Disclaimer: Meesa not owns Harry Potters, nosa sir!

Previously: "You see Harry, I have a few questions for your relatives." Minerva's gaze darkened as anger slightly tinged her expression, "And if I am not satisfied with their answers, there will be hell to pay."

~o0O0o~

If one were to look at the windows of Number 4 Privet drive, they would likely have seen nothing out of the ordinary on most evenings. On this particular evening, however, one would see the rather angry face of one Petunia Dursley. Her face would occasionally peer out between dull purple curtains and glare out the window, appearing to all as though she were mad at the street for simply being there.

But Mrs. Dursley was not angry at the street. She was waiting for the object of her anger to arrive. He'd be in his cupboard until he was nothing but dust if she had her way. He, of course, was referring to her nephew.

When she'd returned for the petrol station, she'd expected to find her husband, belt in hand, standing over the small for of her sister's spawn. But she had instead found him sitting on his arse and the freak was nowhere to be seen. She'd eventually managed to get him to say what he'd done. Petunia had been furious. She'd made her husband do all of the freak's chores. How dare he? How dare he allow that abomination in their house? She'd spent nearly eleven years trying to make the boy so miserable that every last drop of that magic in his eyes would dry up.

Now she had to end this before it was too late. She kept looking out the window, not knowing if they'd approach by land or air. But as soon as she saw them she'd be ready. Finally, the time had come. Petunia had happened to look out the window just in time to see an abnormally large bus let off the boy and a woman she could only assume to be another freak.

~o0O0o~

Nearly as soon as Harry's luggage was off of the bus, the front door to Number Four slammed open. His aunt's furious visage approached towards them like a great tidal wave. "You," she glowered at Professor McGonagall, "will leave my property at once!" His aunt spoke in a loud whisper; Harry supposed that she didn't want to make a scene any bigger than it was already.

But if Petunia Dursley was a tidal wave, then Minerva McGonagall was a mountain. She stood stock-still. To Harry, it looked as though every part of the woman, from her hair to her shoes, absolutely despised his aunt. "You listen here," began Professor McGonagall in a dangerous tone, not bothering to lower her voice in the slightest, "You are going to invite me into your house. We are going to have a discussion like civilized adults. Do I make myself clear?" When Petunia brought her hand up, already with a finger extended to point in any direction that wasn't her house, the professor cut her off, "I needn't remind you that if you send me away I am fully capable of forcing my way in." Now to Harry, this was very easily identified as a bluff. The Deputy Headmistress had already explained that doing magic in front of muggles that didn't already know of its existence was strictly prohibited. It appeared, however, that his aunt was not aware of this.

The words had an immediate effect on Mrs. Dursley. She paled significantly and, only for a second mind you, glanced down at the witch's hands. "Y-yes, of course," Petunia ground out in a stutter, "Please… come in…"

Saying nothing, Minerva strode past Mrs. Dursley with Harry in tow. Once they were safely in the doors, the professor asked Harry to bring his things up to his room while his aunt and her talked. She then started to round on his aunt but stopped short. Instead of bringing his trunk and supplies up the stairs, as she had instructed, Harry had begun stuffing them into a small cupboard under the stairs. Figuring this was simply a storage closet, McGonagall walked quickly over, she told Harry to go play outside and that she would take care of his luggage.

Once Harry was out of sight she began to remove the luggage, much to the disdain of Petunia, in order to place it in more effectively. Once the trunk was removed, McGonagall froze. Inside the cupboard was a very small mat. The mat was covered in a single sheet and the professor was sure she'd spied a spider crawl inside of it. She saw small, broken, toys neatly lining the shelves of the cupboard.

It suddenly hit her. She'd told Harry to put his things in his room and that was what he was doing. It was as if lava was flowing through her veins as anger took hold of the Transfigurations professor. Storming over to the woman of the house, McGonagall took out her wand.

"PUT THAT THI—"

Silencing her with nothing but a look, Professor McGonagall cast a privacy charm to ensure that none of the other occupants would hear. But her casting was a moment too late, as Vernon Dursley had heard the beginning of a shriek that had issued from his wife's mouth and stormed into the room.

"What the devil is going on!" he shouted. Then he saw the professor and paled.

"Sit… Down…" commanded the furious teacher, and Vernon instantly sat in his chair, looking fearfully from the witch to the small piece of wood in her hand. Mrs. Dursley, however, would not be so easily ordered.

"You dare come into MY home and order me?!" shrilled Petunia.

