My Handsome Boy

Chapter 1

Early in her life, Petunia learned nothing good ever came about when a doorbell chimed late at night. And the tiny bundle that was before the door this night, proved that point beyond a fact. Of course, she hadn't seen her new nephew more then a handful of times being so busy with Dudley. But there was little doubt, even if one didn't take into account the letter with her name in elegant script. Stuffed hazardously into the side, between blanket and basket. The same blanket that Petunia had gifted to her older sister Lily with, recalling the hours she had spent shopping in London for one with the colors of scarlet and gold. The required colours or so she was told, to indulge that frightful man Lily had married.

Yet that handwriting, ever so refined, wasn't Lily's or her husband James but belonging to someone far worst in Petunia's mind. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster to the terrible school that had broken them apart. The Old Goat that finally had lead Lily to her death, if one went by the slumbering baby on the step.

"Who's at the door, Petunia?" Came a voice from the hall, Vernon having gotten out of his chair after muting the telly. Concerned now, since he hadn't heard his wife shut the door or even spoke. Both odd with a late night visit, even more so with his wife's belief nothing good ever came with a ring past eight.

"My sister is dead..." Petunia spoke with a cold voice, as her heart broken even more.

With those words, Vernon rushed to comfort his wife with the expectations of seeing the police officer standing there and not a tiny wicker basket. The tiny child, wrapped in the blanket that took his wife so long to find. The same fine dark hair of his father, James Potter who had been so helpful when they had gotten married. Those cash gifts Vernon had gotten from James, helped with the down payment of the house, and the IVF treatment that Petunia had to endure for them to have Dudley.

"Luv, we need to get him in before Harry gets a chill." Vernon pronounced, in the gentlest voice he could manage. "We can mourn for Lily and James later, once we take care of their child."

Surprised at her husband's words, for he had disliked her sister as much as she disliked the man Lily had married. But both had tried to make it work, Vernon keeping secret the help James Potter had given them as Petunia had keep hidden the visits and letters with Lily. Each had thought the other had been belittling, Lily never really approving of Vernon as the one for her little sister. Same with Petunia, with all James annoying muggle questions when she had visited their home. But like many things in their past, Vernon and Petunia always found the agreeable middle after having gone to bed.

Seeing his wife pick-up the basket, Vernon hurried close to embrace her. Hopefully hugging the horrors away, doubts, and whatever other tortures Petunia's mind was inflicting on her right now. For Vernon remember when his own sister Marge had lost her first and only boyfriend, even husband if the man had lived. How devastating it had been, when that brave fool died in Northern Ireland. Marge's dogs did helped, but they would never repair what was missing in sister's once enormous heart.

"Maybe Marge could take him?" He asks, knowing it was shaky ground but willing to risk. "I know you don't always approve of her, but maybe raising a child could help Marge even more then her dogs."

"Part of me wish we could, but I doubt Dumbledore would allow it. And then there are my sister's wishes, how she warded our house... the money, her other things kept in the attic. My sister Lily was always the brightest, even more so in their world. She knew this was a possibility, even if that her atrocious husband of hers thought otherwise."

Again, Petunia felt that strange pull that her sister's child had upon her and many others. Harry without a doubt, was a very beautiful child and James spoke often about his son having some Veela blood through his grandmother's line. But being proper, Petunia had discounted it all and took the simple joy in Harry as Lily had with baby Dudley.

"So besides ours, that's why your sister enchanted the cupboard?" Vernon asked.

"I believe Lily would, a place he be safe from the monsters of her new world."

Six months ago, both had their doubts when Lily had shown up and made her request. But the hours she had spent under their stairs, in that once formally small space persuaded Vernon else wise. Once the little door was shut, the inside was the largest room of the house. Lily had told them on the last day, over that last meal Lily had at their house, the space was warded to the best of her ability using some designs she had found in some old Potter book. It won't stop the truly powerful like the Headmaster, but would keep out all others for a time till help could arrive.

"I wish I could just let him share upstairs with our Dudley, but the cupboard may be the only place safe enough for him now."

"Are you sure?" Vernon asked, thinking to the strain it would be to take care of two demanding infants so far apart.

