Disclaimer
The characters and universe created by J.K.Rowling are hers alone. As imitation is the sincerest form of flattery I hope this story can be taken in that way.
About this story
The original short written for the Felix Felicis Competition was a hasty construct to fulfil a need after the release of HBP, and as I was in the middle of writing the last part of Forever Together, it didn't receive the attention it deserved. I had not intended to write another story such as the one that follows, but the two chapters of The Letter would not let me go and in order for me to complete my obligations to Harry and Hermione I had to take it to conclusion. With everything I have written I have tried to remain faithful to the sprit of the cannon books, which is why you will find no rampant uninhibited sex, or invasion of the story by armoured space marines. If Harry and Hermione falling in love makes this tale AU then so be it, but remember JK's mind is like an English country lane full of twists and turns, and the hedges on both sides are so high that you cannot see where you are going until you get there.
So we start with Harry worrying about what is to come in the future, but being heartened with the thought that at least he will have one last golden day of peace with Ron and Hermione……
Harry Potter and The Final Enchantment.
Chapter One
The Letter
When the scarlet train drew into Kings Cross station at platform 9¾ Harry left giving hardly a glance back at the pair he had travelled with down from Hogwarts. They were chatting together, standing close, probably talking about Bill and Fleur's up and coming wedding, though it could have been any subject, anything to keep their minds off the events of the last few weeks and what the future held for them all.
'At least they have each other.' Harry thought and gave a deep sigh. Stepping through the arch he scanned the muggle side for any evidence of his Aunt and Uncle; as he expected there was none, so he would have to make his own way to Little Whinging. Still it wasn't difficult, a ride on the Underground and then he could walk or catch the bus from Tadworth station. Harry headed toward the escalators to take him down to the Underground, his thoughts so introspective that he failed to see the colourful figure following him from a discrete distance but keeping a firm contact. It looked as if Harry was being shadowed by a refugee from a circus, as his gaily dressed tail flitted from place to place behind him, only to finally baulk at following Harry down the muggle contraption that carried him into the bowels of the earth. The other occurrence that Harry missed, though he would have needed the ears of an acoustic wombat used to listening across miles of the Australian desert for the cry of its mate to hear it, was the worried shout of, "Harry, Harry, where are you!" as Hermione finally realised he had left platform 9¾ without saying goodbye.
Harry managed to stay with the Dursleys for two weeks; he kept himself to himself, spending most of the daylight hours wandering the streets, only returning to the house as darkness fell. He avoided all contact with his Uncle Vernon, and thankfully Dudley had not returned from school yet. He was spending extra time there on a 'Think Thin' course, though Harry seriously doubted this would have any effect as thinking was not one of little Dudder's strong points, and Harry was absolutely convinced that his large cousin would never grasp the concept of thin. The only one of his three relations he spent any time with was his Aunt Petunia, and for some reason from the moment he had re-entered the house she had regarded him most strangely. It was almost as if she wanted to ask him something but couldn't quite bring herself to do so. So in the end Harry, with his frustrations mounting, began to avoid her as well.
When he could stand it no longer, and he hoped that he had fulfilled his promise to Dumbledore, Harry gathered up his few possessions and began to stuff them into a haversack that had once belonged to his cousin. Harry knew Dudley would not miss it. Vernon and Petunia had bought the bag when Dudley briefly entertained the idea of doing a Duke of Edinburgh Award, but when he discovered it required some physical input the plan was rapidly dropped.
Then late one night without saying goodbye, something that was becoming a habit, Harry slipped down the stairs and out of the front door. He shut it as quietly as possible and headed off down the path. Hardly had he gone thirty yards when a figure stepped out of the bushes into the light from a street lamp. Harry's wand was in his hand in an instant, but he lowered it again as he recognised the face of his one time Professor Remus Lupin.
"Hello Professor," Harry said tightly, "still keeping an eye on me then?"
"You could say that Harry," Lupin replied, "and it's Remus remember? We were worried about you."
"Really, you surprise me." said Harry sarcastically.
