Chapter 14

Heart to Heart

Being back in Hogwarts felt strange. While Harry had been here briefly upon his entrance into the past, being here, with the notion of remaining, was something he still struggled to comprehend.

"So, the students aren't going to be calling me 'Professor', are they?"

Softly chuckling, Albus shook his head. "No, that would be unlikely. Most will refer to you as Mr. Gaunt. Perhaps some of the older students will take note of your young age and see you as a peer. Those may simply call you Harry if they are comfortable with you."

Harry nodded. It made sense. "So, your N.E.W.T. Classes..."

"Yes, Ms. Riddle is in Advanced Transfiguration. She is in my classroom Tuesdays and Fridays." Albus seemed to know what avenue Harry's thoughts were leading to. "I can assure you, Harry, Ms. Riddle is not as brash in public as she is in private. She wears the facade of a model student quite well, though, with her gifted abilities, that should come as no surprise."

"So, no embarrassing outbursts from her, then?"

Albus merely shrugged half-heartedly. "Who knows. Ms. Riddle has gone through quite the transformation recently. But I'd wager that you can set you mind at ease. Ms. Riddle doesn't like others being aware of her private affairs. However..."

Albus shifted, somewhat nervously. Or at least, that was what Harry perceived. "As we are both aware, Harry, Emily is possessive. She likes control, and she despises when others take what she believes belongs solely to her. You're a personable and charming lad. You have qualities that draw others to you. Therefore, I would wager that, at one point, Ms. Riddle will do something to announce to the school that you are hers. It may be something innocuous. It may be something quite the opposite."

"Do you think I should head her off?"

"Do you think you can?"

Albus' question in response to his own made Harry pause. After a moment's contemplation, he answered, "I can mitigate. Make sure to keep her reactions to a minimum."

"Perhaps you can." Albus paused, and Harry wondered how much Albus believed in that happening. "But, and I'm sure you've noticed this, Ms. Riddle likes to make rather hasty assumptions. She can be cold and calculating, but when her anger is roused, she tends to strike out at her problems. Rather brutally, might I add."

Harry could agree with that easily enough. Even when Emily had donned the name Lord Voldemort, she showed that tendency. As the Dark Lord, Emily was a mastermind at working from the shadows. But should someone displease her, she dealt with person, loyal or otherwise, most harshly. Harry'd only known the woman to show mercy to Severus Snape and Bellatrix Lestrange. Severus, who was an integral spy on the only man she feared, and Bellatrix for her fanatical devotion. Perhaps there were other such instances, but he was not aware of them.

"There have been incidents in the past, here within these halls. Incidents of a... malicious nature. Ones that Ms. Riddle previously admitted to. There have been more than a few students in the Hospital Wing, and enough to St. Mungo's that Armando and I investigated thoroughly. But we never could discover evidence to implicate a student, though I had my suspicions. Once we began to dig into the attacks, they stopped suddenly, and the attacker never did resurface to continue. Clearly, she began taking great care to keep her victims silent."

"Sort of surprised the headmaster was even willing to take her back." Harry spoke quietly. "But, anyway, Emily's emotions do swing on one hell of a pendulum. I think the stress of Myrtle's death made her crack."

Albus nodded as the two men turned the corner. It was late evening, and the students were due to return to Hogwarts in two days. Albus was taking Harry to the library to familiarize him with certain privileges he had as a staff member.

"Yes, death can cause ripples we don't expect. Ms. Riddle is bright, powerful and rather intuitive. Her darker tendencies aside, she's an exemplary member of the student body. Do you think she would benefit from speaking to someone about the incident?"

"No." Harry shook his head. "She's already rationalized Myrtle's death. Not the ideal scenario, for everyone involved. In a perfect world, we could have kept Emily from breaking that taboo. Seeing as she keeps ramping up the number, though, that's causing me to worry about her. Killing isn't supposed to be easy, Albus. But for her, the justifications for it come too readily. If she needs to speak about something, it would be that."

"Which, is not really an option, as the only people she could speak to about such things are people she doesn't wish to broach said subject with. Do you feel that those justifications are a way for her to protect herself? Or are they words to placate others?"

"Probably the latter. I don't think Emily cares anymore. She has other priorities."

