runaways
"Harry, what on earth are you doing?" I asked, opening my eyes after hearing her muttering under his sheet and seeing a bright light.
"Practicing," Harry said simply, popping his head out of the covers.
"Right now?" I asked.
"Yes, when else am I supposed to?" Harry asked.
"How about, not at midnight?" I suggested. We heard footsteps and instantly laid down and pretended to be asleep as Vernon entered our room again. I swear this man is just looking for a reason to punish us.
"Fine," Harry sighed, going back to bed. I turned over and went to sleep, dreaming of seeing our friends again. It'd been a long summer already at the Dursley's. Neither of us missed this place much at all.
The next day was a beautiful stormy day, our uncle's sister was visiting and they were having us clean the house extensively before she arrived.
"Don't think she's gonna care if the floorboards are a wee bit dusty," I muttered to Harry as we sat on our knees, scrubbing them. Harry just shook his head in agreement when the doorbell began ringing excessively.
"Harry! Harry!" Petunia called out, "Get the door!" Harry gave me a smirk and I rolled my eyes at him as he got up and opened the door and I continued scrubbing.
"Get up!" Petunia commanded me as I heard Marge and her wonderful dog enter. I stood up, gladly and watched the woman come in. I walked into the entrance hall door and leaned my shoulder against the door, watching Harry and Vernon.
"Uncle Vernon, we need you to sign these forms," Harry said, holding our Hogsmeade permissions slips. Third-year was the year we finally got to go on the Hogsmeade trips, and we'd heard all about how much fun they were.
"What is it?" he asked, taking off his jacket.
"Nothing, school stuff," Harry answered, trying to keep it simple.
"Later perhaps," Vernon said, "if you two behave." He gave us knowing looks. Harry and I looked at each other before rolling our eyes and going into the kitchen.
"I will if she does," I sneered at him quietly.
"Oh...you're both still here, are you?" she said disappointed.
"Yes," we replied at the same time with annoyance.
"Don't say 'yes' in that ungrateful way," she scolded us. "Damn good of my brother to keep you two. They'd've been straight into an orphanage if they'd been dumped on my doorstep, Vernon."
"Thank you, you're real sweet," I said snottily, and Vernon glared at me.
"Girl, I oughta—Is that my Dudders?!" Marge said, excitedly running over to Dudley. "Is that my little nephy-poo?!" She wrapped her arms around him and practically assaulted him with kisses.
"You know what?" I whispered to Harry. "Maybe it's better this way," and he laughed quietly.
"Take Marge's suitcase upstairs!" Vernon commanded us, and we both rolled our eyes before doing as we were told.
During dinner, Harry and I didn't get a seat at the table, as usual. We got to stand in the kitchen as they sat around the table, talking and laughing together. We got to serve their food and then clean up the dishes afterward as well.
Harry and I smirked as we watched Marge feed her dog out of her glass of Brandy and said a bunch of made-up words in a high-pitched voice. It was quite embarrassing for her really.
"What are you two smirking at?" she sneered. Harry and I dropped our expressions and continued cleaning. She was lucky we needed Vernon's signature. "Where is it you send the twins again, Vernon?"
"Saint Brutus's," Vernon answered. "It's a fine institution for hopeless cases." He could've picked anywhere and that's the place he went with. Not surprising, really.
"Do they use a cane at Saint Brutus's?" Marge asked us. Harry and I exchanged a glance with our eyebrows raised. Vernon rose his eyebrows behind us, begging us to say yes for some reason.
"Oh, yeah," Harry replied. "We've been beaten loads of times."
"Excellent," she replied. Harry and I exchanged another glance. Is this woman okay?
"I won't have this namby-bamby wishy-washy nonsense about not beating people who deserve it," she continued. "But you mustn't blame yourself about how those two turned out, Vernon. It's all to do with blood. Bad blood will out." Harry and I stopped washing the dishes and gave each other a look.
"The signature," Harry reminded me, and I took a deep breath.
"What is it their father did, Petunia?" she asked.
"Nothing. H-he didn't—he didn't work. He was unemployed," Petunia answered. Could they at least come up with a believable lie?
"And a drunk, too, no doubt?" Marge scoffed.
"That's a lie! Our father wasn't a drunk!" Harry said, turning over to her aggressively. My anger shattered the glass in Marge's hand. And there goes our signature.
