Chapter 1: The Meeting

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. To them, and to a lesser extent, their son Dudley, they were the shining image of a regular and respected British family. At least, they thought they were, and their neighbors were somewhat convinced. Their lawn was trimmed by exactly three inches, their garden bed had a lovely assortment of radiant flowers, and their automobile was the envy of the neighborhood. With the Dursley family there were no surprises, no anocracies, they had painstakingly ensured that the name Dursley was synonymous with the idealism of Little Whinging.

However, this flawless picture had one stain. One little ungrateful, undeserving, unnatural, and utterly un-Dursley weed in their otherwise spotless garden. Their nephew, Harry Potter. To them, Harry was a bother, dropped on their doorstep and forced to stay with them against any of their wishes. Vernon Dursley even described it as, them being taken hostage. However, the Dursleys did their best to remedy the situation, keeping Harry out of the neighbors' eyes and stomping away at the same abnormality his parents suffered from? Magic. Yet, despite their best efforts, Harry exhibited many of the common traits found in the wizards of Britain. It wasn't long until his own lot dragged off to some crackpot school, the same school his good-for-nothing parents attended, that they were rid of him, albeit temporarily.

However, none of that mattered, not today at least. Over the school year, Vernon and Petunia had gotten news that filled their hearts with parental pride. Their precious diddykins had lost weight and was emerging as the Boxing Champion of Smeltings Academy. Petunia burst into joyous sobs upon hearing the news, while Vernon declared himself unsurprised as Dursley men were often beacons of athleticism. The Dursleys had spent most of the year boasting to their neighbors on their Dudley's grand accomplishment. Now, with Dudley returning in a week's time, Petunia was feverishly working to make the house spotless for when her special little man arrived. So, one could imagine her frustration when the doorbell rang while she was busy polishing the picture frames.

Nevertheless, she straightened herself out and went to answer the door. Hopefully, it was Vernon, who would occasional come home for lunch on a good business day, or Mrs. Kitters, who would stop by for tea and exchange of the neighborhood's latest gossip. At worst, it was either a solicitor, trying to sell some religion or ask for charity.

"Hello, how can I…." Petunia answered, stopping in mid-sentence as she opened the door.

Her heart sank and for once she wished it had been a solicitor. In front of her, in broad daylight for all the neighbors to see, were three wizards, three of her nephew's own lot. From the way they looked, dressed, and appeared, she knew they were wizards. One was an old man with half-moon spectacles, long white hair, and glowing purple robes. Another was a plump woman with bright red hair and freckles, wearing raggedy, hand kittened robes. The last was by far the worst, at least in terms of appearance. His clothes were old and ratty, his hair was wild and unkempt, and his face was scared and weary.

For a moment, Petunia could only stare at the three, dumbstruck and appalled. Finally, she composed herself. "What do you want?" she scoffed at them

The old man kept his calm and even cheerful demeanor, while the other two soured at Petunia's response. "May we come in?" asked the old man.

Every ounce of Petunia desired nothing more than to shut the door in their faces and lock it, but she knew from the look that these three that they would not be bullied or easily warned off, especially if the old man was who she thought he was.

"Come in," Petunia said through gritted teeth, barely hiding her disgust.

As soon as all three were in the house, Petunia swept her gaze through the quiet streets of Privet Drive, ensuring no one saw them enter. Petunia then shut the door and closed the window shades.

"May we sit," the old man asked almost cheerfully.

"You've already intruded on my house, so why not," Petunia scoffed.

The other two stared insulted. The woman looked like she was about to say something but was silenced by the old man's hand.

"Forgive us for this intrusion, but we won't be long. I have a feeling you know who I am?" the old man spoke as he took a seat on the living room couch.

"You're that headmaster. Bumble-something?" Petunia answered, somewhat frightened.

