Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the Harry Potter universe. It is the property of Joanne Rowling. The only things that belong to me, are the original characters and stories that I have written.

Friday the sixth of November was a completely normal morning for Petunia Dursley. She had always been an early riser – that had not changed after marrying her husband Vernon, or after having her baby boy, Dudley.

Vernon, on the other hand, preferred to sleep in as long as possible, and had for his entire life, according to his sister Marge. Her darling Dudley seemed to be taking after his father in that way, as in so many others. It would not surprise her if Dudley would grow up to be a look-a-like of his father.

This morning had been the same as so many that came before it, Petunia had awoken before the sun. Then she rose out of their bed, carefully, as to not wake Vernon, the poor man was exhausted. She needed to talk about him cutting down his working hours, he needed to learn how to delegate. After that, she had tip-toed out of their room, and down the hall to peek in on Dudley. He, as every morning since he had started sleeping through the night, was fast asleep.

In to the bathroom, a quick brush of her teeth, then she was quietly walking down the stairs. Entering the kitchen, she filled the kettle and put it on the stove. Waiting for the water to boil, she thought back to the electric kettle she had seen in her catalogue a few days ago. With how much tea she and Vernon drank, it really would be so much more convenient.

I could take Dudley for a stroll to the mall and purchase it later today.

Just as the kettle started it's whistling, Petunia hurriedly removed it from the stove. Grabbing her tea and her favourite mug from the cupboard, she started to prepare herself a perfect cup of morning tea. The first hiccup of her day came – when rooting through the refrigerator in search of milk – there was none to be found.

Well, it's a bit early, but the milkman might have already delivered.

Sighing to herself, Petunia made her way out of the kitchen and in to the hallway, towards the front door. Turning the lock and opening the door, she saw something completely unexpected. Instead of the milk and cream she expected to the side of her door, she saw a bundle of blankets. A bundle of blankets that was softly snoring. Petunia's eyebrows climbed her forehead as she tried to come to terms with the sight in front of her.

Bending down to get a closer look, she realized that there was a tuft of hair sticking out of one end of the blankets. Then her eyes flew open – when realization struck her – there wasn't just a tuft of hair, but a whole baby bundled up in the blankets.

Someone had left a baby on their doorstep, who would do that? Why would they do that? Where were the parents? Her head spinning and her thoughts running a million miles a minute, she realized none of those things mattered at all. The poor child might have been outside the entire night, it might be ill, or worse – dead.

No. Calm down, she had already heard the baby snoring. It was definitely alive, but still, it might have gotten pneumonia or something similar from being outside – with only a bundle of blankets, for god knows how long.

Hurriedly picking up the bundle of blankets containing the baby, she missed the letter that had been tucked into the folds. Turning around with her hands full, she quickly pushed the door shut with her foot. With the living room table in her sight, she scrambled full speed towards it. Putting the bundle down and unwrapping the child, Petunia needed to know if an ambulance was necessary or not.

Doing the few things she remembered from the parenting classes she and Vernon had taken. Two fingers on the arm, between shoulder and elbow, for pulse – good. Head tilted back, looking and listening, breathing – good. No parts of the body looking blue, good. In fact, now that she thought about it, the baby felt pleasantly warm all over. The boy – because now she knew it was a boy – seemed to be perfectly healthy.

Slowly letting go of a breath she didn't know that she was holding in. When trying to bundle up the baby in the blankets again, she realized that her hands were shaking. Thankfully, the baby was still soundly asleep.

What was she going to do now, call the police? Social services? She honestly had no idea what to do in a situation like this.

I need to wake up Vernon.

Gently stroking the boy's head one more time before leaving. She hurried as quietly as she could up the stairs. There was no reason to wake up Dudley after all. A few strides later, she entered their bedroom. Closing the door behind her, she took a seat next to where Vernon was sleeping.

"Vernon." She whispered.

He didn't even twitch, so she poked him in the ribs. That got a reaction. His eyes started to open.

"Vernon!" This time she almost hissed it.

"Whazza…?" Petunia snorted at that response, Vernon didn't sound even a little coherent.

At this point, his eyes had at least opened, and he seemed to be coming awake.

"What's going on?" Vernon sounded extremely confused.

Petunia poked Vernon again, then she started talking, with that tone. "Get up Vernon, I need you downstairs, now!"

That got Vernon going, she covered her grin with her hand. All males of the human species knew to fear that tone. It was only a few seconds later that Vernon was in his robe and hurrying after Petunia down the stairs.

