Tea And Sympathy

He wasn't really sure what had brought him back here.

The war was over. It had been over for a few months, actually. It was the beginning of autumn, and the wizarding world was still trying to piece itself back together after the defeat of the most evil wizard of all time. He had been so busy over the last few months, making decisions, helping the Ministry to restore order, and finding a place to live, that sometimes it only felt like yesterday that he had stood in a large hall and fought a battle to the death.

And then, sometimes - it felt like an age ago.

He supposed he was still in shock. It still seemed so surreal, even if Voldemort had been dead and gone for almost five months. The loss of so many of his friends still tugged at his heart, and so he tried to bury the knowledge of their deaths deep inside of him.

Pushing these thoughts aside, the young man pushed his glasses up higher onto the bridge of his nose, and tried to flatten his hair, sighing.

Aunt Petunia always hated when his hair was messy.

Walking up the immaculate garden path, he was overwhelmed with a sense of the familiar. He was suddenly a skinny, short eleven-year-old again, living in a cupboard under the stairs.

Determinedly he rang the front doorbell.

There was a sudden clatter from behind the closed door as someone approached, and then the front door swung open.

Petunia Dursley stood framed in the doorway, illuminated by the light streaming from the kitchen. Her bony face reflected her shock as she took in the nephew she hadn't seen in over a year.

"Harry?" she asked, clasping the front of her housecoat.

The man at the front door nodded, and offered at tentative smile. "Aunt Petunia."

Petunia stood frozen for a second more, and then seemed to come to herself. She blinked and shook her head.

"What are you doing here?"

"Uhh..." Harry was already beginning to regret his decision to come here. "I just...well..." He stumbled over his words. "I just wanted to...just...check that you're all okay, I guess. It's been over a year, and a lot has happened..."

Petunia just stared at him, her hands still clutching the front of her housecoat. Slowly, she nodded.

"Yes. It has," she said softly, watching Harry in a way which made him distinctly uncomfortable.

"How is everyone?" Harry asked, fishing for conversation. Dusk was falling and it was getting rather chilly.

"Fine," said Petunia evasively. "You?"

Harry shrugged. "Fine," he said automatically.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Well." Harry finally broke the awkward hush. "I just wanted to...make sure you're all okay. I guess I'd better be going." Harry smiled woodenly at his aunt, who remained silent, still scrutinising his appearance. "Uhh...Bye, then."

He began to move back down the path, feeling very stupid, when he suddenly heard his aunt's voice.

"Harry. Wait."

The mere fact that she had used his name made Harry turn around. Petunia was still standing in the doorway, the light from the hall behind her flooding out onto the darkening street. He looked up at her curiously as she made a compulsive movement. It took Harry a moment to realise she was beckoning to him.

"Why..." She hesitated. "Why don't you come inside?"

Harry was startled. "Really?"

"Yes," snapped Petunia. "Do you think I just expect you to stand out here all night?"

Harry didn't point out that he had actually been about to leave. Shrugging, he moved back up the stairs. Petunia moved out of the way and Harry stepped through the doorway.

The house was just as he remembered it: almost inhumanly clean, with the lemony smell he had come to associate with his early years. It took him a moment to realise that there was one familiar snorting, rhinoceros-like sound that he associated with this house that was conspicuously missing.

"Aunt Petunia," said Harry slowly as she moved past him into the kitchen. "Where's Uncle Vernon?"

Petunia didn't break her stride towards the kitchen. "He's not here," she snapped, filling the kettle with water from the sink and putting it on the stove.

"What?" Harry said blankly, moving closer to her. "Where is he?"

Petunia hesitated, and Harry baulked.

"He's not...I mean...he wasn't..."

"He's fine." Petunia hurried to clarify. "We were all kept safe during the past year."

"Then, where..."

"He's in London," Petunia suddenly said briskly, reaching into the cupboard for a tin of biscuits.

"London?" said Harry. "You mean...he's left?"

Petunia suddenly laughed from the sink, and Harry recoiled, surprised. He had never heard his aunt laugh before.

"The year we were in hiding, all of us were...changed." Petunia filled two teacups and brought them to the table, along with the tin of biscuits.

"Changed?" Harry asked. He couldn't decide which to be more surprised about : the fact that Vernon Dursley was gone, or the fact that he was sitting at the kitchen table of Number Four, having tea with the aunt who had despised his very existence his whole life.

"Yes." Petunia sipped her tea thoughtfully. "Your friends are very...interesting...people, Harry."

Harry nodded, ready for the onslaught. Since the war had ended, he had delayed coming back here, for the simple reason that he knew how much trouble he would be in. The Dursleys were not the sort of people who mixed with wizards like Dedalus Diggle. He could only imagine what crazy things Dedalus had done during the past year.

"You didn't give Dedalus too hard a time, did you?" Harry said tiredly.

"What?" Petunia snapped, her horsy face annoyed. Then she sighed. "I suppose I can understand why you might think that, Harry."

"You can?" His aunt was coming up with more and more surprises. Instead of ranting and raving, she was looking rather apologetic.

"Yes. And, as I said before, we've all changed in the last year. Well...most of us." Petunia paused, her face becoming cloudy. "Ever since that school took Lily away when we were little, I've always despised...magic - " here Petunia paused, as if she had just spoken a dirty word, " - but the last year has made me realise a few things. On more than one occasion, our lives were threatened, and it was only the magic of Dedalus and the other members of your Order that saved us. But Vernon couldn't see that. He kept going on about how he'd been kidnapped, about how they were all freaks, and finally...they let him go."

