Chapter 7- Concealed Identities
Harry's eyes shot wide open, as he felt his jaw lower slightly in awe. He studied Mr. Weasley and Lupin's faces, both looking at him with serious but uneasy expressions, as if they were worried he would burst out laughing at any moment, which he almost did. After all, his Aunt, she couldn't be- it wasn't possible- she just simply could not be a Squib. After all, she treated Harry almost as miserably as Uncle Vernon, with his wizarding blood as the only excuse. Not to mention before he was even born; Aunt Petunia hated his mother just as much as she hated him; she regarded his mum as a "freak".
Harry struggled to explain this. "No, she isn't," he stammered, stupidly, suddenly desperate to be understood, "I mean, she hates wizards, she's just a muggle."
Mr. Weasley bowed his head, looking down at the table and avoiding Harry's wild eyes, so Harry turned instead to Lupin, longing for support in his belief.
"Lupin, I am right, aren't I?" Harry said weakly, staring at Lupin and willing him to agree.
Lupin looked pityingly at Harry and said, softly, "I'm sorry, Harry. But Arthur's telling you the truth."
Harry refused to believe it. He felt slightly dizzy as he tried to think straight. "But she hates me; she hated my mum," he said, voice cracking slightly as his head continued to swim.
"Think about it Harry," Lupin said, consolingly, "Of course she would treat you with disdain; it isn't exactly great and enjoyable to be born into a wizarding family, but to be denied learning magic."
Harry opened and closed his mouth soundlessly, like a fish out of water, as he took in what Lupin was saying. It did make sense, he supposed. After all, he could not imagine watching Dudley go off to Hogwarts while he was stuck behind, to hear him rave about everything he was learning to his parents while Harry sat back in a jealous corner.
Suddenly, as he recalled his Aunt's reactions, the pieces of the puzzle slid into place in Harry's mind.
"That's how she knew where Dumbledore was, and why I needed to stay there over summer," Harry said slowly, the fog in his head lifting.
Lupin and Mr. Weasley just nodded leisurely in return, apparently relieved that Harry believed them.
Harry leaned back in his chair, mouth still agape as he grew accustomed to the truth.
"So then, she understands the risks of keeping me?" Harry asked to no one in particular.
No one returned an answer, but Harry knew she understood already, and he suddenly felt a bit warmer towards her. Eventually his head began to ache, and he longed to see Ron and Hermione, so he could discuss everything with them; they would know what to say. However, first he had a few more questions.
"Who was that Sellbit man?" Harry suddenly asked, changing the topic. "And how did he arrive so quickly?"
Harry could tell that both Lupin and Mr. Weasley were slightly taken aback by his abrupt change of topic, and he watched as their expressions both lightened dramatically, before Lupin said eagerly, "Well, Sellbit is working for the Order, Harry, and he's another one looking after Privet Drive."
So Mrs. Figg wasn't the only one looking after Harry? He needed multiple baby-sitters to keep track of him now! He began arguing, slowly becoming angrier at their distrust in his independent abilities. "Another one?!" he shouted, standing up, shoving his chair back against the wall behind him, where it toppled over, and glaring at Lupin and Mr. Weasley. "I can take care of myself! Haven't I proved myself enough times for you?!" he yelled, never tearing his eyes away from their cowering faces. "Everyone thinks I'm such an incompetent baby, but I'm not!" he finished, chest heaving as he stared at them fiercely, daring them to question his anger.
Lupin was the first to speak. Standing to talk to Harry directly, he said soothingly, "No one believes you are incapable of defending yourself, Harry. But as capable as you are to take care of yourself, it involves more than that. We need someone protecting Privet Drive, not just you; we need someone protecting your relatives."
Harry stood, grudgingly identifying Lupin's sense in his reasoning, and plopped submissively down in the chair next to him. He hadn't even thought of the possibility that they were protecting the Dursleys as well, and he felt quite selfish in his oversight.
"Right," he mumbled, "Of course."
"And to finish explaining," Lupin continued nonchalantly, "Sellbit is an Animagus. You know him better as Mr. Tibbles, I do believe. He stays with Mrs. Figg."
Now, this was something Harry had not been expecting in the slightest. He always felt that there was something unique about Mr. Tibbles, but an Animagus?
Numb with astonishment, Harry slouched back in his chair as he said, bewildered, "This entire time, the cat that I've pet has been a human."
Lupin let out a slight chuckle as he answered, "A little disturbing, I know."
Harry's face remained blank as he asked, staring off into space, "Why hasn't he shown himself before now?"
At this Mr. Weasley re-engaged himself in the conversation, explaining, "Well, he isn't exactly registered. Transforming into a human risks alerting the ministry to the existence of another wizard in Little Whinging, which they keep track of quite regularly."
"Then how did you arrive without being detected?" Harry asked, curious.
"Well, since we did not linger long, we weren't at as high of a risk," Mr. Weasley began. "Not to mention a Concealment Charm Dumbledore placed around your block before our arrival," he added as an afterthought. "It's like a large, invisible, impenetrable dome encasing the neighborhood, and allows us to go undetected for a certain length of time."
