Title: She Was There
Author: CSebastiene
Summary: Petunia Dursley never loved her nephew. But as he lies dying in the smallest bedroom of number 4 Privet Drive, Petunia Dursley is the only one there.
Disclaimer: I own NOTHING of Harry Potter. J. K. Rowling has that happy honour. Anything you recognise does not belong to me!
A./N.: This idea sort of just popped into my head and refused to walk away. It should be fairly easy to follow. If you find any errors, let me know. It's not meant to follow canon directly, and I took a few liberties. Enjoy! Seba

"Do you hate us?"
"I should hate you, but I don't. I could never hate anyone."
"We were horrible to you."
"Yes, you were."
"Then how can you tell me you don't hate us?"
"You're her sister. You didn't toss me out on my ear. You accepted me into your home."
"But.. but we never cared for you! Never looked after you..."
"I'm not dead yet."

"Look, I was never happy here in your home, but I had shelter and food. And anyway, who would I blame?"
"Who would you bl -- ALL of us!"
"Right. Dudley? Dudley who only acted as he was taught? Vernon? I may not like him, but I can't fault him for his fears, irrational and misplaced though they were. He's a muggle; how can he be expected to understand my kind? And you? You're my mother's blood. Whatever your reasons for how you acted were, you still had them. You didn't turn me out. And anyway, in some obscure way, it's really down to you that I succeeded in killing Voldemort in the end."
"How could I possibly have helped with that in any way?"
"'Know thine enemy.' Voldemort was a being full of hate; he hated everything, especially me. Hate never wins, never. I learned that from you and your family. You have to move past the hate. You have to find it in yourself to forgive people for things they've done to hurt you, directly or indirectly. Wormtail told Voldemort how to kill my parents. I forgave him and it saved his life. Granted, he's in Azkaban, but he's not dead. Voldemort killed my parents, ordered my mentor killed, and killed countless numbers of people I knew and was friends with. I forgave him. Forgiving him helped me defeat him, because hating him sure as hell wouldn't have done a damn thing against him."
"Do you forgive us?"
"I forgive you for everything. I forgive you for the cupboard. I forgive you for neglecting and ignoring me for years. I forgive you for witholding food. I forgive you for putting bars on my windows. Everything."
"You're a better person than any of us will ever be."
"I don't know. Fighting against Voldemort, I had to do some awful things. People I loved died because of me."
"If you can forgive the man who murdered your parents and loved ones - why can you not forgive yourself?"

"Harry?"
"In the end, it all came down to me. But there were countless others in the background, always working tirelessly to defeat him, that sacrified everything for the greater good. And do you know what I did? As soon as I could, I turned my back on them. I should have worked twice as hard as any of them, but the first chance I had to get out, I left. I wasn't gone long, but so many of them... so many of them died, so many of them were killed. If I had just done what I knew had to be done sooner. But no. I was selfish."
"Everyone deserves forgiveness, Harry. You were their hero from the moment you stepped into their world. Surely you deserved some time away from it all."

"Harry?"
"Don't hide anymore, Aunt Petunia. Don't hide what you are anymore. Keep your family safe, but don't hide from yourself."
"What are you talking ab--"
"You think I didn't know? You may not have made Hogwarts, Aunt Petunia, but neither are you completely muggle. The wards would never have been as effective without some inside magic keeping them stable, and it wasn't mine. Not while I was still a child, anyway."
"I don't... I can't do magic."
"No, not the kind Hogwarts teaches. But you do have magic, Aunt Petunia, almost all muggles do. Most of them just never learn about it. You knew because Mum knew. If Mum hadn't been a witch, you probably never would have known you possessed some magic yourself."
"Harry, I..."
"Take care, Aunt Petunia, of yourself and of Dudley."
"Harry?"
"Take care. I forgive you."
"Harry?"

"Harry?"

HARRY JAMES POTTER
31 JUNE 1980 - 31 OCTOBER 2001
"HARRY, JUST HARRY"

Every year following, at midnight on the thirtieth of October, the hunched over form of a middle-aged woman can be seen leaving the graveyard, shoulders wracking in silent sobs. Behind her, the the marble marker on the grave of a boy who grew up too fast to save the world he lived in shines in the moonlight as if it were newly set.