Summary:Hazel Potter's fifth year at Hogwarts, which promises to be even shittier than ever before. What with the Ministry being asshats and all.
Special thanks to Squibnation10 for helping me kick this mess into shape!
Chapter 1: Fight ClubChapter TextThe first day back from Hogwarts was always among the worst of them, and today seemed likely to be no different. Vernon pulled into the driveway and parked his car, and Hazel and Dudley got out and hauled her things upstairs. It was very warm, much more so than previous summers; the lawns of Little Whinging had gone brown due to a hosepipe restriction.
"You been watching old movies, Duds?"
"Yeah! Why, noticed my new look?" He posed in his jacket and brushed his hair back. "Speaking of new look, what happened to your head?"
She had to pose a little herself. "I got in a fight with a dragon. She clipped me high, but I got the drop on her in the end~"
He stared for a few seconds, then laughed uneasily. "Y-You're joking. Right? They wouldn't let students fight dragons, right?"
"I'm not joking, Dudley, I really did fight a dragon. That's why half my head is burnt off."
His eyes were wide as saucers. "Fuck. And your scar? I swear it got bigger."
She turned to the mirror and studied herself; sure enough, the scar on her head had expanded yet again, reaching all the way down through her eye socket and up into the burnt side of her head where the dragon had seared her. Her vision wasn't any different, but it definitely seemed like it went through her left eye too; there were these thin jagged lines through her eyeball and cornea that lined up with where the scar had grown.
It did make a sick kind of sense, she realized. If the scar grew whenever she encountered Voldemort, it would grow even more when he actually touched her, when they fought directly.
"It did get bigger. Duds, do you know how my parents died?"
"Uh, some weirdo killed them?"
She couldn't help but snort. "Yeah, his name was Voldemort, and he tried to kill me too but he messed it up, and wound up dying instead. And then they sent me here because…I dunno why, actually." Not a complete lie, she knew there was something to do with wards and her mother's blood and all that, but she couldn't wrap her head around it.
"I'm glad they did, Hazel." He reached out and hugged her one-armed. "You're really cool, and you help me with smarty-pants shit too."
"Aw, Dudley." She hugged him back, and they went downstairs, where Petunia was cooking dinner. "Mm, roast beef!"
Petunia had a resentful air about her as she went about her preparations. "You'll have to be careful about the yard this summer, Hazel. There's a water ban, and those meddlesome cads at South East Water are enforcing it for once."
"Meaning they'll come sniffing around if the yard is toogreen?"
"The front yard anyway, they don't usually look around back unless someone tips them off."
"I'll do the back garden, then. It'll be nice to have some flowers around, and it'll make things a bit cooler back there too."
Vernon came in and sat down, frowning at her head. "Did you get into a boiler accident or something? I thought you liked your hair!"
"I do, Uncle Vernon. But do you really wanna know?"
Vernon hesitated, and his face went through a few shades, then he subsided into grumbling. "No need to get smart with me, girl, I was only concerned."
"You wouldn't believe me even if I did tell you, Uncle. I told Dudley and I'm not sure he believed me."
"Hey, I never said that!"
Vernon seemed to screw up his courage for a moment. "Try me anyway."
"Okay, don't say I didn't warn you." Hazel grinned and widened her eyes dramatically. "It was a dragon! Me and her, locked in mortal combat! I had to rescue this golden Egg from the mighty beast, and though I got the Egg, I did not escape unscathed! It shot a tongue of flame as I jumped away and seared the hair from my head!"
Vernon and Petunia looked horrified, but Dudley only seemed more excited as he leaned forward. "Was it some sort of test, then?"
"Aye, young wizard, a test indeed! The legendary Triwizard Tournament it was, in which I was forced to compete or risk losing my magic!"
Vernon winced and waved his hands like he was swatting mosquitoes. "Alright, alright! We get it, you had a dangerous time of it!"
Petunia shuddered theatrically. "Dragons, the very idea. Wash up for dinner, all of you."
Hazel and Dudley kept breaking into giggles throughout dinner, and afterward she helped gather the dishes before heading upstairs. She wanted to get a good start on her summer assignments, especially with three classes' worth of catching up to do.
Later that night, she pulled her Invisibility Cloak on, stuck her head out the window, waved her wand at the back garden and cast her spells, silently of course. Not too many at once, she figured it was best to green it up gradually like before. Since she was only doing the garden, it didn't take her as long as it had before, and afterward she put her wand away, pulled the Cloak off and crawled into bed, where she arranged her mental defenses before dropping off to sleep.
In the morning, she woke up to find a strange, official-looking letter at the foot of her bed. "You didn't bring this in, did you, Hedwig?" Hedwig hooted negatively. "Weird. Well, next time strange owls come by in the middle of the night, wake me up, yeah?"
She hooted affirmatively, and Hazel reached for her glasses and opened the missive:
Dear Ms. Potter,
We have received intelligence that several Rejuvenation and Watering Charms were used at your place of residence early this morning at seven minutes past midnight.
As you know, underage wizards are not permitted to perform spells outside school, and further spellwork on your part may lead to expulsion from said school (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C).
We would also ask you to remember that any magical activity that risks notice by members of the non-magical community (Muggles) is a serious offense under section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy.
Enjoy your holidays!
Yours sincerely,
Mafalda Hopkirk
IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICE
Ministry of Magic
"What the fuck." Why did the Ministry suddenly give a shit? Surely they must have known she was casting those spells around her house this whole time. It was a crock of shit, and she wasn't sure what to do about it.
One thing was for sure, though. The Dursleys wouldn't have their lush green garden this summer. She did her morning routine until the rest of the house was stirring, and got dressed before heading downstairs (grimacing at having to wear a bra again, without being able to cast the usual charms), the official letter in hand.
"I won't be able to do the garden this summer. Someone at the Ministry finally gives a damn, it seems." She flung the letter on the table.
Petunia studied the letter for a few moments. "Expulsion? What nonsense. Lily did worse than that all the time, all she got was a warning every week or so."
"Sounds political. I may not know this Ministry of yours, but I know politics." Vernon seemed glad to be able to chime in, for once.
"That makes sense, Uncle Vernon." In the context of Fudge's political rants, it made perfect sense. She'd have to be careful not to cast any more spells until she was back in magical society, that was all. "Sorry about the garden, I guess."
He made a dismissive gesture. "Bah, we'll manage for one summer. Just keep your nose clean, is all."
Keep your nose clean. Right up there with Just get it over with and Nothing I can do about it now as far as life advice went. "Sure thing, Uncle Vernon."
After breakfast, Hazel and Dudley went outside, Hazel in a shirt and shorts while Dudley sweated in the heavy jacket and trousers he'd worn the day before. "Why not wear something lighter, Duds?"
He hesitated, then shrugged and went back inside. "You're right, actually, no point being miserable." He came back out a minute later in shorts and shirt, and they slouched off into the heat towards Magnolia Crescent.
