Fears: Part 1

It was Harry's fifth week of summer holiday at the Dursley's. Harry had spent the majority of it in his room, only leaving to eat. The Dursleys, of course, had insisted upon this arrangement, but were quite disappointed when Harry voluntarily retreated to his room only minutes after they arrived at home.

Harry had kept his promise to Moody and Lupin by writing to them periodically to let them know that he was all right.

Harry lay on his bed, staring at the blank ceiling. The walls of his room were bare, not covered with his usual drawings of anything and everything in the wizarding world. The bulletin board that hung on the wall next to his bed was blank, not covered with his grades, school tie, and souvenirs from Hogsmeade.

All of Harry's belongings were stowed away in his trunk. The only thing Harry had removed from his trunk over summer holiday was the mirror Sirius had given Harry for Christmas before he disappeared behind the veil.

Although Harry knew the mirror was shattered and Sirius probably didn't have it, wherever he was, Harry had tried on countless occasions to contact him.

Hedwig flew through the open window, carrying a lilac envelope. Harry snatched it from her and ripped it open as Hedwig flew back out the window.

Dear Harry,

I realize you don't want to come to you-know-where, but it's for your own safety. It would be better if you were under Dumbledore's supervision. I will be there tomorrow morning to make sure you are ready. Lupin will pick us up at midnight. We can't risk being seen. See you tomorrow.

Love always,

Hermione

Harry angrily wadded the letter up into a tight ball and threw it across the room.

'I don't want to see anyone. I just want to be alone,' Harry thought. 'She doesn't understand. No one understands how I feel.'

A gentle rap came from the door. Harry glared at the door questioningly. No one in this house ever knocked before entering his room.

"Go away!" Harry yelled.

The door slowly creaked open. Aunt Petunia stood in the doorway, carrying a book and a sandwich.

"I thought you might want something to eat," she said, trying to sound generous, but still managing to coat her words with ice.

"I'm not hungry," Harry said shortly, his eyes returning to the ceiling.

He heard Aunt Petunia set the sandwich on his bedside table, followed by the shake of his bed beneath him.

His eyes immediately moved from the ceiling to the end of the bed, where Aunt Petunia was seated.

He glared at her and sneered, "What do you want?"

"I want to talk," she said, sounding pleasant.

"Well, I don't."

"Then, I want you to listen," Aunt Petunia told him.

Harry stared back at the ceiling, not wanting to hear his aunt.

"I know how you're feeling," she said quietly.

"No you don't," Harry said coldly. "No one does."

"Who is it?" Aunt Petunia asked.

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"Who died?" she asked, staring straight into his eyes.

Harry looked into his aunt's tear-filled eyes. "Sirius..."

"Sirius?" she repeated. "Who's Sirius? Wait! Your godfather?"

Harry nodded slightly. "How did you know?"

"Your reaction to everything, you're distracted. You have the same look I had for years after your mother died."

"Harry, I could never hate her. She was my sister," Aunt Petunia said. "I was just jealous of her. Of course, who wouldn't? She was perfect. She had everything anyone could ever want."

Harry imagined his mother's face in the Mirror of Erised. He knew every angle of it. He knew it almost as well as he knew his best friends, even after only seeing pictures.

"I'd look into your eyes and I'd see her looking back at me, Harry," Aunt Petunia said. "Your eyes are just like hers."

"I know," Harry sneered. "Maybe you should have told me sooner."

"I can see I'm just wasting my time," Aunt Petunia said, getting up to leave the room.

"Wait!" Harry shouted. Aunt Petunia immediately turned around, her cheeks stained with tears.

"What's that?" Harry asked, motioning toward the book in her hands.

"I thought you might want to read it," Aunt Petunia said, handing it to him. "It's a diary; your mother's."

Before Harry could say anything, Aunt Petunia had left the room.

Harry stared at the leather book in his hands. He slowly opened to the first page.

