Live from Number Four
Another short story by the one known as Padfoot...
Early Sunday morning on August first of 1981 Petunia Dursley woke up, stretched and flipped back the covers. Her life was normal, Dudley had gotten his second tooth, and they were planning on taking a trip to the indoor swimming complex over in Pool.
Dudley stirred in the crib not far away, but yawned and rolled over. Petunia smiled and stood up, arranging her lace nightgown and rubbing a bit of sleep out of her eye. Her life was almost perfect, but the happy thoughts Petunia had been thinking were suddenly trounced.
Petunia had unwillingly thought of her sister. That little brat had gone off about two years ago, waving and blowing kisses to the reluctant family-of-the-bride who watched the youngest daughter leave on her honeymoon with that tramp.
James Potter. His name made Petunia scowl, causing a slight wrinkle in her forehead. He worked for something he deemed quite important. But ask any ordinary citizen-even the law-abiding neighbors on Privet Drive, and they wouldn't have known what Petunia was talking about. James Potter was a wizard.
It sounded quite ridiculous. A magician, an illusionist, anything but wizard and the neighbors would have thought of something completely normal-muggle as Lily called it. But he was a broom-riding, wand-carrying, spell-doing wizard. And that was wrong. And in concept, James Potter was wrong.
And little Lily had married him. Petunia tried to erase the scowl from her face as she thought of the letter Lily had sent just last year at the end of July saying that she had had a child. A little boy, spitting image of his father, but with Lily's gorgeous green eyes.
Those eyes had stirred up trouble since Lily's birth. Petunia's were a normal misty blue, nothing even pretty. But Lily's. Lily's were brilliantly green, like emeralds. And Petunia's were ugly blue. And that was enough to seal a bond of hate between Lily Potter and Petunia Dursley.
Of course their names hadn't always been Potter and Dursley. They had married; Lily to the aforementioned James Potter, and Petunia to a beefy fellow who worked in a drill company, named Vernon Dursley.
And their family was perfectly normal, thank you very much. No funny stuff. And they had Dudley-the small blonde baby with two teeth and a healthy appetite. And he was enough to keep Petunia's mind of the possibility of ever seeing her good-for-nothing sister and brother-in-law for a good long time.
It was that very morning that Petunia ventured down to the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. She measured out a pot of water and added coffee grinds to the coffee maker and trekked out towards the lawn to get the morning paper and to put out the empty milk bottles for Mr. Creevey.
Feeling slightly high-spirited, Petunia flung the door open but before she took her first step, emitted a hollow, horror-struck screech. Before she keeled over backwards in a dead-faint she caught a fleeting glimpse of a dark-haired baby boy laying swaddled in blankets on their front stoop.
"Petunia!" Growled Vernon as he heard the faint thump and raced down to the front entry. Laying on the floor was Petunia, and on the stoop a baby in blankets with a jagged cut on his forehead lay.
He managed to get Petunia to come-to before he snatched a parchment envelope from the baby's hand.
"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley," Vernon read to Petunia, whose vision was still swimming.
"I am sorry to inform you of the death of your sister, Lily Christy, in a terrible accident involving a dark wizard named Voldemort. Her husband, James Potter was also killed in the murder, leaving behind very little property and their son, Harry. As the only living relative, Harry must be left in your care, assuming you have the kind heart to give the boy a home. Enclosed is another letter that Harry must be given before his eleventh birthday. It is in our deepest regrets that I leave you with Harry James Potter and hope to see him ten years from now. Please to not inform him of the way his parents truly died, until he is mature enough to understand.
"Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore." Vernon finished, swearing under his breath. Both Petunia and Vernon's gaze fell on the tiny baby, who cooed unhappily.
"Make him live in Dudley's old crib!"
"Or in the cupboard." Vernon growled, swearing to himself. "I wouldn't give that imp anything as nice as that crib."
"The cupboard?" Petunia asked. She didn't think that just because his parents were wrong people, he should have to live in a cupboard. She didn't want to be cruel, she just didn't want to have anything to do with any of the Potter family. She whimpered and cleaned a few boxes out of the cupboard before Vernon tossed a few old blankets and a pillow in and instructed Petunia to put Harry in.
"But Vernon!" But the matter was settled. Harry James Potter was to live in the cupboard under the stairs. And he was not to be talked of. To anyone but the Dursley's he didn't exist.
Three years later, the tiny Potter by still lived under the stairs, now he was a mischievous toddler. Four years of age is a time that small children explore and have fun. Petunia couldn't stand the thought of having to take care of Harry, act like the mother he didn't have.
