Disclaimer: The characters and back story are both J.K. Rowling's. I simply have an overactive imagination.
Chapter One
The Question
Harry, Ron, and Hermione took one last look at Hogwarts. Harry felt sad, angry, and strangely exhilarated all at the same time. He was finally going to go on the offensive and be well on the way to defeating Voldemort.
He also had a knot of fear in the pit of his stomach.
The trio didn't have their trunks with them, only knapsacks with essentials such as clean underthings, a self-refilling water bottle for each, and any personal items they didn't want to leave behind. Harry had his Invisiblity cloak and the photo album of his mum and dad that Hagrid had given him his first year, some chocolate and a map of Godrics Hollow.
He turned to his best mates and broke the silence that had been between them for the past several minutes, "Ready to see Number Four, Privet Drive?" he asked as though it was the last thing he wanted to do.
Ron smiled mischievously, "Absolutely! My pockets are full of Canary Creams for your cousin Dudley," he said and punctuated his statement with a wriggle of his eyebrows. Both were firmly in place. Madam Pomfrey had fixed him with no problem after his incident at his Apparition exam. Harry laughed and Hermione pushed Ron on the arm and pretended to be upset, but her smile gave her away. The tips of Ron's ears had gone scarlet at her smile and touch, but Harry turned to walk toward Hogsmeade as if nothing had happened, though a knowing smile played at his lips.
They were going to take Floo powder to the Leaky Cauldron from the Three Broomsticks. The Imperius Curse had been removed from Rosmerta and she had been so grieved by what she had been made to do that she had decided to take some time to collect her thoughts. She left her sister, Eileen, to run the Three Broomsticks for her for a while. The trio would take Muggle transportation to the Dursleys'.
"I don't see why we don't just Apparate there," Ron asked. Hermione replied as if she had answered this question many times before, "Because, Ron, Harry doesn't have his license yet and neither do you for that matter." Ron opened his mouth to say something else, but Hermione held up her hand and said, "And we're not taking the Hogwarts' Express because…well…you know why…" and her voice trailed off and she dropped her hand. Harry knew why. Taking the school train would be way too normal. Nothing after Dumbledore's death had seemed normal. To take the edge off this thought, Harry piped in, "I hate Apparating anyway. It's uncomfortable. Also, I would sort of like some time to sort out what I'm going to say to my aunt."
Harry had come to the conclusion that his Aunt Petunia knew something that would be important to him. He wanted to get it out of her so he would never have to go back there again. He knew that the Dursleys would not be pleased to see him, especially accompanied by another wizard and a witch, but he planned to placate them with the news that this would be his last visit. He also hoped that that news would keep them from being too terribly horrible to Ron and Hermione. He had told his friends that they didn't have to come with him to the Dursleys, but they had insisted on it. They really are the best mates anyone could ever ask for, Harry thought.
A half hour later, Harry led Ron and Hermione to the Dursleys' house. It was mid-afternoon in June, but it was misty and strangely cold. None of them had quite grown used to this phenomenon caused by the Dementors. Neither of his friends were surprised that Harry rang the bell to the place he was supposed to be able to call home. He had never felt all that comfortable just walking into the Durleys' house.
"Who is it?" called a voice that still sent shivers down Harry's spine. Harry hesitated to answer; he almost wanted to just forget the protection and leave. It would only last until his birthday anyway, but Dumbledore had created that protection, so he answered. "It's me. Harry. Your nephew. I have a couple of friends with me. We'll only stay a night," he finished as Aunt Petunia opened the door. Harry had only wanted to stay just long enough to talk to his aunt and leave, but Hermione had thought that since he had to be able to call the place home for the spell to work, he should at least stay one night in his old bed. Harry had painfully agreed. He hated this place. He hated them.
