I Won't Let Him Forget, a harry potter fanfic

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me.

The streetlights were beginning to glow softly in the approaching dusk. She stood by the window, turning back the lace curtains to peer through the glass. But for once she wasn't studying her neighbors. No, she was straining her eyes to see the figure of a laughing girl, who she knew quite well would never appear. Never again.

"Mummy, mummy, look at me!"

Petunia Dursley turned away from the window and pasted on a smile for her fat son. Four and a half year old Dudley had been stuffed into an American Batman costume that made him resemble a shiny black sausage. "You look marvelous, Duddy," she said.

"He'll be the only one at the party with a costume that grand," Vernon boasted, ruddy with pride.

Dudley beamed. "I'll get lots more candy than the other kids with this costume," he bragged.

"Ten times more," Vernon promised.

Petunia forced a smile. "Well, you'd better hurry if you don't want to be late," she said.

"You sure you don't want to go, Petunia?" Vernon said, a bit wary. He knew full well his wife rarely missed social events, no matter how trivial.

"Just feeling a bit under the weather, that's all," she said. "I'll just go to bed early." She kissed her husband and her son. "Enjoy the party, pet."

She stood by the window and waved as the family car pulled out of the driveway. For a moment, she waited, half expecting them to turn around and pop back. But they didn't, so it was with quick, determined steps that she made her way to the cupboard under the stairs.

The little boy that no one spoke of was curled up under the sharp dropped-off ceiling, playing quietly with little bits of plastic figures that Dudley had discarded. He started guiltily at Petunia's approach; he dropped the figures as if he was expecting to be punished for possessing the castoffs.

Petunia held out her hand. "Come along, child," she said brusquely. "We have to go."

He blinked, his glasses slipping off his small snub nose. "Am I in trouble?" he quavered, eyes huge.

"No, but you will be if you don't hurry. Now come along."

"Come along, Lily!" Petunia said, stopping at the corner of the sidewalk. She put a hand on her skinny hip and sighed impatiently.

Her little sister ran after as fast as her legs would carry her. "I'm sorry, Tuney!" she wailed. "I just can't keep up!"

Petunia took her hand to walk the five-year-old across the street. "It's all right, Lilybet," she sighed. "I'll try to slow down for you."

"You could carry me," Lily begged, green eyes round and impish.

"You're in kindergarten now, Lily. You're too old for me to carry you," Petunia said.

They paused silently at the next corner, waiting for the traffic light. Lily hopped anxiously from foot to foot, her new shoes squeaking.

"Tuney?" she finally ventured.

"Yes?"

"I'm scared to start kindergarten." The green eyes began to fill up with tears.

"Oh, Lilybet," Petunia sighed. She stopped and knelt down to her small sister's eye level. "Don't be so frightened." She smoothed Lily's soft red hair, already escaping the confines of her braids. "I'll take care of you, understand?"

Lily nodded solemnly. "You'll always take care of me," she echoed.

The toddler ran to keep up with Petunia, taking two skipping steps to one of hers. "Where are we going?" he ventured, struggling to catch his breath.

"The cemetery," Petunia said, slowing down imperceptibly.

The little boy paused, mouth open in shock and horror.

"I'm not going to do anything to you," she said. "There's…someone we have to meet there. We'll have to stop here, though…"

"I'll not have that…that freak in our wedding!" Vernon Dursley roared, pointing at Lily. The sixteen-year-old's face had become white and unreadable, her green eyes nearly black.

"Vernon, she's my sister. My parents would have convulsions if she's not there," Petunia said. "She has to be there." She reached over and touched Lily's arm, the first time they'd had physical contact since Lily's eleventh birthday. The petite redhead was trembling.

"Petunia, how can you bear to touch that creature?" Vernon bellowed. He raised his fist to strike Lily; she stumbled backwards.

"Don't threaten her," Petunia said. "I know she's a freak, but she's an Evans."

"No," Lily whispered. "No…Tuney…I don't have to be at the wedding. I'll talk to Mum about it; I don't have to be there."

So Lily spent the rest of the summer at a friend's- a wizarding friend's- home, and missed her sister's wedding. But it was with malicious delight that Petunia included a single white lily-of-the-valley spray in her wedding bouquet.

Petunia reached into her purse for the money she had hidden from Vernon. "Two of those, please, and do you have any lilies-of-the-valley?" she asked the girl behind the counter.

The shopgirl frowned. "We don't got much call for those," she said. "Let me look in the back."

Petunia handed the other two flowers to the little boy. "Hold these carefully, and don't you dare crush them," she instructed.