"Yes, her obsession with you. It does seem rather... all-consuming."

Harry sighed. "Better her chasing me than chasing immortality, I guess."

Albus chuckled. "And your infatuation with her is rather convenient as well."

"I wouldn't call it infatuation. I... struggle defining it. I care about Emily. I enjoy spending time with her. She's attractive, too. I don't know, Albus. It's almost like romance."

"But not quite." Albus murmured. "Alas, Harry, not even I have the answer for your conundrum."

"It's just difficult. I've realized that. I'm a lover, a parent, a mentor, a jailer, and sometimes even a judge to Emily. And I don't particularly want to be some of those things to her, mind you, but... they're necessary. And if that wasn't confusing enough, she doesn't just play a single role in my life, either. She's a lover, a peer, a confidant, a protector and also even a judge to me. Its messy. We're messy. But despite that, things work out. And itis crazy, you know."

Harry paused, to ponder for a moment. "I've seen couples be perfect with each other for an overwhelming majority of their time together. But the slightest crack can send them apart. Emily and I have enormous fissures in the foundations of our relationship, but nothing seems to be able to bring it down. Morfin's death, Grindlewald, explosive fights between ourselves, and such things pry away at our bonds, and some have made an impact. But once those things are gone, we're stuck back together like glue."

"Inseparable, but not in the usual sense." Dumbledore supplied a word for Harry and Emily's relationship and Harry nodded.

"Yes, we're inseparable." Harry trailed off for a moment. "And I'm starting to fear what that means. What if I bite off more than I can chew? If I make a misstep and Emily is alone again. What will that mean for her? What will she do? That kind of pain being inflicted on her, there's really no telling how she would lash out. Or the damage she would do."

"While I cannot promise a miracle, Harry, I can tell you that she will only be alone should she make that choice. I will do my best to assist her in your absence. Deep down, I believe your love for her has made an irreversible change within Emily Riddle. One that we are too early to see the full ramifications of, but I am certain she will not become the Voldemort you knew from your time."

"You're right, but it goes even deeper. What if I screw up and she pays the price for it? What will I do? What kind of havoc will I wreak? And when my anger cools, I'll be empty. Honestly, despite the vile nature of it, to me, her horcrux is a small blessing. A do over, that few people ever receive."

"Of course, the ability to forestall death is something everyone has desired at some point." Albus wasted no time in rationalizing Harry's thoughts. "But it does come for us all, eventually. Even my friend Nicolas Flamel will face death one day."

The library doors were now within sight, and the macabre conversation ended there. Albus, without a word, opened the doors of the library and introduced Harry to its only occupant. "This, Mr. Gaunt, is the Hogwarts library. The young lady over there is Madam Kirkland. She's quite strict and has even thrown out a professor or two for noise. It would be best if you keep your volume down."

Harry nodded at the man's words. Madam Kirkland seemed to be in her mid-thirties. She did not look nearly as stern as Madam Pince, but the lady was also about two decades younger. Harry stood quietly as Albus introduced him as the newest staff member at Hogwarts, and asked Madam Kirkland to place the necessary enchantments on Harry to allow him entrance into the restricted section. After a handful of flicks from the woman's incredibly short wand, Harry and Albus left the woman to continue her preparations for the upcoming student's arrival.

"I think that's the first time I've ever seen a wand under five inches long. It barely stuck out of her hand."

Albus nodded his head with a smile, "Yes, but mind you, it has been altered. Her original wand was damaged during a quidditch match back in her fifth year. A bludger not only took the wind out of her but snapped her wand in half. Surprisingly, the wand served her just the same, despite the damage, so she never made any attempt to replace it."

"Wow, that's actually rather wild to hear. When I was in quidditch, it was commonplace to have your wand on your thigh. Highly unlikely for a bludger to damage them. Or anything else to do so, either."

The two men continued their tour amicably. Harry would share anecdotes of things from his time at Hogwarts whenever there was an opportunity to do so, and Albus listened attentively.

"And you're certain that it's okay for me to enter a full-time position here? I, well, I'm not particularly confident about my duties."