Harry marveled inwardly at Dumbledore's incredible power. He could not picture anyone else accomplishing such a feat, except maybe Voldemort.
Although he had not previously believed it to be possible, Harry's head was filled with even more confusing thoughts, chasing each other around his brain, than before he asked his questions.
He rubbed his forehead, willing his increasingly painful headache to go away. Then, just as he stood to thank them for their explanations, there was an incredibly powerful stab of pain in his forehead. Harry gasped, clutching his forehead in both hands, squinting his eyes closed against the pain. It felt as if a burning knife had been stabbed into his scar, and it seared as if it were on fire. He felt his head spin, the pain was unbearable, and he slowly fell…fell….
A high-pitched, icy laughter rang through his ears, a flash of blinding green light flashed before him. He heard his mothers' cries, "Take me, not him!" his father screaming at Lily, "Take Harry and run! I'll try to hold him off!"
"Harry! Harry! HARRY!"
Harry looked blearily up at Lupin's face, bending over him. As soon as he opened his eyes he felt another stab of pain, slighter this time, but it still was painful enough to cause him to take a sharp breath through clenched teeth. Harry sat up, sweating slightly, as Lupin grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet. He was still in the kitchen, though he now had a dull throbbing pain on the back of his head as well, and running his hands through his hair he felt a bump beginning to form where his head had smashed into the ground when he fainted.
"Are you alright Harry?" Lupin asked concernedly.
"Yeah," Harry said, still rubbing his scar, "It was just my scar. It happens all the time."
Mr. Weasley and Lupin continued to look at him as if afraid he would faint again; he needed to go rest, and escape their fretting stares.
"Um, I'm going to go upstairs now and try to rest for a bit," Harry said, inching towards the kitchen door.
"Alright," replied Mr. Weasley, "Everyone's upstairs, if you care to see them."
Harry nodded to show he heard and shoved the heavy kitchen door open, starting up a dark staircase leading to the main floor.
But before the door shut behind him, Lupin grabbed it to keep it open and said to Harry, "There are more things we must discuss, Harry. They can wait until after dinner, but they're important." Before Harry could say anything, Lupin retreated back into the kitchen, and the door dragged across the thick carpet and shut again.
He had to run his hands along the wall as he climbed the steep wooden stairs in order to keep from tripping in the dark. The only sliver of light shone from the top of the staircase, through a tiny slit at the bottom of the door. Harry creaked open the door quietly, clicking it shut behind him with hardly a sound, and tip-toed across the hall to the main staircase. Pictures of ancient Blacks with hollow eyes lined the walls, and a moth-eaten carpet ran under his feet. Every light in the old house cast an eerie heavy orange glow that bathed the ground below it, and then cast the rest in shadow. As he approached a grand painting with a curtain draped over it, he felt a burst of malice but continued on, careful not to disturb Sirius' mother. She had locked herself in the painting and they had been unable to get it down from the wall. The picture used to taunt Sirius, throwing insults his way like grenades.
Just as he passed under the picture, there was a sudden noise that pierced the silence and made him jump, turning to see what it was. Harry relaxed, as he saw Mrs. Weasley bustling out a door, dusting everything in sight and humming to herself. When she spotted Harry, standing silently off on the other side of the hall, she said cheerily, "Dinner in an hour, dear."
"Ok, thanks," he whispered, glancing apprehensively towards the portrait.
"Now, why are you whispering dear, there's no need," said Mrs. Weasley, continuing to dust some old portraits, whose occupants spat at her in disgust. "Dumbledore had that old hag removed; we don't need to worry about disturbing her anymore."
"Oh, good," Harry said, looking back at the wall. "I'll be back down for dinner," he added, turning to head up the main stairs. As he trudged up the stairs, he thought of what Ron and Hermione would say about what he had just been told, since he would obviously confide in them everything whether the adults willed it or not. He guessed that Ron would probably look horrified and point out the obvious, but he really wanted to know what Hermione had to make of it. He was so excited to see them, that by the time he reached their old room's door, he could barely contain his excitement any longer. He smiled to himself as went to open the door, just as the door behind him opened and he heard a loud squeal as he was knocked headfirst into the wall.
"Ouch," he said, rubbing his now extremely sore head.
"Oh, I'm sorry Harry. I didn't mean for you to hit your head."
Harry turned around to see Hermione, smiling apologetically at him. She was dressed in blue jeans and a pink sweater, usually bushy hair tamed into nice wavy curls falling across her shoulders.
Harry grinned at one of his best friends as he said, "It's fine. I'm alright."
Hermione grinned back and threw herself on him, arms wrapped in a tight hug.
"We've all been so anxious to see you, Harry!" she said, still grinning as she released him. "We were so nervous once we heard that the Death Eaters had escaped. As soon as everyone heard the news, Lupin said that they had to go retrieve you. We tried to force the adults into letting us come too, but they wouldn't have it."
"Yeah, I heard. It's a good thing too," Harry said. Hermione's smile drooped a little, but Harry hastily continued, "Come on, I'll explain in here," as he opened the bedroom door and led Hermione through.