So, I have this short piece in mind; it's rather A/U in that I keep Great-Aunt Miranda in the story, so my Harry in my stories never has to go back to those awful Dursleys ever again. It's also something I wrote rather rapidly kind of on the spot as well. In fact, I have this be from Miranda's point of view.
The usual disclaimers that none of the characters except Aunt Miranda are mine, much as I wish dear Harry was. No cash is being made off this or any public acclaim; the characters belong to the swell JK Rowling.
I also want to add that it's a very angsty piece, so if you hate the idea of Harry being in tears or being sad, don't read this and flame it. To all other more open-minded readers, enjoy!
Pulling Through
PG-13
By: CNJ
Miranda:
I could see the pain in my great nephew Harry's large eyes when I picked him up at the King's Cross station at the end of his fifth year at Hogwarts. He tried bravely to hide it as he waved to his friends, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, but his sorrow leaked through. Always his eyes gave him away.
"We'll talk soon, Harry..." Ron's brows pointed upward at the bridge of his large nose in worry as he edged over to his mum.
"See you soon, Ron," Harry nodded. Molly Weasley and I smiled at each other as she got ready to leave the station with Ginny and Ron in tow. Then I put my arms around Harry, who seemed to go limp as he rather fell into my arms. I stroked him for the longest minute as the Hogwarts crowd thinned out. Once the crowd was down to a trickle, I ruffled Harry's thick messy black hair.
"How are you doing, dear?" I whispered. Harry shrugged, then shook his head, his eyes looking up at the ceiling. Then he limply picked up his trunk and Hedwig and we walked out to the car. On the way home to our flat in Godric's Hollow, we stopped at a deli to grab something to eat. I knew Harry's appetite would be very poor, so I wasn't surprised that he picked at his tuna orange mix.
Poor dear, I thought. I knew it had been horrible for him to watch his beloved godfather die so senselessly at the hands of his own cousin. But then again, being a family member doesn't always guarantee decency to that person. Until last summer, Harry had been living with his mum's sister and her husband, the Dursleys. They'd been very unkind to him until he'd run away.
I'd spent years searching for my great-nephew once I'd recovered from a memory-loss charm. Harry is my late nephew James' son. I'd been reached by Professor Dumbledore and arrangements were made for a new security spell to be placed on the flat we now live in. Since then he's spent his holidays with me.
Once we were back in the car, Harry suddenly asked, "What did you know of my dad's Hogwarts days?" I was surprised by his question and had to think a minute. I sensed he wasn't asking this out of curiosity; something was bothering him about James Potter.
"Actually very little, dear," I told him. "Once in a while his parents wrote me and told me that he was very popular." I got the feeling that he'd found out something more about James, something that had upset him. Harry nodded and became quiet again. Once we were in the flat, Harry headed to his room. I think he fell asleep early.
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"...So how about a cheese danish, do you want me to warm one up for you?" I asked Harry the next day at noon.
"Sure..." Harry's voice was sad and flat. He sat on the kitchen table, his upper eyelids drooping, eyes filled with such a mournful raw sadness that my heart went out to him. His mouth was flat, his thick brows slightly furrowed. He also looked like he hadn't been sleeping well. I stroked his shoulder occasionally as our cheese danishes warmed, then I made us some hot tea, orange since I know Harry likes anything orange flavored.
Once I had our danishes on the table, I was relieved to see Harry take a few tentative tiny bites as I ate mine. He chewed slowly and seemed to have a little trouble swallowing.
"Are you still up to having Ron come over this weekend?" I asked.
"Yeah..." Harry nodded much to my relief. Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall had been in touch with me and were concerned about Harry and we'd agreed to look out for Harry's emotional state. They, along with a psychologist agreed that Harry appeared to be clinically depressed, but was not in any danger at present from it. I, for one, am very glad to hear that he hadn't withdrawn from his friends, something some depressed people do.
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It was good seeing Ron again. I gave him a hug as he put down his overnight bag and greeted Harry and me. Then the two of them went to Harry's room.
"We'll eat at six," I called after them. They nodded and carried on to the room.
Harry's appetite was still very poor, but Ron and I ate heartily. Harry was also still despondent, but Ron's presence seemed to ease his pain and while he was mostly quiet, he occasionally said something. We chatted on about technology, psychology, both magical and muggle. And we also touched briefly on the impending battle between the good and evil of our world.
"If we just take down Voldemort, his followers are sure to come after us and others," Harry was saying. "What gives him that power is having all the death eaters under his control."
"How do they...?" Ron's blue eyes were puzzled.
"A book I read some time ago," Harry sipped his tea. "Can't remember the title, maybe Mione knows." I smiled softly. Their other friend, Hermione Granger, can remember exactly where she read certain passages in books and can quote them to a tee. "Right now she's at the Burrow with Ginny and Luna, so maybe we can owl here there." The night was cool, despite it being June, so we headed into the living room and read and talked more in front of the fireplace for the rest of the evening.
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"His appetite is still very weak and he's listless and sad, but he's seeing his friends," I told Albus and Minerva as well as Dr. Irma Belron via floo conference contact later that night after Harry and Ron had gone to sleep at around midnight.
"Good that he hasn't isolated himself," Minerva let out her breath in relief and her head nodded over the green flames in the fireplace. "Has he spoken to you about anything that went on?"
