Chapter Four
Knots
"We should Apparate right in the middle of their living room," Ron snickered. "That would be brilliant!"
It was the day before Harry turned seventeen, and he, Ron, and Hermione were making their way downstairs to have some breakfast before heading back to Privet Drive. After their discussion a week ago, the three of them had made Mr. and Mrs. Weasley aware of their plans. They didn't give specifics, but Harry said that he needed to talk to his aunt about something important. The Weasley's didn't like the idea of Ron and Hermione tagging along. Mrs. Weasley said it was "much too dangerous," but Ron - ears going red - reminded them that he was of age, and that Hermione wasn't their daughter, and therefore they could tell neither of them what to do. That didn't stop Mrs. Weasley from waving her wand threateningly at him and promising to take a leaf out of Fred and George's book and turn his bedroom into a swamp if the three of them didn't return by the next day. Harry promised that they would, having no desire to tempt Voldemort into catching him unawares. Once the three of them got back from the Dursleys, Harry was going to be moved to Headquarters where he would be protected. Harry was not looking forward to this in the slightest; the only reason he ever wanted to go back to Grimmauld Place was to see Sirius. There was nothing for him there now.
"It's legally your home now, dear," Mrs. Weasley had said. "And seeing as you're not going back to school . . . well, it's something you might want to think about. You know you're always welcome here, but considering the circumstances . . . "
Hermione and Ron reasoned that he'd just have to make it his home until the war's over. "Once Voldemort is gone, there will be no reason for you to keep it," Hermione said, sympathetically. "I know you hate that house now, just like Sirius did. But, it is Order Headquarters and well protected, not just by the Fidelius Charm, but by other wards as well. Once you defeat Voldemort, you can sell it and use the money to get a place of your own somewhere else."
You mean if I defeat Voldemort, Harry corrected her, inwardly.
"Yeah, and we'll come live with you, too!" Ron stated. He and Hermione both went red, and he added, quickly, "I mean . . . you know, as your roommates . . . with separate rooms . . . "
Harry rolled his eyes. "I get it, don't worry." Then he smiled. "You know, that would be really great, actually. The three of us getting our own place, at least for a little while." Before you guys get married and have lots and lots of babies. And I'm . . . wherever I am. Harry wasn't sure where it came from, but he couldn't see himself being one of those people who settled down, at least not right now, anyway. He didn't know how long the war was going to last, and it was too dangerous for him to be involved with anyone, let alone have children. Even after the war, he didn't think he'd be able to do it. He would be stained, having gone through so much. It wouldn't be fair to whoever he would be sharing his life with. Well, I might have been able to with Ginny, Harry thought, sadly. But she'll probably be well over me by the time I'm ready to get married, and have gone off with someone else.
"Hello? Earth to Harry!"
Harry snapped himself out of his reverie to see Hermione waving her hand in front of his eyes, trying to get his attention.
"Oh, sorry. Um, what?"
Hermione huffed at him. "I was asking what you wanted to do about getting to your aunt and uncle's. Ron's still insisting that we appear right in front of their face, but as I keep reminding him," she said deliberately, glaring at Ron, "that would be in direct violation of the International Statute of Secrecy."
"Oh, bollocks!" Ron shouted. "They already know about magic!"
"We still can't perform it right in front of Muggles," Hermione argued back.
"You know," Harry interrupted, getting annoyed, "it would be nice if, just once, you guys could give it a bloody rest."
The both of them blushed a satisfying shade of magenta. "You could just tell us to be quiet next time," Ron grumbled.
"I would have done if I thought it would work," Harry said, dismissively. "Anyway, I think our best bet would just be to Apparate in the house. Not in their living room," he added, seeing the look on Hermione's face. "Although Ron's right - it would be totally worth it. The three of us can't fit under my cloak anymore, and we don't have enough for everyone."
"We have two," Hermione said. "Yours, and we could always have Moody floo us his."
"If he's not out on assignment today," Harry pointed out. "We can't just appear in the middle of the street with no way of making sure that no one will see us."
"Well, there's always a Disillusionment Charm," Ron suggested. "But they're ridiculously advanced." He looked expectantly at Hermione, but she shook her head.
"I, er . . . I haven't exactly mastered them yet, actually," she said, sounding a bit sheepish. "I'm working on it, though."
