Green Eyes

Green Eyes

By Salamon2

"You never know what's going to come out of your head one day, until it comes out. I don't own Harry Potter, it is owned by J.K. Rowling, AOLTIMEWARNER, and Bloomsbury Publishing Company." ~Salamon2

...100111010101...

Petunia tended happily to the dessert she was mixing together, and then poured it into a pan and put it on the stove. She smiled happily upon the life she lived, an ordinary, everyday normal life where no one was atypical or out of place, where everyone and everything had its spot and way in life. She heard the front door open and close, thinking it was Vernon she turned, only to see those green eyes. The same green eyes that every time she looked at them seemed to make her tremble in grief. Though almost sixteen years had passed she still had not gotten over her sister's death, although publicly admitting she hated her sister, she had always loved her sister, the little sister who would come to her with her troubles her fears and her problems. She shook her head, the person with the green eyes wasn't her sister, but her own nephew, who had ran up the stairs into Dudley's second bedroom. He had never asked her anything about her sister, not like she would have said anything, but he had always been more upset over anything with his Dad. When Marge had been inflated, the last insult she had said was about his father. For that she added to the small despise she had against him, he seemed to not care for his mother as much as his father. Although a whole living witness lived with him for a summer that could, if he caught her in the right mood, tell him all about his mother and her abnormalities. He cared more for the parent that had little to do with the fact that he was still alive today. She had been told by that Dumbledore person all about what her sister had done, though his father had died to save them both, her sister had died to save him. That was another reason why she resented Harry, he had taken away her sister. He hadn't held the smoking gun, he had only been a baby, Lily had done it voluntarily, but the entire cause was his existence. Had Harry not existed she would still have her abnormal sister, who no matter what she displayed in public, who she loved dearly, and had always felt an obligation to protect, and who before dieing had sent a number of letters trying to rekindle what they had had before... It was then; unwillingly the memories she had tried to hold back came flooding to the forefront of her mind.

...100111010101...

It was a cold, dark, rainy night, like any other night in England, only this night there was a thunderstorm outside. Eight year old Petunia tossed and turned, not afraid of the storm, but just annoyed because it was keeping her up, and on a school night. That's when she heard her door open and a pair of feet running across the floor.

"Pet..." said a small child's voice, and Petunia rolled over to see her younger, five year old sister, Lily. She had begun saying the accursed nickname when learning how to say Petunia's name as a small child. Her parents thought it cute and adorable; Petunia had found it quite annoying.

"The thunder scared you?" asked Petunia in an almost routine manner, brushing off the fact that Lily had called her by the annoying nickname. The five year old nodded.

"Okay, come sit by me and talk until the storm goes away..." said Petunia, and Lily happily crawled into the half of the bed Petunia didn't take up. She squealed in fear as the next thunder roll came, and grabbed Petunia's arm and leaned her head onto her shoulder.

"Shhh... now, there's nothing to be scared of, the mean old nasty thunder's out there, and we're in here, there's no way that thunder is going to get us..." said Petunia the words that had been spoken to her four years prior when she had been in Lily's position seeking comfort from her mother.

"Why does it have to be so loud then?" asked the child so innocently.

"Cause... thunder is trying to tell lightning something, but lightning is always disappearing before thunder can say what he wants to say, so thunder's trying to shout what he wants to say it before the lightning vanishes..."

"Well I wish the thunder would say what it wants to and then stop!" said Lily, and suddenly the lightening and the thunder occurred at the same time, and there was no more of either.

"Looks like you got your wish..." said Petunia

"Pet... can I still stay?" asked Lily

"Sure..." said Petunia, and Lily fell asleep a few minutes later, leaning on her older sister.

...100111010101...

That memory was just enough to make her crack. She wanted her little sister again, not the demon that destroyed all order and structure, when she would come back from her school, but the little sister she would always protect and love. Two things had taken her away from Petunia, that school, and that boy who shared her eyes but aspired to become like his paternal side. Which was why she had half heartedly agreed with her husband to squash the magic out of him, maybe just maybe he'd be like his mother, and with no world of magic to claim him, she could have a person similar to her little sister back again. But when the boy had grown to walk and talk, she knew he had more of the demon that her little sister had become, in him rather than the adorable sweet child his mother had been. Then the owls had come she knew that her attempt had failed, and when that man had knocked down the door of the hut on the island, she let the child know how much she hated the demon that was his mother. It was then she heard sobbing from upstairs, it wasn't Dudley or Vernon, both were out, it was her nephew. Curiosity overcoming her hatred, she walked up the steps and knocked on the boy's door.

