Repressed childhood memory

Harry was 3 years old and he was crying his heart out without being able to stop. In front of his eyes, his aunt was struggling to fit a small mattress into the cupboard under the stairs.

He did not want to sleep in the closet. He did not want to be locked in with the monsters that, in his child's imagination, inhabited those dark corners.

He knew he had been naughty, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't manage to follow the rules. He knew he shouldn't soil his sheets or wake his parents in the middle of the night... But how could he stop having that nightmare with the green light and the woman screaming? How could he not cry when Aunt Petunia yelled in rage upon finding him wet in the early morning? How could he not scream in turn when, one day, his aunt got so angry that she left him like that all morning, confined to his room and refusing to give him breakfast?

His aunt and uncle were right, he was a monster. But he didn't want to go into the cupboard. And he was so hungry.

Fortunately, the nightmare ended and Harry woke up with a scream. It took him several minutes to remember that he was 11 years old, perfectly clean, and in a large, bright room.

After the boggart scene, he was so ashamed that he ran to his room without a second thought. Once in his room, to avoid thinking about what had just happened, he started reading the latest volume of Dragon Ball. But overcome by fatigue, he eventually fell asleep and had that nightmare. What the hell was going on? Why had the boggart taken that form? His greatest fear couldn't be Aunt Petunia insulting him. And why had he reacted like that? And why did his damn subconscious refuse to let him move on and sent him that damn nightmare? It couldn't have really happened? His mother would never do that? Right?

But her thoughts were interrupted by knocks on her bedroom door.

Harry, are you awake, can I come in? Said the voice of his adoptive mother through the door.

Yes mom.

She entered the room and sat on Harry's office chair. Harry noticed that she was nervously rubbing her hands.

Hum Harry, I would like to talk to you about what happened this morning.

There's nothing to say, Professor Lupin must have made a mistake and brought me another strange creature. I don't know what it was, nor why it did that, but there's no point talking about it for 150 years.

Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't know you remembered how I treated you back then. I thought you were too young to remember.

Why? What did I do wrong? Harry asked with asmall voice

But nothing at all, my dear. It was me who had a problem. I really don't know how I could have treated you so horribly. I think I just lost it. In one year, I lost my father, my mother, had a difficult childbirth that left me sterile, and I had to give up my job as a typist. I had to take care of Dudley with the constant fear that the protections set by Lily weren't enough and that one of Voldemort's supporters would come to kill him. Do you know what it's like to live constantly in fear? To dream at night of finding your son dismembered. To hear again the screams of your father being tortured. To jump at the slightest ring of the bell. All because of the choices of my dear sister who never even admitted that she should have consulted us before getting involved in that cursed war. And then someone blew her up, and I inherited you. I was already struggling to take care of one child, and then I was handed an additional burden who kept asking where his mother was, and you started crying, so Dudley cried. And where was my mother?

Throughout this speech, Petunia's voice became animated until it turned hysterical. Then it suddenly dropped.

No Harry, I didn't mean to say that. You are not a burden and you never have been. I love you, my darling. She said, hugging him.

After a moment enjoying the hug from his adoptive mother, Harry asked.

If you really loved me you (...)

No, for the last time, I will not buy you a Game Boy. Video games are too violent and full of sex. They said so on TV.

But Dudley, he does have a computer.

A computer is not the same, it is a work tool. It allows you to learn. There is neither sex nor violence.

Even people banging their heads in frustration

A week later, Harry found a gift package containing a Game Boy on his bed. Despite Harry's hugs, Petunia felt bad. She knew she had to break this bad habit of spoiling herChildren every time she had a problem with them. She knew she was spoiling them. And even if she wasn't entirely sure, she knew that Harry was bottling up his emotions and that it wasn't good. But what could she do? How could she force him to talk about it? In any case, even she couldn't talk about that period.

The idea of seeing a therapist didn't even cross her mind. In her mind, it was the dangerous crazies who went to see a therapist. And anyway, how could she talk about what had happened to a complete stranger? So, as usual, she resigned herself to doing her best while knowing it would never be enough. And so life resumed its normal course at 4 Privet Drive. At least in appearance.

oOoOoOo

Author's note: The beginning of this chapter is inspired by the beginning of the fanfic:Une adolescence à St Brutus .