Petunia's Promise
Petunia Dursley had just finished giving her fifteen-month-old nephew, Harry Potter, a bottle of watered down milk and a carrot, and left him in his small toddler bed in the cupboard under the stairs, turning out the light. He cried a little in the darkness, but stopped after five minutes or so. No one would come pick him up or comfort him, and the toddler knew it. All that would happen was Petunia would return and spank him. Sleep was the only thing for it.
Petunia walked up the stairs into her son Dudley's bright, airy nursey. The fat, blonde toddler was awake in his crib, screaming for a bottle and goodies.
"Oh, my little Dudikins! Don't cry. Mum's here," Petunia gushed, lifting him out of the crib and rocking him as he shrieked, beating her about the neck and shoulders with his fists in aggravation. She had just fed him a full bottle and cookies less than two hours ago, but the greedy child wanted more, and what Dudley wanted he got. And not the thinned, cheap milk and bits of food Harry received for nourishment, but the richest and most delicious of everything.
As Petunia fed her son, she walked about, humming to him and telling him what a beautiful baby he was as he masticated on his cookies and suckled on his bottle. It was a wonder she could carry him. Suddenly, Petunia tripped over her own feet, Dudley flying out of her arms.
"My baby!" she screamed, trying to catch him before he hit the floor, but failing to do so.
She watched horrified as he hit the hard, wooden surface . . . then bounced, hitting the left wall, then the right, then the ceiling, just as if he was made out of rubber, Dudley screaming at the top of his lungs. Finally she managed to catch him, her eyes wide as she stared at him.
Petunia knew this wasn't normal. She also knew what it meant. Her parents used to tell the story of how the same thing happened with her sister Lily when she was a baby. How she was dropped and bounced about, unhurt. It was proof she was a witch.
Petunia stared at her son. Vernon would never accept this. He'd blame her for poisoning his son's bloodline because her sister was a witch. He'd probably want to divorce her.
He couldn't find out. He just couldn't.
She and Vernon had been looking about for an orphanage to put Harry in. They didn't want to raise a wizard. It was too much trouble. Now, she discovered her son was one as well. She might be able to hide it for a while. Harry, when he was upset, made things happen, like rising above his bed when no one would pick him up. Petunia would push him back down and call him a bad baby, threatening to take him outside and let him float away. Not that Harry understood, completely, but she browbeat him anyway.
She looked at Dudley. The best thing to do would be to give him what he wanted, attention, toys, food, whatever so his magic wouldn't manifest. But, damn . . . when he came of age, he'd receive one of those damnable Hogwarts letters. Vernon would find out Dudley was a wizard if that happened. He would have to live among those people . . . those freaks.
No. It couldn't happen. She wouldn't see her son turn into a freak. She couldn't have any more children, so all her hopes and dreams were tied into her son, that he'd become a man like his father, enterprising and normal.
She had to contact Dumbledore somehow, and not let Vernon know.
"Yes, he definitely is a wizard," Dumbledore told Petunia as she sat stiffly in his office. In her desperation, and because it worked last time, she wrote him a letter, simply addressed to:
The Headmaster
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
There was no address or region, but, there were wizards and witches who worked at the Muggle post office and the letter made it to him. He arrived while Vernon was at work and took her back to Hogwarts. She left Harry with Mrs. Figg, who lived down the street. She always did this, not taking the toddler anyplace.
"I don't want him to go to Hogwarts. I don't want him in the wizarding world at all," Petunia said to Albus, who adjusted his glasses.
"But he is a wizard, Mrs. Dursley. He has to be trained up," the Headmaster said.
"No! I won't have him join your kind. He's my son and my wishes should be respected," she shot back at him.
"He does not have to attend Hogwarts, but the invitation must be extended," Albus replied.
"No! No, I don't want that letter to come. My husband wouldn't understand. It would destroy our family!" she said to him desperately. "I'd do anything to keep that from happening!"
Albus looked at her thoughtfully.
"I've heard through the grapevine you've been checking about for orphanages," he said rather darkly. "You mean to place your nephew there."
Petunia nodded.
"He's not our responsibility," she said tightly, "and a lot of trouble with all that bobbing about and things happening around him. It's just too much trouble. Vernon wants him out."
Albus' blue eyes darkened.
"And what about your son? Will he want him out too?" he asked.
Petunia's eyes filled with tears.
"I don't know, but he despises your kind. I think our lives would change for the worst. He might divorce me and disown Dudley," she replied, her voice quavering.
Albus silently wondered what kind of man Vernon Dursley was if his wife was so afraid. He looked down at Dudley, who, as usual was sucking down a bottle on his mother's lap, looking like a swollen, chubby faced doll.
"Your nephew is very important and needs to remain in your house, Mrs. Dursley. You cannot turn him out. If you want me to help you, you must promise to help me. You must promise Harry can live in your household until he is old enough to strike out on his own," the Headmaster said. "If you do this, your son will not be acknowledged as a wizard in any way, although it will be up to you to suppress his magic. But, I need your promise."
Petunia looked pained. Vernon wanted Harry out, but if she did as he wanted, then Dudley would be exposed. She didn't want that. She wanted a normal life, and a normal family. Harry would put a damper on that . . . but he could be ignored most of the time. Besides, once he reached eleven, he'd be gone more than he was there, living at Hogwarts except for the summers. She'd have to talk Vernon into letting him stay. She'd use "family obligation" as a reason.
"Very well," Petunia said grudgingly. "If that's the only way I can keep Dudley out of this . . . this situation, then I suppose I must promise. Harry can stay with us until he reaches adulthood."
"Good," Dumbledore said, "and in the dark times ahead, you must remember your promise, Petunia and what we agreed to. If you break it, your son could still be exposed. Keep that in mind."
"I will," Petunia said, scowling at how manipulative the old wizard was, despite his apparently benevolent demeanor.
Dumbledore escorted her back home and left her alone with Dudley. She sat down on the sofa, holding her son, who began screaming for another bottle.
"Don't worry, little Duddikins. Mum will protect you. I'll always protect you," she breathed, drawing the kicking, screaming baby into her chest. She'd retrieve Harry later.
"No one will ever know," she swore. "Ever."
A/N: After writing that piece this morning concerning Snape and Petunia, and still not able to focus on my stories, I couldn't help thinking about when Dudley and Harry were attacked by Dementors and Petunia received the owl from Albus reminding her of her promise. We never knew what was behind that. I thought it would be cool if Dudley was a wizard and she hid it from both him and his father. By giving the boy everything, it made him not desire anything, and dampened his magical ability because he wasn't fueled by intent. Anything he wanted was supplied. Weak character can result in weak magic? I don't know, but that's how I wrote it. Thanks for reading.