"Nonsense, Harry. You'll make a wonderful flying instructor, as well as an exceptional aide for me. Honestly, Armando was rather pleased to hear of your skill on a broom. Normally, he randomly selects a professor each year and has them do the task. As for Quidditch referees, they are a mostly voluntary task, though not always. It is one that few enjoy volunteering for, mind you. Most professors either prefer to fully watch the game as a spectator, or completely do not care for the sport. You'll find that Hogwarts has her needs for you."

Harry nodded. In all honesty, it was more than he could have hoped for. There really was not a position available at Hogwarts for him. So, either a new position would need to be crafted, or he'd be nothing more than a teaching aide. Of course, that suited him just fine, but Harry knew his skill in transfiguration was sorely lacking. Especially in comparison to an educator like Albus Dumbledore. What assistance would he be able to offer?

Albus paused, seemingly in thought before resuming his relaxed pace. "Tell me, Harry, did you and Miss Riddle do much flying in your time away?"

"Uh... Er, no, not really, sir." Albus smiled at his response.

"Then I do believe the two of you are overdue for a leisurely activity. The two of you should occupy the pitch this evening."

Harry was a bit shocked to hear his professor's words. "Wait a minute, you mean to tell me that Emily likes flying on a broom?"

"Certainly, she takes to it like a mermaid does water. Strangely enough, she never showed any inclination to Quidditch. Given the sport's popularity and Emily's desire for attention, I'm surprised she never partook."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. But seeing Emily on a broom would be fun. Of course, he'd seen her other persona fly freely through the air, but that had left a far more horrifying mark on his memory. Unaided flight was a tool in Voldemort's arsenal that she used to great effect. Not needing to use her hands to steady herself or steer, Voldemort could always fire spells while traversing through the air. And she did so with pinpoint accuracy.

Just as Harry's mind brought up the image of a pale, dead and broken Alastor Moody did a pair of arms wrap themselves around him. Harry was no longer shocked by Emily's attempts to unnerve him with stealthy hugs. But he was unnerved by the fact that she had become such an occurring presence to him that he could no longer sense her approach. Harry could feel Albus' proximity thanks to the man's incredible amount of magic. Though, should Albus want to remain discreet, he could do so with just as much success as Harry could with his family's cloak.

Emily's magic was similar, but it seemed that she'd either found some way to suppress it, or he'd simply grown used to it. Turning his head slightly to acknowledge her presence, he asked, "What are you up to?"

He felt her arms move up and down as she shrugged. "Running loose, of course. Once this place is filled with students, I won't be able to run about freely. Figured I could take a few days and really explore Hogwarts."

Albus had stopped his pace when Harry did, and while Emily only gazed at Harry, he shot a quick glance at Albus. Seeing the small smile and twinkling eyes of his young headmaster, Harry really wanted to know what the man was thinking.

"Are you done with him yet, Professor?" Emily asked Albus politely. Harry had a hard time pinpointing these two's relationship. Emily was every bit the actress and reading her face accurately didn't necessarily mean you knew what the girl was thinking. She could talk sweetly to your face while burying a knife in your back. But she was cordial with the man, and he responded the same. He made no overt attempts to speak to her and she was just as reserved.

"Yes, Harry and I were just enjoying a leisurely walk, now. We've actually been done with the official business for quite some time."

With a single nod, Harry found himself being pulled in a completely different direction than he'd been headed as Emily dragged him off. He could just barely hear Albus chuckle as he turned the corridor.

"Slow down, Emily. Where's the fire?" Harry jokingly asked, before finding himself shoved against the wall, Emily flush against him.

"Do you really want to know?" Emily looked into his eyes and all Harry could almost feel the desire in her gaze. Emily liked to take charge and initiate things, which was something Harry enjoyed to an extent, but also found many of her times improper.

"You can't be serious Emily, we're in the corridor."

"Oh, don't worry, we won't be for long. You and I are about to do something incredibly... naughty together."

Turning her hazy eyes towards her destination, Emily grabbed him by the top of his trousers and pulled him along. Despite the rather alluring feeling he got from her, it was quite embarrassing for a woman to lead him around, almost literally, by his privates. So, he gently pried her fingers off and held her hand as they walked. An action she seemed quite content with.

