Of Werewolves and Wanderers

2.

Protectors Unite

"Well, as far as we know, she’s not dead," Black started, but was cut off by a slightly hysterical Mundungus Fletcher who had only heard part of Lupin and Black’s conversation.

"Who’s dead? Is Arabella dead? What happened?" he stammered with a half empty bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewiskey in one hand and a wand, which was emitting amber colored sparks, in the other.

"No one is dead. At least, we’re fairly certain that no one is dead," Black said sharply. "Really, Moony," he said to Lupin, using his school nickname, "I didn’t even know you kept that stuff in the house and I would have thought you’d have enough sense not to let Fletcher drink at a time like this!" Mundungus snorted haughtily at him and retreated to his armchair in the corner. "And I wish you’d have had enough sense to save some for me," Black added in an undertone to Lupin.

Lupin offered a wry smile and said, "Well, you still haven’t told me what happened."

In answer, Black picked up the paper that was still sitting on the doorstep and handed it to Lupin. He looked down at the headlines and read:

Train Crash Kills 12; Injures More

A train traveling from London to Aberdeen crashed last night killing 12 passengers and injuring hundreds more. The injured were rushed to London Hospital early this morning.

What followed was the full story, including the description of the mysterious glass wall, which so far, no one had been able to explain.

"And Arabella was on the train," Lupin said. It wasn’t a question.

"She was," Black answered anyway and the continued. "But she wasn’t killed. She was checked into London Hospital. I called them this evening and told them I was her cousin. They told me that she had been in critical care until this afternoon, but she is now no longer with them."

"Well where is she?"

"They couldn’t answer. I’m guessing they had had some kind of memory charm placed on them because they couldn’t answer any more questions."

"So you think that they…" Lupin started, but his voice trailed off.

"I don’t know, Moony," Black spoke dejectedly. "I don’t know." The two of them stared out the open door to the half moon and stars in the black sky and were silent for a moment. The Black turned to Lupin and asked, "Do you think there’s anymore Firewhisky left, or did Fletcher drink it all?"

* * * * *

Harry Potter didn’t consider himself nosy. In fact, compared to his Aunt Petunia, he had to be positively indifferent, yet he couldn’t help but notice that Mrs. Figg had been gone all morning and when a taxi stopped in front of her house, he moved to the living room so he could have a better view of who got out of the car. He watched as first Mrs. Figg’s cane, followed by a quite ornery looking old woman, came out of the car. And then he saw Arabella. If he hadn’t know that she was a witch, he never would have guessed. She was dressed flawlessly in Muggle clothes. He jeans looked just used, but not old, and the collar of a yellow polo shirt could be seen over the top of her blue fleece jacket. She had long wavy brown hair that had been pulled back in a loose ponytail and she looked like someone who would say a pleasant hello if you passed her on the street. Harry just stared. She looked about the same age as Sirius and Lupin and he could hardly believe that this kindly-looking young lady could be an Auror, one who devoted her life to using whatever powers she could to defeat Dark Magic.

Quite suddenly, as though sensing his stare, Arabella Figg looked directly at him. For a moment she looked quite surprised, but then her face broke into a dazzling smile. Harry quickly turned away, but somehow that smile couldn’t help reassure him.

At number twelve, Privet Drive, as soon as Arabella had placed her bags upstairs in the spare room, she rushed downstairs to confront her grandmother.

"You never told me Harry Potter lived on this street!" she began excitedly.

"You never asked," Mrs. Figg replied. "And I had forgotten he even lived there. He only stays there in the summer." She paused for a moment and then snapped, "How do you know Harry Potter anyway?"

"Never mind that! Where is he the rest of the year?" Arabella rushed on.

"The Dursleys--his aunt and uncle who take care of him--they say he goes to St. Brutus’s Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys, but I don’t believe a word of it. It’s their son who should be sent to--"

"Of course he doesn’t go to St. Whatsit’s Centre!" Arabella nearly shouted. "He goes to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Harry Potter is one of the most famous wizards of all time and he’s why I’m here in the first place!"

