It had been many years since Harry had last set foot in the house he grew up in. Over the years, the once pristine surroundings of Number Four Pivet Drive had deteriorated into such a deplorable condition, that it was difficult to imagine the quiet street with the well watered and cared for lawns and the impeccable houses.
But he was standing here in front of the familiar house looking at the place he never thought he would see again. But a letter from his cousin Dudley had told him that his last remaining blood connection to his mother was breathing her last and had requested to see Harry. Despite the burning desire to turn on his heel and run, Harry squared his shoulder and made his way up the pathway to this home where above all else his mother's blood still lies. It had been years since Uncle Vernon had died, Harry knew but as he rang the doorbell he half expected the surly, bulky man to lumber to the door with a greeting of "What the ruddy hell are you doing here boy?". Instead it was a short, friendly looking middle aged woman who answered the door.
Nervously, Harry identified himself and a light of knowledge slipped onto the nurse's face and she beckoned Harry into the hallway. Harry felt as though he had used a time turner and he was now standing in the house of his childhood. It was as though time had stood still in the house, with its surfaces impeccable and clean, just as Aunt Petunia always had them. The nurse made her way up the stairs which creaked a little as Harry too followed. He was escorted to Uncle Vernon's and Aunt Petunia's bedroom, which now had Aunt Petunia laying frail and fragile on the same large bed that Harry had known.
Her features suffered the result of age. It was wrinkled and in no way bore the resemblance of Aunt Petunia that he had known. Gingerly he stepped into the room, and as he did so the nurse ushered him towards the bed. She then left the room quickly giving the old woman her moment with nephew. Harry wished that she hadn't done that and he turned his head just as the kindly nurse closed the door with a knowing smile. His gaze then reverted back to the bed where his aunt was now resolutely staring at him with a look of, if Harry was not mistaken, remorse.
"Er… Hello Aunt Petunia" Harry said somewhat awkwardly as his voice came out in a whisper.
"Harry, how are you? The years have not been kind to me, but I'm am glad that you came on the bequest of a dying woman. I know that you owe me nothing and I know that I neither deserve your kindness nor love but am glad that you showed your mother's heart and came to see me."
Harry stood there not knowing what to say, as he stared with pity at the woman who had despised him. However he could not tear his eyes away from the pleading look in his Aunt's face. He stared into her eyes as she continued to speak with a laboured breath as though the words themselves were draining her of strength.
"I know that I should not expect forgiveness after all these years, but I have called you here today Harry, to beg for it. To beg forgiveness from my sister's son. I had been unkind to you as a child. I neglected you and hated you because you represented that which I could never have, that special place in my sister's life. You don't know what it was like Harry, to idolilze a sibling so much, that to be so different from her was heartbreaking. I wanted her life Harry, I wanted her brain and her grace but I would always fall short and soon realized that if I could never be like her, I would hate her. It was a conscious choice, I am not proud of it, but I had resolved to hate her, even when she had done me no wrong, when she had in fact loved me beyond measure. I hated her magic and her abilities and when she had you, I hated her son. It is this hatred that consumed me for years, and when I was asked to take you Harry, to protect you, I did it begrudgingly, because I felt that I had to, that I was forced to in fact, by the blood we shared. But as you grew Harry, I was never able to rid myself of the guilt I felt, that intensified as I stared into my sister's eyes, your eyes."
At this point Aunt Petunia broke out into a fit of coughing and Harry rose to offer her some water. Noticing the glass was empty he automatically, without a thought he pulled his wand from the inside pocket of the jacket that he wore and muttered the incantation, "Aguamenti", and the glass filled with clear, pure water. Aunt Petunia, through her haze and coughing noticed the act, and flinched slightly, not from the fact that magic was being performed in this house, but by the kindness that Harry had bestowed upon this old woman, who deserved none of it. The guilt in her heart increased as she drank from the glass that Harry gently held to her lips.
Harry meanwhile, was feeling a sense of wonderment at the conversation that he was having. Never would he have thought that his Aunt had possessed the capability of this emotion for him. In all his life he always remembered the contempt this woman held for him and now she lay here, old and broken begging for forgiveness from him.
After a few minutes of silence, Aunt Petunia continued, " That day Harry, so many years ago, when we last parted, I ached to tell you this, but I was too proud. I ached to tell you that you were not at fault for our treatment of you. I ached to hug you, a reminder of my sister, but most of all I ached to tell you to remain safe on the journey I knew you had to face. I had known for many years, that the day would come when you would avenge your parents Harry and I wished you safety. I was too ashamed , too proud, too consumed in myself to tell you this at the time, but now I have finally said it, many years too late I know. But despite all of that Harry, I am glad and happy to know, that you have had a good life, a happy life and safe life. All the things that I could never have given you Harry, I am glad that you found it in the end. And lastly Harry, I want to tell you, clichd as it may sound, but I love you my son."
With tears in his eyes, Harry stared at his aunt, dumfounded. He could not summon the words to his mouth. He felt as though a Tongue Binding Curse had been placed on him, he felt touched and happy to hear these words that he never knew he wanted to here from this broken woman. But even then, he knew that it was too late for amends. He knew and so did she. Rising from his chair, Harry gingerly made his way to his aunt's bed and slowly bent and kissed her wrinkled forehead.
"There is nothing to forgive after all these years, Aunt Petunia. You should rest now." Harry said these words in a whisper in his aunt's ear and then he turned and left the room without a second look.
He learned later that she had died two days after his visit, peacefully in her sleep. And when he heard the news, Harry felt a twinge in his heart, whether it was for the loss of the final connection to his mother, or for the mother his aunt had finally become for him, he would never know.
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