Chapter Text
When Harry opened the door, still holding the cup with hot tea in his hands, and being surprised when he found a well dressed woman with obvious office wear Muggle attire.
He froze in place, staring at her and wondering why a Muggle would be ringing his doorbell at seven in the morning? How did she even find him?
"Hello, good morning, sir," she said, politely. "Would you happen to be Mister Harry Potter?"
As an Auror, it was instinctive for him to analyse everything about her and her demeanour. She was a tall black woman, a slick back hair, muggle clothes, and carried a bag that obviously was holding paperwork of some kind. She had high heels, and a serious, but yet friendly expression while waiting for Harry’s answer.
He cleared his throat and tried to act unbothered by her.
"Well, that depends on who wants to know." he had to be careful with how he dealt with this mysterious woman.
He put his hands on the pocket of his robes as casual as he could, and she didn't seem to suspect he was doing anything suspicious, unaware Harry was holding his wand in case she was some lunatic trying to attack him somehow.
She, very calmly, pulled out a card from the front small pocket of her bag, and offered it to Harry.
"My name is Lena Addams, and I am a social worker. I need to speak with Mister Harry Potter, is that you?"
Harry checked the card and read her name, as well as her position as a social worker, and contact information.
Again, another thing proving she was indeed a muggle. Harry relaxed and let go of his wand, it was unlikely she was a threat, but he still felt extremely intrigued by the reason why a Muggle social worker would be looking for him. That was a few years too late, wasn’t it?
"Yes, I am Harry Potter, how can I help?" he hoped she would give him a straight answer, but when she changed her weight from one leg to the other, Harry could tell she was uncomfortable.
"Well, Mr. Potter, I have a delicate subject to discuss with you." She pointed briefly to the inside of his house. "May I come in? Or maybe we could walk somewhere where we can talk. I wasn’t able to reach you by phone, you are a very hard man to find."
To be found by a muggle? Yes, he was.
"How did you, then?"
Again, he could tell she was too intrigued by him, and it was probably for a reason beyond the unusual way he was dressed.
"I wrote to an address asking for you, to a men called Dedalus Diggle, and he replied with your address for me to write, but at this point I believe it would be best to come in person."
Well, that was even weirder. How could she get the address to Dedalus?
Bloody hell, maybe the story would make more sense after she discussed with him whatever she wanted to discuss, so Harry stepped back from the door so she could walk in.
"You can come in, please sit." he offered, showing her to the sofa in his large living room. "Would you like some tea? I just made some."
"Sure." she said, sitting down and scanning the room around her with her eyes.
Harry was more confused by the second, who was this woman and what did she want to talk to him about? Why did it look like she was analysing him and his house? He kept eyes on her while fixing her some tea, then offered her the cup and watched as she sipped at it.
She was stalling, and this was killing him, he wanted to tell her hurry up and talk already, before he was too tempted to use magic on her. But then, she finally rested the teacup at the table in front of them, and took a deep breath before looking at him.
"Well, Mr. Potter, you may be wondering why I am looking to speak with you."
Yes, just say it already.
"Yes, indeed." he answered, sipping his own tea, then doing like her and resting the cup at the table, still hoping she didn't know how on edge he was.
"These are never easy news to break." she looked at her tea for a moment, then back to his face and finally broke the news. "I am very sorry to be the one to tell you, Mr. Potter, about the passing of your cousin Dudley Dursley last week, and his wife Julie Dursley."
Harry felt like the earth stopped spinning for a second, and everything stood still while he was the only one able to move. His oxygen stopped midway inside his lungs and he coughed. His head started to spin, and his hands were shaking slightly.
That was very unexpected news, he couldn't have guessed for a second that this is was she would tell him! He was shocked, and for a moment he wondered if maybe he was dreaming, but no…everything was very real.
Dudley was… Merlin.
It was true that him, his cousin, or any of the Dursley, had a good or decent relationship. They never even think about one another after they went into hiding, Harry didn't miss or was missed by them. But now… being dead?
Harry didn't want that, and he wasn't expecting it. Dudley was his age, young and with a long life to live, and his wife…
Wait, his wife? Dudley got married then?
Why was Harry even receiving this news? Was his uncle and aunt dead too, and Harry was the only one left in the family registry to received this news? Why a social worker tried so hard to find him and tell him this? Not to sound insensitive, but what was she expecting to do about it a week after the fact?
Clearing his throat again, and trying to steady his nerves, Harry scanned his brain looking for the right thing to say, but couldn't think of anything at all. Lena, however, gave him all the time he needed to process the news, and waited patiently for several minutes for him to speak.
