Petunia came into his room later that evening after dinner – in which Vernon never even sat at the table, too busy in the office room – and held in her arms a large stack of books. Harry was just sitting on his bed with his Firebolt in his hands, spinning it around and thinking how now Ron got to be a Prefect and Quidditch Captain – just like he saw for himself in the Mirror in their first year. He was glad for his friend, and yet disgusted with him. It wasn't Ron's fault – it wasn't – it was Harry's fault. Harry loved him enough to accept him into his bed, and once in it, he loved that too. The feel of his hands, the taste of his mouth…it was gorgeous.
The broom in his hands spun and spun, while his eyes stared at a single spot on the wall. He went though it all in his head, yet he stopped once the kissing was over. He couldn't bring himself to remember what happened after that.
A knock on the door made him blink and broke his vision from the hospital ward. He looked up a Petunia.
"Vernon told me you have an interview at Smeltings in two days."
"Really?" Harry put the broom down under his bed quickly, and wiped his sweaty hands on his knees.
She came in and deposited a handful of books on his bed next to him. They were old text books by the looks of them.
"Dudley's old school list. I remember my sister never had to study the things I did at school. I thought these would help."
"Oh yes…thank you, Aunt Petunia." Harry lifted a volume of ancient literature, and under it was a calculus book. "Thanks…" he really wasn't interested in the topics, that was sure.
Petunia went ahead and sat on the bed next to him, her weight tipping him towards her. "How do you feel?"
Harry was more confused than ever by their behavior. But they were helping him. They were healing him.
"Why are you treating me so nice? Uncle Vernon calling Smeltings, and you giving me these –" he looked at her, "you never were this way about anything that ever happened to me."
Petunia nodded, and for several moments she seemed on the verge of tears or just storming away. Instead, she wiped her eyes.
"When I was in still in school, there was a man in our area who was raping women…" Harry swallowed hard, never knowing Petunia had a story like this. "My friend and I were walking back to our shared apartment, because you weren't supposed to go anywhere alone at that time, and we were just around the corner from our place when we heard this – awful – scream. We ran over to the sound, and we weren't alone; there were two men who were on the streets with us. A man in an alley had attacked this older woman and hit her on the head. The man must have heard us coming because he ran off, and the four of us waited for the police and ambulance to come for her."
Petunia was almost lost in her memory the way Harry had just been lost in his. "What happened next?" Harry whispered.
"It was another two weeks before someone caught the man doing this…but it was so – horrible just witnessing it. I told Vernon all about it at the time. We were still only dating, but after that night he always walked me home, afraid something would happen to me. He really loved me…"
Harry swallowed hard and Petunia put her hand over his, and Harry wrapped a finger around her bony hand. "You being – hurt like you were…I think it reminded him of all that."
"Was she raped? That woman who you saved…"
"No. But she died at the hospital." Petunia let the memory fade from her mind before she got up, bid him good night, and closed the door on her way out.
Harry got under his covers and curled up. Rest eluded him, but he at least felt safe.