Halloween, October 31st, 1981 was a night to remember; for victory and tragedy. Tragedy was when twelve Muggles and a wizard lay dead on the streets of Kent, murdered by the traitor Sirius Black. Tragedy was when that same turncoat betrayed James and Lily Potter and revealed Godric Hollow to Voldemort. And the Dark Lord, having heard of certain prophesy, went in search of one Harry Potter with the intent of having him killed. But James and Lily stood in the way of the dark wizard and gave their lives for their infant son; in that instant a most powerful magic was born--blood magic. On that fateful night, Harry Potter became both an orphan and a hero. With the powers bestowed on him by his mother’s sacrifice, Harry survived the un-survivable Avada Kevadra—the killing curse—and vanquished Voldemort. Harry, only one year old at the time had unknowingly and under no will of his own, saved the world.

Harry Potter became a legend, a household name, and Voldemort became a thing to be visited only in nightmares.

As Wizards of Britain all raised their glasses and toasted to Harry Potter--the boy who lived--and celebrated the defeat of Dark Lord Voldemort, their young hero vanished. The orphaned boy had been picked up from his crib in the crumbled ruins of Godric Hollow and handed over to Albus Dumbledore. And Dumbledore, in all his wisdom, believed that it would be best if Harry grew up in a normal home, away from all the prejudices of the Wizarding world and pressures of fame. And despite the cautionary words his colleague, McGonagall, the old wizard left Harry on the doorsteps of his aunt’s home with nothing but a letter and a whisper of good luck.

Dumbledore was a good man, and only wanted what was best for young Harry…if only he knew how his good intension would backfire.

Five years have gone by and all was well. Until one day Dumbledore and McGonagall arrived unexpectedly at Little Winging and knocked thrice upon the door of #4, Privet Drive, the home of Harry Potter.

oo0oOo0oo

Mrs. Petunia Dursley of #4 Private Drive did not like housework. Just because she was a housewife and enjoyed pampering her husband and son did not mean she had to enjoy sorting through their dirty laundry.

It was quite early in the morning when Petunia awoke to the sound of chirping birds and less appealingly, the booming snores of her husband. Mrs. Dursley could not sleep, and who could with Mr. Dursley blaring away what sounded like a cross between a freight train and an African elephant.

Petunia gave her husband a hard jab in the ribs; unfortunately Vernon’s insurmountable amount of fat cushioned the blow very effectively. Petunia scowled and lay staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before deciding that she might as well get up and get the laundry out of the way, then start breakfast.

Normally, she would set the task to her nephew, but the wretched boy had ‘ran away’ and she will have to do all the household chores herself from now on. Petunia, though, was glad the boy was gone. Her nephew had been nothing but a burden since that first day she’d found him on her doorstep. For five years now she and her husband had fed, clothed and cared for the boy and what have they got in return? Nothing! The boy’s brought nothing but misfortune and bad luck and…and that diabolical…magic! But no more! Enough was enough, the boy had to go.

Petunia had been more than content with her life; she had a wonderful husband, an adorable son and lived a perfectly normal suburban life…all until the freak came along and ruined everything! It had not been easy to feed and clothe a second child and poor Dudley had been forced to grow up with the abomination.

The boy belonged to her elder sister, Lily. Petunia despised Lily for her abnormal abilities. For years she had warned her sister that magic was the devil’s work and for years had been ignored. Then one day Lily went and got herself blown up and took her pathetic husband with her, leaving their child for her family to raise! And not just any child; the boy is his mother and father in every way--stupid, useless and deviant.

Strange things happened when the boy was around, bizarre things, and everyone knew how the Dursley, especially Mrs. Dursley, hated things that were out of the ordinary. Not that Harry could help himself; he was an exceptionally powerful wizard, which resulted in frequent and strong accidental magic. Petunia had resorted to keeping the boy in the cupboard under the stairs; you know what they say, out of sight, out of mind. However, no matter how hard they tried, they could not squish the magic out of Harry.

When hateful scoldings, no meals and cupboards did nothing to prevent Harry from doing ‘the devil’s work’, Mr. Dursley resorted to more drastic measures. “A sound beating would teach that boy to bully Dudley with his freakishness!” Mr. Drusley had bellowed one night when Harry had made Dudley’s juice box fly over to him. Petunia had not objected and watched with satisfaction as her husband struck the three year old boy.

