Author's Note: I have been trying to post this since Friday but the system wouldn't let me upload. I apologize, you know how the system can be and there were problems posted. Ah well, I shall be on time next time not this Friday but next.
Chapter 50
"Where is that boy?" Petunia Dursley muttered, glancing anxiously out the window.
It unnerved her having her nephew out of the house even if it was just to Mrs. Figg's house to meet a classmate. Nonetheless, she had not tried to prevent him from going. Gone were the days when she could hide him under the staircase and pretend that he was a Muggle. He was grown now and a trained wizard. He knew the risks.
It was for her own son now that Petunia had the worst fears. Neither she nor Dudley had any means of protecting themselves but to remain in the house. Worse yet, the charm protecting them was rooted in her and her sister's blood. If anything happened to Petunia, Dudley would not even be safe in their home and she doubted Dumbledore and his lot would come running to his aid they way they would for Harry Potter.
Petunia rubbed her temples. She had yet another headache, a combination of stress and that god-awful music Dudley was blaring from his bedroom. She should go in there and tell him to turn it down and last summer she would have, or Vernon would have, but now she could not bring herself to make any more demands on him than she already had.
Amid all the noise Petunia fancied she heard the backdoor click shut. She heaved a sigh of relief. Her nephew was back. She had gotten them through another day. But when she went downstairs she could not find Harry anywhere. Obviously he had not come in. Reprimanding herself for being so jumpy, Petunia headed back upstairs to pour a drink and contemplate how things had gotten so bad.
It all came down to 16 years ago when she had agreed to take in her nephew. She had not really wanted to do so of course, even after hearing about her sister's murder, especially after hearing about her sister's murder. After all, she had her own family to think of and they knew nothing about the wizarding world or her severed connections to it. Besides, no matter what Dumbledore said, Petunia knew instinctively that taking in the baby would be dangerous. Still, she took him in amid assurances that she and her family would be kept safe.
The last thing she wanted was for him to go to Hogwarts but when it came down to it she ended up with no say in the matter. Unbeknownst to her, Dumbledore had intended all along that Harry be trained as a wizard. With her nephew back in the magical community, Petunia became more and more fearful that she and Vernon would end up just like her sister and James. There Harry was surrounded by the likes of Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew and that repulsive greasy-haired man that her sister once knew. And Petunia could never quite keep track of just who had betrayed whom, save for that one personal betrayal she had endured long ago.
Petunia crossed back over to the window but she could make out nothing past the pools of light from the street lamps. She was about to turn away when she caught sight of something that made her breath catch in her throat. There on her front lawn were two tiny lights shining in the darkness. Magic wands – they had to be and it was unlike her nephew to use magic in the street. Someone else was out there.
Petunia's body tensed with fear and she started towards her son's room before calming herself. They were safe so long as they remained in the house she reminded herself. But what about Harry? He was already out there and it was far more likely that the wizards would be looking for him anyway.
I have to contact Dumbledore, she decided. But would he make it in time?
Petunia peered out the window again and saw the light from one of the wands suddenly lengthen. She could now make out two figures. One was clearly trying to subdue the other.
"Oh my God! Harry!" she cried.
Help would never arrive in time. Petunia's eyes stung with tears. All these years she had tried to protect him only to lose him now when he was nearly ready to stand on his own. But something did not look quite right. Harry was much thinner than this figure. The light intensified again and Petunia screamed in horror. Now she could clearly identify who was struggling. It was her own son, Dudley, wearing the very polo shirt Vernon had given him last Christmas. With a pang she remembered the sound of the backdoor that she had ignored. It must have been Dudley sneaking out.
Determined to do something, Petunia raced downstairs and grabbed a broom from the kitchen. Recognizing it to be useless, she rifled around for something Dumbledore had given her long ago. When she finally found it, she threw open the door with her heart pounding wildly in her chest.
"Dudley! I'm here, son! Mummy's here!"
But Dudley did not seem relieved to see her. In fact he laughed and it was a cold laugh, quite unlike her son's. This was not Dudley Dursley. Realizing immediately that she had been duped, Petunia turned and made a break for the house but it was too late. Both wizards were able to get a spell off and Petunia tumbled to the ground gravely injured. She was bleeding badly from innumerable wounds and it felt as if her very life were seeping out of her.
I'm going to die, she realized. Right here on my front lawn.
The two wizards were jubilant.
"Her blood has been spilt!" one of the cried triumphantly. "The charm is broken."
"We've got you now, Potter," the other wizard exclaimed leveling his wand at the house.
