Title: Her Sister's Son
Author: C. Sebastiene
Warnings: Spoilers for all seven books.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Petunia Dursley née Evans clutched her small son tighter to her breast as she exited the bus into the crisp, chill November air. With a slight shiver, she glanced up at the small building before her, verifying the name of the café before opening the door. She let out a sigh of content as she entered the café, the warmth of the room a sharp contrast to the chill outside. Patting her son's back softly in an attempt to soothe him, for he had started whimpering in his sleep, Petunia craned her long neck forward, searching for the person whom she was supposed to be meeting. Catching sight of a head of thick, dark red hair, she stepped further into the café and approached the occupied table where a young woman sat holding a tiny baby with a full head of messy black hair, a steaming mug of coffee on the table. The young woman looked up as Petunia's appearance cast a shadow over the table.
"Petunia! Please, sit down." The young woman spoke in a soft, happy voice. "I wasn't sure what you'd like…" She was interrupted by a teenage girl walking up and asking Petunia what she'd like to drink. Ordering a coffee, Petunia sat down across from her sister, adjusting her son in her arms.
"Hello, Lily." Petunia did not sound nearly as pleased to see the other woman. The truth was Petunia and her sister did not much get along, had not, in fact, spoken for nearly two years, and Petunia couldn't possibly think why her sister had suddenly requested they meet.
"How've you been, Tuney?" Lily asked warmly, lifting her mug with her free hand and taking a slow sip of her coffee before setting the mug down.
Petunia, for her part, wrinkled her nose at the childhood nickname. "Quite well, I should say. Vernon's just been promoted."
"Has he, then? That's wonderful news. And I see you've had a son, he's simply darling." Lily peered at the sleeping boy bundled tightly in a soft blue blanket, smiling brightly."
Petunia's eyes softened as they gazed down at her small son. "Yes, he is, isn't he? His name is Dudley, named for his father's grandfather." Petunia smoothed her son's wispy blonde hair, smiling softly at him as he sleepily opened his eyes. The teenaged girl who'd previously taken her order returned, placing a steaming coffee mug on the table, and Petunia nodded her thanks.
"How old is he? He looks to be about the same age as my Harry."
"Mm, he's five months old; born on the twenty-third of June." Petunia murmured, stroking Dudley's cheek gently as he cooed.
"Just a month older than his cousin, then; I had Harry on the thirty-first of July." Seeming to sense that his mother was speaking about him, the little boy in question opened his eyes and drowsily peered up at his mother, who leaned her head down to place a kiss on his forehead.
Petunia lifted her gaze to her sister's son, unable to keep a slight smile from her face as she looked at the little baby. "He's rather precious, although he doesn't look much like you as far as I can tell." She commented.
"No, no, he takes after his father. His eyes have started to change colour, though, and I think he'll have inherited my eyes." Lily shifted her son in her arms so that Petunia could see his face and his wide, bright green eyes.
Petunia gave a short nod. "It seems he will have our mother's eyes. What did you say you'd named him?"
"Harry, Harry James Potter. He's named for James' father Henry who died just a week before he was born," Lily replied.
Petunia seemed to grow uncomfortable at the mention of her brother-in-law whom she'd never met and abruptly changed the subject. "As charming as all this is, I doubt you invited me here merely to introduce me to your son."
Lily, sensing her sister's discomfort, nodded. "You're quite right. Petunia, there's something important I must discuss with you. I doubt you'll care to hear it, as it involves the wiz—my world, but I want you to know."
Petunia paled. She glanced around them quickly, trying to see if there was anyone nearby that could have overheard anything her sister had said, but they were in a far corner of the café and there was no one sitting near them. She gave a jerk of her head that Lily took to meant she could continue.
"Last year, the headmaster of my school overheard a prophecy while he was interviewing a woman for a position at the school. This prophecy contains information about the one who could possibly be the downfall of Voldemort. You remember me telling mum and dad about him?"
Petunia's brow furrowed, "Isn't he the dark," she cast another furtive glance around them before continuing in a hushed tone, "wizard who was gathering followers while you were in school?"
Lily gave another nod. "Yes, but he's gotten much more powerful. Our world is in a state of war, but things are getting worse every day. Anyway, Albus told James and me that the prophecy he overheard could only refer to two children born at the end of July, to parents who have thrice defied the Dark Lord - my Harry or the son of a friend of mine from school." Lily took a deep breath, gazing down at the baby in her arms who was watching his mother with alert eyes, as if he could sense that something was wrong. "The prophecy states that this child will have the power to vanquish the Dark Lord once and for all. For this reason, Albus recommended that James and I take Harry and go into hiding."
Petunia frowned, not understanding everything her sister had told her. Dudley gave a loud whimper and Petunia rocked him, trying to shush him. "But how could a mere child have the power to defeat this, this Voldemort, if he's as dangerous and powerful as you say?"
Her sister shook her head, sighing heavily. "I don't know, Tuney, but Albus believes the prophecy to be true. There is no doubt one of the children it could pertain to is Harry. James and I have spoken openly against the Dark Lord and have fought his followers. We've defied him three times, as spoken in the prophecy. To refuse to go into hiding would put Harry into even more danger; we must keep our son safe."