"Well, then Apparating in the house is our only option," Harry said, shrugging. "There's other rooms besides the parlor. We could always just Apparate into my old bedroom, it's probably the last place any of them would be. Unless they've turned it back into a second bedroom for Dudley. And even then it's unlikely that he'd be in the house. It's still summer holiday."
Hermione seemed to consider this for a moment, and then, it what seemed to be against her better judgement, agreed. "Fine, then. But we should at least let them know we're coming, Harry."
"And give them a chance to say no? Then my protection ends a day early," Harry stated. "No. We just literally pop in, ask her what we need to know, and then leave."
"What if it takes more than a day to get her to cave?" asked Ron. "I mean, hell, she's kept quiet for almost, what, sixteen years?"
Ron had an excellent point, and they had promised Mrs. Weasley that they would be back tomorrow. "Then we'll just have to put some of those protective spells we've been learning to use and ward the house," Harry said, gravely. "I don't know what else to do."
Hermione and Ron exchanged looks and then nodded resolutely. Harry looked at the clock before remembering that it didn't tell the time.
"I think it's around 9:30," Hermione told him. Harry sighed, fingering the locket again.
"I guess we'd better get going."
"Well," said Harry, once the three of them Apparated (Harry side-long with Hermione) into his old bedroom at Number Four. "They didn't waste any time, did they?"
Hermione looked around open-mouthed, while Ron just looked confused.
"They turned your room into a torture chamber?" he asked.
Harry laughed out loud. "No! They're not-they're not for torture, Ron. They're exercise machines. Amusing, really . . . I don't think I've seen Dudley exercise a day in his life. Well, I guess you could count all the times he chased me around trying to beat me up."
"Didn't you say he was into boxing?" Hermione asked, indicating a stand equipped with a heavy bag.
"Yeah. Leave it to the Dursley's to buy a million things he'll never use. If Dudley sets foot on that treadmill, I'll break my wand and live like a Muggle."
Ron was still looking at the equipment with trepidation. Better get this over with, Harry thought. The sooner I talk to Aunt Petunia, the sooner I can leave. Again.
"Come on, we'd better go downstairs," Harry said, leading the way to the door. The three of them walked downstairs, Harry in half a mind to yell "Surprise!", and saw that the living room was empty. Harry shrugged, and went into the kitchen, and then into the back garden. He came back inside and shrugged again.
"Must not be home."
Hermione bit her lip. "Hadn't planned on that. When do you think they'll be back?"
"Dunno. It's not like I know where they went," Harry pointed out, flopping down on the couch. Ron followed suite. "I guess we'll just have to wait."
Hermione nodded and sat down in the armchair across from the two boys. Harry found the remote, turned on the TV (which almost made Ron jump halfway out of his seat), and found some cartoons, while Hermione took in their surroundings.
"They're very clean," she said. Harry snorted.
"Wonder if they've got anything to eat," Ron said, looking hopefully back over at the refrigerator.
Hermione stared at him incredulously. "You had five pancakes and six pieces of sausage for breakfast!"
"So?" asked Ron. Hermione just rolled her eyes. Ron turned to Harry. "Do you think they'll mind?"
"Yes," Harry answered truthfully. "But who cares?"
They dug around in the Dursley's kitchen and found something to eat for lunch, and watched some more TV. ("It's like the portraits we have, only they're trapped in that box and can't talk to you," Ron said). Harry dared him to try the elliptical machine upstairs, and he and Hermione got their entertainment for the day watching Ron try (and fail) to get on it and then figure out how it worked. When he finally did, he was so startled by the sudden movement he almost fell off.
Later on that evening, the Dursley's still hadn't returned, and Harry was getting worried. It was a little past six o'clock, and they had ordered a pizza (Hermione having, being the sensible one, brought some Muggle money). They were sitting at the kitchen table, reminiscing about school, when the front door opened and Harry heard a familiar voice yell:
"What the devil!"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked up to see Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley standing in the hall between the front door and the kitchen. Harry, pizza halfway into his mouth, just waved and said, "Hi."
Uncle Vernon was furious. His face had already gone purple, and the vein in his forehead was going. Aunt Petunia looked shocked, and Dudley just stared stupidly. He was in his boxing robes and looked like he had just come back from a match.
