A/N- Written for the Harmony Discord, the story kind of ran away with me so the Harmony stuff's quite gentle.Some non-detailed description of domestic abuse. Only a little bit at one point but still worth mentioning.Also, there's a little Easter egg/reference to one of my favourite Harmony stories by SweetShireen. Tell me if you spot it.Obviously, I don't own Harry Potter.
It's been years. This house holds nothing but memories of torment and loneliness. The loneliest years of his life. Returning now with Hermione's hand in his was the only way he could return at all. Part of him wasn't sure they would actually move back after Riddle died and they could no longer be targeted. But they did. Well, most of them.
Dudley grew tired of his father. He moved out fairly quickly, went to college, defied even Harry's expectations of him and, when all was said and done, became a decent man. He and Harry had reconciled after a few years and became what you might expect from cousins. They saw each other once or twice a year and it was pleasant.
Dudley married eventually, and had a daughter. She was brought up much better than Dudley was. He saw what mistakes his parents made and vowed to himself and to his wife that he would not make the sames ones with his child. And, largely, he didn't. Of course no parent's perfect. He made mistakes, but his daughter was loved and paid that love forward.
But, all good things come to an end. For Dudley, that end came too early. He wasn't even 40 when he died. He had a heart attack. His parents allowed too much for him and his body couldn't cope long term. And that was how Harry found himself, hand in hand with Hermione, staring back at number 4 Privet Drive, once again.
It felt unfair. To have the wake of a good man at the house of a cruel child. But, his parents insisted.
Harry took several deep breaths in, trying to ready himself to enter. He saw movement inside, even saw a few eyes look through the window and notice him and his wife, but he wasn't ready yet. Hermione squeezed his hand.
"How am I supposed to do this Hermione?" he saw her turn to look at him in his peripheral. "How do I go in there and mourn him when all I'll see is the worst part of my life?" He turned to her, his expression pleading her for an answer. She looked stuck. She didn't know the answer. His heart started to break before her features morphed into determination. She looked him in the eye and tightened her hold on his hand.
"With me." and that's all he really needed. They turned back to the house and marched themselves in.
They walked through the door and what Harry sww wasn't entirely what he had imagined. He knew there would be people in the house, but he hadn't really thought about that. He was picturing him and his wife entering and he would see the empty hall he had known so well, the cupboard that had been the closest thing to home and not be able to cope. But the images of the house from his childhood were changed by the number of people in the house.
They walked through into the living room and the first thing their eyes landed on was the shrine. A big picture of Dudley adorned in front of the fireplace, surrounded by flowers and condolence cards. The Dudley in the photo was the one he was mourning for. The adult. The husband. The father. Not the child. Not the bully. The friend
His mind went straight to the first time they met up after everything. It was 2 years after the war. They met in a pub and just talked. It took a few minutes but they unloaded everything. Dudley probably apologised about a hundred times. Harry unloaded his emotions, but without the anger. The anger had never helped him so he allowed the tears to come instead. Dudley was kind. He even hugged Harry, however awkward that may have been. But then, he unloaded to. Yes, he had been selfish. Yes, he had enjoyed beating on Harry. But that was because of how powerless he felt. How stupid he knew he was. How much he knew he could never live up to what he parents thought he was. The day he started to accept that, was the day the Dementors attacked.
"I don't know much about what those things were. I mean, Christ, I couldn't even see them. But, for whatever reason, they made me remember the worst day of my life. The day I failed at school, but you weren't there to take the punishment. We had gone to the coast for the weekend after our year 2 SATs, I don't know if you remember. You were left with Mrs. Figg and they took the envelope with us to open, just the three of us. They had been saying they didn't want you to spoil a happy memory or some such bullshit.
"So, we were at the beach, they wanted to open the envelope in an exciting place. They opened it, but dad didn't let me see what it said. He didn't say anything. He just froze. After a second, me and mum got worried but he soon got up and said 'We're going back to the hotel.' which we did. That was where he took out his anger and disappointment in me. I failed. Almost all of them. Usually, he'd have taken it out on you but you weren't available. So, he let loose on me for the only time in my childhood.
