Chapter 3 –Significant Developments
An hour later, Petunia Dursley nervously knocked on her nephew's door. Harry opened it, standing straight and with his head held high. He had decided to get answers any way he could. He had spent the last hour mentally preparing for this 'talk'. He knew it might be his only chance to get any information from his aunt, and he did not want his emotions to get in the way. His anger last year had gotten him nowhere and he knew he needed to stay in control.
Aunt Petunia looked appraisingly about the room, her expression unreadable. Harry pulled his desk chair out as far away from his owl as possible, and with a flourish motioned for her to take a seat.
"So, Aunt Petunia," he said as he sat on the unmade bed, "you said that you would finally explain some things to me."
She nodded, keeping her head down and fidgeting with some things she had put on her lap. Harry kept his eyes on her; it was one of Dumbledore's best tactics. Keep looking at the other person; eventually they will feel uncomfortable and break the silence. It worked.
"Yes, er, well, Harry, your grandparents died in a fire at their house, just after Dudley was born." She briefly looked up at him and continued slowly, "It was just before you were born. It was very bad. Everything was destroyed. They never had a chance. The fire department didn't find the cause. Lily knew, though." She stopped and tried to regain her composure. Harry could feel the pain and anger rising in her.
"A magical fire?" he asked softly
She nodded again. "She…she said it was those Death Eaters, they were looking for them. For Lily and James."
"Why?" Harry already knew the answer but wanted to hear Petunia's reason.
"She didn't … she couldn't say. I knew they were in danger too. You could tell how nervous they were. We didn't want to get involved. I had just had a baby. We had to keep him safe. I couldn't let them hurt him too. Vernon said some things to James at their funeral, not very nice things, I'll admit. His kind had got them killed. He had a nerve, bringing his freak friends by, putting us all in danger. That was the last time I saw her. We never even spoke again, it was better that way." Petunia didn't sound the least bit remorseful about their row. In fact, she seemed to feel that her feelings were somehow vindicated by Lily's death.
"Why?" Harry wanted to keep his aunt talking; he didn't have all his questions answered yet.
"What do you mean why?" Petunia's voice rose. "My parents were dead because of her and those freaks! Because of her, everything they owned was destroyed! I have nothing to remember them by! Because of her my baby didn't have any grandparents to spoil him!"
"Neither did I," Harry said quietly. "I didn't have parents either. I had no one!"
'Well, that's because she went to that school, that's because she was as abnormal as you! Because she married that…that Potter! Then they got blown up too and we got stuck protecting you! Put my Dudley in danger when you're going to wind up just like them! Oh, we tried to keep you away from them! We tried to get the magic out of you. Kept you in the cupboard, risking abuse charges, so the electricity would shock the stuff out of you! Those horrible owls couldn't find you there either, not until the mad old codger wanted you! Couldn't keep you from him, though. Gives you to us so we can keep you safe then takes you away so you practically get yourself killed every year!
Harry's mouth dropped. He took in a few deep breaths, struggling to remain calm. Aunt Petunia blamed it all on her sister, all because she was a witch! And what was all that about the cupboard? And Dumbledore! He couldn't think about that right now. He wanted to know more about his family. He handed his crying aunt a tissue and took some of the photos off her lap. She had brought a wedding photo of his parents similar to one that was in his own album. It was a muggle photo, though and no one was waving. "Er, Aunt Petunia, do you know who any of these people are?" he asked trying to distract her from her own rage.
Sniffling and hesitant, she looked at the picture in his hand. She wasn't sure of the names of his parent's friends. She handed him some of the other photos she had brought. Now a little calmer she showed him his grandparents. His mother had looked like their father; his aunt, like their mum. She gave them to Harry to look at, along with a large brown envelope with his name on it. She then left to get freshened up. To Harry's surprise, she still was going to accompany him to the Evans'.
As he browsed through the photos, he couldn't help but think. All this because of a stupid prophecy. All the pain and death. For the first time, Harry understood his aunt's fear and hatred of the magical world. She had lost her family because her sister was a witch. Harry not only was a constant reminder of this loss, but he was in danger too. She felt she could not let herself love him, and then lose him as well. The logic was a bit hazy, but Harry knew perfectly well, why she would think that way.
He had lost Sirius and did not want to feel that pain again. He had wondered over the past few weeks whether to pull away from his friends. They had been hurt because of him and he knew it could have been much worse. He now knew better. First Dumbledore and now his aunt had admitted not allowing themselves to care about him for safety's sake. Moreover, it was wrong. Dumbledore had told him as such and Aunt Petunia's story confirmed this belief. 'If you love someone let it show…' corny though it was it was the best for everyone involved.
