Darkmoon returned to the Forest of the Night by Portkey, a new one that Severus had given him, just in case there was an emergency over at Sylvanor and he needed to get in touch with them immediately. Darkmoon said that he probably wouldn't need it, considering that Dracula's vamps had been staying out of the forest ever since the big fight the wolfen had with their werewolf sires. "They don't like the fact that we half-breeds just up and thrashed one of the most feared werewolf Alphas and his pack like little babies. So they haven't been prowling around and trying to hunt within our borders. But then, the Count's vampires have always been cowards. When they hunt, they hunt helpless humans and they hate it when someone fights back. Plus, they know that we can come out of the forest now and chase them, and that really scares them. They're vulnerable during daylight and if one of us ever found their lair . . .it'd be vampire popsicle time."

"You know how to stake a vampire?" Harry asked, impressed.

"Yeah. Learned it in Supernatural Survival Guide 101," Darkmoon answered. He tucked the Portkey into his pocket. "Still, this is handy to have. Thanks, Severus." He turned to Sasha and gave her a long hug. "Well, Sash, this is your big chance. Take it and run with it."

She hugged him back. "And don't screw up."

"That goes without saying. But I know you won't. You've been wanting this for so long. Just . . .be careful. Even without werewolves, you need to watch your back."

"I always do. You be careful too, Erik. Arborsong's a good apprentice, but if you need me, don't hesitate to howl for me."

"Same goes for me, little cousin. Anybody hurts you, call me, and I'll teach them what it means to harm a packmember." Darkmoon said, his lip curling. "Have fun at school and don't study too hard."

"I'll try." She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "And Erik . . .someday it'll be your turn." She knew how much he wanted to go back to school and get a degree, prove that he was more than just a kickass Alpha warrior.

"Yeah, but it's your time now. Show all those pureblood assholes that a wolfen's got brains and brawn."

"Will do, O Fearless Leader."

Darkmoon turned to Harry. "Take care of her, Freedom."

"I will. Though she can take care of herself."

"Never hurts to have backup." He thumped Harry playfully on the back. "Gotta run, kid. No telling what Vlad's got my people doing while I'm away, the crazy fool. Thanks for inviting me to your birthday, Harry. It's nice to return to civilization for a little while and do normal things. See you!"

Then he used his Portkey and was gone in a blink.

Harry picked up the paper from the table and scanned the headlines in the Prophet. For once neither he nor Severus had the front page. His eyes widened as he saw that someone else he was . . .acquainted with did. "I don't believe it! This is such . . .bullcrap!"

"What is?" asked Meadowsweet.

"This." Harry showed her the front page. "Narcissa Malfoy is released from Azkaban on parole. She claims she was under the Imperius Curse by Lucius the entire time, and never a Voldemort supporter! That is such a damn lie! They were both supporters, and willing ones too. You can ask Hermione, Vince, Marietta, and Susan!"

"I wouldn't have thought Kingsley would have released her on only that testimony," Severus said.

"He had to. The order for parole went through before he took his oath of office."

Severus frowned. "Ah. In other words, Cornelius railroaded it before he left. Typical. I wonder what deal she made with him?"

"Is she a threat?" asked Sasha.

"A threat? The way Voldemort was?" clarified the Potions Master. "Not precisely. We've pulled her fangs, for now. But she might serve as a rallying point for some of the Death Eaters who've escaped. But she'll be watched. And so will Draco. Kingsley intends to keep tabs on all the former Death Eaters and their families, until he's sure they won't make any moves against him. That was my advice, by the way. You can't trust them. Voldemort maybe dead, but cutting off the hydra's heads doesn't mean it dies."

"Evil rarely does. It just assumes a new and more dangerous form," Sasha said sagely.

"You're right. That's why I want you to be alert, Sasha, when you're at school. I will try my best to enforce my new policies, which include stricter punishments for students who bully and harass others, but even I cannot be everywhere at once. There will be some at school, regardless of the reputation you wolfen have for being heroes, that will dislike you on sight because of who and what you are and others who will fear you for the same reason."

