The first time Vera White met Harry Potter was in the summer of 1991. She was dropping off groceries at Mrs Figg's house. The little old lady had recently broken her leg and had to hobble around on crutches and so Vera had offered to help her out with her shopping.
Vera's mother was friends with the cat-loving woman and she was like another aunt to Vera, if a slightly eccentric aunt who seemed to have some equally eccentric acquaintances. Not that Vera was one to judge, she too enjoyed loose, airy clothing and men with a lot of facial hair.
Anyway, this time when Vera came to Mrs Figg's house, carrying two grocery bags filled to the brim, she noticed a small, black haired boy huddled in the bushes by the entrance to Figg's garden. Vera had to blink twice, first believing the movement was caused by one of Mrs Figg's many cats, but when a pair of big, emerald green eyes and a tanned face looked back at her through the twigs, she realised it was a human boy. And an adorable one, at that.
"Hello there", she said softly, pausing to drop the bags to the ground and crouching down to be eye level with the little boy.
"Hi", he replied in a low voice, almost a whisper. He avoided meeting her eyes, instead looking over her shoulder and fidgeting with his fingers.
"What are you doing in Mrs Figg's bushes?" Vera asked, wondering if perhaps the boy was playing hide and seek with his friends. She figured it was a pretty good hiding spot, with the green leaves shrouding him and since Mrs Figg loved children, they would be sure to be safe to play in her garden.
"Nothing. I'm sorry, I'll leave", the boy quickly said and crawled out of the bushes.
He was smaller than Vera thought, he couldn't be more than 8 years old if one would only look at his height and skinny body. His eyes, though, and his face hinted that the boy might be older.
Vera reached out a hand to help the boy stand, but quickly let it drop to her side when the boy shied away. Her stomach dropped to her feet and her heart sank when the boy made a move to leave.
"Wait! There's no rush, is there? I was on my way to Mrs Figg with her groceries - poor lady can't very well hobble down to the shop herself - and we always have some tea and biscuits while we chat. Would you like to join us for a cuppa?" Vera asked, internally crossing her fingers hoping the boy said yes. She wanted to know more about him, she couldn't really explain why even to herself, but she worked with children and none of her previous experiences with them pointed to this being a happy, healthy child.
The boy (and Christ, she really needed to ask his name) looked extremely hesitant as he stared at her, his eyes wide and like shining gemstones in the bright sun.
"Please?" Vera added, hoping she didn't push too hard. "You really would do me a favour, saving me from having to listen to all the adventures of Nibbles and Puffy." She lowered her voice as she conspiratorially smiled in a way meant to relax the boy.
To her relief, he giggled and seemed a little more at ease, as he leaned in and whispered back:
"Tibbles and Tufty."
Vera's eyebrows shot up.
"Are you certain? Because I think Nibbles and Puffy might be better suited names for one obese cat and another who eats literally everything", she said, almost forgetting whom she was talking to, lost in her musings of the strange cats Mrs Figg seemed so fond of, until another bout of giggling brought her back to present.
"Yes, I'm sure, but you're right, those names would be better!" The boy was laughing now, hiding his mouth behind both hands as his shoulders shook.
It was a beautiful sound and Vera lit up in a wide smile. This was why she loved working with children; they were unique in the way that they could break your heart in one minute and then the next they'd laugh and brighten your day in hundred different colors. She never felt more connected to her own humanity and humility than when she was around children.
"So, my young friend, shall we brave the home of Nibbles and Puffy to acquire some refreshments and company? Might I inquire as to what your name might be?" Vera asked, playful tone of pompous in her voice as she offered the boy her arm.
He giggled again, grabbing her arm and, without a word about the move, bent down to pick up one of the grocery bags before Vera could scoop them both up.
"Yes, my lady", he said, imitating her tone as he offered a small bow of his head. "My name is Harry Potter, ma'am. It is nice to meet you", he offered, giving her a small, shy smile as he peeked at her through his thick black hair.
Vera smiled even wider and offered a (rather clumsy) curtsy back.
