InsaneJournal

Part 1

Hello Harry

I know that it must seem odd to receive a letter from me after all of this time... and everything. I did not know how to contact you, but I found a way to contact your friend, Hermione (I remembered her name from something you had written and forgotten at home), on the Internet, and she lent me this owl—I think it is so funny how these birds can deliver letters and everything. I asked her not to tell you about this, though, at least until I had contacted you.

I am married now, to an intelligent and lovely woman, Jessica, and we have a son called Liam. They are everything in my life.

So... How is your life going? I really hope you are well, Harry. You don't know how much I worried about you; I know you may not believe me, but I did. I know that if it weren't for you a lot of bad things might have happened to me and my family... and I also know that we never showed gratitude for that. There is nothing that I regret more in my life than my treatment of you.

I am really sorry for everything, and I beg your forgiveness. I know that you are a forgiving person, or else I know that my family and I could have suffered a lot, I know that you could have taken revenge on us, but you never did. I beg you to forgive my parents too, Harry... And this brings me to the main point of this letter.

My mother is sick, has been for two years now. She was diagnosed with breast cancer, and although the doctors successfully treated it, the disease had spread to her liver and then to her lungs. Surgery is not an option, and chemotherapy and radiotherapy are ineffective, sometimes making her even worse..

I love my mother. A lot. And I don't feel ready to lose her yet. I wanted her to see my son growing up, and my father loves her so much too, and I don't know what he would do without her. I know that they did not treat you well—Hell, both of us know that this is an understatement—and that you probably don't hold a lot of good memories of my parents... but honestly, even though it shames me, I am asking for your help. You are my last hope.

I don't know what your magic can do, but I think that perhaps it can save my mother... sorry if I am being stupid—I think you know that I was never that brilliant, right?

I will entirely understand if you don't want to do anything with us, or if you don't even read this letter.

Thank you for your attention, Harry. I am eagerly waiting for an answer, but I will understand if I get none.

***

Harry woke up trembling and confused. He wiped the sweat off of his forehead and curled into a foetal position, wrapping his arms around himself. He took a deep breath and then turned to the other side, grateful that Severus had not woken up. It had been years since his last nightmare about his childhood, because he avoided thinking about that time of his life, even though he knew that perhaps he should seek professional help to solve his past problems.

Now, though, after Dudley's letter, Harry found himself thinking a lot about his relatives. On second thought, he really should have taken Dreamless Sleep to avoid such dreams. Harry knew that his childhood had been bad, but surely Severus's had been way worse, so he didn't want to look like he couldn't face a less than stellar treatment... the Dursleys were an issue that Harry didn't like to discuss or even think about at all.

Absentmindedly, Harry traced a scar that he had on his chest and shuddered, remembering how he'd got that one. Harry had a lot of scars, just like Severus; neither of them asked about each other's scars, and Harry was glad that Severus must think that all the marks on Harry's body were from the war.

His mind drifted to Aunt Petunia. She had never treated him well, but sometimes he thought that she felt remorse for everything. Deep inside Harry wanted to think Petunia had tried to do her best, given the circumstances. It was she who stopped Vernon the only time that he got physically abusive toward Harry, and for that he was grateful.

As soon as Harry saw the broken plate on the floor he felt his blood going cold. His small hands trembled with fear, and his breathing stopped for a few seconds.

"Boy!" Uncle Vernon shouted and stood up; the chair where he was sitting fell back from his brusque movement. "What did you do?" The large man looked at the china pieces on the ground and looked murderously at the boy. "You little freakish monster!"

Harry's body shook as Uncle Vernon advanced in his direction. He was used to being shouted at, and through the years past he'd learned to just be silent, but the thing he wanted the most now was to scream for help, for he was sure that Vernon would kill him. The adult took the steps that separated him from the child quickly and grabbed Harry by the fabric of his T-shirt and threw him over the broken glass. Harry screamed loudly as he hit the floor and the pieces of glass, feeling a sharp pain in his chest. "What is this?" Petunia shrieked from the top of the stairs.

