Harry Potter and the Enchanted Scroll

Chapter 2- Mrs. Figg

Mrs. Figg stomped over to Harry Potter, who lay motionless on the ground. "You stupid boy... you could have killed yourself," she said angrily. She picked up his broomstick and his invisibility cloak off the ground. "Well get up boy. I haven't got all night. Come inside now." With that, she turned towards the house and went inside.

Harry managed to lift himself up from the ground and stopped to consider his options. He could make a run for it but he wouldn't have his broomstick or his cloak or he could go into the house and explain how he ended up in Mrs. Figg backyard at three in the morning. Deciding he couldn't leave his prize possessions behind, he slowly walked to the house and entered.

The first thing he noticed was that the house still smelt like cabbage. He noticed his broomstick and cloak on the kitchen table. He could hear someone banging around in the next room, as if looking for something.

Mrs. Figg walked into the kitchen carrying a very large and very old book. She set it down on the table. "Well sit down boy, I don't have all night," she said. She opened the book and flipping through it.

Harry cautiously sat down in one of the chairs. "Mrs. Figg... um about being me in your backyard.... um I was umm..." Harry fumbled, trying to think up a good reason. He brought his hand up to his forehead to wipe some blood from a cut.

"Hush up, boy," Mrs. Figg said, irritated. She continued to look through the book for the several minutes before exclaiming, "Eureka! I've found it." She reached into her robe and pulled out a wand.

Harry's eyes widen in surprise. "Mrs. Figg?" he asked.

She pointed her wand at him and yelled "Laceratis Mendus!" Several sparks shot out of her wand in Harry's direction.

He reached up to touch his cut and found that it was gone. He looked up at Mrs. Figg in astonishment. "How did you... are you a witch?"

"Of course I am a witch, you silly boy. You think I'd have a magic wand and a spell book if I was a Muggle." Muggles were what magic folk called non-magic folk. She closed her book and put her wand away. "Now, would you mind explaining what you were doing riding a broomstick in a MUGGLE neighbourhood on a CLEAR night when you could have BEEN SEEN?"

"I um... just wanted to get out and think. And I couldn't have been seen, I had my invisibility cloak on," responded Harry.

"Umf. Your father's cloak didn't prevent me from seeing you. What if you had fell into a Muggle's backyard? Honestly, Harry, how am I supposed to protect you if you go out and do foolish things such as this?" said Mrs. Figg, worriedly.

"Protect me? You're supposed to protect me?" asked Harry.

Mrs. Figg sighed and sat down in a chair. "When Dumbledore brought you here to live with your aunt and uncle, he asked me to look out for you. Therefore, I moved into this neighbourhood and offered to baby-sit you when your aunt and uncle went out."

"But why do you need to protect me?"

"Dumbledore was concerned that if Voldemort ever rose to power, he would come looking for you to try and kill you again. I am here to protect you if such a thing ever happens."

"Oh. Is that why Dumbledore wanted me back here this summer instead of at the Weasley's?"

"Yes, Harry," replied Mrs. Figg. She glanced up at the clock. "You had better get home. It's late." She rose from the table and handed him his cloak and broomstick.

He rose to leave, but turned to face Mrs. Figg before opening the door. "Mrs. Figg, why does Lord Voldemort want to kill me so badly?"

Mrs. Figg gave a sad look. "I'm sorry, Harry. That I cannot tell you. When Dumbledore thinks you're ready, he will tell you."

Harry sighed. "Okay. Thanks for healing me, Mrs. Figg." He opened the door to leave, dejected that no one would tell him the truth.

"Harry...." said Mrs. Figg. "Happy Birthday." She gave him a small smile, which he returned. He walked outside, put on his cloak, mounted his broomstick and took off into the night sky for home.