12th of August - Number 4 Privet Drive
Dear Mr. Potter,
I am afraid our fears have been realised and that news of your living situation has leaked to the press. I endeavoured to be as discreet as possible with my inquiries, but it seems one of the contacts I recently made has broken his word to keep the matter confidential. I can only apologise for my part in it, but the good news is that now that the matter has been made public, the Minister of Magic is furious that no progress has been made. I am confident that he will take decisive action before this day is done. Be prepared to leave immediately. Narcissa will send you a copy of today's Daily Prophet with your owl. Be sure to read it. I believe it may prove strategic to play along with the narrative Miss Skeeter has gone with.
Yours Sincerely,
Lucius Malfoy.
Harry's hands shook as he read Mr. Malfoy's letter again. This wasn't what he'd agreed to! He'd expressed a wish for the process to be hurried up, more than once, but he didn't think someone would take his sordid life's story to the wizarding press for everyone to see! After mulling over his anger at being exposed to such an extent, Harry sighed, folding the letter away; what was done was done, and at least he was finally getting out of here.
Before he could act on Malfoy's recommendation and get his things ready, a sudden tap against his window interrupted his thoughts. At first, Harry thought it was Hedwig carrying the newspaper, but when he looked out, he saw a flock of owls outside more numerous than those sent to deliver his Hogwarts letter a few weeks ago. Just as Harry turned to open the window and see what all the fuss was about, a sudden sound of shattering glass followed by a shriek reverberated into his room from the floor below. When the shouting continued, the voice of Aunt Petunia now joined by Uncle Vernon's, Harry decided to go and have a look.
"Sorry, you'll have to wait for a bit," he told the owls from beyond the glass, who seemed to be growing increasingly more numerous and more agitated by the minute. Some of them even started fighting each other to get further ahead in the line to his bedroom window.
When he entered the living room, Harry was not surprised to see his aunt and Uncle standing in the middle of the room screaming their heads off. That had been Dudley's reaction to him since returning from Diagon Alley. "What's the matter?" he asked, but they didn't hear him.
Taking a closer look, Harry was surprised to see a stranger in the fireplace, or rather, the back of him. The folds of his yellow robes seemed to have jammed up the chimney revealing a pair of colourful white underpants with red hearts scattered over them. A wooden shaft vaguely similar to his wand had fallen down into the fireplace, giving Harry the distinct impression the hearty underpants belonged to a wizard.
"Excuse me… but what are you doing up there?" asked Harry.
"Over here young chap!" replied a muffled voice seemingly coming from the side. Only now Harry noticed that his aunt and uncle were pointing and screaming at the television set, not the fireplace. Coming over to take a closer look, Harry was horrified to see a head sitting in the television tube, its glass having shattered, and what was worse, it was still alive!
"Good Lord, is that you Mr. Potter?!" asked the head, seemingly unconcerned by its deadly predicament. "Xenophilius Lovegood of the Quibbler! I would shake hands, but I seem to have misplaced them. Could you pick up my wand by any chance? "
Harry blinked, pinched himself to be certain that what he was seeing was real, and retrieved the then wand from the fireplace. "Er… how do you want me to hand it to you exactly?"
The head laughed, "hand it to me, Ha! Bravo!"
"Vernon… I think I am going to faint," exclaimed Aunt Petunia, and sure enough, her eyes rolled back quickly followed by the rest of her body.
"I have you, my pumpkin!" shouted Uncle Vernon, rushing forwards to catch her, but great moustachioed misjudged a fold of the carpet and slipped straight into the pile of the the TV's broken glass with a howl of pain. Fortunately for Aunt Petunia, his falling body saved her from a rather nasty fall as she fainted right on top of him, but this only made Vernon's own predicament even worse.
"You would think muggles would take a splinching better, considering all they do is watch talking heads on the telly all day! Just place the wand in my mouth, thank you very much!"
Harry did as he was told and watched on as the head wobbled a rough sequence of movements and mumbled an incomprehensible incantation. With a flash of light, the head was gone, and the torso up the chimney and its colourful underpants came crashing through the fireplace revealing a distinctly dandy looking man dressed in an egg yolk robe.
"Are you alright?" asked Harry, not accustomed to seeing a beheaded man get better.
Instead of answering, Xenophilius held a hand to his throat and seemed to choke on something, but before Harry could try to help him, the man managed to give his wand a wave (if only barely) and pulled out a rolled up white news cap from his mouth.
"I am sorry you had to see that. I am afraid my head re-materialized over my hat. Good thing my experimental anti-Splinching potion worked, or we wouldn't be having much of a conversation! Those are some rather nasty wards you have around the place if I may say so! I haven't encountered blood magic as advanced as this since Pandora studied the incomplete charm on the McKinnon child! What has you so worried? Nargles wouldn't come near such a dreary place!"
Harry blinked, not understanding a word. "What are…"
"I DEMAND THAT YOU LEAVE AT ONCE!" bellowed Vernon, massaging his punctured posterior, having taken Petunia's unconscious body to rest on the couch.
"That looks rather unpleasant," observed Xenophilius and cast a spell on Uncle Vernon's bottom which seemed to heal both his skin and trousers at the same time. The shock of being made subject to a spell caused him such a fright, that Vernon tripped over and fell once again.