"Very little, actually," I told them. "Professors...doctor Belron...may I ask you...did Harry find out something upsetting about James Potter this year?" They glanced at each other.
"We think he did," Dumbledore told me. "But I haven't been able to find out what exactly it is. I do know that from what Harry told me in my office, Professor Snape had discontinued his Occumelency lessons and I gather it had something to do with it. I do know that Professor Snape and James Potter did not get along during their Hogwarts years." I nodded. We talked a while more, then disconnected. The others vanished with a ploc once we bid each other goodnight and vowed to keep in touch. In early July there is a meeting of the Order of Phoenix, which the two professors and I are part of.
Thinking on it now, I do recall that the times I saw James in his teenage years, he seemed a bit...boastful, I should say. Oh, I'd loved him with all my heart, but he did have the tendency to talk a bit much about himself and take great pride in being popular and admired back then. I also recalled hearing vaguely that at the end of his sixth year, James and his chums had gotten themselves into a spot of trouble. Maybe that's what Harry found out.
After Hogwarts, I didn't see James for a long time until maybe his mid-twenties. He'd met Lily Evans then and they'd been lovers since the end of their seventh year. By then James was different, less boastful and self-centered, and more thoughtful. And Lily had been one of the kindest, sweetest people I'd ever met. When I see Harry's almond-shaped large eyes, they're Lily's beautiful eyes all over again.
Also, the more I get to know my great-nephew, the more I see that he's like his late mum in personality. Lily, you'd be so proud of your son, I thought as I stacked plates into the sink and set them on a washing and drying spell. I heard a strange sound from down the hall. The sound came again, sort of like a whimper, then escalated into a low howl. Harry! I thought.
Rushing to his room, I came in and saw that he was squirming and twitching. Low moans escaped him. Naaaaaa...Siiiiriuuuuuus, pleeeease don' be gone...I c-c-c-can't taaake it, he was alternating between whimpers and low howls, then emitted a louder howl until his voice went into a high cry like an animal in pain.
"Harry...Harry...wake up, it's dream..." I patted his damp face. He howled again and tossed and began to tremble violently. Putting my arm around him, I felt sweat all over his body. Nooooo, pleeeease...no more k-k-killing...he continued to howl. Tears began to run down his face at great speeds. "Harry...it's a dream....wake up, you're safe here with your great aunt, who loves you...." I slowly rocked him, willing him awake and free from the awful nightmare I knew he was having.
A shadow appeared in the door and vaguely I was aware that it was Ron. "Wake up, Harry, wake up..." I shook him gently and Harry let out another high howl that sounded like a strong wind, then his eyes opened, wide and frightened. He twitched, then I knew he'd finally awakened.
"Oh...Auntie!" he wailed, then began to cry softly as he buried his face into my shoulder.
"It's all right, love, it's all right," I whispered, turning on a bedside lamp and stroking his trembling back. He was shaking wildly and clinging to my nightshirt. "You're safe...you're here with your aunt and with Ron."
Ron's eyes were also wide and frightened and he came over. "Is he...?"
"He'll be all right," I whispered. "Another nighmare." Ron sat on the bed timidly.
"It's all right, Harry," he whispered. "I'm here..." Ron then looked at me, his face worried. Harry sat up, wiping his eyes. "Bad dream again?" Ron asked softly. Harry nodded and peered at his friend a minute as if he were afraid the scene around him wasn't real.
"We're here, love," I whispered again. Fresh tears ran down Harry's face as more tremors shook his frail, thin body.
"I think this is the worst shape I've s-seen him..." Ron told me, tears welling in his own eyes. He took several shuddery breaths as he gripped Harry's hand, obviously struggling to contain his own emotions. I put an arm around each of them.
"I know, it's scary, but I think with our support, he'll pull through," I told him. Ron opened his mouth to speak, but the tears won the fight and ran down his freckled face. He looked like he could use some comforting himself, so I pulled both boys close to me and gave them both hugs. Ron tried to restrain his tears, but I think he needed to cry also.
"With our banding together...all of us from the Order of Phoenix and your D.A. group as well as all of our love, we'll triumph over the badness lingering in this world," I told them both softly. "We will take down not only Voldemort, but his death eater followers as well. It'll take some planning and time, but we'll do it. I can see that both of you have swell ideas already and the rest of us look forward to hearing them. It will get better." I stroked their hair, Ron's red hair and Harry's dark hair.
Bit by bit, they seemed to regain their equilibrium. I gave Ron one last hug as he shakily got up, wiped his eyes, then headed back to bed. I held onto Harry a bit longer, then as he drifted back off to sleep, I slowly got up and kissed his cheek. Leaving the lamp on, I headed back into the kitchen after whispering that I'd be here if he had another nightmare and needed me again.
The dishes were now washed and dried, so I had a tea and sat for a while, my own emotions rushing through me. I'm so glad Harry's with me now. I knew he'd be going through a rough time, but I'm hoping with my support as well as his friends, he'd pull through.
I made a mental note to ask
the rest of the Order of Phoenix of the kids could at least come to Grimmauld
place for our next meeting since I had the feeling the kids would need
all the adult support they could have and maybe sit in on a few meetings.
The kids could prove valuable parts in our plans for defeating the evil
side once and for all.
Storyline Copyright by CNJ