Chapter 13:
***
Harry marched down Privet Drive, on a warpath. He was intent, hell bent, on confronting Petunia and Vernon.
His two body guards hobbled behind him, trying to keep up. Ironic, seeing as they had apparated him there. He ought to have been more accommodating to the cripples, but his raging emotions were getting the better of him, as they tended to do.
Here he had set out to become an independent adult. Only for that independence to be snatched from him, by having someone else emancipate him. He had planned to emancipate his own damn self!
There was also the small matter of how the two knew he was pursuing emancipation in the first place. He suspected a prank by Dumbledore. He hoped for a prank by Dumbledore, because if some other means of transmission got this information to the Dursleys then it was an unknown factor, and Harry had too many of those to worry about at the moment.
They arrived at Number Four and he stomped across the grass to the front door. He had intended to bang his fist on the door until somebody answered. Sadly, there was a paper sign taped onto the front door that took the wind right out of his sails.
‘Off to have dinner with Aberforth.’ It said.
“Who the heck us Aberforth?” Harry asked aloud.
“Kid. You better be joking.” Said Moody, panting from the unexpectedj og Harry had put him through.. “Please tell me you know who Abe is.”
Harry shrugged.
He was fairly certain he’d never even heard of somebody named Aberforth in his life. Save for the two famous Abrahams of history, Middle East and Far West varieties. But Aberforth? That couldn’t possibly be a real name.
“Another big wig I’m supposed to be brushing shoulders with as a celebrity?” He asked, not intending or expecting the words to come out so acerbically.
Both Alastor and Kingsley shook their heads in disappointment.
“You’re telling us you’ve never heard of Aberforth Dumbledore? Brother to the famous Albus Dumbledore?” Kingsley told him.
Dumbledore had a brother?! Wait. Why would the Dursleys be off to have dinner with him? This was seeming more and more like a prank by the headmaster. Ah. That meant the note was left there for him. Nobody else coming around to Numbe Four who would ever know who Aberforth was. Vernon and Petunia were telling him that they expected him.
“Where can we meet this man?” Harry asked.
“Same place you’ve met him before.” Said Alastor.
“I’ve met him?” Harry asked, suspicious.
“You’ve met him.” Alastor and Kingsley said as one.
Harry tried to think back on every positively ancient person he had ever met. None of them were named Aberforth. There was that excitable old man who had met him on the street and then in the leaky cauldron, but wasn’t his name Diddle or something like that?
Then a face swirled into his head. One he had seen that morning when meeting with a Goblin. One with a beard just as glorious, if a little less gray, as Professor Dumbledore’s. A face with a significantly less crooked noise, but just as sparkly eyes.
“No. You’re shitting me. That Abe?” Harry asked. “I guess we’re joining the Dursleys for dinner at the Hogs Head.”
Two meals at that poorly kept pub in one day could not be healthy.
He ripped the paper sign on the door and, pocketing it, held his hand out to Kingsley so they might side-along. They did so.
***
The Hogs Head was closed for a private event.
It had always been a running joke that the Hogs Head offered private wedding events and the like, but that it had never hosted one for lack of customers willing to pay for such. But there the sign sat on his door. Closed for a private event.
Harry pressed the paper he had ripped from the Dursley’s door onto the door to the Hogs Head. He was right in believing said piece of paper was his invitation, for the door glowed bright yellow and opened to permit him access.
“Happy emancipation!” The people already inside called out, some with less enthusiasm than others. Some with much more than was warranted.
Harry had expected Dumbledore and the Dursleys. Not the four of them, plus Remus, plus Padfoot, and the Weasleys. Well, most of the Weasleys anyways. Percy, Charlie and Bill didn’t seem to have gotten the invite. They were instead replaced by Hermione, Professor Snape and…
“Mrs Figg?” Harry asked, confused.
