The Legend of the Phoenix Well

Chapter One: Aunt Marge's Visit

A snowy white owl made its way through the unusually cold air, and landed on the sill of a window, folding its wings. She had returned without anything, as the prey to be had was dwindling. Lethargically, the owl rapped its beak quickly on the windowpane to attract its owner's attention. Nothing happened. The owl rapped its beak again, this time more urgently. The teenage boy inside stirred this time, but it took another few raps to get him to open his eyes blearily and shuffle to the window, yawning.

"Hey, Hedwig," Harry said tiredly. "What're you doing back so early?"

Hedwig hooted reproachfully, and flew to her perch, nestling in her feathers. Her amber eyes watched her sixteen-year-old owner look at the clock, then groan. "Four o' clock," Harry said. "Four o' clock. Hedwig, next time try to come back a little later."

The owl hooted indignantly, and turned on her perch. Harry looked at the scrolls of parchment strewn across the desk of his room. His potions book was still there, an adequate pillow. Harry sighed and shuffled his homework he had been working on into a messy pile, and stacked his books randomly. Three hours of sleep was as good as it would get. Harry was lucky he even fell asleep in a chair. The day before, he had collapsed on the floor. Looking longingly at his bed, which had not been slept in since he had gotten back to Privet Drive three days before, Harry dragged his N.E.W.T.S. potions essay from the pile and dipped his quill in his ink bottle, ready to write more.

Hermione ran, signaling for Harry to follow. "Harry, we'll be late for Divination! Come on! Professor Lupin will be so mad at us if we don't show up for class on time! You know how he set his shawl on fire last time!"

"But Professor Lupin doesn't teach Divination!" Harry said. "And you quit in third year!"

Fred and George rounded the corner, riding on Sir Cadogen's pony. "Harry, do your Arithmancy homework," George said sternly.

"And Harry, we have Quidditch practice today!" Malfoy said, taking the place of Fred. His father in his fifteen-year-old self flew in on Hedwig's back.

"Get up!" he shouted. "Get up this moment and cook breakfast!"

"But I am awake!" Harry protested. "And I was just coming here to snog Parvati Patil!"

"Harry James Potter, wake up right now!" James screeched.

"I was just going to Home Ec!" Harry said. "We're making Christmas baubles!"

"NOW!"

Harry tumbled out of his chair. "Cho gave me Chocolate Frog cards," he mumbled, still half asleep. He opened his eyes, and saw Aunt Petunia towering over him, looking down.

"Get up! And make sure you don't burn the bacon!" she screeched. "And wipe your face. There's ink all over it!" She stormed out of the room. Harry yawned, and forced himself to stand up. He viewed himself in the mirror, and defiantly wiped his potions essay off his face. Groaning, he crumpled his now ruined essay and threw it in the garbage bin next to his desk.

Without changing his appearance at all, Harry shuffled down with his even more tousled hair, crooked glasses put on carelessly in his sleepiness, and yesterday's clothes. His teachers in N.E.W.T. level classes had given them so much homework for the summer that year; Harry would be surprised if Hermione finished it all. Then there was studying for his Apparating license, and the ridiculous dreams that always ended with either Cedric, his parents, or Sirius blaming him for their deaths.

Uncle Vernon was in his usual spot and position, reading the newspaper with a mug in front of him. He was chewing thoughtfully, reading an article on possible inflation of the pound. Aunt Petunia was cutting strawberries to put on Dudley's cereal, and did not look up when Harry entered. Dudley was, as usual, staring at the television, stuffing his mouth. As "a wonderful boxing champion" in Petunia's words, Dudley didn't need a diet.

Harry got the frying pan out and began to cook bacon. He never paid attention to it, always allowing his mind to wander to more important topics. Like why Voldemort had done nothing since the prophecy fiasco at the end of his fifth year. Perhaps he was onto something. An immortality potion, or another weapon. The smell of burning bacon stopped Harry. Hurriedly, he slid the bacon onto a plate, out of the frying pan.

The wrestling match Dudley had been watching suddenly turned into Jim McGuffin with the weather. Harry saw the remote in Uncle Vernon's hand, and turned back to his banana. Dudley, however, jumped and yelled, "Hey! I was watching the television!"

"Now, now, Duddlykins, Daddy just needs to watch the news for a little bit..." Aunt Petunia said in what she thought was a calming voice.

"I don't care! I want the television! It's mine!" Dudley yelled. "I WANT MY TELEVISION! I WANT..."

"Shut up," Harry said. "Act your age, will you?"

