Chapter 33- Once a Witch
"No use. She's just ignoring us. We'll have to get Ginny to ask her," Ron said grumpily. Harry said nothing. He knew that *Ron* was probably the reason Hermione was avoiding them. "If she'll even come."
"She will, Ron. At least for part of the vacation. You know how much Hermione loves the Burrow."
Harry suddenly heard a frantic knocking. "What is that?" he asked.
"I don't know. I think it's coming from…the front doors."
They turned. Indeed, that is where the rapid, repeating knocks sounded. Bewildered, Harry and Ron looked at each other, then back at the door, then back at each other.
"Has anyone *ever* knocked before?" Ron asked.
"Not that I know of," Harry replied. "Who could it be?"
"No! It's- it's *HIM*!"
"Don't be ridiculous, Ron. Voldemort wouldn't knock, and his followers wouldn't, either."
"Well, why haven't you gone to open the door yet, Harry?"
"Because I don't know who it is!"
"There's only one way to find out."
Ron, slightly shakily, walked to the huge front doors, and he slowly pulled the left one open. "Hello," a woman's voice said as Ron gaped at the damp person standing just outside- damp because it was raining. "Is Professor Dumbledore here?"
Ron turned incredulously to motion Harry over. Harry took a few steps, and then stopped short in surprise. The woman was tall and very thin, with a long neck, and she carried a suitcase with her. *I thought her voice sounded familiar.*
"Oh, hello Harry. How are you?" Aunt Petunia asked nervously.
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Harry paced restlessly in front of the fire. Periodically he would realize that he was biting his nails, and his hand would drop to his side, only to rise again a moment later. He knew Ron followed him with his eyes, but he tried to ignore the presence of his boyfriend as he thought.
"Do you have any idea why she's here?" Ron asked again.
"NO! That's why I keep asking you," Harry answered angrily. "Damn it, what's taking so bloody long? How much could my mother's magic-hating sister have to talk about with Dumbledore!"
"Harry, calm down. They'll be done soon, and then they'll tell you what's going on. And you'll tell *me* what's going on, and then everyone will know."
Harry shook his head and quickened his pacing. "Will you stop that? You're making me dizzy," Ron requested.
Sighing, Harry flopped beside him, making the cushion bounce. Ron put his arm around his shoulders and squeezed comfortingly. Harry took Ron's hand in his and kept it there, contenting himself that at least *one* thing in his life made sense.
"Mister Potter." Harry looked up to find Professor McGonagall standing over them, and sat up straight. "Professor Dumbledore wants to speak to you."
Harry rose eagerly. "See you later, Ron." He followed her to the Headmaster's office, where she gave him the password- which, to Harry's surprise, had nothing to do with candy- and left him.
"Ah yes, Harry. Now, Petunia, it is time."
"Professor- please- I'm not ready."
"There is no time like the present. If you're not ready now, Petunia, you never will be. It is time he knew what really happened."
"What are you two talking about?"
"You're about to find out, Harry. Sit."
He lowered himself into the indicated puffy armchair. It faced his aunt's chair, which was very similar to his own, and engulfed the seemingly shrunken woman sitting on it. Harry had never seen Petunia this way. She was meek and unwilling to talk, but she did as Dumbledore ordered.
"I want to apologize first, Harry, for the way we've treated you for so long. It is my fault mostly, because I could have changed it. I could have given you a better home, and now I am sorry I didn't. The only reason I acted that way was because you are part of a life that I have been trying to put behind me."
"The life where you hated my mother?" Harry sneered.
"Harry, your aunt is trying to tell you something. Do not interrupt."
"Sorry, Professor." Harry looked at the floor.
"Continue, Petunia."
Aunt Petunia nodded. She swallowed and resumed her story. "Lily was not the first witch in our family, Harry. I was."
Harry's jaw dropped, but he was too shocked to interrupt this time.
"I got my Hogwarts letter, and I was ecstatic. I had always thought that magic really existed, and I was just thrilled to be a part of that world. It did not last long, though. I was only able to go to school through my third year- which was Lily's first. They…they broke my wand, for my own safety they said. I kept it- I couldn't bare not to have it anymore."
"I became…bitter. I was jealous of Lily, because she did so well in school, and because she was able to live in the magical world. I wanted so much to *be* her during those years. That was why I always was so mean to her."
"When I met Vernon…I would never have liked him, if I was still a witch. He represented the complete opposite of the magical world. If I was a witch then, I would have hated him, but his opposition to everything I wanted was what drew me to him. I couldn't be part of the world I loved, and I resented it. I wanted to separate myself as much as I could. Vernon was the means."
