Chapter 10 – Home Truths

Author's Note: First, forgive me again for any errors. Canon references are still from memory.

It seems like this is not pleasing very many people, but while I have three or four regular reviewers I will keep writing. If there are lurkers out there, please drop me some reviews. Thank you to Snapefan51, Yankeebelle and Ana Morales. I expect that QsDaughter will be back too, but I will have to wait and see. I guess you can see that I am a bit saddened by the lack of reviews for the last couple of chapters… I guess everyone might be busy. Of course, I did say that updates might take a while, but the idea fairy grabbed me by the neck and three chapters have come out.

Please let me know if you still like this….

Anyway that is enough of that. Here is the next chapter. I hope you will enjoy it; it may seem a little odd. Chapter 11 sees us return to Hogwarts, and there will be some tough times for Snape. Now, on with the story!

*

Aunt Petunia looked at the three children sitting at the kitchen table. They seemed normal. To anyone looking at them, it would just appear to be three adolescents enjoying their breakfast, well, Aunt Petunia reflected, perhaps not enjoying… She didn't know what had happened the previous night, but Harry looked more tired than normal and he seemed to be worried about something. That was hardly what she had intended when she had allowed him to invite his friends over. She sighed, even as a child she had never understood the ways of the magical people she came into contact with and to her Muggle mind they still defied understanding. She noticed that the girl, Hermione, was watching her with almost the same amount of interest. Harry and the boy, Ron, hadn't seemed to notice, and were as startled as she herself was, when Hermione spoke.

"Mrs Dursley, I was wondering if I could ask you some questions?"

Aunt Petunia looked at the girl surprised, she had hardly expected to be put in the spotlight. "Well, I suppose so," she answered, unsure.

Hermione nodded. She wasn't sure if she should continue, particularly after Harry had had such a bad night – Ron may have fallen straight back to sleep, but she had remained awake listening to Harry's laboured breathing as he tossed and turned trying to resolve the nightmare. She knew how much he hated Snape, particularly after what had happened with Sirius, but she knew he hated the idea of killing anyone more, except perhaps Voldemort. He must have been worried, too, that it was some kind of magic, he still hadn't mastered Occlumency after all.

Hermione had considered getting up again to see if she could do anything to help him, but she knew that would just disturb Ron. Somehow she knew that Harry was finding it difficult talking to Ron, perhaps it was a carry over from the difficulties they had had the previous year, but Hermione noticed that Harry seemed to sort of close up whenever Ron was around. Maybe it was just a boy thing. Either way, she hoped they would grow out of it.

She looked at Harry sideways, he still looked tired, but he didn't seem as upset as he had the night before, and she decided to take the chance. It might be the only chance she had to get the information she needed. "I was wondering if you had any idea why Harry's Mother was a witch, but you aren't?"

Harry nearly choked on his toast. Tears rose in his eyes and he bowed his head. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear about his Mother, not now, not with so much pain still raw in him, but he couldn't leave. What if it was the only time his Aunt ever spoke of her sister? He sat, frozen, trying to stop his body from trembling, and waited for her response.

Aunt Petunia hadn't taken the question well either. It was certainly not what she had expected, although she wondered just what she had expected the girl to ask. "I don't really remember much about it, you have to remember that I was still very young when Lily got her powers. I was older than her, but we were still children."

"Yes, I understand that, but there must have been some mention." Hermione had done the deed now and she wasn't going to be put off, she wanted to coax as much information out of Harry's Aunt as she possibly could. "You must remember something."

Aunt Petunia sighed and looked at the eager young girl. Her face shone with a desire for knowledge. In a way she reminded her a lot of Lily. Lily had always been eager to learn, seeking knowledge from wherever she could find it. It was a trait they had both shared. The thought of her childhood, of those wonderful days of promise filled Aunt Petunia with sadness. How could things have gone so horribly wrong? There was nothing left of those happy days now and she had spent a lifetime trying to forget everything she had lost. Now, with one question, it was all back again and she knew she would have her own nightmares tonight. The magical world had a lot to answer for.

