Chapter One - For Lily

"When life takes its own course, sometimes we just don't get to choose."

– (Already Home) A Great Big World

A/N: This story starts during the summer after the fifth book, The Order of the Phoenix. I hope you liked this first chapter and let me know what you all think!Trigger warnings on Cutting, Depression, and Abuse.

So if you're wondering why you've received an update to Already Home after it being completed for so long and also has a sequel, that's because I've rewritten and updated the whole story. I am now officially done and I really hope you guys like it. Please let me know what you think about the new version, and if the story is still terrible, well I'm still very proud of it lol

-Chase'sGirl19 3/31/23

In the house of number four, Privet Drive, everyone was soundly asleep, except for Harry Potter who tossed and turned in his sleep. Ever since he had returned from Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry for the summer holidays, Harry had been plagued by the same nightmares. Nightmares of his beloved godfather, Sirius Black, being hit with green light and falling through the veil, the light in his blue-gray eyes fading away, leaving Harry behind and screaming until he would wake up, drenched in sweat, gasping for breath... And the only way to calm himself down was to cut into his skin until it numbed the pain and guilt, until all Harry could feel was the normal, heavy weight of depression that he was constantly buried under...

.

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It was a hot morning of the third week of summer vacation when Harry awoke from a long night of nightmares and cutting. He reached over for his glasses, putting them on so the walls of his tiny bedroom came into focus. The sudden burn on his arm from his movement reminded Harry of the hard night he had. He pulled up his sleeve and examined the damage he inflicted on himself, feeling sudden shame. The cuts were long and fresh, Harry felt them gingerly with his fingers, aggravating the raw flesh, causing blood to well up and stream down and around his arm.

What did I do to myself? Harry thought, and warm tears began to well up in his eyes and roll down his cheeks. He wiped them away as shame and anger made his body shake.

He picked up an old shirt from the floor and wrapped his arm in it, applying pressure on the cut so it could stop the bleeding. Harry hated doing this, but cutting was the only thing that helped when the emotions of grief and pain overwhelmed him, choking him. And cutting was what released that pressure, and gave Harry a physical pain to distract himself from the internal storm going on inside him.

"Potter!" Aunt Petunia screeched, followed by her bony knuckles tapping at his bedroom door.

Harry flinched, startled at the sudden noise. He lifted up the shirt to check on his cut, the bleeding stopped, the skin raw and red.

"Are you awake, boy?!" Aunt Petunia screeched again. She banged the door with her broomstick. The noise was so loud and annoying, Harry couldn't go back to sleep even if he tried. With a spark of annoyance, he got up and began to look for some clean clothes.

"Potter!"

"I'm awake!" Harry shouted, making sure his cuts were hidden underneath his sleeve.

Aunt Petunia opened the door and wrinkled her nose at the mess called Harry's room. "Come down and start breakfast before your uncle wakes up, unless you want to have a bad start with him this morning," she ordered. She was about to turn around and close the door when she added, "And clean this room after your chores today!" She gave her nephew a disapproving glare as she shut the door and left.

Harry sighed and followed her out of the room and downstairs to the kitchen. It looked like it was going to be another day full of chores, which for once Harry didn't mind because it distracted him from thoughts on his godfather and the grief of losing him. Harry started cooking breakfast while his aunt began to clean the countertops and the table. It was her pre-breakfast scrub down while Harry cooked. It was a routine that happened every morning since the summer started. A routine they followed in silence as Aunt Petunia ignored Harry, only speaking to him if she caught him cooking something the wrong way.

What Harry didn't know was that during these morning routines, Petunia was observing him. She had noticed how depressed the boy looked when he'd returned from his school. He was so withdrawn and quiet. Harry made no attempt to cleverly insult or laugh at Dudley like he usually did. Petunia also realized that Harry did not even try to dodge Vernon's blows like he normally would during a punishment. Now he just took the punches with a quiet demeanor, face void of any expression or feeling, as if he were just waiting for Vernon to finish. The boy did not even eat anymore, he was losing weight. He only played with the little food he was given until it was time for him to clear the table.

