Twisted Fascination

Doing chores by hand wasn't unusual in the Dursley household. Listening to Dudley Dursley scream over the most minor inconveniences wasn't usual either. What was unusual was that I had to do so while also getting little to no sleep, as I had been forced to do my homework during the night.

The Dursleys hated magic above all else, and they had once again locked Harry's and my magic supplies in the cupboard under the stairs.

I was quite annoyed as I tried writing my essays from memory on medieval witch hunts and Shrinking Solutions.

One day though, when the Dursleys went out to admire Vernon's new company car with the loudest voices possible, Harry managed to pick the lock on the cupboard door, allowing both of us to grab a few textbooks, rolls of parchment, quills, and inkwells.

I was happy enough to do my essays at night, making sure to not spill any ink onto the bed sheets. My eagerness quickly died, however, when I had to stay up all day and night to get both my daily and homework done.

Of course, Harry was already in trouble with Vernon because he had given the phone number to Ron Weasley of all people, and Weasley knew nothing about common decency when it came to phones. After yelling into the receiver at Vernon, who had the misfortune of answering the phone, Weasley told Vernon that he was from Hogwarts and a friend of Harry's. Vernon basically screamed at Weasley to never call again, and he then went about yelling himself hoarse at both Harry and myself because Harry handed out the Dursleys family phone number to another young wizard.

The only upside was that Hedwig had the freedom to fly as she wanted, meaning she wasn't always hooting and getting Harry and I in trouble every other day.

For five weeks, Harry and I had no contact with the wizarding world, save for the Daily Prophet that I absolutely refused to give up, even when it came to exchanging blows with Vernon. We were both getting sick of it and wanted to go back to Hogwarts as soon as we could.

It was the middle of the night, and I was working on my Potions essay when Harry got up from his bed and padded toward the open window.

Harry suddenly gasped, causing me to set aside my essay and books in favor of looking toward him. He stepped aside, and two owls flew into the room while carrying a third. He immediately rushed over to the bed and untied the packages from the three owls.

Hedwig immediately went back to her cage, Errol (the Weasley family bird) had stayed keeled over on the bed, and the third owl ruffled its feathers before flying off.

I glanced at the time and decided that I would take the rest of the night off of my homework, if only to give myself the break I deserved for my birthday. I began to pack everything away as Harry shifted around the three parcels.

Harry opened the package from Errol first and was moved to tears by the birthday card he received, as well as the birthday present of a Pocket Sneakoscope. He then opened up the parcel from Hedwig and received another card and letter from Granger, along with a Broomstick Servicing Kit. He opened it and looked it over before grinning widely as he set it aside. He then moved onto the last one, revealing it to be from Hagrid. He began to open the package, only for it to quiver and make a snapping noise. Harry froze up, and I quickly narrowed my eyes at the moving thing. Once he did move, he poked the parcel causing it to snap once more.

I stood up from my bed and got prepared to deal with whatever monster Hagrid was stupid enough to send to Harry.

Harry grabbed the lamp from the bedside table before pulling back the last of the wrapping paper on the parcel.

A book that was green with golden writing fell out before suddenly flipped onto its edge and scuttled sideways like some demented crab toward my feet.

I kicked the book away from me, and it had the audacity to try and come back at me while snapping itself shut.

Vernon gave a very loud, sleepy grunt in the room next to ours, signaling that the book needed to be dealt with promptly.

Harry quickly got up and rushed to the dresser drawer we shared. He pulled out a belt as I seized the book from the ground. My brother rushed over and quickly put the belt around the book while I helped keep it closed. He buckled the belt around the book, and I put it down on Harry's bed as it struggled in its bindings. He picked up the card that came with the bloody book as I retrieved another belt for the Monster Book of Monsters.

