Disclaimer:
Well, does this need to be explained. If I owned Harry Potter, then I wouldn't be here writing fics!!! So, indeed, it is true that Harry Potter does belong to J.K. Rowling.
A note from me:
This idea came to me quite suddenly, and I hope all of them interweave succinctly, however this is unlikely to happen as my mind will get carried away and it shall end up in a surge of un grammatical phrases!
Prologue:
Harry lay there on his bed completely mesmerised at what he had just seen. Or rather, what he had just dreamt about. Something about his mother, Aunt Petunia and Snape. He went over it again, just to check it was real, what he had dreamt about.
"I don't understand you sometimes Petunia, I really don't" said Lily
"Oh of course, Saint Lily, never has it bad, always Mummy's little girl. Well, sweety, I've had enough of it. I'm so tired of you, what with your little books, your bloody owl and your infuriating magic. Why don't you just get a life!" shouted Petunia.
It was clear that Petunia had been drinking. Lily never drank. That was a rule. Her parents forebode it. It seemed like Lily was too caressed and romanticised, and Petunia was too neglected, degraded and disregarded.
"I really hate you Lily. Why do you always have to interfere with my life! He was mine, and you had to take him away from me. You know, I can remember you were exactly the same at primary school. Before we were ever sent there… to Hogwarts. I had my boyfriend, and you just couldn't resist could you. How long was it? I don't think I had Mark for more than three days, before you stole him from me. Well, by God Lily, I hope someone hates you more than I do!".
Lily seemed to be blocked off. She switched her ears off and floated into an elision filled with men, magic, owls and children. After all, that was what really mattered to her. She seemed to be in the room with Petunia, and in the background there was an almighty rage, but it was muted and severed. It was made much softer on the edges, and she could enjoy this parody which her sister had created. She floated out of the room, and left Petunia steaming.
Harry seemed to be unnerved and quite confused. He hadn't known Petunia to seem innocent, if that was what this was all about. It was also quite impossible that his mother could have been so unsympathetic. He decided to sleep on what he had just experienced. He would find out about it later that day, although he would not ask Petunia, if he valued his life.