Petunia Dursley always awoke at seven o'clock on weekdays, in order to have breakfast with Vernon before he left for work. On weekends, she slept in until seven-thirty. On the second Sunday morning of May, she was awakened early by Vernon's movement around six o'clock, but thought nothing of it as he often got up for a wee before coming back to bed for a proper lie-in on weekends. She drifted back to sleep. And then after an indeterminate amount of time she was startled awake again by two young boys bouncing onto the bed. Both Dudley and Harry were there, in their sleep clothes, occupying Vernon's customary spot. Vernon, meanwhile, was standing at the foot of the bed in his dressing down. He was bearing a tray of tea and scones, ornamented with a small vase of flowers.

"Happy Mothers' Day!" the boys cried in unison.

Petunia smiled at them both, sat up, and held out her arms to them. They scrambled over the bed to her, eagerly accepting her embrace. She kissed both their heads. "Why, thank you, my little darlings!" She grinned up at Vernon. "And this is breakfast in bed, I take it?"

"Dudders' idea," Vernon affirmed. "I think he saw it on telly. Only I thought you might like something better than cereal or toast, which is all I can make, so the three of us walked all the way to the bakery yesterday morning, not just to the park." Petunia had banished them all in favor of some deep spring-cleaning yesterday. Clearly, she should do that more often.

"We love you, Auntie Petunia," Harry cried, hugging her tight.

"You're the best Mummy in the world!" Dudley enthused.

"Oh, I love you too!" She cuddled them closer, almost bursting with happiness.

Vernon chuckled and walked around to her side of the bed, settled the tray on her lap and then fluffed her pillows. He poured out a cup of tea and added just the right amount of milk, one sugar. Petunia picked up a scone, surprised to find it perfectly warm. She realized Vernon had gotten up so early to reheat them. She tore off a corner to taste, careful to hold the bulk of the pastry over the tray. It was lovely of course, getting served breakfast in bed, but she didn't want to get crumbs in the sheets and have to change them later.

Since his usual place was currently taken, Vernon perched on the large linen trunk Petunia's parents had gifted them for their wedding. He already had a cup of tea for himself there waiting for him.

"We have presents for you," Dudley said importantly.

"Really?"

Dudley and Harry both nodded vigorously, and Harry slipped off the bed. He ran out of the room but reappeared quickly with two flower-patterned pale paper bags. He passed these up to Dudley before climbing back onto the bed. Dudley peered inside one of the bags, then pushed it towards Petunia. "This one's mine," he announced.

"I'll open them both once I've finished the lovely breakfast you all brought me," Petunia assured him. "I don't want to spill the tea."

In the end, the bed did get rather covered in crumbs, because Petunia relented and let Dudley and Harry have a scone each. She just couldn't make Dudley wait to eat downstairs, not with his special pouting lip and tummy rumbles. Vernon had to fetch milk for them to wash their food down, and he prudently brought more napkins, but the damage was done. There was no spilled milk, so that was a small triumph at least. Vernon took the tray away when Petunia was done with her own scone, setting her teacup on the night stand. Dudley immediately offered her his present again, and she reached into the bag to find a small flower pot with hand-painted decorations. There were two little blue and green hand prints, a smiling sun disc, and a wobbly spiral. Also some likely unintentional smudges that lent the thing extra charm in Petunia's opinion.

"Oh, this is lovely, darling, thank you!" She kissed his hair again.

"We maked them at school," Dudley informed her proudly.

"And here's mine!" Harry said, inching the bag towards her. It was a similar pot, with different decorations. There was one orange hand print which rather cleverly served as the stem of a bush, with multicolored blobs for the leaves.

"I love it, Harry," she said, and kissed him too.

"Mine's better," Dudley grumbled.

"They are both perfect," Petunia said firmly, "and I'll not have you two arguing about that. But we should find things to plant in them, shouldn't we?"

"We can plant petunias," Harry suggested. He had only recently discovered that Petunia, Lily, and Iris were all in fact flower names, when accompanying her to the garden store for seeds and annuals. It was a wistful moment, and she had gotten him a packet of daylilies to plant in the back garden, figuring they would be sturdier than regular lilies for him to help take care of at this age. She'd ended up getting some iris roots for herself.

"We could," Petunia said neutrally. She didn't actually like the plant much though, possibly because it was her namesake, possibly because they were a pain to take care of. "Begonias and pansies are also quite pretty, though, so we'll just have to see what all the options are."

"None of them are as pretty as Mummy," Dudley said firmly. Petunia laughed and hugged him again. She glanced up at Vernon. Her husband was already smiling, and now he nodded and winked. Really, being a wife and mother was the best thing in the world, sometimes. She mouthed at him, "I definitely want more." Vernon was reticent about having another child, but the good days were just so good...