The Healer did not seem surprised. "I knew when I agreed to come out of Sylvanor that there would be those who distrusted and feared—the evil spread by Greyback and his pack is pervasive, and distasteful as it is, we are their children. Humans fear the different and out of fear comes hate. But that is nothing new, Severus. I thank you for the warning and I'll be on my guard."

Harry squeezed her hand. "And I've got your back. Always." He shifted in his chair and said, "I wish you didn't have to go, Sasha. To Madam Pomfrey's."

"I know . . .but, it really wouldn't look good if I stayed here," she murmured. "You're too much of a temptation for me, hawk."

He grinned at that. "Really?"

"More than you know," she half-growled. "Besides, I think it'll be good for me to get to know my mentor before the term starts. It will help if we're used to each other, since we'll be working together."

"You should get along fine with Poppy," Severus told her. "She's a sensible witch and not one to pay attention to rumors or prejudice. She was delighted when I told her about you coming to study with her. She's missed having a dedicated apprentice."

"Good. That makes me feel a whole lot better." She closed her hand about Harry's wrist. "Remember, this is not forever. Only a month and then we can see each other again."

"It's too long."

Sasha smirked. "Learn patience, my hawk. The wolf knows there is a time for everything, and this is not the end of the road, merely a temporary detour."

"I hate detours," Harry muttered. The touch of her hand against his skin made him quiver and feel hot all through his body, as if she had branded him. I belong with her and she with me, and nothing will ever part us again. Not forever. He rose to his feet, sent the breakfast dishes into the sink with a casual wave of his hand, then began to wash them the Muggle way. Once that was done, he asked Sasha if she wanted to go and watch TV or something.

"I have some really good movies. Like The Princess Bride or Ladyhawke."

"I love them! I haven't seen them since I was a kid, but I still remember." Amber eyes glowing, she went to fetch some Coke out of the fridge, and a bag of white cheddar popcorn, all of which had been left over from the party.

Severus looked at them both sternly and said, "The door is left open while you two are alone up there, am I clear?"

"Da, for Godsake!" Harry flushed. "We weren't going to . . .do anything. It's not like we're nymphos, you know."

"Nevertheless, the door stays open. You may think you can handle yourself, Harry, but I know the way teenage hormones work, so better safe than sorry."

Harry went red. "I can't believe this! You're being ridiculous—"

Meadowsweet laid her hand over his mouth. "Stop. Before you get in trouble. He's not being ridiculous, he's being a father. My mum would have told me the same, and then she would have returned periodically to lurk in the doorway. Just do as he says. His house, his rules."

"All right. But you don't have to be all paranoid, Da. You ought to trust me."

"Harry, I do trust you, most of the time, to behave responsibly. But you're sixteen and your girlfriend has just come back after a lengthy separation. Fledgling, I know what boys are like at your age—I was one—and I wouldn't have trusted myself in that situation at your age. So just do as I tell you, all right?"

Somewhat mollified, and not wanting to admit that Severus might be right, Harry agreed. Then Sasha bounded upstairs with the food and he followed. He didn't want to waste a minute of the time they had together by arguing with anyone.

They watched the movies lying on Harry's bed side by side on their stomachs, eating from the floating bag of popcorn and sipping from their Cokes. Their fingers touched multiple times when they reached into the popcorn bag and if sometimes Sasha happened to lean her head on Harry's shoulder, neither of them cared.

A few times, Harry was tempted to take her in his arms and kiss her until he was breathless, but he didn't want to prove Severus right. It was hard though, for her breath was warm and sweet in his ear and her body was supple and yet soft, snuggled next to him. He could fully empathize with the frustrated Navarre in Ladyhawke unable to touch his beloved Isabeau except in her hawk form. He concentrated upon the movie, it was one of his favorites, the shots of the red-tailed hawk were amazing, and so was the black wolf.

"Think they used Darkmoon for a model?" he joked.

"Doubtful. Erik would have been much bigger and that wolf has no white moon upon his chest. But he's a good size for a normal wolf. I love this movie." She turned, and he fed her some popcorn. She nipped playfully at his fingers.

"Hey! Don't bite the hand that feeds you."