"It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr Potter. My name is Vera White, but I'd really prefer if you would just call me Vera", she said.
"Just Harry, please", Harry quickly rushed out, blushing a bit and avoiding her eyes.
"Okay then, just Harry", Vera said softly, smiling gently back at him. "Thank you for telling me your name and helping me carry the bags inside. Now, let's find Mrs Figg and put the kettle on. I think I'm in the mood for a chocolate chip biscuit, what about you?"
Vera saw Harry twice that summer, after their first meeting, both times while visiting Mrs Figg. Once when she came by for another chat and a cuppa, since Mrs Figg by then could manage her own shopping, she found Harry sitting in the kitchen with the older lady, already having a steaming cup of tea in front of him. He didn't look very inclined to drink it, since it was a very warm, sunny day and his face was already sweaty and flushed from the heat.
Vera joined them at the table, discreetly offering Harry a glass of lemonade instead, which he gratefully chugged down, Vera refilling his glass with an indulging smile.
They spent a couple of hours chatting, Vera sneakily asking Harry some questions about himself and some censored bits of his homelife, such as why he had hidden in the bushes the other day ("hiding from my cousin Dudley", was the response). She was good at this, it was her job after all, but she wasn't working this afternoon. This was purely for Harry.
She found out that his family ("relatives", Harry hastily corrected before flushing bright red and changing the subject) were away for the day and had left him with Mrs Figg during their absence. Harry seemed unbothered by this, but it grated on Vera, as this seemed to be a recurring theme. Them leaving Harry behind while they went on short trips should not happen once, let alone be something recurring enough that no one raised so much as an eyebrow in doubt.
After meeting Harry for the third time, when she just ran into him on the street while leaving Mrs Figg's house as Harry was on his way back to his relatives' house and they exchanged a short dialogue before Harry rushed inside, Vera had comprised a short, mental list of things she knew about Harry Potter.
First of all, she knew his name, his birthday (he just turned 11! He was so small, she recalled believing him to be 8!); she knew his parents died when he was a mere baby. She knew he liked the colors green and red, that he enjoyed being outside and that his favourite animal was snakes, of all things. He said he felt heard when he talked to them, like the reptiles truly listened to and understood him in a way no humans ever did.
Vera supposed she could understand this to a degree; she had a pet rabbit at home that she usually talked to about her day, but she never got the feeling that little Puff understood her. Perhaps snakes were just more intelligent.
The point was, she didn't know a whole lot about Harry Potter. He was a private sort of person too, which didn't make it easier but she could read the signs and she was worried about him and his home life.
So when he started boarding school in September and left his relatives for the school year, she was happy for him and his leaving the house had him very excited, but she still worried.
---
The next time Vera met Harry Potter, was in July of 1992. She made up an excuse to go see Mrs Figg (who really should stop adopting cats left, right and centre - surely six cats were enough?) and sat in her car, parked on the street, like a stalker while looking around the neighbourhood, hoping to catch a glimpse of Harry. She was curious to hear about his year at the boarding school and she also just really wanted to know how he was doing in general.
When she finally laid eyes on him, slowly making his way down the street towards the Dursley's house, she stepped out of the car and called his name. He looked up and she could see his face light up in a bright smile, practically making her melt into a puddle of goo at his happiness.
They chatted amicably for a while, Harry telling her about his year at school (and really, what kind of school was this? It sounded negligent, at the very least, if a teacher suffered a psychotic breakdown and no adults noticed) and they giggled about Mrs Figg's newest additions in her little furry family. Vera invited Harry to come inside with her and have a glass of lemonade with the older lady, but he politely declined since he had chores to attend to.
She only saw Harry a couple of more times that summer. Her workload was intense and so was seemingly Harry's list of chores. Vera was internally seething when she spotted him outside in the garden, tending to the flower beds while sweat was pouring off his face and back, but since Harry claimed to actually enjoy his outdoors chores, she only tossed him a big bottle of water and telling him to stay hydrated.
