Realistic Harry Potter
Harry was sitting quietly by the window, as was Hedwig, for a couple of hours. Neither of them wanting to disturb the small peace they had. Harry's aunt and uncle didn't complain because they had nothing to complain about. They wanted to, they really did. For some reason, they just couldn't object to having a handsome and composed boy sitting in their living room, even with the odd sight of him petting an owl.
Harry was looking all around with just his eyes and then he suddenly froze. A large group of people popped into existence right in front of their house. He saw them all raise their wands as one and then the house was covered in... something. His mouth dropped open as what looked like a golden bubble appeared and he felt the tingle of magic.
He knew he wasn't the only one, because he heard a squeal and a grunt behind him. He didn't dare turn around to look at them, though. The last thing he needed was to have that weird feeling attributed to him. Of course, his heart plummeted when one of the cloaked figures barked a few muffled words, then the group spread out and the man who spoke walked towards the front door.
Oh, no. Harry thought, then he whispered. “I'll be right back, Hedwig.”
Harry didn't even glance at his aunt and uncle as he darted across the room and quickly left their sight, walked down the hallway, then he unlocked and opened the door. A man's slightly startled face gazed down at him with his hand raised to knock.
The man's face changed to sternness. “Mr. Harry Potter?”
Harry shook slightly at the accusing tone. “Y-yes?”
The man grunted as a firm elbow hit him on the side and a woman stepped around him.
“Don't mind him. Maintenance men are a bit too gruff sometimes.” The woman said and held a hand out to Harry. “My name is Bertha Jorkins.”
Harry blinked his eyes for a moment, then reached for her hand and shook it.
“Ooo, very nice soft hands, Mr. Potter.” Bertha said. “Madam Primpernelle's work, I assume?”
Harry nodded and didn't say anything in response, because he promised that he wouldn't tell anyone exactly how much free work Madam Primpernelle did for him, as part of their agreement.
“I'm glad you're making use of the things available to wizards.” Bertha said and stared at him, then she gained a far-away look to her eyes. “What was I saying?”
“You were telling him why we are here.” The stern man said.
“Ah, yes.” Bertha let Harry's hand go. “I'm sorry, I was just remembering your father.”
“My... father?” Harry asked.
“Oh, yes. I went to school with him. Your mother, too.” Bertha said. “Handsome he was, unruly hair, though.” She looked at Harry again. “I'm glad you were smart to get most of that bird's nest chopped off.”
“You are?” Harry asked, a little surprised.
“It was one of the things that made James stand out, much to the consternation of his friends and the teachers.” Bertha said and smiled. “He almost never took the attention in a positive way and always managed to show off or get in trouble.”
Harry was a little flummoxed. My dad? A troublemaker? He thought and immediately remembered all of the things his aunt told him about his parents.
“No good layabouts, always causing trouble. I swear, they were made for each other!” Petunia had spat the last time Harry had asked about his mother and father. He hadn't asked again, because of the hatred he had seen in her eyes. He was just glad it wasn't directed at him that time, even though he had to scrub the toilet twice that day.
“That was at school, though. Once he was out, he caused trouble for you-know-who.” Bertha said with another big smile, then she realized what she said and her happy face turned sad. “Oh, listen to me, going on about ancient history.” She said. “Please, forgive me for bringing up painful memories.”
Harry just stared at her and didn't know what to say. Painful memories? What painful memories? I don't remember my parents at all. They died when I was one. He didn't say anything and she sighed.
“The Ministry of Magic received your letter and we are here to rectify the error made on your home.” Bertha said.
“You got my letter?” Harry asked, a bit glad to change the subject.
Bertha pointed a thumb over her shoulder at the stern man. “He is the head of the Magical Maintenance Department. One of his jobs is to maintain the list of magical dwellings in Britain.” She said. “This house was listed as a muggle dwelling and we are here to fix that.”
Bertha chuckled and the sound was pleasant to hear. “Dear boy, there are lots of magic dwellings scattered all over the place. You don't expect wizards and witches to only stay in the small communities they normally live in, do you? How would they meet others and possibly marry?”
Wizards and witches have whole communities? Harry asked himself, because he was a bit too stunned at the news to respond verbally.
“Now, where are the home owners? We need to inform them of the rules and procedures for having a magical dwelling.” Bertha said and walked right past him before he could say anything.
Oh no! Harry thought and quickly followed her to try and stop her from speaking to his aunt and uncle. He completely missed the other 12 people shuffling inside and splitting up to do their jobs.
