Chapter Eighteen:
( a dursley desperation )

▂✫⌒*･ﾟ

             SPENCER UNINTENTIONALLY LIED TO her best friend and one who she used to be close to. She did not mean to. In fact, when the young girl told her friends that she 'would do anything it takes to defend herself', she truly meant it. During that time, Spencer was done with Morgana's bullshit. Don't get her wrong... she still is very much done with her, but Spencer does not defend herself with magic. The young Montague was going to, but then she thought about what that could mean for her. If she uses magic, that would get her expelled from Hogwarts and despite everything that happened in her fifth year, it is the safest and only place she can actually call home. There is also the fact that Harry will most likely need support from her and she cannot do that from the misery of her manor.

             She feels sick to her stomach. Her eyes are closed, leaning toward the door of her room in exhaustion. How can she describe her time in the manor? In misery, torment, agony, even the word hell is perfect to report her month state in. She is sure the color of her skin has turn even paler— her eyes droopy and bags heavier than a brick. The identities of who had been in the Department of Mysteries has been hidden from society, but it is quite obvious who were involved. Only a certain amount of kids disappeared from Hogwarts that night and Morgana definitely knows that Spencer has something to do with it. As the perfect daughter, she snitched to their parents who both look away from the times when Morgana would find ways to make her suffer.

             Not to say that Spencer did not fight back. She did. Sometimes, she still does. No magic is done between any of them and so they resolve into the muggle conflicts of punching or slapping or finding something in the manor to hit each other with. One would assume it is the casual siblings fight, but the two know better. Morgana went far in her ways to find more drugs, weapons, while all Spencer tries to do is dodge it. None of them actually killed one another (though they really do want to) because it is not in their plan to be sent to Azkaban.

             Spencer knows her sister only has not done it because it will ruin her plans of becoming one of the greatest dark witches to exist and get immediately sent to Azkaban after one kill. No. Her sister is the sadistic type. She enjoys torture and drives from it... only causing it to one person would not give her enough pleasure. Let us just say that what she does to Spencer is just practice.

             There this study that when a threat is being shown or felt, your brain can actually transmit it immediately. It has fast responses that are most likely defensive as well. If the threat moves closer, the periaqueductal gray initiates a flight or fight response which activates the sympathetic nervous system. The beating of one's heart increases, blood flow to muscles raises, and pupils dilate to form a clearer look. When you cannot escape and the threat is close to you, your body freezes in response and slowly this activates the parasympathetic nervous system. The one where muscles get tighten, the breathing of the victim freezes as well.

             Spencer is in the last level by now. The one where when the threat shows no sign of moving away, the victim begins to shut down. Her heart rate drops, breathing is less of the concern when she is around Morgana or her parents. The muscles that she holds becomes limp. Endorphins has been released. She forces herself to become in the area of 'no pain'. A place where she no longer socializes with reality and instead stays hidden inside the stationary of her mind.

             The young Montague does not remember when is the last time she talked without the coldness of tone. When her parents expect a reply or if Morgana continues on with her ways, all she would do is give a blank response.

             Yes. No. Make me. Leave. I understand. Mother. Father. Sister. Get out.

             By now she feels more robotic than human. Spencer has not cried. It will ruin her horrendously if she releases a tear from her system. She fears that if she lets it go then she will not stop. Not even with the nightmares haunting her and making her wake up at an unusual hour. Despite how incredibly weak she feels, there is no way that she will show it. It will hurt even more in the path, but watching Morgana succeed is not what she wishes to see.

             Even if she is so close to winning.

             "Oh, Spencer," she hears a voice coming from outside her door with a taunting tone. The person rattles her doorknob before realizing it is locked. "You can't hide forever, sister. And definitely not with my birthday coming tomorrow... we're getting a welcoming surprise just for it."

             Right... her birthday is tomorrow. In less than twenty-four hours, Spencer will finally practically be a corpse filled with scarring of dark magic. Morgana's limited use of magic in the real world will vanish and she will be free to do whatever she wants. The funny part in all of this? No one knows what actually has been going on. Mailing her friends has always been forbidden for her, even if it is unsaid. Ricky is a muggleborn wizard and there is no way they are letting her mail him which the boy himself knows already so there is no point in sending her a letter. Theodore is a lost cause... even if she does send a letter, she figures he would not reply. There is also no way that they would let her mail any of her Gryffindor friends. And at last, Blaise... they did not end in good terms and who is to say he would not burn the letter before getting a chance to read it? She was— is alone.

