Harry stepped off the Hogwarts Express, his thoughts still swirling with the events of the past year. The memories of his encounters with Quirrell were vivid, and the presence of Jophiel had left an indelible mark on his mind. As he made his way through the bustling platform, his heart lightened at the sight of Daphne, Susan, and Hannah waving goodbye to him from a distance. He waved back, grateful for their unwavering friendship.

As he exited King's Cross Station, Harry's eyes widened in surprise. Standing there, amidst the crowd of Muggles and magical folk, was Hera, the Queen of the Gods. Her regal presence was unmistakable, her eyes shimmering with a power that seemed to draw the very light around her. Harry felt a mixture of awe and apprehension. What could the Queen of Olympus possibly want with him?

"Harry Potter," Hera's voice was both commanding and gentle, carrying an authority that left no room for doubt. "I have come to speak with you."

Harry approached her cautiously, bowing his head slightly in respect. "Lady Hera, to what do I owe the honor of your visit?"

Hera's eyes softened as she regarded him. "Rise, young hero. There is no need for formalities between us. I came to apologize."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "Apologize?" he echoed, confusion threading through his voice. "But why, Lady Hera?"

Hera sighed her expression a mix of regret and determination. "I have not been entirely supportive of you, Harry. I underestimated your importance and the burden you bear. My actions, or rather, inactions, have caused you undue hardship. For that, I am truly sorry."

Harry was taken aback. He had faced so much danger and adversity, but he had never expected an apology from a goddess, much less the Queen of Olympus. "Thank you," he said slowly, trying to process her words. "I appreciate your apology, but why now?"

Hera's gaze softened. "My mother has made me realize something. I treated you badly because I saw you as a bastard. Because your mother was a result of my husband's infidelity. But now I realized I was wrong."

Harry felt a rush of emotions at Hera's words. He had always been aware of the tensions and politics of the divine world, but hearing Hera admit her mistakes and offer an apology was unexpected. He took a deep breath, his mind racing to process the significance of this moment.

"Thank you, Lady Hera," Harry said, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of thoughts. "It means a lot to hear you say that. I know the relationships among the gods can be... complicated."

Hera nodded, her regal demeanour softening further. "Indeed, they can be. But I want you to know that from this moment forward, you have my support. You are not just a hero of this world, but of the divine realms as well. Your mother, Artemis, has always seen your potential, and now I see it too."

Harry felt a warmth spread through him at Hera's words. The support of the Queen of Olympus was no small thing. "Thank you, Lady Hera. I won't let you down."

Hera smiled, a genuine warmth in her eyes. "I know you won't, Harry. And please, call me Hera."

Harry nodded, feeling a sense of camaraderie with the goddess that he had never expected. "Thank you, Hera."

"Harry, where do you want to eat?" asked Hera.

Harry was taken aback by Hera's sudden question. The Queen of Olympus asked him where he wanted to eat. It was surreal.

"Uh, I'm not sure," Harry admitted, trying to think of a place that wouldn't seem too casual for a goddess. "There's a nice little café near here that has great food. Would that be alright?"

Hera smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "That sounds lovely, Harry. Lead the way."

As they walked through the busy streets of London, Harry couldn't help but steal glances at Hera. She blended in surprisingly well with the Muggles, her regal aura subdued but still undeniably present. People seemed to unconsciously give her space, sensing her power without realizing it.

They soon arrived at the café, a quaint little place with outdoor seating and a cozy atmosphere. Harry chose a table in a quiet corner, and they sat down. The waitress approached, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of Hera, but she quickly composed herself and took their orders.

Once they were settled, Harry looked at Hera, still trying to wrap his mind around the day's events. "So, what brings you to the mortal world, aside from apologizing to me?"

Hera just smiled. "I just want to get to know you better. You are after all an immortal heir to a goddess, and I do not want to be on your bad side. I was terrible to you in the past. And I want to make up for it."

Harry's eyes softened as he took in Hera's genuine expression. The Queen of Olympus wanting to make amends and know him better was not something he ever imagined happening. It was clear that this moment was important to her, and Harry was willing to give her a chance.

"Thank you, Hera," Harry said sincerely. "I appreciate that. I think getting to know each other sounds like a good idea."

