She stands at the very edge of the crowd, her thin face pinched and wary. She doesn't even know why she's here, of all places, among these people…
Mrs. Figg has agreed to watch Dudley… and the boy. She still finds it hard to believe the fact that he – her nephew – is now living at Number Four Privet Drive. She finds it even harder to believe that she's now standing here, in a wizarding village, populated by innumerous freaks, all gathering to lay her sister and her husband to rest.
You didn't know her. None of you. I was her sister.
Finally, they move away, in their cloaks and hats and ridiculous outfits, leaving the area vacant, and she dares to enter the churchyard. She's wearing a simple tan suit, a matching blouse and skirt, with a jacket to cut the early November chill. All their attire had been in more somber hues.
She stands in front of the headstone for a long moment, her breath creating clouds in the air, her arms hugged across her chest, hands balled into fists. She'd have to make something up to explain where she'd been to Vernon…
"So, here you are." She speaks at last.
"I read the letter Dumbledore sent. He told what happened. What you did. Why I have to keep the boy." Her sentences come out in short bursts, anger and bitterness clear in her tone.
"I'll ask this here and now, why did you do it? Why were you so stupid, Lily? Why?" She knows she won't get an answer, doesn't even care as she keeps talking, spilling out nearly a decade's worth of resentment.
"You didn't have to leave. You could have stayed, we could have kept it all hidden. You didn't have to go away, to learn to be a freak. And now look where it's all brought you."
She stops, her breathing unsteady. She swallows a few times. "I haven't forgotten, you know. How it was before. It wasn't enough time.
"I'll look after your brat, but I won't like it one bit. You hear me? He doesn't belong with us. He's not normal. He's just like you."
Just like you… She closes her eyes, remembering the day it all changed for the worst, on the playground, the swing-set, that boy coming out of nowhere…
Then, just as she's turning away, it's as if the memory's become life – a dark-haired figure, the Snape boy, older now though, approaches the grave.
She freezes, stands motionless, wanting to move away, but not wanting him to see her either.
But the younger man seems oblivious to anything around him. He stands silently, staring down at the stone, the freshly turned earth, and then his knees give way and he crumples in front of the grave, his shoulders heaving with sudden sobs.
Petunia, knowing for certain she won't be noticed now, quickly moves down the narrow path and out of the churchyard. As she reaches the lane, she whispers again, wiping her eyes, "Why did you have to leave?"