Mrs. Figg looked strangely at her granddaughter for a moment and then grinned a slightly toothless grin. Then she began to chortle, then laugh. "The wizard at number four," she choked. "I should have known."

Back at number four, Harry had raced up the stairs to send a letter to Sirius. He knew that his godfather probably already knew that Arabella was staying four doors down from him, but he wanted to write to him anyway. The Dursleys had taken Dudley out to a football game and left Harry with strict orders not to leave the house or else, as his uncle Vernon put it, he would be “locked under the stair,” and would never see his “precious school” again.

"Its not as if I have anywhere to go," Harry thought to himself, as he walked into his room. He said hello to Hedwig, who was dozing in her cage, and sat down with a quill and parchment to write to his godfather.

Dear Sirius,

Hello. I received your letter last night. Hedwig woke me up at three in the morning to give it to me. I woke the Dursleys up and they came in and yelled at me, but had forgotten the whole thing by morning. Did you hear about the train crash? Arabella Figg, who you were going to meet up with, was on the train. Her grandmother, Mrs. Figg, who lives four doors down from me, picked her up from the hospital this afternoon, and she’s staying with her now, but I’ll be you already knew that. It’s very strange to think that there’s another wizard on the street. I hope I’ll see you soon.

Love,

Harry

Harry stuffed the parchment in a envelope and for a moment debated whether to wake Hedwig now or later. He decided on now, as she hadn’t let him sleep the night before, and he shook her cage gently. She opened one beady eye and made a low clucking noise that made it clear that she was rather put off at being woken from her nap. She took the letter, however, and soared though the open window. Harry watched for a long time, even after she had disappeared from sight.

* * * * *

Narcissa was really quite amazed at the mess the small gathering of Death Eaters that Lucius had invited for a dinner meeting had created. He had returned late in the afternoon after his stormy exit that morning and his first words as he entered the Malfoy Manor were, "Narcissa! People…dinner…nap..." He had hurried upstairs not to reappear until that evening, leaving his wife to decode his cryptic instructions. As she wiped down the large wooden table and picked up the plates left by Lucius, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle and McNair, she eavesdropped on the conversation the Death Eaters were having in the next room.

"While Goyle’s blunder put us a step back this morning," she heard Lucius say coldly. She also heard a gulp, which could only have come from Goyle. "Nott’s actions this afternoon have most definitely made up for it." Narcissa stopped moving and strained her ears to hear more.

"It was nothing, Malfoy," Nott replied calmly. "A simple replacing spell that only applies to animals around the perimeter." Narcissa had no idea what he was talking about, and nor, apparently, did the others.

"I can see from the blank looks on your faces that you have no clue what Nott is talking about," Lucius broke in coldly. "Allow me to clarify for you imbeciles. This afternoon Nott had the inspired plan of placing a replacing charm around the Ministry of Magic." He paused for a moment and that said, irritated, "A replacing charm! It moves what ever touches it to a defined location! Nott has set up a replacing charm around the Ministry of Magic that only affects animals! All owls that are sent to the Ministry will end up here!"

In the other room, Narcissa dropped the pile of dishes she was holding, but fortunately, no one noticed as McNair, Crabbe and Goyle were clapping loudly. As she bent down to pick up the dishes they started talking again, but this time, she didn’t wait to hear more and as soon as she had gathered all the plates, she hurriedly walked away, trying to decide what to do.

Narcissa had been a year below Lucius at Hogwarts and had been in Ravenclaw house. Growing up, Lucius had always been kind enough to her. True, he did tend to bully students who were younger, smaller, dumber, uglier, smarter, in a different house, or anyone else for that matter, but he had never done anything to her that caused her to dislike him at all, and he was very rich and handsome. Three years after she graduated, she instantly agreed when he asked for her hand in marriage.

