iv. i'm back, now what?

But Línnea disappeared. As did everything else around Harriet, as it got dark and Harriet fell unconscious.

When Harriet woke up the next morning it was — to her surprise — not due to the shouting from Petunia Dursley. She sat up in the cot that was in the cupboard under the stairs and looked around. The toy soldiers she'd nicked from Dudley weren't there yet, so from that she knew that it was before she turned seven. And then she saw that box that had been under the cot until she was six. She had decided to open it at the wrong time and Petunia had caught her doing it, so it went up to the attic, where Harriet was never permitted to go.

But it was there now, so she was still five, or it was her sixth birthday right now. She wondered what to do now that she was back. Of course she could open the box right now, but he didn't know when the Dursley's would wake, so didn't want to take any chances. And besides, wish magic only got you so far, so that was gone too. Though now that she thought about it, she remembered herself practicing windless magic countless times. A sigh escaped her lips when she remembered herself telling Dumbledore about her achievement and getting obliviated. Hm…now that she was back in time and since after her death unaffected by any spells or potions, she could try to use wandless magic.

Thinking the words 'Colloportus' and 'Muffliato', she waved her tiny hand and wondered why her magic responded so easily. Sure, she was pretty good at it when she was 15, but that was another matter altogether. Even then her magic didn't respond that well, and her body was currently five or six years old. To clear up the obvious confusion, she cast a Tempus charm and got that it was indeed her sixth birthday. A perfect birthday present would be to find out what was in that box.

Turns out it was quite useful indeed. In the box was one letter, written by Albus Dumbledore. She growled at his name, so first decided to read that to get it over with.

—

Dear Mrs. Dursley,

It is in my deepest regrets to inform you of your late sister and brother-in-law's death. A dark wizard, who called himself Voldemort, hunted them down and killed them. The only surviving member is their daughter Harriet.

But since all the people she was to go to are unable to care for her, you will be required to do so. I do not ask you to love her, but to simply give her an upbringing free of any spoiling and magic.

You will all be very safe as long as you stay in the house you are currently in. It is warded by a charm powered by the late Lily Potter. She jumped in front of her daughter, even though it meant dying. That made a strong shield go up, which will stay in power as long as Harriet stays with you or decides that your house is no longer her home. Then, the wards will fail and you won't be save anymore.

Again, I do not ask you to love Harriet Jamila Potter, but simply to care for her.

My sincerest condolences,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

—

Harriet growled. Of course Dumbledore would write it like this. Make them think they have no other choice than to take her in. Of course they'd hate her for having magic and taking space away they didn't even want to give up in the first place. They didn't even get to decline, since no one turned up to speak with them personally, but simply let a one-year-old baby girl freeze herself half to death in the middle of a cold November night full of rain. If she'd only been able to read that letter when she had the chance before. Damn Petunia! Because of her, Harriet couldn't read the letters in her old timeline. However, that was going to change, simply because she now knew the contents of this letter.

But that wasn't all, Harriet found. In the box were many notes on random topics. Be it essay drafts for Potions, or love letters, everything was inside it. Even the research about the Marauders Map and Animagi. On the bottom were also documents on Harriet's birth in both the muggle and the wizarding world. But that was basically all.

Harriet smiled. Ok, now she knew about Dumbledore's letter — the smile slipped slightly — and had plenty of notes written by her parents and the other Marauders throughout their school years. If that isn't a jackpot for her sixth birthday, then nothing would be. Harriet only just managed to stuff the box back under the cot, when she heard the locks of the cupboard click, so she removed the charms as to not be blamed for her aunt being unable to open the cupboard under the stairs.

"Go and make breakfast, Freak! And make sure you don't burn anything!", Petunia snarled from the cupboard door. Harriet mentally rubbed her hands together. Let the games begin.

"Ok, Aunt Petunia!", Harriet smiled. "I'll make sure to finish as fast as I can. Should I make pancakes for Dudley and Uncle Vernon, too? Or only eggs and bacon?" You could practically see the confusion and fear displaying in Petunia's face. Harriet had only ever said, 'Ok, Aunt Petunia' and stepped out of the cupboard to fill the demands. But never had she asked to do more than necessary.