"Fine, but why did you feel the need to involve me in this? Surely this Dark Lord won't seek out my family?" Petunia asked, suddenly fearful. The coffee lay forgotten on the table in front of them.
"No, I don't think so. Granted, any muggle is open for attack from him, but that's not why I wanted, why I needed to speak with you today." Lily fixed her eyes upon her older sister. For years, she'd looked up to her with respect and admiration. They'd been close once, even though Petunia distanced herself when Lily's magic had begun to reveal itself. Their relationship had been irrevocably damaged when Lily was accepted to Hogwarts. Still, Lily felt nothing but love for her older sister and it saddened her that they had never sought to repair their relationship. "Tuney – Petunia, you're my sister. I know we don't - I know you don't like me or my world but you… you're family. Albus may say that it isn't certain which child Voldemort will go after, but, Petunia, I have this awful feeling that he'll target Harry and I'd do anything to keep my son safe, even die." Lily's brilliant green eyes were wet with tears. "And I couldn't go into hiding knowing that the last time I ever saw my sister, my only sister, we left hating each other. I just couldn't, Tuney."
Petunia held her sister's gaze, alarmed to find that her own hazel eyes were rapidly filling with tears. For years after Lily was accepted to that school, Petunia had tried to act as if she didn't have a sister. She pretended that Lily didn't exist during the summer holidays and only spoke to her if she had no other choice. She'd not bought her sister a Christmas or birthday gift in ten years. She ignored any letters Lily sent her. And yet, it seemed that Lily held none of the same spite for Petunia. Her little sister… was speaking again.
"This is going to end badly, Tuney. I feel it deep in my bones. James' best friend, Sirius, he's Harry's godfather and if anything happens to James and me, Sirius will take care of Harry. But if for some reason Sirius can't take him in… Harry would be safest with a direct blood relative. So many protective wards are based on blood, and they are so much more powerful than standard wards. Petunia, I have to ask…" Lily trailed off. It was obviously important, whatever it was that she wanted to ask Petunia, but she seemed to have trouble continuing. Her cheeks were stained with tears that her eyes had refused to hold any longer and she was holding Harry tightly, staring down at him as if he was the only other person in the world. After a very long silence, Lily lifted her head to look Petunia in the eye and spoke again.
"I have to know that my son will be safe, Petunia, if anything happens to his father and me. My question for you… if things end how I fear they will, if Voldemort attacks and Harry somehow survives, will you take my son into your home? Will you care for him when I cannot?"
Petunia tore her gaze away from her sister and stared down at her nephew, who was squirming in his mother's arms. He was barely four months old, but his head turned and Petunia stared into brilliant green eyes that seemed to pierce her very heart and soul. She looked down at her own son, who had fallen back asleep, oblivious of the serious conversation his mother and aunt were having. As she regarded her sleeping son, Petunia waged an internal war. Her nephew would no doubt be just like his mother and father, just as abnormal. He'd show signs of magic likely before he could walk or talk. And he'd be offered a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry when he turned eleven, just like his parents had been. But the little boy in her sister's arms, reaching a chubby hand up to tug at his mother's long hair didn't seem so different from her Dudley. He was, for now, just a child. A child who, it seemed, may well be destined to defeat the most evil wizard the world had ever seen. Petunia's eyes found their way back to her sister, and she was hit with the sudden certainty that the younger woman did not have much longer in this life. And Petunia knew that, if their situations were reversed and she was begging her sister for help, Lily would not hesitate to take Dudley into her home.
She made a quick decision and nodded. "Yes," she said simply.
Lily stared at her sister as if she'd never seen her before. She knew she would have to ask Petunia, but she never truly expected her sister to agree to care for Harry if she was unable to. Tears coursed down Lily's face, splashing her son's rosy cheeks as he looked up at her. His tiny face scrunched up in a tell-tale sign he was about to wail, and Lily rocked him instinctively. She lifted her free hand to her face and wiped her eyes, a watery smile creeping across her youthful visage.
"Thank you so much, Petunia. You can't understand the relief it gives me knowing that my son will be safe and well-cared for should anything happen to his father and me."
And when Petunia Dursley opened her front door on the morning of November 2, 1981 to find baby Harry on her doorstep, she screamed. She screamed because Harry on her doorstep meant that her little sister was dead, that things had come to pass exactly as Lily had feared they would. Not waiting for her husband to run downstairs and see what was the matter, Petunia scooped up her sister's son, who'd begun to cry after she screamed, and carried him into the kitchen. Her husband, Vernon, arrived downstairs moments later demanding to know "what the bloody hell she meant, shouting like a nutter at half-six in the morning!?" Petunia, cradling Harry, whose tears had stopped, explained to Vernon that her sister was dead and they were taking her baby into their home. It was one of the few times she'd truly been able to stand up to her husband.