The Diary of Lily Marie Evans

Dear Lily,

We love you with all of our hearts and wish you the best of luck at Hogwarts. Good luck and Have fun!

Love,

Mum and Dad

Harry stared at the page. It finally hit him that he was holding his mother's diary.

He, again, turned the page and read.

August 1, 1971

Dear Diary,

Mother and Father bought this diary as a congratulations gift. Yesterday I was accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Mother and Father thought it was a fake letter, but this morning, some bloke in a funny looking robe showed up on our doorstep. He explained about the school and did a bit of magic for us. It was amazing. He explained that 'Muggles" are non-magic people and every year several are accepted to Hogwarts. He explained how to get to the wizarding community, Diagon Alley, in London. There I'll be able to buy my school supplies. Petunia seems a bit jealous, but I'll be sure to be extra nice to her until I leave for school. Mum and Dad have been really great about letting me go to Hogwarts, but I feel like they're leaving Petunia out. I think she should get just as much attention even if I'm the one who's going to be a witch. Well, that's it for now. I'll write more when I get back from Diagon Alley tomorrow, and that's a promise.

Love,

Lily

Harry closed the book and hugged it to his chest. He felt like he was holding a piece of his mother. Warm tears slid from his eyes.

Harry got up and walked down the stairs, still carrying the diary. "Aunt Petunia?" he called.

"Yes?" she said, from the living room.

Harry entered the living room and spotted her on the couch, a photo album open on her lap.

"I'm ready to talk," Harry told her.

A smile formed on her face. She patted the cushion next to her. Harry sat down next to her and asked, "Can you tell me about my parents?"

Aunt Petunia's smile widened. "Well, your mother was beautiful and just perfect. Your father, well, he was the most handsome boy I had ever met. He was charming and a real romantic."

Harry grinned. He had wanted to hear about his father the most, but hadn't thought his aunt would know much.

"For their first date, your father took Lily to a little café in London. She said it was the best day of her life. Your father had nagged her for years to date him, but she didn't give in until their final year at school."

Harry remembered the scene he saw in Snape's pensieve. He remembered his mother and father's horrible bickering. He couldn't imagine them acting civil toward each other.

"But, this is all in your mother's diary. I hope you'll read it. I used to read it to you late at night when you were a baby. But only when you were asleep; that was the only time I could be with you, when your eyes were closed. When I couldn't see my sister looking back at me."

There was a long silence as Harry and his aunt stared off into the distance.

"Aunt Petunia, I'm scared," Harry admitted.

"You have no reason to be scared while you're here," she told him. "My blood protects you."

"Actually," Harry said, "It doesn't protect me anymore."

Aunt Petunia's jaw dropped and her face turned pale. "What?"

"It's a long story," Harry explained. "But the main thing is that your blood, my mum's blood, doesn't protect me anymore because Voldemort has some of my blood in him."

Aunt Petunia opened her mouth, but nothing came out. "Aunt Petunia, are you alright?"

She nodded slightly. "I-I just c-can't believe it.

"I've spent all this time believing that you were safe, that I was, that we were safe, and now I found out that we're not."

"It's okay, Aunt Petunia. I won't let anyone hurt you or Dudley, or Uncle Vernon, no matter how much I hate you all sometimes," Harry comforted her.

Aunt Petunia let out a bit of a chuckle, muffled by her sobs.

"Harry, one thing I've wanted to say since we first found you on our doorstep and treated you so badly, was that I'm sorry. I'm sorry that we've treated you so horribly and blamed any abnormalities on you."

"Aunt Petunia, I want to say that I'm sorry I always talked about you behind your back, but I'm not sorry about talking about Uncle Vernon and Dudley behind their backs."

"Harry, this was supposed to be a touching moment between us, but you keep ruining it," Aunt Petunia scolded him.

"Sorry," Harry apologized. "But I'm glad we talked. I needed it."

"Me too, Harry. Me too."