"Harry! Harry! Where are you boy!"
His Aunt's hissing shout wakes Harry up with a jerk and he kicks the cupboard door as his legs straighten out in surprise. Pulling his legs back he pulls the blanket tightly around him, and stares at the faint light around the door. Shivering in fear at the possibility that the world outside the door isn't the world he went to sleep in.
The soft footsteps of his Aunt come down the stairs above him.
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Petunia winces as she quietly heads down the stairs following the thump she heard. She winces as her ribs twinge from Vernon's 'gentle reminder' to ensure there's enough beer available when he decides to drink. Her fingers find their way to her eye and cheek, where she's skilfully covered a bruise with makeup.
Walking round the bottom of the stairs to the cupboard door, she wrenches it open, and ducks down. Her pain fuelled angry words die on her lips as she sees the raw fear on her nephew's face. Not the usual fear he gets when Vernon's in a mood, absolute terror.
When he doesn't respond to her presence, she crouches down properly and puts her pain to one side, "Harry. Harry," she waves her hand in front of his face, "Harry!". With the last call, Harry blinks at her.
Now that he's responding, she softens her voice, "Harry, what's the matter?"
"I don't want to disappear." As if speaking aloud makes things more real, Harry bursts into tears, in great wracking sobs.
Somewhat at a loss of what to do, Petunia reaches out halfway to do, something, comfort or slap, she's not sure which. But with the same soft tone, she asks, "Why do you think you're going to disappear?"
Harry says something completely unintelligible that might include the word sleep. Shaking her head, her irritation with the boy starting to rise again, she fights to keep her tone soft, "What do you mean?"
After trying to form words around his crying, Harry blindly leans over, and pulls the letter from its hiding place and shakily holds it out to his Aunt.
With a huff, Petunia opens the letter and glances at it dismissively. A flash of light distracts her momentarily and she glances to the front window muttering, "Bloody early morning drivers."
As she glances back to the letter, it's like her emotions have been doused in ice water as she recognises Lily's neat handwriting. As she starts to read, her legs give out, and she collapses to the floor as her hands start to shake.
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Harry watches cautiously over his knees while he cries helplessly. Learned survival instincts crying out that something's about to go wrong while his Aunt reads the letter.
Instead, as he watches, Aunt Petunia starts to cry, and says, "Oh Lily… Lily, why didn't you tell me, you stupid cow. I could have helped, we could have meditated together. But you had to ruin it. We could have spent time with grandpapa together."
Try as he might, Harry is still crying when Petunia finishes reading, and he flinches when she reaches her hand out to him, "Boy, come here. Come on."
Knowing that not going will lead to a worse beating, Harry clambers out of the cupboard to where his Aunt is sitting, with her own tears. When she pats the floor beside her, he obediently sits down, and braces himself.
Instead of being hit or berated, Petunia instead pulls him closer and hugs him gently, for the first time he can ever remember. "You stupid boy, I don't want you to disappear either. I care about you, and I've always tried to protect you."
The two of them sit there for nearly half an hour before Vernon's heavy footsteps inform them that he's awake.
Gently, Petunia shakes Harry, "Come on boy, I'll help you with breakfast today, and once they're gone we'll talk."
Harry turns to look up at his Aunt as if she's a stranger. Gently, he reaches up to touch her eye where her tears have washed away the makeup. "Does it hurt?"
Petunia smiles gently, "A bit, but it wasn't you or Dudley, so that makes it ok. Come on, we need to get breakfast made before he comes downstairs."
Together, they make quick work of the breakfast, and even have time to clean up the evidence of their tears. With Petunia using the makeup she keeps in her handbag to re-conceal the bruise on her eye. Throughout the entire process, Harry keeps sneaking glances at his Aunt, expecting her to return to normal at any moment.
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When Vernon starts to walk down the stairs, Petunia takes her seat at the table, and Harry starts to bring the food out to the table. Instead of taking his customary place at the head of the table, Vernon instead goes to stand beside the letterbox.
As he's bringing the last dish out, Harry spots his mothers letter, lying on the floor by the back of the sofa. Panicking slightly, he places the dish on the table, before hurrying over and grabbing the letter. As he runs to the kitchen, Harry's movement catches Vernon's attention, and he starts to follow Harry, "What's that boy? If you're hiding something from me you'll…"
The clatter of letters being pushed through the post box interrupts whatever threat Vernon was about to make, and he hurries back to the letterbox. Leaning down with a groan, Vernon stands up triumphantly and marches to the garden, depositing the normal post on the table as he walks past.
While Vernon's distracted, Harry slips Lily's letter into the towel drawer, underneath all the towels, before joining Petunia and Dudley at the table.
As the smell of burning parchment wafts through the open door, Vernon crows, "No freaks live here, the boy is going to Stonewall High, and his freakishness will be beaten out of him."
