I do not own Harry Potter nor any of it's characters.

"Isn't it lovely, Petunia?" smiled the portly man of Vernon Dursley. His wife nodded happily.

"Yes, an apartment was a fine idea to buy Vernon."

They glanced around their new apartment, it was rather nice and for a relatively inexpensive price. They had given their previous house on Privet Drive to Dudley. Their son and daughter-in-law had had their first child, a sweet little girl named Corrin. Wanting their grand-daughter to grow up in a nice environment, they had given their house to their son.

Petunia glanced at her watch, 2:56. Their landlord was coming for tea at 3:00. She stood and gave another excited glance around her new home.

Flinching at the sound of the whistling teapot the woman bustled into the kitchen.

Vernon flicked off the television as a polite knock resounded from the door. Standing with a slight groan he lumbered over to the door, opening it with a smile, only to have it fade off of his face a moment later.

A relatively short man stood on his threshold, reaching only Vernon's chin. He was pale, unnaturally so, as if he had just waltzed away from his deathbed. He looked even paler under the messy shock of inky black hair. A red scar glowed on his pale forehead. Pink lips were set in a thin line, contrasting greatly with emerald green eyes.

Harry Potter

"Good Afternoon Mr. Dursley, we arranged for tea did we not?" his voice was hollow, devoid completely of emotion.

"Harry." said Petunia from behind her husband, having just set down her tea-tray. "You're our... landlord?"

The man nodded, now leaning against the doorframe.

"Is it-" Vernon's voice catched, "Is it really you boy?"

"Yes, Uncle"

The two Dursleys let out shuddering sighs, feeling strangely saddened by this turn of events. They would have to move, there was no way their nephew would allow them to stay after the way they treated him as a child.

"May I come in?"

They stood aside and led the man into toward the couch. He sat, crossing his legs at the knee and leaned back, a look that seemed both composed and lethargic.

"How have you been?" he asked the couple in mild interest.

They blinked, surprised at the polite tone.

"Pretty well," replied Vernon. "Er, we just got our first granddaughter."

Harry nodded with an empty smile. "Yes, Corrin was it?"

Petunia flinched, while her husband narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Yes, h- how did you know?"

"Dudley and I have kept in touch. I actually attended the wedding."

"R- really? I don't recall-"

"Magic."

Vernon nodded and cleared his throat, before quickly changing the subject. "So, how have you been? A family now I suppose?"

"Mmm." hummed the man. "No, I'm not capable."

"Oh," replied Dursley, his voice cracking. "I- I'm sorry to hear that."

Harry smirked slightly with a tilt of his head. "Are you? There is no need to be."

The couple shifted uncomfortably and Petunia asked. "Um, so why aren't you living with... your kind?"

He blinked in mild surprise. "Would you actually like to know? It is a long story."

They nodded in unison, feeling strangely interested in their nephew's life.

"Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully. "Do you remember, Voldemort? He was the man who killed my parents."

They both shuddered, but nodded. "He wanted to kill me too, ever since I was born. So he came to the house, killed my parents and tried to kill me."

"But, you were a baby!" exclaimed Vernon in confusion and mild horror. "Why would he want to kill you?"

"A prophecy. 'The one with the power to kill the Dark Lord approaches. And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not." He took a sip of tea. "Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.'"

They shivered, how did this happen?

"I was the ' savior' the only one who could defeat him. Every year since I was eleven, he tried to kill me. He wasn't 'alive'... a shadow of sorts. Until one day in my seventh year, he was resurrected." A twisted grin curled on the edges of his mouth. "His soul was split, to tiny pieces. The only way I could kill him was if I destroyed those pieces, or else he would be revived again when I tried to kill him."

"I had destroyed them all, there were so many casualties by that time. All that seemed to be left was to kill him, until someone... special died, you may Mrs. Dursley, his name was Severus Snape.

Petunia gasped with wide eyes.

"He-"

"He's dead, yes."

She frowned sadly, another piece of her childhood stolen by the same man who killed Lily, her baby sister.

"He had given me his memories as he was dying, memories I would use to defeat Voldemort."

"It turns out there was one soul-piece left. One the night my parents died, Voldemort had unknowingly split his soul again. This soul-piece latched onto the nearest and strongest, magical object it could find."

A wave of nausea washed over the two Dursleys as they realized what the man was insinuating.

"It latched on to me, I had to die."

"But, you're-" began Vernon.

"I am alive. Voldemort killed me and came back to life and killed him."

"There was celebration all across the Wizarding World. But it soon ended, repairing needed to take place and they needed a scapegoat, someone to blame besides themselves for this mess. I was sentenced to life in Azkaban."

The eldest Dursley shivered. "Isn't that the place with all the... Demetoids? A prison?"

"I stayed there for seven years, before I got bored and left."

Petunia grimaced. "You saved them... died for them and the put you in that, that Hell?!"

Harry shrugged indifferently before glancing down at his watch. "I'm sorry, but I have to go." he said apologetically.

"Oh... Alright then." said Mr. Dursley, still in shock. He escorted the young man to the door.

Petunia watched him leave, but spotted a tattoo on the back of Potter's neck. She frowned then flinched.

"Vernon, how much older is Dudley, than Harry?"

He paused thoughtfully. "A few months, why?"

"Does Harry look to be in his thirties to you?"

"Now that you mention it, he only looks about twenty, maybe less."

'So the story was true.' Petunia thought back to the children's book Lily had given her years back, The Tales of Beedle the Bard. There was always one story that stood out.

The Tale of Three Brothers, the last sentence had a symbol inked under it written next to it was Master of Death. This same symbol was carved into the back of Harry's neck.

A family now I suppose?"

"Mmm." hummed the man. "No, I'm not capable."

The aged woman couldn't help it. 'How unfair.'

She cried.

"It's true Vernon," she moaned between sobs next to her confused husband.

"I hate magic."

That was sorta... meh. Whatever I had a free period in class a few days ago so I did... this.

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