So this is potentially becoming an actual story.

Beta credit to Elliot Moose (who does not actually have an account here).


Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. But it is in the most normal of places that the strangest things grow and this was especially true of the Dursley household. While Petunia Dursley was as normal as they come, her sister, Lily Potter, was the opposite.

Lily Potter was a witch. And as much as Petunia hated strangeness and magic she loved her sister. So when one Wednesday morning she awoke to find her nephew on her doorstep with nothing but a callous note about her sister's death, Petunia decided she didn't quite trust Albus Dumbledore. Petunia remembered the strange magical street she had visited with her sister to purchase Lily's new school supplies before their relationship had grown so strained from Petunia's jealousy. She decided to go to the pub entrance, the Leaky Cauldron it was called, and find a newspaper.

That very morning she set out. While the pub itself would be invisible Petunia remembered it's locations with perfect accuracy. She remembered that whole day with clarity, having gone through it in a state of shock. She'd discovered magic and lost her sister all in one fell swoop. She walked up to the space she knew the door was and simply pushed through. The thing she'd learnt about these spells was that they could change the appearance of things, but the building would still be there underneath. Petunia entered and looked around. The bar looked even dingier than it had in her childhood. Quite a feat for the gloomy, crumbling stone structure. People were smoking inside the building, Petunia noticed with shock, and the air itself had become a faded grey. She saw the bartender behind the counter wiping up a few glasses and walked up to him.

"Excuse me, I was wondering where I could find a newspaper?" she asked.

"We have some copies of the Prophet right there," he pointed to a stack of papers at the end of the bar.

"Thank you," Petunia walked up to them, prepared to skim through all the articles to find news of her sister's death, but flashing at her from the cover was a picture of Lily, her husband and baby Harry. The title read "DARK LORD DESTROYED?"

James and Lily Potter, famous aurors and members of the Order of the Phoenix were found murdered in their home last night. The alleged killer is He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, whose robes and wand were found at the scene among a pile of ash, believed to be his remains. People are speculating that young Harry Potter, who has been missing since that night, defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. There seems to be no solid evidence of how this may have occurred or whether Harry survived.

The Potters had been in hiding with their house concealed by a Fidelius charm, a powerful shielding spell which leaves knowledge of a building's whereabouts only in the mind of a single secret keeper who can share the location. Sirius Black, James' closest friend is currently under investigation for being the Potter's secret keeper. Currently he denies these charges claiming another friend, Peter Pettigrew, was the secret keeper. Pettigrew's house was found abandoned, with a Dark Mark above it the night of the Potter's deaths. Whether he was tortured into giving up the secret or if Black is truly a Death Eater spy remains to be seen.

Petunia felt something inside her crumble at the confirmation. Her sister really was dead. Lily was gone forever. And she hadn't even had the chance to say goodbye. She hadn't even known Lily had gone into hiding.

She wondered how this had happened. But more then that she wondered about the mysterious circumstances of Lily's death. She couldn't believe Lily wouldn't tell her if she was in such danger. At least to try and protect Petunia. She'd told Petunia when the war had begun, explained that ether were certain wizards who hated non-magical "muggles" and their muggleborn children like Lily. She'd told Petunia when she began to fight, reassuring her sister she was just playing a minor role and was perfectly qualified from her training to become on auror. She'd told Petunia when Harry was born and Petunia had gone to see the child. While conversation was awkward and stilted the sisters parted with a hug and a promise to try and stay in touch. Petunia had meant it. She was working to overcome her hatred of the abnormal and magical because all it did was push her sister further away. She had been sure Lily meant it too.

Between this and Harry's "disappearance" Petunia knew something had to be wrong, and she was not inclined to trust Dumbledore, who had apparently taken her nephew from the scene of the crime and dumped him on her doorstep without going through the proper procedure. She needed to learn more. She couldn't allow herself to be taken by surprise with news of the magical world anymore.

She headed back towards the bartender, "How do I order a subscription to the paper?"

"You just owl them with your Gringotts information. they deal directly with the goblins and you get the paper by owl every morning," he said.

"Is there no way to get it in a normal delivery?"

"Norm- Oh. You're a muggle. You can arrange to get it without an owl. But you do need a Gringotts account. I suppose you don't have one?"

"No."

"If you go through there," he pointed at the wall which she knew opened into the wizard street, Diagon Alley, "And follow straight down the path you'll reach it. Giant marble building, you can't miss it. When you reach the goblins and tell them you're opening an account make sure you let them know you're a muggle."

"Thank you. Would you mind opening the wall for me?"

"Of course," they walked over and he tapped on the bricks with his wand, "Have a nice day ma'am."

"You too," she gave the bartender a small smile and walked into Diagon Alley.

Petunia strode purposefully down the cobblestone street until she reached the bank. She walked in and joined the line, which moved much faster than the one at her own bank, to speak to one of the goblin bankers.

"Next," an older goblin with a long beard called, and she walked over.

"I'm looking to open a Gringotts account. I'm a muggle," she said, and god did she hate that word. As if she was the strange one.

"Ah, I see. Follow me," he took her to a back room. It had a desk with a small but ornate chair behind it and two plain wooden chairs in front. The goblin took a seat behind the desk and Petunia sat across from him.

"My name is Retiras," the goblin said, "If you agree to set up an account with me today, I will be your account manager. We can easily link this account to any muggle account you have, if not we require a deposit of five galleons. Approximately £20."

"My husband and I have an account with Barclays under the names Vernon and Petunia Dursley."

