I decided to post this earlier than I intended because I got a few new followers and favorites and I like the fact that someone's waiting to read what I'm writing, and likes it. Hope this doesn't disappoint.
Disclaimer: We already went over that. I own nothing.
No Longer Ignored
Harry woke up to the lady scribbling on a piece of paper. She didn't seem to notice the few tears that escaped her eyes. She looked sad and a little angry. She played with the piece of paper, reading it, perhaps. Harry wondered if the lady would read it to him. His mummy and daddy liked to read to him. He sniffled as he thought about the last night they did, when they all snuggled up in a giant bed, with Harry and Kitty in the middle. He could not understand what his mummy and daddy read, but the last story they told him was about a character whose name he liked to try to pronounce. Babby or Babbitty.
Harry sniffled again. He somehow knew his mummy and daddy could no longer help him pronounce the words.
Petunia looked down at her sister's son, her new ward. She wondered if he was sick. She placed her hand on his head and found it a bit warm. She retrieved the medicine she bought and gave him the right dosage. He drank it without trouble.
Petunia walked to Dudley's bedroom and found some pajamas for Harry, reminding herself to purchase some smaller clothes for him later. She changed the sleepy child, noting how quickly the medicine made him drowsy, and thought of where to let him sleep for the night. She peered around the room, unconsciously looking for ideas, when her eyes landed on a blanket. She walked with Harry in her arms to the linen closet and took out an armful of soft sheets. She carried them and the boy downstairs to the living room. She set the sleeping boy down in the middle of a couch cushion, making sure he didn't fall, and set up a make-shift bed on the floor.
Vernon watched his wife silently move around, picking the boy back up and walking upstairs again. She came down again with pillows from their bed and placed them on top of the blankets on the floor in the middle of the sitting room. Vernon did not know what changed in her between now and this morning, but it made him wary. He didn't know why Petunia seemed to care about this child. He read the letter she threw onto the porch and knew all about him. Yet his wife coddled the child as if he were her own and not some spawn of freaks.
Finally settled, Petunia walked over to Dudley, who fell asleep long ago, and kissed his temple. She kissed a dumbstruck Vernon on the cheek, muttering a, "Goodnight," before dimming the lights in the kitchen and walking with Harry back to their bed. She laid the child gently onto a pillow before scooting down next to him.
Still bewildered, Vernon took his child upstairs and readied them both for bed, deciding to deal with the confusion of today tomorrow.
A dark owl flew through the night, stopping in front of a clean glass window of a clean and overly-normal house. His beak made a soft tapping sound that broke through the haze Petunia found herself in. She glanced at Harry before carefully standing up to go investigate the insistent tapping sound. She found an owl waiting outside her window with a piece of parchment tied around his ankle.
Petunia felt an unexpected jolt in her stomach accompanied with the dread of the response to her earlier message.
She shook off the feeling and opened the front door, allowing the owl to glide in. It landed on the back of a chair and held out its leg. Petunia walked slowly toward it and carefully extracted the parchment from it. The owl nipped gently at her finger before flying out the door, back into the night.
Petunia stood frozen, staring through the open door, into darkness. She shook her head, as if to clear it, and shut the door. Focusing back on the parchment in her hand, she unraveled the string that tied it and read the unfamiliar spidery scrawl:
I'm sorry.
Petunia frowned. She observed the parchment for any information about the cryptic message, but found nothing, not even a name of who sent it or who it was addressed to.
She wondered who was sorry and why, but could think of only herself and how she treated her sister. Petunia would never get the chance to say these words to her sister as this person said them to her. For the first time since she received the news, Petunia let go. She sobbed silently with only the moonlight and Harry's soft snores to comfort her.
"Lily," she whispered, "I'm so sorry." The admission sent her into another round of silent tears.
As she became too tired to cry, Petunia crawled back into the bed on the floor and snuggled up to the sleeping little boy who smiled with the warmth she brought him.
