HARRY POTTER AND THE VEIL OF DEATH
CHAPTER ONE: REMEMBER MY LAST...
The stars glittered in the night sky and the inhabitants of number four Privet Drive slept soundly in their beds, all but one unaware that all around the house cloaked figures were apparating onto the well manicured lawn. A teenage boy, his black hair untidy, his glasses slightly askew stared out at them from his bedroom window on the second story, the fingers of his right hand wrapped firmly around his wand as the fingers on his left trailed his scar, now a horrible combination of deep red and black.
Harry Potter quickly ducked as the hidden faces turned in unison to stare directly up at his window. He couldn't help but wonder if they were friend or foe, but as of late had begun to dread the worst. However, down below very familiar voices confirmed otherwise.
"They'll kick him out straight away at midnight Albus," a woman's voice said concernedly from between the folds.
"If indeed they decide to kick Harry out," Albus templed his fingers together and they disappeared beneath his hood. "he will not leave without the truth."
"So we're here to escort..."
"Yes, Remus, we're taking him home."
They made their way up the walk in unison, each of the figures submerged in their own troubling thoughts about the situation looming ahead. As Dumbledore, the tallest figure in the group by far, made to raise the doorknocker, a sudden gasp from those in back made him turn and watch as a pair of headlights bathed the driveway and stoop in light.
The sound of the gasp drifted its way through the now partially cracked window and Harry rose up again, chancing a peek outside to see what was happening. The sight that met his eyes was most peculiar.
He watched as the wizards and witches, wands partially out and on the ready, studied Dudley Dursley sitting behind the wheel of a sports car, his present from Mummy and Daddy for another successful year of bullying at Smeltings. Beside him was his rather revolting girlfriend, Ravelta Dingleton who as Harry watched with disgust, was climbing into the back seat of the car with Dudley trying to squeeze his broad shoulders and rather large rump in behind her.
"What a revolting boy. Would it be okay if I just er," a witch with a high pitched voice twirled her wand around her fingers, the nails of which were unable to decide whether to stay a shocking red or a violent violet.
"Absolutely not Tonks," Minerva hissed. "it's for the best he didn't see us," she paused. "stupid git."
The group fell silent once more as Dumbledore cleared his throat. From upstairs Harry heard the quick succession of three raps before a pause. It took only two minutes for the house to spring to life.
"Oh dear, I bet Diddykins forgot his key again--" came the distinct voice of Aunt Petunia in the bedroom across the hall. Uncle Vernon gave a loud grunt beside her before chuckling.
"Ah, takes after me I always say. Could hardly get away from the girls I tell ya--"
Three more raps came from downstairs, and curiosity piqued, Harry inched his way to his locked door, raising the cat flap for a chance to hear what might be happening. Only the sight of the lower half of Aunt Petunia wrapped in a floral robe met his gaze, however barely a minute later he heard her screaming horribly at the top of her lungs.
Jumping to his feet, wand raised he unbolted his door, taking the steps two at a time and jumping down quickly to the landing. Hard footsteps behind him pounded in his ears as he heard Uncle Vernon wheezing and sputtering with anger.
"I SAY--"
But Harry did not stop to listen to Uncle Vernon's bellows, instead flinging himself into the hall and towards Aunt Petunia who lay smashed against the wall, the door once against closed, fighting for breath, her hand clutched over her heart.
"What happened?"
She opened her mouth but her response was muffled by the door swinging open once more, the group of cloaked figures Harry had seen from his room entering, murmuring amongst themselves. Getting into defensive position Harry braced himself for taking on the whole bunch.
"Lower your wand boy," a voice growled from beneath a cloak. "I told you two summers ago and I tell you now that--"
"Enough Alastor," the wizard in front said calmly. Harry's stomach lurched in pleasant surprise as the figure slid back the hood to reveal the flowing beard and wise, sparkling blue eyes that could belong to none other than Albus Dumbledore.
"An early Happy Birthday to you Harry," he said regally, bowing.
"You're," Harry lowered his wand. "all here for my birthday?"
