Part III
For Disclaimers and notes, see Part 1. Additional dedication to Brad, for his brilliantly detailed reviews!
When Harry awoke the next morning, the bombing of the Muggle bookstore still weighed heavily on his mind. For some reason it seemed particularly ominous, but he couldn't pinpoint a reason. As he lay in bed trying to work it out, his aunt's shout abruptly tore him from his reverie.
"HARRY! Get down here this instant. There's someone to see you," she called in tones that were somewhere between indignant and terrified.
Harry grabbed his wand and held it at the ready as he approached the stairs. Could a Death Eater have penetrated the defenses of Privet Drive? Who else would possibly come to see him? Maybe someone had bad news for him and wanted to deliver it in person. Just as his imagination was working up all sorts of horrid scenarios involving Hermione, Ron, Professor Dumbledore, or one of his other teachers, he turned the corner of the stairs and saw Hagrid framed in the doorway.
He allowed his guard to drop a bit, but realized that it could still be an imposter, so he racked his brain for a confirmation question, "Hagrid! Is that you?"
"O' course it's me, Harry! I came ter see if you'd like teh go ter tea with me an' an ol' friend o' mine," Hagrid said cheerfully.
"That sounds nice, Hagrid, but I don't think I'm supposed to leave the house," Harry said carefully.
"Professor Dumbledore said it'd be alrigh' as long as I was with yeh, and I think yeh could stand the chance ter stretch yer legs a bit," Hagrid observed keenly.
"Well, yeah," Harry agreed, still slightly suspicious. "Say Hagrid, what was the name of that pet you had during my first year that caused us so many problems?"
"Do yeh mean Norbert or Fluffy, Harry? If I remember righ' you weren't so fond o' either of 'em." Hagrid grinned, and Harry finally believed that it was really his friend rather than a Death Eater using Polyjuice Potion.
"Okay then. May I go with him, Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked, as politely as he could manage. Aunt Petunia merely nodded mutely. Harry could tell that she was mortified at having such a freak on her front porch and he suspected that she was also remembering her last encounter with Harry's overgrown friend. Still, Hagrid cut an imposing enough figure that Harry couldn't really imagine his meek aunt trying to stand up to him.
Gleeful at the prospect of escaping his dull suburban prison - even if only for an hour - Harry had a hard time containing himself as he followed Hagrid down the street. Hagrid's cautiously watchful attitude subdued him a little, but he still couldn't keep from hissing, "Where are we going?" under his breath.
"Mrs. Figg's house, o' course," Hagrid said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Her an' me go way back - I was in school with her brother. Their family was always nice to me, even after I'd been chucked ou'. I think they understood, havin' a Squib in the family. But no more talking 'til we get there, Harry," Hagrid finally remembered to admonish him when they were but a few steps away from Mrs. Figg's familiar home.
The door flew open to reveal Harry's steel-haired former babysitter, still in her house-slippers. "Well get in here, then," she said briskly, " I still think this was a foolish risk Hagrid." Arabella Figg clucked about and locked the door behind Harry with an energetic twist.
"Aw, there's no harm done, Bella," Hagrid cajoled, "Good fer Harry to get a bit o' fresh air now'n again. An' it's better he does it with me than tearin' off on his own."
Mrs. Figg sniffled as she poured tea into her best teacups. Harry, however, was thrilled at the chance to talk to his friend, "What's new Hagrid? Why'd you want me to come here with you?"
Mrs. Figg answered for him, "Your Miss Granger reported that your relatives were making things unpleasant for you, so Dumbledore thought a temporary extraction was in order, just to make them remember their promises."
Harry nodded, finding this explanation completely plausible, but then Hagrid broke in, "Yeah, an' also, Hermione says you won' talk to her 'bout Sirius, an' I just wanted to say you really should talk abou' it, Harry. Maybe it's silly o' me to think you'd talk ter Hagrid when you won't talk to your own best friend, but…"
"Honestly, Hagrid, do you really expect the boy to talk to you when he won't talk to his girlfriend?" Mrs. Figg tutted at Hagrid as if he were Harry's age.
