Author's Note: I just wanted to thank everyone who reviewed. I really appreciate it. Uh, this chapter would be one of the reasons why this story is rated PG-13, because of Aunt's Marge's excessive use of adult language. Enjoy!
CHAPTER TWO
THE ARRIVAL OF AUNT MARGE
The next day found Harry scrubbing the windows spotless as Aunt Petunia mopped the floor. Uncle Vernon and Dudley had yet to get up.
"Good, now go out and weed the garden," Petunia ordered as she finished the mopping.
Harry stumbled out into the slightly lit back yard and headed towards the garden. Aunt Petunia awoke him at 5:30 in an attempt to get an early start at cleaning the house for Aunt Marge's arrival.
Harry looked up to see dawn approaching. He yawned, wishing he hadn't stayed up so late doing his Charms homework and also wishing that his dreams about Sirius would end so he could have a peaceful night's sleep.
He had just bent down into the garden when a large barn owl swooped over his head and landed next to him, a large sheet of parchment clasped in its talons.
Harry slipped a little bronze Knut into the bag attached to its leg and the owl dropped the parchment, then flew away. Harry opened his Daily Prophet and got a severe jolt as he read the first headline.
YOU-KNOW-WHO'S SUPPORTERS ARRESTED AFTER KILLING MUGGLES
Nearly a dozen or so of You-Know-Who's supporters (called Death Eaters) were found in a Muggle town outside Bristol last evening. Three of them were captured and arrested after four Muggles and two Aurors were killed.
"It's clear that the Death Eaters are up to their old tricks again," said Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge last night. "I'm upset to hear that once again Muggles have become victims of You-Know-Who."
The three Death Eaters that were caught, Thorton Braddock, Julius March, and Edgar Roddick, will all be sent to Azkaban to join their fellow Death Eaters who were caught last month.
A memorial for the two Aurors that died, Gavin Farrell and Aidan Curtis, will be held in the Atrium at the Ministry of Magic tomorrow night.
Kingsley Shacklebolt, an Auror who arrested two of the three Death Eaters last evening said this about his fellow Aurors: "They gave their lives to the war with You-Know-Who. There's nothing much more honorable than that."
Harry sat there, stunned. The Death Eaters were up to their old tricks again, killing Muggles for sport. Harry felt sick.
He stuffed the paper away into his back pocket and began to weed the garden. He'd look over the Prophet a little later when he had the time. That was, if he had time left after all of the things Aunt Petunia was scheduling for him to do before the arrival of Aunt Marge. As he weeded, he thought about the Death Eaters and the Muggles they killed. His resolve for becoming an Auror strengthened as the image of dead people swam into his mind. He had already lost his parents and Sirius to Voldemort and his followers and he was there when Cedric Diggory died at the hands of Wormtail, the man who betrayed his parents to Voldemort. The night that Sirius had died he had led his friends into a trap that nearly killed all of them. He recalled clearly the moment when Hermione had been hit by that spell that knocked her unconscious. He remembered how scared he had been, hoping that she hadn't died. She survived, but Sirius hadn't. He had to become an Auror. He hoped that he had enough O.W.L.s to do so.
When he finished, the sun was fully up and he headed back inside, taking his shoes off first so he wouldn't dirty up his aunt's floor. He cleaned up quickly just as Uncle Vernon strode into the living room and turned on the morning news.
Aunt Petunia stepped up beside Harry. "I see you're done," she said coolly. "Now grab a dust rag and dust the living room."
"Yes, Aunt Petunia," he muttered nonchalantly as he wandered off to go get the dust rag.
By the time he had returned to the living room, the morning anchorman had finished with the local news and was saying, "In other news this morning, four people were found dead last evening in a town just outside of Bristol."
Harry slowly turned and began to dust, listening hard to the television.
"Police say that there was no sign of an assault and there is no clear sign of death. The police do think, however, that these deaths are somewhat related to a few murders that took place nearly fifteen years ago. The police are hoping to catch the person or persons who have committed these crimes."
"Damn incompetent police force," Vernon muttered as he took a sip of his coffee.
Petunia was hanging in the doorway. "Did he say that there was no sign of an assault?"
"Yes. Why?" Vernon asked.
"Oh, no reason." She looked faintly pale. "Odd, isn't it?"
"Yes, I suppose so," Vernon replied.
"And they said that the murders might be linked to some that happened fifteen years ago?" she asked nervously. Harry swore that for a mere millisecond her gaze flickered over to him.
"Yes, but I highly doubt they are," Vernon said and took another sip of his coffee.
Petunia walked away, leaving Harry puzzled. What on earth could she be thinking?
