Childhood's End

DISCLAMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

================================

CHILDHOOD’S END CHAPTER 2

“It can’t be!” gasped Harry in stunned disbelief, “Mrs. Figg, is that really you?”

“Some people call me by that name,” Harry’s old babysitter replied.

Mrs. Figg paused and then said, “Well either use that wand or put it away, you look silly just holding it like that.”

Harry realized he was griping his wand very tightly and pointing it at Mrs. Figg, “Oh, Sorry,” he said and put the wand back in his pocket.

She slowly looked him over from head to toe and frowned, “Are you OK Potter? You look like hell.”

“What?” said Harry his mind reeling, “I mean yes, I’m fine.”

“Then come along, we don’t have all day,” she said in a business like tone.

“You’re a witch!” Harry gasped.

“A keen grasp of the obvious,” she scoffed.

“You’re my secret keeper!” Harry continued.

It might have been his imagination but he thought she looked a bit startled, she was silent for several seconds and then for the first time in Harry’s memory Mrs. Figg smiled. “Clever boy. Yes that’s right, the Fidelius Charm is still the best way to protect somebody against Voldemort, provided you have a good secret keeper, and in your case you do.”

Harry was impressed, she seemed to be one of the very few in the magical community who could speak Voldemort’s name without flinching. She walked briskly into the house and started for Harry’s room, she seemed to know exactly where it was.

“Well don’t just stand there Potter; I’m not going to carry your trunk by myself.”

“Wait!” said Harry, “Where are we going?”

“The Burrow naturally,” she said, “Albus seems to think you may be down in the dumps for some reason or another and the Dursley house may not be the best place to cheer up. Mind you I don’t have difficulty believing that last part, more tedious people I never met. Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that about your relatives, I’ve always been too blunt; my dear mother scolded me for it when I was a child. Arabella, she said, if you can't be kind at least have the decency to be vague.” Then she stopped half way up the stairs and looked at him, “But if we’re wrong and you’d rather stay here…”

“No!” Harry yelled louder than he’d intended, “I want to go,” he said more softly, “How are we going to get there, Apparate? I know how to do that now.”

Mrs. Figg scowled, “Potter I’m surprised at you, don’t you have any sense of style? How can you even consider something as vulgar as Apparation when there is a beautiful brand new Bentley Turbo in the garage? Vernon Dursley is a thief, a bore, and is about as sharp as a beach ball but I have to admire his taste in automobiles… Sorry, I did it again; I guess I’d make a lousy diplomat.”

As they struggled to load his trunk into the Bentley Harry said, “I still don’t understand, what happened to the storm, and where are the Dursleys?”

“Well,” said Mrs. Figg, “The Dursleys haven’t gone anywhere, they’re right where they always were, it’s you who moved. It all involves how the Fidelius Charm works. You see, there are an infinite number of parallel worlds, some quite similar to the one you’re familiar with and others very different, but only one of them has you in it; so when Voldemort comes looking for you he has only one chance in infinity of finding the right world, in other words zero chance. It follows that the safest way to transport you to the Burrow was to find a world that was identical to our own except there were no people in it, then you and I could temporarily enter it, drive to the Weasleys unobserved and unopposed, and then drop back in.”

“But things aren’t identical,” Harry said, “There is no storm.”

“Why would I want to match that? I hate the rain, my leg has hurt me in bad weather ever since I was injured 4 years ago when Vo… , never mind, the point is there is no way I’m driving all the way there on wet roads and a high wind. Forget it.”

“What about the light?” said Harry, “Everything is too bright and the colors look weird.”

“Ok OK,” Said Mrs. Figg defensively, “So I got the sun’s spectrum a teeny tiny bit wrong, so shoot me. Hey it was a rush job, Albus wanted it done like yesterday and the Fidelius Charm is by far the most difficult and complex one known. I’d like to see what anybody else would get if they tried to make a fine adjustment on such a spell with virtually no time to prepare it properly. Anyway the problem is easily rectified.” She handed Harry a pair of sunglasses and put on some shades herself.

“Let’s roll,” she said.

“But why did you go to all that trouble over me and for such a long time?” Harry said, “And why does Voldemort want to kill me so badly anyway?”

