Disclaimer: I most certainly do NOT own Harry Potter and I do not make any profit off of this story

Title: Knotted Blood

This fic is in answer to wwwendy's challenge using an idea that would not leave my head once it popped up in there.

The challenge:
Harry discovers that his parents aren't Lilly AND James (one of them could still be his parents, but not both)
Severus Snape helps/assists him brew a potion to determine who his parents are (why Snape helps is up to you, he can assist willingly, could be ordered by AD, blackmailed by Harry, or any other reason you can come up with)
His parents have to be characters from Canon (no original characters, please), extra points (like the points matter) if his parents are one of the couples mentioned here. SS/LP, MM/AD, SS/JP, LP/TR, SS/wife

A.N.: The one change is that there is a bit of manipulation for when it comes to an original character versus canon character as one of his parents, but this will be no main character by any means. Also, I come close to achieving the extra points, but fall short somewhere. You'll see what I mean in the future.

Random fact: Hey, did you know that when looking up a suitable flower name to use in my story, I came across Privet as one of them, and Privet are actually small white flowers? Does that mean that as there is protection at #4 Privet drive, he has protection within or by the flower(s)? Or is this just a coincidence?


Within Little Whinging and inside the house of number four Privet Drive Harry could be found ridding the crawl space, that someone dared to call an attic, of dust and clutter. Believe it or not, it was a job he wanted to have. It helped to keep his mind off of other things, such as how he had lost his godfather just a few weeks prior. For the first few weeks of summer, he had done nothing but stay in Dudley's second bedroom and wallow in his misery. The Order's threats had prevented his uncle from assigning him any chores. The Order had let his relatives know that he was to stay inside the house the whole summer. As his aunt typically did all the indoor cleaning but the kitchen, it left Harry very little to do. When Petunia had finally realized that her nephew was falling deeper and deeper into depression and having nothing to do to channel his energies, she had asked...asked!...if he would like to clean the attic. She had told him blatently that it was doing him no good sitting in his room twenty-three out of the twenty-four hours a day and that it would give him something further to do. As an incentive, she also let him know that there were bound to be old photographs that were not found in the family albums in the living room, and that there were bound to be some of his mother in there. It had taken him three days to say yes in the scratchy, worn, voice that had not been used since the day he had returned to Privet Drive.

This was the second day he could be found up in the attic while Vernon was at work and Dudley was away for the week, vacationing with Piers' family in France. Yesterday was when he had cleaned up the dust that had built up so much he could hardly move around without coughing up the stuff. He had also gone thru a few boxes but had not yielded any results as they were Dudley's baby items and Vernon's childhood treasures and trophies. Harry had taken the time to label those boxes so he would not have to bother with them again.

Pulling out another box, Harry finally found what his aunt had spoken of. There were twelve different types of photo albums buried at the bottom of several pieces of Petunia's old clothing. This family really never did throw anything out. Opening the first album, he found himself staring at the faces of three smiling little girls. The middle girl, and oldest at eight, was most obviously his Aunt Petunia. It was not the woman he knew, though. This girl had golden blond hair piled at the top of her head in a messy knot while her pale skin was flushed in happiness. Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief and her long neck and thin body reminded him of a ballerina. The child Petunia once was had a beauty that her older self seemed to have lost. Still, it was the two identical twin girls that had Harry most in shock. They were six years old and both had high ponytails that held their bright red hair out of their cherubic faces. Both had emerald green eyes that shone with happiness as they held on to their elder sister. One of these twin girls, he knew was his mother. The other was her twin that he held no knowledge of. He choked back a sob. She was more family and he knew nothing of her, just as he had known nothing of Sirius until he overheard a single conversation.

o1o1o1o1o

"BOY! Do you want lunch or not?"

If Harry strained his ears, or was even paying attention to anything around him, he would have heard his aunt clumping up the metal ladder that led up to the attic. Instead, he just allowed himself to be found by his aunt while he had his arms wrapped around his legs as he sat staring at the single photograph that he had stumbled upon. He had made no change in his position for the past two hours. His tears had ceased an hour ago but the tracks were still visible.

"I did not send you up here just so you could mope in a change of scenery. Now, are you going to eat or not?"

"Who...is she?"

Petunia frowned at her nephew's barely audible whisper but looked to the album to see who she was referring to. It only made her tighten her lips and tighten the reign on her emotions. What was she supposed to say? The answer was so complicated that even Petunia couldn't quite give Harry a proper answer, so she did what she always did. "What have I told you about asking questions? Don't!" Harshly, she grabbed his arm and pulled him up so he was standing. She barely took notice of how thin the arm she had taken hold of was, but it still did register, along with how he swayed when he stood.

