Asagi5 presents a story about hypocrisy, deception, betrayal and the people caught up in it all.

Disclaimer: I own only the original characters in this story. All other characters belong to their rich owners.

NEW BLOOD INTERNATIONAL ACADEMY

Chapter One:

The State Of Things

Papa had loved Lily even though she was not the boy he so wanted. He bought her things, and drove her places and indulged in her whims with a smile and a sparkle of pride. When Lily did strange things Papa smiled at his daughter, calmed down her panic and hid his own terror that something was wrong with his princess. On that fateful day when Lily turned eleven, Papa rejoiced that his daughter was even more special than he thought and was silently relieved there was an explanation for the strangeness. He tried not to show alarm and dismay that this magic school was all the way in Scotland, and that...muggles such as they were not allowed to even visit. Not even when Lily was sick or injured. Despite the warning bells that were going off in the back of his head at the very obvious prejudice, it was Papa who eased the worry from his wife's eyes and reassured his elder daughter. A daughter that was very upset that she couldn't go with the little sister who she had spent the last eleven years protecting.

Lily had come back from her first year at Hogwarts a mean spirited, rude little thing that watched her family and their home and their world with judgemental eyes. She never brought any friends home, never introduced any friends to her family. Their parents had tried not to let it bother them, giving Lily more attention and treating her extra special in hopes of making up for their 'faults'. It pained Petunia to watch her mother scurry around when Lily was due to return, decorating and re-arranging and subjecting Petunia to answer several "Do you think Lily would like this colour Pet?".

All Mama got for her efforts was a look of scorn at the house's latest change and then a barrage of information on Hogwarts and how she was looking forward to going back to school. The then overt castings of pitying glances at her surroundings whilst their mother tried to hide her hurt infuriated Petunia. It was not like the magicals acted like they even wanted Lily. Dirty Blood they called her. A Mudblood.

In the following years Mama's smiles stopped reaching her eyes until one day she stopped smiling altogether. Petunia had never forgiven Lily for that. No parent should have to feel they're an embarrassment to their daughter. Their parents' funerals was the last time Petunia spoke to her sister. Even though Lily had desperately tried to re-establish communication with her elder sister after she had had her first child Petunia never replied.

Hence the morning following her younger sister's murder, it was a rather startled Petunia Rose Dursley who found her newly orphaned nephew in the early November drizzle on her doorstep. Never mind that it was approaching winter, or the child wasn't wearing the right clothing to be outdoors at night time, or even the fact that little Harry was of toddling age and could easily have woken up confused and toddled away.

Mrs Dursley, more than just a bit upset, quickly took the child inside and changed him out of his soaked clothing, already making a mental note to book an appointment with a paediatrician to ensure nothing was wrong. The irresponsible person didn't even have the decency to ring the doorbell! Upon finishing her inspection Mrs. Dursley bundled the child up in her own baby son's clothing, fed him, and laid him down next to his cousin to rest. Only when she had at last completed her task did she finally glance at the letter sitting in the basket, though its contents would only be confirmation at this point.

Lily was dead.

Petunia was not a fool. Her sister, no matter how much of a rotten brat she had grown up to be, would never leave her baby lying on a doorstep. Tears prickled at the back of Petunia's eyelids though it had been many a year since Petunia had cried on the topic of her sister. Lily was dead, and her sister's people had promptly displayed their normal lack of common sense by placing Lily's newly orphaned baby on a doorstep. Worse yet, they couldn't even tell Petunia of her sister's passing to her face.

The response to the short handwritten letter (more a note) was probably not what the sender had intended as an extremely red-face Petunia Dursley practically shook with rage. That..that walking pile of expired bones with the ridiculous beard had had the gall to threaten her into keeping the boy! Not only that, but the man had dropped the child off without anything to his name. There wasn't any information for Petunia on how to contact anyone nor financial information nor lawyer contact details nor even the child's birth certificate! She didn't even know if the boy's parents had left a will! And what was this about surviving an unbeatable death spell thrown by some dark tosser with an attitude? Had the child even been seen by one of their kind's doctors before he was delivered like a bottle of milk? It was this look that greeted Vernon Dursley as he walked into his kitchen.

Now Vernon Dursley was a man of principle and duty. He believed that it was one's duty as a man to provide and protect one's family. He worked hard at a local drill company in order to keep his little family of three financially comfortable and happy and even though it sometimes made him uncomfortable, he provided emotional support for his lovely Petunia as well. Hence, Vernon was alarmed to find his usually calm and happy wife so angry. He did not bother to ask what was wrong as Pet normally stuttered terribly when she got truly angry. Spotting the offensive piece of crushed stationery (old fashion parchment of all things), he gingerly took the letter out of his wife's shaking hand and read it himself...and promptly started taking deep breaths in order to calm down. He quickly abandoned that and started a long string of stuttered curses that expanded at least five different languages.