The next time he offered her some popcorn he laid it flat on his palm and she gently took it out of his hand, giving him a kiss on the palm as she did so. He felt fire start to smolder within him and smiled. This was how it was supposed to be.

"Better?' she inquired archly.

"Mmm . . .I'm never going to wash my hand again."

She threw him a look. "That's disgusting."

"Kidding."

"Thank you God. Because I don't go for guys with BO. I have a very sensitive nose."

He tweaked it. "That's another thing I love about you."

She laughed so hard she nearly spilled her Coke. "Stop it!"

"What?"

"Trying to make me kiss you."

"Do I have to make you?" His lips were inches from hers.

"No." To illustrate her point, she kissed him. "Now enough."

"Never enough," he whispered. But then he turned and began watching the movie again, for it was at his favorite part, when the two cursed lovers confront the evil Bishop. See, Da. I'm in control. No worries. But deep down inside he knew that if Severus hadn't been there, and they had been alone, he might have been tempted to kiss her and never stop.

When Ladyhawke was over, they simply lay on the bed, cuddling, until the semi-hot temperature in the room made them drowsy and they fell asleep, with Sasha's head resting upon Harry's shoulder.

Severus came up to make sure everything was all right and found them that way, dark and light hair contrasting upon the blanket like a chiaroscuro painting. He permitted himself a bittersweet smile. Orphan stormbirds that have found shelter in each other's embrace. Once, long ago, I was just like you. I thought the love I had for Lily would last a lifetime. It didn't even survive our first real quarrel. I hope, for both your sakes, that you have a different ending. The happy ending you both deserve.

Then he turned and left, after retrieving the empty Coke cans and the popcorn bag.

Sasha spent the weekend with Harry, Severus, and Paul, who told Harry that Sasha was so hot she could jumpstart an undersea volcano. The three teenagers spent most of their time downtown, either at the arcade, the ice cream shoppe, or just hanging around. Harry cherished every moment with her, and when it was time for her to leave and meet Madam Pomfrey, he felt as if he were leaving Sylvanor all over again. But he did his best to put on a brave face and kissed her goodbye, Severus and she traveled by Floo to Poppy's house, and once the green flames had died down, Harry sat on the couch and brooded.

Major jumped into his lap, purring and rubbing, as if to say, There now, it's not for long and you can bear anything so long as I'm here.

Harry scratched the gray cat under the chin and started counting down the days before school. It was only the beginning of August, he still had more than three weeks left. Suddenly it seemed monotonous. He saw Hermione's gift sitting on the coffee table and picked it up. He had started putting pictures in it from the party, and his gaze lingered upon one Hermione had taken of himself and Meadowsweet. His fingers traced the wolfen's silvery hair. Ah, Sasha! I miss you already and you haven't been gone ten minutes. He closed his eyes and thought about the way her voice sounded, all soft and sweet when she spoke his name, her scent was like strawberries and something stronger, like hyacinths, and the feel of her arms about him made him long to commit illicit acts with her that would probably get him kicked out of his house.

But it would be worth it . . .almost.

He spent a few more minutes snuggling with Major, who even though he wasn't usually a snuggling sort of cat, allowed Harry to do so, perhaps sensing the boy needed that kind of thing right then.

After Major sprang off his lap, there was only so much hugging the cat would tolerate, Harry thought about what he would like to do the rest of the day, which was sleep until September 1st. But since that wasn't an option, he then thought about what he should be doing, which was watering the new flowers he and Severus had planted three days before.

It had felt odd, having someone else help with the gardening when he had become used to doing it alone, and usually with one eye out for Dudley, for so many years. Petunia had taught him how to use a trowel and a watering can when he was five and as soon as he could tell a dandelion from a marigold, she sent him out to tend the garden. But Severus had worked alongside him and the new flowers had been planted in half the time. Now all Harry needed to do was make certain they had enough water.