             "Leave," Spencer hears an unfamiliar voice say. It is raspy and defeated that it takes her a while to realize that it has come from her. She hears the footsteps fade away from her corridor. The young girl opens her eyes tiredly before standing up from her spot and sitting in her bed where beside her rests twenty books spaced out messily. She gently bends down to grab one of them before opening it up and forcing her mind to focus on the familiar words.

             No two person's behaviours are similar, and it is these differences in behaviour that relate to specific characteristics of the offender— or person.

             With her head wrap into the undeniable words of study, she feels herself get into a state of rest. Her eyes scan every word and page in the book before she gently closes them to take a short-needed nap.

.･:*:･ﾟ'✫,'✫'ﾟ･:*:･˙

             TIME SEEMS TO GO slow during her time there. Seriously, it feels like she has been in the manor for about a year already when in fact it is still summer, the thirtieth day of July, that is. Her nap did in fact last about an hour or so before she wakes up hungry. Thus, she quietly leaves her room and heads downstairs to where her family prepared themselves to eat. They whisper among each other excitedly before quietening down as they notice her.

             She narrows her eyes suspiciously before choosing to ignore them and serves herself some food. There is no point questioning them since it is clear that distrust lingers in the air. Her mother gushes about Morgana's birthday while all her sister does is smirk toward her way. When they were younger, Spencer would always exclaim how Morgana shared the same birthday as the Harry Potter (and then later on those days Morgana would push Spencer to the ground clearly disgusted by the fact). Having been in the manor without doing much, Spencer made her own bracelet with some of her old ones to design it for Harry— even if she won't see him until school starts (if she survives) but she knows he does not like his own family as well. She eats her bland food disturbingly and in her own bubble of thought.

             What were they talking about? Spencer wonders to herself. She takes small bites from her own meal which last even as Morgana and her mother stand from their seat and leave elsewhere. Some elves walk around the house cleaning every inch of it. Wait a minute... since when did they have elves?

             All the dishes are left for her to wash. One of their low punishment to do. For a pureblooded family with no respect to muggles, they do not have elves at their home. However, for some unusual reason, they actually have them in their manor now. Don't get her wrong, she likes elves and does not mind not having them if they like to work (like the ones at Hogwarts), but it surprises her coming from her own family. Not that they like elves either way.

             "Aren't you excited for tomorrow, dear sister?" Morgana leans in close to her ear and whispers. Spencer sighs and drops her fork beside her plate. And suddenly, she feels like she ate quite enough. Instead of replying, she scoots her food away from her and stares at her smug-looking sister.

             "Extremely," she drawls out with no emotion. Morgana scoffs at her statement before strutting away toward the means to her cave-like bedroom. Spencer sighs in desperation before deciding she is no longer hungry. An elf quietly makes her way toward the table and takes the plate away which makes Spencer give a small thanks in appreciation.

             The young girl looks up to see her father staring at her intensely. She never understood the loving relationships people had with their parents. Her mother barely acknowledges her unless it is to tell her that Morgana is espectacular and she is pathetic. But her father? He confuses her. Sometimes it looks like he cares and wants to ask her how she is doing, but then Spencer looks him in the eye and he glances away like nothing happened. At every abuse she is hit with, he chooses to look away and that — in her opinion— is even worse.

             "After tomorrow she will stop tormenting you," her father says quietly. "And you will be okay."

Spencer glances up in confusion. What? She eyes him curiously wondering what he is talking about. If anything, Morgana will be even more of the true dark witch she is than anything. How will she be okay with that?

             "We will have visitors tomorrow, which is why some elves are here for the meantime," he explains vaguely, standing up from his seat and placing himself beside her. Spencer still does not understand what he is hinting at. Her father seems to be filled with relief and she does not like the way his eyes darkens.

             Slowly, her own face begins to pale in realization. Her breathing increases by the moment and she begins shaking her head in panic. He stares at her in confusion and narrows his eyes at her.

