Geneticus

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: PRIVET DRIVE

The next day was filled with hustle and bustle as the plans that had been made were put into action.

Sage was having kittens as she worried about how she could best quit her Quidditch team without drawing too much attention, allowing her to take over as Quidditch and flying professor at Hogwarts the next year. Ari suggested some sort of career-ending injury, but Sage was adamant that she'd like the option of returning to the professional league one day.

Snape and Dumbledore hadn't been seen since the meeting, as school was still in session for a few more days, and with a dead student there were more than a few things to take care of.

Most of the wizards were preparing to go abroad, eager to gain allies in various parts of the world. The only ones staying behind were Remus and Addie (the upcoming full moon negated Remus's usefulness, and Addie was loathe to leave him), the wizards who worked for the ministry (Arthur and Artemisia), Molly Weasley, who needed to stay home for her children, and Arabella Figg and Mundungus Fletcher, both of whom were tasked with watching over Harry for the summer. And, of course, those who worked at Hogwarts, and Dash, who couldn't leave the Quidditch league without causing a major media uproar.

The most difficult part of these preparations was figuring out how Mulder and Sirius would get to the United States. Mulder couldn't Apparate, and Sirius's face was still out there in the Muggle world, so it wouldn't be wise to attempt an airplane trip. Portkeys needed to be approved by the Ministry, and the Floo Network didn't extend beyond Britain.

But sneaky Mundungus Fletcher had an idea.

"The Underground Floo," he said, matter-of-factly, while Mulder, Sirius and Remus discussed the problem. "Developed by international smugglers ages ago, you know."

Remus frowned. "What do you mean by 'underground?' Is it just because it's illegal..."

Fletcher shook his head sharply. "No, it's *literally* underground. All the fireplaces are buried in small caverns about fifty feet below the surface. Goes under oceans and everything. You can't do huge hops at once -- to get to the Eastern coast of the States you'll have to make probably three stops in between, but it's much harder to get lost on."

He went on to explain that each stop had food, water, and a bed or two, plus ample storage area for whatever was being smuggled, in case the traveler wanted a bit of a rest.

"How do you get into the Underground?" asked Sirius, clearly taking the suggestion seriously.

"From any regular Floo Network fireplace," Fletcher replied, nodding significantly towards the large fireplace to the left. "Just say 'Underground Floo' and it'll take you to whichever stop's closest."

Sirius frowned. "What about getting back? Do Americans use a Floo Network?"

Remus nodded. "They do. I remember talking about this with an American witch about it a year or two back. She'd come over for some information on werewolves...something about a rogue boggart she was trying to track down...anyway, somehow Floo Networks came up and she said they're pretty common over there, since often the distance a wizard has to travel is too strenuous for Apparition."

They thanked Fletcher for his help, then moved on with their plans.

"Has Dumbledore been in contact with the American Secretary yet?" asked Sirius.

Mulder knew that one of the things most worried about in the Order was Sirius's official status of convict and fugitive. Much of the reason Sirius had been elected to follow Mulder back to the States was that while there was still a grand manhunt going on in Britain, it was likely the authorities in America wouldn't be as keen to find him. Dumbledore, however, didn't want to take a chance, and so he planned to speak to the Secretary of Magic (an extra cabinet member unknown to Muggles) and let him in on Sirius's innocence in the hopes that the United States would quietly ignore his entrance into their borders.

"I think his last owl said he had and that everything'll be fine," Remus assured his friend. "Secretary Cruz said they really aren't looking for you anyway, not unless the Ministry alerts them that you've left the UK and are headed their way. We'll just make sure the Ministry still thinks you're here, Padfoot."

Sirius sighed. "Be careful, Moony. I need you safe to watch over Harry for me." He paused, then said, "Speaking of Harry, I want to go visit him before we leave. Is that all right with you, Muggle?"

Mulder nodded. "Sounds fine to me. Will Dumbledore be okay with that?"

Sirius shrugged. "I don't know why he has to know..." Remus sighed heavily at this, but didn't say anything to change his friend's mind.

"I spoke to Arabella a couple nights ago, and she said we could Floo to her house. She lives just a street away from Harry, so it won't be any problem to walk over to Privet Drive."

Remus crossed his arms. "And just how do you expect to get to see Harry? The Dursleys aren't exactly going to welcome two strangers -- or a stranger and a dog," he amended at Sirius's canine pantomime, "who come to see the boy they consider a freak undeserving of visitors."

The Dursleys, Sirius and Remus explained to Mulder, were Harry's maternal aunt and uncle, charged with caring for their orphaned nephew by Dumbledore himself nearly fourteen years ago. They were the worst sort of Muggles, hating everything to do with magic, including young Harry. They had a son of their own, a spoiled fat lard of a boy named Dudley, who had spent much time making Harry's life before Hogwarts quite miserable indeed.