An hour later, he could only groan softly in dissatisfaction. Leaning against the bookshelf, Harry watched as Emily happily look up and down the shelves, selecting a tome here or there.

"When you said naughty, I have to admit, I didn't expect that sneaking you into the Restricted Section was what you had in mind."

Shrugging slightly, Emily responded, "Well, like I said, I want to explore. And this section of the school is one that I've rarely gotten access to. After all, what's the point of sleeping with my professor if there aren't any perks to it."

"Then you picked a poor target. Flying instructor and teaching aide position aside, a professor I am not. Sorry to ruin the fantasy."

"Oh, shush. Don't be a buzzkill, Harry."

"Says the woman who gave me the buzz and killed it after five minutes of being in the library."

"Oh, don't pout. It's not like I'm writing you a check I don't plan on cashing. But really, Harry, exercise some semblance of propriety here. We can't just go at it like animals in the corridors."

Harry narrowed his eyes at her, playfully. While grinning, he turned and also began thumbing through the shelves. He paid little attention to the titles in front of him, however. He was too busy pondering his mood. Emily's playful humor and wit was a surefire way to make him smile. He wondered if that would have to be something he needed to rein in. After all, it would look weird if he started grinning like a fool every time she made a wise crack in the classroom.

About to turn back to Emily, Harry briefly glanced at the book that his finger rested against.

"Secrets of the Darkest Art," Harry murmured. "Why does that sound familiar?"

Not sure why the title seemed vaguely familiar to his ears, Harry opened the book to its table of contents. Slowly reading down the list, Harry felt his guts twist at the sections that passed his eyes.

"Inferi, Their Uses and Creation, Mind Usurpation and Counters, Causing Pain Beyond Death... and Immortality?"

Harry flipped over to the last part he'd read and perused its contents.

True immortality is beyond the reach of mortal hands, despite the power of magic. Perhaps the best-known ways to evade life's natural end is the Elixir of Life, a powerful liquid secreted from the Philosopher's Stone. But even this method is not a true stopper to life's natural process as the body will age rapidly once the effects of the elixir wear off.

There are many methods to reverse the body's aging, but such methods fail to reverse the aging of the human brain. To reverse the aging of the brain, one would lose all knowledge and memories associated with the time that was rewound. In Ancient Egypt, a palace mage was kept alive for several decades by continuously reversing his age in small increments. Such methods, while ingenious at the time, were doomed to fail, as, eventually, the mage's brain ceased total function. Further research showed that the brain has a natural expiration that magic can not undo, though, with the Elixir of Life, that expiration is delayed most significantly.

Which leads one to the most natural question, with the fragile human body and limited brain, how can one achieve an eternal life? The answer is a complete discarding of the brain as an irreplaceable unit. But the brain, being such an integral part of the body's function cannot merely be removed. It must be replaced.

All attempts to remove a brain and replace it with another via magical means all produced failures. Several attempts seemed promising, but upon regaining consciousness, all subjects showed no sense of humanity. Detailed records were not kept, and no such experiments have not been attempted. Therefore, placing a brain in a younger body is not feasible. Furthermore-

"Horrifying stuff, isn't it?" Emily's voice pulled Harry back from the macabre material.

Coughing lightly, Harry nodded. "It is, though some of it flew right over my head."

Emily nodded. "It's complicated, certainly. One of the few texts I did manage to get my hands on. It alone prodded me along the furthest in my research for immortality. As you were reading, clearly the biggest hurdle is the human brain."

"I see. So, you turned to horcruxes? How does that work, precisely?"

Grinning, Emily made a demure motion with her shoulders, not quite a shrug, but no other word came close to defining the shift of her muscles.

"You need to remember, that the Ancient Egyptians experiments happened nearly five millennia ago. Magic has changed. They were so stuck on human biology, that they never thought to simply create a facsimile."

Harry nodded in understanding. "The homunculus."

"Yep. Its fool proof." Emily turned and slowly began to wonder off, but Harry's sniggering made her freeze.

"Yeah, fool proof. Coming from the girl who had no idea what one was a few months ago."

Harry watched as Emily turned her head to pout at him. "So, you remember that minor detail, huh?"

"Of course. I thought you were crazy, making such a dark item with seemingly no fore thought. But how would a homunculus function without a brain?"