As she came to a stop at the living room table, Vernon looked around the room, and started to ask "What was so bleeding important-". She could practically hear when his eyes finally looked to the table.

"That's not Dudley." said Vernon. "Why is there another baby in our house? For that matter, whose child is it?"

"No, it's not Dudley, and I don't know. I found him on our doorstep!" Petunia answered.

Vernon's eyebrows rose at that. "The doorstep? Like, in front of our door – doorstep?" He asked her.

"Yes." Petunia hissed. "I went out to check if the mailman had delivered yet, and there he was. Outside in November, with just those blankets as protection against the weather."

"Christ, he might have been outside all night. We have to call an ambulance."

"I don't think he was out there for long." Petunia interjected. "His pulse and breathing are fine. He doesn't seem to have taken ill by the cold either. Who do we call in a situation like this, the police? What if he's been stolen from his parents by some crazy person?"

Vernon leaned down over the boy. "Yes, this entire situation is completely bonkers. It definitely takes a special kind of idiot to leave a toddler on someone's doorstep. In November, on top of that. I'll go ring nine-nine-nine, they should be able to guide us to where we are needed."

He kissed Petunia on her cheek and patted her on the arm. Vernon was halfway out into the hallway when she heard him bend down, and he muttered, 'What's this?'. Petunia turned to look at him, he had picked up what looked like an envelope from the hallway floor.

Vernon turned the envelope over in his hands, his eyes widening a fraction. "Pet, this letter, it's addressed to you." He handed it over to her, and she turned it over. There on the front, in a loopy handwriting, it read 'Petunia Dursley'. She had seen that handwriting before, she was certain of it. But where, she could not remember.

She realized that she had been staring when Vernon asked. "Aren't you going to open it?"

Quickly, she slid her finger under the edge and opened the envelope. Her eyebrows shot up, there was parchment inside, that meant that this was from their world. Unfolding the parchment, she started reading. While reading, her eyes widened and her breath hitched. Tears started running down her cheeks. She sank to her knees, the letter falling out of her shaking hands.

Vernon reached out for her. "Petunia, what's wrong?"

"It's L-Lily, she's been murdered." She stuttered out.

Vernon sat down next to her and put his arms around her. She felt Vernon push her into his embrace, and she lost what little composure she had left.

It took quite a while before Petunia was calm enough to continue reading the letter. Vernon was peering over her shoulder, reading along with her. The letter told them the story of how some madman terrorist named Voldemort – 'What kind of name is Voldemort?' muttered Vernon – had been hunting for her sister's family. That he on Halloween had found their hiding place, and killed both Lily and James Potter. Their son Harry had survived because of some magic Lily had conjured up.

"They just left him on our doorstep, how can they be so bloody stupid. What if we couldn't afford to take him, or if we didn't have the space. What were they thinking?" Vernon was nearly frothing at the mouth, his face red as a tomato.

Petunia laid a calming hand on his arm. "But we can afford it, and we do have the space. Of course, we'll take him in. But, leaving him on the doorstep was incredibly dangerous, they should have knocked on the door and talked to us." Petunia breathed out heavily. "I also have questions for them. There's no information about when the funeral is, or where. What about Harry's clothes or toys. But it's written here in the letter that we won't be seeing them at all until Harry is eleven and goes off to that school of theirs." Tears started glinting in her eyes again. "I won't be able to go to her funeral. Vernon, I don't get to say goodbye to my baby sister. Little Harry won't be able to say goodbye to his m-mother." She started sobbing again. "Vernon, what is wrong with them. How can they be so cruel?"

Vernon didn't respond to her questions, he sat there quiet, calm, and comforting. Simply holding her in his arms as she once again sobbed her heart out.

Petunia's grieving was interrupted when they heard sounds of movement, up on the table. She realized that Harry was still laying there. Standing up with the help of Vernon, she moved over to the boy – her nephew.

Peering out of the bundle of blankets were the greenest eyes she had ever seen. Eyes she had only seen on one other person in her entire life, eyes she had been intimately familiar with growing up.

"He has Lily's eyes." She breathed out softly to Vernon.

Harry's eyes met hers, she felt something stir in her chest. Her nephew raised his arms toward her and spoke a single word. A word that would cement that feeling in her heart for the rest of her life.

"Mama."

When she thought back to that moment later in her life, she would quite easily recognize the stirring in her chest – as love.