As the years past, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley began getting more and more paranoid around Harry. They’d started to believe every bad thing that happened was somehow related to magic, and that their nephew was responsible. Poor Harry was blamed for everything that went wrong in the lives for the Dursleys; from losing the remote control to Dudley missing his favourite cartoon because he was busy with his Game Boy. And when bad things did happen, Vernon would take his hand to Harry and hit him a couple dozen before locking the orphan in his cupboard.

Obviously a dozen was not enough. Petunia thought venomously as she dumped Vernon and Dudley’s underthings into the wash. But the boy’s gone now and there was no point in thinking about him anymore.

Mrs. Dursley had her perfect life back and she was ready to put the past behind her; she was ready to be content again. Today was the beginning to the rest of her life, and what a merry one it will be.

There was a knock on the door.

“Be there in a minute,” Petunia called, hurriedly pouring in the appropriate amounts of detergent and closing the lid. The washing machine rumbled away as Petunia went to answer the door.

Now who would be at the door this early in the morning?

oo0oOo0oo

“You don’t think Harry was lost do you, Albus?” asked McGonagall. She knew Dumbledore better than anyone, and something was definitely bothering the old man.

“Oh, he was definitely lost. But that isn’t the question now, is it my dear Minerva?”

“What do you mean?”

“The question is: how did Harry become lost?” Dumbledore answered wisely.

McGonagall frowned and was silent for a moment before she spoke. “I see what you mean.”

“Come,” said Dumbledore as they walked up to 4 Privet Drive. “Let’s inform Mr. and Mrs. Dursley that Harry has been found. I’m sure they’ll be ecstatic.”

“Of course, Albus.”

Dumbledore knocked on the door and a woman’s voice shrieked sweetly from inside. A moment later, a tall blond woman appeared in the doorway.

“Mrs. Dursely, I presume?” Spoke Dumbledore.

“Can…I help you?” Petunia said hesitantly as her eyes caught the strange garments the pair wore. She looked Dumbledore up and down, put a great scowl on her face, and then tilted her head to give McGongall the same regard. These people were definitely not from around here.

“Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying it,” Petunia dismissed and made to shut the door.

“We are not salespersons, Petunia,” Dumbledore interrupted.

Petunia frowned and narrowed her eyes. “How did you know my name? Who are you?”

“Is your husband at home?”

“Vernon? Why do you want him for? Why would he know anyone the likes of you?”

“If you would, Petunia. My colleague and I would like to speak with you and your husband. It won’t take a moment, may we come in?”

“No, absolutely not! Away with you before I call the police,” Petunia snapped and again attempted to close the door, but Dumbledore put up a hand and stopped the door just before it slammed shut.

“What are doing?” Petunia shrieked, “Vernon? Vernon come quick.”

“We are not here to make trouble, Petunia,” Dumbledore spoke mildly. “But…either you invite us in, or I’m afraid we will have to invite ourselves,”

“Why I never! How dare you threaten me! You wait till my husband gets here, I’ll have him teach you a thing or two! Vernon? VERNON!”

“Petunia, please calm down. We only wish to talk,” Dumbledore assured.

Mrs. Dursley pursed her lips and pierced Dumbledore with a dirty look. She had a dilemma. These were definitely not normal folk; normal folk did not dress like characters from the Wizard of Oz. And it would not do to have abnormal folk inside the house, not her house! For goodness sake, they had finally managed to get rid of the boy! The last thing Petunia needed was strange folk to replace him. Then again…

“We are not leaving until you speak with us, Mrs. Dursley,” McGonagall said sternly.

Then again, there were the neighbours. Petunia craned her long neck to see around the witch and wizard. She definitely can’t have these freakish people on her front steps; the neighbours might see. That would be a catastrophe! These people were obviously not going away, besides what could an old man and woman do?

“Fine!” Petunia reluctantly agreed, ushered the pair in and quickly shutting the door. “But you’d better make it quick.

“You stay right there,” Petunia ordered, fearing the strange people might contaminate her home. “Vernon dear? What are you doing? Some strange folks are here, come see what they want.”