Emily stared at him quizzically. "I figured that you'd know, considering how much more you seem to know about the subject."

Harry shrugged, helplessly. "I know the terms, hell, I even know the method to make them, but other than them being fake bodies, I don't really know much else."

Watching as she furrowed her brows in thought, he was surprised when she reached over and plucked the book from his hands.

"A bit of light reading, for later."

Harry sighed. "I'm not really sure if that's something I should be letting you wonder out of here with."

Emily stopped at his words, and Harry wondered if she'd put the old book back. She stared at it, and sure enough, turned and placed it back from where he'd picked it up. Once she did so, Harry watch as she calmly waved her wand and the several other books, she'd pulled from the shelves gently made their way back to their previous positions.

Sighing, Emily went to sit in one of the few spindly chairs that resided in the restricted section. Harry wasted no time in joining her. Silence ruled for several moments before she felt like speaking.

"It didn't take long, did it, Harry?"

Harry was perplexed, but somehow, he knew that his best option was to stay silent and let her speak. These moments, where she opened up to him of her own volition, were rare, but they were occurring more and more often.

"It's like there's something in the walls of this old castle. Probably nothing more than my own familiarity with the place. Not even back for a day before I'm back to digging into dark and forbidden magic. I'm even breaking rules to do it, not even a day after promising the old fossils I'd behave."

A second sigh followed her words and Harry watched as she leaned her body over the chair to hold her head in her hands.

"Emily, I doubt mischief like sneaking into the restricted section was something they wanted to keep you from. Otherwise, Albus wouldn't have made sure I had access here. He and Dippet are aware that what I have access to, you do as well.

Emily nodded her head in understanding to his words, but she seemed to be caught in a spiral. He was prone to these instances himself, though, so he was glad he was nearby to help her. So long as she didn't start spiraling rapidly and allowing her magic to go out of control like the last time. Hermione and Ginny had become experts at pulling Harry out of a brood. Harry could be that person for Emily.

Lifting her head up to now sit atop her hands, Emily turned to look at Harry fondly. "I'm bad. I misbehave. Just a rabid dog that needs a leash. But I don't think I've ever truly thought I was a slave to my urges until this very moment. Sure, I can tell Headmaster Dippet that I'm sick. Because things I want and like are not normal. But for the longest time, there was always this comfort, knowing I was always in control of myself. But now, seeing how easily I slipped back into my old ways, I'm not too sure of just how in control I am."

Harry stared at the young girl in front of him. This was a conversation he didn't expect. What was more, it was clearly something that was completely out of his depth. Harry was fully aware of what the term 'mental disorder' meant, but due to the fact that Harry steered clear of his own issues, that was about the extent of his knowledge. He couldn't list more than a handful, though most did relate to Emily. Especially in regard to psychopathy. He knew quite a lot about that one. Still, if this was Emily's attempt at asking for help, he certainly would do whatever he could to make sure she got it.

Pausing for a moment to organize his thoughts, Harry carefully spoke. "You know, Emily, there's..." Trailing off, Harry immediately felt the wind leave his sails before the ship carrying his thoughts could set out. Because there wasn't really the help he'd wanted to offer her available in this time period. Harry couldn't even guess if modern antidepressants had been invented yet. Not only that, but the magical world was sorely lacking in treatments of the mind. Emily would have to go the full muggle path. And that was not likely to spur her to be better. There were some painful limits in this era, but Harry wasn't a man of this era. He was from the future, and thankfully, his future knowledge was useful to an extent.

Getting up, Harry moved in front of Emily, her eyes following ever since he'd stopped speaking so abruptly. Taking a deep breath, Harry pushed straight into what he wanted to say.

"Emily, do... do you want to change?" The first sentence wasn't the best, but it was certainly the best Harry had. "I mean, look, there is nothing wrong with being a fan of dark magic. Technically speaking, there's nothing wrong with the fact that you get off to causing pain either. You're different. And that's not a bad thing."

Harry paused. The words were flowing, yes, but they still weren't very cohesive. Which made sense, as he was trying to improvise a philosophical lesson without any planning. "What I'm trying to say is that everyone has some darkness in their hearts, Emily. Something twisted and ugly. For a long time, you've allowed that darkness in your heart full control. You didn't see a need to keep it in check. But now you do. However, there's a fundamental difference in keeping the darkness in check and completely getting rid of it. Do you follow what I'm saying?"