So he reluctantly rose and got the hose and began watering. It brought back some unpleasant memories of Dudley pushing him face first into the mulch and making him eat dirt, or stepping on the new petunias and tulips and wrecking them, then blaming Harry for being so clumsy. Harry recalled many times he had been locked in the cupboard for his cousin's nasty pranks, or had gotten smacked about by Petunia and made to redo the whole plot without any supper. He remembered days when it was so hit he could have fried an egg on the walk, and Petunia had locked him out of the house, and he had sweated and nearly died of heat stroke, trying to garden, and the only way he didn't pass out was from drinking from the hose like a dog, and then dousing himself till he was soaking.

That too had earned him his aunt's razor tongue and a few cuffs on the head for acting like a barbarian. What if the neighbors saw, boy? Have you no pride? Or any sense at all? That's what comes of marrying a deadbeat. A no-good, good-for-nothing kid who acts like he comes from the rubbish bin.

Now he answered her in his mind, as he had never dared to when he lived under her roof. Better the rubbish bin than from hell, Aunt. And if the neighbors did see, then they would know that in a heat wave like that, you'll do anything to keep cool, it's not like I took my clothes off and ran naked down the street.

He finished watering and coiled the hose neatly and went inside to get a cool glass of lemonade and a few crisps. He was done with Petunia and Privet Drive. And he thanked his lucky stars for that.

Perhaps because of his musing, or because Sasha was not there to occupy his mind so thoroughly, that night Harry had a strange dream. He dreamed he was back on Privet Drive, doing all the same chores as usual, while Petunia stood over him with a broom and threatened to use it on him unless he completed everything before Vernon got home. He started to sweat and his breath came in gasps, and then he fainted. When he woke up, he found Petunia and Dudley had somehow exchanged places with him and now he was the one holding the broom, or rather, a wand on them. Until Voldemort came along and disarmed Harry and changed him into a house elf, bound to serve the Dursleys for all eternity.

He awoke shaking and sweating, his heart pounding, and he was cold, having kicked off all the covers during his nightmare. That was really freaky. And so not a good dream. He got up and turned on the light, he could now sleep in a dark room, as long as there was a small night light in the hallway. But right then he needed the light to chase away the shadows in his mind.

He headed down the hall to the bathroom, glancing at his watch and discovering it was only four o'clock in the morning. After he had relieved himself and drank a glass of water, he headed back to bed, but found he was unable to sleep. It took him a good hour to fall asleep, and he only managed it after Major stalked in and lay on his feet, purring like a rusty engine.

When he woke for the second time, he felt groggy and out of sorts. He was quiet at breakfast, and Severus' trouble radar started buzzing.

"Harry, is there something the matter? You seem awfully quiet."

"I . . .didn't sleep real well last night," the teenager answered, after he had gulped down some orange juice. "Had a weird dream."

"Weird as in funny or as in frightening?" Severus asked, sipping a cup of coffee.

"A little of both." Harry nibbled at his toast.

"Can you remember it?"

"Yeah. It's what kept me up till five thirty." Harry said. "I dreamed about the Dursleys. Aunt Petunia and Dudley mostly." He described the dream to Severus.

Severus drank more coffee and pondered for a few moments before he spoke again. "You never went back to Privet Drive or saw them again at the end of term, did you? No, because Albus insisted on dealing with them himself and sparing you the trouble. We went directly to find Riddle Manor. Perhaps that wasn't a wise decision."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you never really got closure from your relatives. You never got the chance to see them and tell them how you felt about the way they treated you all those years."

"We didn't really have time for me to sit down and have a chat over tea, Da."

"I know, but that's why you're having these weird dreams now. It's your subconscious' way of trying to deal with what they did and how they made you feel. They hurt you as badly as Voldemort ever did, son." Severus looked grim.

"But Grandpa punished them for it."

"Exactly. He punished them, not you. You never got to see the results of that punishment and so your mind has started inventing possible punishments of its own. Hence the role reversal. And your fear that you might end up bound to them forever."

"Huh? I don't understand."

"Think about it. You have unfinished business with them. You left, true, but at the same time you didn't confront what you fear. I think you need to go back there, Harry, and see them once more. See what has happened to them since the curse and tell them what you think of them—all of them. And then you can leave and sleep again at night."