The next morning, Petunia woke to Harry looking up at her. She raised a brow at him and he smiled. She could not help but grin back. An odd look came over the little boy's face and she soon smelled why. A small laugh broke through her and she stood, bringing the little one with her. She saw a flutter in the corner of her eye and turned to see the apology on the ground. She frowned and picked it up, placing it in her pocket. Only then did she realize she slept in her regular clothes.
Shrugging slightly, Petunia walked upstairs to change Harry and use the restroom. Petunia knew they both needed to bathe, so she found a baby chair in Dudley's room to secure Harry in while she took a shower. After, she dressed and added warm water to the tub.
Harry beamed at the lady, delighted to take a bath. He loved baths, especially when his mummy made his toys come to life and play with him. The lady didn't bring toys but she added bubbles, and he liked bubbles.
Petunia smirked at the happy little boy, guessing quickly that he must love baths. Harry proved her theory when he giggled as she placed him in the tub.
Vernon woke up before his alarm and the first thing he heard was a child's giggle accompanied by splashing water. He smiled, thinking his wife finally came to her senses and decided to have a little bonding time with her son to make up for the mess of yesterday. He rolled out of bed, walked to the bathroom door, and peered through the crack of it. He frowned. That was not his son in the tub. Vernon's frown deepened as he watched his wife gently bathe the boy, as if he were her own.
He opened the door. "What are you doing?" The words came out harsher than Vernon intended, making the boy and his wife jump. The boy looked up with freakishly large, green eyes.
Petunia saw the fear in them. She turned to Vernon with a stony expression. "Giving Harry a bath," she stated matter-of-factly.
"Why aren't you giving Dudley a bath?" Vernon asked a bit defensively.
Petunia raised a brow. "Is he awake?" Her tone said she already knew the answer.
"Well, no," Vernon grumbled, "but—"
"'But' what, Vernon? Shall I wake him this early in the morning just because you really want him clean?"
Vernon frowned, nearly pouting. His thick moustache quivered. "No."
Petunia sighed. "Go prepare your clothes for today. I'll finish this up and make breakfast."
Vernon nodded and turned to leave.
"But, Vernon," Petunia called. Her husband turned back. "We'll talk about this later."
Vernon frowned and left.
Petunia sighed again and turned to Harry. She found his eyes still staring where Vernon stood, with a small amount of fear and a large amount of curiosity in them. "Don't worry," she assured him, not sure why she felt the need to, "he's harmless."
Harry grinned up at her shyly and wiped some of the bubbles onto his head, the large, jiggly man temporarily forgotten.
After the bath, Petunia found some of Dudley's old clothes and dressed Harry. She walked downstairs and sat him in the high chair. Harry watched her move around, finding cookware and food. Petunia grabbed one of Dudley's bottles from a cupboard and poured some juice into it. She handed Harry that and a small bowl of dry cereal. Harry smiled in thanks and began happily munching on his breakfast.
Vernon came downstairs as soon as he smelled bacon. Harry saw his fat belly first, then the rest of the man appeared. Vernon frowned at the boy in his son's chair but didn't say anything. He only sat down and waited for breakfast.
Petunia filled up one plate and placed a significantly smaller portion of food on another. She handed Vernon the larger amount and he tore into it after a quick, "Thank you." Petunia nodded and began her own meal.
The two finished at the same time and Vernon stared at his wife expectantly.
Petunia frowned. "What?"
"Aren't we going to talk?"
Petunia shook her head. "Not right now. Tonight, after we put the boys to bed. Which reminds me, I need to go shopping for Harry's things." She murmured the last part to herself.
Vernon glanced at the child. "What does the boy need?" he muttered.
"Many things. For one, a bed. We can't keep sleeping on the floor."
"No one asked you to sleep with him anywhere," Vernon grumbled.
"What was that?"
"Nothing," Vernon answered quickly. "Where are we getting the money for this?"
