A/N: I sincerely apologise for the lack of updates on my other stories, but I am studying for exams at the moment and will be more or less out of action still until mid-June, then I hope to finish them. In the mean time here is a one-shot I have been writing on my study breaks...

Upside-down world

The alarm next to Vernon Dursley's bed went off at six o'clock in the morning, as it did every other day. He rolled over, hitting the OFF button on his alarm clock. Beside him, Petunia was stirring as well. Vernon got out of bed and stretched and made his way to the bathroom to begin his morning ritual. Petunia also got out of bed and put on her dressing gown and slippers and shuffled to Dudley's room.

Her son was her pride and joy, and she spoiled him. It made her feel good to shower treats and gifts on the fat little boy's head. The tot was standing in his crib, chubby hands gripped around the bars. When he saw her, he raised his little arms out to her, demanding to be picked up. She did so immediately, knowing that he would cry if she didn't. She carried him back to their bedroom and laid him on the bed, tickling his tummy, smiling as he giggled gleefully. She proceeded to get dressed, carefully picking out a long blue dress and a pearl necklace and earrings. She had inherited the pearls from her mother when she died a few years before.

Vernon came out of the bathroom, already mostly dressed, hair slightly damp from a shower.

"Morning, Petunia dear," he said, planting a quick kiss on her cheek. He leaned down and blew a raspberry on Dudley's cheek, who again giggled gleefully.

"Morning Vernon," replied Petunia. She reached over and did Vernon's top bottom of his shirt. "Sleep well?" she asked casually.

"I did indeed," he said a bit distractedly. "I have a very important meeting this morning with the other partners. We are making quite a profit at the moment," continued Vernon, picking out a grey tie and putting it on. He continued talking about work until Petunia picked up Dudley and the three of them went down to the kitchen for breakfast.

While Petunia and Vernon ate their breakfast of bacon and eggs, and Dudley threw his porridge all over the place, Petunia told Vernon about the batty-looking lady two streets away that moved in the day before with all her cats.

"I hope she keeps those bloody cats to her own garden. I don't want those mangy creatures anywhere near here," she said huffily.

"She has cats?" asked Vernon, suddenly looking up from his morning paper.

"Yes, plenty of them."

"Oh. Good," said Vernon, looking somewhat relieved. Petunia looked at him curiously, but didn't comment. She collected the glass milk bottles to put them out for collection and headed for the front door. Vernon glanced at his watch and stood up abruptly. "Is that the time? Good heavens, I am going to be late for my meeting."

Petunia opened the front door, glancing at the other houses in case she could catch a glimpse of any of the neighbours, when she heard a strange sound near her feet. She looked down – and screamed. There, wrapped in a bundle of blankets, was a tiny baby. She nearly dropped the milk bottles, but held on to them so as to not injure the baby. Vernon hurried to her side to see what had caused her panic.

"Good heavens!" he said, his face paling. "Who would be so irresponsible as to leave their baby on our doorstep?" he asked, rather irritably. Petunia, ignoring him, placed the bottles on the step next to the child's head. She deftly scooped up the bundle into her arms and carried it silently into the kitchen. "What on earth are you doing?" spluttered Vernon, standing in the doorway.

"Vernon, I cannot just leave a baby on the doorstep. Besides, what would the neighbours think?" she snapped at him.

Vernon looked annoyed, but said nothing. "I am sorry, Petunia, but I have to get to work. I am going to be late as it is."

"Alright, have a good day dear," said Petunia, not looking up from the face of the baby in her arms. Vernon huffed and stalked out. She heard a door slam, the engine roar into life and drive out of the drive way. The kitchen was silent save for Dudley's sniffing following his earlier tantrum. He was watching Petunia, quietly sucking his fat thumb.

After a moment, Petunia unwrapped the blankets around the baby and a letter fell out. The boy woke up, but curiously did not cry. Petunia was momentarily startled by the child's bright green eyes and the angry red cut on his forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt. She picked up the letter that had fallen to the floor.

Petunia Dursley

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

The letter was addressed to her in flowing, elegant writing, writing she was uncomfortably familiar with. She broke the purple seal and opened the letter slowly, dreading what the letter might contain.

Dear Petunia

I apologise for the unannounced gift left on your doorstep last night, but there has been a terrible tragedy. I am afraid I simply cannot put this any other way. On the 31st of October of this year, two nights ago, your sister and her husband were murdered in their home. This little boy is their son, Harry.