             "You will be free of her if you are both on the same side, sweet—"

             "No!" Spencer denies coldly. Once more she surprises herself with the raspy voice of hers. She glares at him hotly and stands up from her own seat, pointing an accusing finger toward him. "You really don't know your own daughters, do you?"

             Her father blinks and leans back with an offended look.

             "You think she's gonna stop all of a sudden because I randomly chose a different side? You think I will actually join them?" At his unresponsive tone, she scoffs. Her father truly does not know any of them. "Are you really that delusional, father?"

             Those are the wrong words to say as his face hardens in retaliation. He stands up from his seat and coldly orders her, "You will be on your best behavior tomorrow and even if we have to put the Imperius Curse to you, you will receive that mark."

             Spencer widens her eyes and shakes her head repeatedly. "No, no, father you can't do this to me. Please!"

             "And that's final," Oliver finishes off strictly, walking away with a fumed head.

             She feels her throat tightened and for a few seconds, she finds it hard to breathe. Her hand covers her mouth in disbelief before she goes running up her room without a second thought. The moment she enters, she locks the door manually and quickly finds her bag she uses to take to Hogwarts. Spencer stops herself from continuing as she glances around her room.

             It does not feel like a home but more like a prison. Everyday she locks herself up there for the meantime to avoid her own family. To reread every single book she has available— especially Analyzing Behavior, Jane Eyre and A Tale of Two Cities (she would read Little Women too if she had it but alas... she does not). And it is a house where she sleeps in, where she eats and takes care of necessities, but it is not her home. It truly never was.

             Lord Voldemort will be heading to this manor tomorrow. That is why the elves are here and cleaning. Why her mother and sister are excited for tomorrow. And they expect her to receive the mark as well. Spencer does not want the mark. She would rather die than get it and in reality, this most likely will happen if she denies him right at his face. He most likely has seen her face despite him fighting Dumbledore moments prior. Spencer feels herself wanting to collapse and she knows nothing can be done except for two things.

             One, she stays home and faces the consequences tomorrow evening. Most likely dying— or worse, having her parents curse her to obey them like a child they have always expected her to be. Or two, she can leave. Grab as much stuff as she can and leave the house for good.

             There is not much thought in the idea and Spencer finds herself rummaging through her closet and grabbing a whole bunch of clothes to place in the bag that has a charm. Then, she moves to her necessity supplies she had (toothbrush, brush, etc) and places them all inside. Her eyes wander down to her books and she swallows deeply. It is no use taking all of them. She does not even have a place to go and they would just disturb her. A frown takes over her face as she forces herself only to take four of them that she enjoys (which includes Jane Eyre, A Tale of Two Cities, Analyzing Behavior, and Pride and Prejudice). Her heart clenches as she remembers about her all-time favorite one and how she does not even have it with her. Shaking her head once more, she continues grabbing more stuff and pushing it inside her charmed bag. Apart from her personal favorites, she also takes some of the Hogwarts books with her that she knows she needs and her uniforms.

             The last thing she knows to pack (her room now looks like a whole mess) is money. Hidden in the bottom of her drawer, she collects all of her galleons and sickles while also the muggle type that she picks up from when she visits the muggle world. With her bag resting beside her (there is actually two charms on it and one of them was to make it weigh light), Spencer glances around her room one last time.

             Despite it not feeling like home, she knows a part of her will miss this place. All the memories whether good or bad were made there— and it is such a misery that she does not have a family like the Weasleys. With a sob resting on her throat and her hand clutching into her wand, she purses her lips shut and then turns around to face her window.

             Placing her wand beside her waistline, she breaths in deep before opening her window. It is only luck that a tree manages to be closed to it as she begins climbing her escape. Spencer makes sure to hold on tight and move quietly as she wraps her arms around a branch. Noticing only a few lights being on inside, she begins moving faster as she realizes they will not be able to notice her. Nighttime is falling upon them and it will be too dark for them to notice her tall figure. When her feet land on the grass with a small thud, she lets out a sigh of relief.

             With her throat dry of nervousness, she forces herself to not look back and jogs silently out of her family's acres. Spencer could not describe the adrenaline in her body return once more. Truth be told, her body has not been responding well with being trapped inside for the summer. And now in the humid air of the streets she feels an overwhelming set of emotions hitting her deep in the chest. Instead of acknowledging it, she continues her path in running away from the Montague manor.