"The brat broke our glass, Pet!" Vernon replied, pointing at the little boy lying on the floor. "But I am going to teach him to not waste our money."

And saying that, Vernon advanced again towards Harry, who had now got up, cutting his hands in the process, and was cowering on the corner.

"Vernon!" Petunia yelled as she entered the kitchen. "Stop it!" she hissed low, too low for Harry to hear.

"What is it, Petunia?" Vernon asked, annoyed. "This is how my father solved things. I can guarantee you that the little freak will learn to respect us and stop wasting our money — the money that I work hard for."

Petunia grabbed Vernon's arm as he turned to Harry again. "He is bleeding, Vernon," Petunia said seriously. Harry's head snapped at that, and he looked at his chest, seeing that blood was indeed running down his belly and, worse, dripping on the otherwise spotless floor. Harry flinched when his aunt approached him and leaned down to examine the wound on his chest.

"This is too deep," she murmured, and shot Vernon an accusatory look. "I will take him to the hospital so they can close it. Come with me, Harry." She sounded almost... concerned. Harry did not understand that.

The child hesitated, seeming unsure of what to do. "A—aunt," he said in a small voice. "Shouldn't I clean this before?" he fearfully asked, pointing at the blood on the floor.

Petunia's face was filled with something that Harry could not describe, before she coldly said that he didn't need to clean the floor.

After that Vernon never dared to hit Harry again, and the boy was thankful for that. But it wasn't only physical violence that had affected him, and his aunt had never hesitated before saying hurtful things, or before ignoring him, which used to hurt just as much when he was a child.

***

"You are thinking a lot about something," Severus said.

Harry sighed and put his fork down. He didn't have much appetite and Severus must have noticed. "I just received a letter from Dudley." Severus slightly pursed his lips at the mention of the name; Harry knew that Severus would not understand why he would even read an owl from "Petunia's son." "He's worried about Aunt Petunia."

"I see," the Slytherin said and continued to eat. "She is sick," Harry continued. "And it's serious." Severus did not say anything, and Harry knew that although his partner did not hate Petunia with a passion, there was no love lost between them. "I'm going to visit her."

"Why?" Severus asked, looking genuinely curious.

Harry tilted his head and then looked down at his plate. "I think it would be, you know, good to see her..." he trailed off, hoping that Severus would not notice his lie."

And are you sure that she thinks the same?" Severus asked bluntly.

Harry tried not to feel offended by that, but he felt it nonetheless. His fork fell on his plate, making a loud sound.

"What she thinks is irrelevant," he answered coldly.

Severus sighed; his fork was resting on the plate. "That was out of place."

Harry said nothing, but he knew that Severus knew that he agreed.

"Are you sure that this is a good idea, though?" Severus asked and drank some water. "If you decide that you will indeed visit her, I want to go with you," he added before Harry could reply.

Severus is concerned. That was why he snapped at Harry some moments ago. Part of Harry rejoiced at that — the fact that his partner was trying to express his feelings, even if in a wrong way; for someone like Severus, it meant a lot. But part of Harry was also worried that someone was going to see him and his relatives interacting. Even if Severus knew about the Dursleys, and even if he personally knew Petunia, Harry wasn't pleased at the idea of Severus and Uncle Vernon meeting. On second thought, Harry wondered if perhaps Severus didn't want to see Petunia down...

"It wasn't a question," Severus said, looking intensely at Harry.

***

Hello Dudley.

I appreciate your concern, and I am pleased to know that you seem to have matured. I am happy for you and your family, too. I am fine now that I finally can live my life without a Dark Lord trying to kill me. I live with my partner, Severus Snape, whom I love very much and, although we do not have our own kids, I have a couple of children in my life, and love them dearly.

