Redux

  While “dreaming” in Thanatos’ office, Harry and Hermione decided to leave a journal of what happened that day, and plans for the next, and also left a note for Thanatos to update the plan when anything important was coming up, or if something changed. That way they could make adjustments if, and eventually when, they remembered. Hermione also realized that she already had a rudimentary mindscape, as she’s always thought of her memories as a library, where she just has to look up what she needs. As a child it was the public library, and after First Year, it slowly morphed into the school library at Hogwarts. That’s how she remembered Harry’s name, and what to do with Oaktail, the book that had their meeting “dream” had let the memory slip out. She had a new “restricted section” in her mind, which she thought must be the Celestial Wall, hiding her memories from nosy Legilimens. It must have the equivalent of a notice-me-not on it so she didn’t access it too early.

  Harry’s mindscape wasn’t quite like that. After working with Snape on Occlumency in fifth year, his mind was the Room of Requirement, or rather the seventh floor corridor. He normally called the DA room, but his memories were a mess in the Room of Hidden Things. He knew where everything was, and could call on what he needed, but anyone digging around would have to get lucky to find what they were looking for. Unfortunately, Little Harry didn't have much of a mindscape at all, relying on muggle memory tricks, though he’s better than most kids his age. He planned on asking his Aunt about his mom before she met his dad, and hoped that she would bring up Snape, so he could contact the man and hopefully get a jumpstart on his Memory Room.

  Soon, they decided that they should wake up, and get started on the day. Just as they laid down on the provided couch, and made the decision, their child selves woke up, smiling at the memory of the dream, though the specifics were fuzzy. Knowing that it’s not just a dream, they both climbed out of bed and went to do their morning routine.

  While Hermione’s routine was, well, routine, Harry on the other hand, had to learn a whole new way of life, and that started with meeting his Aunt Petunia in the kitchen first thing. Petunia sat at the table, with a pad of paper and a pencil, and a sour look on her face. On the first page of the pad she had written Harry’s old summer and weekend routine. When Harry sat down, she ripped the page off the pad and sat it down on the table. With a sigh that sounded like a horse chuffing, she wrote the times for waking up, meals and bedtime. She turned the pad to Harry and told him he could choose when he had the time to work on the bedroom, but that when he moved in, the block would be replaced with more chores. Harry chose the two hours right after supper. That way, the work would tire him out and he’d be able to sleep well. It also left him with an hour before bed to wind down, hopefully with a shower, or at least a book.

  After he marked the time, Petunia took the pad back and started filling the rest of the day out. She would run her finger over the old schedule, and then scribble furiously on the new one. After about fifteen minutes, she looked to be finishing. The sounds of Vernon and Dudley waking up and running around upstairs started, and Petunia ripped the new schedule off the pad and shoved it at Harry.

“You start this tomorrow, start breakfast now, and after you’re done cleaning up, if you have any questions, I’ll answer them then. I don’t want you screwing up, or I might forget that Vernon isn’t supposed to punish you.” She huffed, and took the pad away.

  Harry shoved the schedule in his pocket after confirming that, yes he got to shower at the end of the day, and grabbed the pans he needed for the eggs and sausages. He purposely broke the yolk on one of the eggs in order to be able to eat it himself. He served his relatives and ate his “ruined” egg on his last allotment of dry toast. After they finished, he cleared the table and started cleaning the dishes. When everything was put away, he found Aunt Petunia in the sitting room, writing in a small crimson journal. She heard Harry’s footsteps as he went from the linoleum of the kitchen to the carpet of the sitting room, she looked up at him, sighed, and wrote one last line before putting the journal down.

  “Questions, then?” she asked, in a voice that sounded like she was trying not to be huffy. Harry nodded and sat on the edge of the sofa when she gestured for him to do so. They discussed the schedule, and Petunia explained what chores would replace the room project. Harry noted all of her answers on his schedule, and the conversation went on for almost a half hour. Petunia looked out the window and saw clouds rolling in, threatening rain. This time she did huff, and looked at the young boy in front of her. “Any more questions?” she asked. Harry shook his head and went to stand up.

  “Not about the schedule, but I actually do want to ask you something. *Aunt Petunia*, could you tell me about my mom before she met my dad? I know you didn’t like him, and I don’t want to talk about him, but I don’t know anything about my mom, and you would know her best.” Harry felt the magic in his words this time. He just had a feeling he needed to ask, and the tingles in his scalp and throat made him believe it was the right thing to do. Petunia had a glazed look in her eyes for a moment before gesturing for the boy to sit back down. She looked at her red journal before looking back at Harry.

  “Yes, your mother and I were quite close as children, we’d do everything together. We lived in a small town called Cokeworth, up north in Leicestershire. Father, your grandfather Owen, worked as a foreman in a factory, and Mother, Iris, was a seamstress, and often fixed the clothing of the factory workers that worked under Father’s eye. We were pretty well off for the area. Lily and I would often play at the park down the road from our house. She loved to play pretend, we would be princesses, and dragon riders. We spent every moment we could at that park.” Petunia described a few interesting tidbits of their childhood, where Lily had amazed and entertained her older sister, before her eyes turned dark. “Everything changed when we met that greasy neighbor kid…” Harry looked up from his feet, where he had been staring, thinking, and looked his aunt in the eye.

