Categories > Books > Harry Potter > The Improbability Factor

Harry Potter and the improbability Factor

Disclaimer, to all who care: I own nada, zip, zilch, nat'ing, zero. There is a void of anything I own here. I have no claims. This is officially a Link-owned-stuff-less zone. Anything you see is not mine. If you had a candy for everything I own in here, you'd be sad.

Chapter 3: Friday Night Fights, Part 2

One of the greatest problems regarding the human psyche is that it constantly puts far more attention on the obvious as opposed to the obscure. Another problem is that humans have an annoying and rather awkward habit of speaking their minds before they really get a chance to think about it. Because of this, most human beings are in the habit of continuously stating the obvious, such as, 'It's cold out here,' or 'You're an idiot,' or 'I kicked his ass.' Most people have thought about these phenomena at one time or another in their lives, but usually fail to grasp the true level of its effectiveness.

For instance, it was clear to Vernon Dursley that his psychotic freak of a nephew had just walked into the living room. It was also clear that his son, Dudley, was following right behind him, though not under his own power. It was clear to him that his son had a large red knot on his head, that he had fainted, and that his nephew, Harry, was responsible.

It wasn't, however, clear to him that 30 seconds after Harry had shut the door behind him it had discreetly opened and closed again. Nor was it clear to him that if he looked closely enough at the carpet, he would have noticed depressions shaped suspiciously like a shoe, leading off towards a spot near Harry. Since these things weren't readily apparent to him, his mind dismissed them, preferring to focus on the more obvious facts presented to it.


...He turned around to make his way up the stairs, and saw his Uncle Vernon standing in the doorway to the kitchen, looking livid. Nothing new.

"What do you think you're doing, boy," He bellowed. "What did you do to my son?"

Harry had a large grin on his face as he answered, "Well, he was bullying a kid half his size, so I did what any self-respecting Gryffindor would do."

His grin widened even more, if it were possible. "I kicked his ass."


"You... what did...why..." Vernon Dursley was confused. He was confused that his son, Dudley, the boxing champion, would get beat by his scrawny nephew. He was confused that Harry would be so honest, and that he would be smiling rather than cowering in a corner somewhere. He was also confused that Harry had his wand out, pointed straight between his eyes.

"Well, to be honest, it was mostly a tree, a gazebo and a few really big rocks, I just helped out a bit." Harry was enjoying this. He had just knocked his cousin out, he was allowed to use magic out of school and he'd be leaving for Grimmauld Place before the weekend was out.

Meanwhile, Vernon Dursley was looking at his nephew like he'd gone mad. It wasn't like Harry to be so straight forward, and most definitely not like him to ever smile in his presence, especially when he'd done something like this. On the other hand, this was the perfect time to get back at him for all those years of torment and despair Harry had brought on him and his family. This time it would be perfect. He'd get that blasted Harry Potter back if it was the last thing he ever did. He'd... he would... Well, he'd do something pretty horrible that was for sure.

He looked over at Harry, who was staring back at him, as if waiting for him to make the first move. He thought that as much as he wanted to give Harry the 'old one-two,' he knew at least that he wouldn't be able to, what with his nephew holding that bloody wand. So, he thought, it's a battle of wits, is it? That, of course, would be no problem at all. Not for Vernon Dursley, the president of Grunnings. So he started to quickly formulate a plan.

What was it that he could do right this minute that would pay Harry back for all the hardships that he had brought upon his family? Then it hit him. He'd call the police. No no, wait for it. Yes, I'll call the police, put him under citizen's arrest, and then, make him confess every unlawful thing he'd ever done and then, when he ends up rotting in prison for the rest of his life, I'll have my revenge. Happy with the way things were turning out, Vernon went for the phone. Of course, considering that Harry could easily have stopped him, by, say for instance, turning the receiver into a poisonous snake when his uncle tried to pick it up was not a fact that was immediately obvious to Vernon Dursley's mind, he quite naturally ignored it.

Harry was watching this internal struggle with interest, and when his uncle went for the receiver, Harry just let it happen. He figured that if the police did come by, and arrest him, Harry would at least eat better than at the Dursley house. Not to mention that any homicidal maniacs he ran across while there would certainly be more entertaining than anything the Dursley's could offer.

Interestingly enough, however, the unseen visitor standing behind Harry had different plans. Considering the fact that they were pressed for time, she aimed her wand at Vernon, and, with an unheard incantation transfigured the receiver into a poisonous snake, which promptly wrapped itself around his arm, trying to crush it. Harry turned and saw the face, and the rest, of Nymphodora Tonks, as the last of the Disillusionment Charm fell away.

"Wotcher, Tonks!" Harry said lightly, as Vernon backed into a case holding some largely inexpensive china, which promptly fell on the floor. "Nice wand work, by the way. I hope you're well?"

"Harry," she said solemnly, not about to be out-cooled. "Aye, very well, though I must say, if you ever steal any of my lines again, you'll find this," she waived vaguely over at Harry's uncle, who was thrashing on the floor, among bits of glass and wood, still trying to get the snake off him, "to be a pleasure."

"Oh, believe me, I already do," Harry said appreciatively, watching his uncle as he got up and ran straight for the wall on the opposite side of the room. With a loud /whoop/, which, Harry assumed was from the snake, Vernon collided with the wall and fell over, knocked out even before he hit the ground. Harry walked over and cast a critical eye over him.

"To be honest I'm surprised he didn't scream a bit more," he said, noticing the small pieces of china sticking out at odd angles all over him.

Tonks gave a small sheepish smile. "Actually, he probably did," she admitted ruefully, "only I cast Silencio on him as well. So the neighbors wouldn't hear," she added unconvincingly.

"So, what brings you to my humble abode?" Harry asked, in a great impersonation of Dumbledore.

"Actually I'm here to take you to Grimmauld Place," she said. "In fact, we should have been there about five minutes ago, so you'd better get packing" she added, looking at her watch.

"Didn't leave me much time, did they?" Harry asked, as they made their way to his bedroom.

"Well actually it was my fault. I left about an hour ago, but I kind of got lost." Her sheepish smile was back on "Last time I was here, there was a lot of people with me, so I didn't bother to pay any attention to where I was going. That's how I ended up in the park where you were. Nice work with Dudley, by the way. That wasn't one of Hagrid's Rock cakes, was it?"

"Yea," Harry grinned. They continued on toward Harry's bedroom, making small talk as Tonks muttered at the cleanliness and organization of the Dursley household.

"So, how will we be getting there?" Harry asked, as he packed up his books. He looked suddenly suspicious. "We're not flying again, are we?"

"Oh, no. We're just gonna use a Portkey this time. Right, got all your stuff? Let's get going, then."

A/N: Sorry again for this taking so long. And for this being such a short chapter. Next one should be good though, I've got some new stuff being introduced, and I'll have a lot of fun writing it, so maybe 3 days or so.
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