"I WANT MY TELEVISION! I WANT MY..."

"Shut up, Dudley!"

"I WANT MY TELEVISION! I WANT MY TE...."

"Shut up!"

"I WA..."

"SHUT UP BOTH OF YOU!" Uncle Vernon roared. The room was silent, except for Jim, who was droning on. Uncle Vernon stared at everyone redfacedly, then turned back to the news.

"And now, back to Henry. Henry?" Jim said.

The anchor took over. "Thank you, Jim. A strange sight was found today over a farmhouse five miles from Glastonbury. A colossal... well, see for yourself."

A picture must have shown up on the television, because Dudley said in an awed voice, "Cool! Wonder who made that?"

Harry's head snapped up to look at the screen. His reaction was very different from Dudley's awed one. The Dark Mark hung in the air, and smoke came from the destroyed farmhouse under it. Harry swore loudly. No one noticed. They were still staring at the screen.

Henry went on. "Inside the farmhouse, however, three bodies were found. All were unmarked, and otherwise healthy, besides the fact that they were dead. Doctors could find no trace of illness, wounds, or anything out of the ordinary. The last person rescuers found was a crazed woman, shouting the words "Green Light"."

Harry expelled a breath. There was a peck on the window, and a light brown owl flew in, carrying a letter from Hermione. It was written in a hurry, and Harry had to struggle a bit to read it.

"Dear Harry," it read. "Did you see the Muggle news? The Dark Mark was found over a Muggle farmhouse... and that woman kept on saying "Green Light". Voldemort's back in action. I know it."

Harry turned the paper Hermione had probably grabbed as the first thing she saw, and grabbed a pencil from the kitchen counter. "Hermione, yes I saw the news. But he only began now. What has he been up to for the past year?" he wrote. Quickly, he attached the note to the owl's leg, aware the Dursleys were watching him.

Suddenly feeling very awake, he stared back at the Dursleys. "This... killing," Uncle Vernon said, clearing his throat. "It has to do with... your kind, doesn't it? This... Vodlemort character... or whatever."

"Voldemort," Harry corrected.

"Yes. Well," Uncle Vernon said. "World's better off without more of you weirdos. This Voldemort's got the right idea, killing off you strange people."

If the situation had been less grim, Harry would have laughed in Vernon's face at the irony of it. "It's not us he's killing off. He's one of us. Those people he killed. They're people like you," Harry said coldly. "People who can't do magic. That's the first step. Then he moves onto people who are from non-magic families, but can do magic. Then people who have one magical parent and one non-magic or non-magic born. Then the full wizards and witches who stand up to him. But you would be the first to go under his reign."

Uncle Vernon turned red, then chalk white. "F-first?" he stuttered.

"First," Harry said. "But don't worry. I've been saving you since the day I was put on your doorstep. You're safe because of me. But once I'm gone, the protection leaves." He left the kitchen table, leaving a pale Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, and a still chewing Dudley.

The Dursleys tried to act nonchalant the whole day. Harry, however, could see the fear in their eyes. At dinner, Dudley stopped chewing twice. Normally, he ate the whole meal. Aunt Petunia kept on trying to give Harry extra helpings. Vernon refrained from making comments about Harry's hair.

"I'm going out," Harry announced, getting out of his chair.

"You will not!" Vernon said, pushing Harry down again forcefully.

Dudley burped. "I'm leaving," he said.

"You will not!" Vernon said again. Both Dudley and Harry looked at Vernon in surprise.

"And why can't we leave?" Harry asked.

"Marge is coming," Vernon said. "You will stay to greet her."

Harry tried to keep calm. Aunt Marge, possibly the worst thing that could happen to Harry in the Muggle world. She hadn't visited since the summer before his third year, and Harry meant to not see her ever again. He was afraid he might blow her up again, though if it were after July 31 that year, he'd only break the Code of Secrecy. "When?" he asked dully.

"Tonight. I have to pick her up. And you'd best be on your best behavior... which means no you-know-what," Vernon said. "She's staying the whole summer. Said that it wasn't safe at home. After all, the attack was a mile away from her."

"If she's on her best behavior," Harry said.

"And be civil."

"If she is."

"Good," Vernon said. He strode out of the room, slammed the door, and walked to the car. Harry could hear the engine turn on, and the crunching of gravel as Uncle Vernon backed out of the driveway. Sighing, Harry went back up the stairs to finish his homework.