I won't deny that you and your family did make my life harder in the past, but I try not to think much about it. There's no use in dwelling on the past... What you told me about your mother worries me. She is, after all, my mother's sister and my closest connection to her... And she took me into her house even though she could have left me in an orphanage or someplace like that. I do not wish her ill and am willing to try and help in any way I can. It would be best if we could meet to discuss matters. I confess that I don't know how much magic can do for Aunt Petunia, but I will ask some people that do. If you are willing to meet me, just owl me informing date and place and I will be there.

"I answered Dudley's owl. Told him that I want to meet him to discuss..." Harry said. "How much do you know about cancer? Is there a potion to treat it?"

"I am not that familiar with medical potions," Severus replied. "I used to brew the most common ones, used in the infirmary at Hogwarts. I don't remember ever hearing about a case of cancer in the Wizarding world, though."

Harry sighed. He had decided that he really wanted to help Petunia.

"I will ask Hermione about this..."

"Perhaps you should also contact Poppy," Severus suggested.

"Yes, that's a good idea." Harry agreed.

Part 2

"I'll be honest, Dudley," Harry said with a sigh. "I consulted a healer — healers are like Muggle doctors — and she told me that cancer isn't a common disease in the Wizarding world. She explained to me what cancer is — something about the cells of the body growing out of control because of mut... ma—"

"Mutations," Dudley supplied.

"Yes, that... mutations," Harry agreed. "In someone who is magical, their own magic recognizes this situation and repairs it before the disease can develop."

"But someone who isn't magical..." Dudley trailed off, and Harry could see how much that news was hurting his cousin.

"There were some cases of cancer in the Wizarding world, though," Harry continued. "Squibs are people who are born into magical families but that don't have magic themselves," he explained. "Some Squibs have had cancer."

"And?" Dudley asked anxiously.

"The healers could prolong their lives. Hermione told me that the Muggle treatment for it is pretty... rough, and that sometimes it isn't successful."

"Yes, that's right."

"Wizards could not cure it, either, but the potions designed to alleviate their suffering were way more effective than the Muggle option, or at least that's what Hermione supposed, since the Squibs weren't actually treated by Muggles," Harry finished, dreading his own words. He wondered right then what a great bastard he was being, destroying his cousin's hopes like that.

Dudley had his head down, and his body was shaking slightly. After some moments Harry realized that he was crying. It was strange to see his cousin crying. Sure, Harry had seen it before, but usually when Dudley was throwing a stupid tantrum when he was a kid. This, this was different. This meant something.

"Dudley," Harry called. "Look, I am sorry, but I promise that I will do everything I can to help your mother. I—" he faltered. "Hermione is a brilliant woman, and she's researching everything she can, Muggle and Wizarding alike, that might be useful. I can't promise you that we will find a way, but we will try, really hard. The healer I told you I've contacted is also talking with other healers, and Severus, my partner, is a Potions master... We're all looking for something."

Dudley nodded and sniffled quietly, then he looked at Harry's eyes and asked the one thing that ended by breaking Harry's heart.

"So if you cannot cure her—" Dudley audibly swallowed before continuing. "Can you guarantee her a peaceful death, without pain, without physical suffering?" This time was Harry who briefly averted his eyes, and then returned his cousin's gaze. "The potions are very effective, from what Severus told me... she won't suffer."

"Thank you!" Dudley said, his voice full of emotion.

***

"I met with Dudley today and explained the whole situation," Harry said as he entered Severus's study. "He was so defeated when I told him that there's no treatment..."

"I can imagine," Severus murmured, and put a book he was reading down. "I think we need to go and see Aunt Petunia now..."

"Why?" Severus asked, frowning. "You don't need to go there. Poppy can go by herself, and certainly Hermione will agree to accompany her."

"Why don't you want me to go, Severus?"

"Do Petunia and her husband still live in the house where you were raised?"

"Yes, Dudley told me that they had planned to move, but with Aunt Petunia's disease they thought better of it and decided to postpone."

