Chapter Text
After the mild lecture they had received for their stunt in Mr Weasley's flying car, and the reasonable punishment Professor McGonagall had doled out, Harry and Ron had not expected to be pulled out of their very first class the next day and sent to the Headmaster's office. Still, when a Ravenclaw Prefect came to fetch them in Herbology, they had no choice but to follow.
If a single one of them had been called, they could have thought that the summon was about something entirely different. As it was, it was quite unlikely, and the boys were starting to fear that Professor Snape might have won the case in the end. The bat-like professor had been adamant they deserved expulsion the previous day, and the teenagers had to admit, in retrospect, that their actions had been rather ill-thought. Maybe not enough to deserve expulsion, but they had certainly gotten off lightly with just a detention each.
Their walk back to the castle and up to the Second Floor was filled with nerves and anxiety. Ron was dreading the possibility that his mother might have decided her morning Howler not to be enough and have made the trip to berate him herself. Harry, as for him, could not imagine the Dursleys getting involved in any way with his school life but the fact that he could not fathom what would happen to them in the Headmaster's office did nothing to ease his mind.
When they arrived, the Prefect, a girl by the name of Penelope Clearwater, opened the gargoyle for them by stating the password - Fizzing Whizbee - and gestured for them to step on the revolving stairs. Despite his nerves, Harry was a bit impressed by the room the stairs led to: it was a wide and well-appointed circular space. Portraits of previous heads covered its walls and a table full of smoking, whirring gizmos stood to the side. Opposite to it, a few marble steps led to a delicately decorated wooden cabinet. On a shelf, the boys recognised the Sorting Hat, which looked quite worse for wear when it was not animated. Harry's attention was drawn to a beautiful, regal bird resting on its perch next to the desk. The animal appeared to be on fire, its feathers in mixed shades of red, orange and warm yellow. It thrilled at their entrance before going back to preening itself studiously.
Professor Dumbledore was sat behind his desk, a sombre expression on his face. Professor McGonagall stood at his side and her mouth even more pinched than usual. It was obvious that the two children had not been called here for good news, but Ron was already relaxing slightly at the absence of his parents, probably deeming additional detentions to be more acceptable than a face-to-face telling-off from his guardians.
"My boys, sit down, please."
Both obeyed silently, grabbing a stool each and lowering themselves on them.
"I am afraid that your little adventure of yesterday has had more consequences than expected. Photographs of your travels have circulated in a small-town newspaper and the Obliviators have had to work overtime to contain the damage. As a result, the Ministry is calling for sanctions against you."
The two children blanched at that. If the Ministry was getting involved, it could not mean anything good for them. Ron was especially afraid that his family would get fined outrageously for the possession of the car, while Harry was thinking of the warning he had received that summer when Dobby had used magic at the Dursleys, and of Hagrid who had had his wand snapped when expelled from Hogwarts.
"I have been able to dissuade them from taking too drastic measures, but we have come to the agreement that maybe detentions would not suffice to teach you that your actions have consequences. Therefore, I am suspending you for a month. You will leave your wands with me for safe-keeping and Professor McGonagall will escort you home. She will also collect you when your suspension is over. I trust you will use that time to reflect on what happened and study to keep up with your schoolmates at least on the theoretical side of things."
Suspended! Harry was devastated. An additional month at the Dursleys, when they expected to be rid of him for the full school year, was going to be hell. And this time there would be no Weasleys in a flying car to save him if his relatives decided to lock him in his room and forget all about him.
Ron was obviously thinking along the same line of thoughts because he started to plead to the Headmaster:
"Could Harry come home with me, please? His guardians are going to be absolutely angry about him being back and I'm sure my parents would not mind."
"I'm afraid it isn't a matter of your parents agreeing in this case, Mister Weasley. This is not a holiday and a suspension has to be spent at one's home. In addition to this, I doubt your parents will be any happier than the Dursleys about your suspension. While your loyalty to your friend is commendable, maybe you should focus on your own situation for the moment? I am sure Mister Potter will be fine once his guardians have lectured him for his bad choices, just like you will be."
"But, sir, you don't know..."
"This is not up for discussion, Mister Weasley. Now, the house elves should have brought your things to the Entrance Hall, so it is time for you to leave. Professor McGonagall will take care of explaining things to your respective guardians. Please hand over your wands. I promise I will take good care of them."