As the last of the parchment turns to ash, Vernon walks back inside with a look of satisfaction. As he squeezes his bulk around the table, he jogs Dudley, causing him to spill juice down his t-shirt. Petunia immediately starts to fawn over Dudley, while dabbing at the stain with a napkin. "Oh Dudders, are you ok?... It's ok, you can have more juice…" Looking at Harry she calls, "Boy! Get more orange juice for Dudley!" Before turning back to Dudley, "You poor thing, let's get that t-shirt off you, and into the wash, and get you into a clean one."
With a glance at Vernon, who has started to help himself to breakfast, Harry slips out of his chair, and quickly takes the mostly empty glass to the fridge, and refills it. At the same time he grabs a cloth, which he uses to soak up the worst of the spill on the table. As he sits back in his chair, Vernon's hand lashes out, and cuffs him around the ear, "Next time, be more careful not to job the table."
Hunching over, Harry meekly replies, "Yes, Uncle Vernon."
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As he's sitting at the table trying to understand how his Aunt could have been such a different person this morning, Vernon's hand catches him around the ear again, "Stop wool gathering, and clear the table!"
His head reeling, Harry slips off his chair, and automatically starts to clean the table, wash the dishes, and put them all away. As soon as he's done, he unobtrusively retreats to his new room, and curls up on the bed, with his back to the wall.
There he stays, still trying to understand everything that's changed, even when Vernon's footsteps come up the stairs. A few minutes pass, before Vernon slams open his bedroom door.
"Now boy, you do everything your aunt wants you to, or it's back to the cupboard with you. You hear me?"
Harry doesn't uncurl from the bed, as he knows it will be seen as defiance. Instead he answers, "Yes, Uncle Vernon."
Vernon nods, "Good, and if I hear you've been causing trouble in the neighbourhood again, you'll get the belt."
Meekly, Harry replies, "Yes, Uncle Vernon."
When Vernon leaves without fully closing the door, Harry just lies there, thoughts running through his head. Down stairs, the sound of breakfast television can be faintly heard, and Dudley stomps up the stairs and into his room.
The sounds of some game starting up clearly audible in Harry's room. But still he lies there.
Sometime later, Dudley throws something against the wall, and screams, before stomping downstairs. His shout of "I'm going to meet up with Piers and Dennis Mum!" Clearly audible through the house, and still Harry doesn't move.
A few minutes later, there's a soft knock at his door. When there's no answer, Petunia pushes it open, and walks over to the bed to sit beside Harry.
As she pushes Lily's letter into his hands, Harry opens his eyes to look at his aunt.
Petunia can't bring herself to look at Harry, so instead, she looks down at her hands, "I suppose you want to know what's going on. I think I would in your shoes. When I met him…"
Petunia swallows hard as she thinks back to those early days, "When I met him, he played rugby, boxed, and was charming." Her voice turns bitter, "Oh yes, he was so very charming."
"I met him when I was doing an evening job at the student bar to cover the cost of my secretarial course. He flattered me with pretty words and gifts. He really knew how to make a girl feel special. At the time, he was doing his final year of his degree in Business and management, and Grunnings had offered him a job based on his gap year performance.
"I was in love, and the world was rosy. I couldn't hear any of the criticisms levied against him. And so the year went by in a whirlwind of dancing, parties, and dating. Then, on the day he graduated, he proposed to me still wearing his graduation robes. It was beautiful."
Harry uncurls, and cautiously sits up to listen to his aunt talk about her past.
Petunia slips off her wedding band, and starts to twist it in her hands, "Then we got married, and Lily, your mother, bought us this house as a wedding present. We'd been looking at it during our engagement, as they were new-builds. I'd imagine that Lily saw the brochures and bought it for us. But that's when it changed."
Petunia shakes her head, "Looking back, it didn't happen overnight, and it seemed quite reasonable at the time. Things like, 'Oh, don't you think it's a bit far to meet your friends in London?', or 'Weren't we having so and so around that night?'. It then moved onto things like, 'I need to meet a client next week, would you mind cooking for us?"
"I was pregnant with Dudley when he first hit me. He broke my jaw when I told him I was going to see my sister in… in… I used to go there every month, why can't I remember where she lived?"
Petunia sniffs, as she starts to cry again, "I hated her, did you know that. For the longest time I hated her. I hated her for how much time she spent with grandpapa and grandmere. I hated her for being able to do magic. I hated her for marrying that hansom hunk. But she was still my sister, and she was so beautiful when I went to see her after… after…"
Petunia shakes her head as the memory refuses to come, "Then her husband came to see Vernon, and something happened, and it went back to the way it used to be. It was wonderful, and I dismissed the solicitor… Why did I have a solicitor?..."
Petunia shakes her head again as thinking start to become hard, "Anyway, Dudley was born three weeks before you were, he was such a beautiful baby, and Vernon loved him. He looked so proud holding him in his hands."
Petunias face twists into a rictus of hate, and her voice turns harsh, "Lily and that wastrel of a husband came round shortly after you were born, and she was so happy. Looking down at us plebs, as if marrying that drunkard gave her airs and graces. I sent her right out with a flea in her ear I did."
Surprised by the sudden shift in tone, Harry scoots to the end of the bed furthest from his aunt, just in case she decides to take it out on him.
