Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, England
November 8, 1980
There were not enough tears. She had no way to properly grieve for her sister, no chance to truly mourn for the girl whom had once been so very dear to her. They had been so close when they were young children, sharing sorrows, sharing triumphs, sharing dreams. There were no more chances of sharing dreams again now.
No.
No, that was not true. There was a dream left, one dream that Lily had left with her, had left in her keeping. Her sister had dreamt of raising her son in a loving home. Petunia could do that for Lily. She could see that Lily's final dream was made true and that the boy was raised in love. She did love him. Petunia loved him with a fierce desperation that some might find disturbing considering she had only first laid her eyes upon him eight days ago. She loved him as though she had given birth to him herself. Perhaps it was because she had given birth to her own son, Dudley, just a month before little Harry was born. Perhaps it was because he was Lily's son and now Lily was gone, lost to her forever. Or perhaps it was that the boy was the last of her family. Petunia suspected that all of these reasons combined made her love him more than she loved her own life.
She missed Lily. She missed the closeness they had once shared as children before Lily had discovered that she was a witch. That discovery had rapidly damaged their relationship and torn them apart. Petunia knew that she had been jealous and she had lashed out in her jealousy. She had made the first strikes in their little war. Later, when Petunia was engaged to marry Vernon Dursley, she had reached out to her sister wanting her support. Lily had brought her beau, James Potter, to dinner. The dinner had been a nightmare. James Potter was no muggle-born Wizard who could have blended in with the crowd of muggles. Instead he was an upper crust Pure-blood Wizard who had rarely, if ever, dealt with muggles before. Vernon had taken an instant dislike to him and James had treated Vernon as though he were an amusing pet. Dinner had ended with Vernon storming away and Petunia had said a few harsh words to Lily before following him. Sometimes Petunia felt that following Vernon had been a mistake.
She missed her parents whom had died in a car crash just six months before she gave birth to Dudley. The last time she had talked to her mother, the woman was so excited about becoming a grandmother. It still hurt Petunia that Dudley would never know his grandparents. She ached with a loneliness inside that she doubted could ever be filled. She might forever feel just that loneliness, that sense that with the death of her parents and the death of Lily the last people to be capable of understanding her had disappeared from the world. It was perhaps selfish to think this way, but then grief in and of itself was for the living and not for the dead. The living, were left behind, after all, while the dead went on to the next great adventure.
A chapter of her life was closed for good and now it was time that she pulled herself together in order to truly appreciate the new chapter of her life.
She glanced up from her cup of tea when Vernon none too gently settled a small stack of pamphlets on the table before her. He was humming a happy tune. She stared at him a bit bemused as he walked to the refrigerator to get himself a cold beverage. Vernon had not been this happy in days, not since Harry had been found on their doorstep. He had raved at her for days about how her freakish nephew would not be allowed to remain in his house. She had stood firm that Harry was her nephew and so he would live with her. Their last fight over Harry was two days ago and Vernon had been giving her the cold shouldered silent treatment ever since. Yet now he seemed so happy. Could it be that he had finally decided that having Harry live with them would not be so terrible after all?
She smiled and slowly picked up the top pamphlet. She had expected to see a vacation pamphlet. Vernon often brought home vacation pamphlet's so they could figure out many months in advance where they would vacation during the summer. She was shocked to see that it was not a pamphlet to some pretty resort. Instead it was a pamphlet about an orphanage.
Frowning she swiftly went through the other pamphlets and to her outrage she found that each one was for an orphanage. "No!" she said sternly, putting force into her voice. It was a force that she was not used to exerting with Vernon. She was usually meek as a mouse with her much larger and stronger husband.
"No what?" Vernon asked as he stood in their kitchen doorway staring at her.
"You could bring home a million of these pamphlet's but I will still refuse," Petunia said sternly. "I will not get rid of Harry!" she said firmly, her voice raising slightly.
Vernon's mouth twisted into a sneer and he glared at her. She wondered in that moment why she had ever married him? Had she been that desperate for someone to notice her, think her beautiful, think her special that she had fallen for the first man whom had said all the right words? Apparently yes, she decided as she listened to the vitriol coming from Vernon's mouth.
"Your freaky nephew will not stay here and contaminate my son!" he declared. "It's a good thing you kept away from your freaky sister or you would have caught whatever it was that she had that made her a freak. I won't have it Petunia! The boy goes. I did you the courtesy of bringing home options for you to choose from but that is it. The boy goes!"
Petunia felt herself trembling all over as she asked suddenly in a soft voice, "Vernon, what if Dudley were a Wizard?"
His anger was apparent as he began to turn purple with rage. "No son of mine is a freak!" he exclaimed.
"It runs in families Vernon, so what if Dudley were a Wizard like Harry?" she persisted.
Vernon sneered at her. "It's as I said Petunia, no son of mine is a freak," he said. "If he shows any sign of that contamination, I'll take the right measures to beat it out of him."
With that horrifying final statement Vernon left the room. A few moments later she heard the Telly turn on and the news broadcaster's voice could be heard babbling about problems in the Middle-East. Petunia wiped at her eyes as tears began to flow down her cheeks. It was worse than she had thought. Far worse. She had hoped that Vernon would come around but deep down she knew that he would never do so. Harry would never really be safe in a house that had Vernon Dursley in it. Dudley would not either. There was no way that she could think of Vernon as a good father for Dudley after what he had just said. Oh, in her distaste for Lily's magic, her jealousy, she had said terrible things. She had called her sister a freak, but she had never hit Lily. She had never thought that beating Lily would somehow make the magic stop. She had known that Lily was born with it. She was special in that regard. She was extraordinary.
She could not stay with Vernon. She'd have to divorce him. Then she felt panic settle in. Where would she go? What would she do? She had gone to college to become a secretary. She knew she could try to find work in an office, but who would take care of Dudley and Harry during the daytime while she was at work?
She wiped furiously at her eyes and left the pamphlet's on the table. She swiftly left the kitchen and went up the stairs to the nursery where Dudley and Harry shared a cot. She looked down on both infants and sighed. She didn't know what to do. Perhaps tomorrow she would see things clearer. If not, then perhaps she could get into contact with Albus Dumbledore, the man whom had left Harry on her doorstep in the first place. She would still like to give him a piece of her mind about leaving an infant out in the cold. What if someone had just come along and stolen Harry away?
She shook her head and slowly laid herself down on the small cot that she had been sleeping on in the nursery. It was the better to be near Dudley and Harry and to keep herself safe from Vernon while they were fighting. Vernon would not dare go into the nursery. He did not know what to do with an infant. Even now, six months after Dudley was born, she could not get him to hold Dudley. For tonight they would be safe. She was sure of it.