“I don’t suppose,” Mrs. Figg said changing the subject, “You have the key to car do you?”

“Oh no, I didn’t think of that!” Harry said with a sinking feeling, “I don’t have the key and I don’t know where Uncle Vernon keeps it either.”

“No problem,” she said looking at the ignition, “Hmm, a standard 8 pin cylindrical locking mechanism, a piece of cake.” She produced a paper clip from her pocket and seconds later the engine was going.

“Wow!” Harry said, he never thought he’d see the day when crazy old Mrs. Figg would expertly pick a lock even faster than Fred or George could.

“Where did you learn how to do that?”

“In my job you need to know how to do a lot of different things,” she said as she slowly backed the car out of the garage.

“If you don’t mind my asking, what is your job?”

“I thought that was obvious, for the last 14 years my job was protecting you from Voldemort when you were at the Dursleys, or anywhere else except Hogwarts, Albus was in charge there. Your trip to the Quidditch World Cup last year caused me a lot of extra work I can tell you that; the security arrangements were a real headache.”

“I didn’t see any security arrangements,” Harry said.

“Well of course you didn’t,” she said with a trace of pride, “I’m a professional; you weren’t supposed to see any. But I wasn’t always in this line of work, before I got involved in all this cloak and dagger business I was the Defense against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts for 42 years.”

“42 years!” said Harry in something approaching awe, “Lately we can’t keep anyone at that job longer than one year.”

“So I’ve heard,” Said Mrs. Figg in a disapproving tone, “And Professor Lupin was the only one that was any good. It’s shocking how incompetent many modern teachers have become. I don’t blame Albus, he hires the best people he can but today many of the most talented witches and wizards want to go into business not education. Moody, the real Moody, might work out, I hope so, but I’m not sure he’s tough enough, he’s never had to deal with a Category 1 dark wizard.”

“What do you mean Category 1?” asked Harry.

“It’s a measure of innate magical ability, the ultimate potential of any witch or wizard. It doesn’t really tell you how powerful the individual is because that also depends on education which is obviously extremely important; nevertheless it’s a useful scale for some purposes. About 5% are in Category 4 and are only a little more talented than Muggles, The vast majority, about 90%, are in Category 3, roughly 5% have much more ability and are in Category 2. At last count only 11 people are in Category 1, some are dark wizards some are not. Albus is a Category 1, so is your Godfather and so am I.”

“Voldemort must be a Category 1 too,” Harry said.

“No,” Mrs. Figg replied “He’s beyond that, we need a new group for him, for want of a better name call it Category Zero.” For some reason she seemed sad, she avoided his eyes when she said “On planet Earth at the present time only two human beings are in Category Zero.”

Harry could not bring himself to ask the obvious question, he wasn’t sure why but the idea frightened him; he didn’t want to know for certain and he knew Mrs. Figg was grateful he didn’t ask.

“I was wondering about something else,” he said “When I was young you didn’t act like you do now, you were sort of, ah, no offence but you seemed a little bit, well… odd. I guess that was all part of your cover. Right?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said rather quickly, “You might want to put on your seat belt.”

Harry was slammed back into his seat and in just a few seconds the car was traveling much faster than it had ever been when Vernon Dursley was the driver.

“The right front tire feels like it’s a half pound over inflated but that’s OK, I can compensate.” Now that she was behind the wheel of a very powerful automobile Mrs. Figg had cheered up considerably, “Ah, there is nothing more relaxing than taking a drive in a fine car on a beautiful day with no traffic.”

“Yea, relaxing!” Harry yelled over the roar of the engine. In truth Harry was not relaxed, he knew he must have gone as fast on his broom but this felt faster and was much more frightening because this time he was not in control, a frail looking old lady was. He didn’t want her to know how scared he was so he tried to make some casual conversation.

“Since you worked at Hogwarts for so long I was wondering if… there’s a curve coming up… big curve… it goes to the right… curve. CURVE!”

