The next week at Number Four Privet Drive past quietly and peacefully. Marge and Dudley hadn’t been back, although Dumbledore had gotten word that Uncle Vernon was out of danger. He had a long recovery ahead of him, but they were sure he would pull through. Aunt Petunia was not much different than she was. The doctors were trying different medicines to help her. None of them yet were helping.
Harry recovery, with the help of daily potions, was very speedy. One week after the doctor’s row with Dumbledore, Harry was released from his care. Fifteen minutes after the release papers were signed, Harry took the Skelegrow potion. It wasn’t as unpleasant has it had been before. He only had part of one bone to regrow. The whole thing was done in a matter of hours.
Harry rested a lot during the week. It was really forced rest. In order to assure that Voldemort couldn’t penetrate his mind, Dumbledore had insisted that Harry take Dreamless Sleep Potion whenever he felt sleepy. This meant that Harry spend half of the week in dreamless sleep.
The rest of the time he spent with Hermione and Ron. Ron’s knock on the head had healed nicely and the three friends hung out as did at school. Per Harry’s request, Hermione had brought Ron up to speed on the contents of the prophesy. Harry was planning on having a discussion with them about it again, but he hadn’t yet felt up to it. The doctor had apparently made a point with Dumbledore because no one had brought up any emotionally trying topics since.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione talked about classes, Quidditch, and the house where they were all going to stay. Ron and Hermione carefully avoided any topics that would cause Harry any kind of distress. Harry didn’t mind. His waking hours that weren’t spent with his friends were spent dwelling on his new life. His life where Sirius was dead, and he was going to have to kill Voldemort or Voldemort was going to kill him. It wasn’t encouraging, and he preferred to pretend that nothing had happened.
Ron and Hermione had been affected by the events of the end of last term, but not to the extent that Harry was. They knew that he was changed by it, but Harry didn’t think they knew how much he had changed. He felt like that old Harry they knew was completely gone. He was bound in walls of grief and mourning and he couldn’t express it to his friends. He could hardly bear to feel it himself.
The third week of break started and Harry’s body was nearly recovered. He still limped from time to time when he got tired and his side still ached every so often, but with the continuing help of the potions, he did feel a lot better. The trouble was, the better he felt physically, the worse he felt inside. His one bright spot was that he would soon be moved to a house in the country. This was something to look forward too, even if his relatives weren’t at Privet Drive, it still felt like a prison.
Lupin had been in touch almost every day. He and Harry were having late night chats. Lupin would bring Harry up to speed on the Ministry efforts to contain Voldemort, and Harry would ask Lupin endless questions about his parents. The one thing that Lupin confession about his love for Harry’s mother brought out was that Harry really did not know his parents. He really had no idea what kind of people they were. He didn’t know those mundane details of their lives, like what they liked to do on Saturday nights, or whether or not they got along with Harry’s grandparents. He knew this type information about the Dursleys, he even had a good idea about the Weasleys and Grangers from the time that he spent with them. But Harry had no idea about his own parents.
Snape’s confession also hit home. Harry realized that he knew almost nothing about his father’s entire family. He had assumed that they all were dead, because as soon as he found out he was a wizard, he assumed that if he had any living relatives that he would have lived with them. Snape’s information brought out another dimension. He did have relatives, one at least, but the relationship with his father was so bad that Snape hated Harry on principle.
Harry decided that he needed to learn as much about his family as possible, and Lupin was the only one who seemed to know anything, or was willing to share. The problem was that Lupin’s information was limited. He only really knew James, not Harry’s grandparents or extended family. As Lupin pointed out, even good people don’t usually want a werewolf over as a house guest.
Hermione had agreed to help research his parents, but she said that over the summer she didn’t really have anyway to access information. She thought, back at school, she might have a chance at finding something, but it was still remote.
One night, during their evening chat, Lupin said to Harry, “I think we’ll be able to move to the summer house tomorrow.”
“Really?” Harry asked his eyes perking up.
“Yes,” Lupin said offhand, “I think that Bill has finished all the charms now. We also have to consider your relatives. Dumbledore said today that your Aunt is responding really well to the new medicine and she should be able to come home in the next couple of days.”
“What about my uncle?”
“I think he’s going to stay at the hospital he’s at for another couple of weeks. Then he’ll be sent back here for rehabilitation.”
“Since my Aunt Petunia is back, will the Grangers still be my guardians or will it go back to her?”
“For the time being, the Grangers will be your guardians. That doctor of yours saw to that. He told your case worker about all the scars on your body; that coupled with the neglect reports from your grammar school teachers was enough for your social worker to decide for you to stay with the Grangers until such time as your aunt wishes to have you back. She’ll have to petition the case worker for return of custody. And just because your aunt is coming home, does not mean she’s well. It will be a long time before she’s really in her head again.”
