Phoenix Tears

Chapter 2: Oh, fudge

"This is my house! You can't evict Dudley and Vernon! You can't keep me prisoner in my own house! After all we've done for the boy... this is the payment we get! I won't stand for it. I'll... I'll... I'll ... ring the police!" Aunt Petunia took shrill to a new level as she understood what Professor McGonagall intended to do.

"Oh, you think your police will be overcoming magic, do you?" Professor McGonagall said in clipped tones. "Your laws don't apply here. This house is magically warded... Harry is one of the most... "

"Don't!" Harry blurted out afraid of what she might say. He had lurched forward, hands scrunching the lace table runner on the low table between the sofa and Aunt Petunia's chair. "She doesn't want to hear any of that."

Aunt Petunia yelped in alarm. It took Harry a moment to understand why. When he heard the clink of china against the rings in her hand he knew he had dislodged one of the figurines that had been the bane of Harry's existence dusting this room.

There was a pop of magic and the shattering of china and Aunt Petunia cried out in alarm and pain, "You broke it! Purposefully!"

"You care more for a knick-knack than your own nephew. You should be ashamed. Sadly, I doubt you fathom the depth of your vileness," Professor McGonagall said with so much loathing that Harry was surprised to feel a pang of pity for his aunt.

"Harry, would you be so good as to repair the figurine for your Aunt?" Professor McGonagall requested.

"Me?" Harry asked, turning his nose toward the Professor, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Which one was it?"

"This one!" Harry felt the air in front of his face move and he leaned back allowing his disbelief to show. "Er. The Nymphenburg Petunia that my grandmother gave my mother when I was born," Aunt Petunia sniffed and then her voice was muffled as she bent to pick up the shards.

"I don't think I should do it, Professor," Harry said. "I get the color wrong."

"Yes, Remus was telling me. I think it could serve as a nice reminder for your Aunt," Professor McGonagall said.

"Color? It's porcelain—just perfectly white," Petunia spoke over the professor. "And he's not to do that in our house. Your ministers even said so. Sent him a letter when he wrecked my pudding!"

"That wasn't me!" Harry huffed.

Aunt Petunia yelped again as there was an eruption of wings and scritching claws across the window sill behind Harry. He turned his ear toward the sound.

"Hedwig?" he asked.

"It's not Hedwig, it is a Ministry bird," Professor McGonagall informed him.

"See! Just like before!" Aunt Petunia had jumped up and run out of the room while Professor McGonagall's robes rustled as she strode over to the window.

Harry listened as Professor McGonagall undid the leather straps on the bird's leg. There was a crack of wax breaking and stiff parchment being unfurled. The sound filled Harry with dread. Sure it was going to be another howler, he braced himself.

However, no screaming filled the room—just the small sounds Professor McGonagall made while reading the parchment.

"What does it say?" Harry finally asked after the Ministry owl's hoot faded as it took off and the silence became intolerable.

"Huh?" Professor McGonagall sounded as if she'd just awoken to the fact that he was still in the room. "I apologize, Harry. It is just from the Ministry about our visit. I had certain questions about the details of our time here and what I'm permitted and not permitted to do as your de facto guardian."