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The wake and the long, lonely night both went by excruciatingly slowly. It felt like the first night Vernon had ever spent alone instead of the fifth. He longed for Petunia in a way he hadn't felt yet. It was like seeing her made it all real. She was truly gone.
Vernon tossed and turned long into the night before he gave up on sleep and spent the night sobbing over his wife's pictures instead. He found one of her and her sister at Petunia's wedding. They looked gorgeous together. He set it aside to get it framed. He was sure the boys would love to see it as they grew up.
Vernon meant to go look through Harry's trunk, too, but instead he finally fell asleep in his favorite seat with tears drying in his whiskers.
The next morning, Vernon awoke to familiar sounds and smells. His son was babbling happily. Strong tea and bacon scents filling the air. Vernon almost jumped up to run to Petunia and tell her all about his horrible dream when he realized he wasn't sleeping in his bed. He was in the chair in the sitting room. Then, he remembered how he'd gotten there and felt grief wash over him all over again.
He listlessly got up and headed up the stairs. Without any energy, he showered and dressed for the day. Without any care he combed what little hair was left on his head and the massive amounts of it in his mustache. With little appetite, he walked down the stairs and sat at the breakfast table. He made himself a cup of tea in the attempts to wake up and nibbled on a piece of toast but that's all he had for breakfast.
Betsy came in wearing her uniform of a plain blue dress with a white apron and white skullcap. She sat a boy in each high chair. She dished up some silver dollar pancakes, eggs, and fruit for the boys along with a tall glass of milk in a sippy cup. She glanced at Vernon's light fare but didn't say anything. She just fed the boys and ate herself between bites fed to the babes.
In less than an hour, breakfast and the boys were cleaned up.
"Do you be wanting to go to Potter London House now?" Betsy asked, unsure if the man was up to it. Vernon wiped a hand over his haggard face and agreed.
"Yes. I want to go. Let me gather my things and we'll go see this place. Is there a solicitor I could talk to?" Vernon asked. Betsy nodded.
"The Potters' used the Tonkses as solicitors. We can be stopping on the way back, if you be liking."
"Should we call ahead?" Vernon asked.
"Yes, I'll be calling when we get to Potter House, if you don't be minding," Betsy asked, solicitously.
Vernon liked having Betsy around, already. The entire downstairs was spotless. He didn't know how she managed to clean without waking him but she was a genius. "Yes, please do, Betsy. We'll need to do a spot of shopping for Harry. I don't know if the lad has any clothes."
"Harry is being having all his things in his trunk. As soon as we decide where we will be staying, I will unpack his things," Betsy reassured him.
"We'll still need to get him a proper car seat and a stroller big enough for both boys," Vernon said. Betsy didn't disagree. If that's what Vernon wanted, that's what they'd be doing. He was the boss, after all. Well, Harry was truly her master but Vernon was Harry's guardian so Betsy wouldn't kick up a fuss as long as Vernon acted in Harry's best interests. If he didn't, well, Betsy's last orders were to protect Harry and keep him safe at all costs. It was an order she intended to follow.
"The car should be being here any minute to pick us up," said Betsy. She was helping the little boys into their coats and shoes.
"The car?" Vernon asked, confused.
"Yes. Potter House has two cars and two drivers on staff. One is for the master of the house and one is for the mistress and the children," said Betsy. Vernon flinched at the mention of a mistress. His darling Petunia would have loved to be able to tell everyone they had two cars and two drivers on staff.
"How many other staff are on site at Potter House?" Vernon asked.
"There is being the cook, two to garden, two to clean, two to drive, and me," said Betsy. Vernon's eyes bulged. "You'll hardly be seeing any of the staff besides the drivers and me," Betsy warned.
"As it should be," Vernon blustered. He didn't know what else to say. Potter House sounded spectacular. Dudley and Harry would be raised in the highest style, the way Petunia would have wanted them to be.
Vernon grabbed his overcoat and his hat. His weekend shoes were on his feet and his best business casual suit was being worn. He was ready to face the world, even if every step echoed with a missing heartbeat.
A few minutes later, the car arrived. Betsy led the way to the most gorgeous three-row Rolls Royce that Vernon had ever seen. The driver jumped to move the baby seats from Vernon's car into the classic car before them. It was a 1960 model Rolls Royce Phantom V limousine with two bucket seats in the front and two row seats in the back. Vernon wasn't even aware they'd made them like this in the '60's but it was certainly a beauty.
"Is this a custom build?" Vernon asked, flabbergasted.
"Yes, sir," answered the driver. "My previous ma- … er, employer, Harry's grandfather Charlie, had the Phantom custom made to be er… bigger on the inside. It has tremendous amounts of trunk space, as well."
Vernon whistled and ran his hands over the sleek lines of the classic car. He could get used to riding around in something like this.
"What's the other car?" he asked, almost afraid to ask.
"It's a 1970 model Jaguar XJ6," answered the driver excitedly. "Would you be liking to take it for a drive today as well?"
"Perhaps," said Vernon, stunned. These were some excellent pieces of machinery. Vernon was impressed.
Everyone got in the car. The driver drove quickly and efficiently through the traffic from Surrey to Hampstead. They arrived at Number 77 Parliament Hill. Vernon's mouth dropped open. The homes in this area were multi-million-pound homes. The driver opened Vernon's door for him. Vernon stepped out and looked around. Hampstead Heath was right there, at the end of the lane. Vernon puffed up just to be visiting such a fine area. He helped Betsy get the boys and then followed her inside.
The entryway to the home was gorgeous. All solid English oak and shining bronze fixtures. There was large stained-glass windows and fine works of art lining the walls where doors left space for them to be. A large two-story grand staircase led from the entrance way up into the bowels of the second story of the house. It was carved with images of fantastic beasts and magical children. Vernon loved it.
