Genre: Angst
Characters: Petunia Dursley
Word Count: 493
Rating: G
Written: February 2, 2006
He Took The Cold Away
I sat, my whole body shaking from the cold. I watched the news, the terrified news casters shouting things into their microphones as emergency rescue vehicles drove up to the smoldering house.
I knew what had happened, and I knew what was going to happen because of it. I also knew that my people couldn't do a damn thing about what had just happened. They were gone. My sister and that wretched husband of hers, gone. The baby was missing, most likely already gathered by that man... the best man at their wedding.
I shook my head, not wanting to believe what had just happened. She had made me promise, promise I wouldn't inform people that I knew, that I wouldn't warn the muggle community. She made me promise that if something like this happened, I would sit still at work the next day, and pretend how devastated I was that someone had set fire to an ancient house in a strange community, and how horrible it was that a young couple had died before they even began their own family.
And I did just that. After gathering my nephew from my doorstep the next morning, Vernon and I headed off to work, leaving Dudley and that boy with our sitter, a young girl who didn't pay much attention to either children. I sat in my office, occasionally having a colleague poke their head into the small room, asking if I was interested in covering the article about the young couple who had died the previous night.
Around twelve thirty, I had finished packing my belongings and headed out the door. I walked all the way home, as opposed to calling for a cab as I normally did... I didn't call Vernon to tell him I had just quit my job, I just went straight home, the light box sheltered under my right arm.
When I finally arrived home, I sent the sitter off, telling her she needn't come back again; I had decided to become a stay at home mother. I put Dudley to bed, and the boy immediately fell asleep. Then I went to retrieve my nephew from the play pen, and rested him in Dudley's old bassinette.
"Good night, Harry," I whispered softly, as the messy haired toddler closed his eyes. His green eyes... the eyes so like his mothers... like my sisters... Lily.
I had dreams for months, years, practically. Always the same red eyes glaring at me, not seeing me, threatening to harm me because of the protection I offered. I would wake up in a cold sweat, fearing these cold red eyes.
The coldness has long since passed, knowing now, that boy sacrificed himself so that the rest of the world could live without fear. So I no longer lived in fear. And each night, I kneel at the edge of my now lonely bed, always whispering the same prayer.
Thank you for taking the cold away.