AN: Hello and welcome to my first fanfic! Enjoy! Drop a review if you're feeling friendly :)
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
June 5th, 1987
Torn fingernails dug into worn leather as Darcy stared at the door. White, with a glass window tessellated in a curling pattern, and covered by a lace curtain from the inside. Not a speck of dust or filth in sight. She clutched onto her bag a little tighter. The façade itself of Number 4 Privet Drive was hardly imposing in any sense of the word. Quaint, maybe. Neat. Uniform. Average. Normal. The people inside were what terrified her more.
Come on, Darcy. They can't be that bad.
She took a deep breath. And knocked.
It took a moment, but the rapid thump-thump-thump of small legs attached to a heavy object hurtling down stairs was unmistakable. She gave a slight smile. The shiny brass knob turned, and the door opened to a small, pink child, one whom might have taken the 'baby fat' idea to greater lengths than he should have. The seven, no, eight year old boy squinted up at her though there was no glare from the midday sun on the front porch. His nose scrunched up and flared.
"Daddy there's a strange lady at the door!"
Her smile faltered.
Thump-thump-thump. Larger legs on a larger object, down a floor-boarded hallway. The door opened wider.
Vernon Dursley, she realised, was far less intimidating than she expected him to be, despite his size. Larger than perhaps any muggle man she had ever seen, his pink-verging-on-red face and bristled expression, not unlike his son's, made it quite clear that he was not pleased at being interrupted. During Sunday lunch, too, if the gravy spatters in his moustache were anything to go by. She cleared her throat.
"Mr. Dursley?"
"Yes? Who are you?"
"My name is Darcy, sir. Darcy Evans. I'm sorry to intrude, but I was adopted seven years ago, and my father was your wife's uncle. I wanted to introduce myself, and finally meet my family."
Mr. Dursley stares at her a moment, instantly drawing his shoulders back to make himself look broader if that were possible, upper lip stiffening as he looked her over. Dudley, she presumed, clearly did not enjoy being ignored.
"If you're family, and you've come to visit, then why didn't you bring presents?" he demanded. Darcy's eyebrows shot up. She stammered for a moment, not quite knowing how to respond. Vernon's suspicion abated for a moment as he chuckled, turning a warm but stern eye towards his child.
"Dudley go and fetch your mother," he said, before turning back to the girl before him. Dudley sulked away, whingeing as he trudged deeper into the house. Vernon cast his gaze back to her. He seemed to be searching for something, somewhere on her person. "I hope you don't expect us to take you at your word, then?"
"Oh no sir!"
She dug into her handbag pulling out crumpled and folded documents printed on cheap paper.
"I have copies of my birth certificate, baby photos, and my adoption documents," she beamed, smoothing then out and holding them out to him with a small tremble in her hand. He took them with a humph, and scanned the documents. Satisfied, he gave a nod, as the voice of Petunia Dursley called out from the hall.
"Vernon," she called, "Who is it?"
It became a whole family affair then, as Petunia Dursley née Evans laid eyes on the image of her younger cousin. She took in the stubby fingernails, worn bag and neat attire. The mousy brown hair so much like her own, the thin nose and slightly spotted face. The tight, nervous posture. The green eyes. The very official looking photocopies clutched in Vernon's meaty paw.
"Darcy?" The older woman gaped at the teenager.
"Hullo Petunia," she replied, that shy smile peeking back out. "Might I come in?"
She was ushered inside by the woman, her spindly hand lingering around her hip. The smell of bleach and bacon rattled Darcy's sinuses, and she tried not to cough. Petunia and Vernon exchanged a look behind her back.
"I'll set the kettle, shall I?" Petunia asked. Darcy nodded, thanking her.
"White, one sugar please."
"Just coffee, dear."
Her large in-law settled down into the armchair, peering at her. She shifted her feet, still standing.
"So," he began. "How did you find us?"
"Oh, my adoptive mother helped me. I searched through as many records as I could find at my local library, and then went from there really."
Vernon grunted. Darcy gulped, before continuing.
"Actually I finally found you through your business, Grunnings was it? One of my neighbours had heard of you through work, he's a contractor."
Vernon seemed to preen, though it looked a great deal more like a wriggling Christmas ham. Darcy cringed a bit at the sight.
"Yes, yes, I'm not surprised, I've recently received a promotion you see-"
"Here we are." Petunia strutted into the room like a demented peacock, obviously having heard the 'praise' her husband had been dealt. She set the flowery tray on the coffee table, complete with three steaming porcelain cups.
"Oh, thank you!" Darcy dived for the cup, wrapping her hands around it and holding it close. The heat nearly singed her palms but it hardly phased her. She sat down gingerly on the couch as Petunia settled into the matching chaise beside her husband.
"Vernon was recently promoted to the sales department. It's all very exciting, we're so proud," Petunia gushed.
"Oh of course! It sounds, um, important. Congratulations."
"Thank you, thank you," Vernon smiled. Petunia turned her beady eyes to Darcy.
"So, Darcy," she began, "How is it we've not heard from you before now? I would have thought we would have been notified or something about your adoption, being blood relatives and that."
"My adoptive mother, Minnie," she choked on the unfamiliar name. "Minnie found me in the wreckage of my parents' home seven years ago. l was so afraid I hardly spoke, and of course I'd really only interacted with Lily growing up over the summer, you being off with your boyfriend, or husband now I suppose-"
Darcy stopped. Petunia's spine had stiffened up, smile tight. She frowned.
"I'm sorry, I didn't meant to bring up bad memories. I found the accident report, about the car crash," the word tasted bad in her mouth. "It was absolutely awful. I'm sorry."
All at once, it was like someone cut a cord that had been fixed into her family's spines. They seemed to sag a little bit, looking much less tense and far less suspicious than before. Darcy continued on, not wanting to be deterred.
"Actually, that was something I was going to ask, I remember Lily had a son as well...?"
"Oh yes, the boy lives with us. Incurably disruptive that one. We do everything we can for him but there's just no pleasing him," Petunia said with a sniff. Darcy had to consciously keep her eyebrows from shooting upwards.
"I see. Still, family is family, right? Is he upstairs with Dudley?"
Vernon leapt from his chair with surprising agility.
"I'll fetch them. Introduce you properly. Petunia perhaps you show Darcy the garden." He scurried off and shut the door to the hallway behind him. She frowned, and shifted in her seat. Her cousin leapt up and hastened to the back door, through the kitchen.
"Oh you must see it, Darcy. It's my pride and joy, my roses are the envy of the entire neighbourhood!"
Darcy wandered out, trailing behind her aunt. To her credit, the roses were beautiful, though Darcy suspected they were overstated in their envy, but still lovely. She smiled, if only to use the manners that had been instilled in her, and followed her around the garden until the back door opened.
Waddling over the patio, Dudley pushed his way through, toting his father behind him and beaming. And there, behind the glinting piglet and his father, there he was. Bespectacled, quiet, and in desperate need of a comb and a hamburger, was the real reason for the seventeen year old's visit. Darcy smiled, really beamed, for the first time that day.
"Hello Harry."