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to do something reckless!”

“I wasn’t going to say either thing,” said Dumbledore. “I’m just saying — please don’t let yourselves be seen.”

“We weren’t planning to,” said Lily.

“The best way would be to go to Arabella Figg’s house via floo, she lives just across the street from Dursleys’ house,” Dumbledore said.

“That old squib?” asked Remus.

“The very same.”

“And may I ask why exactly is she living there?” he asked.

“To keep an eye on Harry and give me the reports,” Dumbledore honestly replied.

“You mean to say,” Sirius yelled, “you knew Harry was being mistreated? You fool! You son of a buldger‼”

Remus pulled him by his arm before Sirius could hit Dumbledore. “Come on, let’s go,” he said. “Keep your anger bottled up; we’re going to need it at the Dursleys.”

If James and Sirius had not been so angry, they would have been surprised to see Remus raging and swearing, acting in the most un-Remusly way possible. But today, they didn’t even notice it.

“Wait,” said Lily. “We told Harry we will take him with us. He needs to see this.”

“Oh yes,” said James. “Padfoot, go fetch him.”

Sirius went sulking away, changing into Padfoot at the door.

 

(A/N: Back to revolving the story around Harry.)

 

Harry was so excited about going to tackle the Dursleys that he stumbled forward and fell face first on the carpet in Arabella Figg’s house as he got out of the fireplace. He couldn’t believe it when Remus told him that Mrs. Figg was actually a squib.

The group of five crossed the street to the Dursleys. Lily pressed the doorbell thrice angrily and impatiently waited for the door to open, tapping her foot.

Petunia opened the door. Colour drained out of her face when she looked at Lily, then at James, and finally at Harry. Remus and Lupin were standing behind them, out of sight for the moment.

“V-V-VERNON!” she screamed and fainted on the spot.

None of the group made a move to stop her fall or to help her to her feet.

 A walrus sized man came from inside. His gaze fell on his unconscious wife, then to Lily, James and finally settled on Harry. “YOU!” he roared. “What have you done to my wife, boy?”

“Don’t you dare to yell at my son,” Lily shrieked.

“Your s-son? But y-you . . . aren’t you d-d-dead?” Vernon asked. Harry was enjoyed a stuttering Vernon Dursley for a change.

“Was,” Harry corrected. “Now, they’re back.”

“Y-You are not w-w-welcome h-here,” Vernon stuttered, trying to close the door. “Do not enter,” he said trying to be fierce, but failing miserably.

“Watch me,” James smirked and the door blasted open, giving the intruders a free access to enter the house.

“M-Mum? D-D-Dad?” a frightened Dudley Dursley came running, only to revert back and try to run upstairs to hide, try being the operative word. Sirius Black pulled him by his collar and pushed him back into the living room.

James steered on his wand tip — a horrified Vernon Dursley — into the living room who was now half carrying half dragging Petunia who had come back to her senses but was still in shock.

As Harry followed his father and mother, he found Marge sitting on the table, going red with all the wine. A huge cake was placed on the table and a large pile of presents was sitting on it.

“Looks like we’ve gate crashed a party,” Sirius muttered.

“What’s the date today, Remus?” Harry asked.

“June, the twenty sixth,” Remus said.

“Oh yes, how could I have forgotten? It’s Dudley’s birthday!” Harry spoke. “Happy birthday, Big D.”

(A/N: I don’t actually know Dudley’s birthday, but JKR mentioned in HP and the Half-blood Prince that he is a month older than Harry, so I sort of made it up, w.r.t. June 24th from the task and July 31st from you-know-what. Hope none of you has got a birthday on June 26th then, as I for one can’t even think of sharing mine with Dudley Dursley.)

“Hope you can count your presents now,” Sirius said, sneering at Dudley.

“I know who you are,” Dudley said pointing at Sirius. “I saw you on — on the television. You’re a — a mass murderer — and an escaped convict,” he said, trembling.

“Well then, bad luck for you, as I happen to be Harry’s godfather also,” Sirius said, grinning, to the horror of the Dursleys.

“By the way, congratulations Dudley, your vocabulary had improved,” Harry said.

“I — WILL — NOT — HAVE — TALKING — YOU — TO — MY — SON — LIKE — THAT!” Vernon bellowed, who now seemed to have gained his persona back. “I’ve had enough. Out now! OUT‼” he cried.

“Nah! I want to have a little chat with my dear sister now,” Lily said, smiling wickedly. “Have a seat Tuney, or should I say Petunia now.”

A trembling Petunia sat down on the sofa.

Remus spoke up, “This must be your sister Vernon, seeing that she’s got the same pig blubber. I don’t want her to miss the fun.” With a flick of his wand, Marge became sober once more.

“Are you — you are —” Marge started, staring at Lily.

“Yeah, Petunia’s dead sister,” Lily said. “But now I’m alive you see, and I’ve come back to have my revenge for treating my son like filth. . . . Let me introduce you to the rest of us . . . this is my husband, James Potter, Vice-Head of Auror Department — which is equivalent to Vice-Superintendent of Police,” she said pointing to James. Moving to Sirius, she said, “This is Sirius Black — a prison escapee — like the piglet over there said. He is my husband’s best friend and Harry’s godfather.” Pointing to Remus, she said, “He is Remus Lupin, a werewolf, and my husband’s other best friend.”

