(a/n: the first two paragraphs here are taken from PoA)
“Lumos,” Harry muttered, and a light appeared at the end of his wand, almost dazzling him. He held it high over his head, and the pebble-dashed walls of number two suddenly sparkled; the garage door gleamed, and between them Harry saw, quite distinctly, the hulking outline of something very big, with wide, gleaming eyes.
Harry stepped backward. His legs hit his trunk and he stumbled, flinging an arm out to steady himself.
“Harry! Harry Potter!”
Startled, Harry rounded on the source of the voice and shouted, “Expelliarmus!”
There was a sound of ringing metal, and Harry's eyes widened. Before him stood a woman with long, blond hair dressed in jeans and a red shirt. A Muggle. He'd just used magic on a complete stranger, a Muggle woman. But ” was she really a Muggle? She watched him warily, her hands raised as though he were holding her at gunpoint. She obviously knew what a wand was for. Of course, he’d just used it on her. But then ” there was another thing ”.
“How do you know my name?” he asked her suspiciously.
Her expression softened, and she very nearly smiled. “I’d have known you even if I weren’t looking for you, Harry. You look just like your father.”
“You ” you knew my dad?”
“We were at school together. Do you mind if I pick up my keys?”
She glanced at the metal key ring lying in the grass at her feet, the result of Harry’s spell. He lowered his wand. “Of course. I’m sorry ” I was just ”.” He suddenly remembered why he had been spooked, and turned around quickly to stare at the alleyway between the garage and the fence. It was empty.
When he turned back, the woman had pocketed her keys and was watching him strangely.
Harry frowned. “Why were you looking for me?”
“I was at Hogwarts last week,” she said, “And Rubeus Hagrid asked me to look in on you when I got back. Make sure the Muggles were treating you right.”
“You’re not with the Ministry of Magic, then?”
She gave a short laugh. “It'll be a dark day before the Ministry starts admitting the likes of me.”
Harry relaxed a little. If she had known his dad, and she was a friend of Hagrid’s, she must be all right. It still seemed odd that she was dressed as a Muggle, though. Perhaps she was a Squib.
“I saw the Ministry was at your house,” she said, looking at him speculatively. “Are you a fugitive, then?”
Harry bit his lip. “I don't know yet.”
“Well, I certainly haven’t got anything against fugitives.” She folded her arms, looking around the deserted street. “But I might point out that, one way or the other, the Ministry will be looking for you any minute now.”
“I need to get to London. To Gringotts, so I can get some money.”
“And then ”?”
“I ” don't know,” he confessed. “My best friends are abroad with their families. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
“Well.” She frowned, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “You’d better come with me, then.”
“Are you going to London?”
“I have a room there.”
“How close can you bring me to Diagon Alley?”
Suddenly, she smiled. “For James and Lily Potter’s son, I can go as far as the Leaky Cauldron.” She pulled her keys from her pocket. “You don’t mind traveling by Muggle car, do you?”
When Harry saw her car, he suddenly wondered if he wouldn’t be better off on his broomstick. It was so old that it no longer seemed to have any paint on it. A corner of the back had been smashed in, and the radio aerial had been snapped off. The woman opened a back door confidently and heaved Harry’s trunk inside, though, and then opened and held the front door for Harry. Inside, the upholstery seemed to have been stitched up in several places, and even the steering wheel was covered with black electrical tape. Harry glanced sidelong at the woman as she took her place in the driver’s seat. “Er ... you didn’t tell me your name.”
“Theresa McGonagall,” she said, starting the car with a wand.
So she wasn’t a Squib ” but she drove a Muggle car, which, judging by the smooth hum of the engine, she’d probably modified with magic. “This car doesn’t fly, does it?” he asked nervously.
Theresa laughed, pulling into the street smoothly. “No, it’s just a regular car.”
Harry seriously doubted that. There was a large pothole at the end of the street ” Uncle Vernon had been complaining about it all summer ”, but although she didn’t slow down, he hardly felt the bump at all. Harry looked at her curiously. “Did you say your name was McGonagall?”
“Yes. I think my sister Minerva is your Transfigurations professor.”
“I didn’t know she had a sister.”