             It will take some time for them to realize she is not there. Since it is late at night, they will easily assume she is asleep. Her door remains lock as always and so until tomorrow morning when they need her, she will be gone. Hopefully far away from them.

             But now there is a question that is in need for an answer. Where will she go? After having jog for what seems like ten minutes, she finds herself in the bottom of the hills she is in and under a light where a bench rests. Spencer sits down tiredly and swallows to get rid of the need to cry. It does not help, but it does give her time to think.

             Her brain nags her repeatedly, as if it is ashamed that she easily forgot who lives near her. With her eyes widen in realization, Spencer stands up immediately. She knows who she can go to for help. Not for a place to stay because based on the stuff Harry Potter has told her, his family are not the kindest either. Although, noticing the stars shining brightly in the sky make her sit back down. She cannot go there during this time. Whether she likes it or not, Spencer will have to sleep hidden in the dark sky from the world. Her eyes closes in exhaustion before choosing to find a place near the lamppost.

             With the humid air hitting her face, she wraps herself neatly in disbelief and grabs a blanket and pillow she actually did manage to bring with her. Spencer falls asleep an hour later after struggling with her overlywheamed mind depriving her from such action.

.･:*:･ﾟ'✫,'✫'ﾟ･:*:･˙

             WHEN SPENCER WAKES UP early in the morning, she quickly pats herself off from the ground and hopes that no dirt managed to ruin her face completely. Her head aches in pain having wake up with Sirius Black falling to his death and Voldemort staring right at her soul. Her eyes wander aimlessly and notices a couple of people already going from one place to another. A sudden reminder of what she did crosses her mind and she forces herself to clear her throat to stop herself from focusing on the negative. There is no words to describe how much she wants to cry.

             As soon as she finds herself presentable enough, she begins walking toward her destination. Number 4 Privet Drive. Spencer forces her steps to be bigger as she also remembers that it is the day Voldemort will head to the manor and... and mark Morgana. With a sudden panic, she begins sprinting her way around the street. When she makes her way to a street called the Little Whingling, her eyes glances at every house until she begins noticing familiar numbers heading her way.

             Her feet stop dead in their tracks as she faces a huge average-looking house. Perhaps too average by the way that this one and the house next to it has the same model and color of a car. Ignoring the fact that it is too peculiar, she finds herself wanting to break down suddenly. Spencer slowly walks toward the door depressingly before knocking twice with nervousness.

             She hears loud footsteps heading to the door and the sound of the door unlocking. Her hand nervously tucks her baby hair behind her ear as she looks up to the figure that opens the door. It is a boy around her age; he stands taller than her, watery-blue eyes visible straight ahead as she stares at him. His hair a thick, blond color with large muscles by his side. Truth be told, he is not at all attractive, but he does seem to have a body of some sort of wrestler. For a moment, she thinks this had been the wrong address and perhaps her brain is starting to lose insanity that it made up some random words and bundled them up together.

             "Uh—" the boy begins saying, not even bothering to hide the fact that he is checking her out. His eyes travels from her head to her feet without hesitation. Spencer thinks that is gross, but she keeps a thin and fake smile on her face. "Hello?"

             Spencer tugs the bottom of her shirt, feeling slightly exposed by how his eyes trails unashamedly. "Sorry, wrong house..." she tells him quietly. Would Harry truly have a cousin like this? Just as she is about to leave, her mind answers her own question. Yes, it is likely.

             "Actually," she stops him from closing the door. The boy raises his eyebrow in question, a slightly growing smirk on his face. "Does Harry live here? Harry Potter?"

             Just as quick, his smirk falls off his face upon hearing her question. He narrows his eyes in wonder before slowly asking, "Why...?"

             "I need to talk to him, please. He's my friend—" Spencer begins explaining before she notices another figure walk to be behind the large boy. This time it is a thin woman with blonde hair, her long face staring curiously and suspiciously down at her. The woman places her hand on the boy's shoulder which makes her easily to assume that is his mother.

             Her large, pale blue eyes narrows in response to spotting Spencer with a baggage. "Who is this, Duddy-kins?"