Petunia knew something must've happened at that school, something serious and important to affect her nephew this way. Whatever that may be, she hoped her family didn't get caught up in its mess. She was tired of Harry bringing trouble to her home. Ever since he was dropped on her and Vernon's doorstep, he's caused them nothing but grief and hardship. He was a horrid baby, always making strange things happen, always making her Dudders cry. He was a nasty little thing, and being her sister's son didn't stop Petunia from hating Harry.

Despite Harry clearly being in trouble, Petunia didn't want to know why. She didn't want to get mixed up in the troubles of his lot and end up dead like the rest of her family had. They used to be obsessed with Lily, just because she could do strange things, and then she went off to that school and became everyone's favorite, while Petunia was ignored and ordinary. The aged old feelings of jealousy and childhood pain squashed any sympathy Petunia might've once felt for Harry, and when she took him in, Petunia promised she wouldn't be blinded by the wonder of magic like her parents were. Unlike her parents, she was aware of the danger, and suddenly Petunia realized that she couldn't ignore the magical world. She had to be aware of what was going on in order to protect her son, even if that meant going against all of her instincts to ignore her troublesome nephew and his lot. Petunia had to find out what was wrong with him, only to keep her family safe.

While Petunia was lost in her bitter thoughts, Harry began to set the table and serve the food when Vernon came in with the morning paper. Petunia served her husband a cup of coffee before she sat down. Her Dudleykins came into the kitchen, managing to shove his cousin hard in the ribs before sitting down to his plate of food and began eating. Petunia was so proud of her son for eating and keeping up his strength. To her displeasure, she noticed how Harry was only nibbling on a piece of toast, his face tinged with green as he waited for Vernon to give him his list of chores.

"What are you doing today, Dudders?" Vernon asked as he unfolded his newspaper.

Dudley shrugged, "I might go to Piers' house, I dunno," he mumbled with his mouth full of food.

"That's it, Dudley! Spend as much time as you can with your friends, being popular is very important at your age! It's how you make connections, and connections are what will help you in your future. Connections and popularity and money, the three keys to your success, son! I hope you're listening, it's very important!" Vernon said, then glared at Harry who gave up trying to eat his piece of toast. Vernon seemed annoyed that the boy wasn't paying attention like Dudley or reacting at all to his glare.

Petunia, noticing her husband's glare, snapped, "Start washing the dishes!" only to save the boy from Vernon's bad temper. She needed him to be well enough to answer her questions later. Petunia was planning a discussion tonight with the boy after his chores. Harry nodded and stood up, collecting dirty dishes and began washing.

After mindless small talk and gossip on Petunia's part, breakfast was over. Dudley left to watch T.V and Vernon began writing down a long list of chores for Harry before leaving to work.

The day dragged on for Harry as he painted the garden fence, weeded the garden, mowed the lawn, cleaned out the shed, washed the windows, pruned the roses, vacuumed every carpet inside the house, scrubbed down the entire bathroom, and helped his aunt with preparing dinner. He was so tired that after he cleaned his room, Harry threw himself on his bed and instantly fell asleep.

It wasn't long until Harry's nightmares began.

He could see the silhouettes of two people in the shadows. Their wands were pointed at each other, the red and green light blinded him. They were dueling. Harry recognized that laugh. That high pitched, crazy laugh, it belonged to Bellatrix Lestrange.

No, they cannot duel! Harry thought. Sirius is going to die! He ran down the steps towards his godfather. "Sirius!" Harry shouted. "Sirius!"

But an invisible force held Harry back and before he knew it, Sirius was falling with that blank, empty, look in his eyes. Bellatrix's laughter rang throughout the room, filling Harry's ears, until that was all he heard. It drove him crazy as Harry fought viciously to go after his godfather.

"Sirius!" Harry shouted, waking up with a start. His whole body was shaking as Harry looked around his room. He couldn't figure out why it hurt so much to breathe. Harry couldn't remember why he was back at Privet Drive. He was supposed to be with Sirius at Grimmauld Place!

