DH SPOILER-HOLDING FIC: "Family Reunion" (Harry, Petunia, G)
Title: Family Reunion
Characters: Harry, Petunia
Rating: G/gen
Words: 1950
A/N: DH SPOILERS. NO KIDDING.
A/N 2: Yes, so far I am all about the gen with the DH canon. However, up next: Porn.
Family Reunion
Petunia hadn't received a letter by owl in nearly four years, but she'd been expecting one for some time.
She looked over her shoulder quickly of habit, then shook her head; once Vernon had found employment here, Dudley had started in a junior position as well, and her days were her own. They'd left an hour ago. She opened the kitchen window and let the owl in.
Dear Aunt Petunia,
I honestly don't want to be a bother, but I thought you had the right to know how things turned out. I mean, maybe you already know--I'm sure there are things the Ministry doesn't tell me. But, just in case.
So, I wondered. Perhaps lunch? In town, if you'd prefer a public setting where I can't do anything hinky, but I can certainly come there, or you here. I just... There are things I wanted to make sure someone had told you.
I checked to make sure you were likely to be alone. I don't want to cause strain, and I've done enough of that over the years. So. If you want to write your answer on the back, Dob will bring back your answer--no evidence of our contact, then, on your end, you know? If you don't want to hear from me or meet, that's all right, and I won't bother you again.
Harry
P. S. I do have a charm in your back garden that will notify me if you need me, though. It's only fair to tell you.
Petunia scowled, then sighed and found a pencil. She scribbled her reply on the back and took it to the little brown owl. "Here."
It blinked at her, then blinked again, then with a shuffling of feet, leaned to one side and stuck out its leg at her.
"It's to Harry Potter."
The owl gave her a look she was certain was disdainful, and wiggled the leg, doing a little hopping dance.
"I suppose you knew that."
It blinked again, then set its foot down, gathered itself, and flapped across to the couch, where it picked up in its beak the ribbon with which the letter had been tied. It flapped back, opened its beak, leaving the ribbon hanging, and waited.
"Oh. Right. Tie it back to you. I've never actually sent a letter with an owl before." She took the little string and attached the note. "Sorry. I don't mean to be thick. If you can understand me."
She got the sense if the owl had had lips, it would have wrinkled them in her direction.
"Oh. And there are. They always used to give the owls a little snack?"
The owl gave an excited little hop at that, so she went to the table and retrieved the remains of her scrambled eggs. "Will this do?"
It ate in gulps and grabs, then went to the window and launched from it.
She went to get dressed. Eleven was soon.
--
The café wasn't crowded so early, but still, she sat in the corner away from anyone else. Just in case. She'd brought the latest thriller, checked out from the library, and read while she waited.
"Hi. Mind if I sit?"
Petunia looked up. Harry had changed. His hair was longer, now, pulled into a long tail like the young men that irritated Vernon so, and he'd filled out through the chest and shoulders. "Are you…" she paused. "You still have the eyes."
Harry nodded. "I don't think I could not have them if I wanted to. I did cast a bit of a charm, though; I don't think anyone but you is likely to really notice me. Well. The girl will, when she takes our order, but then she'll find me unremarkable."
"I'm always unremarkable." Petunia blushed, uncertain why she'd said that, but Harry shook his head and reached for her hand, then yanked his fingers back.
"Sorry. I. You shouldn't say that. Just because you weren't able to go to Hogwarts. Uh. Maybe I should start at the beginning."
The girl came to take their order before Petunia could answer that, and Harry ordered sandwiches, soup, and tall glasses of fizzy cola for both of them before she managed to say a word. "I'm not all that hungry," she said as the girl left.
"On me," Harry said. He looked away for a moment, then met her eyes. "I won," he said. "I mean, I imagine you worked that out when the weird weather and stuff stopped happening, but I still wasn't sure whether anyone had told you?"
"We got a letter in the Muggle post from your Kingsley," she said. "It was brief."
"Kingsley's Minister now, you know."
"Honestly?" Petunia blinked. "We've had the Minister to tea?"
"More or less. He's a good man."
"I hope, or it would all be for nothing."
"Right." A shadow passed over Harry's face again. "There's a lot to the story, but I don't want to take your afternoon, so I'll try to be short. Just, there are a couple of things specifically I think you deserve to know. I probably should have been in touch sooner."
"About my…Lily?"
"Sort of. About Snape. About how… You knew Snape."
Petunia pressed her mouth into a tight line. "That was a long time ago."
"I know. And he worried you and you were angry, about the post."
"It didn't matter. It was only--"
"That you wanted to go with Lily. I saw."
"You saw?"
Harry sighed. "Did she ever tell you about Pensieves?"
