It broke Harry out of his shock, and he threw open the cupboard door, grabbing his wand before racing towards the back of the house with Hermione hot on his heels.
“Alohomora!” He jabbed his wand at the door he had always assumed was a spare closet, used for Dudley’s excess junk or the good linens for when Marge came over. Marge had made such a fuss about ‘the whelp’ putting his tainted hands all over her sheets and blankets that it had become the one place where Harry was not allowed to get into. Now he knew that Petunia had used Marge as an excuse, to keep him away. He stared down into the darkness, breathing hard.
“Lumos.” Hermione said from behind him, holding her wand up. “Be careful, Harry.”
Remus and Mari had appeared by this point as well, and the werewolf nodded grimly when the teen looked back at him. “Go ahead, pup. We’re with you.”
Taking a deep breath, Harry unconsciously squared his shoulders, lifting his chin slightly in defiance. Hermione lightly nudged his right shoulder with her left, reminding him that she was there, at his side as always. They moved together, years of practice under the invisibility cloak making their movements natural and seamless, even down rickety stairs.
The cellar was surprisingly sparse, and clean, although Harry thought that he probably should’ve anticipated that much – Petunia hated any sign of uncleanliness, even though it had meant her cleaning down here herself. Shelves lined the walls, with boxes, all neatly labeled.
Hermione slipped past him to get a closer look, moving down the line. “Harry.” Her voice floated out of the darkness. “Here.”
At the end of the shelving unit, there were a bunch of frames, all stacked facing the wall. Harry carefully moved the stack, flipping through until he found the one he sought.