A few days had passed since they found the unexpected package on their doorstep. Harry had been extremely clingy towards Petunia, perhaps he on some subconscious level understood that he would never see his parents again. Clinginess aside, Harry had been a sweet child during his short stay at Privet Drive.

Luckily for them, they had an overabundance of children's clothes, toys, and other necessities needed to care for a child. What they didn't have, they had quickly solved with a trip to their local Sainsbury's.

They had placed Harry together with Dudley and so far there had seemed to be no issues. Petunia would go so far as to say that Harry had been no issue at all. In fact, compared to Dudley, Harry was a tiny benevolent Angel, and though he would never say anything out loud – Vernon thought so too. That is not to say that Dudley was a bad child, just a normal one, which meant screaming and tantrums. He was only one, after all.

The first issues had cropped up a few days later. When she and Vernon had been speaking about the children's future. They were discussing their schooling, when Vernon had exclaimed that he did not know if they would be able to enroll Harry in a school. Because they had no birth certificate for him, and they were not his legal guardians either, as far as the normal world was concerned.

She hadn't even thought about that, she'd been so preoccupied with caring for Harry and mourning her sister. The implications were staggering, this was bad, very bad. Realizing the situation they were in, Petunia cursed Albus Dumbledore's name out loud. He had left them in a truly horrible situation, and she dearly wished that she could wring his geriatric neck.

"I guess we will have to call social services and try our best to explain the situation without mentioning their world. My sister might have been a witch, but she was not as obtuse as the rest of their society seem to be. I refuse to believe that she didn't make sure her son existed in both worlds."

Vernon nodded along. "Yes, that is probably the best we could do." Then with a little grin he added. "Though, I really hope we don't get accused of kidnapping."

Petunia tried to hide her grin and failed miserably before slapping her husband on the arm. "This is no laughing matter, we could end up in serious trouble because of this. Albus Dumbledore truly is an idiot of the highest order."

"On that, we agree. Well, there's not much more to it, I'll go ring up social services. Better get it over with." Vernon said as he lumbered off towards the telephone in the hallway.

As Petunia watched her husband wander off out into the hallway, her mind wandered again to the two small children playing on the living room floor. All around them, spilled everywhere, were their toys. Vernon hadn't been able to hold himself back from buying what felt like half the store for Dudley's first birthday. After that, his sister Marge had also splurged, and bought what felt like the other half of the store. Then, when Harry came, they'd gone shopping and Vernon hadn't been able to hold himself back that time either. They'd probably need to speak about it. She knew Vernon wanted Dudley to have everything he didn't, but you could spoil children too much.

The two children were almost polar opposites, sitting among their toys. Where Dudley was rambunctious and full of energy, Harry was quiet and contemplative. Dudley was playing with a small red and white toy car and making funny noises with his mouth. Harry on the other hand sat quietly building with his wooden blocks. Over the last few days, Petunia had realized it was rare that Harry made any sounds at all. Dudley, like a normal child, would scream and cry when something was wrong. Harry, instead, would try to use his words. It was adorable, and her ears were thankful for it. One screaming child was more than enough, thank you very much.

Harry had discovered that she was looking at them, and was now making his way over towards the couch where she was sitting. When he reached close enough, he lifted his arms towards her, prompting her to lift him up. Once up on the sofa, Harry curled himself up into a ball with his head next to her, and promptly fell asleep.

Petunia snorted, Harry truly loved to sleep. She feared that if she didn't wake him up, he would spend all day and all night asleep. She gently booped him on the nose. "It's not bedtime yet Harry, wakey wakey."

Harry mumbled. "Don' wanna."

"If you don't open your eyes right now, I'll have to take drastic measures." She grinned evilly.

Harry opened one eye to glare at her. Then he closed it again, and with a great sigh, rolled over on his other side. Just as she was about to mercilessly tickle him, Vernon re-entered the room. He was calm and collected, so their situation couldn't be terrible.

"How did it go?" She queried.

He sat down beside her and took a moment before he answered. "At least their kind aren't complete bumbling buffoons. The lady from social services I spoke to, kindly informed me that all the appropriate paperwork had already been submitted. She seemed mightily confused as to why I was calling."

"That's the least they could do, I guess. They really should have informed us about everything. I hate feeling so lost and confused." She said as she leaned against him.

Neither Petunia nor Vernon noticed that Harry's eyes had opened slightly when they spoke.

Wizards and witches truly lack common sense.

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