In Nomine Amoris

Chapter Five: Privet Conversations

"I guess it all started about three years ago--" Harry stopped short. "You actually might want to sit down for this; it's not exactly a short story." He gestured toward the sofa.

His aunt, uncle, and cousin took their seats and Harry began again.

"During the summer three years ago, my scar began hurting--something it only does when Lord Voldemort, the dark wizard who killed my parents, is around. I didn't think too much of it at the time, until I found out someone was trying to kill me.

"To make a long story short, someone entered me into this tournament between the major wizarding schools of Europe. The tasks were nearly deadly, with all sorts of dangerous creatures in each one.

"The last task was a maze. Cedric, another student from Hogwarts, and I tied for the prize and grabbed it at the same time. We didn't know it was a Portkey--"

"Portkey? Didn't that fellow with the red hair talk about that?" Uncle Vernon interrupted.

"Yes, my friend Ron's dad--a Portkey is an object that magically transports you to another place. The Portkey brought us to a graveyard, where Voldemort and Worm--one of his servants were waiting for me. They killed Cedric, because they only wanted me. Voldemort was not in human form at the time; he needed something from me to become so once again.

"He had instructed his servant to lower him into a cauldron, and to douse him with the ingredients of a potion: the bone of his father, the flesh of his servant, and the blood"--Harry gestured toward himself--"of his enemy.

"After Wormtail, Voldemort's servant, put everything into the cauldron with him, he became human again--as close to human as he could be possibly become."

Aunt Petunia gasped in horror, while Uncle Vernon and Dudley gaped in shock.

"His followers, the Death Eaters, arrived soon after," Harry continued. "He planned to kill me that night, but when we cast spells at the same time, our wands connected, because they both have a core of phoenix feather, from the same exact phoenix. I was able to escape, and tell Professor Dumbledore"--Harry gulped--"what had happened.

"But no one believed us--except for a few people. They formed the Order of the Phoenix, a covert organization designed to fight Voldemort and his forces.

"The summer after Voldemort's rebirth, I was in very little communication with the wizarding world. That's why I often tried to catch the Muggle news--to see if something in my world was affecting yours. I kept having these dreams about a door at the end of a hallway, and I had no idea why.

"Then Dudley and I were attacked by those dementors," Harry said, pausing for effect. He was still perplexed as to why the Dursleys were curious about his life, yet here he was, reliving the past three years of it in front of them. The weirdest part was, the Dursleys were sitting on the edge of their seats with rapt attention.

When Harry did not continue, Aunt Petunia took the opportunity to speak. "So these dementors... I never understood what they are. Don't they make you ill, like Dudley was then?"

"Er...yeah, except they suck all the happy thoughts from your mind, only leaving those of fear and despair, which could make you sick, I guess."

"But how do you, well, rid of them?"

"He used his wand," Dudley piped up in a quivering voice. "Something s--silver came out of it, in some weird shape."

"A Patronus," Harry confirmed. "You have to focus on a truly happy thought and cast 'Expecto Patronum.' Then, a sort of silver shield charges at the dementor, in the shape of whatever animal suits you. Mine's my--uh--a stag." Harry did not want to launch into an explanation of Animagi, as well.

"Anyway," Harry picked up on the story, "I went back to school, and no one believed me about Voldemort, because the Ministry of Magic didn't, and the Daily Prophet was writing false stories questioning my sanity." All the Dursleys raised their eyebrows, causing Harry to stop. He knew this was because they had felt that way about him before, and had spread word of it to explain his 'eccentricity.'

Harry ignored it otherwise. "The Ministry sent in a specialist to monitor Hogwarts. Dolores Umbridge took the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and wouldn't even let us use magic in her class. Even later, we discovered she had been the one, rather than Voldemort, to send the dementors after me and Dudley.

"So Ron and Hermione convinced me--"

"Who're they?" asked Dudley stupidly.

"My best friends," Harry said impatiently.

"You have friends?" Dudley said with incredulity.

"Yes," said Harry sharply. "We've been friends since first year."

Dudley only continued to stare at him in disbelief.

"Well?" Uncle Vernon prompted. "What did Rodney and Herman convince you to do?"

"Ron and Hermione convinced me to teach others what I knew about defense, and so we began a group in secret, so that those willing to learn could.

"The year progressed, and I was still having dreams about that door. I figured out, finally, that it was a door in the Department of Mysteries, which is a restricted section of the Ministry of Magic. During my final exams, I had yet another dream of it. I dreamt that Voldemort had captured Sirius and was holding Sirius there hostage.

