A/N: Hi everyone! The Piemaster here! What you are about to read is a fanfiction made by none other than my own mom!!! XP awesome huh? XP lol. Mom: Hello! -waves-
Anywho, I've already read this and it is really really good. so review, mkay? Just no flames eh? this is her first one, and we all were beginners at some point and time! XD After my preaching, on with the fic!!
Disclaimer: I solemly swear that I do not own Harry Potter. He is JK's baby, and I am borrowing him for a playdate. I hope to return him safe and sound back to his mom.
Chapter 1: A change of heart
Harry leaned back in the desk chair and stared at the ceiling. He absentmindedly twirled the quill in his hand as he tried to think of what to write. When the thought of writing a farewell letter to the Dursleys came to him earlier that day, it seemed like a good idea. But now the flood of mixed emotions that tightened his chest made the task extremely difficult. On the desk in front of him was a parchment with the words, "Dear Aunt Petunia,". He leaned forward with both elbows on the desk and rested his head on his fists. He stared at the salutation as if it could give him some clue how to continue.
Harry thought back to the confrontation that inspired the letter. It started when he heard the pounding of a hammer and nail of the wall of the kitchen and went to see what was going on. Uncle Vernon was nailing a huge hand made calendar on the wall next to the stove. July was written at the top in large letters above the boxes that counted off the days. The first through the twenty-fifth were already crossed off in bright red X's. The 31st was circled several times. Harry really wasn't surprised to see it as he was already counting off the days that he could leave his aunt and uncle's house for good and all on a smaller version above the bed in his own room.
His uncle stepped back to admire his work and saw his nephew's silent witness. He sneered and his eyes narrowed to slits with anger and resentment. He pointed to the circled date.
"There...that is the day I will finally be rid of you!" He snarled.
Harry leaned against the door frame nonchalantly, his arms crossed. He was no longer intimidated by this big blustering man. He wasn't returning to Hogwarts in the fall even if classes were resumed. He was almost of age and the ministry was in such disarray looking for Voldemort and his followers that he had no qualms about putting the great bigoted hypocrite in his place with the help of his wand. The results of this knowledge gifted Harry with a perverse pleasure of goading his Uncle and cousin, Dudley, into losing their temper to see if they would get mad enough to force Harry to defend himself. So far both Dursleys, the elder and younger, seemed to sense this and had been able to stop just short of violence.
"That is the day we will finally be rid of each other." Harry answered him in a soft voice that he had adopted recently. He noticed that keeping low quiet tones no matter how loudly he was being shouted at drove his uncle into a manic rage, "Believe me when I say, I've no desire to darken the threshold of this house again."
"And you bloody well won't. I don't care if you're down to your last farthing and starving to death...I would spit in your eye and shut the door in your ugly scared face! You just remember that. And when you fall on your face like your no account father, don't you dare come crawling back here."
Temper, temper, Harry reminded himself as he forced a grim slow smile on his face. "You forget, dear Uncle, that my father was quite wealthy and so was my godfather. Since my parents and Sirius left everything to me, I've quite enough income to get by, so I won't starve...but thanks for your kind concern."
"THAT'S ANOTHER THING!!! Why haven't I seen a shilling for raising you? If your folks had so much, why didn't they leave your sister anything? Why did we have to use our hard-earned money to put food in your stomach and clothes on your back? When do I get what's DUE ME?!?"
Harry laughed humourlessly. "I'm quite sure if my parents had been aware that they were going to be blown to bits, and I would be forced on you, they would have made arrangements. Although it might have been quite fun to see Aunt Petunia trying to use wizard's gold at the Muggle market."
Harry pushed himself off of the doorframe and stood up straight. He took his wand out of his pocket and began spinning slowly between his fingers. As he watched the wand weave in and out of his fingers his drawled, "Oh, I know I owe you, Uncle Vernon, I owe you big time for all you've done. I've just been waiting for the perfect opportunity to give you exactly what you deserve." The spinning stopped. The wand handle rested lightly in Harry's fingers, as he looked his uncle square in the eye. "I would be happy to...ah.. give it to you right now, if that's what you really want."
"Petunia!!!!"
His aunt flew into the kitchen at her husband's bellow. She was followed closely by their rotund son. The panic on their faces made it clear that they fully expected the head of their house was already missing certain body parts at best or, at worst, had been transformed into something disgusting that would draw flies.
