Chapter 3
Dear Harry,
We’ll be there tomorrow at eleven. Have your stuff packed, you're not going back.
Neville
That was all Neville had to say in response to Harry’s plea for help. In a way, he was grateful that Neville hadn’t made a big deal out of it. It made his pain lessen to think that in sixteen hours he would be leaving for the summer. Lessen, not disappear. That was apparent from the wince on his face as he bent to take the scones out of the oven.
Harry had woken up early in anticipation of a reply. It also had the advantage of being able to finish breakfast before the others had come downstairs. Doing the dishes, he started to make a mental list of everything he would need to grab. His old textbooks, of course, Dudley’s castoffs to wear until he could get himself actual clothes, and everything under his floorboard.
The hardest thing to grab would be his trunk which was locked under the stairs. He thought he might be able to pick the lock but he wasn’t all that confident in his abilities. The safest option would probably be using the key on Vernon’s key ring that was usually left in the entryway after he got off work. He wasn’t sure if they would still be there by tonight but it really was his only other option. As he finished that thought his relatives finally made their way downstairs.
Finishing the dishes, he stood in the corner to wait for the Dursley’s finish breakfast and assign him his chores for the day. Vernon kept looking at his broken face and smirking, showing Harry that he might be up for a repeat performance if given the chance. Harry knew he had made the right decision reaching out to Neville but this just proved it.
The list Harry received from Petunia was shorter than normal, even for days he was injured. She knew as well as he did that Vernon was going to need to take his energy out somehow.
“I still expect dinner to be on the table. Get out of my sight.” That was it? No comments on how ungrateful he was? Nothing on his background and “people like him”? Vernon must be angrier than he’d originally thought. Quickly, he walked out of the room to start on his list.
Harry finished his chores as fast as he could so that he could start packing sooner rather than later. Vacuuming today seemed to be more mind numbing than usual because before he knew it he was putting the vacuum away and hiding away in his room. He grabbed two of Dudley’s old rucksacks, one with a broken zipper and one with a broken strap, he began to shove in as many of his things as he could fit.
He started with any personal items from under the floor, then he moved to his old books. By the time that was done there wasn’t much room for any of his clothes. Harry didn’t think this was a big loss, after all, they were never his to begin with. Setting both bags by his bedroom door, he went downstairs to begin cooking dinner. The sad thing was, he actually liked cooking when he got to share it with the people he loved, or even just for himself.
When he had finished, he quickly made a plate then made himself scarce. Once back in his room he did a final walk through to see if there was anything he had missed. Finding nothing he pulled his fourth year charms book out of his bag to reread. And that’s exactly what he did until he heard the Dursleys start to settle into bed. Checking the time he saw it was already ten thirty, meaning he needed to get everything downstairs now if he wanted to have time to get his trunk.
Grabbing a bag in each hand he made his way as quietly as possible down the hall and eventually down the stairs. Setting both bags by the front door, Harry went to grab Vernon’s keys, only as soon as picked them up, they slipped through his fingers. The sound seemed to echo in the quiet house. Harry froze for what seemed like forever until he finally let out a breath when it seemed like no one was coming to investigate.
Harry found the key he was looking for and crept towards the cupboard under the stairs where he had spent a majority of his life. He set to unlocking the door when he heard a small squeak from the top of the stairs. Looking up, he saw Petunia, clearly having just come from bed to check on the noise.
“I’m leaving. Don’t stop me.” Even as he heard it come out of his mouth he knew it sounded too much like begging to be interpreted as anything else.
“I won’t. You need to leave.” Oddly, Petunia sounded just as choked up as he did. “You need to leave, otherwise he will kill you.” She looked down at the ground and Harry took the chance to finally open the door and start to pull out his trunk. Just as he had set it back down, the most unusual thing that could happen to him happened. Petunia hugged him.
“I’m sorry Lily, please, forgive me. I’m sorry, I never meant for it to happen like this. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Harry felt tears dripping onto his hair as she clung to him uncomfortably. He froze, he had never been hugged by anyone besides Hermione and Mrs. Weasley. He stayed as still as possible until he felt her pull away.
“I’m not coming back.”
“I know.”
“You don’t love me. You never loved me.”
“I know.” This one was broken. From someone who knew they were a bad person but wouldn’t change anyways. She hated herself. Harry almost pitied her. Almost.
"Forgive me." This time, it was her begging.
"No." That was all he could say. It was not his job to absolve her of guilt. Especially when she had earned that guilt.
Just as the silence started to grow awkward, he clock in the living room started to chime. At the same time there was a pop from the front step. Then a knock. Opening the door, he saw Neville and who Harry could only assume was his grandmother.
Turning, Harry addressed his aunt for what would probably be the last time. “Goodbye, Aunt Petunia.” Turning back towards the others, he gave Neville a small smile, which was returned with no small amount of worry. “I’m ready to go now if you would grab the other end of the trunk?”
“Is that everything of yours, dear?” Neville’s grandmother asked with a raised eyebrow but a kind voice nonetheless.
“Yes ma’am” Harry tried to push down the flush that accompanied that admission. It seems like she recognized this, though, as she merely grabbed one of his bags and stepped out onto the porch. Neville grabbed his other bag then the other handle of the trunk.
“Ready?” Neville asked gently. And that was a big question. As Harry looked around one last time, he gave a small nod in response, then began to step out on the porch. The slight click of the door closing felt very final compared to everything else he had done.
“This is going to be uncomfortable, just don’t forget to breathe.” Then he felt a hand on his arm, a tug in his belly button, and then he was gone.
Dear Sirius,
I’m not sure what gave you the idea that I would be fine after being kidnapped, tortured, and witness to the murder of a friend. You not writing to me hurt, Sirius. As such, I request that you spread the word to the Weasleys, I will be staying with my relatives for the remainder of the summer. I will find my own way onto the train. Please stop writing, you were right. My family loves me and we are all very happy now that our petty squabbles have been solved.
Give me time,
Harry Potter