Harry Potter and the Sealed Gateway
Chapter Two: Aunt Petunia's Secret
Harry Potter awoke two weeks after he left Hogwarts, and he had come to Privet Drive without fully recovering from the death of his godfather, Sirius Black. He was sent the Daily Prophet, which he found was slightly more trustworthy than during the previous year when it had nearly destroyed his reputation. His friends, Ron and Hermione, had sent him many letters, but it seemed that everything that happened had been in the Daily Prophet. Two days after he left Hogwarts, Cornelius Fudge resigned as Minister of Magic. The Wizengamot, by which Harry had been narrowly saved from expulsion, unanimously had put Dumbledore in charge of the Ministry until a suitable replacement could be found. Today's paper had already been delivered when he woke up. The headline read:
CHAOS IN DIURN ALLEY
10 Killed by Captured Death Eaters
By R. Skeeter
Diurn Alley, Liverpool. 10 Wizards were killed today at the Pogrebin Inn at Diurn Alley. At 6:00 pm yesterday, Death Eaters Antonin Dolohov and Rabastan Lestrange, who escaped from Azkaban last Friday, entered the Inn and killed the barkeeper, who has been identified as Aberforth Dumbledore, brother of the Interim Minister of Magic, before using a Novillius Curse to destroy the entire building. Dead include: Pyramus Hollythorn and and his two daughters, all three worked in the nearby bookstore, former headmaster of Durmstrang Wizarding Academy Igor Karkaroff, Albertus Tennydine, Ludovic Bagman (former Quidditch beater and Head of the Dept. of Magical Games, and sports), and three bodies burnt beyond recognition, believed to be visiting from Egypt. The interim minister has this to say:
"Lord Voldemort has indeed begun to strike with a full force. It is vital for each and every wizard and witch in this country to take all precautions against his attacks, and I warn all of the witches and wizards of this country to stay indoors at night. I can assure you that only one of the victims was the specified target, but Lord Voldemort has never bothered with people who get in his way."
Members of the Order of the Phoenix, an anti-Dark movement, arrived on the scene quickly enough for former Auror Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody to kill Rabastan Lestrange and for Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt to apprehend them. 16 Gobins were also killed by the blast.
Harry stared at the paper in utter disbelief. He knew that the Death Eaters had all escaped from Azkaban before Professor Dumbledore dismissed the dementors, but this was a very sudden surge of violence; Voldemort had until now committed seemingly random murders all across the country. Harry was one of the only people to know exactly who the intended target was: Igor Karkaroff. Harry had witnessed Voldemort threaten to kill him during Voldemort's rebirthing. Harry stuffed the Daily Prophet into his pocket and took out several empty scrolls and began to write letters to Hermione and Ron, when he heard his Uncle Vernon yelling:
"Come and get your breakfast, boy!"
He put his scrolls down and hurried downstairs. Any food that he could get would be greatly appreciated. Harry sat in silence, pondering the murders, as Aunt Petunia served his uncle and cousin a grapefruit and cereal; him, a piece of toast without butter and an orange. As she refilled Uncle Vernon's coffee mug, he grunted, "thanks." But when Aunt Petunia offered Dudley a second grapefruit, he said nothing. Harry had gathered that since he last left the Dursleys, Dudley had become increasingly detached from his mother. If he didn't know better, he would have supposed that Dudley was afraid of his mother. But Uncle Vernon's explanation for the behavior seemed much more likely. "You mustn't call him Diddy Duddykins any more, Petunia…I'll wager one of Dud's little friends heard you call him that and has been teasing him. It'll pass soon enough."
"Could I have a grapefruit?" Harry asked, knowing that she would either yell at him, or take away his remaining food. But he was very hungry indeed, and he thought that it would be better to take a risk than to wait for his friends' owls to arrive with food. After two dementors attacked Dudley the last summer, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia seemed to decided that starving Harry would force him to move out of the house.
"Why you ungrateful little worm. We've given you food on your plate and the clothes on your back, but nothing's good enough for you," his uncle snarled, "We've made sacrifices to keep you in this household, it's about time you became ready to make some for us."
Harry snorted. Other than dyeing some old clothes gray, Harry could think of no sacrifices that the Dursleys had made for him at all.