On the way, Hazel debated with herself about Dudley's behavior. She didn't want him picking on little kids for their lunch money, or whatever he and his mates had been doing, because if they did they'd expect her to get involved; she had no qualms making a lad eat dirt if he had earned it, but random kids? That crossed a line, and she wasn't sure what the line was or where it went.
By the time they got to the lads she had the beginnings of an idea in her mind. But first they had to deal with the expected drama: "Holy shit, Hazel, what happened to your face?"
"What, my new scars?" She did her best to seem nonchalant. "Boiler accident, looks worse than it is. And these are from shop class, also looks worse than it is, whatever." She waved them off and took a breath. "So, guys. I had an idea on the way out here."
"What's on your mind?"
"We've all gotten pretty good at fighting, right?" They nodded in agreement. "So why not fight for real? Start a club, like."
Piers looked nervous. "Like a fight club? We'd get plenty of practice in, for sure."
"And we could do bets and stuff too! No more picking on little kids for their lunch money! Never sat right with me, you know, picking on little kids."
Dudley was on board. "Where we gonna host it, then? There aren't any warehouses nearby."
"I know a clearing in the park, where the trees and hedges are real thick. We'd have to do a little landscaping, but we can make it fight-worthy easy enough."
"Ah yeah, I think I know the place you mean." Dudley nodded. "Let's go check it out, at least."
Hazel led the way to the park, bypassing the playground equipment and heading for the trees that occupied nearly a third of the area. There was an especially thick section of brambles and hedges, where the trees grew close together; she knew older kids used the space for shagging or smoking or drinking, away from prying eyes.
They forced their way through the hedges into the clearing, and she saw they had some work ahead of them. Used rubbers and old drinks cans littered the ground, and the brambles were quite overgrown even in the center of the clearing. Hazel groaned quietly. "Maybe more than a little landscaping, I guess."
Dudley grimaced at the sight. "Nah, the worst part'll be cleaning the rubbish away. We'll need tools, though, no way we can clear this out by hand."
"My parents are out for a few days, we'll get stuff from my place. Some rugs or old carpeting would be a good idea too, once we get the rubbish cleared away." The others agreed, and Gordon led the way back to his place.
They got to Gordon's house and retrieved the tools from his garage: lawn mower, hedge trimmers, shovels and saws and things, plus bags and gloves. Dudley took the lead, since he was the biggest. "Act official." He whistled cheerfully and waved whenever anyone looked their way, and his attitude served to fend off attention.
Back in the clearing, they set to work, cleaning up the rubbish and clearing away the brambles and debris. The shade of the trees kept the worst heat away, thankfully. Dudley heaved a sigh and wiped his brow. "We should break for lunch, guys, or our parents'll wonder what's up. Our place?"
There was a collective shrug, and they followed Dudley out and up the road. "What'll we tell your mum when she sees us all sweaty and grimy?"
Hazel thought about it. "She'll believe anything Dudley says, so let him deal with her."
"I hate lying to Mum, though. Let's tell her what's going on, she won't care."
She shrugged. "We're about to find out."
They filed into the Dursley kitchen, where Petunia was preparing sandwiches and slicing apples. "You're all filthy! What on earth have you been up to?"
"Setting up a fight club, Mum. Hazel figured since we got into fights so much, we may as well have some rules and a safe space to do it in."
"Fight club, I never. Well, wash up before you sit down, all of you. You can have one can of pop each if you like."
"Yes, Mrs Dursley," everyone but Dudley and Hazel said at once, and they queued up at the sink.
"Aunt Petunia, do we have any old rugs or bits of carpet lying around? To pad the ground, you know."
"I'll check the garage while you lot are eating." She made sure everyone had food before getting up to look. Hazel winked at Dudley, who grinned and winked back. The fight club was off to a good start!
Chapter 2: Meeting LeahSummary:Hazel meets a new "friend" as the fight club takes off.
Chapter TextAfter eating they went back to the clearing and finished the job, and had a nice pile of weeds and debris as well as a couple bags stuffed with rubbish. "Let it dry out for a day or so, then we can have a bonfire."
Piers looked apprehensive. "With the drought going on, and the water ban? Is that a good idea?"
Dudley shrugged. "We'll keep shovels on hand so we can throw dirt on it. Be a good way to open the fight club up, for sure."
"We should have some rules too." Hazel pulled out a pen and notepad. "No hitting the eyes, or any other maiming blow?"
Gordon nodded. "Yeah, and if we're gonna do betting, we get a piece of each bet as the founders. And we should set aside a percentage for the club itself. For gear and stuff, and keeping after things."
Dudley was getting excited, thinking about rules. "Fists only, unless both fighters agree to weapons. And no knives or anything sharp, we're not here to kill one another."
Hazel wrote it down. "No head strikes for armed fights."
Dennis looked up too. "If someone taps out, the fight ends right away. And no ganging up either, one on one only."
"Good ideas, guys." Hazel was writing them all down. "What do we do with rulebreakers?"
Malcolm looked thoughtful for a moment. "Three-strike system? Strike one, you forfeit your bets for the day and can't make any more. Strike two, you get thrown out for a week. Strike three, you're banned forever."
"And if it's really bad we beat the shit out of you!" The others cheered at Gordon's suggestion.
"No arguments here." Hazel added that to the list. "We'll add more if we see a need for it. So, who wants to spar?"
They spent a few hours sparring, then decided it was time to head home when they were too thirsty to do much more. "Don't forget to spread the word, you guys. Think of the money we'll make!"
Back at the Dursley household, Vernon was back from work, and Petunia was making dinner. "Fighting again, were we?"
"Yeah Dad, we're starting a club. There'll be rules and everything."
Vernon went a little misty-eyed. "That's my boy. Keep in shape and show those whelps what-for!"
Petunia sniffed. "Just don't start betting or gambling on these fights of yours. You know we don't approve of gambling."
"We know, Aunt Petunia. No bets, we promise." She didn't feel bad about lying to her Aunt, or to anyone. If they were found out later she might feel bad about being caught, but not for the lie itself.
Later that evening, Dudley gave her a reproachful look. "Why'd you lie to Mum?"
"If they know we're betting on the fights they'll stop us. Take it easy, let me worry about that stuff. You worry about punching peoples' faces in!"
"Fine, fine." He went to get ready for bed, and she waited her turn for the bathroom, eager to shower the grime of the day away.
As enthusiastic as she was about the fight club, Hazel still had a lot of homework to do that summer. Not only did she have the normal assignments to do, but she had to revise for the three classes she had dropped so she could get back into them for the upcoming term.
She tried to keep herself busy as the days went by, if only to avoid stewing in her feelings, but she couldn't avoid it forever. At night, exhausted from hours of fights and assignments, she lay in bed wide awake, replaying the events of Voldemort's resurrection over and over. Particularly the moment she murdered Lockhart; all her bravado and all the reassurances of her friends didn't count for much in the privacy of her own head.
