Learning to Be
Viopathartic
A/N: Hey all!
This chapter will be more of an "in-between" chapter. About 7 pages, so I hope it's long enough for you.
I just want to take a moment to talk about Hopeless, my other fic. I've been getting flames, but I'm not upset about them…more like angry. The flamers have the nerve to verbally abuse me when I haven't even begun the story. I've only written 2 chapters! I know my story is different because of the H/R content in there. But there are others who have H/R in their fanfiction. The flamers complain about "the dirty red shithead's baby" in my story, but they fail to remember that there are others with Ron and Hermione's children. Coriander, for example, wrote a piece about the Weasley children. Harry's Mistress has written Love Lost. Love Found.
Flamers, have sense before flaming my stories. Just because I don't answer you guys back doesn't mean that I believe you're right. You're just not worthy of being answered.
For those who are enjoying both Hopeless and Learning to Be, I'm extremely pleased and hope that you keep reading my works.
Harry rolled over on his bed after waking up from what seemed like a week of rest. He sighed deeply; his bed had never felt so good. In his state of peace, he spread his arms out and expected to work out a few kinks in his body. But when his left hand hit something solid, Harry's mind froze.
Solid and warm...that could only mean one thing.
His eyes shot open.
He stayed there for a minute or two on his back.
Do not panic.
Instead, his mind worked up a whirl. Last night, he, Hermione, and Ron went out to a restaurant/club. They ate and drank there and then...
Did I drink too much?
"Oh Merlin," he whispered, eyes glued onto the ceiling. He had heard of situations like this--something called the 'morning after'. It usually involved massive hangovers and bed mistakes.
The sight that greeted him was most unexpected. Next to Harry, in his bed, was Ron.
Harry swiftly removed his hand from Ron's face and quickly leapt out of bed.
The redhead grown man was wearing last night's clothes (as was Harry) and was snoring (nothing new) as he lay on his stomach. Harry was disgusted to see his friend drooling a bit.
And he was suddenly afraid again. What had they done last night?
They had gone home from the club, he remembered. Then they...
Harry ran a hand through his hair and nervously ruffled it. No matter what he did, he still could not remember. Perhaps they had a few drinks after arriving home. And...
"Hey."
He turned and saw Hermione standing at the doorway. She apparently just finished showering because her hair was still wet and she had on a pair of sweats and a baby blue tank top. She held two cups of steaming coffee in her hands.
Shite. What will Hermione think?
Hermione must have seen his horror stricken face because she entered the room, put the mugs done onto the nightstand and asked what was wrong.
Harry, almost embarrassed by what she was walking into, pointed to his friend--male friend--on his bed.
"Ron?"
"So...?"
He gestured wordlessly to Ron who was still knocked out.
"What--"
Harry gestured again.
Hermione's eyes widened and she would have laughed if she wasn't covering her mouth. "You woke up and thought that you and Ron...and--" She couldn't finish because her laughing disenabled her to speak.
"How would that be possible anyways?"
Harry raised an eyebrow in way that said 'Oh, innocent Hermione. There is a way'. Hermione flushed.
She mumbled, "Honestly, the three of us just fell asleep on your bed."
Her friend reacted to this. "Three...of us?"
"And nothing happened!" Hermione sharply exclaimed, shaking a finger at him.
When he took the time to actually think (something he had not done first because he was just too disturbed), Harry realized that Hermione was right. After they got tired of dancing at the club, the Trio headed back to their house. They spent the remainder of their time in Harry's room, reminiscing and laughing.
"Oh!"
Hermione huffed and stood up from the bed. "'Oh' is right. Do you think I would actually let you go anywhere else when you're drunk? Oh no, you're not going to make another mistake as long as I'm around."
"Another?" Harry said incredulously, "ANOTHER? What do you mean by that?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Nevermind. Now wake Ron up. I'm cooking some breakfast."
"Sausages?" he asked hopefully.
His friend's face relaxed and a soft smile formed. She stopped at the doorway and leaned her body against the frame. "Only for you."
Harry grinned happily and watched as she turned and walked down the stairs. Not only was Hermione good at Potions, but she happened to make breakfasts that were worthy of comparisons to Molly Weasley's cooking. Harry suspected that was partly why Ron took an interest in her...
Speaking of which...
Harry turned on his spot, eyes falling on Ron's prone form. He eyed his wand which was on the nightstand and instantly smirked.
What a morning Ronald Weasley will have.