"I thought you'd left!" he yelled, pointing a finger at Harry.
"I did," Harry said. "That's what you call it when I move all my stuff somewhere else and live there for the past three weeks."
"What . . . the hell . . . do you think you're doing in my house, boy!" Uncle Vernon yelled. "How dare you! Trespassing! Petunia, phone the police!"
Hermione looked scandalized. "We didn't break in or anything, sir, we just Apparated-"
Uncle Vernon waved his hands wildly at her. "No! I will not have any more talk of that unnaturalness in my house! We are done with it!" He reeled on Harry. "I thought you were gone. What do you mean by it, showing up here? You have a lot of nerve, boy, a lot of nerve." His eyes went to the pizza, and then they swept over to the living room, where the TV was still on and there were still some remnants of that day's lunch. "Just what do you think you're doing?"
Oh, boy, Harry thought, tiredly. He was prepared for this; he'd dealt with it for as long as he could remember. Ron and Hermione, however, were looking at Uncle Vernon as if he were some escaped mental patient.
"I came to talk to her," Harry stated, nodding his head at Aunt Petunia. She hadn't moved since seeing the three of them at her kitchen table. "I think she has some things she needs to tell me."
Uncle Vernon bristled. "Petunia has nothing to say to you!"
"That's . . . that's not exactly true, Vernon," Aunt Petunia said, very quietly. So quietly, in fact, that Harry barely heard her at all. But Uncle Vernon whirled, staring at her like he'd never seen her before. "What? What do you mean?"
She sighed and sent Harry a nasty, withering look. "I knew you'd come back, wanting answers. Especially after that slip up about her wedding."
"Yeah, that's right," Harry said, unwaveringly. Ron and Hermione watched the scene with bated breath. "You know more than you let on. More than you want to know, I'd wager."
Aunt Petunia sniffed haughtily. Uncle Vernon was still looking at her oddly. Apparently, this was news to him as well.
"What's he talking about Petunia?" he asked again. Dudley looked bored, and turned his attention instead to the half-eaten pizza on the kitchen table.
"You gonna eat the rest of that?" he asked Ron.
Ron shoved the rest of the pizza forward, and Dudley grabbed it, taking it into the living room and plopping down on the sofa.
Aunt Petunia looked uncomfortable now, and she kept glancing from Harry to Uncle Vernon. "Why should I explain anything to you? Maybe there are some things that need to be left well enough alone."
"Anything to do with my parents isn't one of them," Harry argued. "You said Snape was at my parents wedding. Why? And that Howler . . . it said 'Remember my last'. How long were you in correspondence with Dumbledore before the night he brought me here?"
Aunt Petunia was fidgeting now. "I don't think this is something we should be discussing-"
"Ron and Hermione aren't leaving," Harry said, shortly. "They're my best friends, and they're going to help me win this war against Voldemort. And I don't think Uncle Vernon should leave either. It seems to me that he's been kept in the dark just as much as I have." Harry sighed. "I know you don't like us: me, Ron and Hermione, wizards, magic, the whole lot of it. But if you know something . . . something that might help . . . I need to know. You knew what Voldemort being back meant two years ago. You seemed to understand that Dumbledore being dead was going to make everything a lot worse. Well . . . I'm the only one who can stop Voldemort." He ignored Uncle Vernon's derisive snort. "You let me stay here for sixteen years. You didn't want me here; that was pretty obvious. So what made you do it? What happened to make you understand what was going on?"
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Uncle Vernon all stared at her, waiting. Realizing there was no getting out of this, Aunt Petunia sighed, suddenly looking very tired. "I supposed there's no getting around it, is there?" When no one answered, she sighed again and pulled out a chair, sitting down.
"Yes. Snape was at her wedding-" she began, but Harry cut her off.
"One thing before we get into this: she had a name. It was Lily. She had red hair, and green eyes like mine, and she was good at Charms and Potions." He gave her a meaningful look. "Use her name. She was your sister, whether you like it or not."
