Petunia

Another piercing scream cut through the air. Petunia sighed. If she could only have five minutes of peace ...

She put her coffee mug down on the kitchen counter a little too aggressively, and some coffee spilled onto the white counter top. Petunia could feel the anger in her rising, like water boiling over in a pot, but as if someone took the lid off the pot and the water just stopped its journey right under the rim of the pot, she was too tired to leash out. Who would she vent to, anyway? She was alone all day, with only those two crying toddlers keeping her company. Vernon hadn't come home from work before midnight for the past three months.

Her friends from school had never returned after university and were coming back here for birthdays, weddings, and the likes. There was another couple from Vernon's workplace they had gone to dinner with a few times, but it wasn't like the friendship between the other couple and herself was close enough to tell them about such personal matters.

Petunia let Harry scream. Each time she looked at the boy, she could feel a painful twinge in her heart. He looked so much like that awful man her sister had married, but the boy's eyes were a straight copy from Lily. She couldn't bear looking at Harry. She felt terrible about it, but often she left him in his crib for the entire day, changed his diapers with her eyes closed, and just put food on a plate in his bed, then left him to eat alone.

Harry must have felt it, her pain and her apprehension. He was screaming and crying all day, and nothing she did could muffle the sound of his high-pitched little voice.

Why her? she often asked herself. Why her? Of course, the answer was in the letter she had received on that fateful morning when Vernon had opened the door to find her nephew there, all bundled up. The answer was that her sisterly bonds to Lily protected Harry from He-who-must-not-be-named, and what if Dumbledore was right and terrible things were to happen to her family, should Harry not be able to grow up under her protection? She was not willing to find out. She had to arrange somehow to live with that child.

Harry continued screaming. Petunia sat down on the peach-colored couch and covered her ears with her hands. She must be going insane. Harry's screams started to sound like the ringing of the doorbell. No, Harry's screaming had calmed down, and someone was indeed ringing the doorbell. Hastily, she wiped the tears under her eyes, adjusted her hair, and opened the door.

In front of her front door stood a man who very clearly wasn't Vernon. He was tall, but a shabby cloak hid his body shape. His hair was light brown, combed backward with a single strand astray hanging over his forehead. He was staring at her with light green eyes. Then, as if he suddenly had made up his mind, a smile formed on his lips.

"Are you Petunia Dursley?" he asked.

Her brain was trying its best to function, running on only a few hours of sleep, a dried bread roll, and half a cup of coffee. Who was this man, and how come he knew her name? Well, her surname was easily visible to anyone who could read the nameplate next to the doorbell. But how did he come to know her first name? And why did he look so oddly familiar?

"Who are you?" she replied.

"Pardon me. I should have introduced myself first, of course. I'm Remus Lupin."

Petunia's brain was going at a hundred miles an hour. She felt she should know where she knew this man from, she felt like she had even seen and heard his name before, but she couldn't reach a conclusion. A man with such an unordinary name - she felt like she should remember it. But she didn't, and he was too polite to interrupt her thinking. So, both of them just stared at each other, waiting.

Then, he pulled one of his hands out of his pockets and reached it out to her, and after a brief moment of hesitation, Petunia took it and shook it.

"Yes, I am Petunia Dursley. Do we know each other?"

The smile on his lips disappeared. Instead, he stared into the distance as if he was looking for something - or someone.

"I am - I was - a friend of Lily. I was there at the funeral."

Petunia closed her eyes for a second. She tried remembering all the guests from the funeral, but no matter how hard she tried, she didn't recall seeing this man there. On the other hand, there were so many people in strange clothing at the funeral, and she could never tell them apart. They all looked the same to her.

But after the first moment of surprise, a bitter taste rose in her mouth. Lily only had one type of friend, the magical kind. The same people who had managed to rip her sister out of her life twice - first, to take her away to that wretched school and then to death. She knew it before, but it was even more apparent to her now. She didn't want anything to do with those folks. She wanted them gone.

"I do not wish to talk to friends of my despicable sister, have a good day," she said and reached for the door handle.

"Can I see Harry, at least?"

The words had almost fallen out of his mouth, as if they had been sitting just at the tip of his tongue, ready to be uttered at the first opportunity. He had made a move for the door; their hands met on the door handle for a split second.

