Chapter 26-What we have here is a failure to communicate.....( part 2).

With effort, Sirius tried to focus on the voice speaking to him. It was a strange sensation, like swimming up from the bottom of a very deep pool. "I...I hear you," he mumbled.

"Excellent. Now, Black, I need you to concentrate on the first time you saw Potter."

"...James? We met on the Hogwarts Express."

"No, James' son. Harry Potter."

"Oh, yes. Harry." Deep in the memory, Sirius smiled hugely and lifted his hands as if he was supporting an infant's head and bottom. "Cute little thing. Just born today. Smart, too. Already knows his Uncle Paddy."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose and resisted the urge to swear, while his companions smiled at the sappy look on Sirius' face. He couldn't even accuse Black of being a moron on purpose. He'd forgotten how bloody precise the questions had to be when memory or truth potions were used. The intimidation methods he favored when interrogating students were far fresher in his mind. Oh, well. If he had to make a dunderheaded mistake, at least he was doing so in safe surroundings. Voldemort wouldn't be so tolerant.

Re-focusing on Black, he tried again. "You're still too far back. Think of the first time you saw Harry Potter after you'd escaped from Azkaban. It was in Surrey. You were in your dog form. You had found your way to his neighborhood."

Sirius frowned. "Yes. I wanted to check on him before going after Pettigrew. I knew approximately where Petunia used to live." As he was drawn deeper into the memory, Sirius' observations became choppier, and the canine influence became clearer. "It was dark. I knew I had to be close. I had started to pick up scents: cats, Arabella, and Harry! His scent had changed a little, but I recognized it right away." Sirius sounded slightly surprised when he said this.

"What happened when you found the house?"

"I hid in the shadows. Didn't want to be seen. Heard voices. A man's. Loud. Yelling. 'Come back in here! Come back and put her right!' A boy's. Harry's! Softer. Didn't catch it all. Something like 'She deserved it. Keep away.' The door opened. I could hear and see and smell them both. Anger. Fear. Stress. Blood."

"Blood?" Snape asked sharply, while the others steeled themselves for the worst.

"Yes. The man," Sirius said, much to everyone's surprise. "His leg was bleeding, trousers torn. Heard another dog and other voices inside. Frightened. Confused. Something had obviously happened. I think the dog panicked, and bit the man."

"What of Potter? Was he injured?"

"No. Alert. Furious. On guard, but not hurt. Had his wand pointed at his uncle, keeping him back. Said, 'I'm going, I've had enough,' and left, his wand in one hand, Hedwig's cage under his arm, and dragging his trunk behind him."

"That must have been when Harry blew up his aunt," Arthur supplied. "I never did get the full story behind that one."

Snape nodded, then turned back to Black. "What did you do next?"

"Followed Harry. He went further than I thought he could, all loaded down like that. Must have been the adrenaline. He finally stopped. Seemed more afraid than angry by then. I waited to see what he would do. I wondered if it would be wise to approach him, but he sensed me first. Lifted his wand to do Lumos and accidentally summoned the Knight Bus."

"Yes, that was when Harry ended up at the Leaky Cauldron for the last two weeks of summer," Arabella realized.

"That should be enough, Severus," Dumbledore said. "Is there an antidote?"

Nodding, the potions master retrieved another vial from his robe pocket, and wordlessly placed it into Sirius' hand.

"That doesn't sound like the Harry I know," Mr. Weasley ventured, as they waited for the antidote to take effect. "He's generally very pleasant and even-tempered. I don't think I've ever heard him raise his voice in anger."

"I have," Remus commented, "but you're right. It's not normal behavior. In fact, it's indicative of Harry being provoked to the extreme."

Albus steepled his fingers, and frowned thoughtfully. "Harry has spent a fair amount of time at your houses?" he asked, addressing Arthur and Arabella. At their affirmative nods he continued, "Have you ever observed any unusual wounds or behaviors?"

The witch and wizard he was addressing exchanged a shocked look, then slowly shook their heads. "No, quite the opposite," Arabella said softly. "He showed up occasionally with a stray scrape or bruise, but most of the time he was remarkably injury and illness free. Oh, wait," she said snapping her fingers, "He did have a broken arm once, when he was about three or four. Petunia said it was an accident. I remember, because I watched Dudley while she took Harry to have the cast removed," she elaborated, unconsciously wrinkling her nose in distaste.