The light came on in Harry's room, startling him even more. He didn't even notice that his Aunt Petunia had come into the room, until she sat next to him on the bed. She stared down at Harry with an annoyed, yet serious expression on her face.

"Mum, what's wrong with him?" Dudley asked.

"Dudley," she muttered. "Go downstairs and bring me a paper bag. Do not wake up your dad," she whispered. Her voice was low, demanding respect from Dudley to do as she ordered. Harry didn't see his cousin. He only heard his footsteps, the door opening and closing as his cousin followed Aunt Petunia's orders without complaint for the first time ever.

"Try and breathe," Petunia said, her voice awkward, her hands hesitant as she helped Harry sit up. This was foreign for both of them. Petunia never showed motherly affection towards Harry and so he had difficulty in following her directions. He couldn't breathe. He felt like his heart was going to explode. And all Harry could see was Sirius' blue eyes before he fell inside the veil.

It wasn't long before Dudley came back with the paper bag. "Thank you, Popkin, now go back to bed," Aunt Petunia said. Dudley looked as if he wanted to complain, but before he could start, Petunia said, "I'll let you go to that party you told me about with your friends on Saturday." Dudley frowned and left the room. Petunia put the paper bag to Harry's face and instructed him to breathe inside it. After a moment of inhaling and exhaling, Harry was finally able to breathe again.

"Can you tell me what brought this on, Harry?" Petunia asked, her voice still hesitant, as if she'll rather be doing anything else than be sitting here with Harry and asking that question. It raised suspicion and anger in him. Harry moved away from her, giving Petunia a look of surprise and deep loathing.

Harry didn't know why his aunt was trying to be nice all of a sudden, as if she suddenly cared. She had even addressed Harry by his name and not boy or Potter. Whatever Petunia's reason was for this strange behavior, Harry didn't trust her. He wasn't going to go and spill out all his secrets to this woman who'd made his childhood a living hell!

"I'm fine," Harry said, giving his aunt back the paper bag. "Thank you for this, I'm okay now. You can go back to bed."

Aunt Petunia frowned, and Harry knew he wasn't going to get away that easily.

"Listen, Potter!" Petunia snapped, losing her patience. "I know you don't trust me and the last thing you want to do is have this conversation. I noticed your behavior since you've arrived back from your school. I know you're depressed, you're not taking care of yourself. So that means something happened during term, and you need to tell me because I need to know if you're putting my family at risk by staying here."

Harry continued to glare at her, he knew it wasn't because she cared. Aunt Petunia's strange attempt to act nice towards him was just because she wanted to know if Voldemort and his Death Eaters were headed their way.

"You don't have to worry. I'm fine. I just had a nightmare. Everyone gets them. No one's coming to attack your precious son!"

"You've had nightmares every night for the last three weeks!" Aunt Petunia stated. "And you can't blame me for wanting to protect Dudley against your lot! Just tell me what happened! Vernon might want to act like your world doesn't exist and believe me I do too, but I know there's a chance of him coming back, the one who killed her and your dad. I can't pretend that world doesn't exist any longer when I know he might be coming here. You've marked my family for death, Potter, and the least you can do is tell me what's going on so I can be ready! I don't want my family and I to get blown up just like your parents!"

Utterly surprised and caught off guard at Aunt Petunia's words, Harry only looked at her. He knew he was always talking in his sleep or shouting out from his nightmares, but Harry always assumed that no one heard. Due to the fact that no one ever came in to yell at Harry for making too much noise in the middle of the night. Also, that was a low blow, to bring up his parents like that, to say they got blown up instead of dying while fighting, trying to protect their son!

But Aunt Petunia had a point, she was right, and Harry couldn't blame her. As soon as Dumbledore left him on that doorstep fifteen years ago, it marked the Dursleys for eventual death. The Dursleys were a target and it was Harry's fault. He suddenly understood why Petunia hated him. She was trying to run away from a world she barely understood, except that it was dangerous for her and her family, and Harry arriving on her doorstep, prevented her from forgetting. Harry was an everyday reminder that Voldemort might come back and finish what he'd started, killing all in his way.

