Accidental Magic

Accidental Magic

Chapter Five:

The Final Gift

~*~*~*~

"Aren't you coming to bed, dear?" Vernon asked Petunia from the foot of the stairs at eleven o'clock on the evening of July thirtieth. "Ah, that's right. Need to make sure the freak leaves. May I wait with you? I've been itching to toss the boy out for years." Vernon chuckled.

"I'll be up as soon as he leaves," Petunia reassured him. "You needn't be bothered with this any longer."

"Humph," he answered. "At the stroke of midnight, Petunia. No later." She watched him step heavily up the stairs, the wood creaking beneath his feet.

Once she was sure that Vernon was in bed, she went into the lounge and found Harry pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. His steamer trunk was standing in the corner of the room and Hedwig's cage sat atop it, empty. All he had in the world was in that trunk. No extraneous boxes of youthful collections or anything resembling that of a child leaving home. Just a steamer trunk and a cage. She wiped away the stray tear that escaped her eye.

"Vernon's in bed. He won't bother us." Petunia sat on the sofa, her hands in her lap, not knowing what else to do with them. "What time are they coming?"

Harry stopped pacing. "Uh, quarter to twelve." Petunia nodded.

"Where's Hedwig?"

"I let her out at sunset. She'll meet me at The Burrow." The Burrow. That was what he actually considered his home instead of where he lived for most of his life. She felt a pang of jealousy toward the woman she never met, but whom she knew was more of a mother than she herself was.

"Where is that, exactly?"

"Near Ottery-St. Catchpole in Devon." Petunia nodded. The small talk continued and Petunia learned Harry'd had a girlfriend last year in school. Her name was Ginny, his friend Ron's sister. When Petunia asked why he ended things, Harry merely shrugged and his ears turned pink. She knew, even if Harry didn't, that things really hadn't ended between them. She also found out that he played Quidditch and that he was actually very good at it. Petunia remembered her sister's inane ramblings about the sport and simply couldn't grasp the idea of sport on broomstick. In forty-five minutes, she and Harry covered news from six years at Hogwarts. It was a pity, really, that it took his leaving for her to learn this much about him.

When the clock chimed at 11:45, there was a loud crack in the kitchen followed by the sound of someone falling to the floor.

"Bloody hell, Hermione! You were supposed to put us in Harry's room," stated the voice of a young man Petunia assumed was Ron Weasley.

"Well, Ron," began the girl, "seeing as how I've never actually been here before I think I did a fairly good job of Side-Along Apparation." Her tone reminded Petunia of a haughty teacher of Dudley's.

"Yeah, well you still landed us in the wrong place. Now we'll probably have to run into that fat-arse uncle of his and Harry's cow of an aunt."

"Hello, there," interrupted Petunia. Ron's face and ears turned scarlet. "Harry's right here." She stepped aside to show them Harry, whose face, she noticed, lost all of its previous stress. He wore the biggest smile Petunia had ever seen and she watched while he ran to his friends and embraced them both in a warm hug.

"How are you, Harry?" the girl asked. "Have you had a good summer?"

"Uh, well, it's been..." Harry paused and looked over at Petunia. "It's been eventful. Ron, Hermione, this is my aunt Petunia. Petunia, this is Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. My best friends." He smiled again.

"How nice to meet you," Petunia said graciously. Ron nodded, his ears still red from earlier.

"Nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Dursley," Hermione said, holding out her hand to Petunia. Both of the newcomers gave Harry quizzical looks Petunia couldn't help but notice. Petunia shook the teenagers' hands and motioned for them to sit down.

There was an uncomfortable silence as the four of them sat waiting for the clock to strike midnight.

"Harry, perhaps you should tell them," Petunia stated, nodding towards Ron and Hermione.

"What happened, Harry?" Hermione asked her eyes wide in worry.

"Um, well, I learned something about myself a few days ago." Harry ran a nervous hand through his untidy hair.

"Are you a bloody descendant of Merlin now, Harry?" Ron smiled at his witty question. Petunia noticed Harry didn't return Ron's smile, which soon faded as the boy realized something was amiss.