Later that day after filling both pots with beautiful orange begonias, Vernon of course called his own mother for a nice long chat. Dudley sat transfixed by the television. Harry did not join Dudley on the couch and instead followed Petunia while she puttered in the kitchen.

"Auntie Petunia, what happen to my mummy?"

Petunia set down her paring knife and turned to look down at him. He was frowning up at her very seriously. She knelt down in front of him and gently took his hands. "You know what happened, Harry. Your mummy and daddy were in an accident, and they died. That's why you live with us now."

Harry nodded. "I know. But what happen after?"

"You mean... after they died?"

"Yeah. What happen to mummy?"

Petunia closed her eyes for a moment. She didn't know how to answer such a complicated and deep question, not to an almost-four-year-old. "When people die, their bodies don't work any more. But there's another invisible part of the person inside called the soul." Petunia even had evidence the soul was real, since Lily had told her about the ghosts at Hogwarts. "The soul cannot stay with a body that doesn't work, so it goes away to a place where living people cannot see or hear it."

"Forever?"

Petunia nodded. "Yes, forever."

Harry bit his lip, but then he brightened. "I make her a card!"

Petunia smiled faintly. "You want to make a Mothers' Day card for Lily?"

"Yeah! An' you can post it!"

"Oh, sweetie, you can make her a card, but I don't have a way to send it. The postman can't deliver letters to heaven. They don't have a phone either. It isn't in the same world as us."

"Oh."

He looked so crestfallen. She hugged him for a moment then sat up again and took his chin in her hand. "I think we should write your mummy a letter together, even if we can't send it. I'll help you write down all the things you would like to tell her." Harry smiled. "Why don't you get started on the outside of the card, and I'll be over just as soon as I've finished making the fruit salad, yes?" Harry nodded and trotted over towards his art supplies.

The card Harry ended up making was wonderful, Petunia thought. He drew their house with help, then smiling stick figures of the family. He colored a line of green grass at the bottom and a line of blue sky at the top. Then he opened the card and dictated a letter for Petunia to write (edited slightly for grammar and legibility):

Dear Mummy,

I wish I could see you. I miss you every day. But I am happy. I love Auntie Petunia and Dudley and Uncle Vernon and Uncle Sev and Mrs. Figg. I like Aunt Marge mostly. She has a dog. Mrs. Figg has a lot of cats. I like cats. I like coloring and football and watching telly with Dudley. Sometimes Dudley and me fight, but not always. If you were here, we wouldn't fight as much. But if I lived with you and not here, then I would miss Dudley and Auntie Petunia. We made pretty pots for Auntie Petunia for Mothers' Day and put begonias in them. I wish I could give one to you too. Auntie Petunia helped me make this card. She loves you just as much as I do.

Love,

Harry

Petunia leaned over and kissed his hair. "And I love you just as much as Lily did, Harry," she said softly, hoping it was true. She folded up the card and handed it to him. "Why don't we find a place in your room for you to keep that, since we can't send it anywhere?"

Harry nodded. "Okay." He slipped off his chair and headed for the stairs, but then he paused and looked back at her quizzically. "How come souls need bodies?"

Ah, metaphysics with toddlers. "They need bodies to interact with the world, even with other people."

"Why?"

"Because souls are invisible and insubstantial... which means you can't see or feel them, or even hear them since the voice box is in the body."

"Oh. How come bodies stop working?"

"Remember when Dudley's toy car broke? It's like that."

"Can't doctors make it better?"

"Usually yes, but bodies can get too sick or old or injured for doctors to make them well enough to keep going, and that's when death happens."

"How come people get sick?"

Oh, lord, this was going to be one of those conversations. "That depends. It can be because of germs, or because they aren't eating healthy, or..."

"What's a germ?"

"It's like a tiny bug that lives in dirty things."

"Why?"

"Why does it live in dirty things?" Harry nodded. "Because... well, we clean things to get the germs off of them."

"Why?"

"Because if you touch or eat too many germs they can make you sick." Great, circular explanation, there, girl. She didn't want to get into detailed germ theory though. For one, it was confusing. For another, she imagined Harry might be scared if she told him tiny bugs could grow inside of him.

"How?"

Petunia sighed. "Harry, they just do. You'll learn about it in school someday. Just remember that washing your hands and things is important."

"Okay... Auntie Petunia, what else is washing good for?"

"What?"

"The kitchen's not dirty, but you wash it a lot. Why? Are there in-busy germ souls? Do they fly out the bin? Maybe they can't find heaven?"

Good lord.

Author's Note: Harry's getting old enough to have the endless question conversations. Thank you for the reviews as always, and I'll aim for another update on Friday.