Harry was silent for a long time. Was his father right? Did he need to return to Privet Drive once more? He thought about what he knew about the Dursleys and the curse Dumbledore had cast. He wondered who was doing the gardening now? Petunia? Had she made Dudley do it? Or had they hired someone? Who was doing all the inside chores now? A maid? Or was his cousin finally learning the value of hard work? Was Dudley still huge, or had that diet finally shed some pounds? Did Uncle Vernon still resemble a walrus and huff and puff like a train on the verge of collapse? He hadn't realized just how many questions had gone unanswered until now. He had thought he was done with Privet Drive. Maybe he had been wrong. He discovered that he did wish to confront Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley again. Just once, so he could give them a good tongue-lashing. Anger swirled and boiled in his stomach, making him feel slightly sick.

He looked up at the man who had become his parent and said, "You're right. I need to go back. But I don't want to do it alone. Will you come with me?"

"I wouldn't have let you go otherwise. I have a few things to say to them myself." Severus replied. "When would you like to leave?"

"Now," his son answered. "The sooner we go, the sooner this will be over, and I can have a decent night's sleep again."

"Take my arm," Severus ordered, and when Harry did so, they Apparated to Surrey.

By now Harry had become somewhat accustomed to Sidelong Apparition and so did not get nauseous any longer when they arrived at their destination. Privet Drive looked as it always had, neat little box houses all in a row with manicured lawns and identical shrubs, like a child's idea of a perfect town, all uniform and boring. Number four was like its neighbors, grass mown, hedges trimmed, even the flowers were still decorating the walk in neat soldierly rows.

Harry stared at the house and fought back a wave of anger accompanied by a wave of nausea. Nothing had changed. Absoultely nothing. Except . . .Vernon's car was in the drive. What was it doing there? He should have been at work now. Harry felt his stomach clench in atavistic fear. He had dreaded those times when his uncle got off early, because it always meant extra work or trouble for him. Irritated, Harry clamped down on that emotion. Quit it! He can't hurt you anymore. None of them can. Now stop acting like a chicken and go up and ring the bell.

"Something's odd here," Harry told Severus. "Vernon's car is here."

"Maybe he got laid off. Or sacked permanently," Severus said, his voice tinged with satisfaction. "Serve the big booby right."

Harry had to smile at that term. "It would." He squared his shoulders, feeling like he were going to battle again, and headed up the walk, Severus was right behind him.

Harry rang the bell and after a minute heard the latch being undone and a woman call, "Who is it?"

Harry was very tempted to yell, "Avon calling!" but restrained himself by a very thin margin.

Before he could say anything, Severus said, "Petunia, open the blasted door, before I break it down."

Petunia gasped. "Snape, you miserable freak crow!" She yanked open the door, saw Harry, and screamed. "Oh my God! He's back! Vernon, our . . .wonderful . . .sweet . . .kind . . .nephew . . .is back." She sounded very cheerful, but also as if the words were being pulled from her, her mouth was smiling, but her eyes were glacier cold. Then she went to slam the door in their face.

But Severus gestured and the door slammed back against the wall, narrowly missing Petunia's head. "Don't underestimate me, Petunia." He growled and strode inside.

"You—you can't just come in here, Snape!" she blustered. "Vernon! Get your sorry arse down here! We have . . .company!" She looked as if she had swallowed a lemon after saying that. "Get in here before someone sees!"

Both Harry and Severus stepped inside and Petunia slammed the door shut. "Why are you here, Snape? I thought we were finally free of your kind after that batty old man told us our brilliant nephew was staying with someone else for the summer."

"I am here because my ward wishes to speak with you. And so do I." Severus said coldly. "Do get your lazy husband down here and your son, I have something I wish to say to all of you and I am not in the habit of repeating myself."

Petunia opened her mouth to yell for her menfolk, but closed it when Severus sneered, "Go and fetch them, woman, because if I have to, you won't like the condition they'll be in."

Petunia gave him a horrified stare, as if he had threatened to murder them, and scurried up the staircase. She found Vernon with a bottle of Scotch in his hand, trying to drink away the nightmares they experienced every time they closed their eyes, night or day. Nightmares where they became the nephew they had abused, though they still refused to acknowledge what they had done was abuse. And thus the dreams continued. "Vernon! You have to come downstairs, now! We've got visitors. Harry and one of them! Hurry!"