"Harry!" I scolded, whispering.
"Don't worry," Marge laughed, "Don't fuss, Petunia. I have a very firm grip."
"I think it's time you two went to bed," Vernon looked at us.
"Quiet, Vernon. You two, clean it up!" she said, snapping at us and pointing to the mess in front of her. Merlin, I hate it here. Harry grabbed two rags, handing me one. We went over and began picking up the shards with our bare hands because that's a safe activity for children to do.
"Actually, it's nothing to do with the father," Marge continued. "It's all to do with the mother. You see it all the time in dogs. If there's something wrong with the bitch, then there's something wrong with the pup!"
"Shut up!" Harry yelled at her. "Shut up!" He threw down the towel he was holding. At this point, there was no way we were getting that signature anyway.
"Don't you dare talk about our mother like that!" I yelled. Our accidental magic started going off as both of our rages grew. The lights in the rooms were flickering as Harry and I stared at the wretched woman.
"Right, let me tell you," Marge said, holding up a finger. It was then, that her finger started to bulge, followed by the rest of her body. She was blowing up like a balloon as the seat cracked beneath her and her buttons were shot off her clothes as the fabric ripped. The Dursleys watched, paralyzed by shock as she got bigger and bigger.
Dudely got hit in the face twice with her buttons as her dog, Ripper, bit at Vernon's ankle. Marge tried to hold to the tablecloth as she began floating into the air, but it just came with her.
She began screaming as she bounced against the ceiling, and Harry and I finally exchanged a look after what we'd done. She bounced outside and began floating into the sky as Vernon called out to her. Harry and I took a step forward, completely shocked as to what just happened.
Vernon tried to grab on to her, but he just went floating with her, and soon he couldn't hold on anymore. He fell to the ground, on his face, and it was almost better than when he did last year. Almost.
Harry ran up the stairs and I followed after him. He kicked his dresser aggressively before sitting on his bed.
"Who does that wretched bitch think she is talking about our parents like that?!" I practically screamed. Harry looked over at the moving photo of them on our nightstand and I followed his gaze. They looked so happy, dancing around in the falling leaves. I wish they were here.
"We're leaving," Harry concluded.
"Leaving? Where to?" I asked.
"Anywhere," Harry replied, shoving things into his trunk. I copied his movements, packing my trunk quickly as well. Will there ever be a year we get a normal return to school like everyone else?
"Anywhere is better than here," I agreed, slamming my trunk closed. Harry I both dragged our trunks down the stairs, wands at the ready.
"You bring her back!" Vernon shouted, running up to us. "You bring her back and you put her right!" I'd never seen Vernon so angry, but neither of us were intimidated as we had our wands on us.
"No, she deserved what she got!" I shouted back at him. Vernon grabbed onto my hair and Harry shoved his wand in his face.
"Keep away from us!" he said as Vernon let go and backed away.
"You're not allowed to do magic outside of school," Vernon replied, even though he was clearly still backing away in fear.
"Yeah? Try us," Harry and I said as we both glared at him.
"They won't let you back now. You've got nowhere to go," Vernon sneered.
"We don't care," Harry replied.
"Anywhere is better than this hell hole," I sneered back. With that, Harry opened the front door and we took off walking down the street, anger fueling us.
We finally caught our breath and stopped in front of a park. We set our trunks down and sat on the curb together.
"Where are we meant to go?" I asked Harry, but he didn't answer as the light above us started flickering and the wind picked up.
A black dog appeared out of the bushes across the street, and Harry and I both stood up as the dog began barking. Suddenly, a force knocked us both to the ground on our backs as a giant triple-decker purple bus came barreling around the corner.
"Welcome to the Knight Bus," a man read off of a notecard as the bus stopped in front of us, "emergency transportation for the stranded witch or wizard. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor for this evening."
He put the notecard in his pocket and looked down at us. "Now whatchu doing down there?" he asked.
"We fell over," Harry answered.
"What'd you fell over for?" Stan asked.
"We didn't do it on purpose," I sassed as we stood up.
"Well, come on, then," Stan said, ushering us onto the bus. "Let's not wait for the grass to grow."
He stepped down and struggled to carry our luggage as we got onto the bus. We got on to see three haphazard beds in the middle instead of seats with a few people sleeping in them, snoring loudly. We moved to the front of the bus and stood there while Stan printed something out and handed it to us.