"How?" he asked, after finally finding his voice and speech again.
"A car crash in a rainy day." she said heavily. "A truck came at the opposite direction and they crashed."
Harry's stomach turned, and he gasped. "That’s horrible." his hands reached for the teacup, only to put it back again without drinking anything from it. He didn't know what to do with his hands, with himself.
"Yes, it is." Lena agreed, following Harry's movements. "I am very sorry for your loss, Mr. Potter."
His loss?
Yes, right. It was his cousin and, again, he didn’t wish anything bad upon Dudley, but was this news supposed to bring him pain and grief? He was shocked by it, but he wasn't grieving.
They didn’t speak in 13 years, and before that… well, it was what it was. This wasn't another tragedy in his life. But yet… he could not deny the felling of tightness around his chest, and the heavy weight over his shoulders.
Harry shoved those weird and irrational feelings away, focusing on the questions in place. Why was Lena bothering this much? Why was she here to personally give him this news? What was happening, exactly?
"Thank you." he said. "But an… I am sorry, I don’t want to look… insensitive or anything but," he swallow and blinked rapidly, not allowing his mind to start to process the wave of feelings that wanted to crush him if he let it. "Me and my relatives, Dudley included, we were estranged. For a long time now, and I’m not sure why I would be getting this news at all, let alone through a social worker."
"Yes, I understand."
did she?
"Don’t worry, Mr. Potter. I'm not the one to judge, sometimes these are the case. People lose contact, family is a complicated thing."
They weren't family.
"It makes sense for you to be confused." She sighed, then picked up her tea again and took a sip, as if to give Harry more time, as if he needed more time!
He didn't.
"The news of their passing is not the only one I bring." she added, lowering the cup to the table again. "Dudley and Julie, had a daughter, Jasmine. She is two years old, and unfortunately an orphan now, she wasn't in the car at the time of the accident, and the only family connection she has left…is you."
Harry jumped to his feet.
"Me?"
Well, now he really felt numb inside, his hearth dropped, and his stomach turned again and again. A baby, Dudley’s baby… his second cousin, alone in this world, an orphan.
"Merlin’s beard." he said, out of habit. Lena looked confused at him, but he didn’t care enough to make something up to cover his weirdness.
He almost chuckled with the irony. His weirdness, his freakishness, being the only family left to receive the information that Dudley’s daughter was an orphan.
Hold on, what in the fucking world? How was he the only one left?
"Wait a second, what do you mean? Are my uncle and aunt…also dead? What about his wife's family?"
Lena didn’t seem to consider he was this unaware of his relatives whereabouts and looked a little embarrassed for not providing the complete information.
"I’m sorry, I should be clearer. Please, sit." she said, indicating the sofa, and Harry sat back down in front of her. "No, there are not both dead. You uncle Vernon, died of a heat attack three years ago, as for you aunt Petunia… she is in a nursing home with early on set dementia that is quite advanced by now, therefore she is unfit to care for the baby. Well… I also met with your other Aunt, Marge. However, she was adamant she is not fit or willing to care for a child either, and well… while she was the one to make me aware of your existence, she was sure that if I found you alive, you would be a troubled man, probably in jail, or on drugs, or something bad and also unfit to care for Jasmine. I could tell she isn’t a fan of yours and regretted telling me about you. But, well… in situations like this we tend to check every possibility, so the child remains in the family bond. As for Julie's family, she had no living relatives fit to raise the child either."
There was too much information for Harry to process, and weirdly enough it just dawned on him a little too late what she was actually asking him to do.
She was asking him to take in Jasmine, to raise her as his own… Harry Potter: raising Jasmine Dursley.
Harry stood up once again and paced from side to side on his living room, thinking about it all, and divided between the awful news of his relatives outcomes in life, and the fact he was in a very difficult position with a very important and delicate decision to make. So, he chose to elaborate on the easiest topic there.
"Yes, well, aunt Marge didn’t know me that well, and my uncles never cared to contradict any conclusions she had about me. It’s a long story, but…let me see if I got this right." he stopped pacing and turned to her again. "Are you expecting me to consider raising Jasmine? You want to give her to me?"
"Well, yes Mr. Potter. If you tell me you that are willing to take her, I will conduct the evaluation to determine if you are fit to take her in and raise her, and if you are then, yes, she will be yours."
"Evaluation?"
"Yes, I will interview you, to know you better, ask about your life, your family, your job, your financial circumstances and everything needed to raise a child."