The nerve of this Dumbledore! Who did he think he was threatening them! This was the exact reason why he disliked wizards they honestly thought they could get away with anything. It was a wonder they had any law enforcement at all what with being able to get whatever they wanted with a wave of a wand. A frown creased his forehead as he re-read the letter and looked around for the child spoken about. How were they supposed to afford another child? They could afford their one son yes but the Dursleys had carefully planned out the arrival of their son to coincide with a certain level of financial stability. Vernon was pretty sure money would begin to run short at their financial level if they added another child right now. Easing his considerable girth into a chair he started to give the problem some thought with all of the analytical ability that would one day make him a very valuable employee of Grunnings. He would put out a feeler for a childless couple within their social circle.

They never would send the boy to an orphanage. He was Petunia's nephew after all and blood should always be looked after, but they just could not afford another child right now. These people really should have consulted them on this. So he would see about putting the boy with a nice financially stable couple who was also open-minded and would appreciate the joy of a rambunctious little toddler around the house regardless of his magical status. Perhaps a couple located close enough so Pet could visit regularly and the boy could sometimes spend the night here off and on. Yes, that ought to satisfy that blood requirement nonsense. Just how far did these wards extend anyway? The old bastard had given so little information...

Upon seeing his wife calming down he pitched his idea to her with all the smoothness of a true business man, internally pleased to have diffuse such a potential time bomb. Pet really was stubborn on the topic of her sibling and Vernon would hate to see the little tyke grow up under the resentment that would fester if they were to keep him. Especially after that old geezer's threats...

5 hours later Vernon had gone to work, and Petunia dropped off the now wide awake toddlers at the little town's local biddy who welcomed any stray babies that came her way. Harry had asked for his momma before she left. Petunia, lost on how to explain death to a one year old, shoved the toddler into Mrs. Walker's arms quickly and hurried away with her eyes stinging for the second time that day. She had no time for this.

Focus Petunia. Focus.

With several empty bags and boxes in her car, a couple of days' clothing and an old sentimental letter from Lily that would allow her to bypass any wards on the property, Petunia set out to Godrics Hollow. She was hoping that the place would at least be devoid of magical people so that she would be able to gather little Harry's things in peace. His clothing of course, toys, picture books. Maybe a few future school books as well since the boy was probably like his parents. Hopefully she would also stumble upon some sort of legal documents that might have a lawyer's name or even Harry's Birth Certificate. Anything that could at least provide the child with some sort of identification and legal and financial protection within their world.

Sighing, it occurred to Petunia that she might have to handle the issue of the house as well. Godric Hollow, according to Lily, had a muggle and a magical side with the magical side being well hidden. It was perhaps fortunate that the Potters' house was on the very edge of the muggle side and being a gift from their parents to Lily was registered in her name in the normal world. At the least Petunia planned to pack it away with some minimal yearly maintenance until the boy's majority. Maybe even see if it was possible to remove all magical items from the property and rent it out. That would help with any financial expenses with the boy and the extra could be placed in a bank account. That would give the child a nice little sum come his majority. It might not matter if the boy ends up going to stay in his parents' world but Petunia always believed in having a little money put away for one's child.

Petunia Dursley had nothing against Harry, it was only that she knew her shortcomings well. She feared, perhaps rightly so, that as time went on she might pass the resentment of mother onto son, seeing similarities where there were none and damning the boy to a miserable childhood. This would be rather unfortunate on both Harry, who had yet to commit his mother's crimes, and Petunia, who would prefer never to become such a person. However, shirking her duties as the child's last blood relative also made her uncomfortable and indecisive on whether she should follow Vernon's suggestion.

Lily was dead.

Petunia gently closed her eyes and once again pushed the thought away.

"Focus" she whispered to herself.

"Focus on what needs to be done."

Three days later, Petunia pulled up in front of the late Potters' two-story house and sighed with relief when she saw no magicals about. Grabbing a few of the bags and clutching Lily's letter tightly in case of any wards, she matched up the walkway with purpose and entered the abandoned home. Looking around she immediately noted very obvious magical items though it was obvious that the magicals had already been by and had tidied up the place a bit. Going up the stairs she noted four doors and went through each one looking for the nursery. Reaching the last door that she rightly assumed led to the nursery, she swung the door in...and promptly had to stuff her shirt in her mouth to muffle her scream. Sliding down the wall Petunia stared with wide eyes streaming with tears and screamed for a solid minute. It was not the singed curtains or the upturned cradle or the black scorch marks on the floor or even the blackened walls caused obviously by fire of some sort that invoked this reaction.

There, lying on the floor not five feet away was the open blanked-eye corpse of Lily Potter nee Evans.

Dirty blood they had said.

A Mudblood.

James Potter's body, the body of a Pureblood was nowhere to be found in the house.

So Petunia Evans Dursley, a woman who had already been through so much in her life, placed her hand on her chest and muttered a promise through her tears and horror. Then she clenched her jaw, got off the floor and straightened her back like she had done so many times in her life. She would go home and raise her sister's boy and make arrangements. Lily would need a proper funeral. She was an Evans and Petunia would see to it that as an Evans her little sister would receive the absolute best that she could give her.

Ten years later a black-haired green-eyed boy smiled up at the huge man called Hagrid that came to tell him about magic. And though Dumbledore did not notice it until it was too late, Harry Potter was a rather different boy than the unwanted and possibly abused child he was expecting to come to Hogwarts.

Petunia, he would learn later, had never forgiven them.