"Take it away, Ern," Stan said, knocking on the glass to the driver's seat.
"Yeah take it away, Ernie!" a small shriveled-up head dangling from the windshield said. Harry and I looked at it before looking at each other, confirming we, in fact, have never seen anything like that before. "It's going to be a bumpy ride!"
The man sleeping at the wheel woke up abruptly, putting the bus in gear and pressing the gas. We shot off quickly, both Harry and I falling onto the beds behind us as they slid around.
"What did you say your names were again?" Stan asked, looking intently at us as we grabbed onto the bed posts, trying not to get thrown around.
"We didn't," I answered.
"Well, whereabouts are you headed?" Stan asked.
"The Leaky Cauldron. That's in London," Harry answered. Back to the Wizarding World, thank Merlin.
"Did you hear that, Ern? The Leaky Cauldron. That's in London," Stan relayed the information.
"The Leaky Cauldron," the tiny head repeated. "Hey, if they got the pea soup, make sure to eat it before it eats you." It cackled loudly. We swerved down the street, avoiding cars like crazy as we went in the opposite direction of traffic.
"But the Muggles? Can't they see us?" Harry asked.
"Muggles? They don't see nothing, do they?" Stan asked.
"No, but if you jab them with a fork, they feel!" the head answered.
"What the fuck," I muttered as the bus continued driving like a maniac. Harry had a hold on my arm, trying to steady both of us.
"Who is that? That man?" Harry asked, motioning towards the wanted picture on the newspaper. A man with long hair was struggling and screaming aggressively.
"Who is that?" Stan mocked, turning the paper around. "That is Sirius Black, that is. Don't tell me you've never been 'earing of Sirius Black."
"Who is he?" I asked.
"He's a murderer!" Stan answered, getting in our faces. "Got 'imself locked up in Azkaban for it."
"How did he escape?" Harry asked after reading the headline.
"Well, that's the question, isn't it?" Stan replied. "He's the first one that done it! He was a big supporter of You-Know-Who. Reckon you've 'eard of 'im."
"Unfortunately, we know who that is," I scoffed, crossing my arms. Just when I hoped we might have a normal school year for once, a murderer is on the loose.
After traveling a little further, the bus came to an extremely abrupt stop, sending both Harry and me forward into the glass. A man came onto the bus and greeted us happily before taking us inside. He grabbed our trunks and motioned us to go up the stairs, so we did, as he followed.
"Room 11," the man said opening the door. We stepped inside to see our owl waiting for us.
"Hedwig!" we greeted happily.
"Right smart bird you've got there, Potters. He arrived here just five minutes before yourselves," the man explained. We walked over and pet his head. Someone to the right of us cleared his throat, causing us to look over.
"As the Minister of Magic, it is my duty to inform you, Miss and Mr. Potter, that earlier this evening your uncle's sister was located a little south of Sheffield, circling a chimney stack," Fudge said as the man shoved us into the armchairs nearby and poured us some tea.
"The Accidental Magic Reversal Department was dispatched immediately," Fudge continued, "She has been properly punctured and her memory modified. She will have no recollection of the incident whatsoever. So that's that...and no harm done."
"Pea soup?" the man next to us asked.
"No thank you," we said at the same time, still trying to orient to our surroundings.
"Minister?" Harry asked. "I don't understand."
"Understand?" Fudge repeated.
"We broke the law," Harry clarified. "Underage witches and wizards aren't allowed to use magic at home."
"Oh, come now, Harry," Fudge said, clasping his hands. "The Ministry doesn't send people to Azkaban for blowing up their aunts," he joked. "On the other hand, running away like that, given the state of things, was very, very irresponsible."
"The 'state of things,' sir?" I repeated.
"We have a killer on the loose," Fudge explained.
"Sirius Black, you mean?" Harry asked. "But what's he got to do with us?"
"Oh, nothing, of course," Fudge chuckled, but I didn't believe him at all. "You're safe! And that's what matters. And tomorrow you'll be on your way back to Hogwarts. Oh, and uh, these are your new schoolbooks." He pointed to a pile on the table. "I took the liberty of having them brought here for you. Now, Tom will show you to your room."