Severus crossed his arms before speaking softly. "Then you have my answer, Harry. I am well aware that you weren't happy in that place. Why would you wish to go there again?"

Harry hesitated. He understood that for Severus, things like that were way more difficult than for him. One of the first things Severus had done after the war was selling Spinner's End, as he could then buy himself a new house with some money that Dumbledore had left him.

Harry, too, wasn't fond of his childhood home, but he would face this situation as he had faced all the hardships before. Part of him, though, wondered if he didn't want some approval from his relatives, some recognition, some... love, even after all the years and after all the disappointment and hurt.

"I need to go and see her..." Harry replied. "I cannot not go... I guess it's that ‘saving people’ thing you say I have..."

"Oh, yes, that annoying habit," Severus drawled, but his tone was full of affection. "In that case, I will go with you, as I already told you before."

"I thought you didn't want to see Aunt Petunia."

Severus raised an eyebrow, his expression very amused. "She never scared me when I was a child, Harry, I doubt she can scare me now."

Harry wanted to say that he wasn't scared about it, either, but he couldn't find in him the sincerity to say that.

"So... anything new in your research?" Harry asked.

Severus sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "It is just as we first learned... no cure for cancer, Harry... This disease is really... ferocious, I would say. Potions do not work. No potion can recognize the changes in DNA, not once the body by itself did not... Only internal, pure magic can work that. I did, however, change some potions formulas to alleviate Petunia's symptoms. I also found the recipes for the potions used for the Squibs who had cancer."

Harry nodded, grateful that Severus was putting effort in helping Petunia. Each day he was more grateful for the person his partner had become... from being a loyal Death Eater in his youth to helping a Muggle that he didn't even like, now.

"Do you think this will give her a few more months?"

"Yes, but it is not a guarantee. Poppy told me that, depending of the stage of the disease, it can be more or less effective. The pain potions, however, will surely give her a peaceful..." Severus paused, seeming to look for words, which seldom used to happen. "A peaceful ending."

***

Harry rubbed his hands on his trousers. The tension was making him sweat and feel cold. He, Severus, Hermione and Poppy had Apparated as closest as they could to Privet Drive. They were all dressed in Muggle clothes—Madam Pomfrey seemed to be very uncomfortable wearing them.

"Did your cousin tell his mother that we're coming, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"That's a good question, actually," Harry replied, suddenly feeling even more anxious. He hoped that Dudley had indeed told his mother—and father—about their arrival. He shuddered at the thought of his relatives being surprised by him, and expressing the surprise in the worst possible way.

Severus must have noticed Harry's emotions—of course he did, as always—because he took Harry's hand and squeezed it lightly, as if telling that everything would be all right.

When they arrived at number four Privet Drive and knocked on the door, it was Dudley who opened it. He looked like he'd been crying.

"Harry," he greeted him, giving his cousin a brief hug, and then looked at the others and said hello. "Come in." He gestured for them to get in. Harry introduced Severus, Hermione and Poppy.

Harry took a deep breath when he entered number four, Privet Drive for the first time in years. The house still looked just like he remembered. Spotlessly clean, everything in place, the walls decorated with the Dursleys’ pictures—some of them Harry did not know, such as one from Dudley's wedding. He noticed that Severus, too, was staring at the walls, and that a frown marred his face.

"My mother is upstairs." Dudley looked a bit uneasy. "So is my father," he added. "I told them that you were coming."

Harry nodded sharply, relieved at that. "Did you explain to them what our help entails?"

"Yes."

"And they just agreed?" Harry asked, his voice hard; suddenly he felt an anger that he didn't know the source of. Something that had been in the back of his mind since Dudley had first contacted him hit Harry with full force then. He felt Severus tense beside him. Hermione bit her lip. Poppy just seemed confused. "Your parents agreed to use a magical treatment?"

"I—" Dudley faltered. "Yes, they did."

"And did you need to convince them?"

