Tattered and Torn

Remus looked at Harry as they headed for the small village where Lily was currently living. The poor boy seemed pale, sad, almost frightened. "This is a big shock for you," Remus said softly.

Harry hesitated, then nodded. "I almost don't want to believe it. I'm--" He checked himself hastily. "Nothing."

"Harry?" Remus coaxed gently.

Harry swallowed. "I...I'm afraid," he confessed. "I'm afraid I'm going to wake up and find out this has all been a dream...and worse than that, I'm afraid my mother isn't going to like me. My dad does--I think--but he's got a new family. I don't fit in to that picture. And..." Harry shook his head. "I know it sounds silly, I know it's selfish and stupid, but I'm afraid my mother won't want to get to know me. I...I can't lose them again. I don't know if I could handle that."

Remus didn't say anything for a minute. Finally, he told Harry, "Harry, your mother is going to like you. She's so anxious to get to know you that I know she won't abandon you. You won't lose your parents. James has his faults but he does love you. He always did. I doubt if even three girls could dispel any of that."

Harry managed a weak if mirthless smile. "Thanks."

"I mean every word of it," Remus assured him.

"Thanks," Harry repeated.

Remus led Harry through the village gates and up one of the streets to the neat little white house. The two little kids were playing out front of them. The little one waved. "Hi!" she called. "Are you here to see Miss Tizzy?"

"Yup. Is she here?"

"Uh-huh. She's waiting on you. Go on in. I think she's playing the piano."

"Thanks, Annie." Remus took Harry into the house.

Sweet music was echoing through the halls. Harry started humming softly along with the song, then sang low. "Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart..."

"You know that hymn?" Remus inquired.

"It's one of my favourites."

Lily was seated at the piano, concentrating on the keys and playing the beautiful hymn. Finally, the last chord died away. She stared at the ivory keys with mild pleasure tinged with sorrow.

"Lily?"

Lily turned and smiled. "Hello, Remus."

Remus put his arm around Harry and drew him forward. "Lily...this is Harry."

Emerald eyes met emerald eyes. Then Harry smiled. It was a quick, brief smile, but it was the first sincere smile he'd smiled in months. Lily instantly warmed to him, jumped up and hugged her son. "Harry!"

"Mum," Harry choked out, hugging her back. Remus smiled warmly at the pair; in fifteen years he'd never once stopped thinking about what Lily and Harry would've looked like in just such a scene.

Finally, Lily pulled back and stared at her son. "Look at you!" she said, her voice thick with emotion. "You've grown so much...you must be almost fifteen."

"Sixteen," Harry corrected her. "I'll be sixteen on the thirty-first."

"Sixteen," Lily repeated in mild awe, her voice trembling slightly. "It seems like only yesterday you were just a little baby...do you remember what your first words were?"

Remus remembered, and the thought of that little voice never failed to make his heart hurt. Harry shook his head, however, his eyes slightly hopeful.

"It was Padfoot--only you could never pronounce it right, it was always 'Pafoo'."

"You kept calling me 'Moo'," Remus added, putting a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder; he knew the boy was close to collapse. "And then you called us both Pafoo-Moo...as we both came at once, it was a fairly logical assumption."

They spent the remainder of the afternoon with Lily, reminiscing and catching up. When they returned to the neighbourhood later that afternoon, Harry was feeling at least marginally better.

"Harry! Harry!"

Erin ran up to meet him as he and Remus came down the sidewalk. "Harry, we're going to the park! Wanna come?"

Virginia ran over to join them. "You can come too, Uncle Remus," she begged. "Please?"

Remus and Harry exchanged a glance. "Sure," Remus said finally. "We'll come."

"Yay!" Erin grabbed Harry's hand and started pulling him along. "C'mon! Jamie and Daddy are way ahead of us."

Harry half-smiled and let the little girl drag him down the sidewalk, talking a mile a minute. "Daddy stopped at the store after he talked to the realtor and bought us a new soccer ball, so Jamie's going to kick it around while Virginia and I play basketball. Do you play soccer?"