"What was that, boy?" his Uncle Vernon. But he was interrupted by Dudley.
"Dad, we're five minutes late already." Of course, thought Harry, the appointment with the car dealer. Dudley had recently reached the driving age, and, as a present, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had offered to buy him any car he wanted. Dudley had set his heart on a loud, big-wheeled Jeep.
"Right then, Dudders. We'll leave immediately…and you," he growled, turning to Harry, "I'll get to you later. Petunia, there's to be no lunch or television for the likes of him."
"Of course not," said Aunt Petunia, her lips curled, "as if he would be grateful for food."
"DAD! LET'S GO!" And he and Uncle Vernon left the kitchen and went out the front door. Aunt Petunia stared out the kitchen window at them as they got into the car and drove off. Once, they were out of sight, she turned to look at him, with her lips curled as tight as drums. Harry had never seen her so upset. Expecting a punishment, he got up and began to head for his room. But as he did, Aunt Petunia spoke.
"Well, do you want a decent breakfast, then?" Harry froze. He had never, ever, in all his years at Privet Drive, been asked if he wanted anything by either his aunt or his uncle, of their own free will. He looked at his Aunt. Her face was red, her lips were curling. She looked as if she were about to explode in a number of seconds. Harry wondered if he had accidentally inflicted magic upon her as he once did on his Aunt Marge, but then realized that he hadn't been angry at all. Wait, thought Harry, that isn't an angry face she has. He forced himself to speak.
"Eh…what?"
"Some breakfast," his Aunt Petunia said, "Would you like s-s-some br-breakfa-a-ast…" Aunt Petunia's lips uncurled as she said this, and she had begun to weep openly. "I-I'll f-fix you some bacon and eggs, if you'd l-l-like."
"Sure…thank you…" Harry was utterly lost for words. He was silent as Aunt Petunia, fumbling around the kitchen and dropping all sorts of things, began to cooking his breakfast on the stove. "Eh…Aunt Petunia…" Harry couldn't remember the last time he had called her Aunt Petunia. "Are you…are you…okay?"
Aunt Petunia stood over the griddle with a spatula in her hand and continued to weep for a long while. Finally, as she scooped his breakfast onto his plate, she regained her composure. For the second time in his life, Harry appreciated that his aunt was his mother's sister.
"Eat it, then."
"Thank you…" said Harry, still staring at his Aunt Petunia, who was now wiping her eyes on her apron, and breathing very deeply. Harry picked up his fork and began to eat. Aunt Petunia stared at the wall with a strange, contemplative look in her eyes, occasionally glancing at Harry. Harry continued to eat his meal in silence. What in the world was going on? Aunt Petunia…had never shown any emotion but anger and impatience toward Harry. Questions rattled around in his brain until he ate his last bite and set his fork on his plate. He got up to take his dishes and clean them.
"Sit down, please, Harry."
He stared at Aunt Petunia for awhile. Something very strange indeed was going on. She had never used the word please when talking to Harry. Come to think of it, she had never called him Harry before, just "boy" and "you." Harry sat down.
"Harry, I…I have something I need to tell you." What does she need to tell me, Harry thought. What does she know?
"I was 5-years-old when your mother got accepted into Hogwarts." Harry's brain was racing. Aunt Petunia had never readily discussed his mother; she had always maintained that she had simply "gotten herself blown up." It was only last summer that she gave any indication of knowledge about the Wizarding World. Had she just referred to his school by its name?
"Neither of my--your grandparents were…were…they weren't…" Aunt Pentunia swallowed, "wizards. They were very suspicious at first, but when that woman, a professor at your school, came to our house…they became extremely pleased that….Lily, was, indeed a…witch."
Harry was now hanging on to Aunt Petunia's every word. He had never been told much about his mother, other than that he had her eyes, and it had only now occurred to him that Aunt Petunia could tell him more about his mother than almost anyone in the wizarding world.
"Lily was going to enter her seventh year when I was eleven. I guess…that I was expecting it to come…"
Harry was looking at his Aunt Petunia more intently than he had ever looked at her before. Was she about to say what he thought she was going to? She swallowed hard and continued.