             "I don't know, mum," the boy answers roughly. Spencer is right. That is in fact his mother. The young girl slightly flinches at how loud he speaks. "She says she's friends with Harry."

             If possible, the woman's eyes narrow even more and stares at her intensely. It appears as if she was searching for something out of the ordinary... bit peculiar. Spencer feels her chest tighten— Harry does live here! She can tell by the way that this 'Duddy' person knows who she is referring to and the way he told his mother.

             "What are you doing with that bag?" His mother questions suspiciously.

             Before she can answer, Spencer hears another pair of steps coming down the stairs. She feels herself wanting to collapse right there and then as she spots the familiar green eyes and messy jet black hair. There is no mistake that Harry does not live there since he is standing just a mere few feet away from her. His eyes widen in surprise and he pushes through— who she figures is his aunt and cousin— to get to her. Without a second to waste, Spencer throws himself at him and feels hot tears finally release from the strong hold she tries to keep in. Her face places itself on his shoulder and her arms wrap tightly around his neck.

             She can tell that her friend is confused, but all she wants is to let go. The throbbing pain in her head increases as she tries to stop herself from sobbing... except it is too late to hold it back in. Spencer feels herself weaken in this state of mind and finally lets herself release of the overwhelming emotions. She knows that her appearance appears weak and truthfully, that is how she feels too. Harry has wrap his own muscled arms around her figure and carefully soothes her with small whispers.

             Her eyes feels like they are being poured acid by the way the tears causes her pain. She never realized why, but as a person she likes giving out hugs to those she calls friends or are in need of one. But as Harry holds her close to his chest, she remembers why. Hugs are meant to be protective, caring, and healthier. Back at her manor, there is nothing involving tender touchings or a sense of relaxation with one another. It is why Spencer at any chance given will be wanting to give out hugs just so she can comfort them and feel it too.

             "Hey," Harry calls out quietly, separating slightly from her arms. His lips twists upside down at the tears in her eyes, how tired she seems that it looks like she battled her demons. "What's wrong?"

             Spencer shakes her head in distraught. "I- I couldn't stay there a-anymore!" She cries out, bringing her arms back to her body and then across her face as she wanted to stop herself from crying. "Harry— you don't realize what they— what she—"

             Harry narrows his eyes as anger begins to fill him up. He sends a look to his relatives before taking the girl inside their house to not gain any unwanted attention. The elder woman does not look so please on what he does, but she lets it passed knowing most likely that he will threaten to call a member of the Order. He lets her sit down in the couch and sits right beside her.

             "She...? Are you talking about Morgana? Did she hurt you?" The chosen one connects the two words to one another.

             "No— well, yes, but I—" Spencer starts, still sniffing and having tears stream down her face. The thought that crosses her mind repulses her. She has to calm down in order to explain it to him. With her eyes closed, she takes in deep breaths until she felt herself slowly getting better than before. Silent tears still went down, but at least she is not fully sobbing. Her voice still has not improved by how voiceless she had been for the past month. A shaky breath escapes her right before she speaks up. "They wanted me to... they wanted me to take the Mark. Harry, Morgana's birthday is today and for her gift they—"

             A slow moment of realization passes his face. "They were going to have all of you join," Harry gasps loudly. His relatives stare at them in confusion not knowing what is happening.

             Spencer nods shortly. "They invited him to the manor," she admits quietly.

             Harry's eyes darken at what that means. "He'll only—"

            "Yeah," she agrees. Despite the mixed emotion she feels at the second, she stares at him in concern. "You cannot leave this house at all today, Harry."

             The Gryffindor boy gulps and gives her a smile of assurance. His eyes travel down to her bag and he points out, "You ran away."

             Spencer rubs her two hands together and glances around the house. It is far too average-looking, she can immediately tell by the way everything seems to have an arranged order. The woman even has an apron on which shows her that she is the one to keep the house clean. The boy does not seem like he does much to help. Her eyes return back to her friend's. "I couldn't stay there anymore. They had me trapped. I just don't know where to go," she responds tiredly.

             They both know that she cannot stay there. For one, the Dursley's would never have it. For the other, it is not safe if she stays either way. Spencer would never want to jeopardize his safety for her own needs. Though, she hopes he knows where she could go. If not, perhaps the Knight bus would help.