"Awfully clumsy these muggles of yours. Makes one wonder if they are part of the secret agreement between the Ministry and the Fairies to mass deploy changelings to Muggle Britian. As to why I am here, I would think that obvious, I am here to take your statement!"
"My statement?" repeated Harry feeling more than a little out of his depth.
"Your statement, exclusive to the Quibbler Magazine right in time for our new edition, before half the ministry turns up and spirits you away to Hollows know where. The Prophet's been selling like chocolate frogs today! I apparated the moment I heard straight into the wards! I want all the juicy details, who's involved in the conspiracy? How long has the Ministry been experimenting with illegal Blood Magics? Were the unpleasant muggle relatives chosen to test the effect of the beneficiary's intent on the charm? Quite ingenious if I may say so!"
A flash of flame heralded the entrance of another magical, this time a young woman dressed in a red robe and pointed hat holding an old camera. "Bless my soul! Harry Potter? Prunella Dirt, with The Witch Weekly Magazine, you have no idea how many favours I had to call in with my contacts at the ministry to let me through the new Floo connection before the Aurors came through. Do you have any comment… oh, Lovegood, I should have known."
"He's mine, Dirt! The Prophet may have broken this story, but Quibbler was the first on the scene! The Weekly has no right to be here!" exclaimed Xenophilius until an unnaturally loud crack from his neck gave him pause, his head apparently still adjusting to being back on top of things.
The witch didn't seem at all impressed by his threat and drew her wand, "If you think our magazine will let a story like this go to your lunatic rag, you are sorely mistaken!"
Harry raised a hand. "Excuse me," he started to say, but his voice was drowned out as Vernon stormed forward, having gotten up from the floor again, his face purple with rage.
"GET OUT THE LOT OF YOU! YOU ARE BREAKING AND ENTERING!"
As soon as he got near the fireplace, he was pushed off his feet by a flash of flame straight towards the couch and the still resting Petunia. She woke up into a screaming frenzy as he fell on top of her, a cry he soon joined as the couch flipped over and sent them both down to the floor. Harry winced at the sight, pondering if he should feel a little bit sorry for them.
Three robed figures armed with wands appeared by the fireplace covering each direction.
"CHECK THE PERIMETER!" shouted one of them, pointing his wand at the living room.
Harry stepped forwards, but before he could say anything, one of the wizards noticed Prunella and aimed his wand at her.
"Unknown wizards in the vicinity of the target!"
"They're armed!" reported the other as the smoke cleared.
Harry took a quick step back, not liking the sound of the recent arrivals.
"Oh… hello there Aurors, we're just reporters, Prunella Dirt with the…" said Prunella, lowering her wand, but a bit too quickly for the Aurors liking.
Harry barely had time to shout, "Wait!" before the wizard closest to her reacted, assuming she was about to attack. The Auror began to cast a spell, but an invisible force slammed into him, sending him flying through the living room window with a loud SMASH.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY WINDOW?" shouted Vernon, climbing over the couch.
"Trainee Tonks! Go get some help, I will cover you!" ordered the other Auror as he turned his wand at Prunella, but before he could act, he too was hurled skyward by the invisible force, bursting straight through the roof and leaving a gaping hole behind him.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY ROOF?!" Vernon shouted again, but then jumped back behind the couch as roof tiles started falling down the hole.
"Auror Office! We're under attack!" shouted a young pink haired witch into the fireplace.
Before Harry could even begin to process what was happening, Dudley stumbled into the room, headphones still blaring loud with punk music. "What's going on?"
Dudley took one look at the robed wizards, before his eyes widened in terror. "AHHH!" he screamed, bolting back up the stairs, nearly knocking Harry over in his rush to escape.
Harry could only watch on in confusion as dozens of people seemed to appear out of thin air, some in a flash of fire in the living room, others outside the windows. An invisible Force seemed to react to their arrival, sweeping across Number 4 Privet Drive from house to garden, throwing out anyone who tried to cast any bit of magic it considered dangerous.
Just when Harry thought things couldn't get worse, a loud crash echoed from upstairs. Dudley came flying down the stairs, eyes wide with terror as owls swarmed after him. Harry barely had time to blink before the birds followed, one particularly large owl clipping the edge of a Dursley family photo, knocking it clean off the wall. The frame shattered, and picture after picture followed, clattering to the floor under the weight of the onslaught.
"MY PICTURES!" shrieked Aunt Petunia, her voice nearly drowned out by the hooting owls and the shouts of panicked wizards. She lunged towards the stairway in a desperate attempt to rescue what was left of the falling frames, but the birds swooped down with a mercilessness worthy of the Hitchcock movie, forcing her to duck behind the remains of a portrait for cover.
The owls, undeterred, began dive-bombing Harry and the Dursleys, pelting them with letter after letter. Harry noticed that the ones addressed to him were mostly nice-looking clean envelopes, while the ones littering the Dursleys' feet were coloured in an angry shade of red.
The reporters ducked under the dining room table to evade the chaotic barrage of letters and the strange force at work in the house. Prunella occasionally popped out of cover to snap a photo, still desperate for her scoop, while Xeno laughed merrily at the scene. "Must be Wrackspurts, hundreds of them!"