"Dudley!" Petunia Dursley shrieked after opening the door to find her young son and his wife on her doorstep. Behind them was their daughter. "And little Mary!"
Dudley felt Ally flinching from his mum's voice but smiled and accepted Petunia's hug.
"Hello, Mrs. Dursley," greeted Ally politely. Petunia pursed her lip and nodded stiffly. The two were never close acquaintances.
She turned to her son again and smiled. "And where is my Mary?"
Mary gripped the back of her mother's knees a bit tighter. Dudley had to pull his daughter away. "She's still shy," he lied.
Mary was never shy.
Petunia quickly brought the little girl into her arms, looking as if she was squeezing the life out of her. "Oh, I've missed you, Mary." It was stunning how much strength the bony woman had.
"You...too, Grammy," said Mary's muffled voice.
After Petunia urged the three into her home (and they stepped in and immediately suffocated from the strong disinfectant smell that lingered in the corridors), they sat down in the living room. The hostess patted a spot next to her on the couch, meaning for Mary to take the seat. Instead, the little girl pretended to not see and squished herself between her parents.
"Just…decided to drop in," Dudley answered absentmindedly. "Where's Dad?"
Petunia waved a hand. "Out with some of his co-workers. It's a shame that he won't be able to see you-that is, unless you would like to stay for dinner...?"
She let the question hang and looked expectedly at her son. However, Mary tugged at her father's sleeve in a discreet manner.
"Uh...no, we have a friend's house to attend."
"Oh." His mother sounded devastated. "Then why are you three here?"
"Do you know how I can talk to Harry?" His straightforward request not only startled his mum but also Dudley. He didn't expect to get it out that quickly.
Petunia dropped her tea cup onto the living room floor, but she paid no attention to the spill, an uncharacteristic thing to do if you were Petunia Dursley.
"Why would you want to talk to him?"
"I've been thinking about him lately and was wondering if he was okay. I haven't seem him since he left for the War--"
Petunia shot a furtive look towards Ally.
"She knows, mum," Dudley said. "Anyways, I also want to talk about Mary with him."
"Mary? What does she--"
The bony woman stopped midsentence and focused wide eyes on the four year old girl as if she was seeing her for the very first time.
"Is she--"
"Yeah," Dudley answered quickly. His daughter was a witch; he was sure of it. But he didn't have the heart to tell her yet. He wasn't the one who should do it.
"How do you know?"
"Well, Harry was about the same age when he--wasn't he?"
Mary glanced at her father, but he ignored her for the moment.
"And you're not...scared, Dudley?"
"No," both Dudley and Ally answered succinctly. Petunia looked at the two as if they were crazy.
"But Dudders, you used to afraid of--"
"I'm NOT anymore," he interrupted sharply. "Mary's my daughter. Even though she's like Harry, I love her. But I never really hated Harry. You did. Both you and Dad."
"Now, Dudley--"
"No, Mum. As I've said, I've been thinking. About my childhood and how you and Dad always gave me what I wanted. Were you afraid that I would hate you or something if you did not?"
Petunia opened her mouth to speak but Dudley cut through. "I don't know. Maybe you did. But I can't tell you how much it hurt me. I now understand what that Professor had said before taking Harry.
His mum's eyes expanded a bit; she remembered too.
"Why didn't you like Harry? Why didn't you love him like me?"
"I-I didn't know that you felt like this, Dudley," Petunia answered shakily. "I don't expect you to understand but…I guess… I didn't love him like you because he was my sister's son."
"So you didn't love your sister either?" Ally asked, horrified by the mere thought. Her husband was just about to ask the same. Instead of scowling at her, Petunia bit her tongue and explained.
"I used to love my sister. Lily was my best friend when we were younger. We did almost everything together. Except for our appearances, we could have been twins. I admired her for her spirit, intelligence and kindness and always wanted to stay with her. Then she received her letter from Hogwarts. Naturally, I thought that I would follow her. But the letter never came for me," Petunia said. "I was heartbroken. I even went so far as to write to the Headmaster, pleading him to let me go to Hogwarts. They didn't let me be with Lily."
"Our relationship was strained after that. I learned about calculus, biology, and literature; Lily learned about goblins, potions, and spells. I learned to hate both her and Hogwarts. Eventually, that spread to every witch and wizard that existed. We only saw each other during the holidays and summers. It was as if...we weren't sisters anymore," she finished softly.
"I think I understand why you and your sister never got along, but Harry..."