"Ah, yes," Dumbledore said with a pause, his gaze meeting Petunia's who for a fleeting second looked as if she knew him.
"NOW SEE HERE I WILL NOT HAVE YOU PEOPLE--"
A soft hooting diminished Uncle Vernon's bellows as an owl swept over the group, dropping a wrapped brown package at Harry's feet.
"AND THESE BLASTED OWLS!--"
"It's from Hagrid!" Harry said happily, tucking the parcel under his arm. Dumbledore's smile widened.
"He was unable to come with us tonight," he paused as he saw the look on Harry's face. "He is still in one piece, minus a few burns here and there. Now, would you mind," his gaze once again returned to Petunia. "if we might make ourselves at home?"
"I VERY MUCH MIND--"
"Vernon," Aunt Petunia said slowly. "I think we should."
Her face was pale as she led them all into the living room, the plush armchairs and couches quickly occupied by witches and wizards whose faces became uncloaked almost simultaneously.
"Professor McGonagall...Professor Lupin!" Harry said, a lump pushing against his Adam's Apple. "I--"
"We don't have much time Harry," Dumbledore said and Harry turned and studied him looking oddly out of place in Aunt Petunia's rocker.
"DAMN RIGHT YOU DON'T, I'LL GIVE YOU FIVE MINUTES TO--"
"Oh, yes, dear me," Dumbledore's eyes swung up to meet Uncle Vernon's fiery beady eyed gaze. "I almost forgot to mention that we believe your son is waiting to speak to you out in the drive."
Curiosity smothering another of Uncle Vernon's rants, he walked back into the hall. Everyone remained silent and Harry grinned as Dumbledore give him a wink before more outbursts began to fire from outside in the driveway where Harry could only think (with a queasy stomach, mind) the sight that had greeted an already purple faced Uncle Vernon.
"Well I believe we are now ready to begin," Dumbledore said and Harry caught the immediate drop to absolutely seriousness in his voice. "Harry, tonight at midnight you will be seventeen."
"Yes, I know," Harry said with a nod, looking around at many members of the Order, none of whom were smiling at this bit of information.
"And tonight it is well within your rights to know the absolute truth."
"But--"
Dumbledore held up a steady hand, catching Harry with a mind full of thoughts and a mixture of what was to come. He had learned the hard way in the last few years that the truth was not always pleasant but always necessary to his continued struggle.
"However, if you are to know the whole story it must begin with your Aunt Petunia."
Harry had almost forgotten about Aunt Petunia who had flattened herself against the wall leading into the hall, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her mouth formed a thin, yet quivering line as the whole room seemed to spotlight on her.
"There's absolutely nothing to tell," she began simply.
"Ah, but there is Petunia," Dumbledore said quietly.
"After tonight my burden is done. Done I say!" Aunt Petunia spat, stopping only when she heard the sound of many fingertips reaching for wands.
"This is what Harry must know. He must know it ALL Petunia."
She marched out of the shadows and came to stand in the center of the room, turning herself so that she could look at no one but Harry. With unnerving calm she began to talk like someone who had just drank a whole flask of Vitaserum.
"Before you were even a thought in my sister's mind she and I were innocent girls living in a normal world without any of this," she spread her arms wide indicating the cloaks and various wands still on the defensive. "And that's when..."
"My mum received her letter," said Harry dully. He had already heard this story, had known it since the first day he knew he would be attending Hogwarts. "And me grandparents were thrilled."
"Yes Harry," Dumbledore said with a smile. "and WHY were they thrilled Petunia?"
He watched her lips quiver, and saw astonishingly bright tears well up into her cold gray eyes. Her next statement came out barely a croak, but the words were effective never-the-less.
"Because their favorite daughter was able to go to school with the son of their best friends," she made a face as if her words were becoming rapidly sour. "The Potters."
"My...mum knew dad before Hogwarts? But you said they met at scho--"
"Don't you think I was ashamed? Ashamed of the way my parents revered those people? How they worked to make Lily and James fall for each other? I was the only one to see them for who they really were. Absolute freaks, weirdos, disgusting u--"
"She's wasting our time Albus," Alastor growled, his slashed lips lifting so that his jagged teeth flashed with great dislike at Aunt Petunia.