"Professor Albus Dumbledore, but yes," Dumbledore said, seemingly finding a bit of humor in what Petunia said, much to her annoyance. "These are associations of mine. Molly Weasley, she is the mother one of your nephew's dearest friends, and Remus Lupin, one of your sister's old friends."

Upon hearing this, Petunia stared at Lupin, startled. He simple looked away and began observing the wall of pictures. He did look somewhat familiar, maybe she spotted him at Lily's wedding, though the Petunia had tried everything to block that ugly event out of her memory. She was quick to snap out of this.

"I didn't know my sister even had friends," sneered Petunia rudely.

"She never talked about you," Lupin answered quickly, still staring at the wall. "Why aren't there any pictures of Harry?"

"What!" snapped Petunia, seemingly insulted.

"Why aren't there any pictures of Harry on the wall. There's a lot of your son, you and your husband. Why are there none of Harry?"

"What I do with my house is my own business," Petunia replied bluntly.

"Now see here…." before Molly could finish, Dumbledore raised a hand and the room fell silent.

Even if Petunia was to protest or argue, now wouldn't be the time. Dumbledore took a moment before speaking, probably thinking of his words carefully. Finally, he spoke, and whatever anger the other two held for Petunia was momentarily pushed back as both eyes were fixed on Dumbledore. The old wizard's gaze fell on Petunia, who felt a strange sense of fear and resentment.

"Since, you were clearly in the middle of something important, I'll make this quick. It is, with great regret, I must inform you that Harry was involved in a terrible ordeal," Dumbledore's words seem to cause some distress and upset in the two, while Petunia just ignored them. "However, he has shown a level of bravery, even the most experienced of wizards don't exhibit. It is for that reason, that I feel he has earned much-needed support. Therefore, I suggest you allow four of Harry's friends to stay with him for his time here."

At this suggestion, Petunia flared up. Her eyes widened with indignation and her lips pursed. At once, she rose to her seat in protest. "NO!" she shouted to the room. "No, No! Out of the question! Never!"

Molly and Remus rose from their seats, ready to argue, when Dumbledore spoke. "Mrs. Dursley, don't you think your being unfair."

"Unfair! UNFAIR!" anger was filling in Petunia. "You drop him off on our doorstep, force him into our home, force my family in a dangerous situation! Now you expect more to be dropped off! More of his lot!"

"Now I see why Lily never spoke of you," Remus said bluntly.

"And why Harry never talks about you!" Molly said, holding back what seemed like great anger.

Petunia was about speak, when something happened that surprised both Molly and Remus. Dumbledore rose from his seat and a stern expression overtook him. He was staring directly at Petunia, and she felt an unfamiliar and unnerving fear that shook her to her core. Petunia felt like a child, facing the anger or punishment of a parent or teacher. Molly and Remus seemed to react similarly, as neither was willing to speak or interrupt the man.

"Molly, Remus, would you be so kind as to wait for me outside," Dumbledore asked, in a calmer manner. "This will only take a minute."

Without question or hesitation, both rose and kindly exited the house, Molly making sure to give Petunia one last nasty look before leaving.

"Don't talk to the neighbors!" Petunia called-out as the two shut the door.

Now, it was just Petunia and Dumbledore. For a moment, neither spoke. Petunia was afraid to speak, and Dumbledore seemed to be composing his thoughts. The silence was unbearable, and every second of it increased Petunia's growing fear. Finally, Dumbledore spoke;

"Mrs. Dursley, when I sent Harry to leave here, all those years ago, I explained in my letter the importance of him staying here and the sacrifice of his mother, your sister," Dumbledore put a lot of emphasis on your sister and his gaze grew only slightly colder at the mention of Lily. "I thought her sacrifice would be enough to wash away any ill feelings you and Lily had before her death. I was wrong."

"I never asked for him," Petunia said bitterly.