"Um…y-you should make pancakes for Dudley and Vernon. I'm sure they'd like it. And, uh, set up a plate and some cutlery for you on the table, too. And now hurry up, Girl", Petunia stuttered at first, but became steadier as she continued. But something was different, Petunia just knew it. But what, she couldn't put her finger on. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. She'd just continue on with the day as every other one too, and maybe it'll come to her in the afternoon.

Harriet meanwhile frowned. Was it really that easy to get food? Just be nice and ask to do more than you're expected to do, and you get your own place with plate and all at the breakfast table? With bacon, eggs and pancakes? What a wonderful birthday that would be, she concluded as she started to prepare breakfast. It was hard with her small hands and tiny body, but on the other hand it was easier, because she had more practice in cooking than she'd had the first time around.

Suddenly, as she was setting the table while the pancakes sizzled in one and the eggs and bacon in the other, she heard something from the hall.

"So, Pet, did you put the Freak in its place?", she heard Vernon ask. Vernon had an awful habit of referring to her as a thing.

"Y-yes, V-v-vernon. She's in the k-kitchen preparing breakfast."

SLAP!

Petunia whimpered and Harriet nearly dropped the plate she'd been holding.

"What did I tell you about referring to the Freak as a human being? It's a thing, not a human!"

Harriet pretended not to hear anything, but really she listened in on the odd conversation.

"B-but why? She's just a little girl! And it's her birthday! Why not make it at least a little bit more bearable?"

Harriet could almost hear the sneer on Vernon's face as he said, "All the more reason to discipline the beast more! Not that it gets ideas and demands presents that are meant for our Dudley." He shook his head.

Harriet suddenly desperately tried to think of something else than being referred to as a beast. That madder realise something. When she met Tom after she died, she asked him what gave him the idea that she was Dumbledore's Golden Girl. But a few minutes later, she was ranting to Línnea about how wonderful he was. She really had to find out what that was about.

"If you are even a tad nice to that thing, you know what'll happen!"

Harriet peeked around the corner into the hallway and saw Vernon's hand raised and Petunia flinching back, tears on her face. She nodded violently.

"Y-yes, Vernon. I-I will discipline he- it."

That was all Harriet needed to hear. She couldn't believe it. All this time, and Petunia had wanted to help her? She was careful not to drop any hints that she knew about the fight, and finished setting the table before going back to the stove and finishing breakfast.

"You're still not finished making breakfast? Hurry up, Girl!", Petunia screeched, and this time you could hear the apology in her voice. Harriet wondered why she'd never noticed it before, or in her old life.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia. I'm almost finished. Look, it'll only take about a minute", she said, smiling up at her aunt to the best of her ability. She got a curt nod in return.

Breakfast was a quiet affair. Well, Petunia was quiet while listening to Dudley ranting about the presents he wants and Vernon ranting about his colleagues, Harriet, motorbikes, Harriet, teenagers and Harriet. Harriet sat at the table, swinging her feet under the table and eating the food she cooked. She only took some egg and bacon, and though she really wanted pancakes, she couldn't afford making her uncle and cousin mad at her on her birthday. Or, well, they're always mad at her, they couldn't be any different on birthdays. Only on Dudley's birthday would it be calmer, since they didn't want to make Dudley cry because of the loud noises, or spoiling his birthday. Rather ignore the freak instead of yelling at it.

After breakfast, Harriet started washing the dishes and putting them away when she heard someone clear their throat. Vernon was at work and Dudley at school (they kept Harriet at home for housework as often as they can find logical excuses for the school), so it had to be Petunia.

"Yes?", Harriet asked after turning around to face Petunia.

"Happy birthday, Harriet." Her voice was shaky, but that was to be expected. Vernon had only left five minutes ago and he could always have forgotten to take something.

Harriet again nearly dropped the plate she was holding and smiled. "Thank you, Aunt Petunia." Then her face got serious. "Why did Uncle Vernon slap you earlier? And why did you cry?"

Harriet almost expected an angry retort or a stuttered excuse and more orders, but what she certainly didn't expect was a full apology and explanation.