"Well, I guess you're lucky that I'm feeling a bit lonely this week, Harry," snipped Petunia. "Vernon is away on business, he is such a clever man, and Dudley has gone to London early. That is where he will be attending university, at Vernon's alma mater, Base School for the Ordinary…" Harry tuned the rest of her speech out until she screeched, "Well, come in, come in! Before the neighbors notice me talking to you!" as if it were their fault that she had forgotten manners and left them on the stoop.
Harry could hear Ron whisper to Hermione, "Damn! His aunt doesn't look like the type to try something like a Canary Cream, especially if it's just lying around. I wanted to have a little fun with tubby Dudley." "Ron!" hissed Hermione, "Don't call him tubby! I'm sure he's just big boned!" Harry turned around and said, "No, actually he is quite large, and it's not his bones that's for sure." Ron turned to Hermione and quipped, "See!" and she muttered something a lot like, "Boys."
Harry was very glad they had insisted on coming with him, not only for this, but to find the horcruxes too. And Godrics Hollow. Harry pushed that thought away for now. Ron had seemed to take it upon himself to keep their spirits up with his jokes, though Harry knew it was mostly bravado. He was thankful for it anyway. Hermione had been trying to keep her bossiness under control, though she wasn't as bad anyway as she had been when they were younger. She had loosened up over the years.
Aunt Petunia led them into the sitting room and went into the kitchen to get the tea and biscuits. Harry thought this was rather unusually kind of her and then the clock chimed the time and he realized that it was tea time anyway. She was just being polite, which was still unusual. He guessed that she didn't find Hermione and Ron as threatening as she had Mr. Weasley or Dumbledore. She came back in and sat the tea tray down on the table and poured the tea. Harry noticed that his aunt looked skinnier than usual and her skin had turned to a light shade of gray. His aunt had never been beautiful by any means, but she had shared genes with his mum, so she hadn't been ugly either, just birdlike. Now she looked like a baby chick that had lost some feathers. Her clothes were wrinkled, which was surprising because she was usually so meticulous about ironing. Harry wondered what was troubling her.
"Harry, aren't you going to introduce me to your, erm…friends?" Petunia asked, hesitating on the word 'friends.' Harry supposed it was because she was so used to him not having any around her. "Oh, right. I forgot. Ron and Hermione, this is my Aunt Petunia, she was my mum's sister. Aunt Petunia, these are my best mates, Ron and Hermione. We went to school together," Harry said in a rush.
"Went?" Petunia asked as she narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean 'went to school?' I thought you had one more year." Harry looked away and mumbled, "Well, something came up." Petunia hadn't heard him clearly, "What did you say?"
"I said that something came up. I'm not even sure if the school is going to open next year. Even if it was, I wouldn't be going back. I have something more important to do and-" but Petunia had interrupted him. "More important to do? I've never approved of your kind, but I always figured you liked it there. I should have known that with the freaks you had as parents that you would drop out, whether you were a wizard or normal." Ron and Hermione exchanged surprised glances at each other at this remark. They were probably surprised at the way she insulted my parents, thought Harry. I'm not. I am surprised that she called me a wizard, though. She had always referred to what he was as 'one of them.' Harry realized she was still carrying on. "Listen, Petunia," he interrupted, "I have something I need to talk to you about. Or rather, to ask you. I've never asked anything of you and I never will again, but can we talk in private?" He hated to ask, but he had to know. He hadn't expected her to agree so quickly.
"Fine, fine. Let's go to the kitchen shall we?" she replied. She walked into the kitchen and Harry slowly followed her. They sat down and Harry hesitated a few times and began to tell her all that had happened that year and most of what had happened in the years before.
Ron looked around at the Muggle sitting room he was in. He looked at the sofa he was sitting on; he looked at the carpet, the wallpaper, the ceiling, and the many knickknacks that decorated the room, everything except Hermione. He hadn't been alone with her since he had held her at Dumbledore's funeral. Of course, they hadn't been alone then either, but everyone was so wrapped in their own grief that it had felt it. Ron's eyes landed on a picture on the mantel above the fireplace. It was of Dudley. Ron walked over, picked it up.