I sat back down in my bed, and I accepted the letter that had apparently arrived from Hogwarts to myself. The envelope was thicker than usual, so I slit it open right away. The first piece of parchment was a letter that said that visits to Hogsmeade were permissible for third-years up, but only if a permission form was signed. I pulled out the form and frowned as I stared at where Vernon or Petunia were supposed to sign. I then pulled out the list of school books needed and looked them over.

Harry put all his birthday cards on his nightstand and smiled widely, clearly pleased to have received gifts for the first time in his life.

A small seed of jealousy planted itself in my mind before I quickly shoved those thoughts aside. I merely put my letter away with the rest of my hidden belongings and laid down in bed.

Harry ticked off another day on the calendar he had set up before laying down himself.

I tried to sleep, but I found that rest did not come peacefully. I had the same dream as usual - the screaming of a woman, a flash of green light, and a laugh that was far too cruel. I jolted up in bed before sighing softly as I began to calm down. I slipped out of the tangled sheets and got changed for the day. I then headed downstairs to start making eggs and toast for the Dursleys, Harry, and myself.

Petunia and Vernon soon came down, followed shortly by Dudley, who already was complaining about how hungry he was.

I put the breakfast on the table before heading out to get my newspaper. I returned to the table and saw that the new kitchen television (a welcome home for summer present for Dudley's disgustingly lazy self) was running a news segment about some escaped convict. I sat down in my usual seat and served myself a small meal. I began to eat the meager portion as I opened up my newspaper. I immediately paused as I saw the moving picture of an escaped convict that matched the same picture on the muggle television. I quickly read over the article about the man who escaped from Azkaban, a feat no one had ever accomplished before.

Supposedly, Sirius Black was a loyal follower to the Dark Lord before said Lord fell to the Boy-Who-Lived. He was noted as a spy, one that had been an Auror before revealing himself as a Death Eater. He had then killed a former friend of his along with twelve muggles before being captured by his former workmates. The Ministry asked that everyone keep their eyes out for Sirius Black, as it was likely that he intended on targeting his former master's killer.

I glanced toward the stairway, which was creaking as Harry came down. I quickly folded up my newspaper and finished my food, deciding that I'd look at the stocks and properly warn Harry about Black later. I didn't need the Dursleys to kick us out on the street because a murderous wizard was looking for Harry.

Harry sat down at the table and grabbed himself some toast.

"…The public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hotline has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately," the news anchor said.

"No need to tell us he's no good," Vernon snorted as he looked over the top of his newspaper at the television. "Look at the state of him, the filthy layabout! Look at his hair!"

The man's black hair was even more wild than Harry's, though that may have been because of all of the matted curls that went down to his elbows. He had a genuinely manic look in his gray eyes as he stared right at the camera with a gaunt face. His large grin didn't help matters, especially because it seemed more like a vicious bearing of his teeth more than a genuine smile.

The reporter reappeared and said, "The Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries will announce today-"

"Hang on!" Vernon roared as he stared furiously at the reporter, "You didn't tell us where that maniac's escaped from! What use is that?! Lunatic could be coming up the street right now!"

Petunia immediately whipped her head around and peered her head out of the window. She, being the nosiest woman in the entire neighborhood, would have loved calling the hotline and getting Black caught.

"When will they learn," Vernon demanded to know as he banged his hand on the kitchen table with his large purple fist, "That hanging's the only way to deal with these people?!"

"Very true," Petunia agreed, and I fought back the urge to snort at the thought of someone telling the wizarding world that hanging was the way to go.

Vernon drained his teacup, glanced at his watch, and added, "I'd better be off in a minute, Petunia. Marge's train gets here at ten."

Harry immediately paled as he looked at his uncle. "Aunt Marge? Sh-she's not coming here, is she?"

"Marge'll be here for a week," Vernon informed us with a snarl before pointing between the two of us, "And while we're on the subject, we need to get a few things straight before I go and get her."

Dudley smirked and looked over at us, clearly ready to be entertained by watching Vernon give the two of us Potters a tongue-lashing.

"Firstly," Vernon growled, "You'll keep a civil tongue in your head while talking to Marge."

