Tea and Sympathy

Arabella Figg shoved Mr. Tibbles off her lap and shuffled over to answer the doorbell. Peering cautiously through one of the lace-curtained windows which flanked the entrance, she quickly straightened up and then threw the door wide open.

'Harry,' she exclaimed, 'I'm so pleased you could come! Now just step over Anabelle and Honeycat and sit yourself down.'

'Thanks for inviting me to tea, Mrs. Figg,' said Harry, following her into the dusty, cat-filled sitting room and taking a seat on the tartan sofa.

'I thought you might want an excuse to escape from the Dursleys' evil clutches,' she said, smiling.

Seating herself in her customary armchair, she turned and busied herself with a tarnished silver tray full of tea things.

'Well, yes,' Harry admitted. 'I've been back for barely twenty-four hours and they're already driving me crazy.'

He accepted a cup of milky tea. 'But I'm not going to be staying there long,' he added darkly.

Mrs. Figg started at his tone of voice but continued as if she had heard nothing out of the ordinary. She had been steeling herself for this conversation ever since Dumbledore's funeral, and she wasn't going to be rushed.

'Chocolate frog?'

'Yes, thanks,' responded Harry in surprise, taking one from the proffered plate.

'I wanted to give you something nice for your tea after all those years of week-old cake,' she explained. 'Especially now, what with everything that's happened ... '

She couldn't help herself, blast it! Her lower lip had started trembling.

Harry hastily put down his teacup and frog, and reached forward to take her hand.

'It's all right, Mrs. Figg. We have to accept that Dumbledore's gone. We'll never forget him... I know I'll miss him every day, but ...there's nothing we can do,' he finished softly, looking down at the floor.

'Oh, my boy,' she sighed, 'if only it were that simple. You see, Albus took me into his confidence a long time ago. I know that there is a great deal more yet to be done,' she said, nodding furiously, 'and that you are the one who must do it.'

To cover his confusion, Harry leaned back into the sofa, accidentally squashing Mr. Tibbles and causing a feline chain reaction that quickly cleared the room.

'So why would Albus Dumbledore choose to confide in me?' she continued after the dust and fur had settled. 'Perhaps you didn't know that at one time Albus was my brother-in-law?'

'Uh, I think I remember hearing something about a brother from Mad-Eye Moody ...' Harry began, still reeling from this unexpected development.

'Aberforth Dumbledore. My dear Abie ....' Mrs. Figg smiled fondly in reminiscence. 'He never held it against me that I was a Squib -- quite the reverse, in fact. He said it gave me the innocent charm of a Muggle combined with the appeal of an experienced witch!' Sighing, she poured fresh tea into their cups.

'...and he always raved about my Bubble and Squeak ...' she trailed off wistfully. 'At any rate,' she continued, pulling herself together, 'you understand the connection. Albus Dumbledore trusted me as a member of his family and chose to confide in me because I was unlikely to be a target;

I am essentially invisible in the wizarding world.'

'When you came to testify at my trial,' recalled Harry, 'the Ministry didn't even know that you lived in Little Whinging.'

'That's right. So I felt confident enough to invite you here today in order to give you the message that Dumbledore entrusted to me.'

'You have a message from Dumbledore?' stammered Harry. 'For me?'

Without another word, Mrs. Figg rose creakily, crossed the room, and slid a large, heavy-looking bronze box from the mantelpiece. She carried it over to the sofa and deposited it on the table in front of Harry.

'Please, open it. The contents are yours -- willed to you by Albus Dumbledore.' She peered nearsightedly at him through her wisps of frizzy hair. 'He made me promise to sit with you. He didn't want you to be alone, you understand?'

Harry nodded his acknowledgement distractedly and pulled the box closer. The dusty, jewelled lid creaked as he swung it open. Inside, on a bed of purple velvet, were laid a piece of folded parchment and a single, shining phoenix feather. With nervous fingers, he unfolded the parchment to find a note written on the inside in Dumbledore's unmistakeable, slanting hand and one small piece of much older parchment, covered in ornate calligraphy. He examined the letter first.