When Aunt Petunia returned, she tucked a few photos into an old album and she and Harry headed downstairs to go to the Evans' home. Dudley was outside watching Malcolm and Dennis wash the car. They saw Harry and, mocking him, tossed the bucket of soapy water in his direction. Unfortunately, Aunt Petunia, who had just come out of the house behind her nephew, got soaked. She screamed and looked ready to cry as the precious photos flew to the ground in a soapy mess. Her hair and clothes were dripping with dirty water.
Malcolm and Dennis ran. Dudley just froze. Harry, on the other hand, had reacted on instinct and anger. He pointed his hand at the ruined mementoes and started to berate Dudley for his mates' stupidity.
"Gits! What were they thinking? I guess they weren't were they Dudley? Your mates don't have any brains do they?" Harry could feel the anger running through him. He suddenly felt strangely powerful. "Well, Cousin?"
Dudley had backed away from the enraged young wizard. There was fear in his eyes as he stared at Harry, whose green eyes were now bright and glowing. His anger seemed to envelope him, radiating … something. Magic? The big boy backed away even more and slammed into the fence behind him. Dudley let out a slight scream as all the photos flew into his cousins' outstretched hand.
Stunned, Harry looked from Dudley to his aunt. She was now dry as a bone, as were the pictures he was now suddenly holding in his hand. "Bloody Hell!" he muttered in shock.
"Bloody hell, is right, Potter!" Kingsley Shacklebolt's low voice surprised Harry as the large auror suddenly appeared from behind the house. "This is going to set Dumbledore's beard in a curl, it is! Very, very impressive, though! I got to give you that! In a lower voice he added "and a little scary!"
Regaining a little of his composure, Harry saw that Kingsley was now next to Dudley and had muttered something. Dudley's eyes went from fearful to blank. "No! Don't! I didn't…. I mean, Bloody Hell!"
"I hope nobody else saw that. The Ministry will not be quite as impressed, I don't think!" Shacklebolt said. Glancing at his charges now frightened face, he quickly added, "Don't worry Harry 'we'll smooth it over,' as Arthur says. I think, however, this young man," he pointed threateningly at Dudley, "Should find himself better quality friends!" Dudley bolted into the house faster than seemed possible for a human his size. Aunt Petunia glared at the auror, who had apparently adjusted her memory of the event as well, but said nothing. She looked too shocked still, to even move.
"Where were you headed Harry?" his guard asked him.
"Magnolia Road, number 112, the Evans'"
"Okay, I'll get you there and then report in. Stay inside there for at least a half an hour." Harry nodded his understanding and. after Kingsley retreated around the back, Harry and Aunt Petunia started on their way. They were both still recovering from their emotional discussion earlier. Now Harry, at the least, had even more to think about. No wand, No incantation, just raw power. It definitely scared him a bit, he wasn't sure he liked the feeling that he had had. He had done some unusual things in the past when he had been upset or angry, but this had felt very different. He was definitely going to have to check this out with Hermione. Wandless magic, the affect of electricity and avoidance of post owls. The list of things to write to his cleverest friend was growing. And it was only four o'clock.
Harry rang the bell at the Evans' house, his aunt standing nervously behind him. A man about forty years old with auburn hair, peppered with gray answered the door. Harry heard his aunt take a deep breath.
"Oh my, you must be Harry," he stated pleasantly looking at the boy's green eyes.
"Yes, my name is Harry Potter and this is my aunt, Petunia Evans Dursley," he said by way of introduction.
"Well it's very nice to meet you both! I am Jacob Evans but everyone calls me Jake. Please come in!"
They went into the entrance hall. The house was a different model than the Dursleys', similar in size but very different in mood. Where number four was always immaculately clean, this house looked actually lived in. Harry got a very good feeling looking around at the family photos cluttering every surface, the magazines piled on the table and Mark's toy cars scattered in a corner. To Harry this was more like a home should be.
Aunt Petunia had turned into 'gossip mode', naming prominent neighbors and mentioning their highbrow occupations to Gloria. Harry followed the adults into the living room, catching snippets of the conversation, which had now turned to their families. Jake was a solicitor for the government and worked in London. Gloria, the youth director at the local church. Aunt Petunia was praising 'her Dudley' endlessly. Harry tuned her out and turned to Mark.
"Nice house."
"Thanks, do you want to see my room?"
"Sure," Harry replied but stopped when he heard his name. Gloria had just asked where he went to school, always a touchy subject with the Dursleys.
Petunia looked disparagingly at her nephew. "Well, he goes to a special boarding school for children with problems like his." She shook her head and glared at him before changing the subject back to Dudley. Harry heard her praise her son's grades at Smeltings and his boxing prowess as he followed Mark upstairs.