"O' course not! An' she's not his girlfrien', neither - is she Harry?" Hagrid asked curiously. Harry looked at Hagrid as if he'd suddenly sprouted a second head. Surely, out of all his adult friends, Hagrid should know the reality of his relationship with Hermione. Harry's incredulity must have made itself apparent, because Hagrid finished lamely with, "Nah, I didn' think so," and then lapsed into silence.
Desperate to change the subject, Harry blurted, "I read about some Death Eaters bombing a Muggle book store in London. Why d'you think they'd bother?"
Hagrid and Mrs. Figg exchanged a look that only enhanced the tension that had been building in Harry's stomach since he'd first read about the incident. Mrs. Figg spoke up finally, in what was probably meant to be a calming voice, "Well, Harry dear, it could have been random Muggle torture, but Kingsley is worried because it's fairly close to the Grangers' dental practice and Hermione's father sometimes shops there."
Harry's insides suddenly felt as though a dementor had entered the room. He actually glanced behind his comfortable chair while stumbling over his response - there was no one there. "I…do you…I mean…does he…does he think…was that on purpose?…Were they…y'know…trying to…"
"Don't worry, Harry," Mrs. Figg said in a soothing tone. "Kingsley is a brilliant Auror and even flighty little Miss Nymphadora packs quite a spell. They'd never let anything happen to your…friend or her parents."
Harry suppressed a grin, mostly at the thought of what Tonks would do if she heard herself called "little Miss Nymphadora."
"Well, I know they're careful and all, but Hermione said she's beginning to run out of excuses for why she can't go out to dinner or something with her parents! What if she can't-" Harry worried until Hagrid cut him off.
"Harry, have yeh ever met a witch - or a wizard - smarter 'n Hermione?" Harry shook his head, still looking apprehensive. Mrs. Figg smiled encouragingly and began to fill a teacup as Hagrid continued, "Well, then, I reckon, you oughter trust her creativity. It's not like she can tell her paren's abou' You-Know-Who now is it? They'd spend all summer worryin' abou' her an' they migh' not ev'n let her go back to Hogwarts in the fall"
Harry scowled; he didn't like imagining Hogwarts without Hermione. Mrs. Figg may have sensed this, because she broke into Hagrid's litany of rhetorical questions with, "Harry, would you like some cream in your tea?" and a grandmotherly smile.
"Oh, um…sure," he said, grateful for the interruption.
Hagrid hardly noticed their asides as his train of thought chugged steadily onward, "Yeah, yeh wouldn' like it if'n the Grangers found ou' how much danger our Hermione's been in at school. They migh' jus' pull her righ' out of Hogwarts like your gran'parents did with your aunt."
It took the sound of a shattering china teacup on a beautiful wooden floor for Hagrid to realize his faux pas, but Harry's ears had perked up at "your gran'parents" and a million questions were wrestling for his attention the moment "aunt" escaped his friend's giant lips.
"My Aunt?!?" cried Harry. "What are you talking about, Hagrid? Aunt Petunia never went to Hogwarts… did she?"
Mrs. Figg threw Hagrid a furious look as she swept up the pieces of her shattered cup. "Now you've done it. The Kneazle's out of the bag and Dumbledore'll have your hide." She looked at him expectantly, but he just looked confused so she plowed ahead, "You might as well tell him. You can't have him going home to interrogate the relatives now can you? Of course not. It could invalidate the magical bond that protects the boy and bring the Death Eaters down on all of us and then where would we be?"
It had been nearly five years since the first time one of Hagrid's pronouncements had turned Harry's world upside-down. This one was scarcely less shocking. He sighed and began, "Well, Mrs. Figg is right tha' I'll be in trouble fer tellin' yeh this. But I s'pose yeh'da found ou' somehow anyway. Yer always stickin' yer nose in." Mrs. Figg gave him an obvious 'quit stalling' look, so he continued, "Yer aun' is two years younger'n yer Mum, Harry. When she was eleven, she got a letter invitin' her to go off to Hogwarts, same's yer mum had"
"But… I thought my grandparents were Muggles," Harry wondered confusedly.
"They were," Mrs. Figg assured him, "But that happens sometimes. Don't you have some young friends where there are two Muggle-born wizard boys in a family?"
