Of Dust and Faded Photos
Harry Potter hated dust. Especially when it would obscure his view by coating his glasses (which were only held together with tape since his cousin, Dudley, had punched him as way of greeting) in a thick layer. He was cleaning out the attic of his Aunt Petunia's and Uncles Vernon's house. Dudley had been complaining that Harry was looking at him wrong and as punishment his uncle had forced him to clean out the dreaded attic that even his clean freak of an aunt avoided.
He had been cleaning since five o'clock that morning for three hours straight and he only had begun to arrange one corner. Looking around the dust covered room he sat down sighing on an old black (and dusty) trunk and tried in vain to wipe his glasses (that were covered in dust) on his shirt that was unfortunately also covered in dust. He looked out the tiny window that was on the wall closest to him, viewing the cloudless sky and just imagining what a wonderful day it would be to fly his broom, as he was a wizard. But that thought only made him miss his precious school, Hogwarts, more.
Harry stood up and began collecting some of Dudley's old baby clothes, but he realized that he didn't know where he should put them. Then he spotted the old trunk he had been sitting on and opened it up, throwing the clothes in.
Then something caught his eye. The trunk was fairly full of what appeared to be pictures. He picked one up and studied it. Harry felt all the blood rush from his face.
It was picture of his mother. She was about his age, sitting at the beach. The picture wasn't moving which told him it was a muggle picture.
Harry grabbed some more pictures and slowly looked them over. They were of a world he had never known. His grandparents and his mother and occasionally a glimpse of his aunt who was only a year older than Lily, his mother.
Harry had looked through about half the trunk when he came upon an older muggle one. He stared at it curiously. It was certainly his mother when she about five or six. She was sitting on an old wood swing that he recognized to be in the backyard of the house where his grandparents must have lived. She had on jean overalls and a dirty shirt, her feet were bare and filthy and she was smiling a toothy grin at the camera. What was odd was the other girl sitting next to her that was about her age dressed much alike. Harry found himself liking the picture for he had never known his mother had been a tomboy.
"Boy! Get down here, boy!" Came Uncle Vernon's voice from down stairs. Harry jumped, just realizing how long he had been looking at the photographs. He hurriedly shoved the picture in his pocket, being careful not to bend it.
When Harry reached the living room his uncle said. "Listen here, boy. Dudley and me are going to see an old pal of mine and we won't be getting home until late. But your aunt is going to be visiting a friend of hers that broke her leg skiing. I'm not having you in the house alone so when you go with her, I expect you to behave yourself and not try anything… abnormal."
"Yes, sir." Harry said gloomily. He would rather stay and look at what was in that trunk than go with his aunt anywhere. With one last threatening glance Vernon and Dudley left. Harry glanced at the clock to see how long he had been looking at pictures. It was almost one. Just then his aunt came in looking at him disapprovingly.
"Go get the Jell-o mold in the kitchen and come out in to the car. And don't drop it!" She snapped.
Harry sighed and wondered if his aunt Petunia was planning on also leaving him out in the car while she visited with her friend as well.
As it turned out, that was exactly what she had planned. Harry stared out the windshield of the car, wishing he could see past the rain that was beating at the car. He sighed and wished he had a watch that actually worked. (Remind you of someone? Sorry, inside joke)
Having nothing better to do he took the picture he had found earlier out of his pocket. He sure wished he could have known his mother, but she was gone. Harry strongly wished he knew someone who could at least tell him who the other little girl was. It was surely someone that had been close to Lily, maybe even another witch.
Harry sighed again wondering what time it was. The dark sky didn't give him any clue, but he figured he might as well enjoy the car without his aunt in it. On the way there she nagged constantly about every little thing that ranged from Harry's unruly black hair to the unbelievable cost of groceries.
Lost in his own thought Harry hadn't noticed his aunt hurrying back to the car. When she quickly opened the door, climbed in, then slammed it shut behind her Harry jumped up gasping in surprise.
Petunia didn't notice, though, because she was looking in a mirror, checking to make sure her make-up had survived, which it had. "Truly, that women talks nonstop." She was mumbling.
Harry hurriedly began to shove the picture back in his pocket when his aunt looked up. She glared at him.
"What was that?"
"N…Nothing."
"Don't lie to me, I know it was something!" Her voice sounded as if it could break glass.
"R…Really, it's nothing!"
"Let me have it."
"But!"
But his aunt was holding out her hand expectedly and Harry grudgingly handed her the picture.