She said decisively, "My letter came that summer. I went with Lily to get a wand…I was so happy to be a witch, Harry, and Lily was happy for me too. But my parents weren't. You see, Lily--Lily had t-told them about…about…about You-Know-Who. They didn't want me to go…and…I became very jealous of your mother…"
Harry's mind needed time to absorb the information he had heard, but Aunt Petunia continued and his attention did not divert from the secrets she was revealing.
"But Lily convinced them to let me go…I…and I went to my first year at Hogwarts the year she entered her last…"
Harry couldn't stand it any longer. "You're a…a WITCH?!"
"Please, Harry, listen. I was terrible at school. I got a few basic spells, but I was failing my classes horribly and…well, then Lily began to date James." She then, for the first time in Harry's life, smiled at him. "You look just like him, you know."
Harry had heard this before, but coming from his aunt who normally referred to his father as "that awful boy," it was quite something.
"But…"
"Harry, please let me finish. James' family were very prominent wizards…I don't know if you knew that…but they invited Lily, myself, and our parents over for dinner towards the end of the term, just after the engagement…" Tears were now streaming down Aunt Petunia's cheeks. Harry was very much stupefied by this information. He couldn't believe his own ears. He had learned more about his parents than he had ever learned before.
"That horrible night…we arrived at the Potters…and…and…while your parents and I sat outside of the kitchen and talked…" Aunt Petunia was openly weeping now. "While we talked…we heard screaming and s-saw flashes of green light from the kitchen…M-Mrs. P-potter came out the door, yelling for us to run, a-and….and then she…she got hit by the spell, and…d-d-died. Lily and James picked me up and ran just as h-h-he-who-mmmust-n-not…b-b-be-n-named…c-came through the d-door. We just narrowly escaped him…but m-my parents…d-didn't." Aunt Petunia flung her apron over her eyes and began to weep loudly.
Millions of thoughts scrambled around his mind like a sandstorm. His aunt had gone to Hogwarts, all of his grandparents were killed by Lord Voldemort…but why hadn't someone told him any of this? Aunt Petunia was now breathing irregularly, but she had at least stopped weeping.
"Then I l-left Hogwarts for good, I began to hate my sister and blamed our parents death on her and her world. I spent the rest of my l-life hating. I d-destroyed all of my wizarding th-things and moved in with Vernon's sister Marge, who had been a friend of the family."
She seemed to realize something, because her eyes flickered back into complete acuteness.
"of course..V-Vernon doesn't know, Harry. You m-mustn't tell him…"
"I won't," Harry said sincerely.
Aunt Petunia smiled, and then her face became very dark. "But the reason I'm telling you this Harry is because…I need you to do something for me." Harry felt that whatever it was, he would do it. He felt eternally grateful for any information about the lives of his parents.
"Anything," he said.
Aunt Petunia smiled again, before reverting to a frightened face. "I-I need you to cast a memory-modifier on me."
Harry's brain reeled. He had not expected her to ask him to do magic under her roof, let alone upon herself. He must have looked puzzled, for Aunt Petunia spoke again.
"Let me explain. I told you I destroyed all of my wizarding things. Th-that isn't exactly true." And to Harry's enormous surprise, Aunt Petunia removed something long and slender from her apron pocket.
"That's a wand!"
"Yes. Last year, the day before…before…before Dudley was attacked…Vernon was at work…I was in my room…and…I thought it wouldn't hurt…I was practicing magic up in my room. Just simple spells. Dumbledore had alerted me that you-know-who might come back in his letter. So I thought…Harry, I was wrong…" Aunt Petunia's lip started to tremble. "Dudley saw me."
"Is that why he won't talk--"
"Y-yes. I think those things made him see me like a witch. Will you do it for me? I want to forget that I was ever a…witch…for Dudley 's sake."
Harry wanted to do something in return for his aunt's kindness, but he didn't think that he could bear to lose whatever other information she knew. So he cleared his throat and said, "I would, but we haven't learned those yet, and even if we did…we can't use magic outside school."
Aunt Petunia frowned. "You're sure?"
Harry nodded. Aunt Petunia sighed. "Well, please, take my wand away then." She extended her wand for him to take. He grabbed it uncertainly and put it in his pocket. As he did, the Daily Prophet fell out of his pocket.
"Wh-what is that?"
"It's the wizarding newspaper."
"Bloody hell!" She said, as she read the front page, "then he really is back…"
But just then, there was a knock on the door.
