Familiar with the Eyes, but Not with the Owner

Disclaimer : Anything you recognise belongs to J K Rowling, anything you don't doesn't!

Having finally woken and fed Dudley, I place him gently in the play pen as I hurry to run a bath for the toddlers.

When I return I am surprised to discover that the pair of them are playing together. It's some invented hand game that involves squealing and incomprehensible jabber.

I watch them silently for a while, intrigued by the contrast between them - it is the eyes that really catch my attention. Dudley has inherited mine- a dull blue dotted with streaks of grey - while Harry's are that startling emerald green that was Lily's. If one pictured just their eyes, these same children could have been Lily and I a little over twenty years ago.

"Right then," I announce, instantly catching the pair's attention, "it's time for a bath."

Walking over, I instinctively pick up Dudley first, a stark reminder that he is my child, while Harry is the outsider.

The walk to the bathroom is a short one, and when I return for Harry, I find that he has discovered a teddy in the corner of the play pen. Gently removing the toy from his mouth, I once again settle the child on my hip; he is considerably lighter than Dudley.

Dudley is sitting on the floor, happily nibbling his big toe. I place Harry and then Dudley into the water, and then I open the toy box and haphazardly add a few boats and balls to the water, allowing Dudley all his usual ones plus a few more to share with Harry.

"Duckie?"

Turning my attentions away from Dudley, I turn to Harry, surprised to see him looking hopefully up at me.

"Duckie!" he repeats more forcefully.

Shaking my head slightly, I turn up my palms to show the boy my empty hands.

"No, Harry, 'Duckie' isn't here."

It strikes me now how many comfort figures are abruptly missing from Harry's life- no father, no mother, no godparents, no other aunts or uncles, not even grandparents. I remember meeting his paternal grandmother; it's strange now to think that I have met her, and he never will.

flashback

"I need to know how many people you're inviting, Lily!" my mother repeated, evidently frustrated.

"Um...I guess around twenty-five," Lily responded after several moments. "Between twenty-five and thirty anyway. Most probably won't come though."

"Why on earth not?" asked my mother in confusion. "I'm sure they can't all be on holiday!"

"No mum. It's just that most of them won't be able to get here. They won't even own cars, and many of them live miles away!"

Mum was clearly surprised by this, and her eyes flicked quickly to me before moving on to Katherine, who was sitting opposite her.

"She's right, Mrs Evans," agreed Lily's best friend, Katharine. "We normally travel by Floo powder."

"Floo powder? What's that?" I repeated, forgetting that I was pretending to be uninterested.

"It's when you travel through fireplaces," explained Kat. "You have to be connected to the..."

A look of excitement spread like wildfire across her face.

"That's it! I think I can get you connected to the network!"

"Connected to the network?" I repeated, aghast. "Why on earth would we want freaks like them connected to us?"

"Petunia!" cried Lily, looking towards my mother for backing.

My mother, however, was far too busy staring at our guest, a smile growing on her face.

"Could you, Kat?" she asked, ignoring both my sister and me. "That would be perfect!"

"Leave it with me, Mrs Evans," replied the girl confidently, and suddenly I had a very bad feeling about this.

end flashback

Katharine managed to organise the Floo attachment with relative ease, and when pressed about it merely insisted that her father had friends in the Ministry.

Throughout the rest of July my mother continued her planning for Lily's party, with occasional input from Lily and my father. I, on the hand, dreaded the day; a house filled with freaks and misfits was definitely not my idea of fun.

But the day approached with speed, as everything that is dreaded does, and before I knew it, it was the morning of August 4^th, and Lily had popped out to collect some last minute snacks from the supermarket.

flashback

"...just make sure that the fire is always lit," reminded a voice as I entered the kitchen.

Surprised, I looked around to find a petite middle-aged brunette seated at our table. My mother sat to her left, diligently making notes on a pad of paper.

"You must be Petunia," greeted the lady, an easy smile gracing her features. "Come, have a seat."

Grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl, I sat down opposite her, immediately entranced by her twinkling eyes.

"Petunia, this is Fiona Potter," clarified my mother. "She's come to explain how the Floo Network works."

"Oh," I responded inadequately before meeting my mother's eye and remembering my manners. "It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too, Petunia," responded the witch, her hazel eyes twinkling merrily at me as she suppressed a knowing smile.

Just as she began to speak once more, my sister rushed in.

"Sorry I'm late!" she cried, wrenching open the fridge and hurriedly stuffing groceries in. "I bumped into Mrs Tompkins from next door, and she wouldn't stop asking questions. I barely got away!"