Harry chucked again, aware that it probably sounded weird to Lena, but not bringing himself to care. Who would think there was such a procedure? When in Harry’s turn, no one ever visited the Dursley to make sure Harry had a bedroom and three meals at day.
"That make sense." he said, coldly.
There was an awkward silence, she was once again waiting for him to say something when he was ready to.
Harry inhale deeply, begging for his brain to slow down and think rationally.
"Do I have to give you an answer now?" he asked. "I mean… I have to discuss this with my wife after all."
Lena stood up as well, since it didn't look like Harry was gonna sit down again.
"No, of course." she said. "Today is officially the day you are notified of the situation, and you will have twenty days from now to give me an answer. If this is a positive one, then we will start your evaluation process. I am the social worker responsible for this case, therefore you can contact me with any questions, not only about Jasmine, but the Dursleys as well, which reminds me." she opened her bag, and pull out a shine silver key, offering to Harry to pick up.
He did, confused, examining the object like it would turn into something more than it apparently was. Thankfully, Lena elaborated.
"This is the key to Dudley’s house, where all their belongings are and, well, you can do with them what you see fit since Marge Dursley didn’t want anything to do with any of this. I was under the impression she was afraid that I would insist on her taking the child if she was too involved, so, she said that I could do with the belongings what I wanted. Honestly, It looked like it was hard news for her, she didn’t seem to know how to react."
"I bet she would change her mind if she knew you would give me the key." Harry whispered. "What will happen to the house then?"
"The house belongs to Jasmine, and will be closed until she is eighteen, or managed as the adoptive parents see fit, apart from selling it, of course, at least not without a court order."
There was no way to avoid the question any longer, so he sighed again and asked. "What will happen to her if I don’t take her in? Where is she now?"
Harry suddenly felt awful about not asking this earlier, but Lena didn't seem to care, and simply answered.
"She is in a care home for kids. If you give up your rights, then she will be placed in the system and available for adoption, then we will try to match her with a good family."
That didn't bring Harry any relief.
"And what are the chances she is adopted? They are good, right? Since she is a baby, she will have good chances of being adopted soon, isn't she?"
"It is hard to say, she is a baby, but not a newborn. She will have better chances than grown children, of course. But we can never know, we have more babies than parents ready to adopt."
Harry reflected on the matter, he felt for Jasmine, of course, but he couldn’t ignore the hesitation inside him. He wasn't ready to say yes, and bloody hell, he didn't want to say yes. But, he didn't want to say "no" either.
This was a too big of a decision: It felt right, but also wrong.
He felt connected to her at some degree, but also completely apart. Could he love a strange child like that? A child that was his cousin's daughter? His cousin that loathed him? Her grandparents who truly hated him? Wasn’t that some kind of great disrespect for the dead? An insane thing for Harry to consider, or be asked of?
An idea struck him, tho. A weird, and maybe even unhelpful one, but still, an idea. Something that could help him reach a decision; or at least direct him on which option to consider the most.
"Could I… " his voice failed, so he cleared his throat and fixed his posture, in hopes to appear more stable than he actually was. "Do you think I could see my aunt Petunia? Talk to her? How sick is she, exactly?"
Lena looked surprised by his request, her eyes opening wide at him, but she quickly collected herself.
"For what I know, she is mostly unaware of where she is, what day or year we are in. Sometimes she knows, sometimes she doesn’t. She may recognise you, she may not. She may be calm and talk to you, or she may be nervous and aggressive. We can’t know for sure until she sees you, she has good and bad days." Lena looked hesitant and uncomfortable again. "Honestly, if you are hoping to make a decision based on a conversation with her, I wouldn’t keep my hopes up if I were you, but yes, you can see her, of course. Today is a Wednesday, a visitation day. I can go with you today, if you want, or we can schedule for the next visitation day this Friday."
"You would go with me, then?" he asked, unsure.
"As the social worker of the family, yes. I am here to offer support, and under the circumstances of estrangement, my presence is definitely required."
Harry stopped to think again. He could send an owl to the ministry to say he wouldn’t be in for the day, then one for Ginny as well so she wouldn't worry. He would feel better if he could at least solve this part of the issue, so better now than later.
"Well, like I said, I need to think about Jasmine and discuss it with my wife. But, yes, I would like to see my aunt today, if that’s okay."
"Of course, we can go now if you are ready, my car is outside."
Good, because he didn’t have one.
"Of course, if it’s not a bother to you. I just need to write… I mean, call work, and my wife. I will just be a second. Please, have more tea if you want."
She smiled politely, sitting back in the sofa.
"Thank you, take your time, don’t worry."
