Heartsong

Chapter Three: Blood Ties

Returning to the Dursleys' was a strange experience, for they were quiet and almost respectful as we made our way home.

It's odd, now and even then, that I called that place my home. True, I had lived there for most of my life, but it wasn't really a 'home' to me. There was no love there and no sense of family. It was a hostile place to live and I can still remember the fierce joy of receiving my Hogwarts letter.

"Umm... Harry?" The day was getting weirder and weirder; for, not only was Dudley speaking, he was speaking to me!!

Startled, I couldn't think of something to say back and simply stared at him, wondering what brought this on all of a sudden.

Dudley, however, took my silence as a rebuttal, turned pale, and snapped his gaze back out of the window, making Vernon's hands grip the steering wheel in a vice like grasp and Aunt Petunia's shoulders to twitch.

I studied my cousin, curious as to what he wanted to say. He was seated as far from me as possible, causing the seatbelt to strain over his bulk from both his fear and body weight, and was staring out of the window with a look I never seen on his face before: Contemplation.

But of what?

After a few moments of me boring holes in the back of his head, Dudley turned around and met my gaze. When he realized I wasn't going to curse him into oblivion, he asked, "What?"

Shaking my head, I mimicked his earlier movement and focused my gaze out the window, confused as to what my cousin wanted to ask me and why I couldn't simply ask him to tell me.

The difference between the two of us went far beyond physical appearances and I found myself wondering if our roles were reversed; if I had been the spoiled son, and he had been the unloved freak of a cousin, would we still end up the same? Or would I be feeling much the way Dudley was probably feeling; scared and horrified of my cousin, who was probably going to turn me into a slug the minute he turned seventeen?

Trying to figure out if that was what I really wanted, I closed my eyes and thought of my best friends and how they were doing, wondering if they missed me as much as I missed them...

Thinking of Ron and Hermione eventually made me think of Ginny, my fiery girlfriend, for, in the privacy of my own mind, I hadn't broken up with her, crushing my own heart in the process.

Many times during my last days at Hogwarts, I questioned my decision to cut things off with Ginny. I had come very close to finding her and apologizing, begging her forgive my stupidity and let me kiss her again, watch the sun dance on her hair, turning it into a kaleidoscope of colors...

"We're here," Vernon growled, as the sudden stopping of the car jerked me out of my bittersweet daydream. "Get your garbage out of the car, boy."

I sighed, not really shocked that Vernon's attitude toward me hadn't changed at all despite various attempts to rectify that, and made my way to the boot of the car before stuttered to a stop when I saw that Dudley was already there, one of my trunk's handles clenched in his fist.

We stayed that way for a while, Dudley and me, just staring at each other, wondering what the other would do. It wasn't until Vernon yelled for us to stop standing in the yard like a pair of idiots and get into the house did Dudley grab the other handle, lift the trunk out of the car and head into the house.

I looked over to Aunt Petunia and she had the same befuddled expression on her face that I did. When she saw me looking at her, she schooled her face into a neutral gaze and followed her family into the house.

Sighing again, I picked Hedwig's cage and my suitcase up, asking the only friend I had here, "Why do I feel like this summer is going to be harder than all the others combined?"

She only hooted in response, gathering a lot of odd looks from the neighbors, making me rush into the house before they could start complaining and I'd lose the only person that didn't cringe when I passed their way.

Pausing to open the door, I noticed that; instead of dropping my trunk just inside the hallway, Dudley had taken it even farther, but I didn't know where he took it. Feeling a rising sense of anger, I made my way to my room.

Putting Hedwig on my dresser beside my suitcase, I was about to make my way to my cousin's room and break my promise of not using magic until I came of age when I noticed that my trunk was sitting at the end of my bed, completely unmolested and unharmed.

Blinking rapidly, I simply could not believe that Dudley had not only brought my trunk in, but also brought it into my room without trying to mess with it. My second immediate thought was that he was simply trying to make up for sixteen years of personal insult and pain.

Scoffing at the poor and ill attempt at charity, I flopped on my bed, closed my eyes and exhaled slowly, trying to figure out how to start on my mission to finally defeat Voldemort, to end this nightmare once and for all.

Horcruxes... then, Voldemort... Horcruxes... then, Voldemort... The thoughts went through my mind, overlapping each other and jumbling together until I was dizzy from it and no where closer to a solution then when I started.

Lying there, with my eyes closed and dark thoughts flowing through my brain, I finally realized how tired I was. I hadn't slept since I returned with Dumbledore to the Astronomy Tower, nightmares driving all attempts at rest away.

My last conscious thought was that I needed to unpack before falling in to a deep, dreamless sleep that fell on me like a Unforgivable Curse.

--------------------

When I awoke later, the sky had darken and my body finally felt like it had gotten sleep, but not rest. I sat up slowly and stretched, looking for Hedwig to send a letter to Ron and Hermione, to make sure they were alright.

She wasn't in her cage, so I figured she was out hunting and would be back later. Standing, I became aware of how very hungry I was. Bloody hell, I was starving, stomach clenching with each hunger pang, so I made my way out of my room and downstairs for something to eat.

