"Don't get worked up, Vernon. No need to make a scene," Petunia said, forcing a smile to mask her unease.
Vernon's grip tightened on his glass until it shattered, shards scattering across the table. He shot Harry a venomous glare. "Boy, clean this mess up—now!"
Petunia treated Harry like hired help, devoid of any warmth. He shuffled forward, cheeks burning with resentment. Grabbing a rag, he wiped the spilled red wine from the table and swept up the broken glass from the floor. He couldn't sense the faint magical ripple, so he chalked it up to Vernon's clumsiness.
Harry seethed inwardly. "She squeezed it too hard herself—why dump it on me? Just because I'm the wizard in the family?"
Petunia prattled on, jabbing a finger toward Harry's parents. "Irresponsible lot, the pair of them. Kids from parents like that turn out—"
"Shut it!" Harry exploded, his voice cutting through the room like a whip. Heads turned, the air thick with shock.
Outside the window, Sirius Black grinned fiercely. "That's my boy! Give 'em hell, Harry!"
Lupin, however, frowned with concern. "He can't keep living like this, Sirius. The Dursleys are grinding him down."
Sirius waved it off. "Did you see that fire? Pure Gryffindor guts, just like James Potter. He'll be fine."
Inside, Petunia eyed Harry's outburst with disdain, not a flicker of remorse. "Fine, you little punk. Your parents were nothing but lowlifes—"
She never finished. Her body ballooned outward, inflating like a parade float. Buttons popped from her blouse, her necklace snapping as she swelled grotesquely.
Vernon and Petunia gaped, dumbfounded—Harry had actually done it.
Marge flailed in panic, her massive form bobbing toward the ceiling before drifting out the open door. "Vernon! Help! Do something!"
Petunia shrieked and backed away, while Vernon lunged, grabbing her ankle. But his own bulk betrayed him; he couldn't haul her down. They watched helplessly as Marge ascended into the night sky, her wails fading into the clouds.
"Bloody hell," Sirius muttered, pride evaporating. Lupin yanked his arm. "Snap out of it—we've got to follow her. If she crashes, Harry's Azkaban-bound!"
Sirius jolted into action, and they bolted after the floating aunt.
Realizing the catastrophe he'd unleashed, Harry dashed upstairs to stuff his trunk. He nearly collided with Vernon storming up the stairs.
"Get her back here, boy! Fix her—now!"
"She had it coming," Harry shot back defiantly.
Rage boiled over. Vernon slammed Harry against the wall. "You—"
But Vernon froze, fury draining as Harry's wand jabbed into his chest. "Back off."
"N-no... You can't use magic outside school..." Vernon stammered, retreating in terror, visions of ballooning dancing in his head.
"Want to test that?" Harry advanced, yanking his trunk downstairs. Dusk fell heavy around them.
"They won't let you back at that freak school till term starts!" Vernon called, emboldened. "You're on your own!"
"Anywhere's better than here," Harry snarled, dragging his belongings out the door and into the gathering dark.
Exhausted and adrift, Harry flagged down the Knight Bus outside. The wild ride deposited him at the Leaky Cauldron, where a stooped figure—Tom, the innkeeper—ushered him to Room 11 without a word.
Hedwig hooted excitedly from her cage. "Clever bird you've got, Mr. Potter," came a familiar voice from the shadows. "Beat you here by five minutes."
Cornelius Fudge emerged, his bow tie askew. "As Minister for Magic, I must inform you: We found your aunt near Sheffield. The Accidental Magic Reversal Squad deflated her and wiped her memory. No recollection of the... incident."
Harry's stomach twisted. "Minister, I—"
"Relax, lad." Fudge beamed, his mood buoyed by his climbing influence at the Ministry. He still needed Dumbledore's clout to keep the pure-bloods in check—and Harry was the perfect lure for Sirius Black. No sense antagonizing the boy now. "The Ministry isn't about to Azkaban a schoolboy for turning his aunt into a blimp. Though, running off like that? Bit reckless, given the times."
Harry's brow furrowed. "You mean Sirius? That's got nothing to do with me."
Fudge's grin stretched wider. "Precisely! You're safe—that's what matters. Tom'll sort your stay. Off you go."
Tom hustled Harry out by the collar, leaving Fudge alone. In the dim lamplight, the minister's face twisted into something sly and unreadable...
...
"Whoa—easy there, Padfoot. We've lost them," Lupin gasped, collapsing onto the damp grass after a frantic chase. He wheezed, hands on knees. "When did the Ministry get this quick? Good thing we jumped in early, or we'd be nicked for sure."
Sirius slumped beside him, heart pounding. They'd barely reversed the spell and cast a Memory Charm on Marge when Ministry officials swarmed in.
Lupin glanced at the starry sky, worry etching his features. "Too late now. Won't make it home—and definitely missing that meeting with the acolytes."
Sirius groaned. "If it's a hassle, head back to Knockturn Alley solo. I can fend for myself."
"Stuff that," Lupin snapped. "We're in this together."
Sirius bristled. "Come on—what's your plan? We need a roof, food—"
A hoot interrupted them. An owl swooped low, dropping a thick envelope squarely on Lupin's forehead.
"Hogwarts seal," Lupin murmured, rubbing the spot. For a split second, he feared Dumbledore had sniffed out Sirius. But as he tore it open, his eyes widened.
"Dear Mr. Remus John Lupin," he read aloud, voice trembling. "We are pleased to invite you to join the staff of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts..."
Lupin blinked at the parchment, stunned. Slowly, a grin broke through. "Padfoot... looks like we're heading to Hogwarts after all."
---
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