"Look, I'm sorry… I didn't mean to wake you," Harry muttered as he laid back down, showing his aunt that he was ready to go back to bed. "And there's nothing to say, you won't understand."

"No, Potter, you're going to tell me what happened at your school! You owe me at least an explanation!"

Rage at the audacity of her statement made Harry lose his patience, causing him to snap out, "I owe you?!"

"Lower your voice! Vernon will hear you! And yes, you do! You think I may not understand, but I do know my family's marked for death because of you! We can get blown up for harboring your safety for the past fifteen years! I at least want to know if we have a fighting chance to leave when the time comes! And also, look at you! You're a mess! You're not eating or taking care of yourself. Like I've said before, it's clear you're depressed, that's why I know something has happened! You're killing yourself, Potter! And if you continue to carry on like this, I'm contacting that headmaster to get you because I'll not have you dying in my house! What will the neighbors think?"

"How tragic!" Harry shouted back. "That's the important thing to worry about, isn't it? Me killing myself in your home, what will the neighbors think? No matter if I've taken my own life, it's your family and your image that's before me!"

The look Petunia gave him was murderous and Harry could've kept going, but he was too tired. There was no point fighting for her affection. He knew she didn't care. Harry had given up trying to win her and Vernon's affection years ago. He just wanted to go to bed, and so Harry just gave Petunia the words she wanted to hear so they could make her leave.

"It's a long story, Aunt Petunia, and it's…it's complicated. You really don't understand, but if you must know as of right now, you're safe. As long as I'm allowed to return here every summer before I become of age, Voldemort and his followers can't touch you or your family. Trust me, you'll know when things get bad and when it does, Dumbledore will make sure you're in some nice, cozy safe house while the rest of us are out there fighting."

Petunia shook her head in defeat and snapped, "You ungrateful brat! Fine, if you won't tell me what the hell is wrong with you, then I have no choice but to take your word on the blood wards and Dumbledore making sure we're safe! You better be right, Potter!"

Harry shrugged, waiting for Aunt Petunia to leave.

"Potter, I also want to talk to you about your depression…" Petunia added, her voice low, as if she was worried someone outside was listening, ready to spread the juicy gossip.

Harry glared at her, taken aback by her words. He answered in disgust, "Why? I know you don't care so you don't have to try and pretend! Don't worry, I won't kill myself because then who else is going to finish Voldemort off? It's going to be me and him in the end, that's all I have to look forward to in my future so who cares if I'm depressed? There's no point in talking about it. And like I've said before, you don't even care as long as it's not in your house, right?"

Petunia tried her best to understand what her nephew just said to her. She may not know much of the wizarding world, but what Petunia did know was that a war was coming, and it was against the wizard that'd murdered her family and his name was Voldemort. The way Harry had talked about himself fighting against the evil wizard, it seemed as if he'd found out that he's been marked for death, had known for a while, and accepted it. The fact that Harry had to go through something like that... He must be so terrified! Petunia couldn't help but pity him for one small moment.

Petunia reached out a hand to her nephew, but she didn't know where to place it. Maybe on his shoulder? And for what? To comfort him? Like that would help... It wasn't natural of Petunia to treat Potter nicely, to be motherly towards him, and so she stopped herself. Petunia felt awkward and was unsure of what to say to him. For the first time since Lily's death, she wished her sister were here to help her child. Harry needed a mother, his mother, or someone who loved the boy as a son. That was something Petunia never felt with him, and so she couldn't be the one to offer such comfort to him or talk to him about this.

Harry noticed her outreached hand, then suddenly he met her eyes. And Petunia knew he could see her pity. He glared at her with the same green glare that was Lily's.

Harry flinched away from Petunia. "Don't touch me!" he shouted.

Petunia looked at her nephew, taken aback by his sudden anger. She was about to reprimand Harry for his disrespect, but then noticed his body shaking uncontrollably. Petunia was curious enough to ask why he was shaking. What was going on in his head? Then Petunia remembered she wasn't supposed to care.