             "Well... maybe you can go to the Weasleys?" Harry brings up with a look of concern.

             "I don't know how to get there without magic. And would they even let me?" Spencer brings her wrist close to her face and rubs her eyes gently. She likes his idea, but does did not even know if they will help her. The Weasleys are about a whole ton of children in one, she will only be a waste there. Though, of course, she is to pay them if they do let her stay.

             His eyes wander to the chimney in wonder. Then, he glances back at his friend. "What if you go through the Floo Network? You're not someone to be suspicious about... I think Percy may be the one monitoring the network, but he chooses to ignore his family rather than listen," he brings up in a whisper.

             She glances at his fireplace. "Is that a network?"

             Harry shakes his head. "No... but I know someone who has it. Her name is Arabella Figg, she's a squib and a member of the Order," he explains. Noticing her surprised look, he continues, "Yeah, shocked me too, but she's been the one keeping an eye on me for years. She's trustworthy."

             Spencer hesitates to agree, but then she notices his determined face and slowly, she nods. "Okay," she agrees.

             Her friend lets out a sigh of relief and then stands up. "Alright, I'm going to write a letter and hand it to you, okay? It's gonna have some stuff to prove that it is actually me that wrote it and all that— and also a slight beg why you should stay. I'll come back in a second, yeah?"

             Although, she is about to deny not wanting to stay with his aunt and cousin, she instead nods quietly. He gives her a kind smile and then goes up the stairs. Spencer swallows unsurely before glancing up at his relatives. They are staring at her with suspicion, but she has a feeling that she should be thankful that Harry's uncle is not here. She cannot help but analyze the women's face. It is easy to assume that she is the one Harry is blood-related to. Once he showed her a picture of his mother. She had red hair and green eyes— beautiful, really. The woman does not have the same hair color nor eyes, but the form of her nose does seem similar to one another.

             "Are you a wizard?" The question coming from the boy brings her attention toward him. He is standing right behind his mother with an almost scared expression.

             She glances down to the wand she hides beside her. "Yes, though, woman are more referred to as witches. Being called a wizard isn't wrong, however," Spencer rambles a bit before choosing to shut her mouth.

             "You're a pretty witch," the boy comments awkwardly and unsurely.

             Spencer is not sure if that is actually a compliment or not. "Yeah, there are many pretty wizards," she decides to answer with.

             "And— uh... you're Harry's friend?" He questions once more in confusion.

             She stares at him oddly. "Of course. He's a great person," Spencer answers him.

             Her attention returns back to the woman. "You're the one related to Harry's mother, right?"

             The woman scoffs and tugs her own arms close to her body. Well, that is a yes. "You have the same nose as her," Spencer tells her shortly. She notices a flash of sadness and confusion pass through the woman's expression.

             "What do you mean about 'the Mark'?" Harry's cousin continues to ask more questions.

             Spencer furrows her brows and answers, "You know about Voldemort, correct?"

             Based on how the two stiffen up upon hearing his name, she nods in acknowledgement. "He has an army of followers. The ones most loyalest to him have this tattoo called the Dark Mark. There are meant to be the cruelest, the ones who swear loyalty to him," she informs shortly.

             "And... your sister is going to get it?"

             She nods numbly. "Yeah... yeah, she is. My sister has been growing up with cruel intentions and my family was going to force me to join... so I left."

             Before they can continue with their questionnaire, Harry then jogs down the stairs and sits beside Spencer. His eyes stares at her in concern and he cannot help but press a gentle kiss on her forehead. He has seen her do it quite a few times, even on him, and during those times he found it quite comforting so he hopes to do the same. When he spots a thin smile on her face, he returns it as well.

             "Mrs. Figg lives across from here, let me take you," Harry offers, handing her the letter he wrote. Spencer stops him with a tug of his arm and she gives him a thankful gaze.

             "Thank you, Harry, but I think it is safer if you stay here," Spencer mumbles for them to hear. He frowns at how right she is and then nods in agreement.

