Harry Potter and the Valley of Souls

Chapter 3- Werewolves and Buttercups

Harry gaped in shock as his former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor emitted another low growl. He made a move to stand between his aunt and Professor Lupin, but Aunt Petunia caught his eye and he, again, sat back on the bed. Lupin never lost eye contact with the woman who lay prostrate on the floor, her dress getting soiled by the owl droppings and smudging parchment. She was struggling to find her feet when he spoke again.

"Still insisting on playing with magic, are you?"

At the sound of his voice, Petunia dropped back down to the floor, not bothering to try and rise up. His razor-sharp sarcasm cut the palatable tension in the air only for a moment before coming back together heavier than before. Harry watched his aunt as the emotions played across her face- despair, hurt, embarrassment, fury. Finally, she raised her head to lock her eyes with Lupin's.

"Remus Lupin," her voice was overflowing with revulsion. "You should leave. Now. Vernon will be home for lunch soon."

"Still lying to an armed wizard, Buttercup. It's Thursday and you know I know that pompous git won't be home for lunch on Thursday." Both Harry and his aunt stared at Lupin in amazement. The older wizard was quite right. On Thursdays, Uncle Vernon would join the other men from Grunning's at the local men's club a lunch of brandy and cigars. Though he'd long suspected as much, Harry now had no doubt that the wizards knew everything about the comings and goings of Vernon and Petunia Dursley and their son.

Petunia sputtered angrily. "The name is Petunia, LOONY. You can't intimid--"

Lupin muttered something under his breath, sending a spark from his wand. Petunia shook and quivered under the obviously harmless light display, sending Lupin into peals of maniacal laughter.

"Can't intimidate you, can I? You sick wench. Fifteen years of lying to a child wasn't enough for you, I see."

"And you know something about hurting children, don't you? Still feeding off of them in the dead of night?"

"Perhaps I should teach you something about cleaning that filthy, lying mouth."

"You should learn about cleaning that filthy body first. How dare you step into my house in those rags?"

Lupin muttered another spell and his rags were transformed into glorious robes. His hair tied itself back and the dirt that smudged his face was instantly erased. Harry had to admit that the man could be quite presentable when he allowed himself to be and was amused to see that Aunt Petunia was obviously thinking the same thing. She may be angry at his intrusion, but she was a woman who could appreciate a handsome man. Lupin flicked the wand around the room and everything, from Petunia's dress to the parchments on the floor suddenly became neat and orderly.

"I'm clean now, Petunia. Do you deign to talk to me like a man?"

"Hardly, Loony," Petunia was still bitter as she rose to face him. Her hands planted themselves on her hips and her face registered a dangerous expression Harry knew all too well. "You're not a man, you never were. You're a monster. A filthy, dirty monster."

Lupin shut his eyes as his cheeks flushed scarlet. Not wanting to give up the advantage she had found, she continued at full blast.

"You were all monsters. You and Peter and Sirius and, and Potter," saliva flew, unchecked, from her pursing lips. Harry gawked as Petunia exploded with fifteen years of unresolved anger. "Potter was a worthless piece, getting Lily involved with you lot. And see what it got her?"

Harry screamed inwardly. His vocal chords were paralyzed by anger. Though he had heard many of these words before from Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, the language seemed fresh now, as if the wounds were reopening, deeper than before. There was venom in her tone that Harry had never detected before. Whenever his mother's sister launched into his parents, Harry could at least pretend he could detect a tiny bit of wistfulness in her voice, as if she didn't really believe the words she was shouting. This time, though, he could find only hate and anger. He wanted to defend his parents, to scream, to protest, but impotent silence was his only response.

Lupin, however, had no trouble expressing his opinion.

"It got her more than you'll ever have." He moved forward and grabbed her around the waist. His voice was cruel and cold. They stood there, nose-to-nose, eye-to-eye; both obviously unaware that Harry was watching them, his head volleying back and forth like a spectator at Wimbledon. "It got her a husband she adored and a baby you were given to raise. A million families would have been happy to have Harry when his parents died, but he was--"

"Dropped on me," Petunia's lips were white with rage, but she stopped struggling under Lupin's grip. Her spittle covered his face, but he made no move to wipe it off. "I can't pretend to ignore why his parents didn't want you to have him. I supposed they'd fear you'd eat him if you were hungry enough."