Hera smiled, and the tension that had been lingering between them seemed to ease. They chatted about various things, from Harry's life at Hogwarts to his experiences with the magical world and the divine realm. Hera shared stories of Olympus, her relationships with the other gods, and the challenges she faced as the Queen of the Gods. Harry found himself captivated by her tales, realizing that despite her immense power, Hera had her struggles and complexities.

Their food arrived, and they continued to talk, the conversation flowing easily. Harry felt a sense of connection growing between them, a bridge being built over the chasm that had previously existed. Hera's warmth and sincerity were disarming, and Harry found himself opening up more than he expected.

As they finished their meal, Hera looked at Harry with a thoughtful expression. "Harry, there is one more thing I wanted to discuss with you."

Harry raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "What is it?"

Hera took a deep breath, her eyes filled with a mixture of determination and hope. "I know you wanted closure on how your uncle treated you. I know it has been six years since then, but do you want me to take you to get some closure?"

Harry was momentarily taken aback by Hera's offer. Closure on how his uncle treated him? It was something he had thought about often, but never in such a direct way. The pain and anger he harboured toward the Dursleys were deeply rooted, but the idea of facing them with the support of a goddess was intriguing.

He took a deep breath, his mind racing. "I... I think I do want that closure," he admitted, his voice steady despite the emotions churning within him. "I've carried that pain for so long. Maybe it's time to face it head-on."

Hera nodded, her expression understanding and supportive. "Very well, Harry. I will take you there, and I will be by your side. You deserve to confront your past and find peace."

Harry felt a surge of gratitude toward Hera. She was offering him a chance to confront his painful past, something he had always wanted but never dared to hope for. "Thank you, Hera. It means a lot to me."

With a nod, Hera extended her hand to Harry. "Then let's go. We have unfinished business to attend to."

Harry took her hand, feeling a sense of resolve wash over him. In an instant, they were enveloped in a shimmering light, and when it faded, they found themselves outside HM Prison Brixton where Vernon Dursley was serving his sentence.

Harry looked up at the imposing structure of HM Prison Brixton, feeling a mix of emotions swirl within him. The place had an aura of coldness and despair, fitting for a man like Vernon Dursley. Hera stood beside him, her presence radiating calm and strength.

"Are you ready?" Hera asked gently, her eyes full of understanding.

Harry nodded, taking a deep breath. "Yes, I'm ready."

They walked through the entrance, passing through security checks with ease. The guards seemed to instinctively sense Hera's authority and didn't question their presence. Soon, they were led to a small, sterile visitation room where Vernon Dursley was already waiting, his face pale and eyes wide with shock and fear as he recognized Harry.

"What are you doing here?" Vernon spat, his voice trembling with anger and underlying fear. "Haven't you done enough to ruin our lives?"

Harry felt a surge of anger but kept his voice calm and steady. "I'm here for closure, Vernon. You made my childhood a living hell, and I need to confront you about it."

Vernon sneered, but his bravado was clearly crumbling. "You were a freak. We tried to make you normal."

"By starving me? making me sleep in a cupboard? Making me cook all the food for you when I was tall enough to reach over the counter with a stool? All while I was fed mouldy bread and water?" asked Harry. What Harry did not know as he was speaking a few inmates who were having visitations were now looking at Vernon.

Vernon's face paled further, his bluster faltering. "We did what we had to do to keep you in line," he muttered weakly, but his eyes darted nervously to the side, aware of the growing attention from nearby inmates and guards.

Harry took a step closer, his voice low but firm. "You never saw me as a person. You saw me as a burden, something to control and punish. I never deserved the treatment you gave me, and deep down, you know that."

Vernon opened his mouth to retort, but Hera stepped forward, her presence commanding. "Vernon Dursley," she said, her voice carrying an otherworldly authority, "you will listen to Harry and understand the weight of your actions. You will not interrupt him again."

Vernon's mouth snapped shut, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and awe.

Harry took a deep breath, feeling the support of Hera beside him. "I was five when you were arrested, now I am eleven and now I see you have not changed a bit. I still have scars all over my body from each beating I received from you. But I have to say I am curious as to how you are basically unscathed in prison. I am going to guess the inmates do not know what you are in here for."