*****
After breakfast that morning, Vernon headed off to the train station to pick up Aunt Marge. Petunia was fixing Dudley's hair as he ate an ice cream sandwich and watched TV.
"Why must you mess with my hair?" Dudley demanded around a mouthful of chocolate and vanilla ice cream.
"It makes you look so grown up, Popkins," Petunia replied adoringly as she smoothed his hair.
Dudley scowled and took another bite of the ice cream.
Harry was sitting on the stairs, trying to avoid being noticed, and reading the rest of the Daily Prophet. He had managed to avoid anymore work and was enjoying the chance to read the paper, but there was nothing else about Voldemort or the Death Eaters, just trivial news about wizards around the country.
Harry went to his room and put the paper away. Hedwig, his snowy white owl, was asleep in her cage. And suddenly, it hit him. Hedwig! Aunt Marge was coming and she didn't know he had an owl and if she saw her, she'd surely find out that he, Harry, was a wizard. He couldn't imagine the repercussions of that.
He quickly scrambled to his desk, got out a piece of parchment, a quill pen, and some ink and began to write a letter to his friend Ron.
Dear Ron,
Sorry to bother you, but could you take care of Hedwig for me for about a week? My Aunt Marge is coming over soon. Yeah, she is the one I blew up a few years ago, in case you were wondering.
Thanks a bunch Ron.
Harry
"Hedwig," he whispered, "wake up. You've got to go to Ron's. Hedwig. Hedwig. Hedwig!"
The owl shook away, giving him an irritated look. "You're going to have to stay with Ron for awhile, okay?"
She gave him a reproachful look. "It's only for a week. Aunt Marge is currently on her way. You've got to go."
She stuck out her leg and let him tie the letter on her. "Thanks, Hedwig. Have fun at Ron's," he said and ushered the bird out the window not a moment too soon. He heard a car door slam.
"Potter, get down here! Aunt Marge is here!" Aunt Petunia yelled from the bottom of the stairs.
Harry walked slowly and reluctantly down the stairs. Through the front door he could see Aunt Marge's form get bigger and bigger. He hesitated on the last step before Aunt Petunia ordered, "Don't just stand there, open the door!"
He stepped off the last step and opened the door, immediately trying to hide behind it. "Petunia, darling!" was the first thing beefy Aunt Marge said as she dropped all of her luggage and kissed Aunt Petunia on the cheek.
Marge looked just like Uncle Vernon and even had a mustache, albeit a thin one.
"Hello Marge. Wonderful to see you again," said Petunia, returning the gesture.
"And where's my neffy-poo Dudder's?" Marge asked in her usual gruff voice.
Right on cue, Dudley waddled out with a big fake smile plastered on his face. "Aunt Marge!" he yelled in false delight.
Marge wrapped her beefy arms halfway around Dudley. Harry rolled his eyes. When Dudley stepped away he was holding a crisp twenty pound note.
Uncle Vernon walked in with Marge's bulldog, Ripper. "Get her luggage, boy, and take it to her room," he ordered.
Harry complied just as Marge rounded on him. "Vernon, Petunia, you mean to tell me that you still must take care of him?"
Harry bit his lip to keep from retorting. He continued to gather Aunt Marge's things as Vernon steered her away. "Unfortunately, St. Brutus's won't take him for the whole year, no matter how many times we ask."
"I'd keep asking if I were you. Honestly, having to keep that miserable scruffy boy. I tell you, Vernon, I'd have sent him to the orphanage straight away."
Harry grabbed the last of her things with a scowl and took them upstairs to the guest bedroom. He dropped them off in her room and then stepped out, lingering in the hallway, deciding whether or not to go back downstairs.
His decision was made for him when he heard, "Boy, get down here!"
He sighed. With Hedwig gone, he had lost all connection with the wizarding world. He'd stop his subscription to the Daily Prophet in the morning. He was officially alone.
He walked slowly back downstairs into the kitchen where Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Dudley, and Aunt Marge were having tea. Ripper was lying on the floor by Marge's feet.
"…and then the attendant just walked away. I never did get a pillow," Aunt Marge was saying.
"That's awful," Petunia said. "Whatever happened to good service?"
"That's just what I was wondering," Marge said gruffly. "I'll be writing a letter to the train company when I get home."
"As you very well should," said Vernon in the same manner as Marge. He looked up and saw Harry. "Well it's about time. Get us some more tea, boy."
"Yes Uncle Vernon," he said tonelessly as he grabbed the teapot off the stove.
He stopped at Marge first, who took the teapot roughly from his hands and said, "I'll do it. You'll just mess it up."
Harry bit his tongue and stood by, waiting to receive the pot back, but Marge passed it on to Vernon who said, "Sit down boy."