“Good evening, Mr. And Mrs. Dursley.” Bertha said. “I'm Bertha Jorkins and I work for the Ministry of Magic.”
“You WHAT?!?” Vernon yelled and tried to stand up, then he groaned in pain and sat back down. “Ugh. Damn hernia.”
“Oh? Are you in pain?” Bertha asked, concern in her voice. “I'll call a healer as soon as the protections are in place.”
“P-protections?” Petunia asked. “I thought...”
“Yes, we know all about what's already on the house.” Bertha said. “That's why we're here.”
Petunia's face turned red, because she had made that old man swear to never have another magic person darken her doorstep, if he was allowed to put a few things on the house to keep her and the boy safe.
“Any dwelling with any kind of magical protections should have been registered with the Ministry. It was a terrible oversight to have both you and the famous Harry Potter be so vulnerable these past ten years.”
“V-v-vulnerable?” Petunia asked, her fear overriding her hatred of magic.
“Oh, yes. All sorts of dark wizards would have loved to hunt down the boy who lived and his family.”
“WHAT?!?” Vernon yelled and tried to jump to his feet and pulled his hernia even worse. “ARGH!”
“Now, now. Just relax.” Bertha said and gave them a smile. “Our maintenance department will have this place all set up within fifteen minutes.”
Just then, several wizards came into the living room and started casting spells. Some spoke the spells and some were just waving their wands. Everything was covered in magical energy and then the energy permeated everything and disappeared. They moved out of the living room and went into the kitchen to do it again. The television turned off and Vernon let out another grunt of pain.
Bertha chuckled. “Don't worry. After the magic settles for a few minutes, we can cast an exception on your refrigerator and the other appliances. This is a world aided by magic, not the dark ages!”
Vernon and Petunia gave her disbelieving looks.
“We do it this way for a simple reason. Can you imagine casting a preservation spell on everything you eat?” Bertha laughed. “That's all you would be doing! Oh, here's a bunch of grapes. I better start casting on each grape before they go bad.”
Harry stared at her with his mouth open.
“Yes, each individual thing would need the spell. If you cast it on just the branch, the branch would be fine and the grapes would wither.” Bertha explained. “It works for other larger things; but, any person would get sick of casting the same spell over and over, just so they can have a fresh meal the next day.”
Harry wasn't sure what to say to that. He would definitely like to learn that spell, especially if he could stockpile food that he would need for the next month.
“Ma'am, we're finished.” The stern man said from the entryway to the living room.
“Excellent!” Bertha said as all of the men gathered together. “Well done, all of you.”
The men all nodded and filed out of the room and the house, then they disappeared.
Chapter 17: 17 The Night
Harry was looking all around with just his eyes and then he suddenly froze. A large group of people popped into existence right in front of their house. He saw them all raise their wands as one and then the house was covered in... something. His mouth dropped open as what looked like a golden bubble appeared and he felt the tingle of magic.
He knew he wasn't the only one, because he heard a squeal and a grunt behind him. He didn't dare turn around to look at them, though. The last thing he needed was to have that weird feeling attributed to him. Of course, his heart plummeted when one of the cloaked figures barked a few muffled words, then the group spread out and the man who spoke walked towards the front door.
Oh, no. Harry thought, then he whispered. “I'll be right back, Hedwig.”
Harry didn't even glance at his aunt and uncle as he darted across the room and quickly left their sight, walked down the hallway, then he unlocked and opened the door. A man's slightly startled face gazed down at him with his hand raised to knock.
The man's face changed to sternness. “Mr. Harry Potter?”
Harry shook slightly at the accusing tone. “Y-yes?”
The man grunted as a firm elbow hit him on the side and a woman stepped around him.
“Don't mind him. Maintenance men are a bit too gruff sometimes.” The woman said and held a hand out to Harry. “My name is Bertha Jorkins.”
Harry blinked his eyes for a moment, then reached for her hand and shook it.
“Ooo, very nice soft hands, Mr. Potter.” Bertha said. “Madam Primpernelle's work, I assume?”
Harry nodded and didn't say anything in response, because he promised that he wouldn't tell anyone exactly how much free work Madam Primpernelle did for him, as part of their agreement.
“I'm glad you're making use of the things available to wizards.” Bertha said and stared at him, then she gained a far-away look to her eyes. “What was I saying?”
“You were telling him why we are here.” The stern man said.
“Ah, yes.” Bertha let Harry's hand go. “I'm sorry, I was just remembering your father.”
“My... father?” Harry asked.
