16 The Evening

Bokuboy

The Ministry Of Magic was busy as always. A lot of it was makeshift work, things that could easily be handled by a bit of judicious magic applied correctly, and that was why it was never done. Wizards liked to keep busy when they worked, even if it seemed a little drudgery. They kept themselves occupied as much as possible, because idleness and complacency would only breed boredom and contempt.

The managers at the Ministry had known this for hundreds of years and had established a particular set of rules and circumstances in place to maintain business in their workers. Most jobs that could easily be handled by a single competent wizard had three wizards assigned to it as backups and to check the other wizard's work.

It established camaraderie and cooperation between the workers and it made for a cluttered and also happy workplace. They were all assured that a good job was being done, because they were all participating in those jobs and none of them wanted to look bad in the eyes of their peers.

One such worker in the magical maintenance department sat as his desk. He was having a particularly nasty problem with pixies that had nested inside the air ducts. Normally that wouldn't be a problem and they could be eradicated quickly. The problem was the little bastards were in a junction and any time someone approached, they scattered all throughout the system and made a mess of everything.

He let out a sigh when a letter plopped down into his in tray. “I hope that's not another blasted complaint.” He said automatically and reluctantly picked it up.

“That better not be another complaint.” His partner said. “We're still working on getting the vents closed off long enough to freeze the buggers out.”

“It's too bad we can't just Accio the damn things out.” The other man said as he stood off to the side and examined a map of the ducts. “I'm going to wring the neck of whoever let them in.”

The first man nodded acceptance and opened the letter. He took in a sharp breath and looked at the other two. “You are not going to believe this.”

*

Madam Primpernelle was a little confused as she read Harry's letter. What does me mean about a potion to fix his eyesight? I gave him no such thing. She thought. All I did was... Her thoughts stopped when she looked down at the list of items she had prepared as 'The Boy Who Lived' products. She hadn't included the extra spells and things she had tried, though. She also didn't include her newest potion that had yet to be approved by the Ministry.

She quickly wrote down the spells she remembered using and then she took out all of the recipes for her products that she had used. She was an expert potioneer and she didn't need the large book of extensive ingredients that listed their effects and side effects. She took her time and went over everything, even her newest potion, and she realized something.

Her new potion was only supposed to be used on a 'clean' client. Any other alterations she had done or they had used before, should have been removed before she had administered the potion. The skin Harry had shed and regrown had already been altered. When he shed it and had regrown his fresh and new baby skin, it wasn't his original baby skin. It was baby skin grown from the already altered skin.

Oh, dear. Madam Primpernelle said. She continued to work and examine exactly what might have occurred, and she couldn't come up with the answer. I just hope there's no other side effects.

She debated whether or not to tell him, then decided that as an eleven year old boy, he wouldn't understand the implications of having magically altered skin that was probably permanent.

*

Madam Malkin was filled with joy at Harry's letter. She read it over again and then wrote out a response. She told him that she would be delighted to come and pick him up whenever he wanted. She also told him that it should be done as soon as possible, that way he still has a fresh haircut and Madam Primpernelle's potions won't have a chance to wear down. At the moment, he looked his best and she couldn't wait to see him.

*

“Is this real?” The maintenance department manager asked the three men and held up the letter.

“I had one of the Aurors take a look.” The first man said. “It's already Unplottable and can't be found on a map. It also has several other protections on it already.”

“Are you sure it's not on the exceptions list already?” The manager asked.

“We checked it twice. It's listed as a muggle dwelling.” The second man said.

“You're kidding.” The manager said.

He shook his head and pointed to the third man.

“Something like this should also be unseen by the neighbours and it's visible by everyone. The magical protections on it are high grade as well. Why this isn't set up as a normal magical residence is beyond me.” The third man said. “Any little bit of magic, even accidental and without a wand, would set off all kinds of alarms and problems.”

“It would also breach the decree of secrecy that all wizards are under.” The first man said.