"Shut it, Xeno!" Prunella hissed, then her eyes widened at the red envelopes piling up by the Dursleys. "You'd better open those, or things are about to get nasty."
"Stay calm everyone!" shouted one of the Aurors who had been booted out of the house. His robes seemed ragged, and his bearing a bit wobbly, but he managed to raise his wand at the mass of owls ready to cast another spell. "We Aurors will soon have this under control!"
But just as he was about to cast the spell, a tall, robed man with a scrubby beard tackled him down to the floor. "No magic you fool! These owls are under a binding postal contract!"
"And who the blazes are you? This is Law Enforcement business!" shouted the Auror, pushing the newly arrived wizard off his body to get his wand back.
"Amos Diggory, Magical Creatures Department! Here to contain the owl rush!"
"Well too bad! We Aurors are in charge of this case!"
"Not if it involves magical creatures, you're not!"
Their shouting escalated as they shoved each other. Meanwhile, the unopened red envelopes inflated into floating mouths, letting loose deafening screams that shook the house like a quake. Harry winced, unable to distinguish any coherent words over the cacophony. Some of the letters skipped the shouting altogether, diving instead at Petunia. They savagely nipped at her dress, shredding it into rags, leaving his aunt scrambling for cover, her dignity in tatters.
The coffee table suddenly sprang to life, floating in front of Aunt Petunia like a shield, providing her with some protection from the relentless barrage of letters. Its legs spun rapidly, shredding the attacking howlers. Meanwhile, the toaster unhooked itself and started floating around shooting down the remaining letters with slice after slice of toast in rapid fire.
"WHAT DID YOU DO?! Roared Vernon, grabbing Harry by his shirt in a panic.
"I have no idea!" insisted Harry, as the toaster turned its attention to Vernon, firing steaming toast at his still-sore bottom. Vernon quickly let go of Harry to take cover behind the couch.
More Ministry officials arrived by the minute, their shouts blending with the chaotic squabble over authority. But the animated furniture had other plans, turning its fury on the newcomers. The coffee table flew off, its legs twisting into sharp points, hurling itself at the Ministry wizards as they scrambled to get away. It crashed into the fireplace, bursting into flames.
"VERNON, HELP!" Petunia shrieked, left exposed by her torn dress. Vernon exploited the toaster's new fondness for wizards to rush to his wife's side, grabbing the tablecloth off the dining room table attempting to offer her modesty some cover. But in his haste, the cloth soon tangled under his feet, sending both man and tablecloth tumbling to the floor.
The reporters, previously spared by whatever had befallen the house so far, seemed to invite its ire as the kitchen chairs whipped upside down and shot across the room. The table was soon flipped over by the onslaught, exposing the reporters to a barrage of angry cutlery.
"What is Merlin's name?" Prunella gasped as a fork burrowed itself into her camera lens.
Xenophilius frowned as a knife took off his cap, "It seems the wards are escalating their targeting parameters. I think we should leave."
"Not on your life!" Prunella shot back. "This will be the story of the decade!"
But this was the least of their worries as the TV, still missing its glass, started to spark dangerously until it coalesced into lightning bolts and started to zap them. Prunella jumped over the fallen table for new cover while Xenophilius took this as his cue to leave the house. Meanwhile, the Freezer's door swung open, releasing an icy cloud that froze a ragged auror as he climbed back into the house through the kitchen window. The fridge followed suit, hurling its produce wildly at the Ministry wizards, its draws acting as catapults.
"Whatever is animating these objects is rendering them immune to direct magical casting!" shouted one of the aurors.
"We'd better hit what we can before it comes alive!" agreed another.
Vernon stood, horrified, as the wizards' cast spells left and right, tearing apart even the still inanimate furniture. "WHAT IS HAPPENING TO MY HOUSE?" he bellowed, only for a flurry of tomatoes to splatter across his face, turning it red.
Petunia made a desperate dash for various household items. "No, not the china!" she shrieked, diving for a teacup as a chair launched itself across the room. She then grabbed the teapot just before it hit the floor, only to have a flying broom smack everything out of her hands again.
Harry, meanwhile, stood helpless as the ground began to tremble beneath him. A loud crash echoed through the house, and Harry turned just in time to see the Dursleys' new Sedan burst through the front entrance as it careened toward a crowd of wizards. It then started reversing and accelerating to gradually batter down the wall to let it run-over the rest of them.
"STOP THAT CAR!" shouted an Auror, casting a spell to try and contain it. But before anything could be done, Harry's old cupboard door suddenly burst open.
All hell broke loose as Dudley's old broken toys emerged, having been stashed away there since Harry had received his cousin's second bedroom. A toy tank was the first to get in on the action, its turret top missing but its gun still in place. Tiny HESH shells seemed to materialise out of the canon, aiming for an auror. The latter cast an invisible shield to defend himself as what should have been plastic projectiles exploded against it with explosive force.
Toy soldiers followed the tank, a swarm of them marching like a horde of zombies. Some had lost their heads, hands, or feet, to Dudley's rough play but they didn't seem to mind. The toy army formed a makeshift front line and laid siege to the Auror's shield with their tiny rifles and miniature artillery. A few figurine officers barked orders from toy jeeps, urging their troops forward.
