Recommended songs: Mostly by Vian Izak and Juniper Vale
In Heaven by Japanese Breakfast
AN: I spend too much time on Fanfiction lately. I don't mean the fairly obvious reason of the quarantine but the fact that my job (event related, and yes I got fired because of the quarantine) meant that I couldn't take much with me to entertain myself during breaks and lunch. Anyway, some of the things that happen in this or other fics by me have been inspired or outright taken from other authors. I'll try to let everyone know where I got things but be aware that I may not remember what story I got things from. If you recognize something, message me with what you recognize and where you recognize it from and I'll edit my story to let others know. If I copied your idea or scene and didn't credit you; message me and let me know if you'd like me to change it or just credit you.
If you asked Minerva Anne McGonagall what she did for a living ( and you were either a muggle or lived under a rock in the Bering Sea), she would tell you she was a zookeeper and animal trainer. Occasionally, if, like today Albus Dumbledore asked her to see him in his office; she would say she was a glorified personal assistant and slave. Albus knew how much work she had preparing the last of her lesson plans for the next year and overseeing the yearly summer repairs.
Minerva breezed into his office and sat down without being asked. If he was going to interrupt her work then she'd at least rest comfortably while he yammered. It was only when she looked up at him that she realized something must be wrong. Her old friend's face was so worried that he looked all of his 109 years. The magical roll that held the names of all wizarding students was spread out before him. A still steaming glass sat next to it and the smell told Minerva he'd drank Firewhiskey. Like most of his friends, she knew Albus hated the strong drink and would only drink it if he felt he needed fortification.
"What in the world is wrong Albus? You're drinking Firewhiskey!" The elderly man rubbed at his long beard and sighed heavily.
"I need you to check up on Harry Potter." His voice was heavy and hesitant.
"Harry Potter? He's with his relatives. Where you placed him, remember?" Minerva glanced down at the roll on the desk. "By the Gods, you don't think he's a squib, do you?"
"No, that is quite impossible. I could feel his power when we left him at his aunt's and you heard James, how he used to tell us of all his accidental magic. No, I just fear they may have left the country, perhaps." The last bit sounded more like a placating thought for himself than for her.
"I'll go check on him, Albus. Just remember what I told you when we left him; those muggles are the worst sort." Minerva didn't wait for a dismissal. She practically ran for her quarters. Charlus Potter had been her classmate and friend, James and Lily her beloved students. That anything could be wrong with their son was a stain on her cherished relationships with the boy's family. If there was something wrong, she would fix it.
Since she had been there before, the trip to Number Four Privet Drive was blessedly short. The only hiccup in her journey was the fact that her destination was gone. On one side, number one through three sat, all identical and orderly. On her right side, number five and six sat, equally identical and orderly. Before her, however, sat an empty lot. Grass and dirt and a few candy wrappers were all that was left of Number Four Privet Drive. Well, that and the sprayed red paint on the sidewalk where she stood. Minerva stepped back onto the road to see the full phrase. Her mouth dropped open and her voice broke as she tried to speak. "Murderers."
Minerva dropped to her knees and felt the overwhelming urge to vomit. She didn't know how long she kneeled there before a hand on her shoulder made her flinch, tearing her watery eyes from the asphalt.
"Were you looking for the Dursleys?" The speaker was a middle aged man, pudgy, balding, and dressed like an accountant (not that Minerva knew what an accountant was).
"Their nephew, Harry…" Minerva's voice died out before she could finish.
"Poor kid. Was Four or so when a neighbor found out what they were doing to him. Poor old lady Figg. She went to confront them about it instead of calling the police. From what the newspaper said, that whale Dursley killed her and beat the kid half to death."
"What happened to him? Where is he?" The man scratched the back of his head and glared into the empty plot.
"Not sure. The Dursleys were arrested. The woman's still in prison from what we hear. A few years ago, the afternoon news said she was appealing to be moved to a new place. Apparently she didn't like how other prisoners were treating her. All us neighbors were disgusted, of course. The man was killed in prison soon after his arrest. Good riddance, I say."
"But Harry…" Minerva couldn't begin to form a coherent thought.
"He was taken to hospital. He and the Dursley boy probably ended up in care. Were you a friend of theirs?" The disgust in his tone at the sudden thought was evident.
"Of Harry's parents. A long time ago." The man stood next to her for a few minutes, as if expecting to hear more about her connection to the biggest scandal to ever hit Little Whinging. He left when it became obvious that she wasn't saying anything.