"W-w-what's going on here?" Petunia asked in the most demanding voice she could muster under such a startling summons. Dudley was again trying to hide his overly large frame behind her overly thin body.
"Nothing at all, dear Aunt Petunia", Harry answered, "Uncle Vernon was just pointing out that I owe him for all he's done for me over the years and I offered to pay him back immediately. I don't understand what's gotten into him."
"He threatened to do some mumbo-jumbo with his stick thingy!!!"
"Its called a wand, Uncle Vernon, and even you can say I made no threat. I only offer to give you what is due..."
"Go to your room, now!" Aunt Petunia screamed. "Leave us alone."
"Very well," Harry said lightly as if nothing happened. "I'll just be up in my room, cleaning out my closet. I wouldn't want to leave anything behind that could cause a nasty accident."
"You had better be very sure you get every speck of that rubbish you brought into this house with you from that school. I don't want anything to left to remind me of you," Uncle Vernon hollered, emboldened now that his wife was trying to shield him and his son. "Don't want to find a sign of you remaining here precisely after twelve 'o one am of the thirty-first!"
Harry's eyebrow disappeared under his bangs in mock surprise. "Oh didn't you know? I thought for sure it was explained to you...I wasn't born until 4:25 in the afternoon. The spell won't be broken until then. So you have me just a bit longer since I really must stay until then. But never fear, beloved family, I will make sure not to let the door hit me on the way out at precisely 4:26."
Actually he didn't really know what time he was born, but he had gotten word that safe passage out the house had been arranged at that exact time and he thought is was as good a reason as any to postpone getting the big heave-ho from his uncle. He turned and began to make for the stairs when his uncle's vitriolic voice stopped him.
"Until that day there had better be no effing owls or weirdo visitors any more."
Slowly Harry turned and faced Uncle Vernon et al once again. This was something he could not- would not abide even for a few days again. Especially since communication with those in the Order was so vital right now.
"As representatives from the Order of the Phoenix have informed you uncle, they are quite concerned for all of our safety and my well being in particular. If they are not allowed free access, they will by force be in to check on me."
If possible, Uncle Vernon turned a deeper shade of red than Harry had ever witnessed. He knew he was remembering Alistor Moody's warning of two years ago. The thought of Mad-Eye showing up at their door with his all seeing swirling magical eye to check on Harry's continued good health set a nerve in the side of his face twitching. He looked ready to blow up like his sister did not so long ago. Harry decided to deal the final blow.
"Just to be clear, the charm of protection that Professor Dumbledore cast over this house protects me and very likely Aunt Petunia, but I can't speak for you or Dudley. Since they may be the only people standing between you and Voldemort, I'd be grateful that we are getting 'weirdo visitors' for now."
Uncle Vernon moved a step back closer to his son and began to repeatedly swallow hard as if something were caught in his throat. Dudley let out a high pitched whimper that sounded like it came from a very small girl. It was Aunt Petunia's horrified gasp as she stretched her long thin arms protectively around her husband and son that made Harry regret his cruel words.
He met her wide fear filled eyes that were pooling with soon to be shed tears. He didn't know if it was the power of the protective charm or his own sudden maturity caused by so much recent loss and grief in such a short time, but for the first time in his life, he saw the shadow of his mother in her.
Suddenly, he had a vision of Petunia growing up with Lillian as her sister. Lillian was pretty and smart. Petunia was too thin with too large a mouth on a very small face and she had never seemed very intelligent. He imagined Petunia growing up, never quite smart enough, pretty enough or talented enough to compete with her sister. To make matters worse, it was discovered that Lillian had magical powers. She was the muggle version of a female Neville Longbottom and he was filled with pity for her as she realized she stood to lose the only people in this world who were precious to her.
"Right...well I..." Harry cleared his throat and pointed his wand over his shoulder and made a very cowardly exit up the stairs to his room and shut the door.
He was so ashamed of himself as he recalled the entire incident and knew he had sounded like a cross between Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape. He suddenly didn't like himself at all. He also knew that a verbal apology, no matter how sincere, would do little if any good. He also knew that he didn't want to completely burn bridges with the only blood family he had ever know. What if, once the charm lifted, Voldemort or some of his Death Eaters decided to reek revenge on the Muggles that kept Harry safe from him all these years? As much as he disliked Uncle Vernon and his cousin, he wouldn't wish that kind of end on anyone. What if they needed his help? How would he know?