Aunt Petunia's eyes hardened for a moment, but then she nodded. "I honestly don't see why this is so important, and as I told you before, it seemed the only reason he showed up was to tell her . . . was to tell Lily . . . not to . . . not to marry James," she began, sounding as if speaking her sister and brother-in-law's name was some kind of terrible burden. "Vernon and I had just recently gotten married ourselves. I only went, as I said before, because my parents were very . . . proud . . . of Lily and told me they would never forgive me if I didn't support my sister and come to her wedding. They never cared about the magic. They never cared that she would amount to nothing in the real world. They were very open-minded, my parents. Very supportive. They always wanted Lily and me to be whatever we wanted." She took a breath, as if centering herself, and started again:
"It was before the ceremony. James and that idiotic friend of his . . . Padfoot he was always calling him. They were inside the church with my parents and the guests. I was helping Lily get ready in a little dressing room they had set up for her in the back. All those so-called powers and she couldn't get that damn veil to stay on her head.
"Anyway, we ran out of hair pins, and I knew that my mother had brought extra, so I left to go get them. When I got back, I saw that the door was half-open, and I could hear a man's voice. At first I thought it was James, but I knew that couldn't be right because I had just seen him in the sanctuary. So, I snuck a bit closer and peaked in, and I saw a tall, gangly sort of man with awful black, stringy hair all in his face. He looked like he hadn't washed it in his entire life." She shuddered with the memory and Harry tried not to laugh. Aunt Petunia was certainly one of those who thought that cleanliness was next to godliness. "Lily called the man Severus. Horrible name. They were having some sort of argument, from what it sounded like. Lily said that he was being ridiculous and that he didn't have the right to come barging in right before her wedding. The man . . . Snape's his surname?"
Harry nodded.
"Yes. Snape said that she was the one being ridiculous, marrying someone like James, and that if she was at all concerned for her own safety, she would leave imeadiately. He mentioned those Dementor things. He told her that they were supposed to guard Azkaban, the Wizard prison, but that 'he' was trying to get them on his side," Aunt Petunia continued.
He must have been talking about Voldemort, Harry thought. Something else hit him as well, and he opened his mouth to say something, but his aunt had started again:
"He told her that she didn't want those things after her. Lily sounded afraid for a moment, and asked what he meant by it. And then he goes and says that James has been 'marked' and that she's putting herself in danger by marrying him, and that if he was any sort of man, he wouldn't put her in that position. Well, that started Lily off, and they started yelling about James. Snape was saying how he wasn't good enough for her, and Lily just kept going on and on about how he hated James and refused to give him a chance." Aunt Petunia had a look on her face that clearly said she agreed with Snape's view. Harry scowled.
"And . . . ?" he prompted.
Aunt Petunia pursed her lips. "This isn't easy, you know. You're lucky I'm even doing it at all. I could have phoned the police, like Vernon said." At the mention of her husbands name, she turned to regard him for a moment. Uncle Vernon had sat down at the table as well, and was listening to his wife with a look of interested horror on his face. "As I was saying," she said, turning back to Harry, "Snape was trying to make Lily leave while she could, saying that he could try and persuade certain people. He could tell them that she would be useful. Something about Charms and Potions, like you said earlier. Lily got awfully quiet then. She started trying to back away from him, asking if he was one of 'them' now. Snape got very quiet then, too, and said that he was there only out of concern for her. Lily moved off somewhere into the room where I couldn't see anymore and Snape followed. It was quiet for a long time, and then Lily said something that I couldn't hear. Then Snape asked her if that was her choice. He sounded . . . not angry, but . . . sort of sad. Kind of resolved. Anyway, Lily says yes and goes on about how she loves James and that 'for better or for worse' started then." Aunt Petunia rolled her eyes. "And then Snape just walks out, very nearly hitting me with the door. He kind of . . . sneered at me and then he left." She shrugged. "I went back in and Lily looked flustered and upset. I asked her what that was all about, and she just kind of looked at me for a moment before saying she was just catching up with an old friend." Aunt Petunia threw up her hands. "And that's it."
Harry stared. "So, he came to warn my mum about the Dementors? He thought that Voldemort was going to send them after her and my dad.But . . . why would he care? It still doesn't make any sense! He called her a Mudblood! Why would he-"
"I don't know," Aunt Petunia snapped. "That was the first and last time I saw him. And all I have to say about it is that it sounded like he knew what he was talking about, and she should have listened to him. Not three days after the wedding, they found . . . they found my parents. Our parents. Just lying in their house."
Oh, no . . . "Avada Kedavra," Harry whispered. "The Killing Curse. It leaves no marks . . . " He looked at his aunt curiously. "That's the real reason you never spoke to her again, isn't it?"