"Oh Harry, that's not worthy of you." said Lupin sadly. "Where are you going?"
"It's none of your damn..." but Harry stopped his heated retort. It wasn't Remus' fault that Dumbledore had left him alone, and it wasn't his fault that Harry was going to die trying to finish Voldemort. Even if he succeeded Harry knew he wouldn't survive because he was going to have to do it on his own. Ron and Hermione would be behind him and that gave him comfort, but at the very end he would be alone. He had made that decision; he wouldn't put anyone else at risk. That meant he could lay all his troubles at the feet of one person. It was Harry's fault …his fault alone. "I was heading for the Burrow," Harry finished quietly.
Remus gave him a weak smile, slipped an arm around his shoulders and gave him a fatherly squeeze. "Let's go together, shall we?" he waited for Harry's nod of assent. "Good, that's settled," he said with obvious relief, and the pair set off in search of the Knight Bus.
* * *
The preparations for Bill and Fleur's wedding, which was to take place in two days time, had reached a fever pitch. Mrs Weasley, Ginny and Hermione were so involved with it all that they were unaware of the tensions that had built up over the last week or so elsewhere in the camp.
Maybe Ginny had noticed, but although she understood Harry's reasons for shutting her out of his life, it still hurt, so she tried not to concentrate her thoughts on him. She knew Harry was miserable but then he had a lot of things to be miserable about, she was unaware that the most recent cause was her slightly older brother.
Hermione hadn't noticed either, she had spoken to Harry on a few occasions but their talk had been light and meaningless, and Harry had brushed aside any enquiries as to how he was getting on. Now what with helping Mrs Weasley with the wedding arrangements and her uncharacteristic enthusiasm with her burgeoning relationship with Ron, she was blinded to all else. She was in a sense happy and just for the moment Harry Potter was low down in her priorities. So it came as a bit of a shock to her that on going up to her room that evening she found a note on her bed written in Harry's untidy scrawl. It was very short.
Dear Hermione,
Please don't worry about me, I understand now Ron has explained. Thanks for your help in the past. See you sometime.
Love Harry.
That very same evening Ron clumped up the stairs and headed to his room, which as usual he was sharing with Harry, he had changed into his pyjamas and was about to get into his own bed when he glanced across at Harry's. It was empty, and the letter he had finally written to Harry and left for him to find was scrunched up on the bedspread. He reached across to pick it up, and he felt a little twinge of guilt when he saw that all of Harry's stuff was gone as well. Then his resolve hardened, his decision had been correct for all of them, of that he had no doubt. He unravelled the letter in his hand, glanced at the words he had so carefully written, and then crumpled it up again. He made to throw the parchment into the bin when the door to his bedroom banged open and his vision of loveliness and the light of his life, stood in its frame.
"Hi," he said with a smile "to what do I owe the pleasure of your company tonight fair maiden." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.
The reply he received was curt and not what he was expecting.
"Cut the crap Ron," said Hermione angrily, "where's Harry? Does he tell you in your letter?"
"Uh…my letter?" he replied unsure as to what letter she was talking about.
"Yes, your one from Harry," she pointed at the parchment in his hand, "…you're holding it." Exasperation with Ron was rapidly taking the place of the anger she was feeling towards Harry.
"OH…" he said understanding his confusion at last, he laughed, unwisely, "this one's not from Harry, this is the one I wrote to Harry."
Exasperation was now replaced with astonishment; Hermione couldn't get her mind around what Ron had just said as it made absolutely no sense to her. She calmed herself for a moment and she ran a jumble of thoughts through her head. Seeming to have them in some sort of order, she regarded her boyfriend.
"Why on earth would you write a letter to Harry?" She said in an even tone. "He's been right here for over a week now and you've been with him most of the time, haven't you?" A flash of guilt crossed Ron's face and Hermione's astonishment was giving way to suspicion.