"You see, Harry, all those years I pretended to hate the magical world, because I wanted to stay with Vernon, and I was jealous of all the people who were allowed to be a part of it. I pretended to hate *you*, because I knew how I was supposed to act."
Harry took a few minutes to let this sink in. "Okay. I can buy that, I could believe it. It certainly does *explain* things…but then, why are you here now? You just suddenly decided to reconcile our relationship, or what?"
"No." Aunt Petunia shook her head. She looked as though she would cry if she were not so numb. "It happened just two nights ago…"
~* She was chopping cucumbers for the salad, watching the chicken which was boiling on the stove, and guarding the refrigerator from Dudley. Through dieting and exercise, he had become healthier, but he still would raid the kitchen at any opportunity.
"Petunia," Vernon said gruffly as he entered. She was too busy to turn around.
"Yes, Vernon?"
"What is this?"
She rolled her eyes and sighed. "What is what?"
He had come up behind her, and he held the item up before her. "This."
The knife slipped and cut her finger. "Damn," she said, going to the sink. "I don't know, Vernon, it looks like broken wood to me."
"I found it in *your* bedside stand drawer."
"What were you doing in there?"
"Petunia, tell me this is not a … a you know what."
"No, I *don't* know, Vernon, please elaborate."
"A *WAND*!"
Petunia was silent. She stared at the wall. It was past, why did he have to bring it up now? She had not done anything to deserve this disruption in her life. But then, had she deserved her nephew on her doorstep sixteen years ago? She had not thought so then… and she did not think so now, though for different reasons. She put her hands to her temples. "Yes, it is."
She looked at her husband, who was fuming as he slowly turned purple. "Out," he said simply.
"What?" She had heard this once before. Two years and a few months ago, when Harry and Dudley had come home that night, and they thought Dudley had been mentally affected. That was the night she had received the Howler from Dumbledore. As much as she was frightened, she was secretly delighted by the Howler. She knew it meant that Dumbledore was recognizing her as a witch again.
"You heard me. I will NOT have magic IN MY HOUSE!! GET OUT!!!"
She stared heatedly at him for a moment, then she let out her breath slowly. "Fine. Fine. I'm going. But you'll regret this. I am certain you will."
She meant only to state a fact, but her husband clearly took it as a threat. He backed up against the wall, and he watched warily as she stormed up to their room to pack her things.
When she came back down the stairs, acrid blue smoke was rising from the fireplace. Her eyes widening, she hurried to the fireplace, where Vernon stood grinning. "You can't do anything to me without your wand, can you?"
Shaking her head, she dragged her luggage to the door. *Idiot,* she thought to herself to keep from crying. *I couldn't use the wand anyway, it was broken.*
As she had only done once before in her life, she jumped out of the way as a purple triple-decker bus almost ran her over. When the conductor asked her where she wanted to go, she hesitated. She knew what she was leaving, but she had no idea where to go from there. "Could you just take me to Hogwarts?" *~
"…and that's how I ended up here," Petunia finished.
"Well," Harry said slowly. "I get that part as well. Just one thing. Why did you have to leave after third year?"
Petunia glanced hesitantly at Dumbledore. "Well…I am not permitted to disclose that information."
Dumbledore nodded. "That's right. It is a very secret matter, and until it is fully resolved, we prefer not to let people know. Now, don't say another thing about it, Harry. You will know as soon as we are able to tell you."
"Now that's out of the way, I guess I'll be leaving-"
"No you won't," Harry said quickly. He did not know where it came from. He found, when he examined his reaction, that he sympathized with his aunt. He had no idea what he would do if he were cut off from the wizarding world. Also, she was apologizing to him, for *everything*. That was big.
"What, excuse me, Harry?" Petunia said, holding a hand to her ear. She apparently did not think she heard right. Harry smiled slightly.
"There are millions of spare rooms here, right? Why don't you stay here? You don't have anywhere else to go."
"I don't know about millions," Dumbledore refuted, eyes twinkling, "but your nephew is right. You don't have anywhere to go, and we have plenty of room. We have places you could stay that would keep you hidden from the entire school, if you wish."
Petunia smiled in relief. "Well, thank you, Professor Dumbledore. And you as well, Harry."
"You can go now, Harry. Your aunt and I have a few things to sort out before she is settled in."
"Yes, sir," Harry said. He stood, continuing to soak up all he had found out during the past hour. He turned at the door. "One other thing, Aunt Petunia. You're still a part of the magical world. Once a witch, always a witch."
End Chapter 33
Please review for confetti. Apologize for the lack of end note.