Harry frowned slightly. "Soccer?"

"Yeah! Soccer!" Erin's expression of bemusement mirrored Harry's. "Don't you know what soccer is?"

"We're in England, Erin," Virginia told her sister witheringly. "In England they call it football."

"Oh," Erin and Harry said simultaneously.

"Learn something new every day," Harry mused thoughtfully. Remus smiled.

"So?" Erin prodded. "Do you play?"

"A little. I used to play during gym...I'm not really any good, though."

"But that's silly. Anyone can play soccer if they want to."

"I didn't say I couldn't play. I just said I'm not exactly David Beckham."

Erin giggled. "Will you play with Jamie? She doesn't like playing by herself."

"I don't see why not."

The four caught up with Jamie and James just outside the park. James was idly tossing the basketball up and down. Jamie had a black-and-white ball under her arm and looked excited. "Hiya, Harry! Hi, Uncle Remus!" she called, waving.

"Hullo, Jamie," Harry said with another slow half-smile.

Jamie held up the soccer ball. "Wanna play socc--no, football?"

"Sure. I warn you, I'm not really any good, but I'll do my best."

James tossed the basketball to Virginia, who ran onto the ball court. "C'mon, Erin," she called to her sister, who ran on and started trying to block Virginia.

Winking at Remus, James followed his daughters onto the court. "Virginia! I'm open!" he called, waving his arms over Erin's head. Virginia laughed and lobbed the ball to her father, who caught it and shot.

"Air ball! Air ball!" Erin chanted as the ball missed the rim entirely and hit the court on the other side of the hoop.

Remus laughed. "I see you're still just as good at goal-scoring as ever," he teased.

James laughed as well, then threw the ball to his old friend. "How about you put your money where your mouth is, mate?"

Remus grinned, dribbled, dodged around Virginia, and shot the ball. As much to his surprise as anyone else's, it went in the hoop.

"Nice shot," Virginia complimented.

"Thanks," Remus said with a grin. "It's been years since I've played anything like this..."

"Will you be on my team?" Erin begged.

"Sure."

A thin row of trees separated the clearing where Harry and Jamie played soccer from the basketball court. Despite Harry's frequent assertions that he "wasn't any good", Jamie found herself unable to beat him at a one-on-one. Finally, the two wound up just passing it to one another.

"So," Jamie said conversationally. "What's Hogwarts like? I'll be starting in September."

"It's...wonderful," Harry admitted. "It's my home."

"Any teachers I should watch out for?"

"Snape. He teaches Potions and he doesn't like me. Doesn't really like m--" Harry checked himself hastily. "He doesn't really like Dad either."

Jamie grinned. "You were about to say 'my dad', weren't you?"

"It's habit," Harry explained.

"I understand. He's been your dad longer than he's been my dad--and you've been referring to him as 'my dad' instead of Dad for years."

"Exactly. And I still can't quite believe he's alive after all these years."

Jamie was quiet for a second. "I understand," she said finally, passing him back the ball. "I guess if Mom suddenly turned up, I wouldn't be able to believe it either, and she's only been dead a month and a half." She trapped the ball neatly and added, "Speaking of people recently dead...are you going to tell Dad about Sirius Black?"

Harry froze. "Wh-what do you mean?" he stammered.

"I mean, are you going to tell him that Sirius Black is dead?"

"How did you know?" Harry asked hoarsely.

Jamie sighed. "My friend Eithne has family in Ireland. They sent her a copy of the Daily Prophet last June...they said she should be prepared for a possible attack. We both know it's bunk--I mean, You-Know-Who isn't going to come to America until he's finished with Europe--but I did remember that article. I didn't tell Dad because he was so upset about Mom...or so I thought. Anyway, I didn't tell him about any of the articles." Jamie met Harry's green eyes. "Including the article talking about you. Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. It's obvious everyone here admires you."

"Remind me to dredge up some back copies of the Prophet. They've been slandering me for the past year, and it's only recently that they've stopped."

Jamie chuckled, but the smile faded as she realised that Harry wasn't kidding. "Why didn't they like you?"