"Harry never asked to lose his parents. He never asked to be a target of Lord Voldemort. Fate is cruel and unwelcoming. Crueler and more unwelcoming to some. However, you see the importance of Harry's stay here. Because of this, I have, to my great shame, allowed certain misgivings to transpire," this caused Dumbledore's expressions to shift to that of regret. "It will be awhile until Harry can forgive me, and longer until I can forgive myself."

Dumbledore soon returned to his stern face. "I kept my distance, I never intervened, because it was never my place. This is still your home, but now I am intervening for Harry's benefit. After what Harry has been through, I feel he has earned a well-deserved rest and support, which clearly your family will not give him. Do you agree."

"No else will stay here," said Petunia firmly, raising from her seat.

Dumbledore studied her for a moment. It had been a while since he employed more misleading tactics, yet the moment called for it. Taking a page out of Harry's playbook, Dumbledore stepped back.

"Fine," he said casually. "If that is your final word, I guess you can take it up with Sirius Black, Harry's godfather."

"His godfather," said Petunia frightful.

"Yes, the convict. It was his idea and he has been meaning to talk with you about Harry's living arrangements, as well as other topic concerning Harry," Dumbledore shot Petunia an accusing look, that made her shiver. "I could send for him right now."

"NO!" cried-out Petunia, almost like a scream.

"Then, why don't you compromise and allow Harry's friends to stay here for the first half of the summer, while he stays at your house."

Petunia wanted more than ever to argue, kick this man out, do anything in her power to avoid the fate of having more witches and wizards staying here, where the neighbors could see. However, despite the limited knowledge Petunia had of this world, which she was thankful for, she knew this was a losing battle. Now, for the first, Petunia felt that her anger matched the legendary temper of her husband. She shook and even twitched slightly, trying to hold back screams of rage, growing redder and redder.

"Fine," said Petunia strained.

"Wonderful," said Dumbledore, returning to his cheerful demeanor. "Now, as for the living arrangement. Despite the small living space of Harry's Room, I believe the room will fit him and Mr. Weasley, while Miss. Granger can stay in your guest room. As for Mr. Longbottom and Miss. Weasley, they'll be staying with a friend of ours."

"Your kind! Your kind is staying in my neighborhood!" Petunia rose, frightened.

"Yes, but there is nothing to fear. My friend knows to keep her distance and she no threat to you or your family. Now, Mr. Weasley should be arriving with your nephew, Miss. Granger should arrive by way of her parents, and Miss. Weasley and Mr. Longbottom should meet up with them the following day. I'll leave you instructions, however, I doubt you'll have any trouble. Harry and his friends are, quite well behaved," there was a twinkle in Dumbledore's eye as he spoke of Harry, which made Petunia sigh.

"Do you have any questions?" asked Dumbledore.

Petunia didn't answer. She kept a horrified, angered, and petrified expression as she stared blankly into space. This is happening, she thought, this is happening. More of...them, will staying in my house.

"I'll take your silence as a no," Dumbledore spoke as he rose. "Thank you for your time Mrs. Dursley, we'll keep in touch in something occurs, though I'm certain things will go swimmingly here at Privet Drive. Oh, and have a lovely day."

Once Dumbledore had exited the house and rejoined Molly and Remus outside, the door behind them was shut and they heard a loud scream of discomfort, clearly coming from Petunia.

"That went well," sighed Remus sarcastically.

"At least it went better than I thought it would," said Dumbledore, turning to face his two companions. "Molly, you requested I take you back to the Barrow after this was over."

Molly didn't reply. A troubling look overtook her, and Dumbledore knew all too well what was behind this. It was a look she bore whenever the subject of Harry and his relatives came up and now that she finally saw this supposed home first hand, concern for the boy grew. Dumbledore still choose to humor her with a response.

"Why don't we discuss more outside of the Burrow, where we're less out of place," Dumbledore said sympathetically.