Finished, she turned to face the table, and it was only then that she caught sight of our guest.

"Oh," she exclaimed in the exact same manner that I had before.

"Have a seat, Lily," laughed Mrs Potter, clearly noticing the similarity. "You look like you could do with a rest."

Grinning sheepishly, Lily sunk into the chair and waited in silence as Mrs Potter finished explaining the Floo Network to my mother.

Having finished, Mrs Potter turned her attention to Lily and me.

"Well, I must say there's certainly no resemblance between the two of you," she announced. "And from what your mum's said, I doubt that's the only difference."

Lily and I nodded, pointedly looking away from each other.

Mrs Potter must have noticed this because she swiftly changed the topic.

"So you're turning sixteen, Lily? Have you decided what NEWT subjects you intend to take?"

"Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy and Potions," Lily responded immediately - obviously this was something she'd already thought about.

"Five then? My son's also planning to take five, and I'll warn you as I warned him, they're not called Nastily Exhausting for nothing!" advised Mrs Potter.

"In fact," she continued, "you probably know my son - James Potter?"

At the name, three heads immediately turned to stare at our visitor. One simply couldn't live with Lily without hearing about her worst enemy. Lily's jaw slackened in surprise and dismay.

"You're Potter's mother?"

After that shocking revelation and frantic attempts to conceal our horror at this new disclosure, the talk at the table continued, with Mrs Potter asking both Lily and me about ourselves and discussing children and house tips with my mother.

To me this seemed completely normal - in fact, I was surprised by how normal she seemed despite being one of them. If this was how a common witch turned out, then perhaps Lily wasn't such a lost cause at all - perhaps she wasn't as unfortunate as I, and my parents, had supposed.

Lily, however, seemed to take it upon itself to ruin this particular delusion.

"Not to be incredibly rude, Mrs Potter," she began cautiously, "but why do you know so much about the Muggle world?"

Now this particular question confused me hugely. First off, what on earth did 'Muggle' mean? She couldn't mean the normal world; she would have said so. But if she did mean that world, then why wouldn't Mrs Potter know? It was her world, too, after all.

"My husband is in the Ministry - the Ministry of Magic," she explained upon seeing my confused expression. "He has a lot of dealings with the Muggle - the non-magical - world..."

She continued on, entertaining Lily and my mother with amusing anecdotes about her experiences, but at this point I tuned them out.

Lily's perception of normal had undergone a dangerous change. Suddenly I felt all the hope I had ever held for my sister disappearing, like a long dwindling candle that abruptly seemed devoid of any flame.

The day continued like that, and Mrs Potter and my mother steadily became fast friends. She insisted on remaining behind to help arrange for the party, giving advice and making tea.

It was in the middle of one such cup of tea that we were interrupted.

"Mum! Are you there?"

Nearly spilling my cup of tea, I looked around, expecting to see the television mistakenly left on.

It was not. Instead it sat serenely in the corner staring defiantly at both my mother and me as we stared - equally mystified - back at it.

"Mum?" repeated the male voice, which on second thought sounded as though it was coming from our living room.

"Oh dear," announced Mrs Potter, and she serenely put her cup down and stood up. "It looks like my son's in need of me."

Noticing my mother's shocked and mystified face, she continued with a wry smile.

"He's using the Floo Network that you've had set up for the party," she explained. "I gave it to him just in case; I do hope you don't mind."

Shaking her head mutely, my mother somehow managed to smile in return, though I could see that it was far from whole-hearted. Not that I blamed her; how she could bear to have such freaks use our perfectly normal fireplace to contact us, or anyone in our house, was beyond me. And to think that her daughter, my sister, was somehow one of these freaks - well, even I found it hard to imagine how terrible it must be for her.

"Well, we better finish up," announced Lily, interrupting my thoughts. "We just have to move the furniture around."

"Coming, Mum?"

In the living room, we found Mrs Potter in conversation with a teenage boy, whose head sat serenely in the fire.

As Lily came into view, he stopped the conversation and smiled up at her. A dimple appeared in his right cheek as his eyes twinkled merrily at us. If I hadn't known him to be a freak, I might have been rather taken with him; fortunately, however, I had been forewarned.

"Good to see you, Evans," he said by way of greeting.

"Potter," replied Lily with a slight inclination of her head.

Watching this interaction, I saw a small frown appear on Mrs Potter's face; my mother merely raised her eyebrows.

"James, I would like you to meet Mrs Evans and Lily's older sister, Petunia."