Vernon stared at her, slack-jawed. "One of those freaks? Again?" he looked like he wanted to dive under the bed. "What do they want? Why can't they leave us alone?"

"I don't know! Just come down!" Petunia wailed, then she went to get Dudley.

Harry heard the thud THUD of the Dursleys coming down the stairs, and soon saw that Vernon had lost a few pounds, enough to make him look like a baby seal instead of a walrus. Dudley looked like himself, only his hair was longer and his face leaner. All of the Dursleys looked at Harry and Severus as if they were demons from hell come to torment them.

Vernon paled when he saw Severus and said, his voice high and unsteady, "W-what do you want from us?"

"To talk. Or rather, we'll talk and you will listen. Sit down!" Severus pointed to the stuffed chair and couch in the living room.

"We'd prefer to stand," Petunia said in chilly tones.

"That wasn't a request. Sit!" Snape barked.

The Dursleys bolted for the chair and the sofa, Dudley whimpering and putting his hands over his bottom. They practically fell into their seats.

"Now then," Severus said, his voice cold as winter, his hands behind his back in his lecture pose, just as he did when he was teaching class. "We have come here to ensure three things—that you are still paying for your crime of mistreating a child under your care, and so the both of us can let you know exactly what we think of people like yourselves."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Vernon blustered. "We're good people, not . . .not freaks like you!"

"He's not a freak!" Harry snapped, and glared at Vernon.

Vernon went red and seemed to struggle for breath. "How . . .how brilliant of you to say so, nephew!" It was obvious that was not what he had intended to say at all.

"Good people?" Severus repeated sarcastically. "What is your definition of good, Vernon Dursley? Are you good if you have a job and provide for your family, put food on the table, send your son to private school? Yes? Then why did you not extend that same courtesy to your nephew? I'll tell you why. Because he was born with a gift you shall never possess, a gift that scares you spitless, that makes your bowels turn to water. Magic. Good people like you don't do magic, right, Dursley? Good people like you whisper in corners about magic being a tool of the devil and you persecute innocent children because they deserve it? Is that not how you rationalize it? Magic is evil, therefore so are wizards, and since your nephew is a wizard, you have the right to treat him like rubbish? A slave to fetch and carry, or be a punching bag when things don't go right at the office? You're so good that you give your nephew scraps and call it a feast, lock him in a cupboard and call it a room, take money from his dead parents' trust fund for his upkeep, and never spend a penny on him. Please! Don't make me weep! You are just the epitome of goodness and generosity and people should line up and kiss your sainted arse."

Each word Snape spoke was delivered in his worst razor-sharp, sarcastic tone. The kind that drew blood and made firsties cry. He eyed them with the same look he had reserved for Bellatrix Lestrange, and the Dursleys trembled.

"Shall I go on? You are such good people that you allowed your son to become a wretched spoiled brat who cares only about stuffing his face and beating up anyone younger and weaker than he is. A son to make a mother proud, right, Petunia? The example everyone should live by. And what about your nephew, which you took in out of the goodness of your heart? Oh yes, you gave him charity—old clothes, broken toys, a tissue for Christmas, a sock for his birthday. You indulged one and ignored the other—quite a display of goodness there, wouldn't you say? Is that a halo I see above you? No? Maybe if I squint harder . . .Tell me, Petunia, how are you sleeping at night? Do you dream?"

"I . . .I . . .sometimes . . ."

"And what do you dream about? Winning the lottery? A new car? Getting your lazy arse husband on a diet? No? Let me guess. You dream about one thing and one thing only. Your nephew Harry. And how you good people made his life a living hell. Is that not so?" Snape leaned forward, his dark eyes cold and pitiless, like a snake about to strike. "I said . . .is . . .that . . .not . . .so?"

