Hello Readers! I can't believe that this story got 100 followers after just 2 chapters. I got alot of positive feedback about the idea of muggles helping Harry. Thank you to all of my readers and I hope you enjoy this new chapter.
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*I do not own Harry Potter, or any of its Characters*
Chapter 3: Piecing Things Together
Three Weeks Later, Saturday:
Juliet Mayfield knew for certain that Harry was living an abused life. As the past three weeks went by, she collected as much evidence about his home life as she could from her position..
He would come to school everyday in terrible oversized clothing, be afraid of meeting other students, stay on his own, and would let his cousin do whatever he wanted to him. He never spoke about them, but one occasion that his threadbare shirt lifted, she would see scars or faded bruises running along his frail frame.
And it only got worse. It seemed that he not only had a terrible home life, but that he was expected to fail. He did so well in his first few days, scoring perfects on whatever papers he was given, showing that he was very intelligent. Then one day, his grades took a nosedive. He scored atrociously on every assignment, making him just below the previous lowest in the class, Dudley Dursley.
She knew the boy was smarter than that, judging by how often he read. As well as what he was read. Last week, she caught him reading a third year school book, confirming that he was not as dumb as he was trying to show. When she looked at any of his papers, there would be scribbles of the right answers crossed out or erased, then a wrong answer right next to it. It was obvious that it was intentional.
She easily put two and two together to see that he was forced to score lower than his cousin.
Speaking of said cousin, Dudley was getting worse. It seemed that his parents let him do anything he wanted without consequence at home, as it translated over to school. He would rip books, steal and break toys, snatch other children's meals during lunch, and screamed when he didn't do well on a test or get what he wanted.
And the overweight boy still had the idea to blame it all on 'the freak.'
Plus, the things Dudley Dursley said only confirmed her suspicions about Harry, especially what he said last week.
-flashback last week-
Dudley Dursley handed in his homework with a smug look on his chubby face. He usually didn't do very well on it and left most of the answers blank. So maybe he finally decided that doing the work was important.
Ms Mayfield looked at it and saw that it was all filled out correctly, but that was not the biggest concern to her. It not the usual chicken scratch that she was used to seeing. Granted, they have only had two other assignments so far in the past few weeks, but it didn't make sense to her.
"Here you go Miss Mayfield." Harry said as he timidly walked up and turned in his own assignment. He then scurried away to his desk.
She looked at the two papers side by side and saw the writing style was exactly the same. The answers were identical not only in correctness, but in the way they were written,
It was all in Harry's handwriting!
She grit her teeth at the obvious cheating and looked at Dudley Dursley, who still had a smug look on his face, with his jelly-like cheeks trying to be raised by muscles and failing. Usually she couldn't be angry at children, but this one was definitely getting on her last nerves.
She collected all the papers and let the children draw as she graded their papers.
After about ten minutes, she finished grading the papers and passed them all back to who they belonged. Many students started showing each other their grades and cheering at the high scores they received. Except Dudley, who, though Mayfield had yet to meet, looked like his father when he was angry, going purple faced in an instant. Dudley ran over to grab Harry's paper out of the smaller boy's hand and compared the two. Then looked up at Mayfield like she was evil.
"Teacher! Why did I get a F while the freak got a A! We had the same stuff!"
Mayfield stood up and walked over to the two boys and picked up both papers. She then showed the boys that the papers were identical.
"Mr Dursley, please explain why Harry's handwriting is on your homework?"
Not noticing that everyone was looking at him or understanding that he was in trouble, Dudley smiled. "I didn't want to do no stinkin homework, so asked my mum, and she said I could have the freak do it!" He said triumphantly. Mayfield didn't feel the same way though.
"Well, in my class, you must do your own homework if you want to get good grades. Having Harry do your homework won't teach you anything, so I will not give you any points for this assignment, but you are free to do it at home and try to bring your grade up." She stated. She then slowly walked back to her desk, thinking about the comment with Mrs Dursley letting Dudley use Harry for his homework.
Many students started to whisper amongst themselves about how Harry was forced to do Dudley's homework. They were also questioning why Dudley always called Harry a freak. Harry didn't seem so bad in some of there opinions, just quiet and weird-looking because of his giant clothes.