Harry obeyed and sat down between Aunt Petunia and Dudley, who took the opportunity to kick him hard in the shins. Harry winced, but didn't say a word.
Aunt Marge was studying him closely. "I see he's pretty silent now, eh? Finally got the mutt trained."
Harry quickly removed his hands from the table, which were making fists.
Vernon eyed Harry closely. "Oh, it depends. I'd like to think St. Brutus's has broken his spirit, but he's practically the same as he's always been."
"Still a rude and ungrateful little maggot then, is he?" Marge sneered. "I should have expected nothing less.
Harry looked down at the table. Think about Hogwarts. Think about Quidditch. Think about flying. Think about Ron and Hermione. Think about Hagrid.
"Nothing like my good neffy-poo Dudders, is he? I bet when you're not watching he smokes marijuana and snorts cocaine."
Think about Hogwarts. Think about Quidditch. Think about flying. Think about Ron and Hermione. Think about Hagrid.
"You know, I've never thought of that. Petunia, perhaps you and I should go check out his room sometime to see if he has any of that filth in our house."
Think about Hogwarts. Think about Quidditch. Think about flying. Think about Ron and Hermione. Think about Hagrid.
"Oh, I'd bet anything he's into that garbage," Marge said. "Just look at his parents. Weirdoes, lowlifes, scum."
Think about Hogwarts. Think about Quidditch. Think about flying. Think about Ron and Hermione. Think about Hagrid.
"He's probably got loads of junk he shouldn't have up there in that room of his," she finished.
Think about Hogwarts. Think about Quidditch. Think about flying. Think about Ron and Hermione. Think about Hagrid.
"I thought I saw him looking at a dirty magazine once," Dudley said loudly, causing all of them to turn and look at Harry with the utmost revulsion.
"What!" Harry cried. He could not keep his silence any longer. "What on earth are you talking about?"
"I saw it. He was in his room flipping through the pages. I was going to tell you before, but I didn't know if he had seen me looking at him. I was scared," Dudley continued to lie, his eyes focused on Harry with glee.
Harry jumped up out of his seat. "I don't know what you're talking about! Dirty magazines, ha! Then what's underneath your bed, huh? And not only that, you're the one whose been lying about going out for tea! You hang out with Piers and your gang, beat up little kids, and smoke on street corners!"
Aunt Petunia looked shocked by the outburst while Uncle Vernon and Aunt Marge looked furious. "Come with me, boy!" Vernon shouted, grabbing Harry by the scruff of the neck and leading him out of the kitchen.
"Who the hell do you think you are, telling such lies about Dudley like that?" he bellowed.
"I'm not telling lies, unlike your precious son," Harry shot back. "If you want proof go look underneath his bed or check the pockets of his leather coat."
"YOU'RE A FILTHY ROTTEN LIAR!" roared Aunt Marge, who was now standing in the doorway. "If I were you, Vernon, I'd kick him out."
Petunia now was also standing in the doorway, partially blocked by the huge form of Aunt Marge.
"Yes, yes, that sounds like and excellent idea, Marge," Vernon agreed, nodding his purple head. "I've been saying for months it's high time you go where you belong, boy-the streets!"
"So, you want me out?" Harry asked, enraged. "Fine. I'll leave here. I will. But I have to inform some people first."
"Who? Who must you inform? Your parole officer?" Aunt Marge said with a cackle.
"Oh, you would think so," Harry replied sourly. "No, just a friend of mine. Y'know, Uncle Vernon, the one you met last month when you came to pick me up from the train station. My good friend Mad-Eye."
Vernon went from purple to pale and then yelled, "YOU DON'T HAVE ANY FRIENDS, POTTER."
"Shows how little you know. Now, I'm going to go write my friends and pack." He frowned. "I pity you, actually. Mad-Eye and Moony aren't going to be too happy when they hear about this. Nope. Then there'll be hell to pay. I'd love to see what they'd do to you," he said, pointing at Marge.
"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK THAT WAY TO MARGE, YOU FOUL LITTLE INGRATE!" Vernon roared.
Harry turned. "What, I'm leaving, so I don't have to care anymore."
"GET OUT!"
"Just as soon as I go write Mad-Eye and my friend's dad about all of this. I'm sure he'll take me in." He then looked at Petunia. "Sorry, Aunt Petunia, but you broke your promise. Terrible thing too. Who knows what's going to happen now."
"Vernon," Petunia called quickly as Harry started for the steps, "he's under age." There was a slight quaver to her voice. "We are his legal guardians and we could get in trouble. He must stay."