Harry left the room so quickly that he was almost running, then as soon he was out of her sight he stopped and leaned against a wall, letting out a deep breath from within.
That would be a very long day.
After catching his breath and thoughts for a minute, he picked up his wand and, with a wave, made it so the entire house would look as much normal as possible, hiding all magical stuff or transfiguring them into muggle like objects. Just in case Lena wondered about while he was in his office.
Gladly, his brown owl, Pearl, was inside its open cage, taking a nap. Harry carefully pets its feathers to wake her up and smiled at the big yellow eyes of the bird.
"Hey girl, I will need you to deliver a letter for me, okay? Sorry to interrupt your sleep."
The owl gave his fingers soft small bites, and Harry went to his desk to pick up a parchment and write Ginny a note to be delivered to her mother's house where she went that morning.
“I won’t be at work today, something else came up and it’s a long story, but I’m going somewhere with a muggle called Lena Addams. I will explain everything when I’m back, everything is okay, don’t worry. I love you,
Harry.
P.s. could you please set me up a complete muggle cover where I have a stable and well remunerated job? As well as education history? Promise it will make sense later, I will bring dinner, don’t worry about it."
He rolled up the note and attached to the owl's leg that promptly flew out the window, then Harry sent a Patronus to the ministry to notify them of his absence. Walking out from his office and towards his bedroom, he opened his wardrobe and looked for his only muggle like coat to use in place of the one he had now. After dressing himself, he walked to the living room, finding Lena still sitting at the sofa, but looking around with a puzzled face.
“We can go now.” Said Harry, wondering what she was thinking, since in his opinion the house looked pretty normal.
She jumped with the sound of his voice, and stood up, straightening her clothes.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” he apologized.
“Oh, that’s ok, don’t worry. I was just… you don’t have a TV, which is funny for a house with kids, but also… those are funny looking brooms."
Harry was always telling James to put away his broom in the cupboard, and he was always leaving it around the house. This was one of those times where he apparently took, not only his own broom from its place, but also Harry’s. Merlin knows why, and then left both in the living room. He would have to scold him for it later.
“And your picture frames are empty.” she added, too observant for Harry's liking.
That wasn’t true, however, the picture frames being empty was due to some protection spells around the house. Anyone who entered that wasn’t family, or longtime friends, wouldn’t be able to see or take the pictures. Harry realised how that would look weird for a muggle, mostly, a social worker who would be evaluating Harry in the future.
“Oh, the brooms are a funny story I can tell you about it later, we just moved here, so Ginny, my wife, is still deciding which pictures are the chosen ones to go on the frames. Apparently, it’s a very important decision.”
Apparently, Harry was a good actor because Lena seemed to find this a funny, and acceptable answer.
“Well, then, shall we?” she asked.
“Lead the way.” he said, then following her out of the door.
Harry couldn't remember the last time he was inside a car, but he quite enjoyed it, there was something about the journey, and he had some time to organize his thoughts. On wizard ways of transportation, everything was so quick and immediate, he was used to go on a flight on his broom when he wanted some time to think, but apparently a car ride was also a good option.
"So, Mr. Potter," started Lena after a good twenty minutes of silence. "Would you mind sharing with me about the relationship with your relatives? I am confused why Marge would talk about you like that, I even looked for a record of you in St. Brutus institution when she said you had your education, and they said they never had any Harry Potter enrolled there, ever."
That would be a trick story to come up to, he couldn't reveal anything about the wizard world, but he also didn't want to hide the fact that the Dursleys didn't consider him family. After all, that wasn't something that could stay hidden. Eventually it would be clear to her that Harry was simply related to them by blood and nothing else.
"It's a long story…" he said, thinking about an explanation.
"It's a 50 minute hide, so I guess we have some time."
"Why is Petunia here in London anyway?" he asked in hopes it would give him some extra time to think. "We used to live in Surrey, not London."
She didn't seem to mind the question or obvious change in subject.
"Dudley lived here in London, and for what I gathered, it was only right he would admit her to the care home here closer to him since his father's passing."
Yes, that made sense.
Wow, Dudley lived so close to him, could they have tried to communicate? Was Harry right or wrong about the perception that his cousin had change when they last saw each other and didn't think Harry was so awful anymore.
He wondered about that from time to time, but not for a long time now. He also never actually tried anything to reach out to him, nor did Dudley.
"So… your story?" asked Lena again, and Harry sighed.
After a few more minutes of silence, he started his adapted story to her.
"So, my parents…" something stung inside him, and he changed his mind about starting like this, it wasn't the beginning. "No, before that… before I was born, before my mother met my father…" he stopped again, Merlin, that was hard, so so hard. More than he expected.