Then he had what he thought at first was a brilliant idea. He would write them a farewell note telling them how sorry he felt and turn it into a touchstone but casting a protean charm on it so he could be alerted if they ever needed his help.
He thought producing the charm would be the difficult part. He used four sickles from his bag of wizard money, got out his spell book and look it up in an advanced chapter he had never turned to before. He muttered the required spell, not sure of the pronunciation and tapped each sickle with his wand. Then he gingerly tested them. When rubbed three times with someone's thumb, they were to make his hot so that he would be able to feel it in his pocket similarly to the fake galleons Hermione made for the former DA club. It seemed to work, too well! When each coin was rubbed, his own turned so red hot, he feared it would set fire to what ever pair of pants he might happen to be wearing at the time. Well at least he'd not miss the warning.
He found that making the warning sickles was the easy part. Putting the right words on paper was maddening. He sighed. Maybe it would be clearer tomorrow.
The sun began to set changing the light coming in through the window into a soft reddish orange. His growling stomach reminded him that he had been working on that cursed letter for hours. He decided that since it was obvious he had not been invited to come down to supper, he would give his relatives a break from his unwanted company and wait until they turned in before he went to see what he could scrounge. He rifled through the debris in his half filled trunk and found a couple of chocolate frogs to stave off his hunger.
He stretched out on his bed munching thoughtfully on a frog. The fight and worrying over that stupid letter had actually been a blessing in disguise. He hadn't thought about the last year and all the horror, loss, and grief all day a first since he last stepped off the Hogwarts Express. Until that moment he hadn't relived that horrible moment when he stood helplessly frozen and mute as Snape murdered Dumbledore. Harry's throat tightened with sobs that had escaped from him too many times the last few weeks. He had loved Dumbledore probably more than he had loved anyone else. He had been more than a father figure and mentor to Harry.
Cedric, Sirius, and Dumbledore...all gone. The knowledge that he had been marked as the one person who could defeat the Dark Lord. The prophecy would be fulfilled, either he would find and destroy the horcruxes and ultimately kill Voldemort or he himself would die. It all seemed possible before. But that was until Dumbledore's death. Now he felt very much alone.
Of course that wasn't really true. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had totally refused to allow Harry to face his fate without their help. Ginny had gone so far as to send him an owl to inform him that their break up was off and let him know that if fighting the Dark Forces numbered her days on this earth, she intended to spend them with the best kisser in all of Great Britain.
The Order also made it very clear that they intended to fight with Harry in any way that they could. Fred, George, Bill, and Charlie offered their help as well. Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood even wrote to say that Harry only had to say the word and they would be at his side.
Every one agreed that nothing concrete would be planned until they all met at Bill and Fleur's wedding. Anyone who cared about the Weasley's were determined not to allow anything to happen to ruin what seemed to be the last chance of a truly happy day for a very long while. Meanwhile, Harry was getting several owl letters a day filled with words of sympathy and encouragement. Ginny wrote at least once a day which put a strain on poor old Errol, the family's owl. He received visitors at least three times since he'd been home in all sorts of mixed up muggle disguises, much to his aunt and uncle's dismay. Those visits were very brief, but it reminded him that their were still people out there that cared for him.
Harry tried to think on these positive things instead. He remembered the very short, wonderful time when he and Ginny spent long hours walking together on the school grounds. He had to admit that kissing her was a wonderful past time and would love to resume that form of recreation. He wouldn't miss the wedding for the world. But the thought that he could possibly lose any one else he loved...he couldn't bare it.
Tears stubbornly came unbidden. It was too much. His burden weighed on him heavier than ever. His hunger forgotten in his sorrow, he rolled over onto his stomach and buried his face into his pillow. He knew it was useless to fight it when the waves of pain became too great to stuff back down and it was best to allow himself to sob through gritted teeth until exhaustion caused him to fall into a deep dreamless sleep that lasted for hours. He hated feeling so weak, to not be able to control his emotions, but he also sensed that if he didn't let it to happen now, he wouldn't be able to be strong when he would need to in a very short time.