Dudley didn't like that he not only got a bad grade, but that his freak of a cousin did better than him. He grabbed Harry by the arms, looking down at his much smaller, terrified cousin.
"When we get back home, I'm telling dad everything. I can't wait to see dad punishing you for getting me a bad grade." He said with an evil look on his face, causing Harry to freeze up and fear for what was to come.
Sadly, he didn't account for Ms Mayfield hearing that last part and looking back at the confrontation with wide eyes.
The day after, Harry came into class with a bruise under his eye. She tried to find out what happened but he would only tell her that he fell or that he hurt himself, but she knew that wasn't true. But she couldn't force him to tell her because if school policy. So like every day, she told him that he could tell her anything, and that if he needed anything, to just simply ask.
After that, Mayfield scheduled to meet with someone. Someone that could help the poor innocent child that was being forced to live in an abusive home. Someone who could help her fight for Harry.
Which is why she was walking down to a law firm outside of town. She scheduled an appointment to talk to an attorney about her case involving Harry, and she knew that this firm had the best reputation in Surrey regarding cases, abuse cases included.
While she did have to drive about thirty minutes out of Little Whinging to get there, it was worth it if it meant she could help one of her students.
She walked up to the front to see a cream colored building with dark brown wood and grey accents. The building scream business, and the front had in strong bolded letters 'WILSON LAW FIRM AND ATTORNEYS'.
She walked in the front door to see a plain waiting room with dark wood and neutral colors framing the room, with a desk in the middle of room, and two doors on opposite sides of the furthest wall. Mayfield went over to the front desk to see a young blonde woman sitting there. "Hello, and Welcome to Wilson Law Firm and Attorneys. Do you have an appointment with anyone?" The blonde woman asked politely.
Miss Mayfield smiled. "Yes, I have an appointment with Wilson. I scheduled earlier this week over the telephone."
The woman looked through a few papers before nodding and looking up at Mayfield. "Yes, you must be Juliet Mayfield for 1:30, right?"
"Yes, that's me." Mayfield responded.
"Well, she arrived from her lunch early, so she told me to bring you to her as soon as you came. Are you alright with that?" The young woman asked politely.
"Yes." Mayfield said with a smile. "That is fine with me."
"Then please follow me." The woman then stood up from her front desk and opened the left door beside her and gestured for Mayfield to follow. They then walked down a short hallway to a door with words in gold letters stating 'Elizabeth Wilson, Law Attorney, Head of Firm.'
The woman knocked. There was a brief pause before someone asked, "who is it?"
"It's me ma'am." She called through the door. "I have your 1:30 here with me."
"Thank you Mary." A strong, butch female voice said. "Please send her in."
The woman, now identified as Mary, opened the door and gestured for Mayfield to enter.
She entered the room and found herself in a very professional office, with no pictures, but framed degrees on the walls, and achievements, obviously done by Ms. Wilson, hanging with purpose.
A middle aged woman with dark black hair that was greying in some areas, sat behind a dark wood desk, looking at Mayfield with calculating eyes. She wore a grey jacket over a black shirt, with black dress pants. He had developing wrinkers around the eyes and an aura of intelligence and strength.
She looked like she had been in the business for a long time, and didn't take crap from anyone. A woman that didn't give up. It was just what Mayfield needed.
"You are free to head back to the front desk Mary." Wilson said. Mary nodded, and exited the room, leaving Mayfield with the intimidating woman. Mayfield collected herself and cleared her throat and put her hand out.
"It is nice to meet you Ms. Wilson. My name is Juliet Mayfield, and I am here to discuss a case I have for you." Ms Wilson nodded and shook the teachers hand firmly.
"It is nice to meet you Ms Mayfield. Please sit." She said with authority, releasing the teacher's hand.
Mayfield sat down in the chair opposite to Ms. Wilson, who also sat, and then unruffled the edge of her dress. The woman looked at Mayfield with her calculating eyes once more.
"Now, you said that you have a case for me? I do not have much time for many cases, so it would need to be very important if you want me to get behind it." Ms Wilson said stoically.