"You weren't kidding about this being a long story." said Lena, and Harry laughed a little, appreciating the sense of humour that helped him calm down a bit. "I'm not pressuring you, just tell me what you feel comfortable sharing, but the most you tell me, easier it will be the process if you decide to keep Jasmine."
Harry agreed and nodded in understanding, then started his story again.
"My mom, Lily, and my aunt Petunia were normal sisters, Petunia being older and a very… jealous child. When my mother was eleven years old, she got accepted to a boarding school for gifted kids in Scotland, and my grandparents were very, very proud of her. I don't know the details, but it's safe to assume that Petunia interpreted this as them somehow loving Lily more than her, as if Lily was the favourite, their biggest pride. She couldn't get into the same school, she tried and tried, but they were really restricted with their acceptance requirements."
He used the ready to go excuse everyone used to explain Hogwarts to muggles.
"So, Petunia's jealousy grew more and more each year, and the distance between them did as well. When my mother met my Father at school, and introduced him as her boyfriend, Petunia was once again bothered over her parents' pride for Lily, so she loathed my father and she and mum didn't talk much in the time before my mother's passing. When the car crash… killed both of my parents, I was left at my aunt's house, my last living relative.
"She took me in, yes, but unfortunately, all of her complicated feelings over my mother and father were transferred to me. She knew that it only made sense I would be gifted like them and would have a secured spot in the same school they went to, and she was afraid that Dudley would grow up feeling the same way she did. Less special, less loved, so she just poured all the love and attention into him, and my uncle Vernon followed, since he also didn't like my father. To be fair, my father wasn't a fan of them either and didn't try to get to their good side at all. So, two adults decided to hate their nephew because they hated his parents."
Harry avoided looking at Lena, knowing what kind of expression he would meet if he did, so he just kept staring out of the window to the passing cars.
"Hate in what sense?" she asked.
Harry wasn't stupid, he wouldn't just describe the lengths of the Dursleys abuse towards him, so he wasn't gonna mention his nutrition, punishments or sleep arrangements.
"I wasn't considered part of the family, only a relative being raised by them because their had a too big of a heart to throw me into an orphanage. So no family pictures for me, no family vacations, no going back home for the holidays while at school. I just had a roof over my head, and food on my plate, nothing else."
Lena was quiet for a while, and Harry wondered if maybe she was doubting his story. But then she spoke again. "That must be hard for you". and Harry concluded she was probably just feeling sorry for him or something.
He shrugged, still avoiding looking at her direction.
"It was all I knew, I was used to it, and things for me improved a lot after I went to my parents' school and was able to make lifelong friends where their families considered me as an extended member. I would spend a portion of summer break with them, and holidays as well. It was okay. But I did move out of the Dursleys as soon as I could, and never saw them again."
"What about Dudley? He also didn't consider you as his family at all?"
"No, my aunt and uncle wouldn't give us the opportunity to bond like that. Dudley was ridiculously spoiled, and I always only had the basics. And this isn't me having a wrong perception of things like my Aunt did as a child, no. They would tell to my face that I was only living with them out of the good of their hearts, not because they cared about me at all, and Dudley were taught to treat me the same way."
Something stung inside Harry, but he ignored it, wanting to finish this story at once and never speak of it again.
"That was, until the day I left, maybe even before that." for some reason, thinking about the last time he and Dudley spoke made his insides ache even more now, and he hated the feeling of it. "When I was around 15, things started to change, I guess he had the lights inside his brain working for the first time in his life and started to think for himself. So, he stopped picking on me, not treating me as a friend or anything, but also not treating me as… as a waste of space.
"And he told me so before I left, I was surprised by it and wondered if we could try to build a relationship someday, but I don't know, life happens and we never reached out. But I got from that last interaction with him that he didn't hate me, or anything. Not like his parents."
"And where Marge fits in all of this?" asked Lena, and Harry had already forgotten that this was the reason this conversation started in the first place.
"Aunt Marge would spend a few weeks with us sometimes. She would, as my uncles, spoil Dudley and treat me as a troubled child, because my uncles didn't want her to know that I was in a gifted school, while Dudley wasn't, so they lied and told her I was in St.Brutus institution, and she just believed them. And of course, she had it for a fact that I was troubled and caused great distress to my relatives. They never corrected her, and at this point I didn't care either, and would interact with them only when necessary. I don't know what they told her about me after I left, but I'm guessing nothing good."
"This is… really messed up. I'm sorry you had to grow up like that."
Harry turned to look at her and offer a brief smile, grateful for her words and ensure her that he was over it now.