Sure enough, across the street, neighbors were beginning to take notice of the three odd characters, standing in front of the Dursley's lawn. Petunia, with a disgusted and horrified stare, glared at the three from behind the window, indicating them to leave. Walking over to a more secure part of Privet Drive, Dumbledore took both his companions by hand and with a loud pop that startled an alley cat, they were gone.

Once the three were gone, Petunia stared at the paper white phone in the kitchen. How was she going to tell her husband? She could remember his reaction when she told him Harry was to stay with them all those years ago. The anger and frustration he exhibited. For a second, she thought he was going to have a heart attack. After twenty minutes of pacing back and forth, Petunia picked up the phone and dialed Vernon's work

"Grunnings Drills, this is Director Vernon Dursley speaking, how may I help you," answered Vernon professionally.

It always gave Petunia a little of a thrill to hear her husband sound so professional on the phone. If this was any other day, Petunia would have toyed and even flirted with Vernon. "It's me, sweetums."

"Ah, honey. What do I owe the pleasure," replied Vernon hopefully?

"We need to talk," said Petunia gravely.

HRHRHRHR

Appearing outside of the Barrow, Molly stumbled for a moment to reclaim her balance. While her husband and sons used apparition often, (in fact since turn seventeen and passing their test, her twins had apparated regularly) the uncomfortable sensation of apparition was something Molly would never get used to.

"Here," said Remus, reaching out a hand to help along with Dumbledore.

"It's fine," said Molly, finding her bearings. "Thanks anyway."

Dumbledore stared at her. "I know what's troubling you, Molly."

Molly felt like she was a student of Dumbledore's again, and like a student, she avoided her old headmaster's eyes, looking down at her feet and fiddling with her wand.

"As I have mentioned previously, in both my office and my letters, 4 Privet Drive is the safest haven Harry has," spoke Dumbledore.

"It's not just him. Ron, Ginny, how can we be sure they'll be safe?" said Molly, raising her head to face Dumbledore.

"Molly, we'll have an Order member guarding the street, and I doubt in his weakened state, Voldemort would attack," reassured Remus.

"I must agree. Given Voldemort's current status, he would most likely be trying to regain not only his strength, but the strength of his forces. Unfortunately, with dear Minster Fudge's stance, that could prove easier for him. Thankfully with the blood protection under Harry, I'm certain he won't attack during Harry and his friends stay at Privet Drive."

The calmness of their voices did serve Molly's nerves. However, truthfully Voldemort was not her main concern with this plan. Her worries laid in Harry himself. From the moment her son had told her Harry wouldn't be receiving a single Christmas gift his first year, Molly had long suspected some form of mistreatment from Harry's relatives. Year after year, further evidence fueled her suspicions. From the story of bars being placed on his windows to his walrus of an uncle yelling at Ron on the phone the previous year. Now, she was sending her youngest son and only daughter to stay with them.

"I don't see why we can't just have him stay here," there was a hint of defeat in Molly's voice, knowing this was a losing battle.

"Molly, I don't like Harry living there as much as any one of us, but Lily's sacrifice, the bond of blood, is the strongest protection we have," replied Remus.

"And with his friends accompanying him for his time there, he won't suffer any isolation, allowing the wounds of his ordeal to heal. However, if it eases your concerns, you have my word that no harm shall befall your child, Mr. Longbottom, Miss. Granger, and especially, Mr. Potter."

Although not entirely convinced, Dumbledore's smile and certainty had calmed a few of Molly's worries. "At the very least, he'll have his friends."

"Very true. Speaking of friends, I think we should return to check on Sirius," said Remus.

"Quite right. Molly, thank you for accompanying us. If anything is to change, you'll be the first person to know. Remus, if you will," asked Dumbledore, gesturing to his arm.

"Ah, yes. Molly, despite Harry's aunt, it was a pleasure seeing you. Hopefully, we'll meet again under better circumstances. Have a nice day," said Remus pleasantly.

"Take care," said Molly.

With that, and with a loud pop, the two were gone.