“Evening Harry. I’m glad to learn you remember me from my babysitting days. I’ve been busy with other wizarding children these last few years, and far rowdier ones than you ever were.” Mrs figg said.
Harry looked at Petunia.
“What? It’s not like any normal folk could safely babysit you. What if you had an accident?” Petunia asked.
“Wait, wait wait.” Harry said. “Mrs Figg is a witch, and she babysits wizard children, and everyone knew this except me?”
“I didn’t know that.” Dudley mumbled.
Hermione shrugged while the Weasley children nodded. Harry guessed many of them had been babysat by her too. He would have liked to have seen that.
Harry ignored his cousin in favor of his godfathers. Vernon, for his part, looked distinctly uncomfortable in his seat beside his wife as he walked past him. Ignoring Professor Snape, Harry advanced on his companion.
“Professor Lupin!” Harry said, hugging his favorite professor to date.
“It’s good to see you Harry.” Professor Lupin said mid hug. “And I brought Snuffles.”
‘Snuffles.’ then leapt up onto him to play at a loving dog greeting, which Harry played along with for show.
The party went on from there. Food, cake, gifts. It was all very unexpected.
The food and cake were great, but they were brought by Molly so they ought to be. That woman wouldn’t be caught dead letting Abe cook for her family. The gifts were decidedly odd. Arthur gave him the keys to the Ford Anglia; a gestural gift if ever their was one, as that metal beast was long destroyed by the forest at this point.
The other gifts were similarly symbolic. Professor Dumbledore gave him a graduation hat. Remus gave him a job application. A blank one, which Harry appreciated for the several layers of irony involved.
The party was short. Everyone gave their well wishes, enjoyed the meal, and left by early evening. All that remained was Harry, his two body guards, the Dursleys, the last of the Marauders and the Dumbledores.
As the last of the Weasleys left Aberforth locked the door behind them.
Sirius then gave Harry a heart attack by transforming back into his normal self, healthier, better washed and dressed than he’d ever seen him. But still exposed.
“Relax Harry. Vernon and I knew about Siri’s ability to turn into a mutt since before you were born.” Petunia told him. “I understand it would have saved you all a lot of toruble last year if you’d come to us with concerns about him.”
Harry blinked at the couple. Seemed like a bit of a security risk to Harry. He glanced at Kingsley and Moody. Both of them nodded to Dumbledore.
Right. They weren’t Aurors anymore.
“Why did you not come forward during the television broadcast?” Harry asked.
“Oh, we thought it was a prank.” Said Vernon. “That he was screwing with us by using magic to mess with our telvision.”
“Honestly! Sirius Black? A mass murderer?” Petunia said. “Preposterous!”
Sirius looked at her questioningly.
“After all the damage James and I did in our youth you can’t see me being a murderer?” Sirius asked, sounding oddly hurt.
“Damage?” Harry asked.
“Eh, there was a summer there where James went all stalker on Lily.” Remus told him.
“Flowers and gifts appearing in places he couldn’t possibly have gotten to.” Petunia said. “Breaking and entering to do so. He thought that our dad wasn’t a threat because he was a Muggle, but he was still an officer of the law and a damned good one.”
Harry took a seat, finding it difficult to stand as he listened to all of this history he’d never know.
“We still don’t know how he caught us half the time.” Sirius said. “Sometimes while we were just out and about at night preparing for no good.”
Harry wanted to hear the gory details about all of these things. Petunia never talked much about her parents growing up and he suddenly felt a deep hunger to learn all he could about his grandparents. Along with his father’s shenanigans. But that would have to wait.
“I appreciate the party and farewell, but why were you so willing to sign my emancipation papers?” harry asked, glancing at Sirius. “I know he didn’t threaten you.”
“Not that it would have done him any good.” Said Vernon. “The charade of pretending to be afraid of him last summer was funnier for us than it was you.”
Harry had made the mistake of taking a drink as Vernon talked and choked on it in half laughter at this revelation. There were a lot of those today.