"Alright," Harry replied irritably, "If she does when talking to me."

"Secondly," Vernon continued as if not hearing Harry's rather hold reply, "As Marge doesn't know anything about your abnormality, I don't want any - any funny stuff while she's here. You behave yourself, got me?" He then turned his full focus to me and growled, "You better get rid of those newspapers before she finds them, or so help me…" He let the threat of a severe beating unsaid, but heavily implied as he shook his fist. "And thirdly, we've told Marge that you attend St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys."

"What?!" Harry exclaimed in outrage.

"And you'll stick to that story, boys, or there'll be trouble," Vernon spat at us.

Harry, thank Merlin, kept his mouth shut because he was just that angry.

"Well, Petunia," Vernon said as he hauled himself to his feet, "I'll be off to the station, then. Want to come along for the ride, Dudders?"

"No," Dudley replied absentmindedly as he stared at the television once more.

"Duddy's got to make himself smart for his auntie," Petunia said as she smoothed down Dudley's thick, blonde hair. "Mummy's bought him a lovely new bowtie."

Vernon clapped his son on the shoulder. "See you in a bit, then." He left the kitchen behind, and Harry, who had been caught in a trance of sorts, suddenly snapped to his feet.

I watched Harry race off after Vernon and bit back a heavy sigh. I then looked to Petunia and asked, "Should I get out the dog towels in case Ripper gets a bath here again?"

Petunia, who always hated animals, wrinkled her nose up. "I told Vernon that better have been a one-time deal, and I mean it."

"Very well," I said as I stood up. "Regardless of that, should I fetch the dog bed she insisted on storing here?"

"Oh, God, yes," Petunia said as she got to her feet. "And the other rug, too."

"Right away," I said as I headed off to get the specific rugs and small bed Petunia had stashed away in the attic just for when Marge came.

Petunia may have hated Harry and I, but she absolutely abhorred Ripper with every fiber of her being. She couldn't stand to have any kind of animal in the house, hence why Dudley's turtle stayed in the greenhouse outback. She only put up with Ripper because that mongrel belonged to Marge, and Vernon absolutely loved his sister.

I quickly brought down the dog bed and rug, along with the set of sheets kept specifically for Marge. I was quick to change the bed, swap the rugs, and put down the dog bed. I then carried the good sheets and rug up to the attic to hide them away from Vernon. I came down from the attic and closed it, only to raise an eyebrow at how Harry was practically swaggering his way to our room. I quickly dismissed it, however, and returned to the kitchen. I helped Petunia clean up, keeping an eye on the clock as I did so.

Soon enough, Petunia was shrieking at Harry to come downstairs and get ready to welcome the guest. As soon as Harry stepped off the stairs, the woman snapped, "Do something about your hair!"

Harry didn't even bother to pay his hair down as he anxiously moved about the hall.

Too soon, there was a crunch of gravel outside as Vernon's car pulled back into the driveway. There was the clunk of two car doors, followed by the sound of footsteps on the garden path.

I quickly moved to the door and pulled it open, putting on my most charming expression despite knowing it wouldn't work as well on that tub of lard Vernon called his sister.

On the threshold stood Marge, a woman looked like Vernon down to the mustache, though I do admit hers wasn't as thick. In one hand was an enormous suitcase and under the other arm was an old and rather evil-looking bulldog.

"Where's my Dudders?!" Marge yelled loud enough to nearly deafen me, "Where's my neffy-poo?!"

Dudley came waddling down the hall, his blonde hair plastered to his head and a bowtie just barely visible under his exceedingly fat chin.

Marge thrust the suitcase into my stomach, nearly knocking the wind out of me, and gave Dudley a right one-armed hug. She planted a disgustingly large and wet kiss to her nephew's cheek before releasing the boy and giving him a crisp twenty-pound note for putting up with her.

"Petunia!" Marge shouted, striding past Harry and I like we were mere hat stands. The two women kissed each other's cheek as a greeting.