"So I found a way to get to the Ministry. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and Neville--"

"And who are they?" Aunt Petunia asked in a flustered voice. Obviously, this saga of Harry's was quite a bit to comprehend in one sitting.

"Er...Aunt Petunia, maybe we could all do for a cup of tea?" Harry suggested timidly.

Aunt Petunia closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. She then exhaled, saying, "I do believe you're right. I'll be right back; don't say anything while I'm gone." She rose and walked briskly to the kitchen.

Harry slumped back in his seat, overly exhausted. And it's not even over yet.

Aunt Petunia returned as quickly as possible with a tray of tea, cups, cream, and sugar. The tray was hastily put together as far as Harry could tell; some of the cream and sugar had spilt from their containers, and onto the doily-dressed tray itself.

Once everyone had been poured a cup, Harry took up his epic again. "You wanted to know about Ginny, Neville, and Luna?" he asked for confirmation.

The Dursleys nodded.

"Right. Well, Ginny is"--Harry subconsciously went slightly pink at the tips of his ears--"my--er--Ron's younger sister, and--"

"Your what?" Dudley interrupted, smirking.

Harry mumbled incoherently.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"My girlfriend, for Merlin's sake!" Harry all but yelled in exasperation.

His relatives' eyes widened. "And you have a girlfriend?" Dudley said in disbelief.

"Er...yes," Harry said meekly.

Dudley folded his arms and scowled, sinking into his seat. "Lucky," he muttered bitterly.

Harry cleared his throat, wanting to steer the conversation away from Ginny. It was beyond him as to why he had told the Dursleys about her.

"Neville is one of my friends, and has been for quite some time. Luna is a recent friend. She's a bit...eccentric, to say the least. So they, along with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, joined me at the Department of Mysteries.

"We followed the path of my dream to the Hall of Prophecies, where Voldemort supposedly was holding Sirius captive. When we arrived at that very spot, we saw no sign of them. Instead, an encasing of prophecies was there. And one of them had my name on it.

"After I picked up the prophecy, we were ambushed by Death Eaters. They wanted my prophecy--Voldemort had ordered them to take it from me. Voldemort had lured me to the Department of Mysteries under that false pretense of Sirius being in mortal peril.

"There was a battle. Members of the Order came to help us fight off the Death Eaters. Sirius was among the aid. He battled with his cousin Bellatrix Lestrange, one of Voldemort's inner circle. She killed him." Harry's voice wavered a little at this last sentence, but he kept going.

"Oh..." Aunt Petunia looked utterly baffled. "Erm, well, I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"It's all right," Harry reassured her. "It's been long enough since... I'll just get on with the story."

"Neville and I ended up together in the battle, and tried to get the prophecy out of the Ministry. When we were ascending some stairs, he dropped it. Chaos was still ensuing, so no one noticed. Later on, Bellatrix and I were dueling, and Voldemort arrived. Then he tried to kill me again, but Professor Dumbledore came. He then dueled with Voldemort.

"After fighting with Dumbledore for a while, more with words than wands, Voldemort had an idea. He possessed me for a short period of time, telling Dumbledore to kill him while he was inside of me, therefore having to kill me in the process. But Voldemort's possession of me was indescribably painful for both of us, so he had to leave me.

"Soon, wizards and witches were entering the Ministry, because Dumbledore had summoned them. Voldemort had to leave, but enough people, including the Minister of Magic himself, saw him before he left. Only then did they believe he had come back.

"After that event at the Ministry, Dumbledore transported me to his office. He said he needed to tell me 'everything.' He did.

"He told me of the origin of that prophecy we found. It was given to him over seventeen years ago, by a true seer of our time. The prophecy says that I am the only one with the power to vanquish Lord Voldemort, and that he would mark me as his equal. One of his accomplices overheard that part of the prophecy and told him.

"He marked me with the scar on my forehead, making that part of the prophecy come true. But he has never heard the second half of the prophecy, which says either of us must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives.

"So basically, I will kill Voldemort, or he will kill me. The fate of the entire wizarding world, and the Muggle world, rests on my shoulders," Harry finished, a glint of solemn determination in his eyes. With a deep breath, he faced his relatives to gauge their reactions.

Uncle Vernon stared at Harry with what looked like a combination of fear and admiration. Dudley's expression was similar to his father's as he studied his cousin.

It was shock that filled his eyes, which were widened to such an impossible extent that it seemed he might burst at any given moment. Aunt Petunia was in tears, covering her face with both hands.

"That's so awful!" she sobbed, removing her hands to look at Harry. "You don't even have a choice!"

