People Like Me
A Harry Potter fan fiction by Iapetus
Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter.
Again, thank you to Willowish for beta-reading this story before any of you saw it. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Here is the next!
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Dear Sirius,
I've been home for a week, and I feel again as though I've been cut-off from the world. No mail has come in from Ron or Hermione yet; the weather has been nasty around here. Hedwig would have a hard enough time getting through it, so I don't think Ron will send Pig out anytime soon (he'd be blown off-course).
Pig? thought Petunia with a shudder. Can pigs really fly in that world? She supposed they could, but she didn't like to think of what the neighbors would say if a pot-bellied pig came gliding into her nephew's room. She had had enough experience with Lily and her son to know that all-sorts of animals were used to deliver the mail (even though the owl was the most commonly-used). Shaking the mental image out of her head, she read on.
How have you and Professor Lupin been doing? Has he been able to find another job? We felt bad when he resigned from his teaching position. He was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher my class ever had at Hogwarts.
Petunia was beginning to get annoyed. The boy talked of nonsense, things she didn't understand. She was about to leave the room, furious with herself for even thinking that any of Harry's letters would be worth reading, when she saw the name again.
I want to take up a subscription to the Daily Prophet, but I know it probably won't do any good. Fudge doesn't want Voldemort's coming back to be public knowledge; he doesn't believe it himself. I'm guessing that reading the paper for information wouldn't help.
Voldemort's back? Petunia thought, fear coursing through her veins, I thought Harry had broken his power! THIS is what she had been fighting against. But... something didn't seem right. She left her nephew's desk, and went into her own room.
Listening again to make sure Harry was still safely cleaning in the attic, she removed a floorboard from her side of the Queen-sized bed. Inside lay a shoebox, and a photo album. She pulled out the shoebox, and opened it up carefully.
Several scrolls of parchment were rolled up. A green ribbon tied them together, which Petunia now delicately pulled. The paper's expanded, and several types of handwriting could be seen.
Leafing through, she found the one that had been concerning her so much. The handwriting was loopy, but very clear and legible. It was dated: 31 October, 1990. It's going to be 14 years ago this Halloween. She sat down on her bedside, and reread the letter from so long ago...
Dear Mrs. Petunia Dursley,
I regret to inform you that late last night, your sister Lily Potter and her husband James were killed by a dark wizard named Voldemort.
There the name was again. Anger began to rise in her heart. Eyes narrowing, she continued.
I am aware of your distrust for the wizarding kind, and your dislike of your sister's choice of living. However, you are Harry's only living relatives now.
Lily had informed me of the Death Eater's attack on your parents. I am sure she would have told you that he was a dark wizard, but he was also connected to the one who killed your sister.
This was nothing new to Petunia. She had known about the Death Eaters and Voldemort long before this letter had come for her.
* Flashback: 2 May 1990*
The breeze blew gently across the garden, bringing the fragrance of newly bloomed flowers to their noses. After a cold April, Mr. and Mrs. Evans took advantage of the first warm day of Spring by having tea with their two daughters.
"Petunia, you are a grown woman. Don't act so childish," her father reprimanded. Still fuming, she stiffly nodded, and continued to pour the tea.
"We're so proud of you, Lily! I'm just sad that James couldn't come today," her mother smiled.
"Well, he had business to do for the Ministry. They called him last minute," Lily explained.
He isn't even here when she tells about her being pregnant, she thought smugly. He is slime, like I thought he was. Vernon would NEVER do that…
"So, do you know if it is going to be a boy or a girl?" the lady continued, "I can't believe it! Both of our girls are going to have babies!" She smiled at the man who was obviously her husband. "We're going to be grandparents!"
Their father put his hand lightly on Lily's stomach. It was too early in the pregnancy to feel the baby kicking, but he didn't care. Nothing in the world seemed to matter, except that his younger child was going to be a mother. Right now, only the pride of a parent for his child shown in his face.
"We want to be surprised, but we know what we'll call him/her. We picked out a boy's and a girl's name. She smiled inexplicably. "We've been talking about children for awhile now, and agreed upon it awhile ago."
"Well, what is it going to be then?" Her father looked at her, hurt. "You're leading us on!" He broke into a big smile, but went back to his seat to resume drinking the tea.
"Well, if it is a girl, we were thinking about Rose- after Great Grandma," she explained. Her mother looked on her with the highest regard. One thing she always loved to talk about was her dear Grandmother, and how she was looking forward to being one herself.
"And, if it's a boy, we want to call him Ha-" she stopped mid-sentence, and stood up quickly. She had drawn her wand, and pointed behind the table. Her family members had to turn to see what she was looking at.
"Lily Potter," a voice spat, "You filthy mudblood, have you decided to return to your kind?" the figure was draped in a black cloak, and none of them could see his face.
"Don't involve my family in this, Death Eater," she said in a dangerously low voice Petunia had never heard before.
"Ah, and as much as I would have loved to stay away from this pack of muggles, the Dark Lord has ordered me to kill you and everyone here." He raised his wand, and pointed it at their father. "But you're going to suffer first. You're going to pay for the mess you made last week, Potter,"
Petunia could see a sense of foreboding on her younger sister's face. She knows something- something bad is about to happen... The two exchanged stern looks. Petunia could read Lily's face. She seemed to say, 'There's nothing we can do.' In a desperate attempt to fight back, she tried to pull their father out of the way.
Too late.
A beam of iridescent green light made the grass around it look pale in comparison. It hit the old man, and with a surprised look on his face, he slumped into his chair. His breathing stopped instantaneously, as if a body's life was a light, and this man had just blew the circuit breaker.
