Marlene McKinnon poked her head around the door from the kitchen. As Harry's green eyes caught her own, Marlene whipped her head back into the kitchen before slowly creeping forward into the living room. She felt laughter bubble up from her chest as the toddler giggled. Scuttling forward on her knees and stretching out her hands, she invited Harry to waddle into her arms. The dark-haired girl scooped up her godson, holding him close to her chest, one had cupping the back of his curly black head to her own cheek. Her cheek that now had tears slipping silently past on their way between them.
As soon as Marlene blinked away the tears, she found herself in Harry's nursery, clutching the small boy to her as he screamed out, his own gut-wrenching sobs drenching the sleeve where her elbow cupped his head. Marlene rocked Harry back and forth, alternating between humming an indistinct tune and shushing him comfortingly. The tips of her fingers danced a mournful waltz upon the curly wisps at the baby's temple. Harry's sobs subsided, fading into silence as his chubby hand grabbed at her neckline. His solemn eyes stared off into the distance, almost as if he were watching the door, waiting for James or Lily to walk through and scoop him up once more. The small boy finally drifted off to sleep, leaving his young godmother alone with the crushing weight of sadness clawing at her chest.
Marlene awoke to the sound of her own sobs elbowing their way past the thick lump in her throat.
Barely a hundred kilometres away, Petunia Dursley craned her neck around the edge of the door to the cupboard under their stairs. The last vestiges of sleep left her as her beady eyes took in the small form tossing about in the makeshift nursery's crib. For the first time, Petunia felt her heart crack in response to the noise that had initially interrupted her sleep. The small boy cried out in his sleep, "Mama. Mama!"
Lily. Though Harry Potter had the dark curls and features of his wild father, the eyes that had pierced Petunia's own when she found him wrapped up in a blanket on her stoop that morning were Lily's own emerald orbs. Before Petunia's heart could break clean in two, she steeled her jaw and turned away.
Even if they hadn't gotten on well in a very long time, Petunia had loved her baby sister. But now Lily was gone. She would raise her dead sister's son for Lily's sake, but Petunia Dursley adamantly refused to love the boy. He would only grow into a freak like his parents and get himself blown up as well. Petunia would not love the strange boy with Lily's eyes. She could not. She would only end up with her heart shattered.
With this final thought, the bony, angular blonde eased the cupboard door shut and padded back to bed, her heart grown a little bit harder.