Thoughts and emotions swirled around in her and she couldn't quite hold onto anything concrete, each thought slipping before she could finish forming it. Dear Merlin, where was Harry James Potter?
Minerva's first stop after Privet Drive was the Little Whinging library. She asked to see their newspaper records. Perhaps she should have alerted Dumbledore first but her worry for the soon to be eleven year old and anger at Albus and herself stopped her. It took her a quick point-me spell to find all the records mentioning Figg, Dursley, and Privet Drive in one article.
Murder in Little Whinging!
Late last evening, police were called to the residence of one Vernon and Petunia Dursley, of Privet Drive. A call had been made by a neighbor who suspected an altercation had occured between the couple and another nearby neighbor.
Mr. Andrews of Number nine Privet drive, the helpful caller, said, "I saw , the elderly neighbor from down the street, knock on the Dursley's door and say something that made Petunia snap at her before letting her in. babysits the Dursley's little nephew so I thought it might be a complaint about him. Petunia always complains about his terrible behaviour at bridge you know. Minutes later, I heard a scream from their side of the street and looked out just in time to see a hand hit the front window. I called the police immediately. I never thought it would turn out this way. I just thought the women were in a verbal fight."
When police pulled up just twenty minutes later, they discovered a sight so horrifying and terrible that those who've been in the house are all being asked to attend meetings with councilors. Vernon Dursley, drill sales representative for a local factory, was brutally beating his four year old nephew ( name has been withheld due to his age) while his wife attempted to dismember Mrs. Figg's body.
According to a statement released by the Little Whinging constabulary this morning, Mrs. Figg had seen bruises on the Dursley's orphaned nephew and gone to confront the couple. Sometime during the argument, things became violent and Petunia Dursley hit with enough force to bash her skull in and kill her.
The twisted couple had decided to dismember and dump the elderly woman's body sometime later that night. Vernon Dursley then proceeded to beat his nephew within an inch of his life and would have killed him had the police not arrived so soon.
The vile pair were taken into custody and the young boy was sent to St. Mary's Intensive Care Ward. It is unsure if he will make a full recovery as he appears to have been physically abused and starved since becoming the Dursley's ward at age one.
There was more to the article but Minerva stopped reading. Tears slid down her cheeks and she struggled to control her breathing. hadn't been a close friend but she had known the woman. How the aged squib had come to live on the same street as Harry, she didn't know though she was sure Albus was involved.
Poor Harry! What hell on earth had they sentenced him to when they left him on the doorstep that night. Anger at Albus boiled in her stomach, adding nothing comforting to the disgust and anger at herself for having let him convince her. And those muggles! Poor Lily, her own sister having been the little boy's abuser!
Minerva took note of the hospital Harry had been sent to and conjured a copy of the newspaper and tucked it into her sleeve. She was going to find that boy if it was the last thing she did!
A helpful librarian pointing out the nearby hospital made sure Minerva was in the right place not even ten minutes later. She lied her way into the patient records for the correct year by confounding two separate clerks and a receptionist. Sadly, it took her many tries before she was able to pick the right set of words to use the point-me spell. Apparently, 's saw a large amount of patients named Potter or violence victims under the age of ten.
Harry's thick file was heartbreaking, the amount of trauma his little body had arrived with made vile rise to her throat. She only saw one picture before throwing the file away from her and dry heaving into a hastily conjured bucket. The aged professor leaned against the cold metal of the file shelves and closed her eyes.
Doctors had apparently expected Harry to be brain damaged if he even woke up. His file didn't say where she might find him. It only said the courts had sealed the case and would be transferring his guardianship to an unspecified person. How Minerva expected to find the grandson of her childhood friend, she didn't know. It was time she spoke to Albus. And he would listen to her and aid her or she would tear him from crown to toes.
AN: the idea for Mrs. Figg to have been murdered by the Dursleys is inspired by Fixing Past Mistakes by DebsTheSlytherinSnapefan here on Fanfiction. Having someone have to go look at paperwork and being horrified by the pictures is also in her story. Of course, the plot of our stories is different so who saw what and other details is different but I loved those first scenes in her story and it inspired me. I read her story and enjoyed it immensely. As a fellow Slytherin, Hi! I'm not a big Snape fan but her story is really good. I haven't checked out any of her other stories (that I can remember) but this one is one I recommend.
Recommended reading: Fixing Past Mistakes by DebsTheSlytherinSnapefan