She visited Mrs Figg once in August and was disappointed to hear about Harry having already left for the year, but she soon got busy fearing Mrs Figg and her neighbours having had a collective heat stroke, since they were all rambling about a flying car and a bunch of Irish gingers invading the neighbourhood in what seemed to be an air strike.
Vera promptly dragged Mrs Figg to the doctor's office, where the old lady was told to stay indoors during the hot hours of the day, drink a lot of water and rest up. Mrs Figg was irritated for the rest of the day as Vera fussed around her, but Vera knew Mrs Figg would feel grateful once she had recovered a bit from the heat stroke. Vera's mother later gave her daughter a pat on the shoulder for taking such good care of her old friend.
---
The summer of 1993 came and Vera hesitated to walk alone these days, since a mass murderer was on the loose and had been spotted in London. Surrey wasn't too far from London and Vera had self awareness enough to know she didn't stand a chance in a possible encounter with a mad man.
And so it was that she took to driving her car to Mrs Figg's once a week, instead of her usual walk. Good thing too, since she one night saw a huge, black dog lurking in the shadows of the trees across the street. She was terrified of dogs and especially big ones like that beast. She honked her car horn until she saw it scuttle away, not caring in the slightest that some inhabitants of the houses on the street peeked out through their windows and shaking their heads in disapproval.
She met and talked to Harry several times, inquiring about his school year. He seemed to enjoy his time there, but she was becoming quite concerned about the competence of the faculty. Surely they should be able to contain a virus that left students unable to leave their beds for months? What kind of school was Harry attending? Obviously not a health inclined one. Or education inclined, for that matter; those poor students must've fallen behind if they were too ill to even get out of their beds!
One of those nights, when she had stopped by to have a cup of tea with Mrs Figg after having finished her workday, she ran into Harry. He was hauling a heavy looking trunk behind him, along with an empty bird cage (did he have a parrot and if so, where was it?), along with a broom, of all things.
"Are you off to go clean somewhere?" Vera asked, pointing to the cleaning tool when Harry looked confused.
"Oh! Uh, no. It was a gift", he mumbled after his face dawned in realisation.
Probably a gift from his clean freak of an aunt, Vera thought meanly but chose to remain quiet on the topic.
"Okay, well, are you going somewhere? It's a bit late, isn't it?" She looked at her wrist watch. "It's seven thirty, Harry. There's a murderer on the loose and even worse, I saw a huge black dog wandering the neighbourhood the other week."
Harry raised an eyebrow and grinned crookedly. Whatever tension he'd had in his shoulders before seemed to leave him.
"A dog is worse than an insane mass murderer?" he chuckled, well aware of Vera's dislike of canines.
Vera was about to answer when she heard a rustle in the leaves behind her. She spun around and immediately caught a glimpse of the enormous, shaggy black dog peering back at them through the bushes.
"Shoo! Stupid dog, get away, you!" Vera shouted, waving her arms around and trying to look bigger than she was. "Shoo!"
Harry snickered next to her, a hand over his mouth. The dog's eyes seemed to flicker over to the boy, giving a small whine and then a quiet huff, before quickly darting away further into the shadows.
"I hate dogs", Vera muttered, opening the passenger door to Harry. "Get in. I don't know where you're going, but I'm not letting you walk alone in the dark with mongrels and murderers lurking about."
She ignored Harry's protests as she waited for him to put his trunk, the cage and the cleaning supply in the boot of the car before getting in the passenger seat.
"So, where are we going? And do your guardians know you're leaving?" Vera figured she at least should make sure she wouldn't be charged with kidnapping a child, even though she didn't agree with the choice of guardians for Harry.
"Oh, uh, yes, they know. I was going to go visit my friend from school, Ron", Harry quickly said. "If you could drop me off at the train station, that would be lovely."
"Sure thing, Haz", Vera said absentmindedly as she turned the key in the ignition. She was about to ask if his friend knew he was coming to visit, but she got distracted when her eyes caught on to something outside, up in the night sky. Whatever it was was bobbing in the air, floating jerkily upwards in a random pattern, making a high pitched shrieking sound as it went.