Vernon smiled jovially as he came in and shut the door behind him. "Tea, Marge? And what will Ripper take?"

"Ripper can have some tea out of my saucer," Marge replied as she walked into the kitchen, followed by her relatives.

I grabbed Harry and had him help me move the heavyweight suitcase up the stairs and into the guest bedroom. As we were walking, I muttered, "We need to have a serious talk tonight."

"Why?" Harry whispered back as we finally set down the suitcase.

"I don't want them knowing something that I didn't get to tell you before Marge got here," I muttered as I jerked my head down.

Harry nodded as we headed back downstairs and into the kitchen.

Marge had been served with tea and fruitcake by the time we had returned, and Ripper was lapping noisily in the corner.

Petunia winced slightly as tea and dog slobber flecked her previously clean floor.

"Who's looking after the other dogs, Marge?" Vernon asked.

"Oh, I've got Colonel Fubster managing them," Marge answered loudly, "He's retired now, good for him to have something to do. But I couldn't leave poor old Ripper. He pines if he's away from me."

Ripper growled as Harry and I cautiously sat down.

Marge turned her head toward us, finally acknowledging the two of us. "So! Still here, are you?!"

"Yes," Harry answered.

"Don't you say 'yes' in that ungrateful tone!" Marge barked, "It's damn good of Vernon and Petunia to keep you. Wouldn't have done it myself. You'd have gone straight to an orphanage if you had been dropped on my doorstep."

"We truly appreciate their generosity, don't we, Harry?" I asked as I looked at my brother.

He immediately forced a horrible facade of a smile.

"Don't you smirk at me!" Marge boomed, "I can see you haven't improved since I last saw you. I hoped school would knock some manners into you." She took a large gulp of tea, wiped her mustache, and asked, "Where is it that you send them, again, Vernon?"

"St. Brutus's," Vernon said promptly, "It's a first-rate institution for hopeless cases."

"I see," Marge said before snapping her head around to glare at my brother and I. "Do they use the cane at St. Brutus's, boy?"

Before Harry could blow this for both of us, I answered, "Yes, ma'am. All the time."

As Vernon looked relieved, Harry lost some of the tension in his shoulders.

"Excellent," Marge approved, "I won't have this namby-pamby, wishy-washy nonsense about not hitting people who deserve it. A good thrashing is what's needed in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred. Have you been beaten often?"

"Yes, ma'am," I confirmed for the two of us, "It stings quite a bit for days afterward, especially when sitting."

Marge nodded in approval. "Good school you go to then. What is it that you learn there?"

"The teachers there are very strict with their methods to try and get us to be decent members of society," I lied through my teeth, "Of course, we have the basics of a normal school plus manual labor chores every day to keep us occupied and out of trouble."

"Excellent!" Marge roared, "That's just what hopeless cases like you need!"

Vernon decided that was the perfect segue, and asked, "Speaking of hopeless cases, did you hear the news this morning, Marge? What about that escaped prisoner, eh?"

Marge accepted the change in topics, and the day went smoothly from there.

That night, Harry and I both waited up to around one in the morning before Marge finally fell asleep.

I made my way over to Harry's bed, quietly unrolling the newspaper to show him. "Harry, the escaped prisoner on the news this morning is from Azkaban."

"Azkaban?" Harry whispered in reply.

I almost rolled my eyes at him. "Wizard prison. It's supposed to be impossible to escape from."

Harry frowned deeply. "Then how-"

"Harry," I interrupted firmly,causing the boy to pause, "This man was a follower of the Dark Lord. The Ministry and media think he broke out to look for you."

Harry's face immediately fell. "Why?"

"You're the Boy-Who-Lived," I spelled out for him. "You're the one who basically killed his master, so he's finally managed to escape for revenge."

Harry looked horrified at that knowledge.

