The Sister's Story

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JKR. I own nothing.

The Sister's Story

Chapter Three

I toiled away at my job. Lily never wrote to me, save once for asking if she could stay with her friends for the remaining holidays before she graduated. I had been asked to take care of her, as I was now officially her guardian, but I had gladly agreed when her letter came, stiffly asking my permission. A couple of months after her graduation, however, I was surprised to see an owl flying towards my bedroom window. My first instinct was to refuse to let it in. However, after two days, I gave up. As I thought, it was carrying a letter. It was written on very yellow and old looking paper. I glared at it. They can't even afford to use proper paper. Also as I had predicted, it was from Lily. I thought briefly about burning the envelope, but the memory of what had once happened when one of Lily's friends had tried to burn charmed paper was enough to deter me. Who knew if she had done something to it? It wouldn't be safe to burn it. Could I throw it away? Another memory of a book which had constantly followed its owner around, no matter where it was left, abolished that idea. In the end, I felt that I had no choice but to read it.

Petunia,

I am going to get married to James Potter, a boy in my school. You are invited to the wedding, which will take place on the 15th of October. It will be taking place in a magical location, and therefore I cannot tell you precisely where it is. You would probably not be able to see it anyway, without the necessary charms. If you plan on attending, please reply, and someone will be sent over the day before to ensure that you can enter the location. Details of exactly where it is will also be disclosed, if you answer in the affirmative.

Awaiting your reply,

Lily

Her tone was so formal. Of course it would be,what else did you expect? I realised that she was getting married to someone in her world, a thought which would probably have made me ecstatic when I was younger. But now there was nothing but...indifference. I couldn't really care less about her personal affairs. And as for her wedding, well really! Had she actually expected me to attend? I looked over the letter again, sniffing distastefully at the phrase 'to ensure that you can enter the location'. As if I'd let someone perform...rituals...on me. And all for seeing some secret location! Well, they could keep their abnormal and freaky locations to themselves. I wasn't going to bother with wasting my time over such nonsense.

On the morning of October 15th, I woke up with the vague idea that I had forgotten something. After looking at the calendar, and spending a good portion of the day pondering on the matter, I suddenly remembered what day it was. I had long ago thrown away the letter, but I could still remember every word as clear as if I'd just read it. I hadn't exactly admitted it to myself then, but her formal tone had stung me. There had been no acknowledgement of our relationship, not even a 'your sister, Lily'. She had written as if I was a perfect stranger. Which she is perfectly justified to do, considering that you don't exactly recognise her as your sister anymore. That night, as I was trying to get to sleep, I felt the faint traces of something which could have been guilt. I banished the feeling away immediately. Honestly! It was ridiculous the way I was thinking. I had been right in ignoring the letter. Besides, if I had attended, I would have been surrounded by people of...her type. It was best not to mix with those kind of people, really.

The months came and went. I had become engaged to Vernon Dursley, a man working in the same company as me. I hadn't really loved him, but then again he was quite well off, and I didn't have any particular negative feelings about him either. I had told him nothing about my sister, save for the fact that she was a freak. I painted her in the worst way possible, and Vernon, who thankfully thought the same as me, did not pursue the issue. We had an unspoken agreement to never talk about her in the household. I moved out of my tiny apartment, and into a very nice house which Vernonhad purchased.

I had thought briefly about notifying my sister of the date of the wedding. Then, I dismissed the notion. After all, what would be the purpose? I had not attended her wedding, and I did not want it to seem as though I was begging her to attend mine. No, it would be better, really, to not send her anything at all. However, even though I was decided on the issue, I couldn't help thinking that she had sent me an invitation, and that it would be only proper, and completely normal, to send her one also. As a mere gesture of politeness. In the end, I settled with sending her a note after my wedding, telling her that I had got married. I never received anything from her acknowledging her receipt of my note. I told myself that it had probably got lost in the post, due to the fact that one glance at the envelope of an old note of hers really wasn't enough for me to memorise the return address correctly.

A year after my marriage, my son was born. We named him Dudley. It was actually Vernon's decision, and I had let him have his way, even though I wasn't really keen on the name. As Dudleygrew though, I lavished more and more love on him, the love I felt that my parents had not given to me. I decided to not have any more children after Dudley, so that he would never grow up as I had, feeling unloved. I conveniently forgot all my old feelings towards my parents, and the arguments I had used to convince myself that they had in fact loved me.

