Letters to No One
The vision spun away again before Severs had a chance to do something about the anger simmering in his chest. Not that there was anything he could really do while stuck in a memory of the past. He found himself standing next to the writing desk again. This time standing just over Figg’s shoulder, looking down at a letter she was composing.
She looked much younger in this memory, her hair just starting to gray and her arm still bound in a sling. He suspected it was just after she had been released from Saint Mungos.
He knew this memory must have some form of meaning, so he leaned closer to observe as she wrote.
Dear Albus,
Thank you for your assistance with the arrangements for Ernest's funeral. It was heartening to see so many order members there to support me and share stories about my beloved husband. I only wish he would’ve been able to see the end of this war. He cared so much for you all, and I wish he could have heard the stories our friend shared and seen how many lives his potions saved. Unfortunately, like many others, he will never get to see the good things that are to come that we all fought so hard to achieve.
As for my new mission, I have finished moving into the new safe house and have made my first contact with Lily’s sister. The woman is not what I would have expected from a relative of our sweet Lily, but I guess we all grieve in different ways…
This time when the scene changed, Severus only noticed the letters on the page blurring and a slight change in the lighting outside the window.
Dear Albus,
I just got back from talking with Petunia and her husband. I am confused, as they seem to be under the false impression that Harry was just left on their doorstep one morning without a word. But we both know that can’t be right. Surely Wizarding Family Services would have talked to them in person before determining that this was a good home for Harry Potter? The media has been going wild with story after story, singing the child’s praises. They wouldn’t dare risk a scandal of that magnitude by neglecting his care. I think the order should check into it, just in case. Make sure that no lingering Death Eaters are scheming.
The stream of letters in her memory began to fly by even faster. To the point where he barely noticed the intervals between, but still had the feeling of many years passing and much left out in between.
Dear Albus,
I know you said the Fadelidus charm was necessary for Harry’s safety, but what if there is an emergency? Owling you may not be the fastest way to get help in dire circumstances. There are still so many Death Eaters roaming free, we need a better option.
Another thing that has me concerned is Vernon Dursley. The man is widely known around the neighborhood for having a volatile temper, and the way he speaks about Harry is making me worry if we should contact W.F.S. Shouldn’t they have checked in with the family by now? I’ve done some research on their policies and their protocols state that with a new child placed outside the wizarding world, the W.S.F. will make bi-monthly check-ins for at least the first year. I haven’t seen anybody yet and it’s making me worry.
Albus,
What do you mean W.S.F. can’t know where Harry is?! It is legally required that all magical children placed in a new home, have to go through the proper channels for their SAFETY! I am worried about him, Albus. I saw bruises on his wrists yesterday. HE IS ONLY TWO YEARS OLD!
The letters began to get more clipped as her anger grew. The letters were coming so fast now that they were making his head spin to the point that he was starting to feel nauseated. Or was that from the words themselves?
Albus,
I don’t CARE how many times you tell me chores are a common activity for Muggle children! Mowing the yard is not an appropriate task for a THREE-YEAR-OLD!!!
Albus,
I know you think these blood wards are the safest place for Harry, but things are just getting worse. I swear I saw the impression of a BELT BUCKLE on his shoulder today!
Finally, the torrent of letters began to slow, and he found himself a step back from Figg, who was tearfully writing another letter. She was obviously upset as she tried to explain how the Dursleys had won a family vacation to Paris for up to five people but had chosen to take Dudley's closest “friends” and leave their own nephew behind, alone for two whole weeks.
She had paused in her writing in favor of watching the boy question across the street. The sun outside was so hot that even from this short distance, Severus could see the heat waves rising from the pavement. The small child was sweating, out in the hot sun weeding the garden, even though his “guardians” were countries away.
Furiously, she crumpled and threw the letter in the bin. She angrily took out a fresh sheet of parchment and started penning a new letter to the headmaster instead of another futile attempt to call for rescue for the poor child. As he watched, she began the tail that led him here today.
Dear Albus,
I regret to inform you that I have suddenly fallen ill. I went to Diagon Alley to meet some old friends of mine and must have caught a strain of the Dragon Pox while traversing the overly crowded streets. It has been developing quite rapidly, and I am now bedridden.
At my age, I worry that I will not recover very quickly. It is probably best that you start searching for another Order Member to replace me for the duration of my condition…
Severus felt his lips twitch minutely in the barest hint of a smile, as he pulled himself out of the old woman’s mind. Yes. He suspected Albus would be quite perturbed at the thought of having to bring in another Order Member on his dark secret. Especially, one is likely to have more ties to active Order Members and the ability to drop enough hints to alert others to the child’s distress. Of course, the man had bent over backward to get Severus to fix the problem for him. Just as Arabella Figg had hoped.
As he took a moment to organize his mind, separating it from the intrusive memories he had perused, he watched Arabella sit heavily down on the atrociously floral couch. The old woman was breathing heavily and pale from the added strain of such an intrusive spell. But the heat of his ire was so strong that he barely spared the time to pass her a Pepper-Up potion before marching from the house and across the street.