Broken China Doll
by: pandorabox82
Chapter Eight: The Sound of One Hand Clapping
It had been hard not to give herself away. There was an excitement stirring in her, as if something old was awakening, anxious to return home. She'd made Vernon's favorite breakfast and sent her husband and son off to work warmly for the first time in almost a week. Vernon had given her an odd look, but since Potter had yet to show his face in the kitchen that morning, he figured her good mood likely came from that. Or so she hoped he thought.
As soon as she heard the car leave the yard, Petunia hurried up the stairs and into Harry's room. A trunk sat in the middle of the floor, and it contained some of her clothes and other things she wanted to take with her. She'd asked Harry if there was any way that Dudley could come along, but he had gently reminded her of how Vernon would hunt her down if she did something like that. She knew, deep in her heart, that he was right, but her soul still ached at the prospect of leaving her son behind.
"Do you think we can talk and pack? It would save us some time if we did."
"Whatever works best for you, Aunt Petunia."
"Since this is my last day here, I'll tell you the last bit of the story. It's about how you came to live in the cupboard under the stairs and why."
At first, Petunia had thought it might be hard to look after two toddlers. But where Dudley was loud and rambunctious, Harry was quiet and reserved. She never had to worry about him, but found that she came to love the time that Dudley napped and she could hold her nephew. She felt so young when she held him, so different from when she held her son. It was an awful thought, but she had quickly come to love Harry just as much, if not more, than her own son.
Vernon began to notice the attention she was giving to Harry and he started mentioning it to her. Soon, it was more than words he was using, and she began to back off with the attention when Vernon was home.
It wasn't long, though, before Harry began to show characteristics of his father. Petunia, despite her best intentions, began to avoid contact with him, allowing him to play in the closet beneath the stairs, as long as he was out of her way. This was also a signal to Dudley, who began to pick on his smaller cousin, though never where his mother could see, as she would still come to Harry's defense.
School had been a nightmare for Petunia and the children. Harry had taken to his studies, like his mother and aunt, which hurt Dudley's feelings – he'd been told by his father he was much brighter than the Potter brat. This caused him to bully his cousin more, which the other kids in the class picked up on as well, leaving Harry the outcast.
Yet he still brought home excellent marks and glowing praise from his teacher. Vernon was less pleased with this than Petunia. To Petunia, his excellent marks seemed to indicate to her the unlikelihood of his belonging to that world. She glossed over the fact that whenever Harry was angry or upset, something broke. That was usually just chalked up to coincidence, even though the thing that usually broke was Dudley's.
Vernon also began to notice these coincidences and sent Harry to stay in the cupboard beneath the stairs more and more often. Soon, a mattress was put down there, and that became Harry's room. She knew he didn't like it much, but she rationalized this treatment as being better than being hit all the time, or worse.
Soon, Vernon had Harry helping her with chores around the house. She'd always loved gardening, but had abandoned it with the birth of Dudley. Now, with Harry's help, she had a beautiful garden once more. Petunia was glad to have the company, as all Dudley wanted to do was play video games on the telly. Harry never spoke much when they were in the garden, and in that respect he seemed much like Petunia had been at his age. She longed to take him in her arms, but knew he wouldn't let her. Not since she'd defended Dudley's bullying of him. She had been unwilling to see her only son as an aggressor, not wanting to identify her father and Vernon in Dudley's personality traits.
After a while, the silence between them grew unbearable and Petunia left her garden in his care, only coming outside to give him orders about how to do things the proper way. Then, she'd watch from the kitchen as he pulled weeds, watered flower beds, and pruned shrubs. He was a quick learner, and Petunia was grateful for that.
Vernon kept adding to his chore list, and soon, his grades began to suffer from that. Dudley was pleased his cousin was doing badly, as it made him look even better. It was also about this time that all the weird coincidences began to occur with greater frequency. Petunia tried to shrug it off, but found that she couldn't. Lily's escape had become Harry's destiny, and insidiously, Petunia began to hate that part of him. She had hoped to keep him away from that world, safe from becoming a savior to a world that had killed his mother and father, his grandparents. It had all been in vain, though, as she was confronted by the evidence of his freakishness.
All too soon, her behavior mirrored Vernon's, and she believed if she could act like she hated him, when his world came to take him back she wouldn't hurt so much. Nor would the news of his eventual death cause the grief that Lily's had.