"What do you want?" asked her nephew in an angry voice.

"Open the door," said Petunia.

"It's unlocked..." said her nephew, and she bit her lip before opening the door. He was lying on his bed with a book poorly hidden underneath his covers.

"What has you upset? We can't very well have the neighbors overhearing you sobbing, so tell me what's wrong and stop whining!" said Petunia

"You wouldn't understand!" cried Harry

"Try me!" hollered Petunia

"My godfather died because of me! You happy now?" asked Harry in a rage.

"This isn't the first time someone's died because of you..." said Petunia, the anger she had been fostering starting to take control of her.

"You mean my parents?" asked Harry, and Petunia nodded, this sent Harry into a fit of rage she could tell by his face as it contorted into the same face he had made before Aunt Marge had floated out the patio doors. The trunk at the foot of his bed suddenly started to shake, and Petunia knew what was about to occur.

"Before you do something you shouldn't, let me have my say, then you can hurt me all you want, what little good it would do you. You're only reason for being here is because of your mother, my little sister, who died saving you. She was the sister I protected, the one I always comforted, the one I always was glad to cheer up. But then she went to that school, and she transformed into the monster who would cause trouble and peeve me until no end! And just before she died we were starting to reconnect, but no, you had to come along and then you're the reason why she was killed. And then you came to me, and I thought that if I kept you away from your freakishness, that you would be slightly like the little sister I lost, definitely not completely, but part way. But no, you inherited more of the demon than the sister I loved. If you hadn't existed she would have never died, if your whole world hadn't existed, I'd never lost my sister!" shouted Petunia

The trunk stopped vibrating, but the furious look still remained on Harry's face.

"You think you have it hard because a father figure comes along and then dies? Do you value your mothers' part in you so little, or the fact that she died to protect you! I can only assume, but if you strive to be anything like your parents quit ignoring your mother!" shouted Petunia, and she walked out the door and slammed it shut. She then smelled a nasty odor coming from the kitchen.

"Oh no! Even beyond the grave she disrupts my life!" shouted Petunia, and she ran back into the kitchen to find her desert she had been cooking, burnt to a crisp. After starting to clean up, Petunia felt as though someone were starring at her, she turned around to find those bloody green eyes.

"What do you want?" asked Petunia indignantly

"Is that why I slept all those years under the staircase?" asked Harry, and Petunia was taken aback at his comment.

"Is that also the reason why I had to endure a decade of torture from every single person under this roof?" asked Harry in an infuriated tone, and Petunia suddenly had an equally swelling rage float in her.

"YES! Cause I knew that that world, that magic would kill you in the end, it did it to everyone, your parents, my parents, their neighbors, and regular, ordinary, everyday people! With that piece of wood you carry comes a power, and that power leads you all into an early grave!" cried Petunia, who had started talking as if the people she had listed were right within the room with her. She forgot her desert and instead just crumpled into a heap on her spotless kitchen floor.

"You don't know how right you are..." said Harry, helping his aunt up, and she looked into his eyes, they were slightly off of the emerald shade of her mother's, his eyes were just like Lily's had been. They just stayed in those positions for a little while, a sort of bond forming between the two, one that hadn't been there before. They both recognized that Harry could die at any moment, he could be here one day and gone the next. Both wanted to turn back, but it was already too late for that, and for now they were just going to have to accept the roles that had been given to them, like actors in a play, and hope that one day the play would be finished, with a happy ending, so that they could continue building upon the bond that had been formed during the performance. She cleared her face with her handkerchief, so that the bloody neighbors wouldn't see. She then took Harry's outstretched hand, and he helped her up. She then went to the stove to save her dessert, and Harry went to his room, like usual. They both were acting as though nothing had occurred, but both knew that something had.

...100111010101...

"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players.
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts."

From: As You Like It

by William Shakespeare

...100111010101...

Fin