Tragedy avoided

Fleur took the book from Viktor as she announced, “I shall read next.”

Harri was moved over to sit between Charlie and Cedric and sighed as she braced herself for whatever may come. She typically sat between both boys during the beginning of each book when the chapter was going to reveal how awful her relatives treated her. She wondered how much lower they could possibly sink, glad she would never actually experience any of this.

By the time Harri arrived in the kitchen, the three Dursleys were already seated around the table. None of them looked up as she entered or sat down.

“Sounds right,” Harri muttered bitterly. The longer she was in this room, the greater her anger grew at her relatives’ treatment of her. She remembered how Molly greeted her each morning during her stay at the Burrow and felt bitter. She should have had that growing up. She would have that soon. She doubted she would ever come down for breakfast and be met with silence and disinterest again after she left this room.

Dudley looked furious and sulky, and somehow seemed to be taking up even more space than usual. This was saying something, as he always took up an entire side of the square table by himself.

Dudley looked down at his shoes as his weight was mentioned again and snickers filled the room. Was he really that big? Whenever his weight was spoken about in the books, and everyone laughed or looked over at him in disgust, he was reminded of what Harri must have felt like living with them. He could not imagine constantly feeling this way for all those years. How had Harri dealt with this, much less lived with it?

When Aunt Petunia put a quarter of unsweetened grapefruit onto Dudley’s plate with a tremulous “There you are, Diddy darling,” Dudley glowered at her.

“Diddy darling,” Fred sang dramatically, “that’s no way to treat your mother dearest.”

“Though I suppose with an ill-bred beast of a mother like yours, we can overlook it,” George added with a sigh full of fake understanding.

Harri couldn’t stop her mouth from twitching up into a smile at their antics.

 His life had taken a most unpleasant turn since he had come home for the summer with his end-of-year report.

“Good,” Ginny spat, her arms crossed. “Whatever it is, I’m sure the pig deserves it.”

Dudley flinched at the hostility in the young girl’s voice. He was sure he deserved it, too, for how he had treated Harri and others in general.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had managed to find excuses for his bad marks as usual: Aunt Petunia always insisted that Dudley was a very gifted boy whose teachers didn’t understand him, while Uncle Vernon maintained that “he didn’t want some swotty little nancy boy for a son anyway.”

“What a stellar way to parent,” Charlie said sarcastically next to Harri. His mother would have had their hides for bad marks. He knew she was itching to get at the twins for their lack of O.W.L.s, but he personally thought there was more to that than the twins were saying. He didn’t believe for a second the twins couldn’t have gotten several O.W.L.s each. He had seen what they hid behind their bedroom door. And had several conversations with both of them about the properties of magical creatures and their parts. He knew behind all their jokes his brothers were geniuses in their own right.

They also skated over the accusations of bullying in the report - “He’s a boisterous little boy, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly!” Aunt Petunia had said tearfully.

Several of the students snorted at that. They had heard enough about Dudley to know Petunia was delusional.

Petunia sucked on her teeth. The books were spreading lies about her son. Dudley would never!

However, at the bottom of the report there were a few well-chosen comments from the school nurse that not even Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia could explain away. No matter how much Aunt Petunia wailed that Dudley was big-boned, and that his poundage was really puppy fat, and that he was a growing boy who needed plenty of food, the fact remained that the school outfitters didn’t stock knickerbockers big enough for him anymore.

Dudley flushed as the room erupted into laughter once more at his expense. Had he really gotten so big that regular clothes would not fit him? Since coming to this room, he had lost some weight because the room would only give him and his family small portions of food that all tasted bland at best.

Pomfrey bit her tongue, disgusted the muggles had allowed their child to get so big.

“I know you didn’t deserve the way they treated you,” Cedric said softly next to her, “But you got the better deal out of it because that’s not parenting, no matter how you look at it.”

“No,” Harri agreed just as softly as her eyes found her cousin, “It’s not.”

Harri smashed down the tiny bit of pity she felt for Dudley. He didn’t deserve her pity. As far as she was concerned, Dudley had made his choices, even if his parents had a large part in who Dudley had become. If she could be kind despite living with the Dursley, so could Dudley. Harri tried hard to hold onto that logic as her thoughts whispered, “What if Dudley had been raised in a home like the Burrow? Would he have grown up to be so messed up? He was changing, wasn’t he? What if he had been given a chance to be better instead of being influenced so heavily by his parents?”