"Ah…no…not really." he admitted shamefully. "We haven't been talking much, it's all been a little difficult what with him being so down about Dumbledore. You see," he explained, "I needed to tell Harry how we really felt about this looking for Voldemort's …err… horroxes." Ron shrugged his shoulders assuming correctly he had the term wrong, "You know; now things have changed. Like us and our future. I thought I could explain it better in a letter, I mean you know how I find it hard to …err… like I can't tell anyone how to…Uh…" he stopped his ramblings, defeated in his explanation. "Perhaps you should read what I wrote to him."
Ron watched as Hermione uncrumpled the parchment and began to read, he knew she would agree with what he had done. It was their future that was important now, if things went badly in England there was nothing to stop them going abroad, there were too many wizards out there for 'him' to control them all.
Ron watched as Hermione began to frown, it was OK though she loved him, she might care for Harry, but she loved him, and he loved her, and wanted her safe, that was what this was all about.
Ron watched as Hermione began to shake, she must have reached that bit about how their love was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened, and why he had made the decision he had.
Ron watched as Hermione sat down heavily on the end of Harry's bed, she seemed to be shaking her head, was there something he had forgotten to put in the letter? … No he had covered all the bases, he was sure he had left nothing out.
Ron watched as the first tear dropped on to the parchment held in her hands.
* * *
Hermione snatched the crumpled parchment from Ron's hand and opening it up began to read.
Dear Harry,
Look mate you know how hard it is for me to explain things out right so I thought it would be best if I wrote it down instead. We, that is Herms (Hermione) and I know that since Dumbledore's death you have been a bit down in the dumps, and in order to cheer you up we said that we would be with you whatever. Well it's like this, now that Herms and I have, you know, 'found' each other and our relationship is going very well, it alters the picture a bit.
Hermione frowned at the words on the parchment, she wasn't sure she was really reading them correctly.
You see there is no way I will allow Herms to put herself in any danger. I know that if you ask her she would follow you and possibly with what you have to do she could get herself killed and I can't permit her to do that. I don't want her to get filled with all sorts of noble ideas that finishing off Voldemort is the most important thing, when it is our love and future which is important.
There was something very wrong here. Hermione found that her hands had started to shake, she could feel the heat rising in her face, but she kept her head down and continued to read.
I don't wish to play you down but you couldn't even get the better of Snape last term, so your chances with Voldemort aren't good. Are they? And it stands to reason that anyone with you will go the same way.
I mean we do wish you luck and all that and no one would be more pleased than us if you were to, by some miracle, pull it off. However I have made the decision that you will have to go on without us. I would rather you didn't confuse Herms by talking to her before you go, now she is with me I have to make decisions for both of us, and I don't want these decisions open for discussion.
Hermione felt her legs lose their strength and she dropped down on to Harry's bed. She couldn't believe what she had been reading, she tried to deny that these words were actually written down in front of her and shook her head, but the words remained.
So there it is, that is the way we really feel about it, I don't suppose you will want to hang around for much longer now. We will understand if you don't say goodbye.
Good luck Harry.
Your best mates Ron and Herms.
Hermione felt the tears well up in her eyes; she couldn't prevent the first from splashing down onto the parchment.
* * *
She was hard put to describe the feelings coursing through her at that particular moment, but she tried.
Anger, yes there was definitely anger.
Disbelief, oh yeah, she really had that one.
Betrayal, she wasn't sure, she had never been betrayed before, but it did seem to fit.
Sadness, yes that was the one, sadness, that Harry had actually read this drivel. Sadness, that he had accepted it, at its face value, and had gone away. Sadness, that Ron thought so little of their friendship that he could drive away someone who needed them so much, even if he was the only other boy Hermione had ever had any feelings for. Sadness, that was so deep and profound that she could find no other way to express the feeling than the tears which were falling freely now. Then there was a voice which invaded that well of sadness.
"Well what do you think?" said Ron, far too brightly for his own good, "It took me a while to write it I can tell you, but I am pretty sure I got it right in the end."
Hermione shut her eyes, the words she heard were as bad as the ones she had just read, and suddenly the sadness wasn't enough, and the anger that had been sitting in the wings, waiting, burst forth.