Mark's room was in the same position as Dudley's, but it was a little larger, as this house seemed to have only three bedrooms. There were toy cars, action figures scattered all about, the prerequisite TV, and video game was set up in the corner on a small dresser. Harry hoped that Mark would not suggest playing a video game, as he had never touched one in his life. Instead, he steered the conversation to the theme of the room. "So you like cars?" he asked grinning at the wallpaper and duvet, both of which had an automotive design.
"Well, I did when I was six. I can't wait to redo my room! It looks so kiddish," the younger boy said exasperatedly. "I just want it plain. Just plain red! My mum's hoping I change my mind about the color. She refuses to paint the walls red," he shrugged.
"Red is one of my favorite colors," Harry replied, smiling as he thought of the scarlet hangings on his bed at school.
Jake called the boys to come downstairs. Gloria had served tea and cakes and Petunia had her pictures out. Harry had gone to sit across from her, when a beautifully framed embroidered sampler on the wall caught his eye. 'The greatest of these is love' it summed up. The words made him think of the prophecy that Dumbledore had told him about. The part about having 'power the Dark Lord knows not'. He supposedly had to kill Voldemort or be murdered by him. The young wizard could not believe that he had any special power. Reading these words, something suddenly clicked. That power was love.
He was shaken out of his thoughts by a soft voice behind him. "Beautiful words aren't they? That's my favorite passage from the bible," Gloria said, watching Harry intently.
He nodded and turned away, hoping she did not notice his eyes starting to tear.
"Here sit next to me '"she said, putting her hand on his shoulder and gently showing him to the sofa. Harry sat and Gloria served the tea. The conversation turned to their possible relationship.
Jake joked about his eccentric Aunt Rose, who had died several years previously. Apparently, she had lived to quite an old age in a large manor house without electricity. He laughed as he described her penchant for wearing odd clothes and strange hats.
"I remember she came to our wedding wearing what looked like a gold brocade dressing gown and a feathered hat that still had the bird on it!" Gloria chuckled. "Quite the eccentric, that one. I guess there is one in every family."
Surprisingly, Aunt Petunia admitted having met Aunt Rose as well. "She and Lily were quite close, actually," Petunia informed them.
Harry knew that meant that dear Rose was a witch as well. He had thought his mum was the only one on her side of the family, another surprise. His musings were interrupted by another hearty laugh from Jake.
"Gloria, remember at Mark's christening party how she went on and on about his eyes! 'Green eyes oh, he be a special one, oh yes!' Didn't she mention some grandniece or cousin or something that had green eyes?" Jake turned to his wife.
Gloria shrugged, "I don't really know, maybe you could ask your dad? Harry, didn't you say your mum had green eyes?"
"Yes, yes she did."
Petunia took out one of her photographs. It was the one of her and Lily as children with their parents. She handed it to Gloria. "Lily had auburn hair, as well, like our dad," she told them.
"Oh my, Jake look at this! Is that your father?" Gloria asked. Petunia nodded. "He looks a lot like Jake's grandfather." She passed the photo to her husband, who agreed wholeheartedly.
"Most definitely! My granddad's name was Jacob Evans also, Jacob Albert. My dad's Jacob Edward and I am Jacob William, after his uncle. Too many Jacobs! That's why we named our son Mark! Caused quite a furor in the family too! We had to make his middle name Jacob, of course, just to keep the peace!" Jake laughed. Harry noticed he had a wonderful full-bodied laugh; he couldn't help but smile along.
Petunia Dursley was smiling as well, a rare occurrence, indeed. "My grandfather's name was William. He died in the war. Is that the connection then?"
"It would appear so," Jake said. Our grandfathers were brothers then! My dad will be thrilled! He had completely lost track of that side of the family. I'm not quite sure why. Rose was their sister, I think. As far as I know, she never married. Her name was still Evans, anyway."
After much discussion about aunts and cousins and grandparents, Harry and Petunia left, sure they had found long lost relations.
Harry was ecstatic. Petunia was disconcerted.
Author's notes: I am also ecstatic! Thank you to all who so kindly reviewed!
Thanks as well to Mysterious Muggle, my beta reader, for his assistance and input, and for making me work my butt off to make this chapter more interesting! I hope you all liked it! Most of the new questions raised will be answered in later chapters. JK doesn't tell you everything all at once, does she? I do plan on completing this story, although it may take longer than I anticipated. It's a lot more work than I thought!!!
I understand the canon concern regarding Petunia being Harry's last relative. I've seen many discussions on that. My belief is that she was his closest known living relative. As you have just read, the relationship is distant (second cousin once removed or something) and had been lost.
Sirius' family tree discussion would bear out the fact that distant relations are not all that important. I personally know very little about my extended family, as both sets of grandparents died when my parents were still children. Most likely, there are plenty of distant cousins out there that I will never know about. I hope they reviewed!
As usual with fan fiction: I do not own any of the characters, except Gloria and Jake. J.K. Rowling is the genius behind the rest.