"Oh and Potters while you're here, it'd be best if you didn't wander," Fudge said ominously as we followed Tom out of the room, Hedwig perched on Harry's arm. We headed to our room and unfortunately had to sleep in the same bed.
"How'd they even know where we were?" I asked Harry.
"No idea," he responded. "Let's just get some rest." I nodded and got ready for bed.
Harry and I awoke the next morning, more excited than ever to return to Hogwarts. I sat by the window, petting Hedwig.
"Harper, this book has eyes," Harry stated, causing me to look over. He picked it up after removing the belt tied around it. "And a mouth."
"A mouth?" I repeated. Then the book began opening and closing rapidly like it was trying to bite him. Harry dropped it, and it continued to munch the papers and go after his feet. Harry jumped onto the bed. I lifted my legs up into the windowsill as Hedwig squeaked.
The book went under the bed, and Harry stuck his head off the edge, upsidedown, to peer at it.
"Harry, it's going to bite your face off," I commented. He took off his shoe and dropped it, causing the book to come out and try to eat it. Harry took the opportunity to jump on top of the book, smashing its mouth closed.
"I think there was a reason it was belted closed," Harry muttered while I got up and grabbed the belt off the table.
"You think so?" I asked sarcastically as he belted the book back closed.
We exited our room to head into the main area as we heard Ron yelling.
"I'm warning you, Hermione, keep that bloody beast of yours away from Scabbers, or I'll turn it into a tea cozy!" he shouted at her.
"It's a cat, Ronald," Hermione replied, "What do you expect? It's in his nature." Harry and I smiled at each other before heading down the stairs.
"A cat? Is that what they told you?" Ron scoffed. "It looks more like a pig with hair if you ask me."
"That's rich, coming from the owner of that smelly old shoebrush," Hermione responded.
"You're so dramatic, Ron," I smiled at him.
"Harper!" Ron smiled back. "Harry!"
"Harper! Harry!" Hermione repeated, smiling at us as she turned around. Harry and I came down and exchanged hugs quickly. Ron had gotten taller over the summer, and changed his hairstyle. He looked really good. And older.
"What's Egypt like?" I asked Ron as I sat next to him at the table. I had my chin placed in my hand, unintentionally admiring him. He had placed a newspaper with a moving picture of his family in front of the pyramids in front of Harry and me.
"Brilliant," Ron responded. "Loads of old stuff, like mummies, and tombs. Even Scabbers enjoyed himself."
"You're not flashing that clipping about again, are you, Ron?" George asked as he and Fred entered the room. The twins had grown their hair out, and it was a lot longer than before. I thought the twins were tall before, but apparently, they had a growth spurt and were even taller.
"I haven't shown anyone," Ron mumbled.
"No, not a soul!" George mocked.
"Not unless you count Tom," Fred started.
"The day maid," George said.
"The night maid," Fred continued.
"The cook," George added.
"That bloke that came to fix the toilet," Fred continued.
"That wizard from Belgium," George said.
"And of course, to impress Harper," Fred smirked and winked at me, causing me to blush.
"I'm not—" Ron started, his face flushing red too.
"Sure you're not," George joked as I slid my elbow off the table and sat back in my seat.
"Harry! Harper!" Mrs. Weasley said, excited to see us.
"Mrs. Weasley!" we said together, standing up.
"Good to see you, dears," she said, pulling us into a hug.
"Good to see you, too" we both said.
"Now have you two got everything you need?" she asked.
"Yep," we replied.
"Yes? All your books?" she pressed.
"It's all upstairs," I told her.
"Harper Potter," Arthur said, extending his hand out.
"Mr. Weasley," I greeted, shaking his hand.
"Harry, wonder if I might have a word?" Arthur asked.
"Yeah, sure," Harry said, walking away.
"What's that about?" I asked Ron, sitting down.
"Not a clue," Ron shrugged.
"You look good here," I commented, pointing at the paper.
"I-I do?" Ron practically choked on his drink.
"Yeah," I smiled at him, watching him turn bright red. I had meant to compliment his whole family, but something about his response gave me confidence.
"You always look good," I said, barely above a whisper and looking into his eyes. Ron's eyebrows raised as he flushed more red.
"Yeah—well—er—you always look better," Ron stuttered, smiling. I couldn't help but grin stupidly at his compliment, positive I was blushing too.