Chapter 10 - Friends

Three canvases remained dark and silent on the far wall. The Dursleys waited for their nephew to wake up and start the torture. It wasn't fair. They were his flesh and blood. Perhaps they had been a bit harsh with the boy, and maybe they could have been a bit more generous, but to make them sit and listen to freaks yelling at them, watching the freaks eat, drink, sleep and play – it was just cruel.

"It gets worse and worse, Vernon" Petunia whispered, hoping Harry would keep sleeping. "Who could possibly be next? What could be worse than Lily? Why can't she stop glaring at us? I'm dead because of her freak world – what more does she want?"

"They aren't people, Petunia" Vernon shook his head, trying to get some distance and personal space in the cramped cupboard. "They are animals – we always knew that."

'I suppose I treated animals better than my nephew' came the unbidden thought into Petunia's mind. She shook her head – where did that come from?

Harry rolled out of his cot and cast his alert, glowing eyes at his Aunt and Uncle. "Good morning" he simpered sarcastically. He waved his hand and conjured a table facing the portrait, his back to his friend's canvases, and filled the table with a sumptuous repast. He thought of every tasty food that was ever served at the Weasley's home, or the Hogwart's feasts. Every delectable treat that had been available before the war.

Vernon and Petunia licked their dry lips for the thousandth time that week. The food looked so good, smelled so wonderful. Harry sat himself down and proceeded to pick and choose from the many over flowing dishes. "Too bad you can't have any" he mumbled joyfully around a mouth full.

After a short time the wizard could not eat anymore. He truly wasn't hungry, but he knew it would kill his uncle in particular to watch him . He banished the food and moved to the wall. "Three to go" he muttered, watching Ginny play with Dobby and Winky in front of the manor. His shaking hand pressed against the surface of the painting. "It's all most over".

Reaching over one canvas, he did the spell and brought a painting to life. Petunia and Vernon watched a young couple come into focus, and he recognized the pair as friends of his nephews they had seen at the train station. Another red-headed boy and a young woman with thick, bushy brown hair.

"Ron, Hermione? Time to wake up" Harry spoke fondly to the sleeping pair.

They woke up and blushed as consciousness allowed them to see they were in each other's arms. "Harry, mate – what happened?" Ron spoke at last.

Tears poured non-stop down Harry's scared cheeks, running in strange directions due to the severe scarring. "You injured him, Ron. Your spells worked really well, 'Mione. But it took a few more years to kill him. He got you first." He placed his hand over the flat hands of his portrait friends. "I've missed you so much."

"He's gone, Harry? Who's left?" Hermione watched her friend with love and pity.

"Only me" he whispered. "Only me."

"What are they doing here?" Ron gestured and frowned at the Dursleys, who glared back.

Harry just giggled in reply.

"Oh Harry" Hermione sobbed in pity and sorrow. "I knew the Dark Arts were too much. Look what has happened to you."

"I couldn't have killed him without it, 'Mione" Harry shrugged. He conjured his chair and toasted to his dead friends. "You've got just about everyone here, guys. Your family, Ron, Hogwarts, the professors, friends – lots of places to live. We can all be together at last."

"But you aren't here, mate" Ron gently pointed out. He took Hermione by the hand and led her to another painting. They looked around with approval.

"Soon". That was all Harry said the rest of the day. He sat down to watch his gallery, back turned to the Dursleys.