"No!" Petunia gasped. With a last desperate thought to save her family she thrust out her hand still clutching the artifact she had taken from the house.
There was a sound of an explosion, two great lights and flames. Petunia discerned that her attackers had slumped to the ground just before she lapsed into unconsciousness.
Harry heard the explosion from Mrs. Figg's house.
"Aunt Petunia!" he cried jumping to his feet.
Hermione's eyes grew very wide. "What do we do?"
"Come on!" Harry urged grabbing her arm. "We have to help them!"
Hermione pulled out her wand and they raced out of the house. The street was completely dark and the Dursleys' house was lost in a wall of smoke.
"Voldemort and his Death Eaters," Harry lamented. "It's Uncle Vernon all over again."
Hermione looked terrified but her tone was fairly calm. "Let's not panic. I'm sure Dumbledore is monitoring the house. He's not going to let anything happen to them."
Harry bit his lip. He had once believed as Hermione did but after his experiences with the Headmaster this year, he had a sick feeling that Dumbledore would let quite a bit happen as long as he felt that Harry was safe. But Harry himself refused to let his relatives stand alone and defenseless. He tried to plunge into the smoke but to his surprise found that he was unable to. It was solid and he could not pass.
"It's a spell," Hermione explained. "It's meant to keep out Muggles and enemies."
"Can you get us through?"
"Yes, I think so," she answered, eying the smoke warily. "Only I'm not sure if it's a good idea. We don't know who cast it."
"Hermione! Just get us through!"
He held onto her hand as she used her wand to cut her way through the smoke wall. They were unprepared for the scene before them. Harry gasped. The house was a smoldering ruin. It looked as if it had been hit by a shell.
Remus Lupin was already on the scene feverishly digging through the rubble. He was covered with ash and his hands were bloody and burned but he searched desperately. "Harry! Dudley!"
Several yards in front of the house lay two unconscious wizards, one wearing a familiar polo shirt. But strangest of all was the figure of Severus Snape kneeling on the ground cradling Petunia's bloodied head on his lap.
"Aunt Petunia!" Harry cried running towards them but he was intercepted by a frantic Dumbledore who threw his arms about the boy.
"Harry!" he cried with obvious relief. "You cannot know how happy I am to find you safe and sound. We feared the worst, the very worst. Dare I hope that your cousin is with you?"
Harry shook his head. "No, just Hermione."
Dumbledore closed his eyes. "Alas, we feared as much." He called out to Lupin that Harry had not been in the house and was safely with them.
Turning slightly to acknowledge the news, Lupin continued his desperate search. "Dudley!" he cried frantically. "Dudley!"
It was futile. Anyone could see that if Dudley was in the house, he was certainly dead but Lupin, now accompanied by Hermione, continued the grim search.
Harry felt ill. He wandered over to his aunt who was also clearly beyond saving. He heard her gasp out something inaudible and watched as his most hated teacher wiped her brow.
"No," he told her soothingly. "You have not failed. You have done brilliantly."
Snape's tone and manner were so out of character that Harry felt almost as if he were dreaming. He stopped short, unwilling to come any closer because it seemed somehow as if he were intruding upon the pair.
Petunia clutched Snape's arm and looked up at him searchingly. "My – my son, Dudley," she struggled to say. "And Harry – are they – are they alright?"
Snape glanced at Harry impassively and then looked over at Lupin who had cast himself down despondently upon the curb with Hermione beside him, too exhausted to go on. Lupin met Snape's eyes and shook his head grimly.
Swaying, Harry suppressed a cry. The reality of the news was overwhelming. Dumbledore clasped his shoulder tightly but Harry found no comfort in it. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to bear the look upon his aunt's face when she heard that her son was dead.
Apparently, Snape could not bear it either. "They are well," he murmured evenly. "Rest easy; they are well."
When Harry opened his eyes again, he saw a peaceful expression settle over his aunt's face. She searched for Snape's hand, held it to her cheek and closed her eyes.
"Sirius," she whispered and drew her last breath.
Hermione began to cry and Harry felt a suffocating lump in his throat. He turned instinctively towards Dumbledore.
"Harry," Dumbledore murmured, "please forgive me. I failed to-"
The old wizard stopped short and his somber face suddenly turned ashen. His gaze was no longer on Harry but fixed somewhere behind the boy. Harry spun around to see what had so unnerved the Headmaster.
It was Severus Snape but a Severus Snape who was so overcome with emotion that he was scarcely recognizable. Covered in Petunia's blood, he trembled with rage. His black eyes blazed with unfathomable betrayal and they were unblinkingly fixed upon a pallid Dumbledore.
