All in all, it had been a nice normal day. Dinner proceeded as usual, though Vernon, her husband, seemed to be a bit more preoccupied than normal. Petunia just wrote it off as stress from work and thought nothing more of it as she and Vernon settled down in the sitting room to watch the evening news. After watching Vernon grow tenser and tenser as several strange news stories were reported, though, Petunia began to suspect that something other than work was bothering him. Her supsicions were confirmed when Vernon looked over at her and cleared his throat uneasily.

"Er-Petunia, dear- you haven't heard from your sister, lately, have you?"

Petunia made a face. "No," she said brusquely. "Why?"

Despite her outward demeanour of shock and anger, Petunia was a bit concerned that Vernon mentioned her sister. After all, he was the reason why she pretended to be disgusted that her sister was a witch.

Vernon shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Funny stuff on the news; owls… shooting stars… and there where a lot of funny-looking people in town today…'

"So?" she retorted, even though she already what he was thinking. Sure enough, it was the same thought that she had.

"Well, I just thought… maybe… it was something to do with… you know… her lot."

Petunia sipped some tea, but said nothing. She hoped that Vernon would take the hint and drop the subject.. Still, Vernon pressed the on and asked about her sister's son.

"Harry," she replied when he asked her the boy's name. "Nasty common name if you ask me," she added, distastefully..

By the time Petunia climbed to bed that night, she was a bit worried about why her husband had taken a sudden interest in her sister's world. As she rolled over and fell asleep, she decided she would write a letter to her sister, one of those rare ones they sent to each other, and make sure shewas, indeed, ok.

The next day, bright sunlight burst into the kitchen, greeted by Dudley screaming at the top of his lungs and splattering porridge all around from his high-chair.

"Don't you want the porridge, popkin dear?" Petunia asked the screaming child fondly.

"Petunia, give him something else," said Vernon, who was taking breakfast before going to work. "Little tyke," he chuckled.

Petunia immediately provided her son with some apple-pie, which seemed to suit him well. As she placed the rest of the apple-pie in the fridge, she remembered that she still had to take out the milk bottles for the milk-man. She picked up the two empty glass bottles from the fridge and hummed her way to the front door, thinking up places to take Dudley to whilst her husband was at work.

When she opened the door, though, these thoughts were driven out of her mind as she had nearly trodden on something on the door step. Petunia bent down to examine the bundle of blankets placed on the stoop. Inside, clutching a letter there was a baby. A baby she most surely recognised.

Petunia shrieked, taking a step backwards and nearly collided with Vernon as he came trotting to the door. "What is the matter, Petunia?" he asked her concernedly.

She didn't reply, but comprehension catching up with her, she picked up the baby, who had been awoken by her shriek, and inspected the letter.

Vernon looked at the baby, who had its eyes wide open, staring at the strangers above him.

"Petunia…tha-that isn't your nephew is it?" Vernon stammered.

Petunia nodded. Opening the letter and unfolding it, she began to read.

In the letter, Dumbledore, the Headmaster of the school which Lily had went to, informed her that Lily and her husband James had been killed. He explained that they had both went into hiding along with their son, Harry, when a certain dark wizard, named Lord Voldemort, had started looking for them to kill Harry. Dumbledore explained that, despite their best efforts to hide, Voldemort had still found the Potters and killed Lily and James.

A feeling of sadness washed over Petunia and she was forced to stop reading the letter. Tears welled up in her eyes. Even though she and her sister hadn't remained close as they grew up, she was still quite fond of Lily. She was Petunia's sister after all. As Petunia looked at the small child in her arms, she felt a stab of pity for the poor orphaned boy. Reminding herself, though, of what he was, of what he would grow up to be, she shook off the feeling and went back to the letter.

Dumbledore had written that Harry wasn't killed by Voldemort because Lily had died to save Harry. By doing so, she unknowingly gave him a level of protection Voldemort couldn't touch. The man also explained that he had cast a charm to reinforce the protection Harry gained from the shedding of his mother's blood as long as Harry lived with someone of that blood. And so, Harry was to live with them until he was of age.

"Petunia what is that letter?" Vernon asked her when he noticed that her eyes had become watery.

Petunia looked at her husband, ignoring the screams that erupted from the kitchen. "My sister and her husband are dead,"sShe said with none of the usual crispiness that filled her voice when she discussed Lily.

"Wh-Really?" he said, suddenly avoiding her eyes.

Petunia observed him shrewdly. "Vernon, did you know about this?"

"No, I only heard some… strange folk mentioning the name Potter yesterday…," he said truthfully. "And saying something about their son Harry.'"

"Oh," Petunia said, closing the door softly, and retreating to the kitchen.

"What about your nephew?" he asked, following her.

"As my sister and her husband are dead, we have to keep him." As she spoke, Petunia felt another pang of grief and loss, but she brushed it aside.

"But-but Petunia, your sister, she-you know she-"

"Vernon, we have to keep him. I don't want to anymore than you do, trust me," she added. "But we have to."

Vernon gaped at her, but didn't seem to have any response.

"Besides, some of those strange people might come to us if we refuse. What would the neighbours say?"

Indeed, she knew that her husband didn't think that her sister's lot would be much endearing to the neighbours.

"Ok, ok." Vernon said hastily, getting a squirming Dudley out of his high-chair. "But will he go to…-to the school?" She placed Harry on the couch for a moment and looked at her husband. Petunia could see that he wasn't happy with her decision, to keep Harry as a son.

"We'll see." She said, just as baby Harry began to cry.

Petunia looked down and saw Dudley on the couch, pinching Harry's face and yelling in glee as though he couldn't be any happier seeing the baby beside him cry.

One thing is sure though, Petunia thought. Harry will not have an easy time.