Name: Harry James Potter

Age (If under 17, write 17): 17

Date of Birth: 31/7/80

Test Date: 3/8/97

Harry finished filling the form out for his Apparation test. He wondered how he would get to the Ministry if Aunt Marge was at Privet Drive. Maybe he could drive. But that would mean getting a driver's license before August 3. Harry pushed the forms away, and pulled his Auror applications toward him. Ten different forms just to get into Auror School.

Shaking his head, Harry got up from his chair, and unlatched Hedwig's cage. "You're going to have to stay at Ron's, okay?" he said. Hedwig hooted, and held out her leg. Harry tied the note he had written before to it, and Hedwig flew off into the night. Sighing, Harry turned back to the pile of parchment and books and gathered them up. He had to hide them in case Aunt Marge decided to take a peek inside a "deranged criminal's" room. He opened the door to his wardrobe and stacked the pile next to his other supplies, then locked the door.

The crunching of gravel announced Uncle Vernon and Aunt Marge's arrival. Knowing Marge would want Harry downstairs, he began to walk down the stairs as slowly as he could, so he wouldn't have to see his dreaded relative before he had to. He was still in the middle somewhere when he heard Aunt Marge and Aunt Petunia greet each other, and near the bottom when Dudley was hugged. Dreading the last step, Harry forced himself to step onto it, and make his way to the entrance hall.

Choosing to remain as far from Marge as he could without provoking her, he leaned against the door frame in the kitchen, where she could see him, but he was far away enough not to feel sick.

While Aunt Marge had looked huge during her last visit, she now resembled Umbridge to Harry. "Was I really that short the last time she came?" Harry thought, shrugging. Luckily for him, it took Marge a minute to notice him.

"Still here, eh?" she asked nastily. Harry looked at her. The answer was obvious. "Answer me!" she said. "Apparently, school hasn't taught you anything. Still as impudent as usual."

Harry sighed inwardly. This would be a long two months.

***

Surprisingly, Harry was able to survive the first month without cracking. This was mainly because he spent all day at Mrs. Figg's house, where he could talk to Ron using Floo Powder, or doing wizarding things like his homework and applications. The first day of Aunt Marge's visit, the Dursleys had taken her to a restaurant. Harry seized the chance to move all his things to Mrs. Figg's house.

On the day of his birthday (which the Dursleys didn't notice) Harry walked down the stairs to find the family doing the usual... eating avidly, with the exception of Petunia. Petunia stared at Harry, as though expecting him to whip his wand out and do magic, just because he had turned seventeen. Harry was quite annoyed. Just because his father had come over to his mother's house after their seventh year with Sirius, and turned teacups into rats did not mean he would do the same. After all, James had never been expelled from Hogwarts.

Marge was the first to stop eating. "I do like the way Dudley's turned out," she said. "He's the handsome one of the family." Harry refrained himself from rolling his eyes. Yeah, right.

"Now, this one," she said, gesturing at Harry. Here we go again, Harry thought. "This one is the scapegoat. Malnourished and pale. Probably never had a girlfriend in his life."

What about Cho, Parvati, Lavender, Susan, and even Hermione for about three days? Harry thought.

"Just give Dudley a bit of time, and girls will be flocking to him," Aunt Marge droned on. Harry took the time to put his glasses in their case, which he never used. He had found a tricky eye-repairing charm in his sixth year book that he accomplished that morning. It was quite new, just invented the year before. "... girls love blond boys," Marge finished.

"I'm leaving now," Harry said. He put his glasses in its case back into the cabinet, and strode out the door before anyone could stop him. He wanted to see what everyone had sent him for his birthday.

Mrs. Figg was watching the morning news when Harry came. She smiled. "Happy Birthday, Harry!" she said. "Lots of owls for you, my boy!"

Hedwig flew up to Harry, carrying Mrs. Weasley's cooking. Harry supposed Errol was too weak to carry it. A fluffy tiny ball came in contact with Harry's shoulder, and Ron's owl Pig began to zoom around Harry's head, finally depositing a package from Ron. Ron's gift was a book on Quidditch tactics, and a note wishing him luck on getting the Quidditch captaincy if Ron himself wasn't there to see him get it.

The same tawny owl from Hermione dropped Hermione's gift next. A gift that was typical of Hermione: A book on Defense Against the Dark Arts. Her note told him that she had gotten the tawny owl at Diagon Alley, and named her Rowena after the Hogwarts founder (after all, she couldn't name her Godric).