"No use. She's just ignoring us. We'll have to get Ginny to ask her," Ron said grumpily. Harry said nothing. He knew that *Ron* was probably the reason Hermione was avoiding them. "If she'll even come."
"She will, Ron. At least for part of the vacation. You know how much Hermione loves the Burrow."
Harry suddenly heard a frantic knocking. "What is that?" he asked.
"I don't know. I think it's coming from…the front doors."
They turned. Indeed, that is where the rapid, repeating knocks sounded. Bewildered, Harry and Ron looked at each other, then back at the door, then back at each other.
"Has anyone *ever* knocked before?" Ron asked.
"Not that I know of," Harry replied. "Who could it be?"
"No! It's- it's *HIM*!"
"Don't be ridiculous, Ron. Voldemort wouldn't knock, and his followers wouldn't, either."
"Well, why haven't you gone to open the door yet, Harry?"
"Because I don't know who it is!"
"There's only one way to find out."
Ron, slightly shakily, walked to the huge front doors, and he slowly pulled the left one open. "Hello," a woman's voice said as Ron gaped at the damp person standing just outside- damp because it was raining. "Is Professor Dumbledore here?"
Ron turned incredulously to motion Harry over. Harry took a few steps, and then stopped short in surprise. The woman was tall and very thin, with a long neck, and she carried a suitcase with her. *I thought her voice sounded familiar.*
"Oh, hello Harry. How are you?" Aunt Petunia asked nervously.
************************************************************************
Harry paced restlessly in front of the fire. Periodically he would realize that he was biting his nails, and his hand would drop to his side, only to rise again a moment later. He knew Ron followed him with his eyes, but he tried to ignore the presence of his boyfriend as he thought.
"Do you have any idea why she's here?" Ron asked again.
"NO! That's why I keep asking you," Harry answered angrily. "Damn it, what's taking so bloody long? How much could my mother's magic-hating sister have to talk about with Dumbledore!"
"Harry, calm down. They'll be done soon, and then they'll tell you what's going on. And you'll tell *me* what's going on, and then everyone will know."
Harry shook his head and quickened his pacing. "Will you stop that? You're making me dizzy," Ron requested.
Sighing, Harry flopped beside him, making the cushion bounce. Ron put his arm around his shoulders and squeezed comfortingly. Harry took Ron's hand in his and kept it there, contenting himself that at least *one* thing in his life made sense.
"Mister Potter." Harry looked up to find Professor McGonagall standing over them, and sat up straight. "Professor Dumbledore wants to speak to you."
Harry rose eagerly. "See you later, Ron." He followed her to the Headmaster's office, where she gave him the password- which, to Harry's surprise, had nothing to do with candy- and left him.
"Ah yes, Harry. Now, Petunia, it is time."
"Professor- please- I'm not ready."
"There is no time like the present. If you're not ready now, Petunia, you never will be. It is time he knew what really happened."
"What are you two talking about?"
"You're about to find out, Harry. Sit."
He lowered himself into the indicated puffy armchair. It faced his aunt's chair, which was very similar to his own, and engulfed the seemingly shrunken woman sitting on it. Harry had never seen Petunia this way. She was meek and unwilling to talk, but she did as Dumbledore ordered.
"I want to apologize first, Harry, for the way we've treated you for so long. It is my fault mostly, because I could have changed it. I could have given you a better home, and now I am sorry I didn't. The only reason I acted that way was because you are part of a life that I have been trying to put behind me."
"The life where you hated my mother?" Harry sneered.
"Harry, your aunt is trying to tell you something. Do not interrupt."
"Sorry, Professor." Harry looked at the floor.
"Continue, Petunia."
Aunt Petunia nodded. She swallowed and resumed her story. "Lily was not the first witch in our family, Harry. I was."
Harry's jaw dropped, but he was too shocked to interrupt this time.
"I got my Hogwarts letter, and I was ecstatic. I had always thought that magic really existed, and I was just thrilled to be a part of that world. It did not last long, though. I was only able to go to school through my third year- which was Lily's first. They…they broke my wand, for my own safety they said. I kept it- I couldn't bare not to have it anymore."
"I became…bitter. I was jealous of Lily, because she did so well in school, and because she was able to live in the magical world. I wanted so much to *be* her during those years. That was why I always was so mean to her."
"When I met Vernon…I would never have liked him, if I was still a witch. He represented the complete opposite of the magical world. If I was a witch then, I would have hated him, but his opposition to everything I wanted was what drew me to him. I couldn't be part of the world I loved, and I resented it. I wanted to separate myself as much as I could. Vernon was the means."
