The Secret I Never Intended to Tell
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Petunia Dursley was an average woman. A more than average woman one might say, as she seemed to do everything that the perfect wife would do. She baked, cleaned, gardened, and entertained guests often; she prepared her son for school and her husband for work and for the most part she contained a smile on her face. She participated in gossip in the neighborhood, and made a point to welcome every new neighbor with a freshly baked apple pie.
Petunia was a perfectly normal wife and mother. However, when it came to being an aunt, Petunia more than lacked. While she insisted on acting the role of a loving wife and mother, when it came to her nephew, a mister Harry Potter, she treated him as if he was a convict who had to live out his sentence in the cabinet space under the stairs. Some speculated that this was because of her hatred of her sister, Lily, whom was killed years before, while others blamed her husband's distaste for the cost of an extra mouth to feed, as most recall his displeasure once he heard of Dudley's expectance. However, what most people did not realize, was that the true reason for her attitude and treatment of Harry was far worse than anyone knew.
Harry groaned softly as he rolled out of bed and stared out of his bedroom window. Hedwig had returned from hunting and was requesting to be let in. Her beak tapped lightly, but Harry knew that his uncle's hearing would soon pick it up if he did not hurry. "Alright, alright. Hold on girl." He silently waved her in and watched as she perched herself and soon fell asleep. Harry looked at his alarm clock begrudgingly. 5:03 a.m. He sighed as he grabbed his robe and slipped on his house shoes. It was an early morning to be celebrating his fourteenth birthday. As he grasped the door handle he turned abruptly to open the bedroom window again. It was his birthday and he would more than likely be receiving several owls and the last thing he needed was them banging on his bedroom window while he was downstairs eating.
Climbing softly down the stairs, learning well over the years to avoid any creaking stairs or cracks, he headed towards the kitchen. He stopped before he reached however, when he heard soft singing. "Who's that?" He thought before tiptoeing to the edge of the door frame, doing well to stay in the shadows.
Sitting at the table was his Aunt Petunia in her pajamas. This was odd, as she normally did not awaken until 6:00 a.m. In front of her sat a small cupcake colored scarlet and gold. Harry found this interesting, as it almost reminding him of his house colors at Hogwarts. He almost stepped in to the kitchen to ask, but stopped as he watched Aunt Petunia pull something from her robe. He could not make it out in the low light, but instantly recognized it for what it was the moment Aunt Petunia spoke, "Incendio." A blue flame shot from the wand and instantly lit the candle that Harry was sure wasn't there before.
Oh how tempted he was to run out and shout at her for using magic, something he was constantly belittled for, but yet he found his feet planted and his throat dry of any threat or questions that ran through his mind. Again he stared, and again he was surprised at what he saw. Petunia raised her wand again and spoke, "Celebrare in silencio." Harry's mouth fell into an "O" as he watched small fireworks and a dancing lion erupt from the cupcake in a beautiful display. His amazement almost caused him to miss the next words she whispered. "Happy birthday to you… happy birthday… to… you…" She stopped, and Harry wondered why for a moment. There, in the darkness, he saw the tears shimmer from the light post in the window. She was crying. "Happy birthday… dear… Ha… Ha… Harry…" her head came down and lain across the table her breaths becoming staggered and uneven. He could hear the pain in her voice and the stutter in her chest. If he hadn't been listening as intently he would've missed the deep and painful way he heard her end the song, "Happy birthday… to… you…"
He watched her for several minutes as she laid there. At first all he could focus on was her and how terribly upset she seemed. After she appeared to be breathing somewhat normal he focused on the display. It was wonderful as he watched the fireworks silently peak then boom, and how the lion raced across the table, jumping through explosions at times and giving what appeared to be a deep and silent roar. Then, as Petunia steadied herself and watched the display, still with tears in her eyes, he found himself getting angry.
All those years he was called the freak of the family, the one child who did not exist, and for what? His Aunt was obviously a witch, so where did she get off? He found himself shaking as he remembered all those years of torment, all those years of neglect, and most recently, his time at Hogwarts. Who the hell did she think she was?!
He stiffened himself as he watched her take the cupcake and place it on the counter, quickly changing the frosting back to white so it would blend it with the others. He did not intend to confront her now, but it seemed that fate would not have this wait. She turned then, for whatever reason and caught Harry's eye. Immediately she appeared to become ill. "Ha… Harry?" She whispered, eyes darting between him and the dark hallway behind him. "What are you doing up this early? Go back to bed sweetie… I'll get breakfast today!" She whispered, voice cracking near the end. Of all the questions Harry could have asked, the only one that popped in his head first was, "Why did you call me sweetie?" Petunia laughed, somewhat, and headed towards him in an attempt to usher him away, "Oh, you know. You're my nephew… I… love you… you know… that's what we say to each other." She grabbed his arm to lead him away, but he snatched it away, "Why didn't you tell me?!"
At this Petunia dropped her gaze and walked away. "How much did you see Harry?" "I've seen enough!" His voice quickly rose, and Aunt Petunia quickly raised her wand at him, and though he could not see it, he felt it. She silenced him. "I will not tolerate you screaming. I've lived my entire marriage as the perfect "normal" wife for Vernon, and I will not have you ruining it at 5 o'clock in the morning." Suddenly Harry felt his whole body stiffen and move into a chair. She sat stiffly at the end of the table and stared at him, though with what emotion, Harry could not say. "Now, if you will contain yourself, I will allow you to speak. I will be civil about this, but I will not sit here with you screaming at me. Understand?" Harry nodded before he felt the stiffen and silence charm end. "Now, ask."
A/N: So sorry that this is short. My usual chapters average 2,000-4,000 words, but I really wanted to get this first bit out here and just get a feel of the territory. I'm not fully familiar with every aspect of the Harry Potter world, but I am truly trying my best to keep to a believable base. If I'm unfamiliar I do try to look it up. This story is a good one, at least I think. I've always wondered if Petunia was really a witch, and this came from certain things that Petunia said in the book that made me think that she was one as well, but something happened which made her leave the wizarding world and despise it.