Dear Harry,

If you are reading this message, then the time is drawing near

for you to take decisive action. In order to do so effectively,

you must be apprised of certain facts and reminded of certain

responsibilities.

You know that my belief in you has always been unshakeable.

You have inherited the true spirit of Godric Gryffindor; his

courage and resourcefulness live on in you. I have faith that

when the time comes, you will find the strength to do

what is right. In return, I ask that you have that same

faith in me.

Trust my judgement and accept the truth -- Severus Snape is not

your enemy. Whatever wrongs he has committed, he has committed for

the cause of good. This cause unites you both, and it will ultimately

require that you cooperate in order to succeed against Voldemort.

You have learned that the gift of love is your most

powerful protection against evil. I ask you to remember that love

and forgiveness go hand in hand.

Yours sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

'H-how can he ask ...' Harry began, his hands shaking. 'He couldn't have known when he wrote this that Snape would ...' he trailed off, and looked up into Mrs. Figg's cloudy eyes.

'He knew,' she said simply. 'He always believed in Severus Snape and was willing to die to protect him.'

'What do you mean, protect?' Harry retorted angrily, tossing the parchment aside onto the table. 'Snape murdered Dumbledore and betrayed us all!

He's probably somewhere laughing it up with Voldemort right now!'

'And that's exactly where we need him to be,' said Mrs. Figg quietly.

'Right there by You-Know-Who's side, ready to help stick the knife in at the proper moment. Severus has sacrificed a great deal for the Order ...'

'How can you talk about his sacrifice?' Harry shouted, cutting her off. 'What about Dumbledore? What about all the innocent people who are being killed off every day? What about my parents?'

Mrs. Figg reached over and wordlessly handed Harry the second, smaller piece of parchment. Unwillingly, Harry turned his attention to it.

As he read, his face turned deathly white.

'What is this?' he whispered. 'What does this mean?'

'It's Dumbledore's way of proving to you that Severus Snape can be trusted. It's a copy of the Prince family tree. You can see that your mother Lily and Severus Snape share the same grandparents. I'm sorry, dear,' she added.

'My mom is Snape's cousin? I'm related to that ...that ...' Harry sputtered.

'Yes, Eileen Prince was your great-aunt, and her Muggle sister was your grandmother.'

'So what difference does it make to him if our families are related?

He's never exactly welcomed me to the family with open arms,' Harry sneered.

'It's quite simple, my boy. When Voldemort murdered Lily, Severus lost the only friend he had ever known, and his last surviving relative. Your mother was one of the only people who showed Severus any kindness at Hogwarts.'

'But that can't be right, said Harry. 'I saw one of Snape's memories of my mom in Dumbledore's Pensieve, and he called her a Mudblood.'

'From what Albus told me, Lily was a good friend to Severus until they had a falling-out at the end of his fifth year. He said they often studied together and shared summer holiday time.' She paused for a second and took a deep breath. 'Whatever it was, don't you think you ought to accept the evidence that Albus has provided? He wanted you to understand that after Lily's death, Severus genuinely repented of his involvement with the Death Eaters.'

Harry sat back, looking thunderstruck.

'I ...don't really know what to think ...or what to believe. It doesn't seem possible that Snape is still working for the Order...or that Dumbledore allowed himself to be killed...I-I just don't know,' he faltered, looking at a complete loss.

'Well, my boy, right there in front of you is the advice of the greatest man either of us is ever likely to meet. Reflect on it and accept the wisdom of it. That's all I can suggest,' said Mrs. Figg.

Harry's head drooped low over the parchment, seeming to reread it, but she could sense the misery and desperation welling up in him as if it were her own. She stood up quickly then and settled her feet into her slippers.

'Don't forget, Harry,' she added softly, reaching down to place the forgotten phoenix feather on the table, 'sometimes there's more to a message than meets the eye.'

'And now,' she announced in ringing tones, 'I am going to the kitchen to give my kitties their tea.' Whereupon she shuffled out of the room without a backward glance.

Once in the kitchen, she busied herself with tin opener and water dishes, directing the flow of traffic until she heard the front door slam and footsteps pound down the gravelled walk. Then, she walked slowly back into the sitting room and began clearing away the dishes.