Dudley hesitated, as though he was trying to decide whether to speak the truth or not. "They are desperate, my father especially," he whispered and shame was evident in his voice.

"I’ll bet they are," Severus said, his voice somewhat nasty, as he used to talk when he was still a teacher and was trying to humiliate a Gryffindor.

"Can I go and see your mother, Mr. Dursley?" Poppy asked suddenly. The change in the subject was good. Harry could see that Hermione looked relieved. Severus, though, was still nervous; he could tell that from the way his lips were pressed in a thin line, making harsh lines appear on his face.

"Of course," Dudley said. "I will just let them know that you are here."

"May I go with you?" Harry blurted. "I'd like... I need to talk with your parents."

"Sure... you can come with me now."

"I'll be right back," Harry told Severus, and knew that the older wizard understood that he needed to be alone for this first contact with his aunt and uncle.

Part 3

Harry was gone for a good half hour, and so was his cousin. While Poppy and Hermione discussed Petunia's disease, Severus was left with only his thoughts. He was worried about this whole situation. Being forced to think about his childhood again was obviously affecting Harry. He often had nightmares, and was always tense these days. Today his anxiety could be felt from miles away and Severus could not help but resent Dudley Dursley for asking Harry's help.

Severus did not like Petunia, and he was researching potions to help her solely for Harry, who was a much better person than he, Severus Snape, was.

When Severus entered number four, Privet Drive, he had been unsurprised to see that there was no sign that Harry had once lived there. Severus believed that there had never been one. Harry didn't like to speak of his childhood and, although Severus had seen some of it when he taught Harry Occlumency, he suspected that a lot was unknown to him.

He, Severus, didn't like to talk about his past either, so he understandably did not try to push Harry into talking about his.

The fact that Dudley Dursley had looked for Harry and asked for his help enraged Severus. The man had the audacity to abuse Harry's capacity to forgive and his addiction to "saving people." Severus just hoped dearly that Harry didn't end up hurt in this story.

"You can go now," Harry told Poppy when he and his cousin came downstairs. He looked deeply emotional. Severus gritted his teeth. He was going to talk with Harry's relatives and give them a piece of his mind...

"Let's go, then," Hermione told Poppy and the witches were gone quickly, which left Harry, Severus and Dudley in silence.

"I—" Dursley seemed out of his element. Whatever had happened with his parents had shaken him, too. Severus was burning with curiosity. "Would you care for some tea?" Severus nodded, but Harry asked for a glass of water instead.

"Right. You may come here into the kitchen if you want..." Dursley said a bit hesitantly.

Harry was already following his cousin towards the kitchen, but something seemed to catch his attention on the way. Severus watched him kneel down and then open a small door that was under the stairs. The Slytherin's breath stopped for some seconds. He'd heard about this from both Minerva and Albus during the time when he still didn't care about Harry, even if he cared about his wellbeing.

Harry's reaction meant that what Severus had heard was true. They had never discussed that, and Severus suspected that Harry wasn't even aware that his partner knew about the cupboard under the stairs.

Severus took some steps until he was beside Harry, who was now looking inside the cupboard, his hand gripping its door so fiercely that his knuckles were white. His thoughts seemed to be miles—or better, years—away. Severus leaned and peered inside the cupboard and saw that it was almost empty, except for some cleaning supplies. "Lumos!" Harry whispered, and thrust his wand inside the cupboard.

"In a few minutes, the tea will be brewed," Dursley said from the kitchen. "Here's your water, Harry." He spoke now closer. There was a sound of glass breaking. "Shit," Dudley swore, looking wildly at Harry. He was staring at his cousin, open-mouthed and clearly disturbed.

When Harry looked at his cousin, Severus could see a sad smile on his lips. That was one of his most beautiful smiles. Heartbreaking, but beautiful nonetheless.

"It's okay, Dudley." Harry murmured. "I'm just... looking at m—" he stopped "at the cupboard."

"I will just bring you another glass, I guess," Dudley said awkwardly before clumsily cleaning the mess on the floor.