"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO HARRY?" she shouted loud enough to stop the ghoul in the attic in the middle of banging the pipes.
Ron's mouth dropped open, but Hermione was only just warming up.
"YOU KNEW HOW HE WAS FEELING. HOW WELL HE WAS FIGHTING ALL THAT SORROW. HOW HE KNEW THAT FOR ALL OUR FUTURES THAT IN THE END HE WOULD HAVE TO DESTROY VOLDEMORT ON HIS OWN. THAT THE ONLY CRUMB OF COMFORT THAT HE HAD WAS THAT UNTIL THAT MOMENT THE THREE OF US WOULD BE TOGETHER. AND YOU EVEN TOOK THAT AWAY FROM HIM."
"But Herms," Ron was astounded by her reaction, "I was only thinking of you and your happiness."
Hermione could feel her head beginning to spin, her anger reached such a level that the air around her began to spark and crackle, and then she launched into her final tirade.
"HOW DARE YOU DECIDE TO MAKE DECISIONS FOR ME …YOU DO NOT OWN ME RONALD WEASLEY. NO ONE OWNS ME… AND DON'T YOU EVER, EVER CALL ME HERMS AGAIN… MY NAME IS HERMIONE."
With a brilliant flash of indignation and a detonation that blew the windows out of Ron's room, and the door off its hinges, Hermione vanished.
Mr and Mrs Weasley rushed up the stairs and appeared in the doorway seconds after the explosion. They surveyed the damage with horror, and it was only the fact that they had heard Hermione's raised voice that persuaded them that Ron had not been the victim of a Death Eater attack. They found Ron crawling out from under his upturned bed where he had been blown by the blast. He was ashen faced and had a nose bleed.
"What in Merlin's name has been going on here?" said Mr Weasley crossly. "We could hear Hermione shouting from downstairs, then this explosion ….Ron explain."
Ron pointed down, with a shaking hand, to a singed piece of parchment, smoking gently, that had settled on the floor.
As Mr Weasley bent to pick it up Ron his voice shaking in fear with the beginnings of the realisation of what he had done, said. "Oh Mum, Dad, I think I have just made the biggest mistake of my life." he collapsed down onto the remains of Harry's bed and sat there contemplating the results of his actions. Ron's parents read the letter and Ron could see the looks of incredularity spread across their faces. They looked down at their youngest son with expressions bordering on disgust that even Percy hadn't earned. Ron was left in no doubt that he had really made a mess of this one. "What am I going to do?" he wailed.
* * *
There was a stream which ran through the field next to the Burrow, near it was a large weeping willow and beneath its drooping branches there was an old log bench. That was where Hermione found herself standing. She hadn't set a destination in her mind when she had apparated, she had just let go. As she calmed down and her eyes became used to the dark she remembered that this was the last place that she and Harry had been alone together.
It was when, yesterday… no two days ago now; they had been talking about old times at school, the times when the adventures were fun, the times when the thoughts of facing Voldemort were a long way off.
Now Harry was gone to who knows where, driven away by that great long prat who thought he owned her. Hermione sat on the log seat close to the bank, buried her face in her hands, and cried.
Her sobs were so loud as to drown out the footsteps of the dark shadow that approached her from the direction of the house. The shadow grew as it closed on her, extending its arms as if to grab her from behind, but Hermione was only aware of its presence when a warm woollen cloak was draped over her shoulders.
"Hi," said a very familiar voice that alerted Hermione to the identity of her companion.
"Oh, thanks Ginny," Hermione sniffed back the tears.
The young red head moved to the front of the bench to sit next to the girl she regarded more like a sister than a friend, and put a comforting arm around her shoulders.
"I am sorry but I couldn't help but overhear you, and Mum and Dad have just told me what my bloody brother has done. I can't believe he could be so stupid." Ginny searched for the words, "Poor Harry, we have to do something, he won't stand a chance out there on his own." Hermione said nothing and Ginny, thinking of her short lived romance with the boy who had so much depending on him, went on. "You know I really miss being with him," she sighed, "he was so lonely at the end of last term; it broke my heart to see him like that," she gave a sad little laugh. "You know I have had a crush on him since …well since the first time I saw him, but I never dared to allow it to be more than that …and then what with you and Ron and everything else I just let my emotions free. It was wonderful for me and while it lasted I think he enjoyed it too. I only wanted to make to make him happy."
