|
|
|
|
This? Not mine. Sorry to bust your bubble.
The next morning was as dull as every morning had been since Voldemort went public. The sky was clear, but the day was cool and a bit of fog was clear on the ground. Harry went downstairs when he heard his aunt and uncle wake up. He followed the sound of their voices downstairs, and paused outside the door – he had reached the decision the night before.
He was leaving.
Ron and Hermione would, of course, be going with him. He didn’t know where to, but he knew he could not remain here, in this nonhome, another night. He had stayed here for more than the amount of time he had over the last summer – according to what Dumbledore had told him, he was protected from Voldemort until his birthday. His time in this place had served its purpose.
And now it was over.
He opened the kitchen door. The familiar sight of his aunt and uncle greeted him. I wonder if I’ll ever miss them. “Aunt Petunia? Uncle Vernon? Can we talk for a moment?”
Vernon Dursley turned his beady eyes on Harry and scowled. “I suppose your…friends will hex me if I say no? Get on with it, boy!” Vernon was fairly distraught because Harry had hexed Dudley in front of him a week or so ago. Harry had decided on a Jelly-Legs Curse long ago. Dudley, who was a little on the dim-witted side, had thought it was another Dementor attack. The screaming had been well worth it, especially since Uncle Vernon had avoided Harry like the plague whenever possible ever since.
As painful as this conversation would be, it had to be done. “I wanted to thank you,” Harry said, “for taking me in. I know that by doing it, you saved my life. If you had sent me to an orphanage, I would have been killed long ago. I owe you for that.
“So, I wanted to thank you before I leave for good. The protection my mum left in my blood won’t last much longer, and I have things to do. I’m grateful to you for saving my life, and I’m sorry to have been an inconvenience.”
Harry turned to leave, but…
“Harry,” Aunt Petunia said, “there is something you should know.” Harry was shocked. Aunt Petunia was speaking as though she liked him. “Your mother and I were not exactly the Muggles you always thought we were. Our parents were both Squibs. I think, deep down, they preferred her because she was everything they had failed to become – she was a very powerful witch, you know. They were killed years ago, before Lily got married, in a car crash – as I told you your parents were killed – and since I was your mother’s closest living relative, I got you. But that…Dumbledore…was your great-uncle. I think it’s time you saw the note he left me with you. She walked to a cupboard and pulled out an envelope. Turning to Harry, she said, “Good luck,” and then touched his face briefly. Then she returned to the now-burning breakfast on the stove, and Harry knew he would never see any affection from her again. With a last, silent, goodbye, he left the kitchen.
Petunia,
As sorry as I am to resort to these methods, I cannot allow this issue to proceed through the proper legal channels. This is your nephew, Harry. He was born to your sister and her husband on July 31 of last year, a month or so after your own son. I know that what I ask will be difficult for you, but your sister and her husband died last night at the hands of Lord Voldemort, and you must care for Harry now.
Your sister sacrificed herself for her son and left a certain protection in his blood. Only your blood, as your sister’s only competent relative, can save him now. While my brother and I are also relatives, my own connection is too weak to keep him hidden and my brother would be incapable of caring for a child. You are not. As the last close relative, I know that only you can protect Harry until he comes of age. I only hope that, given your tenuous relationship with your sister, you can find it in your heart to treat Harry as your own.
I hope that you will tell him everything in due course. You may contact me through Muggle post on the address on the front of this envelope if you need to ask me anything.
Sincerely Yours,
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
Harry sat on his bed, in shock. He had a living relative other than his aunt?
Ron was sitting up now, looking groggy. “Wazzzamadder, ‘Arry?” he yawned.
Harry blinked at Ron, trying to decide what to tell him. Dumbledore wanted me to confide in Ron and Hermione, he remembered.
“A letter from Dumbledore to my aunt. I guess he left it when he left me here,” he replied listlessly, handing the parchment to Ron. “She must have found it when she found me on the doorstep. I went downstairs to tell them goodbye, and she just…handed it to me.”
Ron read the letter, and then looked at Harry in shock. “You have another relative? He didn’t have to leave you here?” Ron asked in a wondering manner. “Someplace else in the world you could have gone and he left you here? But…why?”
“Well,” Harry responded, “we heard him mention a brother before. Something about improper charms on a goat and not knowing how to read?”
“Oh.” Ron frowned. “That could be bad, I guess.”
Harry nodded vigorously.
Hermione chose this moment to pound on the bedroom door (Dudley was still asleep but Hermione and Ron had spent a great deal of time finding ways to torture him, such as making as much noise as possible in the hallway.) Harry was glad to have her there – he had been waiting for her to arrive to tell them about his dream. Ron spoke first however, as soon as she walked into the room.
“Hermione, guess what! Harry’s got another loony relative! I guess we don’t have to be here after all!” he told her.
Hermione reached for the letter, almost dropping it when she pulled away from the slight contact with Ron’s hand. She scanned it, but all she could say was, “Wow.”
“I know,” said Harry, “but I actually have something more important to tell you. I dreamed about the Astronomy Tower last night.”
Ron and Hermione frowned. Hermione had often been known to wonder, in their daily meetings about their plans, why Harry had not dreamed about this particular topic yet. Ron, like Harry, had just been glad Harry had been spared so far (especially since they shared a room).
Harry continued carefully. “There was some kind of connection, in my dream, between Snape and Dumbledore. And then I remembered what Snape said to me about eye contact in Legilimency…we need to find Snape, and we I need to learn Legilimency so we can question him properly.
Hermione looked at Harry appraisingly. “Do you think Dumbledore told Snape to kill him?”
Harry sighed, putting his head in his hands. “He begged for something. I remember him asking for Snape when we arrived in Hogsmeade that night, and now I wonder why. Did he have a reason to die? We don’t know what the potion he drank was, but I remember at one point; he started shouting for someone to kill him.”
“It could be that he was hoping for an antidote from Snape. Or maybe that was what he wanted from Snape all along, to have Snape kill him. This is too many ors. We need to do some good solid research. I’m sorry, but we need the Hogwarts library,” Hermione told them.
“Okay, so that’s our next stop. Hogwarts, or maybe Hogsmeade,” Harry replied. He decided to tell them. “I want to leave today. This is exactly the number of days I spent last summer, and that should leave me pretty well protected until I’m seventeen. I’m just so sick of living here, and since I don’t have to anymore…we’re going.”
“Can we do something nasty to the Muggles first?” Ron asked.
“Let’s pack!” cried Hermione.
Harry grinned. He was glad to be going.
bravenet.com