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-/-
"So it's decided then?" Harry asked curiously as the Dursley family sat at the dinner table, eating a delicious pot roast with potatoes and carrots.
It was always the food you ate in your childhood that you remembered most fondly, so despite the fact that the Hogwarts house elves always did an amazing job, Harry appreciated his aunt's cooking a lot whenever he came home. Not that he was a slouch in the kitchen himself, give him a piece of toast and an avocado and he could do serious magic.
"Yes." Vernon nodded. "After looking at the financial situation and, well, the actual city, we think it would be a good idea." He shared a look with his aunt before sighing.
The reason for the sigh was obvious: Dudley was sullenly looking at the plate in front of him, seeming, for once in his life, to be without appetite.
Harry ignored the teenager. Moving countries was tough, but it taught character. New languages came in handy as well, and while he'd been born in England this time around, no amount of patriotism and familiarity would make him choose Surrey and by default London over Barcelona.
Especially pre-climate change and pre-tourism boom, Barcelona.
Weather? Incomparable.
Seaside? Present.
Food? Do you even have to ask?
The only comparison Barcelona lost was the one about the art galleries and entertainment possibilities, but being a mil+ metropolis meant it didn't lose out much either.
Quite frankly, he understood both sides of the story here now that he was back home and more present mentally.
Vernon had gotten a rare opportunity. Follow his passion for retro-fitting vintage cars as his main profession, with a higher salary in a sunnier place. And going from the fact that his parents seemed to be looking forward to the move, they probably also liked Barcelona from their visit.
"It's a beautiful city," Petunia said dreamily. "Especially when they finish that cathedral."
Harry grimaced at that last point. Well, even with an unfinished Sagrada de la Familia, it was a nice city. Once again, he had to mention the food. Also, there was just something in the British blood system that drew them to Spanish coasts. What can you do?
Of course, he also understood Dudley's position. Moving away from the place you'd grown up in on what seemed like a whim.
Kids were bad at understanding how hard their parents had to work to provide the tranquillity of childhood for them. Especially privileged kids like Dudley.
The Dursleys had investments, considering one of them was a time traveller, it would be dumb if they didn't. But, well, it would take a few more years to really retire if that's what Vernon wanted to do.
Also, there was one last thing.
If the Dursleys wanted to enrol Dudley in a Spanish school, Harry would be quite against it. It was a cruel thing to do to a child to plunk them into a new country and make them interact with their peers in a language they barely knew. Sure, language tonics could help, but Harry had moved countries as a child in his last life and had suffered from it.
But… "It won't change much considering we'll both be going to boarding schools, huh?" Harry asked rhetorically, at which Dudley snorted, stood up, and left the room like a little storm of hormones.
"Touchy," Harry commented, sharing a wry look with his aunt.
"You don't mind?" Petunia asked while wringing her hands.
"Considering I'm here barely three months a year, it's more important to ask if you mind, you're adults, but you still deserve some consideration for your wishes. I'm not gainfully employed, but even I know that when you get a better offer, you take it," Harry muttered and took a bite of the roast.
"Dudley will miss out on some weekends at home," Vernon muttered.
"Yes," Harry said sharply. "But that's all he's losing. Just like me, he'll be boarding for most of the time. And considering mom doesn't have a job, she can easily pick him up with the plane and take him home." He paused. "Also, there are other, cheaper ways of transportation," he hinted. He crossed his arms. "Quite frankly, I have no particular attachment to this suburb, you're the ones who picked it, which is your right, but I can tell you right now that buying an apartment or house in Barcelona city centre won't be a decision you'll regret."
"You boys will grow up quite soon," Petunia said with a sigh, taking a sip from her glass. Harry smelled gin; it seemed she was celebrating his return. "What will we do here, in the middle of nowhere?"
"It's peaceful, but it's not interesting," Harry said. "You'll get bored."
"I've been running our finances. We can afford an apartment, four rooms," Vernon said. "Without selling the house, I mean."
Harry shrugged. His parents trusted him for financial advice, a privilege he got by being right about most things until now. The question of whether it was worth it to sell the Surrey house to buy a house in Barcelona was out of his purview, though. It was an investment, just like their stocks. Additionally, this was still 1991. Vernon was talking about buying an apartment in Barcelona in cash from his savings, thus depleting them. He could easily earn enough from work and investments to buy a bigger house again in seven to ten years.
"Sell it if you don't want to deal with the mess, but Dudley would probably take it badly. This is his childhood home after all."
Petunia gave him a look over the rim of her glass as she took another sip. "It's also yours," she said pointedly, causing her nephew to blink.
"Of course," Harry said smoothly, once again wondering how horrible of an effect the horcrux in Harry Potter's scar must have had for this family to turn out that fucked up. Dudley had a small, selfish streak, and his parents were as outdated as any boomer was, but they weren't fundamentally bad people. They were quite open-minded, actually, considering they were willing to move countries.
"Dudley is privileged," he eventually decided to say. "Growing up in a middle-class suburb, he'll go to Eton starting next year. He doesn't understand how it is to be poor, to have real challenges. Changing the country, even if it is only for three months a year, will give him some perspective."
