1997 

Harry opened his eyes groggily as Levi’s wings brushed his cheek for the second time. He glared at his familiar and said grumpily, “It’s too early.”

Levi ignored him and hopped onto his head; his claws kneading his scalp lightly. Harry sighed and sat up slowly; Levi’s claws stayed firmly clamped in Harry’s hair.

“It’s my holiday,” he grumbled to the kylaria. Levi simply made his little yipping sound and enjoyed the ride as Harry shuffled down the corridor.

“Good morning,” Severus greeted him from his seat at the table when he entered the sitting room. “I see Levi was successful.”

Harry flopped into the chair across from his dad, eyeing him blearily. “Successful?”

Levi hopped onto Harry’s shoulder and then onto the table.

“Well done,” Severus said to the kylaria as Levi strutted over to him and accepted the pinkie-sized slice of melon. Levi plucked it from Severus’ fingers and flew away to his cave, where he attacked it with verve.

“That was your idea?” Harry asked sourly, turning away from Levi.

“I cannot have you sleeping away your entire summer, after all,” his father said with a small smile.

“You didn’t seem to mind yesterday,” Harry grumbled. “And it’s only the second day of summer holidays.”

“Third,” Severus corrected as he filled a glass with pumpkin juice for Harry. “It is Friday.”

“Like it matters,” Harry muttered.

Severus didn’t respond and Harry hunched down over his plate of eggs. He ate two unappetizing bites before he began stabbing the eggs aimlessly. “Sorry,” he said quietly, not looking up.

“It is at least a two day trip from Romania, for an owl.”

Harry’s eyes came up. His tensed shoulders relaxed as he met his father’s easy gaze. “Right. And there isn’t a Floo connection across water…”

“Molly would likely restrict access, in any case…” Severus said, his eyebrows drawn. When Harry began flattening the eggs with the tines of his fork, he added, “And Ginny has not seen her brother in quite some time, yes?”

“I guess…” The eggs were nothing but little yellow bits now.

“When Ginny returns, I will speak with Molly and Arthur.”

Harry looked up again; his father’s jaw was set.

“It’s not only Mr. and Mrs. Weasley…” Harry swallowed. “Ginny was-” He wasn’t certain how to describe it. “-hesitant, I suppose.”

Severus frowned. “Can you elaborate?”

It sounded stupid, but Harry said it anyway. “She didn’t hug me. She wouldn’t even let me hold her hand.”

“Molly and Arthur were watching the exchange, I presume?”

“That’s never stopped Ginny before," Harry said, shaking his head. He was trying very hard not to be angry at Ginny—it wasn’t her fault her parents were overreacting. Harry let the fork fall from his fingers; it hit the plate with a jarring clatter. “How can they be angry with me?” he demanded as he swiped the full glass of juice from the table. “We didn’t even do anything. Mrs. Weasley told me I needed to take more care with Ginny!” he sputtered indignantly. “As if I go about being a berk to her. And Ron had to reassure Fred and George that I hadn’t done anything to her. To her, Dad!”

Pumpkin juice sloshed over the sides of the short glass as Harry plunked it down. Levi had rejoined the pair, scooting under the collar of Harry’s shirt to purr softly while Harry forced himself to calm down.

“They should not have treated you so poorly,” Severus said in a low voice which seemed in perfect harmony to Levi’s melodious purring, even with the anger beneath the surface. “And all of the Weasleys know better than to believe you would behave poorly toward Ginny. I do not believe Molly was thinking clearly when she spoke to us. She cannot truly believe that her only daughter would be better off with a different suitor. One that would certainly not care for Ginny as much as you do.”

Harry slumped. “But why didn’t Ginny stand up for herself? Everything was all right between us at the train station.”

Harry wasn’t certain why all of this was tumbling out now—except that it had been a very long two days. With nothing but his father’s end of the year inventory to distract him.

“I suspect she had not had enough time to process everything that had happened. Molly and Arthur should have allowed her time to speak with you properly before whisking her away. Her emotions following the events at the Grangers' undoubtedly left her feeling confused.”

Harry stared glumly at the drops of juice dotted across the tabletop. What did Ginny have to feel confused about?

“You could send a letter,” Severus suggested after a moment.

“If they’ll even let her receive mail from me…”

“Would you like me to write to Arthur?”

Harry couldn’t help smiling as he looked up again. “Thanks, but that’s all right. I’ll work on a letter after we work on the inventory. “

His father shook his head though. “You can join me once you have finished.” He gave Harry’s plate a pointed look. “And after you eat.”