"No, she isn't. She just hasn't gotten to the most important part yet," Dumbledore said quietly. "And I would hate to do it for her." Aunt Petunia turned to look at him once again, and they exchanged a look that only they understood.
"You," Harry paused, choosing his words carefully. "You knew my father then. You knew him well?"
It took her the better part of five minutes and a wide range of facial coloration ranging from her pale white to a very vomital green before she said something so quietly that he was unable to hear.
"He did not hear you Petunia," Dumbledore said quietly.
"I said," she whimpered, staring anywhere but into any of their faces. "I loved him."
The room went dead except for the sound of Tonks changing her eyes from large owl-like orbs to tiny mousey beads. It was the silence more than anything that made Harry uncomfortable.
"You loved my dad?"
"Petunia, dear, if you would please step outside a moment. I believe Vernon and your son are standing there wondering why they can't get back inside so if you would inform them both that we need to speak to Harry alone for a few moments..."
As if there was an underlying story in these words she nodded, heading to the door without complaint, a red flush creeping up her long neck. As soon as the front door closed behind her, murmurings began but before they could reach a level of high pitched fervor Dumbledore rose.
"Harry, it was a very peculiar and tense moment sixteen years ago that lead you to this house. I have informed you of the most pressing issues throughout the years but tonight I feel it is my duty while I still have breath left within me to piece it together and lay it before you so that you, Harry, can draw your own conclusions from its midst," he stated solemnly, his hands pressed together in front of him.
Harry sat transfused in his seat, his forehead knitted as his temples pounded. He still could not gather how his Aunt Petunia, who cursed the name of all that was magical, could have loved James Potter, born from a long line of generations of witches and wizards.
"I had," Dumbledore interrupted his thoughts and Harry met his wizened blue gaze. "the honor of meeting with your grandparents at this very house when Lily was accepted to Hogwarts. As Petunia said, she had observed their delight, but it took several hours indeed for them to realize the immense honor in having produced from a long line of Muggle heritage, a witch. " Dumbledore laughed, caught in his own Pensieve-like memory. "Quite like the meeting I had six years ago with Miss Granger's family I might add."
He caught Harry's eye and for a moment smiled softly.
"However, unlike my meeting with Miss Granger, there was a very curious young lady with a penchant for knowledge who, when she heard that Hogwarts was an honor, came out of hiding to ask if she could also attend, for this young lady adored her sister. You know, Harry, who this young lady was?"
"Aunt Petunia," Harry said automatically but he couldn't help but struggle in conjuring an image of a young idolizing Aunt Petunia.
"Right you are, but alas, I had to give, not only her, but her parents, the depressing news that she did not seem to possess any magical power and therefore would, withstanding an overnight transformation, not be receiving a letter the next year. It was after this that I'm afraid the animosity between Lily and Petunia began."
"But my father..."
"Your father, as I am sure you have gathered by now, was more than a bit of a jokester. Not only the pranks to be pulled on Severus turned cruel."
Harry felt a deep surge of guilt, the same guilt that plagued him when he remembered the things that his father was notorious for.
"I will say this only once Harry, and I mean every word, that your father loved your mother. But, at the same time he thought it a nice way to pass the summertime by assuring Petunia that he indeed fancied her more."
"What--"
"I do not know the exact details but I do know that what transpired that summer was so foul, so ugly that Petunia swore never to speak the names of Lily and James ever again, however," he paused, his eyes misting over. "even though she would not admit it, it has become clear to me that she still loved them both for Harry, she not only harbors the protection of the love of your mother via blood, but also that of your father, unrequited as it was."
"But Professor Dumbledore," Harry said deeply, now keenly aware of why she had never shown him warmth. "even though she still loved them, she hated what they did to her. Why would she take me in and keep me as a constant reminder of that?"
"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore shook his head. "In the kitchen right down the hall two summers ago you heard the message that was addressed to her. Do you remember it well?"