"Dawlish! I could use a hand here!" shouted the struggling Auror, his shield shimmering as it absorbed the relentless assault.
His partner, still a bit blue from his run in with the freezer, fired off spell after spell at the mass of toy troops, and when that failed to keep them down, started stamping on them. Dudley's remote-controlled car suddenly whizzed past the cupboard door trailed by skipping rope tied to its back, too fast for the auror to hit. A squad of toy soldiers sat on the car, having strapped Dudley's air gun to it, which they somehow used to launch the rope at him and drive around until it was tied around his legs. Meanwhile, a half-painted Spitfire model made its way out of the cupboard and proceeded to distract the auror until he tripped.
Hurry ducked behind a cabinet as the chaos mounted, but one of the toy soldiers found him, nonetheless. "Don't worry sir, we will have these Huns out of Blighty in a jiffy!" said the soldier, standing on one of the cabinet draw's knobs, saluting him smartly.
It was only now that Harry recognized the green toy soldier he'd rescued from one of Dudley's tantrums and had carefully glued back together; it had been one of his few possessions for years. "Are you trying to protect me?" Harry asked in amazement.
"But of course sir! The orders of GHQ were very clear! Protect the Evans bloodline! You have nothing to fear from us!" said the soldier, and then jumped off to join his fellows.
As the Auror's partner tumbled over, he was swarmed by the soldiers who proceeded to jump up and down on him in a vain attempt to squash the wizard. A few of them went further and unveiled a flag on top of his nose, singing what sounded like a very high-pitched version of God Save the Queen. The Auror's shield meanwhile finally gave way forcing him to retreat. The fridge door gave the auror a good swing as he went, throwing him clean out of the window as his partner finally got rid of the rope around his legs and stood up. His first kick knocked over the tank, while his second smashed the artillery battery. Vernon's car finally managed to break through the wall, hitting him in the rear before he could dish out a third kick at the toys below.
"No!" Vernon gasped, stumbling towards his pride and joy as the car shifted into reverse, sending him sprawling over the fallen doorknob of the front door, which collided sharply with his nose. He winced in pain, but the car continued its retreat, rolling beyond Number 4's premises.
Harry had a good view of the car from the broken doorway as it gave chase to an arriving group of wizards. But the moment it passed beyond their garden wall, the engine fell silent, leaving the car to drift onto the street right into the path of an approaching Ford Anglia.
"MY CAR!" wailed Uncle Vernon falling to his knees as the collision unfolded.
While Vernon's sedan was smashed beyond recognition, the Ford emerged unscathed. A ginger-haired man in a robe and pointed hat stepped out, looking both thrilled and thoughtful. "What a thrill! That unbreakable charm sure did the trick! Trouble is, it might mess with the flying enchantment later on." He tapped his chin before turning towards the chaos unfolding inside the house and the ruined sedan. His face twisted in shock. "Who's been charming all those Muggle appliances?" he exclaimed in outrage, taking care to step away from the Ford Anglia as if it didn't belong to him.
"I have no idea, but its attacking anyone who does magic!" shouted Harry.
The man, frowning at the pandemonium, nodded, about to speak again, but was cut off by a new arrival. "I say, who's in charge here?!" asked an elderly ministry official. "The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes is taking over; the muggles have noticed the disturbances, and the Obliviators are running ragged trying to control this mess!"
The ginger man nodded, "The Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office will assist you."
"For Merlin's sake, Arthur! This is a Law Enforcement matter, show some department loyalty!" shouted Dawlish, his robes tattered and his expression wild.
While the three men argued, Dudley came rushing down the stairs again with a look of abject horror "Mum! My toys are coming alive!" he shouted, before freezing at the sight of his broken old toys, who paused their operations against the aurors to stare back at him.
"It's Dudley the Destroyer! After him!" yelled an action figure missing an arm. The mass of Dudley's discarded toys immediately broke off their assault on the Aurors and charged after their former tormentor-in-chief.
"No, you fools! He's part of the Evan's bloodline!" shouted Harry's green soldier, trying in vain to catch up with the enraged mass of toys while driving a jeep with missing a wheel.
Petunia, wide-eyed with panic, rushed after her son. "Not my Dudley!" she cried, dodging a flying kitchen chair trying to take out an auror to intervene between her son and the hoard of toys. Her arms flailed, trying to swipe away the advancing figurines.
"Quickly men! Protect the Very Important Dursley!" exclaimed a secret agent figurine, sprinting to Dudley's side. More of Dudley's new birthday presents rallied behind him—comic book action figures, dinosaurs, and a remote-controlled jet fighter. The jet zoomed overhead and shot down the Spitfire model, while the action figures took on the toy soldiers in fierce hand-to-hand combat, taking care to pose impressively every so often
"Are you alright, sir?" the secret agent asked Dudley, riding atop a T-Rex as its jaws snapped at the advancing toy troops.
"GET AWAY!" Dudley screeched, pushing both the agent and the T-Rex off the stairs. Cowering behind a fallen picture frame, Dudley was too distracted to notice the tank's turret turning toward him. The toy tank, now back on its tracks, fired a tiny shell, splitting the frame in two. Dudley screamed and bolted back to his room, slamming the door just as one of the action figures launched a bazooka, blowing up the tank with a small but explosive blast. Petunia stumbled backward, still trying to save the picture frames and ornaments being decimated by the toy battle but finding only shattered wood and glass all around her.
