Jane sat with her nephew, Dudley - and what on Earth had possessed Petunia to allow her son to be named Dudley Dursley? Dudley wasn't a family name on their side, so it must've come from Vernon, and that was just another reason to dislike the man - while Petunia put the kettle on for tea and pulled biscuits from a cupboard over the cooker.
"Have you heard anything about a funeral?" she asked.
Petunia sniffed. "As though her kind would tell us anything."
Jane winced. Petunia was the only one of the three sisters without enough magic to channel through a wand, and over the years, she'd become more and more bitter about that fact, even though Jane was careful never to use magic around her or even speak of it unless absolutely necessary.
Like now.
"Why didn't you call me?" she asked. "I had to read about it in the paper."
"I thought they'd've told you before they told me," Petunia responded just as the kettle started to whistle.
Petunia removed it before the noise could get too loud - "Dudders has very sensitive ears" - and poured it over the tea in the flowered teapot that had been their maternal grandmother's.
"I - don't have much contact with them," Jane answered. "Not the British them, at any rate."
It had started before she was born, though she hadn't found that out until years later. Her father was not Lily's and Petunia's father, but rather a Frenchman their mother had met while on holiday on a break between semesters at uni.
A whirlwind romance later, and Rose Moneypenny found herself married to a French history student. Once they'd found out Rose was pregnant, Jane's father had transferred his studies to Oxford - only to be killed in a traffic accident before her first birthday.
That her father came from a well-known French wizarding family meant Jane had been invited to attend Beauxbatons Academy, not Hogwarts. Lily and Petunia had been too young to be aware of magic, so they'd only been told that Jane was following in her father's footsteps.
By the time Lily's invitation to Hogwarts came, Rose had married Gareth Evans and birthed two more daughters.
The woman who delivered Lily's letter had been so full of praise for Hogwarts - and not a word of criticism, however mild, and that really should have set instincts on alert, because no place was perfect - that Jane had said only that she went to school "in France, where my father went. I stay with my aunt and uncle while I'm there."
That had satisfied the woman, who'd gone on to perform simple, showy, feats of magic to convince Lily - and, by extension, Petunia - that magic was real.
Jane pulled herself from her momentary reverie and refocused on her surviving sister as Petunia brought the tea and biscuits to the table. She put a biscuit on the tray of the high chair, and Dudley grabbed it immediately.
"How are you, Tuney?" she asked. "Still happy with Vernon?"
Petunia smiled and the expression lightened her entire demeanor. "Very. I know you're not fond of him, but he's a good man, and it looks like he'll be made director at the next stockholders meeting."
"Congratulations," Jane said, and mostly meant it. She wasn't overly fond of Vernon Dursley - but then, she wasn't overly fond of boisterous, loud people generally.
"With the increase in salary, we've been talking about moving to a nicer area," Petunia continued and then, inexplicably, her expression darkened. "But that's not in the cards anymore."
Just as Jane was about to ask why not, Bond's voice came from the other room. "Moneypenny, if you would?"
Jane murmured an apology and rose to return to the lounge.
"What is it?" Jane asked, frowning when she saw Bond standing beside an open cupboard door and returning his weapon to its holster.
"You should see this." He stepped back and fixed her with a hard glare - no, not her, she realized. He was looking past her to Petunia. "And you stay where you are. For everyone's safety."
Jane glanced over her shoulder to see Petunia standing in the doorway to the kitchen, her expression torn between anger and shame. Jane frowned at her sister, then at Bond as she took the few steps necessary to bring her to the cupboard.
She took one look inside the cupboard before whirling to glare at her sister. "Petunia Anne Evans Dursley! What are you thinking, locking a child in a cupboard?!"
"It's one of them." Petunia glanced from Jane to Bond and back to Jane. "One of Lily's."
Realization slammed into Jane's awareness. "Lily's son. You locked Lily's son, your own nephew, into a cupboard!" She took a breath, let it out slowly as she tried to reconcile what she was seeing with the sister she knew - or thought she knew.
First things first, however. She knelt at the entrance to the cupboard, Harry's expression intent and curious as she did.
"It's okay, Harry," she murmured. "Auntie Vi is here."
She kept speaking to him, softly, reassuring him with her tone as well as her words, as much as she could, as she reached out for him, gathering him and his blanket - one she remembered giving to Lily at her baby shower - into her arms.
As she withdrew him from the dark cupboard, a fresh, barely-healing wound in the shape of a lightning bolt stood out in stark relief against the paleness of Harry's forehead.
She straightened, settling Harry more comfortably on her hip, and frowned at her sister. "Well? Why was your nephew in a cupboard?"
Petunia's answer was to turn and practically stomp her way up the stairs. Bond made a move to follow, but Jane shook her head.
