[AN] This is totally against the rules. I had planned to do this all along, since these stories seldom use a point of view other than Harry's, and I think exploring some of the other characters might give the universe some awesome depth. I will do it until they complain, then I will stop. [/AN]

Chapter 1.5

Vernon Dursley was an immensely practical man, and proud of it. From his professional life -every one needed drills...they just never considered it- to his personal life; specifically his approach to that greatest of thorns in his brow: The Bloody Potter Boy. The potter boy represented everything he hated; that whimsical "wish and make it so" life and the outlandish freaky friends with their outlandishly freaky ways, and still he tolerated The Boy. Why? Vernon Dursley knew at some point the boy may be worthwhile. Not ever on his own merits, of course; more in terms of a currency that you had to feed occasionally.

Still, Vernon had his limits. The small parcel in the top drawer -the half-height one with his wife's unmentionables- was only there because of his deep adoration of Petunia. In his mind, the stick and bauble were a waste of space, and they should just be rid of them and use the space for something more productive, like that scandalously inappropriate lacy thing he'd gotten Peteunia for their last anniversary.

Still, the parcel served its purpose. Occasionally, when The Boy was keeping a low profile and Vernon needed to get properly angry (Vernon felt he was only at his best when somewhat riled..."keeping a hone" was how he like to think of it) he had only to open the drawer and examine that stupid stick. After a mere moment of imagining the nonsense that so-called-magic entailed, he was ready to stab his own son. The real one, not The Boy.

In Vernon's opinion, that was not an entirely bad thing either. Petunia spoiled him, this was evident even to his father, and keeping a hone one his love for the dear lad would help him turn out mercifully normal...which meant "nothing like The Boy."

Today, when Vernon had felt the need for a hone, he had opened the drawer to find...an empty space. He reluctantly dug through all the silky and cotton-y things, only to admit to himself that finally it wasn't there. He'd never admitted to Petunia that he even knew about it, so he couldn't ask where it was. He rifled through the other drawers, just to make sure. Nothing. For a week or more he let it go...it had been almost a month since he had seen it last...a lot could have happened in a month. Worst case scenario involved The Boy.

Finally, after almost a month after it vanished, he could stand it no more.

"Petunia, darling?"

"Mmmm?" Petunia answered but did not stir from her place on the bed.

"The...package in your drawer...I was dealing with laundry the other day, and I couldn't help but notice..."

There was a long pause. She rolled to one bony elbow. "Package?"

Vernon considered what he was about to say very carefully. "You know...the small bag? Whatever it was, if The Boy stole it..."

"No," she interrupted. "It was just a hunk of wood and some costume jewelry that belonged to my sister. I threw them out. They've wasted space in our house long enough."

Vernon had actually quite fancied the bauble. He nodded slowly. "The Boy wouldn't have wanted them?"

"Who cares?" She flopped back down.

And that was why Vernon Dursley loved his wife.