I made my way into the kitchen, fully expecting to be alone and was pleasantly-more like completely-surprised to find that I had company: Mr. Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt, sitting at the kitchen as if they always dropped in for tea in the middle of the night.

So overcome with emotion, as well as a healthy dose of shock, the single thing I could utter was, "Bloody hell..."

Mr. Weasley grinned openly at my comment while Shacklebolt allowed himself a small smile, making my face heat up at my blunder and to quickly stammer out my greetings.

As we expressed our happiness at seeing each other, I voiced something that had been bugging me after I got over the thrill of seeing someone more friendly than a Blast-Ended Skrewt. "How did you get in here? I thought that there were wards... Are they already fading?!"

Mr. Weasley was quick to assure me that all was well, at least for the time being, which made me remember what was to happen on my upcoming birthday. They then told me the reason for their visit; to talk to my aunt and uncle, which lead me to my next question.

"Who let you inside?"

"The son," Kingsley replied, in his slow, deep voice, with Mr. Weasley nodding at his elbow. "He was surprised at first, but then allowed us entry when we told him that we wished to speak to you."

I laughed out loud at the thought of Dudley, quivering like a bowl of jell-o, being confronted by two fully grown wizards on his front porch. I wouldn't have been surprised if he wet himself. My laughter stopped when I realized that the Death Munchers, as I called them, could do the same thing if they ever got smart enough to go door to door looking for me.

"How has your stay been, Harry?" Mr. Weasley questioned, peering at me intently, making me shift uncomfortably. "It's been nearly a week and your cousin has said that-"

"A week?!?" I interrupted, shocking both Mr. Weasley and Shacklebolt at my sudden outburst. I had no idea I had been asleep that long, I thought it had been only a few hours! "Exactly how long is 'almost a week'?"

"This night would be the end of the fourth day," Kingsley replied lazily, raising an eyebrow at my expression. "Why is this surprising to you?"

I swallowed, running my fingers through my hair. That would explain why I felt so hungry... "My 'surprise' is from the fact that I just got up from a nap and learned that four days have passed... I thought I had been sleeping for a few hours, a day at most."

Mr. Weasley immediately leapt to his feet and offered me his seat as Kingsley's face grew a frown and he hummed, "You mustn't overtire yourself, Harry. Not in these troubled times."

Sighing heavily, I rested my head against my fist, elbow on the table, and replied, "I haven't done anything, at all! How could I be overtired?"

"Grieving takes its own toll, Harry." Mr. Weasley's somber voice made me stiffen under the hand he placed on my shoulder. "We all miss Dumbledore, some more than others... The ones that were closest to him feel it the strongest."

Closing my eyes, I tried to fight back the memories of my last moments with Dumbledore; the futile attempt to retrieve a piece of Voldemort's soul, the weakened Dumbledore still trying to get that rat, Draco, to see the good in himself, and the last moment of Dumbledore's life was pleading, pleading for that snake, Severus Snape, to help him.

My eyes snapped open as a flash of green light replayed in the back of my mind, catching the worrying looks the two wizards were giving me before they noticed I was watching them.

Attempting to smile, I waved away their questioning looks and asked, "So, what brings the two of you to my humble home?"

Mr. Weasley grunted at my statement, knowing that his home was far humbler than my own. What he didn't realize was that what they lacked in comfort, they made up with love, and I'd much rather live in a house were people loved me than live as a wealthy man. "Well, like we said, we need to speak to your aunt and uncle."

I choked back a disbelieving laugh as I saw Kingsley nod his head in confirmation. "Good luck with that."

"You must know now that your life is not the only one in danger," Kingsley informed me as Mr. Weasley became fascinated by the electric toaster. "Now that the Wizarding world has accepted that You-Know-Who is back and he has become more open in his attacks, he will come after people closest to you, people you love-"

"Why would he come after the Dursleys then?" I interjected before I could stop myself and immediately felt my face heat up. "I mean, I don't think it's likely that Vol- You-Know-Who would come after them."

"There might be no lost love between you and your relatives, Harry, but they are your family and therefore high on the Death Eaters' list." Kingsley continued, not really bothered by my outburst; he had met the Dursleys before, "That is the very reason why we must hide them away; if the Death Eaters think they are important, there might be some on our side that may think the same."

"So you believe that, if the family of 'The Great Harry Potter' gets hurt, than nobody will be safe and there will be an even bigger panic than before?" I questioned, getting up and taking the coffeepot away from Mr. Weasley before he decided to try to take it apart.

Mr. Weasley smiled sheepishly as I put the toaster on the other side of the counter. "We believe there are wizards will believe that, if we can't keep you safe, none of them will stand a chance. Our reasons are more... personal."

I sat down, hard, at the kitchen table, fist clenched tight against my chest as I refused to meet either wizard's eyes. "More than enough people have died trying to protect me... I don't want to add anymore names to the list."

With my eyes down, they couldn't see the tears fighting to overwhelming me, and I had a few moments to collect myself before they spoke again, but the words they said made the tears swim back to the surface again.

