Of Halloween Nightmares Past

              Guard duty at Privet Drive began days after term ended. With the rise of Voldemort, Dumbledore had spent the last month of term reorganizing the Order of the Phoenix, and planning. Daytime guard duty had a limited rotation, which is how a certain familiar tabby cat spending the day perched outside Number 4 for the second time in 14 years. So far, guard duty had been a boring affair, the Dursley’s continue to take pride in being perfectly normal with the only thing of interest is happening at Privet Drive being the impending visit of a wealthy American businessman. However, muggle businessmen aren’t something the Order is particularly concerned about.

So, when Minerva arrives this particular morning to take over guard duty for the day, she is not expecting to hear Vernon Dursley shouting about how the visitors are not coming for business, but rather because it appears Harry has some younger brother no one knew about. This declaration sets McGonagall on edge, but she decides that she ought to wait, watch, and gather more information before filling in Dumbledore and the rest of the Order. After all, there is a chance that this is a hoax or misunderstanding, best to handle it on her own if that is the case.

When the car pulls up a few hours after later, she pays close attention to the new arrivals. The first to get out of the car is an older gentleman, probably close to her own age, or well enough, and appears to be some kind of servant, which definitely shows wealth. The next is a middle-aged man with an incredibly muscular build, who the first gentleman refers to as “Master Bruce.”  Finally, two teenage boys climb out of the car, the first, a “Master Jason” appears to be far too young to be a Potter, even if he does bear some resemblance to the Potter family. But the second boy… the second boy looks like Lily, with James’ hair. And it is highly doubtful the muggles could have faked this quite so well, which means either the Dursley’s are right or magic is involved.

Thus far, nothing about the situation is setting off any alarms, literal or metaphoric, so Minerva moves to sit on the roof of a neighbor’s house where she can keep an eye on Harry. She watches Petunia let the older boy into Harry’s room, and listens as he introduces himself as Dick. When Harry barely acknowledges Dick’s presence, Minerva grows concerned. How had the professors not realized how poorly Harry was coping after the maze? How could they have failed Harry, how could she, his Head of House, have missed this? Minerva is cut off from her spiraling guilt by how Dick seeks advice from the older man, Alfred, she thinks she heard, before settling down next to Harry and telling stories from his childhood in the circus, something about an elephant. When Alfred returns with food, Dick makes sure that Harry eats a few bites, but he mostly just keeps telling stories, something for Harry to focus on, to stay anchored, although it’s likely the boy isn’t aware of how he is helping, just that he is. As McGonagall watches the scene, she starts to relax, caught up in the stories, which, she realizes, might have been a mistake, when Bruce lets himself into the room and announces that Harry will be staying with them for the week.

McGonagall isn’t entirely sure how she feels about that statement until she sees the look Dick and Bruce share when they see the ratty clothes and hidden food stash. It almost seems like they expected it but are concerned about it nonetheless. Dick nods, which almost seems to communicate a sincere willingness to help. Any reservations she’d had vanish just as quickly as they came, something about these people is… odd. Minerva quickly moves back to the front of the house, where she is able to cast a tracing charm on the car. Just because she thinks they are more trustworthy than the Dursley’s doesn’t mean she is going to take any chances with Harry’s wellbeing, not after all the times she’s failed him as head of house. She shakes herself out of that particular train of thoughts and settles down to keep watch yet again. She can’t say she’s surprised when she sees Dudley and the younger boy, Jason, return to the house looking like they had been in a fight, with each other she would wager if the glares Dudley is sending at Jason are any indication.

When the older gentleman, the butler, sees the boys he scolds Jason and warns him that “Master Bruce will be having a long talk with you later about when it is appropriate behavior…” which leaves Jason looking chagrined. Meanwhile, as soon as Petunia sees her “poor Dudders” she starts doting, acting like her precious angel couldn’t have possibly started the fight with a younger boy and “Oh, we shouldn’t have forced you to spend time with him, street rat.” The sneer she sends at the butler and Jason makes McGonagall’s blood boil, but both the butler and Jason ignore it, and set to getting Harry’s belongings loaded into the car. As Bruce and the boys finish loading the car, she watches how Bruce shows an incredible amount of consideration for Hedwig, something few muggles are able to do quite so readily.