"Say, Haz, is that a balloon, perhaps? It's very big. Poor child must've dropped it. Or it's leaking helium, are you hearing it too? Was there a birthday party in the neighbours' house?"
Harry didn't answer, his eyes glued onto the balloon as it kept going higher and higher above the roof tops.
---
Vera noticed, in the summer of 1994, after Harry had returned from school (with a new broom - another gift. Did Harry want to get into janitorial or cleaning business after school?) that Harry seemed a bit... lighter than previous summers. She wouldn't go as far as to say he seemed happy, but he did look a little lighter, less worn down. He told her his relatives had eased up on some of his chores, which could possibly explain it (though his new fancy cleaning tool might be contradictory). He also explained that he'd learned during the school year that he apparently had a god father. Why he couldn't raise Harry was anyone's guess, Vera privately mused, but at least Harry had reconnected with some part of his parents' lives and since he seemed happy about this, Vera was happy for him. She asked if this god father would come visit during summer, but Harry hesitantly said that his relatives didn't get along with his god father. Vera accepted this explanation, since she figured the man must be reasonably intelligent if he too disliked the Dursley's. Harry snickered when she told him as much.
They met up a few times over the summer, having tea with Mrs Figg sometimes and other times, they met in the park to drink lemonade in the sunshine while chatting lightly about this and that. Vera invited him over for lunch and dinner a couple of times, but Harry said his relatives wouldn't like that, so Vera took to bringing a small picnic everytime they met in the park. Harry finally seemed to be growing a bit and Vera was very enthusiastic about keeping it that way. She missed him when he left in the middle of August.
---
The Harry Potter who came back to Privet Drive in the summer of 1995 was but a shell of the boy who'd left there a year before. He was thin, pale and had deep, purple shadows under his eyes, eyes that looked haunted and dark. Vera was horrified when she saw him in the park the first week he was back; she couldn't stop the impulse to pull the boy into her arms, holding him close to her.
Harry tensed at first, seeming to not know what to do, before he melted into the embrace and carefully wrapped his own skinny arms around her. His body started shaking and her neck grew wet from his tears as he started crying.
Vera held him tightly, running one hand through his unruly hair while the other gently stroke his back as he cried into her shoulder and neck. She hummed softly to him and let him cry until he seemed to run out of tears and slowly pulled away from her. His eyes shone with tears and his face, reddened from crying, flushed a deeper red as he looked away in shame.
"Here you go, Haz", Vera said softly and handed him a handkerchief. He mumbled a thank you and rubbed his face with it, sniffling lightly.
"You know, I cry all the time", Vera continued. "Some people have told me that I shouldn't cry for the smallest thing, but they don't know why I'm crying, not really. Have I ever told you what I do for work?" she asked, carefully extending a hand and when Harry didn't pull away, she gently started carding it through his hair again. Harry seemed to hesitate before slowly coming closer and resting his head on her shoulder as they sat together on a park bench.
He shook his head in response to her question.
"I work with children, as a social worker. Do you know what we do?" A small nod had her continuing: "I love my job, but sometimes... well actually, almost daily, it breaks my heart too. All these children in the world, hurting and alone... some days, it's all too much and I cry for them. And some, rare days, I get to see some of these same children find homes, find happiness and love and families. And I cry then, too, because it's beautiful. Not all my friends and family understand this, why I so easily cry. Apparently, adults are not 'supposed to cry'", she said, holding up two fingers as quotation marks. Vera struggled a bit to find the words, keeping in mind that she was talking to an almost-fifteen year old. "I find that children will always keep me in close contact with my own emotions and so I cry. I cry when I'm happy, I cry when THEY are happy. I cry when I'm sad, I cry when THEY are sad. Hell, the other week I cried because my laundry wasn't dry and I really wanted to wear a certain shirt. What I'm trying to say is, crying is human. And I believe it's an integral part of remaining a sane, healthy and functioning person. It's healing and nothing to be ashamed of. I always feel better after a good cry. And ice cream, but that might just be me", she added lightly, still stroking Harry's hair gently as she talked. He was breathing softly, head resting on her shoulder, and he seemed to be thinking. They sat in silence for several minutes.
