Flora And Fawna [HARRY POTTER]

35

Harry was four now, he had turned four a few weeks earlier and he was a little terror, running around the house with Dudley. He was coming into the age where he questioned everything, like where his parents had gone and why he was living with his aunts, so one afternoon Rosie decided to set him down and tell him a story that would hopefully answer some of his questions.

Harry was very much a fan of bedtime stories, so one night about a week before Rosie went back to school, she tucked him into bed and sat back.

"You're growing into such a handsome little man," Rosie cooed, leaning forward for a second to minch his nose, something that always made him giggle. "You've always been such a good little boy and now I need you to listen to a story. Is that alright?"

Harry nodded eagerly, as his youngest aunt had never disappointed him before. Rosie had always been engaging, which was one of the reasons Harry would start primary school the next year leaps and bounds ahead of his peers. Both he and Dudley always adored listening to their aunt speak, and teach them new things.

So Rosie began.

*******

Merope Gaunt wasn't a pretty girl by any stretch, her family had assured of that when they frantically kept their bloodline pure. Which is probably why Merope was so taken with the beautiful Tom Riddle. The Riddle family was one of the richest in Little Hangleton, the town where the Gaunt family had settled when a few generations earlier, their fortune had been spent. He was dark, and handsome, and would probably never look Merope's way twice.

One afternoon Merope was out in her family's garden working when Tom rolled by in his family's carriage, and happened to catch sight of Merope. Of course Merope probably looked a sight, she had been working for hours by then, but she had frantically tried to straighten herself up as to look presentable to that beautiful man. The Riddle carriage continued down the road, and Tom didn't look back. 

No one quite knew how it happened, Merope was thought to be a squib after so many years  without showing any signs of magic, but somehow Merope and Tom met, and Merope slipped Tom a powerful love potion called Amortentia.

*******

It was at that time that Rosie paused, looking at Harry who was showing no signs of being sleepy, and decided that if she didn't want to deal with the little hellion sleeping until noon, she would need to be done for the night.

"There's something you need to know Harry," she said seriously, deciding to take the moment to teach him an important lesson that she had no doubt he would need in the future. "No love potion, no matter how powerful, can create love. I know you don't quite understand yet because you're so young, but love cannot be forced. Now, it's getting quite late and I do believe we shall finish our story tomorrow. You need your sleep if we're to go to the zoo in the morning."

Harry was, of course, reluctant to let his aunt escape so easily but he was soon asleep. He was stubborn, but it was late and he had already had a long day. He was snoring almost before Rosie had time to close the door of his room behind her.

*******

Rosie continued to tell her story over the next several weeks, and then on the nights of the days she returned home. By the time end of year exams were rolling around, Rosie had told Harry about a little boy who shared his father's name, being born and being raised in an orphanage in London until an old man with a long beard came to him and told him that he was special. Even Rosie had to admit that the story was going very slowly, but Harry always seemed so interested in it he asked so many questions, many of which Rosie would have to research later.

The last last weekend of the school year, Rosie was home once again and Harry was practically begging to be put to sleep because Rosie had intentionally left him on a cliffhanger the Sunday before, and Rosie had just stopped on Tom stepping up to the entrance of platform nine and three quarters.

"Story, Rosie," Harry tugged on Rosie's sleeve as soon as the dinner dishes had been put away. "Bedtime."

Dudley, who had been playing with some tin cars in the living room looked up at the mention of one of Rosie's stories- she was rather good at telling them and Dudley liked to hear them as well- but seemed to remember the last time he had sat in on one of Harry's bedtime stories and went back to playing. Dudley hadn't been a fan of hearing about Tom Riddle Junior and had made a point of telling Rosie as much before he gathered his blanket and pillow and marched out of the room Rosie and Harry shared. He knew that if he just waited for Harry to go to sleep Rosie would come into his room and tell him his own story, so that's what he had taken to doing.

Petunia huffed from the sink, and Vernon snorted.

"He's been coming to me and asking me to tell him that story all week," Petunia complained as she washed dishes. "I've been telling him that I don't know a thing about this Tim Riggle man, but he wouldn't listen to me."

Rosie herself snorted, at the thought of the Dark Lord, who infamously hated his filthy muggle father's name, being there and being forced on the very principle to correct Petunia right then.

"No!" he would say, that is if he didn't just move straight to hexing Petunia. "My name is Tom Riddle and you will call me Lord Voldemort you filthy muggle trash!"

Rosie smiled at her sister, then looked down at Harry who was still tugging on her arm.

"It's still light out, my little man," Rosie scolded playfully. "Don't you want to spend time with your family that loves you?"

Harry shook his head stubbornly and Vernon, who had been watching the exchange, barked out a laugh. Sometimes Rosie forgot that Vernon hadn't always been a part of their world, as he had taken it so well. In any other circumstances a muggle might be expected to freak out, call the police or just plain leave. But Vernon had stuck around and even now, that he had two children living with him that he had never agreed to, he was a kind man. Gruff but kind.

"Oh alright," Rosie gave up and rose to her feet, taking Harry into her arms as she did so. It was one of the things that she loved about Harry, how he was always willing to cuddle with her. The year before when Dudley had gone off to primary school he had decided that he was too old for Rosie to pick him up and cuddle him. Harry was showing no signs of being the same way. "Let's get you to bed then and we can be up early tomorrow and go to the aquarium."

Dudley cheered, happy at the thought that they would be going into town together the next day and Rosie grinned at the little blond boy before taking her other nephew up to their room to put him to bed.