The day the owls began to come, she knew he was soon to go. That world, his world, called out in the very blood that ran through his veins. She didn't want to let him go off to what she believed to be his certain death, but what could stop it? Certainly nothing she or Vernon did.
Even as she drove him away with her hateful words, a part of her was grieving for the loss of him to them. She'd held on to him as long as she could, and now it was their turn to have him and mold him into something like his father and mother had been.
"So, you see, I did fall victim to my own prejudices against your world. A selfish part of me wishes I had ended the whole thing by sending the owl back with our answer of refusal, that I had kept you here with me, somewhat safe."
"Had you done that, though, we all might have died. Voldemort is looking for immortality and power, and it looks like I am going to be the savior of the magical world. To a lot of them, I'm only 'The Boy That Lived', some distant person they idolize." He paused in his packing to look at her. "I don't want to die, but if it meant saving my friends, I'd gladly do so. That's the you in me, Aunt Petunia. I'd do anything to protect those I love."
They spent the rest of the morning packing in silence. Petunia was uncertain of her living arrangements once she got wherever she was going, and so included towels, sheets, pillows, all the basics she would need to begin again. Then Harry went through and put a low level concealing charm on all the closets that were missing things so that Vernon wouldn't notice them being gone. The pictures that Petunia decided to take he could do nothing about, as that required more magic than he had been allowed to use.
They both heard a car in the drive at the same time, much earlier than usual. Looking out between the curtains, Petunia saw that it was Vernon, and fear gripped her heart.
"Just follow my lead, Aunt Petunia. Don't worry, everything will be all right." He gave her a small smile, and then opened his mouth. "I don't care what you say, I'm going to stay with her the rest of the summer! Her parents invited me!"
"What part of no do you not understand? It's absolutely out of the question. I've forbidden you to do this, and yet you persist in rebelling. Just wait until your uncle gets home, he'll take care of this, believe me. You'll never see the sun until September first if I have my way!"
"I'll sneak out if I have to – I've done it before, you know! You can't hold me here!" Harry stormed out of the room and ran into his uncle, who grabbed his arm in a painful grip.
"Boy, were you yelling at you aunt?"
"And what if I was? There's nothing you can do about it. I can apparate now, meaning I can go wherever I please, just by thinking about it hard enough. There's nothing either of you can do to hold me here!"
Vernon's face turned red with rage. "Get in your room, boy, and if you know what's good for you, you'll stay there for a few days!" He walked into his room, and saw his wife sitting on the bed crying. "I knew something has been going on these past few days. You just haven't been yourself lately. What has he done to you?"
"Nothing, dearest. It was just a little argument. But what are you doing home so soon?"
"I forgot to tell you this morning that we're going away for a few days. We'll be leaving as soon as I get home from work tonight. Ted offered me the use of his cottage near Brighton, and I told him we could really use the time together, just the two of us. Like old times, right, Pet?"
She gave him a wan smile and replied, "How wonderful to get away. But do you think it's wise to leave the Boy here with Dudley?"
"He knows enough to not try any funny business on my son. Don't worry, I have everything under control. Make certain you have your bags packed by the time I get home, I want to leave right away." He gave her a sloppy kiss before exiting the room.
Not until she heard the motor start did Petunia remember to breath. Quickly standing from the bed, she raced to Harry's room, her eyes bright with unshed tears. The room was completely empty, save Harry and his broomstick. "Harry, where's the trunk? What are we going to do?"
"Do you trust me, Aunt Petunia?"
"Of course, why?"
"We're leaving, now. I've sent Hedwig on ahead of us with a message for our hosts. Obviously, there's been a slight change of plans."
"But how are we are going to get there? You can't drive, besides, there's no other car."
"There's my broomstick. I don't have a portkey, and I can't side along apparate yet, so this is the only option left open to us." He opened the window, then got on his broomstick as it levitated off the ground. He grabbed a silvery piece of cloth off his bed and threw it at his aunt. "Here, put this over the front of me and then get on behind me. After you're on, pull it over you. It should keep us out of sight of any Muggles watching the sky."
Petunia did as she was told, and listened to her nephew say something in Latin. Then, the cloth that had been loose around them tightened and Harry took off through the window. She clung to him as they climbed higher and higher. She rested her head against his back and closed her eyes to the tiny objects and people below them, and soon, she fell asleep, clinging to Harry.