“I see it I see it,” Mrs. Figg said calmly almost lazily, “Don’t be a backseat driver.” She did not slow down. Harry was certain that at this speed there was no way the car could remain on the road, he braced himself for the inevitable crash but with skill that would make AJ Foyt or Richard Petty green with envy she maneuvered through the curve with ease.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He sat in silence as the car raced through a mercifully straight section of highway. His confidence gone Harry decided it was better to keep his mouth shut rather than risk making an even bigger fool of himself. After several minutes Mrs. Figg sensed his hesitant mood and said, “You were going to ask me something.”

“It wasn’t anything important,” Harry said.

“That’s OK, people ask me unimportant questions every day, I don’t mind.”

“Well, I was just wondering since you worked at Hogwarts for such a long time if you knew my parents.”

“I knew them very well,” she said, “They were my students and my friends; I consider that to be the highlight of my teaching career. They were brilliant, absolutely brilliant, both of them, and your parents were not only wonderful wizards they were wonderful people as well. Tom Riddle was my student too but needless to say I’m not proud of that fact. It’s silly but sometimes I can’t help but wonder if his decent was caused by something I did, or maybe something I didn’t do but should have. I don’t really think it was my fault, but sometimes late at night… but such thoughts are pointless.” She sighed, “I wish I could have taught you as well.” She briefly took her eyes off the road and glanced at Harry, “I know what you did last year Harry, your parents would have been very proud of you.”

Harry though about that for a long time before he said anything, he thought about what he had done and compared it with what he wished he had done just as he had a thousand times before in the last month, but this time he imagined his parents judging him too; and It all started to fall in on him again.

“No they wouldn’t,” Harry said under his breath so softly he was surprised she heard him and embarrassed to discover tears rolling down his cheeks.

“YES THEY WOULD!” Mrs. Figg insisted. She slammed on the brakes and brought the car to a halt. She looked him straight in the eye and said, “Harry, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing,” Harry said as he tried to wipe his eyes on his robes as inconspicuously as possible, but the tears were coming faster than he could dry them, “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” she said, “Talk to me Harry,” but Harry just shook his head and remained silent. “It’s not your fault that Cedric is dead.”

“He’d be alive today if I hadn’t told him to take that stupid cup,” he said, “But it’s not just that, it… oh forget it.”

“Harry if you keep this bottled up it will destroy you, talk to me. Please!” She pleaded.

Slowly and painfully Harry said, “I hate it when people say I’m a hero because I know it’s a big lie. The truth is I’m weak; I should never be trusted with anything important. Everything was different last year, I’ve been in danger before and I’ve even thought I was going to die before, but I never wanted to die before. When I received the Cruciatus Curse it hurt so bad I wanted to die, I really did. I never knew, I never dreamed anything that painful was even possible. If Voldemort had done it a few more times I don’t think I… I don’t think I could have stood it anymore. I think I.., I think I would have done anything just to get him to stop, anything, and that includes betraying Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, anybody, everybody.”

“Harry,” Mrs. Figg said earnestly “I want you to listen very closely. Look at me Harry, are you listening?”

Reluctantly Harry looked up, “Yes,” he said.

“In my entire life,” she said, “I’ve received the Cruciatus Curse once, just once. I was about 10 years older than you are now and the dark wizard that attacked me was far less powerful than Voldemort, all Cruciatus Curses are not the same you know, the stronger the wizard the greater the agony, nevertheless I remember it like it was yesterday. The pain nearly drove me insane. I told the dark wizard everything I knew. Fortunately at the time I didn’t now many secrets that would seriously harm our cause but if I did I would have told them. Afterwards nobody called me a coward because they knew they would have done much the same. Actually I did better than most; at least I didn’t spend the rest of my life in St. Mungo’s. I can’t even begin to imagine what it would feel like to receive the Cruciatus Curse from the most powerful dark wizard in a thousand years; and when he did it to you I’m quite sure he was not pulling any punches as he sometimes does when he doesn’t want to permanently derange one of his followers. Yet you received it twice and still had the strength to overcome the Imperious Curse, it is absolutely mind boggling, unprecedented. Voldemort must have been humiliated and probably a bit frightened at your toughness, I know for a fact from intelligence reports that the Death Eaters were. We live in a crazy world Harry and sometimes it seems like no good deed goes unpunished, but the craziest thing of all is that you’re the one doing the punishing. Harry it’s ridiculous, you’re holding yourself up to impossibly high standards, you’ve done as much as any human being can and a hell of a lot more than I would have thought credible. So stop beating up on yourself, that’s an order! OK?”