"Please," he murmured, and then, looking directly at her, he added, "I know it must be hard for you. Losing your sister and then having to take care of her child. I just - I know there's not much I can do to help, but if I could only take Harry for a stroll, give you a few minutes of free time, maybe that would help. You wouldn't have to interact with me. I won't bother you, I promise."

She looked him in the face. There was a particular look on his face, desperation mixed with loneliness, perhaps. Her first instinct was to refuse, send him away, but then his offer had managed to sneak itself into her mind, and the longer she processed it, the better it sounded.

She desperately needed a shower. She needed warm food, not just Harry's leftovers and soup straight from the can. She wanted to read the newspaper and drink her cup of coffee in silence, play with her own son, take him on a stroll, go to the playground, and watch him frolic around with the other kids. His offer reminded her that she had had a life before Harry, and this realization hit her hard.

Now she wanted nothing more than to take Harry out of his little bed and hand him over to this complete stranger. If there was any possibility that she might get rid of this kid, she would take it. But then there was Dumbledore's warning. She remembered the old man's trembling voice emanating from the letter he had written to her after she hesitated to adopt Harry. That she was to, under no circumstances, let Harry grow up without providing him houseroom in her home. Was she really in her right mind to let some stranger take that kid that was put in her custody? What was she thinking? That man could be anyone. He said he had been there at the funeral, but she couldn't remember seeing him. What if he was ...? No, she couldn't even dare to finish that thought. Petunia had a very uneasy feeling about this.

"I'm sorry," she heard herself say. "I won't let you take Harry for a stroll alone. I'm his legal guardian, after all."

Remus looked discontented. He looked down at the space between his shoes.

"I understand," he said, shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, and turned around to leave.

All of a sudden, he looked fragile. He was clearly around Lily's age, but now he looked like a boy looking for his mother in the grocery store.

"But you may come inside and visit Harry under my watch. Five minutes."

The man turned around, and his eyes brightened up.

"Thank you so much," he said and smiled.

When he took off his shoes, Petunia noticed there was a rather large hole at the heel; and the Professor patches on his sweater didn't look like they had been there the entire lifetime of the garment but had been placed there rather recently and by someone with relatively little experience in sowing. She almost wanted to ask him, but she swallowed her question and led him to Harry's crib upstairs.

When they entered Harry's bedroom, Harry was already standing at the wooden gate of his crib. And when Harry saw who the visitor was, something entirely never-been-seen-before happened. Harry giggled and put his little arms over his head as if wanting to be picked up by the man.

He made a noise that sounded like "Moomie." Petunia looked at Remus, waiting to see whether he understood what Harry meant, and was taken aback to see that tears had formed in the man's eyes, and the smile on his lips strangely made him look even sadder.

"Yes, little guy," he said, "Uncle Moony is here."

"Who is Moony?" Petunia asked.

"Me," Remus said, his voice sounding distant and hollow. "It was a nickname in our group of friends."

He moved over to the bed but turned around before he reached it, looking to her for approval. Petunia just nodded. With great enthusiasm, Remus lifted Harry out of his crib, and Harry let out the loudest, happiest giggle that Petunia had heard from any child ever. It was evident that Harry knew the man and connected his appearance with a joyful time in his life.

As if someone had slapped her, Petunia realized that this must have been hard for Remus, too, losing two of his good friends and seeing their son again, who looked so painfully like a perfect mix of them. She stepped back to go check on Dudley, and left the two to themselves.

Something about the entire scene seemed odd to her. It might have been that a man who was a complete stranger to her was also the only person able to stop Harry's crying. It might have been that, before that day, she had never seen a man play with a child - not his own, let alone the child of friends. It might have been that she, Petunia, experienced the first minutes of no screaming, no crying, and no one calling for her in several months, and that relief made her realize her exhaustion.

But she hadn't forgotten about the five minutes rule. She was about to remind her visitor about the time constraints, but just then, he turned around toward her, smiling.

"He's asleep," he said. "I should leave."

Petunia only nodded and opened the bedroom door. She accompanied him to the front door and waited for him to put his shoes and cloak back on.

"Thank you, once again," he said, leaving her property with long steps.

Petunia shook her head. Had she just dreamed? She went back inside and set up her coffee machine. Soon, the scent of freshly grounded coffee filled the entire kitchen. Upon tinkering around for a bit, Petunia realized how hungry she was, and she spontaneously decided to heat up some scones she still had in the freezer.

When she took that first bit of her scone and took that first sip of coffee, her mind was still trying to comprehend what had just happened.