“Well, we’re not very close.” She glanced at him, taking her hands from the steering wheel, and the car rounded a corner without benefit of her direction. “She’s a lot older than I am, for one thing.”
“Oh. I didn’t think she’d been at school with my parents.”
“She was, in a way ” she was already teaching by then. Used to drive her crazy, your dad and his gang. I was two years younger, you see, and I didn’t really start hanging around with them until after they left school.” She lowered her voice confidentially. “Not that I was a little angel myself, mind you.”
“Wow.” About a million questions Harry wanted to ask flew through his brain, but she spoke before he could put any of them into words.
“Do you mind if I ask why the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad was retrieving a woman from your dining room ceiling?”
“My Aunt Marge,” Harry said darkly.
Theresa frowned. “I thought your aunt was called Petunia.”
So Harry found himself telling her about his Aunt Marge and the lie Uncle Vernon had made him perpetuate, and what Aunt Marge had said about his parents. Theresa seemed appalled in all the right places, and when he told her how Aunt Marge had swelled up like a hot air balloon, Theresa smiled wickedly and said, “Well, good for you. Times like these, I think the Ministry is too quick to tamper with Muggles’ memories.”
“You said it was the Accidental Magical Reversal Squad? Not the Office of Magical Law Enforcement?”
“Yes. You know, if they arrested every teenager who did what you did, there wouldn’t be any students left at Hogwarts.”
“But last summer I got a warning, and it said I’d be expelled if there was any more magic.”
“Of course they say that sort of thing. It’s the only way to get some people to toe the line.”
“Well, it’s not my fault I keep getting in trouble.”
She grinned at him. “You sound just like your dad. I used to think it was his fault.” She reached over and tousled Harry’s hair. “But then, I used to think his hair stood up like that because he never brushed it, and I see now it was a genetic problem. If I see Lily in the next world, I think I’m going to have to apologize for teasing her about keeping him properly groomed.”
“You must have known my mum pretty well, then,” Harry suggested.
“Oh, yes. Our husbands were always running off to have adventures and leaving us together. We got to be pretty good friends.”
“Would you ” tell me about her?” Harry asked quickly. “Everyone always tells me about my dad.”
She made a thoughtful face. “Oh, Lily was wonderful. Brilliant, of course, but really compassionate, too.” Theresa smiled wistfully. “She had a sense of humor that would always catch you off-guard. You didn’t expect such a quiet, gentle person to say such funny things.” She went on, pretending to drive as she spoke, casting a smile in Harry’s direction every so often. She told him things no one had ever told him before about his parents’ courtship and their wedding. She had a warm laugh and seemed to genuinely enjoy talking about his parents. Harry couldn't help but like her.
They had entered London and were approaching Diagon Alley when Harry said, “I’d like to meet your husband. Do the two of you live in London?”
Theresa’s smile faded, and she hesitated before answering. “I ... lost my husband a long time ago,” she said quietly. “Just after your parents died.”
“I’m sorry. Was it Voldemort’s followers?”
“Yes ... in a way ... but it was mostly his own fault. He was always ... rash.”
Harry had a sudden image of a heroic wizard being destroyed by a blaze of spells from Voldemort’s supporters. Theresa seemed uncomfortable with the subject, though, so Harry let it drop.
A moment later, Theresa had parked her car across from the Leaky Cauldron. It was late, and the street was deserted. She looked at Harry and grimaced. “It’s been lovely talking to you, Harry, but I feel like I should try to convince you to let me take you home.”
Harry set his jaw stubbornly. “I’m not going back there.”
She sighed and looked out the window. “And none of your friends are available?”
“No. I told you, they’re abroad.”
“Hm.” Theresa leaned on the dash, thinking. “You’d be welcome at my place, of course, but you’d have to sleep on the floor.”
“I don’t mind,” Harry said, his heart leaping.
“Are you sure? It’s really quite a dump.” She searched his face. “But I can’t go off and leave you with nowhere to go. All right, then.” She started the car again and pulled away from the Leaky Cauldron.