At Emily's long stare, Harry wondered, perhaps, if he was making any sense to her whatsoever. "To put it simply, it's okay to have those thoughts, but not okay to put those thoughts into action. Albus, Professor Dippet and I only expect you to reign in what you do, not what you think. You think you've slipped back into your old ways, but all it took was only an errant thought from me to have you wandering back to the path we all want you to be on."

"We aren't trying to fix you, Emily. I've said it before and I'll say it again, you don't need to be fixed. Everyone is different. With their own quirks and issues. But different has never meant broken. We just want you to be able to operate in civilized society, as weird as that is to say."

Harry knew that the Voldemort from his time was a psychopath. And not only in the demeaning way. She was a social predator who could manipulate, charm, and ruthlessly force her way through life, leaving a trail of broken bodies, shattered hopes, and empty promises. But he had no idea what to do about treatment for that sort of thing. He honestly didn't think it was something that could be medicated away, even in his time. But he did know that the one thing that all mental disorders had in common was a treatment through therapy. Most minds suffered because they lacked one of two things, peace or balance. And in another cosmic twist, Emily and he shared this same affliction, a lack of peace due to anger.

"Why are you angry, Emily?"

The fumbling communication from mere moments ago, was now replaced by a firm question. So quick was the change, that Emily looked a bit startled.

"I'm actually pretty happy right now. I-"

"No, I mean that anger deep inside you. What's it come from?"

Emily grew pensive for several moments. "Well, its a lot of things, isn't it. Its layers and layers of rage that's just stacked on top of each other. I put it in a box in my mind and move on. Recently it was Uncle Morfin, but it goes back probably my whole life. Before Morfin, it was anger at my basilisk, and then it was the Gryffindor Quidditch team who interrupted my personal time last year and damn near put me in a position to get expelled. Before that, it was Liam Phillips who scored higher than me in the Charm's final, but I know for a fact he cheated."

For almost ten minutes, Emily sat in her chair, listing off everything she could think about that caused her to seethe in the present. One thing Harry was surprised not to hear, was the name of Albus Dumbledore. Something he brought up almost immediately once she was done. She stared at him in a befuddled manner before murmuring a reply.

"He and I... cleared the air a few days ago. I'm not happy, nor do I fully trust him, but whenever I think of the deputy headmaster, I don't get angry anymore."

Harry nodded. Anger could fade like that, not necessarily through forgiveness, but understanding. It was similar to how Harry felt with Severus Snape. He couldn't forgive the man, but he did understand him. But if that were the case, then other aspects could be called forth for further examination. After all, if she recognized now that she could deal with her neglected emotions, then her gaining peace of mind was only a short distance away.

"Uncle Morfin... I'd figure that wouldn't piss you off. You got the last laugh, in the end, so to speak. Thinking about that still angers you?"

Emily nodded, but didn't speak on the matter. Harry, a natural brooder, understood what her response meant. Something Uncle Morfin said had been so powerful, that even after his body was left to rot, his words remained embedded in her heart. Tiny shards that cut grooves in her beliefs deep enough that she deemed it better to ignore rather than to heal. Perhaps this was an example of emotional trauma. Harry wouldn't really know; he ran away from those sorts of wounds faster than Emily did. But unpacking in front of her meant she'd unpack in front of him. Standing up from his crouched position in front of her, he went to lean against a bookshelf.

"I used to go by the name of Freak, when I was a kid. Obviously, not by choice. But it was the name my Uncle Vernon gave me. Aunt Petunia never referred to me by any name, in those days. Called me Boy, if anything. Tried not to really even look at me, to be honest. Most likely because of my eyes. The same eyes her sister had. I didn't even learn my real name until right before I entered school." Again, his words didn't come smoothly, but he kept speaking.

"To this day, I don't like the word freak. And nothing pisses me off more than when I hear someone call a child that. My muggle family doesn't even exist in this timeline, but they no longer existed in my own either. The war with you had gotten so bad that they'd gotten wrapped up in it as well. Only my cousin was left, and I don't even know if he was still alive by the time I was captured. All of the anger I have now from those times is really just contained in that one word."