Vernon's face flushed red with anger and embarrassment. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unable to meet Harry's gaze. The growing murmurs from the surrounding inmates hinted that his secret might not remain hidden for long.

Harry's eyes narrowed as he continued, his voice steady. "You may have thought you were doing the right thing, but your actions were nothing short of abusive. I was a child who needed love and care, not punishment and neglect."

Vernon shifted again, his bravado crumbling further under Harry's unwavering stare. "You don't understand what it was like," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Harry's eyes flashed with anger. "You're right, I don't understand what it was like to be a grown man abusing a defenceless child. But I do understand what it was like to be that child, and it was a nightmare. Aunt Hera I am done here, I have gotten the closure I needed."

Harry turned away from Vernon, feeling a sense of closure wash over him. Hera placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, her presence a steadying force.

"You did well, Harry," she said softly, her eyes filled with pride. "Confronting your past is never easy, but you've shown great strength."

Harry nodded, taking a deep breath. "Thank you, Hera. I feel... lighter, somehow. Like a weight has been lifted."

Hera smiled warmly. "That's the power of facing your fears and seeking closure. Now, let's leave this place and find some peace."

(Line break)

The heavy iron door clanged shut behind Vernon Dursley as he was led back into the general population of the prison. The harsh fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting eerie shadows on the cold, concrete walls. His heart pounded in his chest, the confrontation with Harry still echoing in his mind. He barely noticed the other inmates around him, his thoughts consumed with a mixture of anger, fear, and humiliation.

As he walked down the narrow corridor, he felt a sudden, sharp grip on his shoulder. He spun around, eyes wide with panic, to see a towering inmate with a menacing sneer. The man's grip tightened, and Vernon's stomach churned with fear.

"You want to beat up on a five-year-old, starve him, lock him up in a cupboard, give him scars," said an inmate, loud enough for everyone to hear, his eyes blazing with fury. "Well why don't you fight me Someone who can fight back"

Vernon's face turned an alarming shade of white as the reality of his situation began to sink in. The surrounding inmates had picked up on the words, and a murmur of disgust spread through the crowd. He tried to pull away from the towering inmate, but the grip on his shoulder was unrelenting.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Vernon stammered, his voice weak and shaky. "It's all lies. That boy is crazy—"

"I remember you now," another inmate growled, stepping forward. "Six years ago, your entire family was on the news. You stole money from a five-year-old trust fund. You forced a five-year-old to do everything including power washing the driveway, and cooking for you, all while you fed him scraps and forced him to eat moulded bread. And it gets better, the child in question's grandfather was the most decorated soldier in World War 2 and his great-grandfather was the third most decorated soldier in World War I. The boy's parents died stopping a terrorist group"

Vernon's mind reeled as the inmates' words washed over him. The weight of their anger and disdain pressed down on him, a suffocating reminder of the past he had tried to hide. He felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead, his heart hammering in his chest.

The towering inmate leaned closer, his breath hot and rancid on Vernon's face. "You think you're tough, picking on a little kid? Let's see how tough you are now."

The surrounding inmates closed in, their faces grim and unforgiving. Vernon's terror was palpable, his bravado completely shattered. He tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go, no escape from the retribution he had long avoided.

"Please," Vernon begged, his voice cracking with desperation. "I-I didn't mean—"

A sharp blow to his stomach cut off his words, doubling him over in pain. The inmates' laughter rang in his ears, a cruel and mocking sound. Vernon fell to the cold concrete floor, gasping for breath, his vision blurring.

The towering inmate stood over him, his expression one of cold satisfaction. "Welcome to reality, Dursley. You're not in charge here. You're just another piece of trash."

As the other inmates continued their assault, Vernon's world dissolved into a haze of pain and fear. The years of cruelty and abuse he had inflicted on Harry had come full circle, leaving him at the mercy of those who despised him.

(Line Break)

Meanwhile, Harry and Hera emerged from the prison, the oppressive atmosphere giving way to the open air and the bright light of day. Harry took a deep breath, feeling a sense of liberation and closure.

"Thank you, Aunt Hera," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. "I needed that."

Hera smiled warmly at him. "You faced your past with courage, Harry. That takes immense strength. I'm proud of you."