But after being married to him, she began to see a lot more of his nastier side, the side which tortured Muggles and was devoted to the Dark Arts. She would have left him, too, except for Draco, their son. She would do whatever it took to try and keep Draco from growing up to be like his father.

"Hey, mum." A voice suddenly interrupted her troubled thoughts and Draco Malfoy swaggered into the room. "Did you need some help with the dishes?"

"Oh, no thanks dear, I was just finishing up."

"Good," he drawled. "May I have fifty Galleons, then?"

"Draco!" she said, astounded.

"I’m just kidding, Mum," he said dejectedly, sounding rather like he wasn’t.

"Draco, you got an owl today. Did you know that you’re a prefect this year? Why didn’t you tell me? I’m so proud," Narcissa said quickly hoping desperately that this was what a normal mother would say to a normal child, not a child who grew up surrounded by Dark Arts.

"I figured I would be. Do I get any special privileges?" He asked.

"Well, the letter didn’t exactly say, but they want all the prefects and the Head Boy and Girl to arrive at Hogwarts a week early for lectures, and--” Narcissa paused, not quite sure what they could want the students for a week earlier; "--other stuff," she ended lamely.

"Right, I’ll mark that on my calendar then," Draco replied and grabbed a licorice wand from the jar on the counter and swaggered back toward the stairs. Narcissa sighed and began to put away the dishes.

* * * * *

When Sirius saw Hedwig flying out of the woods towards him, he smiled for the first time since he had returned to the shack. He petted Hedwig, who cooed and dropped Harry’s letter in his hand. Sirius pulled the parchment out of the envelope and began to read.

"Damn Dursleys," he muttered to himself and his eyes traveled farther down the page suddenly he gasped and sank into the chair he stood next to.

"Moony!" he shouted. "Fletcher! Arabella’s okay! She’s with Harry!"

Lupin and Mundungus raced down the stairs, each with equal looks of bewilderment written all over their faces.

"With Harry?" Lupin asked, clearly questioning the sanity of his old friend as well as the information. "What on earth is she doing with Harry?"

"Well, she’s not really with Harry, but with her grandmother, on Harry’s street."

"Well, by all the small world coincidences, doesn’t that just beat them all?" Mundungus Fletcher voiced what they all were thinking.

"We should write to her immediately," Lupin started, then paused and said, "Wait, who knows whether this Grandmother of hers is used to owl mail? If we send a letter to Harry, do you think he can get it to her?" Lupin looked quite pale, but he also looked very relieved.

"Good idea," Mundungus replied. "We should just have Harry let her know we’re all here and we’re waiting for her, right?"

"Perfect," Sirius said happily. "I’ll write to Harry right away."

Five minutes later, a rather bedraggled Hedwig, who had been looking forward to a long rest, was flying off again with a letter for Harry clutched in her beak.

* * * * *

Harry himself was in his bed reading his charms homework when Hedwig flew in the window. Harry read the letter from Sirius and was surprised to find that he hadn’t known about Arabella. Sirius, however, had entrusted Harry to pass on a message, so he casually meandered down to the kitchen where the Dursleys were watching TV and eating desert. Harry sat down at the table and stared intently at the TV. He actually had no idea what was going on in the programme, but was planning the best thing to say.

"You know, I saw Mrs. Figg come home with her granddaughter this afternoon," said Harry slowly.

"And why should we care about bloody Mrs. Figg’s granddaughter?" Mr. Dursley asked sharply.

"Oh, I don’t know. I just thought it would be nice if we stopped by and said hello. I’ve never met anyone who’s been in a train crash," Harry said. He could practically see the wheels in Mrs. Dursleys head turning. She’d never met a train crash victim either.

"I don’t see what…" Mr. Dursley started, but Aunt Petunia broke in.

"Boy has a point," she said. "It’d be quite interesting to hear her side of the story, I’m sure."