"Remember my last, Petunia," Harry said automatically. "You sent it a--"
"She was not to forget the commitment she made by taking you off the doorstep," he reminded Harry. "But, she was also to remind herself of the very last line of my letter that I settled upon you the night Voldemort fell."
"What was it?" Harry asked, most perplexed.
"That if she turned you away not only would she be declaring that she did not indeed love Lily but that she also had never cared for James and that without love, even love lost, what would be the meaning to life?
The words hung heavy in the air, and Harry could distinctly hear Professor McGonagall and Tonks sniffling behind Dumbledore's towering shadow. He seemed to ignore their display of emotion, and Harry followed his gaze that was fixed intently on the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. Seconds later deep resounding booms filled the room, twelve to be exact.
"Harry if you will please stay here with the rest of the Order, I think I shall head outside and assure the Dursley's that their job has come to an end. I am sure that Petunia will be glad to know that she will no longer erupt in angry magenta boils if she does not allow you to stay here next summer," he said with an air of nonchalantness. If Harry had not become most accustomed to these wide swings of seriousness and lightness he might have agreed with those that thought that Albus Dumbledore was maddening in his old age.
"Great man Dumbledore," growled Alastor, his magical blue eye following the Headmaster outside while his normal eye remained fixed on Harry.
"You have a long night ahead of yeh boy."
"I do?" Harry asked blankly, looking around at the group, who were steadfastly solemn.
"Harry, Dumbledore's given us orders that we're to take you to Headquarters," Lupin said softly. "He wants to finish explaining...some things there."
It dawned on him that apart from Professor McGonagall, he was surrounded by the same guard that had guided him from Little Whinging to London before. But he knew that he wouldn't have to go...that he wouldn't be...
"Grimmauld Place, Harry," Lupin confirmed softly.
"But--"
He was cut off by the reappearance of Professor Dumbledore, his shadow filling the doorway. Dumbledore looked in turn to each of those seated in a circle around Harry.
"If you would please escort Harry to our meeting place, I will be there to greet you all when you arrive."
And, without another word, he apparated in front of their eyes.
CHAPTER ONE: REMEMBER MY LAST...
The stars glittered in the night sky and the inhabitants of number four Privet Drive slept soundly in their beds, all but one unaware that all around the house cloaked figures were apparating onto the well manicured lawn. A teenage boy, his black hair untidy, his glasses slightly askew stared out at them from his bedroom window on the second story, the fingers of his right hand wrapped firmly around his wand as the fingers on his left trailed his scar, now a horrible combination of deep red and black.
Harry Potter quickly ducked as the hidden faces turned in unison to stare directly up at his window. He couldn't help but wonder if they were friend or foe, but as of late had begun to dread the worst. However, down below very familiar voices confirmed otherwise.
"They'll kick him out straight away at midnight Albus," a woman's voice said concernedly from between the folds.
"If indeed they decide to kick Harry out," Albus templed his fingers together and they disappeared beneath his hood. "he will not leave without the truth."
"So we're here to escort..."
"Yes, Remus, we're taking him home."
They made their way up the walk in unison, each of the figures submerged in their own troubling thoughts about the situation looming ahead. As Dumbledore, the tallest figure in the group by far, made to raise the doorknocker, a sudden gasp from those in back made him turn and watch as a pair of headlights bathed the driveway and stoop in light.
The sound of the gasp drifted its way through the now partially cracked window and Harry rose up again, chancing a peek outside to see what was happening. The sight that met his eyes was most peculiar.
He watched as the wizards and witches, wands partially out and on the ready, studied Dudley Dursley sitting behind the wheel of a sports car, his present from Mummy and Daddy for another successful year of bullying at Smeltings. Beside him was his rather revolting girlfriend, Ravelta Dingleton who as Harry watched with disgust, was climbing into the back seat of the car with Dudley trying to squeeze his broad shoulders and rather large rump in behind her.
"What a revolting boy. Would it be okay if I just er," a witch with a high pitched voice twirled her wand around her fingers, the nails of which were unable to decide whether to stay a shocking red or a violent violet.