Fucking Lockhart anyway. It was his own fault he died! If he hadn't been a con artist and a pedophile and a Death Eater she wouldn't have had to kill him!
She couldn't quite silence the small voice that said she chose to kill him, though. That she chose to take his wand and cast the Killing Curse with it.
"Shut up, I don't feel bad about it at all. Well, maybe a little bad, but not all the way bad!" Irritated with herself she turned over and tried to get comfortable again, clamped down with Occlumency to make the noisome thoughts go away, and soon slipped into the darkness of sleep. Good thing mind magic didn't set off the Trace, or she'd lose her mind!
The club was coming along rather well, at least. It was surprising how many teenagers in Little Whinging had training in martial arts, as well as summer allowances burning holes in their pockets. It wasn't just boxing either, but wrestling, karate, even krav maga. Hazel was impressed by the one girl who used that, and during a lull between fights, she approached her with a bottle of water. "I liked watching you fight."
"Thanks, I'm Leah Adelman." She accepted the bottle with a nod; Hazel admired her lightly tanned skin and her sharp facial features, which stood out among the pale faces of Little Whinging.
"Hazel Potter. Are you new to Little Whinging? I don't think I've seen you before, and I'd remember a pretty face like yours~"
Leah giggled. "Speaking of faces, what happened to yours?"
Hazel shrugged. "Boiler accident. And shop class."
"Really?"
"Well… that's not what really happened, but I'm not allowed to talk about what really happened."
"Fair enough." She was still smiling, though. "You're not so bad in the ring yourself. Can I come by your place and learn a few things?"
There was definitely a suggestive hint to her voice, and Hazel hated to turn her down, but… "I'd love to, but I live with my aunt and uncle, and they're… well, they're old-fashioned. Your place, maybe?"
"Sure, my mom's out of town for the week anyway. I'm at 13 Wisteria Walk."
Hazel grinned a bit too widely. "Alright. Tonight, if I can manage it."
Later, at dinner, Dudley had a smirk on his face. "Mum, Dad, Hazel made a new friend today."
Petunia looked up. "Oh, did you?"
She kicked him under the table. "Yeah, her name's Lead Adelman. She asked if I could hang out tonight."
"Adelman…" Vernon got a thoughtful look in his eye. "Oh, right, her father's an accountant or something. Should be safe enough."
"Be sure not to impose, Hazel, not when they've invited you into their home. Did you plan on sleeping over?"
"I had, yes. When should I be back if I decide not to?"
Her aunt shrugged. "Don't be out alone after dark, that's all." Translation: don't let the neighbors see you wandering around alone after dark.
After dinner, she washed up and helped with the dishes, then got ready to leave. Dudley gave her a snide smirk. "Good luck~"
"With what? I'm just gonna go hang out."
"Sure, with some girl you've known for an hour."
"Shut up, Dudley! I mean it!" If Vernon and Petunia heard them…
"Hey, easy, I won't say anything." He lowered his voice. "I'd be stabbing myself in the foot if I pulled that shit, you know? So, yeah, good luck, have fun, all that."
"Uh, thanks." That was strange, but Hazel didn't want to think about it just yet. So she nodded and walked out the door, humming to herself as she went up the road, a bag over her shoulder with clothes for tomorrow inside.
Twenty minutes later she saw the house she was looking for, walked up and knocked on the door. A moment later it opened, and there was Leah, her new friend. "Hey."
"Hey." She stepped aside, and Hazel went in. "Wow, it's just like our house."
Leah laughed at that. "I didn't think you'd actually come over."
"Why wouldn't I? You're exactly my type~"
"I mean, I'm…"
"What, Jewish? That doesn't matter." She pushed her against the wall and leaned in. "I'm hopelessly gay, Leah Adelman. And you? You're hot, female, and you kick ass. What else do I need to know?"
Leah looked nervous and excited at the same time. "It can't be that easy."
"It is, though! Now are you gonna keep trying to make it difficult or are you gonna let me kiss you?"
Suffice to say, Leah stopped making it difficult after that.
Chapter 3: Bold as BrassSummary:Hazel and Petunia have a spat.
Notes:Bit of homophobia in here, watch yourself.
Chapter TextIn the morning, Hazel learned Leah had a routine much like hers: wake up, work out, shower and eat more than she should. "Do your parents leave you alone often?"
"Somewhat. My parents are both consultants for some defense contractors in London, though Father does forensic accounting and Mother was a specialist in the IDF."
Defense contractors. Hazel had no idea what that could mean, and had the feeling she wasn't supposed to ask. "My parents are dead. Uncle Vernon works at a firm called Grunnings and Aunt Petunia is a stay-at-home mum."
"I'm so sorry. How did they die?"
Hazel was about to recite the usual lie, about a car crash, but the words died on her tongue. She felt a strange impulse to be honest with Leah, at least as much as she could. "They were… they were murdered."
"Oh." Leah reached out and put her hand on Hazel's. "That's terrible! Do you remember them at all?"
"No, I was barely a year old when it happened. Sometimes I have nightmares though, about blinding flashes of green light."
"Do you know who did it?"
"Not really." That wasn't a total lie, she didn't know Voldemort very well at all. "Can we talk about something else? I don't wanna kill the mood with my trauma."
Leah shrugged and pulled her hand back. "I can ask Mother about teaching you krav maga, if you want. I'd teach you myself but I feel like we'd get distracted."
Hazel laughed. "You're probably right about that. I'm a very distractible girl~"
A little later, they set off again, headed for the park. Hazel wanted to hold her hand, but something like that would definitely get back to her aunt and uncle. She knew every house had eyes.
They got to the clearing to find Dudley and his mates setting up. They had brought some rugs and carpeting, and were laying it down to pad out the ring; one big square of thin carpet was in the center, and they were debating on heavy objects to weigh the edges down so it wouldn't slip during a fight.
"We're in a copse, let's drag some old logs over and put them along the edges. Maybe gouge out the ground beneath so they settle in a bit harder, you know?"
Leah cleared her throat. "I saw some old cinder blocks over by the underpass, we could drag those over to weigh the corners down."
Both ideas were good, and it didn't take them long to put them into practice. Afterwards they talked about club stuff and lazed about for the rest of the day, and then Hazel decided to head home early and work on her summer assignments. She walked up the steps, opened the door and went inside. "Aunt Petunia, I'm home."
"All by yourself? Where's Dudley?"
"Still back at the park. I came back early to work on my assignments."
"Well, alright. You didn't come home last night."
"No? I was at Leah's, you asked if I was planning to stay over." Hazel walked into the kitchen so they wouldn't have to yell at each other across the house.
"That was before I knew her parents were out of town." Petunia looked up at her, a strange expression on her face. "You know how it might look, don't you?"
She blinked innocently. "How what would look? We're friends, Aunt Petunia. There's nothing else going on."
"Don't be clever, Hazel, you know exactly what I mean."
"I really haven't the slightest idea, why don't you-?"