Before he could fly into a total panic, I rested my hand on his shoulder. "Harry, he hasn't shown up here yet. I really doubt that he knows we're here. Even if he does, both our world and the muggle world is keeping an eye out for him. As long as we keep our heads down, we'll be safe."

Harry swallowed thickly before nodding. Then, he asked, "We can't use magic to protect ourselves, so what happens if he does come?"

"Section 19 of the Restriction Against Underage Magic says that we can use magic in cases of emergencies. I'd say a mass murderer trying to kill you is grounds for the use of magic," I said, and Harry hesitantly nodded.

"You'll - you'll help me if he comes after me, right?" Harry asked meekly.

"I'll crush his knees if I have to," I said as I patted his shoulder gently.

Immediately, Harry grimaced. "I saw what you did to Lockhart's knee."

I gave a grin as I stood up from Harry's bed and moved back to my own. "He should be grateful it wasn't worse."

"You really hate him, huh?" Harry asked, causing me to nod in approval.

"He wronged me, just like how I explained to you on the first night we got back here," I said as I hid away my newspaper before lying down in bed.

Harry grimaced as he thought back to my rather lengthy tale. He quickly got comfortable though, pushing those thoughts out of his mind.

The two of us took the night off of homework, and we slept the rest of the night away.

I awoke early and for once felt rather well-rested. I was quick with my morning routine, retrieved and hid away my Daily Prophet, and then remained in the kitchen to make breakfast for the Dursleys and us Potters. As I was setting the table, the door to the guest bedroom opened.

Ripper came tearing down the stairs while barking loudly. He came to a stop in the kitchen and snarled at me.

I sneered down at the animal that thought itself superior to me.

Marge came lumbering down the stairs, Vernon right behind her, probably woken up by Ripper's obnoxious barking.

I quickly masked my annoyance with the dog and moved to continue setting the table.

Ripper barked loudly at me as it suddenly charged at me.

I was tempted to kick the dog, but I didn't have time to.

Marge whistled, and Ripper stopped his charge a mere foot away from me. "Come here, Ripper," Marge ordered, and her dog growled at me before trotting over to her side.

I quickly finished setting the table and began to serve the omelets I had made for breakfast.

"Do they also teach cooking at St. Brutus's?" Marge inquired.

"They do," I said, "It's so that we won't be leeches on other functioning society members."

"Good, good," Marge approved before glancing around. "Where is that deadbeat brother of yours?"

"Harry is still upstairs," I said honestly.

"Why isn't he down here helping you?" Marge asked with narrowed eyes.

"He hasn't learned how to properly keep eggs from sticking to the pans yet, and I wouldn't want your first breakfast here to be ruined by that," I lied smoothly.

Marge easily accepted that as a legitimate excuse.

"What tea would you like to go with your breakfast?" I asked as I watched Marge feed Ripper some of her omelet from her own fork. I felt disgusted as she then used that same fork to eat some of the eggs herself, but quickly masked it as she looked at me.

"Any tea is fine," she waved off dismissively.

I made a pot of tea that had a rather generic flavor so it wouldn't take away from the omelet. I then served the tea as Petunia, Dudley, and Harry came down the stairs. With breakfast officially served for everyone, I took my seat and ate my small portion of food. With the television on, the morning seemed to slip by without Marge and/or Ripper making my life more difficult than it had to be.

Marge was quick to make herself at home in the Dursley household. She always liked having an eye on Harry and I even though Petunia and Vernon tried to steer us clear of her. Marge would often boom suggestions for improval at my brother and I, and she delighted in comparing Dudley to us. She took huge pleasure in buying Dudley expensive presents while glaring at Harry and I, clearly daring us to ask why we hadn't received presents, too. She also kept throwing out dark hints about why Harry and I turned out so bad, most of which got Harry's blood boiling.

On the third day, our lunch was as civilized as always until the topic shifted to Harry and I.

"You mustn't blame yourself for the way the boys have turned out, Vernon," Marge told her brother, "If there's something rotten on the inside, there's nothing anyone can do about it."