"Absolutely not Tonks," Minerva hissed. "it's for the best he didn't see us," she paused. "stupid git."
The group fell silent once more as Dumbledore cleared his throat. From upstairs Harry heard the quick succession of three raps before a pause. It took only two minutes for the house to spring to life.
"Oh dear, I bet Diddykins forgot his key again--" came the distinct voice of Aunt Petunia in the bedroom across the hall. Uncle Vernon gave a loud grunt beside her before chuckling.
"Ah, takes after me I always say. Could hardly get away from the girls I tell ya--"
Three more raps came from downstairs, and curiosity piqued, Harry inched his way to his locked door, raising the cat flap for a chance to hear what might be happening. Only the sight of the lower half of Aunt Petunia wrapped in a floral robe met his gaze, however barely a minute later he heard her screaming horribly at the top of her lungs.
Jumping to his feet, wand raised he unbolted his door, taking the steps two at a time and jumping down quickly to the landing. Hard footsteps behind him pounded in his ears as he heard Uncle Vernon wheezing and sputtering with anger.
"I SAY--"
But Harry did not stop to listen to Uncle Vernon's bellows, instead flinging himself into the hall and towards Aunt Petunia who lay smashed against the wall, the door once against closed, fighting for breath, her hand clutched over her heart.
"What happened?"
She opened her mouth but her response was muffled by the door swinging open once more, the group of cloaked figures Harry had seen from his room entering, murmuring amongst themselves. Getting into defensive position Harry braced himself for taking on the whole bunch.
"Lower your wand boy," a voice growled from beneath a cloak. "I told you two summers ago and I tell you now that--"
"Enough Alastor," the wizard in front said calmly. Harry's stomach lurched in pleasant surprise as the figure slid back the hood to reveal the flowing beard and wise, sparkling blue eyes that could belong to none other than Albus Dumbledore.
"An early Happy Birthday to you Harry," he said regally, bowing.
"You're," Harry lowered his wand. "all here for my birthday?"
"Ah, yes," Dumbledore said with a pause, his gaze meeting Petunia's who for a fleeting second looked as if she knew him.
"NOW SEE HERE I WILL NOT HAVE YOU PEOPLE--"
A soft hooting diminished Uncle Vernon's bellows as an owl swept over the group, dropping a wrapped brown package at Harry's feet.
"AND THESE BLASTED OWLS!--"
"It's from Hagrid!" Harry said happily, tucking the parcel under his arm. Dumbledore's smile widened.
"He was unable to come with us tonight," he paused as he saw the look on Harry's face. "He is still in one piece, minus a few burns here and there. Now, would you mind," his gaze once again returned to Petunia. "if we might make ourselves at home?"
"I VERY MUCH MIND--"
"Vernon," Aunt Petunia said slowly. "I think we should."
Her face was pale as she led them all into the living room, the plush armchairs and couches quickly occupied by witches and wizards whose faces became uncloaked almost simultaneously.
"Professor McGonagall...Professor Lupin!" Harry said, a lump pushing against his Adam's Apple. "I--"
"We don't have much time Harry," Dumbledore said and Harry turned and studied him looking oddly out of place in Aunt Petunia's rocker.
"DAMN RIGHT YOU DON'T, I'LL GIVE YOU FIVE MINUTES TO--"
"Oh, yes, dear me," Dumbledore's eyes swung up to meet Uncle Vernon's fiery beady eyed gaze. "I almost forgot to mention that we believe your son is waiting to speak to you out in the drive."
Curiosity smothering another of Uncle Vernon's rants, he walked back into the hall. Everyone remained silent and Harry grinned as Dumbledore give him a wink before more outbursts began to fire from outside in the driveway where Harry could only think (with a queasy stomach, mind) the sight that had greeted an already purple faced Uncle Vernon.
"Well I believe we are now ready to begin," Dumbledore said and Harry caught the immediate drop to absolutely seriousness in his voice. "Harry, tonight at midnight you will be seventeen."
"Yes, I know," Harry said with a nod, looking around at many members of the Order, none of whom were smiling at this bit of information.