Severus peered inside the cupboard again until he spotted it there, written in the wall: "Hary." His heart clenched when he saw that. He thought about a small boy living alone inside that small space for years... the fortitude required to be a normal person after the isolation at such a tender age was enormous.

"I hadn't learnt to write my name yet," Harry said, a bit chagrined, when he noticed Severus staring at the wall.

"How old were you?" Severus asked.

"Hard to say... but six or seven, I guess."

***

"We explained everything to Mrs. Dursley," Poppy said when she and Hermione returned to the kitchen, where the men were. "She was grateful for everything and... she wants to speak with you, Severus."

Severus snorted softly. He wasn't really looking forward that, but he was a bit curious about why Petunia wanted to talk to him. "I will talk to her, then; I can use the opportunity to clarify any doubts Petunia might have about the potions."

He still wanted to know why Harry had come downstairs so shaken, too.

The woman in the bed barely looked like the Petunia Severus had once known. She had always been thin, but now she was emaciated, her skin obscenely translucent and stretched over her bones. Her hair was limp, thinned, and he guessed it was due the Muggle treatment for cancer. Her husband was sitting on an armchair near her bed. He ignored Severus when the Potions master entered the room.

"Snape," Petunia said raspily. "Petunia."

"You are a bastard, did you know that?"

Severus narrowed his eyes and sighed. Of course, Petunia had only called him to insult him. "A lot of people have already told me that, yes."

That seemed to enrage Petunia even more. "And did they also tell you that you are a sick fuck?"

Petunia's husband looked startled by her swearing. Severus, too, was. Before he could reply to the apparently rhetorical question, though, the woman continued.

"Your obsession with Lily was ridiculous. You worshipped the ground she walked on, looked like her lapdog." Even weak as she was, Petunia still could fill her voice with scorn. "I've always known you were pathetic, but I didn't know that you were such a sick man.

"Do you know what Harry told Vernon once? That we all should open a ‘We hate Harry Potter’ club — the three of us, Vernon, me and you!" she finished, accusingly. "You hated that boy, no doubt because he looked too much like the man you hated and reminded you of what you lost... and now you are living with him."

She weakly pointed a finger at Severus and continued her tirade. "The boy has her eyes, isn't that right? And he believes that you love him... Tell me, Snape, do you picture my sister when you are in bed with him?"

"Stop it, Petunia!" Severus hissed. "You know nothing about me or my relationship with Harry."

"I can imagine enough."

Severus stood up and began to pace. That was an accusation that he had heard before. Ronald Weasley had told him things like that... and he could, rationally, understand about people's concern over his relationship with Harry.

However, it had never been like that. He had never, ever, sought Harry as an attempt to replace Lily; that was, just as Petunia had pointed out, sick. And, although Lily had been a good, strong person, she hadn't been as forgiving and understanding as Harry was.

What he didn't understand, or accept, was Petunia of all people questioning his motives to be with Harry. She didn't have the right to do that!

"Not that it is your business, Petunia, but I love Harry for who he is, and I won't let anyone—much less the aunt who despised him—say otherwise."

"But that's where you are wrong, Snape. I raised that boy and, contrary to what you and even he may believe, I do worry about his life. I know I made a lot of mistakes with him, but even if it's too late to change that I care about him."

"Oh, so now you care about him?" Severus asked sarcastically. "You should have showed all of this care when he needed it the most!"

"I couldn't!" she said, almost desperate now. Severus was sure that if she could she would have shouted. "He reminded me of Lily all the time... I couldn't bear his sweetness, kindness when she had died to save him — I know that she died for him, he told me that much, but even before that I could feel it; I knew that Lily would have done anything to save her child. You must understand me, you have to have felt like that too!"

Severus stopped for some moments. No, blaming Harry for Lily's death was something he'd never done — especially because he knew very well who set up her death — but he reflected and analysed his own character... if he had been just a bit more bitter, resentful and hateful he might have done that. As it was, though, he had hated Harry solely because of his father.