"But Aunt Petunia," Harry said calmly, "I do have a choice. The prophecy is merely that: a prophecy. It doesn't have to come true."

"B-but Voldemort will still come after you anyway, won't he?" she asked wearily.

"Yes," Harry sighed, "he will. He will try to ensure the prophecy's accuracy. But I don't have to fight him."

"You seriously don't?"

"No. But I choose to," he said. "I'll fight for the safety of my friends, the world, and...my family," Harry said hesitantly. The Dursleys themselves were in danger because of this, and they were, however callous at times, his family.

Uncle Vernon sat forward, leaning a little closer to Harry. "We have been thinking about what that man said last summer, H-Harry"--Uncle Vernon faltered a bit, never really having used his nephew's real name before--"and he was--well, he was fair. We haven't been good to you at all. And we--we're sorry." His face was meek, humble. It was at that point Harry realized: the Dursleys had had some sort of epiphany. They were truly sorry; they meant it.

Harry could hardly believe his family was actually starting to care about him, but in a strange way, it made sense. He supposed all of Dumbledore's words had a great impact on them.

"It's okay," Harry told Uncle Vernon quickly, not knowing how to respond to this sudden revelation.

"No, it's not," Uncle Vernon said. "You didn't deserve all the trouble we gave you; you've got enough problems in your world."

Harry remained silent. Aunt Petunia, who was drying her tears with a napkin, asked, "Is Dumbledore going to help you, Harry?"

"Oh, er..." Harry gave her a forlorn look. "He--he was killed not a month ago."

She gasped. "Dumbledore, gone! The way Lily had spoken of him...it sounded as if he could never..."

"I know," Harry said. "I thought so myself, but I witnessed his death."

"But who did it?"

"You probably wouldn't know him: Severus Snape."

"Oh, I do know him! I've heard of him, rather," Aunt Petunia said excitedly. "Lily and James spoke of him once."

"I have a question," Dudley piped up.

"Er...yes?" Harry said, caught by surprise.

"Who is this Voldemort? And why is he so evil? I mean, how'd he get so powerful?" Confusion clouded Dudley's eyes.

"Well, he, uh--his real name is Tom Riddle. He's an orphan, has been for a long time. He always had a hunger for power growing up, and so he was beside himself with glee when he found out he's a wizard. Ever since he learned that his father was a Muggle, he despised all Muggles and Muggleborn witches and wizards.

"He had an obsession with the Dark Arts of wizardry, and became greedier and greedier with his magic. He used Dark magic to get what he wanted: power. After Hogwarts, he figured out ways to prolong his time alive, and those precautions he made still exist today, though many are completely oblivious to this fact. In a way, he is immortal."

"But if he's immortal...?" Uncle Vernon didn't finish his question, but Harry understood what he meant.

"I know," Harry said. He then resolved not to speak of his Horcrux hunt with the Dursleys, as the sharing of that information could be used against him.

"Is there anything else?" he asked in a strained voice. Fatigue was beginning to set in from all the answers he had given out, and he was now emotionally drained.

His relatives exchanged looks. "No," Uncle Vernon spoke for the family as a whole. "Thank you."

"No"--he yawned--"problem."

"Harry, why don't you go up to bed?" Aunt Petunia offered. "I know it's still the morning, but goodness knows you may need a nap."

"Sure," Harry agreed. He started to leave, dragging his trunk behind him.

"Er, I can take care of that, Harry," Dudley said, looking regretful. "If you want."

"...Thanks," said Harry uncertainly.

Dudley lifted it rather than dragging it along the floor. He carried it up the stairs, all the way into Harry's tiny bedroom. Harry followed him, amazed at his cousin's upper-body strength.

"Wow," Dudley muttered, looking around. "I never noticed how small it was."

"You know," he continued, "I was always a little jealous of you."

"Why?" Harry asked incredulously, perplexed.

"Mum and Dad never fussed over you; they let you be all the time, unless you did something...magical. But now, I'm really sorry for that. You've got it bad, worse than I could have possibly imagined. I'm just...sorry." Dudley was staring at his feet in unease.

"It's okay, Dudley," said Harry. "You didn't know."

"Thank you, Harry," he said gratefully. "Er...sleep well."

"Will do."

Harry shut the door behind his cousin and turned to his bed, flopping onto it.

What a mad day. I can't believe it, any of it. The Dursleys are my family, but wow...I thought they'd never care. I told them the truth; just as Dumbledore said, I have a choice.

...I'll fight in the name of love, he thought passionately. And that's what makes the difference.

With this last sentiment, he fell into a deep sleep.