"I didn't speak to her much to begin with after she got that letter," sniffed Aunt Petunia.
"But that's what finally did it. You blame her. Because Snape warned her that marrying my dad was a bad idea. That he was already marked for death by Voldemort."
"It sounded as if Snape was trying to recruit her," Hermione stated and Harry jumped. He almost forgot she and Ron where there, they had been so quiet. "Saying how he could persuade people that she would be useful because she was so good at Potions and Charms. She . . . she defied him," she added quietly.
"He warned her!" Aunt Petunia shouted, suddenly. "And she married him anyway! That idiot was bad news from the beginning, always going on about something called Quidditch and ruffling his hair. Snape used the word 'blood traitor', I remember that now. He told her Voldemort had him marked because he was a blood traitor. She married him and they died! And she tried to stand up for him afterward! Saying that it wasn't his fault-"
"It wasn't! Voldemort kills whoever he wants to," Harry said, hotly. "Look, Voldemort just got mad that my mum 'defied' him, or whatever . . . Oh . . . Oh, my God . . . " Born to those who have thrice defied him . . . "That was the first one. Them getting married."
Everyone was looking at him very strangely. He didn't care. Things were starting to slowly, ever so slowly, click into place. "So, Snape shows up, tells my mum she's pretty much a right idiot for marrying my dad, storms off, and then three days later your parents are killed." He looked toward Ron and Hermione. "You don't think he had anything to do with it, do you?"
Ron shrugged, but Hermione answered: "You saw his confessional for yourself, Harry. It doesn't mention anything about that."
Right, 'cause it's not like Snape's never lied before, Harry thought, sarcastically. He turned his attention back to his aunt. "He was the one you meant two years ago, when you said you heard 'that awful boy' telling my mum about them. The Dementors. That's how you knew about them, from listening when he came to see her at the wedding. I thought you meant my dad." Another thought struck him, and he reflexively gripped the locket in his hand. "Or was I meant to?"
Aunt Petunia shifted uncomfortably again. Uncle Vernon was staring at her, wide-eyed. "I really don't want to go through this again," he muttered.
Harry looked at him. "Go through what?"
"Talking," humphed Uncle Vernon. "About those letters. I remember when they arrived, nearly frightened Petunia half to death. They just . . . just appeared out of nowhere. In a kind of flame."
Fawkes, thought Harry. "Dumbledore started writing to you because of the prophecy, didn't he? Because of what Snape told Voldemort."
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia stared. "What are you on about?" his uncle demanded. "What's this rubbish about a-a prophecy? Fortune telling doesn't exist!"
"Right. Just like magic," Harry said, sardonically. Uncle Vernon glared.
"I had wondered . . . " Aunt Petunia began. "Later on, in one of the letters he sent . . . " she trailed off, looking at Harry, amusingly, like a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar. "Yes. Dumbledore and I had . . . correspondence. A few months after you were born - Dudley was one - I began receiving letters from someone named Albus Dumbledore. I knew where they came from, and what he had to be, so I ignored them at first, like we did with your school letters. But after the third time, the letter came with a warning," she explained. "He said that the people who killed my - Lily and I's - parents were now after her . . . after you. He said they managed to escape Voldemort a number of times already, but that he was concerned that their time was running out. He said that no matter what I thought or felt about Lily that you were my nephew, and an innocent." She sighed.
"I wrote back, eventually. Vernon warned me not to. But I was curious about what all this had to do with me. Dumbledore said that 'recent events' had taken place that put you, and Lily and James, in great danger. He said that if anything happened to them that it would be up to me to protect you. He must have meant that prophecy." She regarded Harry for a moment, and there was something in her eyes that he did not like. It was the same look that she got whenever she heard a good bit of gossip. "What did it say?"
Harry scowled. "I thought it was all rubbish," he said, shooting a look at Uncle Vernon.
"I'm telling you everything you need to know," Aunt Petunia pointed out. "I think I have a right. Dumbledore never explained anything properly. It was really quite annoying."