He was about to show Hermione the photo, but decided against it. He didn't really care how tubby Dudley was. Ron was miserable. He hadn't been as close to Dumbledore as Harry, but losing the headmaster had left a void in him. He had been keeping up a good front though. All of his humor and glib hadn't been forced, but most of it had, especially towards Harry. Harry had watched Dumbledore die. Ron tried to cheer him up the most, but sometimes it just wasn't in him. He didn't have to be that way with Hermione, so he put the picture back down. It was strange to him how it didn't move. Muggles are so strange, he thought.
"I wonder what he's telling her," said Hermione suddenly, and Ron was startled by her voice. They had both been silent since their whispered disagreement about Dudley's weight. Ron was glad she was the one to break the silence. He turned and looked at her. "I wonder too. What I really want to know is what he's going to ask her," replied Ron. He did wonder. He knew it had something to do with his parents, but that's about it.
"Me too," agreed Hermione as she wrung her hands in her lap. She's been doing that a lot lately. Ron worried about her. He both wanted her to accompany Harry and him and not to accompany them. They were getting into something more dangerous than they ever had before. Polyjuice Potion and werewolves and even Death Eaters were one thing. But, this was so purposeful. Before they had been thrown into those situations or gone into them planning to save a particular person, like Sirius at the Department of Mysteries. This was more like a mission than anything else they had ever done and it was more directly related to Voldemort than Ron cared to think about. Ron also thought that it had a lot to do with the fact that Dumbledore was no longer around to save them in the nick of time.
"Will you stop that?" asked Hermione anxiously. "You're making me nervous." Ron realized he had been pacing back and forth. "Right. Sorry about that. I guess I was nervous too." To keep himself from doing that again, Ron walked over and sat down again. He realized that he had sat down closer to her than he had before. Suddenly he was more nervous than he was earlier. It's just Hermione, thought a voice in Ron's head. Another voice piped up, Yeah, right! Just Hermione! She's only your best friend and incredibly adorable, even when she's wringing her hands like that. Ron had known for some time how he felt about Hermione, and over the past year he was fairly certain how she felt about him. Not that it matters. It doesn't feel right to be thinking about things like that when there is a war going on and we're in the thick of it.
However, Ron couldn't help but think of things like that when Hermione stopped wringing her hands and he realized it was because she had grabbed one of his. Ron felt his whole face go hot and probably as red as his hair. Suddenly it didn't matter that they were in the thick of a war. Well, about to be anyway. All that suddenly didn't seem to matter in the Muggle environment they were in and with her holding his hand.
"Ron?" Hermione asked, making Ron jump a little.
"Yes, Hermione?" Ron asked in a voice that was higher and more nervous than his normal one. She didn't seem to notice. He couldn't believe she couldn't hear his heart pounding. He could barely hear her over it. "I was wondering. I've been thinking about my parents. About protecting them with a charm, the Fidelius Charm." Ron looked at her and blushed. She was looking up at him. He couldn't speak for a moment and then realized she had told him something important.
"Why?" he asked. "They're Muggles, would it even work on them?"
"I think so." She let go if his hand, he wanted to grab it back, but she bent down and retrieved something from her bag. To Ron's non-surprise, she pulled out a book. He read that it said, Advanced N.E.W.T. Level Charms in sprawling gold letters across the front. "I've been studying it for the past few months and I think I can manage it. I just don't know who to make the Secret-Keeper."
"I'll do it," said Ron seriously. "I would never give away their location. Not even if I was tortured. They would have to kill me." Ron couldn't believe that those words just tumbled out of his mouth. He knew he meant them though. He would do anything for Hermione. She had gotten a horrified look on her face when he had said that. Ron was suddenly, irrationally, furious. "What's that look for? Don't you trust me?" he asked incredulous. He continued, "You're one of my best mates in the whole world, no you're more than that, you're…you're…Hermione," he finished stupidly, blushing with embarrassment and frustration.