The goblin asked her for her bank information as well as ID card, then he took out sheet of parchment and placed a drop of ink on it. He snapped his fingers and the sheet began to write out the bank information by itself.

"Is this information correct?" he handed the sheet over to her.

"Yes."

"Alright," he pulled out another sheet of parchment, this one a contract. He filled in their names and other specifics then he signed it and passed it to her, "Sign here, please."

She skimmed over it and it seemed to be be reasonable so she signed. The paper glowed, making her jump for a moment then it disappeared.

"The glow means it's verified and it's gone to our filing system. The magic can automatically tell if the signature is real. Also, here's a never-ending money pouch," he gave her a small bag, "It's linked to your bank account and will always have the amount of money you need in wizarding coins. Was there anything else you needed?"

"Yes, I was wondering how to get a subscription to the daily prophet. One that would be delivered through normal methods."

"Of course. We just need to owl the Daily Prophet Offices which we can do right now. Owl!" he called and one flew in, landing on his arm. He wrote a brief note and attached it to the owl's leg.

"Bring this to the prophet. No response needed," the owl flew off and he turned back to Petunia. The paper will be transported directly to your doorstep. It will be done my magic but the spell will not activate if anyone is looking at it so there's no risking of any other muggle seeing anything unusual."

"Thank you. I have one more question. My sister was a witch and passed recently. I have no idea what was in her will or how to access it?"

"That would be in our records. What was her name?"

"Lily Potter."

"If I could have a drop of your blood? To verify your claim," he handed her a small dagger with a needle-sharp point and a silver bowl filled with a strange white liquid. Petunia pricked her finger and dropped the blood into the bowl. The goblin frowned at the mixture for a few moments. muttering something in a strange language.

"One moment," he said and he left the room. Petunia took the time to look around at the elaborate room. It was very old fashioned, marble walls and wooden furniture, all of which looked hand-carved. The furniture, like all the other things she'd seen in the wizarding world, seemed like it belonged in an antique shop. Retiras' return startled her from her thoughts.

"Everything seems in order. This is the will. It states that all their wealth will go to their son, Harry James Potter. All the vaults but his trust can be accessed by his guardian within the limits deemed reasonable by their account manager. That's Griphook, by the way. In case of their death their son would go to live with his godfather, Sirius Black, or if he was unable to care for him Harry would be placed in your care. With Harry missing you could try to get the vaults. As the will does not specify any heir but Harry and you are their closest living relative you would succeed, unless the boy is found alive and placed with Black. Assuming Black is not sentenced to Azkaban as Death Eater," he muttered the last under his breath.

Petunia thought about the goblin's words and about Dumbledore's letter warning her not to tell anyone she was Harry's guardian. But with the cloud of uncertainty surrounding the Potters' death she could not blindly trust anyone.

"What is Gringott's confidentiality policy?" she asked.

"Any details about your account are kept strictly between you and your account manager. We must tell you if any information gets passed on to our superiors and none of it leaves the bank. We goblins don't get involved with wizard politics. It's why Gringott's is trusted by all wizards."

Petunia knew she had no reason to trust the goblin, but she had no reason to trust Dumbledore either. Retiras had been helpful so far and this level of confidentiality seemed consistent with what she'd heard about goblins from Lily.

"My nephew is currently living with me. He was brought by Albus Dumbledore with no explanation. It's why I had to come here to ask about the will."

"I see. That is most unusual. I'll bring in Griphook. You can discuss the managing of the Potter account with him. Feel free to revisit and discuss your account with me but it's not necessary. All the managing for this account can be done from the muggle end."

"Thank you for all your help, and your discretion," she said. Retiras gave her a small nod of acknowledgement as he left.

A few moments later a different goblin returned. He looked somewhat younger and much less friendly than Retiras had.

"You claim to have Harry Potter?" Griphook asked

"I don't just claim. I do," his rudeness put Petunia on edge. She wanted to trust the person—or goblin—she revealed this secret to.

"Then where is he?"

"At home, sleeping. He's an infant. Why? Do you need me to bring him as proof?"

"Yes."

"I can come back next week," Petunia said. The goblin nodded his acquiescence, although he didn't look happy about it.

"And—" Petunia hesitated.

"Yes?"

"If I gain control of the Potter vaults, I can have them managed by my own account manager?"

"Yes, we can discuss that if you bring the boy," Griphook frowned.

"Thank you," she gave Griphook and tight smile and rushed out of the bank. As she was going through Diagon Alley she noticed herself getting many stares, her normal clothing sticking out like a sore thumb with among all the flowing robes.

When she passed by a store called Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions, she walked in.

"Hello, welcome to Madam Malkin's. I'm Amelia, Madam isn't in so we can't give you a fitting, but if you're looking for general robes you can check the pre-made section," the young girl who stood behind the wooden counter pointed to a few racks near the back of the store, next to a single fitting room.

"Those will be fine, I'm just getting two pairs of everyday robes," Petunia said. She wouldn't need them often but they would come in handy when she visited next week and undoubtedly even more in the future.

She headed to the rack and tried on a quiet a few robes, in a wide variety of colours and styles, disconcerted by the talking mirror which would freely compliment or criticize every outfit. In the end she left with two pairs, in burgundy and navy, since she'd noticed wizards and witches preferred darker colours. Then she walked up to Amelia at the counter.

"That'll be two galleons and a sickle," the girl said. Petunia took the money out of the pouch the goblins had given her. She left the store and Diagon Alley to head to her home, returning to what would never again be normal life.