An address that was written in a brilliant shade of emerald ink graced the front of the envelope. There wasn’t a single Muggle postage stamp. There was no return address.
While the envelope contained an address of sorts, it was not an address that any Muggle postmaster would deliver to. In fact, had a Muggle postmaster accidentally happened on this envelope, they probably would have taken the time to ring the doorbell at Number Four Privet Drive.
As it was, Petunia was deathly afraid that her neighbors would think it odd that she was now caring for her abandoned nephew. She didn’t want to add any fuel to the fire. Though, in reality, she was the one to gossip amongst her neighbors. Many of them avoided her, hoping to avoid being drawn into her daily drama.
Currently, Petunia sat on the last barstool, adjacent to the kitchen counter. Had the postmaster rang the bell, she would have hit her head on the frying pan hanging directly above her. That would have sent her through the roof, screaming bloody murder on the way.
Her nephew, the freak son of her only sister and her vagabond husband, had been dropped off on her doorstep in the early hours of the morning.
“Now,” she muttered bitterly. “Now I have this blasted envelope in my hands. I’m sure it contains some sort of a ridiculous request from that old coot.”
Her hands shook. She stared at the front of the envelope, the loopy green writing jumping out at her.
#4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging, Surrey
Last Barstool, Kitchen Counter
Petunia turned the envelope over. Her fingers grazed the raised roughness of the wax seal that was holding the envelope closed.
For the past few hours, in between feeding Dudley and Harry, she had taken to staring at the envelope. She had been debating, trying to decide whether or not to open the envelope.
“I certainly don’t want to know anything more than I already do. Still, it would be good to know what is happening. I might need to discuss it with Vernon, eventually.” Petunia continued to stare at the letter, wondering what Vernon would say if he heard her talking to an empty room.
In the end, Petunia’s curiosity and love of a good scandal overrode her disgust. She slid a manicured finger under the flap of the envelope. Her fingernail snagged briefly on the seal, bearing the Hogwarts family crest, before breaking it apart. The envelope flap sprung open, as if propelled by a hidden spring.
The parchment inside was the same faded, yellowed color as the envelope. There were three sheets of parchment, three sheets that would change Petunia’s life. They were large sheets, folded multiple times in order to fit them into the envelope. After having been folded, the parchment was thick and barely contained in the envelope. She hesitated before sliding the crisp sheets onto the kitchen counter.
Petunia carefully unfolded the parchment. She scanned the greeting at the top of each sheet. There were two addressed to her, and one addressed to Harry.
“As if he can read,” she scoffed. “I hope they don’t expect me to read it to him. He won’t understand a single word of it.”
Without a single thought, she tossed it on the counter, intending to dispose of it in the fireplace after she had read her own letters.
Her letters were very different from Harry’s. The first letter was in the same emerald ink as was on the envelope and Harry’s letter. The second letter, while completely different, seemed slightly familiar.
The letter was written in violet ink, the words spread out evenly across the page. Every sentence lined up perfectly with the sentence before, creating parallel lines of tiny writing. The writing was neat and precise, despite its small size.
Petunia decided that the safest course of action would be to destroy all of the letters once she had read them. She made a mental note to burn the letters before Vernon got home. The last thing she wanted was to alert Vernon to Harry’s abnormality.
Once she had made up her mind to destroy the letters, she decided to read the letter written in violet ink first. She knew that the other letter was from Dumbledore, and probably contained instructions that Vernon wouldn’t allow her to follow.
My Dear, Sweet, Baby Sister,
If you have received this, and Harry is not yet of age, then it will be necessary for him to stay with you for a bit. I know that this might come as a shock, and might be an inconvenience for you, but I have no where else to turn.
Dumbledore will be able to answer any questions you have, and provide you with all the answers you will seek. Solicit his counsel, my sister, for he is the wisest wizard I know.
I know that you will take Harry into your home, no matter how grudgingly, and seal the protection I have given him. Dumbledore is bound to have added his own protections to the mix.
I beg of you, dear sister, treat him well. The world, as we know it, will be dependent upon him some day. The world he will re-enter will be bleak. He will need to be filled with hope and be empowered by love.
I’ll have you know; that no matter what has happened between us, no matter what time in your life you are reading this, no matter how bad it has become between us, I have never stopped loving you.
Always your loving sister,
Lily
Petunia wiped the tears from her eyes and picked up the letter from Dumbledore.
Petunia,
As you already know, or are about to find out, Lily has placed a blood protection on Harry. I have used my considerable power and ample skills to reinforce that protection and create special wards around your house.
By carrying Harry across the threshold to your home willingly, you have sealed the bond. I’m sorry to have tricked you, but it was the only way to guarantee Harry’s survival. Had I told you about the danger your family will experience, you might not have taken him in. That would have jeopardized everything that Lily and James worked for and their deaths would have been for naught.
While the wards around your house will protect you and your family, Harry requires superior protection. The blood bond is stronger than any ward and will protect Harry for as long as he calls this place home.
Before you think about changing your mind and sending Harry to a Muggle orphanage, think carefully about the two things that I am going to tell you now.
First, as long as Harry resides in your home, you and your family will be afforded the best protection I can offer. This will include a member of the Order of the Phoenix living in your neighborhood as a guard. Feel free to contact Arabella Figg, your near neighbor, should you need any help with Harry’s care.
Second, it is too late to change your mind. When you brought Harry into your house, carrying him as if he were your own, you activated an ancient magic, which cannot be broken without a blood sacrifice. Blood from your first born will break the spell, but are you truly willing to sacrifice your son to get Harry out of your life?
Keep my words in mind when Vernon begins to rant.
I will be keeping an eye on Harry, in an effort to make this as painless as possible for both him and you.
When the time comes, I will send for Harry. His name has been down for Hogwarts from the day he was born. He will complete his magical education and follow his destiny.
Treat him well, Petunia. His road will be long and arduous. Prepare him for the road ahead. Love him as if he were your own. Love him, for it will prove to be important above all else.
Should you need to contact me, simply call for Fawkes. He will deliver any message you desire with the utmost speed.
Sincerely,
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Order of the Merlin, 1st Class
As Petunia finished Dumbledore’s letter, it glowed brighter than any Muggle light source she had ever seen. The parchment grew warm, and Petunia dropped it quickly.
The parchment drifted down on the slight breeze wafting through the kitchen. It landed on her bare knee, as her skirt was hiked up around her thighs. When the parchment made contact with Petunia’s knee, it caused her to howl in agony. She slapped at the parchment, trying to knock it off her skin.
The parchment fell to the floor. Petunia looked down, in an attempt to examine her knee for an injury. It was then that she saw the mark. It was just above her knee, on the fleshy part of her lower thigh. She stood up quickly, her skirt hiding the vibrant crimson mark. The mark, Petunia swore, looked just like a…lily.