Chapter 5 Family
The torches flared to life, jarring Vernon and Petunia's eyes and senses. They had spent the time Harry slept whispering to each other, watching the paintings across the room. Every dog running the streets, bird flying across the sky, and flower blowing in the breeze brought pangs of envy and pain to the pair. They watched their crazed nephew with fear as he stretched, leered at them, and walked over to Godric's Hollow.
"Gin? You awake?" he called to the cottage's canvas. The door opened and the happy girl ran toward him.
"Here, Harry! I wish you could join me, my love!" She gazed at him with palatable longing. He smiled softly at her, then turned and moved to a large canvas across the room from Godric's Hollow.
Finger waving and one incantation later and a large family of redheads were revealed, sitting asleep on a lawn in front of an impossible house that looked like a jumble of add-ons and extensions. The Dursleys observed the family, assuming they were related to Harry's Ginny. There was a man and wife surrounded by five boys with hair as red as their own. Two of the boys seemed to be twins, but was hard to tell as one was wearing a gag nose with mustache and glasses and the other had a fake arrow through his head. Petunia was sure she would not like the family – they lived like tramps in the wreck of a house and the kids had to be weak-minded with hair like that.
"The Burrow!" Ginny cried with joy. "But where's Ron?"
"Special portrait, my love" Harry smiled gently at her. "I'll wake him another day." He looked fondly at the family. "Most of my happy memories were here, Ginny. Wake up Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley! Wake up Fred, George, Percy, Bill and Charlie! Wake up and join your sister." He turned away for a moment and conjured a brandy snifter full of dark liquid.
"Harry dear, are we gone?" Molly gently called out. The family was looking around and examining each other. The twins seemed to enjoy their gag glasses and head gear.
"Yes, Mrs. Weasley. I'm afraid that inviting me in was a bad thing to do. Dumbledore hadn't put half the wards on your home he claimed to. Voldemort found me just two days later." Harry's voice broke with the memories.
"I told you the wards weren't right, Mum!" Bill shook his head.
"We don't blame you, Harry" Mr. Weasley told the wizard gently. "In fact, you have our gratitude for this painting."
Ginny entered the painting and was promptly gathered into her family's arms. "Mum, Dad – there are the Dursleys over there. They can't leave, and I'm sure they would love to hear what you think of them." She winked at Harry, who nodded his approval and sat down in his chair.
"PETUNIA DURSLEY! HOW DARE YOU TREAT HARRY THE WAY YOU DID? FINE THING THAT YOU MARRIED AN AXE MURDERER OF A MUGGLE, BUT COULDN'T YOU HAVE AT LEAST PROTECTED YOUR NEPHEW A LITTLE?" Molly was screeching just like Harry fondly remembered. And she hadn't yet hit her stride.
"Harry mate – they can't leave, but can things enter your relative's canvas?" Fred waggled his eyebrow's at the Boy-Who-Lived. George rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
Harry shook his head with a smirk. "Sorry guys – they are sealed off." He slowly sipped his brandy, contentedly watching the Weasleys walking through Hogsmeade, flying brooms around The Burrow, and occasionally yelling insults at his Aunt and Uncle.
Vernon and Petunia stared at the living paintings across from them. Those freaks could eat, drink, and move from place to place. Eyes wide with claustrophobic fear, Vernon jerked nervously in his seat, gazing at the dark stairs inches above his head, incrusted with dusty webs. How long would his nephew keep them like this?