“Then why?” He managed to choke out.
Vernon dug into the inside of his goat and pulled out of stack of papers. He then handed the stack t Harry. It was photographs and descriptions of his exploits since entering the wizarding world, and they were portrayed in grisly detail. One of the photos was particularly surprising to Harry.
“When did you get a camera down to the chamber of secrets?” Harry asked.
“I had Fawks take me there.” Said Professor Dumbledore. “The same night that you killed it.”
“You really killed that thing?” Asked Vernon.
Harry nodded.
“And this dragon here.” He explained, picking out the newspaper with the front page of him standing over its corpse. Noxious vapor still pouring out of its mouth.
Vernon nodded sternly, but without a shred of authority.
“Is that why you decided to help with my emancipation?” Harry asked.
“It was definitely a deciding factor.” Said Petunia. “If you’re old enough to kill dragons and basawhatsit, then you’re old enough to live on your own.”
Funny way of saying they didn’t want somebody so dangerous living under their roof. He was suddenly possessed of the notion that he could have been emancipated over a year earlier if he had shown them the basilisk incident sooner.
“So. What do you want.” Petunia asked.
Harry raised an eyebrow at the woman. He honestly had no idea what she meant by that.
“You’ve already given me what I wanted. My emancipation. Although I’m not happy with the way I got it.” Harry told her.
“That’s not what they’re asking Harry.” Dudley said, feat in his voice. “We are offering repirations. What. Do we have to give you. So that you never come after us.”
That rephrasing of the question gave Harry actual whiplash.
Come after them? Harry hadn’t even gone after Voldemort, or Wormtail. Hell, the one time he’d well and truly wanted revenge was against Sirius Black, and even then he hadn’t sought the supposed traitor to his parents out. He had hoped Sirius would come ot him, and even when confronted with the man he thought a mass murderer he couldn’t kill him.
Thank god for his innocence then. The question was, could he now? After killing a dragon, a Death Cultust and a Death Eater he suspected he could. And that wasn’t a good thing.
They were right to be afraid. And they were right that if they paid restitution, in some way, he would be able to let it go. It needed to be something that would benefit him, and be painful for them. He knew that. And he knew just the thing.
“Is number four paid off?” He asked.
“Has been for years. It’s yours if you demand it.” Said Vernon.
“I do demand it.” Harry said.
“Then it’s yours.” Said Petunia. “We are preparing to move out anyways. Albus has agreed to help us relocate and forge new identities.”
Dudley glanced between Harry and his parents.
“I wouldn’t think you’d want to go back there, let alone own the house.” He admitted.
“I don’t, and I won’t. I need it for different purposes.” Harry said.
He glanced at his headmaster.
“Why are you helping them relocate?” He asked. “Do you think Voldemort will come after them?”
“I do.” Said Professor Dumbledore. “He will, wrongly I think, believe that you are close to them and that they would be a chink in your armor. Many other enemies of his were destroyed through familial relations. He will come for them.”
Harry nodded.
“In that case I will also want your hair.” Harry told them.
Petunia and Vernon shared a glance, while Albus and Alastor both shared a knowing glance of their own. It was funny watching Sirius and Remus do the same, and even funnier seeing Snape hide a smirk.
“Our hair?” They asked in stereo.
“Yup. Yours and Dudley’s.” Harry said
“Like, all of it in a bag?” Dudley asked.
“Each separated and in their own bags.” Harry corrected.
Laying a potential trap at number four was his initial goal. Although prior to this conversation, it was meant to be a trap for those death cultists after him. Now it could serve for both them and Voldemort, whenever he finally showed up.
That it was also a bit humiliating for the Dursleys was the cherry on top.
“Is there anything else?” Petunia asked.
Harry wanted to say “an apology would be nice.” but he realized he didn’t want one. Nor a hundred of them. Nor a thousand of them. There really was only one thing they could give him.