The diet sheet that had been sent by the Smeltings school nurse had been taped to the fridge, which had been emptied of all Dudley’s favourite things - fizzy drinks and cakes, chocolate bars and burgers and filled instead with fruit and vegetables and the sorts of things that Uncle Vernon called “rabbit food.”

Dudley scrunched his face up; none of that sounded appetizing, but he supposed it had to taste better than what he had been given in this room. He would gladly take anything that had flavour at this point.

To make Dudley feel better about it all, Aunt Petunia had insisted that the whole family follow the diet too. She now passed a grapefruit quarter to Harri.

“She’s already underweight,” Pomfrey exploded, eyes sharp. “She’s an active young lady. Do you know the damage you could have done to her? You already didn’t feed her enough, and you were going to cut that amount of food down even further with a diet she didn’t need!”

“She should be grateful we feed her at all,” Vernon snapped in their defence, even if he was unhappy to learn he would be forced to eat rabbit food in the near future.

Charlie sent a silencing charm his way without missing a beat. Harri didn’t need to hear anything that foul excuse of a person had to say.

She noticed that it was a lot smaller than Dudley’s. Aunt Petunia seemed to think that the best way to keep up Dudley’s morale was to make sure that he did, at least, get more to eat than Harri.

Charlie and Cedric shook with fury next to her as Molly covered her mouth in horror.

Harri sighed in defeat as she summoned a knut into her open hand as she watched those who loved her ready to rise to her defence and let their anger on her behalf be known.

“Relax, guys, it hasn’t happened yet,” Harri expressed gently as she tossed the knut to Fred, who didn’t look too happy.

“And it never will,” Fred said firmly as he added the first knut to the pool they had made before they started this book.

“No, it won’t,” Sirius agreed through clenched teeth as guilt slammed into him. This is what Harri would have been subjected to because he had chosen to go after Peter. He had done everything wrong, and Harri paid the price and would have continued to pay for it.

But Aunt Petunia didn’t know what was hidden under the loose floorboard upstairs. She had no idea that Harri was not following the diet at all.

Fred and George sent Harri wide grins liking where this was going.

The moment she had got wind of the fact that she was expected to survive the summer on carrot sticks, Harri had sent Hedwig to her friends with pleas for help, and they had risen to the occasion magnificently.

“Of course we did,” Hermione said matter of factly.

“We’ll always be there when Harri needs help,” Ron added stubbornly.

Harri sent them both grateful smiles. She never doubted she could count on them.

Hedwig had returned from Hermione’s house with a large box stuffed full of sugar-free snacks.

“Sugar-free!”

“I thought you liked Harri!”

“Gross.”

Josephine frowned to herself. Had Hermione told them where the snacks were going? Had they just ignored a child going hungry at the hands of their guardians?

Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, had obliged with a sack full of his own homemade rock cakes.

McGonagall sent Hagrid a frosty look. Why wouldn’t he have informed her of the situation? Potter was one of her lions, and if she was going hungry at home, she should have been informed by the other Professor.

Mrs. Weasley, however, had sent the family owl, Errol, with an enormous fruitcake and assorted meat pies.

Molly grasped Arthurs’s hand in her own. Why had she only sent food to Harri? Why had they not just gone and got the girl? Why had she allowed Harri to stay in a home that was not feeding her properly?

Cedric Diggory, who Harri had frequently been writing to all summer, had sent her treacle tart with his family owl anytime he could swing it.

Harri reached over and squeezed Cedric’s hand in silent thanks. When Cedric flipped his hand over and captured hers in his own in response, Harri didn’t pull away. They had barely known each other at this point in the books, and yet he had gone out of her way for her. He really was an amazing friend. She was glad she had been given the opportunity to get to know the boy better.

As Cedric held Harri’s hand in his own, he kept his face turned so she could not see the way his brows furrowed together. What had Harri told him in her letters? Surely she didn’t tell him the whole truth. He just couldn’t see himself not telling his mother about it if he thought Harri was in trouble. He wouldn’t have just let it slide, no matter how little he would have known Harri at this point.

Harri still had two of them left, and so, looking forward to a real breakfast when she got back upstairs, she ate his grapefruit without complaint.

“Cake is not breakfast,” Molly scolded with no real heat. Honestly, she was just glad Harri had more than just a small sliver of a grapefruit to eat.

“You,” he barked at Harri. “In the living room. Now.”

