Petunia Dursley watched from the upstair window of Number 4 Privet Drive as Albus Dumbledore disappeared with a loud crack leaving Privet Drive as it had been before. Silence reigned as Petunia glanced up and down the street looking for any sign that someone or something else had decided to visit Privet Drive.
Several Minutes later Petunia Dursley let the curtain slide back in place before turning and making her way downstairs. Ignoring the front door she made her way to the kitchen where she found what she was looking for. Looking around she sighed knowing that she would no longer be able to pretend that the magical world didn't exist as she had done for some time now.
Quietly she made her way to the front door of the home, and unlocking the dead bolt she stepped out into the night closing the door softly behind her.
The letter that Dumbledore had left was written in an elegant script large cursive letters that swooped and wove like an intricate spell explained to Petunia the situation.
Dearest Petunia
It is with a heavy heart that I must tell you that your sister Lily and her husband James were murdered last night by Voldemort. Young Harry was found alive and now I ask that you take him in and provide him the love and care that he will need. When it is time he will be introduced back into the world of his parents. Please take care of him as he is very special.
Yours Truly
Albus Dumbledore.
Petunia snorted at the letter feeling a tickle travel up her arm and into her heart from the letter.
A Spell.
Petunia set the letter in the small basket where the tiny infant was now sleeping. She brushed the hair away from his forehead where a lightning bolt cut rested most likely from the attack that had robbed the boy of his parents.
Picking up the basket Petunia turned and walked to the gate in the yard. Turning and taking one final look at the house she had lived in for a few years. It was hers before she got married but now it would be her husband Vernon's and her stepson Dudley's. Neither would remember her being a part of their lives just as the neighborhood would never remember her not even the squib that had just moved in this morning.
A slender 9 ½ inch elm with a basilisk heart core slid into her hand seemingly out of nowhere. The obliviation spell swept through the town erasing any memory or record of one Petunia Dursley. With an inaudible pop Petunia and Harry left Privet Drive and allowed the silence of midnight claim the small town once again.