Harry sighed and picked up another piece of melon from the platter in the middle of the table. He waggled it in front of Levi’s nose, which was just peeking out from under Harry’s collar. Levi came out quickly, blinked a few times at Harry—perhaps to be certain he was all right, before taking the morsel in his mouth and going back to his cave.

Harry was going to protest that he wasn’t hungry, but his dad was watching him with concern, so Harry picked up the sweet roll that the elves always included on Harry’s plate and took a few bites. The pinched lines around Severus’ eyes smoothed out.

Once Harry had polished off the roll, Severus pushed back his chair and stood up. He summoned a quill and parchment for Harry.

“I will meet you in my classroom,” he said, with a parting squeeze for Harry’s shoulder.

Harry nodded in acknowledgement, already turning over what he wanted to say in his head as his dad clasped his robes around his shoulders and stepped out the door.

It took much longer than it should have for Harry to complete the simple letter, which in the end didn’t really say much of anything, except that he missed Ginny, and hoped she was having fun. As letters went, it was rather a lame one.

Harry sighed—it was becoming a habit of late—as he wound a green ribbon around the small scroll.

“Want to come with me?”

Levi, who’d been taking a nap on Harry’s shoulder, peered out from under his wing at Harry’s question.

“You can meet Hedwig.”

Levi narrowed his eyes, as if considering the intelligence of such an idea.

“Come on,” Harry coaxed with a smile. “I’m pretty sure she won’t try to eat you.”

Levi nuzzled his neck.

“Of course I wouldn’t let her,” Harry assured his familiar, and smoothed a finger down Levi’s neck to seal the promise. Levi yipped, and taking that as assent, Harry began the slow climb to the Owlery.

It was very strange to be in the corridors without one of his friends, or his father. The castle seemed so empty. Almost foreign. When Harry finally reached the Owlery, the noisy owls were a welcome relief. Though they quieted as soon as Harry entered—dozens of feathered heads swiveled toward him.

Harry spotted Hedwig right away—her snowy feathers stood out easily amidst the sea of brown and black. She too was staring at Harry. Or Levi, more accurately, Harry could sense. None of the other owls seemed to know what to make of the tiny dragon either.

“Hi girl,” Harry called up to her. Her feathers ruffled a bit, and she made an indignant sort of hooting sound. The same sound she always made if Harry didn’t give her a treat as soon as she’d delivered a letter. “It’s all right, girl,” he told her soothingly.

Hedwig hooted again, and this time, Levi answered back, with his happy yip, his yellow eyes wide and as un-alarming as he could make them. Harry held out his arm encouragingly to his owl. Hedwig inched forward and after another minute of the intent staring between the two familiars, she hooted once more and spread her wings.

She soared gracefully from her perch and landed delicately on Harry’s forearm. Harry stroked her breast.

“Levi,” he said, “this is Hedwig. Hedwig, Levi.”

Maybe it was the way Levi was purring; Hedwig dipped her head slightly, her hooting this time soft and deep—accepting the kylaria, leaving Harry to wonder if Levi’s mood was affecting his owl as it did him.

Levi yipped again and without further ado, he hopped off Harry’s shoulder and onto Harry’s arm beside Hedwig. He nuzzled her wing, and though Harry tensed, afraid his temperamental bird would take offense at the familiarity, Hedwig brought her head toward the Kylaria and chucked him gently under his chin with her beak. Levi simply purred louder.

Harry chuckled. At least something had gone right.

With that settled, Hedwig looked up at Harry, her eyes curious—a little eager. “I have a letter for you to deliver, though it’s a bit of a long trip,” Harry told her. Hedwig chirruped in agreement, nibbling Harry’s fingers as he stroked her again. “Thanks.” He handed her the slice of bacon he’d saved from breakfast, and though it took a little maneuvering with both familiars on his arm, he secured the little scroll to her foot.

Hedwig, after swallowing her treat, hooted once more and took off on her errand. Harry and Levi watcher her until she was out of sight.

“She’s been with me since I came to Hogwarts,” Harry explained to Levi as he turned to leave the Owlery. Levi nudged his neck in response and curled up for the walk back downstairs. Their exit was halted however by a large brown owl, which was just entering the Owlery. It hooted loudly, and instead of finding a perch with the other owls that were resting, he glided down toward Harry. A white, rectangular envelope dropped out of its mouth, and then it turned around and left the way it came.

Harry stared after it quizzically, only bending down to retrieve the envelope—which was made from regular paper, instead of parchment—from the straw on the floor after it was gone.

The envelope was addressed to him—to Harry Potter, rather, in familiar, untidy script.

