A/N: Written this a while ago and just found it again on my computer, figured I would see if anyone liked it. The updates will be sporadic at best since I have other stories that I'm working on right now, so don't expect updates very often. I don't have a beta so all of the mistakes are mine. Hope you like it!
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.
The day Petunia came home from the hospital, a letter was waiting for her. She ignored it the first day, not wanting to read sympathetic words that all felt empty, just like she did. She continued to ignore it until the third day, when she noticed who the sender was, her sister.
Petunia hadn't heard a word from her younger sibling for two years, so she doubted that the letter pertained to something she would rather avoid thinking about. Her baby, she named him Dudley, had survived only two days while Petunia had fought for her own life due to severe complications. No she didn't want to think about the beautifully decorated nursery upstairs that Dudley had never gotten to see.
So she had opened the letter, hoping for a distraction, instead she received the worst news she could have received. Her sister, her perfect sister, had also had a baby boy. Only a day after her in fact, except of course Lily always had to do everything better than her, including having a healthy child it seemed. The news was suffocating.
Vernon rubbed soothingly on her back while she struggled to catch her breath. "Perhaps, sweetheart, when you're willing, we can adopt a baby."
Petunia sat up and cried, "No! Never!" She rushed from the room, unable to stomach listening to such suggestions after what happened.
A day after returning from a consultation with an interior designer to turn the nursery into a sewing room, Petunia found her infant nephew on her doorstep. He was wrapped in nothing but a thin blanket, something she found worrying, the November cold permeating the air. There was also a letter from Lily's old headmaster. The man hadn't explained much, just that her sister and brother-in-law were dead, leaving the boy an orphan.
That was all, no condolences, no way to contact anyone, nothing. Petunia didn't need any of those things though. She had enough empty gestures from strangers the last year because of her baby; she didn't need them because of her sister too. However it would have been nice to know about what the boy was doing on her doorstep, considering she knew Lily would never have wanted Petunia to raise her son. She had no need of course to know how her darling sister died.
Before her mother's death she was well informed of Lily's life. How she was part of a resistance to fight a Dark Lord. Petunia often thought it foolish. Lily had not even been in that world a decade and was already fighting a war that was none of her business. Oh, her mother knew all about the war. Unlike what Lily had told everyone, she was not in fact a muggleborn. No the Evans were actually a squib line from the once prosperous Thornton line. Lily was always ashamed of this, Petunia never did understand why.
Petunia made a vow to herself that day, to raise the boy better than Lily ever could, to be the perfect mother.
When the little one began wailing for "mama," Petunia gently rocked him in her arms, whispering, "Shhh… Your mummy's right here." Her heart swelled with pride as he eventually settled down to sleep.
The floor of the living room was covered with toys by the time Vernon came home from work. He looked around bewildered; knowing that he was fixing to mention her outburst from the previous year, Petunia subtly distracted him by handing over a laughing baby. Vernon couldn't help but smile at the dark haired boy. Petunia watched with a small smile on her face; she had already made up her mind that not only would she be the world's best mother, but she would also be spoiling the child rotten. Vernon caught her eye, and knew that he had made vows similar to her own, even if he had no idea who the child was.
They both turned to glance at the child as he let out a joyful giggle, it appeared he had come across the finest toy of all—Vernon's cufflinks.
Marge, Vernon's older sister, came to visit the Christmas that Harry was three, bringing her bulldog Brutus with her. Petunia had always hated animals, she thought them to be dirty and smelled, but she didn't dislike any animal as much as Marge's dogs. They always seemed too dangerous, and she knew that for all of Marge's bragging, if anything were to happen she would have no control over the beast. So when Harry had taken a delight in chasing the dog around the house, Petunia held her tongue. Fifteen minutes after the game had begun; the two of them came to a sliding halt in front of the adults who had been sitting in the parlor drinking tea. Shuddering in disgust as Brutus licked Harry across the face, not even the child's delighted laugh could make her smile. Petunia watched in dread as Harry pulled the dog's tail; she saw his surprise as Brutus growled and snapped at his hand.
Immediately Petunia jumped to her feet; she looked away from Harry to see Marge struggling to stand.
"How dare you let that beast attack Harry like that!" cried Petunia as she went to see if her baby was alright. He only had a scratch, but there were tears in his eyes that were more than likely from being frightened then the actual pain. It made no difference to her though, the fiend had attack her baby.
"Attack the little monster? Brutus was acting in self-defense!" Marge's chins wobbled as she flushed in anger. She pointed a pudgy finger at Harry, who sat huddled in Petunia's arms. "That demon child of your sister's is nuisance. I still can't believe you took him in. He'll be just as worthless as his drunken father and whore of a mother. Raising a child that isn't even yours is rubbish. Blood always matters in the end. Just you wait; it's always about the blood."
"Don't talk to her that way!" shouted Harry, tears rolling down his cheeks. "She is too my mummy, she is!" Petunia could feel her own tears on her face, Harry didn't deserve to hear such cruel things said about him, and all he was worried about was her.
Marge had opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out. Looking at Harry's frowning face Petunia realized what had happened. For the last two years she had blissfully ignored mentioning his parents to the boy, but it seemed something had to be discussed soon rather than later. She had hoped to wait until he would understand completely before mentioning the other world that he was so connected to, but it seemed her time had run out.
Trusting Vernon to sort out Marge, Petunia scooped up Harry and carried him off to the bathroom to wash his face and clean up the cut on his hand. At the same time, she kept reassuring him that regardless of what anyone else might say, she was definitely his mummy.