"I would prefer not to speak of it, besides I honestly don't remember much. After that night," Aunt Petunia didn't elaborate on what night, and didn't need to, "I tried hard to forget what I knew of the magical world. It had stolen so much from me. It tore my family apart and left me with a child that should never have been mine. It hasn't been easy, and Harry's Uncle hasn't made it any easier. I really don't think I should talk about it."

Aunt Petunia watched Harry, he seemed about to destruct. The kitchen was filled with a heavy silence as she turned away from the table and stared out of the window, trying to calm her racing heart. Her loss had been buried under years of anger, now the pain of that loss was back and it almost stole her breath away. She closed her eyes and tried to hold back the tears. She wouldn't allow herself to cry in front of children.

"Please." Harry's quiet voice broke the silence.

Aunt Petunia looked at the boy who looked so much like his father; his green eyes, the only sign of her adored sister, were filled with tears threatening to overflow. She would speak if he asked, but only if he was sure. "Are you sure?"

Harry nodded.

Aunt Petunia removed her apron, wiping her hands and sat down at the end of the table. She looked at Harry and nobody else; it was as if there was no one else in the room. "I really don't remember much, you understand that don't you."

Harry nodded again, not trusting himself to speak.

"For as long as I could remember, strange things always seemed to happen. My Mother would leave a pot on the stove, she was quite forgetful, but when she returned it would have been turned off, so it hadn't burned; father would be about to get into a rage because he had misplaced something and it would mysteriously turn up. I was young, I never really understood, but one day we had a visit from a strange man in even stranger clothes. He spoke to our parents for hours, but we were told to stay in our rooms, then he left and we never saw him again."

"Dumbledore."

"Yes, perhaps. Now I look back, I suppose it was, but at the time it wasn't so clear. Anyway, after that everything seemed to change, but it was still my family so I lived with the changes. It wasn't until much later when we were about to start High School that my parents explained that we would attend different schools. By then, of course, it was quite clear that something peculiar was going on, that there was magic in the house. I was still shattered by the reality of our separation though. We were very close as children but that all ended when we went to different schools. Hogwarts was a boarding school, mine wasn't – every afternoon when I came home it seemed as though there was a gapping hole in my life, the house seemed so empty. It wasn't until holidays that we had a chance to be sisters again."

"But how?"

Aunt Petunia looked at Harry. "I honestly don't know. Your Mother could have told you, but not being magical, I never learned, and my parents never said. Lily constantly spoke of her time at Hogwarts so I wouldn't feel left out, not that it helped much, but I just never thought to ask how she had become magical. It simply didn't seem to matter, she just was, and she was my sister and I loved her."

Harry nodded. "Thank you."

Aunt Petunia stood quickly and hugged him. He was still surprised at his Aunt's change of behaviour, but now things were a little clearer. She was angry, just as he was, not with him though, but with those who had cost her so dearly. She had lost her beloved sister and he had lost the Mother he only knew from snippets of visions that he had, and a few photos.

It was an empty life for both of them, considering how much fuller it could have been. His heart hurt, he had to save the wizarding world, yet he had nothing. Perhaps he would just let Voldemort kill him, he thought angrily, that would show them, but then he remembered Sirius, the only family he had had until recently, and he knew he could never betray him. Sirius had died, his heart lurched painfully again, trying to protect him, and he wouldn't reject that.

All three finished their breakfast in silence. Hermione hadn't received the answer she had wanted, but it didn't matter. Aunt Petunia may have known more than she was letting on, but it was clearly painful for her still, even after a lifetime, and the effect her words had had on Harry had been profound, so she wouldn't push for more. She really hadn't intended to upset either of them, but she had managed to upset both. Hermione found it hard to swallow the last bites of her breakfast, and wondered how she could make it up to her friend.

*

"So, what do you want to do?" Ron asked, it was early and the whole day was ahead of them. Looking around Harry's room he realised there was very little in the way of amusements, but then he already knew that Harry was definitely the poorer cousin.