Hermione's bushy haired head turned towards the younger girl, and gave her the faintest of smiles. "You did Ginny," she said quietly to her, "he was the happiest I have ever seen him, and he told me so."
"He told you?" Ginny said with some surprise.
"Yes," was the gentle response.
"But why would he tell you?" The question was almost a demand for information.
"Oh Ginny…" Hermione said sadly, "Why? ...because we have always told each other these things …almost from the beginning. I have never been able to keep a secret from Harry, and he, despite trying, has never been able to keep a secret from me. It's just the way it's been between us."
Ginny suddenly saw something that had never occurred to her before. She had assumed like everyone else, including probably Harry and Hermione, that they were just the closest of friends, but now she could see that there was something more. Then she felt cheated, were they in love? That was hard to say…perhaps, …perhaps not, whatever they felt for each other Ginny knew it was far more than a simple teenage infatuation. Then she began to understand, and it dashed any thoughts of her trying to get back with Harry. He and Hermione, they were two sides of the same coin; they depended on each other for the magic to work between them. She knew that separated neither of them would survive very long, how painful and disastrous had been those times at school when their friendship had slipped even just a little. There was an unassailable connection there whether they knew it or not, and Ron was not going to like it. Yet there was another problem, sometimes even with the two of them it hadn't been enough, there had always been three and probably though at this time she hated to consider it, they were going to need Ron as well. This awful situation was going to take some fixing; and if she was to do the fixing she need to know how bad things had become. She decided to test the water.
"Err… what are you going to do about Ron?" she asked, mentally ducking to avoid the shrapnel.
Ginny could feel Hermione stiffen and a chill came into her voice. "If I ever see your brother again it will be too soon, he and I are finished."
The red headed witch kept her head down but glanced furtively at her friend, "Hermione please don't be cross with me but I can see where he is coming from." she said expecting the eruption to follow, she wasn't disappointed.
"WHAT?" The blast of sound was probably heard all the way to Ottery St. Catchpole.
Ginny stuck to her guns. "Ron's scared, we all are, but Ron despite being put in Gryffindor, has a lot of inner fears. He has managed to conquer most of them, but the events of the last few weeks have tested his bravery to the limit and I think it pushed him over the edge." Ron's sister tried to find the words that would explain her brother's actions …there weren't many, but she ploughed on. "He has seen Bill injured, Dumbledore killed …that really got to him, and Snape run to the other side beating Harry in the process. Then he… well hooked up with you and it gave him something to hang onto, and he doesn't want to lose it. I think he just lost his head."
Hermione surprised herself by remaining calm. "And that gives him the excuse to treat Harry and me in that despicable way?"
'No Hermione, not an excuse," Ginny took a deep breath, "…just a reason."
"I don't know Ginny," said Hermione shaking her head, "I don't know if I will ever be able to forgive him, and if anything happens to Harry because of what he has done there won't be a hole big enough for him to hide in. He'll have both me and Voldemort after him, and he better pray that Voldemort is the one who finds him.'
'Well' Ginny thought 'if she can joke about it maybe all it not lost', she looked at Hermione and the expression on her face, she was joking, wasn't she?
"The most important thing now is to find Harry," Hermione said. "There aren't that many places he would run to, I will have to visit them all. I'll get him eventually."
"Where are you going to start?" Ginny asked.
"Not sure yet, I need to think about it." Hermione mused. She placed a hand on Ginny's shoulder and drew her into a hug. "Thanks Ginny, you've been a great help as usual. I'll get in touch when I find Harry." She looked back to the Burrow and a lone forlorn figure standing in the wreckage of his bedroom window. "I'll leave Ron to you."