"Nonsense, Petunia," said Aunt Marge. "Let the son-of-a-bitch go. He deserves it. I bet the police will catch him and throw him in prison. He belongs there."
"I can't," said Aunt Petunia painfully. "As much as I hate it, he's my sister's son. He's blood, as filthy as he is. We cannot in good conscious leave him for dead."
"Even though he's a menace to society? A good-for-nothing lowlife who's leeching off of you and Vernon?" Marge said, clearly not understanding.
"He's blood," Petunia repeated, sounding miserable. "Harry, you're staying."
"Fine, whatever. If I must," Harry replied as he leaned against a wall.
"You ungrateful little brat!" yelled Marge. "Honestly, Petunia, you're much too soft. Let the little wart go. He's suited for a life of crime, there's nothing you can do."
Harry laughed. "Oh, yeah, I'm the criminal." He shot a glance at Dudley. "I'm taking away your light, Dud. How about that."
"Enough of your foolish lies about my son!" Vernon bellowed. "Petunia, darling, are you sure about this?"
"He must stay," Petunia insisted.
"Quit fooling yourself, Petunia. Let the hellion go. There's no need to support him anymore. I'm quite sure he's probably got enough money from pick pocketing around the neighborhood. How often do you let him out?" said Marge.
"I'm allowed out whenever I want," Harry answered for Aunt Petunia.
"SHUT YOUR MOUTH, BRAT!" Marge shouted.
"Yes, Aunt Marge," he said in a mock polite voice.
"Stop that!" yelled Uncle Vernon. "Or you'll be sleeping in a box."
"What, you mean he won't be sleeping in a box?" Marge asked, looking astounded. "Hell, I'd make him sleep in the mud."
"No, we can't. He will, however, be staying in his room," Petunia said.
"For the rest of the summer. And you won't disturb any of us again," Vernon added to Harry.
"Of course not," he said with a mock bow. "Now why would I want to irritate such pleasant people such as yourselves?" he asked with a sarcastic sweetness in his voice.
"Keep it up, boy, and I may not send you back to St. Brutus's, if you get my meaning," Uncle Vernon threatened.
Harry clasped a hand over his heart. "You wouldn't!" he cried out in false anguish.
Obviously, that was not the reaction Vernon expected. "BOY! Keep it up and it will be prison for you."
"He's enjoying this far too much, Vernon," Aunt Marge scowled. "Send him away now. Prison will be good for him."
"People," Harry said, grabbing their attention, "prison is nothing. I mean, come on! Don't you realize that I already live in hell?"
Vernon looked like he was going to leap at Harry when Petunia squeezed her way out from behind Marge and placed a hand on Vernon's huge shoulder. "Forget it, Vernon. He's just trying to rattle you. Just leave him alone and let's all go into the kitchen and have some lunch, okay?"
Vernon snorted, but nodded. "Don't expect any food for awhile, Potter!" he yelled.
"Absolutely not, sir. After all, you never fed me very well anyway. That's why I'm the toothpick and Dudley's the…well, what would be a good word for him? Hmm, elephant's not big enough. Hmm, maybe a blue whale. I don't know. Something big like that though."
"Watch your mouth, Potter," Vernon sneered.
"Certainly. Oh, and Big D, if you happen to see any of your gang today, tell them I said hello. Oh, and tell your latest victim that it's not their fault you're beating them up-it's just that you've been so spoiled that you don't know any better."
Dudley walked slowly towards the steps and Harry stood calmly, watching his every move. "You think you're so clever, Dudley," he went on. "It's quite pathetic. Step on that stair and I will have to hurt you," he said casually, bringing his hand up to his pocket and patting it. Dudley stopped immediately.
"Vernon, he's got a knife!" Marge shrieked.
"A knife? Hardly," he replied. "I've got my wa-"
"GET UP THERE, NOW!" Vernon roared, looking paler than ever. "Dudley, get back over here."
Dudley did as he was told as Uncle Vernon eyed Harry angrily. "If you don't get up there now, boy, I will make you get up there."
Harry smirked. "Oh, I'm so scared," he replied sarcastically.
"GO!" Vernon ordered.
Harry yawned loudly. "What? I don't think I heard you."
"VERNON, HARRY, THAT'S ENOUGH!" Aunt Petunia screamed at the top of her lungs. Both stopped. "Vernon, come back down and leave him alone. Harry, go to your room and leave us alone, please."
Harry looked from Aunt Petunia's pleading face to Uncle Vernon's purple one and back again, realizing that enough damage had been inflicted. Not only that, but Harry now felt weary. He nodded. "Fine, but only because you asked so nicely," he muttered and headed up the stairs, leaving the Dursleys to gape after him.