Petunia held a hand up to Ally. "Let me finish."
Instead of being offended, the younger woman nodded and let her in-law speak.
"We went our separate ways when we graduated our respective schools. I only visited my parents when Lily was not visiting them and vice versa. Of course, Lily, being the forgiving one, sent me invitations to her wedding and later on, she informed me that she gave birth to a son. Harry. I was foolish, I know that now. I ignored her effort to rekindle. By then, I met your father and had you."
"There came a time when I started to...miss Lily. She was my sister but I never talked to her. Why would anyone want a relationship like that? So, I prepared myself to visit," the older woman said. She then took a deep breath, as if letting out the sorrow that came with the story. "Then, I found out that Lily and her husband, James, had died. And Harry survived. He was put on the very doorstep that you were on today."
"He was the only one to survive. Dumbledore told me that Lily and James were two of the most talented witch and wizards. In yet, Harry, a baby, had defeated the darkest sorcerer in wizarding world. I couldn't understand that. I just couldn't. I think I blamed him...for surviving that attack that took away my sister. Why hadn't Lily survived? My thoughts were not logical, I realize now." Petunia laughed bitterly, wiping a lone tear that crawled down her cheeks.
Dudley and Ally watched, fascinated by the story and how much it brought out of Mrs. Dursley. Mary didn't understand a lot of words but was smart enough to know that this was not a fun occasion. Even so, she still daydreamed and was absent from half of the conversation.
"When I told Vernon, your father, he reminded me of what I had become. He hated anything odd and Harry...well, he was an odd one. I don't blame your father for my actions, but I have say that he had played a part as well. I used to feel that your father might disapprove if I didn't treat Harry less than I treated you. You always needed to be first."
Petunia played with her napkin, twisting it until it became shredded. She bit her lip before pleadingly saying, "I know that I wasn't right in my ways, but I couldn't love him like I loved you…now, I wish I could have taken better care of him…"
"I don't want to be like Dad. I want to be with Mary every step of the way," said Dudley. He looked downwards at Mary who was humming quietly under her breath.
Ally reached over Mary and squeezed his hand. Her husband smiled in return, grateful for her support. Petunia watched the scene with eyes that were surprised and even a bit envious. Perhaps she wished that her husband had been just as supportive and accepting as Ally.
Dudley cleared his throat before continuing, "You know more about Harry's world than you let on. So, please..."
There was a fraction of hesitation, but Petunia nodded.
"I can't believe you thought that!" Ron bellowed as he cast his best mate an incredulous look.
Ron had woken up before Harry could do any harm. The three were currently downstairs in the kitchen and Hermione had just finished telling their third friend of their other friend's mistaken revelation in the early morning.
Harry held up his hands as if surrendering. He cast Hermione a glare to which she countered by sticking out her tongue. "I was in a state of panic, mate." As his answer could defend him....
"That I--and you--and Merlin, that's just sick!"
"Alright. Enough, boys," Hermione joined the two and sat across from Ron at the breakfast table. Her seat was next to Harry. She set down her cup of coffee (her second, Harry believed) and neatly placed her napkin on her lap.
The three of them soon settled and silence came naturally as they ate. Ron would occasionally talk ("Pass me the salt, Hermione…no, that one over there) while Hermione would click at him for his bad manners. Harry would sit there and roll his eyes. It was a regular routine for them.
It was only until Hermione spoke that the topic focus switched to something other than breakfast. "Tam 's at the window, Harry." Harry received Tamera as a gift after the war. She looked eerily like Hedwig, who died in the beginning of seventh year, and even bonded with him like Hedwig had.
"Howler, I bet," whispered Ron with his mouth near the rim of his mug. He had also found out about his little sister and Harry's panicked escape. Hermione nudged him sharply with her foot, nearly making him spill his drink. Ron scowled.
"I wouldn't say you're wrong," his other friend mumbled as he reluctantly stood from his seat.
Harry gently took the white envelope from Tam ("Hoot!" and he sighed-red would have meant it was a howler) and eagerly opened it.
"Hey, it's from Remus."
"Hmm," said Hermione, "I wonder why he's owling." She waited as her friend anxiously unrolled the parchment. Ron stopped eating and watched as Harry's eyes moved from left to right, drinking each and every word that was written.
"That's odd," Harry mumbled before throwing the parchment onto the counter. Ron reached for it.
"What?" Hermione asked since she couldn't read the letter.
"Remus is coming by the house at two. He wants us to meet someone."