Chapter 2: Morning Surprises

Petunia sipped her tea as she looked out the kitchen window. The neighborhood was quiet, all the children still asleep after their long, sweet filled day yesterday. She sighed happily, thankful for her normal life. Petunia had worked hard to make sure that her home and family were the epitome of normal and was determined that nothing would change that. Not even that freakish sister of hers. Thankfully, no one but Vernon knew of her secret. Her sister was a witch. They hadn’t talked in years. That was her doing of course. It wasn’t that her younger sister didn’t try. Several times a year, letters would come. And she would return them, unopened. Petunia didn’t want anything to do with that freak world and preferred to ignore the fact it even existed, thus ignoring the existence of her sister as well.

Looking at the clock, she realized that Vernon would be awake soon and wanting breakfast. Her precious Dudley usually slept late which gave her time to prepare breakfast each morning before seeing to her child.

Getting up from the table, Petunia went to the front door to get the morning paper. Vernon always insisted on reading the news with his breakfast.

Petunia opened the door and took a step and froze. She couldn’t stop the shrill scream from passing her lips. A loud thump followed by heavy footsteps came tromping down the stairs.

“Pet!” Vernon gasped, out of breath. He froze at the sight of the bundle outside the door.

Petunia recovered from her shock and shoved the basket inside with her foot. She had a feeling that her normal life just crumbled before her eyes.

Vernon picked up the basket and they quickly moved into the sitting room. Putting the now crying child on the floor, Petunia picked up the note.

Dear Mrs. Petunia Dursley,

It is with my great and sincere condolences to inform you that last night your sister, Lily Potter, and her husband, James Potter, were murdered by a dark wizard that our world has been at war with. I am truly sorry for your loss and grieve with you as I loved them as if they were my own family.

Their son, Harry James Potter, survived the brutal attack and even managed to defeat the dark wizard in some unknown bout of magic. We may never truly know or understand what has happened this past evening. However, as his only living relatives, I beseech you to take young Harry into your home and raise him as your own. I trust that the love you held for you sister will pour over to your nephew. He is truly safest in your care.

Should you have any questions or need to contact me in anyway, simply write on the blank parchment enclosed. The letter will immediately be transferred to a charmed parchment I have here.

Graciously Yours,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Headmaster

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry

Petunia gasped and Vernon snatched the letter from her trembling hand. Her sister had been killed? Immediately grief welled up within her. Lily was gone! Before her regret could take a hold, Vernon’s angry growl snapped her out of her inward grief.

“How dare they, Pet? Just assume we’d want to take in a freak of theirs,” he growled. Petunia quickly shoved aside any former feelings of grief and closed them off. Of course her husband was right. They were freaks. Killed by a freak. And of course their son would also be a freak.

“What do we do with him?” Petunia asked, staring into the child’s green eyes that were identical to her sister’s.

“We’ll just keep him quiet. We don’t need to tell everyone that the brat is here. You said that they don’t really start doing all of the freakish stuff until they’re older, right?”

“Well, there were signs before with Lily. They don’t go to the school until they’re eleven though.”

The husband and wife made a plan to keep Harry Potter as much of a secret as possible from the neighborhood. Not willing to take anything from their own son, Petunia shoved a mattress in the cupboard under the stairs. It would do. The anger and bitterness she held for her sister was being passed onto the child but she would give him the necessities of life to prevent any more freaks from showing up at the door.

At first, everything was going smoothly. As far as Petunia and Vernon could tell, Harry was a normal toddler who actually took quickly to the cupboard. There was almost a collective sigh of relief at the fact there Harry was showing no signs of magic.

“Perhaps we were wrong, Vernon.” Petunia said over dinner, glancing at young Harry sitting in the corner, with a bottle of milk.

“Wrong about what?” Vernon asked, following her gaze to the young boy.

“He’s shown no signs of that freakishness that my sister and her husband had. Maybe he’s normal.”

“Hmm” was all the response she got as Vernon studied the boy. He still didn’t trust that this boy wasn’t going to ruin his life.

It didn’t take long for the Durlseys’ worst fears to come to light. Their normal life was rocked with the presence of a young wizard in the house. The magic events started out small. Petunia would sometimes find Harry’s bottle refilled after not filling it for a day or so. She didn’t want the freak to take away from her precious son and would only give milk, ignoring that fact that Harry was old enough to be on solid food.

As Harry grew over the next two years, so did his magic. The accidental magic outbursts, fairly common in a wizarding home, made Vernon and Petunia extra cautious about letting anyone see Harry. They never knew exactly what he would do next. One afternoon, Dudley had a friend, Piers, over for a playdate. While she was in the kitchen preparing lunch, the boys were playing with their toys in the sitting room. Harry had been locked in the cupboard, or so she had thought.

Harry was 3 years old now and had been playing quietly in the cupboard when he heard the noises of another child in the sitting room. He had already figured out by now that he was different from Dudley. Harry didn’t quite understand why he wasn’t allowed to play with toys or even other children. However, the sounds of laughter from the boys playing was too tempting. Harry really wanted to join them. So much so that he heard the lock slide on the outside of the cupboard and the door fall open. Not even thinking twice about the event, Harry squealed with joy and ran into the sitting room. Dudley, already being trained by his father to hate his cousin, threw a plastic dinosaur at the freak.

“No! You don’t play with us!” Dudley yelled, his face turning purple as he entered into a tantrum. Piers, thinking this was a new game, started throwing other toys at the smaller boy. Harry’s joy quickly dissipated as he threw his arms up to protect his face from the hard objects.

The noise from the sitting room brought Petunia running to see what the ruckus was about. “Boy! What are you doing? You little, brat!” She grabbed Harry by his arm and dragged him back, tossing him into the cupboard.

Harry stared at the closed door and couldn’t stop the tears from falling down his face. He knew better than to let his sobs be heard. He always got whacked when he made too much noise. There was no mistaking it, even at 2 years old, Harry knew he was different. A freak.