"And tonight it is well within your rights to know the absolute truth."
"But--"
Dumbledore held up a steady hand, catching Harry with a mind full of thoughts and a mixture of what was to come. He had learned the hard way in the last few years that the truth was not always pleasant but always necessary to his continued struggle.
"However, if you are to know the whole story it must begin with your Aunt Petunia."
Harry had almost forgotten about Aunt Petunia who had flattened herself against the wall leading into the hall, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her mouth formed a thin, yet quivering line as the whole room seemed to spotlight on her.
"There's absolutely nothing to tell," she began simply.
"Ah, but there is Petunia," Dumbledore said quietly.
"After tonight my burden is done. Done I say!" Aunt Petunia spat, stopping only when she heard the sound of many fingertips reaching for wands.
"This is what Harry must know. He must know it ALL Petunia."
She marched out of the shadows and came to stand in the center of the room, turning herself so that she could look at no one but Harry. With unnerving calm she began to talk like someone who had just drank a whole flask of Vitaserum.
"Before you were even a thought in my sister's mind she and I were innocent girls living in a normal world without any of this," she spread her arms wide indicating the cloaks and various wands still on the defensive. "And that's when..."
"My mum received her letter," said Harry dully. He had already heard this story, had known it since the first day he knew he would be attending Hogwarts. "And me grandparents were thrilled."
"Yes Harry," Dumbledore said with a smile. "and WHY were they thrilled Petunia?"
He watched her lips quiver, and saw astonishingly bright tears well up into her cold gray eyes. Her next statement came out barely a croak, but the words were effective never-the-less.
"Because their favorite daughter was able to go to school with the son of their best friends," she made a face as if her words were becoming rapidly sour. "The Potters."
"My...mum knew dad before Hogwarts? But you said they met at scho--"
"Don't you think I was ashamed? Ashamed of the way my parents revered those people? How they worked to make Lily and James fall for each other? I was the only one to see them for who they really were. Absolute freaks, weirdos, disgusting u--"
"She's wasting our time Albus," Alastor growled, his slashed lips lifting so that his jagged teeth flashed with great dislike at Aunt Petunia.
"No, she isn't. She just hasn't gotten to the most important part yet," Dumbledore said quietly. "And I would hate to do it for her." Aunt Petunia turned to look at him once again, and they exchanged a look that only they understood.
"You," Harry paused, choosing his words carefully. "You knew my father then. You knew him well?"
It took her the better part of five minutes and a wide range of facial coloration ranging from her pale white to a very vomital green before she said something so quietly that he was unable to hear.
"He did not hear you Petunia," Dumbledore said quietly.
"I said," she whimpered, staring anywhere but into any of their faces. "I loved him."
The room went dead except for the sound of Tonks changing her eyes from large owl-like orbs to tiny mousey beads. It was the silence more than anything that made Harry uncomfortable.
"You loved my dad?"
"Petunia, dear, if you would please step outside a moment. I believe Vernon and your son are standing there wondering why they can't get back inside so if you would inform them both that we need to speak to Harry alone for a few moments..."
As if there was an underlying story in these words she nodded, heading to the door without complaint, a red flush creeping up her long neck. As soon as the front door closed behind her, murmurings began but before they could reach a level of high pitched fervor Dumbledore rose.
"Harry, it was a very peculiar and tense moment sixteen years ago that lead you to this house. I have informed you of the most pressing issues throughout the years but tonight I feel it is my duty while I still have breath left within me to piece it together and lay it before you so that you, Harry, can draw your own conclusions from its midst," he stated solemnly, his hands pressed together in front of him.
Harry sat transfused in his seat, his forehead knitted as his temples pounded. He still could not gather how his Aunt Petunia, who cursed the name of all that was magical, could have loved James Potter, born from a long line of generations of witches and wizards.
"I had," Dumbledore interrupted his thoughts and Harry met his wizened blue gaze. "the honor of meeting with your grandparents at this very house when Lily was accepted to Hogwarts. As Petunia said, she had observed their delight, but it took several hours indeed for them to realize the immense honor in having produced from a long line of Muggle heritage, a witch. " Dumbledore laughed, caught in his own Pensieve-like memory. "Quite like the meeting I had six years ago with Miss Granger's family I might add."