Harry was so far enjoying the horror on the faces of the Dursleys.

“Isn’t a policeman supposed to turn the criminals in?” Marge asked.

“Well, being best friends with one is a great perk,” Sirius said, smirking.

Harry spoke up, “And for your information — er — Marge, I go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and not — er — what was that — yes — St. Brutus’s Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. You see, I’m a wizard, so are they,” he said pointing to James, Sirius and Remus. “And my mum’s a witch.”

“Don’t listen to him Marge,” Vernon bellowed. “He’s mad, so are the rest!”

“I can see that for myself,” Marge spoke. “Petunia, I think she isn’t even your sister. Your parents must have picked her up from the orphanage. Or someone dumped her on their doorstep just like this boy was dumped at yours.”

The next instant, she went flying into the wall, with feet up and head down, arms sticking to her sides. All four adults had their wands pointed at her, and had shot a different spell each. Funniest thing was the way her legs were behaving — straightening up for a second and deflating like a jelly the next instant. Harry and the rest went howling with laughter.

“I used the full body-bind,” Sirius smirked. “Which one did you use, James?”

“Levicorpus,” James said, grinning.

“I used tongue-tying spell,” said Remus. “She was speaking too much for her own good.”

All three of them looked at Lily. “Oh, I used the Banishing Charm, followed by Jelly-Legs” she said. Smirking at Vernon, she added, “Fourteen years of being dead has left me and James a bit rusty. Should we use you next for practicing upon, or your son Dudley, seeing as he treated my son as a personal punching bag all those years‼”

“Wait Lily —” James said, “— talk first, action later!”

“Oh yes,” Lily said, sitting down on the couch. “Will you keep standing, Vernon?” she said in a sickly sweet manner, as she pointed her wand and forced him in a sitting position on the chair. All others settled as well.

“So,” James began. “I’m — er — unemployed? A ‘no-account, good-for-nothing, lazy scrounger’ — who got myself and Lily killed in a car crash — er — drunk, right? Well, for your information I don’t even know how to drive that wretched thing! A broom’s far better.”

“And,” Sirius began, “her sister, Lily was a ‘bad egg’, who ran off with a wastrel to give birth to Harry? If you call Lily a bad egg and Petunia’s good for you, then you ought to sort out your knowledge of good and bad.”

“Well, for your information, James’ son here has saved the necks of not only us wizards but you muggles as well — from Voldemort — four times. For all you know, if Lily hadn’t died and the spell hadn’t backfired on Voldemort that night, you all could have been long dead. Let’s see — then, if Harry here hadn’t put his life on stake and stopped Voldemort from returning, in his first year at Hogwarts, all you muggles would be gone. Same goes for the second year, just with a tad bit more danger. And then, this year, Lord Voldemort has returned, so watch your necks,” Remus said.

“They don’t understand all that, Remus,” Harry said.

“Then they should,” Sirius spoke. “You should’ve called yourselves lucky you’re related to Harry Potter, but you — you made him work — make breakfast — mow lawns — treated him like filth! Did you think you’d get away with all that?”

“Petunia,” Lily began, “d’you think we would have treated Dudley the same way were the circumstances reversed?”

“Well, I think we wouldn’t have atleast allowed him to develop into a baby-whale,” James said, leaning back on the couch.

“Now apologize,” Remus spoke up.

“W-WHAT?” Vernon asked, sitting up straight.

“D’you want me to clean your ears for you? He asked you to apologize to Harry,” Sirius shouted.

“And why would I do that,” Vernon asked.

“Well, you would if you want your son not to be changed into a pig,” James said. “You haven’t forgotten the pig-tail Hagrid gave him, have you?”

“I’m s-s-sorry Harry,” Petunia mumbled.

“Pardon me, I couldn’t hear you Aunt Petunia,” Harry said, enjoying it all.

“I’m SORRY,” she shouted before standing up in anger.

“You don’t apologize like that,” Remus seethed. Petunia was forced to fall back on the couch. “Let’s start with your husband here,” he said pointing to Vernon. “Will fifteen sit-ups be fine Harry, one for each year? I would have gone for fifteen hundred, but I don’t think his legs can support more than that.”

“Yeah fine,” Harry said, laughing at the look on Vernon’s face.

Fifteen sit-ups and a handful of hexes each later, Harry found himself back in Arabella Figg’s living room with the others. Remus Lupin had performed a memory charm on Marge.

As the adults were talking about what had just happened, Harry spoke up “Why didn’t you tell me you’re a Squib?” he asked Mrs. Figg. “All those times I came round your house — why didn’t you say anything?”

“Dumbledore’s orders,” she said. “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. . . .”

“Yeah,” said Harry.

After having tea and some cakes, the group flooed back to Dumbledore’s study.

Memories

 “That was fun,” James said as he and Lily emerged from underneath the invisibility cloak in the Room

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