"It's nice to meet you," announced the boy charmingly, though I noticed his eyes flickered towards Lily.

"Would it be all right if three small boys came over for a while?" asked Mrs Potter apologetically, turning to my mother. "James is watching them at the moment, but his friend has need of his help, and it's not possible for them to go with him."

"That's not a problem," said my mother with a smile. "I had five brothers when I was small, two older and three younger. I know how to handle boys - and yet God gave me girls."

At this, both Mrs Potter and James laughed; his deep baritone sounded like a pealing bell.

"Well, if you couldn't have boys, at least he gave you beautiful girls," responded James with a chuckle and an easy smile.

"James?"

Looking around again, I tried to locate the source of the voice; it seemed to be coming from behind James.

"I have to go, Mum. I'll send them right over."

"That's fine. Take care now. I do hope everything's all right."

"So do I."

With that, James disappeared, and no sooner had he done so than a red-haired boy toppled out of the fireplace.

"Hello, Bill," greeted Mrs Potter distractedly, pulling him to his feet and moving him away from the fireplace.

It became immediately clear why she was doing this because the fire glowed green once more and spat out a second boy. This one was much younger than the first, and he clutched a teddy and a book.

Finally, a third boy appeared, this one again younger than the first, but much closer in age than the second had been.

"Boys, these are Mrs Evans, Lily and Petunia," explained Mrs Potter, pointing us out as she did so. "These are Bill, Charlie and Percy Weasley. Their parents are at the hospital with Molly's best friend. She's having a baby - twins, I heard." she added with a devilish smile.

"We have to finish off some work, so I'm going to ask you to sit quietly for a while, all right?" instructed Mrs Potter, turning to the three boys.

Nodding obediently, the boys sat down on the sofa - Bill pulling out a pack of cards that he and Charlie began to play with.

The moving of the furniture didn't take long, especially after the help that Mrs Potter insisted on providing.

As Lily hurried upstairs to get changed, I sat down with Bill and Charlie.

"So how old are you both?"

"I'm ten, and Charlie's eight," announced Bill importantly. "I'll be going to Hogwarts soon."

"You know that already?" I asked, confused, sure that Lily hadn't known until she received that dratted letter.

"Oh, he hasn't had his letter yet," intervened Charlie matter-of-factly, "but he will go. Everyone in our family's been to Hogwarts."

"Your WHOLE family?"

"Yep." he responded proudly, "We're purebloods, so almost everyone in our family is magic. Aren't you?"

"Of course she isn't," whispered Bill to his brother, nudging him sharply. "James warned us, remember? They're Muggles, and it's the red-headed sister who's the witch - she's Muggleborn."

I was astonished. I'd always assumed that being abnormal was something random - that it only happened to oddballs like my sister. But apparently it ran in families - it could have been me! The thought itself made me shudder. So if this ran in families, and Lily married a fellow freak, then her children - my nephews and nieces - would be condemned to that life too.

Forcing myself back to reality, I realised the two boys were now bickering angrily. Cutting them off, I persuaded them to resume their card game before approaching the youngest boy.

"Hello Percy," I said cautiously, waiting for him to put down his book. "What are you reading?"

Lowering his book slightly, Percy peered up at me, his eyes magnified behind his thick glasses.

"It's about Marvin. He's a Muggle."

"Oh."

I was shocked by the emphasis he put on the word. He made it sound as if being a Muggle was something unusual - something odd.

Falling silent, I suddenly found myself wondering about Lily's life at Hogwarts. Did she stand out because of her Muggle background? Did she ever feel left out or lost in this other world?

This was the first time I'd ever wondered about Lily's other life. I'd never before really cared about her school or the people there. I'd merely assumed that she'd fit in with other people who were oddballs like her, who came from perfectly normal families and somehow turned out to be so abnormal.

It astounded me that this was not the case. What astounded me even further was that it saddened me. It saddened me to think that she didn't belong in either world, that she wasn't completely normal or completely abnormal either. She floated somewhere in between, attempting to embrace both worlds.

flashback ends

That probably astonishes you - that I, Petunia Dursley, was ever able to feel anything other than contempt for my only sister. After our parents died, people suddenly forgot that Lily had once been 'Muggle' - that once, not so long ago, all she'd ever wanted to do was become a doctor, not the Charms and Potions teacher she eventually became.

But what strikes me the most is how many people forget that she wasn't always a Potter. She was an Evans- and that in itself made her Lily. It made her Daddy's little Lily, Mother's laughing Lily, and of course my Lily; she wasn't Potter's forever, you know.

Once, not so long ago, she was mine.