Harry clenched his hands into fists underneath the table, and his face was beginning to turn red with anger.

Marge reached for her glass of wine and continued, "It's one of the basic rules of breeding. You see it all the time in dogs."

I reached under the table and grabbed Harry's hand. I held it just tight enough to make him look over at me. I stared him dead in the eyes for a moment as my grip on him tightened.

He grit his teeth as he forced himself to look back at his food.

I released his hand before turning my gaze back toward Marge.

"If there's something wrong with the bitch," she started, only for me to see the glass in her hands starting to crack.

I quickly shot up, causing everyone to stop and look at me. "Your wine glass is cracked. Please, allow me to fetch you another one."

Marge looked down at her glass, saw the many cracks, and quickly set it down. "It must be my firm grip again. The same thing happened at Colonel Fubster's the other day."

"Harry, bring that to the kitchen," Petunia demanded.

Harry took the cracked glass and brought it out to the kitchen, me right on his heels.

"In. Hold. Out. Focus," I muttered as I opened up the cabinet that held all the wine glasses. "In. Hold. Out. Focus."

Harry did as instructed, calming himself down as I got the wine glass and shut the cabinet. He dumped the wine down the drain and put the glass in the recycling bin.

I rested my hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently before going back to the dining room.

Harry silently followed after me, much more calm than he had been two minutes prior.

I gave Marge the new glass and sat back down in my seat, Harry doing the same.

The rest of lunch rolled by smoothly, and Harry and I soon went back to our room.

"Harry," I muttered as soon as I closed the door, causing the boy to look at me. "Every time she starts up on you, think of your broom kit and your Nimbus Two Thousand. Even she can't take the happiness of Quidditch away from you."

Harry thought about it for a moment before nodding.

It worked well for the next three days, and I always managed to keep Marge's focus away from the glazed look in Harry's eyes whenever she ran her useless mouth.

On the last night of Marge's stay, Petunia had me help cook up a fancy dinner while Vernon uncorked several bottles of wine. We managed to get all the way through the soup and salmon without a single mention of Harry's and my supposed faults. During lemon meringue pie, Vernon basically bored everyone to tears with a long talk on Grunnings, his drill-making company. After that, Petunia made coffee, and Vernon brought out the bottle of whiskey.

"Can I tempt you, Marge?" Vernon asked, knowing that his sister wouldn't turn down alcohol even if her life depended on it.

"Just a small one, then," Marge replied, already red-faced from how much wine she had drank. "A bit more than that… a bit more than that… that's the ticket."

Dudley was on his fourth slice of pie, Petunia was sipping her coffee with her little finger sticking out, and Vernon glared at Harry every time he shifted in his seat, clearly sensing that Harry wanted to disappear off to our shared bedroom.

"Aah." Marge smacked her lips and put the non-empty brandy glass down onto the table. "Excellent nosh, Petunia. It's normally just a fry-up for me of an evening, with twelve dogs to look after…" She burped richly and patted her great tweed stomach. "Pardon me. But I do like to see a healthy-sized boy." She gave Dudley a wink. "You'll be a proper-sized man, Dudders, just like your father. Yes, I'll have a spot more brandy, Vernon…"

The man poured her more whiskey, which she clearly didn't need.

"Now, these ones here-" She jerked her head toward Harry and I. "These ones got that mean, runty look about them. You get that with dogs. I had Colonel Fubster drown one last year. Ratty little thing it was. Weak. Underbred."

Harry's eyes began to glaze over, but not nearly enough to signal he was blocking out the woman.

"It all comes down to blood, as I was saying the other day," Marge continued, "Bad blood will out. Now, I'm saying nothing against your family, Petunia-" She patted Petunia's bony hand with her shovel-like one. "-But your sister was a bad egg. They turn up in the best of families. Then, she ran off with that wastrel, and here's the results right in front of us."

I grabbed Harry's wrist under the table, ready for the worst to come as my brother stared at the plate.