"Surrey certainly isn't Cokesworth," Petunia said with a disdainful sniff while Vernon was shooting Harry a suspicious look.
"And, what hardship have you endured, huh, boy?" he asked playfully.
Harry realised that he'd been taking himself too seriously.
He'd never bothered hiding his maturity much in the past. After all, a life of deception seemed like an amazing way to drive yourself insane, but he was laying it on quite thick here.
He pouted. "Someone stole my chocolate frog on the train," he complained. "And you have the gall to tell me I've never experienced hardship?"
Petunia and Vernon exchanged a look before laughing out loud.
-/-
After dinner and going to Dudley's room to share a few consoling words, which didn't really go very far, Harry turned into his room and unpacked his things, putting the hat on his usual perch on his wardrobe and turning on the music on his record player.
New summer, new albums. Nirvana, Guns N' Roses and Pearl Jam all had amazing releases last year.
A tik and a tok suddenly disrupted his planned meditation session, causing him to look at his window where an owl was perched.
He wasn't quite sure who would be writing to him right now. He'd already talked with all the professors he needed to talk to, gotten the books from McGonagall and the instructions from Flitwick. He'd seen his friends on the train just a few hours ago.
His magic senses didn't pick up anything malicious, so he let in the owl and accepted the letter. Throwing the animal a stale owl treat leftover from Christmas vacation, he threw himself onto his bed before sighing as he recognised the toxic green ink.
Dear Harry,
It's been quite a while since our last communication. I heard some interesting things have happened at Hogwarts? You'll have to tell me all about it once we meet next. Likely soon, as I come as a bearer of dubious news, which seems to be quite common for our correspondence. Although had you not wished it to be so, you shouldn't have tricked me into doing all this investigative work.
My workload has been increasing as my prestige at the Daily Prophet rises, but I'm nevertheless still aware of my side of the deal, as I am sure you are aware of yours.
Skipping to the meat of the matter, I have encountered a peculiar paragraph when looking through the war cases filling up the Prophet's library like a clogged artery. In particular, I am referring to the transcript of Evan Rosier's interrogation in front of the Wizengamot.
As you might know, there were a series of trials to go through at the time, and thus they weren't handled with all the actual due diligence they deserved, which is why this particular part of the case hasn't been followed through to the point that it likely should have been.
With this context in mind, here is what Rosier said as he was dragged out of court in chains to be thrown into Azkaban.
'You think you can do this without consequences? You think our movement is dead, you filthy mudbloods? The child will come to avenge the father, and you'll regret everything. Everything!'
Evan Rosier never had children, which is why this line in particular strikes me as a bit odd. It could be nothing, but it could be everything. Rosier was in the same year as your mother and by all accounts already an aspiring follower of You Know Who by his sixth year.
I don't have any further clues on this matter beyond simply digging more deeply into the man. If you have a suggestion, I would like to hear it.
There is a memory of the court proceedings somewhere in the archives, but the queue for using the pensieve is prohibitively long.
Looking forward to Helsinki.
Regards,
Rita Skeeter.
Harry put down the letter and frowned, massaging his temples.
He would have wished for a break in regards to his mother, considering that the diary had been a gut punch entry after entry during the last half a year. But, well, he couldn't really complain about progress, no matter how shit it made him feel.
He wanted to know as much as he needed to know.
'The child will come to avenge the father, and you'll regret everything' was a fairly vague statement, a confusing one at that.
The first weakness of the supposed connection was obviously the fact that, considering that his conception had been… non-consensual, it was questionable why, if the sentence was referring to Harry, he would feel the obligation to avenge anyone. Quite frankly he'd rather piss on the corpse rather than avenge it.
But his conception had also been artificial, not, in other words, a crime of "passion".
This meant that there had perhaps been a plan.
A plan that hadn't come into fruition? Voldemort's defeat two years after Harry's birth had changed a lot of things, reshuffled and destroyed countless plots.
Had this been one of them?
As for what Rosier actually meant, it would likely be impossible to decipher from secondary sources. They barely had a sentence to go on, and many, many people had already investigated everyone who could have possibly had anything to do with Lily Evans during her time at Hogwarts.
That meant that more than anything, rather than doing more research, Harry needed to talk to Rosier.
However, presumably the man was still in Azkaban.
Which begged the question.
How exactly would Harry manage to speak to him?
And additionally, considering that even if Azkaban allowed visitations, how exactly Harry would make the man talk, considering there would be iron bars separating the two.
It seemed that legilimency might have just jumped up in Harry's very, very cluttered priority list. Convenient considering tomorrow's session with Draco.
Similarly to the mind arts back then, becoming an animagus had suddenly become more important.
After all, if an animagus could break into Azkaban.
Why couldn't one break in?
-/-
AN: Dun, dun, dun… Direction for the year after this summer has been fixed. Harry will be going for the animagus transformation to go break into azkaban to find out the last clues he needs. Or will he? Maybe I'll end the story by having Harry trip on a discarded banana peel and break his neck, thus highlighting the absurdity of life? Endless possibilities. Support me and read ahead on patreon :=).