“What is it, Petunia?”

“Vernon, there are people here,” the woman sneered as Vernon appeared from the second floor. “They threatened me, Vernon. Said that they would force their way in if I did not let them.”

“WHAT?” Vernon demanded menacingly, stampeding down the stairs to face the pair of witch and wizard. He waved his hands at them. “Who do you think you are, threatening my wife and barging into our house uninvited?”

“Mr. Dursley, perhaps it would be best if I introduced myself first. My name is Albus Dumbledore and this is Minerva McGonagall. We haven’t met before, but I’m sure Petunia remembers,” said Dumbledore as he looked at Petunia through his half-moon spectacles.

Mr. Dursley glared at the pair with his beady eyes and scrunched up his face. “Who?” He uttered, having not the slightest idea who these people were and not giving a damn. “Now listen, I don’t care who you are. You can’t just come into people’s houses without…”

Petunia, who remembered full well who Dumbledore was, interrupted Vernon in mid speech.

“Du…Dumbledore?” she staggered, her eyes widening.

The old wizard smiled. “Ah good, I see you haven’t forgotten me.”

“You know this man? Who is this Dum-ba-dore, Petunia?”

“I…he…” Petunia started, unable to form words due to her shock.

“Petunia? What’s wrong?”

Petunia looked like she’d seen a ghost, a ghost that she hated. “You!” she hissed suddenly as the initial shock turned to revulsion. “You! You were the one who brought us so much grief! It was you! You left the boy here five years ago!”

Vernon’s beady eyes bulged in his skull and his face grew red instantly. He turned to Dumbledore and McGonagall. “You mean…you’re one of them? You’re one of them freaks!”

McGonagall gasped and huffed in indignation. “Mr. Dursley! Please do not insult…”

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” Vernon bellowed on top of his lungs, not caring if any passing neighours might overhear.

“Mr. Dursley,” said Dumbledore as he tried to get Vernon to calm down. But Vernon was too worked up; he’d just gotten rid of the boy, he never thought he’d have to deal with their kind again.

“NO! HOW DARE YOU COME INTO MY HOUSE! I WILL NOT HAVE YOUR KIND CONTAMINATING MY HOME. NOW GO AWAY AND STAY AWAY!”

“Mr. Dursley! You will stop shouting at once.” Dumbledore spoke gently, but he hummed with the authority that demanded Vernon to calm down.

Vernon swallowed, clearly intimidated but refused to be deterred—this was one matter he could not let go. “Who do you think you are? You…you think that just because you are wiz…wizards that you can do what you like. Well, let me tell you something, I will not allow it! I will not have you…you freaks inside my home.”

McGonagall rolled her eyes, getting impatient with the Dursley’s antics and decided to shut him up. “Be silent, Dursley!” She commanded with authority. “We are here about your nephew, Harry Potter.”

“Harry Potter?” Both Mr. and Mrs. Dursley paled. “He…he’s gone, ran away the ungrateful miscreant. Been gone for weeks!” Vernon stuttered.

McGonagall narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Did Harry really run away? Could he really been gone for weeks? Impossible. “Weeks you say?”

“Yes, uh…that’s right—you heard me—weeks! Called the police…huh, no trace of the boy. They…uh, given up looking. Who knows where the rotten boy’s run off to” Vernon explained, stammering out the cover story he and Petunia had made up. “Well, good riddance, he’s nothing but trouble I tell you.”

The witch glanced at her friend for confirmation of her suspicions. It did not take a mind reader to figure out that the two Muggles were lying, and sure enough Dumbledore was subtly studying the Dursleys.

“Perhaps we can help you find him?” Dumbledore offered, keeping his calculating eyes on Mr. and Mrs. Dursley.

“What? No, no, no!” Mrs. Dursley cried, waving her hand. “It is none of your business. We don’t need your help!”

“Are you not in the least worried about the boy?” McGonagall said with exasperation and disapproval.

“Worried? Why would we waste time and energy worrying about that boy? That insolent, ungrateful brat ran away from us! We gave him everything and he runs away! Me and my wife are glad he’s gone and…and we’re don’t care if he never comes back again!” Vernon finished nastily.