"Thanks. It's okay, I have a very big and loving family now, lots of in laws, a godson, nephews, the whole package. I've been okay."
They drove mostly in silence for the rest of the way to the clinic, with Lena making a few follow up questions occasionally. She guided him through the clinic when they got there, indicating she has visited Petunia herself before. Lena was the first to enter Petunia's room, and Harry froze at the door before even being able of getting a sight of his Aunt.
He was really about to see an older and sick Petunia, that may or may not recognise him, and he couldn't quite identify what he was feeling at the moment. He didn't felt hatred over her anymore, he didn't hurt when thinking about the Dursleys, because he had made his best to just forget about them entirely, not ever thinking about crossing paths with one of them again. And now… the memories of years of abuse and neglect was all over his mind, and he couldn't shake off the feeling that accompanied it. But, still, due to circumstances… it was necessary.
So, Harry gave a step forward and entered the room. Lena was close to the window, giving them some space, but still present in the room. Aunt Petunia was sitting in a comfortable chair in the middle of the room, concentrated in the loom she was holding, apparently knitting something. Harry never saw her do that before.
"Mrs. Dursley, you have a visitor." Lena called for her attention, and just them his aunt stopped what she was doing and looked up.
As soon as her eyes met him, he had an urge of turning around and running away, being sure that she would start yelling at him for something Harry didn't do, just like she used to do.
Harry locked his jaw, hatting the way he felt uneasy next to her, hatting the fact that this was the reaction he was expecting to get from her, because feeling this way after so many years trying to forget all about them, proved that he hasn't been as successful at it as he though he had.
Now he stood in front of her, and his instincts were screaming at him to be quiet, not speak before being spoken to, check if his shoes were clean enough, and retrace his day in his head to make sure he didn't forget to do any chores or didn't do anything that could possibly make him in trouble.
After all these years, his body and mind still remembered exactly how to behave in the presence of Petunia Dursley, and as expected, she wasn't happy to see him.
"You! What are you doing here?" she shouted, holding the armchair so hard her knuckles became white.
Harry wasn't surprised by her reaction, but he was completely flabbergasted that she apparently remembered him! Of all people, why would she recognize him?
He and Lena exchanged confused looks, she too, was expecting completely indifference from Petunia.
"Hm…" Harry mumbled, not finding the right words to say due to the fog in his mind, but then regretted it immediately.
Aunt Petunia hated when he mumbled.
"Aunt petunia? I… just wanted to talk to you for a minute." he hated how his fingers twisted in one another, sweaty with nervousness. Fuck, could he just turn around and disapparate?
If looks could kill, Harry would be long gone right there by the way she was staring at him.
"Why are you here?" she basically spit the words. "Why does Lily can't come by herself? Why she has to tag you along with her everywhere? You don't see Vernon with me all the time, so why don't you get a grip and just wait for her to go back? Or you freaks never learned how to apply common sense?"
Harry had an open mouth now, baffled at her words. What in Merlin's name was she talking about?
Even tho he was confused, hearing the word "freak" made something else boil inside Harry, and he had to force himself to take a deep breath and to keep his cool. She was cuckoo and apparently though he was his father, James, so he bit his tongue and decided to try get this conversation going towards his goal, so he could leave at once.
"Sorry, Aunt Petunia, it is me Harry, remember? Harry Potter, your nephew? I'm here to talk about Dudley."
She looked at him completely puzzled, as if Harry had spoken another language to her, but then her eyes softened a little and she relaxed at her chair, then speaking with a wonder tone to her voice.
"My sweet Dudley, where is he? He was supposed to be here by now; I want to see my sweet flower. Where is my Dudley? Where is he?" she stared at an empty spot of the room while speaking, as if she was by herself and talking to no one in particular.
Referring to Dudley as her "Sweet flower" was news to Harry, but at this point who knows how many more nicknames she made up for him over the years? He looked at Lena questionably, tho. Wasn't Petunia told about what happened to Dudley?
He didn't have to say anything for Lena to understand what he was asking.
"She was told, but like I said, her mind…" she explained, and Harry understood what she meant. Sometimes she knew the truth, and sometimes she didn't.
"Dudley, where is Dudley?" repeated his Aunt, and Harry could tell she was starting to get agitated again, so he did what it seam logical.
"He is coming." he lied, not seeing how getting her upset over the truth would do any of them any good. "He will be here any second now. There is a lot of traffic. He will be here."
Her eyes locked in on Harry again, and they lit up at his words, a smile showing at the side of her mouth.
"He is coming?"