"I dare to order you around because you have proven yourselves to be utterly selfish and borderline abusive when left to your own devices, Madam!" Minerva ended the sentence on a sarcastic note, obviously considering the term 'madam' to be a much to prestigious title for the woman in front of her. "You made him sleep in a cupboard! Merlin's Beard, Pet—"

The female Dursley now stood nearly nose-to-nose with the witch as she cut her off mid sentence, "DO NOT USE MY NAME YOU FREAK OF NATURE!" Her eyes were bright with anger as she shrieked at the severe woman in front of her. "We never even wanted the boy! He could have rotted on my doorstep and I wouldn't have seen fit to even dig him a grave if it hadn't been that the neighbors would have seen him! He should have died that night! Him, his LOUSE of a father and my WHORE of a sis—"

Petunia suddenly stopped. She felt something poke her underneath her chin. She didn't have to see it to know that she had a wand at her throat. "I warn you," threatened Minerva, her voice quivering, "I have never used my wand against a muggle before, but I will spend the rest of my days in Azkaban before I allow you to finish that sentence." She looked to the man still sitting in the chair, "And do you have anything to say on this matter?"

Vernon looked desperately like he wanted to be left out of this. Even he had not known the depths of his wife's hatred of the boy. He had simply not liked the idea that there were people out there that could do things he would never be able to do himself. He'd hated that he was now privy to this knowledge and wanted to keep his son from knowing the same. So he deigned not to open his mouth, he knew that no matter how he tried he would only dig himself deeper in the grave.

Seemingly satisfied with this, she once again commanded Petunia to sit. Once her instructions were followed, she sighed, "I had hoped against hope that I would never have to do this," she spoke mostly to herself but she kept her wand trained on Mrs. Dursley, "To go against Albus's wishes…" The teacher turned her speech back to Lily's sister, "If something does not change immediately," she gave a pointed look at Harry's aunt, who returned a look of defiance, "Then I will be forced to remove him! Leaving everyone in this house at risk!"

Petunia had had enough. She stood back up and shouted at the witch that dared to order her around as though she were a petulant child in need of scolding. "Take him then! I've never wanted that freak here! I have never made that a secret! But you know? I've noticed something!" She raised a finger, as though she had made a discovery, "I've seen your lot approach the boy on the street, but I've never seen a one here on Privet Drive! They don't know where he lives!" She jabbed her finger into the shoulder of Professor McGonagall, "So whatever protection," she spat, "Having him here offers, you can take them and the boy and shove them up the arse of the old fool that thought for one second we'd take any of your freakish kind just to protect ourselves! I'd rather die!" With this, Petunia gasped for breath, looking quite pleased with herself. Then came the voice of her husband.

"Get out."

Petunia turned towards him, happy that he was finally giving her some support on this, only to find him looking at her. "V-Vernon?"

"I said out Petunia." Vernon's eyes held a mixture of emotions, anger and sadness being at the forefront, "You would kick the boy out onto the streets and endanger, not only us, but our son as well?" The man gave a great sigh, "You aren't the woman I married, Pet…"

"Vernon, I—"

But her husband stood, cutting her off, "We'll arrange visits with Dudley, but you cant be here Petunia, not now at least."

Tears brewing in her eyes, Mrs. Dursley turned back on Minerva, "Now look what you've caus—"

"It bloody well isn't her fault Petunia!" yelled Mr. Dursley, "It is yours. Not only did you wish death on a toddler, but you would also send away the only thing protecting our son! And for what? Fear? Anger?" Vernon was getting angry now, "Tell me Petunia! What are you so afraid of that you would leave your whole family, our son, unprotected?"

But Petunia offered no explanation; she could see no wrong in her actions.

Vernon looked down, "Just, just go."

And so, with tears in her eyes, and anger in her heart, Petunia Dursley departed from Number Four Privet Drive.

~o0O0o~

Professor McGonagall was shocked; this had been both the last thing she had expected, and the last thing she had intended. "Mr. Durs—"

"Leave," came the defeated voice of Vernon Dursley as he slumped back into his chair and buried his face in his hands, "Your letter had the date he needed to be at the train station, I'll have him there. So just… leave."

Minerva nodded, canceled her privacy charms and walked out of the house. While she felt bad for Vernon, she did not feel guilty. If she were asked she'd have said she'd done the man a favor. 'But,' she reminded herself, 'at some point he had loved that woman.' With that thought, she stepped outside and, after ensuring that no one was watching, apparated away.

~o0O0o~

Harry was unsure of what to make of the past two months. First his uncle had called he and his cousin to the living room where he gave them grave news. Aunt Petunia was moving away.