Harry nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. "I feel... lighter. Like a weight has been lifted."

Hera placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Who do you want to see next? Marjorie Dursley who is in the woman's prison on the other side of the city of Petunia Dursley who is in a prison in Greece?"

Harry's brow furrowed in thought as he considered Hera's question. The idea of confronting his Aunt Marge or Aunt Petunia brought back a flood of memories, none of them pleasant. However, he knew that facing them would help him find the closure he sought.

"I think... Petunia," Harry said finally, his voice steady. "I want to understand why she treated me the way she did. Maybe it'll give me some answers."

Hera nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Very well. Greece it is. Petunia Dursley will be a different challenge, but I believe you are ready."

With a gentle touch, Hera took Harry's hand once more. The world around them blurred, and in an instant, they found themselves standing in front of a high-security prison in Greece. The architecture was stark and imposing, with thick stone walls and heavy iron gates.

As they approached the entrance, a guard stepped forward, his expression wary but respectful. Hera spoke briefly with him in fluent Greek, and the guard's demeanour shifted to one of deference. He led them through the security checks and into the visitor's section of the prison.

The heavy door clanged shut behind them as Harry and Hera stepped into the visitation area. The room was stark, with a few metal tables and chairs bolted to the floor. The air was filled with a low hum of conversations and the occasional clink of metal. Harry's heart pounded as they were led to a table where Petunia Dursley sat waiting, her face a mask of controlled emotions. She looked older and more haggard than Harry remembered, the years in prison clearly taking their toll.

Petunia's eyes widened slightly as she saw Harry, but she quickly masked her surprise with a cool, detached expression. "Harry," she said, her voice strained but steady. "What are you doing here?"

Harry took a deep breath, feeling Hera's reassuring presence beside him. "I needed to talk to you, Aunt Petunia. I need to understand why you treated me the way you did."

Petunia's eyes flickered with a mix of emotions—anger, guilt, and perhaps a trace of fear. She glanced at Hera, her eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge the goddess's presence.

Hera spoke softly, her voice calm but commanding. "Petunia Dursley, you will listen to Harry. He has come seeking answers, and you owe him the truth."

Petunia's gaze shifted back to Harry, her expression hardening. "You were a reminder," she said, her voice low and bitter. "A reminder of everything I lost when Lily chose to leave our world for the magical one. You were a reminder of the danger and chaos that comes with magic. It didn't help that you look exactly like Lily. And I was scared of Vernon and what he might do to Dudley. I know it's no excuse but-"

"I forgive you" interrupted Harry.

Petunia blinked, her steely façade cracking for a moment as she processed Harry's unexpected words. "You... forgive me?" she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry nodded, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and understanding. "Yes, I forgive you. I realize now that you were trapped in your own fears and pain, just like I was. It doesn't excuse what you did, but holding onto anger and resentment won't change the past. I need to move forward."

Petunia's eyes filled with tears she struggled to hold back. "I don't deserve your forgiveness," she murmured, her voice trembling. "I failed you in so many ways. I -"

She was cut off when Harry engulfed her in a hug. Petunia stiffened at first, unaccustomed to such a gesture from Harry. Slowly, she relaxed, her tears flowing freely. Harry held her tightly, feeling a mix of emotions—sadness, relief, and a strange sense of peace.

Harry nodded, feeling a sense of closure. As he embraced Petunia in a tight hug "Unlike Vernon. You feel regret, you never actually hit me you just didn't do anything. The most you did was verbal abuse."

Petunia clung to Harry, her sobs shaking her thin frame. For the first time, Harry felt the deep-rooted pain and regret that his aunt had hidden behind her cold exterior. After a few moments, Petunia pulled back, wiping her tears with trembling hands.

"I don't know how to make amends for everything," Petunia admitted, her voice hoarse. "But I want to try, Harry. If you'll let me."

Harry offered her a small, sincere smile. "Tell me something. Mom's twin Jocelyn Fairchild who is she other than she lives in the States?"

Petunia's eyes widened in surprise at Harry's question. She took a deep breath, clearly trying to gather her thoughts. "Jocelyn Fairchild... Yes, your mother had a twin sister. She was born just minutes after Lily. They were inseparable. Jocelyn was always the more adventurous one, the one who wanted to explore the world beyond our small town."