“I want you to disappear, and never come back. Never, ever, enter my presence again. Nor contact me, nor anybody I know. Begone from here, I never knew you.” Harry said.
They did not nod. They did not verbally agree. They did not acknowledge him.
They stood up and, as one, walked to the door to exit the establishment.
He never saw them again.
***
Severus tried to enjoy the walk back to Hogwarts. It was near sundown and the air was crisp. Cold without wind. Current company was, admittedly, not the worst.
Albus had stayed back with his brother for some catching up while Remus and Sirius let for whatever mission Albus had set for them. This left Severus with Potter and his bodyguards as company.
“You were oddly silent during the entirety of the party.” Harry said.
“I am characteristically quiet during celebrations. I am well known for my nature as a wallflower.” Severus deflected.
“Then why did you come.” Harry asked, suspiciously.
He sighed. He had really hoped he could get away with not having to tell the boy all of this, but now was a good time to do so.
“Because I orchestrated your emancipation behind your back, convincing the Dursleys to go through with it.” He confessed.
Potter looked at him skeptically.
“Why would you do that?” He asked.
Severus didn’t mean to snap the next words out, but he did. It was the only way to get them out.
“Because I owe so much to both your mother and father.” Severus finally confessed. “One was the best friend I ever had, the other was the best rival I could have ever hoped for. Together they made me a far better man than I ever had the right to be. I loved one enough to watch over you all these years, and owed a life dept to another so powerful that it will never let me forget this responsibility to you. Or did you think I keep saving your life for the sport of it?”
They walked in silence together after that. The thousand yard stare on Potter’s face amused him greatly, and took the bite out of the painful moment they’d just shared. Neither Kingsley nor Alastor broke the silence. No doubt his confession was surprising to them as well.
The castle was within view when Potter finally spoke up.
“I never did thank you for saving me in that quidditch match, did I?” He asked.
“No. You didn’t.” Severus drolled in that way he did.
“Or for that first Halloween. When you got mauled by Fluffy.” Harry said.
“Oh, it wasn’t fluffy that did that to me. Fluffy is sweet on me. But no, you didn’t.” Snape said.
Potter looked at him queerly.
“Then what…”
“I don’t know what it was that the Dark Lord summoned that night to help him get past Fluffy, but it had teeth and I struggled to heal it.” Severus confessed.
He hadn’t even gotten a good look at it, but he suspected it was Voldemort himself reduced to some inhuman form from experimenting with unicorn blood. He’d seen some freaky things in his days, but that had taken the cake.
“Well then. I guess it’s high time I…”
The boy stopped mid sentence as the legendary scar on his forehead exploded. Actualyl exploded, like an over-sized pustule full of blood, spraying Severus’ face with the red liquid. He then fell to the ground screaming. It was the kind of scream that could not be faked, one of true, continuous pain. As if seeing the physical injury hadn’t been proof enough to Severus that this was genuine.
A second later, Severus was brought to the ground too as his arm betrayed him.
The dark mark! He pulled up his sleeve and stared in horror. It was rotting into his arm, trying to kill him. Only the Dark Lord could do that, and only very deliberately. It looked like Severus was no longer a Death Eater.
All of this went through his head as held the tip of his wand to his elbow.
“Sectumsempra!” He called out.
And like that, he joined Alastor and Kingsley in missing a limb.
He applied the counter-curse to stem the bleeding but knew he would be spending the night with Madame Pomphrey and Potter.
Speaking of Potter, Kingsley and Alastor were bent over him trying to help, only for him to leap right back up to his feet like getting up from a Quidditch injury. He breathed out a forceful breath as if getting his adrenaline back down.
“So Anyways. Voldemort’s back.” Harry announced in lieu of telling everyone he was fine.
“In… indeed.” Severus managed to ground out before collapsing, barely conscious.
“Huh.” He heard Potter say dispassionately, “The hell happened to him?”
He then passed out.