Telling Him I
I'm related to the Malfoys!/Lily's 1st letter
I'm re-posting the earlier chapters with italics and the new title. There are some minor alterations to the text as well.
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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. You know that and I know that but I still have to write the disclaimer. I have read a lot of fanfictions and consequently may have "borrowed" other people's ideas so if you recognise something it probably isn't mine. Finally if I am aware that I have taken somebody's idea I will put their pen name in brackets after it or acknowledge them at the end of the appropriate chapter. I am not making any money out of this so don't sue. I don't know why I bothered to write this as no one reads these anyway.
After being thrown back into his cupboard, which was again his bedroom, and the newly fitted bolt on the cupboard door had been rammed across, Harry heard his aunt answer the door. A clearly feminine voice greeted his aunt. He heard his aunt stammer a reply and invite the woman in. Despite being in an uncomfortable position, something pressing a bruise his uncle had given him the previous evening and a cut on his leg being aggravated by the single blanket that he had found in the cupboard upon his arrival, he continued to listen, fearing moving, in case he was heard.
The woman and his aunt Petunia clearly knew each other.
Several minutes later Harry had still found out very little; they hadn't seen each other for about 20 years and appeared to be related. However both women were clearly avoiding several topics by the way they spoke. But after the subjects of the weather, their health, how nice Petunia's house was etc. the conversation came to a grinding halt.
They sat in silence until Petunia, with a spur of inspiration, asked if she would like some tea. The other person who had now been named, Narcissa, it occurred to Harry that it was an unusual name but he was equally sure that he had heard the name before, answered the affirmative.
When his aunt returned she had apparently thought of another safe subject; travel.
"So did you have far to come?"
"Far enough." replied Narcissa's voice calmly.
"Did you get the train? I don't see a car outside."
Harry could hear his aunt audibly wince and guessed that both had blushed. Clearly dangerous ground had been stepped on and Harry was keen to find out more.
After five seconds of further tense silence and the inhabitants of 4 Privet Drive experienced an earth-tremor otherwise known as Dudley entering the house. Narcissa gasped until Dudley's bulk emerged in the doorway to the living room and asked, in a way that can only be described as having too much cake in your mouth, who was speaking to his mother. Petunia informed him that she was speaking to his Aunt Narcissa, her sister who lived a long way from here. Dudley then asked Narcissa if she had any kids. Her answer was "Yes, I have son, Draco, he's fifteen". Petunia quickly suggested that Dudley could go and do his homework.
Harry blanched; Draco was his cousin! The thought that he seemed to have a habit of hating his cousins, and vice versa, flitted through his mind.
Petunia then spoke, fear lacing her voice.
"Why did you come here?"
"I need your help. I'm worried. For the last 14 years Lucius and I…Well our relationship… It's been OK, so long as I don't look for his…hobbies. I don't mind. But if the Dark Lord is back then he will start again, and I don't want him to, but I can't stop him, so I don't know what to do.
"Firstly, I do not know what you are talking about, and secondly, I couldn't do anything even if I did understand you."
"Please! We might only be half sisters but we are family."
"No! I can't and I won't, Vernon hates magic. I'm not doing anything that will involve him."
"Fine. If you won't help I'll go, but I really wish you'd reconsider…"
"I'll go then. Thank you for the tea. Good bye."
The door shut with resounding finality.
Harry released the breath that, until that moment, he hadn't realised he'd been holding. He was related to the Malfoys. And Narcissa doesn't like Lucius being a Death Eater. As he shifted into a more comfortable position he wondered what Narcissa had wanted Petunia to do.
"Sleep? Impossible!" these two short phrases repeated themselves over and over in his mind, in a sort of unending chant, as he paced his rooms. The Mark had been burning all night and was getting worse by sharp, painful degrees.
An owl swooped through the window and landed with as much grace as a fairy elephant in a neatly stacked pile of papers. Severus, glad of the distraction, untied the letter and looked at it. The handwriting was familiar. Severus dropped the sheets of parchment as if they scorched his hands. Shock forced him to take a deep breath and sit down. When he had recovered he picked up the parchments and checked the signature. It wasn't fake. It was from Lily.
It had been sent by delayed post, sent to arrive today, the 31st of July.
Severus no longer felt the Mark as he read the words his wife had written only days before she had been killed.
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