A tall blonde-haired man was walking down a relatively unexciting street in Surrey as he traveled from one potential apartment building to another. He had been looking for somewhere to stay for a few days after being dismissed from the hospital he had been in. He paused for a moment to wonder why he had been in the hospital, but the information slipped quickly away from his grasp and he shook his head to clear it, deciding it didn't really matter anyway.

Oh yes! That was it! I had forgotten so many things! What did they call it? Alicia? Ambrosia? Amnesa? Well, whatever it was, I'm through with it now

Proud of his conclusion, he cast a keen eye over the playground equipment in a lonely park as he passed by and shook his head at the rust and peeling paint. If he did end up living in this particular neighborhood he would certainly need to fix it up a bit. He simply couldn't be seen living in a place so near to this rusted pile of junk.

I'd just need to find a willing wizard to 'assist' me with the task so I could say I had done it, he found himself thinking before he could stop himself. He often heard that strange voice in his head coming up with strange things, but had grown to appreciate the voice's presence. Not only did it seem to really like him, but the things it said were always new and interesting; it came up with a world of magic and wizards that commented on the strangeness of seemingly normal things. Naturally most people would find it annoying that such a voice spoke in their head at times, but Gilderoy found its presence a rather nice form of company.

Gilderoy turned a corner to walk down another street. Privet Drive read the sign. He studied the name for a moment, wondering if Privet Drive was even a proper name for a street before shrugging.

"Private certainly isn't bad," he said to himself. He continued walking down the street, taking in the neat, identical houses with their bright green, neeatly trimmed lawns.

His eyes passed from one to the next, rather unimpressed. "What's the point of owning a yard if you don't make it stand out?" he muttered to himself, shaking his head. It was then, as he was searching for some sort of deviation between the seemingly cookie-cutter houses, that he ran into someone, sending them both to the ground.

A bucket of weeds was spilled over the two of them and both let out a shriek of surprise at the sudden fall.

"Who do you think you are?" The other person, a rather skinny woman with a long neck, hissed at him while glaring at his gleaming sky-blue shirt. "You should be watching where you're going!"

Gilderoy blinked rapidly, trying to collect himself. He wasn't usually so unobservant, so didn't know what he should say. Deciding to turn on his charm, he started while smiling in what he thought was an understanding manner. "I'm so very sorry for bumping into you like this, Ms.-"

"Du-Dursley," the woman said, stuttering for a moment before composing herself. "Petunia Dursley."

"Very nice to meet you Ms. Dursley," Gilderoy said, holding out a hand for her to shake. "Gilderoy Lockhart, at your service." She shook his hand carefully, and as soon as she let go he began to pick up the weeds that had been scattered all over the ground.

"Oh no, I can get those," Petunia said in a flustered tone. "You don't have to-"

"Ah, but I do," Gilderoy said, flashing her another shiny-white grin. "After all, I simply can't let such a charming woman toil on her own."

His comment seemed to startle Petunia. She looked taken aback, though a light pink flush grew on her cheeks. "I-if you insist," she said hesitantly, climbing to her feet and brushing her pants off gently.

Gilderoy soon had the plants back in the bucket and he stood up, handing the bucket off to Petunia. "There you go madam." He offered the bucket to her, nodding his head respectfully.

"Thank you," said Petunia, taking the bucket from him.

"It was absolutely nothing," Gilderoy said extravagently, waving his hand. "It was my pleasure to be of service."

He meant for that to be his final greeting, so prepared to walk away. After only a step however, he heard Petunia's voice from behind him.

"Won't you stay for tea?"


Petunia Dursley had no idea what had come over her. Her day had started out as many days had after Vernon's death from a heart attack. She had gotten up to cook breakfast while watching the news, ate, washed the dishes (it seemed like there were hardly any with only herself in the house), cleaned every surface in the house (it was simply habit), eaten lunch and then gone out to listen to the gossip of the neighbors while weeding the garden.

She knew her house was simply too big for her - a single mother whose child was already married and who was living off her husband's retirement funds - but she couldn't get herself to move away. She had built a family in the house and she couldn't bring herself to give up the last remaining memories of her husband that seemed to be ingrained in every square of tile, every inch of each room.

Petunia had turned to a rather simple life, one with a set schedule and routine that she followed, to gather her mind after her husband's death. She lived a life free of abnormalness or strife, and was perfectly happy with it.

What had thrown off her usually structured day was a quite tall man with bright blond hair, a bright blue shirt and bright white teeth. She had written him off as a klutz at first glance - as someone who fell over his own feet and who would certainly bring trouble to the nice, plain life she had created for herself. After only a few moments, when she had actually taken a moment to look at the man and listened to what he had to say, she decided that she had to restructure her opinion of the man. Indeed, he seemed perfectly charming and, if she let herself admit it, even a bit handsome.