"Lesbians!" Petunia lowered her voice and turned away from the window. "You might be able to stand there with your head held high and ignore what people say, but wecan't! Next time you make sure her parents are home, I won't stand for that sort of thing around my house!"
Hazel took a moment to control herself before she did something she'd regret. "As far as the neighbors need to know, Leah and I are just friends. We met at the fight club and now she's teaching me some Israeli stuff, that's all."
"That may be, but the neighbors will say otherwise!"
"Then it's your job to change their minds, isn't it? Or aren't you the queen of the neighborhood after all?"
"How dare you be so flippant about this?! You stand there, bold as brass, playing these games with those foreign harlots! Do you have any idea what the neighbors will say if they think I've got a lesbian under my roof?!"
"No! And frankly I don't care! I'm not beholden to those harpies and you shouldn't be either! They're beholden to you, so fucking act like it!"
"Get out of my kitchen!" Hazel was happy to do just that, fleeing upstairs and slamming her door closed.
There was no way she could get any homework done, not in this mood. She threw herself to the floor and started working out, pushing herself through several sets of pushups, situps, and whatever else she could accomplish without her usual tricks in her small room. The whole time her thoughts seethed, against Petunia, against the bigoted and repressed Muggles outside her bedroom, against herself for having emotions in the first place.
She lost track of time, but her arms were sore when she heard footsteps up the stairs and a knock at the door. "Hazel? May I come in?"
She thought about saying no, then sighed and moved to sit on the bed. "Sure."
Petunia came in, scowling slightly at how messy the room was. "You could tidy up every now and then, you know."
"I was gonna tidy up after my workout. Bit worked up, as you can imagine."
"Right. Well. I wanted to… to apologize."
Hazel's eyebrows shot up. Of all the things Petunia could have said, that wasn't something she would have ever expected.
"Your mother… my sister… she was different that way as well, and not at all shy about it. Our parents encouraged her to stand out and be proud of who she was; I was terrified of what the neighbors would say, so worried someone might make assumptions, take liberties."
"Take liberties?"
"You know. People thought she was easy, or available. Especially boys." Petunia sighed. "Maybe that was why she didn't spend much time with our sort, after a while. She had to put up with a lot of attitude, and I'm afraid I did nothing to discourage it."
"You thought it was only what she deserved, for acting like a slut in public?"
Petunia scowled again. "I wouldn't put it so crassly, but you're not wrong. She told us her sort were more open about that kind of thing, more accepting. I don't know."
"She wasn't wrong, I've had nothing but acceptance at school ever since I figured it out. I was twelve, by the way."
"Look, I know I can't repress or control it, or you, so just… be subtle about it, alright? Don't give the harpies anything to gossip about, and above all don't let Vernon catch wind. He won't take it as well as I have."
"You don't say." It was a struggle not to roll her eyes. "I thought I had been subtle, though, I waited until people were settled in before heading over last night."
Petunia just shrugged. "Anyway, if there's anything I can do to-"
"Take me to Godric's Hollow." The words were out of her mouth before she knew what she was saying, and for a second her expression probably matched the surprise on her aunt's.
"W-What?"
"Take me to Godric's Hollow, I said." As if she hadn't been as caught off guard as she was. "So I can see their graves. You were about to say if there was anything you could do to make up for it, right?"
"Yes." She seemed to dither for a moment, then gave in. "Very well, I'll have a word with Vernon tonight. But your birthday is a Monday this year so you may have to arrange transportation."
"I can do that." Sirius would help out, she was sure, if only for the chance to hang about and pester her for a few hours.
After that her aunt left, and Hazel felt better so she sat down to do her assignments. She focused on Muggle Studies, partly because she wanted to impress Professor Burbage and really wanted to get back into that class next term, and partly because she didn't want to do Astronomy or History yet. But she'd have to do a good job on her Astronomy work, especially if it turned out that Sinistra was to be the new Head of Slytherin.
She was brought out of her homework fugue by the arrival of an owl, which she recognized as the Weasley's new one. "Errol Junior." He hooted back and stuck his foot out, and she plucked the message off his leg. But he didn't leave right away, which made her think he was waiting for a response. She frowned and opened the letter:
Hazel,
You probably haven't heard, but old Binns finally passed on, just a day or so ago! Dumbledore's got to find a new teacher for History, hopefully they'll get a better one. Bad luck for him, with Snape showing his true colors and Hagrid off doing whatever. Not to mention the usual DA opening. You think there really is a jinx on that job?
Write back quick, I told Errol Jr to wait on your reply.
-Ron
Did he not know about Dumbledore's "resignation" yet? Or were they not talking about that in writing for whatever reason? She grabbed a notepad and pen:
Ronald,
Four posts to fill, eh? Along with everything else going on this summer, that's rough. And considering what I've heard about it, I'd say there really is a jinx on Defense.
If I were you, though, I'd keep my eye on McGonagall's job.
-Hazel
That was vague enough, she thought. She folded the letter up and handed it to Errol Junior, who clamped it in his beak and took off out the window.
Well, now she had a reason to take History seriously, didn't she? Even without knowing who was going to be hired, she knew she'd have to work a little harder at it.
Still, though. Muggle Studies first. She grinned at the thought of Burbage's pretty smile, the one she'd wear when Hazel reentered her classroom. But she had to get through these assignments first!
Later, when Vernon came back from work and Petunia called her down for dinner, she put her pen down and went downstairs, washing up at the sink and taking a seat at the table. "Smells good, Aunt Petunia."
She got a small smile in return, then her aunt turned to Vernon. "Vernon, Hazel and I were talking earlier, and she said she wants to go to Godric's Hollow for her birthday this year."
He shrugged. "I don't see why not. But her birthday's a Monday this year so she'll have to get another ride, I'll be needing the car that day for work."
It was Hazel's turn to shrug. "I'll figure something out." In fact she already had, but she hadn't acted on it yet.
There was silence while everyone ate, then Vernon turned to Dudley. "How's that club of yours going, Dudders?"
"Good. Hazel's a great fighter, and the guys are good too. Lots of kids in the neighborhood are coming around."
"You still aren't betting on the fights, right?"
"Dudley and I aren't. If the others are, it's not our problem." It was irritating to repeat herself, Hazel thought.
"Alright then." Vernon seemed to be satisfied, and the rest of the meal went by quietly.
Chapter 4: Godric's Hollow ISummary:The first of many revelations discovered out of order.
Chapter TextLater that evening, before bed, Hazel wrote a note for Sirius:
Sirius,
Can you give us a ride to Godric's Hollow for my birthday? Petunia said she'd take me, but Vernon won't give us the car for the day. If you can't, then let me know so I can figure something else out.
Love,
Hazel
PS - Can we not talk about anything too heavy? I don't want to deal with all that stuff just yet.
"Wake me up when you get back with a reply, alright Hedwig?" she whispered as she tied the note to her leg. Hedwig hooted and took off out the window, and Hazel slipped into bed and dozed off.