When Petunia looked at she went quite pale and opened her mouth as if to say something but closed it. Harry watched many emotions play across her face. First Anger, then confusion, then something that seemed to be disbelief before she put the picture in her coat pocket and began to drive.
Harry looked cautiously at his aunt whose eyes hadn't left the road.
"Where did you find that?" She asked her voice sounding angry.
"I found it when I was cleaning out the attic." Harry said. When she didn't respond he broke the cardinal rule. He asked a question.
"Who…who's that other girl in the picture with my mum?"
"One of her very best friends." Petunia surprisingly answered.
Harry carefully asked her something else. "Was my mum a tomboy?"
Petunia didn't answer at first. "Yes."
Harry fell silent. He didn't now what else to say, but her tried anyway? "Do I, uh, know that other girl because maybe she could tell me some stuff about my mum?"
His aunt glanced at him quickly before returning to the road. "It's me."
"What?" Harry burst out. "I thought you hated her!" He said accusingly.
Petunia didn't talk for minutes. "Not always." She said softly.
Harry glared at his aunt, the women who had made the first eleven years of his life horrible. "Oh? And when did you start hating her?" He said spitefully and part of his brain told him he was going to be in big trouble for talking to his aunt like that but he was beyond caring.
He thought he saw her flinch. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it before trying again. "Only when she…When she decided to live in the … wizarding world." She said softly.
Harry stared at her confused. "What?"
"She choose magic over family. After all the plans we had made for the future she left not only the family but also me. Her best friend and she was only eighteen when she decided to get married and go out in to the world alone!"
Harry could have almost sworn that he saw her eyes get a little shiny. Not knowing what to do as he looked at his prim and proper aunt, staring at the road as if her life depended on and was also fighting back tears, said the first thing that came to mind. "You don't look like you'd be much of a tomboy."
Petunia gave a surprised laugh, maybe one of the first real ones he had ever heard from her. "Yes, well, your mother was quite a bad influence on me, you know?"
"Well, no, I didn't know. No one ever told me." That threw them both into an uneasy silence.
When they got home Aunt Petunia told him to finish cleaning the attic by breakfast the next day in the same way she normally would have, as if the whole car incident had never really happened.
Not knowing what else to do Harry did as he was told and didn't even look at anymore photographs.
The next morning breakfast was normal. Uncle Vernon was about to leave for work with Dudley since he was going to drop him off at his friend's house for the day. It was quite normal for Dudley to punch Harry and that was exactly what he was doing when the oddest thing happened. Harry was walking toward the stairs when Dudley started a fight with him in which Harry was shoved against the wall. Two pictures fell from the wall and landed, with the shattering glass sliding across the floor. His aunt and uncle had walked in right about then.
Uncle Vernon turned very purple and yelled, "Boy! That's the last straw! Go to-" But his uncle didn't get to finish because he was interrupted by a high and whiny voice.
"Dudley Dursley! Look what you've done!" The room went utterly silent and three pairs of eyes turned to stare at Aunt Petunia in shock.
"Pet… Petunia, darling, what do you mean Dud-" Began Uncle Vernon but Petunia wasn't finished.
"Clean this up now! Look what you've done! Not only have you made a mess but you're going to make your father late for work!" Dudley hurriedly did as he was told, but with much trouble considering his size. "And you," She said turning to Harry. "Go do the dishes." Harry also hurriedly did as he was told.
From the kitchen Harry could only make out the sound of his uncle and cousin leaving, then his aunt going upstairs. Harry did the dishes in a daze, not really believing what had just happened.
When he was finished he decided to go look at the photographs, but when he got to the attic, the trunk was gone. In a panic he ran down stairs looking for it. He found it when he opened the door to the master bedroom and saw his aunt looking through it. He was about to say something when he noticed the tears forming in her eyes. He slowly closed the door and went to his room.
Later that day Harry looked up from the book he was reading when Aunt Petunia came in to his room. She stood like she felt out of place.
"I just found… I just found these two stupid old picture that I don't know how ended up here and I figured it would be a shame to waste them so…" She placed them on his desk and left without saying another word.
Harry got up slowly and looked at the two photographs. They where both moving meaning they were wizarding pictures.
The first one astounded him. It was his mother and father when they were about his age with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. They where all climbing on this tree somewhere and laughing and smiling.
He looked at the second one and gasped. It was also a wizarding picture.
It was his mother on the swing again about sixteen only this time it was moving and she didn't look so much the tomboy. She had her hair brushed, a sundress on, and shoes. There was also another girl sitting next to her on the wide swing dressed similar who looked just as pretty as Lily and was smiling just as much.