Mayfield cleared her mind and thought about Harry once more. The poor boy who was living with such a terrible family that were willing to hurt him out of spite.
"I have an abuse case regarding of one of my students." She said with conviction.
(One week later, Wednesday)
Ms. Mayfield walked out of class carrying a stack of child drawings and pictures. She was on her way to the printing room so she could laminate the best ones to send back to her students' parents.
As she walked, she thought about her quiet student who lives such a harsh life. The tiny Harry Potter. She wished she could do more for the boy, but as of now, she could not do anything until Ms. Wilson got back to her.
After explaining the situation, the stern woman told her that she would take the case, but she would need to look through other files on the child before going after the boy's relatives.
It had been a week and a half and she has not called back yet. Mayfield hoped that the attorney called soon. The longer that Harry was in that home, the more danger he was in.
Somewhat related to the problem, after school, she had to speak with Mrs Dursley. Apparently the woman found out that her son was doing poorly in school and that he was being punished often. She demanded to speak with her about why her 'Dudders' was doing so bad. So she had to schedule a meeting with Mrs Dursley today.
She supposed it would be an opportunity to meet the person who houses Harry. Mrs. Dursley was coming in after school, so she had to be prepared to ask the right questions without giving away what she was investigating.
The final bell rang, signifying the end of the day. Mayfield wished all her students a good day and gestured for her students to head home. The children collected themselves from the drawing activity they were doing and walked out of the door in bunches.
Mayfield quickly cleaned up the toys on the floor and placed any left over paper and crayons in a pile. After about ten minutes saw that the room looked presentable and walked out her door. She turned her head to see the Dursley family standing only twenty feet away. Mr and Mrs Dursley stood there with their son between them and Harry off to the side about a few feet away.
Petunia Dursley was a pale faced woman with a long neck and pale eyes. She had pale blond hair and look like she had swallowed a lemon judging by her face. Mrs Dursley wore a designer dress with odd yellow and green accents. It did not look good on her pencil like figure.
Vernon Dursley looked like a whale of a man. The buttons on his suit looked like they would break from stress and he had a very tight face that hid his small eyes. With his size, it was easy to harm others. And judging by the size of his hand, Mayfield could tell where Harry's bruises might have came from.
Mayfield composed herself and cleared her throat. "Good afternoon Mr. and Mrs. Dursley. I assume that you are here to speak about Dudley's grades?" She asked politely.
She could tell that they were not in the mood for shaking hands, so she didn't give them the courtesy. She already didn't like them with how they treated Harry.
"Yes." Vernon growled out. "We were told our son was doing poor in your class and we wanted to straighten things out."
"Very well. We can talk in my classroom if you wish."
"That would do just fine." Petunia added.
Mayfield turned around to have the family follow her in, but out of the corner of her eye mid-turn, she saw Vernon grab Harry, quite forcefully you might add, by the arms and whisper to him, before shoving the tiny boy away, who stumbled off, away from the Dursleys. It took all her strength not to do something about it.
Mayfield walked into her room rigidly and pulled up three normal sized chairs for the family to sit in, as most in the room were made for children. She proceeded to sit at her desk and compose herself for the impending conversation.
The Dursleys walked in together several seconds later, with Dudley running forward and jumping into his seat in the middle. Mr and Mrs Dursley followed, with Mrs Dursley getting into her seat slowly with faint perfection, and Mr Dursley flopping into his, causing it to creak under his immense weight.
"Now what happened to our son's grades?" Mr Dursley asked with a gruff voice. Right into business it seemed.
Mayfield could smell the grease on his breath, as if it was the only thing he ate.
"Well." She started politely. "Dudley's grades have not been doing so well because he has not been scoring well on his papers, often just ignoring it. I would give him credit for trying it, but he usually leaves the paper blank or uses it to scribble."
"But it's only his first year of school." Mrs Dursley complained. "Just because he doesn't wish to do a paper doesn't mean he should have a poor grade already."
"The grades are not just determined by his papers, but by his attitude. He-"
"Our son has done nothing wrong." Mr Dursley interrupted. "If anything, it was his cousin causing trouble. The boy tends to blame Dudley when something happens."
"Yeah, fre- Harry is always blaming me for stuff." Dudley complained with a whine.
