Tears of the forgotten

Mannd

I don't own HP or GW, no really I don't.

Petunia Dursley elbowed her snoring husband in the side, hard. He grunted and grumbling in his sleep rolled onto his side, he was quiet for a few moments then his snores began again. Usually Petunia would try to fall asleep before Vernon, but tonight... something was tugging on her senses. Lily had always told her that she might not have been a witch and couldn't use magic, but she always seemed to know when Lily was in danger or hurting.

Petunia slowly sat up, making sure to not rock the bed, but as deeply as Vernon was sleeping she doubted a herd of elephants running on the mattress could wake him up. She got up and picked up her favorite blue bathrobe and belting it tightly slipped into her slippers and opened their bedroom door.

Dudley was sleeping, she could hear his snores through his bedroom door, and she closed her eyes and followed her instincts. She hadn't even realized she was on the first floor until her hand touched the rasp on the cupboard door. She gently opened it and listened, as soft sniffle met her ears and very slowly and carefully she felt for her sister's son. Harry gasped as Petunia touched his head and sat up, "Harry," she said gently "come on out." Then she stood up and moved into the kitchen.

She was just putting a small pan of milk on the stove next to the slowly heating up kettle, when Harry slid into the room. She efficiently made the preparations for tea for herself and Dudley's favorite hot chocolate for Harry. When the milk came to a soft simmer, she turned off the gas for both the water and the milk and quickly made the hot beverages. She carried the cups to the table, set them down and Harry blinked in surprise when instead of sitting in her usual seat at the end of the table, she chose to sit next to him.

Petunia watched Harry out of the corner of her eye as he slowly sipped the hot liquid, when he had drank over half, she set her cup down, and turned to look at him, "what's wrong?" she said finally.

Harry blinked, "nothing," he said hastily, but Petunia gently caught his chin and brushing his cheek with her other held up wet fingers. Harry bit his lip and tried to look away, but Petunia wasn't letting him turn his head, "I..." he began then broke off as he began sobbing.

"Sweet boy," Petunia said, startling herself at the words and pulled Harry's chair closer to hers and hugged him.

"They forgot me," Harry said finally, and Petunia nodded to herself, "they said that we would do things and now they don't want to and I don't know what I did."

Petunia sighed to herself as she gently stroked Harry's back, she knew this was going to happen, those Boys had hurt her nephew and she had no way of contacting them to chew them out. "I'm sorry, Harry," she said not knowing what else to say. She wanted to give him words of hope and comfort and maybe reasons why, but she didn't want to hurt the boy any more that They already had.

Harry pulled away, and Petunia let him watching as he took a few more sips of the cocoa. "Trowa is back in the circus with Cathy, Duo is on L2 trying to open a new company, Quatre is in charge of so many companies, and Heero..." he trailed off impatiently brushing at his tears.

"I don't think they forgot you Harry," she said gently, "sometimes adults get busy and..."

"Forget," she grimaced at his soft spoken word, he played with the edge of his cup, "I thought we were friends."

"Harry," Petunia turned his face so it was looking at her, "don't think that they aren't your friends. It can happen and I think that when peace is finally and completely here, they will be your friends again."

Harry looked away then sighed finishing the last of his hot chocolate, "so I need to be patient?"

Petunia smiled at the understanding tone, hearing the undercurrent of pain, bitterness and hurt, "yes," and Harry sighed. "Back to bed, scamp," she said and smiled as he gave her a quick smile before he moved down the hall. She took the cups to the sink and rinsed them out, turned off the kitchen lights then moved passed his door giving it a slight rap and headed up the stairs.

An owl flew through the night, a letter with green writing clutched in it's claws. 'There,' it thought as it flew over number five, 'that one.' he angled his feet and gave a small push of magic that was inherent to messenger owls and watched with satisfaction as the letter slipped into the letter slot of number four. It then moved to the trees and putting it's head under it's wing, fell asleep until the letter receiver needed him.

Edit 02 '11 - Again sorry for all the misspelled words.