Petunia Dursley stood near the barrier between platforms nine and ten at King's Cross Station, waiting for her only nephew to emerge. She had been partaking in this activity for many years, during the time her younger sister attended 'that school' and now for her sister's son.
Petunia and Lily had never gotten along extraordinarily well, mainly because Petunia never came up to Lily's standard of excellence. During her life, Lily had beautiful red hair that hadn't been seen in the Evans family for generations, but Petunia's unspectacular blond locks had always been irreversibly normal. Lily's eyes had been a striking green that drew the attention of old women in shops all over town, while Petunia's eyes had never once been called anything other than pale or dull. In primary school, Lily had often been told that she was the brightest young girl of her age, however, Petunia had always been deemed average. As a teenager, throngs of handsome admirers had followed Lily, and Petunia had spent most of her time with a small number of irrevocably average looking men. Lily was magically gifted and Petunia remained unremarkable.
Petunia Evans had never been a spiteful girl, but you see, it is very difficult to show compassion to someone who has everything you could ever want but will never have.
Lily had even bested her older sister in her choice of me. When James Potter had magically appeared on the Evans' back stoop with a box bewitched to hold presents for everyone and hair that seemed to be purposely styled to be out of place, he charmed every member of the household with his wit and generosity, while Vernon only managed to sit around with a sour expression on his face.
Yes. Petunia Dursley was a normal looking woman, with normal intelligence, who led a normal life, married a normal man, gave birth to a normal son, and had a normal family. When your existence has been that normal, it is exceedingly difficult to accept that some people lead lives that are slightly more exciting than normal. Normal had become the only respectable way of life for the past twenty-odd years of Petunia's life, and she had fought to maintain that normalcy even after an extraordinary byproduct of her sister's more than normal life landed on her front doorstep.
Everything maintained a normal image, and most everything still was normal. There was just one abnormal exception: Harry Potter.
She had tried to squash the abnormality from the boy as a child, but he only seemed to ooze more oddities. It was like stepping on a slug only to find it became slimier after doing so.
And she waited. Students began to file on to the platform wearing somber expressions and pushing trolleys with an almost remorseful air.
Petunia had seen this before, in her sister's final year at 'that school'. Fewer students appeared on the platform than usual, and those who did seemed to be ten years older than they had been when they left. The older boys and girls seemed to cling to each other for comfort, while the younger students followed in small, tightly clumped groups. They seemed to fear that if they let go of each other their friends and lovers would suddenly disappear from sight. Mrs. Dursley glanced about the group of students, searching for her nephew and his usual gathering of abnormality, and it was as if she were suddenly eighteen again. Her eyes widened as she watched a beautiful redheaded girl push a trolley onto the platform while clutching the hand of a scruffy looking teenage boy with wire-rimmed glasses. Petunia's eyes brimmed with tears as she watched the pair draw nearer to her small family.
Lily was alive and as abnormal as ever and Petunia realized she didn't care that the other girl was presenting the public display of affection with the scruffy looking boy. She also didn't care that her sister's wand was sticking out of the pocket of her jacket. Lily could be as abnormal as she liked, as long as she was back.
It took a great amount of effort to not reach out and hug the young girl in front of her, but on closer inspection Petunia was quite glad she had composed herself. The girl had brown eyes, not green. It wasn't Lily. The boy was not James. Petunia had mistaken one bane of her existence for another, and she swallowed a bitter laugh.
"These are my friends: Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. They're going to be staying with us for a while," the boy said, indicating to the redheaded girl, a tall boy that looked like he could be her brother, and another girl who was clinging to the other boy's hand.
Petunia couldn't even manage a protest as she gazed at the redheaded girl on her nephew's arm. Vernon however was beginning to turn a very violent shade of puce. Mrs. Dursley just nodded and turned to go back to the car, effectively silencing any violent protest her husband could possibly come up with. Anyone who really knew Petunia Dursley would be confused by the sight before them: a very normal woman leading two witches, a wizard, and the abnormality oozing spawn of her sister to the car that would return them to the still normal world of Number Four Privet Drive. The thought caused Petunia to chuckle out loud, making the redheaded girl behind her send the boy a worried look.
She really should have expected this when Lily's abnormality had gotten her killed. She really should have known that her sister would somehow managed to leave something behind that would produce just as much abnormality, if not more than she had during her days on the earth. Apparently young Harry and Ginny were her sister's way of thwarting her older sister's attempts for normalcy from beyond the grave.