"Come on. It won't do for you not to eat and have your freaky friends blaming me for it. Downstairs, now!"

Ten minutes later found both Harry and Petunia sitting at the kitchen table. While she ate, Harry picked at his peanut butter sandwich. He never felt like eating anymore.

"Her name was Dahlia. She's dead."

Startled, Harry looked up at his aunt. His expression begged for more, but knew his aunt would only give him information she was willing to give and no more. Begging never helped in the past and it would not help now.

Petunia took in a deep sigh. "She was your mother's twin sister, but she never went to that school of yours. She didn't want to. She had been in a car accident a few months prior to her letter and didn't want to leave home. That accident left heavy injuries, one of them leading to her unable to have any children. She stayed home because she was still dealing with the consequences of the accident. She and I...were close. She died when I was six months pregnant with Dudley."

"Oh."

The two of them fell silent. Petunia was unwilling to say any more on the matter and Harry couldn't force himself out of his depression caused silence to even attempt to ask anymore.

o1o1o1o1o

Two more weeks crawled by and some had changed at Privet Drive. The attic was now fully clean and the photo albums were now in Petunia's possession, along with another box. Dudley was back from his vacation and was more obnoxious than ever, and surprisingly looking as though he lost a few pounds. Apparently he had been at the beginning of the summer, but Harry had not taken much notice. Dudley's school had him on a strict regimen and he had lost well over a hundred pounds. The weight loss was not too noticeable, as he was so heavy, but Dudley had lost one of his five chins and easily fit into the Smeltings large uniform. Vernon was a bit happier as well. He had gotten a healthy pay raise. Vernon was still riding on the small euphoria that came with the raise. Petunia, on the other hand, had become more contemplative over the past two weeks and had actually stopped calling Dudley any pet names, much to the happiness of Dudley. The large boy was thrilled to not be called Duddikins or Dudders, and to the eternal surprise of the household, had actually thanked her for stopping with the pet names the other day, even if it wasn't actually heartfelt, but merely out of sheer relief.

Changes came for Harry, as well. For example, today was his sixteenth birthday. Instead of receiving any gifts or letters from his friends, the night skies had nothing to deliver to him. The headmaster had ceased any and all owl activity going to and from his house. Hedwig was now being housed at Hogwarts, much to his silent and written protests, and his letters to the Order was now one of Mrs. Figg's cats coming to collect a letter at the back door of the Dursley household every three days. His silence had become more pronounced, though his aunt practically forced the pleasantries from his mouth, thus speaking more. He had taken on the full kitchen chores once again, along with cleaning the two bathrooms in the house. He started eating more, though, under the watchful eye of his aunt, who had realized that she was not going to allow him to starve himself away to nothing just because he was depressed. It was the most concern she had shown for him in the whole time he had lived here.

Petunia knocked on her nephew's door, and when she did not receive an answer, she opened the door to find him still curled up in bed. Part of her desired to grab one of her frying pans and hit him upside the head with it, just to snap him out of his depression, but a heavy part of her resisted against such actions. She knew the boy was depressed, though she didn't know what over, except that he had come home depressed. The most life she had seen from him was when she had first spoken of Dahlia to him. There was such a heavy part of her that wanted to keep her sister all to herself, but she also knew that he held more claim to Dahlia than she did. Despite the fact that she heavily resented Lily, her thoughts of Dahlia were never tarnished in any manner except for those heavily linked with Lily.

Heaving a sigh, she sat on the boy's bed, the package that she brought with her was clutched in her lap. Reaching out, she pushed the his hair out of his face. Petunia could not help but think of how much a pity it was that the boy had to carry James Potter's face. The man wasn't even his real father, not that she knew who was. Despite her heavy resentment toward him, she could not help but want to be near him now. For so long, she had shut out the voice in her head that sounded so much like her favorite sister in favor of the one that sounded like her husband, but in the past two weeks, Dahlia's voice rang clear through her mind. She had done a great injustice toward the boy, especially in the manner that she raised him. It was too late to change the past, though. She could change some things, though, especially by letting go of a few secrets.

She was too cowardly to actually speak the secrets aloud to him, but it didn't prevent her from writing them. Enclosed on top of the package was a letter enclosed in a plain white envelope. No one could ever say she never gave anything to the boy. Quickly, she left the room, allowing the package to remain on the bed beside him. After today, all the secrets she kept from the boy would be set free. She just wondered when she would hear his gut wrenching cries at the injustices of it all.


No, this will not be one of those stories where Harry refuses to speak to everyone, only at Privet Drive, and that's going away fast. No, there are no planned couples. No, I won't tell you who his parents are. I hope you like it.