Once the street is clear, Minerva finds somewhere to safely transform back into her normal self and send a Patronus to the Order, informing Albus that a meeting will be necessary, and he ought to start gathering available members immediately. With one last deep breath, she straightens her clothes and marches to the door of Number 4. It is long overdue for her to have a talk with the Dursleys. Within moments of knocking, Petunia opens the door, ready to start going off about what on Earth Harry could have forgotten no doubt, but upon seeing who is at the door, she goes pale. McGonagall signs, introduces herself as one of Harry’s teachers and “Might I come in? I have a matter of great importance to discuss.” Petunia is unable to respond before Minerva is letting herself in. Seeing that she doesn’t have much choice in the matter, Petunia leads Minerva to the dining room, where Vernon is still seated, fuming over the events of the morning. Petunia barely gives McGonagall time to sit before demanding to know what this is about, and why was she not warned of the visit ahead of the time.

McGonagall calmly waits for Petunia to stop talking, considering scolding the sour woman. Instead, she asks “Who exactly did Harry leave with?”

Petunia looks taken aback. “What does it matter to you? As Harry’s legal guardians we have the right to allow Harry to spend time with… family friends.”

“It matters to me because the individual who murdered Lily and gave Harry that scar returned last month, and as Harry’s head of house, Harry’s safety is my concern. Now, who did Harry leave this house with?”

Petunia wavers, she should have known letting Harry meet those blasted people would put her family in danger. “Harry left with his brother, Dick, and his brother’s legal guardian, Bruce Wayne.”

Minerva sighs, “And how exactly do you know Dick and Harry are brothers?”

“DNA comparison between Dick and myself, which proves relation. And seeing as I have no other siblings, Dick must be Harry’s brother by process of elimination. Now, would you care to explain what on Earth is going on, and what do you mean the person who killed my sister is back. I was informed that he was dead.”

McGonagall relaxes, making a note to investigate what exactly DNA is and how it proves relation. “This past spring, the individual who murdered Lily found a way to return from the brink of death and murdered one of Harry’s fellow peers in front of Harry. We don’t believe that your family is being targeted at the moment, but we would like to be cautious and that includes knowing who Harry is spending time with this summer. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to discuss the change in circumstances with my colleagues. Rest assured that we will do the utmost to ensure your family’s safety.” And, without giving Petunia or Vernon a chance to respond, she turns disapperating to the stoop of a dilapidated old house.

She takes a moment to collect herself before quietly entering and making her way to the dining room towards the back of the house.

Looking around the nearly empty room, she asks “Will anyone else be joining us for this meeting, or are we all present and accounted for?”

“Molly and Hestia appear to be the only ones we are awaiting, which is unsurprising given the short notice. Would you care for a lemon drop while we wait?”

“No, Albus. As you well know I do not care for them.”

“Pity, it seems not a single present member of the order cares for lemon drops.” Albus replies while glancing at the present members. “It might do some good for everyone’s disposition to enjoy the simple things in life more often,” a statement aimed at the two most notable, and grouchy, members present, Severus Snape and Sirius Black, who have done little beyond glaring at each other.

Minerva sighs, she was definitely hoping there might be a few more reasonable members of the Order present. Snape and Black have never been able to put aside their schoolyard rivalry and act like the adults they are supposed to be, and Fletcher, why was he even invited to these meetings? He might be a valuable asset when it comes to the rumor mill amongst the black market, but he certainly doesn’t need to be present now. Which leaves Elphias Doge, Hestia Jones, and Molly Weasley. Oh dear, this is going to an interesting meeting to say the least.

Hestia and Molly suddenly enter the dining room with a slam of the door, and quickly take their seats not wanting to delay the meeting further and interrupting Minerva’s musings. Albus clears his throat and looks to Minerva, ceding the floor to the one who called for the meeting.

Getting right to the point she starts “Today the muggle businessman and his two sons arrived at Privet Drive and not for a business deal as we initially presumed. It has come to my attention that the older son was adopted and is related to Mr. Potter by blood, and this visit was arranged so the two might have a chance to get to know each other.”

The tension in the room is palpable with her announcement, a shocked silence broken only by an earthshattering “Richard.” And just as suddenly the tension is broken for the moment, only to start building again like a fault in California.

“Who is Richard, Sirius?” Albus voicing the question everyone is thinking, which causes Sirius to flinch and duck his head in shame.

“He, uhh, he’s Lily and James’ second child, born the week before Halloween. They didn’t tell anyone else, not even that they were expecting, not with everything that was going on. And there were rumors about someone being willing to betray their trust…. So they weren’t going to tell anyone. The only reason I knew was because Harry was sick, not anything bad, just stuff kids get, but they didn’t have what they needed to cure it, and you couldn’t send anyone until the first, and Richard was just a newborn and they were confined to the house, and they didn’t want him to get sick, so they asked a muggle friend of Lily’s to watch him. And they, uhh, needed a way to get him there something that would seem normal to muggles, and I had the motorcycle….” Sirius trails off, looking pale and seasick.