“What could I have possibly done from the kitchen table while I ate with Dudley watching me the whole time?” Harri wondered. She didn’t understand.

“Exist?” Fred offered up a lopsided grin that looked too forced to be genuine.

“Fair.”

Bewildered, wondering what on earth she was supposed to have done this time, Harri got up and followed Uncle Vernon out of the kitchen and into the next room.

At least her future self was just as confused about it as she was, Harri thought to herself.

Harri would have dearly loved to have said, “So what?”

“You should have,” George laughed. He would have loved to hear the description of Harri’s Uncle’s face if she had.

“I’m not suicidal,” Harri shook her head. Even she knew that would have been a terrible idea.

Harri’s confusion increased. Who would be writing to Uncle Vernon about her? Who did she know who sent letters by the postman?

“Who, indeed?” Moody questioned as he sat forward, interested in finding the answer.

We have never been introduced, but I am sure you have heard a great deal from Harri about my son Ron.

“As if they would want to hear about my life and my friends,” Harri snorted rudely. She knew better than to even try to mention Hogwarts or her friends to the Dursleys. She would have been punished for trying to share her life with them.

Molly wrung her hands nervously in front of herself. Had she and Arthur gotten the book Harri in trouble because they had written this letter? Had she made Harri’s life more difficult because she had not listened to her children about Harri’s relatives?

I do hope you will allow us to take Harri to the match, as this really is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; Britain hasn’t hosted the cup for thirty years, and tickets are extremely hard to come by. We would, of course, be glad to have Harri stay for the remainder of the summer holidays, and to see her safely onto the train back to school.

Harri shot a grateful smile at Molly, her cheeks red. It still made her head swim, hearing how far  Molly and Arthur were willing to go for her. They had wanted to give her a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Had thought about her when they made these plans. Had been more than ready to open their home to her yet again. Acts like this made Harri sure in her decision to live with the Weasleys after they had left this room, the concerns about Fred notwithstanding. She would sort that mess out when they had the next break, or as much as she could with Fred refusing to let her talk about where they were supposed to go from the kiss they had shared.

He held up the envelope in which Mrs. Weasley’s letter had come, and Harri had to fight down a laugh. Every bit of it was covered in stamps except for a square inch on the front, into which Mrs. Weasley had squeezed the Dursleys’ address in minute writing.

“Is that not how you are supposed to do it?” Molly questioned genuinely. Both Ron’s best friends were muggle-born or raised, and she wanted to know how to send mail the correct way if it was ever necessary. She wanted to understand Harri and Hermione and where they came from. They would be in her and her family’s life for years to come, and she wanted to welcome them with open arms.

“Just once stamp would have sufficed,” Hermione explained gently.

“She did put enough stamps on, then,” said Harri, trying to sound as though Mrs. Weasley’s was a mistake anyone could make. Her uncle’s eyes flashed.

“I don’t think you succeeded,” Charlie laughed next to her as he slung an arm around her shoulders.

“It was worth a shot,” Harri shrugged unconcernedly. She simply no longer cared if she upset her relatives. They could no longer touch her. She was free.

Other people might not understand why Uncle Vernon was making a fuss about too many stamps, but Harri had lived with the Dursleys too long not to know how touchy they were about anything even slightly out of the ordinary. Their worst fear was that someone would find out that they were connected (however distantly) with people like Mrs. Weasley.

“Then they will be happy to know, they will lose all connection to us and those like us after we leave this room and Harri comes to live with us. None of us will ever darken your door again,” Molly sniffed. She would take Harri in and allow the girl to cut all ties with those muggles. Harri would never have to mention them again if she did not want to. Molly was happy to pretend Harri had always been a part of her family if that’s what Harri wanted.

Dudley pulled at the hem of his shirt as it was confirmed that Harri was never coming back again.

“So - can I go then?” she asked.

“I can’t believe you still asked,” Cedric said as he shook her head at her.

“I wanted to go,” Harri shrugged unabashed. “Why should I miss the World Cup because my relatives suck? If I know myself, I’m positive my book self won’t stop until I get to go.”

Blaise was reminded again why Potter would have been a good fit in his own house.

 Allowing Harri to go would make Harri happy, something Uncle Vernon had struggled against for thirteen years. On the other hand, allowing Harri to disappear to the Weasleys’ for the rest of the summer would get rid of her two weeks earlier than anyone could have hoped, and Uncle Vernon hated having Harri in the house.

