xi. is it too much to ask?

Dudley looked awed and about to say something, when Stella butted in. "Should I go next?"

"No!", Dudley said loudly. He knew that it would hurt, didn't want his mother subjected to that. "I'll go first!", he said determinedly.

Stella looked shocked. "But why? Dudley, you know that it'll hurt, right? Do you really want to go first?"

"Yes, Mum! I'm a big boy, I can do that! I'll go first!"

Stella still looked like she wanted to protest, but Harriet came in between. "Aunt Stella. He'll have to go eventually, so why not let him go first? Even if you go first, you can't prevent him from having to go eventually."

Stella nodded defeatedly. She knew that her niece was right. "Alright..."

She flung her arms around Dudley and hugged him as tightly as motherly possible, before stepping back and holding him by his shoulders. "You be careful, alright? It'll hurt, but I believe in you. You're a big boy, you can do it." She wiped her eyes with her hand and Dudley did too, but he nodded and hugged his mother.

"I'll be okay, Mummy! I promise!"

When Dudley left, Stella broke down in sobs. Her little boy went first, just to make sure she wouldn't hurt first. Harriet moved forward and hugged her.

"It will be okay, Auntie. I'm sure of it. And besides, it may hurt, but after it's done he'll be completely great! No blocks or anything on him. Remember what those compulsions did to him? They made him hate work! He'd be so horrible at school with that spell. And then the hate towards magic and preference for violence and tantrum-throwing. Why do you think so many kids in the neighbourhood were always beaten up?"

Stella gaped at Harriet at that. "That was Dudley? Just because all those compulsions Dudley beat up children younger than him and blamed it on you? And you're right, he would be a horrible student."

Dudley was back after only half an hour and instantly ran up to Stella, hugging her almost to death. "It hurt so much, Mummy!", he sobbed into her dress.

Stella hugged him back just as fiercely. "But it's over now, Duddykins. Everything's alright again, yes?" Dudley nodded violently, and Stella let go of her son. "Good. Then I'll go to get cleansed now. See you later, Duddykins, Yetti!"

Dudley cried out in protest as he watched his mother leave with Griphook, but Harriet only stood there, gaping after Stella. Nobody had ever called her Yetti. Always Harriet, Harry, Harriet Potter, Potter, or the Girl-Who Lived, not to mention the Woman-Who-Won. And then there was also Mrs. Weasley, Professor Weasley and all those other titles and names she's got.

But at one name, and she only remembered it now, she grimaced in disgust. Ron had always called her Harry-Jelly. And she liked it.

"She- she called me Yetti…", she whispered in disbelief.

Dudley turned around. "What?"

"Aunt Stella. She called me Yetti. Nobody has ever called me that, Dudley…", she said, still gaping at the door.

Dudley ran forward and threw himself at Harriet, clutching on his old clothes that he'd outgrown and now hung loosely on Harriet's small frame.

"I'm sorry, Ha- Yetti. I'm so sorry for beating you up so often and always blaming everything on you!", Dudley cried, realising what he had done.

"It's okay, Dudley. That wasn't you. That was the potions and spells that that Dumbledore guy put in and on you. Really, it's alright. I forgive you", Harriet said, also hugging Dudley back.

It really wasn't every day that you travel back to your six-year-old self to find yourself with your hateful family that really isn't all that hateful, after all. So, after finding out the truth, Harriet wants to forgive them and make the best of her current life. Meaning, changing her name and making sure Dumbledore knows that he's messed up.

When Stella came back in after Griphook, Dudley and Harriet were already impatiently sitting and waiting at the table. Dudley really wanted to know what was up with Harriet and why her name was Weasley, and Harriet just wanted to finally change her name and put her past as Harriet Jamila Potter-Weasley behind her.

"Mummy!", Dudley cried as he flung himself at Stella, hugging her so close Harriet thought he might just suffocate her.

"Hey, sweetie. Hey Yetti."

"Did it hurt bad, Mummy?", Dudley asked and Stella shook her head.

"Only a little bit." That was a lie, but how do you tell a six-year-old how bad it hurt?

"Good!", Dudley said and pulled her to the table. "Now I want to know why Harriet is called Harriet Weasley!"

"I think I'd like to know that as well", Griphook stated. "I know that you are not as old as you say you are, Miss Potter-Black, but I don't know why that is." He raised an eyebrow and sat down at the table again. "So if you would care to elaborate?"

Harriet was nervous, so she just burst out with it. "I'm from the future. Aunt Stella knows already, I've told her today. It only did happen today, actually. I've actually lived my life already, 36 years of it, and I thought it was great, but turns out it was all a huge lie."

Griphook raised an eyebrow, but that was really the only sign for him being surprised about it. Stella knew some things already, but not everything. And Dudley…

"You're 36?!" Dudley turned to Stella. "How old are you, Mummy?"

Stella smiled amusedly, but even she was shocked. "I'm 28 year old, sweetums."

Dudley turned back to Harriet. "You're older than Mummy!" He deflated a little. "But why did Mr. Griphook call you Mrs. Weasley?"

Harriet drew a shaky breath before continuing. "I was married. I married at 18 years old, barely out of school, but everyone wished for it, and I just wanted to meet expectations. I had friends, sure, and my name made me famous in the magical world, but that would stop whenever I had my own opinions.

So I learnt to adapt to the others and just do what they expect me to do. Be Harriet Potter, the Girl-Who-Lived, the person killing the Dark Lord Voldemort, the person marrying into the Light Weasley family, the person with mediocre grades, the person who always forgave everyone for believing rumours. I married Ronald Weasley, had three kids with him, I became a teacher at Hogwarts, but then I was killed by a 12-year-old! A mass murderer tried to kill me since I was a year old, and a 12-year-old managed to do it! And then I die, I land somewhere between Life and Death. There was Death's daughter telling me how much I fu- managed to pull myself down.

I found out that my mother had a sister who was killed by a tree on Hogwarts grounds, and that my dad had a sister too, who died from the same tree! The tree that was planted illegally, and the tree that almost killed so many children! I found out that my husband dosed me with love potions, that he cheated on me with four other women, one of whom was probably my only real friend and got raped by him!

And I'm sick of it! I'm sick of my life, sick of being Harriet Jamila Potter! Don't get me wrong, I love my parents, and everyone else, but…I don't think I could cope knowing that I'd have to be the Wizarding World's saviour again, knowing that I'd have to be on guard every time Dumbledore could be spying on me or what I'm doing! If I continue being Harriet, I'll never be able to live a peaceful life. I just want to have a childhood for once, find wonderful friends that aren't being paid with my own money, fall if love with a person that didn't dose me with potions! I just want to have life without a senile Headmaster stalking me and spelling potions and blocks on me! Is that really too much to ask?!"

Harriet hadn't even realised that she was yelling at the goblin, her basically-aunt and basically-cousin until she was finished with her rant. She was panting and sat back down with a deep sigh escaping her lips.

"Is it really too much to ask…?", she whispered to nobody in particular, but to everyone at the same time.