“The boy is a menace just like that wench and her hoodlum husband, James Potter!” Petunia added, spitting with disgust. “All his damned freakishness and…and magic, causing strange things to happen, making things disappear…it’s a disgrace! We never wanted him and never will. He shouldn’t have been left with us in the first place. He’s a useless ugly little beast and if you ask me I’d say that the boy should have died along with his parents. They got what they deserved, it’s a pity the little freak didn’t!”

“ENOUGH!”

Dumbledore’s eyes had glistened dangerously, but it was McGonagall who spoke. Minerva McGonagall was known for keeping her cool, but this was too much. She would not just stand there and let these people insult her friends and their son. Drawing her wand, she advanced on the Dursleys and aimed it at their faces. Petunia shrieked at the sight and took a few steps back behind her husband.

“Enough!” she began furiously. “How dare you say such hideous, loathsome things! You should be ashamed of yourselves! James and Lily were good people and I am sure their son is a wonderful boy. You, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley are the true disgrace of our society; wishing death on an innocent child! You’re nephew no less! Do not speak ill of the Potters again or and I will not hesitate to show you what us ‘freaks’ can do!”

Vernon turned a shade of chalk. “What are you doing? Put…put that thing away,” he said shakily, unable to take his eyes off the wand. He wasn’t quite sure what wands can do, or what they were really, but according to his wife they were worse than guns. And any sensible man would fear a gun pointed at his face.

“Now, Minerva.”

“Albus, really!”

“Petunia, Mr. Dursley” Dumbledore began dangerously, “I must ask you not to speak ill of my friends when I am within hearing range. Next time, I may just let Minerva have her way.”

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley both turned a paler shade of white at Dumbledore’s ominous tone.

“Mummy? What’s going on?” Dudley, the pampered son of Mr. and Mrs. Dursley suddenly appeared on the staircase, apparently having just woken up. Dudley Dursley took after his father; only six years old and already sixty pounds. This was rather unfortunate for Harry, who not only had to deal with being pushed around by from…extremely large cousin, but his gargantuan castoffs as well.

Petunia’s face immediately softened as she bent down and pulled her son into a hug. “Good morning Duddykins. Did mummy wake you? Oh, I’m so sorry baby.”

“Mummy, I’m hungry,” Dudley whined.

“Alright dear, why don’t you go into the kitchen and get yourself some cookies first.”

“Mummy make breakfast!”

“Mummy is busy right now.”

Dudley pouted and stomped his feet.

“No! Mummy make breakfast now!” he screamed.

“Dudley, be a good boy and mummy will take you to McDonalds for lunch, okay?”

Dudley considered this for a moment, then spotting the strange people at the door scowled. “Who are they?” He pointed with one chubby little finger.

“Ah, your son I presume?” Dumbledore asked.

“You leave my boy out of this!” Vernon shouted protectively.

Petunia and her husband were very much capable of affection; their own son Dudley, was as spoilt as a child could get. It’s hard to believe that a mother and father who showed so much tenderness and regard for one child, could be so cruel to another. But that was the case. Petunia especially, was a very loving mother, but treated her own sister and nephew like they were scum of the earth.

“They’re weird, mummy. I don’t like them.”

“Yes, they are bad people,” Petunia confirmed, giving Dumbledore and McGonagall a nasty look. “Dudders dear, listen to mummy, as soon as Daddy make the bad people go away, Mummy will make your favourite chocolate pancakes with lots and lots of syrup.

“And sausages, and bacon, and eggs and cookies!” ‘Dudders’ demanded.

“Yes, sweetheart,” she indulged and gave her Dudders a kiss on the cheek.

“And a Happy Meal for lunch!”

“Of course, dear.”

Dudley grinned turned down the hall, but not before giving one last look at the strange people at the door and sticking his tongue at them.

McGonagall huffed in indignation. Dumbledore chuckled.

As soon as Dudley disappeared behind the kitchen doors, Mrs. Dursley turned back to Dumbledore, her great scowl back on her long face. “You should never have had brought him here.”

“Now, Petunia, surely you don’t mean those things?”

Petunia’s face darkening heinously. “I do, Dumbledore. I have never meant anything more in my life.”

“Harry is your nephew, Petunia.”