He was perfectly polite, and even well-spoken. He- Gilderoy was quite the gentleman and even insisted on helping her, causing her cheeks to flush. Gilderoy reminded her of Vernon when they had first met. The death of his parents in a gas explosion only a few years after she had been married to him had hardened him and made him more determined to succeed with whatever he needed or wanted to do. The cheerful man she had known was gloomy and depressed, turning to his job and, more than ever, food as a distraction from the world. He only was brightened by herself, his son or his sister.

"Won't you stay for tea?"

Petunia could hardly believe the words had come out of her mouth. She was a widow, and surely late fifties was too late to have a second husband? Or even to date? Especially a man she had known for all of five minutes.

But she had offered, and he had agreed. So she led him inside only half-reluctantly and put a kettle on the stove.

I might as well make the best of it.


One week later Petunia sat at a table in a local cafe, waiting for Gilderoy to arrive. Despite her dubious thoughts of Gilderoy and, certainly, of having another man live with her, they had made another 'date' (for lack of a better word). Petunia had suggested the place, as Gilderoy was apparently new to the area, and he had agreed. They had hit it off rather well over tea at her house, spending almost three hours simply talking about themselves, their professions, and their lives.

She had described her childhood (though had left her freak of a sister out of it. She didn't want to scare him away during their first meeting!), even coming clean about her marriage, son and recent widowing.

She had learned that Gilderoy had, until only a week prior to their last visit, had been in a hospital for amnesia. At first she had been rather worried about his mental health, but he had assured her that there was nothing to worry about - that the doctors had given him a clean bill of health and there was no lasting problem due to his condition. He did seem to simply stare off into space occasionally, but far from worrying Petunia about him she thought it was almost endearing to see that kind of innocence in a man only a few years younger than her.

Their talking had gone on until Gilderoy insisted he had taken up enough of her time and really needed to get back to apartment-hunting. So they had scheduled a meeting, and here she was.

Petunia checked her watch, but her head snapped up as his voice spoke from behind her shoulder.

"It was eleven, wasn't it?"

She jumped, just holding back a shriek, and spun around. "Um, y-yes. Yes it was. I was just checking the time."

"I do apologize for being a bit late," he said, frowning slightly. "But I found these in the window of the flower shop around the corner and simply had to get them." He pulled his hand out from behind his back.

It was a small bunch of flowers - petunias in pinks and purples and orange-gold marigolds.

"Thank you!"

"Certainly it was no trouble at all!"

"But you really didn't have to-"

"I wanted to," he said, winking and sending a wide smile her way.

A waitress came by and they placed their orders (she simply got a cup of chocolate hazelnut tea while he got an iced caramel latte) and they caught each other up with their weeks.

After what felt like only minutes (though it was indeed nearly an hour), they ordered a small lunch and continued their talk, sharing their views on everything from gardening to politics. Petunia did most of the talking, Gilderoy having been in the hospital for so long, but they still found common ground. They soon scheduled another get-together for a week later and went their separate ways.


Five months later, Petunia found herself dressed in a pure white gown for the second time in her life. There was no father or father-in-law to walk her down the aisle, so Dudley had agreed to fill the void. When she had told him the news he had been surprised by her actions, but very supportive. He had agreed that she needed to move on instead of staying in their old house, and even though he thought Gilderoy was rather a strange fellow there was no doubt that he was good for his mother and that she was good for him.

The processional played, and Dudley led her into the small chapel. Neither she nor Gilderoy knew many people, so it was a rather small wedding. Marge had come, along with Colonel Fubster and her friend Yvonne. Dudley's wife and young son had come as well, but that was about it.

But Petunia, though in life before Gilderoy had come around would have wanted a great spectacle with fancy lace and many guests (even if she didn't know most of them), found herself enjoying the small wedding. Gilderoy had changed her view of life for the better and, as she saw him standing with the minister, waiting for her, she felt a spark rekindle in her chest. It was, dare she say it, simply magical.


So there it is, a Petunia/Gilderoy fanfic. Pretty sure it's the only one out there... Hope you liked a little bit of fluff! :D (It's also the first time I've tried to write romance, so tell me how I did)

This fic labors under the assumption that Lockhart's memory loss was so severe that he was basically shunted to a muggle hospital and treated for amnesia. So just a tiny bit AU, but I think it worked out well. Lockhart is also a halfblood in this universe, so he would have grown up with at least a basic knowledge of the muggle world. :)

Final word count: 1,969 words, written for The Fanfiction, School of Imagination Competition: Science Assessment 2, Compounds [Flerovium and Silver]

Thank you for reading! :D