Lupin shoved her roughly from him and turned away. Harry could see he was struggling not to strike her.

"You're lucky they snapped your wand, Buttercup. If you could still do magic, I'd enjoy winning our duel."

"Fine example you're setting for Harry."

Lupin turned to the bed and looked at Harry for the first time. His eyes widened in alarm as he took in his first glimpses of the boy's obvious change in appearance. Harry was suddenly aware of just how exposed he was. Lupin's bottom lip quivered as he struggled to create a reassuring smile that did not reach his eyes.

"I'm not his guardian," he said regretfully.

"You're not his godfather, either."

Harry caught his breath as his heart seared in pain. He thought it would burst right there in the middle of the room. Lupin rushed to grab him as he swayed and Harry was grateful that he was still sitting. Petunia, focused only on her rage, continued to fire painful, cutting words.

"You didn't think I knew, did you?" She was clearly enjoying her tirade. Her words dripped with acrimonious poison. "I knew Lily didn't want me to raise Harry. My precious baby sister never trusted me after I was chucked out of the wizarding world. No hope for reconciliation, obviously."

She laughed again bitterly. "I would have hoped, though, she'd have done the responsible thing and named Peter, seeing that her worthless husband insisted on having one of you lot. I've often wondered how Sirius won the lucky baby lottery. Not that he did a very good job of it. Was it just twenty-four hours into his responsibility that he was arrested? That must be some sort of record."

Her voice filled with sickening glee as Harry's brain flashed on an image of another woman triumphing in another's pain. Bellatrix Lestrange had laughed as she killed Sirius and now, Petunia was laughing as she sabotaged him to his best friend and surrogate son. Harry wanted to escape, to run, but was held in place not only by Lupin's firm grip, but his complete astonishment.

"Leave him out of it."

Harry voice came back to him, soft, but determined. It was Petunia's turn to gape, as if just noticing that Harry had been there, listening to the conversation all along.

Lupin patted him in an attempt to calm and comfort the shaking boy. He leaned down to whisper in Harry's ear. "You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do." His voice was stronger now. A summer of silence was making up for itself as he found the strength to confront his aunt. "Aunt Petunia, you've said too much."

"Well, well another Potter comes to the defense of Black." She gave him an indignant look, her anger erasing all feelings of compassion she'd felt before Lupin intruded. His presence erased any understanding Harry and his aunt had been awkwardly forging and Harry, too, was regretting the lost opportunity. "I don't care how much I loved your mother. The men she chose to surround herself with were disgraceful. You should know that, boy."

"There is a great deal more that I should know, Aunt Petunia. Including the truth."

Harry could feel Lupin's eyes on him, searching his face for a way in, for a way to divert Harry's attention from the questions that begged to be asked and answered. He touched Harry's pallid cheek gently, encouraging the boy to turn in his direction. There was an unmistakable waver in Lupin's voice that Harry hadn't heard since the first moments after...after the events in the Department of Mysteries. "Harry, we've all been so worried. Hermione is beside herself and young Ron --"

Harry's eyes were locked on the older wizard's and Lupin was amazed to see maturity far beyond his years. "Professor, with all due respect, you're not going to change the subject."

He turned back to his aunt and cast the same determined gaze in her direction. "Aunt Petunia, now you have until the count of five."

"Well, I never," Petunia sputtered.

"No, Aunt Petunia. You never. You never did a lot of things, including love me, or trust me, or care for me."

"I was under no obligation," she huffed indignantly, her voice rising with every word. "You have a godfather, but he couldn't be bothered, could he? Too concerned with avenging the deaths of two people who knew better than to play with fire than to raise you, eh? And it was he who caused those deaths, wasn't it, Lupin? You know that. Where is he now, Harry? Not here, we see. He escapes from prison and still can't be bothered to come and get you. That certainly shows he loves the little baby Potter. "

Harry didn't know how he found his feet, but in an instant, his hands were at Petunia's throat. His translucent fingers wrapped themselves around her long neck while Lupin shouted incomprehensible words. Harry could feel Petunia's breaths grow shallower under his assault and her eyes started to roll back in her head. Suddenly, he felt himself lift as Lupin grabbed him around the chest, pulling him away. Petunia coughed and shuddered back to consciousness.