It was a better start than the last conversation. At least he managed to communicate that he'd overcome the emotions from his past.

"In the end, though their fear and hatred of magic was shallow, it was justified. It was what they died to. A force beyond their control, as was their relation to the war. Just by a shallow blood line connection to me, were they hunted down and killed. Lucky for Dud, he was in university at the time." Harry sighed. This wasn't a story he liked to share, after all, it only showcased more blood on his hands.

"I forgave them their treatment of me, when I heard of their passing. In the end, they had a right to despise magic, and they had a right to resent my existence for placing them in those dangerous circumstances. But Aunt Petunia had just enough love left for my mother that she couldn't turn me away. And Uncle Vernon, despite his looks, loved his wife so much that when she put her foot down, he agreed. I may not have been loved in my home, but I was raised there. 'Unwanted, but safe. Unloved, but alive.' I think that's how Albus put it, one day."

Looking at Emily with a small smile, he tilted his head slightly. "I used to get so angry, when I thought of the Dursley's. The years of... coldness, I experienced there. I used to think my uncle was a monster." Harry took a moment to wipe his mouth, almost as if there were something dirty there. "But in hindsight, as painful as it is to say, he was a good man."

"When a half-giant burst into a shack we were staying at, Vernon came down with a shotgun and yelled at the man to leave. Whenever a wand was pointed at my him, the first thing he ever did was shove Aunt Petunia and Dud behind him. Magic terrified my uncle, because he understood the danger of it. But he faced those threats head on to protect his wife and son. He provided for them well and did his best for them. For his nephew, he couldn't spare any love. And I'm okay with that."

Emily got up from her chair and wrapped him in a gentle hug. He patted her arm, but there was just a bit more to the story he had to share.

"In the end, Uncle Vernon... he knew that our connection as family meant something. They killed my aunt in front of him, brutally, from what the witness's memory told me. They were none to gentle with him, either. But, even in the face of his worst fears, I was told my uncle spit in Voldemort's face. He laughed at her." Harry took a deep breath. He had extracted this memory from a death eater, before killing them. To this day, what he'd seen in that memory was a balm to his soul. Something that eased the anger deep towards the Dursley family in his heart.

"'He'll get you, bitch. Harry'll hunt you down. Kill you with his bare hands. Won't stop. You can't stop him. None of you freaks will be able to stop him. He'll end you all.'" Harry's imitation of Vernon surprised even himself, but he didn't let his shock stop him.

"I don't know if Vernon was projecting his final wishes on to me, or what. I don't know if he respected me or believed in me, or if it was just some last moment delusion to ease his pain. But he spoke hard, biting words, straight to Voldemort's face. And he told her that I would hunt her down like one would a rabid animal. She killed him immediately. Perhaps he knew that would end his suffering, I don't know. But... for the first time, my Uncle Vernon and I stood on the same side. I guess, we died on that side, too."

"In his last moments, my uncle turned to me. Though we hardly had any love between us, we were family. In the end, he didn't curse me. In the end, he wanted, no... he expected me to exact vengeance on their behalf. It was then I understood Uncle Vernon didn't hate Harry Potter. He just hated the magic inside me. He just wasn't strong enough to separate those things in reality."

Pulling himself away from her gentle embrace, Harry was surprised to see sniffing quietly, as though she'd nearly been brought to tears. Gently running his fingers down her face to remove what traces may have remained, he drove the meaning of his story home.

"As a child, I had a child's perspective, Emily. My uncle treated me poorly, so that meant he hated me and in turn I hated him. But when I reflect on it now, older and wiser, I know better. And because of that, my anger is more easily controlled. I'm less impulsive, I'm calmer. Perhaps if you look back at some of the things that cause you pain, with your older and wiser perspective, you'll make peace like I did. In either case, I'm here to listen to you, just like you're here to listen to me."

Harry waited for a moment, making sure his words sunk in. Knowing that she would not respond immediately, he moved on to a topic he'd been meaning to broach with Emily soon.

"So, we need to talk about the side effects of horcruxes, Emily. There's some things you need to know."