Harry smiled and settled back. He knew the Dursleys would take him along. He knew Mrs. Figg better than any of them because she used to take care of him when the Dursleys left him behind on family excursions before he went to Hogwarts. He watched as Mrs. Dursley scrambled to find some flowers and a ‘feel better’ card. And then, after pulling Dudley away from the television, Harry and the Dursleys headed down the street to number twelve.

They rang the doorbell and then had to knock twice before anyone answered the door. Mrs. Figg, looking harassed, stepped out and said in a quite unfriendly tone, "What do you want?"

"These are for your darling granddaughter," Mrs. Dursley simpered, holding out the flowers.

"For me?" Arabella asked, elbowing her way past her grandmother and winking at Harry, who grinned back. "Why you shouldn’t have! As you can see, I’m doing quite well. Won’t you come in?"

This was just the invitation Aunt Petunia had been waiting for, and she rushed past both Arabella and Mrs. Figg and made herself comfortable on the couch. Mrs. Figg looked daggers at her granddaughter.

"Now why did you have to do that? Once you get these people in, you never get them out," Mrs. Figg whispered.

Arabella looked down at Harry, who was still standing on the doormat, and said with a smile, "Hello dear, my name is Arabella Figg. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced."

"Harry Potter," Harry replied, sticking out his hand.

"It’s a pleasure, a real pleasure," Arabella laughed, and turned to join the others in the living room.

Several cups of coffee and many retellings of Arabella’s story later, the Dursleys had overstayed their welcome and Mrs. Figg was giving her granddaughter a look that quite plainly said, "You got them in, and you get them out. Now."

Arabella caught her grandmother’s eye and nodded. She then turned to Harry and said, "Harry Potter, I’ve heard so much about you."

The Dursleys stared, alarmed at this sudden and unexpected comment.

"Heard about him?" Uncle Vernon stammered. "How have you heard about him? You must be mistaken--” Arabella cut him off.

"Oh, no, I’m quite sure it’s him. He’s really quite famous, you know. Everyone in the wizarding world knows his name." She smiled sweetly at the horrorstruck expression on the Dursley’s faces. "How are you enjoying school, Harry?" she asked.

"Oh, its fantastic," he said, biting his tongue to keep from breaking out laughing at the looks on the Dursley’s faces.

"I remember when I was at Hogwarts…" Arabella started, but this was enough for the Dursleys. As one person, they bolted from the room, and then Arabella and Harry really did burst out laughing.

"Thank you for that tasteless display of humor," Mrs. Figg said stiffly. Harry and Arabella stopped laughing abruptly. "That must have been about the most effective way of getting rid of the Dursleys I have ever seen." Mrs. Figg smiled as Harry and Arabella started laughing again.

"So, Harry," said Arabella, gasping for breath. "What did you want to tell me?"

"How did you know I wanted to tell you something?" Harry asked.

"Instinct," Arabella replied seriously, tapping her head. Then she smiled and said, "And I seriously doubt that the Dursleys would think up bringing me flowers and a card all by themselves."

"When I saw you, I sent a letter to Sirius, and just this evening I got a reply," Harry explained. "He and Lupin, and Mundungus Fletcher, they all are waiting for you. They thought you were dead," Arabella smiled at that. "And they need you to come as soon as possible."

"I’ll Apparate there tonight. And now, Harry, is there anything that I can tell Sirius for you?"

"Not really, just I wish I could come and stay with him." Arabella looked at him kindly and nodded.

"I’ll see what I can do," she said. "Now, I need to get ready to leave. Can you go back and stay with those…Dursleys? Or will that be a problem?"

"Nah, I can always get back in. They’re too afraid that Sirius will come and turn them into cockroaches if they do anything too awful to me."

"That’s all right, then," Arabella replied, looking slightly put out by the Dursley’s reactions. "I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon Harry. Goodnight."

Harry got up and thanked Mrs. Figg for the nice evening and shook hands with Arabella. He then left number twelve and began to walk back up the street to the Dursleys’.