The tension in the room builds with Sirius’ admission, dealing with someone pretending to be a long lost relative of the Boy-Who-Lived is significantly easier to accept than Harry actually having a younger brother that no one knew about.

Albus, the first person to regain composure, breaks the silence. Does anyone else have something to add before we begin discussing the best way to protect Harry and Richard?”

“Yes, Albus, I do have something to add. I distinctly recall telling you that the Dursley’s are the worst kinds of muggles, and what I saw today supports that. They have been downright negligent of Harry’s mental health thus far this summer, and in all likelihood, past summers as well, not to mention the amount that we professors failed to be there for him after he watched a classmate die. And to make matters worse, Richard and the muggle who raised him have done far more for Harry’s wellbeing than even us, and they only met him today. So whatever we do going forward, it had better not involve sticking both boys at Privet Drive for those ridiculous wards. Do. You. Understand.” McGonagall’s tone, something easily recognized from her many lectures aimed at misbehaving students over the years, is not something the Order ever thought they would see directed at the Headmaster. Albus; however, appears quite resigned, almost as if he had been on the receiving end of a similar lecture regularly over the years.

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The car ride to the hotel is awkward and silent. Jason spends the drive glaring at the window, clenching and unclenching his bruised fist. Dick glances at Harry in concern, who yet again seems lost in thought, not particularly aware of anything around him. When the car arrives at the hotel, Bruce looks at the boys in the backseat and rubs his face tiredly.

“Dick, why don’t you and Alfred show Harry to the hotel room. And take Hedwig with you, if any of the hotel staff mention it, just, pass it off as eccentric billionaire and his kid from the circus. You know the drill. Jason and I will bring the trunk up.”

When Alfred, Harry, and Dick are out of earshot, Bruce turns to Jason, thinking this is going to be a long afternoon.

“What, just had to get me alone to scold me? Don’t want Golden Boy’s precious older brother to see you punishing me? And all because I got into a fight with that whale? Because I am not about to feel bad about that, he deserved it, and worse. He and his little gang of friends “invited” me to help them beat up on the other neighborhood kids because apparently Harry isn’t an easy target anymore. So, yeah, I kicked his a**. It’s not like anything else would ever get that message through his dense skull…” Jason’s voice steadily grows in volume, seemingly trying to cut off Bruce from starting in on one of his many lectures.

Eventually, Bruce interrupts, “No, actually, I think that kid and his family deserve Batman and Robin’s form of justice, but that isn’t necessarily what Harry needs right now. Which means that we both need to keep our tempers in check. I just wanted to ask you to keep an eye on Harry. I think he is more likely to respond to you about how his relatives treat him, especially since Dick isn’t likely to understand. My goal is to get full custody of Harry, but I want to make sure he is fine with that first. And I highly doubt he will willingly talk to me about any of it.”

When Bruce finishes talking, Jason just stares for a few minutes, clearly not expecting the response he got. “So, what you’re telling me is that I’m not in trouble for punching the whale. Cool.” And with that Jason grabs the trunk and starts for the hotel, not giving Bruce a chance to reply.

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“So, Harry, we have two connecting suites. Bruce and Alfred have rooms in the other suite, not to mention a kitchen, dining room, study, and sitting room. And then our room just has a kitchenette, two queen beds and the couch in the living room. Feel free to explore later, but for now, this is our bedroom. And uh, since we weren’t planning on you staying at the hotel with us, you can probably just take one of the beds. Jason and I can share or something. No biggie.” Dick trails off, not sure what else to say while they finish up the tour of the penthouse suites.

Harry, on the other hand, begins to panic. “I can take the couch. It’s not a big deal, I can’t take one of your beds you guys are already doing more than enough. Seriously, it’s fine.” He reassures Dick in a rush.

While Harry is attempting, and failing, to reassure Dick, Jason walks in with the trunk. “What have we done? Other than, you know, carry this trunk up here?”

“I, uh, offered that you and I could share the bed or figure something out, so Harry could have the other bed…” Dick, sheepishly replies.

Jason stares at Dick like he grew another head and is covered in colorful mushrooms. “Hang on. You did what? There is no way I will ever even consider sharing a bed with you… you cuddle monster. Seriously, I’d sooner go steal Bruce’s room and lock him out, and you know how well that would work.” Jason shudders. “So, no, just. No.”

At Jason’s annoyed outburst Harry’ face becomes even more pale than he had been all day. “I already told Dick not to worry about it. I can take the couch or something.”