Harry raised his head over the cabinet, his mind racing. "Should I try to help?" he wondered, but seeing the scale of the chaos unfolding, he decided to remain out of harm's way for now.
"Good news everyone!" said Amos Diggory, rugged and panting, "I dealt with the owls!" Sure enough, the house seemed empty of feathered creatures, until an ancient looking grey owl emerged from a shattered window and crash landed straight on Diggory's face.
Harry rushed to the bird's side and was relieved to see it was still alive as it opened its beak to let go of another large red envelope that seemed to rattle with fury.
"Errol! What are you doing here?" exclaimed the ginger man until he noticed the letter held by Harry, "Oh dear, I see Molly went ahead and sent that Howler after all."
Remembering the chaos when these letters hadn't been opened before, Harry, opted to open it revealing another floating mouth which immediately flew towards Aunt Petunia.
"PETUNIA DURSLEY!" roared the voice of an angry woman, her words so loud and forceful they caused every witch and wizard in the house to stop what they were doing. The end of the threat posed by their magic casting likewise froze the various appliances in the air.
"HOW COULD YOU KEEP THAT POOR BOY LOCKED UP AND STARVING LIKE SOME PRISONER!? WHAT SORT OF FAMILY TREATS A CHILD IN THIS WAY?!" The voice continued, getting even louder as if the letter itself was furious.
Petunia, pale and trembling, pressed herself against the far wall as the letter hovered closer and closer towards her. Before long, there was nowhere left to go but face the angry letter.
"THE WHOLE WIZARDING WORLD KNOWS NOW, AND IF I EVER GET MY WAND ON YOU, YOU WILL WISH YOU HAD NEVER HEARD OF MAGIC!"
Harry's eyes widened. Who was this woman? Why did she seem to care so passionately about him? His mind raced, trying to connect the dots, but his thoughts came back empty. Harry didn't notice the letter's approach, but rather than shout at him, it spoke with a soothing gentleness. "Harry dear, if you are hearing this, you are more than welcome to come live with us. I can't say we have much in the way of gold, but I promise, it will be a loving home."
"AND YOU, PETUNIA DURSELY, FROM ONE MOTHER TO ANOTHER, YOU OUGHT TO BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF! Screamed the letter, having zapped straight back to Petunia's side before exploding in her face, covering the terrified woman in soot.
For a moment, everyone stood in stunned silence. The ginger haired man was the first to speak looking rather sheepish, "Sorry about that, we just renewed our Prophet subscription, and this feature was the first to turn up on our doorstep. Molly was beside herself with anger, and rightfully so I might add, but naturally, there will have to be an official inquiry. Nobody is forcing you out of your home Mr. Potter, not until a suitable replacement has been found."
"This was never my home," muttered Harry quietly, and with that, every toy, piece of furniture, and flying household appliance still suspended in the air came crashing down to the floor as if the spell keeping them there had been broken. Little remained standing of Number 4 Privet drive save for the walls, and even they were now smashed through in some places.
The dust had barely settled in what was left of the Dursely's living room when a crack echoed through the broken doorway. A figure in a pinstriped suit and a lime green bowler had appeared, looking utterly unfazed by the sight of the chaos that surrounded him with an air of self-importance. A spectacled witch with curly blond hair stood behind him surveying the ruins with a passing gaze until they settled on Harry with a predatory gleam.
"Ah! There he is!" said the man, striding into the room to shake Harry's hand. "Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic! It's wonderful to see you safe and sound Mr. Potter! As you can see, the Ministry has everything under control!" he boasted just as a supporting pillar crashed down behind him, forcing the wizards beneath the falling debris to cast protective spells or jump away to safety.
The blond woman took out her wand and charmed a quill to take her notes as she spoke, the formally aggressive house objects showing no reaction at this obvious display of magic.
"Minister Fudge, saving the Boy Who Lived from horrid Muggle relatives. I can see the headline already! I will get the Barnabus Finkley Award for this, I am certain! Don't write that down Quill, we'd best save room for some modesty," she said, mostly to herself.
"Exactly!" Said Fudge, clearly basking in the moment. "I won't be surprised if there isn't an Order of Merlin in it for you dear Rita, why, your expose might have saved one of the Wizarding world's greatest heroes!" said Fudge, causing the witch to gush with pride.
"Excuse me… sir," started Harry, unsure how to address a high ranking magical official.
The Minister waved him off, "Oh come, come, Harry! You can call me Cornelius! We are all friends here after all! The moment I heard about your situation; I wasted no time in calling on all the Ministry's resources to rescue you from these dreadful muggles." Explained Fudge, gesturing to the numerous rather exhausted looking witches and wizards who didn't seem to share his excitement. Harry winced as magical medics started tending the injured.
"Harry Potter's rescue spared no expense, entire ministry mobilised," dictated Rita.
"Yes, exactly!" boomed Fudge, "The Ministry is at its best when we work together... but you will give proper credit to the man who made the decision, right?" he added with a frown.
"But of course, Minister!" replied the journalist beaming.
