Inspiration:
"She [Petunia] stopped and looked back. For a moment Harry had the strangest feeling that she wanted to say something to him: She gave him an odd, tremulous look and seemed to teeter on the edge of speech, but then, with a little jerk of her head, she bustled out of the room after her husband and son."
-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, end of chapter 3
IMPOTANT: Separations made by –•–•–•–•–•–•– indicates a jump from the present to a memory, whereas –_–_–_–_– means that it's just a different memory.
I thought the story might be too hard to follow otherwise…
It was like a taunt, having to leave her house, her home, to run away from magic. It was like the world was reminding her: fantastic things are happening- horrible, but fantastic things. People who can change the world with silly words and little sticks are out having epic adventures, and she wasn't allowed to take part. She was being taken away from it. It was just like her sister's letter all over again.
But she'd had enough of it now. She hated magic, and she hated the witches and wizards everywhere who wielded it with a smug superiority. She would rather a life without having to put up with her sister's crazy lot anyway.
So they were leaving. Her Diddy-kins was going on about something having to do with the boy, some sort of confusion; Vernon was explaining it to him.
"They think I'm a waste of space, actually," Harry was telling the witch who was going to escort her family away from the wretched excitement. All magic was a waste of space, she silently agreed. "But I'm used to—"
"I don't think you're a waste of space."
If Petunia had not seen Dudley's lips move, she might not have believed it. What was her son saying?
Harry thanked him awkwardly, as if he too didn't know where Dudley's change of heart came from.
"You saved my life," her son explained.
Harry had saved Dudley two summers ago from the dementors, this was true, but how was he not angry that Harry had brought the dementors there in the first place? Harry and his lot. Harry and his magic. How could he stand there and thank Harry when it was his world that caused the problem in the first place. How could he think Lily's magic was fine.
Lily's?
Harry's.
How could he think Harry's magic was fine.
How could he not blame Harry for…
–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–
"For you," Lily said, handing Petunia her namesake flower.
Petunia took it grudgingly. "And where did you get this?"
"I made it. It's a simple spell for flowers. James likes to make whole bouquets for me sometimes." Petunia wasn't looking at her sister, but she could hear her smiling. She was so stupidly infatuated with her boyfriend.
"I thought you couldn't use magic out of school." She sneered, distastefully setting the flawless flower on the table like it was diseased. She knew Lily could use magic whenever she wanted now- She was seventeen. But she didn't want Lily to know she kept up on any of her lot's silly rules and customs.
"I'm seventeen now, Tuney," Lily explained, exasperated. She'd told Petunia a hundred times that she could use magic outside of school once she was seventeen.
Petunia snapped. "Don't call me that! I don't want your stupid nickname and I don't want you stupid flower! You think it's so romantic that your freaky little boyfriend can just pull those flowers out of nowhere? When normal people want flowers for someone they love, they have to go through the trouble of getting them! When Vernon buys me flowers, they've spent months being grown and tended to and prepared. But why put in the effort when you can just swish your little wand have whatever you want? You know what I think of your flower?" She forcefully shoved it off the table and stamped on it. "It's worthless. An empty gesture." And with that, she turned on her heel and left the room, not sparing her sister so much as a backwards glance.
–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–
Tears burst from Petunia's eyes. She quickly ran to Dudley. What a wonderful boy he was; accepting the boy, thanking him. Her wonderful son.
–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–
"Shall we invite your sister?" Vernon asked carefully.
"No." Petunia said with a sharp finality.
The two of them continued addressing their wedding invitations in silence for a long while.
"Just because, so long as she doesn't act… different at the wedding, it would be alright, I think."
Petunia put down her pen delicately and thought for a second- preparing her words. "My sister and I- we don't get along. There are many reasons."
Vernon nodded and grunted a sort of acceptance or agreement.
–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–
She cried into a handkerchief as her son and her nephew spoke some awkward parting word.
–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–
A letter came in the mail. Inside were a note and a picture of Lily and her husband with their newborn baby.
He's named Harry. He looks just like his father. I didn't think you'd want a picture that moves. If you would, I'd love a picture of you and your boy. What a wonderful name Dudley is. I hope he and Harry will be able to meet one day.
All my love,
Lily
Petunia tore the letter and the picture in half and threw it in the trash.