"Shouted, screamed, punched, kicked. He even slapped mum when she tried to stop him. After that, he pretended it never happened and we went straight home the next morning. After seeing that again, I just couldn't ignore what I had always been. I couldn't ignore how I had felt that day and the fact that that must have been how you felt your whole life around me and mum and dad." He had started crying by this point. "I couldn't ignore you anymore and it broke me. I'd spent my life ignoring what I was and took it out on you. I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am, Harry. I hate myself for what I was to you and I don't expect you to forgive but I wanna try and..." he trailed off and couldn't continue through his regretful tears. Harry had embraced him again and that encounter opened the door for a new relationship with his cousin.
Harry returned to the room he was in and took everything else in. Hermione still at his side, people milling around, talking in low voices. His eyes found his Aunt and Uncle. His Uncle, clearly, avoiding the sight of him but his Aunt was looking directly at him looking pained. Harry took another deep breath in, squeezed Hermione's hand and started towards them. But, his journey was cut off by a small girl colliding with his leg.
He looked down and took in the Strawberry Blonde hair that met his thigh. He smiled sadly at the sight and lowered himself to greet the young girl.
"Hi, Isabella." he said, to which she raised her eyes, revealing them to be bright red and puffy.
"Uncle Harry" the 4 year old whimpered. "I miss daddy!" she then cried and planted her head on his chest and arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her as well.
"I know, sweetie. I miss him too. You're being so brave. I'm so proud of you."
"I want him to come back!" she whined through her tears and against his chest.
"I know." he said, having nothing better to say. He just rubbed her back. He thought of something then. "Hey, how's mummy? Are you looking after her?"
"Mummy's crying too. Just as much." At that, her mummy came round the corner from the kitchen. Her eyes met Harry's and she started to crumble more. Harry turned to Hermione, asking her to take Isabella with only his eyes. She understood perfectly and picked her up, consoling her some more. She always has been better with people, especially crying people.
Harry strode forward to Lila and embraced her tightly.
"You're alright Lila. You're okay." he said, rubbing at her back too as she fell apart in his arms. "He loved you both. So, so much."
"I know." she replied, muffled with her face against Harry's shoulder. "I know." Neither had anything else to say. From behind him, Harry heard some heavy footsteps approaching him and Lila. He had a bad feeling he knew who it was.
"Lila," came the familiar, booming, harsh voice from his childhood, "you should say some words. About Dudley. It's only appropriate. Address all who've congregated for him." Lila slowly raised her head and stared at Vernon in disbelief. Harry, however, beat her to the response.
"Come on, Vernon. Look at her. Now's not the time for that. Appropriate be damned. Everyone here knew Dudley. They can reminisce together. Just let Lila have some peace, yeah?" Vernon looked back at Harry for the first time. He looked incensed.
"Fine. I'll do it myself. Attention! Everyone." he said as he positioned himself next to the photo of his son. "I just think it right to say a few words before we eat and the day is over. Today, we mourn my son. We had a beautiful ceremony and it was nothing less than what he deserved. He was a delightful presence ever since he was a child." At those words, Harry knew this was going to be the hardest part of the day. Vernon had grown the least and remained as stubborn as he always had been. He refused to accept that anything about his parenting and Dudley's childhood was wrong. But, everyone in the room knew the truth. Harry felt Lila tense beside him. "He made us proud with everything he did. He excelled at school. He was always well liked and was a role model to all those below him." Of course, it's always about what people saw, about his achievements. Never just about him. "He gained great success with what he did and married a beautiful woman and had a beautiful child." Harry could feel the distain seeping if Lila's body as Vernon made the memory of her husband nothing more than his successes in what Vernon thought made a man successful in the world. "There are some here who would say otherwise about my Dudley. There are some who have come today who would besmirch my son's name with filthy lies about who and what he was. And those dirty, good-for-nothing freaks will not be tolerated in this house!"
His eyes stayed on Harry as he raised his voice, nearly yelling that last bit. Harry knew that would come, eventually. But, it still brought his mind back to the trauma that his life here was. He was filling up with anger as Vernon went on until he felt a familiar hand grip his. He turned his head to see his best friend in the whole world, his wife looking at him with determination and sympathy. Just from that look alone, Harry built up his courage and did something that he never thought himself capable. He let go of Hermione, let go of Lila and approached his uncle.
"Vernon." he declared. "I'm sorry."
"Don't try that with me you cretin."
"I'm sorry."
"I said don't you worthless shit!"