"My friend died", Harry suddenly said, inhaling hard. "Cedric. He was a few years older than me. At school, there was this tournament thing, where two other European schools came to take part. It all got messed up, somehow I was entered and there was a contract that was falsely signed by me which I couldn't get out of because I had no proof that I didn't sign it and so I had to be a champion for my school along with Cedric."
Harry said all this very quickly, as if he stopped to think more carefully about what to say, he might not keep talking. And Vera could feel how much Harry needed to talk about this. All the thoughts and questions she personally had about how on earth a fourteen year old (a MINOR) could possibly be legally bound by a contract he didn't even sign would have to wait. Now was not the time. This was about Harry.
"There were three tasks", Harry continued. "They were all insane. Only those seventeen and older were supposed to take part, I didn't know enough, my year haven't covered the necessary curriculum, but I had to compete or I'd... be expelled." His voice wavered slightly, before picking up again. "The last task, someone kidnapped Cedric and me. Supporters of a terrorist, I guess you could say. I mean, I think that's what they were. They saw an opportunity to create chaos and cause fear, I assume. They killed Cedric right in front of me. I managed to escape and bring his body back to his parents, but... but he's still dead and it's my fault and I should've been the one to die, not Cedric. It's my fault." The last words were whispered as his body started shaking again. He buried his face back into the crook of Vera's neck and she felt his tears as they dripped onto her shirt.
She kept carding her fingers through his hair, her other hand found one of his and she gently squeezed it, once again humming softly to him; a song her mother once used to sing to her when Vera was a child.
She didn't say anything while Harry quietly sobbed into her neck, knowing he wouldn't hear a thing she said until he was back in the present with her. A present which was most likely excruciatingly painful for him to exist in right now, she thought, feeling every protective cell in her body protesting the mere idea of letting Harry go. What the fuck was going on at that school? Where terrorists could apparently just waltz right in and kidnap children? Where they had underage students signing participants' contracts, with expulsion as punishments for not showing up?
I wonder how fond Harry is of the idea of going back, was the thought that flashed through her mind. Quite loudly too.
"I know you feel it's your fault, Harry", she said quietly as his sniffling grew quieter and his breathing seemed to even out. "I know you feel all of these feelings and that it is unbearable for you right now. It's alright to feel it's unbearable because there are no right or wrong feelings when it comes to grief and trauma. I only want you to acknowledge the fact that you are fourteen years old and Cedric was also a teenager. You both were kidnapped by insane, sadistic people and that should never have happened. It was not your fault. It wasn't Cedric's fault. None of you should have gone through that; none of you should have died and it is entirely that school of yours' fault for lacking in security. Not yours. Not Cedric's. But the school and those terrorists, those murderers and kidnappers." Vera took a deep breath, willing her voice to remain calm and gentle, but without a hint of uncertainty. "It was not your fault, Harry. This grief, this trauma, it's excruciating enough without this guilt you're putting on yourself. It's alright to feel pain, to feel fear, to be angry, to be hurt and upset and sad. Every feeling you have is valid, Harry. But these feelings of guilt, they are misplaced. I will remind you every day if I have to."
Her heart was breaking again and again for this young boy who had been through so much in his life. Not even fifteen years old and he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Vera made a vow to herself that no more. No more would people hurt Harry and get away with it. She would keep it from happening to her if it was the last thing she did.
The next time she ran into Harry was completely accidental. She was in her car, driving down the road to have the weekly tea time with Mrs Figg, when she passed by the park and spotted Harry and his large cousin, along with his posse. They seemed to argue, if their body language was anything to go by.
Vera quickly pulled over to the side of the street, got out of the car and called out to the group.
"Hello there, boys!" she said, smiling brightly, striding confidently towards them. "What are you all up to? Making friends, Harry?"
"Not likely", Harry muttered, glaring at his cousin and tightening his hands into fists.
Vera was well aware that the two cousins did not get along; even less now, Harry had told her sullenly, as apparently this bully of a huge cousin had taken to making fun and teasing Harry about his nightmares about the tragedy he'd been through.
