"And I said 'no'," Harry snapped, fixing Ron with the most serious look he could manage. "Trust me, neither of you want to know".
"Will you tell us after Hagrid's looked at it?" Hermione questioned slowly, "And it's not dangerous, is it?"
"Extremely," Harry admitted bluntly, Ron paling as he looked between his hand and the box nervously.
"But what does it look like?" Hermione asked quickly, "It's obviously some sort of magical creature or you wouldn't want Hagrid to look at it right?"
"It's… it's a fox," Harry mumbled hesitantly.
"A fox? You tit!" Ron exclaimed, "I almost soiled my robes!"
"Did you just call me a tit?" Harry blurted in confusion.
"It's a fox!" Ron continued, "What's it gonna do? Nibble my ankles? We get tonnes of them around the Burrow," the red-haired boy dismissed as he basically dove at the box and tore the lid open. "See!" he said smugly as the fox jumped out, "It's not even an adult," Ron snorted, gently lifting it up and inspecting it, "He's practically a baby".
The 'baby' didn't seem to agree however, as it's amber eyes once again were engulfed in fire, and it's tails split as a dark snarl echoed through the compartment.
Time seemed to slow as Ron blinked at the fox in shock, a high-pitched scream echoing through the compartment as he hurled it away from him and back into the box it had come from… which burst into flames, since Harry's life wasn't complete until the ghost-like demon-fox haunting him learnt it could set itself on fire and incinerate a cardboard box in seconds.
The moment Ron's head hit the ground, his eyes rolling up into the back of his head, the fox was normal again, its tails blending into one as it carefully licked down the fur that Ron had displaced.
"Wow," Hermione exhaled slowly, Harry twitching as the fox froze and glanced up at her.
As the fox jumped across the seats to sniff at Crookshanks, Harry could only sigh as it deemed the cat worthy of an ear-lick before climbing up onto Harry's shoulders where it settled down with a happy rumble.
"You have no idea".
AMBER
Inspired by Anubis of the Highway Thieves' It Followed Me Home challenge.
The Undercover Operative cannot claim to own Harry Potter.