With his brows furrowed in confusion, Harry tore the envelope open hastily.

Harry,

Mrs. Figg says you’ll be able to receive this by owl… just like the one you used to bring home during the summers. Hers isn’t as grand as yours though. Just one of those ordinary brown sorts. I’m not certain why I’m writing this, really. And I know you’re probably surprised to hear from me. I’m surprised too, I guess. But I didn’t get a chance to speak with you at the train station.

I was hoping we’d be able to speak this summer. Not that we ever did much of that. And you probably don’t really want to talk to me. I’m not sure we actually have much of anything to speak about, I suppose. Not that we ever tried.

Mrs. Figg is watching me as a write this. She’s a bit creepy, to be honest. And she has too many cats, but I guess you know that as well, don’t you? It must have been awful to have to stay here with her.

Look, Harry, I better hurry and finish this—Mrs. Figg’s cats think I’m a scratching post.

I hope you’re doing well. That man you were with, in the car park—you know, the tall one in black—well he looked rather frightening. Not that I would be scared, you understand. But I hope you don’t have to stay with him this summer and that’s why you aren’t coming home.

Mum has hardly spoken since we saw you. I can’t imagine it’s because of you, but it is odd, all the same. Dad keeps saying how grand it is to be rid of you. Honestly though, the house seems strangely empty now. Not sure why.

Anyway, Harry, Mrs. Figg says to say hello for her. She wants to have tea, so I better close now or I will actually have to stay and have some.

Your cousin,

Dudley.

Even after he’d read it through a second time, Harry had no better understanding of what he’d just read.

Dudley had written him a letter.

Dudley.

Of course, the letter didn’t really make much sense, but then Dudley had never really been much for eloquence. Though Harry wouldn’t have thought his cousin to be one to write him a letter either.

“I have no idea,” Harry said to Levi when the kylaria poked his nose at the letter.

Although Dudley hadn’t bothered him during his brief stay in Privet Drive last summer, he certainly hadn’t made any overt gestures of friendships—any gestures at all. Although, perhaps for Dudley, leaving Harry alone could be considered gesture enough.

As Harry read the letter again, he tried to decipher if there was anything he could glean from the rambling, half-thoughts which littered the missive. Except that Vernon wasn’t going to waste a tear over him, and that Petunia had gone oddly quiet, there wasn’t much sense to be made of it.

“Maybe he’s been Imperiused…”

“Who has?”

Harry looked up. “Hi Remus.”

“Hello,” Remus said with a smile, even though Harry hadn't offered one. “And good morning to you, Levi.” Levi purred, and allowed Remus to stroke his neck. “Who’s been Imperiused?” Remus asked again, once Levi was satisfied with the attention.

“Dudley.”

Remus frowned, his head tilted. “Dudley? Your cousin?”

“He wrote me a letter,” Harry explained. Since he couldn’t really explain further, he handed the letter to Remus. Remus raised his eyebrows, as though to ask Harry if he was certain he wanted to share, and at Harry’s nod, Remus read the letter through silently.

“Doesn’t sound like your cousin is very fond of cats,” Remus said with a bemused smile once he’d finished; Harry shrugged. “I didn’t think you and Dudley got along…”

“We didn’t,” Harry said, turning a little so that he could look over the grounds—he could see Hagrid’s hut in the distance; smoke curling happily from the chimney. “He always hated me.”

“It doesn’t sound as if he hates you any longer,” Remus said mildly, turning so that he and Harry were side by side as they leaned against the window ledge.

“I don’t know why he wouldn’t. I didn’t do anything… to make him stop hating me, I mean.”

“Maybe you did, and you don’t realize-”

Harry shook his head, cutting Remus off. “I didn’t see him nearly at all last summer—Dumbledore came to fetch me after only a few weeks at Privet Drive, remember? And I didn’t even speak to him in the car park in London.”

Remus pursed his lips, as he and Harry watched Hagrid and Fang loping into the Forbidden Forest.

“Your cousin was almost Kissed by Dementors, wasn’t he? The summer before fifth year?”

Harry glanced at his friend. “I don’t think even almost losing his soul to Dementors could have changed Dudley that much.”

Remus smiled a little. “Perhaps not, but you remember how you felt when the Dementor affected you on the train, don’t you?”

Harry shivered a little. He would never forget how cold and empty he’d felt when he’d heard the screaming—his mum's screaming, he knew now.

“The worst thing that’s ever happened to Dudley is that he didn’t get enough Christmas presents,” Harry said with a shake of his head. “Whatever he saw or felt when the Dementors attacked couldn’t have been as awful as what I felt.”

