The Missing Harry Potter and his Taxi Driver Aunt

"I don't really like Aunt Marge."

Her dogs were kinda cool, but she worked as a taxi driver, or something. The house decor used to scare me a lot. Also a lot of her dogs were gone when we visited the last time- died, I think. We don't go there anymore, so I don't think she knows what happened.

Mum used to be really weirded out by her. Said it was "perverted" and "unnatural" and "freakish", the things she did.

Of course, when Harry was still around, those complaints were drowned out pretty quickly.

What? Because she always called Harry a freak, obviously. And I don't really blame her, the things he did were so weird. I can't tell you how many times he changed the cupboard door color, or teleported away whenever we tried to play with him. Don't try to tell me anything like that is even close to normal.

Right, when I saw him last. Uh, I think we were seven? So four years ago, yeah, right before we moved away. He did something that really pissed Dad off- I think he burnt the eggs, maybe?- and instead of beating him up like he normally did, Dad said something like "I'm done with putting up with your freakishness, you're coming with me!" And then he hauled him into the car and drove off and that was the last I saw of him.

And don't tell Mum this, but I personally think good riddance. I liked that I didn't have to do chores, but it was annoying having to put up with him all the time. Now we have a maid and a bigger house and a new SNES, isn't that awesome!

Yeah, that's my old address.

Well, if you have a tracker on him, you should be able to find him.

There's no way he's in that house! I didn't see him at all before we moved, he wasn't talking or making noises or cooking lunch or anything. No, there's no chance. You're wrong!

Pssh, Harry didn't sleep in a second bedroom, he slept in the cupboard! Or outside, depending on if he didn't weed Mum's gardens well enough.

The one under the stairs, duh.

What do you mean, there's no cupboard- ohh. Yeah, I remember Dad was doing something while Mum and I were packing. It was really dusty down there one night, lots of powder and buckets of water. I remember I snuck downstairs to get some of my Halloween candy and Dad was dragging something in a garbage bag inside. He saw me coming down and said I could have any ice cream I wanted for breakfast if I didn't tell Mum, and I said that I would have it every day for a week and then we'd have a deal, and we shook on it.

Of course I didn't tell Mum. Dad said he didn't want any bad memories, so he was sealing it up, and it was a surprise for her. He didn't talk about it at all after. Can you hurry it up already? I really have to get back to my game.

I woke up the next morning and Dad and Mum were putting new wallpaper in the hallway, even on top of where the cupboard was, and then we left and now we live here. There, are you happy?

Finally, now go away and leave me alone.

---

Mad-Eye Moody still wants nothing more than to throttle the whale of a boy. Even reading the transcript of the interview was infuriating, he's got no idea how Dumbledore had put up with talking to the kid for that long.

Grunting, he shoves open the door to Number 4 Privet Drive.

It's derelict and dusty, a rotating door of new houseowners moving out thanks to bad luck or supernatural occurrences (not that any self-respecting, sane person would admit to such a thing, thank you very much). It currently lies uninhabited, smelling of mildew and shadows, and he casts a quick bubble-head charm.

"Under the stairs, eh?" Auror Trainee Tonks mutters, fingers inches away from her holster. Moody nods, whips his own wand out, and yells a quick "Bombartutus!" at the wall.

Small explosions rip open the wallpaper, then pound against the long-dried concrete filling up the tiny space; chipping away until the first sign of black plastic bag is visible.

With practiced ease becoming increasingly unsettled by the prospect of what he might find, he traces his wand slowly, and slashes the spell's end when the stone around the bag has been fully destroyed.

Behind him Robards levitates the bag to the floor. Moody nods the Auror thanks and uses a quiet Diffindo to slice through the multiple layers of duct tape and plastic.

A jar with cloudy liquid rolls out, and Tonks quickly rights it without a second glance.

As one, the three lean over the bag.

And as Tonks runs outside to vomit and Robards starts yelling bloody murder, Moody staggers back- looking between glassy green eyes embedded in grey skin, and the gelatinous, stringy spheres in the jar- instinctively correcting the transcript in his mind.

Not "taxi driver".

Taxidermist.