It was by now quite late, and Harry found himself drowsing against the car window. When the car stopped, Theresa got out and opened the back door. She tapped his trunk with her wand, and it floated out of the car, hovering about a foot off the ground. Harry got out, blinking sleepily, and followed her across a parking lot toward an outdoor staircase, his trunk moving obediently ahead of her. Theresa had just put her foot on the first step when there was a strange popping noise all around them. She turned abruptly. “Harry, look out!”
Harry jerked his wand out of his pocket, looking around at a dozen wizards who had Apparated around them. Someone shouted, “Stupefy!” and a jet of red sparks hit Theresa full in the chest. She dropped to her knees with a grunt, and then fell face-down on the pavement.
Harry looked around wildly. The wizards surrounding them were all wearing robes of the same shade of dark blue, and they advanced slowly, wands at the ready. A footstep crunched on the gravel at Harry’s elbow and he whirled, shouting the first hex that came to mind. “Petrificus totalus!”
The wizard looked quite startled as his arms clamped tightly to his sides and his legs sprang together. He tottered for a moment before falling to the ground. Harry turned back to the other wizards.
“Now, Harry,” one of them said reasonably. He had curly brown hair and a scrubby beard. He held his hands up placatingly. “We’re not here to hurt you. We’re with the Office of Magical Law Enforcement.”
“What did you do to Theresa?” Harry demanded.
“She’s just Stunned,” the bearded wizard said. “She’ll be fine when we wake her up.”
“Do it now!”
“Harry”.”
“She didn’t have anything to do with it!” he shouted. “She didn’t know what I did to my aunt! Wake her up now!”
Some of the wizards glanced at each other; Harry heard one of them mutter, “Confunded.” But the bearded one said, “You’re not in trouble, Harry. She’s the one we want.”
“I don’t care! Wake her up!”
The bearded wizard glanced at his comrades and pointed his wand at Theresa. “Enervate,” he muttered, and she came to with a gasp. She rolled over and sat up, shaking her head groggily. Then she jumped to her feet. “What’s going on?”
“You’re under arrest, Theresa,” the bearded wizard said.
“Diggory.” Theresa=s eyes narrowed, focusing on him. “I should have known. Has your wandwork improved, or were you aiming at Harry?”
“It’s you we want. And don’t try to Disapparate, it’ll only make things worse for you.”
“I told you, she didn’t do anything!” Harry cried.
“Hush, Harry,” Theresa said gently. “What are the charges, Diggory?”
“Kidnapping. Conspiracy to commit murder. Aiding and abetting a fugitive.”
“What fugitive?” she asked. “What are you talking about?”
“Do you really think we’re that stupid, Theresa? You’re in the country for no more than a week, and Sirius Black escapes from Azkaban.”
Theresa stared at him. “What?”
“Sirius Black?” Harry said blankly. “That man on the Muggle news?”
Diggory ignored him, grinning at Theresa wickedly. “There are a lot of people who want to talk to you, you know. No one’s ever gotten out of Azkaban before.”
Theresa turned to Harry abruptly. “We’re going to have to go with them, dear.”
“I don’t understand,” Harry said.
“Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. They’ll probably just ask you some questions and send you home. I know that’s not where you want to go, but there’s no help for it.” She turned and offered her wand to Diggory. “I suppose you’ll want this.”
Looking disappointed that she hadn’t put up more of a fight, Diggory snatched the wand and waved his at her. Ropes flew out of the end of it and bound her arms together from wrist to elbow. She winced at the tightness of the ropes, and turned back to Harry with a sigh. “Please don’t believe everything they’re going to tell you about me,” she said, and two of the wizards seized her by the elbows while a third took her hands. One of the wizards counted to three, and then all four of them disappeared with a loud pop.
Diggory came to Harry. “That was a close one, lad, but don’t worry, you’ll be just fine.”
“She wasn’t doing anything wrong!” Harry said angrily. “She was just trying to help me!”
“Er ... right ... well, don’t worry, we’ll get it sorted out.” Behind them, another wizard was performing a counter-curse on the wizard Harry had hexed. “We’ll just get over to the Ministry, then,” Diggory said, and took Harry’s arm.
Suddenly, Harry thought he was going to faint. A roar of rushing blood filled his ears, and his vision was crowded out by stars. Then there was a popping noise, and just as suddenly the stars receded. When Harry could see again, he was in an entirely different place.