"Yes, he is coming." he ensured her, now stepping forward and lowering himself to her level so he could keep her attention at him.
Harry felt sad, finding this whole thing somehow disturbing and he wished Ginny was there with him, that was causing him to experience more feelings than he had anticipated, and he craved for the security of his wife presence, especially when Petunia's eyes changed again, and her expression became hard before starting to spit more of her nonsense.
"I don't want you here, go away! I don't want you near my sweet flower, my Jasmine… You will contaminate her with your…freakishness, just like you did with Lily. No, go away, you can't look at her, and you can't hold her, stay away!"
Wait, what?
Did she knew about Jasmine, too? Speak of a confused mind, she was aware of having a granddaughter, but at the same time believed Harry to be James, she couldn't tell chalk from cheese.
"Aunt Petunia…" her words cut it on him, sharply. What was him expecting from this meeting, anyway? Her permission?
That didn't make any sense, she couldn't consent to anything, and she would obviously be against her granddaughter's possible arrangements if she recognized him. Yet, why her obvious refusal from him being near Jasmine weighted so much on him? As if it could to make him decide to give the baby up because of it. She couldn't consent, and yet… it did weight on him.
Maybe it would be the right thing to do. To give her up.
It was clear as day that the family wouldn't wish for him to be near the baby, let alone raise her! With all his freakishness and weirdness, the baby growing up with his…kind. They would hate him even more for it, and it would be like spitting over their graves, it wasn't right.
Jasmine was related to him by blood, but they aren't family, Harry had no right over her, no place in deciding what was best for her, this was only a formality, a legal requirement for him to be informed.
Maybe he wasn't supposed to actually consider this, and he was overthinking it like he did so many times before in his life, just like that tie in the Triwizard Tournament when he saved Fleur's sister, Gabrielle, while she wasn't in an actual danger of dying.
Why was he dragging this situation right now? Lena was probably thinking he was stupid and wasting her time.
If he gave up his rights, then he could make sure a family adopted Jasmine, a good, loving family.
Harry let out a long breath, trying to ignore once again the throbbing pain in his chest. His feelings weren't important, the only thing that mattered in this was what was best for Jasmine.
"Don't worry, Aunt Petunia." he said, hopping this would calm her down and make her shut up with the insults. "I won't be here when Dudley arrives with Jasmine, I… I won't hold her, I will stay away." He tried not to acknowledge the disappointing look in Lena's face, telling himself he was imagining it. This wasn't supposed to be, he had to let Jasmine go, and if Lena was sad about it, then it was only because she wanted to keep the baby within "family".
But, she didn't understand, for her this was only a job and the most important thing was to find a family member to take in the child so she could move on to her next case, but they weren't family, not really! Harry didn't know a single thing about the kid, or even her parents. He only knew a version of Dudley, and it wasn't even a nice one.
He wouldn't be good for her at all, she would be better with someone else.
"My Jasmine, my sweet flower Jasmine…" mumbled Petunia, not seeming much aware of what was being said to her anymore, and not acknowledging Harry any longer. Her gaze wondered again, and Harry got up and took a step back, wanting to leave as he felt like the room was getting smaller by the second, too stuffed for him to be in it.
Everything was becoming too unbearable.
"My jasmine…" Petunia kept repeating, and Harry made a sign with his head towards Lena so they could leave, and then turned to the door behind him, not wanting to stay any longer. His decision was made, so he could leave now and never look back, never having to hear his aunt's confused mumbling again.
"My Jasmine… she is so sweet, so pretty." she kept saying, while Harry tried not to listen. "With eyes… eyes like hers… just like my sweet Lily's eyes…"
As Harry gave one step forward, Petunia's words shook him to his core in such a away that he felt like the floor had just opened beneath his feet, ready to swallow him whole. His legs froze in place, and his heart was beating so fast that almost hurt. He had to use all of his strength to bring himself to slowly turn around to face his aunt again, an overwhelming feeling of disbelief to hear her say that, not only that Jasmine's eyes looked like his mother, Lily, but also to hear Petunia refer to her sister as "My sweet Lily".
That was absurd; inconceivable to him, and Harry could not wrap his head around it.
Maybe she was sicker than he thought.
"W-What did you said?" He asked, his voice almost inaudible.
"Her eyes… Lily's eyes, just like Lily's…" she kept mumbling, and Harry had to move closer to her again, in an unconscious eagerness to hear her say more.
Talk about my mother again. He thought, hopeful. Say more.
Just then, Harry became aware of his teary eyes as it blurred his vision, his hands felt cold when he raised them to feel the lump that had formed on his throat, and Merlin... he could barely breathe!
