The next day after lunch, Uncle Marius and Aunt Clytemnestra put Harry into their car and drove to London. Along the way, Uncle Marius explained to Harry about magic, how he was a wizard and came from a long line of noble wizards, and how an evil wizard had murdered Harry's parents when he was a baby, failing to kill Harry in the process. Harry listened to his uncle's explanation with rapt attention. The Dursleys had told him that his parents had died in a car crash because his father was drunk. As would any sensible person, and particularly any six-year-old boy, Harry found the tale of his parents' heroic death at the hands of a Dark Lord far more satisfying. The news that Harry himself was a hero, however, and now revered by many throughout the wizarding world, was...disconcerting.
'But if I'm really so famous, how come no one noticed how I was being treated by the Durs-, er, the filthy Muggles?' Harry asked. Aunt Clytemnestra had explained to Harry that Muggles, people like the Dursleys who hated magic, were brutish swine who forced witches and wizards to live in hiding. That certainly accorded with Harry's own experiences.
Uncle Marius frowned. 'I have no doubt that Albus Dumbledore, a very powerful wizard, has been keeping careful watch over you. I don't know why he has allowed this nonsense to go on, but I am certain he has some political motivation.'
Harry wasn't sure that he liked Albus Dumbledore that much, not if he was the sort of person who would leave him with the Muggles for so long. Then a horrible thought stuck him.
'If he's been checking on me, he's bound to know you've taken me.' Harry began to panic. 'He'll send me back.'
Aunt Clytemnestra calmed him by patting his shoulder. 'Don't worry, Harry. If he already knew what we had done, he would have acted last night, or this morning. We are taking steps to cover our tracks, so that he'll never be able to find you. Your uncle paid another visit to the brutes this morning, and poured a bit of Forgetfulness Draught into their tea. They won't be able to tell Dumbledore anything.'
'Your aunt and I are Squibs,' Uncle Marius explained. 'We come from magical families, but we can't use magic, otherwise we should simply perform a memory charm. Nonetheless, we do have connexions with the magical world. There are potions we can use to change your appearance, and we'll change your name too, so that no one will know who you are.'
'Once we've taken care of that, we shall raise you in the wizarding world, as ought to be done,' Aunt Clytemnestra said fondly. 'We shall find you a magical tutor, and train you in all the details of wizarding life.' She began to stare wistfully out the window, and daubed her eyes with her handkerchief.
Harry nodded. He believed them, but shifted closer to his aunt anyway. He did not want to lose his new-found family.
When they arrived at number seventeen, Windermere Court, Harry's aunt raised the collar of his coat and pulled down his hat before letting him leave the car. She held his hand as they walked up the many steps to the entrance. The door had twenty-seven different locks, all of which unlocked simultaneously when Uncle Marius placed his hand on the doorknob. Aunt Clytemnestra bustled Harry inside and shut the door.
Harry had never seen such a house. It was as elegantly appointed as Uncle Marius's country home had been, though the wall hangings and furniture were rather faded. But the entire house seemed so alive. The many portraits that lined the walls moved and talked, and countless magical artefacts filled the rooms, occasionally making odd noises or puffing coloured smoke into the air. But the strangest thing at all about the house was its caretaker.
A little bald creature appeared in front of them out of thin air, dressed only in a tea towel. She bowed low.
'Mopsy is delighted to see her Master and Mistress Black,' she said. 'Will Master and Mistress be staying long?'
