-Disclaimer-

I do not own Harry Potter.

If you'd like to use my OC/SI, just ask.

Before I died, I didn't really have any expectations for death. It wasn't something I had given much thought to, and I had assumed that everything was on the table. Honestly, I hoped that nothing would come, that perhaps my consciousness would simply fade away.

For a while, it seemed the right answer.

Until I woke up.

I was trapped somewhere. I'd never been claustrophobic, but whatever small, dark room I was in drove me nearly insane. I tried to recall my life, and as I relived my memories, the uneasiness disappeared.

The place I was in was almost peaceful, in a way. I grew able to move a little, and the soft noises that reached me were familiar somehow.

The rest didn't last for long.

I won't go into details about birth because, let me tell you, it's one of the most stressful situations that I have ever lived through. All you need to know was that as soon as I realized that I had been reincarnated, I was screaming as loud as I was able to.

Allow me to clarify something: while babies can't see or move very well, their earing is nearly perfect at birth. That plus the nearly 6 years of English classes I had added to these words:

'She's beautiful, dear' said the black, fat blob. 'What do you want to name her?'

'Between Violet and Dahlia, I think the latter is much more refined. What do you think?'

'Little Dahlia Petunia Dursley is marvelous.'

I saw the first movie when I was ten, and read all of the books later. I knew this people. They would put Harry through hell and back, and I knew what my life would be like from now on. If I wasn't a 16-year-old in my mind, I would become a pampered brat, despite what some fanfics like to imagine.

I could only thank the heavens for being born in the most Muggle family possible, because there wasn't any chance in hell that I was a witch. I may love the Wizarding World, but a war against a muggleborn-hating megalomaniac wasn't on my bucket list.

It turned out that I had been born on the 27th May, before Harry arrived, so I had a lot of time alone with Mum and my new older brother, hooray. Petunia Dursley looked like a slim yellow blob to me, and Dudley was a fatter blob. He liked to pet my hair with his pudgy hands. It was odd that he actually appreciated me.

In my fifth month anniversary, Mum and Dad decided it was time to take a family portrait. When it was framed, Mum showed it to me, maybe to see if I would recognize them. My primitive mind made me giggle at it. I was more interested in my image, tough.

I was a thin baby, by baby standards, and a black mop of hair was visible. I was pretty sure that I had Mum's blue eyes instead of Dad's hazel, but it could be just the baby color. I had a round face that I remembered being described as Lily's shape. Perhaps I was more of an Evans than a Dursley in that regard. Dudley was round too, but that was because of fat, not of shape.

Two days later, Harry showed up at the doorstep.

There was an argument about what to do with him. At first, Mum placed him in Dudley's bedroom, having even bought a new cot for him, but he would wake up from nightmares screaming every night, and my brother couldn't sleep. He was moved to the cupboard after a week.

During my early childhood years, I stayed at home a lot. Mum teached me how to sew and take care the garden, ladylike activities, as she liked to call them. I didn't complain, and kept trimming the bushes with my small scissors, attempting to cut the right branches.

I would stay away from Harry. The poor boy already had too much to worry about, being poorly fed and constantly bullied by Dud, as I called big brother. He didn't need any more reason for a punishment. Dudley was oddly protective of me, something that made Dad red with pride when he found out.

'That's my boy' he said, ruffling Dud's hair 'A true Dursley gentleman'

I had quite realistic dreams the following nights of a fat Dudley wooing an elegant lady, and it was hard for me to forget that image.

When I was five, Aunt Marge visited for the first time in four years. All that I remembered of her was another fat blob (one that reeked of alcohol), but this time I had a good look at her. The woman was hideous, the kind that would scare the kid who likes to throw stones at unprotected children. She hated Harry.

It was the first time the boy used accidental magic. He was being persecuted by Auntie's dog, a terrifying little thing called Lala, and somehow managed to throw said thing to the roof of Dad's car, that was not only parked in the other side of the street, but also had the brand new sofa attached to it, so the animal got squished between it and the metal. He also accomplished to be scared enough to make sure that Lala got out unharmed.

Mum and Dad made his life terrible after that. I'm sure you don't need any details.

After my 6th birthday, I went to St. Helen Elementary School, in Little Whinging. My parents thought that their daughter should go to an all-girls school as early as possible, and I silently thanked every deity I could think of for not having to see Harry nor Dud all day.

My life was starting to feel safe. Mum and Dad would support me for as long as I needed, and Harry would be far away from me, along with his war.

Of course, it all had to be ruined when I managed to produce a single piece of accidental magic.

I liked being in the garden the most. Number 4 had the best flowers and bushes out of all Privet Drive, and the neighbors would sometimes just stare at it, trying to figure out its secret. I worked on it on my free time, which was a lot, and prided myself in keeping the roses watered and the grass trimmed.

One day, I was very frustrated. I had gotten tulip bulbs, planted them in October, but when spring came, they still hadn't blossomed. I picked up one to see if there was anything wrong with it, and when I hold it with both my hands, the petals grew and opened up one by one.

Needless to say, I was terrified. I knew immediately what had occurred, and in that moment I understood why the Dursley garden was so perfect.

I had been using magic in it since forever!

Mum tried to calm me down that night, my sobs preventing anyone from sleeping, and I grasped onto her nightdress, burying my head on her stomach. As much as I loathed it, I still loved Petunia Dursley as my mother, and the thought that in four years I would be dead to her was terrifying.

I didn't try to suppress my magic. It was a bad idea in every way possible, and would only put people in danger. However, I needed to learn how to control my emotions, to make sure that accidents didn't happen. If I really needed to vent, I would wait until I got out of the earing range of my family. Being a now 23-year-old helped a lot keeping track of it.

On Dud's 11th birthday, I had a playdate with a schoolmate, Myla Anderson. While I didn't particularly enjoy her company, Dad would need a free spot in the car to take Harry along, and Myla's house was just a two-minute-walk away. When Mum came to pick me up, she was still visibly shaking, and the dinner that night consisted of a one-course meal made out of bean cans.

The first letter came far too quickly for me, and the next few events were a blur. Dad decided that locking us in the house wasn't enough for the wizards to quit, and so we grabbed a few things and ran away.

The Shed in the middle of the ocean had gotten a new sofa, somehow, and Mum made two beds, one for Dud, who fell down asleep as soon as he finished his banana, and one for me, who couldn't quite do the same.

I knew that Dumbledore knew of my magic. It was a matter of time until I was exposed. I just didn't know if Hagrid would spill the beans or if I still had a few more months of safety.

I could hear Harry turning around in the ground, trying to find the best spot to sleep in. I attempted to make me look like I was actually asleep, not moving and not closing my eyes too forcefully.

A bang. It really sounded like the ocean hitting the rock. I would have assumed that if I didn't know any better.

Another bang. This time, it sounded like the shed was about to be destroyed.

The third one. I knew what was coming next.

The door fell down, and a huge man came through the hole.

Author's Note (April 8th 2018)

This is my first fanfiction. I most likely will not upload anything again. Even so, I would like to hear your opinion. Keep in mind that English is my second language, and please point out any spelling or grammar mistake. Constructive criticism is the best!