2. Remember My Last

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"She's got a target painted on her back" ~ All Time Low, Toxic Valentine

"What?" I ask blankly, spluttering slightly. 

"He left!" Mrs Figg says, wringing her hands. "Left to see someone about a batch of cauldrons that fell off the back of a broom! I told him I'd flay him alive if he went, and now look! Dementors! It's just lucky I put Mr Tibbles on the case! But we haven't got time to stand around! Hurry, now, we've got to get you back! Oh, the trouble this is going to cause! I will kill him!" 

"But - "

The revelation that our batty old neighbour knows that Dementors are is almost as big a shock to me as meeting two of them down an alleyway. 

"You're - you're a witch?"

"I'm a Squib, as Mundungus knows full well, so how on earth was I supposed to help you fight off Dementors? He left you completely without cover when I'd warned him - "

"This Mundungus has been following us?" I ask incredulously. 

"Yes, yes, yes - oh, what's Dumbledore going to say? You?" she shrieks at Dudley, still supine on the alley floor. "Get you fat bottom off the ground, quick!"

"You know Dumbledore?" Harry asks. 

"Of course I know Dumbledore, who doesn't know Dumbledore? But come on - I'll be no help if they come back, I've never so much as Transfigured a teabag."

She stoops down, seizes one of Dudley's massive arms and tugs. 

"Get up, you useless lump, get up!"

But Dudley either cannot move or will not move. He remains on the ground, trembling and ashen-faced. 

"I'll do it."

Harry takes hold of Dudley's arm and heaves. With enormous effort, he manages to hoist him to his feet. 

"Hurry up!" Mrs Figg says hysterically, grabbing my wrist and ushering me forwards. Behind me, I hear Harry struggle to haul Dudley forwards. "Keep your wands out," Mrs Figg orders, releasing her grip on my wrist. "Never mind the Statue of Secrecy now, there's going to be hell to pay anyway, we might as well be hanged for a dragon as an egg. Talk about the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery...this was exactly what Dumbledore was afraid of - What's that at the end of the street? Oh, it's just Mr Prentice...don't put your wands away, don't I keep telling you I'm no use?"

I pull my wand from my pocket once again. "Why didn't you tell us you were a Squib?" I ask, keeping an eye on Harry as he struggles to keep up. "All those times we were at your house - why didn't you say anything?"

"Dumbledore's orders, I was to keep an eye on the pair of you but no say anything, you were too young. I'm sorry I have you such a miserable time, but the Dursleys would never have let you come if they'd thought you enjoyed it. It wasn't easy, you know...but, oh my word," she says tragically, wringing her hands once again, "when Dumbledore hears about this - how could Mundungus have left, he was supposed to be on duty until midnight - where is he? How am I going to tell Dumbledore, I can't Apparate."

"We've got an owl, you can borrow her," Harry groans, and I briefly wonder if his spine is going to break under Dudley's weight. 

"Harry, you don't understand! Dumbledore will need to act as quickly as possible, the Ministry have their own ways of detecting underage magic, they'll know already, you mark my word."

"But he was just getting rid of the Dementors, it was self-defence," I say pointedly. "Surely the Ministry will be more concerned about the fact that two of their goddamned Dementors were floating around Wisteria Walk."

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