“Oh, yes. I went to school with him. Your mother, too.” Bertha said. “Handsome he was, unruly hair, though.” She looked at Harry again. “I'm glad you were smart to get most of that bird's nest chopped off.”
“You are?” Harry asked, a little surprised.
“It was one of the things that made James stand out, much to the consternation of his friends and the teachers.” Bertha said and smiled. “He almost never took the attention in a positive way and always managed to show off or get in trouble.”
Harry was a little flummoxed. My dad? A troublemaker? He thought and immediately remembered all of the things his aunt told him about his parents.
“That was at school, though. Once he was out, he caused trouble for you-know-who.” Bertha said with another big smile, then she realized what she said and her happy face turned sad. “Oh, listen to me, going on about ancient history.” She said. “Please, forgive me for bringing up painful memories.”
Harry just stared at her and didn't know what to say. Painful memories? What painful memories? I don't remember my parents at all. They died when I was one. He didn't say anything and she sighed.
“The Ministry of Magic received your letter and we are here to rectify the error made on your home.” Bertha said.
“You got my letter?” Harry asked, a bit glad to change the subject.
Bertha pointed a thumb over her shoulder at the stern man. “He is the head of the Magical Maintenance Department. One of his jobs is to maintain the list of magical dwellings in Britain.” She said. “This house was listed as a muggle dwelling and we are here to fix that.”
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“But, it is a muggle dwelling.” Harry said. “It's right here in the middle of other muggle dwellings.”Bertha chuckled and the sound was pleasant to hear. “Dear boy, there are lots of magic dwellings scattered all over the place. You don't expect wizards and witches to only stay in the small communities they normally live in, do you? How would they meet others and possibly marry?”
Wizards and witches have whole communities? Harry asked himself, because he was a bit too stunned at the news to respond verbally.
“Now, where are the home owners? We need to inform them of the rules and procedures for having a magical dwelling.” Bertha said and walked right past him before he could say anything.
Oh no! Harry thought and quickly followed her to try and stop her from speaking to his aunt and uncle. He completely missed the other 12 people shuffling inside and splitting up to do their jobs.
“Good evening, Mr. And Mrs. Dursley.” Bertha said. “I'm Bertha Jorkins and I work for the Ministry of Magic.”
“You WHAT?!?” Vernon yelled and tried to stand up, then he groaned in pain and sat back down. “Ugh. Damn hernia.”
“Oh? Are you in pain?” Bertha asked, concern in her voice. “I'll call a healer as soon as the protections are in place.”
“P-protections?” Petunia asked. “I thought...”
“Yes, we know all about what's already on the house.” Bertha said. “That's why we're here.”
Petunia's face turned red, because she had made that old man swear to never have another magic person darken her doorstep, if he was allowed to put a few things on the house to keep her and the boy safe.
“Any dwelling with any kind of magical protections should have been registered with the Ministry. It was a terrible oversight to have both you and the famous Harry Potter be so vulnerable these past ten years.”
“V-v-vulnerable?” Petunia asked, her fear overriding her hatred of magic.
“Oh, yes. All sorts of dark wizards would have loved to hunt down the boy who lived and his family.”
“Now, now. Just relax.” Bertha said and gave them a smile. “Our maintenance department will have this place all set up within fifteen minutes.”
Just then, several wizards came into the living room and started casting spells. Some spoke the spells and some were just waving their wands. Everything was covered in magical energy and then the energy permeated everything and disappeared. They moved out of the living room and went into the kitchen to do it again. The television turned off and Vernon let out another grunt of pain.
Bertha chuckled. “Don't worry. After the magic settles for a few minutes, we can cast an exception on your refrigerator and the other appliances. This is a world aided by magic, not the dark ages!”
Vernon and Petunia gave her disbelieving looks.
“We do it this way for a simple reason. Can you imagine casting a preservation spell on everything you eat?” Bertha laughed. “That's all you would be doing! Oh, here's a bunch of grapes. I better start casting on each grape before they go bad.”
Harry stared at her with his mouth open.
“Yes, each individual thing would need the spell. If you cast it on just the branch, the branch would be fine and the grapes would wither.” Bertha explained. “It works for other larger things; but, any person would get sick of casting the same spell over and over, just so they can have a fresh meal the next day.”
Harry wasn't sure what to say to that. He would definitely like to learn that spell, especially if he could stockpile food that he would need for the next month.
“Ma'am, we're finished.” The stern man said from the entryway to the living room.
“Excellent!” Bertha said as all of the men gathered together. “Well done, all of you.”
The men all nodded and filed out of the room and the house, then they disappeared.
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