With terribly heavy hearts, the young boys complied and placed the precious pieces of wood in the extended hand of the Headmaster, who deposited them into a rectangular case made of cherry wood and proceeded to lock the box away in a drawer of his desk.
"Thank you. It is time for you to go now. I will see you in a month."
With that curt dismissal, Professor McGonagall started moving and ushered them out of the office and into the hallway. Harry followed meekly, a bit shell-shocked by this last turn of events. He had felt hope at his friend's intervention but he now knew that there was no escaping the situation and that he would have to suffer the Dursleys' tender care for another month. All because of one stupid decision on his part.
Their trunks were waiting for them in the Entrance Hall, as predicted by Professor Dumbledore. Their Transfiguration professor wasted no time in shrinking them with a flourish of her wand and pocketed them, assuring Harry that she would unshrink his before leaving his relatives' place, as they could not do it themselves.
Harry, who felt a little piece of himself die when he crossed the door to go outside, did not even react to the horse-less carriage sitting just before them. What did it matter what magic could accomplish when the magical world was kicking him out? He had thought he had finally found a home in Hogwarts but it was now taken away from him, just like any good thing that had happened to him before.
Despite the fact that the carriage was heated, he felt colder and colder as they rode the path to Hogsmeade. Would they take the train, he wondered? Or would they Floo to the Leaky Cauldron? In either case, how would they travel from London to Surrey and Devon? Would they go to Ottery St Catchpole first, so Harry would not have to suffer through the humiliation of his friend hearing the abuse the Dursleys were sure to heap on him the moment he showed up at their door?
Harry's bleak train of thoughts was interrupted when the carriage stopped well before they had reached Hogsmeade. In fact, they were barely out of the gates when it came to a stop and Professor McGonagall signalled for them to climb down. A split second, Harry feared that she would just abandon them here, in the Scottish countryside without a wand or a mean to contact anyone, barring them entry to the castle. It was silly, of course, as Professor Dumbledore himself had assured them that she would take them back to their relatives' houses to explain the situation, but he only relaxed when she grabbed their arms and warned him:
"We are going to Apparate, Mister Potter. It is a common mean of transportation for adult wizards but it can be a bit unpleasant for passengers. Hold on and do not let go."
With that said, she took a breath and the next thing Harry knew, everything had gone black and he felt pressure from every side. Breathing was increasingly difficult as a lofty weight seemed to constrict his chest. His eyes and ears hurt from the strain and he felt as if his guts were trying to come out the wrong way. As suddenly as they started, the sensations ended, leaving him heavily disoriented and retching. He felt the professor let go of his arm but thankfully she gave him a few seconds to compose himself before moving.
When the ground stopped moving and all his organs appeared to have settled back into their rightful place, Harry looked up to realise that they were in a dark back alley he knew very well from having hidden there multiple times to try and escape his cousin. At least the bully would not be there to make Harry's suspension more miserable than it was already going to be.
Seeing that he had regained his bearings, Professor McGonagall taped each of them with her wand, as well as herself, transfiguring their clothing into a combination of shirts and slacks that were much more appropriate for the Muggle world. She then strode toward the main street, obviously expecting them to follow.
Privet Drive was as pristine and uninteresting as it had been when Harry had left it a month prior. The cookie-cutter houses were still lined up perfectly, their flowers tended to and their grass cut to a T. Considering the time of the day, no cars were waiting, shining, in the driveways. It made Harry realise that he probably would not have to deal with his uncle until the evening. Thank Merlin for small mercies, his aunt was far less likely to call him names in front of visitors, even if they were despised wizards and witches, so he would be able to save face in front of Ron.
Trudging after their Transfiguration professor, the boys reached Number 4, Privet Drive in no time. She knocked on the door and they all waited as footsteps could be heard hurrying from inside the house. Petunia Dursley opened the door and immediately made a disgusted face at his presence.
"I thought we were done with you for the year! Does this have to do with the letter we received yesterday? We already told you people that we wanted nothing to do with that school!"
Unphased, their teacher retorted:
"Maybe you could invite use inside? Unless you want us to have this discussion on your doorstep, of course."
Petunia scowled in a way that would have made Professor Snape proud but she opened the door wider and stepped aside to let them in. She turned on them as soon as she closed the door, not even directing them to the living room, and demanded to know what they were doing there.