"Could I do less for my sister?" Petunia replied, the tears now flowing. Her fingers, gently stroking his silky fine hair till it revealed the anger red mark on his forehead. A open sore, shaped like a lightening bolt and still oozing pus and blood.

"That Man!" She hissed in anger, not only dropping a baby at their doorstep without a word in the middle of the night but one that was injured. And with that, whatever doubts or worries Petunia had were washed away in her anger and sadness. Lily had always been considered the stubborn one in the family, few really knew it was the younger daughter. A fact Lily helped hid, even when she had been away to that pricey fancy school that lead to her death. More then once, it had been Lily taking the blame when Petunia became indignant over something. Mostly it would stop when the younger started feeling sorry for all the owls that would come visiting with mail to and from Hogwarts. Of course, Petunia never was punished as Lily accepting the lost of allowance or another book. For that was what a big sister did in the Evans Family, a tradition Petunia would uphold even more now that Lily was gone.

"I think Vernon, we need to visit the cupboard and see if my sister left any of their healing creams behind. I remember her talking about curses, and no doubt this one was far darker then a baby should endure."

At least, Harry was asleep and even at his worst was a happy baby. Only stopping at the side table near the door, one that Vernon was closing now and locking. Using the letter opener kept there, to push the unopened letter in the basket onto the table. Petunia wanted nothing to do with it now, or tomorrow, even the following days if possible. Having gotten a few howlers from Lily over the years, Petunia learned one way to deal with them. Once on the table, then she used the Tower of London opener to drag it into a metal tin she keep on the table just for these occurrences. Giving her husband a nod to finish, before Petunia continued to the stairs and the small door there.

"We fix you right up there, Harry. Maybe even a meal if you're hunger." Petunia coos to the sleeping infant, struggling a bit to stay that way now with all the activity and voices. "Your cousin Dudley was hungry tonight, but I should have enough milk now to spare you a drink or two, my handsome boy."

And with that, Petunia crawled into the cupboard as Vernon held the door open and hide his frown. For if his sweet Petunia was going to feed the child from her own bosom, the orphan child was here to stay no matter what his lines of reasoning where. He knew how obstinate she could be in one of her moods, and Petunia's now dead sister had always been number one with that list. Having learned early in their marriage, the pair of sisters could be at each other's throat but woe to any one else that tried to interfere. He still remembered his ears ringing for days, after he tried to support his wife in a fight with Lily back when they were dating. So back to the telly Vernon did went, read his paper and get ready for tonight when Petunia would be in tears. His sigh, mostly show for he did love his wife as much as James had Lily.

And that was something Vernon could understand, letting the sound of the telly fill the room with a show he no longer cared about. What came to the door tonight would only add more difficulties, yet even with a man like Vernon that was known for the same at work. Well, he would do the same and work twice as hard to make sure his wife never felt like her now dead sister had about him. For work was something Vernon could understand, from his boxing days and his time on the street without home or family.

So whatever came, he and Petunia would met it together...

Chapter 2

Once in the Room under the Stairs, the glow of the fireplace across the room. Petunia always found that rough carved over-sized chair comfortable, not that she told Vernon. The same with the cradle, carved by someone named Hagrid and had been a gift to the Gryffindor Pair before Harry was born. Having strange little animals carved about, like something from a storybook. Sometimes, she would even swore they moved but Vernon was never convinced. So sitting here, Petunia just waited for Harry to awake as she spread a little of the unpleasant-smelling cream about his forehead.

"Don't cry, my handsome boy." Petunia coo as Harry aroused pass the charm Hagrid had used and the fatigue of defeating a Dark Lord. The cream, even as foul as it smelled, did help with the pain the child was feeling. Lily was a talent with potions, and this was some of her best work.

"Are you hungry?" She asked of Harry, while undoing her dress. With the demands of Dudley, Petunia had gotten very practical in her clothing choices. Her nephew being smaller, she doubt he would drink that much before falling to sleep again. And bringing him up to a nipple, he latched on with little trouble and didn't even bite like her own did now.