After a while, it became apparent that Harry was definitely his parents' son. Vernon, after witnessing Harry displaying signs of his 'freakishness', tossed the toddler into the cupboard under the stairs, and nothing Petunia said had convinced him to let the boy out. He never slept in a real bed after that. Vernon refused to spend any more money than was necessary on Harry, so he got all of Dudley's old things, although the boys were no more than a month apart. Petunia distanced herself from her nephew, all the while knowing that if Lily could see the sort of 'care' her son was receiving at her sister's hands, she would hate Petunia forever. Over the years, Petunia refused Vernon every time he suggested they send Harry off to an orphanage, usually after Harry exhibited bouts of accidental magic.
Petunia could show Harry no affection or love, else it set Vernon off, so she watched her sister's son from afar, inwardly worrying and fearing for him. She thought he would find happiness at Hogwarts, where his parents had met, and that he would be safe there. However, at the end of his first year there, she received a letter from Albus Dumbledore telling her that Harry had nearly been killed trying to rescue some philosopher's stone, but not to worry, he was safe. Petunia had fretted for days. At the start of his second year, there was another letter informing her that Harry and some friend of his was flown, of all things, an illegally enchanted car to Hogwarts. She'd been furious at his stupidity, ranting while Vernon was at work about the danger he'd placed himself in. The end of that year, too, brought more bad news. Some chamber had been opened and Harry's life had once again been in danger; he'd fought some baslist, or baslisk or something like that. When she saw on the news that the dangerous murderer Sirius Black had escaped from prison, she was in shock. Wasn't Sirius the name of Harry's godfather that Lily had mentioned? Another letter came from Albus Dumbledore in June. It appeared that Sirius Black was innocent and Dumbledore thought she should know. That summer, when Harry told Vernon about his 'murderer godfather,' Petunia chose not to tell Vernon about the letter she'd received from Harry's headmaster, because for once her husband didn't treat Harry as awfully as he usually did under the threat that Sirius might come after them.
Petunia thought that she'd heard rather enough of Albus Dumbledore and that she'd be happy if that blasted bird of his never delivered another letter to her, but Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts delivered more letters than she'd ever received from the old man. One telling her about some wizard's tournament Harry'd been mistakenly entered into and one after each task in the tournament. Petunia had been sick with worry, fearful that her nephew would end up dead at that bloody school of his. She'd been relieved at the end of the year when Dumbledore's letter told her Harry had survived the tournament safely, horrified when she read that Harry had seen a classmate die. Her sister's son was more withdrawn that summer, and it was all Petunia could do not to reach out to him. The incident with those Dementors, the soul-sucking guardians of the wizarding prison that awful Snape boy had told Lily about so many years ago, had Petunia more afraid than she'd ever been. She had never expected her own son to have to face the horrors of his aunt's world. Hearing that the wizard responsible for the death of her sister was back was horrible. Harry's fifth year passed without any letters at all from Albus Dumbledore, something for which Petunia was eternally grateful. But that summer, her nephew was more withdrawn than he'd ever been. He barely left his room at all and Petunia worried over his health, mental and physical, for it seemed the boy didn't eat either.
At the end of Harry's sixth year, Petunia received a letter from Minerva McGonagall, telling her that Albus Dumbledore had been killed by Severus Snape. Harry came back to their home seeming more determined and powerful than he ever had before. Something had definitely changed about the boy. Petunia knew, thanks to Dumbledore's visit the previous summer, that the protection her home provided Harry thanks to his mother's sacrifice, would end this summer. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Arthur Weasley had shown up at her home and informed her that she and her husband and son would be taken to a safe location. She wondered where that meant Harry would go. Petunia was inexplicably touched when her son showed the same worry. Just before they left with Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle, Petunia turned to look at Harry and opened her mouth to say something. She wanted Harry to know that she never hated him all those years, however she may have treated him as he was growing up. She wanted him to know that she hoped he would be safe and happy in the future, and that he'd grown up to be a remarkable young man, a young man his parents would have been proud of. But a lump rose in her throat and she found herself unable to say anything, so she settled for a simple 'goodbye' and left.
That year, she had no idea what was happening with her nephew or whether he was safe or not. She heard about the final battle at Hogwarts through one of the members of the Order of the Phoenix, and was overwhelmed with relief to hear that Voldemort was gone once and for all and that her nephew was safe, finally truly safe for the first time in years. Several weeks later, she drafted a letter to her nephew requesting a chance to meet him at some point in the future to talk with him. They met and she told him all of the things she'd wanted to as he was growing up. She told him about her last meeting with his mother, how Lily had requested that she take care of Harry in the event of her and James's deaths. She told him how she had worried about him every year while he was away at school. She told him, for the first time in his life, that she was proud of everything he'd accomplished. And Harry, proving that he was his mother's son, graciously forgave her. They forged a sort of friendly relationship, meeting one Sunday a month for tea. She attended his wedding to Ginny Weasley and got to meet his sons and daughter as they were born. Despite the downs, and definitely because of the ups, Petunia Dursley née Evans never once regretted that she had accepted her sister's son into her home all those years ago.