"As if we'd want to be friends with that freak", cousin Dursley scoffed, making his silly little friends snicker.
Vera raised an eyebrow and told herself not to start a fight with teenagers. She knew better than that, but her protective feeling towards Harry were hard to control.
"Alright then, why don't you and your friends scurry along and I'll give Harry a ride back. He can help me carrying bags in for Mrs Figg", she said jovially, gesturing towards the exit of the park.
The group all huffed and rolled their eyes at being told what to do, but scampered away, leaving her alone with Harry.
"You alright, Haz?" Vera asked, eyeing him carefully.
They'd talked a lot since the time he told her what had happened to him and his friend Cedric. She'd check in on him regularly, offering a comforting word or a shoulder to cry on when it got overwhelming, a friend to laugh with when needing a distraction. She was coming to see him, maybe not as a son since she wasn't yet thirty years old, but like a much younger brother. She was also secretly making plans to keep him safe and happy, but they took a bit of time. And consideration.
"I'm okay", Harry mumbled, looking down at his feet. "Do you really have bags for Mrs Figg in the car?"
She waved a dismissive hand.
"Nah, I just said that so they wouldn't make fun of you for getting a ride back", she said with a smirk, tossing an arm around Harry's shoulder and, privately delighting in the fact that he never shied away from her these days, leading him towards the car.
As they were about to pull out on the street, the wind suddenly picked up outside the car and dark clouds rolled in fast. A chill went through both of them and Very frowned.
"What the...?" She hastily turned the heat on, sighing in relief as warm air blasted towards her. Harry shivered at the warmth and sighed in contentment, though he remained frowning, cautiously looking around the street they drove down.
"See, this is what I'm talking about, Haz! Climate change! In a hundred years, the climate will be entirely different, you mark my words!" Vera tapped her fingers against the steering wheel and huffed irritatedly.
Harry remained quiet, by now used to her rants about this and that.
One day, towards the end of July, Vera asked him, as they say together having picnic at the park (weather being once again warm and sunny):
"Haz, may I ask you something? You may say no or say nothing at all, if you'd prefer."
Harry glanced curiously at her, eyes dubious, but shrugged and picked up another chicken sandwich.
"Thank you", Vera said, quickly squeezing his shoulder. She had thought this through carefully to be sure to phrase it right.
"I was wondering, what does your god father say about your school and the... activities going on there?" She tried to ask it casually, in a genuine but relaxed tone.
Harry tensed slightly, seemingly thinking it through rapidly before answering.
"I don't really know, to be honest", he said slowly. "I know he too went to my school, with my mum and dad and they had a great time, apparently. I don't think he dwell too much on the more negative parts of... well of anything, really", Harry mused, almost as if talking to himself. Vera observed him as he spoke, taking notice of his distant eyes and little frown between his eyebrows.
"Alright. What about your guardians then? The Dursley's? I know you are not close with them, but surely they must have had opinions on the matter after learning what happened to you last term?"
She said this very gently, always making sure to phrase it as something that people did to Harry, causing it to happen to him, as to further convey to him that he did not cause it, he was not at fault and he did not in any way make it happen.
"I know the vice headmistress sent them a letter explaining what happened but you know them... they just don't want me in the house, even if it means my going to stay at a school where murders happen randomly. They probably hope it's my turn next time." Harry said this so easily, so carelessly, that Vera felt her heart somersault in her chest. Fucking Dursley's. She pushed the livid anger down and swallowed hard.
"Well, that kind of leads me to my next and actual question. Harry, what are your thoughts and feelings about going back to that school?"
Harry did a double take at that, turning his head sharply towards her and seemingly trying to read her thoughts.
Vera's face remained calm and honest.
Harry breathed deeply, looking to be thinking hard about the what to answer. It was clear to Vera that he had not really thought about his feelings on the matter.
"I don't know", he slowly said, looking confused and lost. Vera's heart ached.