It was Petunia.
Harry Potter hated dust. Especially when it would obscure his view by coating his glasses (which were only held together with tape since his cousin, Dudley, had punched him as way of greeting) in a thick layer. He was cleaning out the attic of his Aunt Petunia's and Uncles Vernon's house. Dudley had been complaining that Harry was looking at him wrong and as punishment his uncle had forced him to clean out the dreaded attic that even his clean freak of an aunt avoided.
He had been cleaning since five o'clock that morning for three hours straight and he only had begun to arrange one corner. Looking around the dust covered room he sat down sighing on an old black (and dusty) trunk and tried in vain to wipe his glasses (that were covered in dust) on his shirt that was unfortunately also covered in dust. He looked out the tiny window that was on the wall closest to him, viewing the cloudless sky and just imagining what a wonderful day it would be to fly his broom, as he was a wizard. But that thought only made him miss his precious school, Hogwarts, more.
Harry stood up and began collecting some of Dudley's old baby clothes, but he realized that he didn't know where he should put them. Then he spotted the old trunk he had been sitting on and opened it up, throwing the clothes in.
Then something caught his eye. The trunk was fairly full of what appeared to be pictures. He picked one up and studied it. Harry felt all the blood rush from his face.
It was picture of his mother. She was about his age, sitting at the beach. The picture wasn't moving which told him it was a muggle picture.
Harry grabbed some more pictures and slowly looked them over. They were of a world he had never known. His grandparents and his mother and occasionally a glimpse of his aunt who was only a year older than Lily, his mother.
Harry had looked through about half the trunk when he came upon an older muggle one. He stared at it curiously. It was certainly his mother when she about five or six. She was sitting on an old wood swing that he recognized to be in the backyard of the house where his grandparents must have lived. She had on jean overalls and a dirty shirt, her feet were bare and filthy and she was smiling a toothy grin at the camera. What was odd was the other girl sitting next to her that was about her age dressed much alike. Harry found himself liking the picture for he had never known his mother had been a tomboy.
"Boy! Get down here, boy!" Came Uncle Vernon's voice from down stairs. Harry jumped, just realizing how long he had been looking at the photographs. He hurriedly shoved the picture in his pocket, being careful not to bend it.
When Harry reached the living room his uncle said. "Listen here, boy. Dudley and me are going to see an old pal of mine and we won't be getting home until late. But your aunt is going to be visiting a friend of hers that broke her leg skiing. I'm not having you in the house alone so when you go with her, I expect you to behave yourself and not try anything… abnormal."
"Yes, sir." Harry said gloomily. He would rather stay and look at what was in that trunk than go with his aunt anywhere. With one last threatening glance Vernon and Dudley left. Harry glanced at the clock to see how long he had been looking at pictures. It was almost one. Just then his aunt came in looking at him disapprovingly.
"Go get the Jell-o mold in the kitchen and come out in to the car. And don't drop it!" She snapped.
Harry sighed and wondered if his aunt Petunia was planning on also leaving him out in the car while she visited with her friend as well.
As it turned out, that was exactly what she had planned. Harry stared out the windshield of the car, wishing he could see past the rain that was beating at the car. He sighed and wished he had a watch that actually worked. (Remind you of someone? Sorry, inside joke)
Having nothing better to do he took the picture he had found earlier out of his pocket. He sure wished he could have known his mother, but she was gone. Harry strongly wished he knew someone who could at least tell him who the other little girl was. It was surely someone that had been close to Lily, maybe even another witch.
Harry sighed again wondering what time it was. The dark sky didn't give him any clue, but he figured he might as well enjoy the car without his aunt in it. On the way there she nagged constantly about every little thing that ranged from Harry's unruly black hair to the unbelievable cost of groceries.
Lost in his own thought Harry hadn't noticed his aunt hurrying back to the car. When she quickly opened the door, climbed in, then slammed it shut behind her Harry jumped up gasping in surprise.
Petunia didn't notice, though, because she was looking in a mirror, checking to make sure her make-up had survived, which it had. "Truly, that women talks nonstop." She was mumbling.
Harry hurriedly began to shove the picture back in his pocket when his aunt looked up. She glared at him.
"What was that?"
"N…Nothing."
"Don't lie to me, I know it was something!" Her voice sounded as if it could break glass.
"R…Really, it's nothing!"
"Let me have it."
"But!"
But his aunt was holding out her hand expectedly and Harry grudgingly handed her the picture.