"Ah, yes. Charming individual, that one," Arthur said, uncharacteristic sarcasm coloring his voice. "I made his acquaintance last summer," he said in response to Sirius' raised eyebrow. "The twins planted one of their joke candies for him to find. He ate it and things got completely out of hand. It was just a simple engorgement charm. I had him sorted out in no time once I was finally allowed near the boy. They were completely unreasonable, the lot of them. Harry should be awarded an Order of Merlin First Class for managing as well as he has. They weren't even going to say goodbye to him!"

Arabella nodded noncommentally, then frowned as she concentrated. "I knew things weren't perfect for Harry," she said slowly. "Vernon and Petunia were always very partial to their own child. I noticed it the first time I observed them, but Harry had only just arrived. I'd hoped they just needed a little time to adjust."

"I called the ministry a few weeks later, and requested they send someone to check on Harry. I hadn't been as successful as I'd hoped in befriending Petunia. She seemed content to simply use me as a child-minding service from time to time. I tried the usual overtures: speaking to her when we met in public, invitations to tea..." Mrs. Figg shrugged, then continued.

"The ministry sent a junior staffer to check on Harry. He checked in with me when he entered the neighborhood, and stopped by after his visit. He seemed very impressed by the Dursleys' protectiveness. Evidently, they hid Harry, and chased him out of the house once he identified himself as a wizard."

Dumbledore frowned. "I may have that report," he interrupted, searching briefly in his desk, and pulling out a large folder stuffed with parchment. "Here," he announced after leafing briefly through the documents. "He talks about getting the assignment, checking in with Mrs. Figg, and heading over to Privet Drive," Albus summarized as he scanned the paper. When he got to the paragraph detailing the visit, he began to read aloud:

Harry Potter has been placed in a very neat, well-kept home. His aunt, Mrs. Petunia Dursley, seems to be a very loving mother. Her own son is a very robust boy, who seems to be thriving under her care.

I interacted only briefly with young Mr. Potter while his aunt prepared tea. He was quieter and shyer than the Dursley boy, but like his cousin, he was clean, and dressed in clothing appropriate for the weather. I could see no injuries or signs of excessive stress, and though he didn't speak, he smiled very sweetly when I addressed him. I did notice that he didn't interact a lot with his cousin, but this observation is based on a very short visit.

The visit went surprisingly well until I identified myself as a ministry wizard. She had not been warned that I was making this visit, of course. Furthermore, I had not stated my business outright, wanting the chance to observe the household in its normal state. The effect my identity had on his aunt was awe-inspiring. She snatched up Mr. Potter and stowed him in a cupboard under the stairs, snapped at her own son to keep back, then rounded on me.

I don't believe I've ever seen such fierce determination. She looked at me with something akin to hatred, ordered me out of her house, and demanded I stay away from her family. I tried to explain that this was just a routine check to insure Mr. Potter's welfare, but that just made her angrier. She referenced "my kind." I suppose she meant magical folk. I believe her words were, "It's you and the rest of your kind's fault that he is here! He shouldn't be here! He should be with his own kind!" By this I assume she was referring to Mr. Potter, and the unfortunate betrayal of his parents. She seemed most distressed about the failed plan to protect the Potters from You-Know-Who.

I tried to reassure her that she was very well protected, and I was not a dark wizard, while she escorted me to the door, but she wasn't having any of it. She informed me that she didn't want anything from me, and demanded that "my kind" stay away. She said, "Lily was daft enough to trust you, and look what happened to her! I'll not have you popping 'round and putting my family at risk!"

We had reached the door by then. She demanded I leave and never return. Naturally I left, not wanting to agitate her further. Mr. Potter seems to be in no immediate danger, and based on my interactions with his aunt, I feel I must recommend that interaction between the Ministry of Magic and the Dursley family be kept to a minimum. Any questions concerning this matter must be directed to Mrs. Arabella Figg. Security mandates that I be placed under a memory charm to erase Mr. Potter's location.