Chapter Two: Aunt Petunia's Secret
Harry Potter awoke two weeks after he left Hogwarts, and he had come to Privet Drive without fully recovering from the death of his godfather, Sirius Black. He was sent the Daily Prophet, which he found was slightly more trustworthy than during the previous year when it had nearly destroyed his reputation. His friends, Ron and Hermione, had sent him many letters, but it seemed that everything that happened had been in the Daily Prophet. Two days after he left Hogwarts, Cornelius Fudge resigned as Minister of Magic. The Wizengamot, by which Harry had been narrowly saved from expulsion, unanimously had put Dumbledore in charge of the Ministry until a suitable replacement could be found. Today's paper had already been delivered when he woke up. The headline read:
CHAOS IN DIURN ALLEY
10 Killed by Captured Death Eaters
By R. Skeeter
Diurn Alley, Liverpool. 10 Wizards were killed today at the Pogrebin Inn at Diurn Alley. At 6:00 pm yesterday, Death Eaters Antonin Dolohov and Rabastan Lestrange, who escaped from Azkaban last Friday, entered the Inn and killed the barkeeper, who has been identified as Aberforth Dumbledore, brother of the Interim Minister of Magic, before using a Novillius Curse to destroy the entire building. Dead include: Pyramus Hollythorn and and his two daughters, all three worked in the nearby bookstore, former headmaster of Durmstrang Wizarding Academy Igor Karkaroff, Albertus Tennydine, Ludovic Bagman (former Quidditch beater and Head of the Dept. of Magical Games, and sports), and three bodies burnt beyond recognition, believed to be visiting from Egypt. The interim minister has this to say:
"Lord Voldemort has indeed begun to strike with a full force. It is vital for each and every wizard and witch in this country to take all precautions against his attacks, and I warn all of the witches and wizards of this country to stay indoors at night. I can assure you that only one of the victims was the specified target, but Lord Voldemort has never bothered with people who get in his way."
Members of the Order of the Phoenix, an anti-Dark movement, arrived on the scene quickly enough for former Auror Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody to kill Rabastan Lestrange and for Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt to apprehend them. 16 Gobins were also killed by the blast.
Harry stared at the paper in utter disbelief. He knew that the Death Eaters had all escaped from Azkaban before Professor Dumbledore dismissed the dementors, but this was a very sudden surge of violence; Voldemort had until now committed seemingly random murders all across the country. Harry was one of the only people to know exactly who the intended target was: Igor Karkaroff. Harry had witnessed Voldemort threaten to kill him during Voldemort's rebirthing. Harry stuffed the Daily Prophet into his pocket and took out several empty scrolls and began to write letters to Hermione and Ron, when he heard his Uncle Vernon yelling:
"Come and get your breakfast, boy!"
He put his scrolls down and hurried downstairs. Any food that he could get would be greatly appreciated. Harry sat in silence, pondering the murders, as Aunt Petunia served his uncle and cousin a grapefruit and cereal; him, a piece of toast without butter and an orange. As she refilled Uncle Vernon's coffee mug, he grunted, "thanks." But when Aunt Petunia offered Dudley a second grapefruit, he said nothing. Harry had gathered that since he last left the Dursleys, Dudley had become increasingly detached from his mother. If he didn't know better, he would have supposed that Dudley was afraid of his mother. But Uncle Vernon's explanation for the behavior seemed much more likely. "You mustn't call him Diddy Duddykins any more, Petunia…I'll wager one of Dud's little friends heard you call him that and has been teasing him. It'll pass soon enough."
"Could I have a grapefruit?" Harry asked, knowing that she would either yell at him, or take away his remaining food. But he was very hungry indeed, and he thought that it would be better to take a risk than to wait for his friends' owls to arrive with food. After two dementors attacked Dudley the last summer, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia seemed to decided that starving Harry would force him to move out of the house.
"Why you ungrateful little worm. We've given you food on your plate and the clothes on your back, but nothing's good enough for you," his uncle snarled, "We've made sacrifices to keep you in this household, it's about time you became ready to make some for us."
Harry snorted. Other than dyeing some old clothes gray, Harry could think of no sacrifices that the Dursleys had made for him at all.
"What was that, boy?" his Uncle Vernon. But he was interrupted by Dudley.