"Every person that has died for you did it because they loved you and wanted to protect you, Harry." Mr. Weasley's voice was strong and comforting, the way a father's voice should be and a few of my tears hit the tabletop. "I have seven children and, despite the times I wanted to curse their hides off, I would give my life for each and every one of them."

My knuckles turning white, I remembered that Percy was still estranged from his family, even though the Ministry had been proven wrong and the evidence had been literally shoved in their faces. This war had not just taken away people that I had cared for and loved, it was causing families to be torn apart, standing on opposite sides of this bloodbath... I swallowed hard as I tried to find a way to express what I felt, but Mr. Kingsley spoke before me.

"You are the hope for many people, Harry, they believe you are the Chosen One, the one who will defeat Voldemort and bring peace to the Wizarding world..."

Panic overtook me as I remembered the prophecy's eerie words: 'Neither may live while the other survives...'

"But why me? I'm nobody special; if I was, I would've been able to save Dumbledore..." And Sirius... and Cedric... and so many others...

"That is what makes you special, Harry, that is what makes people want to die for you: your unrelenting concern for the common wizard, the way you watch over everyone's well-being instead of your own." Mr. Weasley set a hand on my shoulder, yet my eyes remained on my tightened hands. "My daughter in the Chamber, searching for the truth about Sirius instead of killing him, Ron and Fleur's sister in the Great Lake..."

"You treat everyone as equals, no matter what race, creed, or bloodline," Kingsley intoned in his deep voice. "There are few like you, Harry, and everyone you meet is touched by that and they want to keep it safe."

I had no idea that how I treated people would endear so many to me; I had been the subject of neglect and degradation for most of my life, I felt that no one should ever have to go through what I did.

I finally raised my head to speak when a noise drew my attention to the kitchen doorway and the figure standing there.

"Hello, Aunt Petunia," I greeted, swallowing a bitter smile at the sight my aunt made, standing there in her tartan nightgown, hands over her mouth and no Vernon to cower behind. She looked very small and very powerless for one of the few times in my life.

"Ah! Mrs. Dursley!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed, standing up and bowing in my aunt's direction before offering her a chair. "I take it you remember me?"

Aunt Petunia made another squeaking sound and I snorted to hold in my laughter; I doubted my aunt would forget someone who had blown up half her living room, even if it was a few years ago.

"I am Kingsley Shacklebolt," Kingsley also stood and bowed before returning to his own seat. "We are here to talk about Harry's last days here and the safety of you and your family."

The response my Aunt gave him was a terrified cry of, "Vernon! Vernon, come quick!" as she bolted back up the stairs and into the bedroom she shared with my Uncle, slamming the door shut behind her.

"That's the warmest welcome you're going to get here," I stated dryly, making the two wizards bring their gazes back on me. "Vernon will probably be down in a bit, I'll make you some tea while we wait..."

-------------------- -

The rest of the day just went downhill.

Sure enough, as soon as the kettle started to whistle, Vernon came lumbering down the stairs demanding to know why his wife was in tears and what kind of rubbish I had done this time.

He, like my aunt, stopped dead at the sight of two full grown wizards sitting at his kitchen table, one of which was trying to figure out why Muggles needed coffeemakers. He, like my aunt could tell they weren't 'normal' due to the fact that most wizards had a hard time 'dressing Muggle'. He, unlike my aunt, however, did not have a problem vocalizing his fury at the fact.

"What the hell are your kind doing in my house, boy?" Vernon bellowed, his face turning its trademark purple whenever he was angry. "I swear, if there has been any of your nonsense going on, I'll-"

"I believe it was your son that let us in, Mr. Dursley," Kingsley intoned, not raising his voice an octave, yet cutting across my uncle's tirade all the same. "We have an important matter to discuss. Could you possibly convince your wife to come back downstairs?"

Gaping like a landed fish, Vernon could only stare as at thee man who didn't seem to be intimidated by him in the slightest; on the contrary, it was my uncle who seemed to cower under Shacklebolt's steady gaze before hightailing it back up the stairs.

"Well," Mr. Weasley sighed, shaking off the tension that had left the room, but was sure to come back as soon as the Dursleys returned to the kitchen, "why don't we make some breakfast, hum? I always feel better on a full stomach!"

Going to get some bacon from the fridge, I didn't have the heart to tell Mr. Weasley that I doubted a king's banquet would put the Dursleys in better spirits. Nothing but the complete removal of all things magical, including me, would come close to making them happy.

I had just finished the bacon and was starting on some eggs when the Dursleys decided to come back to the kitchen. I served everyone their food and tried to ignore the hairs rising on the back of my neck, as well as the little nagging voice that told me this wasn't going to end well.

Aunt Petunia decided to act as negotiator, she probably thought that the sooner they figured out what Kingsley and Mr. Weasley wanted, the sooner she could get them out of the house before the neighbors saw. "Why are you here?"

"Well,it all starts sixteen years ago," Kingsley replied, pushing his plate away and folding his arms in front of him. "On a Halloween night in Godric's Hollow, which is where Mr. Potter was born..."

As Shacklebolt continued with his story and Vernon's glares toward me grew darker, a sinking feeling in my stomach grew in accompaniment to the nagging voice in my head.

This really wasn't going to end well.