Harry has always been weird and overdramatic, unable to control his emotions, Petunia thought, trying to reassure herself with the old excuses. But deep down, Petunia knew the real reason why her nephew was so closed off. She couldn't accept the truth, the truth being that Harry was closed off from her because of the way she and Vernon raised him. It was the fact that Harry didn't just want to talk to her, he couldn't talk to her.

After so many years of emotionally neglecting him, Harry grew up knowing that expressing his emotions was a huge NO for him. He grew up knowing if he was ever hurt or afraid, going to his aunt and uncle was against the rules. They did not want to hear it or be bothered. Petunia hated herself for doing that to her nephew, so much that she couldn't accept it. And so, she just let herself sink into her small delusional world, that Petunia and her husband did everything they could to protect the boy, but he was just so strange and uncontrollable. And that was why Harry was so closed off to them. Besides there was no point bothering him any longer, Petunia knew she was losing a battle. Harry was stubborn like his mother, and so there was no point in even trying to get him to open up.

"Have it your way! Go back to bed and keep it down! Vernon and Dudley are trying to sleep. There's no need for them to get involved with your problems!" Petunia snapped.

The boy just glared at her with green eyes that left her feeling unsettled. Petunia got up from the bed and left the bedroom, closing the door behind her. She hated how Harry looked at her like that. It was as if he knew that when he gave her that look, she wasn't seeing him but his mother. In those green depths, Petunia could feel Lily's disappointment in her for how she'd raised her son. She hated the guilt and the inner battle that green glare gave her, and when Harry looked at her like that, Petunia tried not to let an ounce of pity for him tamper with her hate for her nephew. Sometimes Petunia won, sometimes she lost. And tonight she had lost, shattering the delusional world of denial she had created in her mind.

This time it wasn't just the power of the green glare of her nephew that did it, but how Petunia was able to see Harry fighting against his emotions in front of her. Just from their talk, it confirmed her fears that Harry was depressed and closed in. He was going through something that traumatized him, and was holding everything in. Petunia knew that wasn't healthy. She wanted Harry to cry, scream, or hit the wall. Throw things across the room! Anything that would release his pain. And this was her fault... What would Lily say if she knew?

For the millionth time this summer, as she stood in the hallway, Petunia wondered what happened at that school to make her nephew act like this. She had no clue, making her realize just how out of touch she was with Harry's life. Petunia had no idea what he did during the year, if Harry had good marks, friends, or was in any clubs. She knew nothing about his life. Plus, Petunia's ignorance of the wizarding world was also holding her back from figuring out the answer to her question. The only thing Petunia could think of was the same reason why Harry ended up on her doorstep, that reason being Voldemort.

Could it be that he was the reason for Harry's behavior? She knew the evil wizard had been vanquished due to some protection spell Lily had provided for Harry. It was all in that letter fifteen years ago. Could it be that Voldemort was indeed back and that something terrible involving the dark wizard had happened during school term? Petunia didn't have to ask or confirm. She knew her guess was correct as she recalled what Harry had said, that there wasn't danger yet, but when it did come he was the one who was going to fight him, signaling his own mark for death. That might explain Harry's increasing depression, his change of attitude, his eating and sleeping habits, but Petunia still felt like she was missing something….

Suddenly a cold chill went through her, causing her to shiver, and Petunia had to sit down on the top step of the staircase. Voldemort is back... She shuddered again at the horror of what that would bring. Petunia sat there for a little over an hour, waiting for her nephew to go to sleep, thinking of their conversation. When she could finally hear Harry's heavy breathing, Petunia went back inside to check on him with Lily's green eyes on the forefront of her mind.

Petunia crept silently to her sleeping nephew's bedside, sitting at the edge of the bed. Guilt for what she learned about him tonight passed through her in waves, causing her body to shiver once more. Lily, she prayed. I'm sorry I've failed you, please don't be angry with me. I just wish you can understand why, and if you don't, I can't blame you. The only thing Petunia could think of to soften her guilt was to make sure Harry got the help he needed, but she had to figure out how, for this was beyond her. Harry was out of her reach. Petunia remembered when she lost her parents, how she couldn't eat or take care of herself, how depressed she was, nothing interested her. Petunia would just lie in bed crying for days, and she realized what she was missing. Harry had almost all of the same symptoms she had when she lost her parents. Harry lost someone, someone close, Petunia thought as she pulled the thin blanket over the boy. And that was when she saw them...