He buried his small nose in the soft petals, breathing in the scent, and frowned. "This smells fam…fami…"

"Familiar?"

He nodded eagerly. "Familiar!" he repeated.

"You're in luck!" the shopgirl beamed, reemerging from the sweet-smelling depths of the shop. "There was some wot was left over from a wedding." She handed the tissue-wrapped flowers to Petunia and slipped a piece of Halloween candy to the toddler. "Here you are, love, you look like you could use a bit of a snack."

"Thank you," he said shyly, smiling angelically and twisting the foil wrapper in his tiny fingers.

"Come along," Petunia said again, tapping his thin shoulder lightly. "We still have a ways to go."

Vernon's arm was a heavy comfort on Petunia's shoulders as she stared, dry-eyed, at the two coffins. Softly she stroked the polished wood. It was time for the last goodbye to her parents.

The door at the back of the chapel creaked open. Petunia turned to see two cloaked figures enter. The smaller of the two turned back the rain-soaked hood, revealing a soft cloud of silky red hair caught back with a black ribbon.

"Lily," Petunia called quietly.

The girl looked up, tears clouding her eyes. She smiled tremulously at her sister. The young man with her turned down his hood and took off his rain-smeared glasses to clean them. He smiled at Lily, gave her a reassuring kiss on the cheek, and sent her off towards her sister as he cleaned his glasses.

"It's been a long time, Tuney," Lily said. Her voice was muted and thick.

"What's she doing here?" Vernon demanded.

"They're my parents, Vernon," Lily answered, quiet authority lacing her voice as she stood up to her sister's husband for the first time.

Unable to suitably demean Lily at the moment, Vernon turned on her companion. "This visiting is for family only. He's not allowed in here," he said.

"He is family," Lily said. She held up her left hand, displaying a slim gold ring. "This is my husband, James Potter."

"So you married that Potter boy," Petunia repeated. "When?"

"Just a few months ago," Lily said. "Mum and…" She swallowed. "Mum and Da came. It was the last…last time I saw them." She looked at the coffins, her green eyes pale and lost.

I'll take care of you, understand?

James slipped his arm around Lily's shoulders, his hand gentle and consoling as he gripped her upper arm. Lily leaned against him, pale and fragile as she let her husband support her weight.

But Lily doesn't need me, Petunia reasoned. Lily won't need me.

The gatekeeper at the cemetery eyed them warily as they entered. But Petunia wasn't planning Halloween séances or vandalism; she swept past him towards a gravesite she knew very well.

She stopped in front of a double marble tombstone. Two names were carved on it, two very important names. "Harry," she whispered, taking the small four-yearold by the hand. "This is where your mummy and your daddy are buried.

James Michael Potter, said one half of the tombstone. Lily Elisabeth Potter, the other half said.

Harry knelt between the two graves, running his tiny hands along the etched letters. His small, thin face was reflected in the mirror-like marble, his green eyes making circles of light on the surface.

Petunia received an owl on August the first. It was a note from James Potter.

Lily had the baby last night. She wants you to visit.

Vernon was out; he'd taken baby Dudley for a visit with Aunt Marge. So she followed the directions left for her and found her way to Saint Mungo's.

The wizarding hospital was undoubtedly the strangest place she'd ever seen, but the freaks who ran it were very polite- even though they kept referring to her as a "Muggle," whatever that was- and quickly directed her to Lily's room.

It had been a year since they had seen each other at their parents' funeral. Petunia wondered what she would say. For several moments she considered leaving straightway. But she'd made this far; she might as well make her suffering through the wizarding world worth it.

Lily was sitting up in bed, pale but smiling. Her husband was sitting beside her, and several other young men- James's friends, she presumed- were grouped around, adoring the baby in Lily's arms. One in particular, a handsome young man with bright black eyes, was hanging over Lily's shoulder and making faces at the baby, who merely blinked sleepily. Lily laughed, looked up, and her eyes met her sister's.

"Tuney!" she exclaimed, lighting up.

Lily's husband straightened. "Ah, I guess it's time for the girls to talk," James said easily, as if Petunia and Lily were the best of friends, not estranged sisters.

"But my godson!" the black-eyed boy protested.

"Sirius, he's just a baby. You won't miss anything," one of the other young men said dryly.

"We'll be back in a little while, Lilybet," James said, kissing his wife's cheek and his baby's forehead as he left.

Petunia still stood in the doorway awkwardly, looking anxiously around the room, wondering what to say. Lily was still smiling.