"This Potter," said Marge loudly, seizing the brandy bottle and splashing more into her glass and over the tablecloth, "You never told me what he did?"

Vernon and Petunia tensed up, and even Dudley looked up from his pie to gape at his parents.

Vernon spared us half a glance before stuttering out, "He - didn't work. Unemployed."

"As I expected!" Marge exclaimed, taking a huge swig of brandy and wiping her chin with her sleeve.

I grasped Harry's wrist tightly as it began to tremble.

Harry looked over at me, and the fury was visible in his eyes.

I stared back as I squeezed harder, a silent demand that he suffer through it for one more night.

"A no-account, good-for-nothing, lazy scrounger who died and left you poor souls with them!" Marge exclaimed.

Harry opened his mouth, and I released his hand, if only to pinch him harshly. The boy released a yelp of pain, causing everyone to look at him.

"Harry, is your stomach ache back?" I asked with fake concern.

Harry glared at me as he rubbed his arm as subtly as he could. He turned to Vernon and asked, "May I be excused? I need to go to the bathroom."

Vernon waved him off quickly. "Then, it's to bed with you."

Harry nodded wordlessly before stalking off.

I felt relief as I turned my focus back to the table, knowing I had just averted a major crisis.

"How did your parents die again?" Marge asked as she stared me in the eyes.

"They died in a car crash," I lied.

"Drunk, I expect," she said with a snort. "I can't believe they up and died, leaving you to be a burden on their decent, hardworking relatives."

I remained silent, not knowing the proper way to answer without coming off as snarky.

"Nothing to say for yourself?" Marge challenged me.

I contemplated my next words for just a moment before saying, "I believe that I am working the best I can at St. Brutus's to eventually not be a burden."

"But you are burdening them now, are you not?" She pressed.

"I suppose-"

"You suppose?" Marge interrupted as her tone turned from taunting to angry. "You're just as ungrateful as the other one!"

I opened my mouth to try and defend myself, but I never even got a word out.

"You're an insolent brat that should be taught some manners!" Marge declared loudly as she set her brandy glass down with such ferocity, the glass shattered.

I flinched away from the woman as she staggered to her feet. I threw a glance at Vernon, only to see he was already standing up and getting ready to interfere if need-be. I turned my gaze back to Marge, and saw her huffing angrily as she tried to push toward me. I got to my feet and stepped back just once.

Ripper suddenly charged from under the table and bit my left calf.

I barely managed to strangle my scream of pain as I turned my full gaze toward that damned dog. "Let go!" I demanded as the dog shook its head like I was some large chew-toy.

Petunia was screaming loudly as she pushed Dudley away from me, clearly worried about the safety of her son more than my leg.

"M-Marge! Call your dog off!" Vernon demanded.

The woman in question huffed loudly. "Why should I?! I'm just teaching that no-good boy a lesson!"

I tried to pull my leg away from Ripper, but he only sunk his teeth in more. I staggered as I was beginning to lose my footing from the ferocity of Ripper's head shaking. I grabbed at the wall to keep myself from falling before yelling, "Get your damn dog off me before I fucking kill it!"

"How dare you?!" Marge screamed back at me. She shoved Vernon aside hard enough to make him stumble before stomping my way like the drunken wench she was. "You absolutely disgusting deadbeat! I'll teach you!" She raised a fat hand, and I glared up at her face with nothing but contempt. She stilled for a long moment as she, too, glared down at me.

Realizing why she had paused, I spat out, "I dare you."

Marge brought her hand down, and it slammed across my face.

I took that as the go-ahead for my rebellion. I lowered my right shoulder before slamming said shoulder into her stomach. I watched her fumble backwards, and I cursed audibly as Ripper pulled on my leg again hard enough to rip a giant hole in my trousers.

Ripper pulled again, and this time, he had fallen over from just how hard he pulled.

I screamed in pain as I looked down at my leg, which was now missing a good chunk of flesh.