"Harry? You're related to Merlin?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"Uh, no. Not quite." Harry stood from his seat and went over to the fireplace. "Well, Hermione, you remembered everything from History of Magic, so what do you remember about The Guardian of Merlin and the Rosewood Puzzle Box?" Silence answered Harry's question. Hermione's mouth fell open and Ron began babbling incoherently.

"It's a legend, Harry. That's all. No one knows for sure if it even exists," Hermione told him, having recovered from her initial shock.

"And if it was real," Ron added, "there's no way to know who the Guardians are. There's only one at a time."

"How did you remember that?" Hermione turned to Ron, appearing more shocked that Ron knew that fact than she was that Harry brought up the topic. Her face softened and she grinned shyly at Ron.

"I did have to take the bloody History of Magic OWL exam without you, Hermione." Ron blushed attractively, making Petunia smile in spite of herself at the display of young love.

"You know one," Harry spoke up, tearing his friends' eyes from each other. "Actually, you've known two."

"What? You're a nutter Harry." Ron shook his head not wanting to listen to Harry.

"Harry..." Hermione began.

"Dumbledore and me." Harry's voice was a touch above a whisper, barely heard over the light breeze coming in through the window. "Dumbledore was one. And now I'm his replacement."

"Bloody hell, Harry! You...you get all that..." Ron stammered.

"You'll get Merlin's knowledge, Harry," Hermione finished.

"And that of all the other Guardians, too." At Harry's statement, Ron's mouth dropped open, resembling that of a large-mouth bass.

"Holy bloody hell!" Ron shouted.

"Ron, language," Hermione reminded him, nodding in Petunia's direction.

"Oh, don't worry about that, Ron. Dudley uses much more colourful language sometimes," Petunia pointed out with a smile.

"So, why are you being so nice to Harry now?" Ron angrily asked Petunia, his face contorted with anger. "Just because he's leaving, isn't it?"

"Ron!" Hermione shouted. "That's none of your business!"

"Hermione, Ron, I know what you must be thinking and I don't blame you one bit." Petunia's eyes darted from Harry to Ron and then to Hermione. "We have worked some things out, but he can tell you himself." She stood up to leave but was stopped by the chiming of the clock.

'Bong...'

Everyone's head turned toward the clock.

'Bong...'

Petunia sat down in the nearest chair.

'Bong...'

Hermione began twiddling her thumbs nervously.

'Bong...'

Harry's leg started jumping and tapping to an unheard beat.

'Bong...'

Ron put an arm around Hermione, pulling her close to him on the sofa.

'Bong...'

A wind picked up outside and rattled the shutters on the window.

'Bong...'

A green flash came from the area around the fireplace.

'Bong...'

A rush of wind came into the room, blowing papers into the air.

'Bong...'

A large wooden box flew into the room, landing on Harry's lap.

'Bong...'

A smaller parcel blew down onto the floor at Petunia's feet.

'Bong...'

All four of them stood up from their seats, Harry's box falling to the floor with a muffled thud.

'Bong...'

Pink and blue sparkles appeared around Harry and Petunia, exploding into bright colours before dissolving into nothing. All four of them stared around the room, eyes wide in amazement.

"Well, I guess the Charm's ended," Harry stated.

"Well, yeah, Harry, that's rather obvious," Ron answered cheekily. "Should we shove off, then?" Ron walked over to Harry's trunk and levitated it off the floor.

"Uh, Ron, I'd rather stay and open these here," Harry replied softly before Ron set the trunk back down on the floor. "I think she and I owe it to each other, yeah?" Harry turned toward Petunia. "Me first?" Harry picked his box off the floor and sat back down in his chair with a smile on his face. "It's my birthday, right? You are going to watch me open my present, aren't you?"

"Uh...well, sure, Harry. Right, Hermione?" Ron went back to the sofa and pulled her onto his lap where she settled herself comfortably. Petunia couldn't help seeing the look that passed between the two and Harry's reaction to their proximity. Hermione caught the look in Petunia's eye and slid off Ron's lap, sitting demurely at the other end of the sofa.

"Well, go ahead, Harry," Petunia began, "let's see what the Puzzle Box looks like."