Hermione opened her mouth and spoke quietly, "Of course I trust you. I know you meant every word you said and that scares me. You are too obvious a choice anyway. So are Harry and Ginny." Ron was relieved at her words and his back relaxed. He hadn't realized his entire stature had gone rigid with disbelief. And hurt, if he was honest with himself. He seemed to have been more honest with himself lately, especially when it came to Hermione. He realized that if the situation was reversed, he wouldn't want her to be his Secret-Keeper either. He would want someone he trusted, but didn't know very well and no one would suspect. Someone like Luna Lovegood. There was an idea. "How about Luna? She's proven herself to us more than once. I have a feeling she would never tell." Hermione hesitated, "Well…," and she seemed to be thinking about it. Ron knew what she was probably thinking. She was thinking how she had never really trusted Luna's intelligence, neither had Ron, but she had proven to be a Gryffindor, even if she was a Ravenclaw.
"Why do you feel your parents need a Secret-Keeper anyway?" questioned Ron. "I mean do you really think that a Death Eater is going to target them to get to you or Harry?" Or me. She hesitated again, "Well…yes. It is definitely something that worries me." Suddenly Ron understood why: Draco Malfoy's face suddenly popped into his mind and he was calling Hermione a Mudblood. "Nevermind, I understand. You're worried about Malfoy." Hermione nodded. Both of them would never forget the outrage that they had felt when they found out that Draco had been the one to let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts and had almost killed Dumbledore. He may as well have by disarming him.
"Luna does seem like a good choice, doesn't she?" started Hermione. "I mean she's been so loyal to us and the fight. I mean, she and Neville were the only ones of the DA that still carried their coins around. That definitely counts for something. I just don't know if I want to burden her with that or if she would even want to take it on. I mean it would be like Seamus asking to do it. I like him and all, but I don't really know him, you know? But I suppose if he asked I would do it. I mean, he is a fellow Gryffindor and I would hope that he would know that he could trust me. Luna is as good as a Gryffindor, right?" Hermione finished in a rush.
Ron had stared at her as she rambled. It always amazed him how she could think the same things he thought, like Luna being like a Gryffindor. When she finished, he spoke, "I think she will do it. In fact, I'm almost positive she will do it. Who will ever suspect her? I can't think of anyone, can you?" "No I can't," Hermione replied, "After we've accompanied Harry to Godrics Hollow, we should go see Luna and discuss it with her and her father." Ron was about to agree, when something occurred to him, "But, we're supposed to begin our journey on finding the horcruxes after there, right? I mean, we can't both just abandon Harry."
Hermione got that look on her face when she knows she is right. For a second, Ron thought she was going to sprint off and tell him she had to go to the library before telling him anything. Then she said confidently, "I have a feeling that Harry will want to make one more stop before that."
Aunt Petunia looked even grayer and worn out after Harry had finished telling her most everything. He had told her about Quirrel, the diary, that Sirius had been innocent, Voldemort coming back, Sirius dying, and then about Dumbledore. He wanted her to understand why he had to ask her what he was going to ask. He wasn't sure why it would matter to her and if she would even answer him. For a brief moment she stared at him. No, not stared; she looked directly into his eyes. She had never done that before. It startled Harry. He realized he had another question to ask before he asked the big one.
"Petunia, why are you so…" Harry struggled for the right words. He didn't want to ruin his chances of getting a straight answer from her. He realized there was no polite way to ask. "Why are you so tired and gray looking?" Petunia stopped looking at him and jerked her gaze away. She said, "I don't know. I was fine until this blasted mist came back. I was so glad when it disappeared in the fall. It made me feel awful then too." She seemed to realize what she had said because her eyes widened and she clamped her hand over her mouth, just as she had when she had blurted that she knew what the Dementors are. He had been talking about how she looked, but she had used the word feel. Harry tried to remember how she had looked last summer, but then realized that he had barely spent anytime here at all, so maybe it hadn't taken effect yet, this mist of Dementor breeding. Harry guessed that they must only breed in the summer.