I got another note from Lily a few months after Dudleywas born. It stated very briefly that she had given birth to a boy, Harry. I was surprised that she even chose to notify me. I had not said anything after Dudley's birth, and the fact that she had actually chosen to tell me, was, to me, astonishing. Her tone, was again, very formal, but this time included an 'I just thought you might be interested' before signing off. I admit that I was perplexed with that. Why would she have thought I'd wanted to know? That I'd be interested? Was it because I had notified her of my marriage? Again, I felt some qualms of guilt because I had not told her about Dudley, and after a week of contemplating her note, I decided to reply to it. I chose to ignore the fact that I still knew her address.

I had not told Vernonabout this exchange, because I did not want him to view me as weak, replying to the note instead of just throwing it away and ignoring it. Indeed, I wasn't sure myself why I had chosen to reply, and keep the note. My few seconds of over sentimentality was paid for, though, when Vernonsaw the note. Flustered, I lied, and said that I had just received the note, and had opened it before I realised who it was from. I said that the postman had dropped it off, as opposed to the reality that it was an owl which had swooped in. Vernonaccepted my explanation, and did not seem in any way suspicious. Life continued.

It was a normal enough life. Nice and normal.Not like some - I broke my train of thought. There was no need to go there. My 'nice and normal' life, however, was soon shattered one day in early November with the arrival of something completely unexpected. The preceding day had started out normal enough, although, looking back now, I can recognise the signs I had chosen to ignore then. First of all, there was a mention of owls flying around in daylight. I, of course, immediately thought back to a certain day an owl flying through our window had changed my life. There was also a mention of shooting stars, which reminded me of one particular occasion which involved Lily's thirteenth birthday, and a certain James Potter. I had not recovered for days afterwards. Then I despised myself for such weakness. All those old days involving her should, really, have been forgotten. I shouldn't be thinking of them at all.

My plan to not think about anything relating to certain matters might have worked, had not Vernoncome home from work with an exceedingly odd question. Very nervously, he had asked about my sister, and whether I'd heard from her. I was shocked. We never brought her up. Ever. It was as simple as that. I replied rather sharply that no, I had not. Unable to contain my curiosity as to exactly why he had decided to enquire, I asked. His reply immediately made me wish I hadn't. He mentioned the owls. And the shooting stars. Which, of course, immediately made my mind spin off onto all sorts of tangents. I was, thankfully, able to control and suppress these thoughts. I was really very angry at Vernon. My sister had been a kind of taboo subject, and here he was, mentioning her as if she was someone completely normal! Then he made me angrier. He asked about her son, his age, and his name. I told him very stiffly that it was Harry (really, why had I even remembered that fact?) and, thankfully, he dropped the subject.

The next morning was one I'll probably never forget. I had got up at my usual time, and had opened the door to put out the milk bottles. And there, on the doorstep, was a tiny basket. With a baby in it. Which, at that particular moment, chose to open its eyes. I screamed. The shape, and that specific shade of green, which I had never seen on anybody else. Eventually, I calmed down to the extent that I noticed the letter the baby was clutching in his hand. My first instinct was to tear it up. After all, I hadn't really had many good experiences involving letters. Then, however, I looked at the sleeping baby, and knew that I couldn't not read it. It had to contain some information as to what had occurred (although I was beginning to suspect the truth). I opened it, and by the time I had read the first three lines, regretted my decision.

So. Lily and her husband had been murdered, and I was now entrusted with the care of her son. That was all my stunned brain had been able to gather from the letter, and I was still in shock. I could only imagine what Vernonhad thought when he found me, standing on the doorstep still staring down at the letter some twenty minutes later.

I don't remember much of the days immediately after we found Harry. My mind seemed to be constantly re-living a few, select memories - you have been accepted to Hogwarts Schoolof Witchcraft and Wizardry ... why do you constantly pester me? ... and so, it ends ... my name is Petunia ... see you around, freaks ... but there's nothing else to be done ... are you even capable of feeling anything, Petunia? ... youkilled them, Lily ... you are invited to the wedding ... my son is called Harry ... I am sorry to inform you that your sister Lily Evans Potter is no longer alive...