"Would you like the tour, sir?" asked Betsy.
"Please," Vernon said, speechless at the gorgeous home.
Betsy led Vernon through the house, giving the family history and the history of the home while they walked. On the first floor was a formal sitting room, formal dining room, the kitchen, a study, the family dining room, an informal sitting room, and the entrance to the solarium. On the second floor was an entrance to the library, a ladies solarium, a gentleman's lounge, a playroom for the children, and four bedrooms suites, each of which had a bedroom or two, ensuites, and a small lounge area.
The third floor had an entrance to the library, a children's school room, a game room, and six more much larger bedroom suites. The final floor was a wide-open storage attic, most of which was taken up by shelves of even more books. Vernon shook his head. How many books could a person need? Betsy couldn't help but chuckle to herself. Vernon hadn't even seen the hidden library accessible through the fireplace. It was a magical space and held all the magical tomes, so they wouldn't be seen by any visiting muggles. It was three times as large as the library Vernon could see. It was only a copy of the library at Potter Hall, but Vernon didn't need to know that.
There were gently wrapped pieces of art and dust cloth covered furniture scattered everywhere. Even this attic room was impressive. The final spot was a basement that was set up as some kind of training room with all sorts of weapons and a laboratory of some kind, and of course, more storage. Vernon snorted at the pursuits of some people.
They went back upstairs into the informal lounge and had a seat in front of the largest television Vernon had ever seen. A tea service was waiting for them when they entered the room. Vernon had a plate full of delicious sandwiches and tiny baked goods. He also had a healthy cup of tea with just a dash of cream, the way Petunia had always taken hers. She would have loved this place. She would have paraded all their old friends through this giant, gorgeous house and she would have loved every minute of it. He'd miss the end of the day when he'd read the paper and she'd fill him in on all the neighborhood gossip. Vernon might not like the activity of procuring gossip, but he loved to hear it. Who would tell him the gossip now?
Vernon felt very sad for just a moment. Like a stab in the chest, he missed Petunia so much. He took a deep breath and straightened himself out. He was an Englishman. Not some poncy Frenchman. He wouldn't blubber all over the help.
"How did you find the house?" Betsy asked, getting the boys settled on the floor with some toys and some snacks.
"It's absolutely gorgeous. You say I can live here for life? The servants and the cars will be covered, too?" he asked, shrewdly.
"Yes, sir. This be the servants' home. They will stay for the rest of their life to serve you," Betsy said. She didn't mention that they were bound to the house and would likely outlive Vernon, Dudley, and Dudley's children.
"Did you contact the solicitor for us to visit on our way home?" Vernon asked.
"Yes, sir. I made the call while you were in the loo," Betsy said. Vernon was impressed with her efficiency.
"Very good, very good," Vernon said, distracted. He'd just noticed the back gardens. There was a lovely little gazebo with a swinging bench inside. There was also a built-in grill and a hot tub, as well as some lovely flowers and a vegetable garden. This place was more fantastic with every glance.
The adults had tea before taking the children out into the garden for a little bit of play time. Vernon walked the red brick fenced-in back garden. There was a little arched door that opened right up into the edge of Hampstead Heath. Vernon could see the play park from here.
Vernon walked around to the front garden. It was small but filled with flowers and a tall, strong oak tree. Vernon walked out of the small door that led into Parliament Hill Street proper. He strolled leisurely down the street, taking in the neighbors and the neighborhood. It was a very quiet, upper-class suburban street. Vernon felt like he was amongst his people.
It wasn't long before he was accosted by one of the neighborhood women. He couldn't help but smile. His own sainted wife would have been the first to accost him, had the circumstances been reversed.
"Hello there," said the little biddy. "Nice day we're having, isn't it?" She asked. Her neck was nowhere near as long and graceful as Petunia's had been. She could have peered over the fence much better than this woman.
"Yes, it is. Lovely neighborhood. Do you live here?" he asked.
"Oh, my, yes. My husband and I have lived in this neighborhood for over ten years now," she said somewhat snootily.
"My nephew's family has owned their home here for centuries but it's my first visit," Vernon said, one upping the friendly snob.
"The Potters?" the woman asked sharply. Vernon blinked then smiled his smarmiest smile.
"Yes, my brother-in-law, Lord Potter and his wife, my dearly departed wife's sister, passed away on Halloween. As the caretaker for their son, the next Lord Potter, I am taking stock of his holdings," Vernon said, making it sound much more important than it was.
The woman literally fluttered. "Oh, my. What happened to them?" she leaned forward as she asked the question in anticipation of the juicy tidbit.
Vernon played along. He leaned in and stage whispered, "They were attacked and murdered by a madman. Their son barely escaped with his life. His mother sacrificed her life for him. Then, my own darling wife sacrificed her life to save him from a speeding lorry, as well. We just lost her last week," Vernon said, true sadness in his eyes.
"You poor dear," said the woman, putting her hand on his arm. "You must be in a horrid spot of it. Is there anything I can do?"
"Thank you for being so gracious, ma'am. I think the only thing I could ask of you is to spread a good word for us in the neighborhood. We'll be moving in shortly. It seems a wonderful place to raise children."
"Oh, it is," said the woman excitedly. She was twitchy to leave now. She had the most delicious gossip to share! A murder! A tragic hero! A baby who was being cared for by his loving, widowed uncle. It was too much. "Everyone says so. If there's anything I can do, please let me know. We'll drop by with a cheeseboard and a bottle of cognac once you've settled in." With that, she patted his arm and scurried away. He smiled as he watched her go. He was going to like living here.
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