"She'll be back," she murmured, and Bond nodded. He turned and knelt to check the cupboard. Then, apparently finding it empty, he closed and secured the door once again.
Petunia returned with a paper - or, more likely, parchment - clutched in her hand. She thrust it at Jane, and Jane shifted Harry in her arms to take it.
"Allow me." Bond stepped forward and took Harry from her. Harry stared up at this new-to-him person and fretted just a little. He calmed, oddly enough, as Bond began to rub his back.
Which, Jane supposed, told anyone with eyes to see all they really needed to know about James Bond.
Figuring she'd need a good cuppa, if not something stronger, when she read the letter, Jane returned to the dining table. In the few minutes they'd been gone, Dudley had finished his biscuit and was stretching toward the plate for another.
Hopefully, the high chair was built to accommodate an active child.
"Milk, one sugar, please, and a glass of water for him - Harry, you said?" Bond said and he took a seat beside her, settling Harry onto his lap. Petunia scowled, but gave Dudley another biscuit before she sat to prepare Bond's tea.
Jane unfolded the parchment and began to read.
Petunia,
It is my sad duty to inform you that your sister Lily and her husband were murdered on Hallowe'en, casualties of a war with Tom Marvolo Riddle, a terrorist styling himself Lord Voldemort. You can take pride that they gave their lives in defense of the Wizarding World, as well as to save your nephew. Fortunately, your nephew, Harry, survived the attack.
You are young Harry's only remaining family on either Lily's side or James', and so I entrust him to your care.
Though Lord Voldemort himself appears to have been vanquished, many of his followers remain at large and would surely like nothing more than to avenge their master's defeat. Young Harry would naturally be their first target, and they have demonstrated they do not care about anyone else who might get in their way.
Therefore, I have placed very strong protective wards around your property. These wards are anchored to Harry and to you as his only remaining blood family. As long as Harry calls your house home, the wards offer absolute protection from Lord Voldemort. These protections will last until Harry reaches his magical majority at age seventeen, or he no longer calls your house home.
I know there are no words to comfort you in this time of grief, but please know that everyone who knew James and Lily shares your sorrow. They were well loved and are already much missed.
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
Order of Merlin First Class, Grand Sorcerer
Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
"That meddling, unmitigated bastard." Jane placed the letter gently on the table before her - gently, because otherwise she might accidentally destroy the table - and focused on her sister once more. "That's not an explanation."
"Isn't it?" Petunia asked. "He just dropped the freaky brat on our doorstep like a bottle of milk, without even a by your leave."
"That's not Harry's fault," Jane said, anger rising no matter how much she tried to keep calm - for Harry's sake, if nothing else. "What did he do to deserve being shoved into a boot cupboard?"
"Nothing," James said unexpectedly, and Jane glanced over to see that he'd pulled the letter toward him with his free hand. His expression mirrored her anger. "There's nothing a toddler could do to warrant that kind of punishment."
Petunia flushed. "We don't want the freak, but look at that letter - we don't have a choice! And he made Vernon angry, and it was easier… out of sight, out of mind."
"There's always a choice," James shot back, then focused on soothing Harry, who'd started to fret - though none of the adults had raised their voices, the tension in the room was almost palpable.
"You could have called me." Jane glared at her sister. "You should have called me. But you didn't, and now I'm of half a mind to report you to the child protection people."
Petunia flinched. "You can't!"
"I can," Jane returned evenly. "And the only reason I don't is that Harry hasn't been here long enough for there to be actual proof other than our word."
"Which," James added, "given that we both work for Her Majesty's government, would carry some significant weight."
Where Petunia had flushed with anger, now she paled with fear. Jane smiled grimly.
"As I see it," Jane said, "there are two choices. First, I take Harry away tonight. Whatever wards there are on this house would then fall."
"Which means those terrorists could find us!" Petunia snapped.
"Possibly," Jane said. "But I doubt anyone in the magical world knows your name, much less your married name, let alone how to find you. The second choice is that I buy this house from you, and you and your family move somewhere else."
Petunia blanched, her pallor made sallow thanks to the blonde hair framing her face. "I don't like either of those options."
Bond broke in before Jane could speak. "There's a third. Or second and a half, really."
"What?" Petunia looked almost childishly eager.
"Harry leaves here-" Bond held up a hand to forestall Petunia's protest. "And we send someone to erect other wards, wards not tied to his mother's blood."
"James-" Jane began, but he shot her a look and she pressed her lips together and let him speak.
"A fourth option," Bond continued, "is that we call the Child Protection Service. The charge may or may not stick, but it will certainly make your life severely uncomfortable for the foreseeable future, as you have another child in the house."