"Yes. That was what he told me." Arabella held her forehead when Albus finished reading. "They left him with me when the family went on outings-it seemed to agree with what I'd been told. I didn't approve, but I thought they were just overprotective of Harry. I still remember the glare Vernon gave me when I suggested they take Harry along once. I don't think he meant for me to hear, but he muttered something like, 'And risk getting blown up?' I thought they were still wary of being attacked, but couldn't reassure him, since I was supposed to be a muggle. They seemed almost phobic of magic. Petunia told me once how she had disposed of a book of fairy tales. I was afraid if I admitted I was a witch..." Arabella trailed off with a helpless shrug, then held her forehead as the truth came crashing down on her. "They've resented him! They've resented him all this time! I can't believe I was so blind!"

"A common Gryffindor failing," Snape said, but his voice lacked its usual acerbity. "Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs aren't as adept at picking up subtle clues, and reading between the lines as Ravenclaws and Slytherins are. They want to believe everyone has the best intentions at heart."

"What about you, Arthur?" the headmaster queried, after they had pondered Snape's words in silence for a bit. "Did you notice anything unusual when Harry stayed with you?"

"Well, Molly's always going on about how thin he is," the red head responded thoughtfully. "She might be a better one to ask, since she's spent more time around him. I've noticed he's quiet, patient, helpful, well mannered...if anything, he's too good. I was a little concerned when Ron started asking to invite him to stay. I thought he might be a handful-used to special treatment and lots of attention, but that just isn't the case. He seems to like to blend into the background. Most of the time you hardly know he's there. The only time he ever caused us concern was when he and Ron panicked, and took my old Anglia when they couldn't get through the barrier at Platform 9 ¾, and missed the Hogwarts Express."

"Very well. I think between Harry's status on the locator clock, his possession of the Order portkey, and what you all have just reported, it is safe to assume that his is in no current danger."

"Are you suggesting we leave Harry with the Dursleys?" Arabella demanded in shock.

"I am suggesting nothing of the sort," Albus responded testily. "I have a colleague from the International Confederation of Wizards who resides near Perth. I am sure he will be happy to help us track down Harry's wayward family, and check on him for us. However, it's..." Dumbledore counted briefly on his fingers, "...currently 2:00 a.m. in Perth at the moment. If we have reason to believe that Harry is in immediate physical danger, I will awaken him now. If not, I would rather place the call at a more civilized time. As a matter of fact, I just received a report from Harry. He mentioned his relatives had relocated." He located Harry's original letter, then picked up the report he'd just been sent, and handed them to Sirius.

The ex-convict grinned happily as he began reading, but was soon frowning worriedly. Remus, Arthur, Arabella and Severus moved where they could see as well, and read along.

"If I may, headmaster," Snape spoke up when they'd finished, "we might be able to use this situation to our advantage."

Five pairs of eyes turned to him. "How is that, Severus?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Potter's circumstances may not be ideal, but we are agreed that he should be all right for now. Correct?" When his companions nodded, Snape went on. "As I was coming to tell you before being swept up in this gaggle of Gryffindors, the memory potion is finished. I shall be delivering it a little later. If the reaction it got from Black is any indication, Voldemort should be able to extract whatever information he desires from Wormtail.

Snape turned to face Arthur Weasley. "You say that your sons went to Surrey to collect Potter summer of '92?"

"Yes."

"And at that time, Wormtail was still in your household under the guise of a pet rat?"

"Scabbers. Yes. He was Percy's pet, then Ron's."

"Voldemort is planning an attack against Potter. Even he realizes it," Snape sneered, jerking a thumb toward the parchment in Black's hands. He addressed Arthur again. "I realize you can't answer for certain, but is it reasonable to assume that your sons discussed their route in front of Wormtail?"

"Oh, most certainly. Ron almost always had Scabbers with him."

"So you think Wormtail knows Harry's address?" Remus said, stunned, "and Voldemort is going to use the potion to get it?"

"It's a distinct possibility. However, if the house is vacant, we could arrange a little sting operation," Snape suggested. "Between Potter and myself, Albus should know immediately if my suspicions are correct. Afterwards, we can work on determining when the attack will take place. We can charm the house, so no one will buy it, at least in the short term. The risk of casualties will be dramatically decreased if the Death Eaters are sent to attack an empty house."

"Yes, and if we're very lucky, a certain rat will be with them," Remus added, elbowing his rather put-out looking friend. "Buck up, Sirius. The plan has merit, and we may get a shot at Wormtail. If Harry's survived this long, he can last another few hours."

"All right then," Albus said, the very picture of grim determination, "Let's get to work."

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