"I don't know."

Harry was clearly still upset. Hermione moved to him. "I'm really sorry."

Harry looked at her, a look of confusion on his face. "What for?"

 "For asking your Aunt about your Mum."

Harry laughed. "You're kidding right? Don't be stupid, I'm not upset about that, not really anyway. I have been trying to figure out how to approach her for ages. I just figured she would get angry, but she didn't today and I am glad. I mean," Harry took a deep breath, "I mean she is my Aunt. She grew up with my Mum, so she has to know what she was like right?"

Hermione and Ron both nodded.

There was a knock on the door, and Aunt Petunia opened it, addressing Harry. "I thought you might like to go to the cinema, they are showing the three Lord of the Rings movies. I believe they are very popular, in fact Dudley hasn't stopped talking about them." She paused thoughtfully, "They finish quite late, but you can go if you like."

Harry looked at her, and for the first time he noticed sadness in her eyes. He wondered how long it had been there – perhaps it had been there forever and he had just disregarded it. Perhaps he had misinterpreted it as hate rather than the sadness it was. For the first time, he realised just how much power he now had, his Aunt may have shared a childhood with his Mother, but he had something that she would never have – he had magic, and that link was stronger than anything. He could, anytime he wanted, close his eyes and "see" his parents. His Aunt had nothing but memories. Suddenly he felt sorry for her.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Just remember that your Uncle and Dudley will be back at about 12 tomorrow, so Ron and Hermione will have to be gone by then."

Harry nodded. "Okay, thanks."

Aunt Petunia held out a fifty-pound note, Harry had never had so much Muggle money before. "This should be enough."

Harry couldn't help himself, as he moved forward to take it he took his Aunt's hand instead. "Are you going to be alright?" He asked quietly.

Aunt Petunia gripped his hand back, as though desperate for contact with that which she had lost. "Yes." Her voice broke as she spoke and she turned, pulling her hand away quickly. "Thank you."

Harry nodded and pocketed the money, wondering if perhaps things didn't have to be so bad.

*

"You know I don't believe you Aunt gave you so much money." Ron Mumbled, filling his mouth with a handful of popcorn.

"Ron, you are such a pig! Hasn't anyone ever told you not to talk with your mouth full?" Hermione asked indignantly.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, spraying popcorn all over the place.

Harry burst into laughter at the look on Hermione's face, then Ron followed suit, showering both of them with tiny pieces of buttered corn. Hermione looked at both boys disgusted then crossed her arms and stared at the screen.

Sometimes boys could really be pigs.

*

As the third of the epics commenced, Hermione reflected that it had been an excellent idea to go to the movies. She couldn't be one hundred percent sure, but she thought that Harry was at least as engrossed as she was, which meant he wasn't thinking, or worrying about Sirius or Voldemort or now about the nightmare of killing Snape. That would give him at least nine hours of freedom, not that the movies didn't share a peculiar similarity to his life; after all, it was about a quest to defeat evil. The major difference though was that the movies were clearly fiction.

Somewhere inside though, she had a terrible feeling about leaving his Aunt alone, and she knew Harry was concerned too. She doubted the woman would do anything foolish, but she was worried that she had forced her to open old wounds and that it might be hard for her to close them. She sighed and took another Jaffa. Her parents would freak if they knew how much junk food she had eaten today. After all, it was bad for the teeth, but she didn't care, after all, what was the point of having parents that were orthodontists if they couldn't fix her teeth?

"We are all going to get fat after eating all this junk." Hermione declared.

"Yeah, but it tastes really great." Ron, answered. He had eaten, single handed, as much as Harry and Hermione put together, and Hermione knew he was going to regret it later.

"I just hope Aunt Petunia didn't expect too much change." Harry whispered.

"Oh, heavens! We haven't spent it all have we?" Hermione asked worried.

"Nearly, there is about fifteen pounds left. I guess it is too late to worry about it now." Harry answered.

"But we had to eat, after all, it has been nearly ten hours." Ron offered.