I had believed that I hated Lily, and that I no longer cared for her. My own subconscious proved me wrong, as I relived, again and again, one of the last words she had ever said to me - you're the freak, you're inhuman. And the last words I had said to her - you killed them, Lily. And now Lily was the one killed.

Through the memories, the pain, and the feelings of loss and sorrow, other emotions emerged. Anger and hatred. Lily and her husband had been killed, and it was people of her world who had done it. In my grief stricken state, I clung to the idea that it was the magic which had killed Lily, and that the whole magical world was to blame for her death.

* * *

When I recovered, it was to discover that Vernonhad decided to take Harry in. "Only temporarily, of course," he reassured me. "Until we can find an orphanage or any other relatives from...er...their side." At first I agreed whole-heartedly with him, but then I remembered the letter. Something in the letter about Harry...

"Vernon, where's that letter?" I demanded.

"What letter?"

"When I found...him...there was a letter - wasn't I holding a letter?" I was panicking. There had been something very important in that letter, something to do with Harry, and my sister's murder...please say you didn't throw it away, Vernon.

After an agonisingly long pause, Vernonreplied.

"Oh, that letter? I wanted to throw it away, but you were hanging onto it like it was a life belt or something. It's in the cupboard over there. But, wel, bit fishy, isn't it? I mean, it was written by one of her kind. Shouldn't we just throw it away? It might contaminate us. Or Dudley."

The thought that my dear Dudleymight be affected was almost enough to deter me. But not quite.I knew that I just had to read that letter again. Almost running, I opened the cupboard and snatched the letter out. I scanned it hurriedly, my eyes skimming over the familiar words ... I am sorry to inform you ... a very powerful Dark wizard ...

Then I came to it. The paragraph detailing why the wizard wanted us to look after Harry. Apparently Harry was still in danger from the Dark wizards who had killed my sister, and only by living with us, could he obtain some measure of protection. In a couple of minutes I reached the end of the letter. I wish to impress upon you, once again, the importance that Harry stays with you until he is of age. I myself will be along in a few days to hear of your decision.

Regards,

Albus Dumbledore

Headmaster of Hogwarts Schoolof Witchcraft and Wizardry

It had been a cloudy Tuesday when I had first beheld those green eyes staring at me from the doorstep. It was now Sunday. Albus Dumbledore would be coming in two days. Vernon had read the letter along with me, and, glancing over at him, I could see that he was fully prepared to tell Dumbledore that, important or not, Harry would most definitely not be staying with us.

I automatically thought that he was right, that of course we couldn't take the risk of having someone...abnormal living with us, but at that moment Harry chose to cry. "Little brat, why can't he keep his mouth shut?" muttered Vernonirritably. I went over to Harry. Looking down at him, once again I saw those amazingly deep green eyes, and I felt a twinge. The exact same shade...so like hers...

"Petunia? What's the matter?" Vernonsounded concerned.

Glancing once more into those eyes, I made up my mind.

"Vernon, I think that we should keep him. No, wait, let me explain. My sister was obviously...abnormal, and it was her abnormality which got her killed. This boy - he is young. Perhaps we could repress his abnormality, perhaps squash it out of him. If he grows up away from us, then one day he may come back, if he ever finds out that we abandoned him. And if...and if he's...developed his powers, he might contemplate revenge. This way, at least no one could say that we didn't act as any normal upstanding citizen should, and he would be in our debt. Also, think of our reputation! I could swear that one of the neighbours was looking at us when I first found him on the doorstep. It would be good for our reputation in the neighbourhood if we took him in."

After this rather long speech, I was quite out of breath. Vernonlooked at me, first as though I was out of my mind, and then I saw comprehension dawning in his eyes. Pressing my advantage, I spoke again. "We'll keep him away from Dudley. After all, we don't want Dudleyassociating with someone of his kind. He can sleep in that cupboard under the stairs, it's quite big enough for him. And when he gets older, he can help me with the housework. It could work out quite well, Vernon."

And so it was decided. We would keep my sister's son. Two days later Albus Dumbledore came over. Vernonspent the entire time glaring at him, and I can't say my expressions were much better. Honestly, turning up in our house wearing those clothes, if you could even call them clothes! It looked like a dress. And in full sight of everyone on the street - all the neighbours had probably seen!