"Dad, we're five minutes late already." Of course, thought Harry, the appointment with the car dealer. Dudley had recently reached the driving age, and, as a present, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had offered to buy him any car he wanted. Dudley had set his heart on a loud, big-wheeled Jeep.
"Right then, Dudders. We'll leave immediately…and you," he growled, turning to Harry, "I'll get to you later. Petunia, there's to be no lunch or television for the likes of him."
"Of course not," said Aunt Petunia, her lips curled, "as if he would be grateful for food."
"DAD! LET'S GO!" And he and Uncle Vernon left the kitchen and went out the front door. Aunt Petunia stared out the kitchen window at them as they got into the car and drove off. Once, they were out of sight, she turned to look at him, with her lips curled as tight as drums. Harry had never seen her so upset. Expecting a punishment, he got up and began to head for his room. But as he did, Aunt Petunia spoke.
"Well, do you want a decent breakfast, then?" Harry froze. He had never, ever, in all his years at Privet Drive, been asked if he wanted anything by either his aunt or his uncle, of their own free will. He looked at his Aunt. Her face was red, her lips were curling. She looked as if she were about to explode in a number of seconds. Harry wondered if he had accidentally inflicted magic upon her as he once did on his Aunt Marge, but then realized that he hadn't been angry at all. Wait, thought Harry, that isn't an angry face she has. He forced himself to speak.
"Eh…what?"
"Some breakfast," his Aunt Petunia said, "Would you like s-s-some br-breakfa-a-ast…" Aunt Petunia's lips uncurled as she said this, and she had begun to weep openly. "I-I'll f-fix you some bacon and eggs, if you'd l-l-like."
"Sure…thank you…" Harry was utterly lost for words. He was silent as Aunt Petunia, fumbling around the kitchen and dropping all sorts of things, began to cooking his breakfast on the stove. "Eh…Aunt Petunia…" Harry couldn't remember the last time he had called her Aunt Petunia. "Are you…are you…okay?"
Aunt Petunia stood over the griddle with a spatula in her hand and continued to weep for a long while. Finally, as she scooped his breakfast onto his plate, she regained her composure. For the second time in his life, Harry appreciated that his aunt was his mother's sister.
"Eat it, then."
"Thank you…" said Harry, still staring at his Aunt Petunia, who was now wiping her eyes on her apron, and breathing very deeply. Harry picked up his fork and began to eat. Aunt Petunia stared at the wall with a strange, contemplative look in her eyes, occasionally glancing at Harry. Harry continued to eat his meal in silence. What in the world was going on? Aunt Petunia…had never shown any emotion but anger and impatience toward Harry. Questions rattled around in his brain until he ate his last bite and set his fork on his plate. He got up to take his dishes and clean them.
"Sit down, please, Harry."
He stared at Aunt Petunia for awhile. Something very strange indeed was going on. She had never used the word please when talking to Harry. Come to think of it, she had never called him Harry before, just "boy" and "you." Harry sat down.
"Harry, I…I have something I need to tell you." What does she need to tell me, Harry thought. What does she know?
"I was 5-years-old when your mother got accepted into Hogwarts." Harry's brain was racing. Aunt Petunia had never readily discussed his mother; she had always maintained that she had simply "gotten herself blown up." It was only last summer that she gave any indication of knowledge about the Wizarding World. Had she just referred to his school by its name?
"Neither of my--your grandparents were…were…they weren't…" Aunt Pentunia swallowed, "wizards. They were very suspicious at first, but when that woman, a professor at your school, came to our house…they became extremely pleased that….Lily, was, indeed a…witch."
Harry was now hanging on to Aunt Petunia's every word. He had never been told much about his mother, other than that he had her eyes, and it had only now occurred to him that Aunt Petunia could tell him more about his mother than almost anyone in the wizarding world.
"Lily was going to enter her seventh year when I was eleven. I guess…that I was expecting it to come…"
Harry was looking at his Aunt Petunia more intently than he had ever looked at her before. Was she about to say what he thought she was going to? She swallowed hard and continued.
