Written for Pairing One Hour Challenge at HPFC (prompts: Petunia/Arabella, perfection).
Written for Challenges by the Dozen at Caesar's Palace (prompt: write about a minor character).
Written for Alphabet Game 2.1 at Caesar's Palace (prompt: ailurophile).
Written for Life is Just One Huge Song at Caesar's Palace (prompt: faith in the unseen, Christian - "Illumina Oculos")
Written for One Hit Wonder at Caesar's Palace (prompt: "Illumina Oculos").
Written for September Event at Hogwarts (prompt: timid, stereotype).
WC: 564
Arabella wears a cap over her head like it could rain any minute, and Petunia always looks like she wants to yank it right off her head whenever she comes over to pick up Harry for babysitting. Just as well, because Arabella wouldn't mind yanking that sour look off of Petunia's face every so often.
"Good afternoon, Harry," Arabella says with a smile. She knows that he stereotypes her as just an old cat lady, but she doesn't mind. She wants to wipe the frown off his lips as well, because she knows where it's coming from.
Harry shakes her hand, per usual, and they step into the street together as they walk to her house. Usually, they don't walk, but today, Arabella decided that it was too lovely a day not to.
"Do you hear the birds chirping?" Arabella says, inhaling deeply. The air is fresh, and she tries to get as much of it as she can into her shawl to take back into her house.
"Yes."
"I'll have to keep my cats indoors today." With that pleasant note, she tightens her shawl around her shoulders and picks up her pace. Harry, with his short, stubby legs, has to skip to keep up.
Every time Arabella sees Petunia, she notices something different, whether it's a new necklace or a new grey hair or another fine wrinkle etched into a frown. She sees Petunia eye to eye, Muggle to Muggle, woman to woman. She sees a mother who couldn't possibly love her own ward as much as Arabella does.
Arabella has never stopped believing in magic. Sometimes she can't see it, and sometimes she can't shake the wish to be able to see the sparks and the creatures and the castles, but she has never stopped loving it. Magic lights up her life (literally, sometimes, when she's around Wizards) and the Order makes her feel like her decades have been worth it. She just hopes that these tricks and skills will be able to save a timid boy she has come to know.
She looks over at the couch, where Harry is sitting with his hands twisted into a knot and his eyes cast downward. It has been a few minutes since she last told a story about her cats, and he seems to be taking a break for round two. Arabella lets the corners of her lips quirk up in a smile. What a lovely boy, to sit through her whole tirade about kneazles, when he probably doesn't know what a kneazle is.
Arabella offers him a tissue. If the way he keeps sniffing is any indication of his allergy (or non-allergy?) to cat hair, she'd better give him a tissue box before he leaks all over the floor.
Bringing him back to Petunia is not her favorite part of the night.
"Thank you for babysitting the boy today" Petunia says, though there is no real emotion in her voice.
Arabella adjusts the bonnet on her head before responding. "It was my pleasure."
When Arabella has put her bonnet straight on her head again so she can see in front of her, she meets eyes with Petunia Dursley, the neighbor she has sworn to protect, or at least keep an eye on for Harry. Arabella's not sure what she expected, but the calculating, cold perfection in Petunia's eyes make her core shiver.