For the Tomato Day Challenge at The Golden Snitch.

Step 3: Fill some cauldrons with water and heat them up to boil. Write about a character with a quick temper.

Bonus prompts: (word) frantic, (emotion) disgust, (word) distraught, (object) silk dress, (character) Augusta Longbottom.

The muggle woman wore a beautiful pink silk dress, Augusta would grant her that (barely and almost against her good sense) but, regarding the matter at hand she would have to kill her. Well, she wouldn't kill her because that would put her under the same label as the terrorists who ended Frank and Alice's lives.

Augusta could still twist her mouth with disgust plainly showing through her face and attitude. She stood straighter, wondering if the woman would invite her into her home instead of leaving her out in the cold.

"Yes, that's my nephew," the muggle finally said, ushering him inside and not caring one bit about his distraught expression. "You're free to go."

Augusta raised an eyebrow. It had been too long since someone misinterpreted their status this way, and Petunia Dursley, the muggle in charge of Harry Potter, was definitely several levels beneath Augusta's station.

"You didn't understand me, muggle," she said, not pronouncing the name of the woman to emphasise her magic and the bridge between them, separating two different types of person. If Albus Dumbledore, the fool, saw her, he'd condemn Augusta for showing that much contempt about a poor muggle who did nothing wrong.

Albus didn't know the woman had done something wrong.

Like losing the Boy–Who–Lived in the middle of London. What would have happened to him had Augusta not been exiting St Mungo's? For the first time in her life, Augusta was grateful for broken Flu Networks because had she taken the usual way home, she would have never seen the little Fleamont Potter lookalike.

Suddenly, the muggle woman was frantic. She kept widening and narrowing her eyes, looking at the Potter boy who was halfway into what looked like a cupboard under the stairs and then returning her sight to Augusta.

"How could you lose a boy of seven years old in the middle of London?" Augusta asked accusingly, pointing her cane at Petunia's shin. The woman took it as a threat and shrieked, jumping a little.

Then, the muggle looked around the neighbourhood and Augusta knew she was making sure no one saw her.

"I have a grandson of an age with this boy, woman," Augusta said, lifting her chin. "And I would never leave him alone in the middle of a city. Are you stupid, or do you simply not care?"

The muggle woman should have passed the franticness to her nephew because he was the one with wide eyes and scared expression. He looked pointedly at Augusta and she recognised that expression immediately.

Augusta's eyes softened considerably when she read the implied words in his face.

Don't make this more difficult for me, please.

So, in a heartbeat and considering all that could go wrong and how much she would be sacrificing for this, she said.

"Boy, grab your things. You're leaving with me and you won't ever come back."

The stupefied boy shook out of his stillness and sprung into action. He peeked inside the cupboard and turned to look at Augusta. "I have nothing, ma'am."

That made Augusta see red. She hadn't expected him to grab clothes (she knew boys tended to forget the sensible stuff in favour of playing) but a toy or maybe a favourite pillow. The way he said those words and the state of his clothes (she had initially believed they were worn down because he was one of those kids who didn't care for what their guardians provided them) made her realise he was not only being put down as something inferior to the muggles. He was being abused.

"You miserable muggle!" Augusta exclaimed, almost drawing her wand. "Be glad I won't involve the Ministry in this because you would lose everything."

Augusta didn't say she wouldn't call on the inept bureaucrats because that would mean revealing her cards too soon. She couldn't let Dumbledore know of this (and if the dumb wizard didn't know the boy was lost, he wouldn't know he would be with Augusta from now on). At least not yet.

"Come, boy," she snapped at the distraught boy who looked half happy and half scared. "Say goodbye to your Aunt."

He didn't say a word, but he looked at the muggle woman with an expression that was open. He was waiting for his Aunt to suddenly change the surely atrocious attitude towards him and say she was sorry.

That didn't happen. The muggle was still shocked, looking at Augusta with the same disgust Augusta felt for her.

"I have a grandson," she repeated in a softer tone, putting her hand in Harry Potter's shoulder as she guided him out of the house. "And I bet Algernon's favourite pocket watch that you'll get along just well."