Mayfield caught the slip from Dudley, but didn't say anything about it.
"Mr and Mrs Dursley, I have caught your son harming other children several times. Just last week, he stole a toy from a pair of twins and tore it in half when they tried to get it back." She explained.
"Our son just wanted a toy. Those boys must have taken it from him first." Mrs Dursley said, trying to get her son out of trouble.
"It was a toy they brought from home. Do you expect Dudley to share a toy when he brings it from home?"
"Well, our son knows better than to bring toys to school. Those other children should have known the consequences of bringing a toy to school." Mr Dursley growled out from his double chin.
Mayfield sighed mentally. This was going to be a long debate.
Harry was scared when he saw Uncle Vernon walk up with Aunt Petunia to Miss Mayfield's class. He overheard them yelling yesterday about how poor Dudley's grades had been. They were trying to blame it on him.
His ribs still hurt from the punch Vernon gave him at the end of the night. Followed by many others.
Harry realized he zoned out and almost didn't hear his Aunt whisper for him to follow them.
So he followed his Aunt, Uncle, and Dudley to his teachers class, then they stopped about fifteen feet away from the door.
Vernon turned his head to look at him with a glower and Harry knew tonight would not be a good night. He just hoped that his uncle didn't break a rib. They were already weak and sore as it was.
His uncle turned his head back to the door and Harry saw his nice teacher walk out and clear her throat.
"Good afternoon Mr. and Mrs. Dursley. I assume that you are here to speak about Dudley's grades?" Miss Mayfield asked.
Harry backed away a step, not wanting to be in the crossfire between his aunt and uncle.
"Yes." Uncle Vernon growled out. "We were told our son was doing poor in your class and we wanted to straighten things out."
"Very well. We can talk in my classroom if you wish." Miss Mayfield stated.
"That would do just fine." Aunt Petunia said.
Before Harry could take a step in any direction, he was forcefully grabbed by the arms. He found himself face to face with his uncle, who was red faced and irritated.
"Go wait at the car, boy. I know you had something to do with this and you will be punished." Vernon then pushed Harry away, giving the tiny child a chance to stumble and run off to the car.
After getting to the company car, he saw that all the door were locked and knew he would have to wait outside. Harry got on the cars side facing away from the sun and plopped down in the car's shade.
Harry sighed and felt himself start to doze off. He had not had a good nights rest since school started and nap time was often not enough to make up for the lack of sleep.
His family still expected him to do all his chores in the small amount of time he had at home. He would barely finish every night, leaving him sweaty, hungry, and exhausted, only to be injured in some way after his Uncle Vernon got home in a bad mood.
Harry yawned and let his eyes grow heavier and droop.
But it was worth it. He got to learn and go to school. While he may be in Dudley's class, he had an amazing teacher. One that helped him with his work and let him read, and would encourage him rather than put him down. She even made sure Dudley didn't steal his food at lunch, so he at least got one full meal a day.
Miss Mayfield was great. He started to feel like he could tell her anything. She was the nicest person he had ever met.
If only Harry could tell her about his family.
She probably wouldn't listen though.
Not one ever does.
'After all, I'm just a freak.' He thought sadly before submitting to sleep the next second.
Mayfield sighed and entered her classroom once more.
After her talk very irritating with the Dursleys yesterday, she walked with them to their car to find Harry sleeping right beside it.
She could tell Mr Dursley wasn't happy, so she woke the tiny child. Before having a chance to talk with him, they grabbed and put him in the car, then left the next minute, with Harry only half conscious but with a scared look on his innocent face.
She was starting to get impatient with not being able to help Harry. The attorney hadn't called back yet. That, and Harry's home life was seemingly getting worse.
Mayfield decided that she would help the boy right then and there, even just alittle. She went to the store yesterday and picked up clothes Harry's size. She made sure to get him shoes that matched the color and look of the taped-up ones he wears everyday, so they could perhaps disguise them to look like his old ones, while still being new.
It might not be much, but it was more than doing nothing in her opinion.
Harry heard the bell ring for lunch, so he put down his pencil and moved his drawing to his cubby.
