Familiar with the Eyes, but Not with the Owner

Title: Familiar with the eyes, but not with the Owner.

Author: Tripletrouble88

Chapter 1:

I step unseeingly outside, mentally running through my plans for today. Lamb roast for dinner - after all, that is Vernon's favourite, and Dudders does so love playing with the peas. I plan to take my son to the park, but looking out at the grey clouds that govern the sky, I rapidly change my mind, unaware of how meaningless all my plans will be.

As I pick up the milk, I glance carelessly around, getting ready to re-enter the warmth of my home, when a bundle catches my eye. I step hesitantly towards it. .

I peer into the bundle and rear back in surprise. For peering obstinately back at me is a baby boy approximately Dudley's age. He has a tuft of black hair that sticks out in all directions, and his features are eerily familiar.

Stepping back, I refuse to pick up the silent child, refuse to accept the brutal reality that I was already warned of.

-Flashback-

Ding-dong.

The sound of the doorbell startled me as I sat dozing in the rocking chair. Rubbing my eyes, I hauled myself out of the chair and waddled towards the front door, my overly pregnant belly before me.

Ding-dong.

"I'm coming!" I shouted irritably, wondering who this impatient visitor was. It couldn't be Mrs Jones, our neighbour, as she was on holiday, and my parents had died the year before.

Reaching the door, I hurriedly undid the lock, pulled it open, and found myself looking into the face of the person...

Before promptly shutting the door.

Ding-dong.

"Petunia!" came his voice, "I know you're in there! Open the door."

Mutinously I remained silent. What on earth was my brother-in-law, the freak husband of my only sister doing on my doorstep?

"Look, Petunia," repeated the man, "you can open the door, or I can get my wand out and open it myself."

I opened the door and found James Potter smiling victoriously.

"Get in," I hissed, stepping aside. "I don't want anyone seeing you on my doorstep."

"Nor do I wish to see you, my dear Petunia," retorted James - the smile disappearing. "I came because of Lily."

I paused briefly, a rush of emotions flooding me at the sound of that name. For Lily Evans - Potter, as she was now - was my sister. My sister, who went off to some freak school before marrying the black-haired man who stood before me, hence committing herself to a life of...freakishness.

"What about her?" I retorted, hiding my concern behind a mask of bitterness. "Hasn't finally come to her senses and left you, has she?"

"No." replied James coldly, and, without further ado, he told me about the war, about the atrocities that were being committed by both sides and about the losses of friends that both he and Lily had suffered.

My mind went numb long before he had finished, long before he listed several of Lily's friends who had died - names that even I recognised - whose lives had been cut short, people who could easily have been Lily.

"Petunia?"

James had stopped speaking and was looking at me cautiously with something in his eyes that resembled pity. Clearly Potter didn't seem to think that I could handle the reality of war like his wife could. Perhaps he thought that I was too weak, too frightened, too cosseted.

"Can I make you a cup of tea?"

"No," I bit out slowly. "Just say what you have to say and get out of my house, Potter."

After that James was silent for a while until he once again took up his thread and told me exactly how this whole thing affected me.

"Lily's pregnant," he announced. He held up a hand to stop me from responding. "I know you know that - she said she wrote to you."

"So you're going to have a child who no doubt will be as much of a freak as you," I responded acidly. "I still don't see why I should care."

"If anything happens to Lily and me, we'd both really like you to look after Harry." James replied, looking hard at me, his eyes cool and calm despite the fact he was talking about his own death.

Shocked, I remained silent for a long time.

"Why me?" I finally asked, my voice no more than a whisper. "What about your parents? Your friends? Surely you'd rather they took...Harry?"

I had difficultly getting my lips around that name; it was hard to believe the amount that the name suddenly meant to me. On one hand it was the first child of my only sister - a sister who I could hardly believe was old enough to be having her own child. On the other hand it would just be another addition to that freak world, the world that slunk in the shadows and that I now knew was in turmoil.

"Why not?" responded James wryly. He shook his head. "We had asked my parents to look after him," he added, his eyes suddenly cold and flat, filling me with fear, "but they were tortured to death last week by Voldemort's supporters." "We've now asked Sirius to take him. After all, he will be Harry's godfather, but if anything happens to Sirius - God forbid - then we'd really appreciate it if you could take him," James repeated earnestly, staring at me.

"Oh," I replied inadequately, refusing to meet his eyes and instead staring into my lap.

James shook his head mutely, his eyes focused on mine.

"She doesn't even like -" I began before James abruptly cut me off.

"She loves you, Petunia, and at one time she even needed you, but you threw that away. YOU, not her. It would mean a lot to her - to us," he corrected. "He's our only child, our mark on this world, Lily's mark on this world, you could look after him, you could keep him safe, keep him alive."

He stopped there, breathing deeply in an effort to calm himself.

"For Lily, Petunia - and for your parents."

Startled at his last line, my neck jerked upwards to stare into his face, a face that was suddenly lined - his eyes were dark and empty, as if the horrors were now too much.

"I'll do it."

The words came out suddenly, so much so that even I was surprised. Yet they seemed to fill the gap between us. James abruptly stood up and hugged me - briefly to be sure, but a hug nonetheless - before he stepped back, his face less lined and his eyes twinkling - more like the young man I knew him to be.

And in that moment, that moment of utter change in my brother-in-law's face, I suddenly had an insight into the boy that had become James Potter. For there was a man whose world had been torn apart. A man who fought to protect those he loved, though he himself was barely older than a child. What impressed me most, though, was that he was willing to sacrifice his pride on behalf of his wife - for asking me to care for Harry was surely her idea - and of course his unborn son.

I was silent as he left, following him to the door and inclining my head as he bid me, 'Take care.'

I replied the same, yet to both of us the words seemed strangely redundant, and even brought a wry smile to his young face.

In the days that followed I often reflected on his visit, and my agreement, but it was only after I gave birth to my son that I truly appreciated the weight of my decision.

-End flashback-

As I break out of my thoughts a thin wail fills the air. Turning unconsciously towards the bundle, I cautiously pick up my nephew before realising the sound is coming from within my home.

Dudley.

Looking down on Harry, I suddenly wonder the impact my nephew will have on my son, and it is then that I first consider not taking him in.

As if sensing my thoughts the baby begins to squirm, and I look down to find eyes peering endearingly out at me, eyes all too familiar, although I can hardly claim that I am unfamiliar with their owner - they belong to my sister, Lily.

Those familiar eyes take me so easily back to my childhood, to my Lily. Holding in tears, I hurry into the living room, where I sink into a chair, my arms clasped firmly around the precious bundle, and it is only then that I begin to cry.

I cry not just for my sister and brother-in-law - whose lives were cut brutally short - nor just for Harry, who now faces life as an orphan, but for everyone who unexpectedly finds themselves regretful even though it is suddenly far too late.