"Rescue me?" asked Harry, raising an eyebrow. He glanced at the still arguing wizards and witches, the initial arguments over jurisdiction seemed to have moved on to recriminations as each department blamed the other for the mess. It didn't feel like much of a rescue.
Just as Rita leaned in, about to ask Harry for a comment, a pair of cracks sounded revealing Xenophilius and Ameilia Bones just a short walk away from the house's entrance. Every Ministry official seemed to stand straighter as the severe-looking woman in black robes passed them by, including even her superior.
"To all the Department of Magical Law Enforcement agents present, I would like to pose a question, if I may. Why did it take the initiative of Mr. Lovegood, a private wizard with… interesting ideas, to inform me that this unsanctioned raid was being carried out, before I heard it from the Auror Office or anyone else in the Department for that matter?"
The Aurors seemed aghast at her words while Minister Fudge frowned, "Amelia, surely, we need not stand on protocol on such a happy occasion? I decided to act decisively the moment I read the paper! I couldn't find you, so I instructed the Aurors on my own authority!"
For the first time since she arrived, Madam Bones stared at the Minister with a rather pained expression, "Minister… The reason I was absent was that having visited Mr. Potter's residence once before, I learned of the existence of powerful blood protection charms on the premises. I wished to consult experts in the field to determine if and how it would be safe to remove Mr. Potter and perhaps even transfer these protections to his new residence."
"They are gone now, or at the very least dormant" said Lovegood, picking up the formally enchanted toaster and giving it a good shake. A final pair of toasts sprung out of the machine much to the ginger wizard's delight.
"By Merlin, that's clever! How does it work?" he asked, picking up the toaster as Xenophilius scrounged up an intact jar of jam and proceeded to spread it over the toast.
"The wards were real enough when I was here, set to protect Mr. Potter and any member of the Evans bloodline from magic that might endanger them. I could practically see the Wrackspurts coming off the walls!" he said in between bites of toast.
Minister Fudge coughed, "Excuse me Amelia, but I fail to see what manner of expertise Crackpot Lovegood and his barking rag could possibly provide us."
"Why my dear Corny Old Fudge!" exclaimed Lovegood, inviting a scowl from the minister. "I will have you know I am an expert in all manner of ancient and exotic magics! Who else is familiar with the Crumple-Horned Snorkack, the secret powers of Gnomes, let alone the true details of the ancient Deathly Hallows? I've spent years delving into these forgotten realms of magic, matters dismissed as 'fantasy' by your typical closed-minded scholar."
"Exactly my point," muttered the Minister.
Madam Bones sighed. "While Mr. Lovegood does have his oddities, he is one of the few wizards with more than a theoretical knowledge of Blood Magics."
"Indeed! Evans and McKinnon researched such magic with my Pandora for their future masteries. We were both in Ravenclaw at the time. I learned quite a bit from their work."
Harry blinked, "did you know my mother?"
Lovegood frowned, "not very well, she was one of Pandora's Gryffindor friends, not mine I am afraid," he said, suddenly looking a lot sadder and older than a moment ago.
"I still fail to understand what you hoped to achieve with this Amelia. If you wanted a master in ancient magics, you should have asked Dumbledore for help." said Fudge.
"I sent Mr. Lovegood ahead to get a better idea of what we were dealing with before we moved." Amelia continued with a stern voice, ignoring Fudge's suggestion. "He wasn't subtle, but it was certainly better than this: A dozen injured ministry workers, a muggle household practically destroyed by magic in broad daylight, a Minister going behind a department head's back, and journalists from three newspapers here to write about it!" she finished, gesturing towards Prunella who was furiously writing into a notebook.
Minister Fudge seemed to pale in realisation, and then rushed to the journalists to talk the matter over, though he didn't bother to include Xenophilius among them. The latter didn't seem at all phased by the exclusion, opting instead to continue investigating the house's ruins. "Blood, sacrifice, family, intent, home… is that it?" he asked, staring at Harry.
"Is something wrong?" asked Harry, rather befuddled by the day's events.
Xenophilius shook his head, "it does not matter, not anymore," he said, before looking at the fallen, cracked, but still functioning Dursely living room clock. "Oh! Is that the time? I must be off! This is a rare chance for the Quibbler to publish before the Prophet!"
Harry was left alone amidst the wreckage of Number 4 Privet Drive, trying to make sense of the chaos that had upended his life in just over an hour. It was hard to believe that earlier this morning, things had been… normal, or as normal as life with the Dursleys ever was.
Madam Bones approached him, her expression softening. "Mr. Potter, I know it's a lot to take in, but the Ministry has entrusted me to head a committee tasked with finding appropriate magical Guardians to take you in. You will be staying at my home until then. My niece lives with me and will also be starting Hogwarts this year. Susan will be back from the Abbots tomorrow, so you won't be alone. Go pack your things. You don't have to worry about the Dursleys anymore."
With that, she strode towards the aurors and started issuing orders, "Jones, assemble everyone you can and keep an eye on the perimeter; with the wards gone, we must be vigilant..."
