Confidential Report to Albus Dumbledore
Prepared by Arabella Figg, Privet Drive Watch
Albus,
As requested, I continue to monitor the boys left in the care of the Dursley household at Number Four. I regret to inform you that conditions remain troubling, and recent developments demand your attention.
Since their placement, Harry and his cousin Void have not been treated with the care one might expect for children of their age. I had long suspected neglect, but recent events confirm it beyond doubt. They are kept now in the attic, not the cupboard, which is little improvement. Vernon Dursley seems determined not only to control them, but to keep their reality hidden from the world.
The neighbors whisper of odd sounds and shadows from above the house, though they are too polite to press. Petunia Dursley's face is drawn tighter each day; she avoids my eye when I greet her on the street.
More concerning, however, is the boy called Void.
Harry is much as expected — kind, quiet, eager for any scrap of comfort or kindness. Yet he clings to Void as if to a shield, and with reason. The cousin seems always at Harry's side, watching over him with a vigilance far beyond his years. I have witnessed Dudley lift a hand against Harry more than once, only for Void to appear in silence at his shoulder. A single look from those dark eyes is enough to send the bully stumbling away.
But there is something more.
Several times, I have caught Void staring at me — across the garden fence, or from the narrow window of the attic when the light strikes just so. His gaze is steady, unblinking, as though he knows. I cannot shake the sense that he sees me not as a neighbor, but as what I am.
It unsettles me, Albus. The boy looks at me as though he can hear thoughts unspoken. There is no fear in his eyes, nor even curiosity, but recognition. As if he already understands the part I play.
And there is the matter of the creature.
Twice now, when the light was right and the wind lifted the hem of his sleeve, I glimpsed movement — a flicker of black scales shifting close against his skin. Once, in the garden, I saw the faint outline of a serpent's head emerge just enough to taste the air with its tongue before retreating beneath the boy's clothes. Its eyes gleamed oddly, as if carrying streaks of color that did not belong to any natural snake I know.
I have made discreet inquiries, but no record matches the creature I saw. Petunia herself seems aware of it — fearful, yet silent. She does not scream, as one might expect, but treats it with the same strained quiet she once reserved for her sister.
Harry appears fragile but not broken, thanks in no small part to Void's presence. Yet the cousin carries himself differently — older, sharper, with an air I have never seen in a child. Protective, yes, but also… dangerous, in ways I cannot name.
I urge caution. Harry is safe only because Void stands between him and the worst of the Dursleys' cruelty. But I believe this cousin will not stay hidden forever. His eyes say as much — they look back at me as though he is waiting.
Faithfully,Arabella Figg
Dumbledore's Study
Albus Dumbledore sat alone at his desk, Arabella's parchment spread before him. The lamplight caught the sharp strokes of her handwriting as Fawkes dozed quietly on his perch, feathers rustling in the silence.
He read the report a second time, then a third, his fingers steepled beneath his chin.
Void.
A boy unexpected in every way. Protective. Perceptive. Far too aware for his age. Arabella's words carried unease, and Dumbledore did not dismiss them lightly. That the child seemed to sense her watchfulness. That he carried a serpent of unknown origin. That his presence alone shielded Harry from neglect and cruelty.
This was not chance.
And yet, there were too many unknowns.
"Old blood," Dumbledore murmured, recalling whispers from his own long-ago studies. Families with peculiar magics, buried deep and thought extinguished. A thread of ancestry that had slipped from record, but not, perhaps, from reality.
There had been rumors about Lily's twin sister, Amara. Unlike Lily, who was drawn into the heart of the wizarding world's light, Amara had slipped quietly to its edges. She had married a man few in Britain knew well — James Potter's half-brother.
The man's origins were shrouded. Even Dumbledore, with all his reach and learning, had never uncovered them. What was known was that he had been adopted as an infant by Dorea Potter née Black, raised as her son, bound both legally and magically into the Potter family tree. His name had stood beside James's since childhood — Void L. Potter — though no parchment spoke of where he had been born.
Unlike James, this Void had not been schooled at Hogwarts. Fascinated by the traditions of the East, he had gained leave to study at an Asian school of magic — one whose methods were older, stricter, and deeply disciplined. He spent years abroad, delving into foreign charms and rituals unknown in Britain, until the day James graduated Hogwarts.
Only then had he returned to Britain. It was at a gathering that summer that he met Amara Evans, Lily's twin. Where Lily's fire burned bright, Amara's quiet strength had matched his shadowed calm. Their bond was swift, and their marriage soon followed.
From that union came a child. A boy named after his father — Void L. Potter — who now lived, half-hidden, in the attic of Number Four Privet Drive.
Dumbledore's gaze lingered on Arabella's report. Too many coincidences, he thought grimly. A twin sister forgotten, a half-brother lost to adoption and foreign schools, a serpent that did not belong… and now a boy who seemed far older than his years.
Quiet Plans
That evening, in a quiet chamber above a teashop in Diagon Alley, Elphias Doge listened as Dumbledore outlined the matter.
"You are known to the Muggle world as a cultural attaché," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes calm but sharp. "A dignitary with an interest in British industry and culture. Vernon Dursley's company is precisely the sort of circle into which such a figure might be welcomed."
Doge nodded, his expression warm beneath his silver hair. "And behind that cover?"
"You will be my eyes and ears," Dumbledore replied softly. "Arabella has observed more than enough to warrant closer watch. I need someone practiced in diplomacy, who can move between Muggle and wizarding circles without suspicion. Someone who knows how to listen."
Doge smiled faintly. "And to watch these boys — Harry, and this Void."
"Precisely." Dumbledore's gaze drifted toward the window, where the lamps of Diagon Alley burned faint against the night. "Gauge them. See how they present themselves among others. More importantly, see how others respond. A child like Void will not go unnoticed forever. If he protects Harry — if he carries the shadow of something older — then we must understand the part he is meant to play."
Fawkes gave a soft trill, as if echoing the weight of his words.
Doge leaned back, folding his hands. "And if I find what you fear, Albus? Or what you hope?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled faintly, though gravity pulled at his voice. "Then we will be ready. For now, silence is our ally. The Dursleys believe themselves safe in their cruelty. Augustus Fairchild believes he has found a model guardian. Between those illusions lies a truth neither world yet understands."
He folded Arabella's parchment neatly, sliding it into his robes.
"Watch them well, Elphias. Especially Void. He is more than he appears — and the time will come when both our worlds must reckon with that truth."