Some time later she felt a pecking on her head, and grumbled herself awake. "Alright, you little pest, alright." She gave her owl a pat on the head and plucked the note off her leg, and reached over to grab her glasses and switch the light on to see what Sirius wrote:
Godric's Hollow, eh? You won't like it, but I won't stop you from going. Don't ask me why either, some things need to be seen to be believed.
It isn't a short trip, so I'll get the car from Arthur and be at your place at 7am on your birthday.
Sirius
7am was early for most people, but for her it wasn't unreasonable. She put the letter and her glasses back down and dropped back to sleep quickly.
The next few weeks went by very quickly, between the fight club and her assignments and making time for Leah. Leah's father Ezra wasn't in the picture, but her mother, Shira, was a tall woman with striking eyes and deeply burnished skin who set off all kinds of butterflies in Hazel's guts, and she questioned whether she could get through krav maga lessons without being distracted.
Of course, once the actual lessons started, it was all she could do to keep up. Krav maga was very different from anything else she had ever used! And Shira seemed to have a "sink or swim" approach to teaching.
"Stop thinking! You think too much, Hazel Potter! Do it again!"
"Until it becomes instinct, right?"
"Instinct and reaction, yes. Again!"
She faced Jessica in the fight club more than once, each time with a lot of posing and taunting. Jessica had learned wrestling at some point and had new moves Hazel wasn't ready for, and she was quite glad for the martial focus of her summer up til that point; as it was, they spent more time on the ground than she was comfortable with, and was quite glad Dudley was there to enforce the rules or things would have gotten nasty.
And of course, neither of them being the type to back down, there were plenty of rematches.
She had also noticed a weird trend in the Daily Prophet.Well, a few weird trends, apart from their ongoing coverage of Gellert Grindelwald's parole hearings, which were happening in Germany and thus irrelevant to her. The first was that Rita Skeeter wasn't writing for them any longer, and the second was they were attacking her personally, leaving crude little jibes here and there, clearly trying to paint her as some sort of attention-seeking maniac for claiming Voldemort had returned.
Nothing overt either, she noted with a frown. Nothing about Voldemort at all. Just snide comments every other day or so: "A tale worthy of Hazel Potter" was appended to a story about runaway nifflers, or "Let's hope she hasn't got a scar on her forehead or we'll have to worship her" at the end of a report on a splinching accident.
And what did that even mean? She'd never asked anyone (except Pansy and Luna) to worship her, especially not for her parents dying because of a real attention-seeking maniac. Was it really going to work? She did a lot of working out that night, trying to clear her head and wear herself out before bed.
Before she knew it, most of her homework was done, and all she had left was the History of Magic revision. And her birthday was the very next day. She celebrated by sipping from a bottle of butterbeer in her trunk, and by going a little easier on herself for her nightly workout. Not too much easier, of course.
She was up at sunrise, and weirdly anxious about the day ahead. She did her usual morning routine and spent a little extra time in the shower, and startled herself when she realized she was fiddling with her hair. "It's only Sirius, you daft bint, knock it off." She threw the heavy black mass over her shoulder and flounced down the stairs, where she saw Vernon hurrying through some toast and marmalade before work. "We're not having breakfast?"
"I thought your godfather would want a bite before we left. I'm not sure when we'll be back tonight, Vernon, but there's leftovers in the fridge so-"
"Don't worry about me." He was finishing his hasty breakfast and adjusting his tie. "You just be careful, and get your affairs sorted out, alright?" He kissed his wife, nodded to Hazel and Dudley, and strode out the door.
Nervously her aunt started cooking breakfast for real, and Hazel ducked out into the sitting room to wait by the window. Dudley joined her soon enough. "Happy birthday, Hazel."
"Thanks, Duds. I'm glad you're coming with us."
He shrugged. "Not like Mum would leave me home alone all day, anyway."
Minutes later the familiar blue Anglia pulled in, and two men climbed out: Sirius and Remus, both dressed casually in t-shirts and jeans. She got up, waited for them to knock, and opened the door. "Hi guys."
"Hey kiddo." Sirius pulled her into a one-armed hug, and she hugged him back. "Missed us?"
"Terribly. Come on in, Aunt Petunia has breakfast ready."
They all went into the dining room, where her aunt was laying plates down. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know Mister Black was bringing someone else."
"No trouble, Mrs Dursley. Remus Lupin."
"Petunia Dursley, of course. This is my son, Dudley, and I assume you both know Hazel already." Everyone nodded, and Petunia went to get an extra plate and silverware.
They all sat down and loaded their plates, and Hazel leaned toward Sirius. "So, what's the itinerary for today?"
He leaned in as well. "It's a three-hour drive, so we can't linger too long. Godric's Hollow is a mixed village, mages and Muggles living alongside each other, so be careful about Secrecy."
"Who else knows about the trip?"
"I mentioned it to Dumbledore, naturally. I imagine he'll put old Mad-Eye in the area just to be on the safe side. I wouldn't count on him appearing in person, he's got a lot going on."
"I can imagine." Waging an unofficial war against an undead warlord no one else acknowledged had to be hard. She wondered if Snape wouldn't be there today somehow, or if the danger he was in would even allow for such things.
No one was in the mood to linger, so they ate quickly and were soon on their way, Petunia locking up behind her and trying not to turn up her nose at the slightly battered blue car. Hazel was expecting the inside to be enchanted and roomy like before, but apparently it had a Muggle-friendly setting, because it wasn't much roomier than it appeared on the outside. She was up front with Sirius, and Remus sat behind her, with Dudley in the middle and Petunia on the other side.
"What will you tell them if they see you driving off, Aunt Petunia?"
Her aunt sniffed. "That we're going to see my sister's grave, of course. It's not something worth lying about, and it's not like I've never mentioned her."
Hazel shrugged and looked back up front, watching the scenery go by and thinking how much she preferred flying. Soon she got bored and turned to watch Sirius drive instead, noting how he handled the controls, wondering what each lever and button did.
It didn't take long for him to notice her staring. "What's up, kiddo? Trying to learn how to drive?"
"Maybe? Nothing else to do for three hours except listen to the radio."
"Alright, well, pay attention." He explained the levers and pedals, pointed out stuff on the streets she should watch out for; signs, lights, other cars of course. "It'll make more sense once you can put your hands and feet on things for yourself."
"Obviously." She wondered if driving would be part of their Muggle Studies class. They had learned about Muggle finances and credit cards and things, and how to dress like Muggles; this seemed like one of those blending-in skills that it'd be nice to at least know.
Luckily traffic was agreeable, and they made it across Britain and to Godric's Hollow, where Sirius parked near a market on the outskirts of the village. It was just past ten, according to a clock on the wall. "All one-way lanes inside the village, but it's small enough we can walk around."
Petunia sniffed. "I imagine it's nice and quiet without a lot of cars and lorries mucking around."