"Come see my baby," she said softly. She smoothed the blanket covering the infant's soft tiny body.

Petunia inched closer and peeped into the blanket. She was met with a drowsy little face still deciding whether to wake up or go back to sleep. His lashes were long and as jet black as the hair covering his tiny head. "He's beautiful," Petunia finally said, surprised to find that it was true. Of course, he was the child of Lily Potter, so he could never be ugly. "What's his name?"

"Harry," Lily said dreamily, pressing her cheek against the top of the baby's head. "Harry James, after his father."

Petunia studied her sister. Motherhood suited Lily. She seemed happy, content. Baby Harry snuggled against her peacefully, his small fist curled around her finger.

"Tuney," Lily said suddenly. "I need you to promise me something."

"What?" Petunia asked.

Lily shifted Harry as he began to rouse. "Promise me that if something happens to me, you'll take care of Harry."

"Lily-"

"It's only if something happens to me," Lily repeated. "You will never be able to love him as much as I do, but…" She smiled at the drowsy baby. "He'll need someone to mother him in my place."

"I promise, but Lily…" Her voice trailed off. Lily's eyes were like green bullets, but then they softened.

"I love my son," Lily whispered tenderly. The baby's wide green eyes opened; she kissed his soft round cheek. "I would die for him, that's how much I love him."

The tiny boy knelt between the graves. "H'llo, Mummy," he said. "H'llo, Daddy." He sucked in his breath. "I'm Harry, and I'm four." A tear slid down his thin cheek, but he swiped it away stubbornly. "Mummy, I…" More tears fell, staining the knee of his hand-me-down pants. His shoulders began to tremble, and his voice began to quaver. "Mummy…" Harry sobbed and curled up against the tombstone, pressing his cheek that spelled out his mother's name.

Petunia knelt beside him and touched her fingers to his lips. "Hush, Harry, hush," she commanded. "Don't be so loud."

"But my mummy!" Harry wailed. "And my daddy! I want my mummy and daddy!" He broke into the loud, rough, gut-wrenching sobs that only a lonely and frightened child can muster. His small fists railed against the cool stone and the sunken letters, scraping his soft knuckles until they bled. "Why did they go away? Why did they go away? Why didn't they love me?"

Petunia reached over and stroked her fingers through his dark hair; it felt soft and silky like Lily's had when she had brushed it smooth. "Your mother loved you, Harry," she said fiercely. "Lily loved you very much."

Vernon didn't even bother to pick up the baby lying on the doorstep. "Petunia!" he screamed. "Get down here!"

Petunia didn't pick up the sleeping child either. She reached instead for the note, feeling a twinge of foreboding in the tips of her fingers.

"She's dead," she said dully. "Lily. And her husband. This is their child."

Vernon's upper lip twisted in a scowl. "Send 'em off to an orphanage, then," he said promptly. "There's a good home just over in-"

"No," Petunia said. "No, we have to keep him here."

"Petunia-"

"I said we're keeping him here," Petunia said. She thrust the note in his hands and bent to pick up the little blanket-wrapped bundle. Harry was just beginning to wake up. His green eyes blinked and his small hands reached out.

"Mummy?" he said hopefully. His long lashes blinked rapidly. "Where Mummy? Where Daddy?"

Petunia pulled back some of the rough blanket. He was dressed in a little blue sleeper, with a weird shape, like a golden ball with wings, embroidered on it. Harry squirmed a bit. "Your mummy can't come, Harry," she said.

He screwed up his face. "Mummy," the fifteen-month-old said emphatically. "Mummy."

Petunia pulled the little boy close. "Sh, child," she said. "I'll take care of you for her. I'll take care of you for Lily's sake."

Harry's dark head rested against his aunt's knees and his small chest rose and fell regularly as he slept. The two flowers he had held were placed at his parents' graves. Petunia placed one hand on her nephew's head, and with the other she placed the lilies-of-the-valley on Lily's grave. "Goodnight, Lilybet," she murmured.

She carried Harry out of the cemetery. He stayed in a deep, exhausted sleep as Petunia carried him back to the Dursley house, dressed him in his pajamas, and tucked him into the mattress in the cupboard under the stairs. "Goodnight, Lilybet's baby," she whispered to the sleeping toddler.

But the next morning all she said was "Get up, lazy. Go do your chores."

She did her best not to look in the soft green eyes.

I'm sorry, Lilybet. But I promise I'll take care of him as best I can.

Author's Notes:

Hm…not too many words for this one.

I wrote this about three years before Deathly Hallows came out, so there may be some discrepancies.