"How does the mist make you feel?" Harry couldn't believe he was asking his aunt such a personal question. He was surprised when she looked relieved that he had asked. "Well, it makes me feel sad and lonely and like I'll never be happy again. It's especially bad when I'm home alone and I don't have Veron or Duddykins to fuss over. Though, they don't make it much better. They don't like to hear me talk about how the mist makes me feel. I don't particularly like to either. I mean, imagine, a mist making me feel like that! It's…not normal. But, neither are you and for some reason, the mist must have made me crazy also, I don't mind sharing with you."
Harry realized he had another question. "What exactly does it make you think of, Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked in a more caring tone than he had ever spoken to his aunt before. She grew quiet and started fidgeting. Harry was afraid he had blown it and after several minutes of silence was about to give up and go back out to the sitting room, when-
"Lily. It makes me think of my last conversation with Lily." Petunia said in a voice barely above a whisper. Then, to his horror and his amazement, she covered her eyes and her shoulders began shaking. She was crying. Not because Dudley had done something wonderful or Harry had done something awful. She was crying about his mother. Her sister whom she claimed to hate. Harry felt he could ask his question now and get a straight answer.
"Petunia, did you love my mother?" She looked up, her face red and wet and simply nodded. That's all Harry needed to know. He stood up stood behind her and did something he never thought he would do. He held his aunt to comfort her. Not to throttle her for treating him so bad, but to comfort her. Part of him thought he was crazy. She had never comforted him, save when he was a very small child and he hadn't shown any signs of being 'not normal' as one of the Dursleys would say. Because of this part of him, he wasn't surprised when she shook him off her when she had composed herself. But she had let him comfort her for a while and so the emotions of Petunia Dursley spilled into the kitchen.
"I-I-I last spoke with my sister a couple of days before James, and you and she went into hiding," Petunia warbled. "We spoke on the phone. She said that they were not monitoring telephones. I had no idea who they were. She told me she loved me and she wanted me to know that if anything should happen to them. I thought, 'What could happen to them? They're wizards! I mean, I know what should happen to them, I mean I am normal and all, but she had told me how wizards could live to be well over a hundred years old. I certainly wasn't going to live that long. Didn't see why she would be able to." She seemed to realize what she had said because next she said, "Not that she should have died so young. I'm just saying that because I despised raising you." Harry guessed that she was also jealous of not being able to live so long, but he didn't say so. He was sitting back in his chair now, in fact fully back in it as if blown back by a blast. The blast wasn't of hot air, though, as was usual with Petunia. She had loved his mum; still loved his mum from the looks of it. She had been quite an actress over the years, though not completely. "Usually when she told me she loved me, I just sighed and said I had to go do something important. This time was no different. I hung up on my sister who loved me. The next I heard of her, she was dead. I didn't get to tell her that I loved her."
Harry came to a decision, not for Petunia's sake, but for his mum's. She had loved her sister and she would want him to at least ask. "Petunia, I am leaving tomorrow to go to mum and dad's graves for the first time. W-w-would you like to go with me and tell mum you love her?" Harry thought that she might say yes, but then she said something astounding. "Yes. But I can't go out there, not into that mist. Also…I can't stand to be around you too long. You have her eyes and that hurts me to the core. Every time I have ever looked at your eyes for very long, and it hasn't been often, I've felt sick with grief and pain and anger. Not at you. Not at Lily, but at myself for loving…" Harry didn't need her to finish. She hated herself for loving him because he was Lily's son, just because he was different from her. Harry didn't think he could ever love her back. She obviously didn't love him that much. But he didn't hate her anymore. So, before leaving the room, he had to, it was suffocating him; Harry pulled out the map in his bag and some chocolate and scooted them across the table to her. "Eat that. It will make you feel better."