A/N: Hey, guys! So, this is just if Petunia ever visited the Potters' graves... Kinda like my other story, A Bloodred Sky, so if you haven't already read that, check it out! Also, this is a ONE-shot. There will not be more. So, don't follow the story, because, well, there's no point. But, anyway, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Those rights go to J. K. Rowling.

James was grinning as Lily laughed at his joke. They were each sitting on their headstones, in the graveyard of Godric's Hollow. They had told Sirius that they just wanted to check on one of the new residents in Godric's Hollow, since there was a war going on, but in reality, if Lily spent another moment in the same room as Sirius, James was pretty sure the afterlife would blow up.

Perhaps literally.

"Ah, James," Lily gasped. "I'm so glad we have these Sirius-free moments."

James pouted. "Padfoot isn't that bad. You just got used to him not being here."

Lily shrugged. "I know you're right, but at least tell me that you sometimes miss it being just the two of us."

James grinned. "Of course I do, Lils. I love you."

Lily glared at him. "Don't call me Lils. And I love you too, Jamesie."

James scowled. "If Sirius weren't already dead, I'd kill him for coming up with that."

Lily chuckled. James joined in, and pretty soon, the two of them were howling. That was the nice thing about being dead, James thought. You could laugh as loudly as you'd like, and nobody scolded you, simply because they couldn't hear.

Out of the corner of his eye, James saw someone move. He turned to look properly, and what he saw made his heart stop- or, it would have, had it still been beating.

"Lily," he breathed. "Look who it is."

Lily, confused, turned to follow his gaze. Her whole body grew still. "Petunia."

James wasn't sure whether she was angry or happy. Sometimes it was hard to tell with Lily. Especially when it came to Petunia.

Petunia Dursley, née Evans, looked horribly out of place in this graveyard. Her expensive winter cloak, a pristine white, didn't have a speck of dirt on it, and she was doing her best to keep it that way, despite the frozen ground that was slightly muddy in some places. She wore the same disapproving expression she had sixteen years ago, when he had last seen her. Eventually, she reached their graves, standing stiffly before them. James and Lily simply stared.

"Right," Petunia said curtly. "During the summer, Vernon, Dudders and I were forced out of our home by your kind, and sent into hiding."

James snorted. "I love how she's complaining about her family being protected." he grumbled. Lily shushed him.

"But-" Petunia faltered. "But last time, your war ended with your deaths. I- I don't want my family to be touched again. Even your son. He... it's because of him that everything's been so dangerous lately. But I'm no fool. I know that if we weren't his relatives, those Order people wouldn't be hiding us. I know. I don't want him dead. I don't. He's your son, and I know you love him every bit as much as I love my son. I know, had our roles been switched, I would have died for my Diddykins."

James, despite the stunningly sweet atmosphere, had to hold back a snigger at that one. His poor nephew.

Petunia stared at her hands. "I can't love your son. It's too late for that."

James felt a surge of anger at her words. They hadn't asked Petunia to raise Harry. Had it been up to him, Sirius would raise Harry in his absence, and if Sirius couldn't, Remus would. If Petunia and Vernon had died, and he and Lily got stuck with Dudley, they'd have raised him like a son. But here Petunia was, saying that just because she detested magic, she refused to care for their son-

"But I don't hate him. I hate his magic. I hate how he reminds me of the two of you. But I don't hate him."

James blinked. Lily let out a strangled sob. James threw an arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer to him.

Petunia seemed to stare right into Lily's eyes as she whispered her next words. "I don't hate you or your husband, either."

Lily's lip trembled, and James fought down the urge to lighten the mood with a joke, realizing that it wouldn't be well received.

With a shaky hand, Petunia reached into her coat and withdrew a slightly crushed lily. She placed it at the foot of Lily's grave. She knelt in the snow, the knees of her coat dampening. "I suppose I came here to ask- if Dudley leaves Vernon and I-" Petunia sniffed, her eyes filling with tears. "Will you take care of him? Up there? All I want is to keep him safe." Her fingers traced Lily's name on her headstone almost reverently. "I know you will. You were always a good soul. I never hated you. Jealous, maybe. But never hate. Not you. Just your magic. Please love him. Like I failed to do for your son. If I ever see him again- I'll do my best to make amends. I can't love him. But I can stop treating him as the son of two magic-folk and begin treating him as Harry. I can only hope that's good enough."

It is, James wanted to say. That's all we've ever wanted.

Lily placed a hand over Petunia's. "I look forward to meeting my nephew. And for what it's worth- I never hated you either. Hated your small-mindedness, perhaps, and the way you treated me- but never hate you."

As if she had heard, Petunia sniffed, and nodded. She turned to James' grave.

"I never liked you, Potter, and I won't pretend I do." James appreciated her honesty. "But the more I hear about you, the more I realize that- that you were a brave and honorable man, and you would have been... an interesting brother-in-law."

James smiled. "And you, my dear Petunia, are still a baffling sister-in-law."

Lily let out a watery laugh and wiped at her eyes. "Peace," she murmured. "I've made peace with my sister. At last."

"Until I see you again... Lily. And, James. Lily, I... look forward to our next interaction." With that, Petunia Dursley walked away, leaving a weeping Lily and strangely touched James behind her. One day, the three of them would meet again. And while their relationship was far from alright, what mattered was that all three were willing to try.

The Potters and the Dursleys may one day be family by more than just blood. And, surprisingly enough, Petunia had been the one to take the first step.