Petunia shook her head, feeling the genesis of a headache creeping up the back of her neck. "No. We didn't speak a great deal, once things had started to go so odd."
Harry nodded. "I didn't think, but I didn't want to waste your time explaining. It's a device you can put your memories in, literally, so someone else can watch them. Or so you can. That's where I saw the post and the train. And Snape."
"You recovered Lily's memories somehow, then?" Petunia found herself once again failing to follow a conversation, something that had been far too common in the summers of their teenage years, and tried to make sense of what he was saying.
"No. Snape's."
"But I thought--"
"We all kind of thought. But then. Look. The thing I wanted to tell you was, you know Dumbledore told you about how my mother loved me, what that meant." Harry paused as the girl came back with their food, which neither of them touched.
"Yes," she said, once they were alone again. "But Snape was a nasty boy, talking about those awful things."
"I know, but he was right. And he was her friend."
"In a way, I suppose."
"No, I mean really. It was all really complicated, and it's still a little hard for me to talk about much." Harry picked at the lettuce hanging out the side of his sandwich. "Anyway. That's what I wanted to tell you. One thing, anyway. He was killed, there toward the end."
"Oh!" Petunia drew in a sharp breath than asked, "Did you do it, then?"
"No. Voldemort did. Because he wanted his wand. It was horrible."
Her soup was getting cold, which was a waste, and in any case she had no idea how to respond to that, so Petunia picked up her spoon and took a bite, but found it hard to swallow. She put the spoon down. "And you got his memories then?"
"Yeah. Before he. Well, in the last moments. He really was my mother's friend. He'd been watching me all this time, you know? Making sure I didn't die and such."
"I'd never have thought," Petunia said, dabbing at her lips with the paper napkin. "He seemed so angry as a boy, so dark."
Harry took a deep breath and sighed. "Yeah. I thought so too, for years. For all the time I knew him, until after he'd actually gone. It was a bit of a shock. Anyway. You knew him as a boy, and even if you didn't like him, I just…I thought you ought to know how things ended, and also it didn't seem right that no one from his childhood should know or care, you know?"
Petunia nodded, mechanically pushing her soup away. She took a sip of the cola then pressed her lips together again. "And it was because he was Lily's …what?"
Harry considered. "Given the rest of the timeline everyone put together, I guess you could say he was her last friend."
"No."
"What?"
"Well, unless sisters don't count."
Harry stared at her for a minute, then smiled, just a little. "No, they count. Thanks."
Petunia frowned. "You could see his memories? Watch them?"
"Yeah. You were in them. At the park. At the train."
She nodded. "Could I do that?"
"See his memories?"
"Yes. I…" Petunia looked down, then back up, eyes stinging. "I tried so hard to put her out of my mind for so long."
Harry blinked. "I don't know. If you want, I could bring a Pensieve sometime. If you'll let me. We could try."
"I might like that. Vernon--"
"Wouldn't have to know. I know."
She nodded. "There's just too much built up, there."
"I know. Even if you can't, well, I might have some ideas." Harry shifted in his seat and sipped at his cola. "How's Dudley?"
"Well. Seeing a nice girl from the university."
"He's not in school, is he?"
"No. Not much for the academics, my Dudley."
"Right." Harry looked at the food between them. "Are you going to eat anything?"
"No."
He waved his hand and most of the food vanished. "Sorry. Looks more normal." He stood. "I. I mentioned the charm," he said.
"In my back garden."
"Right. For if you need me. If you call me, I'll know."
She swallowed and picked up her nearly empty glass to finish the last of the cool drink. "Will I need you?"
"Not that I know of, but if you do. I mean, I know it was never your idea. But sixteen years, so."
"So it's because you owe me?"
"No. Because my mother loved you." Harry grinned a little. "And because it's barely possible Dudley's child one day will need me. I can't imagine you'd want to take in another one,and I'm pretty sure you know it can't really just be ignored."
She shuddered before she could stop herself, but managed to get the response under control. "What else did you want to tell me?" she asked after a moment.
He shrugged. "I think in not so long I might be getting married."
"Married! You're not even nineteen!"
"I know. Not this week or anything. Only I thought you should know. Anyway. That was all." Harry stood and held out his hand to help her up.
She gripped the straps of her bag in her other hand, but let him help her, then before she could help it, leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Send an invitation," she said. "If you want." She turned away before he could answer, but he grabbed her arm, his grip firm but gentle.
"Thanks," he said. "I'll send Dob. About the memories, too."
She nodded, and hurried out of the cafe before she could ask what had happened to the other owl or who the girl was or whether Severus Snape had left any family.
It was a week before Vernon noticed the thick perch and little feeder she'd put up outside the kitchen window.
She told him it was for the garden wrens.