Next was Fred, George, and Ginny's present. Knowing them, it was sure to be some kind of prank kit. Ginny had followed Fred and George's footsteps, though she planned to become serious after school. For the meantime, however, she helped Fred and George at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, which was thriving. Ginny had gotten over Harry after the Yule Ball, and they were friends.

It wasn't a surprise when Harry unwrapped a box of fireworks, small amounts of each firework. Harry remembered the occasion with Umbridge and the fireworks in fifth year, and smiled. Umbridge had been on the verge of going crazy that day.

The last present was from the people at the Order. Tonks had sent him a T-shirt with the words "Gryffindor Rules, Slytherin Stinks (especially at Quidditch)". This was one gift he couldn't wear anywhere but the wizarding world, but he liked it. Lupin had sent him a baseball cap that read "Prongs Jr." Harry smirked, and put it on. Uncle Vernon would have a fit, but it would be worth it. Moody had so nicely written him a letter on "Constant Vigilance", his favorite phrase in the world, and warned him not to stick his wand in his back pocket. Harry laughed. It was a bit of an inside joke between him and Tonks, the way Moody went on about knowing someone who lost a buttock to careless wand procedures. They believed the victim had been Moody himself, and last year, when the meetings of the Order had been held at the Burrow, Harry and Tonks had immaturely tried to extract "the truth" from the grizzled retired Auror.

Mrs. Figg came into the living room with Moochie, her newest cat. "Nice presents? Still giggling about Moody's lost buttocks, are we?" she asked, guessing correctly. For a Squib, Harry could have sworn she was a Legimens or a Seer. "Oh, yes, Harry dear, I have a little something for you as well..."

She held out a package wrapped in brown butler paper, and Harry took it, wondering what was inside. Slowly, he opened the parcel, and found a small photo album in it. "Pictures, dear. You as a child. I knew the Dursleys never took any. They're for when people ask to see you as a child." Mrs. Figg lowered her voice. "She'd never admit this, but your aunt gave me pictures of your mother to put in there."

That was a surprise to Harry. Perhaps Petunia wasn't as heartless as he thought. "Thank you," was all Harry could manage. Mrs. Figg smiled. She knew what Harry was unable to say.

"But I gave you a teddy bear!" Malfoy wailed. "And I named it Michael Corner. Isn't that enough to pay back the Wizard debt?"

"But the teddy bear turned into Trelawney!" Cho moaned. "And Harry was just down here to write a letter to Winston Churchill!"

"My mother is a stuffed goose," Ron said, waving a Chocolate Frog card that had the picture of Elmo on it.

Suddenly, a black void appeared, swallowing Malfoy, Ron, and Cho. "You killed us, Harry!" Cedric shouted.

"No, Voldemort did!" Harry said.

"You walked into a trap, and I died!" Sirius accused.

"We died because you were born!" Lily said.

"You made me grab the Cup with you!" Cedric wailed.

"No... it's..." Harry stammered.

"You are the cause of our murders!" Bertha Jorkins screamed.

"You're right!" Harry sank to his knees. "It's my fault..."

"My fault... you all died because of me... my fault..." Harry opened his eyes. It was dark outside already. He must have fallen asleep when he got home that afternoon. He looked at his bedside clock. It was nine at night. The Dursleys would still be downstairs. Suddenly, a piercing shriek burst the silence. Harry leapt up. The shriek was unmistakably Aunt Petunia's.

Grabbing his wand from the table, and thrusting it into his jeans, he reached for his glasses next. He found none. Then he remembered the charm, and sprinted down the stairs.

A sense of coldness and darkness enveloped him as he walked down into the kitchen. He knew the feeling... dementors. Aunt Petunia was shrinking back against the wall, staring at a black, cloaked dementor. It let out raspy, shaky breaths, and was going closer. The other three were huddled together, eyes darting all over the place, looking for the horror Petunia was scared of.

Wait a second, Harry thought. Aunt Petunia's a Muggle... she can't see dementors... then why is she looking at that one? But it wasn't just one dementor. Three more glided in, and ten others framed the doorway. Dudley had begun to whimper as the lights went out.

Harry knew he had to do something... and this was a life or death situation, so he threw the Code of Secrecy aside and said, "Lumos." The tip of his wand lit up, and the dementors seemed to recoil a little for a moment. Dudley was shaking, Uncle Vernon was looking at Harry, eyes bulging, and Aunt Marge was staring avidly at the wand.

The dementors in the doorway began to glide into the kitchen, towards Harry. They must have been freed from Azkaban by Voldemort. Harry numbly felt a little defeat at the fact that the Death Eaters had escaped, and there was nowhere to put prisoners now, but the dementors were the priority.