Harry listened intently, eager to learn more about this new piece of his family history.

"Jocelyn left for America not long after finishing school," Petunia continued. "She didn't want to be tied down, and she wanted to escape the magic that seemed to surround our family. I think she wanted a fresh start, away from everything. We didn't hear from her often, but we knew she was happy."

"Do you know what she does now?" Harry asked, his curiosity growing.

Petunia nodded slowly. "She married a man named Valentine Morgenstern, but things went wrong. Very wrong. From what I understand, they had a daughter, Clary, but Valentine became obsessed with power and purity of blood. Jocelyn had to go into hiding to protect Clary from him."

Harry absorbed this information, feeling a mix of emotions. He had another family member who was deeply entrenched in the magical and supernatural world, and it seemed their lives were just as complicated as his own.

"Is she still in hiding?" Harry asked, concern evident in his voice.

Petunia nodded her head. "Yes, Clary is a year younger than yourself. She is ten while you are eleven. Last I talked to Jocelyn was last month when she offered me a place to start anew in New York when I finish my sentence here."

"Do you know her address?" asked Harry.

Petunia nodded, her eyes reflecting a glimmer of hope. "Yes, I do. Jocelyn sent me a letter with her address in case I ever needed her help. I memorized it."

She hesitated for a moment before reciting the address: "It's 516, East 82nd Street, New York, NY. Apartment 3B."

Harry committed the address to memory, feeling a surge of anticipation. Another connection to his family, another part of his heritage to explore. He looked at Petunia, seeing the regret and sorrow etched into her features.

"Thank you," Harry said sincerely. "I think meeting her and Clary will help me understand more about where I come from."

Petunia managed a small, shaky smile. "I hope it brings you some peace, Harry. You deserve that much and more."

Harry nodded, feeling a sense of resolution. "I think it's time for me to go," he said gently, glancing at Hera.

Hera stepped forward, her presence a comforting force. "You've done well, Harry. This is another step towards healing."

Harry turned back to Petunia, his expression softening. "I'll visit again, Aunt Petunia. We have a lot to talk about, and maybe, we can start to mend our relationship. When do you finish your sentence?"

Petunia looked down, her voice barely above a whisper. "I have about two more years left. After that, I'll be free."

Harry nodded, feeling a complex mix of emotions. "I'll be there when you get out. We can start fresh."

Petunia's eyes filled with tears again, but this time they seemed to be a mix of relief and hope. "Thank you, Harry. I don't deserve it, but thank you."

Harry gave her a small smile and stood up. Hera placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, guiding him towards the door. As they left the visitation area, Harry felt a sense of closure and a newfound resolve to move forward.

Once outside the prison, Hera turned to Harry. "You handled that with great maturity and compassion, Harry. I'm proud of you."

Harry nodded, taking a deep breath. "Thank you, Hera. It wasn't easy, but it was necessary. Now, I have a lot to think about and a new family to find."

Hera smiled warmly. "Indeed. Your journey is far from over, but you are not alone. You have friends, family, and allies who will stand by your side."

Harry looked up at Hera, feeling a surge of gratitude. "I know. Thank you for being here with me. Can you take me outside of this address?"

Hera nodded, her smile reassuring. "Of course, Harry. Let's go."

With a gentle touch, Hera took Harry's hand, and the world around them shimmered and shifted. The bustling streets of Greece faded away, replaced by the vibrant cityscape of New York. They stood outside a charming, red-brick apartment building on East 82nd Street. The city hummed with life, and Harry felt a sense of anticipation and nervousness.

"Are you ready?" Hera asked, her voice gentle.

Harry took a deep breath, nodding. "Yes, I think I am. I want to do this alone I will meet you on Olympus."

(Line Break)

AN: Remember when I said any character that will be bashed will get a redemption arc, this is the beginning of Petunia's arc. Vernon will not get a redemption arc because, in my opinion, he is just unredeemable.

AN: This chapter is also the start of Harry's and Hera's relationship. They will eventually have an Aunt/nephew relationship so don't worry.

AN: The next chapter will introduce three shadowhunter characters, Luke, Clary, and Jocelyn.

AN: Please review, I read and try to reply to every comment.