Nasty looks were sent to the Dursleys. Molly still couldn’t comprehend how they could not love a bright, kind young woman like Harri. Her eyes darted over to her two troublesome children, who had their heads bowed over a piece of paper, and they both spoke in whispers and snuck glances at Harri’s relatives. Molly would have to put a stop to that but allowed the twins to plot for now. As long as they were planning, no actual harm would be done. They were always meticulous in their pranks and would not cause mayhem until they were sure their plans would work.

“Dumpy sort of woman?” he growled finally. “Load of children with red hair?”

“Hey!” The Weasley children cried in protest. That was their mother!

“That’s rich coming from him!” Harri snapped. Her Uncle was easily twice Molly’s size. She did not like hearing her uncle speak ill of her, even if this had not happened yet.

“Quidditch,” he muttered under his breath. “Quidditch - what is this rubbish?”

“Quidditch isn’t rubbish!”

“Hey!”

“Take that back!”

“Only after Dudley finished with them,” said Harri coldly, and indeed, she was dressed in a sweatshirt so large for her that she had had to roll back the sleeves five times so as to be able to use her hands, and which fell past the knees of her extremely baggy jeans.

Sirius felt another pang of guilt as he found Harri in her burrowed clothes. He swore she would have her own clothes that fit properly. The first thing they were doing when they left here was taking Harri shopping, even if he had to let Molly take her and just pay for it while his name got cleared. Harri deserved the world, and he would give it to her.

Hermione chewed at her lip. How had she not noticed before how big Harri’s clothes were on her that weren’t her school uniform or quidditch uniform? How had nobody noticed before this room?

But Harri wasn’t going to stand for this. Gone were the days when she had been forced to take every single one of the Dursleys’ stupid rules.

“Oh?” George asked, eyebrow raised, a grin in place.

“Are we going to get to hear more of your darker side?” Fred asked next, expression eager. He really did enjoy when Harri got sassy, or even downright cruel, like when she used Lockhart as a human shield.

Cedric squeezed Harri’s hand encouragingly. He, too, was looking forward to Harri standing up for herself. She didn’t do it nearly enough, in his opinion. Whatever she did or said to her relatives, Cedric was sure they had it coming.

She wasn’t following Dudley’s diet, and she wasn’t going to let Uncle Vernon stop her from going to the Quidditch World Cup, not if she could help it. Harri took a deep, steadying breath and then said, “Okay, I can’t see the World Cup. Can I go now, then? Only I’ve got a letter to Sirius I want to finish. You know - my godfather.”

“Indirect threats,” Fred roared in delight. That was more like it. Harri had done that brilliantly. Her Uncle would come to his own conclusions about what she would end up telling Sirius. Her Uncle would scare himself and come to his own conclusions on what they could mean. Harri didn’t have to actually even threaten him.

“I approve,” Sirius laughed, glad he had been of some help to Harri, even if these events had not passed. She could use him in any manner, and he would support it. He just wished he could have seen her uncle’s face at the threat.

Narcissa’s mouth twitched upwards. It was a bit blunt, in her opinion, but with some work, Potter’s ability to threaten those around her would soon be a work of art. Potter already had everything she needed to go far in the wizarding world. Narcissa was going to polish her edges and make that sharp tongue of hers a weapon people learned to fear.

Blaise and Daphne shared a look as they both wondered what Harri would have been like if she had been sorted into Slytherin. With her willingness to do whatever it took to get her way, and her ability on a broom, Harri would have been rather popular in Slytherin. They would have rallied around her because that’s what they did. They followed power, and Harri had that. They would have helped her make those muggles’ lives hell. They would have taught her to make people fear her very presence. Though Blaise supposed they had years to bring more of Harri’s Slytherin side to the surface seeing how the Gryffindor’s obviously hadn’t fully corrupted her just yet. If their tentative friendhsip with Harri lasted, Blaise was looking forward to seeing more of this from the girl.

“Well - yeah,” said Hari casually. “It’s been a while since he heard from me, and, you know, if he doesn’t he might start thinking something’s wrong.”

“You could have written me and told me there was something wrong,” Sirius said, still unsure where Harri stood with him. “I might have been on the run, but I would have come.”

“That’s why I wouldn’t have,” Harri mumbled. “Who knows who was watching my house after you escaped? The Ministry still thought you wanted me dead. You had to stay away. I wasn’t going to be the reason you got caught.”