The sudden jostling of the bed causes Petunia to pause, and her face relax again, as tears to start falling, "A year passed, and Lily… Lilly contact… contact… why can't I remember?"
Harry reaches out to touch his aunt when she starts staring into space, only to snatch his hand back when she starts talking again. "Then on the 1st November, I opened the door to bring in the milk, and there you were, sitting on the doorstep. You were in a basket, and wrapped in your blanket. Tucked in the side of the basket was a letter saying that… that…"
Petunia struggles to get the right words out, as she knows what she wants to say, but the wrong words keep coming to mind. Once more, Harry slowly reaches out to touch his aunt again, only this time she doesn't start talking again. Instead, she jumps, as though she'd forgotten he was there, and turns to look at him, "It's in the drawer with my tights, underneath the lining. Be a good boy and go and get it."
When Harry doesn't move, Petunia snaps, "Well, go on."
At the familiar tone of voice, that implies an or else, Harry scoots off the bed, and runs into his Aunt and Uncles room. It doesn't take him long to find the letter and return.
Before he gets back to the bed, Petunia sadly looks up, "Read it then, you deserve to know."
Pulling the chair out, Harry sits at the desk and carefully opens the letter.
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Mr and Mrs Dursley,
It is with great regret that I must inform you that your sister Lily and her husband James died during an attack on their home on the 31st of October. As you are the sole remaining family still alive, I have no choice but to leave their son, Harry, in your care. During the attack, the leader of the terrorists was killed signalling the end of the war.
While the means of his death is unknown, I can tell that your sister laid very powerful protections on Harry. I have extended these protections over your home and, for as long as Harry can call it home, you will be protected from any wizards that seek to harm you.
Obviously, I understand that an extra mouth to feed is not cheap. To that matter, James and Lily left details for Harry's caregivers to receive a stipend every month. If you would send a letter with your bank details to me at Hogwarts, I will arrange to have this money transferred to you.
Condolences
Albus Brian Percival Wilfric Dumbledore
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As he finishes reading, Harry turns around to where Petunia is still sitting, "What's a stipend?"
Rather than answer, Petunia collapses in hysterical laughter, driven by despair. Once she's recovered, she pushes herself back up, and dashes the tears from her eyes, "A stipend is a small amount of money used to cover someone's living expenses. If we'd have been able to get it, life might have been easier. But no! The stupid backwards arse world needs to use owls to deliver post. I sent letter after letter with different variations on the name and location, but they all came back unknown address. I even tried going through mum and dads files for the address. But they'd all been destroyed in the.. attack…"
Petunia's eyes unfocus as she starts to mumble, "Why couldn't I remember that? Why couldn't I remember the attack?..."
After a moment, she shakes her head, and seems to forget all about the letter, and last few minutes as she continues from finding Harry on the doorstep, "It was all good to start with, I was still breast feeding Dudders, so an extra mouth wasn't hard to adjust to. But it was when Dudders started teething that money became tight, and Vernon started to change. Oh, it was little things to start with, shouting at me to shut you up, or telling me to stop feeding you as he needed his breakfast before going to work. Then he started hitting me and shaking you. That's when I put you in the cupboard, you were all I had left of my sister, and I couldn't let him hurt you. So I hid you away."
Petunia inspects the back of her hands again, "It seemed to get better after that, but it got worse if he saw me caring for you. So I learned. Oh, how I learned. What set him off. How to set him off early. How to keep you hidden, and how to keep you quiet."
Quietly Harry asks, almost afraid of the answer, "Why didn't you leave?"
Petunia laughs bitterly, "I tried, oh how I tried. I got to a shelter on my own once. Another time I took Dudley with me."
Petunia glances up, and at Harry's confused look, says, "A shelter is a place where people that need help can go to live for a while."
Her eyes drop back to her hands, "But, whenever I took you with me, I forgot what I was doing, and things didn't seem so bad." She laughs humourlessly, "I even called social services, and with every visit, the social workers were very sympathetic while they were here, and agreed that the living situation was bad. But, as soon as they got back to the office, they all wrote glowing reports about our home. Last time I called them, they told me I was suffering from hysteria, and to see a doctor."
Looking through the small window, out over the forest, Petunia sits for a moment. Then she shakes her head and looks at Harry, "Now you know. I've tried to protect you. I sent you to do the gardening whenever Vernon's angry. Worked you so hard that you sleep soundly, and even belittled you so that Vernon doesn't think I'm playing favourites. I even went to far as to encourage him to spoil Dudley. But now the letters are coming, and it's going to start all over again." Petunia shakes her head, "They won't stop, they'll keep sending letters until we answer them, but we can't answer them."
After a moment, she looks up from her hands with a vulnerable expression and asks, "Can I hug you?"
Harry searches his aunt's face for a long time, trying to understand the emotion she's showing. Long enough that her expression drops, and she turns her head away. Just as she puts her hands down to stand up, Harry decides to take a chance, and says, "Please."
Petunia looks back up at Harry, hope in her eyes, and holds out her arms. When Harry crosses the room and climbs onto the bed beside her, she hugs him gently as they both cry. For time lost, and pain endured.