Broken China Doll

by: pandorabox82

Chapter Six: Now You're No Longer Talking

Petunia was a bundle of nerves before Vernon left with Dudley for the day. From the looks she'd been getting the past two days, she wondered if he knew something was happening between her and Harry. She shut the door, after kissing him good-bye, and breathed a sigh of relief. Walking into the kitchen, she grabbed the wand box for where she'd left it that morning – in the refrigerator.

As she sat next to Harry, she opened the hinged box and removed a beautiful wand. To him, it appeared to be 10½ inches long, and made from cedar wood. "So, what's the core of your wand made out of?"

"I'm sorry, what? I have no idea what you're talking about. When Ollivander gave this to me, he didn't tell me anything about it."

"Did you ever try it out?"

"No. I'd forgotten about it by the time Lily came home after her first year there, and it's remained hidden ever since."

Harry picked up the wand, testing how it felt in his hand, swishing it around in the air a bit. A few blue sparks came from the end, so he knew it worked at least. Handing it to his aunt, he said, "Why don't you try what I just did, to see what's happens."

Petunia was amazed that the blue sparks showed up for her too, and she dropped the wand to the table, as if it had burnt her. "We should get on with today's part of the tale," she hurriedly said.

Harry nodded, giving his aunt a hard, appraising look that flustered her.

Looking down at the table, she said softly, "Today, I'm going to tell you about the death of your grandparents."

It was Halloween, and Vernon and Petunia had been married almost eight months. She'd quickly learned to please him, both in what she did around the home and in bed. She'd quit Grunnings to stay at home, because that's what he wanted. In her place, he'd hired someone who was in her twenties, a good stone heavier than her, and, to Petunia at least, a good deal prettier. She'd found it didn't do to ask Vernon questions about his decisions.

They were just leaving a party hosted by one of the managers at Grunnings, and since they were in the area, Vernon decided to call on her parents.

"So late at night, Vernon? Mum's most likely sleeping by now, she still leaves early for her job."

"It's not that late, darling. Besides, we haven't seen them since the wedding, and I'm certain your mother would love to see you." Though his tone was light, Petunia could still hear the threat that lay behind the words, and chose not to press the issue any further.

The closer to her old house they got, the more a sense of dread filled her stomach, causing her to shift uneasily in her seat. Looking out the window, she noticed that there was an odd green glow hovering over the houses near her family's. As Vernon drove ever closer, she was able to make out a shape in the clouds. Gasping at the ghastly image of a skull eating a snake, she urged Vernon to drive faster.

When he turned down her street, she saw that the cloud was hovering over her home. Seeing a burst of red, she knew that Lily was already there. Just as they pulled up to the driveway, the cloud disappeared, leaving the night sky full of only stars once more.

She opened the door and stepped into the crisp autumn air. "Lily, what's going on?" she cried out.

Lily ran up to her sister and threw her arms around her. "It's so horrible. Mum and Da are gone – he's killed them!"

"Who's killed them?" she asked, not realizing the meaning behind the words yet.

"Voldemort. He's been after James, and after he couldn't take us out the first time, he went after our parents. His were killed last week, and now, ours."

"Then, they're dead?" Petunia numbly asked, finally hearing and understanding what Lily was telling her. Lily nodded and then hugged her sister again, sobs wracking her body.

"Excuse me, Mrs Potter, Mrs Dursley, but we're going inside now. Perhaps you'd like to join us?" a kindly older man asked. Lily nodded and led Petunia into the house where they'd grown up all too fast. Memories assailed Petunia the minute she stepped over the threshold and she drew closer to Lily, seeking something from her she couldn't quite name.

"Your mother was attacked in the kitchen. Thank Merlin she was not tortured beforehand. Your father, on the other hand, was set upon by a Dementor," the man said as he led them to the parlour.

"What's a Dementor?" Petunia asked fearfully.

"A horrible creature," James responded. "They come into a place and suck every last bit of happiness out of it. That's how they survive. And if they get near a person, they'll take their soul with a kiss, leaving just a dry husk where life once was."

"And this is what happened to Father?"

"Yes, only one of the Death Eaters finished him off. I'm sorry that this had to happen, but we'd assumed they'd be safe. No one knew where your parents lived."