He caught Harry's eye and for a moment smiled softly.
"However, unlike my meeting with Miss Granger, there was a very curious young lady with a penchant for knowledge who, when she heard that Hogwarts was an honor, came out of hiding to ask if she could also attend, for this young lady adored her sister. You know, Harry, who this young lady was?"
"Aunt Petunia," Harry said automatically but he couldn't help but struggle in conjuring an image of a young idolizing Aunt Petunia.
"Right you are, but alas, I had to give, not only her, but her parents, the depressing news that she did not seem to possess any magical power and therefore would, withstanding an overnight transformation, not be receiving a letter the next year. It was after this that I'm afraid the animosity between Lily and Petunia began."
"But my father..."
"Your father, as I am sure you have gathered by now, was more than a bit of a jokester. Not only the pranks to be pulled on Severus turned cruel."
Harry felt a deep surge of guilt, the same guilt that plagued him when he remembered the things that his father was notorious for.
"I will say this only once Harry, and I mean every word, that your father loved your mother. But, at the same time he thought it a nice way to pass the summertime by assuring Petunia that he indeed fancied her more."
"What--"
"I do not know the exact details but I do know that what transpired that summer was so foul, so ugly that Petunia swore never to speak the names of Lily and James ever again, however," he paused, his eyes misting over. "even though she would not admit it, it has become clear to me that she still loved them both for Harry, she not only harbors the protection of the love of your mother via blood, but also that of your father, unrequited as it was."
"But Professor Dumbledore," Harry said deeply, now keenly aware of why she had never shown him warmth. "even though she still loved them, she hated what they did to her. Why would she take me in and keep me as a constant reminder of that?"
"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore shook his head. "In the kitchen right down the hall two summers ago you heard the message that was addressed to her. Do you remember it well?"
"Remember my last, Petunia," Harry said automatically. "You sent it a--"
"She was not to forget the commitment she made by taking you off the doorstep," he reminded Harry. "But, she was also to remind herself of the very last line of my letter that I settled upon you the night Voldemort fell."
"What was it?" Harry asked, most perplexed.
"That if she turned you away not only would she be declaring that she did not indeed love Lily but that she also had never cared for James and that without love, even love lost, what would be the meaning to life?
The words hung heavy in the air, and Harry could distinctly hear Professor McGonagall and Tonks sniffling behind Dumbledore's towering shadow. He seemed to ignore their display of emotion, and Harry followed his gaze that was fixed intently on the grandfather clock in the corner of the room. Seconds later deep resounding booms filled the room, twelve to be exact.
"Harry if you will please stay here with the rest of the Order, I think I shall head outside and assure the Dursley's that their job has come to an end. I am sure that Petunia will be glad to know that she will no longer erupt in angry magenta boils if she does not allow you to stay here next summer," he said with an air of nonchalantness. If Harry had not become most accustomed to these wide swings of seriousness and lightness he might have agreed with those that thought that Albus Dumbledore was maddening in his old age.
"Great man Dumbledore," growled Alastor, his magical blue eye following the Headmaster outside while his normal eye remained fixed on Harry.
"You have a long night ahead of yeh boy."
"I do?" Harry asked blankly, looking around at the group, who were steadfastly solemn.
"Harry, Dumbledore's given us orders that we're to take you to Headquarters," Lupin said softly. "He wants to finish explaining...some things there."
It dawned on him that apart from Professor McGonagall, he was surrounded by the same guard that had guided him from Little Whinging to London before. But he knew that he wouldn't have to go...that he wouldn't be...
"Grimmauld Place, Harry," Lupin confirmed softly.
"But--"
He was cut off by the reappearance of Professor Dumbledore, his shadow filling the doorway. Dumbledore looked in turn to each of those seated in a circle around Harry.
"If you would please escort Harry to our meeting place, I will be there to greet you all when you arrive."
And, without another word, he apparated in front of their eyes.