They were in a square, cement-floored room with one side opened to another, larger room, and blazing fireplaces all around. The three wizards were already pulling Theresa into the other room, and other people were stepping out of the fireplaces or Apparating all around them. Diggory guided Harry after Theresa.
Even though it was now late at night, the room before them bustled with activity. A harrassed-looking clerk sat at a desk by the front door while dozens of owls soared in and out through a small window near the ceiling. Several witches and wizards in the same blue robes were striding here and there across the room, or sitting at other desks writing on parchments or talking to seedy-looking people. On the other side of the office was a series of small rooms, each having a large glass panel in the door. Theresa was being led into one of these rooms.
Diggory led Harry to a chair and pushed him down in it. Harry turned, craning his neck to watch Theresa. He could just see her being pushed into a chair at a table ... the ropes around her arms disappeared ... and then he heard her voice ring clearly across the room ” “I told you, I want to see Albus Dumbledore! I’m not answering any questions until I’ve spoken to Albus Dumble”!” Her voice was cut off as one of the wizards pulled the door shut behind him.
Diggory handed Harry a cup of hot cocoa, but it cooled in Harry’s hands as he watched the wizards arguing with Theresa behind the glass panel in the door. She seemed to be holding her ground, her arms folded across her chest. Then Harry heard a familiar voice right beside him.
“Harry!”
He looked up, and almost spilled his cocoa getting to his feet. “Mr. Weasley! I thought you were in Egypt!”
Mr. Weasley sank into a chair next to Harry. “We just came back this morning. And a good thing, too ” are you all right?”
“I’m fine, but they’re arresting Theresa for kidnapping me, and I’m trying to tell them I asked her to take me to London, and they won’t listen!”
Mr. Weasley frowned and looked over his shoulder. “Amos, did you use the hat on him yet?”
Diggory came closer. “Er ” no, not yet. Paperwork, you know.”
“He’s a young boy and it’s late at night,” Mr. Weasley said firmly. “Use the hat so you can take your statement and he can go to bed. The longer you wait, the more likely you’ll have the press here, you know.”
Diggory turned away, and Harry said, “What hat? Why would the press care?”
“Because it’s you, Harry,” Mr. Weasley said seriously. “Now listen to me. You should know better than to accept rides from strangers. That woman could have hurt you.”
Harry stared at him, appalled. Mr. Weasley didn’t believe him either. “She’s a friend of Hagrid’s! She knew my parents!”
“Did she give you any proof or did you just take her word for it?”
“Well ” I ” but how else would she know how to find me?”
“Muggles have a list of addresses ... it’s called a fellytone book. This woman has been living as a Muggle for a long time; she knows all their tricks.”
Diggory returned with what looked like an old-fashioned bobby hat in the same shade of blue as his uniform. Mr. Weasley took it from Diggory and turned back to Harry. “This is a Confundus Hat, Harry,” he said. “We’re going to put it on your head, and it’s going to tell us if you’ve had a Confundus charm put on you in the last couple of days, all right?”
“She didn’t put a charm on me,” Harry insisted. “She didn’t do anything like that.”
“Harry, you wouldn’t know if she did. And if she didn’t, well, this will tell us for sure, won’t it?”
Harry frowned, but decided that Mr. Weasley was right. He let him put the hat on his head. He felt an odd sort of vibration, as though the hat were buzzing, which slowly faded away. Then a gravelly voice above his head said, “Nothing, chief. Straight as an arrow.”
Mr. Weasley and Officer Diggory looked at each other.
“It’s never failed before,” Diggory said.
“Some people don’t need magic to trick you,” Mr. Weasley said wearily, pulling the hat off Harry's head.
“She didn't trick me! Look, I left my uncle and aunt’s house, and ”!”
“Steady on, now,” Diggory said, fumbling in one of his desk drawers. He withdrew a parchment and a small black quill. “August Fifth,” he said, licking the end of it, “Amos Diggory, officer in charge. Testimony of Harry Potter, witnessed by Arthur Weasley.” He set the quill, point down, on the parchment, and it balanced there for a moment. Then it began to glide across the page by itself, writing what Diggory had said. “Now, go on, Harry,” Diggory urged. “You left your uncle and aunt’s house, and then...?”