As Harry climbed the stairs, and the sound of her voice faded, his concentration shifted back to the wreckage of the house. Dudley's toys lay scattered along the staircase, which had been transformed into a battlefield fought step by step, though Harry couldn't tell who won. As Harry reached his room, he found the door had been ripped asunder, evidently pushed aside when the owls had broken through his window. Apart from the shattered glass, however, his room appeared eerily untouched. All the inanimate objects in the room, both magical and muggle, remained exactly where he'd left them.
Harry sighed in relief and walked over to his trunk, flipping it open to pack his school supplies and those few possessions he could call his own. His robes folded easily enough; Harry having worn a single set only once to see how he'd look in them. While he was packing, his mind wandered to thoughts of the future; what was going to happen to him? Was he really leaving Privet Drive for good? It seemed too good to be true.
Just as Harry was about to take his wand off the nightstand, he heard a creak behind him. Turning around, Harry found Dudley standing awkwardly in the doorway. His face was pale, his eyes wide with lingering fear from the chaos that had unfolded both inside and outside his room.
For a moment, neither of them said anything.
Dudley shuffled uncomfortably, glancing nervously at Harry's half-packed trunk before darting his eyes away to look at the ceiling. "You... you're leaving?" He asked, his voice shaky, and not at all the confident, bullying tone Harry was used to.
Harry nodded, "Yeah. Looks like it."
Dudley's eyes flicked back to the mess along the stairs, the fallen toys that had chased him for what felt like hours. His lip trembled, and for a second, Harry wondered if he was going to start crying. But instead, Dudley mumbled something, but it was barely audible.
"Good... it's good that you're finally going," he said, raising his voice a little, but even then, it didn't carry its usual venom, at least where Harry was concerned.
Harry blinked, unsure of how to respond. He didn't think Dudley was trying to insult him, but it wasn't exactly a kind goodbye either. "Yeah," he said slowly, "I guess it is."
For a moment, Dudley hesitated, as if there was something more he wanted to say. But instead, he turned and disappeared back into his room without another word. Harry stood in place for a moment longer. Was that Dudley's way of saying goodbye? He shook his head and went back to packing his trunk. With the last of his things inside, he shut the lid with a soft thud and glanced around the room. How many years had he longed to be given this room instead of the cramped cupboard under the stairs, and yet, here he was looking at it for the last time a few weeks after getting it. It didn't feel like home, it never did.
Harry somehow managed to drag his trunk and Hedwig's empty cage down the stairs, carefully pushing away the fallen toys as he went to make room. When he got to the landing and pulled at his trunk, he was surprised to feel it was getting lighter until both it and the cage started floating over the step towards the ground floor. The pink haired witch stood at the foot of the stairs wand in hand guiding his belongings. Harry smiled gratefully, a gesture she returned with a wink. As she stepped away to let his things through, her elbow grazed a vase which had miraculously survived the onslaught causing it to tumble to the floor and shatter.
"Trainee Tonks! Watch where you are going, how many times do I have to tell you that?" barked one of the Aurors causing the witch to blush a bright red Harry didn't think possible.
"Sorry sir," she muttered, casting a quick spell to fix the vase with her wand hand while the other caught Harry's trunk and guided it down to the floor.
With nothing to hold his attention, Harry's gaze shifted back to the fallen toys until they settled on the familiar shape of his green soldier. Like its fellows, it was also quite still having taken a few nasty hits returning him to his previous state before Harry had glued him back together. It seemed a shame to leave him behind, especially after today, prompting Harry to gather the soldier's pieces into his pocket with the intention of fixing him later.
"Aurors, make sure the Muggle-Repelling Charms are in place until we can go over this mess properly. Obliviators, the Excuse Committee is going with a gas explosion, so remember to reinforce any memory charms you have cast with the cover story. I am leaving Kingsly in charge while I am gone. That is all."
With that, the wizards dispersed, leaving Madam Bones and Harry alone by the stairway. "Is that everything? Excellent. You may say your goodbyes if you wish, but I would prefer that we do not linger. With the blood protections set around this place gone, this is no longer a secure location."
For the first time in his life, Harry realised this really was the end. He wouldn't be coming back to this house, to this family, ever again. He cast one last glance at the Dursleys. They didn't look at him or even say a word. Vernon and Petunia were still huddled together, pale and trembling. For a moment, Harry felt an odd pang of guilt—not for leaving, but for how all of this had spiraled out of his control. But as quickly as that feeling had come, it dissipated, replaced by all of Harry's accumulated disappointments and frustrations with his Muggle relatives. This was as much their mess as it was his.
"Goodbye," he muttered softly, not expecting them to respond.
"Wait," said Petunia with sore voice, surprising Harry as she stood up to face him, her dress still in tatters. "Your mother got caught up in that world, with that Potter, and it destroyed her. She thought magic made her special, but it marked her for death in the end. Don't fool yourself. Magic might give you power today, but it'll take everything from you, just like it did to her. It might take years, but one day you will wish you had never heard of magic!"
With that said, Madam Bones led them out the shattered doorway, Harry's trunk and cage hovering after them. "Pay her no heed Harry, those are just the words of a bitter woman who couldn't have what her sister did. I've done my research on your muggle family," said Bones.