Hazel was reminded of Hogsmeade, with all the little rustic cottages, and wondered if anyone was left who remembered her parents. She followed the others to the center of the village, where an old pub and a few other businesses overlooked a small park; the pub was named the Sword & Hat, and a weathered metal placard claimed it had been in business for over a thousand years. She smirked at the wooden sign, since the hat and sword were obviously the Sorting Hat and the Sword of Gryffindor.
Remus put a hand on her shoulder. "Look."
She looked where he was pointing, and saw the war memorial shifting into a different shape, a statue of three people: a man with untidy hair and glasses, a woman with long hair and a kind, pretty face, and a baby girl held in her mother's arms. "Is that us?" She approached the statue and looked into Lily's smiling stone visage. The resemblance between this and the echo she had seen last month was uncanny.
"What's she looking at? It's just an old memorial." That was Dudley, and she realized Muggles couldn't see what she saw.
"Ah, hang on." Remus did something with his wand, and a second later Petunia and Dudley both drew in sharp breaths. "Not exactly old, but still a memorial."
Hazel was staring at her own infant expression. "I look happy." It was hard to imagine, right then, ever being so content with her life; she'd been fighting ever since that awful night fourteen years ago. After a moment she shook herself and turned away, eager to explore the graveyard and find her parents' graves.
Since today was a Monday, the church was quiet and empty, but an old sexton was sweeping the steps as they approached. He looked up as they approached. "The church is closed today."
Remus nodded. "We know, we're here to visit the graveyard."
The sexton peered at Hazel, then nodded and pointed to his left. "There's a kissing gate on the side that's always unlocked. If it's the Potter grave you're looking for, then head down the central path and turn left when you find a grave for a woman and child named Dumbledore."
The five of them exchanged looks. Dumbledore?
"What makes you think we're here for the Potters?"
The old man smiled. "Lass, I might be near blind, but even to my old eyes, you're their spitting image. I was there when you were baptized and christened, right here in this church."
Remus cocked his head. "You're not just a Muggle, are you, sir?"
"Naw, I'm a Squib. Been at peace with it for sixty years." He shook his head and sighed complacently. "Well, these old steps won't sweep themselves. Lord's blessings upon you all."
"And to you, sir." Remus nodded again, and they proceeded down the lane until they found the gate, where they awkwardly passed through it until they were in with the graves. "I wonder who else is still alive from back then?"
"I was wondering that earlier. Whatever, come on."
Chapter 5: Godric's Hollow IISummary:The real horrors of childhood rear their heads.
Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextShe led the way to the first grave, which was made of dark stone and covered in lichen. KENDRA DUMBLEDORE AND HER DAUGHTER ARIANA, and the relevant dates of birth and death. Sirius peered intently at the words. "Reckon this was his mum and sister."
Dudley scanned the nearby graves. "Where's his dad then? I don't see any other Dumbledores. Families are usually buried close to each other, aren't they?"
Remus looked grim. "Percival must have died in prison. It's the only explanation, if he had died anywhere else they would have moved heaven and earth to get his body back here."
Hazel leaned forward. "There's a quote under here. 'Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also'."
"It's from the Bible. I'm not sure they were especially Christian, but you know how the Church is in England."
After a few moments, Hazel decided it was time to move on. "My parents should have a newer headstone, right?"
"Yeah, white marble. There it is, over there." Sirius pointed it out, and they trooped over. Both of them were under the same stone:
James Fleamont Potter Lily Evans Potter
Born 27 March 1960 Born 30 January 1960
Died 31 October 1981 Died 31 October 1981
The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.
Hazel frowned. "Is that another verse from the Bible? I don't like it, sounds like something a Death Eater would say."
"That wasn't how it was meant, I'm certain. It means accepting death, not fighting it." Petunia sounded stiff, and Hazel looked up to see she was blinking back tears.
Dudley took her hand in his. "What are you crying for, Mum?"
"They think we don't know what they're capable of. You didn't just lose a friend or a mother, you know, that night fourteen years ago." She wiped her eyes and looked at Hazel and Sirius, sorrow in every line of her face. "I lost a sister. I lost her, and I've never been allowed to mourn her properly."
"What do you mean, Aunt Petunia? You could have come here at any time."
"Could I? I had to look after you kids, I didn't have time for anything. And you, you didn't help, skulking around in your dog shape."
Sirius looked surprised. "Y-You knew it was me?"
"Of course I did! Lily told me all about the four of you. Gigantic stag, tiny little rat, great black wolf and dog. Who else could it be but you?"
Remus chuckled. "That's what you get for underestimating Muggles."
"I thought you and Lils were estranged?".
"That doesn't mean we weren't sisters, Mr Black. Now give me a moment, please." She turned away from them to compose herself.
Hazel looked back at the grave, still troubled by the verse, trying to make sense of it in her head. "Ugh, I don't care what it's supposed to mean, it sounds like Voldemort's propaganda no matter what way I look at it."
Remus shrugged. "Then look at it as a random Bible verse. Like I said before, you know, about the Church."
"I've never really thought about religion very hard before today, and now it's everywhere. I'm gonna have a new gravestone put in, this verse gives me the willies."
Sirius laughed a little. "For someone who doesn't think about religion too much, you sure are fond of taking the Lord's name in vain. I doubt your parents would care, Lily was agnostic and James sort of followed in the old pureblood ways as far as he did anything."
That made her feel a little better, at least. "I'm gonna look around." She wandered off to examine the other graves, leaving the others to their own feelings. She saw several Abbotts, some Greengrasses, even a Black or two. "How old is this graveyard anyway?" She paused before a particularly old and weathered stone. She could barely make out the name, and for a moment thought it said Potter, but it was something else. Only by squinting could she decipher the first name, Ignotus.
It seemed familiar. "I've heard that before." She wracked her mind to try and remember. The last name was barely legible, but enough letters were there that she could assume it said Peverell. One of the ancient lineages she was supposedly descended from.
And there was a symbol above the name. She knelt and scraped at the moss covering it, revealing a funny triangular eye. "The symbol of the Deathly Hallows." She was remembering her meeting with Luna's father. Did that mean this Peverell bloke had been a believer? Come to think of it, maybe the Peverells had become the Potters, somewhere up the line…
She thought of her Invisibility Cloak, handed down from her father. She thought of the qualities Xenophilius had described in the mythical Cloak of Invisibility: a perfect, enduring source of concealment for oneself and one's friends, that does not fade or lose power with time.
Come to think of it, why did Dumbledore have it anyway? Surely her father could have hidden them all beneath it, the night of the attack? But if they had a Fidelius Charm over the house, he would have trusted in its power to keep them safe. Except for Wormtail.
Hazel snarled to herself and clenched her hands into fists at the thought of that slimy bastard, betraying her family to their deaths and being rewarded by his true master. "I'm gonna kill you one day, Pettigrew. I'm gonna do to you what you did to my parents..."
"Harsh words, Miss Potter." She straightened quickly and spun around at the unexpected voice, and saw Severus Snape standing beneath an oak tree, studying her with an inscrutable expression.