"I'm sorry." He got closer every time and even put a hand in his uncle's arm.
"I said no you filthy, freakish..." Vernon crilumbked in tears and sank to his knees. Harry crouched with him and loosely embraced him.
"I'm so, so sorry." He didn't like the taste of the kindness he was paying his uncle. But, he knew it was necessary. He had grown to love his cousin, and he couldn't have the man's own father ruin what should be a celebration of his life.
It took a few minutes, but the congregation of guests in the house moved back into gentle chatter and reminiscing. After another hour or two, people started leaving. It was then that Lila approached Harry again.
"Hey Harry. Thank you for dealing, with Vernon. I didn't really have the strength, or the energy to handle that."
"It's fine Lila. I couldn't let that go on."
"Anyway, Issy and I are staying here overnight. I don't want go force you into anything, especially where this house is concerned, but would you like to stay too? You and Hermione could stay in your old bedroom? I think it would mean a lot to Issy if you did. And I think you and those two could do with clearing the air, or something you know? Maybe, get the memories of this place to stop haunting you a bit?" He didn't want to. He really didn't want to. But he could see why it might help.
" Umm, I'll talk to Hermione." he said, with a tight lipped smile. She smiled back and he set off to find her.
He discovered her investigating the Cupboard under the stairs. She was crouching in the door from, craning over the boxes that now covered what was his childhood cot to look around it without hitting her head. He came up behind her and, after hesitating for a moment, crouched down next to her.
"So, this is it, huh? Where you slept until you were 11?" she said, nearly spitting it out. He hardly recognised it. There was virtually nothing of him left on the cupboard. Just a few figurines, and a copy of Cinderella on a shelf. He wasn't sure he wanted to reminisce much about the cupboard so got straight to the point.
"Lila's asked if we could stay here overnight. She and Issy are. We would take what became my actual room and probably talk to Vernon and Petunia in the morning. Clear the air, or something. I'm not sure I want to but I do think I should be here for her and Issy. She said it would mean a lot for Issy."
"I think that it would be good for us to be hear for Issy and Lila." She then swivelled a little on her feet to face Harry directly. "I also think that this house holds a lot of unpleasant memories and has a lot of damaging meanings for you that you've never faced. A lot of the things you find difficult, opening up to people, letting people in, let alone help you and your fears about what kind of parent you might be come from this house and those two people in there. I think it's time you dealt with that and moved on properly."
"I have moved on, love..." he tried but Hermione interrupted.
"To an extent, sure. But this place still did a number on you, for eleven years no less! I don't think you're gonna really move on and live your life to the fullest until you handle it. Please?" He looked up and met her gaze. He saw her determination, he saw her stubbornness. But, most of all, he saw her love, compassion and care for him so his mind was made up quite quickly.
"OK. We'll stay."
After another couple of hours, the house had only the residents, Lila, Issy, Harry and Hermione.
Vernon and Petunia disappeared into their bedroom first. Harry helped Lila out Issy to sleep in Dudley's old bedroom, which looked significantly tidier than it had the few times Harry had seen it years before. He hugged Lila goodnight and then he and Hermione retired to his old room.
It was basically empty. No sign of Harry having ever lived there. He could see where all of his stuff had been, even saw the loose floorboard he would hide sweets and wizard stuff in. They both stripped down to their underwear and got under the covers.
Hermione grabbed at Hardy until they were pressed against each other in the bed, holding each other tightly.
"I'm so proud of you Harry. If you'd have said the word I'd have whisked you away in a second. But, you held out. You were amazing today." Hermione whispered, sounding rather sleepy.
"I couldn't have done it without you here. If you hadn't been there when Vernon was saying his bloody 'words', I'd've probably broken his nose. You're pretty good and relieving my anger."
"Well, someone's had to hold you back all these years." she replied with a soft chuckle. "I love you Harry."
"I love you too Hermione." and with that, her breathing evened out and she was asleep. Harry closed his eyes and revelled in the feel of her. She was always able to centre him and out him in the right path. Just thinking about that and what tomorrow might bring, he started to feel hopeful that he could put the pain of this house behind him. The pain of his Aunt and Uncle behind him. For the first time, he was going to sleep in this house feeling excited.
Tomorrow, Number 4 Privet Drive would never bother him again. And it was all because he had Hermione.