"DAD!" Lily and Petunia shouted, to no avail.
His wife, now a widower, screamed in horror. Petunia's mind was unusually clear, and tried to get their mother out of the way as well. She had no idea what she was up against, but it didn't matter.
Abomination or not, she knew that her sister and her friends were not evil. This man, though, was.
"Daniel, oh Daniel…" their mother murmured, too scared to move. She seemed like a lead weight (despite being a small lady) to Petunia, who was copying her sister's attempt. She heard the man mutter some words under his breath, and the same green light shot out again.
The resistance of her mother fighting to stay with her husband left, and Petunia fell backwards by the sudden lack of force. It dragged her mother to the ground, and she could only look on with shock.
"Mum?" she was now near the breaking point. There was no pulse in her mother's wrist, where she was still holding on.
Lily, seething with rage, screamed out "STUPEFY!", and this time a beam of yellow light shot across the lawn. It hit the man full force, and he sank to the ground.
He isn't dead, Petunia already knew, Lily would never kill someone. Anyways, they weren't the same words. But then, she reminded herself, she knew nothing of spells- surely there was more than one way to kill someone with magic.
NO! She shouted to herself, Lily wouldn't do it! Her suspicions were justified when her younger sister walked over to the man in the crumpled robe, and pulled back his hood and mask.
"Lucius Malfoy," she said, disgusted. "I should have known…" She put the tip of her wand two inches from her mouth and muttered, "Veo reglae."
A second later a wizard appeared out of nowhere. He had a grim look on his face, but didn't seemed to be surprised at the two elderly people lying dead by the tea table.
The scene was going in and out of focus. Petunia could barely see through her tears.
"Jed, I need you to stay here to meet the other Aurors when they get here. I have to get my sister out of here," she heard her sister whisper quickly.
He seemed to want to protest, but nodded. "Is James coming?"
The volume seemed to be turned down in Petunia's ear. It felt as though something in her body had been torn out.
Lily put her arm on her shoulder, and rubbed slightly. Kneeling down, she tried to say something, but no words would come out of her mouth.
Somehow, she was able to find her vocal chords. "Petunia, we have to get out of here." Both women's bodies were wracked with grief, and Lily now wrapped both arms around her sister into a tight hug.
The next moment, they were in a room, which Petunia assumed to be her sister's house. She would have never known - she had never been there before.
Now, away from that evil man, and away from hellish backyard that had once been a place of fond memories, Lily Potter broke down. Seeing her sister crumble only intensified her grief.
It should have been *her* responsibility to take care of the situation, and her younger sister - not the other way around.
It would have been the best opportunity, in any other circumstance, for her to criticize everything in her sister's house, but she didn't. Lily was the only one who felt like she did, and she didn't want to fight right now.
* End Flashback *
After her parent's death, Lily explained everything. Petunia was no ordinary muggle- she was a sister of one of the most powerful witches in Britain. Since she had known about the wizarding world (and would never dare tell), she was allowed to have everything explained to her. Her head still spun when she remembered the conversation, but what really disturbed her was the fact that she was not allowed to tell her husband. They told her how the most recent murders (her parents included) were going to be explained as the result of a madman's crime spree. She was to leave it at that.
Yes, she hated magic, but her contempt for it didn't seem to match that of her husband. When Harry had been left on their doorstep, he was ready to take him to the orphanage. She wasn't such a bad sister that she'd abandon her sister's son, and somehow convinced him to let Harry stay. Her argument had been that they'd raise him as a normal human being who would never know about the world of his parents. It was not for the love of the child that motivated her to keep him (she did not love him at all), it was her duty to her sister that kept her going.
Lily died to save her son, and that love invoked an ancient magic, which protected him from the same curse that killed his parents. Measures have been taken by the Ministry and myself to insure that your family and Harry will be protected by anyone connected with Him.
Voldemort is not completely dead, but he lacks a body in which to reside. It will be difficult to regain his powers, but it is not impossible.
That was the part she had been looking for. It was the part of the letter she had forgotten. So, he could rise again, and he just did. Anger for her situation, her parents' murders, and her sister's death rose again. She never showed her affection for her sister - ever. She hated magic, and everything that had come with her sister's acceptance letter.
Mum and Dad were always proud of her, she thought bitterly. I'd get full marks on everything, and they'd still go on about how their "little girl" was a witch.
They'd always like her gifts more. The year she gave us wizarding sweets, Dad was overjoyed with his Chocolate Frogs. Mum loved the sugar quills. She gave me a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. The memory still brought a great deal of grief to her. She had bitten into a bogie-flavored one, and then never trusted any of the food her sister gave her again.
This was no time to be bitter. She knew what she had to do, if she was to calm her fears at all. But, if she was to pull it off, even her nephew couldn't know what she was doing.
Hiding her letters in the floorboard again, she went downstairs to her writing desk. The insides reflected the cleanliness of the outside, not a thing out of its place. She found her white and gold stationary - the one her sister had given to her for the last birthday she saw - and pulled out a sheet. Pulling out her ballpoint pen, she began to write.
It was the letter that would condemn her to shame, if anyone else would ever find out-
- The letter that risked a response (that she was sure her husband would tear up)-
- The letter that questioned all of her morals and beliefs-
- The letter that would forbid her the excuse of ignorance (if answered)-
- Yet, it was the letter that needed to be written.
Dear Professor Dumbledore...
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I need all the support I can get. Do you like this story? If so, review! The next chapter is the last.
-Iapetus