Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries

Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak off himself, Petunia, and Hermione in his arms as he heard the bustling noises of a hospital. Throwing the cloak aside, he jogged forward bearing the last injured.

"Miss!" He stopped before the receptionist's desk, panic making his breath short. "Miss, my friend, she needs to get to the fourth floor."

"Another for the fourth floor!" the witch sniffed, indignant, signaling for a pair of wizards to come forward with a gurney. "What have you people been doing?"

"You don't wanna know," Harry murmured, as the two wizards came forward to take Hermione from his arms. He swayed, half tempted to follow the gurney past the double doors the wizards pushed Hermione through.

"I've got to send an owl to Dumbledore or something…" he heard Petunia mutter from behind him.

He wheeled around, eyes snapping fire with pent up anger and frustration. "And you!"

Petunia jumped, shaken out of her musings.

"You, with your magical stirring spoon and knowing about the Floo network and saying you won't let me die! What are you playing at?"

"Harry, shut up. Don't cause a disturbance."

"Yeah, that's all I ever do, isn't it?" Harry snarled. "Cause a disturbance. I've been a nuisance to you ever since you took me in! If you hated me so much, why didn't you just throw me out?"

"Harry, don't be stupid. I don't hate you."

"Yeah? Well, you must be a damn good actress, 'cause you've sure had me fooled for the past fifteen years!" Petunia opened her mouth to reply, but Harry cut her off. "Just forget it! Just leave me alone."

There was complete silence. Petunia stared at Harry with wide, astonished eyes as he glared back at her, green eyes cold with fury and hate.

"Just forget it! Leave me alone."

"Petunia, come on, honey. Go back to your flat; Amelia and Hestia will look after you—"

"Stay away from me! I never want to see you again!"

"Petunia!"

"Go away!"

"Do you want to know why my stirring spoon did magic, Harry?" she asked quietly. He regarded her sullenly. "Because it's a wand. I'm a witch."

"I don't know why you're f-cking with me like this, but I'm not gonna put up with—"

"Shut up, Harry, and give me two minutes!" Petunia shouted, stunning Harry into silence. "My spoon did magic because my old wand is the stem. I threw out everything magical when I left that world except my wand. I thought I might need it one day."

"You told me you were never magical, and you hated everything that was!"

"I lied. I've been lying to you since you were dropped on my doorstep."

"That I have no trouble believing."

"I told you to be quiet. Do you want the truth, or don't you?" Again, Harry made no reply besides a morose gaze. "Your mother and I were New Magic…that's the polite term for "Mudblood". We were twins, which I'm sure I never told you, and we were friends with Amelia Bones, Marlene McKinnon, Emmeline Vance, and Hestia and Diana Jones—sisters. Do you know any of them?"

"I know most of them."

"Diana married Apollo Lovegood, I believe. Emmeline and Hestia were together, but I don't know what came out of it."

"And why's that?"

Petunia winced. "There were…circumstances, ones that I couldn't get past, so I decided to give up magic. Lily disagreed with me; we fought, and I parted with her on bad terms. I wasn't there when you were born. She wrote to me, but I never wrote back."

"And what were these "circumstances" that made you disown my mother?"

"None of your business."

"Oh, and you being a witch isn't my business?"

"I told you. I gave up magic. I found the most Muggle man I could and married him as soon as I could, had his child, and settled down. The last I ever heard of Lily was the letter Dumbledore left me when you were brought to my door.

"What letter?"

"He left me a letter explaining what had happened, and that Lily had listed me as your godmother to take you in should anything happen to you and that Sirius character."

A pang hit Harry's chest at the mention of his godfather. "And what about what you've been putting me through? You and Dudley and Uncle Vernon, you've all been practically abusing me for fifteen years!"

"That…that I have no excuses for. Just that…you were a reminder of the circumstances that made me leave the magical world and the sister it took from me. I suppose I thought…if I could make you hurt…"

"You would feel better," Harry finished, and Petunia looked away. "And Uncle Vernon? Does he know about this?"

"God, no. Neither does Dudley. I wouldn't dream of telling either of them."

"Is there anything else I don't know about? Missing siblings? A disowned cousin, perhaps?"

"Harry—"

"Look, I can't deal with this right now, okay?"

"Where are you going?" Petunia asked, starting for Harry as he turned away.

"The top floor. I need to not be around you right now."

The bright and cheery colors of the hospital gift shop seemed to mock him. Had he been truly paying attention, he would have wanted to do them a turn much like what he had done to Dumbledore's office a month ago.

A meeting of arm on arm snapped him from his furious reverie and his head shot up. He was looking into the face of an elderly witch. She was taller than he, with long black hair, and her tanned, wrinkled face held a friendly smile and dark blue eyes sporting the clouded, blank look he had seen in the Longbottom's eyes.

"Sorry," Harry muttered gruffly.

"Hello! Can I help you!" she asked brightly.

"Um, no. Thank you, though."

"Hello! Can I help you!"

"Oleta!"

A slightly frazzled witch, her uniform giving her away as an employee, rounded the aisle. "Oleta, dear, don't bother customers," she said, taking hold of the woman's arm. "Here, go look after aisle twelve. Just don't touch anything, okay?"

"Okay!" Oleta said, like a child who's just been convinced to do a previously designated unpleasant task now that ice cream had been promised, and scuttled away, humming a tune.

"Poor darling," the witch murmured, clicking her tongue. "To have that brilliant Ravenclaw mind go to waste…"

"Who was she?" Harry asked.

"You don't know?" She turned on him, looking scandalized. Harry noted that his bangs must be covering his scar, otherwise she'd abandon her gossip to fawn over him. "That was Oleta Dumbledore."

"Oleta…who?"

"Albus Dumbledore's wife! Have you been living under a rock? Oh, it's such a shame, what happened," she continued before Harry could counter her. "You-Know-Who got her one day. Used Cruciatus on her until her mind was completely gone. Dumbledore got there before he could kill her and managed to drive him away, but Oleta's never been quite right since…she's just like a child nowadays. We let her roam the gift shop since she's harmless. Dumbledore's always here in the summer, and he was here for a bit when he was on the run from Fudge, but he hasn't been coming around much lately. Must have to do with You-Know-Who, know that he's—" There was a loud crash from a few aisles over. "Oh, Oleta!" The witch abandoned Harry immediately, taking off towards the sound. "Oleta, don't touch anything!"

'That must be why Dumbledore always looks so sad,' Harry thought suddenly, the first coherent thought he'd had since the witch told him Oleta's last name. In every single memory he had of Dumbledore, the old man's face was invariably long and drawn, even when he smiled or laughed.

All of a sudden Harry felt a rush of guilt fill his chest as he remembered his tirade in Dumbledore's office just last month. Had any of those things he'd demolished indiscriminately been gifts from Oleta, souvenirs from their life together?

"Harry!" a male voice called. "Oi, Harry!"

Harry's head snapped around to see George standing at the entranceway to the aisle, red-eyed and panting. His stomach dissolved. "Are…are they—?"

"No!" George yelled, joy managing to crack its way into his voice. "No one's dead. Ron and Dad are pulling through just fine. And Mum…she's coming back to reality."

"What about Ginny and Hermione?" Harry demanded.

"I don't know about Ginny yet," George said, feeling a pang at the thought of his baby sister, "but Hermione's awake. Her head injury wasn't as bad as we thought. She says she wants to see you."

"I'm there."