Then in a soft voice and a twinkle in her eye she said, “Otherwise floggings will continue until morale improves.”

In spite of himself Harry smiled a little and said, “Ok.”

“Good,” she said, “Here eat this, you’ll feel better.”

For some reason Harry almost laughed when he looked at the Chocolate Frog; and she was right, he did feel a little better.

“You’re a real mess you know that,” she said pushing his bangs out of his eyes, “When was the last time you had any sleep?”

“It’s been a while,” Harry admitted, “Hermione sent me a real interesting book on Monday morning and I sort of forgot to go to bed last night,” He looked at his watch “Gee, I guess it’s been 36 hours.”

“Monday?” said Mrs. Figg with a frown, “Harry, you’ve been awake since Monday?”

“Yea,” he said, “I wanted to finish the book; I guess I got a little carried away.”

“Harry,” she said gently, “This is Thursday.”

“No, no, that can’t be, it’s Tuesday.”

“Harry,” she said, “I can assure you today is Thursday. You’ve been awake for 84 hours.”

“Thursday?” Harry said in a confused voice, “But…but,” He wondered how long he really had been reading his parents book, it didn’t seem long at all but …

“Harry!” Mrs. Figg said almost in a panic, “Have you been using invigorate charms?”

“Ah, well, sort of, yes a little,” Harry confessed sheepishly.

“Damn! Harry you’ve got to stop that!” she said in an apprehensive manner “You’re going to burn yourself out! You’re too important for that sort of nonsense.”

“I just wanted to finish the book and not waste time,” He said.

“Harry, wasting time is an important part of living,” she said, “Especially when you’re only 15. You shouldn’t be robbed of your childhood.”

“But I had so much to do,” He protested.

“Good,” she said with a smile, “I think you will find there is no pleasure in having nothing to do; the fun is having lots to do and not doing it.” Then she looked at him closely and put her hand on his shoulder “But not wanting to waste time isn’t the real reason you’re afraid to sleep is it? Harry I know you must have been having bad dreams, but stopping yourself from sleeping is not the way to prevent them; we’ll find a better way, I promise.” Then more to herself than to Harry she said, “Oh boy oh boy, kiddo I need to get you to a nice cozy warm bed pronto!”

She stomped down on the accelerator and they were off again. After a few minutes she said, “We’re coming up to Ottery St. Catchpole, it’s time to reenter, you may feel a slight bump.” Harry felt himself go weightless as the car fell several feet down onto wet asphalt, he heard a huge crash that sounded like thunder and then the rain started coming down in buckets. As the car slowed he smiled as the Burrow came into view. They must have been alerted somehow of his arrival because he immediately spotted Hermione and all the Weasleys except Ginny and Percy standing on the front lawn holding umbrellas and waiting to greet him. He was glad to see that Charlie was home because he wanted to talk to him. Then Harry noticed a gorgeous young lady also holding an umbrella and he wondered who she was until with a shock he realized it was Ginny, it was amazing, she looked…different. The car had almost come to a stop when Harry said, “Ah, Mrs. Figg, you’re not going to tell Ron are you?”

Mrs. Figg seemed puzzled, “Tell Ron What?”

“Well… you know,” Harry stammered, “Ron’s my best friend; I don’t want him to think I’m…some sort of a crybaby… or something.”

Mrs. Figg smiled warmly and said, “Oh Harry of course I won’t tell Ron, not ever.”

Harry grinned and said, “Thanks.”

“Get some sleep Harry,” she said, “I’ll be seeing you again soon.”

“You’re leaving?” he said, “I was hoping you would stay a while.”

“I’m sorry Harry I can’t,” she said, “I’ve got to get back straight away, Albus and I have something we need to attend to, a little, ah, errand.”

He had never heard anybody speak about Professor Dumbledore in quite such a familiar fashion before. He had to ask, “Do you know Professor Dumbledore well?”

Mrs. Figg appeared surprised at Harry’s question, “I should hope so; we’ve been married for 84 years and have 6 kids.”