Dudley, eating a pair of poached eggs on toast, raised his eyebrows, but didn't contradict her.
Characters: Harry, Petunia
Rating: G/gen
Words: 1950
A/N: DH SPOILERS. NO KIDDING.
A/N 2: Yes, so far I am all about the gen with the DH canon. However, up next: Porn.
Family Reunion
Petunia hadn't received a letter by owl in nearly four years, but she'd been expecting one for some time.
She looked over her shoulder quickly of habit, then shook her head; once Vernon had found employment here, Dudley had started in a junior position as well, and her days were her own. They'd left an hour ago. She opened the kitchen window and let the owl in.
Dear Aunt Petunia,
I honestly don't want to be a bother, but I thought you had the right to know how things turned out. I mean, maybe you already know--I'm sure there are things the Ministry doesn't tell me. But, just in case.
So, I wondered. Perhaps lunch? In town, if you'd prefer a public setting where I can't do anything hinky, but I can certainly come there, or you here. I just... There are things I wanted to make sure someone had told you.
I checked to make sure you were likely to be alone. I don't want to cause strain, and I've done enough of that over the years. So. If you want to write your answer on the back, Dob will bring back your answer--no evidence of our contact, then, on your end, you know? If you don't want to hear from me or meet, that's all right, and I won't bother you again.
Harry
P. S. I do have a charm in your back garden that will notify me if you need me, though. It's only fair to tell you.
Petunia scowled, then sighed and found a pencil. She scribbled her reply on the back and took it to the little brown owl. "Here."
It blinked at her, then blinked again, then with a shuffling of feet, leaned to one side and stuck out its leg at her.
"It's to Harry Potter."
The owl gave her a look she was certain was disdainful, and wiggled the leg, doing a little hopping dance.
"I suppose you knew that."
It blinked again, then set its foot down, gathered itself, and flapped across to the couch, where it picked up in its beak the ribbon with which the letter had been tied. It flapped back, opened its beak, leaving the ribbon hanging, and waited.
"Oh. Right. Tie it back to you. I've never actually sent a letter with an owl before." She took the little string and attached the note. "Sorry. I don't mean to be thick. If you can understand me."
She got the sense if the owl had had lips, it would have wrinkled them in her direction.
"Oh. And there are. They always used to give the owls a little snack?"
The owl gave an excited little hop at that, so she went to the table and retrieved the remains of her scrambled eggs. "Will this do?"
It ate in gulps and grabs, then went to the window and launched from it.
She went to get dressed. Eleven was soon.
--
The café wasn't crowded so early, but still, she sat in the corner away from anyone else. Just in case. She'd brought the latest thriller, checked out from the library, and read while she waited.
"Hi. Mind if I sit?"
Petunia looked up. Harry had changed. His hair was longer, now, pulled into a long tail like the young men that irritated Vernon so, and he'd filled out through the chest and shoulders. "Are you…" she paused. "You still have the eyes."
Harry nodded. "I don't think I could not have them if I wanted to. I did cast a bit of a charm, though; I don't think anyone but you is likely to really notice me. Well. The girl will, when she takes our order, but then she'll find me unremarkable."
"I'm always unremarkable." Petunia blushed, uncertain why she'd said that, but Harry shook his head and reached for her hand, then yanked his fingers back.
"Sorry. I. You shouldn't say that. Just because you weren't able to go to Hogwarts. Uh. Maybe I should start at the beginning."
The girl came to take their order before Petunia could answer that, and Harry ordered sandwiches, soup, and tall glasses of fizzy cola for both of them before she managed to say a word. "I'm not all that hungry," she said as the girl left.
"On me," Harry said. He looked away for a moment, then met her eyes. "I won," he said. "I mean, I imagine you worked that out when the weird weather and stuff stopped happening, but I still wasn't sure whether anyone had told you?"
"We got a letter in the Muggle post from your Kingsley," she said. "It was brief."
"Kingsley's Minister now, you know."
"Honestly?" Petunia blinked. "We've had the Minister to tea?"
"More or less. He's a good man."
"I hope, or it would all be for nothing."
"Right." A shadow passed over Harry's face again. "There's a lot to the story, but I don't want to take your afternoon, so I'll try to be short. Just, there are a couple of things specifically I think you deserve to know. I probably should have been in touch sooner."
"About my…Lily?"
"Sort of. About Snape. About how… You knew Snape."
Petunia pressed her mouth into a tight line. "That was a long time ago."
"I know. And he worried you and you were angry, about the post."
"It didn't matter. It was only--"
"That you wanted to go with Lily. I saw."
"You saw?"
Harry sighed. "Did she ever tell you about Pensieves?"
Petunia shook her head, feeling the genesis of a headache creeping up the back of her neck. "No. We didn't speak a great deal, once things had started to go so odd."