"What?" Harry asked, shocked. Petunia nodded.

"Yes. He wasn't in that much danger, Dedalus said the war was almost over. Apparently some huge battle had just been fought and there wasn't really much danger left. So Vernon walked out." Petunia took a sip of her tea.

"But you didn't go?" Harry asked softly. Petunia shook her head.

"No. I suppose war changes people. On both sides. Deaths were happening all over the place, and not just your lot. Normal people, as well. The time I spent with your people made me realise that, for a long time, I've been burying my head in the sand. I can't afford to do that anymore." She pierced him with a long look. "So he left. Said he couldn't stay married to a woman who accepted your lot."

Harry shook his head. "Where's Dudley, then? Did he go with Uncle Vernon?"

"Oh, Dudley's just upstairs." Petunia suddenly craned her head upwards. "Dudders!" she called. "Company!"

There was a call of affirmation, and then the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. Harry rose as Dudley Dursley entered the kitchen.

Except that it wasn't Dudley. The person who walked into the room was a man, and Harry reflected with shock just how much one person could change in a year.

It looked like the Order had not afforded Dudley the privilege of laziness during the war. He was at least forty pounds lighter, with a lot more neck than the last time Harry had seen him. He was also slightly taller, with an air about him that made Harry think that maybe, just maybe, Dudley had finally opened his eyes to the big, wide world.

"Blimey." Dudley stopped in the doorway of the kitchen. "You look like hell."

Harry smiled. "Hello to you, too."

The corners of Dudley's mouth twitched. "Hi," he grunted, taking a seat next to his mother, who put an arm around him. Harry sat again slowly.

There was another awkward silence in the kitchen.

"So," Dudley suddenly grunted again, "what are you doing here?"

Harry paused for a moment. That was a good question.

"I suppose..." Harry said hesitantly. "I suppose I just wanted to...well...make sure you were all right, and...and..."

"Return to your roots?" Petunia suddenly suggested, giving him another intense look. Harry nodded, feeling as if she could read his mind.

Petunia dipped her head slightly in response, taking another sip of tea. "Understandable," she said briskly. "After what's happened."

Harry was silent, looking down at the tabletop. So they knew. Feeling his aunt's gaze on him again, he cleared his throat.

"So - " he looked up, " - what's new here?"

Petunia didn't respond, and instead took a sip from her teacup. There were a few more moments of silence, and then Dudley spoke.

"We know what you did." Dudley sounded distinctly uncomfortable. "Dedalus told us about the night that...well...you know. The war ended."

Harry felt his face burn. "He did?"

Dudley nodded, his own fingertips tracing nervous patterns on the tabletop. "Yeah. He says you saved a lot of lives that night."

"It wasn't just me," Harry muttered. "There were loads of other people, people who helped, who fought..."

Dudley nodded. "I know. But, anyway... Mum's probably told you what happened during the year you were gone, but I suppose I just wanted to say...well..." Dudley cleared his throat, obviously struggling with himself. "Thanks," he finally said gruffly.

Harry was amazed by his aunt and cousin. So amazed he couldn't help but be suspicious. Maybe they were impostors?

Harry shook off this paranoid thought.

There was another awkward silence that Harry tired to fill by taking another sip out of his teacup, even though he didn't feel the slightest bit thirsty. He took another glance at his Aunt and Cousin. They both seemed so changed. He didn't really know what to make of the whole visit. He drained his teacup and stood. Their eyes followed him.

"Well." He shuffled his feet awkwardly. "I'd better be going."

His Aunt nodded and stood as well. For a moment she stood, and then made a sudden movement. For a moment, Harry thought she was going to hug him, but then she shoved her hands into her housecoat pocket.

"Now," she said severely, looking away from him. "Don't think that you can just stop by here any time you feel like it. We have normal lives to lead, you know!"

Harry nodded, smiling inwardly at the obvious attempt by his Aunt to put some normalcy back into their relationship.

"Dudley." Petunia turned to her son. "Show Harry out."

Dudley nodded and slowly the two of them moved out of the kitchen. Harry was almost at the door when he turned back.

"Aunt Petunia?"

Petunia turned from the sink, her eyes questioning.

Harry struggled with words for a minute. He thought of all the things he wanted to say, could say, after a lifetime of living hell under the Dursley's roof, and this surprisingly confusing reunion. After a moment, he shrugged and settled for a simple word that explained it all.

"Bye."

"Goodbye, Harry." Petunia turned back to the dishes in the sink, but not before he saw her eyes brighten with what looked like unshed tears. Harry turned from the kitchen and followed Dudley down the hallway. Dudley quietly opened the front door and once again light poured onto the Dursley's lawn.

Harry stepped past his bigger cousin and out onto the porch. He turned and smiled.

"Well, Dudders, it's been nice seeing you."

Dudley snorted. "Yeah, right."

Harry's smile grew. "I guess I'll see you around."

Dudley shrugged. "Sure. See you round, Freak."

"Back at ya, Porky."

Dudley laughed, and then stuck out his hand. It took Harry a moment to realise that he wanted Harry to shake it. Taking his cousin's hand in his own, he shook it briefly before letting go.

With one last nod at his cousin, Harry strode out onto the dark street. He heard the door close softly behind him, and smiled.

Now he finally felt as if he could continue into the next chapter of his life.

And with that thought, and the thought of a warm dinner at the Weasley's house, he turned on the spot and disappeared with a crack, leaving only silence and calm tranquillity in the normal, Muggle street of Privet Drive.