Secrets, Lies and the Daily Prophet (Alt. Fifth Year Fic)

Chapter Sixteen: Aunt Petunia Pesters Harry

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Harry had slipped into a comfortable routine with the Dursleys. He woke up in the morning, took his shower, got dressed and headed for Professor Figg's house and returned to the Dursleys's house after dinner. He would head straight for his bedroom where he would read over his course schedule and plan out what he needed to cover the next day. He hadn't seen or talked with the Dursleys in weeks. This seemed to have suited everyone. Then Harry realized one night that he couldn't stay hidden in his room that night because he needed to do laundry.

He took a towel and wadded his clothes up and gathered the top of the towel and dragged it downstairs to the laundry room. No sooner had the water started filling the washing machine did his Aunt Petunia show her face into the cramped room.

"Harry," she said shrilly. "I haven't seen you in weeks. I have a few questions for you."

He started getting a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knew she wanted grist for the gossip mill. He actively tried to remember everything that Professor Figg and Sirius had told them about their cover.

"How is Mrs. Figg treating you?"

Like you'd really care about how anyone was treating me, Harry thought darkly. "Okay, I guess," he answered.

"What is she having you do – all day, every day?"

"Different stuff around the house," he shrugged. "I helped her put new wallpaper up."

"Wallpaper? Hmm. How is she doing? No one's seen her outside taking her walks in a long time."

Harry knew that was because Professor Figg hadn't been taking her aging potion and instead was staying safely inside since Sirius could do the outside surveillance for her.

"Er, she twisted her knee pretty badly, so she's trying to stay off it for awhile."

"What's she like?"

"She's a lonely old lady," Harry sighed. "She doesn't have many people to talk to – that's why she has so many cats. They keep her company."

"What about her nephew? What do you think of him?"

"He's okay. He keeps to himself mostly. He's busy writing, so I don't get a chance to talk with him much."

"I heard he's some academic sort," she said with an accusation in her voice.

"I guess. He's said a few things about the Enlightenment and I don't understand what he's talking about so I just nod my head every once and awhile."

That seemed to satisfy his aunt. She started to leave the doorway when she turned around with a new question.

"She lives in a small house. Where does he sleep?"

"I don't know. There's an upstairs bedroom – I assume that's where he's sleeping," Harry answered.

Then he thought about that bedroom being full of surveillance equipment. Just where is he sleeping, he wondered. Then he thought of Professor Figg's double bed and felt his cheeks begin to burn. He turned his back and sorted his clothes so his aunt wouldn't see his red face.

"Is she still planning on leaving to see her sister?"

"Yeah, she's been on the phone a lot talking with people – her sister, doctors and others. I think she's now planning on leaving in late August or early September." Yeah, on the Hogwarts Express. "Well, I've got homework I have to work on – so if you don't mind," Harry said as he tried to squeeze past his aunt.

"Very well, you may go. And I don't want you doing laundry all night long. I'd rather not hear that racket while I'm trying to sleep."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry nodded and quickly bounded up the stairs two at a time.

He wanted to put as much distance as he could between himself and his aunt. She made him nervous and he hoped his answers would satisfy her. He spent the rest of the night listening carefully from his bedroom to every sound of the washer and dryer. When he went downstairs later he saw his Aunt Petunia examining a pair of his underwear. He immediately felt blood rushing to his cheeks.

"It looks like the elastic is going on these. You should get some new ones before you go back in September," she said looking at them with disgust.

She can't even force herself to say the words, "go back to school" Harry thought. He didn't want any more of Dudley's hand-me-downs, especially his underwear. Talk about worn elastic. Harry would need to tie ropes around his waist to wear those.

"Is Mrs. Figg paying you for all that work you're doing?" she asked.

So that's why she wanted to talk with me, thought Harry.

"Yeah, five pounds a week. I know it's not much, but she's on a fixed income and I'm not all that handy so..." he trailed off.

"Well, by the end of the summer you should have earned forty pounds. You ought to be able to buy your own clothes. Maybe that nephew of hers – what's his name, again?" she asked with her eyes narrowing.

"Umm, Joseph."

"Joseph, what?"

"Joseph O'Brien, I think," he replied.

"Well, maybe Joseph O'Brien could go with you clothes shopping as I don't know that I'll have any time for that," she snapped and then turned on her heel and left. Harry watched her leave with his mouth wide open. Well, yeah I'd much rather go shopping with Sirius than you Any Day.

Author's note: I realize this was a short chapter so the next upload will be sooner to make up for the paltry amount. Next up is Harry's Fifteenth Birthday and he receives a special gift that once belonged to his mother.