Quickly, Harry thought of the time he had gotten his Hogwarts letter. "Expecto Patronum!" he shouted. The silver stag erupted from his wand, and began to circle the dementors. Two of the dementors were separated from the group, and glided out into the night. Harry groaned inwardly. His Patronus had been too weak to drive any others away.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a cloaked figure move towards the three Dursleys huddled in the middle. Petunia's dementor had abandoned her for the rest of the group, and she sat in the corner, shaking and breathing labored breaths. He spun to face the dementor headed towards the others, and saw it grasp Aunt Marge, whose piggy eyes were darting frightfully. Harry knew she felt the dementor's hands clamped on her shoulders, but couldn't see it.

"Expecto Patronum!" he yelled. Even though he had a mutual loathing with Aunt Marge, he had to save her. Uncle Vernon, however, jumped in front of the silver stag, which he could see, as though afraid it would hurt him or his family. "No!" Harry shouted. But it was too late. Aunt Marge's head disappeared beneath the dementor's hood. All the dementors turned to watch. Aunt Petunia shielded her eyes, as if she knew what was happening. Dudley was still shaking with his head between his knees. Uncle Vernon watched as his sister's head disappeared, making it look like she had been beheaded.

Harry stared, too shocked to move. His stag Patronus was chasing the other dementors away to get to the one with Aunt Marge, but he knew it was too late. With a morbid kind of clunk, Aunt Marge's head reappeared as the dementor released its hold of her, and she keeled over backwards, soul-less. The dementor fled as the stag rushed at it, threatening to gore it, after the others. The lights flickered back on.

"Nox," Harry said. The light at the tip of his wand flickered out. He stood, rooted to the spot, breathing shallowly as if he had just sprinted a 5K race. Dudley slowly raised his head, face pale and sweaty. Aunt Petunia stared at Marge, breathing heavily, rooted to the floor in shock.

Uncle Vernon crawled to Aunt Marge. "Marge?" he said, shaking her. Aunt Marge sat up, a vacant look in her eyes. Emotionlessly, she got up. "Marge?" Vernon said again. Aunt Marge continued to stare into space. Uncle Vernon rounded on Harry, who tightened his grip on his wand. "You've done something to her!" he said furiously.

Harry could only shake his head. He had never seen the Dementor's Kiss performed before, and didn't know if he ever wanted to again. Uncle Vernon turned red. "Don't deny it boy, you did it, put her right!" he seethed. When Harry continued to stare at him, Vernon grabbed a heavy glass ornament from the counter and flung it at Harry's head. Harry ducked in time for it to go sailing into the wall, then shatter.

He found his voice. "I didn't do it," he said quietly. "I saved you from ending up like her. There were dementors in here."

Uncle Vernon let out a snort of disbelief. "Those ruddy dementoids you made up last time to get out of trouble? Well, here's some news: there were none of your dementoids in here. You did... that... and you wanted to scare us with it. Well your little trick didn't work." He stared at Harry triumphantly.

"Fine. Think it's a trick. I, however, am sticking to my story," Harry said. Uncle Vernon stared at him, then jumped as there were several loud cracks, and ministry officials began to arrive.

"And they've come to snap your... stick," Vernon said, eyeing Harry's wand with a sneer.

Harry paid him no attention. "No, don't modify their memories!" he called to Arnie Peasegood of the Magical Reversal Squad. The wizard turned to Harry, and pocketed the wand he was about to use on Aunt Petunia.

Arthur Weasley strode up to Harry, looking worried. "Mrs. Figg alerted us about dementors going into your home," he said worriedly. "There was no one who had time to be on shift tonight."

"What are you doing in my house?" bellowed Uncle Vernon. The witches and wizards looked threatened. They pointed their wands at Vernon, ready to stun him.

"No!" Harry shouted.

"Ah, Harry! There you are!" an obnoxious, pompous voice (and right now, unwelcome) said.

"Percy," Harry said coldly. Percy Weasley, according to Ron, had apologized to the family over Easter. Only his parents accepted the apology, however, Percy's siblings all avoided him and gave him the cold shoulder. Harry hadn't seen Percy since his trial before fifth year, and last heard from him in a letter that advised Ron to break ties with Harry.

Percy was wearing new robes. "I've been promoted to Junior Minister," he said proudly.

"That's wonderful. I'm very happy for you," Harry said dryly, and insincerely. He hadn't quite forgiven Percy for turning, and giving Mrs. Weasley so much grief. Percy, however, didn't notice.