Harry sighed, “I hope the Grangers know that I’m going to be staying with them for a long time. My aunt never wanted me to begin with, and she certainly won’t want me to come back, now or ever, especially if she has to go out of her way for it to happen.”
Lupin sighed too, “I’m sorry, Harry. The Grangers do know that you will most likely being their ward until you turn seventeen. They knew that going in. But you never know, maybe your aunt and uncle will come around. Your aunt seemed like she cared when you were bleeding to death on her driveway.”
Harry snorted, “Maybe, but they almost chucked me out last year after the whole Dementor thing.”
Lupin looked uncomfortable again, “I’m sorry Harry. I really am. Like I’ve been telling you, it’s really a shame that you didn’t know your parents.”
Harry fell into silence. It was shame that he didn’t know his parents, or his grandparents. But he didn’t know what to say.
Lupin finally broke the silence by changing the topic, “We’ll be leaving around 7:00 pm tomorrow evening to head to the summer house. Pack up everything; I doubt that you’ll be coming back here for the rest of the summer.”
“How are we getting there?” Harry asked.
“I’m not exactly sure, but I think you and the Grangers are going by car. Some of your guard will accompany you, some will Apparate there early and some will wait until you’ve left and come after a few days. You may be going by Portkey, but I doubt it. I think that Dumbledore wants to keep the Ministry out of it as much as possible. He wants as few people as possible knowing that you’re leaving Privet Drive. Both he and Madam Bones are afraid that spies have already infiltrated the highest ranks of the Ministry.”
“Already? Voldemort already has spies in the Ministry?” Harry asked exasperated.
“Already, Harry. He’s had a year to work with no resistance. You can get a lot done in a year, trust me. Besides, the Ministry hired known Death Eaters years ago, like McNair, in the Disposal of Magical Creatures Office.”
“Isn’t it the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures?” Harry asked confused.
“Well, that’s what it’s supposed to be. It ends up being the Disposal of Magical Creatures, with a Death Eater as head executioner. McNair is only one example, I’m sure there were hundreds of Voldemort supporters who got away, and found respectable jobs in the Ministry. After fifteen years, they could be in any department at any level. Madam Bones isn’t convinced that Cornelius Fudge didn’t have connections to Voldemort somehow.”
Harry sighed, “It’s really hard to fight an enemy with so many unknown people. At least when you’re playing Quidditch you can see what you’re up against.”
“Yes, but this is a war Harry. There are no rules, and in the end, no winners.”
“What do you mean no winners? Someone will win in the end, either us or Voldemort.”
“No, if we win, we’ll still be losers.” Lupin looked pained and explained, “How many lives will be lost, how many people will be injured, how many people will have witnessed horrors beyond their worse nightmares? It won’t be good. But on the other hand, if Voldemort wins and takes over the Wizarding world, it will be much, much worse. Then there will be no hope for anybody, Wizard or Muggle. So that’s why we fight. That’s why your parents fought; they wanted a life for you. But anyway, we can’t dwell on that and you need to get some sleep, be ready to leave by seven tomorrow evening. Don’t forget to take your dreamless sleep potion.”
Harry nodded, and said, “Good Night, Professor Lupin.”
“Good night, Harry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Harry was awoken the next morning by an extremely excited Hermione. “Did you know that we’re leaving today?” she asked as she opened the window, letting in the bright July sun. “Come on, get up, there is a lot to do before we go.”
Harry winced against the light and said, “What do we need to do? I can pack in a half an hour.” Harry sat up and looked at his over eager friend.
“Well, we do need to put the house back in order, and I’ll need your help to do it. There have been fourteen people living here for two weeks, and we need to put the house back exactly how it was before. Mum thinks that your aunt and uncle probably would be better off not knowing that you were here with house guests for a couple of weeks.”
“I’m not going to argue with that,” Harry conceded. “But can’t it wait a little while longer,” he said rolling over away from the light. “It’s really early.”
“No, it can’t, little brother,” Hermione answered. She picked a pillow and began whacking Harry with it. “Come on Harry, get up.”
Harry grabbed the other pillow and pulled it over his head. “No, go away.”
Hermione was persistent and finally Harry picked up his pillow and whacked her back with it. “Fine,” he said with mock anger, “I’ll get up.” Harry stood up and then as soon as Hermione let her guard down, Harry whacked her again with the pillow. He laughed and the two of them had several minutes pillow fighting fun until Hermione’s Mum came to the door.
She shook her head at them, “Kids,” she said exasperatedly. “Come on you two, let’s get some breakfast.”
