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"We caught a glimpse of Potter in the garden," Alastor continued, "bit thin, isn't he? And I thought his folks left him money. You wouldn't know it by the way he dresses."
"Well, children can be fussy eaters, Alastor," Figg said, avoiding their eyes, "and who knows what the youngsters consider fashionable these days."
"Do you really believe that?" Amelia blurted out unable to stop herself.
Figg sighed and her mouth drooped. "The Dursleys are perfectly horrid muggles, I'm afraid. They've never treated Harry the same as their own son – although some might think that was a blessing. Albus warned me when I complained to him the first time I baby-sat Harry for them that they might not be as caring towards him as we would wish, but he was certain that they would do right by their nephew in the end."
"You baby-sit the boy?" Alastor shot Amelia a look that told her to keep quiet.
"Not very often these days – he's getting old enough to look after himself or so the Dursleys would have it. Obviously I follow Albus's instructions not to reveal I'm a squib or about You-Know-Who or about the wizarding world but…it's difficult and, well, I've thought it best that he didn't enjoy being with me too much otherwise the Dursleys probably would send him somewhere else."
Amelia badly wanted to hex the woman. She had lacked the compassion to make Harry's life better when he stayed with her, and followed Albus Dumbledore's word as though it was law. And why hadn't Figg reported any of the mistreatment she had to have seen?
"At least someone was making regular reports about the boy's welfare to the proper authorities." Alastor said briskly, obviously thinking along similar lines to herself.
"Oh Albus made the official reports. He and I didn't have anything formal, Alastor. I just contacted Albus every so often usually just after I'd baby-sat Harry." Figg's eyes crinkled as she smiled. "I always used to smile when I'd see the occasional photo I managed to take and send to Albus end up in the Prophet."
So that's how pictures of the boy had been released to the public; Amelia had always wondered. Amelia darted a look at Alastor – she wasn't certain she could stay another moment without yelling at Figg.
Alastor got the message. "Well, it's been nice chatting to you, Arabella, but we must be off. You can tell Albus the wards look fine."
Amelia smiled tightly as she offered her own terse goodbye and immediately apparated to the Ministry. Alastor was a moment behind her. They waited until they got to her office and under heavy privacy wards before she erupted.
"Did I just hear that right?" demanded Amelia. "Did that…that woman…" she was almost incoherent with anger.
Alastor pointed at her desk. "Get the Ogden's out."
She did and by the time she'd knocked back one drink she'd regained some measure of control.
"You have to understand Arabella's not been wholly with it since her husband and her son were killed standing right next to her in a Death Eater attack on Diagon Alley." Alastor said, nursing his own drink that he'd poured from his flask. "Her husband was a friend of Albus's so Albus looked after Arabella after his death, made sure she got her inheritance despite her being a squib, and set her up properly in her new kneazle breeding business."
"Hence her loyalty to him." Amelia sighed heavily, her ire slightly tempered with Alastor's explanation.
"Unfortunately Albus could tell her that grass was pink with purple dots and she would believe him." Alastor agreed. "So, having heard from Albus when she first got there that the Dursleys wouldn't treat the boy well, it probably never occurred to her to tell him again because she thought he knew." He sighed. "As for her convoluted thinking that giving the kid some affection when she watched him would mean the Dursleys wouldn't bring him back…" he grimaced, "well, your guess is as good as mine."
"She could be right." Amelia conceded. "The Dursleys would probably be that petty." She poured herself another drink. "The results from the scans are horrifying. He lived in that cupboard under the stairs for years and there was a long list of verbal abuse and minor physical injuries. They periodically starved him, Alastor, sending a kid to bed with no food as a punishment but taken to an extreme."
He nodded. "He has the smallest of the bedrooms upstairs. There are locks on the door outside; evidence that there were bars at the window at one point. I would guess he's been locked in before. His furniture is broken, dilapidated. He barely has enough clothes to justify a wardrobe – all of them seem second-hand. His school clothes are good quality but they're in his trunk. He keeps his valuables under a loose floorboard under the bed. He has food stored there."
"In case they lock him in there again?" Amelia rubbed the back of her neck. "Any other child, Alastor, and I would have removed him from that house already."
"Even I know you're going to need to be politically savvy about this." Alastor comforted her. "Look, Albus and I have been friends for a long time and he is…a great wizard but he's not infallible even if he sometimes thinks he is." He sipped his drink. "He messed up. He obviously knew the muggles might have an issue accepting the lad as their own, he dismissed the first report of mistreatment from his agent who then failed to report further incidents, and he failed to check on the lad himself. Then, as the boy's Headmaster, he's failed to see the signs of abuse since Potter started at Hogwarts. The boy's far too thin for his age; somebody should have noticed."
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