The End of Pretence

*****AN***** So, it seems that last paragraph was slightly confusing, giving people wrong ideas. I apologise, it was all clear in my head, it just didn't come out right. ~_~!

Oiy! Here ya go. I was going to try and hold this one back, but I just couldn't do that to ya. So, your getting them as soon as I write them. We're now back to the summer after he heard the prophecy. !m/(^_^)!m/

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Chapter Seven

The train ride home was sheer torture. Ron, ever the prat, just couldn’t shut up about himself. Honestly, the boy was worse than Lockhart. He could tryto show a bit of sensitivity after Sirius’ death. Harry kept a solid mantra of “last time, last time, last time” to get through it. Honestly, did they really think he had been desperate enough to latch onto that as a best friend? They were bloody nuts! Finally, Ron seemed to wind down, seeing as how he was being completely ignored by the two other occupants in the compartment.

“Hello, are you lot listening to me?”

“Honestly Ron, you’re being a bit insensitive right now,” Hermoine replied angrily.

“Whatever.”

The rest of the trip was spent in blissful silence.

As they pulled into the station, Harry looked out and saw half the Order waiting for them on the platform.

Great. Just what I need.

He watched, amused, as they went up to the Dursleys and threatened them. He couldn’t wait till they got home; this was going to be fun. As he watched their convincing performance, he realized he had to commend them on their acting skills later.

Harry had found out some things the summer before, you see, things that were going to cause quite a stir when he started his transformation. They thought he was just waiting at home like a good boy, put in a corner till they needed him last year.

Vernon started in on him as soon as he got in the car.

“You nasty little freak! You put those freakish friends of yours up to that! Mark my words boy, you’ll write to that… that THING every three days! You will write that you are being treated like a king, and I’ll control the release of that ruddy bird! Not ONE of those letters while be sent until I see them!”

Harry just sat back and anticipated the pleasure he would get from this day.

EoPEoPEoPEoP

“Now Boy! Into the cupboard with that bloody trunk, then go cook us some diner!”

Harry cocked his head, “No.”

“Later, you can start… WHAT! What the bloody hell do you mean NO!!!!?”

“Forgive me for assuming you knew he word no, but it means I won’t be your slave anymore. Further more-“

“You ungrateful little FREAK! We have graciously provided for you, the leastyou can do is some chores to help your aunt!”

“Ah, I see you want to do this the hard way,” sighed Harry. With a wave of his hand, all three Dursley’s were bound to the closest chairs.

“Now you done it you bloody little freak, you’re not aloud to do-“

With a sigh, Harry added silencing charms.

“There now Vernon, can’t have the neighbors thinking anything unordinary is going on. And as for not being aloud to do magic outside of school, that only applies to using your wand, that’s the only thing the Ministry can track. I’ve been able to do wandless magic since I was nine.

“What’s that Petunia? You think that’s impossible? Oh well, I guess you should know, right? I should also tell you that I found my way into Gringotts and I was the reason behind the draining of all those riches you where trying to steal with those nifty little credit cards. You didn’t bleed me by the by, the thousands you spent were no more than a paper cut. I’ve got millions.” Harry paused a moment to take sadistic pleasure in their disappointment.

“Now, as for getting all that money back, because believe me when I say I had to hold the Goblin Kounsil back from going after your hides, I’m not going to. You see, I want nothing more to do with you. I came here to collect a few odds and ends and to cast a few spells on you lot so you can’t tattle to old Dumbly.”

Harry chose that moment to go and collect his things. He wanted them to stew for a bit.

Walking to his cupboard, he was suddenly hit with a large dose of nostalgia. Yes, it had often been used as a form of torture, and yes he used to hate it, but it was also the only place he could ever really call his own. When he was younger, it was the only place he could be unguarded.

Giving himself a shake, he reached into his old hiding place and pulled out a few small, dusty squares. Stepping back, he took one last look, and closed the door. As he walked away, the Dursleys were surprised to note it now looked as if there never was a cupboard under the stairs and on the wall where the door used to be, there now hung a picture of Harry himself. Petunia would later learn that this picture was permanently attached, and impervious to any attempt to cover it with anything. Much later, when she tried to move to a new house to escape the haunting green eyes, she would learn it was spelled to move to any house or place of lodging she would relocate to.

Harry then walked up to his trunk and proceeded to dump out all of his over-large Dudley cast-offs, leaving only his school uniforms, and a small wardrobe he had purchased in preparation for this day. Waving a hand at the dusty squares revealed them to be his collection of books he had acquired as a child that had taught him about the magical world. He packed them into his trunk and headed upstairs.

The first thing he did was remove all the dead bolts and the cat flap from the bedroom door. He didn’t have anything of personal value up here, this was never really his room, he did want to do a bit of house cleaning though. Stepping into the room, he waved a hand and all the pitiful furniture disappeared. The walls were also stripped to the drywall, and the carpet removed. Harry nodded and went to check how his “family” was doing.

Harry was amused to note that Petunia was looking quite pinched in the face, Vernon was turning a lovely shade of puce, and Dudley seemed about to wet his pants.

Seeing she was itching for it, and she was the only one likely enough to be halfway reasonable about all this, Harry took the silencing charm off Petunia.

“You filthy little liar, you can’t leave here, and if you knew how to use wandless magic, why didn’t you use it?” she asked smugly.

“Dearest Petunia, so sorry to burst your bubble, but I can, and will leave. And as for your other question? Why didn’t I use magic to defend myself from the physical and mental abuse you lot so lovingly put me though?” at her arrogant nod, he continued, “Simple really. I thought you were family.”

The self-righteous look in Petunias eye quickly turned to fear as she shot swift looks at her son and husband, who were both looking a bit confused at the moment.

“Oh, don’t tell me they don’t know!” Harry exclaimed, delighted. “This is going to be even more perfect than I thought it was going to be!”

Harry quickly replaced the silencing charm on Petunia to forestall the begging that was bubbling up.

“You see, Petunia, I learned a bunch of useful things in a place called The Chamber of Secrets in my fourth year at Hogwarts while my mole of a "best mate" was having a hissy fit of jealousy. I can see by your expression that you know what the Chamber is. Good. Anyways, I found a book, written by Ravenclaw herself, on memory charms. Seems she was a bit of an expert on the matter and gifted her research journal to her best friend Salazar Slytherin. In this book, I found a spell I’ve been itching to try. It’s a memory charm that doesn’t remove the memory, it just conceals it. You will be able to fully remember all of today, but all you will be able to tell, be it by mouth, written word, Legilimency, any form of communication, is the version of events I plant. For the rest of your lives, you will know these facts, but you can never tell another, even each other. I figure that’s got to be sheer torture.

“I always wondered why my mother was never talked about, but I figured it was just because Petunia was jealous of her sister’s magic, when that wasn’t the case at all. My mother’s maiden name was Lilly Evens. I see you get where I’m going with his Vernon, you must have known your wife’s real maiden name. You see, Mom did have a sister named Petunia, but she died shortly after I was born. Your wife is not my aunt. She’s actually a distant relative of the great and mighty Dumbledore, from his mother’s side. Your wife is a squib, which is what we call a person born into a magical family who is completely void of magic. I wonder if Dudley will pass on the magic his mother gave him to any of his kids, because you do have it Dudley, I can feel it in you.”

With that, Harry locked their memories, shrunk and pocketed his trunk, and walked out the door.

~Alto~