Harry nodded. "I didn't think, but I didn't want to waste your time explaining. It's a device you can put your memories in, literally, so someone else can watch them. Or so you can. That's where I saw the post and the train. And Snape."
"You recovered Lily's memories somehow, then?" Petunia found herself once again failing to follow a conversation, something that had been far too common in the summers of their teenage years, and tried to make sense of what he was saying.
"No. Snape's."
"But I thought--"
"We all kind of thought. But then. Look. The thing I wanted to tell you was, you know Dumbledore told you about how my mother loved me, what that meant." Harry paused as the girl came back with their food, which neither of them touched.
"Yes," she said, once they were alone again. "But Snape was a nasty boy, talking about those awful things."
"I know, but he was right. And he was her friend."
"In a way, I suppose."
"No, I mean really. It was all really complicated, and it's still a little hard for me to talk about much." Harry picked at the lettuce hanging out the side of his sandwich. "Anyway. That's what I wanted to tell you. One thing, anyway. He was killed, there toward the end."
"Oh!" Petunia drew in a sharp breath than asked, "Did you do it, then?"
"No. Voldemort did. Because he wanted his wand. It was horrible."
Her soup was getting cold, which was a waste, and in any case she had no idea how to respond to that, so Petunia picked up her spoon and took a bite, but found it hard to swallow. She put the spoon down. "And you got his memories then?"
"Yeah. Before he. Well, in the last moments. He really was my mother's friend. He'd been watching me all this time, you know? Making sure I didn't die and such."
"I'd never have thought," Petunia said, dabbing at her lips with the paper napkin. "He seemed so angry as a boy, so dark."
Harry took a deep breath and sighed. "Yeah. I thought so too, for years. For all the time I knew him, until after he'd actually gone. It was a bit of a shock. Anyway. You knew him as a boy, and even if you didn't like him, I just…I thought you ought to know how things ended, and also it didn't seem right that no one from his childhood should know or care, you know?"
Petunia nodded, mechanically pushing her soup away. She took a sip of the cola then pressed her lips together again. "And it was because he was Lily's …what?"
Harry considered. "Given the rest of the timeline everyone put together, I guess you could say he was her last friend."
"No."
"What?"
"Well, unless sisters don't count."
Harry stared at her for a minute, then smiled, just a little. "No, they count. Thanks."
Petunia frowned. "You could see his memories? Watch them?"
"Yeah. You were in them. At the park. At the train."
She nodded. "Could I do that?"
"See his memories?"
"Yes. I…" Petunia looked down, then back up, eyes stinging. "I tried so hard to put her out of my mind for so long."
Harry blinked. "I don't know. If you want, I could bring a Pensieve sometime. If you'll let me. We could try."
"I might like that. Vernon--"
"Wouldn't have to know. I know."
She nodded. "There's just too much built up, there."
"I know. Even if you can't, well, I might have some ideas." Harry shifted in his seat and sipped at his cola. "How's Dudley?"
"Well. Seeing a nice girl from the university."
"He's not in school, is he?"
"No. Not much for the academics, my Dudley."
"Right." Harry looked at the food between them. "Are you going to eat anything?"
"No."
He waved his hand and most of the food vanished. "Sorry. Looks more normal." He stood. "I. I mentioned the charm," he said.
"In my back garden."
"Right. For if you need me. If you call me, I'll know."
She swallowed and picked up her nearly empty glass to finish the last of the cool drink. "Will I need you?"
"Not that I know of, but if you do. I mean, I know it was never your idea. But sixteen years, so."
"So it's because you owe me?"
"No. Because my mother loved you." Harry grinned a little. "And because it's barely possible Dudley's child one day will need me. I can't imagine you'd want to take in another one,and I'm pretty sure you know it can't really just be ignored."
She shuddered before she could stop herself, but managed to get the response under control. "What else did you want to tell me?" she asked after a moment.
He shrugged. "I think in not so long I might be getting married."
"Married! You're not even nineteen!"
"I know. Not this week or anything. Only I thought you should know. Anyway. That was all." Harry stood and held out his hand to help her up.
She gripped the straps of her bag in her other hand, but let him help her, then before she could help it, leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Send an invitation," she said. "If you want." She turned away before he could answer, but he grabbed her arm, his grip firm but gentle.
"Thanks," he said. "I'll send Dob. About the memories, too."
She nodded, and hurried out of the cafe before she could ask what had happened to the other owl or who the girl was or whether Severus Snape had left any family.
It was a week before Vernon noticed the thick perch and little feeder she'd put up outside the kitchen window.
She told him it was for the garden wrens.
Dudley, eating a pair of poached eggs on toast, raised his eyebrows, but didn't contradict her.