Harry nodded and Hagrid chuckled, "Yeah, them Creevey boys'll try'n be the next Fred n' George if'n I give 'em a chance. But er… yeah. Yer aunt wen' to Hogwarts for three years. She was showin' signs of great talent. Then You-Know-Who started targetin' Muggle-born wizards and their families in particular, so Dumbledore sent a letter to the paren's of each studen' he had who fit that category. Mos'ly it jus' warned 'em about safety precautions they should follow durin' the summer an' such. But yer Granma an' Granpa Evans got hyper-protective. They refused ter let either of their girls go back to Hogwarts. Petunia obeyed meekly. Lily though," Hagrid grinned at the memory, "Yer mum didn' take that lyin' down, no sir. She told her paren's that she'd just earned top marks on her O.W.L.s and she'd be darned if she were goin' to drop out of school an' live like a Muggle after all that trouble. They had a big yellin' match an' yer gran'paren's ended by disownin' yer mum." Harry gasped and Mrs. Figg looked grim. Hagrid continued reliving the bittersweet time, "She moved in with one of her closes' school frien's an' her family - Dorcas Meadowes."
Harry felt overwhelmed at this burst of information, "But what about Aunt Petunia? She just… dropped out of school?"
Hagrid nodded sadly, "Yep. Far as I can tell, she passed as a Muggle from then on. She wen' ter a Muggle school an' finished up quick as she could."
Mrs. Figg looked at him primly. "She then started working as a book keeper at your uncle's company right out of secondary school. Your Uncle Vernon was her boss and she moved into his house when they got married. It was a bit scandalous when she gave birth to an infant that looked full term only six months later. The neighborhood tongues were still wagging about that when I moved in here shortly after your parents died."
Harry shook his head, as if to relieve it of cobwebs. "I just… I can't picture Aunt Petunia as a witch. She's just so… normal. I can't wait to ask her-"
"NO!" cried both Hagrid and Mrs. Figg together.
"You canna mention a word of this to her, Harry!" Hagrid said seriously. "The on'y reason I wen' ahead and told yeh what I knew is tha' I knew yeh wouldn' sleep with it bein' a mystery an' all. But Dumbledore promised her when she agreed ter take yeh in that yeh'd never find ou' the truth abou' her past. If yeh tell her yeh know… jus' don', all righ' Harry?"
"It's crucial that you understand this, dear," Mrs. Figg added emphatically. "Your aunt got upset once when your cousin was very young and mistakenly turned his rattle into a rattlesnake. The Accidental Magic Reversal Department had to go out and fix him up before your uncle got home."
Harry wondered fleetingly if that's what Dudley had seen when the dementors came so close to them the previous summer. "You mean Uncle Vernon doesn't know about all of this?" Harry asked amazedly.
"He has no idea. It's bad enough fer him ter have weird relatives, but I don' think he could deal with knowin' his wife's a witch too, extreme Muggle tha' he is," Hagrid added ruefully.
Harry took a deep breath. "Okay, so you're telling me that my aunt is a witch by nature but she's been pretending to be a Muggle since she was thirteen? Yet, I'm not allowed to talk to her about this because my uncle doesn't know and they might kick me out of the family so I wouldn't be protected from Voldemort anymore?" Harry recapped, still feeling dazed. Hagrid recoiled at the sound of Voldemort's name, but Mrs. Figg just nodded sympathetically and passed him a freshly poured cup of tea. "All right. I suppose I can keep my mouth shut about her <I>abnormality</I> as long as she's nice to me." Mrs. Figg gave him a pointed look, so he amended his condition, "Well, civil anyway."
Mrs. Figg sighed, "I know it's been hard for you to grow up with them, but just think how hard it must be for your aunt to live in constant fear that her husband will discover her secret and chuck her out of the house."
Harry found it difficult to muster much sympathy for the woman who'd allowed his childhood to be completely miserable, but he merely grimaced. "Yeah, I guess. So… did my mum ever see my grandparents again after they disowned her? Where are they now?"
