The House That Built Me
SUMMARY: Erm...ever heard the song? You know! That one by Miranda Lambert? The chick that Blake Shelton left for Gwen Steffani? No? Oh. You should go listen to it then. Cause that's what this story is about. *nods head vigorously*
A/N: I don't own it. Whatever it is, I don't own it. Good enough for ya? Good! On with the show!
REAL SUMMARY: Harry visits Privet Drive one last time in hopes of finding the peace he so desperately needs to move on with the life he has managed to create.
I know they say you can't go home again. I just had to come back one last time.
It had been thirteen years since Harry Potter had seen Privet Drive. A lot had happened since then. He had a son of his own...three kids in fact. In just a few short years, James would be starting Hogwarts and a new generation of Potters would be vetted. Harry laughed to himself when he realized not much had changed. The houses were still the same, identical cars in almost every drive, perfectly manicured lawns and immaculate gardens.
The Dursleys hadn't lived here in years, only returning for a brief time after the war. Dudley had gone off to University, and Vernon had passed away from a heart attack in the dead of night. Harry received the occasional card from Petunia but, that was about it.
As Harry walked down the street, he smiled to see that Number Four looked slightly more cheerful than it had when he was a child. There were even a few children's toys scattered on the porch. It seemed as though life and love had found their way within the walls of this once tainted home.
Ma'am I know you don't know me from Adam. But these handprints on the front steps are mine.
Harry slowly made his way up the walk to the door, hesitating for a moment before knocking on the door, foregoing the ringer as he remembered with painful clarity the horrible noise that it had made. Someones baby might be sleeping within these walls and as he knew from experience, babies whose naps were interrupted were grumpy little babies the entire rest of the day.
As he heard movement within the house, someone walking down the hall towards the door, he held his breath. What exactly would he say?
'Hi. Harry Potter. Savior of the wizarding world. Used to live here you know.'
Harry laughed at himself.
A young woman, maybe a few years older than he, answered the door with a baby on her hip.
"May I help you?" she asked in confusion.
Harry just smiled.
"I'm sorry mam," he said politely.
"I know...this is going to sound strange but...I used to live here and...I just..." he trailed off.
"My name's Harry. Harry Potter," he tried again.
"I grew up here and...I planted that tree in the back yard. Those are my initials carved into the trunk," he explained.
"I was wondering, if I might have a moment of your time. Just to...make peace with some things. I promise I don't...I'm not usually this strange."
The woman just smiled warmly at him and stepped aside allowing him to enter.
And up those stairs, in that little back bedroom, is where I did my homework and I learned to play guitar. And I bet you didn't know under that live oak, my favorite dog is buried in the yard.
The family that lived here now had obviously realized the desperate need for redecorating. The horrid floral wallpaper was gone, replaced with cool earth tone paints and subtle pictures. The garish carpet had been toned down to hardwood floors and throw rugs to accent the decor.
Harry trailed his fingers along several surfaces, memories springing to life right before his eyes.
He paused in every room, remembering with painful clarity the things he had seen, took time to appreciate how the kitchen had not changed from what he knew, how the back yard, aside from the massive swingset, was the same safe haven it had been two decades ago, and how, sadly enough, the cupboard under the stairs was still just that. A storage closet for winter clothes and broken toys meant for the rubbish bin.
"Funny thing," the woman said.
"When we moved here, we found broken toy soldiers and a drawing of a man on a flying motorbike. Almost looked like someone slept there," she frowned.
Harry nodded sadly, remembering the fear that space had caused.
"That was my first bedroom," he said softly, sparing her only a sad moments glance before slowly climbing the stairs.
I thought if I could touch this place or feel it, This brokenness inside me might start healing. Out here its like I'm someone else, I thought that maybe I could find myself.
Harry was glad to see that much of the upstairs had not changed at all. Here, it was as if time stood still. All the rooms were still the same. The bars were gone from his second bedroom and life and light seemed to eminate from the room, which was now a nursery. A throw rug covered his sacred loose floorboards but...everything else was exactly the same. Here, he found the peace he had come in search of.
Walking down the hall, he stood before the bedroom that had once belonged to his aunt and uncle, before stopping briefly at the bathroom, and finally descending the stairs.
Mama cut out pictures of houses for years. From 'Better Homes and Garden' magazines. Plans were drawn, concrete poured, And nail by nail and board by board, Daddy gave life to mama's dream.
As he walked outside again, he wondered if a life like this had ever been his mothers dream. Had she wished for neurotic normality? To blend in with the person to her left and the person to her right? Did she even know what kind of house she wanted to raise a family in?
He had been to Godrics Hollow several times. Finally been able to restore it and live there. That place had been so much more than Privet Drive. Even in ruin it was homey. Lived in. It had color and chaos and life in every room. Surely that was the life his mother had wanted. One that resembled Molly Weasley more than Petunia Dursley.
But had this life always been Petunia's dream? Or had she once seen the world in vivid color as well? Did she strive for perfection once her sister was vetted to be a different kind of more? Is that the moment she turned a cruel black and white? Harry knew that he would never know, because it had never been his place to ask.
You leave home, you move on and you do the best you can. I got lost in this whole world and forgot who I am.
Content with the peace he had found, Harry thanked the lady, looked around the outside one more time, and departed Privet Drive, never to return again. His life had finally reached a normal he found acceptable. He had a beautiful wife who loved him, three amazing children, and the best in-laws anyone could ask for. Even though his first family had been lost, he had been able to find happiness and peace and build a new one of his very own.
People obviously still recognized him for what he was but...he was finally able to accept himself for who he was. Just Harry. Ministry Auror. Dad. Brother. Son. Uncle. Husband. For once in his life, he loved hisself, and he loved his situation. And for all that he had been through, he could only reflect on the fact that end the end, that little cold home on Privet Drive had helped to shape him into the man he was today.
I thought if I could touch this place or feel it, This brokenness inside me might start healing. Out here its like I'm someone else, I thought that maybe I could find myself. If I could walk around I swear I'll leave. Won't take nothing but a memory, From the house that built me.
~oooOooo~