Harry almost smiled. He could just picture the letters in all their ambiguousness, almost see the twinkle in Dumbledore's eye as he wrote them, popping lemon drops. "There was a prophecy made," Harry began, slowly, "the year before I was born, that said that the person who would defeat Voldemort would be born at the end of July, to parents that had defied Voldemort three times. Once July rolled around, it applied to both me, and one other person. Voldemort eventually settled on me being the person that the prophecy was talking about."
"Why?" asked Uncle Vernon. "You're nothing special."
Harry ignored the last part, but Ron and Hermione scowled. "You have no idea what Harry can do, you-" Ron began, riling up, but Harry put a hand on his shoulder.
"It doesn't matter." Turning back to his Aunt and Uncle, he answered: "Dumbledore figured it's because both Voldemort and I are half-bloods." At the blank look on his relatives' faces, he explained, "My mother was Muggle-born and my father was a full Wizard. His father was Muggle, and his mother was a witch. The other person . . . Neville . . . his parents were both pure-bloods."
"It came true, though," Uncle Vernon, realized. "When your parents died . . . You survived and he went away, too, right?"
"Er . . . not exactly," Harry said. "This is where it starts getting complicated."
"Oh!" Uncle Vernon yelled. "This is where it starts getting complicated, is it? Because it's been perfectly understandable up until now!"
Harry sighed. Trust Uncle Vernon to make things that more difficult. "Will you stop?" he said, angrily. "Do you want to know, or not?"
Hermione was giving him a pointed look. "Harry, I really don't think this is a good idea. If Voldemort-"
"Voldemort knows there's no love lost between me and the Dursleys," Harry said, bluntly. "I honestly don't think he'd give attacking here a second thought."
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's eyes doubled to almost twice their normal size upon hearing this information. "What-what do you mean . . . attack . . . ?" Aunt Petunia sputtered.
"Voldemort's been inside my head," Harry said. "And I'm sure Snape's told him loads about me: how I act, what he knows about my family . . . and Snape's seen more memories of this place than even I'd care to remember. I really think you should be safe."
The Dursleys exchanged glances. Aunt Petunia still looked uneasy; Uncle Vernon looked enraged. "Now, wait just a damn minute! We weren't informed of any of this when we took you in! Now you're telling us that our lives might be at stake? What the hell did that old codger get us into!"
Aunt Petunia regarded Harry again. "What's the . . . complicated . . . bit?"
Harry shifted in his seat. Ron gave him an encouraging nod, but Hermione still looked doubtful. "Well . . . the thing is Voldemort only heard half of the prophecy. Or, I should say, Snape only heard half of it, and told Voldemort. The rest of it said that Voldemort would mark the person . . . me . . . as his 'equal', and that I would have a power that he doesn't have or understand, and-" Harry swallowed.
"And that one of us has got to, er, kill the other, because we can't survive while either of us is still alive," he finished.
"This is insane," Uncle Vernon muttered.
"I'm not making it up!" shouted Harry. "I wish I was! Do you know that's the reason that my parents are dead? You're right. It is insane. And Voldemort's insane for believing it. But he did. And now, because he set the first part in motion sixteen years ago, I've got to try and finish it now."
Aunt Petunia had covered her mouth with her hand, seeming momentarily shocked. Harry gave her a wry smile. "Congratulations. Your nephew is the Chosen One," he said, sarcastically.
"And-and Lily . . . she was involved in all of this, too? Fighting Voldemort?" Aunt Petunia asked.
"Yeah. See, what you two never understood is that not all magic is bad. But there are Dark Wizards. And he's one of them. Probably the worst that there's ever been."
Aunt Petunia nodded. "Dumbledore mentioned someone named Grindelwald - like I was supposed to know. He said . . . he said that he surpassed even him. I took that as being bad."
Harry nodded. "Um . . . yeah, I'd think so."
"Grindelwald was responsible for . . . " Hermione began, but, seeing the look on both Ron and Harry's faces, quieted down again.
"What else did Dumbledore say?" Harry asked. "Did he, er . . . did he mention anything about Snape?" Hermione shot him a look, which he ignored. "You were at the bit where Dumbledore said it would be up to you to protect me," he prompted.