Twenty minutes later, Arabella had gathered up a small suitcase of some clothes, and some materials she thought might be useful later. She walked downstairs to talk to her grandmother, but when she walked into the living room, she found Mrs. Figg fast asleep on the couch. Instead of waking her, she went into the kitchen and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and scribbled a quick note to her grandmother.

Dear Grandma,

I’m sure you heard me tell Harry this evening that I would leave as soon as possible, and so I’m off. If you need to contact me for any reason, talk to Harry. His owl can find me. Thanks for your hospitality and I should be back soon.

Love,

Arabella

She took the letter and placed it on the table in the living room where Mrs. Figg would be sure to see it when she woke up. She then picked up her suitcase and her wand, and after whispering a few well-chosen words, she disappeared.

* * * * *

Lucius Malfoy had personally taken up the Arabella Figg case. Seeing as Goyle had botched it up the first time, he would do anything in his power to make sure that they made up for lost ground. He had spent much of the evening after the Death Eaters had left at London Hospital interrogating Muggle doctors. After breaking a few weak memory charms, he had found out all he had wanted to know. He was now up in his study pouring over maps of Surrey, and in particular, the tiny town of Little Whinging.

Lucius smirked inwardly and picked up his wand.

"Incendio!" he shouted into the fireplace and flames leapt up. He then picked up a pinch of green powder from a ornately carved bowl on the mantle and tossed it into the roaring flames which instantly turned green as well.

"Goyle!" Lucius called sharply.

"Yessir?" Goyle’s head replied from the fireplace.

"I would just like you to know that your little blunder has been repaired." Lucius spoke as though he had done an incredible favor.

"Yessir! Thank you sir!" Goyle said quickly.

"Are you even going to ask what I found out?" Lucius asked, sounding put-out and a touch disappointed.

"Of course! Um…" Goyle paused, and with a look of deep concentration on his face, asked, "What did you find out?"

Lucius sighed and said, "She is no longer in hospital."

At least this comment registered a look of mild surprise on Goyle’s face. "Where is she then?"

"She is staying with her grandmother in Surrey," said Lucius, satisfied that Goyle had asked at least one intelligent question.

"Then there’s not really anything we can do about her," said Goyle dejectedly.

"Of course there is, you dolt!" Lucius shouted.

"But if she’s with her grandmother--" Goyle started.

"You idiot, her grandmother is a Muggle. And I know exactly where she lives."

* * * * *

At the shack where Lupin, Black and Fletcher were waiting for Arabella, another owl was flying out of the woods.

"This must be our night for owls," Sirius said. "We’ve had more tonight than--"

"Hey, that’s Artemis!” Mundungus had cut him off. “My owl. I sent her with a letter of warning to the Ministry yesterday. I offered our help if the need arose."

"That’s great," Lupin said. "Except for the fact that Fudge has already decided-- hey, what’s wrong with your owl?"

Artemis was flying slower and slower. Her wings flapped listlessly and her eyes seemed to be closed. She slowly flew into the shack and collapsed on the table.

"My god!" Black exclaimed. "She’s dead." Fletcher offered a stream of oaths that the other two had never heard before, and Lupin bent to examine the body of the owl. Slowly, he prodded the stiff body with his wand, muttered something, and a blue light shot out of his wand. The owl disintegrated rapidly before their eyes leaving only the letter she had been carrying.

"I don’t believe it," Lupin said slowly.

"What is it?" Sirius asked in concern.

"This owl has been dead for hours. Maybe even since she arrived at the ministry."

"That’s impossible!" Mundungus said quickly.

"Oh no. For one skilled in Dark Arts, it is quite easy to animate the dead," Lupin answered.

"But the letter?" Black asked staring apprehensively at the unmarked envelope on the table.

"Who knows what kind of charms are hidden in that envelope?" Lupin said in a worried tone.

"Well," said Fletcher, "there’s only one way to find out."

Arabella Figg appeared right outside the door of Lupin’s shack and smiled. She couldn’t wait to see her old friends. She hurried up and knocked on the door. Then she took a step backward just as the entire shack blew up.