After getting the belt last night, Harry couldn't find the strength to put any weight on his back. It hurt too much for the sensitive welts, so he would have to wrap them with something so they didn't get worse.
Usually his worse injuries would disappear though, like when his arm was broken in one of his uncle's beating, then fixed the next morning. Luckily neither his Aunt nor uncle noticed that it was broken in the first place. They would have freaked out even more if they discovered that he somehow healed himself overnight.
Aunt Petunia made him wear three shirts because she saw the welts and didn't want anyone seeing them. She told him herself. It hurt so much, and having three giant itchy shirts rubbing against them just made it worse.
"Harry, could you stay after for a moment, I need to speak with you." Miss Mayfield said, knocking Harry out of the thoughts about his back.
Harry wondered what she wanted. Maybe it was about Dudley's grades from yesterday or why he didn't lay down during nap time today. He wasn't sure. The door closed with the last student other that himself leaving. The only people in the room were now him and Miss Mayfield.
Harry walked up to his teachers desk, afraid of what could happen. It didn't seem bad though, based on Miss Mayfield's warm smile directed towards him.
"Y- Yes Miss Mayfield." Harry asked timidly, biting his tongue for the stutter. His uncle hated when he stuttered.
"I have a couple things for you. I hope that you use them here at school." Miss Mayfield then pulled a bag onto her desk and slide it over to the boy.
Harry opened the bag and his eyes widened with shock. He pulled out a leaf green colored shirt, then a red one, and a darker green one.
He dug deeper into the bag and found shorts, underwear, and even socks! He couldn't trust his voice not to crack if he spoke. He looked up to Miss Mayfield with big eyes, heavy tears threatening to fall.
"Before you say anything, those are yours. I got them for you, and you alone. You do not have to show them to your family, and you can keep them at school if you wish." Mayfield said with warmth in her voice.
"B-But I don't deserve this. I-I'm just a burden. A freak." Harry said as he looked down at his tapped up shoes.
Mayfield leaned forward and gave Harry a reassuring look. "Harry, look at me." It took a moment, but the hesitant child looked up to his teacher's face. "You are not a freak or a burden Harry." She said, hoping that her words would get through to him.
"B-but y-you bought them. I-I can't take these. They aren't mine." He pleaded, tears falling from his cheeks. She shouldn't have used her money on him. It was hers, not his.
"They are yours, Harry." She said with a smile. "You deserve to have something nice. Now please take them." She slide the bag even closer to him.
Harry was scared and overjoyed. His eyes wouldn't stop flooding with tears. It was the first thing that someone had ever given him anything without chores or work.
His first real gift.
He was afraid that she was tricking him like all the times his Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon did. Just to take it away the next minute. But he felt like he could actually trust her to not trick him.
He hesitantly reached forward and took the bag, watching his teacher, who still had kind smile on her face. He put the bag in his lap and wrapped his arms around it with joy and protectiveness.
"I have a few other things for you as well." Miss Mayfield said to him. She had more for him? Harry wondered: why she would go so far out of her way for him? He was a burden. He didn't deserve her kindness.
She pulled out a pair of new grey sneakers. They looked like his, but new. Harry knew that if he wore new shoes into his Aunt and Uncles house, then they would take them away or ruin them for no reason. Then they would ask where he got them or just say he stole them, which would lead to more bruises.
"I looked at your shoes the other day while you where sleeping during nap-time and got ones that look like them. I also have a roll of duct tape here." She then took a roll of duct tape out from the draw of her desk and rolled it, stopping next to the shoes.
Harry quickly put two and two together. 'If I put tape on the outside of the new shoes, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon won't notice that they aren't the ones I normally wear.' He thought happily. His thoughts were interrupted when his teacher spoke again.
"I know it's not much Harry, but I hope that you like them." Mayfield then stood up to open the door, but was cut off when she felt wait hit her, and two tiny arms wrapped around her legs.
She looked down to see the small crying child hugging her legs, and smiled. She loosened him from her legs for half a second, before kneeling down and hugging back. She noticed his flinched at the touch and how he winced when her arms made it to his back.