Aunt Petunia cleared her throat. "Yes . . . well, I wrote to him and said he was completely out of his mind, and that I couldn't be expected to protect someone . . . well, someone like you. I had no powers. How was I supposed to keep you safe from something when even Lily and James might not be able to? But all Dumbledore said was that he had 'something up his sleeve'. Well, I pretty much wrote him off as completely mad after that point and never replied to him again. But, he kept me updated about them - Lily and James, I mean - and then he wrote saying that they had come up with a plan, and were going into hiding. But he said that the spell that they had used prohibited him from telling me where they were, and that they had entrusted their secret to a dear friend." She suddenly looked very angry. "And then the next day I find you on my doorstep with one final note from Dumbledore telling me about this 'blood bond charm' nonsense, and that was it!"
"Yeah," Harry said, wistfully. "Their plan didn't exactly work out."
"Obviously," Aunt Petunia sniffed.
That is getting really annoying, thought Harry.
"And the rest, as they say, is history," Hermione quipped. "Now he's back, and the prophecy needs to be fulfilled."
"This is all bloody nonsense!" Uncle Vernon ranted, coming up out of his chair. "We swore to put and end to it when we took you in, but no, it was off to that crackpot school anyway! It was enough that Petunia's sister was one of them, but then her nephew - my nephew - has to be the damn patron of the Free the Wizarding World campaign! What is this Voldemort person, anyway? Why is all this happening? Somebody better explain!" He was breathing hard, eyes wide, face red, vein pulsing, and mustache twitching. He seemed well on the way to being at the end of his rope.
"Voldemort is a Dark Wizard," Hermione explained. "His name used to be Tom Riddle, and he went to Hogwarts fifty years ago. His mother was a witch, as Harry said, who was one of the decedents of the people that founded our school. His father was a Muggle." She looked at Harry, who continued:
"His father left when he found out that Merope - that was his mum's name - was a witch. And she died giving birth to him. He hates the Muggle part of his heritage, and his whole scheme is what he calls the purification of the Wizarding race. Which means Muggle-borns, like Hermione; blood-traitors, who are pure-blooded wizards who disagree with him, basically, or who've married a Muggle or Muggle-born; and half-bloods, like himself, need to be wiped out. And he wants to take as many Muggles with them as he can, too."
Uncle Vernon stared blankly. "So, he's some sort of magical Hitler?"
"That's pretty accurate, yes," Hermione answered. "All the killings lately . . . I'm assuming you've been paying attention to the news . . . they're all Voldemort and his followers. They're called Death Eaters."
Aunt Petunia nodded. "That's what Dumbledore called them. Things like this happened before. Vernon . . . you remember."
It seemed he was trying not to. "I didn't want to be dragged into this," he admitted. "I would have been perfectly content with the wild stories that the news came up with. But, because of your family . . . I knew what was really going on. Which is why, boy, we never wanted it in our house to begin with."
"I've already told you that not all magic is bad," Harry said, starting to get angry again. "You're just prejudiced."
Uncle Vernon snorted.
Harry looked at him very oddly then. "What if Aunt Petunia had been a witch?" he asked.
Uncle Vernon seemed very taken aback. "What?"
"What if she had been like my mum? Would you have stuck around? What if Dudley had been magic, too?"
Hermione's eyes widened. "Harry, that's not-"
"That's neither here nor there!" Uncle Vernon bellowed, finishing Hermione's sentence.
"But I think it is," Harry said, firmly.
Uncle Vernon narrowed his eyes. "How dare you! I love Petunia! And Dudders!"
"That doesn't answer the question. If Aunt Petunia had turned out to be a witch, like my mum, and that meant that any children you had might be a witch or wizard, too, would that have changed anything?"
Uncle Vernon remained silent for a long time. Finally, he got up, and said, quietly, "I'm going upstairs." Then he turned and stalked out of the kitchen. Dudley eyed him from his spot on the sofa, the pizza apparently gone. Ron shook his head in disgust, and Hermione was still staring at Harry in wide-eyed astonishment. But Harry was looking at his aunt. She didn't move, or speak. She didn't look angry, nor did she look sad. She just looked, as before, very, very tired. And Harry realized, for the first time, how much of a toll the prophecy, and the war, had affected his family. All of his family. He looked around the house he had been forced to call home, over at the mess that still remained in the living room, and at the empty pizza box that Dudley had discarded on the floor. Then he turned back to his aunt.
"Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked.
She sighed, pursing her lips. "What now?"
"I was just wondering," he began, "if you still kept the vacuum in the upstairs closet?"