"I haven't really thought about it, to be honest. I just always assumed I'd go back to school every year until I graduate and can move out from the Dursley's. Boarding school is my best chance to get away from them most part of the year. And sure, I like school, the subjects and my friends but... I don't know if I actually do want to go back or if I'm just out of options." Saying this seemed to weigh heavily on Harry, his shoulders tense and eyes looking forlorn towards the swing set in the park. No more.
"And if you had other options?" Vera pressed carefully, grabbing his hand gently and giving it a squeeze. "If you had options that did not include staying with your relatives, but also didn't mean you would have to go back to that school?"
Harry smiled longingly, staring out into the park, before seeming to shake himself and return his gaze to her.
"What are you really saying, Vera? Just say it."
Vera breathed deeply, squaring her shoulders and tried to center herself to remain calm and sure in her approach. Then she blurted out, completely failing in that regard:
"What if you'd come live with me? I've got my own house, with more than one bedroom, easy commute to schools both here and out of town. I got good recommendations from work, friends and family to become your new guardian and... and I love you, Haz. You're my little brother. I want you happy, safe and healthy. Neither of which you are at the current time, not here and certainly not at that insipid boarding school."
Well, she'd started off rather aggressively but somehow managed to soften it towards the end. Not the actual end, because while true that the school was completely lacking in basically every safety concern known to man, she didn't mean to slander it in front of Harry.
The boy in question seemed almost frozen in place, his wide as huge as they where the first time she ever saw him peeking at her from the bushes at Mrs Figg's house. He didn't say anything at all, mouth opening and closing repeatedly as if looking for something to say.
Vera was kind of starting to panic a little. She had tried to be gentle and assuring, while also completely honest about her offer and her own wish to have him live with her, but perhaps she had messed it up during her very blunt little speech?
"I'm sorry I'm just throwing this at you out of nowhere, Haz", she quickly added, squeezing his hand (which he thankfully hadn't retrieved from her grasp) a little more. "I kmow you've got plenty on your mind already. It's just that I worry so much when you're away at school, because things seem to happen to you regularly and people still just LET them happen and then you have to come back here to your relatives who do not care for you as they should. I care for you, I care about you. I LOVE you, Harry, and I really just want you to be happy and safe. That's all I want and if that means you wanting to go back to school, then I'll make sure that when you're in school, competent adults are placed around the students or so help me God, I will start a riot."
Vera really had to stop for a second to breathe here but before she could start back up again, she suddenly found her arms full of a teenager with unruly hair, glistening green eyes and wet cheeks.
Harry was sniffling softly against her neck, rubbing his nose a little against the fabric of her blouse, while tightly wrapping his arms around her.
"No one's ever said that to me before", he whispered. "Not the... the love part, or the part where they want me happy."
Vera's arms held him a bit tighter, one hand coming up to softly caress his dark hair. Tears welled in her eyes too as she whispered back to him:
"I'm sorry no one has ever told you that before. You deserve to be cherished, Haz. I will remind you how much I love you every day and I will do my damned best to make sure you're happy and safe."
---
Then, the 30th of July, 1995, Harry moved his meager belongings into his new home, one where he would be told he was loved every day. He was already happy; the guardianship was transferred to Vera thanks to her recommendations from friends and family and naturally, because of her work. Also because she basically ticked off every box possible when it came to her ability to foster a child.
The Dursley didn't care much about where he went; they'd only muttered something about an old freak probably not approving of Harry's leaving, but since Vera considered this a good thing (why the hell would an old man care about where Harry lived and WHY would it be a problem that he did not agree with the transferred guardianship? Was there a pedophile in the neighbourhood? She'd mention this to her boss and a friend in the police department later) she didn't bat an eye when they signed the papers while muttering and she then helped Harry pack the rest of his belongings.
Apparently, he did not own a parrot, but a pet owl named Hedwig. Vera found this a bit odd, but she figured it'd be worse having a snake (or god forbid, a big furry dog!) in their home. Imagining Harry having a serious conversation with a reptile which solemnly nodded its head along with Harry's words did make her giggle though. Harry was so adorably odd.
Vera loved Haz and his quirks.