Those Emeralds

Petunia Dursley was bustling around her squeaky clean kitchen making breakfast for her husband and son. Bacon and sausages were sizzling on the stove as she poured the last of the milk out of the milk bottle and into her son's baby bottle. Dudders was growing up so fast, she mused as she carried the empty milk bottle towards the front door to put it out for the milkman. Soon he would be talking fluently and-

Petunia's thought were interrupted when she opened the door and very nearly treaded on the small bundle in the basket that was lying on the front steps leading up to her door. She stood frozen for a whole minute, staring at the wrapped up child, before letting out a shrill screech and stepping back in horror, clutching the material of her dressing gown near her throat.

Petunia watched the little boy's eyes flutter open at her scream and felt her own eyes widen as her gaze met the bright emeralds. She knew this boy; knew who he was though she had never laid eyes on him before then.

Harry Potter blinked at her as she took in the rest of his appearance, her eyes coming to rest on the lightening-bolt scar lying under a tuft of jet black hair- that hair. Petunia did not know what this thin scar was or how the baby lying on her doorstep had gotten it but she knew that it could not mean anything good.

"What... what is it?" Vernon Dursley panted from behind her. She jumped at the sound of her husband voice, not having heard him come downstairs.

Petunia pointed a shaky finger at the basket on their front door and whispered, "Lily."

Vernon turned his eyes downwards until they came to rest on the little boy, now playing with his own fingers.

"Leave him there," he hissed as he too came to recognise the unforgettable green eyes. Then, his piggy eyes darting up and down the quiet Privet Drive, he muttered, "No, no... people will see..."

He glanced at Petunia who was still pointing at the baby though her lips were now pursed in confusion. Vernon bent down and picked up the basket holding the little boy (who gurgled a laugh as he was lifted into the hair) and Petunia moved out of the way for him to take it inside. Realizing that she was still holding the empty milk bottle, Petunia set it down the scanned the street for any neighbours that might have been watching before stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

Vernon had set the basket on the table and was reading a letter with bulging eyes, his face getting redder and redder with fury. When he finished reading, he handed the letter to Petunia muttering, "Absolutely ridiculous and, frankly, rude... only to be expected..."
She took the letter from her husband and began to read. It was addressed to Mr and Mrs Dursley. It said that her sister and her sister's husband had been killed, murdered it said. It explained some magical protection that would befall the boy, Harry, if she took him in and cared for him. It expressed sympathies for the loss of her sister and brother-in-law. It was signed off by Albus Dumbledore.

Petunia finished reading but continued to stare at the letter, only vaguely aware of her husband ranting about the nerve of 'those people' and her son's wailing.

Lily was dead. When was the last time she had seen her sister? She remembered the letter that had been delivered, by normal post, just over a year ago. Her sister had written to tell her that she had given birth to a boy; that she was naming him Harry. She had begged Petunia to come and visit. Lily Potter had long since stopped trying to get her Petunia to forgive her. Petunia felt a stab of sorrow. Had Lily really done anything wrong? The sorrow was almost immediately replaced by a much stronger emotion; anger. Of course she had done something wrong! She had done a lot wrong, from being friends with that boy (what was his name?) to going off to that school. Then she had married that Potter, she had even dared to invite Petunia to her wedding. She was a freak. A bad egg, just like Vernon's sister always said. She deserved this. Petunia was surprised that she hadn't seen this coming. Of course Lily would go and get herself killed! She never did think about anyone but herself and now Petunia had to deal with this mess; this boy, this Harry Potter.

"We have to send him to an orphanage!" Vernon boomed angrily. "If we leave him on the doorstep, nobody will know it was us!"

"No, Vernon," Petunia choked out in a strained voice. "He has to stay here"

Vernon looked at her as though she had expressed a desire to grow carrots on her head. After recovering from the shock of his wife's statement, he said, "Fine. Then we will just have to squash that nonsense out of him. I will not have one of them in my house!"

Petunia nodded absently. Then registering the burning smell, she ran to the stove and pulled the shrivelled remains of their breakfast off of it.

That evening, Mr and Mrs Dursley cleaned out the cupboard under the stairs; Harry Potter's new bedroom.