It took two days for Marge's voice to return, or so she told Vernon over the phone. A week after her departure, Petunia filed papers to officially adopt Harry. Instead of changing his last name to Vernon's, they had decided on Thornton. She had also decided it was time to slowly begin Harry's education into a world that she had hoped to forget.
A mystified eight-year-old Harry walked along side Petunia on their way back to their house. They had been at the playground not far from there when she had gotten quite the shock.
"Look Mummy! It says its name is Samuel, and that it just left the nest, and that I'm its first friend. Can I keep him?" Petunia didn't hear most of it though because she was too absorbed in staring at the snake wrapped around her son's neck.
"What do you mean he said his name is Samuel?" It was the first thing she asked after being sure she would be able to talk properly.
Instead of answering her, he turned to the snake, which was way too close to her child in her opinion, and hissed. Actually hissed, something that Petunia thought she would never hear.
Carefully hiding her dismay over Harry's latest magical talent, she suggested they head home, without the snake.
When Harry had first started to show magic, she had taken it in stride already have expected it. She had watched as Vernon rewarded him with a new toy or treat every time he clapped and sparks appeared or his favorite cookie floated to him from the warming tray. The trouble had started when he began school though. Although she grew up with Lily, she never remembered her doing so much accidental magic so young or so often. It took a month of constant calls from Harry's school for her to take action. Instead of being put out, Petunia embraced Harry being so powerful and withdrew him from school. The decision to home school was a tough one, but Petunia didn't trust a tutor enough. So after a long discussion with Vernon they both decided that Harry would have a dual education, both muggle and magical.
Harry loved to learn it turned out, so much so that he was even above his year's curriculum. Petunia couldn't have been happier about that; it made her job that much easier.
"Mummy," Petunia looked down at the soft spoken question, "is talking to snakes a bad thing? You didn't look to happy about Samuel."
Petunia didn't answer right away, not knowing exactly how to answer that, and she could hear Harry sniffling to hold off his tears.
"No baby, talking to snakes isn't bad; it's just something that is very unique." She stopped walking and knelt down to look into his eyes, forcing a calm smile she didn't entirely feel. "Plus you know how much Mummy is afraid of snakes."
She watched as the light returned to his eyes, but all of the fear hadn't quite left either. Sighing she gathered him in her arms, knowing that moments like this were soon going to come less and less as he grew older.
"How about we go get an ice cream? I'll even allow you to get two different sprinkles instead just one this time as well." She knew it was horrible to use sweets as a distraction, but she hated when the happiness was missing from Harry's face.
"Only if you get the green ones too, Mr. Thompson said the other day that only one other boy got the green sprinkles like me. He warned that if another customer didn't request them, he was going to stop stocking them. I of course explained how horrible that would be, but Mr. Thompson just laughed at me." Harry looked up at her like she should feel betrayed as well; she could help the small smile on her face. Not waiting for a conformation Harry continued to ramble about this and that. "Mummy, did you know that the Johnsons from down the street actually own two cats not one…"
Petunia listened, hoping that Harry would always want her opinion, but really she just hoped he would always want her to be there to hear his complaints. She knew though, deep down, that he had a place in the magical world that didn't involve her, and she would never make him choose.
The day that Petunia had dreaded for ten years came two weeks before Harry's eleventh birthday. She had sent him to pick up the mail, and on his return to the kitchen, she immediately recognized the Hogwarts crest on the letter he was reading with obvious curiosity.
"Hey, Mum, Dad! Look at this!" Harry tossed the opened letter onto the table. "I can't believe anyone would go to this much trouble to pull a joke on me."
Petunia desperately wanted to latch on to this explanation, but her forced attempt at laughter died in her throat. She caught Vernon's eye and saw that he looked as frozen as she felt.
Harry's smile began to fade as he saw their serious expressions. "It is a joke. Isn't it?"
Petunia opened her mouth to answer but couldn't find any words.
"It's real?" Harry's eyes widened as comprehension dawned. "All of the weird stuff that happens to me and the special lessons..."
She could only nod.
"You knew? And didn't tell me?"
"My sister..." Petunia broke down at the thought of that dreadful school swallowing up her boy. The knowledge that Harry might resent her for withholding vital information was nearly as painful. However, when Vernon and Harry, both flustered by her outburst, tried to comfort her, she wasted no time in trying to influence Harry's decision by playing for sympathy. "I don't want to lose you!" she wailed.
Unfortunately, a mother's tears were no match against the impeccable logic of an increasingly independent boy. "You won't lose me," Harry pointed out. "It's just a school. I can come home for holidays." He picked up the letter and ruffled through the pages. "Besides, it sounds kind of cool. Better than Smeltings."
Vernon grumbled about the put-down of his old school, but Petunia knew immediately knew that any attempt to persuade Harry not to go to Hogwarts would be futile. Adolescent whims only grew stronger if they were opposed. Additionally, Petunia feared that any obstructions she put in Harry's way would be countered with force by that headmaster. There was simply nothing more she could do.
Lily and her world had won after all.
A/N: So how was it?
Just so no one is confused, Harry had special lessons and read magic books but Petunia explained it away as part of the home school program. She only did subjects that were easily hidden with muggle classes. History, potions (cooking), arithmancy (math), herbology (gardening), occulumency (meditation), healing (anatomy), care of magical creatures (fantasy literature), etc... He had just thought it was a special type of homeschooling and thought nothing of it, and since he didn't have any friends he didn't have anything to compare it to.