"Yeah, we did, but did you have to eat everything?" Hermione asked.

"Hey," Ron answered indignantly, "Don't forget that I don't have Muggle parents. This is the first time I have been to a real cinema."

"Shut up and watch the movie." Harry hissed. "Don't worry about it."

"How about you all shut up or I will call the management and have you thrown out."

Harry, Ron and Hermione all turned and looked at the boy who had spoken. He was easily as big as Dudley. Harry had seen him around occasionally and he knew starting a fight would be a bad thing, particularly when they couldn't use magic. "Sorry."

The boy nodded, but a dangerous look lingered in his eyes, and they all returned their attention to the movie.

*

It was nearly midnight before the three arrived back at 4 Privet Drive. The light at the front door was on, but when they went inside, it was dark. Quietly, not wishing to disturb Aunt Petunia, the trio crept upstairs.

Opening his bedroom door, he ushered Ron and Hermione inside. "Get into bed, I won't be long. I just want to see if Aunt Petunia is alright."

"Are you sure Harry? Perhaps we should just leave her until the morning." Hermione suggested.

"Yeah, perhaps, but I feel kind of bad. I never really thought about how she felt until today. After all, I didn't even know my Mum, but she grew up with her. I thought I had it bad, but she had it worse."

Hermione nodded. "If you need help…"

"I'll be okay."

Harry closed the door quietly behind him and made his way down the hall to his Aunt's room. He would have loved to use magic to check if she was all right, but he couldn't, after all, it certainly wasn't life threatening. Instead, he resorted to knocking. When there was no answer he opened the door slightly and poked his head around. His Aunt wasn't in the bed.

Opening the door further he threw caution to the wind and stepped inside. The room was dark, the corners hidden in shadows, but his Aunt definitely wasn't in the bed. The door to her cupboard was open. Harry thought it was quite strange nothing was ever out of place in his Aunt's room.

A gust of wind came, and the cupboard door banged. Moving quickly across the room he pulled it shut and locked it. He actually kind of hoped that Ron and Hermione were asleep, and he didn't want them to wake up. What he really wanted was to talk to his Aunt alone before Vernon and Dudley returned. Wondering where she was, quietly concerned that something nasty might have happened; he walked out of the room and made his way down stairs.

Opening the kitchen door he reached out to turn on the light.

"Don't."

Harry froze. "Aunt Petunia?"

"Yes."

"Are you alright?"

"Perhaps."

Harry's heart heaved. "What do you mean perhaps?"

"She's gone Harry, they're all gone."

Harry could smell the brandy his Aunt kept for cooking, but he couldn't see anything, the kitchen was completely dark. "Aunt Petunia?"

"I'm scared Harry. He killed her, what if he comes here and tries to kill you and I end up with nothing."

Harry wanted to turn and run from the room, he wanted to run and keep on running, but where could he run when the most powerful wizard in the world wanted to kill him. Here he was safe, but what if he wasn't? What if his Aunt was right? What if Voldemort did try and kill him here, and Vernon and Dudley got in the way? What if his Aunt was killed?" Harry froze in fear; the thought of what could happen suddenly terrified him. What if they all died? What if he couldn't win?

"I'm sorry Harry, for everything, for always being nasty and for not protecting you from Vernon and Dudley. You are Lily's son; I should have been better to you. I should have told you the truth years ago instead of hiding it away."

"It's alright." He soothed.

"No…"  Aunt Petunia let out a sob. "I have some pictures… I thought you might like to see them…" There was a desperate hope in her voice Harry had never heard before.

"Can I turn on the light?"

"Yes."

Harry reached out and flicked the switch and the kitchen was flooded with bright light. He blinked quickly while his eyes adjusted to the sudden onslaught.

Moving into the room he looked at his Aunt. The brandy bottle was empty beside her and there was a large box in front of her that held a pile of photos. There were tear stains on her cheeks and her hair was dishevelled, and with a sinking feeling Harry realised that she had probably spent the whole day crying. Alone.