Jane hadn't thought her sister could go any paler, but now her complexion turned corpse-like. The consequence of such an investigation - that Vernon wouldn't get the directorship - was obvious.
Bond gave a hard grin and drove the point home. "I expect your husband wouldn't get that promotion you're looking forward to, but that's not my concern."
"The wards," Petunia said hoarsely. "I'll confirm with Vernon, but I want the wards. You take the brat, and we get replacement wards."
"Excellent choice," James murmured. "I don't suppose you have a child car seat for the lad?"
Petunia just scowled.
"Right. Moneypenny, if you would." James inclined his head toward Harry and Jane reached over to take him. "I'll be back as soon as I've secured one."
Jane settled Harry on her lap and offered him a biscuit as, with a final glare at Petunia, James left. A moment later, Jane heard a car door slam and an engine start.
"He's - quite the personality," Petunia said. "And quite handsome." Her expression shifted to a puzzled frown. "But not a boyfriend, not given that he called you Moneypenny."
Jane smiled, and for a moment she could almost believe they were young again, sharing secrets in the way that only sisters could do. "A co-worker. Our boss insisted he drive me. The news - was a shock."
Petunia ignored that last in favor of a shrewd look. "You'd like him to be, though. A boyfriend, I mean."
Jane shrugged. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. But we work together, and any relationship between us would be…difficult."
"But not impossible," Petunia said, and likely would have said more, but Harry and Dudley both started to cry, at the same moment, for no apparent reason.
Harry wiggled in Jane's lap, and with barely a glance at Petunia, Jane let him down. She hesitated for a moment, then let her wand slide into her hand and cast a spell.
"What was that?" Petunia's tone, like her body, had gone stiff.
"Just a barrier charm," Jane replied, holstering her wand once again. "So they can't climb up the stairs. I assume everything downstairs is child-friendly?"
Petunia nodded, only somewhat less stiffly, and Jane gave an exasperated sigh.
"Why shouldn't I use every tool at my disposal to keep the children safe?" she asked.
Petunia blinked at her. "What?"
"What I cast was nothing more than a baby gate," Jane said. "Which you don't have, at least not at the foot of the staircase. Why is that such a difficult thing for you?"
"It's magic," Petunia spat.
"So I should risk the children's safety because of your prejudice?" Jane asked. "I can't do that. And do note the charm also prevents Dudley from climbing the stairs and risking a fall that could seriously injure him. I don't expect gratitude for helping keep your son safe, but I would appreciate a little less anger."
Petunia looked away, though her expression held no remorse.
"I understand," Jane said softly. "I understand that you resent Lily and me for having enough magic to use a wand. But that's not the only kind of magic out there."
Petunia glanced back at her, her expression still grim.
"How many years have you won the Surrey Garden Show?" Jane asked. "Every year, I'd bet - it's a beautiful garden."
"Not every year," Petunia allowed. "The first two years, Davina Fife won, and I took third and second. But every year since."
"Because you have green magic," Jane said gently. "A green thumb. You could've been a brilliant herbologist, perhaps even a potionmaker."
Petunia's expression tightened even further, and Jane thought she saw tears gathering in the corners of her sister's eyes.
"You still could," Jane finished. "If you want to."
"I could've," Petunia murmured, sadness overlaying the words. "When I was younger."
"Even now," Jane said.
"Now?" Petunia snorted indelicately. "Now I'm a mum."
"How many children do you want?"
"What?"
"How many children do you want? Just the one? Two? A football team?"
Petunia looked at her, clearly horrified. "I'm not having eleven children!"
Jane chuckled. "Have however many you want. But having something just for you isn't a bad idea, either."
"I wouldn't know where to start," Petunia said helplessly, though her interest was certainly piqued.
"I'll send you some reference books," Jane offered. "Call it an early Christmas present."
"You'd do that for me," Petunia whispered, "after what I did to - to Harry?"
"I will probably always be angry about that," Jane said honestly. "But-" she took a breath, let it out slowly. "I can understand why you resented Lily and me, and I can't be angry about that, no matter how much I want to be. I keep thinking that if the genetic lottery had a slightly different outcome, we could've been in each other's shoes."
Petunia gave a watery chuckle. "I think you would've handled it better than I did."
"At that age?" Jane smiled and shook her head. "Likely not."
Whatever Petunia might have said was cut off by a squeal from the lounge. Both sisters rose and hurried into the other room-
-only to find Dudley and Harry play-wrestling on the floor. The squeal had been a happy one, judging by how well the boys were playing together.
"I hope," Jane said quietly after a moment, "that you won't let your distrust of magic deprive both our boys of the chance to know their cousin."
"I-" Petunia took a breath. "I don't know. Not right now. Ask me again - later."