"Professor!" She hurried over and threw her arms around him, and he awkwardly patted her shoulder in return. "I was so worried about you!"
"You needn't worry for me." He held her at arm's length, looked her up and down. "You appear hale and hearty, still."
"Why wouldn't I be? It's only been a month."
"Much can happen in a month." He let go and stepped back. "I had expected you to come here much sooner than this."
She just shrugged. "It only occurred to me to come by this summer, not sure why."
"Hm. Did you plan on viewing the cottage, as well?"
"What cottage? The one where Voldemort murdered my parents?"
His face darkened. "I suspect you won't like it. You of all people are in a position to do something about it, however."
"Do something about what? What are you-?" She heard Dudley calling for her and looked away. "I've gotta go, sir, take care of yourself."
"There is no need to call me 'sir,' Miss Potter. Be well."
By the time she looked back, he had disappeared without a sound. Whether he had disapparated, gone invisible or simply stepped behind the tree was a question she didn't have time to explore; she sighed and returned to the others. "Take it easy, I was only getting some shade. Now where's the cottage?"
Sirius looked surprised, and maybe a little guilty. "It's past lunch, why don't we-"
Remus cut him off with a hard jab to his side. "Down at the end of the lane, it's the last one."
"Why wasn't it demolished?" The foul mood from her thoughts about Wormtail resurfaced, and she hurried through the gate and down the lane. "I swear, if they turned it into some kind of memorial-!"
"Hazel, slow down!" one of them yelled, but she ignored them and hurried along, practically running. But at the first sight of it, she slowed down, coming to a stop at the gate.
The Potter cottage was indeed at the end of the lane, overgrown with ivy and brambles, and the entire right side of the top floor had been blown away, left open to the elements. The hedge had grown wild and the lawn was nearly a foot high, but debris from the wreckage could still be seen.
"This is the laziest fucking memorial I've ever seen! They didn't even bother preserving it! It's all overgrown!"
"I knew she wouldn't like it." Remus sounded vindicated as they caught up to her.
Dudley sounded confused. "Why are you so bent out of shape about it, Hazel? Normally you love the spotlight, I thought."
"Sure, normally I do, but is this normal? My parents were killed in that building, and the Ministry made a spectacle out of it!"
"They didn't even have the decency to preserve it properly." Petunia glared at the weeds and ivy.
Sirius tried for the diplomatic approach. "Hazel, try to understand. It's not just a monument to Lily and James, but to Voldemort's passing too. We all thought he was dead and gone; obviously we know better now, but back then?"
"That's not all." Remus leaned forward and put his hand on the rusted gate. Moments later a wooden plinth rose from the ground, and it had golden letters engraved on it:
On this spot, on the night of 31 October 1981,
Lily and James Potter lost their lives.
Their daughter, Hazel, remains the only person
ever to have survived the Killing Curse.
This house, invisible to Muggles, has been left
in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters
and as a reminder of the violence
that tore apart their family.
There were other marks on the sign, left by mourners and the curious. Names and initials in Everlasting Ink, or messages of grief and support.
"When they died, we all felt it. Not just their friends, but everyone, all of England. That grief turned to fury when word got out about what Pettigrew had done; the Aurors were hard-pressed to keep him safe before his trial."
"I wish he had died, that fucking traitor…"
Remus sighed. "What are you going to do now?"
"What the fuck else am I gonna do? I'm gonna get it back from those bastards at the Ministry and have it knocked down!" Ooh, she was so furious about this!
"Hazel, calm down." Sirius put a hand on her shoulder. "Think for two seconds. If you get involved personally, the Ministry will use it against you, make you look like a deranged little girl trying to take a treasured monument away from the people. Don't give them that ammunition."
He was right, she knew he was right, but that didn't make it any better. She took a few deep breaths and clamped down on her Occlumency, forcing her thoughts into order. "You're right, sorry."
"Mum, I'm hungry. All this political stuff makes my head hurt!"
"Alright, Dudders. Let's head back to that pub in the center of town and get lunch. This is an awful place and we shouldn't be here."
"Agreed." They all went back to the Sword & Hat, where Hazel had a toasted roast beef sandwich and chips, with hot sauce on the side. It was the sort of thing she'd normally enjoy, but she was too emotional to really get any enjoyment out of it right then.
Back outside, Sirius took the lead back to the car park. "Let me sort this out with the cottage, Hazel. I'll speak to Griphook in person as soon as we get back to London, and get Gringotts and the House of Black behind you."
Remus nodded. "As the account manager for your family, Griphook should have access to the deeds, as well as your parents' wills. That'll be important for establishing who really owns the place."
"You guys will keep me in the loop, right?" It was a relief knowing competent adults were on her side, and Hazel felt herself relaxing a little. She sat in the back seat on the return trip to Surrey, eyes closed as she dozed off.
They got back to Privet Drive around 4pm, and Hazel went upstairs to write a letter to her friends, telling them about what she had learned at the Hollow. Only one letter, since she had the impression everyone was in the same place; no doubt it was Number 12, but for some reason they weren't talking about it in writing. Whatever.
After the letter went out she went back downstairs, had a snack, and joined Dudley to terrorize the neighborhood.
Notes:I tried to get the words on the grave to line up all neatly, but it didn't wanna cooperate so I gave it up as a bad job.
Chapter 6: Eating DirtSummary:Back home! Hazel gets to vent her negative feelings in unproductive ways.
Take heed that this chapter contains a scene of bullying.
Chapter TextThe guys were waiting for them, weirdly enough, and Piers had a look on his face. "Big D, you remember the Evans twerp? You won't believe what he's been saying."
Dudley frowned. "Is he talking shit about us?"
"Yeah, he's saying you're pussy-whipped and you can't back it up anymore!"
"What!" His face darkened. "That little fuckhead's gonna get what's coming! Sorry Hazel, we-"
"Oh no, I am not missing out on this!"
They shrugged, and Piers led the way to the playground, where Mark Evans and his pals were horsing around.
Dudley took charge. "Hey twerp! I heard you been spreading shit!"
Most of the kids scattered, leaving Evans and two of his pals to stand their ground. "You're not allowed to push us around anymore, I heard it!"
Dudley cracked his knuckles. "Oh yeah? Who'd you hear it from? It doesn't matter, we're gonna show you what's really going on!"
"Go ahead! We'll just tell everyone you get off on hitting little kids! Your new friends at that club won't be so impressed, I bet!"
"Let me handle this, Duds." Hazel stepped forward. "I bet you won't be so eager to brag if it's a girl that makes you all eat dirt, eh? And you can't hit back either, can you? 'Cause boys can't hit girls~"
One of his pals seemed to lose his bravado, and tried to stop him. "Uh, Mark, maybe we should-"
"No way! We can't let this bitch push us around!" Evans shook his friend off and charged forward, tiny fist raised and cocked backwards.