Petunia started to sob. "Yes! Yes! We can't sleep. Everytime we try . . .he's there in our dreams . . .and we can't escape . . .please . . .please . . .Snape . . .I'm begging you . . .take it away! Vernon's so exhausted . . .he fell asleep at a meeting and now he's on probation . . .I almost burnt the house down because I turned the gas on the stove and fell asleep and forgot about it . . .and Dudley's so tired he falls asleep over his plate, the poor dear!" She covered her face with her hands.

"Ah. Such a shame. To see good people like yourselves . . .getting a taste of your own medicine at last!" Now Severus bared his teeth in a savage grin. "I would feel sorry for you . . .except I am a firm believer in justice. Were you truly good people, as you claim, you would have repented and been set free. But you still suffer under the curse and that means . . .you are the evil ones, not Harry. Remove it? I would add to it if I could! For what you have done, Petunia, to your own flesh and blood, I have no mercy."

"Please, Severus! For Lily's sake!"

Quick as a viper, Severus struck, dragging Petunia off the sofa and glaring at her with a terrible hatred. "For Lily's sake? You dare to speak of her, you bloody bitch? For Lily's sake I am not making you suffer the torments of the damned. For Lily's sake I am not going to harm your cowardly husband and fat pig of a son. And that, Petunia Evans Dursley, is all the mercy you shall ever have from me!"

He practically flung the weeping Petunia back on the couch.

"Why is Harry here?" whined Dudley.

Harry stood up, and for the first time he allowed anger and contempt to show in his emerald eyes. "I'm here, Dud, to see if you've changed any since I left. Guess what? You haven't, not really. You're still the same selfish, self-serving, greedy, nasty bastards I grew up with. Curse or no curse, I don't think you'll ever change. Not because you can't, but because you don't want to. When I was little, I used to want to please you, because that's what you do with family. But it was never enough. I used to think it was my fault. Only it wasn't. It was yours. Always yours. You were cruel, heartless, hateful. And I did nothing to deserve it. Nothing!" His hands clenched into fists. "How does it feel now, Dud, to be pummeled and kicked and to get in trouble all the time for something you didn't do? Sucks, right? Welcome to my world."

He whirled and looked at Vernon next. "Uncle Vernon, I used to think you were the bogeyman, always out to get me. How does it feel, to have a fat psycho walrus in men's clothing breathing down your neck, ready to kick your arse? Nothing you do is ever good enough, right? Everything you do is wrong and its always your fault. One way or another you know you're going to get smacked. Hope you enjoy it. It made you feel good doing it, I know. I used to be afraid of you, but now . . .now you're just . . .pitiful. A fat old slob who smells like shit and stale Glenlivit."

Then he turned on Petunia. "As for you, Aunt, I would have done anything once for a kind word or a smile from you. You were my mum's sister, it was your job to treat me the way she would have done. Only you didn't. You betrayed her, over and over. You have ice water in your veins, not blood. And I thank Merlin that you're not my mother, because you're the worst kind—smothering, false, and without a heart. My mother died for me. You could have raised me. But all you ever did was ignore me. How do you like it, when you scream yourself hoarse in the dark and no one comes? When all you want is a hug and all you get is the cold shoulder or a slap in the face? Makes you feel all warm and fuzzy,huh? To know that you matter less than a pair of garden shears." Petunia opened and shut her mouth, and no sound emerged. "Nothing to say? Well, here's my final word. If you want to know what a real mother's like, look at my mum's picture sometime. Maybe you'll get a clue."

"Harry . . .don't leave us . . .you can come back . . . we'll give you anything you want . . .please . . .this is your home . . .we can make it right . . ." sobbed Petunia.

"No. You can't." Her nephew declared coldly. "This was never my home. You made sure of that. Privet Drive belongs to your kind of people, not mine. And you can have it. As far as the curse goes, it was intended for you to learn a lesson. Guess you're too stupid to know that though. It'll leave when you've learned it and not before. Even if it takes you the rest of your lives. Better pay attention."

He rose to his feet, all of the anger and resentment and fear drained out of him. "I'm done here. This is the last you'll ever see of me. Have the life you've earned." He turned to go, and Severus was at his side in an instant. Then he called over his shoulder, "One more thing. A word of advice. Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger."

And with that, Harry and Severus departed Privet Drive forever, leaving all as it had been before.