Ginny giggled, "Don't worry Hermione, I'll sort out the idiot, you find the hero. You three have been through too much to let it all end this way. Give him my love when you find him …Good luck." With that Ginny turned briskly so that Hermione wouldn't see the tears which had suddenly sprung into her eyes and headed back to the house.
Hermione sat quietly for a while, she knew that Ginny would stop anyone disturbing her, and tried to think where Harry would have gone. In her mind she pictured all the places she and Harry had visited. All those which held happy memories had been tainted in some way and she knew Harry would avoid them. There were only two places which had never changed as far as Harry was concerned, one because he had never been there, and one because he had always hated it. So what was it to be, Godrics Hollow or Privet Drive?
* * *
Her decision made, with a CRACK Hermione apparated away from the Burrow. From his bedroom window, or what was left of it, Ron watched as her shadowy figure vanished. He heard someone walk into the room behind him and turned hoping it might just be Hermione, but it was his sister.
She pointed imperiously at the ruins of Harry's bed indicating for him to sit. "Ron, I think you and I need a very long talk."
Ron hung his head; he suddenly realised how very much like their mother his younger sister was, and he had a feeling that this was going to be very painful.
"Yes Ginny." he said meekly.
* * *
The house was in darkness, the whole area around it was quiet. The witch walked up to the front door drew her wand and muttered 'Alohomora', the lock gave a click and the door swung open. She stepped inside, careful not to make a sound, a quick check confirmed that the ground floor was unoccupied, so she turned back into the hall and headed for the stairs. She hoped none of them would squeak and give away her presence, she was lucky. She reached the landing and studied each of the doors in turn, and picking the one she knew concealed him, she walked towards it. Placing her hand on the door knob she slowly turned it and opened the door.
The room wasn't very large and had very little furniture, a bed, a desk with a chair and a wardrobe. In the dim light that filtered into the room from the street lamps outside she could see that the surface of the desk was marked with a ring that Hermione knew would match the bottom of Hedwig's old cage. She noticed that the back of the single chair and the front edge of the top of the wardrobe were gouged by the talons of the same snowy owl.
She turned her attention to the bed. Lying on it was a very familiar figure, he was still fully clothed, with his wand held loosely in his hand, and his mop of black hair was as usual, a mess. He was deeply asleep; the sleep of fear, of sadness, of exhaustion. The witch moved to the side of the bed and gently sat herself down on it; she stared at those features so etched in her mind. It seemed as if she had known him all her life, at least all of her life that mattered, but how well did she really know him, she smiled to herself, probably more than she would willingly care to admit. Even in sleep his brow was furrowed with worry, a brow that held a scar in the shape of a bolt of lightning. The action was automatic, Hermione reached out one tentative hand to him, and gently ran a finger down the mark that separated him out from every other wizard. Under her touch the figure on the bed stirred then started up as he realised there was someone in the room with him.
"It's OK, it's only me" she whispered to reassure him.
"Hermione, how …why …what …are you doing here?" His tone was disbelieving, frightened that someone was playing a cruel trick on him.
Then she answered and he knew it was really her. "I am here because you need me, and I am here because this is where I want to be." she said quietly, so as not to disturb the other occupants of the house.
"But the letter? ...Ron said…" but Hermione cut him off.
"The letter was rubbish Harry, you should have realised that." She admonished. "It was written by someone, who if I am not wrong realises now that it was a huge mistake. By someone, who by now is suffering the biggest bat bogey hex of all time, if I know his sister."
"But how did you find me?" Harry stared at his friend with amazement. "I thought this would be the last place anyone would look."
She laughed quietly "You're right, this would be the last place a wizard would look, remember they have no logic." Hermione fixed him with a steely gaze, "But I am me and you will not hide from me again Harry Potter."
In this room a young witch and a wizard were reunited, although really they had never been apart, for the binds which held them together were much stronger that even they knew. They held each other through the night, she happy that she had found him and he happy that he wasn't going to have to do all of this on his own after all.