  “We were on the swings at the park, I warned your mom not to jump, people were watching, but she did anyway. It was like time slowed down, and her feet hit the ground without disturbing the sand. This boy walked up, greasy black hair and raggedy clothes, and said a lot of stuff very rapidly. I thought he was insulting her, so I stood up for her, and we went to leave. He tried to tell us about this school his mother went to, and how he was sure that Lily would be going there. He wouldn’t let us leave. But he intrigued your mother, and they were inseparable for the longest time. I lost my best friend that day, to a kid too poor to afford shampoo… two years later, your mom did in fact get invited to the school he was talking about, and met your father there. At least she had the sense to stay away from him for the majority of their schooling. We fell out when she got that letter. I blame that boy. He’d sneer at me every time he was around me, and called me things that I’m pretty sure were insults. Poisoned my sister against me.” She sighed. “I would probably have been excited for her going to that school instead of jealous and angry, had it not been for that horrible Severus Snape”

  Harry felt the name was important as soon as he heard it, and piped up, “*Aunt Petunia*, would it be possible to write this Snape guy? I’m not going to ask him over or anything, but you mentioned that Mom went to school with him, and he could tell me more about her.” He gave her his best attempt at puppy dog eyes, and she sighed again and grabbed the pad of paper from earlier. She wrote down an address, and tore the paper off to hand to the curious boy.
Petunia huffed, “This was his address when we lived in Cokeworth. Even if he moved, the Postal Office should be able to get any letters to him. Do not bring him here! If you ever have to see him in person, go to the park or something. I hope you never have to meet up with him, you’ll probably bring fleas or something back.”

  Harry thanked her politely, and put the paper in his pocket with his schedule. The rain had started so he was blessedly exempt from any yardwork, so he went to start the sweeping and mopping. He spent the day doing his chores and cooking meals. A couple times, he stuck his head out of the back door to hiss a check-in with Oaktail, who had hidden in a hole in the tree to get out of the rain. After supper, Dudley informed everyone that he had only found a few things he wanted to keep in the room, things he had completely forgotten about. Harry was ready to start cleaning. He went to his cupboard, and drafted a letter to Snape asking about his mom. He had a feeling he’d get a response, but he might not like it.

  The rest of the week went quickly, Harry following Aunt Petunia’s schedule, and his body getting used to the increase in food intake. The room was organized pretty quickly, as Harry simply separated most things into boxes. One for rubbish, one for things to keep, and one for things to repair before deciding to keep or discard. He was mostly done by Friday, and Petunia let him move in. Saturday came with a letter from Snape, written on a weird yellow paper folded and sealed with wax rather than placed in an envelope. Harry slipped it into his bag to read at Hermione’s.

  Hermione’s father came around noon to pick Harry up. He introduced himself, Dr. Nicolas Granger, and his brother, Andrew. The men were happy to meet Harry, and were cordial with the Dursleys for the time they stood in the foyer. Before leaving, Dr. Nick, as he preferred to be called, handed Petunia a tin of shortbread. “Helen makes an excellent lemon shortbread, and it goes wonderfully with lavender tea. She put a few bags of her favorite in the tin as well. All in thanks for letting the kids get together like this.” he said. They said their goodbyes, and went to the car. Harry stopped by the garden gate to tell Oaktail he was leaving to see Harmony (Hermione), and would be back in the evening. He got a long hiss that roughly translated to “give her my affection”. Harry agreed and got in the car.

  The car ride was long, but Dr Nick and Drew filled the time with chatter, asking Harry questions about what he liked to do for fun, and what his favorite foods were. Harry answered to the best of his ability, but he had never had the opportunity to decide his own favorite things. Drew noticed Harry’s hesitation, and filed the information away for later.

  When they arrived at the Grangers, Hermione was sitting on the front step waiting. She jumped up, and hugged each person as they got out of the car, squeezing Harry the most. Harry winced a little at the pressure, but loved the emotion he felt behind the hug. He happily let himself be dragged to the picnic table in the back garden. Hermione peppered him with questions about his week, since she hadn’t gotten around to writing a letter yet. He answered as best he could, eventually telling her about the weird letter he got that very morning. He pulled it out of his bag so they could read it together.

Mr. Potter
I was frankly stunned by your letter’s appearance. Especially written the way it was.
The fact that the return address was one that belonged to my least favorite person from my early childhood, made me furious. Not at you, mind, at the people who placed you there after your parents’ death.
I went to school with your parents, and did not like your father, but your aunt, I disliked more.
I, and many people, were told you were placed in a caring home with people who would keep you safe from those that killed your parents. Petunia is not someone who fits that description.
She hasn’t even told you the truth about your parents’ death, you told me they died in a car crash, when I know full well, your father couldn’t even drive one. Barely knew what they were.
I can’t divulge too many secrets here, the letter might get through to you, but I don’t know if anyone is watching.
There are teachers from the school I went to, and work at, going to talk to new students, like they did for your mother, and your name was not on the list to volunteer to visit. This confused me. I can be available to talk to you that day, if you need to learn more. If you take the wax seal from this letter, and light the ribbon embedded within like a candle, it will let me know where you are and come to you. I shall be free after 5 in the afternoon, when the visits with the new students are over.
S.T. Snape

PS. please be alone when you light the seal, I cannot be found talking about what needs to be talked about.

  Just then there was a knock on Hermione’s front door, and her mother came back shortly to ask for the kids to come inside. The children get up, and follow Dr. Helen into the house. There, in the living room is a younger looking woman, in very odd clothing. She looks up as the kids enter, and starts talking, “Miss Granger, so nice to meet you, and you are? —-” she turned her head to Harry and upon making eye contact, dropped the stick she was holding, putting her hands over her mouth.

“By Morgana… Harry Potter”