Hermione was in such a good mood that it was infectious. Apparently, Hermione had never spent much time in the country and she was really looking forward to it. She and Harry had a very pleasant morning putting Number Four Privet Drive back in order. It took a lot longer than Harry was expecting. It was also a lot harder than Harry was expecting. They had to put all the knickknacks back in place, but Harry had never really looked at them. He was fairly clueless about where everything went. It was odd too, because Harry had dusted the living room more times than he could count, but he still didn’t know where the little statue from his uncle and aunt’s honeymoon went. He and Hermione made their best guesses at it and hoped that Aunt Petunia would blame the irregularities on Aunt Marge.
After lunch, they packed their trunks. Harry was finished in a half an hour. It took Hermione however, three hours to finish putting all of her stuff together. She was very organized about it, and everything was perfect when it was done. Harry was surprised at the number of books she had managed to pack in her trunk.
They still had a couple of hours to kill before they were due to leave. Hermione decided that they should watch some TV before they were without again for another whole year. They flipped it on, and flipped around until they found a decent movie. They watched it until it was over and then Hermione’s Dad came in and wanted to watch the news.
They consented, and the three of them watched the local evening news stories. There was a story about a break in at a local market, and then a story about a government official’s local business affairs. The news continued to say something about the continuing investigation into the hospital bombing. The last story before the weather caught Harry’s attention.
“Escaped convict, Sirius Black, has been confirmed dead. As you may remember, three years ago, Black, a violent criminal convicted of eight murders, escaped from a high security prison. Officials believed that Black had left the country. But today, it was confirmed that Black was killed during a battle with local law enforcement in London last month. One less thing we need to worry about... Now onto weather”
Harry’s stomach dropped. Somehow hearing about Sirius’s death on the Muggle news hit the point home. Sirius was gone forever, and he would never be coming back. Harry got up and quickly left the room. He went straight up to his room.
He was angry again. He was angry at the new caster for being so callous, but most of all he was angry with Sirius. Why had Sirius come to the Department of Mysteries? If he had stayed at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place he would still be alive. Why had Sirius left him? Sirius knew that Harry needed him, Sirius knew that Harry counted on him for advice, and now he had nobody.
Harry would have started to throw things, except that everything was packed. He was about ready to start kicking the wall, when someone came into his room. He said angrily, “I don’t want to talk Hermione, so just go away.”
“That’s not a good way to address my daughter,” Mrs. Granger said offhand. “I’m sure you’d hurt her feelings if you said that to her.”
Harry whipped around to see Mrs. Granger facing him. “I’m sorry,” he said turning back around. “I’d much rather be alone right now.”
“I know you would, which is why I’m here, and not my daughter. Hermione would listen to you and leave. I know better.”
“What do you know?” Harry asked indigently to the wall. He was being rude and he knew it, but he didn’t care.
“I know what it like is to lose someone very close to you. My mother died when I was a few years older than you.”
Harry turned back around to look at her, and his anger diminished somewhat, “I didn’t know that, I’m sorry.”
“Thanks, I’m okay now. I still miss her, I wish she could have met Hermione. But I remember what it felt like right afterward. I was so angry with her. I was angry that she left me. And then I felt guilty about feeling angry, and that would make me angrier. It was a viscous circle.”
“What did you do?” Harry asked.
“My dad helped me through it. He’s a psychiatrist, really good listener. He told me then, and I’ll tell you now, that it’s natural to feel angry with the person who has died. It’s okay to be angry with Sirius. It doesn’t change how much you cared about him, or what you thought of him when he was alive. Being angry is a natural part of grieving.”
Harry turned around again so he didn’t have to face Mrs. Granger. The tears were forming in his eyes. He was angry and he was sad all at the same time. He didn’t know what he felt.
Mrs. Granger walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder, she gestured to the bed, and then she sat down in a chair, “Just talk to me, Harry. Tell me about Sirius. Tell me about anything, just talk to me. I’ll just listen.”
Harry sat down and started to talk. It started with talking about Sirius. He wound his way around the other issues in his life, about not knowing anything about his family, and about Lupin’s love of his mother. Harry couldn’t bring himself to discuss Voldemort yet. Hermione’s mum just listened. She injected a few thing here and there so Harry knew that she was still listening, but she left Harry talk until he had nothing more to say.
After a few minutes of silence, she said, “It’s okay to feel angry with Sirius and Lupin, and with your parents for that matter. The key is to not let the anger consume you. Feel it, experience it, and then be done. Let it go. Hanging on to anger doesn’t hurt the person you’re angry with, in fact it gives them power over you. Hanging on to anger only hurts you. In the case of Remus, it hurts the chances of you getting to know him, which I think you should. He’ll never be Sirius, but he misses Sirius every bit as much as you do. Having someone to share your grief with helps with the healing.”
She leaned over and gave Harry a quick hug, “I’ll be here when you need to talk some more. But we better get downstairs; I’m guessing we’ll be leaving soon.”
Half an hour later, the cars were loaded and Harry, the Grangers, and five guards headed northwest toward Wales and a county vacation.