The man that killed your sister has been terrorising Magical Great Britain for some years now, driving fear into the hearts of us all. Nobody has been able to stop him, until he tried to kill Harry. I still am unable to figure out why this has occurred.

I believe that a certain kind of magic has kept him alive, the magic of love. Your sister died protecting Harry, and so that very powerful magic will only hold if he is kept by you, his blood relative. This magic will only hold until the day he turns seventeen, upon which time he will be of majority. It is of the greatest importance that you look after him.

I have arranged that money be put into your account every month to pay for clothing, food and Muggle education until he attends Hogwarts.

Again, I am terribly sorry for your loss.

Regards,

Albus Dumbledore

Petunia stared at the letter, her face pale. She did not want to believe that the words in the letter were true. Lily had been murdered and this boy, her son, had survived. This boy had stopped a murderer. Her sister was gone.

She looked into the silent boy's eyes, and this time, she started sobbing. She had been jealous that her sister had gone to that magical school, but not because she could do things Petunia couldn't, but because she had lost her best friend. Lily and Petunia had always been close, until that Snape boy told her about magic. It was then that her sister had drifted further away from her, having less and less time to spend with her.

Petunia hugged the baby close to her, this last reminder of her dear sister. Dudley, who had been quiet up until now, started screaming again, throwing his spoon at his mother. Evidently, Dudley didn't like this other baby being hugged by his mother, but she ignored his indignant cries.

After cradling the boy for a few minutes, she decided that the past was the past, and there was no use crying over spilt milk anymore. She knew that she really had no choice but to take the boy in, knowing her sister would do the same for her, despite their differences. She stood abruptly and placed the cooing baby on the table, for lack of anywhere else to put it, and set about feeding him, wanting to return to as normal a life as she could possibly manage given the new circumstances.

Vernon arrived home at five o'clock, and Petunia was already beginning to make supper. She heard him open and close the front door, and schooled her features into her usual uninterested look.

"Hello dear," she heard Vernon call from the entrance hall.

"In here, Vernon," she called back by way of greeting.

"I have to tell you dear, I was quite –" He stopped mid-sentence as he entered the kitchen, catching sight of the second child sitting in a new high chair. "Petunia," he said slowly, "what is that child doing here?"

"Oh, this is our nephew, Harry. He is going to be living with us from now on," she replied, nonchalantly, not turning around from the food she was making. Behind her, she could hear Vernon stuttering and she knew he was losing his temper.

"What? Why can't those Potters take care of their own child? Are they such bloody irresponsible layabouts that they have to thrust their brat on us?" he ranted, his voice rising quickly.

It was then that Petunia spun around to face him. "My bloody irresponsible sister is dead, Vernon," she spat, feeling the bile rise in her throat. "They were murdered. We are going to keep Harry because he is family. This is the only place he can be protected. I want to hear nothing more on the subject." She never raised her voice, but Vernon paled as though she had.

She turned around and resumed her cooking. Vernon glared at baby Harry, and ruffled Dudley's hair. Dudley was poking his cousin as though he were a strange object.

"Well, I'm not forking out anything from my pocket for that boy, that's for sure, especially not if he is one of their lot," he mumbled after a moment, pouring two glasses of wine.

"You won't need to. They will be putting money in out account every month for him," said Petunia, obviously having calmed down a bit. "How did your meeting go, dear?" she asked, changing the topic. Vernon seemed glad of the chance, and began telling her of his success at work that day.

It was only during moments alone did she allow herself to think of her late sister, and feel the regret of not having had a better relationship with her. She hated the magical world for taking away her sister, and she didn't like having this boy as a constant reminder of that. But she wanted to honour her sister, and looking after the boy was her way of doing it. When he started showing signs of magic, Petunia knew. She had seen it with her sister. After these strange things started happening around the house as the boy grew up, she felt that pain of disappointment once more, the sense of loss and the reminder that her sister had chosen magic over her. She didn't treat the boy well, but she kept him all the same. He was her sister's son, after all.

A/N: There is a mention of Dumbledore's handwriting being familiar to Petunia. There is discussion on the internet that they had maintained contact about Lily. The point they make is that Dumbledore, in his howler to her, says REMEMBER MY LAST, implying they have had contact before. It doesn't really make much difference to the story, but in case you were confused...

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