An Invisible House
Hi. I've been reading Petunia Dursley fics and I've decided that I want to try one. I am sorry for those reading my iCarly story. I'm just not good at updating, I guess. Anyways, enjoy! :)
You've just learned that your sister is dead.
You warned her, you know that. You asked her not to go out and fight that Moldyfart or whatever. You knew that the Potter boy was just trouble. But she didn't listen.
She left with a question ringing in your ears. Why now? Why are you being nice now? She left a statement in your head too. I just can't trust you anymore, Tuney. You didn't and still don't blame her, but you wonder why. You'd made a pact with her that you'd always be sisters no matter what. Did she not remember?
Or did she believe that you hate her? Did she really think you meant all of those things you said from spite and hurt and jealousy?
It doesn't matter now, anyways. All that matters is that your sister is dead. Sweet Lily with her laughing green eyes and mass of red hair is gone.
You tell Vernon and your darling Dudders that you're going to go shopping and maybe gossip with some friends. Vernon accepts this without a second thought. Dudley can't understand, of course, but he still cries when you put him back in his cradle.
You don't drive to the market. You want to, you want to forget, but this is too important.
Instead of the market, you drive to Godric's Hollow. You drive to the place that you had previously ignored. Your sister's home.
There, you find her headstone. Lily Potter it says. Engraved into the headstone is your worst fear come true. Your little sister is dead. She's dead and there's nothing you can do about it.
You need to know more. You're certain that it was that Oldywart that did this. There could be no one else.
You know this, but you have to see the wreckage with your own eyes. You have to see the house where your sister lived happily until that day. Until Halloween.
So you walk to the address that you know by heart. You walk towards the place that your sister begged you to come various times. The place that you refused to go to because you were petty and Vernon didn't like James.
But when you're standing in front of the place where it should be, the house isn't there.
You check down the rows of homes and know that it should be there. It should be there!
Then you hear a couple talking beside you. The woman is wearing a red cloak while the man wears a violet one. They're staring at where the house should be with a sad look in their eyes.
"… such a young couple, too. I heard that they were some of the happiest people of their generation, despite the war," the woman said.
The man nodded before replying, "I knew James personally. He was always willing to go out for a firewhiskey, but his favorite part of every trip was coming home to Lily's shoving the baby into his hands and telling him that he was changing Harry's nappies this time."
You clutch your wrap tighter around your body and ask them what they are looking at.
The man gives an embarrassed cough while the woman mutters, "Muggle," under her breath, thinking that you can't hear or don't understand.
You feel like screaming.
This is yet another thing that your non-magical blood has taken away from you. This is yet another thing that you aren't allowed to do.
You turn on your heel and march away, your face flushed from anger and the effort of holding back tears. You can't hold them all, though, and a single tear falls down your cheek unchecked.
You walk back to your car and don't even glance at Lily's grave. You don't think you'd be able to handle a second look. A second reminder of what you've lost.
You decide right then and there that magic is to blame. Magic is the thing that took her away from you three times. Once when she got the letter. Twice when she left for the Potter boy. Thrice when Goldymart murdered her. Magic is to blame, and you will never forgive it. You will not let magic ruin your life ever again.
With that resolve in your mind, you drive to your home where your sweet baby Duddykins and loving husband Vernon are waiting. You never go back to the invisible house that broke your heart ever again.