Petunia gave him an exasperated look. "We'll be fine. We will just need to cut back on some things."
"Like what?" Vernon asked snidely.
His wife sighed. "Not now, Vernon."
Vernon hid a scowl and stood, carrying their dishes to the sink. "I'm going to finish getting ready for work."
Petunia nodded. "Oh, check to see if Dudley is awake."
"Now you care," Vernon mumbled to himself.
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing, dear."
Petunia narrowed her eyes at his retreating form then shook her head. She never thought this would be easy, she just hoped it wouldn't be this hard.
After cleaning up breakfast, Petunia heard Dudley's screams gradually getting louder. A few seconds later, Vernon appeared, dressed for work, with an irate Dudley in his arms. He kicked and screamed in his dad's arms, limbs flailing about. Vernon walked his boy over to the high chair where Harry watched them with wide eyes.
Vernon glanced at Harry then stared at Petunia expectantly. "Are you going to move him?" As Vernon said this, Dudley gave one forceful kick.
Petunia heard the hit and turned quickly to see a large, red mark the size of Dudley's foot on Harry's cheek. She waited, in horror, for the screams to come as she rushed to him. Harry didn't scream.
Petunia's heart nearly broke. Harry didn't scream or cry out. He only stared at her husband and son with the saddest expression and tears in his large, green eyes. He turned to Petunia and sniffled. He rubbed his cheek.
Petunia's heart did break. She was furious.
"Vernon!" Her husband, who saw the accident but did nothing, looked at her with a surprised expression. She picked up Harry and held him protectively against her side. "You wanted to talk, let's talk. Harry," she gave her husband a pointed look, "is now under my protection. I'm sure you understand why, considering you read the letter." (Vernon had the decency to look abashed.) "This is not temporary, this is not something you can ignore. Harry will be treated as our child, because, as of now, he is. You have no say in the matter, just as I didn't. Just as Lily didn't." Her voice broke on her sister's name. She took a deep breath. "You and I will both take care of this child as we do our own. Dudley will treat him as family, and we will both teach him to. Harry is family—"
Vernon tried to protest, "I—"
"If you're not willing to accept this—if you're not willing to agree—then leave. Now."
Vernon's face was red. "You would choose this child over our marriage?"
Petunia held Harry a little closer. "Harry is not any child, he is my sister's child."
"You're sister the freak?" Vernon asked evilly. Rhetorically.
"DON'T use that word in this house." Petunia's blue eyes burned coldly into Vernon's brown.
Vernon scoffed. "Yes, yes, 'don't speak ill of the dead,' as they say," he said dismissively.
Petunia wanted to slap him. Or cry. Or both. She gritted her teeth to keep from doing either. "Go to work, Vernon," she sighed.
Vernon backed up a step, holding Dudley to him. "And leave him with that f—child? And you?"
"Me?"
"That child has been messing with your mind. He's been working his-his spells on you!"
Petunia glared at him. "You're an idiot," she said flatly.
"You say this is something we can't ignore, yet you're ignoring your entire life with that—"
"Enough!"
Harry jumped but made no sound—a large contrast to Dudley's attention-seeking wails. He'd been ignored long enough, and this gave him a perfect opportunity to regain some notice, and food. He wanted food.
Vernon tried to calm him down, but the screaming only amplified. Dudley wanted his mum. He reached to her.
Petunia glared at her stubborn husband. "Vernon," she spoke in a defeated tone, "go to work. I'll take care of the kids."
Vernon hesitated then handed over his child grudgingly. He didn't want to be late. He left without a 'goodbye' to any of them.
Petunia sat Dudley in the high chair and handed him a bowl of cereal with a bottle of chocolate milk. He happily ate in silence.
Petunia found a plastic bag and some ice cubes to put in it. She wrapped the bag in a thin cloth and held it over Harry's cheek, which blessedly lessened in colour. Harry smiled shyly up at the lady. The lady grinned back.