And this was when it got odd for Petunia, while she always feel happy to feed her own son this way. Well, with Harry it was somehow different. She won't, or couldn't use the word pleasurable, but a feeling close to well-being grew in her chest and even dried some tears over Lily's death. It wasn't magic, for Petunia had learned about being under varies spells after she begged her older sister for demonstrations. For it was a secret Petunia could confess now, but she hadn't hated Lily's gift or talents, even when Petunia had nothing of both. But that School had taken her sister so far away from her, this suppose Magical World of Britain, she hated with the whole of her heart and even more so after tonight with what she found at her stoop.

Yet even that, this hatred that spent years growing was washed away in the blissfulness she was feeling by her nephew's feeding. Petunia couldn't understand it, nor did she really care as Harry nursed till his tiny tummy was full. With Dudley, she would had hummed but with sweet Harry such didn't seem necessary. A easy burp, and he was asleep again without any further effort from his aunt. But Petunia, she just sat in the chair with him till the sensation stop washing over her. Tomorrow she would worry about it after feeding Harry again, and working out a way not to panic Vernon or spend any less time with Dudley. But tonight, with all this sorrow in her heart, Petunia wanted to feel that deeper magics her sister always hinted about. Love in its full wonder, without filters, or walls. Or those stupid words that never fit.

And if that was what Harry could give them, Petunia would do anything to keep it. Even if it might be living a lie or keeping Harry's presence with them a secret. Already as she rocked his cradle, Petunia knew what would be expected by her sister's former Headmaster. Saw the problems Dudley would have with his cousin living with them, like it some bad American Film Drama. And Vernon, as the feeling of contentment faded, he would be the worst and the easiest. For his sister, had always been his Achilles' heel like Lily was hers. But with Harry, the better weapon then Dudley ever was, he would bring Marge around to a far better opinion about life and her choices as any sweet child could.

Shame that had to wait a few years, for Petunia doubt her sister-in-law would ever think of mothering Harry like she just did. But no matter, Petunia had a course laid out and something hopeful to lessen the pain of her sister's dying. So she sat and rocked till morning came, never once feeling tired as Petunia thought of Lily and what they shared.

The fights over Severus, then Lily going to a school that Petunia couldn't follow. All the letters she had written to it's Headmaster, and just the barely polite one she received in return. Those years, it hadn't been a cooling like their parents thought but a war between Lily and her. One fought with letters and owls, lies and accusation, of torn treasures and broken childhood promises. A terrible war, and one Petunia still regretted even after Lily's forgiveness a dozen times over. But she knew, in those dark places in one's heart. She had always been the worst sister, the evil sister in this tale, and nothing she did since or in the future with nephew would ever end that.

And so, in the feeble light of the fire and the cradle rocking. Petunia made her own Unbreakable, and do her utmost to raise Harry as Lily would wanted. She won't finish what the lunatic whom killed her sister started, nor would she return to the angry teenager she had been in the past. The promise was simple, even if her own son had to suffer, this handsome boy would want for nothing.

Even if it killed her, did Petunia affirmed to herself as Harry slept.

So when morning came, Harry awoke and after some more cream got his second meal from the woman sworn to be more then a mother. Her milk give him comfort, as did Petunia's words and touch. And for her, that strange joy and energy got her up and moving of for the rest of her family after she put Harry back down after a changing. The dirty nappy disappearing once dropped in the nearby bin. Checking him one last time, Petunia left the cupboard in the hopes the what she felt in there would carry to the rest of the house.

And with those thoughts, Petunia started on making breakfast. A chore she usually detested, but by the time Vernon finally appeared. Well, she found she had made too much for just the two of them. His favorites, plus hers, even a few of Lily's.

"Where were you, Dear?" He asked, wary for the moment and hiding behind his toast. "You didn't come to bed." His tone, wasn't accusing or even mundane and lifeless like when he talked about the rain. No, this was a husband's concern pure and simple. An act of love, and one now she could return more then tenfold.

"I fell asleep after feeding Harry, you know in that over-sized chair."

Vernon knew this wasn't the full story, but she must had slept some with all the energy his wife was showing. Fresh juice, pancakes, and even the special jam he loved. Of course, the last item she would had to buy prior and normally only on days he had done something worthy. Like being civil with her now dead sister, but Vernon didn't care as she went up to fetch and feed their own child. If this was the worst Little Harry Potter would bring to his house, he would be happy as he went about making his own lunch with the leftovers.

Happy indeed...