Lichfield's hand darted out and slammed against the door, holding it in place.
"That didn't help when my goblin friends came for the boy's things, now did it?" he said menacingly.
If Lester had thought the woman couldn't look any worse that was before all the blood drained from her face and her mouth sagged open stupidly.
"V-V-Vernon!" Petunia cried backing into the house away from them before bolting into what he assumed was the kitchen at the back.
Gesturing to Pinky to lead the way, the suddenly wary girl dropped the paper, drew her wand, and stepped cautiously inside. After scanning the too tidy living room and muttering a few spells to detect anything nefarious, the girl turned back to him.
"What would goblins be doing here?" she asked. "These people couldn't have a magical bone in their bodies."
"You never know," Lester said nebulously, "even a blind Niffler finds something shiny every once in a while."
The door to the kitchen crashed open and an irate Erumpet of a man charged in. "What the devil are you doing here!" he cried, a little pig of a boy trailing along behind. "Get out or I swear I'll press charges!"
"Will you now?" Moody rumbled, pushing his bowler back to expose the deranged blue eye of his spinning around in its socket. "I'd like to see that."
The Dursley man stood poleaxed for a moment, but who could say how long it would last. Lester thought it prudent to produce his wand again. The bellowing man hadn't calmed with age and he doubted whether a single Stunner would be enough to take him down any more; he had to have part Troll in him somewhere.
"Why don't we sit down, Mr. Dursley, so we can talk about your nephew?" he said, gesturing for the man to make himself at home.
"The boy's not here. He's left, and good riddance, I say!" the man fumed, his mustache bristling. "We never should've taken him in."
"So why did you?" Lichfield asked, pointing his wand at the man lest he charge again.
The wands seemed to remind the man of just what type of people he was dealing with as he suddenly forced his obese son behind him and started to back into a corner.
"You can't find us!" the Dursley man cried, looking around for some means of escape. "The freak swore if we took him in you'd never be able to find us!"
"Who?" Lichfield demanded, wanting nothing more than the name to come from the spiteful man's mouth. As he continued to back himself into a corner Lester knew he wouldn't be getting anywhere this way. "Pinky-"
"It's Tonks," she corrected him exasperatingly.
"You used your real name with these people?" Lester asked reprovingly. "Go take a look at what's under those stairs," he said with a wave. "It's time we get things out in the open."
"Just where do you think you're going?" the man bellowed again, the vein on his forehead starting to throb as he watched the girl leave. "You stay away from there!" he roared, darting forward to stop her.
With a jab of Lester's wand ropes shot out wrapping themselves around the marauding man and gagging him, causing him to trip and land with a crash. A lighter crash echoed it in the hallway followed with a muffled curse; Pinky must've tripped again.
"Dad!" the piggy boy squealed, grabbing its buttocks and inching along the wall to retreat into the kitchen, where his mother was peeking through the doorway.
"What's there, Pinky?" he called, already fearing the answer. How could anyone leave an infant with these people?
"There's a little door here with a lock outside any child could open," came her response. "Why would anyone - Merlin! There's a cot in here! Ack - and spiders!" The girl came marching back in scrubbing a hand through her spiky pink hair. "Was somebody living in there?"
"Yes," Lester answered gruffly, kneeling over the fallen man and pushing his wand into the man's face. "His nephew; from the day he got here until he got his Hogwarts letter. And I want to know why," he was rather surprised to see his wand shaking a bit.
A claw of a hand found his shoulder. "Too close," Alastor said, and Lester knew the old man wasn't talking about how close he'd gotten to the foul man.
With a curt nod Lester stood, letting the older man take his place. Alastor was right, he had gotten too close to the boy not to run the risk of going too far, and in truth he felt like tearing the entire house down with the Dursleys still inside, just on general principle. When had he gotten so sentimental?
"You'll want to put the rolling pin down, missy, and tell us what we want to know," Moody said to the door. "You know, it's written all over you."
After a moment Petunia reemerged, holding an envelope in front of her like a shield.
"Just-just take it," she stammered. "Just take it and go."
Moody plucked it from her hand and handed it back to him. Lester took out the letter and gave it a quick once over. It was full of vague details of the Potters' deaths, the unsuitability of Harry's godfather to look after him, how dark wizards were sure to be after them all, and ended with a guarantee should they take Harry into their home harm would never find them.
"Well?" Moody barked."If one of them is mistreated, then why don't they just leave? And sure, everyone likes to feel welcome but how is that supposed to keep them alive? Do they die from not being liked?
.....
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