Hours later, Petunia and the boys found themselves back home from a long shopping spree. Dudley cried nearly the entire time after he realised none of the items were for him. Harry watched in silent wonder at the many objects in the superstore. He tried a few times to calm Dudley by pointing out the really interesting ones, like the large televisions, the shiny telephones, and colourful toys. This did not help calm the crying boy, it only reminded him of everything he wouldn't have. Harry seemed to figure this out and resumed admiring alone. Petunia heard his gasp and peered at the toy that caught Harry's eye. The little boy gazed in awe at a small, ruby red train making its way around a miniature track, puffing real smoke.
Petunia sat Harry and Dudley on the floor in front of the telly. She watched them as she put away all of her purchases, deciding to set up anything that needed assembly later. Not including the present she bought for Harry.
Petunia didn't know why she bought the toy. Harry's birthday passed a few months ago, if she remembered correctly, and Christmas was a few months away. But, Harry is part of the family now, Petunia thought, and Dudley has so many toys...
Petunia quietly set up the train on the box it came in. She carried it out on the make-shift tray to the boys sitting in front of the television. She set it down behind them and Harry turned around. He smiled up at her before moving his gaze to the shiny new toy in front of him.
Harry's eyes widened and he beamed up at the lady. He looked at her questioningly, and she nodded in reply. He let out a giggle and crawled toward the train.
Petunia smiled and pushed the little button on the bottom of the tiny train, then placed it back on the track. Harry watched in joy as the train whistled and puffed its way around the track.
Dudley turned to see what was more important than his show and saw the train from the store. He frowned. This wasn't like his usual presents, but he'd take it. It was quite shiny, after all. He moved to grab the train off the track, but his mum pushed his hand out of the way. He frowned up at her, confused.
"This is for Harry," Petunia said gently.
Dudley shook his head. Why would Harry get a gift from his mum? This boring toy was obviously his. Dudley reached for the small locomotive again. And again, his mum moved his hand.
"This is for Harry," Petunia repeated. "He may share it with you, but it is for Harry."
Dudley kept hearing 'Harry,' when his mum talked about his present. Why would she give this boy her son's toy? Dudley started to cry and reached for it again. Petunia moved his hand and he cried louder, he even managed real tears. But his mum never relented. He stopped.
Petunia stared back at her son. "Things will be a bit different around here, Dudley," he probably didn't understand her; but this needed to be said, if not for him, then for herself. "Harry is part of the family and he will be treated as such. You will be nice to Harry, okay? Because family is..." She trailed off. Who am I to talk about the ways of siblings? She cleared her throat. "Because you are supposed to care for your family...no matter their...differences..." Petunia took a deep breath and leaned down to look Dudley in the eyes. "Now say you're sorry."
Dudley frowned, then looked at Harry.
His cousin smiled back and pointed at the train.
"Sorry," Dudley mumbled a bit reluctantly. Though, in his baby speech, it sounded more like, 'Sarwy.'
Petunia grinned. As did Harry, who pointed at the shiny, red toy, and asked Dudley, "Play?"
Dudley nodded.
Petunia smiled. "Why don't I bring down some of your toys, Dud?"
The little one in question frowned, then seemed to change his mind and nodded. Petunia quickly retrieved some of Dudley's toys and set them down in front of the two. Harry looked fascinated and picked up a little motorcycle. "Paddy," he whispered, and moved the bike around, as if to make it fly.
Dudley gave him an odd look, then picked up another motorcycle and ran it around the carpet. He added sounds for effect. Harry giggled at his cousin, then mimicked him. Soon, the room was filled with vrooms and giggles. Petunia smiled at her two boys, hoping beyond hope the worst was over.
I'm still not completely sure where I'm taking this story, but it seems to form itself and I'm just going to follow it. It seems a bit slow to me, but hopefully it'll pick up some speed in future chapters.