Hagrid and Mrs. Figg exchanged the sad look again, so Harry knew that more bad news must be on the way. Hagrid finally spoke up, "Well, yeh know that You-Know-Who was out ter get yeh and yer paren's when you was a baby, Harry. They wen' inter hidin' an' if it weren' for that snivlin' little rat they woulda been fine. The Death Eaters didn' like failin', though, so they tended ter torture anyone they though' migh' know where they'd taken yeh. Remus an' even Professor McGonagall got roughed up a time er two. Dorcas's whole family was killed 'cause they'd taken yer mum in an' someone thought she'd of chosen one of 'em as Secret-Keeper."
Mrs. Figg sighed deeply and took up the tale in anguished tones, "About a month before the tragic night when your parents were killed, Bellatrix Lestrange and her band of miscreants managed to track down your mother's parents. They tortured them for information about Lily's whereabouts, but they honestly knew nothing because they had cut off all contact with your parents. They sent a letter with a gift after your birth announcement saying that they never wanted to hear from Lily again. That broke your mother's heart, and then when she heard that her parents were tortured to death by the foul beings who were after you…" she shook her head sadly.
Harry choked back a sob for the grandparents he'd never known. Maybe they hadn't been the most loving of parents to his mother, but they had only wanted to keep their daughters safe. "Does… does Aunt Petunia know that?"
Mrs. Figg nodded shortly. "Yes, I'm afraid that's part of the reason she's always been so cruel to you, Harry. She knows, deep down, that she might have been able to protect her parents if she'd defied them like Lily did and stayed to become a full-fledged witch. Or if Lily had done as she did and quit going to Hogwarts, Lord Voldemort would have left all of them alone. Her guilt and anger… she blames the world you were born into for her parents' death, so that manifests itself in cruelty to you."
The three of them continued to talk about the Order of the Phoenix and other Wizarding issues, but the visit and tea had hardly been the salve to Harry's soul that Hagrid had hoped for. They spent much of their time convincing Harry how important it was to keep his newly learned information to himself. He could talk to Hermione about it, of course, but Hagrid and Mrs. Figg both impressed on him the urgency of keeping his knowledge from the Dursleys.
Before Hagrid took him back to his immaculate prison, Mrs. Figg reminded him of one last issue pointedly, "Didn't his friend Miss Granger mention that Harry hadn't been sleeping well and that he'd been having odd dreams again?"
"Oh yeah, I nearly fergot, Harry!" Hagrid replied genially, "Hermione says yer still havin' funny dreams, an' since no one can teach yeh Occlumency while yer at Privet Drive, I had Professor Snape mix up a batch of concentrated potion for dreamless sleep." Hagrid must have correctly interpreted Harry's incredulity, because he hastened to add, "I know yeh don' think much o' Professor Snape righ' now, Harry, but he is tryin' ter help. I even tested the potion on meself las' nigh' ter make sure it's safe for yeh."
Harry grinned in spite of himself and reached for the flask Hagrid had produced from one of his many pockets. As he examined the murky green liquid he asked, "How am I supposed to use this?"
"Jus' take a spoonful 'afore yeh turn in fer the nigh' an' yeh'll sleep like a baby 'til mornin'" Hagrid promised. Harry nodded and allowed himself to be escorted back to number four, even though he wasn't exactly eager to see his relatives again since he now understood them better but was forbidden to discuss any real issues with them.
Aunt Petunia simply ignored him for the rest of the day and Dudley spent most of the time holed up in his room on the phone - whether to Ludmilla or Jessamyn - Harry neither knew nor cared. Harry avoided his aunt so that he wouldn't feel tempted to question her about her secret life. Instead, he listlessly attempted his History of Magic essay. He knew it was probably pointless since the only O.W.L. he'd done worse on than History of Magic was Divination, but it helped give him something to do to occupy his time until he could call Hermione and unburden his mind.
When he finally thought it was late enough to call and heard her breathless, "Hello?" his story spilled out of him like a pumpkin juice cask that'd hit the counter of the Three Broomsticks too hard. He hardly paused for breath during his overflow of personal history and his currently confused feelings toward his relatives. He, too, felt guilty about his grandparents' deaths. He couldn't decide whether he was more angry at or sorry for his aunt, and his bitterness toward his uncle had reached an all-time high.