Sirius exhaled through his nose slowly as he took in Harri’s words. There she was, looking after his well-being again. Always putting others before herself. He wouldn’t have cared about the risk. Harri came first; she always would.

Cedric felt his fondness for Harri soar. It never stopped amazing him how selfless Harri could be.

There was only one thing for Uncle Vernon to do. Harri could see the conclusion forming in her uncle’s mind as though the great moustached face were transparent. Harri tried not to smile, to keep her own face as blank as possible. And then -

Harri didn’t bother to hide her glee this time. It served her uncle right. She was glad she had stopped letting them walk all over her, even in the books. She no longer had to mind what she said or her expressions in this room. Never again would she bow down to them and their wants. She hoped her book self continued to stand up to them.

Outside in the hall she nearly ran into Dudley, who had been lurking behind the door, clearly hoping to overhear Harri being told off. He looked shocked to see the broad grin on Harri’s face.

Harri sent Dudley a dirty look, who shocked her by mouthing sorry back. Harri frowned hard at him. He didn’t get to add to her confusion. She had enough going on. Why couldn’t he just stay the massive bully she knew him to be?

“That was an excellent breakfast, wasn’t it?” said Harri. “I feel really full, don’t you?”

Snickers broke out, and it took several seconds for everyone to quiet so Fluer could continue.

The first thing she saw was that Hedwig was back. She was sitting in her cage, staring at Harry with her enormous amber eyes, and clicking her beak in the way that meant she was annoyed about something.

“You’re in trouble,” Fred sang teasingly.

“What could I have possibly done?” Harri cried. She had been down at breakfast all morning.

Harri then realized that the owl had dropped a letter at his feet. Harri bent down, recognized Ron’s handwriting, then tore open the envelope. Inside was a hastily scribbled note.

“You replace one lunatic with another,” Ron excused pointing at Sirius.

“I can find you another owl, or you can pick one out after my name is clear,” Sirius offered in surrender. The owl did sound like a bit much.

“No,” Ron denied quickly. “I want that one.”

It might not be the perfect owl, but it would have been his. The first pet he owned that belonged to him alone.

Harri - DAD GOT THE TICKETS - Ireland versus Bulgaria, Monday night. Mum’s writing to the Muggles to ask you to stay. They might already have the letter, I don’t know how fast Muggle post is. Thought I’d send this with Pig anyway.

“Pig?” Harri asked, puzzled.

Ron shrugged, “I have no idea why I would have named him that, maybe the books will explain.”

We’re coming for you whether the Muggles like it or not, you can’t miss the World Cup, only Mum and Dad reckon it’s better if we pretend to ask their permission first. If they say yes, send Pig back with your answer pronto, and we’ll come and get you at five o’clock on Sunday. If they say no, send Pig back pronto and we’ll come and get you at five o’clock on Sunday anyway.

Harri beamed over at the Weasleys, glad to have them in her life.

Ron nodded his head in agreement. That sounded like a plan. He was glad his parents wouldn’t have let Harri miss the World Cup even if her relatives had said no. He loved his parents and knew he lucked out when it came to them. They really were the best, and he had no issue sharing them with Harri.

She folded this note up very small, and with immense difficulty, tied it to the tiny owl’s leg as it hopped on the spot with excitement. The moment the note was secure, the owl was off again; it zoomed out of the window and out of sight.

Ron scrunched his face up in distaste. His owl would be a lot of work, but he still wanted him.

“Can you take this to Sirius for me?” she said, picking up her letter. “Hang on...I just want to finish it.”

Sirius warmed, knowing Harri had thought of him. He hadn’t messed up in these books yet. He wanted to know how their relationship would develop without all this interference.

Harri was tempted to write a short letter to Cedric to let him know where she would be but dismissed the idea quickly. It would be more fun to surprise the boy. They had talked in length about the World up through the summer. Cedric had expressed hoping she could make it more than once.

Cedric swatted Harri lightly on the arm as he said playfully, “Brat. I’d have liked to know you would only be a few houses down from me.”

Harri stuck her tongue out at him in return.

She had cake, and Dudley had nothing but grapefruit; it was a bright summer’s day, she would be leaving Privet Drive tomorrow, her scar felt perfectly normal again, and she was going to watch the Quidditch World Cup. It was hard, just now, to feel worried about anything - even Lord Voldemort.

“That’s the end,” Fleur announced. “Who would like to read next?”