Petunia began backing away from Lily and her husband, a look of horror on her face. "It was your world that killed my mum. Your kind. You're going to end up just like them, you know. I'm so glad I was never right for you freaks. Who knows, maybe I'd be dead, too." Turning, she ran from the house and into Vernon's waiting arms. "They're dead. Lily's kind killed them."

"See, I told you that world was trouble. Let's get going, I heard one of them saying the police would be here soon, and that Lily would take care of everything."

Petunia nodded, and he led her to the car. The drive home was silent, neither of them feeling much like talking. Once in the house, Petunia hung her coat up and looked down at the costume she'd worn. She'd gone to the party dressed as what everyone had assumed was Alice in Wonderland. Only she'd known that she was really dressing as Sarah. Suddenly, she wanted to be rid of the offending costume, and she tore at the fastenings. Soon, she was clad only in her undergarments and she picked up the costume and threw it in the fireplace.

Making her way upstairs, she thought about her mother, and how she'd not be around to help her with any children she and Vernon might have. She swallowed a sob and went into the bedroom. Vernon was there, getting undressed. He'd put on a bit of weight, but she knew not to say anything about that, either. She moved to his side and wrapped her arms around him, trying not to shudder at the feel of his flesh against her. With sudden clarity, she knew that the one thing she most desired was a child, and there was only one way to get one. She kissed Vernon and then led him to the bed, letting him be with her, her mind trying to picture someone else in his place, someone who really loved her, not just when she pleased him, but every moment of every day.

At last, it was over and he placed a damp kiss on her forehead before rolling over and falling asleep. She prayed that night to a God she was no longer certain she believed in that she would have a baby to love as the outcome of this night.

"Congratulations, Mr and Mrs Dursley. Come July, you'll be parents," the doctor announced. Vernon looked at his wife, who was smiling to herself.

"A mum, I'll be a real and true mum," she whispered, turning to Vernon and throwing her arms around him. "We're going to be parents!" she exclaimed before beginning to cry. Vernon led her to the car and took her home. After making certain she was comfortable on the sofa, he left for work.

The months between the doctor telling them the good news and July seemed to drag by. It seemed to Petunia that she grew larger with every passing day, and the bigger she got, the more Vernon wanted to be with her. He was constantly touching her when he was home, rubbing her belly, petting her chest, and other things that drove Petunia to distraction.

She woke up early one morning in June with extremely painful cramps. While getting up to use the bathroom, she nearly doubled over in pain and realized it was time. "Vernon! We have to go to hospital! He's coming!" she shrieked.

Vernon was up, out of bed, and dressed in ten minutes and he drove her there as fast as he could. Once there, the nurse took charge and helped Petunia up to labor and delivery. Getting her changed into a hospital gown, the nurse then gave her an epidural and she no longer felt the pain of her contractions as much. Soon, Vernon joined her, along with her obstetrician.

She was in labor for what seemed like days, though it was really only ten hours. As the nurse wrapped up her son, Petunia cried in relief. Vernon had his son, and she had a child to spoil.

They sent an obligatory announcement to Lily and James that gave all the relevant details, like Dudley's weight – five pounds, twelve ounces, his length – eighteen inches, and the day of his birth – 17 June. Petunia never expected to hear back from her sister. But six weeks later, she was sent a similar announcement, telling of the birth of Lily's son, Harry, who'd been eight pounds, six ounces and twenty-one inches long at his birth, on the 31st of July. Lily had also sent along a silver rattle for Dudley, wishing him well.

Dudley grew fast, and it seemed to Petunia that he was hungry all the time. Her breasts ached from his near constant suckling and she couldn't bear to have Vernon touch them as he loved to do. Dudley was also a fussy baby, who soon learned his mother would jump at his every cry. Petunia had not intended to spoil him like this, but Vernon demanded it. He couldn't stand to hear Dudley cry after a long day at the office, and Petunia would do anything to keep him happy.

All the normal milestones came and went – like Dudley's first word (food), followed quickly by his second (won't). Petunia had weaned him by nine months, and at his checkup, the doctor said he was finally where other babies were, weight-wise. He'd been surprised that a preemie had been able to grow so fast, and this pleased Petunia no end. Her baby was completely normal. She never stopped to consider that her love for Dudley, combined with the talent she'd never been allowed to hone, was what had made the difference.