She let out a short intake of breath and gently held out Harry's arm to get a better look. Petunia couldn't believe what she was seeing. Long lines of fresh cuts on the underside of his left arm. And aside from those, there were visible scars, indicating that Harry had been doing that to himself for a while. It looked like it was done with a small knife. Petunia couldn't believe Harry was in this much pain to start cutting himself! He was practically committing suicide, hurting himself like that! What if one of those cuts were to get infected? What if Harry went too far one day? Petunia shuddered at the thought. She had to do something! She couldn't let Harry hurt himself again. She gently laid his arm back down, studying Harry's sleeping face. Even in sleep, the boy looked stressed.

Petunia knew this was a cry for help. Those cuts were deep enough to show her that Harry was possibly suicidal. What if he did go too far one day? And she found him bleeding out one morning and dying? How would Petunia explain that to the neighbors? What would she say to them when they peek out of their windows and crowd around her home to watch as they pick up the body? It has been bad enough that they knew Harry was a hooligan. They all believed the lie she and Vernon had spreaded about Harry attending St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. Then Petunia realized the neighbors were the least of her problems, because then how would she explain this to Albus Dumbledore? She shuttered at his ice-blue eyes and the power he'd radiated. Petunia had only met him once in her life and that was enough. She didn't need him back here. She had the safety of her family to think about, the safety of her Dudleykins was what snapped Petunia out of her panic. She took a deep breath and forced herself to think, but it was hard because she couldn't stop feeling guilty for Lily and what she might think of Petunia for allowing this to happen.

Petunia calmed herself down, chasing her sister out of her head. Petunia knew one thing, that she couldn't help Harry herself because she wasn't capable of having that love and bond for him. He would be a burden to her, always having to make sure he wasn't cutting. It was a big job and Petunia couldn't do it. She didn't love him. Harry needed to be with someone who loved him, but who? Petunia knew nothing of Harry's life and the people who were in it when he went off to that school.

As she thought about what she should do, Petunia decided to leave the room so she wouldn't wake the sleeping teen. She made sure the scars and cuts were hidden underneath his sleeve before she switched off the lamp, quietly leaving Harry's room.

Petunia couldn't go back to sleep, so she went downstairs and started mopping the kitchen floor. She loved cleaning. Not just for the satisfaction of killing the germs and filth but for the rhythmic, mindless, motion of the task. And that was what Petunia needed as she tried to think of a way to contact help for Harry.

Petunia couldn't just call the headmaster at the school or even pay him a visit. She had no idea where the school was. It was not hard to admit that he scared her. Petunia didn't want him here in her home, so close to her Dudley. Then a memory came to mind, a memory when she was a child, maybe twelve or thirteen. After Lily had gotten her acceptance letter to that school, Petunia had written a letter to the headmaster secretly using Lily's new owl.

Once Petunia finished up the mopping, she pulled out some paper and a pen, and began writing to the headmaster. She wrote about Harry's depression and the self-inflicted cuts she'd found on his arm. Since Harry was asleep, Petunia would be able to use his owl to send the letter. It took all she had to tell the headmaster to come to her home to pick up the boy, it was against every instinct in her body. Petunia didn't want him here, but it was the only way. She knew the headmaster would be upset at her neglect in caring for her nephew, but this time Petunia had to be brave. She had to do this, not only for the safety of her family, but for her sister. Yes, Petunia might've screwed up the way she raised Harry, but the least she could do was this one thing... Making sure Harry left Privet Drive and received the help and love he needed. He didn't belong here, not with her, and so Petunia finished her letter to Albus Dumbledore with the mantra: I'm doing this for you, Lily flower, repeating over and over in her head.