The Last Fight

Dear Jennifer,

I have some unfinished business that needs to be attended to. However, I will need not only your assistance, but Harry and Hyden’s as well. I’ll be over at five to eleven on this Friday to pick you up. I will explain more when the three of you are together.

Please return your owl before Thursday.

Most sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore

I read this letter over again for probably the billionth time as I paced the living room of the flat. I had received it on Monday, just two days after I had started at Flourish and Blotts. I had sent an owl back expressing my interest in this “unfinished business,” and now it was Friday night, 10:47 exactly, and Dumbledore’s arrival couldn’t have come slower.

This week had finally achieved a sort of rhythm. I worked days at Flourish and Blotts, keeping an eye over Diagon Alley as well. Sophia and I patrolled together on Wednesday evening, going as far east as Canary Warf and only fighting off a total of six Dementors. Though as I heard from Cedric later, this had been a much more eventful evening than what he and Ophilia had encountered on Tuesday. And despite being exhausted from adjusting to a new schedule, the thought of seeing Harry and Hyden both had given me a boost of excitement. It was so weird not being with Harry. Since graduation, I hadn’t seen him once, and I’d only had one letter from him. Going from sharing a bedroom for five summers to zero contact felt like he had been ripped out of my life. It was almost his birthday, too—

DING

I literally jumped out of my thoughts and ran to the door. In stepped Dumbledore, long silver beard swishing and purple boots sinking slightly into the thick carpet. Following him was Hyden, his black hair shaggy like… well, like how Sirius’s… was. I gulped back a tidal wave of feelings. Not now. Not here.

“Good evening, Jennifer,” said Dumbledore, smiling slightly as he glanced around the room. My face heated up as I realized how messy everything was. Cedric and I hadn’t really had time to clean much the past week… I really should have cleaned instead of paced.

“Hello, sir,” I said uncomfortably. “Are we going to go get Harry?” I busied myself with my cloak, fumbling at the clasp.

“Yes. We’ll need to Apparated a little up the street into the grove of trees so we won’t be seen.”

I nodded. “Sounds fine.” I checked my pocket for my wand, and then Hyden grabbed my arm and Dumbledore turned on the spot, pulling us with him through the super tight tube that lead to Privet Drive. This perfect Muggle suburbia was definitely one of the things contributing to my current nausea. I hung back a little bit behind Dumbledore so I could catch a word with Hyden.

“How have you been doing?” He didn’t quite look like the total wreck he had been a month ago, but he was still clearly stressed. He certainly looked skinnier, and the bags under his eyes were ever-present.

He sighed. “I… I dunno. It’s been a bit weird, honestly. Chaotic. I don’t know what I feel anymore.”

“I hear ya.” I squeezed his shoulder. “It’ll get better, I promise. It might just take a while.” We stepped up to my aunt and uncle’s doorstep, our conversation halting. Then Dumbledore raised his hand and pushed the doorbell.

“Who in blazes is calling in this time of night?!” I heard Uncle Vernon shout, and I sort of panicked and laughed all at the same time. Had Harry not told him we would be coming? This was certainly going to be an interesting encounter.

The door opened and there stood my uncle in all his great-mustached glory. The look of shock on his face was priceless as he went a green color. I clapped my hand to my mouth, trying very hard to not let the laugher escape.

“Good evening. You must be Mr. Dursley. I daresay Harry has told you we would be coming for him?” Dumbledore said politely. Uncle Vernon just gaped at us. I guess he never thought that in all his life, he would see three wizards on his doorstep at bedtime. He also, judging by the way his complexion shifted to a grey porridge, probably never anticipated being in the presence of Albus Dumbledore, the crack-pot old fool who taught us magic tricks. Hyden shot me a sideways look of horror that clearly said, “This is your uncle?” I nodded and rolled my eyes.

“Judging by your look of disbelief, Harry did not warn you that we were coming.” Dumbledore’s tone was as pleasant as ever. I wish I had that sort of control. “However, let us assume that you have invited us into your house. It does not do to linger over the doorstep these days.” And he stepped right in past Uncle Vernon, Hyden and I following suit. Judging from the look on his face, I think Uncle Vernon might have tried to strangle me had I been alone. I was certainly one of the last people he ever wanted back in his house, and the feeling was mutual. Some small part of me genuinely wondered who would win in a fight.

“Ah, good evening, Harry,” Dumbledore said, and we looked up to see Harry standing on the stairs, trying hard not to grin but failing miserably at it. He jumped down the stairs while I nimbly wove around Uncle Vernon, and we met in a tight hug. I just wanted to take him with me, away from this awful house.

“Well, you aren’t completely malnourished yet,” I commented, my face hurting from smiling so wide.

“Still better looking that you,” Harry joked. I snorted and ruffled his hair as Uncle Vernon slid away to confront Dumbledore, who had wandered off into the living room. We could hear him greeting Aunt Petunia and Dudley. Harry and I both started for the living room, dying to see their reactions to Dumbledore. Hyden followed us, and Uncle Vernon trailed behind, possibly too afraid to go near us.

“Shall we assume that you have invited me into your sitting room?” Dumbledore asked, taking a seat on the couch. Harry sat next to him, while Hyden and I took the twin armchairs, leaving Uncle Vernon to stand. Aunt Petunia and Dudley both looked terrified, and Dudley’s eyes kept flickering to me fearfully. Though, of the three, Aunt Petunia seemed the most calm, and the thought struck me that this might not be her first encounter with Dumbledore.

“But sir, don’t we have to leave?” Harry asked.

