Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: I began this story for a challenge, but couldn't finish it in time. I like it, though, so I'm posting this chapter in the hope that I'll then be motivated to finish it. Please review if you enjoyed it, or if you have any comments. Thank you!
Petunia opened her font door and shrieked. There was a baby on her doorstep! Well honestly! Cautiously, she bent over its basket to peer at the child. A nasty-looking cut bled on its forehead and Petunia suppressed a twinge of pity. When the baby blinked open its sleepy green eyes, the scrawny woman shrieked again.
Vernon Dursley came panting up to the front door. Pet, what's wrong? he bellowed.
Petunia's voice was faint. Vernon, it's Lily's boy. Someone's left him here! She was cradling the boy to her chest, having snatched him from his basket upon recognising him.
Close the bloody door, her husband snapped. Don't need the neighbours looking in!No, no, quite right, Petunia murmured to the baby, rocking him gently. She nudged the basket inside and shut the door. Vernon, look, there's a note.
The young couple settled themselves in the living room, their own son in his third cradle by the fireplace. His parents ignored his wailing with a patience born of long experience. Petunia still held the boy - Harry, his name was. Such a common name. Vernon held the note gingerly in his hands. He twisted his mouth in distaste as he broke the wax seal and unrolled the thick paper.
I hate that sort, Petunia, I really do. Look at this note, did you ever seen anything so weird?Vernon, read it!Dear Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursley - Vernon shot his wife a panicked look. They know who we are!Of course they do, Vernon, they left the boy here, didn't they?Right. Hrm. Dear Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursley, I regret to inform you of the deaths of James and Lily Potter at the hand of Lord, er, Thingy.
Petunia's eyes filled with tears. She had suspected this, of course, but to hear Vernon pronounce her sister's death was quite another matter.
Er - is - was - that your sister, dear? Vernon's eyes widened at the sight of his wife in tears. Petunia nodded, unable to speak. Vernon patted her awkwardly on the shoulder a few times before turning back to the letter.
Ahem. Right. The Potter's son Harry has miraculously survived the attack. We have ascertained that the best place for him is with you, his only surviving family. Petunia! They want us to -Yes, yes. Keep reading.
Vernon frowned, but did as his wife asked. Due to an ancient m - m - Petunia cut in.
Harry will be protected by his mother's sacrifice so long as he lives with her blood relatives. You will have care of him for the next ten years, until he is of age to attend Hogwarts School of, um, Whatnot. He must then spend his summers with you to ensure his continued protection. When he reaches the age of seventeen, your obligation to him will be fulfilled. If you agree to care for Harry, please sign the bottom of this, er, parchment. If you feel you cannot care for your nephew, send an owl to Hogwarts School of Whatnot and we will make alternate arrangements. Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore and there's a bloody great list of titles. This bloke thinks highly of himself, Pet. Petunia began, what do you think?I think whoever wrote this letter is a lunatic! All those goings on about protection and owls and - you know. The m' word. Never wanted anything to do with that lot.Oh, of course not! Petunia was quick to agree. No, we'll have to raise him to be normal, like us.Raise - you aren't seriously thinking of taking the blighter in, Pet?He's my nephew! And look at that letter, he hasn't a soul in the world to care for him. Why would they give him to us, else?
Vernon frowned. I still say -He's my flesh and blood, Vernon! And you know what the doctor said - after Dudley - well, don't you want another child? Her eyes again brimmed with tears.
Oh. Er. Hm.And think of the boy, if we don't raise him, they'll give him to one of their own families. I don't want my nephew raised by freaks!Hm, yes, when you put it that way ... Vernon trailed off. Must we, Pet? his wife answered. We'll treat him just as normal as can be, and he'll turn out all right. You'll see.Aye, I'll squash all the abnormalcy out of the little bugger.I don't want any freaks in this house, Petunia. We need to straighten the boy out!But Vernon, we musn't treat him badly. He'll never listen to us if we're always yelling. And he's such a good little thing. She rubbed his back. So quiet.I suppose, Vernon grumbled.
Petunia smiled at her husband. Now we can't keep calling him Harry. He'd be quite disappointed with a name like that, next to our Dudley. What do you think of Harold?Sight better than Harry.We'll put him in Dudley's second bedroom. They'll grow up just like brothers!Now don't go crying again, Pet. Vernon shifted in his seat, then stood. I'd bet get to the store. We're going to need another cradle, some nice plush bears, blankets, pyjamas ...Don't forget diapers. I'd say he's two sizes smaller than our Dudders. Oh, pick up some bottles, soothers, that sort of thing. He and Dudley oughtn't to share.No need for sharing! Vernon chuckled. They'll both have the best of everything, don't you worry.