Six-Thirty, Wednesday morning, Petunia Dursley woke to the muted beeping of her alarm clock. She turned it off quickly, slipped out of bed, and tiptoed down the stairs. She should have at least an hour before Dudley woke up, she figured.
Petunia had started this early morning routine soon after Dudley was born to have time to herself for peace and quiet, for her everyday life had become much busier since Dudley had been born. She sat every morning going through the ads for her 9:00 errands.
Petunia pulled on her thin bathrobe and started for the stairs before her motherly instincts pulled her towards Dudley’s room.
He was lying in his crib, his once carefully tucked in blanked now flung off, one chubby arm wrapped lovingly around his stuffed rabbit, Boppy. She leaned over him and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead. Petunia took one last look at her sleeping angel and walked out of his room.
Once downstairs, she made herself a large cup of tea. With the tea clutched firmly in her hand, she walked to the front door, grabbing the milk bottles on her way. She made a mental note to tell Vernon to fix the door hinges as the door squeaked open.
She screamed at what she saw.
She heard clattering upstairs. “What the …”
Petunia collected herself slightly and tried to keep her voice steady.
“Nothing, nothing. I-I just…thought I saw a spider.”
It was a pretty pathetic cover-up, but Vernon seemed to accept it.
She wasn’t quite sure why she wasn’t telling her husband, but she did know what she was seeing. On the steps of Number Four, wrapped in a brown plaid blanket, was a baby.
She stared at the baby, who was surprisingly still sleeping despite her disturbance, willing an explanation. As if she had been heard, she noticed the letter. Its corner was peeking out of the edge of the blanket.
Petunia finished reading, and sank down onto the step, trying to absorb it all.
The baby next to her made a small noise. She started slightly and looked down to find that he had woken. His mouth stretched in a silent yawn and he squirmed slightly in his blankets. Thankfully, he had not begun to cry, and she got a better look now at him. He was small, very small really, not big enough to be a year old. But maybe, she thought this only because, compared to her son, he was small. His hair was jet black and what there was of it was in disarray. The same hair as than stupid wizard. His eyes were already changing from their baby blue into a brighter color. She knew what color those eyes would change into. She knew what color eyes he would have for the rest of his life. And she knew where he had gotten those eyes.
Petunia read the letter again, and began to fully realize what it was saying. This was all happening because her sister was dead.
She tried to tell herself that she shouldn’t care what happened to Lily. It was her own fault that she got herself mixed up in all this “magic” business, she thought sternly. You are being most unlike yourself Petunia Dursley. She tried in vain to comfort herself. What she said to herself didn’t help in the slightest. If anything, it made the whole thing worse.
Petunia and Lily’s last meeting had, as others, not gone at all well, and since then they hadn’t corresponded at all. If Petunia had known that that would be the last time she spoke to or saw her sister…
Although there were so many things that Petunia hated Lily for, and that Lily probably hated her for, the fact of the matter was that they were sisters, and there had been a time when that was a perfectly lovely thing to be.
Lily and Petunia were close as children. Petunia remembered the tea parties they had had. A beautiful lace-trimmed table cloth and matching napkins would be spread out over the small table in their living room. Miniature painted cups were filled with tea, and even more milk and sugar. Their mother sometimes made them little cakes or sandwiches. Otherwise cookies found in the cupboard would work just as well. They would easily spend an hour helping each other into dresses and brushing their hair, for they always needed to look “just so” for their party. The ladylike manners didn’t last very long, though, and soon they would be giggling uncontrollably and dancing their dolls across the table.
People forgot the difference in their age, and they sometimes did themselves. They could easily be considered each other’s best friend.
That was all before magic entered their lives. Magic changed everything. It made them almost forget all the childhood fun they had had. Magic. Easily the thing Petunia hated most.
The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon. Petunia realized that she was still sitting on the front steps. She came to her senses then, a little, and thought of the neighbors’ reaction should they witness this scene. She was glad once more that she had woken early.
Petunia didn’t know then, didn’t realize how her next action would alter the lives of her and her family. She didn’t realize that she was about to become a surrogate mother to one of the world’s greatest and most famous wizards. She didn’t know if it was the letter, that somehow intimidated her, or if it was something more. But she made her decision. With her long, thin arms, she quickly scooped up the little bundle, Harry James Potter, in her arms and carried him over the threshold, out of the autumn chill, and into their home.
What That Morning Brought by keara96
Story Notes:
Disclaimer: Anything to do with the Harry Potter world belongs only to the wonderful JK Rowling.
Thank you to eyeofthetiger/Dani for beta-ing this!
Chapter Endnotes: That little white box down there is looking mighty empty...