Jane nodded an acknowledgment. She hadn't really expected Petunia to agree, but she had to say something - just as she had to offer,
"And if Dudley shows any signs of magic, call me."
Petunia flinched. "You think he will?"
"I think it's possible," Jane corrected. "Two of our mother's daughters have active magic - and we have different fathers. It's entirely possible that while you don't have active magic, your son could. Even if he doesn't, he very likely has passive magic like yours."
"I - I don't know what to do with that," Petunia admitted.
"Call me," Jane repeated. "And we'll figure it out. Together."
"Together?" Petunia sounded almost desperate.
"Together," Jane declared, then stood. "James should be back soon, and I want to get everything of Lily's that might be here. Harry will never know his parents in person, but he deserves to know them as much as he can - through things they owned and people who knew them, too."
Petunia nodded tightly, probably still horrified by the idea that her son might have active magic, and Jane pointed her wand toward the stairs.
"Accio anything belonging to Harry James Potter, James Fleamont Potter, or Lily Catherine Evans Potter."
Silence and stillness answered, and Jane told herself that she shouldn't be disappointed, that it was too much to hope that Lily or James had hidden anything in Petunia's home. It was the last place anyone would look, and even Lily, as smart as she was, wouldn't necessarily have thought of it.
Then the faintest of thumps sounded. Petunia heard it, too, judging by her sudden frown. Jane listened, and the thump came again.
"The lounge?" she asked, rising to her feet and returning to the lounge where the boys played.
"It sounds further away than that," Petunia answered as she joined Jane in the lounge.
A moment later, the thump sounded again, only slightly louder.
"Upstairs?" Jane asked.
"I think so."
Petunia led the way to the stairs and started up them - only to pause two steps up and turn back to Jane. "I thought the stairs were warded."
"Against children, not adults," Jane informed her. "It's for their safety, not to keep them prisoner."
Petunia nodded sharply, once, and continued up the stairs, pausing at the landing until the thump came again.
"The attic," she said and pointed to an access panel in the ceiling. "I'll get the stepladder."
"No need," Jane murmured and pointed her wand at the panel. "Alohomora."
The panel opened and a plain wooden box about the size of a travel packet of tissues floated down from the space above.
"It's - beautiful." Petunia reached toward it, but Jane caught her hand in hers.
"There's a compulsion charm on it," Jane said. "Probably keyed to Lily's blood, since we can feel it."
"Compulsion." The single world held so much contempt and disgust that Jane was surprised the very air around Petunia didn't burn with it. "What kind of compulsion?"
"At a guess, since we both feel it, it's to draw someone of Lily's blood to it." Jane absently closed the attic access panel with a nudge of magic and then cast a diagnostic charm on the box.
"But I didn't feel it until I saw it," Petunia objected.
"Because you don't have active magic," Jane said as realization dawned. "I didn't realize that's what I was feeling, but I think the charm made me cast the spell to retrieve Lily's things. Accio my bag."
Her purse came floating up the stairs as she holstered her wand. She caught the purse, opened it, and used it to scoop up the floating box before securing her purse once again.
Petunia looked fascinated by the whole process but Jane knew her sister well enough to know she wouldn't ask anything about magic.
"I'm being extra careful," Jane said. "I don't expect whatever charms Lily put on it - or James, or anyone else, for that matter - to be actively dangerous to anyone who shares her blood, but it's best to be sure."
Petunia nodded somewhat stiffly, and the two women returned to the kitchen, passing the still-playing children in the lounge on the way.
Petunia refreshed the tea in their cups and stared into the dark liquid in her cup for long moments before she spoke.
"Why didn't you tell me about passive magic before?"
Jane winced, briefly, and took a sip of her own tea while she gathered her thoughts. "Do you remember when that professor brought Lily her Hogwarts letter?"
Petunia gave a most unladylike snort. "Hard to forget, with the emerald green business suit straight out of His Girl Friday."
Jane chuckled softly. "Well, she spoke about Hogwarts in such a holier than thou way that I didn't want to hear what she might have to say about Beauxbatons, so I ignored most of what she said. But when you asked if you had magic, she said no so firmly that I figured she had some knowledge that we didn't - she was a professor, after all, at a very prestigious school. Surely she would know, wouldn't she?"
"One would think so," Petunia muttered.
"And after she left, well-" Jane smiled softly at her sister. "You grew to hate magic, so there was no point suggesting you might have even a little of it."
"And then we grew apart," Petunia concluded. Then she shook her head. "Then I pushed you away - you and Lily both, especially after Mum and Dad died."
Jane finished the last of her tea. "I'd like to be closer again, if only a little."
Petunia looked torn, chewing the lipstick off her bottom lip as she thought. "I'll try, Vi. That's all I can promise."
Jane smiled at her. "That's all I can ask."