At hearing this news Dudley had promptly burst into tears, his first real ones in years come to think of it. "I.. I'm n-never gonna se-ee Mummy again?" he had sobbed, but his father had quickly explained that he would go stay with his mother twice a month.

When Harry had tried to inquire about his own visiting arrangements, Uncle Vernon had given him a look. Not a look filled with disdain or malice, no, Uncle Vernon's eyes betrayed just how sad he truly was. Harry was so caught up thinking about the emotional state of his uncle, that he'd nearly missed when his uncle gave him permission to both take Dudley's second bedroom and to practice magic! Of course Vernon hadn't actually used the word. He'd actually told him to go work on his school material, but still!

Then came Harry's Birthday, and while he hadn't gotten any gifts, his uncle had bought him and Dudley a premade cake from the local grocer. All in all, Harry had to call this his best birthday ever, if only by default.

Now they were on their way to Kings Cross so Harry could get onto the train to Hogwarts. They were arriving somewhat early, on Harry's insistence, so that he could try to find Hermione.

As luck would have it, Harry spotted the familiar bushy hair of his friend nearly as soon as his sneakers made contact with the pavement. A large smile broke onto the boy's face and he called out to her. "Hermione!" but she seemed not to hear him. Bidding a quick goodbye to his uncle and cousin, Harry grabbed his trunk and Oberon's cage, put them on a trolley and ran off into the crowd to catch his friend.

He managed to catch site of her rounding a corner a little ways up. When he made it to the same corner, however, he ran face first into the front of a man with long blonde hair. The impact jostled his luggage and caused Oberon to screech in protest. Harry quickly calmed the owl and turned to apologize to the man, who it seemed had barely budged.

"I'm sorry sir I wasn't wat—"

"My word," the man had cut Harry off, "Would you be, Harry Potter?"

Looking up into the man's eyes, Harry instantly decided that he didn't like him. The man seemed to notice this as the cold smile that had been marring his, admittedly fair face, began to droop.

The man held out a gloved hand, "Lucius Malfoy," he introduced himself, "My son is in your year Mr. Potter." The cold smile returned to full force now, "Do try to befriend him, he oh so needs a good influence like you."

Harry nodded slowly but inwardly decided that he wanted nothing to do with this man or his son, and the smile drooped again. Lucius Malfoy nodded curtly and walked quickly past Harry and disappeared into the crowd.

So, with a confused look on his face, Harry continued down the train station, looking both for his friend and his platform.

Platforms Five and Six. No sign of Hermione. He hadn't realized she could move so fast.

Platforms Seven and Eight. He thought for a moment that he had spied bushy brown hair around the next platform.

Platforms Nine and Ten. There she was. "Hermione!" called Harry, and his friend turned quickly around to see him, a smile plastered across her face.

"Harry!" she exclaimed, rushing to embrace her friend in a hug, "I knew we'd see each other here!"

Grinning, Harry began to explain how he'd had his uncle bring him early when he realized something. "Um, Hermione?" he began, "Where is our platform?" He had realized that, while he had seen platforms five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten. His letter had read, 'Students will board the Hogwarts Express, which departs from Platform Nine and Three Quartersat eleven o'clock.' Harry had not seen any platforms other than whole numbers!

Hermione smiled at him again, "Professor McGonagall forgot to explain it to you," she started, "She explained it to me while we were at my house, but we were rushed out of your house so fast, she never got the chance." Hermione then pointed at the brick pillar between Platforms Nine and Ten, "It's right through there."

Harry looked at her for a moment, seeing if she found anything wrong with that statement. After a moment he decided to voice his opinion, "Hermione, that's a wall."

Huffing, Hermione grabbed her companion by the wrist and pulled him to the column, then, she shoved him. Harry had expected his back to come into contact with solid brick. One can imagine his surprise then, when this did not happen. Instead Harry continued falling, landing, back first, on the ground. What he saw, though it was upside down, amazed him.

Witches and wizards of all ages were chatting all around the station. Many older ones, Harry assumed these were the parents, were showing their children various spells and wand motions. Perhaps they were giving the children a taste of what they would be learning. There were so many people that it boggled Harry's mind. Then he saw it. A long, gorgeous, steam locomotive with the words Hogwarts Express emblazoned on the side.

Harry may have already visited Diagon Alley, but it was at this moment that Harry truly felt magical.

~o0O0o~

AN: The Petunia-yelling scene actually made me angry just typing it! She's just a horrible woman!