Having told him of everything that had happened at the Burrow, from her reaction to reading the letter to the fact that Ginny sent him her love, Hermione eventually drifted off to sleep her head resting on Harry's shoulder. Harry felt her relax against him, but despite their relative positions, he knew that she wasn't his, from what she had said she wasn't anyone's. He didn't care right now, she was Hermione, and if that is all she ever remained then that was fine by him, all he knew was, was that he needed her and that she was here.
Sleep had now claimed them both and they would need all the rest they could get. They had Horcruxes to find and an evil wizard to kill, but they would not do it alone. It was a job that needed friends and allies for it to be successful, and they would find both before their journey was done.
* * *
In the main bedroom Petunia Dursley had woken with a start, the unwanted intrusion in her mind forcing her from her sleep, and she cursed her sister yet again. Landing her family with Harry was nothing compared to that silly prank so many years ago that had turned Petunia's world upside-down.
It had started, as usual, with an argument…. Since that dratted letter from that school she and Lily had been at each others throats, even the smallest disagreements turned into major rows, to the extent that their parents tried to keep them apart as much as possible. Petunia couldn't even remember now what the particular argument was about, but she well remembered how it had finished, that was the one thing she could never forget.
"Why should I care about your feelings? You are a freak, and that boyfriend of yours, Potter, he is a freak as well. FREAKS HAVE NO FEELINGS!" Petunia had yelled at Lily.
The auburn haired witch with the piercingly emerald green eyes considered her sister and exhibited an outward calmness that she didn't really feel inside. Then suddenly she smiled at Petunia in a way that made the older girl shudder and maybe wish she had kept her mouth shut.
"Perhaps you are right Petunia," Lily said sweetly, "perhaps we freaks have no feelings, no emotions, but I am sure that there are lots of people who do, and perhaps, just perhaps, if you could feel them too it might make you a better person."
Petunia gasped in horror as for the first and only time her sister raised her wand against her. Lily, the best witch in charms and transfiguration Hogwarts had seen for many a year, flicked said wand in a complicated pattern and chanted, "Animi motus capare totus." A pink cloud erupted from the wand to fall around Petunia, who in shock was rooted to the spot. An intense smell of honeysuckle filled the room and in Petunia's mind a window was opened and the rush of emotions that poured in on her drove her to her knees.
Lily had instantly vanished, and much of that instant flood of emotion vanished with her, but the effects of the spell didn't. Lily left her sister with a gift, a gift that allowed her to contemplate the worries and woes and the highs and lows of anyone who came close to her. From that day on Petunia could 'feel'. Not proper thoughts, just the vague outlines, and the emotions that drove people up and those that drove them down. Petunia had originally hoped the effect of the spell would be temporary, but Lily had cast well and time did not diminish the strength of the enchantment, and even Lily's death some years later gave her no release from the charm, or was it really a curse.
She had found protection from her ability by marrying Vernon, a man who was quick to rise, emotionally anyway, and whose blasts of anger and thinly disguised contempt for everything and everybody blotted out all other feelings. All… all except for those of her nephew Harry, and those she could never hide from. Now in the dead of night with Vernon and Dudley fast asleep she could feel Harry's emotions as clear as if he was back in the house and then she could discern a second set full of peace and caring tinged with worry for what was to come, and she realised that indeed these minds were within the walls of her home. For the first time Petunia used her gift properly and listened to the troubles of someone other than herself. She continued to listen as their emotions merged and then faded as sleep overtook them, and Petunia bit at her lip confused as to why she should be affected by the thoughts of those she had always considered abnormal, but somewhere deep down inside of her she found that it hurt. Perhaps this was Lily's retribution, reaching out from beyond the grave to remind her that others were important and that they mattered.
She reset her alarm clock, Vernon always slept through it anyway, she would get up early, to make sure they left no mess in her kitchen, at least that it was she told herself. They would certainly have to leave before Vernon woke or there would be hell to pay.
Petunia turned over and tried to get back to sleep and she knew that it would not come, once more she cursed her sister for what she had done to her, but with the remembered emotions of the youngsters in the smallest bedroom still circulating in her mind, the curse was not as harsh as usual.
* * *