–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–
"…and one of my professors can turn into a cat! You wouldn't believe it! Without a wand even, she just does it!" Lily was gushing to her parents over the first Christmas break. She sat in the living room, stroking that filthy bird of hers and telling all these stories about the freaks she went to school with. Petunia marched up the stairs, determined not to listen to the stories of ghosts and elves and Animagi. She promised to shun even the words from her mind as she fell on to her bed and propped open a normal book with no moving pictures.
–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–
Her husband and son had both left the house now, and she stood, facing Harry.
–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–
She woke up early that morning. Her husband still had another ten or fifteen minutes of sleep before he had to get up for work, and her precious baby was fast asleep- which was a reprieve. Dudley almost never let her sleep the whole night through. He knew when he needed his mummy, and he wasn't afraid to tell her. She got up quietly, put a robe on over her nightgown, and went downstairs so start her husband's breakfast. She heard Vernon wake up over the sound of crackling bacon, and she heard him start to come down the stairs.
"Darling, have you fetched the paper yet?" He asked as he approached the door.
"No, Vernon, I didn't,"
In response, he opened the front door to get the paper. After a few moments, Petunia wondered why she had not heard Vernon come back and shut the door. Perhaps the delivery boy had done a poor job tossing the paper and Vernon had to walk to the curb. However, after a few more moments of silence, Petunia craned her neck to the kitchen door and saw her husband standing still at their home's threshold with the front door hanging wide open.
"Vernon?" She called. Vernon did not respond, and she became worried. She quickly removed the bacon from the pan and went to him. "Vernon, shut that door, what will the neighbors think of you just stan—"
Her words died as she saw the parcel on the floor in front of her and her husband. She recognized the baby. It was Lily's son. He slept silently on their doorstep. She quickly picked him up and brought him inside, ushering a still stunned Vernon back to the kitchen as she did so.
–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–
Dearest Petunia,
I'm so sorry to tell you that Lily and James are both gone. They died protecting their son, Harry, and now he has nowhere to go but with you. Please care for him as if he were your own; he has lost so much already.
Petunia didn't need to read the intricate signature; she recognized Dumbledore's handwriting from her short childhood correspondence with him. She had urged Vernon to get to work despite the shocking morning's events, and now she was alone with her sister's son. The boy moved in his sleep, turning slightly and opening his mouth.
The boy's parents were dead.
Her sister was dead.
Dead.
–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–
"How about next summer you just stay with some of your freakish friends at your freakish school!" Petunia yelled at her sister. "Normal people don't need your lot hanging around."
Her sister was crying. She didn't care.
–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–
Her sister was dead.
–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–
"We ought to keep him." Petunia told her husband when he came home. He looked a little shocked. She rushed into her justifications, "I'm sure somebody saw him this morning, how would we explain it! We don't have to tell him he's different, how would he know if we don't tell him? She never did. We'll squish it out of him."
Vernon nodded mutely.
–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–_–
Her sister was dead. She didn't care. She didn't care. She didn't care. She didn't want to care.
It was her own fault! It was fitting that all that nonsense would be the end of her.
–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–
Petunia looked at Harry. She saw Lily's eyes looking back at her. Exactly Lily's eyes. They were gazing quizzically at her. She almost said something to Harry, but it wasn't Harry she wanted to say it to. So she turned and left without another word. She joined her son and her husband in the car with the witch and wizard, and more tears escaped from her eyes as they drove away. She let Vernon and Dudley think it because of the loss of their home, but for the first time in her life, she cried for her sister.
I'm sorry, Lily. So sorry.
–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–•–
"Hey Tuney?" Lily and Petunia were lying on the grass in the park; they had been gazing up at the clouds and deciding what they looked like.
"Huh?" Petunia responded.
"You're the bestest sister ever."
Petunia smiled. "Nuh-uh. You are."
"Nuh-uh! I said it first!" Lily declared. She sat up, as if preparing to defend her argument, but it was unnecessary.
Petunia stood up and helped Lily to her feet. "If you say so."
Lily smiled wide, with a front tooth missing, at her sister, and Petunia smiled back. She took her younger sister's hand, and they started the walk home together.
Ok, I totally admit, I cried writing this. I'm a wuss- so shoot me.
Comment if you liked it! Or if you thought it was to confusing or whatever- criticism helps!
I'll likely write more stories like this if you guys like it.