Harry thought he at least owed his aunt one last housecleaning; it was what he was best at, while living there, after all. Only this time, he had the added help of Ron and Hermione. They had all waged a cleaning war on Grimmauld Place, and Harry knew this would be considerably easier. Ron wasn't too keen at first, still angry at Uncle Vernon's remarks, but he did his share for Harry's sake. He put Ron in charge of dusting, because he wasn't sure how his friend would react to the vacuum. He agreed to not use magic, albeit grumpily, but Harry swore he saw him try and manage a few nonverbal Scourgifies when he thought Harry and Hermione weren't looking. It took them two hours, but the downstairs looked exactly as it had when they arrived. Aunt Petunia didn't thank them; Harry hadn't expected her to. She had taken herself and Dudley upstairs and hadn't come back down since. It was now past ten, and Ron and Hermione - both physically and mentally exhausted after the day's events - had collapsed on the couches and fallen asleep. Harry was fighting off sleep himself.
We really should get out of here, he thought. Come midnight, it won't be safe . . .
A little rest won't hurt, he argued with himself. Mmmm . . . that armchair actually looks quite comfortable, really . . .
Suddenly, someone was shaking him. Hard.
"Harry, wake up!"
He was in the chair, legs draped over one of the arms. He didn't even remember falling asleep. He blinked, tiredly. "Wassamatter?" he asked.
Ron and Hermione were both standing over him, looking anxious and worried. His sleepiness was fading rapidly with the realization that something was wrong.
"What's the matter?" he asked again, but part of him knew it. He had been asleep. They'd all been asleep.They'd all been careless. He jumped out of the armchair, patting his pockets for his wand. It was on the coffee table. He didn't remember doing that either. I must have been really out of it. "What time is it?"
"11:55," Hermione whispered.
Oh, shit.
"Come on!" he said, racing toward the door. "It's dark. We won't be seen. We'll go outside so we won't wake them up. We don't have time to explain if we do."
He, Ron, and Hermione were halfway there when he realized that someone was already standing at the door. Harry's heart leapt into his throat and he raised his wand before he realized that it was the last person he expected.
Aunt Petunia was wide awake and waiting for him. "So," she said, arms crossed. "What are you going to do now?"
"I have to go," Harry said, ignoring her. "I have to go now. If I stay here a minute longer than I should . . . I don't want anything to happen to you. Any of you. Move."
She didn't. He glanced at Hermione's watch: 11:57.
"Move," he repeated again, leveling his wand at her. She didn't even blink. Harry was getting suspicious.
"I wanted to say," she started, glancing up the stairs. Harry figured she was checking for Uncle Vernon. "I wanted to say that . . . that I'm . . . I feel sorry, for some of the things we did."
Some? Harry thought, before the realization of what his aunt just said sunk in. She seemed to be doing that to him a lot lately. "What?" he asked, incredulously.
11:58.
Aunt Petunia grit her teeth. "I said I was sorry. Dumbledore was right; in both the letters, and in what he said when he came here last year. He trusted us to take care of you, and we did, but . . . you're my sister's son."
Harry was suddenly filled with paranoid thoughts of Polyjuice and the Imperius, before realizing that Voldemort would never have bothered with such extreme measures this close to his birthday.
11:59.
Harry motioned for Ron and Hermione to go ahead outside. Wands out, they obeyed, leaving the door open for him.
"We're going to try to ward the house, just in case," Harry said to his aunt. "If they think that you care about me or something . . . if they get the wrong idea . . . " He didn't finish, but Aunt Petunia got the hint.
"Go," she said. He nodded, showing her that he understood what she was trying to say and was grateful, and then turned and to walk out the door.
"Harry," Aunt Petunia said, suddenly.
He turned, well prepared to tell her off this time, before realizing that she had said his given name. She bit her lip with her horsey front teeth, shoved something roughly into his hand, and pushed him out the door. He shut it, wondering what that was all about, and made to tell Hermione and Ron to try out some of their new spells, just in case, when he backed right into the former, who was frozen in place. She spoke his name in a frightened whisper, and Harry didn't even have to turn around to understand why. Ron was next to her, gripping her hand tightly. Harry glanced at Hermione's watch again before turning to stand with his two friends.
"Well," a high, cold voice said. "Happy birthday, Harry."
12:01.