At Harry’s defensive reply, Dick glares at Jason, who sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Nah, Harry, you’re a guest. Besides, I was planning on taking the couch in the living room or whatever the rich snobs call it. Not only is the couch nicer than a lot of places I’ve slept, it means I don’t have to be in the middle of all the gooey chick-flick moments that are inevitable with Dickie-bird. Oh, and I am totally starving since I didn’t actually eat at the whale’s house, so if you want room service, speak now. Or I might just order for you.”

“Harry and I ate, but if you could order something sweet for me, or cereal, that would be awesome, Little Wing.” Dick responds lazily, collapsing back on the bed in relief, hanging upside down off the side of it.

“Sure Dickie-bird. Of course, that’s what you want. Now Harry, what about you?”

“No thanks. Besides, isn’t room service expensive? Are you sure we won’t get in trouble?” Harry fidgets uncertainly.

“Yeah, whatever, Imma order something for you and if you don’t eat it someone else will.” Jason walks out of the room, presumably to order, before Harry has a chance to object.

Harry and Dick end up just sitting in the room, both awkwardly unsure of how on Earth anyone is supposed to act right now.

When Jason reenters the room an excruciatingly awkward amount of time later, he ignores the tension and makes himself comfortable, goofing off on his phone.

“So, Harry, anything you want to do this week? I know you’re from around here… ish, but uh, any touristy spots you want to check out? Dick asks, trying to find some way to relieve the atmosphere.

“Uh, not really. You guys probably want to see more stuff since you live so far away.”

“So, have you been to Jane Austen’s house? Or any of Dicken’s houses. They're all museums not and I would love to know which ones I need to visit first.” Jason asks, not even trying to hide how eager he is to visit the former homes of great authors.

“No? I am not actually sure who you’re talking about. Like the names sound familiar, but I can’t remember why they mattered.” Harry shrugs.

At Harry’s confession, Jason clutches at his heart, gives and exaggerated gasp, and collapses backwards. “No, you must be lying. How can you not know of them? “When I have a house, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library.” Seriously, shame on you.”

Dick snorts. At Harry’s bewildered expression, Dick explains. “Don’t worry Harry, he’s just being melodramatic because he’s a book snob.”

“Ah, bit like one of my best friends from school. She once checked out a massive book from the school library for a bit of light reading. We were 11. She’s toned it down a bit, but her reaction to any problem is still, “go to the library.” On the bright side, she did discover that there are more important things than books. Like having friends.” Harry replies with a touch of sass. “So, is there anywhere else you two want to visit?”

In keeping with the theme Little Wing has set for us, I want to visit 221B Baker Street. Literary reference and home to the World’s Greatest Detective, Sherlock Holmes!” Dick responds with a smirk, like he is referencing an inside joke that Harry knows nothing about. Jason; however, breaks down laughing, which just supports the inside joke theory.

“Dick, I can’t wait for you to tell B…. and to see the look on his face… Seriously. Thanks.”

The conversation continues on, with Jason and Dick listing off the things they want to see and do, interspersed with both boys making fun of what the other wants to do or see. Harry doesn’t contribute much more, but he does noticeably relax, so the boys consider it a win.

Eventually, Bruce interrupts, pushing a room service cart into the room.

“Jason, why did you order a thousand-dollar cake with actual gold flakes that says “It’s a Boy!”?” Bruce asks with a long-suffering sigh.

“Well, B., you see, Harry is, in fact, a boy. So why on Earth would I order a cake that says “It’s a Girl!” I mean, really, B., get it together.”

Bruce smiles fondly, “that still doesn’t explain why you felt the need to order a thousand-dollar cake Jaybird.”

“Aw, Bruce. Does it really matter? I mean it’s not like you can’t afford it, and Dick said he wanted something sweet, and I figured, why not celebrate? And since it wasn’t made by Alfred I had to make the cake worth it, because, face it, Alfred’s cooking is the best. He actually uses seasonings and spices.”

Bruce pinches his nose and takes a deep breath before responding. “Jason, next time, just ask before ordering gold encrusted food. So, who wants cake?”

Harry, who had been uneasily watching the whole exchange, speaks up before anyone has a chance to reply. “So, no one’s in trouble?”

“Why would someone be in trouble?” Bruce asks carefully.

“Jason ordered a thousand-dollar cake just because he wanted to, without asking permission, and you guys are just talking about it like it’s no big deal and whatever.” Harry answers, genuinely confused as to what exactly is going on.