She said decisively, "My letter came that summer. I went with Lily to get a wand…I was so happy to be a witch, Harry, and Lily was happy for me too. But my parents weren't. You see, Lily--Lily had t-told them about…about…about You-Know-Who. They didn't want me to go…and…I became very jealous of your mother…"
Harry's mind needed time to absorb the information he had heard, but Aunt Petunia continued and his attention did not divert from the secrets she was revealing.
"But Lily convinced them to let me go…I…and I went to my first year at Hogwarts the year she entered her last…"
Harry couldn't stand it any longer. "You're a…a WITCH?!"
"Please, Harry, listen. I was terrible at school. I got a few basic spells, but I was failing my classes horribly and…well, then Lily began to date James." She then, for the first time in Harry's life, smiled at him. "You look just like him, you know."
Harry had heard this before, but coming from his aunt who normally referred to his father as "that awful boy," it was quite something.
"But…"
"Harry, please let me finish. James' family were very prominent wizards…I don't know if you knew that…but they invited Lily, myself, and our parents over for dinner towards the end of the term, just after the engagement…" Tears were now streaming down Aunt Petunia's cheeks. Harry was very much stupefied by this information. He couldn't believe his own ears. He had learned more about his parents than he had ever learned before.
"That horrible night…we arrived at the Potters…and…and…while your parents and I sat outside of the kitchen and talked…" Aunt Petunia was openly weeping now. "While we talked…we heard screaming and s-saw flashes of green light from the kitchen…M-Mrs. P-potter came out the door, yelling for us to run, a-and….and then she…she got hit by the spell, and…d-d-died. Lily and James picked me up and ran just as h-h-he-who-mmmust-n-not…b-b-be-n-named…c-came through the d-door. We just narrowly escaped him…but m-my parents…d-didn't." Aunt Petunia flung her apron over her eyes and began to weep loudly.
Millions of thoughts scrambled around his mind like a sandstorm. His aunt had gone to Hogwarts, all of his grandparents were killed by Lord Voldemort…but why hadn't someone told him any of this? Aunt Petunia was now breathing irregularly, but she had at least stopped weeping.
"Then I l-left Hogwarts for good, I began to hate my sister and blamed our parents death on her and her world. I spent the rest of my l-life hating. I d-destroyed all of my wizarding th-things and moved in with Vernon's sister Marge, who had been a friend of the family."
She seemed to realize something, because her eyes flickered back into complete acuteness.
"of course..V-Vernon doesn't know, Harry. You m-mustn't tell him…"
"I won't," Harry said sincerely.
Aunt Petunia smiled, and then her face became very dark. "But the reason I'm telling you this Harry is because…I need you to do something for me." Harry felt that whatever it was, he would do it. He felt eternally grateful for any information about the lives of his parents.
"Anything," he said.
Aunt Petunia smiled again, before reverting to a frightened face. "I-I need you to cast a memory-modifier on me."
Harry's brain reeled. He had not expected her to ask him to do magic under her roof, let alone upon herself. He must have looked puzzled, for Aunt Petunia spoke again.
"Let me explain. I told you I destroyed all of my wizarding things. Th-that isn't exactly true." And to Harry's enormous surprise, Aunt Petunia removed something long and slender from her apron pocket.
"That's a wand!"
"Yes. Last year, the day before…before…before Dudley was attacked…Vernon was at work…I was in my room…and…I thought it wouldn't hurt…I was practicing magic up in my room. Just simple spells. Dumbledore had alerted me that you-know-who might come back in his letter. So I thought…Harry, I was wrong…" Aunt Petunia's lip started to tremble. "Dudley saw me."
"Is that why he won't talk--"
"Y-yes. I think those things made him see me like a witch. Will you do it for me? I want to forget that I was ever a…witch…for Dudley 's sake."
Harry wanted to do something in return for his aunt's kindness, but he didn't think that he could bear to lose whatever other information she knew. So he cleared his throat and said, "I would, but we haven't learned those yet, and even if we did…we can't use magic outside school."
Aunt Petunia frowned. "You're sure?"
Harry nodded. Aunt Petunia sighed. "Well, please, take my wand away then." She extended her wand for him to take. He grabbed it uncertainly and put it in his pocket. As he did, the Daily Prophet fell out of his pocket.
"Wh-what is that?"
"It's the wizarding newspaper."
"Bloody hell!" She said, as she read the front page, "then he really is back…"
But just then, there was a knock on the door.