She quickly felt bumps on his back under Harry's poor clothing and could only assume that they weren't from something good. She moved her arms away from his back and hugged him by the shoulders, hoping to stop the pain she could be inflicting. They remained there for a few moments before Harry released his small but firm hold on his teacher. "Thank you for everything, Miss Mayfield." He said with a glowing smile. She was like an angel. Everything she did, she was doing out of kindness.
She smiled back then walked over to the door and opened it. "You are most welcome Harry. Now off to lunch, we don't want anyone wondering why I held you here so long."
Harry nodded, and walked out the door with a spring in his step that wasn't there before. Mayfield gave a sad smile as he walked out, knowing that he was still being hurt, and there was little she could do about it at the moment.
But sometimes a small gesture meant alot.
The day pasted quickly after lunch. After giving Harry the new clothes, he put them in his cubby so his cousin Dudley wouldn't find them. He spent his lunch taping the new shoes so that looked just like his old one. Even though they looked like garbage now, they were way more comfortable than his old ones, which let his toes freeze and offered no protection from thorns or bugs that bit his feet.
Harry heard the final bell ring and grabbed his ratty backpack. He walked to the door with Miss Mayfield standing by it, who wishing well all her students that left out the door. "Miss Mayfield." Said wavy haired brunette turned her head from her student Chelsey, who walked out the door, to see a little Harry Potter standing there with his new shoes on. Granted they were covered in tape, but she could tell he was happy with them.
Mayfield smiled down at him. "Yes Harry?"
"Well, I just wanted to say... thank you. F-for everything. You're the nicest person I've ever met." She smiled at the undersized child's genuine statement.
"You are most certainly welcome. And remember, if you ever need anything, just tell me." Miss Mayfield said with a reassuring smile.
Harry smiled at his teacher. He wished he could tell her about what his Aunt and Uncle did at home. But they said if they found out then he would be punished. The last time someone found out, he was beaten so bad he couldn't move for three days. He can still feel the pain from his uncles large fists hitting his ribs.
But if he never told anyone, it would never stop. All he wanted was to be normal and have a family. A family that cared about him, not one that forced him to cook, clean, garden, and slave away, all while being hurt for the smallest things. A family that would love him. Especially a loving mom. He wished he had a mom like Miss Mayfield.
All he had to do was tell someone and maybe they could help.
Harry gulped and prepared himself for his possible moment of truth. "Um, Miss Mayfield. I... I have something to tell you." He said hesitantly.
"What is it Harry." She said, with an undertone of something else he couldn't put his finger on. He braced himself for his next words.
He was going to do it.
"Hey freak! Hurry up! Mum's waiting in the van, and if you don't come in the next second then you're in trouble!" Dudley screamed from down the hallway, knocking Harry out of his moment of confidence and stopping the next words. Dudley then ran off to the car, if waddling was considered running.
Harry looked to where Dudley once was and back to Miss Mayfield. "Well,... I'll see you tomorrow Miss Mayfield."
She smiled sadly at him. "I'll see you tomorrow as well, Harry."
Harry ran off towards where Dudley was, leaving Juliet Mayfield to sigh. To her, it seemed like he was about to confess to what happens at his home. If he did, then she could help him even more then she could as of now. She hoped that he would tell her so she could make a strong case fight for him.
But she had to be patient. She usually was, but in situations like these, she couldn't sit still and wait as a child was being hurt.
If only Ms Wilson called. She wanted to help Harry, but she couldn't if she didn't have a legal case against his family. She walked into her classroom, thinking about the Dursley family.
She was knocked out of her thoughts when she heard a loud ringing accompanying a buzzing. She walked over to her bulky purse hanging on her chair and pulled out her bulky Nokia 1989.
"Hello, this is Mary Hendrick from Wilson Law Firm and Attorneys. Is Miss Juliet Mayfield at the phone?"
This was it! Maybe Wilson found something! She shook her head and got back to the important phone call. "Yes. This is her speaking."
"Good afternoon Miss Mayfield. Ms Wilson would like for you to come in and speak to her about your case. She asked if you would be able to come in today." Mary stated.
Mayfield quickly ran through her schedule in her mind and nodded to herself.
"I can be there in thirty minutes."
She just hoped that whatever Ms Wilson had would help Harry's case.