Petunia cradled the squirming baby carefully, glad that Vernon wasn't around to see her giving so much attention to her nephew. She checked the temperature of the milk and then held the bottle to Harry's mouth, hoping he would take it. He protested for a moment, his face twisting into a grimace. She persisted, holding the nipple to his mouth until finally he opened his mouth. Petunia gave a small sound of triumph at this and she glanced over at the cradle where Dudley was currently napping. It was a rare treat when Dudley wasn't awake and eating and she was grateful that her sister had had a quiet baby.
She moved across the kitchen toward the table, both of her hands still occupied and gazed at the letter lying open on the table. Purple handwriting on thick parchment explained everything in a polite and almost threatening way that made Petunia wonder if she had any choice in the matter. She was almost afraid to touch the parchment again – to read the words written on it – for fear of picking up some taint of magic. It was bad enough that she was holding the baby. She wondered for a moment if some magic had been used on her to make her so willing to take Harry into her home, to fight with Vernon to keep him, to ignore Dudley's screaming in favor of calming Harry.
"Impossible," she murmured loudly to the empty kitchen and she very nearly set Harry down, determined to ignore him, fearful of some magic spell that this Dumbledore person had cast on her to make her care for him.
Shaking her head, she clutched Harry tighter. This was the last remains of her sister, she reminded herself, and nothing but an innocent child. Vernon would train the magic out of the boy and she would never have to suffer the pain of losing someone else to that school's cold stone.
Harry's eyes opened and gazed up at her. They were all ready a startling familiar green. Petunia felt her throat tighten and with a disgusted sound, she walked deliberately to the cupboard under the stairs and lay Harry down in a blanket lined basket that had been emptied the day before. She took the bottle with her and, ignoring the cry that she wrenched from her nephew, closed the door.
You couldn't lose something you didn't have.