"You see, Harry, all those years I pretended to hate the magical world, because I wanted to stay with Vernon, and I was jealous of all the people who were allowed to be a part of it. I pretended to hate *you*, because I knew how I was supposed to act."
Harry took a few minutes to let this sink in. "Okay. I can buy that, I could believe it. It certainly does *explain* things…but then, why are you here now? You just suddenly decided to reconcile our relationship, or what?"
"No." Aunt Petunia shook her head. She looked as though she would cry if she were not so numb. "It happened just two nights ago…"
~* She was chopping cucumbers for the salad, watching the chicken which was boiling on the stove, and guarding the refrigerator from Dudley. Through dieting and exercise, he had become healthier, but he still would raid the kitchen at any opportunity.
"Petunia," Vernon said gruffly as he entered. She was too busy to turn around.
"Yes, Vernon?"
"What is this?"
She rolled her eyes and sighed. "What is what?"
He had come up behind her, and he held the item up before her. "This."
The knife slipped and cut her finger. "Damn," she said, going to the sink. "I don't know, Vernon, it looks like broken wood to me."
"I found it in *your* bedside stand drawer."
"What were you doing in there?"
"Petunia, tell me this is not a … a you know what."
"No, I *don't* know, Vernon, please elaborate."
"A *WAND*!"
Petunia was silent. She stared at the wall. It was past, why did he have to bring it up now? She had not done anything to deserve this disruption in her life. But then, had she deserved her nephew on her doorstep sixteen years ago? She had not thought so then… and she did not think so now, though for different reasons. She put her hands to her temples. "Yes, it is."
She looked at her husband, who was fuming as he slowly turned purple. "Out," he said simply.
"What?" She had heard this once before. Two years and a few months ago, when Harry and Dudley had come home that night, and they thought Dudley had been mentally affected. That was the night she had received the Howler from Dumbledore. As much as she was frightened, she was secretly delighted by the Howler. She knew it meant that Dumbledore was recognizing her as a witch again.
"You heard me. I will NOT have magic IN MY HOUSE!! GET OUT!!!"
She stared heatedly at him for a moment, then she let out her breath slowly. "Fine. Fine. I'm going. But you'll regret this. I am certain you will."
She meant only to state a fact, but her husband clearly took it as a threat. He backed up against the wall, and he watched warily as she stormed up to their room to pack her things.
When she came back down the stairs, acrid blue smoke was rising from the fireplace. Her eyes widening, she hurried to the fireplace, where Vernon stood grinning. "You can't do anything to me without your wand, can you?"
Shaking her head, she dragged her luggage to the door. *Idiot,* she thought to herself to keep from crying. *I couldn't use the wand anyway, it was broken.*
As she had only done once before in her life, she jumped out of the way as a purple triple-decker bus almost ran her over. When the conductor asked her where she wanted to go, she hesitated. She knew what she was leaving, but she had no idea where to go from there. "Could you just take me to Hogwarts?" *~
"…and that's how I ended up here," Petunia finished.
"Well," Harry said slowly. "I get that part as well. Just one thing. Why did you have to leave after third year?"
Petunia glanced hesitantly at Dumbledore. "Well…I am not permitted to disclose that information."
Dumbledore nodded. "That's right. It is a very secret matter, and until it is fully resolved, we prefer not to let people know. Now, don't say another thing about it, Harry. You will know as soon as we are able to tell you."
"Now that's out of the way, I guess I'll be leaving-"
"No you won't," Harry said quickly. He did not know where it came from. He found, when he examined his reaction, that he sympathized with his aunt. He had no idea what he would do if he were cut off from the wizarding world. Also, she was apologizing to him, for *everything*. That was big.
"What, excuse me, Harry?" Petunia said, holding a hand to her ear. She apparently did not think she heard right. Harry smiled slightly.
"There are millions of spare rooms here, right? Why don't you stay here? You don't have anywhere else to go."
"I don't know about millions," Dumbledore refuted, eyes twinkling, "but your nephew is right. You don't have anywhere to go, and we have plenty of room. We have places you could stay that would keep you hidden from the entire school, if you wish."
Petunia smiled in relief. "Well, thank you, Professor Dumbledore. And you as well, Harry."
"You can go now, Harry. Your aunt and I have a few things to sort out before she is settled in."
"Yes, sir," Harry said. He stood, continuing to soak up all he had found out during the past hour. He turned at the door. "One other thing, Aunt Petunia. You're still a part of the magical world. Once a witch, always a witch."
End Chapter 33
Please review for confetti. Apologize for the lack of end note.