When Petunia Dursley heard the first flap of wings, her heart stopped. A wave of emotions passed through her mind, but she did not clasp Vernon's arm. She leaned back slightly in her chair, just to make sure Dudley was still outside, mowing the lawn. He had become surprisingly calm and driven to work ever since the day. She watched him committedly making his way through the green grass, his tall solid frame clenching its muscles.
The last time she had seen an owl swoop past No.6, Lovington, was when her nephew had sent her a letter. Dudley had seen it first, because Petunia had been far too scared to open the sealed envelope. She watched his expression turn from worried to calm. When he passed the letter to her, she wondered if he understood exactly what she had from the words on the parchment.
Safe.
Love, Harry.
The word had brought an unnatural relief to her, and indeed, she had known the terrors of Lord Voldemort's reign. When Vernon saw tears pouring down her face, he realized what had happened. It must have taken him plenty of resistance to not say "So that Lord Voldything is dead?"
But it had been three months since another owl had glided into the Dursley's. She was not accustomed to it anymore, now that her nephew had left her home. His teenage life had involved much of owl-action, and there had been an abrupt loss of connection between Petunia and the owls once he disappeared for the final time. She had pictured him, then, looking much like his father, the man Lily had married. James Potter, in his messiness, had been very intimidating to Petunia, much as his son had always been.
She didn't hear the flapping of wings again, and so she continued sipping her morning tea as memories of Harry Potter rushed back into her. As she put her teacup back on its saucer, a rattle shook the entire house. Petunia looked up to see Vernon's fleeting expression of shock. The couple raced to the door, praying inwardly as fast as possible. But by the time Vernon had thrown the door open, Dudley was gone. The lawn mower buzzed, still operating, but Dudley Dursley was nowhere to be seen. The entire expanse of Lovington was silent, much like the summer personality of Privet Drive. But while at Privet Drive, Vernon would maintain the highest levels of normalcy in fear of the neighbors, he was a queer form now- standing very still and looking at the spot Dudley had been taken from.
When Petunia and her husband made eye-contact, there was unnatural fear in his eyes, and heavy doubt. She would not tell him the sound she had heard, not just yet. She would not make her husband cower in the grass in fright. She bent to the ground instead, and found deep gouges in the soil, where the grass had been ripped out entirely. But there was something else, something that solidified the understanding in her mind. She took Vernon's arm and led him into the house, and his look of alarm never left his face.
"Not again, Petunia. Not again." was all Vernon said, shaking his head vigorously, after she had gently told him of the events that transpired before Dudley disappeared.
"Vernon," Petunia said, her frustration openly displayed now. "If we don't, we lose our son."
Five minutes and a strong hug between husband and wife later, Petunia's hand quivered as she held the pen over a clean sheet of paper. The words were almost illegible, but she persisted, finishing the letter, folding it, and inserting it into an envelope. She wrote two words on the envelope, hoping for the first time that their magic called to the right people.
Harry Potter.