"I was jealous of Lily, yes, I was!" Petunia confessed. "I envied her, because she was everything I wasn't, but I loved my sister, and when she died I lost any chance to apologize, to approach her again.

"I just want to ask one thing, Snape," Petunia said, all emotion gone from her voice. "I appreciate what my nephew is doing for me, and I know that he is a rare person. This fact is a relief; God only knows what might have happened to him after the way he was treated here. If you really love him, then do not let him make any kind of sacrifice for me. I already accepted my fate, and I trust that my last months will be better than they could be without magical aid." She shot Vernon Dursley a dirty look when he winced at the mention of magic. "But I don't want anything more. I can't have yet another debt to him, do you understand?"

Severus nodded firmly. At least in that he agreed with her.

"And do not hurt that man, Snape."

Part 4

Severus handed Harry a mug of hot chocolate and sat on the sofa beside him, taking a sip of his own chocolate before clearing his throat and starting to speak.

"I couldn't help but notice today that, after seeing your aunt, you looked a bit shaken, Harry."

He felt Harry tense and tighten his hold on the mug. "It was nothing," he murmured.

"It didn't look like nothing. Tell me, Harry... you need to talk about this with someone. You can't let it fester inside you, hurting you forever. Talking might help."

Harry sighed, defeated, but Severus could see that part of him wanted to talk.

"It's just that I don't understand how it was so easy for my relatives to hate me because of my magic and now just accept treating Aunt Petunia with potions and spells. Why couldn't they have made an effort for me?"

Severus didn't know how to reply to that, mainly because he now knew that Petunia's reason to have neglected and abused Harry wasn't only his magic. However, he couldn't tell the truth, as it would be even more hurtful — and Merlin forbid if Harry actually decided to agree with Petunia and blame himself for his mother's death. So, he settled for the reply he would have given if he didn't know that.

"People are often hypocritical, Harry... and they are afraid of dying."

"It still hurts."

Severus put his mug on a small table and pulled Harry to him, so that the younger man was half lying on his chest. "I know it hurts, Harry, but you are superior in this. Even after everything you decided to help them, and this is good for you, not only for them." He carded his fingers through Harry's hair. "I know how it feels when family treats you less than ideally, but you cannot let it sadden you."

"I am sad now, I cannot help it, but it will pass, Severus..." He hesitated. "I also don't understand very well how Aunt feels about me." He took a deep breath. "There is more. Today, when I was in her room, I saw a small card that I gave her, and... well, it doesn't make sense that she kept it."

Harry was so grateful that Aunt Petunia had stopped Uncle Vernon from hitting him. He needed to thank her in a special way. That was why he had decided to make a small card. He'd taken a sheet of paper from his notebook — one that he was given because Dudley hadn't liked its cover — and used coloured crayons to make some drawings. He drew himself and his aunt and then, at the bottom of it, he wrote, "Thank you, Mum." He reckoned that if he wrote "mum" instead of “aunt” she would like it more... perhaps. But when Aunt Petunia looked at the card she seemed totally horrified.

"I am not your mother, boy!" she said sharply. "I hate being your aunt already. God forbid you being my son. Don't ever say that again. Do you understand, boy?"

Harry nodded jerkily. His eyes were full of tears. He watched as Aunt Petunia threw his card in the bin.

Something inside him hurt so much that he almost would have preferred that she had let Uncle Vernon beat him.

"That fucking brute tried to actually hit you?" Severus said quietly, trying hard to contain his rage. "That Petunia stopped him does not excuse her attitude later."

"It's fine, Severus, it's all in the past now. I can't change that now, no one can."

"Did he hurt you again?" Severus asked.

"No, but... on that day he'd tried to beat me because I broke a glass and... before Aunt Petunia could stop him he threw me on the floor, over the broken pieces of glass, and my chest was cut," Harry said, and separated himself from Severus.