“Exactly! He’s my dead sister’s son, a Potter, a thief and a liar and a hell spawn. He’s one of you…a…abominations!” Petunia hissed. “And I hate him!”

“Mrs. Dursley! Harry is just a child.”

“What of it? He is not my child!”

“Nevertheless…”

“You heard my wife! We hate that boy! The boy choose to run away!” Vernon growled. “And that’s that. We are no longer responsible for him. And if he is ever found, we will send him to straight an orphanage! It’s what Marge has been saying all along, isn’t that right, Petunia?

"That’s right,” Petunia nodded in agreement, and then sneered in utter contempt. “I hate that boy, Dumbledore, do you hear? We hate that boy and no longer wish to have anything to do with him!”

Dumbledore’s eyes flashed contained anger. McGonagall looked at her colleague, she rarely saw Dumbledore so infuriated.

“He was becoming more and more like his parents day. I couldn’t stand it anymore, we had to do something,” Petunia muttered contemptuously, without thinking.

McGonagall snapped her attention back to the Muggle. “What did you say?”

“Nothing….I didn’t say anything,” Petunia denied, flustered.

“Consequently,” McGonagall continued. “Why did your nephew run away?”

“What…how…how should we know? We took him in out of the goodness of our hearts and loved him, provided for him.” Petunia shouted.

“Like you said, he is our nephew,” Vernon stepped in, sweating a bit from all the ‘excitement’. “This is our business. It does not concern you. Potter’s boy does not live here anymore. Go and do not come back!”

Dumbledore gazed at Petunia in silence, studying her intently. Mrs. Dursley tried her best to glare back as the old wizard held her eyes. He seemed to read her mind, Petunia realized nervously. After what seemed forever to the Muggle woman, Dumbledore relaxed and released her. “Very well, Petunia. If that is your wish.”

Petunia quavered. “Hum..ph.”

“Albus?” McGonagall questioned.

“Come, Minerva. It is time to go. Mr. Dursley, Petunia, we shall take our leave, thank you for speaking with us.” Dumbledore spoke, his tone grave with disappointment and sadness.

“Humph, that’s right, out you go!”

Dumbledore signaled McGonagall and they turned to leave.

“Albus? Shouldn’t we investigate the matter further? I mean…”

“Later, Minerva. I think we need to hear from Harry too, and if what I fear is true…well, we’ll see.”

“Very well, Albus.”

“What are you two whispering about? You better not try anything funny or…or else!” Vernon threatened ineffectually.

Dumbledore acted as though he did not hear and said to Mrs. Dursley. “Oh, and Petunia. Harry is safe.”

“Wh…what? You’ve…found the boy?” Mrs. Dursley faltered. “What has that wretch been telling you? He’s a liar, a filthy liar! Don’t you believe a word he says!”

Dumbledore’s only reply was, “remember my last.”

“You have not heard the last of us, Dursleys,” McGonagall promised.

“Go on…get out. Out I say. Come here again and we will call the police,” Vernon bellowed shakily. “and…and have you arrested for trespassing, we will!”

And the door slammed shut.

McGonagall thinned her lip. “Can you believe those people? Oh, the hideous things that they had to say. I knew Lily and her sister never got along, but I didn’t think it was this bad. It’s obvious that they hate the poor boy. Did you hear the things they had to say?”

“Yes, Minerva.”

“I can’ t imagine how they would have treated Harry. I wouldn’t blame him for running away, if indeed that is what he did.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions, Minerva,” Dumbledore said solemnly. It was clear, however, that he was also ‘jumping to conclusions’.

“Not jump to conclusions? But you just said that you feared…” McGonagall trailed off exasperatedly. “You heard those Muggles. They were lying and definitely had something to hide. Do you remember what I told you five years ago? I told you that….”

“My memories are finely intact, thank you, Minerva. Let us get back to Hogwarts and see to Harry.”

“Never in my life, Albus. Never have I met such rude people,” the witch spoke, barely containing her outrage. “Harry, do you think he’s okay?” McGonagall asked, looking concerned.

“He looked fine did he not?” Dumbledore said quietly.

McGonagall nodded slowly. “Yes, I suppose. But I can’t help thinking…they way they were acting…the things they said…”

“Come along; let us find a safe location to Apparate.”