"Harry," Lupin whispered quietly, holding the boy back, patting him in an unsuccessful attempt to calm him. Harry struggled against Lupin's grip as the tears sprang up in his eyes. Cursing his own weakness as well as his aunt's insensitivity, he stopped fighting as Lupin murmured comforting words into his ear. "Don't do this. Petunia doesn't know what she's saying."

"I bloody well do know."

"Petunia," Lupin trained his eyes on her. "Obviously, no one has told you. Sirius Black is dead."

Vomit sprayed from Harry's mouth, hosing them both with the remnants of the little food Harry had eaten that morning. Lupin grabbed the sheet from the bed and immediately started to wipe Harry's face, using the tears that were now freely streaming down the boy's face as the water to wash him.

Aunt Petunia looked as if she had been shot.

"No, no, no, no, no," she wailed, burying her face in her hands. "Remus, you're lying!"

"I only wish I were, Petunia," Lupin said dejectedly. He laid Harry back down on the bed and walked over to the woman. Though he was covered in Harry's vomit, he reached out his hands to lift her up from the floor. She lunged forward, collapsing in his arms, crying and screaming Sirius' name while Lupin held her.

"Shhh," he muttered as she shrieked in agony. "The neighbors will hear you and we'll all be exposed."

Petunia quieted immediately. Harry had to give it to her, even in the depths of obvious despair, she valued keeping up appearances. She sniffled out the last of her tears as she let Remus kiss her gently on the forehead. He guided her over to the bed where Harry lay, sitting her down before settling between them.

"Oh, Remus, what happened?"

Lupin stared at the wall. "Voldemort. There was a battle and Sirius was killed."

Harry looked sharply at Lupin. "But, Professor Lupin--"

He grimaced as Lupin pinched his hand sharply, cutting off his attempt to correct his account of the turn of events. Harry gaped at him, but there was no explanation to be found as to the omission of Bellatrix Lestrange. Lupin's face betrayed no emotion, save compassion for the shaken woman who sat beside him.

"I really am sorry, Petunia," he whispered. "But it's good to know he still meant something to you, even after all of that trouble."

Petunia nodded and wiped her eyes. "Yes," she nodded slowly and said no more. Harry watched her as she seemed to age before him, the memory of lost -- what was it -- etching lines of despair across her face. What had Sirius meant to her to inspire such a reaction at the news of his death?

They sat on the bed together in silence, each lost in silent contemplation. Harry digested the morning's events while questions formed in his head. Though his suspicions of Petunia's ties to his second world had been confirmed, questions about the circumstances surrounding her expulsion left him raw and unfulfilled.

What could, he wondered wordlessly, she have done that was so bad that she was exiled from her family and the world she'd known? Even when Hagrid was expelled from Hogwarts, he was allowed to associate with wizards. People like the Lestranges and Lucius Malfoy, too. They killed people and yet, they were still wizards.

These questions, and a dozen more, swirled around his brain until Harry closed his eyes and fell into a fitful sleep.

He awoke several hours later. The window was open again and the owls that had been sitting on the sill waiting when he fell asleep were gone, their parchments once again littering the floor. Petunia and Lupin were also gone and Harry wondered if Lupin had left him to stay in the house for the rest of the summer. He certainly hoped not. He did not know what Petunia would be capable of if she suspected that Harry would expose her secret to her husband and son.

Footsteps moved up the stairs and there was a knock at his bedroom door. For the second time in one day, Petunia entered the room. She carried a glass of water and some toast.

"Here boy," she said. "This will settle your stomach."

Harry looked at her suspiciously.

"I didn't poison it," she shrugged. "Okay, I deserved that. Eat Harry, Lord knows you've probably forgotten how to do it properly."

Harry looked blankly at the dry bread. He knew she was trying to make amends in her own way, but wondered if she would bring up the morning's conversation. He didn't know how to find the words if he was going to have to do it himself. Laying the plate on the floor, he stared up at her.

She stared back, her eyes filled with pleading. "Harry, I don't merit your silence, but I need you to never tell Vernon and Dudley what you learned here today."

Harry was in no mood to make promises.

"What did you do? Why were you..."