"As stated in the letter the Headmaster sent you, Mr Potter and Mr Weasley here have broken the Statute of Secrecy yesterday. As a result, it has been decided that they will be suspended from Hogwarts for a month. They are of course forbidden from practising magic during that time, so their wands have remained at the school. I will be coming to fetch Mr Potter in a month's time, before breakfast. Do you have any questions?"
"Suspended? Can't you people force him on someone else? We already do our duty during the summer, surely you don't expect us to accommodate him as so little notice, especially now that it's been proven that he is a delinquent!"
"Yes, madam, I expect you to do exactly that. Now, if you don't have any questions, I will be on my way. I still have to deliver Mister Weasley back to his parents before my next class. I bid you a good day. Mister Potter."
She inclined her head to him and turned around to leave, before remembering that she still had his trunk. Without wasting time, she took it out of her pocket and set it done, enlarging it with another non-verbal spell. She then strode toward the door, taking Ron with her and leaving Harry alone with his aunt.
"Well, you are you standing here for, boy? Since you're such a handful that even that freak school of yours don't want anything to do with you anymore, you might as well make yourself useful here! Stick that trunk in your cupboard and get to work in the garden!"
Harry recoiled at the shrill, angry tone of her voice, already wishing he was anywhere but back at his relatives. He knew better than to complain, however, especially since he had no one but himself to blame for the situation, so he grabbed his trunk and trudged to his cupboard, dragging it loudly behind him. It was a bit of a challenge to make it fit in the restricted space but Harry finally managed to squeeze it in.
He made his way to the garden. He grabbed a pair of protective gloves from the shed at the back and knelt in front of the first bush he came to. His aunt had not given him any specific instruction so he elected to start with his less detested outdoor task, weeding the flower beds. He knew that she would have time to order him to do all sort of things until the month was up but he figured there was no reason to make it any more unpleasant for himself than strictly necessary.
The rest of the morning went by quickly and he was given a cold turkey sandwich for lunch before being commanded to mow the grass and clear the gutters. He complied, aware that by now the neighbouring housewives would have realised something was amiss in the Dursleys' household and were most probably starting at him working through their curtains. He already had the reputation of a miscreant and small-time delinquent, so their guesses as to why he was back so soon after the beginning of the school year probably would not be too far off from the truth. Though with the lies Vernon had spread about him going to St Brutus, they were most likely imaging he had committed murder or something of that level to have been kicked out of the penitentiary school. None of them would be anywhere close to guessing he had flown a car to school. The thought of explaining the reason for his suspension to any of the stuck-up women Aunt Petunia often had for tea drew a small giggle from Harry. They would choke on their scones!
As the day unfolded and the time for Vernon to come home was drawing closer, Harry was beginning to feel more and more apprehensive. The man was due to be highly unhappy, not to say furious, about his presence, and Harry would be lucky if he did not end up locked up in his room for the duration of his suspension with only scraps to eat and two bathroom breaks a day, as had been the case before the twins and Ron had rescued him during the summer. While they were tedious, Harry still preferred to perform chores around the house than being bored out of his mind. And Dumbledore expected him to keep up with his studies? How was he supposed to do that when all of his magical things were locked in the cupboard under the stairs? At least Hedwig had stayed at Hogwarts so he would not have to worry about Vernon taking his rage out on her.
All too soon, Petunia called him in to cook dinner -a roast with green beans and gravy. He was taking the meat out of the oven when he heard the telltale screeching of tires on gravel, followed by the slamming of the car door. He considered scampering upstairs before his uncle came in, leaving his aunt to break the news to Vernon, but it was too late, as the front door opened and closed. Petunia hurried to her husband side to take his coat and simper at him. From the booming voice that resonated from the hallway, the despicable man was in a good mood. It, of course, did not last long when he caught sight of Harry through the kitchen door.
"What is he doing here?"
"The idiot boy was suspended for a month! But don't worry, lamb, I will keep him out of your way."
She threw a glare at Harry and make a shooing gesture at him.
"Set the meal on the table, boy, and go to your room."
Sensing that he would not get anything to eat tonight, but glad to have -for now- apparently avoided Vernon's wrath, Harry hurried to put the roast and its sides on the table that he had already set and scurried upstairs under the hateful eyes of his uncle.