But she still lugged Harry out every morning for a breakfast of a piece of toast and a glass of orange juice or apple juice. She sent him every morning to preschool with Dudley. The lady at the daycare center would scowl behind Petunia Dursley's back every time Petunia dropped the two boys off.
"Rotten woman. Can't even take care of her late sister's child." Ms. Rawlings would say as she watched Harry totter over to a corner of the room. It was saddening to see the poor child live so downtrodden. But, there was nothing she could do as long as Harry Potter was healthy.
Petunia would leave for a day of shopping, and sewing club at two. At four, daycare let out and she picked up Harry and Dudley, placing Dudley carefully into his expensive car seat and Harry into a homemade booster chair.
One day, Ms. Rawlings stopped Petunia as she was leaving the daycare.
"Err… Mrs. Dursley?"
"Yes?" Petunia answered shortly, staring angrily at the tall, rather attractive woman who was still holding Dudley's diaper bag.
"Your nephew… Harry. I…" Ms. Rawlings struggled for her words. She wanted to say something like, would you let me adopt him? Or maybe is Harry happy, does he know what happened to his parents? But she couldn't say it. "Um… I think that Harry needs a different environment. He is not at all sociable to the other children."
"What are you implying?" Petunia scowled, staring at Ms. Rawlings in horror.
"That maybe he'd like a different home…" Ms. Rawlings said very quickly, stuttering a bit.
Petunia raised a light blonde eyebrow. "I don't think that would be a good idea." She barked, and left in a hurry. The car's tires squealed as Petunia peeled out, zooming away from Sunny Days Daycare.
Over the decade that followed that fateful morning, Petunia Dursley seemed to think she was being stalked. There were two people that showed up everywhere. First was Ms. Rawlings from the daycare, who soon began teaching at the school where Dudley and Harry attended; and second, a man named Merlock.
It was a strange name, and Merlock was a strange person. He didn't seem to have another name, and so he was just called Merlock. He was everywhere. He bounced from job to job, once as a school janitor, a summer day camp counselor, and even a taxi driver.
Merlock was constantly talking about Harry. He seemed to be checking up on him, making sure the Dursley's were treating Harry okay. And one day, Merlock rang the Dursley's doorbell.
It was around 1989 that Merlock showed up for the final time.
"Mrs. Dursley?" He said when Petunia opened the door.
"What do you want?" She said curtly, she had never liked Merlock.
"I'm leaving. I wanted to say goodbye. And I'll really miss Harry. Could I say goodbye?"
"Why?"
"It's just because I don't know if I'll ever get a chance to see him again, and he's I'm slightly fond of him."
Merlock entered, his black shoes scuffing the carpet, as Petunia noticed with horror.
Harry wandered out, carrying a duster.
"Hey Harry."
"Hi Mr. Merlock." Harry smiled and shook Merlock's hand.
"Wanta know something?"
"Sure."
"I have something for you. I want you to only open it when you're fifteen. Alright?"
"Uh…sure." Harry said as Merlock pressed a small box into his hand.
"Remember when you're fifteen open it. You'll want to." Merlock waved and left without a word, shaking Petunia's hand as he left.
And it was two years later that a new saga in Harry James Potter's life began. Petunia's worst fears came true. Harry was told of his parents, the magic, the murder, the mayhem.
And time passed and a boy grew out of the tiny baby Petunia had so unwillingly cared for.
The summer of 1995 brought home a tall, raven-haired, green-eyed young man with a wand and cape and a broom.
And for the first time in her life since that day in 1989, Petunia Ann Dursley remembered a certain tall, blue-haired man with green eyes.
"MERLOCK!"
And so this story ends, and shall gain a new title from the working title of "Live from Privet Drive." It has earned the title "Quest of Sir Merlock." If you know where the name Merlock came from, than I suggest you turn off Flint the Time Detective and grow up. But then again, I think that Merlock is cool. I watch cartoons too much. And can anyone guess who Merlock is?
I'll give you six choices:
a) Someone we don't know yet
b) Sonny Malfoy
c) Sirius Black
d) Someone with an C as the first letter
e) Severus Snape
f) Padfoot
The correct answer is *Error! Bookmark not defined!* Can you believe it? I know!
Hehe, sorry about that. Well, does anyone want to guess?
Watch out for a story containing the rest of Merlock's quest.
MERLOCK FOREVER!
PADFOOT THE WANDERER!
P.S. I'm alive, I just wanted to post something, and Merlock does have a story, I have to finish it....
