White Heather for Protection

The Waiting Game

It was odd going back to the routine of serving the Dursleys after everything. Heather felt as if it'd been a whole lifetime since they'd had to make breakfast or mow the lawn or wash the car - even if it had just been two days ago. One marked difference in their whole song and dance, though, was that they both did much more magic than ever before.

"I need to practise for when you go to Hogwarts," for when you're gone, Hadrian had reasoned. Heather didn't have to heart to deny him anything, when so much had been denied to them both. And if Hadrian noticed her using her magic to make sure the Dursleys never caught him at it, he never let on.

So their days now mostly revolved around magic. Performing sneaky little feats of it by day and then immersing themselves in books by night.

A week after Hadrian's birthday, which had been celebrated in their usual way with the addition of Mrs Figg's apple pie (the stasis charms worked perfectly), Heather knew they had waited long enough. Thus, after dinner, Heather confronted Petunia and Vernon.

"I'm going to Hogwarts." There, straight and to-the-point. A statement, not a request.

It was interesting to see the numerous shades Vernon could turn. White, then green, then red, then purple, white again. Was he actually suffocating? Perhaps an aneurysm. One could only hope.

Then he backhanded her.

The force propelled her to the floor and she winced at both the pain and her brother's cry of distress. She knew she should have left him back in the relative safety of their cupboard. She looked up. And saw red.

"DON'T TOUCH HIM!"

The pig was advancing on her baby brother, fists raised, murder on his face. Heather had never seen him so furious before. She thought that she had known - and felt - the full force of Vernon's rage before (she would have had the scars to show for it if it weren't for magic). Apparently she was wrong. The man looked...unhinged.

A flashback to another villain, whose weapon of choice had been wood and words instead of belts and blows.

Without thinking, all the glass items in the house shattered. Petunia and Vernon were literally stunned in the middle of the hurricane of shrapnel. The splinters of glass whipped around their still bodies. Tiny, bloody cuts appeared all over their exposed skin while Heather and Hadrian remained untouched.

After what seemed like an interminably long time, but was likely only a few minutes, the glass vanished. Belatedly, Heather raised her (fake) wand. Hadrian had made them each fake wands out of twigs since they couldn't use her wand and they didn't want to expose their wandless magic.

Petunia and Vernon were still rooted to their spots, despite Heather having released her magical hold on them long ago. She was pleased to note that they looked horrified.

"Now, let's try this again," Heather began pleasantly. "I am going to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," she said the words with relish, enjoying their flinches, "to learn magic." Ignoring their obvious loathing, she continued, "You will not hit us. You will not touch us at all," her eyes darkened dangerously, "You don't bother us, we don't bother you. Simple. Unfortunately, we have to stay here until I come of age. In the meantime, if you so much as raise a voice or finger at Hadrian and I..." she let them fill in the blanks.

Nodding her head in Hadrian's direction, they both raised their 'wands' in tandem. The Dursleys' eyes widened in panic. "Yes, he can do magic too," she said, smirking widely.

Heather then curtseyed mockingly and they went back into the cupboard. She couldn't resist one last parting shot though.

"Glad to have come to an agreement, dear Uncle and Aunt."