"Bitch, am I? You need to learn some manners, you little mutt!" She side-stepped his charge and tripped him up, and fell on him the second he hit the dirt, bending his arm back and putting her knee on his spine. "Maybe your Mum's the bitch, eh? Letting a mutt like you run around!"
"Don't talk about my Mum like that!" He tried to fight her off, but she just twisted his arm a little and put him back down. "You are a bitch!"
"Damn right I am!" She grabbed his hair and forced his face into the dirt. "Go on, mutt! Eat dirt!"
"Get off him!" One of his friends was running forward with a rock in his hand, but Gordon snagged his wrist and threw him back. "We're gonna tell our parents!"
"Tell them what? That your mouthy little pal got his ass handed to him by a girl?" Gordon laughed and shoved him back again. "Or that you tried to hit a girl in the back of the head with a rock?"
Hazel pushed harder on Evans' head, and shortly heard him sobbing and pleading. Figuring that was enough she released him and stood up. "You got off easy this time, mutt. But don't you ever talk about me or my cousin that way again, or next time I won't interfere."
Evans was too busy coughing up mud and drool to reply, and settled with running away sobbing. Dudley and the guys chortled and high-fived one another, and Hazel smirked, feeling a little better for getting to vent some hostility.
"How did you do that?" Hazel turned at the sound of the voice and saw a couple of girls coming out from behind the swings. "He's always picking on us, we wanna fight back too!"
She looked at the guys, who shrugged. "Come to the fight club in the woods tomorrow, girls, my friend and I will teach you a few things."
"That brown-skinned girl? She's pretty."
"What, and I'm not~?"
The second girl elbowed her friend. "You are, but you're kinda scary too, with all your scars and things."
"Why thank you, I've been through a lot to get these scars." She couldn't help but preen a little. "Boiler accident, you know, very traumatic."
Malcolm cleared his throat. "C'mon, let's get outta here before those twerps really do get their parents involved. You girls won't say anything, right?" Everyone nodded in agreement, so the six of them left the area, and the girls went back to playing.
Later that evening, back at Number 4, they saw Vernon had returned home, and went inside to see Petunia engrossed in a conversation on the phone. Hazel and Dudley washed up in the kitchen, where Vernon was reading the paper.
A moment later, Petunia hung up and glared at nothing. "You wouldn't believe the nonsense Corinne Evans had to say just now. She said Hazel and the boys ganged up on her son Mark and forced him to eat dog droppings!"
Dudley laughed. "No way, Mum, Hazel did that all by herself. And it was just dirt, not dog sh- doo."
"And he and his pals were picking on a pair of little girls when we showed up too, did Mrs Evans mention that?"
Petunia sighed and shook her head. "She certainly didn't bring it up."
Vernon scoffed. "Sounds like the little brat deserved it! How'd your field trip go, anyway?"
Hazel hesitated. "It was… enlightening. They turned our house into a memorial, Uncle Vernon, and didn't even bother preserving it! My godfather is gonna try and get it back so I can have it leveled, then I'll figure out what to do with it."
"Put a new one up and rent it out. Might be a bit macabre staying on the same land as- as what happened."
"Good idea, Uncle Vernon." Even a stopped clock was right twice a day, she reckoned.
"Oh, and happy birthday too, I guess. You're sixteen now, right?"
"Fifteen, sir." …only twice a day! At least there was cake after dinner that night, and big bars of wizard's chocolate waiting for her upstairs.
Things were quiet the next couple days. She talked things out with Petunia about what happened at the Hollow, finished the last of her summer assignments and make-up work, and received a letter from one of the large, fierce-looking horned owls used by Gringotts. It was from Griphook, and he wrote that he had been approached by Lord Black regarding the Potter cottage in Godric's Hollow. According to him, while he could easily locate the deeds and wills, and confirm their contents, actively prosecuting the return of the cottage was beyond his purview, and thus he suggested retaining the services of a specialist in wizard's law.
She wrote back, thanking him for his efforts and acknowledging his advice. Then she wrote a second letter, this time to Narcissa, asking for any recommendations for specialists in magical property law. And since Leah's mum was home (and more than happy to lie to Petunia on the phone about where Hazel was sleeping), she got to stay the night over there too.
The fight club was going great. Lots of kids were gathering for fights and bets, and even some little kids were getting involved after the girls Hazel had saved started inviting their friends. Mark Evans showed his face once or twice, but after those same girls soundly beat him up in fair fights he wasn't so keen on making any more appearances. By collective agreement, Hazel and the guys agreed that the little kid fights were to be watched a bit more closely than the older fighters, so they had two referees instead of just one.
The second night after her birthday, she was out very late with Leah and the boys, and on the way back decided it was time Leah met her relatives. "Hey Leah, why don't you come back with Dudley and I? You should meet my aunt and uncle."
"Is that a good idea?"
"Sure! Petunia knows but Vernon just thinks we're friends, and he's sort of a brick so it'll be fine."
"W-What do you mean, your aunt knows?"
Hazel sighed. "She sort of guessed when I came home after that first night, and somehow she found out your parents were out of town."
"Well, alright, if you think it'll be okay."
Dudley held a hand up. "I won't say a word either. I figured it out too, you guys were sappy as hell the first day you met up."
That drew a blush from both girls, but they didn't bother denying it. "Dudley, I've been wondering. Something you said that afternoon, about stabbing yourself in the foot?"
"Oh, yeah. I like both guys and girls, actually, though I sort of still prefer guys? But I'm pretty sure I go both ways?"
"Really? Anyone around the neighborhood?"
"No way! We'd get in so much trouble, I'm not as subtle as you are."
"True."
The three of them were headed down Magnolia Crescent, aiming for the alleyway connecting it to Wisteria Walk. Dudley slouched along, whistling tunelessly, quite at his ease; Hazel and Leah kept eyeing each other and giggling, then looking away, painfully aware of the judgmental streets around them. It was a relaxing summer evening, and despite the stress she was under, Hazel was as relaxed as she had ever been.
Soon she'd have to go back to the magical world, deal with all the stress waiting for her over there, but until then she could faff about as she liked, punching bitches in the face and snogging her Muggle lover when no one was watching. And that was how she liked it!
They reached the alleyway and turned down it, and the light dropped off considerably with garages on one side and a high fence on the other.
Hazel sighed. "We're not nice people, are we, guys?"
Dudley scoffed. "Hell no! Nice people fall behind in life."
Leah giggled. "And nice people are afraid to punch back, too."
"You guys are a bad influence."
"And you're not? You didn't hold back against that Evans twerp the other day."
"Yeah well, he called me a bitch, so he was asking for it."
"You mean Mark Evans? That little runt who got his arse handed to him by those girls who joined us?"
Dudley nodded. "That's him. He was going around saying I had gone soft and that I was too scared to put him in his place or whatever."
"So I put him in his place instead. Figured it would look worse for him if a girl did it."
"Wow, compared to you two I feel like a very nice person right now!"
They all laughed, even Hazel. God, she never wanted this summer to end.