The manager nodded. “I agree. Because of who actually lives there, the person that this letter is from, I deem this is a high priority for our department to fix the situation.” He stood up and looked at the three men. “Get the other two teams. We will correct this error immediately.”

“Sir? Are you sure?” The first man asked.

The manager nodded. “Mr. Harry Potter, the boy who lived and got rid of you-know-who ten years ago, just asked the Ministry of Magic for help.” He said and smiled. “Who would be crazy enough to say no to his plea and leave him vulnerable to both expulsion from school and possible criminal charges?”

The three men had slightly angry faces.

“Exactly.” The manager said. “Let's get to work.”

“Sir!” The three men said and they and the manager left the office at a fast walk.

*

Harry had read through the short spell book and closed it. He had thought about using his wand to practice the wand movements the illustrations showed, then remembered that he wasn't allowed to do magic. He had settled for doing the motions with his quill, after drying it off. The last thing he needed was to sprinkle ink everywhere.

He put the book back in his trunk and changed his clothes. He had lounged around in his pyjamas for half the day already and he felt like it was time to get up and move around. He grabbed a handful of treats and left his cupboard. He carefully walked down the hallway and peeked into the living room. Uncle Vernon was still there on the couch and Aunt Petunia was right beside him. Dudley was nowhere to be seen.

Harry was a little worried about that, considering he hadn't heard Dudley pass by the cupboard. Of course, he had been deep into studying the book and practising the wand movements, and might have missed his passage. He just hoped Dudley had gone out the back and was gone for the day.

With that happy thought, Harry carefully slid into the living room. He didn't try to walk fast and did his best to be unobtrusive. He made his way over to the window, after a quick dash across his aunt and uncle's view of the television, then he walked over to the window and sat down in the chair nearby.

Almost as if she had planned it, Hedwig appeared off in the distance. Harry jerked and then took a breath. He had to restrain his excitement, or he would immediately lose his living room privileges. He slowly opened the window for Hedwig, who swooped in close and then landed on the sill.

“Hi, Hedwig.” Harry whispered and handed her several treats. “I hope you had a safe trip.”

Hedwig hooted softly and Harry let out a sigh.

“I wish I really could understand you, instead of just guessing.” Harry whispered and carefully touched her back feathers.

Hedwig let out another soft hoot, touched her beak with a wing tip and then brushed his ear.

Harry sat there and blinked his eyes several times. “You don't mean... can... is it possible?”

Hedwig hooted softly again.

“How?” Harry asked in a normal voice and covered his mouth. “I'm sorry.” He said to his aunt and uncle, then turned to Hedwig whispered. “I'm sorry. I know you can't really answer.” He said. “I wonder if there is someone I could ask about it.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw another owl. This one was a tawny brown with some black markings on its feathers. It was heading towards the front door and then saw Harry at the window. It diverted and swooped down, then landed on the sill.

Harry saw the letter in its beak and took it. “Shh.” He whispered and gave the bird an owl treat. To his surprise, it twittered in what looked like pleasure, then it tapped the letter with its beak. Harry opened it and inside was Madam Malkin's invitation to go to London and to her shop tomorrow for the portrait. He read her reasons and he agreed they were good reasons. At the bottom was the initials R.S.V.P.

Harry was at a loss for what it meant. He couldn't ask the owls, since they couldn't talk. He held his sigh and turned around. “Um... I... have a question.” He said, his voice low. “What does RSVP mean?”

Vernon glared at him and Harry winced a little. “Petunia.”

“It means to respond as soon as possible.” Petunia said. She wouldn't have said anything if her husband hadn't asked her to.

“Oh!” Harry exclaimed. “That makes sense. Thanks.” He said and quickly left the living room and went to his cupboard. He wrote out a response and put it in an envelope, wrote the return address, then went back to the living room. “Here you go.”

The brown owl hooted softly and accepted the envelope, then took off. Harry sat down by the open window, breathed in the cool evening air, and slowly pet his snowy white best friend.