"It's complicated, boy. Very, very complicated."

"Aunt Petunia, did my dad do something to you?"

Petunia's eyes softened again as she took in the boy's frightened expression. She cupped Harry's chin in her hand and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as she shook her head.

"No," she sighed. "No, not at all."

He let it go, relaxing for the first time in the presence of his aunt. The feeling faded quickly, though, as Remus reentered Harry's room. His rags were back and his hair was once again unkempt. This is certainly going to set Petunia off again, Harry thought, eyeing Lupin warily. To his great astonishment, however, the two adults looked at each other and smiled awkwardly.

"You're up, I see." He walked over to the bed and laid his hands gently on Petunia's shoulders.

"Harry," Lupin began. "Your aunt and I have had a chat and we believe it's best if you came back with me. You need some care and Dumbledore would have a fit if you returned to school looking the way you do now."

Go back to the wizarding world? Harry didn't know how to react. He started to open his mouth in what Petunia took to be a sign of protest and she shushed him with a wave of her hand. "Go with him, boy. I can't help you here and I don't think Vernon would let me try anyway."

So that was it, Harry reasoned. If I go, I'll be forced to relive all of the painful memories. But if I stay, I may as well die now. I'll never leave Privet Drive alive.

Defeated and torn, Harry nodded slowly. Lupin turned and picked him up from the shoulders. Up close, Harry was very aware of how old the man looked compared to the last time they saw each other, just a few months before. Grief had definitely not agreed with Professor Lupin and Harry wondered if he had aged that significantly as well. As he got a full grasp on the boy, Lupin let go.

"Er, I don't think carrying you would be the best idea," he said quickly. "Wouldn't look right to the muggles, you know? Do you think you can walk, Harry?"

Harry nodded and got out of bed. Lupin and Petunia looked away as Harry stood, leaving the boy to wonder if his bones would support the little weight still left. Suddenly very self-conscious and desperate to find something to occupy his hands, Harry gathered his schoolbooks, a summer's worth of unanswered letters, and already too-big clothes that now resembled circus tents on his diminishing frame. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Petunia and Lupin exchange glances every time Harry bent down, his backbone sticking out from his skin, but though Harry could hear sniffling from one or both of them, the adults didn't speak. Harry was glad for the silence.

When he had finished packing, Harry looked at the adults. Lupin was holding Petunia, supporting her with his arms. Petunia held Harry's wand in her hands, which she solemnly handed it back to him.

"I'm sorry, Aunt Petunia."

Petunia looked surprised and her eyes filled with tears.

"No, boy, don't."

Lupin cleared his throat and wiped his nose eyes with the back of his sleeve. Harry could see Petunia cringe at the gesture and was comforted by her familiar reaction to such a display.

"Shall we?" He moved forward to take the trunk in one hand and Hedwig's cage in the other. "Harry, I'll carry your belongings."

Petunia lurched toward Harry and gave him an uncomfortable hug. He tried not to cry out from the force of her arms around him. In all of his memories, she had never hugged him before, or touched him with any sort of compassion. For fifteen years, all he had wanted was to be shown a little love from the only link to his mother's family and now, he was leaving with the knowledge that she had done something so horrific that she was not allowed to be a part of the wizard community anymore. But just what had she done? He didn't push. He couldn't handle the truth right now anyway when he was so weak. He was simply grateful for the progress that the hug demonstrated and hoped that a door had been opened to allow for some answers when he was stronger.

"Goodbye, Aunt Petunia. See you next summer."

He followed Lupin out of his room and down the stairs, listening to the older man fill the silence with words.

"We'll walk to Arabella Figg's house." Lupin spoke quickly, never looking back to Harry. "There's a Portkey set up there for us and I'll take you back to...well, I'll take you back. Lord, Harry, I'll be glad when you can apparate, but I daresay they'd never let you take the test in your condition. You'd split in half and no one would notice."

Aunt Petunia followed them down, shutting the door with a resounding lock the moment they left the house. Harry looked back, knowing the questions that lingered inside were not going to be answered easily. Once they were out in the air, Lupin turned back to the house and to Harry, giving the boy a proper hug.

"I'm glad you're coming home."

But Harry didn't hear him. As soon as he hit the outside, his knees buckled and he sank into unconsciousness.