“Yes, Jason did, and yes, I am a bit… exasperated at that fact, but I will admit, it is partly my own fault. I gave the boys permission to order whatever they wanted if they get hungry outside of normal meal times, and I was not aware I needed to set reasonable limitations. Besides, his reasoning is good enough getting to meet you is an occasion worth celebrating, and, like he said, I can definitely afford to drop a thousand on a cake without even considering it a splurge. Besides, there are much worse things he could be spending my money on.” Bruce is patient while he explains, but that doesn’t seem to calm Harry down. Rather, it seems to have the opposite effect.

“STOP! JUST STOP ACTING LIKE YOU CARE! You don’t even know me. You keep acting like you want to help me and you want to get to know me, but the second you know the truth you’re just gonna think I’m a freak and hate me.”

Dick flinches, either at the tone or the way Harry uses the word freak, but neither Bruce nor Jason seem at all surprised. In fact, you would almost think that this is exactly the kind of reaction Bruce wants to see.

“Harry, you’re right. We don’t know you. Yet. But I can tell you that we aren’t acting. And you don’t know us well enough to know that we would ever hate you. So why don’t just tell us why you think we should hate you, and let us decide that for ourselves?”

“Why wouldn’t you hate me? I’m a freak! A wizard, but even there, in the Wizarding World, I’m a freak. I can’t even be normal at school, surrounded by magic. I’m just the boy who couldn’t die, and can talk to snakes, and who can’t do anything without it seeming like some bid for even more attention and fame. And it’s my fault that Cedric’s dead. If I could do anything right then Voldemort wouldn’t be back and my Godfather wouldn’t be a fugitive because of something he was framed for, and Pettigrew would be in prison. I couldn’t even die right. I was a year old and somehow, I survived the g*%%@#! Killing curse, something no one else has ever done. Which apparently means that everyone gets to have an opinion about me and no one ever seems to try to get to know me. So why would some random rich guy from another country be any different!” When Harry finishes ranting, he is breathing heavily and looks ready to collapse, especially when he realizes that he had just screamed at them.

“Hang on… magic. Like wand-wavy magic?” Dick is cut off from further excited inquiries by Bruce.

“Now is not the time Dick, give Harry a bit before you start bombarding him with your endless curiosity. Hm?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, Harry, I didn’t mean to be rude… I just got a bit carried away because my older brother who I just met can do magic. Besides, nothing you said could ever make me hate you. Like, at all.” Bruce looks at Dick, who stops rambling and shrugs.

“Harry, I need you to answer a few questions, I only need a yes or no, but if you feel like elaborating, then feel free. And if you don’t think you can give me an honest answer right now, I need you to tell me that.” Bruce waits a moment to ensure Harry understands before continuing. “Did the Dursley’s mistreat you because of your magic?”

The room is silent. Harry just sits on the edge of his bed, uncomfortably staring at Bruce. Finally, he takes a deep breath, and answers a quick, nearly silent “yes” with a slight flinch.

Harry’s reaction is more than enough of an answer on its own, but the verbal confirmation is what gives Bruce the cue to continue. “Ok. Harry, it sounded like the Wizarding World,” Bruce pauses, testing out the phrase he had heard Harry use during his rant, “that you mentioned isn’t always much better. Do you have someone in the Wizarding World that you feel safe with and trust? You don’t have to tell me who and where and whatnot right now, just a yes or a no.” Bruce tries to reassure Harry that the rules he gave at the start of this are still unchanged.

“I, yeah?” Harry answers unsteadily.

“You don’t sound too sure about that Harry. If you don’t think you can give me an entirely honest answer right now, that’s fine.”

“Yeah, ok. There are people I feel safe with in the Wizarding World,” Harry snaps at Bruce, then quickly backtracks. “I… It’s just… a weird question, I guess.” Harry finishes almost apologetically.

“That’s fine Harry, like I said if you don’t think you can answer, and that includes if you aren’t sure if you know the answer, you don’t have to tell me right now. It will need to be addressed, but it can wait. Now, the last question for today, have you ever thought about hurting yourself?”

Bruce has barely finished asking before Harry responds with a short “What? No!”

“Ok, that’s good, I just had to ask because it is an unfortunately common coping mechanism, especially amongst young people, and it sounds like your life has been stressful to say the least. Now that this is all out of the way, would you like the first slice of the cake that Jason ordered?” Harry shrugs, so Bruce continues “and if there is anything else you want, to eat or drink, within reason, go ahead and order it from room service or ask Alfred. In the meantime, I think I am going to take a few slices of cake for Alfred and I to enjoy. Let me know if you need anything.”