Dudley took up a lot of her time, and so the house work began to slip. Vernon noticed this and he berated her for not doing her duty. She pushed herself harder to make certain that everything was spotless for him, exhausting her body and mind.

About the time she began to wonder why Vernon wasn't forcing her to give him his husbandly rights, she found the lipstick prints on his collar. She was furious that he would betray her so, and she confronted him when he got home from work that day.

"So, how's the new secretary working out?"

"Oh, she's fine, dear. Good at shorthand, and at typing."

"Anything else she's good at, dearest?" she asked, a slight edge to her voice that he picked right up on.

"No, luv, nothing else," he shortly replied.

"Then how do you explain the lipstick I found on your collar this morning while I was doing laundry? I would certainly never wear that trashy a color."

She never saw his hand come up and slap her across the face. "That's none of your business, woman. Do you understand me?"

Mutely, she nodded, tasting the metallic tang of blood in her mouth. Tears spilled down her cheeks, but by now she knew better than to make a sound when she cried. Roughly, he grabbed her arm and dragged her up the stairs, leaving Dudley in his playpen in the living room. Petunia knew what was to come next, but it still hurt her heart to know she'd forced her husband into such a place that would make him lash out against her.

Vernon threw her on the bed and began fumbling with his clothes. A sharp knock came at the front door, and he looked at where she lay, sobbing softly into her hand. "Make yourself presentable and answer the door, slag. I'll be down in a few moments.

Carefully, Petunia stood and inched past him, smoothing her skirt. Silently, she made her way down the stairs. Upon reaching the door, she plastered a bright, fake smile on her face and opened it. Standing on her porch was a woman her age, or thereabouts.

"May I help you?" she asked, a slight quaver in her voice the only thing that betrayed her true feelings.

"Yes, I'm Yvonne Spencer. My husband and I just moved into the neighborhood and I thought I'd try to meet some of the nearby families. And you are?"

"I'm Petunia Dursely. Come inside, meet my family." Petunia led her into the living room, where she picked up her son and showed him off. They'd just settled into a conversation when Vernon made his appearance. Kissing his wife lightly on the top of her head, he took his son from her arms and introduced himself. "I'm Vernon. While I'm pleased my wife is making friends, I have an early morning meeting tomorrow, so we must be getting supper ready – early night and all, you know. Come by again, though. She needs to be occupied in some way."

With a smile that never quite made it to his eyes, he led the young woman out the door, before returning to his wife. She looked up at him, fear darkening her eyes as she unconsciously shrunk back into the sofa.

"You heard me, woman. I want supper ready in half an hour." He spun on his heel, taking Dudley upstairs with him.

Petunia stared after him for a moment, then hurriedly rose and began to make supper. In a short time, less than the half hour he'd allotted her, she had what she hoped to be a filling meal on the table. As she set their plates down in the respective places, Vernon placed Dudley in his chair, and then took a seat.

The meal went well, but Petunia was filled with a sense of apprehension. Vernon had that look in his eyes, the same her father had had when he'd been intending to hurt her. She picked at her food, her stomach threatening to rebel at any moment in sick anticipation of the punishment to come.

Abruptly, Petunia broke off her story, staring at the wall just above Harry's head. After a moment, she spoke once more. "I had to be taken to the hospital that night. Later, I found out I'd lost the child I'd been unknowingly carrying. I also lost any hope of having another baby, despite my highest hopes for a little girl to raise and love."

Harry slipped an arm around his aunt, and was surprised when she leaned into him. It seemed as if she was finally letting him in, as if excising the past was allowing her to feel once more. To his surprise, he no longer wanted her in this house of pain. But how to rescue her? The idea came to him in an instant. He'd have to write a few more letters, but he was almost certain that the answer would be yes. After all, she could never refuse a person who was hurting so badly.

"Aunt Petunia, have you ever thought that escape was possible?"

"Harry, there's nowhere for me to go."

"That's what I believed, too, once. If there was a chance, would you take it?"

"I don't think that way any longer. Hope is too painful to hold onto." She stood and began to pull out food for supper. "But, if there was the chance, I would," she softly said, almost to herself. Harry heard those quiet words and began to smile as he set the table for four.