Severus buried his head in his hands, wishing he could go back to Privet Drive and kill Vernon Dursley. When he looked at Harry again he was shirtless. "Here," Harry pointed a scar on one of his ribs. "I got this on that day. Aunt Petunia had to take me to the hospital to treat it."

Severus traced the scar softly. He could tell that the cut had been deep.

"Why did you never tell me how bad it was, Harry?"

"I never told anyone. There's no use in talking." Harry sighed. "I just wanted to understand... why did she keep the card? Why couldn't she make an effort for me and not because she's dying?"

Severus didn't know how else to reply to that except that bit about hypocrisy and fear. He doubted that either of those would soothe Harry.

***

The house-elf announced that Hermione Granger had come to their house, but as Harry was out at the moment, the task of talking with the woman fell upon Severus.

"Severus, is Harry at home?" the witch inquired, looking anxious.

"No. Is there a problem?"

"Ye—no. It's about his aunt."

"Oh, that," Severus said calmly. Had Petunia died? "What has happened?"

"I think I found a way to cure her." But from the face she made as she said that, Severus could tell that it was, at the least, hard.

"And how is that?"

"Well, I was researching the treatment of Squibs and came across an item about a mother, a witch, who wanted to give a part of her magic so that her daughter could be treated. I don't know if it was successful, because some pureblood mediwizards reckoned that it would be absurd — of course they did — and it was never tested..."She continued to talk about the wonders of the process, about how the Wizarding world was so caught up in selfishness that mediwizards had never tried that again, about how it could be used to give magic to the Muggles.

It was an aberration.

Petunia's words suddenly echoed in his mind. He knew very well who would volunteer to do that. Harry. His Harry would probably give all of his magic to cure an aunt who might even resent him for it if that talk about not wanting to owe him yet another debt was anything to go by... Harry was sacrifice himself again to be a good person, to do what was right.

What Severus was going to do might not be right, but it was the best for his Harry. "And what do you know about this donation of magic?"

Hermione pulled a parchment from her bag and began to read it. "Well, they say it might be painful," Severus would wager so — it must hurt to have magic pulled out of one's body, after all. "But that was only theorized. It shouldn't be very complicated, but there would be needed a competent Legilimens and a Charms master to accomplish the ritual... well, I didn't have time to look for more, I got a bit excited to tell Harry and just came here as soon as possible, I will look for more."

Good, so she hadn't told anyone else about that absurdity.

"I believe I have a book that might be useful in my library," Severus said. Hermione's expression almost made him feel guilty, almost. He turned and took some steps away from her, as if going to the library, then he stopped and turned to face her again, his wand already pointed at her. "Obliviate!"

Petunia died without talking with Harry again. She lasted a whole year under the regimen of potions carefully arranged by Madame Pomfrey and Severus. Dudley kept in contact with Harry, and they even managed to meet a few times. Harry got to know his cousin's wife and son. Severus kept his distance, though, not really wanting to be near the man miserable because of his dying mother.

After Obliviating Hermione, Severus had done his own research about donation of magic, and found out that the process could only be done with sacrifices — magic could not, after all, be created out of nothing. No one had ever managed to do it, either, and Severus was only too happy to spare Harry from being a guinea pig for tests.

***

Severus attended Petunia's funeral to support Harry.

"Do you know what she told me that day?" Harry said as his aunt's casket was being closed. He and Severus were a bit apart from the rest of the people. "She asked me why I was helping her. She told me that I shouldn't bother..."

"She knew what she did wrong, Harry. I think it was a way of apologizing."

Harry slowly nodded. "This made it easier, you know, to really leave the past behind."

Severus could guess why. Harry had until that day had doubts about his relatives’ treatment. Some part of him maybe still doubted that it had been wrong, or tried to find a reason for what they had done. As Petunia admitted that she had been wrong, Harry had finally fully believed it.

Severus vowed that he would never let Harry forget that.