Hermione listened patiently for hours, encouraging and comforting in turn. As Harry finally began to feel that his fervor on the topic had spent itself, a nagging question occurred to him, "I just don't get why Aunt Petunia would have fallen for Uncle Vernon. I mean… he's a lump. He can't ever have been attractive."
"Well, girls go for Dudley, don't they?" Hermione reasoned, "And your aunt probably had ample reason for wanting to find affection."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
"Well, she was pretty young when she left Hogwarts, but I'd imagine that she had a tough time of it with her parents afterwards," Hermione speculated, "They'd have been told that a partially-trained witch couldn't fully control her magic. They were probably a little scared of her, and I'm sure she knew it."
"That's a good point," admitted Harry, "She probably also reminded them of my mother and her defiance. They, um, didn't like her much after she left home after all."
"Yeah, I'm sure your Aunt reminded them of Lily constantly, and she probably even missed her older sister," Hermione agreed, "So between that and her constant vigilance on avoiding using magic, she was probably really lonely in Muggle school. Then, the first time a man looked interested in her - even if it was a slug like your uncle - she leapt at him and ended up pregnant with Dudley so she had to marry him. Ever since then she's had to live an imaginary ideal life, knowing that her husband would hate her if he knew the truth. She probably has a large dose of self-loathing too. It's really rather tragic when you think about it."
"Yeah, you're right," said Harry, although pity for his aunt was a new sensation. "Her life would have been much different if she'd run into someone a little more open-minded when she was young and vulnerable."
"Yes, she could have gone back to school as an adult or at least come to terms with that part of her life and herself," Hermione supposed, "She probably would have had more children and they might have been magical, so she could have explored that through them. She'd like herself better at any rate."
"It's weird to think about her having more children to lavish attention and sickly nicknames on," Harry mused.
"Oh, I doubt she'd be nearly so overbearing if she had more children and wasn't trying so hard to be perfect so your uncle wouldn't suspect her," replied Hermione, "I'm sure she avoided having more children for fear that they would be magical - and because she wasn't really eager to create them with your uncle once she'd already secured a 'normal' life with him."
"Oh, gross!" cried Harry, "Please don't make me think about my aunt and uncle being intimate. It's nearly as bad as thinking about Snape that way," he moaned, but then stiffened to hear footsteps approaching. He feared that his aunt or uncle was going to discover him, but a slightly muffled voice over the phone told him that they were actually on her end of the line.
"Hermione Jane Granger! What are you doing on the phone at this hour of the night?!? It's three-thirty in the morning; don't you know you should be asleep? Honestly, child I would never have been allowed to be awake this late when I was your age! I knew giving you that phone would turn out to be a mistake, but your father insisted," Anne Granger's rant was crystal clear, even though she was apparently across the room from Hermione's receiver.
"I've got to go," Hermione whispered urgently.
And without any more fanfare, Harry was left listening to a dial tone. He snuck back downstairs to put the cordless phone away in the washroom. He wondered how much trouble Hermione was going to be in due to him and whether or not their nightly phone calls had come to an end. He hoped not. He was too keyed up to sleep, so he took a dose of the sleeping potion against his better judgment.
[Author's Note: The World Book Day chat reinforced JK's confusion with numbers/ ages/ chronology (in the question about the Weasley brothers' relative ages). I'm using that to justify my decision to make Petunia younger than Lily, even though most people assume it was the other way around. She also muddied up the waters about Petunia in the Edinburgh Book Festival's Question and Answer session when she said that, "No, she is not a Squib. She is a Muggle, but-[Laughter]. You will have to read the other books. You might have got the impression that there is a little bit more to Aunt Petunia than meets the eye, and you will find out what it is. She is not a squib, although that is a very good guess. Oh, I am giving a lot away here. I am being shockingly indiscreet." So, it doesn't seem like she's just your run of the mill Muggle either. I had this theory about Petunia also being a Witch, and I think it is good dramatic bang, even though it contradicts what JKR had in store for us. This is AU anyway, so I'm going to use what I think works dramatically.]