He was very pleased when we told him of our decision, and also mentioned that Lily and James' funeral would be in a few days time. He said that we were both very welcome to attend, and that it would be fitting for Harry to be at his parents' funeral. I had wanted to refuse, but I found it very difficult to not comply with his wishes. Vernonseemed to have also been affected. It was Dumbledore's eyes. They seemed to...penetrate into me, and nervously, I agreed to attend Lily's funeral.

Both me and Vernonwere quite relieved when the conversation came to an end, and he turned to leave. Then he suddenly turned back, as if suddenly forgetting something. "Oh, yes, I nearly forgot...Mrs Dursley, Lily and James left several things in my possession, to be given to Harry later on. There are...various things which I think should be given to Harry personally by me, but this is Lily's old school trunk, and I think I shall leave this with you, so that you can give it to Harry when he's older." Dumbledore snapped his fingers, and an old trunk suddenly appeared in our living room. Both Vernonand I gasped, and shrunk away from it. "Well now, I think that's all I have to say. Do either of you have any questions?"

I shook my head, still staring dumbstruck at the trunk.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore beamed around at us, and took something out from his pocket. To my amazement, I recognised it as a tin of sherbet lemons. He noticed my start. "A sweet I've got rather fond of. Would either of you like one?" Vernonglared at the sweet, and shook his head curtly. I declined politely. "I'll be off, then, shall I? Once again, Mr and Mrs Dursley, thank you for agreeing to look after Harry." And with that, he shook hands with both of us (although I think he noticed how Vernonand I flinched), and left.

I stowed my sister's trunk away in the attic, vowing to never to look at its contents. Vernon didn't seem to understand why I didn't just throw it away,and I tried to explain that the trunk may have had certain things done to it. "It might be disastrous, Vernon. The things they used to do, performing all sorts of rituals on perfectly ordinary things. I just don't want to risk it exploding."

As much as both Vernonand I had wanted to skip the funeral, I think that we were both secretly afraid of Dumbledore. So we went, taking Harry and Dudley with us. It was as bad as I had feared. There were a lot of people there, all from her world. We sat through the funeral, and although I had been prepared to feel annoyance at the whole affair, I couldn't help the tiniest twinge of...something. As I listened to the speech about Lily and her husband, I realised that they were famous, because of what had happened with this Dark wizard. Again, the bitterness rose within me. Perfect Lily, she really had had it all. Even in death, she was famous, and her name would probably never be forgotten.

Vernonand I left as soon as possible after the funeral. Dudleyhad been crying the whole time, not being used to the fact that he couldn't speak whenever he wanted to. My poor darling, being forced to sit through all that. Harry had been his usual quiet self, except when a strange man had come up to us. He had screamed 'Mooey!' when he saw him, and when the man walked over, Harry had quietly murmured 'Pafoo?' At that, the strange man had sighed, briefly touched Harry's messy mop of hair (I had tried to get it tidied up, but it just wouldn't stay down - probably a mark of his abnormality), and glanced at us. Something must have told him of our feelings towards him, for he had nodded briefly, and then walked away immediately. After that incident, Vernonand I were keen to leave as early as possible. We didn't want any other people coming over, especially as they were all those kind of people.

I berated myself considerably for feeling sadness and pain after my sister's death. It was weak of me, it really was. After all, I didn't even like her! Also, she had brought it entirely upon herself. I had warned her, hadn't I? I had told her time and time again that her powers were not normal, and that nothing good would come of them. She was the one who had refused to listen to me. And now, she had the nerve to get herself killed, leaving us with her son! Vernon, too, shared my opinion. "The nerve! I know she's your sister and all, Petunia, but you must admit that it really is not fair. Why we have to provide for a brat like that I really don't know, but I suppose we have to do our duty."

I hoped with all my heart that Vernon and I would succeed in ridding the abnormality from Harry, but I knew that it would probably be no good. I dreaded the day an owl would come swooping in, with a letter for him, telling him he had been accepted to Hogwarts. Apart from the fact that I abhorred all things magical, it would be entirely too reminiscent of that day - that day which seemed so long ago in my own life, and which had changed it more than anybody could possibly have imagined.