"Because I told them Voldemort was back and everyone decided they were happier believing Voldemort was not back, Cedric Diggory had died as a result of his own mistakes, and I was stark-raving nuts," Harry said baldly.

Jamie flinched. "I hate hearing that name."

"Get used to it," Harry said bluntly. "Sorry, Jamie, but I've met him and I'm calling him by his name. Fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself."

Jamie's eyes widened. "You've met him?"

"Four times. Five if you count Riddle."

"And you haven't died?"

"I came pretty damn close more than once--excuse my language."

Jamie waved him off. "But why didn't you die?"

Harry sighed. "This could take awhile..."

"We've got time." Jamie picked up the soccer ball and moved over to her half-brother.

Harry sat down on a dead log. Jamie joined him. "Honestly, Jamie, no one quite understands why I survived. But there are a couple of theories. One, my mother d--" Harry paused. "Well, supposedly she died to save me--and that left some sort of protection. Love is a powerful force, and don't ever forget it." Again, Harry paused. A second later, he continued. "Moreover, there's...there's this prophecy. I can't go into details--it isn't that I don't trust you, it's just that...I really can't explain it. I guess I'd just prefer to tell my friends first...anyway, basically it says that I have the power to defeat Voldemort...for good. He marked me as his equal." Harry lifted his bangs, showing Jamie the lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead. Her eyes widened again. "That's why I survived...because it wasn't my time to die yet. I guess I'll die in the end, though...one of us has to kill the other, and I don't think I'll be able to kill him. And--" Harry stopped and looked at the young girl. "Jamie, if your eyes get any bigger they're going to fall off your face."

Jamie managed a small smile. "I'm a little worried, I guess. You don't think we're in danger right now, do you?"

"Whoa, nice one, Big D!"

Harry winced at the voice. "We are now."

Jamie looked terrified. "Wh-who's Big D?"

"My cousin. It's got to be his gang."

Sure enough, Dudley's gang burst into the small clearing. Harry didn't have time to herd Jamie out of the way before the group had spotted them.

"Well, look who it is, boys!" Piers cackled in a way that reminded Harry uncomfortably of Argus Filch. "Potter again. And he's got a little friend with him."

I'd love to see--Harry pushed the thought quickly from his mind. Aloud he said, "What do you want, Piers?"

"What?" Malcom smirked. "You don't want to play with us?"

"You're drunk," Harry said calmly. "Consider yourselves lucky I don't tell your parents and buzz off."

"Oh, I don't think so," someone snarled. "You wouldn't dare tell our parents...would he, Big D?"

Harry's facial expression didn't change as he looked to his cousin. Every instinct was screaming for him to get down on his knees and beg for mercy, except one. That instinct was chiding him for cowardice. You've stood up to Voldemort and fifty Death Eaters when it was a matter of life and death. This is just a matter of how much pain you'll be in when you crawl back home. You'll live. They can't kill you. You can handle this. Straight-backed and collected, he faced Dudley. Jamie shrank against him and he put his arm around her shoulders.

Somewhere deep down, in a small part of him he'd been making an effort to bury all summer, Harry enjoyed the emotions crossing Dudley's face at once. Shock. Fury. Disbelief. A dual desire to beat them both and run while he still could. With the gang surrounding him, he couldn't very well back down. "What are you doing back here?" Dudley spat at Harry.

"Playing football," Harry answered honestly.

Piers snickered. "Like you can play football."

"He's probably better than you are," Jamie spoke up. This was very brave of her, because while he wasn't very big Piers was strong, and among other things he was the lightweight boxing champion at Smeltings. She was right, however; even when he was sober Piers had trouble distinguishing one end of the field from the other. And at the moment, Harry doubted he could've told the black-and-white ball from a skunk if it bit him in the butt.

The circle slowly closed around them. Jamie whimpered slightly and moved closer to Harry. Harry hugged her shoulders a little more tightly and met Dudley's gaze unwaveringly. As his fat cousin raised a menacing fist, Harry quickly took stock of the situation and removed his arm from Jamie's shoulders.