How could he give the baby up? How could he give up to a stranger a baby with Lily's eyes? A more stranger person to her, than Harry would be, that is. Someone else that wouldn't know she has the eyes of her great-aunt and cousin. How could he give up a baby that wasn't just a piece of Harry, but also a piece of all whom came before him, good or bad.
What was he supposed to do?
He needed to think, to talk to Ginny, he needed to fucking breathe!
He needed to ruminate over the fact the child had his mother's eyes, his eyes, that she was his family, but wasn't. He wouldn't be able to tell her much good things about her father and grandparents, but this… this was something nice he could tell her one day, right? Could that be enough?
Would he ever be able to forget the image of Petunia in front of him begging for him to stay away from Jasmine? Would he look at the baby and resent her for making him unable to sleep at night knowing he kept her, despite the wishes of her guardians? Could she be happy raised by him? How would she grow up happy in a household that wouldn't have a single good thing to tell her about her family?
Harry longed for that exact thing his entire life and was miserable every time Aunt Petunia would say only bad things about his parents. He couldn't tell what hurt him more: Her telling him bad things about them or not saying anything at all. He knew how it felt, so how could he make it right by Jasmine?
Finally, Aunt Petunia went quiet, and looked at Harry in such a way, that gave him goosebumps, so he got a little bit closer and lowered himself at her level again, waiting to see what else she would say, hopping it would be something good, instead of more rambling.
He could see clear as day the confusion on her face, it was there, deep inside her wary eyes that started to fill with unexplained tears when they were finally able to lock in into his. With shaking hands, Petunia slowly reached out to him and held his wrist as strongly as she could, never looking away from him while doing it.
"Take care of Lily's eyes." she whispered, a single tear running down her face. "Lily's eyes…" her lower lip was shaking. "Eyes like yours…"
Harry felt like being swallowed by a void, just like when submerging his head into a Pensieve. This moment reminded him of someone else that loathed him as much as Petunia did, this someone that despised Harry's father, and then Harry for looking so much like him.
This someone, whom, before parting from this world, looked at his eyes exactly like his aunt was doing right now. Both looking at Harry's eyes, and both seeing someone else entirely. They were seeing his mother inside him and letting their love for her linger inside them one last time.
Harry choke back tears, a strangled noise coming out of his lips when he tried to breathe.
Aunt Petunia was confused, and he was confused as well because he didn't know what to do or say, but he felt an uncontrollable urge to say something meaningful to her, something that felt right and that would give her troubled mind some kind of piece, something more to make the twisted form of love inside her to linger a little longer.
Harry was aware that his aunt would never do the same for him, but it wasn't for her that he was doing this either.
So, he wet his lips and tried to find his words again, his still cold hand covering hers that still held on his wrist tightly.
"Don't worry, aunt Petunia. Jasmine will know…" he started, still having his aunt's undivided attention. "She will know nothing but kindness, and love. She will also know about how her grandmother cooked an amazing apple pie, and how the smell of it would fill the house every Sunday. She will know how her grandfather would reward himself with a piece for every word he got right on the crossword from the news paper. She will know how he kissed his wife with love every morning before leaving for work, and every evening when he came back. She will know that he loved her so much, that he had her back to matter what, he would fight against every monster to protect her and their baby Dudley, Jasmine's father.
"She will know how her father was so, so loved by his parents, and that he loves her just as much. And she will learn about how her beautiful green eyes are able to bring up so much love to anyone who stares at them and are reminded of who she got them from. And Jasmine will love her too, just as much as we all do. I promise." a last chocked gasp escaped from him as he finished. "Jasmine will have it better than us, she will have it all."
He wasn't lying, these aren't just empty words to appease his aunt. If he decided to raise Dudley's child, then he would do his best to share with her good things about them, even if those good things didn't have any involvement with Harry, like the apple pie he was only allowed to have the leftovers of, or his uncle's laughter he would listen from the inside of his cupboard under the stairs. He would make sure she knew about the good part of them, that she learned about her family's history. Even if she grew up away from him, he would make sure she knew it all somehow, it was important.
Unable to say anything else, Harry got up again and stared at his confused aunt one last time before turning around to leave once again, and as before, his aunt was able to wrap her bony hands around his throat and squeeze the air out of him without moving a finger.
"Thank you…" she said. "H-Harry."
He could not do it.
Frozen in place again, this time he couldn't look back at her, he needed to leave that place behind immediately or he would be sucked into an endless black hole that would have him trapped forever, and he needed to go back to his family, he needed to step forward, not back.
And so he did.