“Yes, but first we have business to discuss that I rather wouldn’t talk about in the open.” With a few flicks of his wand, Dumbledore had a couch scoop up the Dursleys and conjured drinks for everyone. Harry, Hyden, and I drank ours, thankful for something to distract us with while the Dursleys ignored theirs.

“Now, to business. Firstly, Sirius’s will was discovered a week ago. He divided everything fairly between you three.”

“Their godfather’s dead?” Uncle Vernon asked rudely, a slight hint of hope in his voice. Harry and I ignored him. Hyden’s knuckles went white, fists shaking on the arms of his chair while he tried to keep his cool.

“This is fairly straight-foreword,” Dumbledore continued. “The three of you now own the house, which will be our first order of business.”

“The Order can keep using it,” Harry said. “I don’t think any of us really have a need for it.” Hyden and I nodded in agreement. No one really wanted to go back to Number Twelve, Grimauld Place for any reason. Even if I had still been homeless I wouldn’t have.

“This is very generous of you, but we’ve vacated the building until we can make sure that the building did indeed get passed into your possessions and no to Bellatrix Lestrange.”

Harry actually jumped to his feet. “NO!”

Dumbledore chuckled slightly. “Fortunately, there is a simple test, because we would prefer you three to own the house.”

He waved his wand again, and with a crack, there appeared Kreacher, who looked absolutely mad and screamed, “Kreacher won’t, Kreacher won’t!”

“As you can see,” Dumbledore half-yelled over Kreature’s wails, “he’s not to excited about the change in ownership, but if he does indeed belong to you three, then he should obey any of your commands.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Dursleys cringe away from the screaming elf. Aunt Petunia was probably going to have an aneurysm over the state of the carpet when this was over. Dumbledore waited for one of us to say something, but Harry and Hyden merely looked disgusted. So I took the initiative.

“Kreature, shut up,” was the first thing I could think of, and although he nearly strangled himself and he threw himself down on the carpet in a fit, Kreature obeyed.

“Well, that takes care of that,” said Dumbledore, upbeat. “Might I suggest sending him to work in the kitchens? Dobby could look after him then.”

“Good idea,” said Harry, nodding. “Kreature, go work in the Hogwarts kitchens with Dobby.” With a glare and a crack, Kreature was gone.

“Also, there is the matter of Buckbeak the Hippogriff,” Dumbledore said as though there had not just been a screaming house elf in the room. “He has been left to you, Jennifer, but he is currently at Hagrid’s.”

“He should stay with Hagrid, I have no way of taking care of him,” I said, a bit gloomy. I wish I could, though, or even knew the first thing about taking care of a Hippogriff. Maybe I would sit down and have a chat with Hagrid about it sometime.

“Hagrid will be delighted. Also, we have re-christened him ‘Witherwings,’ lest the Ministry suspect he was, shall we say, the one who got away.” I snorted. I would be surprised indeed in the Ministry was smart enough to work out that Buckbeak was once on death row.

“Now, we come to the part of the will where things get more divided,” said Dumbledore. “As I’ve said, Jennifer, Sirius left you Buckbeak. But he also left you his flying motorcycle.”

The sudden image of myself riding that ridiculously huge motorcycle almost made me laugh again. Yet at the same time, it had a strange allure to it. “Alright, but hasn’t Hagrid been using it?”

“Sometimes. It is at the Weasley’s house for whenever you with to pick it up.” He now shifted his gaze to Hyden. “Hyden, your father has left you the soul benefactor to his vault at Gringotts and all of its contents.”

Hyden’s jaw dropped a bit. “That’s a lot of gold,” he finally admitted a little shakily.

“Indeed it is. And you, Harry.” Now Dumbledore was looking right at Harry. “Sirius has left you every possession in the house.” Harry kind of nodded awkwardly. “Speaking of possessions, are you all packed?”

Harry turned a bit pink. “I’ll just go finish up,” he muttered, standing.

“I’ll go help,” I said, jumping up as well. Hyden followed us silently out of the living room and up the stairs.

“And I told myself I’d never come back… didn’t last very long, did it?” I chuckled.

“No, it really didn’t,” Harry agreed, and we all filed into, well, now it was just his room.

As usual, it was a complete mess. I could tell he had been frantically trying to pack before we had arrived. He started throwing his spellbooks into his trunk, and Hyden helped. I pulled out my wand and began folding and stacking his clothes and robes into messy piles. Cleaning spells were not my strong suit. We worked silently and in a few minutes, the room was clean and Harry was packed.

“Thanks,” Harry said a bit weakly, closing the trunk on his Invisibility Cloak.

“Yeah, I’m glad to see you can successfully keep the room a mess without me,” I joked. “Though, the room does seem bigger without all of my junk in here as well.” Then Hyden grabbed Hedwig’s empty cage, Harry and I picked up his trunk, and we clunked back down the stairs.

Dumbledore was waiting, but there was no sign or sound of the Dursleys. They were probably in the living room, waiting for us to leave before they began frantically packing so Dumbledore could never find them again. “You will need your wand and your cloak,” Dumbledore instructed. Harry kicked open the trunk and extracted these things. I looked around Number Four for what I hoped would be the last time. I had always hated how clean and neat and “perfect” everything had always been, and was glad I would be leaving hopefully for forever. I couldn’t imagine why I ever would come back again, but I had already broken my previous vow to stay away. Dumbledore waved his wand, and the trunk and cage vanished. “They will be waiting for you at the Burrow.”

Now Dumbledore offered his arm out to Harry, and we made a human chain, all linking elbows.

“Where are we going, sir?” Harry asked, satisfying our curiosity.

“To go see an old friend of mine.”

With a spin and a pop, Number Four, Privet Drive disappeared.