Just in time. The first punch knocked him to the ground; he landed on his arm with a sickening crunch. He winced slightly with pain but didn't show any emotion at all, well used to his cousin's beatings. Dudley tended to feed off of it--like the Death Eaters, Harry thought briefly before shoving the thought out of his mind. Jamie, however, screamed in genuine alarm.

James heard the scream and immediately abandoned the ball game. Remus followed shortly behind, with Virginia and Erin in his wake. Bursting onto the clearing, he discovered Harry, who had managed to get into a sitting position, looking furiously at Dudley. Jamie was cowering behind Harry, looking frightened. The group was shouting as Dudley advanced menacingly on Harry, his fist raised. Harry met his eyes with calm fury.

"Is there a problem over here?"

Dudley glanced up. "What do you want?"

James crossed his arms over his chest. "I want you to buzz off before I buzz it for you."

"We will, too," Remus added, stepping up to face the boy. "Remember me, Dudley?"

Fear flickered briefly across Dudley's face, but he quickly mastered it into resentfulness. "C'mon," he muttered reluctantly to his gang. Still glancing back at James and Remus, the boys slunk off.

James watched them go, then went over to his oldest two and knelt down next to them. "Are you two all right?"

Jamie managed a smile. "My cheek hurts, but I'll live."

"I'm okay." Harry tried to push himself up and winced again as fresh pain shot up his wrist.

"What hurts?" James asked, noting the brief expression.

"My wrist. It's nothing...I'll be all right."

"Let me see it." James looked at Harry's arm. "Can you move it?"

Harry tried. "No."

James swore softly and helped his son to his feet. "Come on. We're going to take you to the hospital."

"No--really--I'm fine--" Harry protested, but James marched him out of the park.

The hospital wasn't that far away. James couldn't for the life of him figure out why Harry was so reluctant to go in, but once inside he submitted meekly.

"Name?" said the receptionist in a bored sort of voice.

"Harry James Potter," Harry answered.

"Age?"

"Fifteen."

"Date of birth?"

"July 31, 1980."

"Father's name?"

"James Potter."

"Mother's name?"

"Lily Evans Potter."

"Any siblings?"

"Three half-sisters."

"Names?"

"Jamesina, Virginia, and Erin."

"Address?"

"Number Four, Privet Drive."

"Nature of injury?"

"I believe it's a broken wrist."

James bit his tongue as Harry gave the information, but he wondered how Harry could be so calm about it. The x-ray technician wondered the exact same thing.

"Your son is a pretty brave lad," the tech said as he came out to get the doctor. "That wrist is broken pretty badly, in a couple of places. And it's not the only break either...it's awfully severe. Anyone else would have been screaming, crying, at least showing pain, but he's an absolute brick."

James puzzled over this and finally went in to see Harry, who was waiting for the doctor to set his arm.

"The tech says your arm is pretty badly broken," James told Harry, sitting down. "It must be pretty painful."

Harry shrugged. "I've had worse."

"You have?"

"Lost all the bones in my right arm once...I took a Bludger to my right arm and Lockhart decided he was going to fix them...wound up removing them by mistake. Granted, it didn't really hurt, but the regrowing process did...and the same arm was pierced by a venomous foot-long fang not long afterwards. And then...well, anyway, it just goes to show that I've had worse injuries than this one."

James's head was spinning, but the doctor came in, so he didn't get a chance to press Harry for details. However, while Harry was sitting patiently and waiting for his cast to dry, James ducked out and caught Remus's arm.

In a low voice, he related the conversation that he'd just had with Harry. "Is it true?"

Remus hesitated, then nodded. "And he spared you the worse details. He's fallen fifty feet from a broomstick, crashed into the Whomping Willow, been attacked by spiders, flown against a dragon...the list goes on. Trust me, his cousin knocking him down is far from being the harshest injury he's received."

"That's what worries me."

Remus started to say something, but the doctor came out suddenly. "Mr. Potter?"

James turned. "Is something the matter, doctor?"