He moved closer, cautious, not really knowing how to act or behave. This was something he had never experienced. Taking a photo, he looked at it, it was a colour photo of a small girl with red-brown hair and green eyes, and she was waving happily at the camera. "Is this my Mum?"

"Yes."

Harry studied the photo. Somehow this photo was even better than those that Hagrid had given him. Sure, Hagrid's gift had been wonderful, it had been the first tangible thing he had had of his parents, but this was different. This was his family, his family before magic had destroyed it. He picked up the next photo; it was a photo of a man holding two little girls.

"Your Grandfather."

The next was a black and white photo of a slender woman with a small child on her knee. "My Grandmother and Mother?"

Aunt Petunia took the photo and studied it carefully. "Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"It's definitely your Grandmother." She pushed the box to Harry, returning the photo. "You can have them all." Harry realised that she was suddenly pale. "I don't feel very well. I think I need to go to bed."

"Let me help you." Harry moved quickly to his Aunt's side and offered his arm.

"Please, don't tell your Uncle." Aunt Petunia looked at him desperately. "He would never forgive me."

"I won't." Harry promised.

Harry struggled to support his Aunt, and seriously doubted two things, the first being that they would make it up the stairs, the second that she would be well enough to face Vernon and Dudley without them knowing what had happened regardless of anything he said or didn't say.

The first worry was taken care of when they reached the kitchen door. Harry was surprised to see Hermione watching from the bottom of the stairs. "I thought you might need some help. Is she alright?"

"Not really." Harry answered gratefully, as Hermione moved to support his Aunt too, for the long climb up the stairs. "She has been drinking. I guess about half a bottle of cooking brandy by the look of things. She never drinks."

"Oh… Harry…"

"Shhhh, you will be alright soon. Just a few more steps." Harry reassured his Aunt quietly.

"I think I am going to be sick."

"No, no you're not."

"Harry, she is terribly pale. She might."

"Shhh, Hermione, she can be sick when we get her to bed."

Aunt Petunia stumbled and fell to her knees as they reached the door to her room. Harry fell with her but quickly stood and grabbed her before she fell further. "Sick…"

"NO!" He almost shouted, "Come on, bed is just a few steps away." He turned to Hermione and was surprised to find her gone. "Hermione!" He hissed.

Hermione came running lightly back down the hall. "Sorry, but I didn't think we would make it so I went to look for something." She handed Harry a basin.

Harry held it in front of his kneeling Aunt with one hand and supported her with the other. He could feel her body shaking with sobs. "Shhh, it's alright. Don't worry."

"Bed."

Hermione moved forward and between them they managed to wrestle Aunt Petunia into the bed. Rolling onto her side she croaked one word, "Sick," and Harry thrust the basin in front of her and waited while she vomited. Harry began to worry as the vomiting continued, but after a while it started to abate. Hermione handed him a towel, and by the time he had wiped his Aunt's face she was fast asleep as though nothing had happened.

Hermione moved to the door. "I think she will be alright now. My parents told me once that once someone sleeps after vomiting they will generally be fine, as long as there is nothing seriously wrong."

"Yeah, I guess so." Harry joined her, taking one last look at the room. The rug was crooked, the bedclothes were a mess and his Aunt was lying on top with her clothes on and the bedspread over her. Harry doubted it would take long for his Uncle to figure out what had happened.

They made their way quietly back to his room and were about to enter when he stopped. "Hold on, I forgot something."

Hermione looked at him. "What?"

"Just hold on." Harry moved quickly but quietly downstairs and straightened the table and chairs, placed the empty bottle in the rubbish bin and collected his box of photos before moving back up stairs.

When they opened the door, they were assaulted by the sounds of Ron's snoring. Not for the first time, Harry thought his friend must have been able to sleep through just about everything, but then living in such a large family he had probably needed to.

Harry and Hermione fell tiredly onto their beds, fully clothed, just grateful that the day was finally over and they could both rest. Tomorrow would be a new day with problems of its own, and there would be time enough to deal with them then.