Amos Diggory, who worked for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, sneered. "In trouble again, Mr. Potter?" he asked. "Cedric was never in trouble."

Harry looked away. A witch next to Mr. Diggory scolded him, and then asked, "What happened? Did Majorie Dursley receive the Dementor's Kiss?" Harry had seen her at the Auror Headquarters. He put two and two together, and assumed she was an Auror. Harry related the tale to the Ministry officials.

Experts from St. Mungo's looked at Aunt Marge. "She'll have to be kept in St. Mungo's. There's nowhere else," one said.

Uncle Vernon was livid. "Can't she be kept somewhere normal?"

The expert looked confused, but said, "No, Muggles wouldn't understand it. Er... that's non-magic people, if you don't know."

"But..." Uncle Vernon said.

"Let them be," Aunt Petunia said, surprising everyone.

"Ah, yes, Mrs. Dursley," an Auror, who Harry was sure was called Dawlish, said, pulling out a piece of parchment. "My recording quill picked up that your nephew said you were looking at the dementor? But you are non-magic? And... non-magical people cannot see dementors. Care to explain that?"

Aunt Petunia paled. "I choose not to. Just know that I saw it." She walked briskly out of the room. A few Aurors started to follow, but the others stopped them.

"Well..." Dawlish said. "I believe everything is in order..." The officials started to Disapparate, and the healers from St. Mungo's took Aunt Marge with them. Finally, only Tonks, Mr. Weasley, and to Harry's disgust, Percy, remained.

"Harry, we believe it's best for you to return to the Order," Mr. Weasley said. "Have you an Apparating license yet?"

"No. My test's on the third," Harry said. "I just turned seventeen."

Mr. Weasley smiled. "My, how time flies. We'll be here tomorrow, then, to pick you up."

"Are we going back to the Burrow?" Harry asked.

"Grimmauld Place," Mr. Weasley said. "Look," he said, "don't let it get to you. You know what I'm talking about. Sirius wouldn't have wanted you to mope. Eh?" he said, grinning. Harry forced himself to grin back. Mr. Weasley and the other two Disapparated.

"Wotcher, Harry!" Tonks called, and then they were gone. Dudley stared in shock, and while Uncle Vernon was still surprised from the abruptness, Harry seized his chance to flee to his room.

There was a knock on the door, a bit tentative and anxious. The door opened, and the slim figure of Aunt Petunia was illuminated by the moonlight that streamed from the windows. Harry looked up from Quidditch Through the Ages, which he had taken from Mrs. Figg's house to read. He was surprised to see that Aunt Petunia did not have the scowl that she always wore when looking at Harry, and noticed that without it, she was prettier and looked more like his mother.

"Hello," Harry said. Aunt Petunia stood in front of him, fidgeting with a box in her hands. "Sit down," he said, moving over. Aunt Petunia looked nervously at the moving illustrations in the book, with the Snidget moving across the page, then smiled tentatively and sat down slowly.

"I heard you were leaving tomorrow," she said quietly. "And... this is the last time, isn't it? Your last year at... H-Hogwarts. You won't come back after, will you?"

Harry was surprised that Aunt Petunia had said Hogwarts. He was even more surprised that there was a note of sadness in her voice. "Yeah," he said slowly.

"I-I realized today that I would never see you again. And... I wanted to tell you that the reason I could see the dementors was that... well... I was once invited to go to your school. I turned it down. When... Lily got her letter, and accepted, I was jealous. I thought she would decline too, choose to spend her time with me. I realized I was foolish, but wouldn't admit it. So... I made her life horrible at home. And I was jealous of you as well," she said softly, and sincerely. "I-I'm sorry."

Harry stared at her for a moment, then grinned. "What else would I do besides forgive you?"

To his surprise, Aunt Petunia smiled the first smile she had ever smiled at him, and hugged him. "Promise to visit..." she said tearfully.

"I promise," Harry said, still a bit shocked. Aunt Petunia held on, then slowly let go, sniffing and wringing her hands.

"Oh, I forgot this," she said, pulling the box out. "It was with the letter that was with you that day... the letter said to keep it safe for you..."

Harry took it. Inside was a black string with a golden phoenix pendant strung on it. "Do you know what it is?" Aunt Petunia whispered. Harry shook his head. The phoenix seemed alive, and Harry could have sworn there was phoenix song somewhere.

"Thanks," he said, looking at his aunt.

"Of course," she said. She started to walk out. "Oh, and happy birthday," she added, then turned the corner.