When Petunia looked at she went quite pale and opened her mouth as if to say something but closed it. Harry watched many emotions play across her face. First Anger, then confusion, then something that seemed to be disbelief before she put the picture in her coat pocket and began to drive.
Harry looked cautiously at his aunt whose eyes hadn't left the road.
"Where did you find that?" She asked her voice sounding angry.
"I found it when I was cleaning out the attic." Harry said. When she didn't respond he broke the cardinal rule. He asked a question.
"Who…who's that other girl in the picture with my mum?"
"One of her very best friends." Petunia surprisingly answered.
Harry carefully asked her something else. "Was my mum a tomboy?"
Petunia didn't answer at first. "Yes."
Harry fell silent. He didn't now what else to say, but her tried anyway? "Do I, uh, know that other girl because maybe she could tell me some stuff about my mum?"
His aunt glanced at him quickly before returning to the road. "It's me."
"What?" Harry burst out. "I thought you hated her!" He said accusingly.
Petunia didn't talk for minutes. "Not always." She said softly.
Harry glared at his aunt, the women who had made the first eleven years of his life horrible. "Oh? And when did you start hating her?" He said spitefully and part of his brain told him he was going to be in big trouble for talking to his aunt like that but he was beyond caring.
He thought he saw her flinch. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it before trying again. "Only when she…When she decided to live in the … wizarding world." She said softly.
Harry stared at her confused. "What?"
"She choose magic over family. After all the plans we had made for the future she left not only the family but also me. Her best friend and she was only eighteen when she decided to get married and go out in to the world alone!"
Harry could have almost sworn that he saw her eyes get a little shiny. Not knowing what to do as he looked at his prim and proper aunt, staring at the road as if her life depended on and was also fighting back tears, said the first thing that came to mind. "You don't look like you'd be much of a tomboy."
Petunia gave a surprised laugh, maybe one of the first real ones he had ever heard from her. "Yes, well, your mother was quite a bad influence on me, you know?"
"Well, no, I didn't know. No one ever told me." That threw them both into an uneasy silence.
When they got home Aunt Petunia told him to finish cleaning the attic by breakfast the next day in the same way she normally would have, as if the whole car incident had never really happened.
Not knowing what else to do Harry did as he was told and didn't even look at anymore photographs.
The next morning breakfast was normal. Uncle Vernon was about to leave for work with Dudley since he was going to drop him off at his friend's house for the day. It was quite normal for Dudley to punch Harry and that was exactly what he was doing when the oddest thing happened. Harry was walking toward the stairs when Dudley started a fight with him in which Harry was shoved against the wall. Two pictures fell from the wall and landed, with the shattering glass sliding across the floor. His aunt and uncle had walked in right about then.
Uncle Vernon turned very purple and yelled, "Boy! That's the last straw! Go to-" But his uncle didn't get to finish because he was interrupted by a high and whiny voice.
"Dudley Dursley! Look what you've done!" The room went utterly silent and three pairs of eyes turned to stare at Aunt Petunia in shock.
"Pet… Petunia, darling, what do you mean Dud-" Began Uncle Vernon but Petunia wasn't finished.
"Clean this up now! Look what you've done! Not only have you made a mess but you're going to make your father late for work!" Dudley hurriedly did as he was told, but with much trouble considering his size. "And you," She said turning to Harry. "Go do the dishes." Harry also hurriedly did as he was told.
From the kitchen Harry could only make out the sound of his uncle and cousin leaving, then his aunt going upstairs. Harry did the dishes in a daze, not really believing what had just happened.
When he was finished he decided to go look at the photographs, but when he got to the attic, the trunk was gone. In a panic he ran down stairs looking for it. He found it when he opened the door to the master bedroom and saw his aunt looking through it. He was about to say something when he noticed the tears forming in her eyes. He slowly closed the door and went to his room.
Later that day Harry looked up from the book he was reading when Aunt Petunia came in to his room. She stood like she felt out of place.
"I just found… I just found these two stupid old picture that I don't know how ended up here and I figured it would be a shame to waste them so…" She placed them on his desk and left without saying another word.
Harry got up slowly and looked at the two photographs. They where both moving meaning they were wizarding pictures.
The first one astounded him. It was his mother and father when they were about his age with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. They where all climbing on this tree somewhere and laughing and smiling.
He looked at the second one and gasped. It was also a wizarding picture.
It was his mother on the swing again about sixteen only this time it was moving and she didn't look so much the tomboy. She had her hair brushed, a sundress on, and shoes. There was also another girl sitting next to her on the wide swing dressed similar who looked just as pretty as Lily and was smiling just as much.
It was Petunia.