The doctor hesitated, then nodded. "Actually, yes. Your son...it's lucky he broke his wrist today. His arm had been broken before and had started to mend incorrectly. If he hadn't broken it, he might have lost all use of it."

"Oh, God," James murmured.

"He also has several bruises and other minor injuries," the doctor continued. "Most of them are old, as though they've been there for a while. How severely do you discipline your children?"

The question threw James. "I...well, I yell at them, scold them, but that's about it. Why?"

Remus, with whom the penny had already dropped, spoke out of an alarmingly pale face. "Harry doesn't live with his father. Until about two days ago, we believed his parents were dead. He's living with his aunt and uncle."

The doctor turned to Remus. "Did you have any reason to suspect something like this?"

"I knew his cousin has a tendency to hit him," Remus answered. "I know his uncle hates him with an almost unnatural passion...but no. Harry writes about every two days, just to let me know he's doing all right, and not once has he mentioned anything. Surely he knows we'd come and get him if..." He trailed off. "On the other hand, it could be a guilt thing. He saw someone close to him murdered last month and blames himself...it's possible that he has been allowing this to go on to punish himself."

"I'll talk to him..."

"If you don't mind, I'll talk to him," Remus interrupted hastily. "Or James will."

"Talk to him about what?" James said in bemusement.

"Okay, I'll talk to him."

The doctor nodded. "Go ahead."

He left and Remus turned to go in, but James grabbed him. "Talk to him about what?" he repeated.

Remus sighed. "James, the doctor suspects--and so do I, now--that Harry's uncle is abusing him."

"What?"

"I'll explain in a minute, but...don't go anywhere yet, okay? Just stay with the girls." Remus turned and went into the room. James stared after him, then returned to the living room to sit with his daughters.

~~~

"Harry?"

Harry looked up and managed a quick, mirthless smile. "Sorry if I'm keeping everyone out..."

"No, no, it's fine." Remus sat down next to Harry. "Harry..."

Harry held up his free hand. "I know what you're going to ask," he sighed. "Yes, he is, and yes, that's why I didn't want to come. I...I don't know. I think..."

"You're still blaming yourself about Sirius and you thought that, by letting your uncle hit you, you were being punished for it," Remus completed. Harry nodded guiltily. "Harry, listen to me, okay? It isn't your fault, what happened. Don't beat yourself up over it. And don't let anyone else beat you up over it either." He hesitated. "I know why you're doing this...I did the same thing, in a sense. I didn't take the Wolfsbane Potion last full moon, and...Harry, I nearly killed myself. It had been too long since I'd surrendered entirely to the wolf brain." He put his hand on top of Harry's. "If you promise to tell the police what's been happening, I promise to take the potion every month. Fair?"

"Fair," Harry agreed. "I'm really sorry about all this."

"It isn't your fault. By the way, Harry, did you know you nearly lost use of your arm? It had been broken before...if James hadn't made you come, you probably would never get on a broomstick again. And if either one of us had tried to fix it ourselves, we'd've just made it worse."

Harry swallowed. "I'm--"

"Apologise again and I'll duct-tape your mouth shut."

Harry smiled--a small, feeble smile, but a real and genuine one nonetheless. Remus felt that everything was worth it and gave the boy a hug.

The doctor returned, bringing with him a sling and a policeman. While the doctor fitted him for a sling, Harry answered all the policeman's questions about his uncle.

Finally, the officer nodded. "We'll send someone to Grunnings to intercept your uncle. Now, what about this gang? Do you remember their names? I suppose you aren't their only victim."

"Piers Polkiess," Harry answered. "Dudley Dursley. Malcom Forbes, Donovan Wiggins, John Hallman, Robert Riendeau, Tony Baggans, Tim Holland, Brandon Reed, and Aaron Williams." He gave the officer a bit more information, then was cleared to leave.

"One more question," the officer added. "What about your aunt?"

"My aunt hasn't done a thing wrong to me," Harry answered honestly. "She's the only person in the whole house who cares about me."

"All right. You're clear. Mind your arm, now."

"I will, thanks."