"How old is Dudley?" Mulder asked, an idea creeping into his head.

"He's about the same age as Harry."

"So he's getting to that age where he might start to be interested in higher education? And the age where Universities might start paying attention to promising young students?"

The corner of Remus's mouth quirked upwards. "Just what do you have in mind, Mulder?"

* * *

As soon as it was polite, Mulder and Snuffles stepped out of Arabella Figg's cabbage-reeking house and onto Wisteria Walk. It was just mid-day, and the sun was high. Much to Snuffles's displeasure, Mulder had insisted on using a dog leash to help complete the picture of a normal man out for a walk with his faithful dog. Most of the neighborhood's residents were at work, so this stranger wandering down their street didn't draw too much attention.

He soon turned onto Privet Drive, coming up quickly on number four. Its lawn was frighteningly immaculate. No one should be that attached to grass, Mulder thought with a frown.

As he stood at the top of the drive, Mulder reached into the messenger bag slung across his chest and pulled out a pair of glasses. This little addition to his outfit of a sharp suit, polished shoes and smoothed-back hair completed the image: he looked like a professor.

"Here goes nothing," Mulder muttered to his canine companion. He marched up to the door and rang the bell.

The door swung open and Mulder found himself staring at a face that reminded him of a horse: Petunia Dursley, he assumed. She said not a word, but stared at him expectantly.

"Hello good lady," he greeted in a proper British accent he'd spent the last several days perfecting. "My name is Fox Mulder, and I'm an associate professor from Oxford University. I've come to speak to a Mr. Dudley Dursley regarding his future educational prospects."

Petunia's face lit up instantly, the thought that the esteemed Oxford University was interested in her son taking precedent over any sort of prejudice against strange men who rang her doorbell in the middle of the day.

She looked slightly concerned by the large black dog that followed Mulder inside, but once again her hopes for her son's future outweighed her hesitance.

"Dudley's just upstairs," she said, heading for the staircase. "Studying books for next term I don't doubt. If you'll just wait a moment in the parlor, I'll send him down!"

Mulder stepped into the parlor, which was just as perfectly clean as the lawn; once again he was overcome with a feeling of unnaturalness. The walls were covered with family photos -- a family of three. Nowhere was there any indication of the Dursleys' orphaned nephew; even knowing how the Dursleys felt about Harry, Mulder felt a moment of panic as he wondered if this truly was the right house.

"Any sign of Harry?" he asked Snuffles quietly. Snuffles put his nose to the ground, then barked softly -- he'd caught his godson's scent.

Petunia came back down, head held high and beaming at her visitor. "Dudley will be down in just a moment, he's just preparing himself."

Mulder smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry for simply turning up unannounced, Mrs. Dursley, but I found myself in the area quite unexpectedly. Visiting a charitable alumna, you see. Well, as I walked back to my car I noted the signpost for Privet Drive and remembered quite clearly that you lived here."

Petunia waved her hand, dismissing his apology. "We're always prepared for visitors, Mr. Mulder, think nothing of it. I do wish my husband were home, of course, he'd very much like to meet you. Why, just the other day we were discussing the possibilities that lay before Dudley once he leaves Smeltings, though I must confess we had no idea that the universities would be watching the students this early yet."

Mulder rattled off some malarkey about Oxford keeping a close eye on promising students from such excellent schools as Smeltings, all the while keeping his eyes on the doorway in the hopes that Harry would pass by.

"I myself was recruited by Oxford years ago; it was quite a wonderful experience," Mulder admitted -- the first truthful thing out of his mouth yet.

Petunia began to ask about his degree when Dudley entered the parlor, and Mulder had to choke back a snort of laughter. He'd heard from Sirius and Remus that the boy was astounding in his girth, but Mulder assumed that most of the talk was hyperbole. He could see now that if anything, the stories had understated Dudley Dursley's massive water displacement capabilities. His little head sat perched on top of a neck that seemed to have been placed there as an afterthought. His blonde hair was parted severely, and it was dulled from several days' grime. Mulder felt quite confident that no true Oxford scout would be popping in at the Dursleys' doorstep anytime soon, judging by the vacant look in the boy's beady eyes.

Rising to greet the stated object of his visit, Mulder held out his hand to Dudley. "Hello there, young sir. I'm Dr. Mulder. I assume your mother told you why I've come to see you today?"

Dudley nodded, not quite sure what to do with himself. "Sit down, Dudley," Petunia ordered. Dudley sat, though he continued to look uncomfortable.

As Mulder was about to launch into the little speech he remembered his own recruitment agent spewing out years ago, he felt Snuffles tense next to him. He carefully glanced out into the hallway, where he saw a pair of sneakers flash past the doorway. Putting the second part of the plan into action (the first part had been gaining entrance into the house), Mulder pardoned himself, and suggested that it might be best if he could let his dog outside for a moment.

