Like Lightning, the World is Harmless

The kitchen was illuminated in bright, white light, and soon, the rumble of thunder could be heard. Petunia closed her eyes against the sound of the pouring rain and howling wind. The only good thing that had come from the weather was that no Trick-or-Treaters had come by their house earlier. Although she usually turned any visitors away, she was glad that there had been no sticky children pawing at her skirt begging for sweets. Halloween was an American tradition; not something any respectable British citizen would allow their offspring to participate in.

As she opened her eyes, another clap of thunder sounded above, and the kitchen was once again lit by the lightning. It sent a shiver down her spine and she cupped her hands around her mug of hot tea. The light had woken her up not half an hour before, interrupting her sweet dreams, and forcing her to face the remainder of the night with distant memories she'd rather forget.

Twenty years earlier...

"Tuney, are you awake?"

Petunia kept her eyelids closed. She had heard that when people pretended to be asleep, they were supposed to keep their breathing even. She wasn't quite sure how to do that without her face turning blue, however, and instead turned on her side.

"I know you are," Lily whispered.

She sighed, but as the thunder erupted outside, she heard Lily whimper. Turning back around, she switched on her beside-table lamp and propped herself up on her arms. She could see Lily holding up her bed covers over her head.

"There's nothing to be scared about. It's just a little storm," Petunia said.

Lily didn't respond, but from the way the blanket-covered lump on her bed was shaking, she knew her words had not had the desired effect. With another sigh, Petunia threw off her own covers and got out of bed. Tiptoeing across the small space between their beds, she then sat down on the edge of Lily's.

Placing a hand where she thought Lily's shoulder was, she gently rubbed it. "Lils, you know storms cannot hurt you, not when you're safely tucked up in bed." She waited for her sister to respond, but only a small, muffled sniffle could be heard. "C'mon, I'm here, and I actually think that storms are quite pretty when you think about it. The lightning is almost magical, don't you think?"

Her sister finally pulled down the covers. Her nose and eyes were red, strands of auburn hair sticking to her cheeks.

"Oh, Tuney, you don't know just how much!" she said, drawing a rattly breath.

"What do you mean?"

"I was—Sarah said—" Lily sniffled again, louder than before. Petunia pulled back a little, disgusted by the way her sister didn't just grab a tissue and blow her nose instead but decided to let her continue. "—She told me that storms on Halloween are bad Owens."

"Bad Owens? Do you mean 'omens'? Wait, this isn't the girl who's always telling tales, is it?"

Lily shook her head. "Sarah knows a lot of things. Her sister is bigger than you, you know."

Petunia scoffed and rolled her eyes. Little Sarah Finley was always spreading tall tales at school—much like her sister, Amelia, did—and Lily was always believing them. She wasn't surprised in the least that Lily was suddenly scared of storms again when she had not long gotten over her fear of them.

"Ok, what did Sarah say this time?" she asked.

"She said that the lightning is actually witches casting spells on each other every Halloween night. They came out on their broomsticks and do magic and if any kids are out they tell their goblins to go after them and eat them."

If it wasn't for the way Lily was still shivering, Petunia would have burst out laughing. Witches? Goblins? She had heard it all.

Or perhaps she hadn't.

"That's not all though," Lily said, her green eyes wide. She peered at the window, her hands turning white as she gripped her blankets tightly. Another rumble sounded, and she squeezed her eyes shut. "That's the giants' footsteps," she whispered.

This time, Petunia couldn't help but giggle. Lily opened her eyes and glared at her, but she couldn't stop. Getting off her sister's bed, she walked over to the window.

"What's so funny? It's true!" Lily said, pouting.

Petunia shook her head and pulled open the curtains. Above the houses across the street, long jagged lines of white light cut through the sky.

Lily gasped. "Don't open them! They'll see us!"

"Don't be such a ninny. Look; this storm is like any other. There's no such thing as witches casting spells or giants stomping around."

Her sister had pulled the sheets up again, but slowly, she lowered them and peeked over the top. Petunia could see the lightning's reflection within Lily's eyes as the girl watched the spectacle. Her rosy lips stopped trembling.

"Oh," she finally said. "It is."

Petunia turned her head back to the sky and watched as the storm continued. She had always found the sound of the thunder comforting and the way the lightning cast patterns against the clouds quite pretty. Hopefully, Lily would start to think the same, no matter what day or time there happened to be a storm.

It was only when she heard her parents stirring in the next room that she closed the curtains. Passing Lily's bed, she gave her sister a quick pat on the shoulder and then hopped into her own bed.

"See? There's nothing to worry about," she said. "Goodnight, Lils."

Lily yawned. "Night, Tuney, and thank you," she whispered.

The soft sound of snoring soon filled the room, and Petunia closed her eyes. The storm was moving away now, the crashing and rumbling more distant, and she allowed its rhythm to carry her off to sleep.

The kitchen windows rattled as the thunder drew closer to the house. Scraping back her chair, Petunia walked over to the sink. She tipped out her cup's contents, rinsed it and sat it on the sink to dry. Then, reaching up to the floral curtains, she pulled them across the windows, blocking any view of the storm.

The storm seemed to protest, and the biggest rumble of thunder yet reverberated around her. It sounded like the footsteps of more than a thousand giants marching towards Privet Drive, ready to destroy anything in their path.

Petunia shook her head, trying to rid it of such thoughts. Thankfully, she wasn't the only one the storm was keeping awake, and as her son's cry of "Mummy!" came from upstairs, she hurried out of the room to comfort her boy. Only this time, she would not be telling anyone that storms were beautiful or harmless.

A/N: This fic was written for the lovely Cel (Celinarose) :D I hope you like yet another Petunia fic! &hearts

Just a side note, I know that Halloween is celebrated in Britain and there's absolutely nothing wrong with it. It's just that Petunia seems to be the no-nonsense type of person who would hate the event, especially after her sister was killed on that date.