             He does not stop looking at her in concern which slightly warms her heart. She can tell that she does not look good as any other time, but he is still staring at her with caring eyes. "Um— okay... she lives right in the house next to the one in front. To head to the Weasleys, just say 'The Burrow' and it'll take you to the outskirts of Ottery St Catchpole," he explains lightly.

             "Send me a letter when you get there," Harry tells her worriedly.

             Spencer furrows her brows and gives him a sad look. "I don't think that's ideal. Letters can be watched and I don't want you to gain unwanted attention."

             The Gryffindor boy sighs in defeat. He rubs his face with his hands before asking, "Then how will I know you got there safe?"

             She grasps his hand and squeezes it. "You somehow always end up with the Weasleys, right? Just wait until then. If not, just know that I know how to defend myself," Spencer tells him softly. A sudden thought passes through her head. Wait a minute... She glances at his face curiously. It's his birthday too. How is it that her sister and him share the same birthday? Two people completely different. The girl grabs her bag and reaches out for something. Spencer remembers grabbing the wrapped gift she made him before she had left; wanting to give Harry a present some way. "Harry," she calls out gently.

             The boy stares at her in confusion. Spencer leans in and gives him a kiss in his cheek. "Happy Birthday," she mumbles quietly, handing him a small wrapped present that has a bracelet inside. Spencer gazes at it knowing it had distracted her sometimes from her own misery.

             "You don't have to—" he tries to say before noticing the look on her face. She begins to back away.

             "Be careful, Spence," is the last thing Harry tells her. With one last look at him and his relatives, she sends him a small smile before exiting from his house. She sighs in exhaustion before following the steps Harry had given her. Her hand clutches into the letter he gives her and then places it near her wand. As she makes her way to the woman's house, her eyes wander around the area and somehow manages to glance at the grand hill where her manor rests. It is still slightly early, so they are either still sleeping or preparing to get everything ready. However, she knows they still thought she is still in her room.

             She turns away from that view and looks at the door in front of her. With a gentle knock, a few seconds later, a batty old woman with grizzled grey hair opens the door. The woman eyes her up and down before letting the girl enter as she went to the side. Spencer smiles politely and steps in awkwardly.

             "Hello, I'm Spencer Montague... you are Mrs. Figg, correct?" The young girl greets herself, gazing curiously at the older woman.

             The elderly woman smiles. "Yes, yes that is me. What do you want, child?"

             "A friend of mine who lives across the street... he says that you have access to the Floo Network...?" Spencer cannot help but feel embarrassed for asking. She does not even know the poor woman and it feels like she is using her. "I was wondering if I can use it? I will pay you, of course!"

             A knowing expression falls on her face. "Ah, you're friends with Harry? Very well, then. You can use it, yes. But I don't need you to pay," Mrs. Figg replies warmly.

             "No, ma'am. Please, let me pay you," Spencer denies the free ride, taking out the muggle money she found in her drawer. She figures galleons will not help her since she is not a witch.

             The elder woman places her wrinkled hand in her arm. "It is fine, Spencer. You seem tired and deprived enough as it is. Go on, then. You know how to use it, I assume?"

             Spencer lets a look of gratitude wash over her features. "Thank you, Mrs. Figg. And yes, I do."

             She lets herself be taken to the living room where the fireplace rests. Beside it is a desk that has a bowl of what she assumes is Floo Powder. The old woman pats her in the back and motions for her to go ahead.

             "Once again, ma'am. Thank you for your kindness," Spencer repeats. She tugs her bag close to her body before grabbing the powder and stands over the logs. With a calm state of mind, she clearly and confidently voices, "The Burrow."

             (And when the green flames erupts, Spencer feels herself travel through the world to another fireplace station).

▂✫⌒*･ﾟ

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
damn i told u guys morgana and harry
share the same birthday lmao 😭😭🤚
it was originally gonna be in the beginning
of summer but then i was like do i want
spencer to ✨die✨??? and then said nvm
and then KNEW it had to be in the middle
of summer and my dumbass forgot it was
also harry's birthday LMAOO 😃

so,,, spencer heard that voldy was going to
her manor and she said no thanks and fled.
and honestly, am v glad because imagine
if she never saw the twins again??? never 😠

since you guys continued to beggggg me i
guess she's making her way to the weasleys
now 😾 jk jk she was always gonna go there