Raised By Wolfstar: Slytherin Harry Potter And The Order Of The Phoenix

Chapter Two: A Peck of Owls

'What?' said Harry blankly.

'He left!' said Mrs Figg, wringing her hands. 'Left to see someone about a batch of cauldrons that fell off the back of a broom! I told him I'd flay him alive if he went, and now look! Dementors! It's just lucky I put Mr Tibbies on the case! But we haven't got time to stand around! Hurry, now, we've got to get you back! Oh, the trouble this is going to cause! I will kill him!

'But—'

The revelation that his batty old cat-obsessed neighbor knew what dementors were was almost as big a shock to Harry as meeting two of them down the alleyway.

'You're—you're a witch?'

'I'm a Squib, as Mundungus knows full well, so how on earth was I supposed to help you fight off dementors? He left you completely without cover when I warned him—'

'This bloke Mundungus has been following me? Hang on—it was him! He Disapparated from the front of my house!'

'Yes, yes, yes, but luckily I'd stationed Mr Tibbies under a car just in case, and Mr Tibbies came and warned me, but by the time I got to your aunt's house you'd gone—and now—oh, what's Dumbledore going to say? You!' she shrieked at Dudley, still supine on the alley floor. 'Get your fat bottom off the ground, quick!'

'You know Dumbledore?' said Harry, staring at her.

'Of course I know Dumbledore, who doesn't know Dumbledore?' Thinking back to the night he kept trying to forget, Harry did remember Dumbledore mentioning a Figg, he just never thought it was the Dursley's neighbor who had been living with her cats as long as Harry had been visiting the Dursleys. 'But come on—I'll be no help if they come back, I've never so much as Transfigured a teabag—'

She stooped down, seized one of Dudley's massive arms in her wizened hands, and tugged.

'Get up, you useless lump, get up!'

But Dudley either could not or would not move. He was still on the ground, trembling and ashen-faced, his mouth shut very tight.

'I'll do it.' Harry took hold of Dudley's arm and heaved, "this would be much easier for Allison" he thought: With an enormous effort he managed to hoist Dudley to his feet. Dudley seemed to be on the point of fainting: His small eyes were rolling in their sockets and sweat was beading his face; the moment Harry let go of him he swayed dangerously.

'Hurry up!' said Mrs Figg hysterically.

Harry pulled one of Dudley's massive arms around his own shoulders and dragged him toward the road, sagging slightly under his weight. Mrs Figg tottered along in front of them, peering anxiously around the corner.

'Keep your wand out,' she told Harry, as they entered Wisteria Walk. 'Never mind the Statute of Secrecy now, there's going to be hell to pay anyway, we might as well be hanged for a dragon as an egg. Talk about the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery...This was exactly what Dumbledore was afraid of—what's that at the end of the street? Oh, it's just Mr Prentice...Don't put your wand away, boy, don't I keep telling you I'm no use?'

It was not easy to hold a wand steady and carry Dudley along at the same time. Harry gave his cousin an impatient dig in the ribs, but Dudley seemed to have lost all desire for independent movement. He was slumped on Harry's shoulder, his large feet dragging along the ground.

'Why didn't you tell me you're a Squib?' Harry asked Mrs Figg, panting with the effort to keep walking. 'Whenever the Dursley were going out and my parents couldn't pick me up Petunia had me watched by you—why didn't you say anything?'

'Dumbledore's orders. I was to keep an eye on you but not say anything, you were too young. I'm sorry I gave you such a miserable time, but the Dursleys would never have let you come if they'd thought you enjoyed it. It wasn't easy, you know...But oh my word,' she said tragically, wringing her hands once more, 'when Dumbledore hears about this—how could Mundungus have left, he was supposed to be on duty until midnight—where is he? How am I going to tell Dumbledore what's happened, I can't Apparate—'