The street was busy; full of frazzled people doing their last minute shopping, running around with woolly hats pulled tightly over their ears, hiding the curlers underneath, or holding great bundles of shopping bags, quite literally bursting at the seams.
'Oxford Street on the 23rd of December is hectic and totally unnecessary', thought Petunia Dursley, following her son down the street. She hadn't been in here in years although as a young child she had loved it. Her and her sister, Lily, had always enjoyed their Christmas outings. It was a great time to spy on people, pick out clothes they liked and make fun of the unfortunate souls who crossed the two sisters' paths. But that was in the past and there was no use thinking about it.
It had gotten worse recently, this wondering and reminiscing about Lily. She supposed it was due to Vernon dying a few years earlier and the disappearance of Harry so totally from their lives but still, it was taxing and heart-wrenching. The more she thought about Lily, the worse she felt about the person she had let herself be and Petunia Dursley was nothing if she wasn't proud. Trying to push all thoughts of rogue relatives from her mind, Petunia caught her son, Dudley's, arm and followed him in to a small shop.
Eight jewellery shops later and Petunia was worn out. Why she had let Dudley persuade her to come shopping two days before Christmas she had no idea but it was now getting late and she had had enough. Grabbing his arm she towed him out of the shop.
"There is no way we're going to find anything now, sweetie. Let's just head to that nice restaurant and come back in the new year. You have presents for all your friends and you don't need any new clothes so I think we should call it a day."
With a sigh, Dudley gave in and steered his mother down a side road. "It's not that, you know. It's the fact that I still haven't got anything for Clarisse and well, she's the one that matters the most."
Petunia looked over at her son, a small smile playing around her lips. He had grown up considerably in the last few years, so different now to the spoilt child she had raised and, secretly, she was ever so proud that he had turned out alright.
"We'll find something, darling. Maybe-" She was cut off with a jolt of surprise as she looked across the darkening street. A man was standing outside a shop window, carrying a small toddler in his arms. Even from this distance, it was impossible to mistake his messy hair and round glasses, green eyes peering out across the road. Evidently, Dudley had seen the same thing for, with a whoop of "HARRY", he charged across the street.
Harry visibly jumped, Petunia could see him frown and then his eyes widen with recognition as she too crossed the quiet road.
"Dudley, er, hi." Spotting Petunia he nodded his head and she was shocked at the change in her nephew. Gone was the scrawny boy she remembered and in his place stood a tall, broad man. Petunia shifted nervously and offered a stiff hello to him, staring rather curiously at the little boy in his arms. With a frown, she noticed his green eyes and the lock of messy black hair sticking out from the woolly hat he wore on his head. 'At least, her Dudley hadn't had children so young,' she thought 'they were both barely 20'. With wary eyes Harry noticed what she was looking at and rearranged the little boy in his arms.
"He's my godson," he said to Petunia's unanswered question, "His parents died in the war."
That shut her up good and proper and Petunia was suddenly reminded of the year they had spent in that awful chintzy house in Cornwall.
"Oh right," Dudley said, "You won, right? I mean, I know you did. Dedalus said but..." He trailed off and they were left once again in an awkward silence. Petunia could feel a funny choked feeling in her throat, looking at the baby boy in Harry's arms. He looked so much like Harry had and she was overwhelmed once again by that familiar feeling of guilt. Before she could think about what she was doing, she reached for the small boy,
"Can I, could I hold him?"
Harry looked at her, surprised, a flash of something like anger dancing in his eyes before it was gone. Saying nothing, he carefully transferred the child to Petunia's arms.
"How old is he?" She whispered.
"He's three," said an unfamiliar voice. Petunia turned around to find herself face to face with a tall, red haired woman, "His name is Teddy. Teddy Lupin and he actually has people that love him." The distrust in the woman's eyes was stabbing and Petunia felt herself immediately start to bristle. She watched as Harry laid a warning hand on the woman's shoulder and drew her close to him.
"Ginny, this is my aunt and cousin. Aunt Petunia, Dudley, this is my fiancée, Ginny Weasley."
Dudley smiled and offered a polite hello but the red head's cold look didn't disappear. Harry sighed and offered his aunt a wan smile. "Here, shall I take him back?" She nodded mutely and passed Teddy back to his godfather, realising with a shock that the hair poking out from under the hat was now red.
With the unmistakeable feeling of missing something, she took Dudley's arm, "C'mon love, we should get going." Nodding to Harry and Ginny she waited for Dudley to say his goodbyes and then pulled him across the street.
She was trembling ever so slightly as she glanced over her shoulder to watch the young couple. Ginny's laugh echoed down the street and Petunia watched as Harry pulled her close, dropping a kiss chastely on to her lips. In the rapidly darkening light, they could have been any normal family but Petunia was reminded suddenly of a moment nineteen years ago when her and Vernon had stood on a similar street and she had looked over her shoulder to see James Potter swirl Lily Evans around as their little baby boy laughed. She turned around and was quickly swallowed by the twilight, feeling reassured in an odd, unsatisfying way. Harry was going to be just fine.