Harry nodded, but he wasn't as certain, after all, wasn't everything Petunia had said about his mother technically true? Just as they began to step outside the house, a fluttering noise caught Harry's attention. Hedwig swooped down gracefully from the sky, clutching a newspaper in her claws. She landed on his shoulder, hooting softly, dropping the paper into his hands. Harry's heart sank when he saw the headline on the front page of the Daily Prophet:
Shocking Truth: Harry Potter Endured Muggle Abuse! By Rita Skeeter
With growing unease, he unrolled the paper and began reading.
Alarming evidence suggests that for the past decade, Harry Potter has been hidden away from the magical world, subjected to severe mistreatment at the hands of his Muggle guardians. Denied knowledge of his magical heritage, Potter has been kept in near isolation and savagely punished for any display of accidental magic. Reports suggest that Potter was subject to daily beatings and confined to a cupboard where he was denied proper meals.
Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge expressed grave concerns over the situation, vowing immediate action to ensure that no further harm comes to Harry Potter. "It is the Ministry's top priority to investigate this matter fully and take any steps necessary to protect the Boy Who Lived," said Fudge in a statement to the Daily Prophet. "We will not stand by while a child—least of all Harry Potter—suffers at the hands of Muggles." (continued on page 3)
The Dursleys Unveiled: Who Are the Muggles Behind Harry's Torment? (Page 4)
Did Dumbledore Know? The Headmaster's Role in Mr. Potter's Upbringing. (Page 5)
Are Magical Children Safe in Muggle Households? The Ministry Pledges Reform. (Page 6)
His grip on the paper tightened as he read on. He knew the Malfoys had pushed the Ministry to act faster, but he hadn't expected something like this. Sure, the Dursleys hadn't been great, but this article made it sound like his life had been some kind of horror story.
"They… didn't need to write all that," Harry muttered, his voice filled with frustration.
Madam Bones stepped closer, glancing at the article. "Mr. Potter... Harry. I regret I have to say this, but this story isn't just about what happened with your aunt and uncle anymore."
Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"
She sighed, choosing her words carefully. "I have reason to suspect the Malfoys intentionally leaked your case to the press. They want to remind people of the bad old days, when magical children often got hurt because they couldn't defend themselves."
Harry frowned, confused. "Are you saying they were using me?"
"In a way, yes," Madam Bones admitted softly. "They're making this big story about how Muggles can't be trusted, hoping people will agree with them. And it's not just about Muggles. It's about how people like Arthur Weasley, those who believe Muggles and wizards should get along, are made to look foolish and wrong."
"But I thought… I thought they just wanted me away from the Dursleys."
"They do," Madam Bones said, her voice firm but kind. "But they also see your situation as a political opportunity."
Harry felt his heart sink. The Malfoys had been so kind to him, but now he realised that they had been playing a bigger game. One he was now a part of it—whether he liked it or not.
Madam Bones placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You're not just a pawn in all of this, Harry. You'll have a say in what happens next. I'll make sure of that."
Harry glanced down at the newspaper again. The weight of the situation felt heavier now. Considering how horribly they behaved towards Dobby, he knew the Malfoys weren't the most ethical of people, but he hadn't realised how deep it all went. He didn't want to believe they were just using him, but now it felt hard not to.
Madam Bones extended her hand. "Take my arm."
Harry hesitated for a moment before gripping her arm. He took a deep breath as he looked back at the shattered doorway—his life with the Dursleys ending with it. Then, with a rush of air, the world closed in around him, and Privet Drive disappeared from his life for good.
Last edited on the 12/10/24
General Notes: This chapter was rather difficult to write. It is a visual chapter with a lot of things happening at the same time. The 3rd movie did that rather well at the start when Harry blows up his aunt, but what is easier for the visual medium to do is pretty hard for the written form. Do please tell me if there is something you find jarring or confusing about it though, since this story is still very much a work in progress even after publication. While I do not have any plans to change the substance of the chapters, I may very well change small aspects of them and the order they are presented in the future.
I regret to say the next chapter will take longer to write as I am working on it with more limitations on my time. I expect it will be uploaded on the 26/10 or the 02/11 and that the pace of updates will slow thereafter to once or twice a month as my semester break ends. The good news is that I have a very detailed plotline for the pre-Hogwarts stage of the story and can now conclusively say it will be 15 chapters in total (meaning we are halfway through.) I also have a good idea of what I want to do with the story of Harry's first year at Hogwarts. OCs will be necessary, but the trio will be the constant POV focus.
Addendum 1: Thanks again to Lilitari for beta reading this chapter. Her advice was very helpful in patching up what was otherwise a humorous comedy sequence into something more anchored in Harry's perspective and other events, which was somewhat lost in its 2nd draft. Harry is still mostly an observer in the middle section, and I think that works for the most part, but at least the story doesn't forget that he's there in the way it did in earlier drafts.
Addendum 2: After fleshing out exactly what I want and need to get out of my OCs, I decided that there was no need for Fenwick to be related to the Olivanders and that the addition is more jarring than helpful when I'd prefer to concentrate on a more important relation. Chapter 6 has been edited to reflect these changes including a change to his eye colour from gray-silver to blue that seems more appropriate for a Trelawny relation.
Addendum 3: As mentioned previously, the letters attached in the previous chapter, have been distributed to all three of Ron's POV.
Thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. JK Rowling and any organisation empowered by her to that effect own the Harry Potter title and its related products.