“Are you certain of that?” Remus asked quietly, sparing a hand to squeeze Harry's shoulder. “Even someone as pampered as Dudley may have his own demons. Your aunt certainly does…”

That was true, Harry supposed. And Draco Malfoy, the other most pampered kid Harry knew, most definitely carried around more than a few demons of his own.

Harry shook his head though, dismissing Remus’ words. “Dudley and his friends use to play a game called Harry Hunting. Later,” he continued with a shrug for Remus’ wide-eyed look, “when Dudley was too afraid of my magic, he and his gang used to torment the neighborhood children. That sort of person doesn’t just wake up one morning and decide to stop being a bully.”

“Not in one morning, no,” Remus agreed. “But over time, people grow up. Much like James did. Or Sirius…”

Harry turned back to study the forest’s leafy treetops.

Dudley Dursley… like Sirius? Even after everything he and Sirius had gone through before Christmas, Harry couldn’t reconcile the two images. Probably because he didn't want to.

--

It seemed Levi’s purring had gone into overdrive by the time Harry and Remus made their way down from the Owlery to the dungeons; Harry was even grumpier than when the day had started. The kylaria was probably beginning to wish he’d chosen Harry's father—at least he wasn’t moody.

“Absolutely not!”

Severus’ heated voice halted Harry and Remus as they reached the door to the Potions classroom.

“Do not suggest it again, Albus. The next time I see that woman, it shall be in a casket,” Severus’ clipped words reverberated against the stone walls in the corridor. A door—probably to the storage cupboard—slammed loudly.

Remus had taken a step back, his hand on Harry’s sleeve as if to pull him away from the door.

“She’s your mother, Severus-”

Harry pulled his arm from Remus’ grip. He reached to push the door open, but before he could, it was wrenched open for him.

“Yes, I am well aware that I share her genes-”

Severus’ sarcastic words were cut off as he found Harry in the doorway. His eyes widened a bit in surprise.

“Good morning, Harry… Remus,” Dumbledore said calmly from behind Severus, but Harry couldn’t miss the frustration in the old wizard’s eyes. Or perhaps, it was worry.

“Good morning, sir…” Harry said distractedly. “Is something wrong with your mother?” he asked his dad quietly.

“She is dying, Harry-”

“Albus!” Severus spun around to glare at the headmaster.

“Did you plan to keep it from him, Severus?” Dumbledore asked mildly.

“My mother’s health is not your concern."

“You are, however,” Dumbledore said, in a voice that for once, held no riddle. “If you deny yourself the opportunity to see her once more before she dies, you will almost certainly regret it.”

“I will regret not seeing the woman responsible for my wife's death?” There was an edge of fury in the question.

“It is not for Eileen, Severus. Allow yourself to make peace with her passing—for all the years-worth of damage she has wrought on your life.”

Severus’ eyes were narrowed into slits as he glared at the headmaster. “I have no desire to see her—not ever again.”

“Severus, if you are worried about your reaction to her, I can accompany you-”

“I am more than capable of controlling myself.”

“I can go with you, Dad…”

Severus spun around. “No, you may not,” he said sharply.

Harry closed his mouth.

“You are not to go anywhere near St. Mungo’s,” Severus added harshly. “Is that clear?”

Stung, Harry only nodded.

Severus’ jaw tightened, but instead of responding, he glared at Remus. “Was there something you needed?”

“Nothing at all…” Remus said quietly.

“Then if you would excuse me, I have work to do,” Severus said pointedly, including both Remus and Dumbledore in his gaze. Dumbledore sighed.

“Margaret only gives your mother three more days at most-”

“It is three days too many,” Severus said flatly, and then he pivoted on his heel and stalked over to the larger of the two storage cupboards. He pulled the door open with a loud creak, and disappeared inside.

Harry stared at the still-open door until Dumbledore put a wrinkled hand on his arm; Levi had scrambled into Harry’s palm, and he was purring madly against the fisted fingers.

“Why don’t you and Remus come along to tea?” Dumbledore suggested quietly.

Harry hesitated as he drew Levi close to his chest.

“I think your father could use a few minutes to himself,” Dumbledore assured him. To Remus said, “It is little Sirius’ naptime, I think?”

Remus nodded.

“Excellent,” Dumbledore said with a smile. He put a hand on Harry’s slumped shoulder and guided Harry from his father’s classroom. “I’m certain I can persuade Dobby to send up some of those lemon biscuits you’re so found of, Harry. And then you can tell me all about what you plan to write in your letter to Dudley.”