A few days went by with nothing of particular interest happening. He carried out his chores, stayed out of his uncle's way and mourned Hogwarts and its magic. The routine of it all lulled him into a false sense of security, so he did not think much of it when Vernon came home from work on Tuesday whistling and looking extremely proud of himself.
The next morning, Harry was woken up by the heavy pounding of his uncle's fist on his bedroom door. He scrambled to stand up and put on his clothes -the Transfigured ones from the previous day as the rest of his possessions were locked in the cupboard downstairs- as Vernon's roaring voice complained about him taking too long.
He opened the door to face the massive form of his uncle, whose protuberant vein on his forehead had started to stick out even more from the screaming.
"Get your lazy bones downstairs, boy, and get in the car. If your freak school doesn't want you anymore, then I'll find you another one more suitable for your kind!"
Harry hesitated one second too long because Vernon grabbed him and propelled him toward the stairs. What did he mean another school? Surely Petunia had explained to him that he was only suspended, not expelled and that he would be able to go back to Hogwarts in a month?
He tried to voice his protests on his way down the stairs but only got his head cuffed for his troubles. Before he had time to really process what was happening, he was seated in the back of Vernon's car and his uncle was starting the engine.
Harry did not dare to say a single thing as they drove on Surrey's roads to an unknown destination. The trip took a good hour and ended in front of an iron-wrought gate, not unlike Hogwarts'. St Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys, claimed the austere sign on the stone pillar next to the gate. On his car seat, Harry was frozen in fear. His uncle would not dare, would he?
Apparently, he dared, as Vernon had gotten out of the car and was speaking with someone on the intercom below the ominous sign. The conversation was dragging out, Vernon becoming more and more upset and his gestures animated as whoever was behind the entryphone refused to let them in. In the end, the person relented and the rotund man stormed back to the car. He drove brusquely on his way to the main building, a squat manor sat in the middle of more recent barracks and prefabs.
They left the car in the miserable parking lot in front of a barbed fence that closely enclosed the buildings and moved toward the entrance shack. A burly man listlessly buzzed them in and informed them that they had to leave any cigarettes, alcohol and weapons they might be carrying with him before they could proceed. Vernon pushed a very reluctant Harry in front of him to the main building where a tall, spindly man in a brown suit came to meet them.
"Mister..."
"Dursley, Vernon Dursley. I apologise for dropping in unannounced, but I would like to enrol my nephew in your school as quickly as possible."
"Mister Dursley, I understand your request but I'm afraid we won't be able to fulfil your wishes. This is a penitentiary establishment. We only receive students who have been referred to us by the judiciary system, as part of their sentencing. We cannot accept students on the basis of the guardians' will."
"But he is a delinquent! He was suspended from his previous school because he stole a car!"
"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm going to have to turn you down. You might want to try the Monmouth Academy. It sits in Wales but they have wonderful results with tougher kids."
Grumbling, Vernon thanked the director of St Brutus and grabbed Harry by the scruff to march him back to the car, as if it was his fault that St Brutus only accepted pupils on a judge's recommendation. Once in the vehicle, he started a long rant on the decline of public service and on the unfairness of having to deal with his good-for-nothing charge because the freaks had not seen it necessary to prosecute him for him to get punished through the proper means. Harry did not get his hopes up for even a moment, though, because his uncle made it clear that he would call this Monmouth Academy as soon as they got home. He also, of course, blamed him for the leave day he had been forced to take to bring Harry to St Brutus, for nothing. As a result, the drive home was highly unpleasant and Harry feared several times that they would leave the road or crash into another car as Vernon often turned around to better berate him. They made it back in one piece, however, and Harry was locked in his room for the rest of the day, his stomach grumbling at having already skipped two meals.
The evening brought news and half a plateful of food as Petunia let him out to clean up after their dinner and eat something.
"Boy! You are leaving tomorrow for Monmouth Academy! Be thankful that they accepted your late registration and that it doesn't cost a thing, or I would have dumped you in the streets for good!"
Harry said nothing, knowing there was no changing the mind of his gleeful uncle. He silently tidied the remains of their meal and gulped down his food standing in the kitchen, away from his relatives' eyes, already planning how he was going to write to Hermione's parents -good thing he had memorised their address during the summer- to beg them to contact Hogwarts. Surely Dumbledore would intervene, even if he was still suspended, if his relatives sent him away. After all, it was he who had claimed that Harry could not go to the Burrow because he needed to stay with his guardians.