"I'd hate to take up more of your time, though. Dudley, do you have any younger brothers or sisters? Perhaps they'd like to take Snuffles here for a walk?"

Dudley and Petunia shared a glance, as though they were worried about admitting there was another person in the house.

The decision was taken away from them, however, when Harry poked his head into the room, apparently having heard everything.

"I'll take the dog for a walk, sir," he offered quite casually, though Mulder could see excitement dancing in his eyes, behind his round glasses.

Mulder smiled, but he noticed Petunia looked anxious. Harry seemed to notice this, too, because he was quick to add, "I promise I won't do anything...unnatural to the dog."

Mulder thought this was an odd thing to promise, but he kept his face calm. "I'm sure you won't, son. It's perfectly fine with me; Snuffles gets on famously with strangers."

Petunia's mouth was pressed thin, but finally she agreed. "It'll keep you from disturbing our meeting," she said sternly, as though she were trying to convince someone (Harry or herself, Mulder wasn't sure) that this was a proper course of action.

Harry hurried to Mulder's side, and with a quick wink to the young wizard Mulder handed him the leash. "I'll come find you when we've finished here." Harry grinned widely, though quickly wiped it off his face as he turned back towards his aunt and cousin.

"Come on, Snuffles, let's get you outside before you mess on Aunt Petunia's carpet..." Mulder chuckled as the dog growled lightly in response.

Somehow, Mulder stretched the "interview" out for nearly an hour, during which he was quite sure he wasn't the only one exaggerating the truth or even flat out lying. He finally felt that he could take no more of Dudley's pathetic attempts to impress him, and Sirius and Harry had certainly had enough time to themselves. He ended the conversation as quickly as politeness would allow, and set out down Privet Drive in search of his fellow wizards.

He found Sirius and Harry at a park on Magnolia Road; well, he spotted Harry, at least, sitting on a swing and digging his toe into the dirt below. Sirius was nowhere in sight, not in human nor dog form.

"Hi Harry," Mulder greeted, glancing around carefully. "Where's...?"

"Hello, Mr. Mulder," Harry replied, his head nodding to the swing next to him. It was then that Mulder noted that the swing's seat looked as though something heavy was sitting in it.

"I brought my Invisibility Cloak with me," Harry muttered. "Everyone around here thinks I'm touched anyway, they won't think too much of me talking to an empty swing."

A low voice came from the empty swing in question. "Thanks for distracting the Muggles, Mulder. That can't have been a fun time in there."

Harry nodded emphatically. "Too right. Quite brave of you, really. You'd've been a Gryffindor for sure," he added, and Mulder cocked his head.

"So you've heard about the little revelation Dumbledore dumped on me?"

With a grin, Harry said, "Oh yes, Sirius has been telling me everything that's been going on with the Order and all. You mind if I tell Ron and Hermione? I reckon Ron might know already, if his parents told him, but Hermione won't, and I know she'd find it quite interesting."

Mulder shrugged. "That's fine with me. Hopefully when Sirius and I return from the States I'll have a bit of magic under my belt."

"So you will be coming back, then? With you son and stuff?" Mulder nodded, and Harry looked quite pleased. "Good. It's much better for William to know what he is, and the sooner the better."

"The hardest part," Mulder admitted, rolling his eyes, "will be convincing Scully that her son's not the first wizard in the family." Part of him was not looking forward to giving Scully this information, though he knew that she had to know right away, that he had no hope of keeping his relationship with her if he kept this secret. Much smaller omissions had threatened to tear them apart over the years...

Just then an owl swooped over to them and perched on Mulder's shoulder; it was Archimedes. "You've got an owl, Sirius," Mulder said as he untied the parchment from the owl's leg.

"Read it to me?" the wizard asked, still invisible.

Unfurling the note, Mulder read, "Snuffles and Muggle, Dumbledore's called a last minute meeting before everyone leaves. Get back quick before he figures out where you've run off to." He looked at the swing. "From Addie. Guess we should get back."

Though he couldn't see his friend's face, Mulder suspected he could guess the look of disappointment on his face; it was likely quite similar to the one on Harry's.

The teenager glanced around, confirming that they were quite alone. "Go on and take off that cloak, Sirius. I want to be able to look you in the eye while you promise to get back soon, and safely."

With a soft rustle of cloth, Sirius reappeared. Mulder turned his back and walked towards the edge of the small park, allowing the godfather and son a private goodbye.

Several moments later, a cold nose nudged Mulder's hand. He looked down and saw Snuffles, leash in his mouth, standing at his side, ready to set off.

END CHAPTER SIXTEEN