Harry told them the whole story, the quill flying across the parchment, getting every word. When he was finished, Diggory frowned. “You didn’t feel threatened by her at any point, Harry? She didn’t ask any odd questions?”
“Not unless you consider being interested in my opinion to be odd,” Harry said coldly.
Diggory put away the quill, and Mr. Weasley got to his feet. Harry stood up too, looking over his shoulder at Theresa, who was still sitting in the tiny room behind them, glaring at an officer who seemed to have given up trying to interrogate her.
“Well, Harry,” Mr. Weasley said, “That business with your aunt has been sorted out, but ... well ... the Dursleys didn’t seem too interested in your coming home, so I offered to have you stay with us for the rest of the summer. If that’s all right with you.”
For the first time since his arrival, Harry felt a surge of relief. “That would be great.”
“His trunk is over there,” Diggory said, jerking a thumb. “We may have to call him in again for more questions, Arthur.”
“You know where to find me,” Mr. Weasley said, crossing the room to get Harry’s trunk. Harry followed him as he magicked the trunk the same way Theresa had. “Can’t I say goodbye to Theresa?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Harry.”
Harry scowled, following Mr. Weasley to the entrance of the room where Harry and Officer Diggory had arrived. He stopped to look over his shoulder one last time, and someone coming out of the cement-floored room knocked into him.
“Look where you’re going,” he muttered rudely, pushing past Harry.
Harry stared after the black-robed wizard as he approached the clerk. It was Professor Snape, Harry's least favorite teacher from Hogwarts. As Harry watched, wide-eyed, the clerk pointed out Officer Diggory. Snape drew some papers from the folds of his robes, but when Diggory approached him, Snape looked up and saw Theresa from across the room. He brushed Diggory aside and strode purposefully toward her.
Snape had just reached for the doorknob when Mr. Weasley put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Come on, Harry, it’s late.”
* * *
Theresa was rubbing her forehead, which she was sure was still imprinted with the texture of a gravel parking lot, when the door across from her opened. “Back for more, are you?” she said. Then she looked up and sat back in her chair, shocked. “Severus?”
Severus looked at her sternly, but then the door opened behind him and Diggory took him by the arm. “Look here, this woman is under arrest. You can’t just barge in here and ”.”
Severus shoved a parcel into his hands. “You will find here a letter from Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys at Hogwarts, stating that this woman was with him when the breakout occurred. You will also find a letter from Albus Dumbledore vouching for Hagrid.”
Diggory turned the letters over in his hands. “Yes ... well ... there’s still the matter of the boy, and a restraining order...”
“... Which expired eight years ago,” Severus said coldly. “You have no cause to hold this woman.”
“Er ... right. Um. I’ll just go and make sure these are in order.” Diggory left the room.
Severus turned back to Theresa. “I’m a charitable person,” he said silkily, “and so I’m willing to assume that there was a pressing reason why you came all the way to Hogwarts last week and didn’t bother to see me.”
“You were at Hogwarts?” Theresa said blankly. “What were you doing there?”
“I live there.” He sat across from her at the table. “Hagrid didn’t tell you?”
“I suppose he forgot we were friends. And I didn’t think to ask him about you ” what are you doing at Hogwarts? You’re not teaching?”
Severus drew himself up a little. “I’m the Potions Master.”
“Really? Wow. I never would have imagined you as a teacher.”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“I mean ” I’m sure you’re very good at it.” She smiled sheepishly. “Look, I tried to get in touch with you. I went by your old place, but the people there had never heard of you. Then I went to your Aunt Eglantine’s house, thinking she’d know where you were, but she was dead and buried. I’ve only been in the country for a week and a half. I just hadn’t tracked you down yet.”
Severus’ glare cooled just a bit. He glanced at his fingernails. “It’s starting to be a habit, bailing you out like this.”
“I don’t think twice in twelve years is a habit,” Theresa said primly.
“Three times. I’m going to have to start charging you for my services.”
She leaned her chin on her hands. “Is there a frequency discount?”
Severus gave her a rare smile. Theresa sighed in relief. At least one person in Britain was glad to see her.