Ripper didn't hesitate to come back at me, clearly in a frenzy now that it had tasted blood. The dog was suddenly stopped, however, when the handle of a mop came down on its thick skull.

"Leave my brother alone!" Harry demanded as he hit the dog again, causing the thing to yelp in pain.

Marge charged at my twin and damn near ran into him. Thankfully, her inebriated brain had her go just to the left of Harry, and she hit the wall.

The bulldog barked loudly as it grabbed at the mop handle and tugged on it.

"Everyone, stop!" Vernon demanded as Marge struggled to her feet.

Ripper continued to attack the mop handle, and Harry continued to defend himself with said mop from the vicious little beast.

Petunia was still shrieking, though this time it was because she was staring at my heavily-bleeding leg.

"I SAID STOP!" Vernon screamed.

There was a loud bang on the front door, finally causing the majority of the commotion to cease.

Ripper abandoned the mop, though only so he could charge to the front door.

Said door opened suddenly with a slam, and Ripper gave aoud yelp before scampering back like it had seen Lord Death, itself.

Harry, who was closest to the hallway, dropped the mop as he stared in fear at what he saw.

I felt my stomach churn as I stared down the hall as well, my eyes seeing something that I had desperately wished wasn't real.

Sirius Black was standing in the doorway, looking as though he had just fought a pack of werewolves by himself and came out on top. Even though he looked roughed up, he still had that look of danger to him.

For a moment, no one moved a muscle.

Then, the escaped murderer began to approach us with an odd glint in his gray eyes.

Harry just stood there like some deer in headlights, allowing the man to approach him without any kind of defense.

"Move, dammit!" I barked loudly, snapping Harry out of his trance.

My brother scrambled away from the hallway and toward the kitchen. I quickly looked at Vernon, but he was already trying to get Marge up.

Petunia screamed again as she saw Black strolling down the hallway as if he owned the house. She pulled Dudley into the kitchen after Harry, all while yelling at Vernon to do the same.

"Ah, ah, ah," Black said as I staggered back from him, the mad look in his eyes growing stronger the closer he came.

Vernon basically began to drag his drunk sister from the room.

I watched as the man's eyes sparked, and I tried to stagger back some more, only to slip on my own blood. I fell to my ass and felt fear strike my heart as Black closed the distance between us in less than a second. I began to scoot backwards, but Black knelt down and grabbed my right ankle. A slew of curse words filled my mind as he leaned closer to me.

He looked down at my left leg, which had definitely seen much better days, before nodding once to himself. He released me and stood up before beginning to walk past me.

I blinked stupidly for a moment before quickly realizing that he was probably after Harry. I grabbed at his ankle, causing him to stop and look back at me. "You're killing my brother after you've killed me."

His brow furrowed a bit like he was confused before he suddenly gave a wide grin. "You know me."

"You're the escaped prisoner from Azkaban," I said right away.

He gave a gravelly chuckle before pulling his leg from my grasp. He then began to walk toward the kitchen.

I began to crawl after him, but he was walking too fast for me to keep up with at that pace. I gave a loud curse before forcing myself to my feet. I began to limp-walk after Black as fast as I could, only to see him walk into the backyard and turn toward the gate to the back yard. I staggered after him, losing sight of him when he made it into the blindspot caused by the door frame. I quickly followed him out to the kitchen door, only to see that he had already disappeared through the gate. I felt my heart churn as I moved as fast as I could to the gate and out of it. I didn't see him around the side of the house, and I worried that Black was already at my brother's side. As I made it around the side of the house and to the front, I saw that Vernon had everyone piled into the car as if that would somehow save them from any kind of murderer.

"Get over here! Hurry!" Vernon yelled out of his window.

I limped as fast as I could to the car and was pulled inside by Harry.

Vernon pulled out of the driveway and was down the street before any of us could utter a word.

I only had one thought as I looked back at 4 Privet Drive through the rear window. Why the hell did he let us live?