Disclaimer-I do not own Harry Potter…sniff, sniff…but I
love the books anyway. I hope you love my fic anyway too.
Author’s Note- Okay, I have been surprised at how few
authors write about this topic. I would have expected it to be a BIG missing
moment fic, especially after the OotP came out. Anywho, I hope you enjoy!
A Letter on the Doorstep
“Little tyke, Vernon Dusrley chuckled, ducking an airborne bowl of cheerios. He gave his
wife, a bony woman named Petunia one last smile before he headed out the door,
whistling a jaunty tune. After his wife had waved her husband out the door, she returned her attentions back to the 50 lb,
blond, screaming, and in her opinion adorable, 1 ˝ year old struggling
to free himself from his high chair.
“Come on baby Diddy Dudkins, won’t you eat some cereal for
Mummy?” she cooed to a completely inattentive Diddy Dudkins. Of course while
Diddy Dudkins was a charming pet name, this little beast’s full name was Dudley.
Dudley Dominic Dursley. Son to Vernon and Petunia Dursley, who saw no reason as
to why they shouldn’t spoil Dudley until he was rotten. And in his short 1 ˝
years they had nearly achieved this.
The pleasant toddler was currently catapulting his cereal
with enough force to dent the unsuspecting walls his mother fought so hard to
keep surgically clean.
“Now come on baby Duddy, won’t you eat this brand new
bowl of cereal Mummy has for you? Won’t you please eat?” Petunia tried again,
tempting the baby with a bowl of fresh Cheerios.
“Please won’t you?”
“Won’t you! Won’t you! WON’T! WON’T! WON’T!!!” The tot
mimicked, screaming at the top of his lungs. Tears streamed down his face as he
drew breath and yelled, “WANT CANDY! CANDY! CANDY! WON’T CEREAL!!!”
“Diddy, I tried to tell you we are all out of candy! You
must eat your cereal if you want to grow big and strong just like your daddy!”
Petunia shouted over top the wailing youngster. She might as well have
attempted to feed the cereal to the Cheerio-clad walls for all the good it
would have done. She sighed, and began to clean up.
Later that day, when Dudley’s temper was dormant, Petunia
took him out for a romp in the son. However Dudley wasn’t much of a romper and
sat in the shade eating ice cream from the freezer. Petunia decided that this
would be the perfect time to prune the roses,
so with shears in hand she set to work,
occasionally giving her son a smile and a “Would you like anything else
As she stood back to admire her work, she noticed something strange: an owl was perched on the picket fence of her
house. At first she tried to ignore the usually nocturnal bird, but finally she
stepped towards it and flapped her arms a bit to scare it off. The owl just sat
there, staring at her with deep amber eyes. Its black and brown plumage glinted
in the sun. The bird’s unnerving gaze made Petunia half expect it to open its
beak and crow “Nevermore!” but it just sat there serenely staring up at her
with a long, steady, and unnerving gaze.
She leaped towards the fowl suddenly, yelling, “Get out!
Shoo!” The bird gave her a penetrating gaze before adjusting its feathers and
taking flight in an unusually dignified way. Petunia sniffed and turned on her heels
to collect a sleeping Dudley and go inside where it was sure to be safe from
birds. However, Dudley decided to wake up with
a loud, “CANDY!”
But it was too late. Dudley began flailing his feet and
arms, chasing his mother through her precious
pansies and up the street.
“OUCH! Dudley baby, that is mummy’s leg! Dudley will you-OW! Didddddy…”
Dudley chased her up to Magnolia Road.
“Hello darling, good day at work?” she simpered to her
“Very well! Wonderful day!” Vernon boomed.
The family trio sat down for a dinner of chicken and
mashed potatoes. As they consumed the hearty meal, Petunia informed her
husband that the “egotistical neighbor of ours” was having just awful
problems with her daughter; she was quite
delighted. She also mentioned something about a stray cat she could have sworn
growled at poor Dudley: “It isn’t a wonder why
they put animals down.” Petunia continued gossiping away about her day, while Vernon
(who seemed unusually quiet) chewed his food,
glancing up at his wife between bites.
It was only when baby Dudley fell asleep on his mashed
potatoes (despite the chunks Petunia hadn’t been able to pulverize), that his
mother declared he had a busy day and her angel needed his sleep. Vernon let
her take Dudley upstairs as he snapped on the television.
Petunia changed a snoring Dudley into his P.J.s and kissed
his pudgy forehead, then stood back to admire him. Was it just me, or is Vernon
preoccupied? Maybe he has just been working too hard – he is such good
provider! My dear!
She decided not think on it, as she beamed at her son (who
looked much more innocent asleep) then closed the door with a soft click. Back
downstairs her husband was watching the news, and most strangely, the main
topic of conversation was owls reported flying all over the place in broad
daylight. She remembered the ebony owl that had flown in on her and
Dudley. Should she tell Vernon? Maybe it was best not to...but then again, owls?
She had opened her dainty mouth hesitantly when Vernon brought something up that
was never discussed in this house.
Her sister. Lily.
Petunia set down the tea tray she was holding with a
clatter and listened to Vernon sputter on about how these strangers might be
connected to her sister’s...species.
Her eyes narrowed sharply on the tea kettle as she angrily
poured herself some tea. Vernon should, under no circumstances, be talking
about her sister, what if Dudley heard them, he was only one, but still...but
Vernon just wouldn’t just end the subject.
“Their son- he’d be about Dudley’s age now, wouldn’t he?” Vernon
ventured timidly, like a deer in an open field.
“I suppose so,” Petunia
said stiffly, trying to clearly show that she wanted the matter closed.
Her husband either didn’t take the hint, or ignored it
completely. “What’s his name again? Howard is it?”
“Harry. Nasty common name, if you ask me.”
“Oh, yes,” Vernon said,
meekly backing down. “Yes, I quite agree.”
Petunia lay sleeplessly in bed that night, her eyes wide
open. She knew perfectly well that the Potters’
son was exactly the same age as Dudley. In fact,
Petunia had recently run into her sister. Not on purpose by any means.
That nasty child Harry had been with her. And yet, as Petunia stared up at her
ceiling, she still wondered where that sister and her husband were. That man
had taken away her sister after she became a completely qualified...un-normal
person. She couldn’t say the W word. Maybe if she didn’t say it her sister
would come back and they would be normal sisters again...they didn’t used to
avoid each other…after all they were sisters. You
are being silly Petunia, she thought as she drifted off to
Picking up the milk bottles Petunia bustled to door to set
them out for the milkman. She creaked open the door and peeked outside, the
fresh air washing over her. She bent over to set them down when she noticed a
bundle of blankets and an envelope. She stared at it, then rolled it over.
“Oh MY!” Petunia screamed as a baby’s face peeked at her
through the blankets. The letter was clutched in its hand. Petunia jumped away
from it like she had been electrocuted. The baby had a shock of black hair on
its head. Where on earth had it come from? Petunia decided to compose herself
– this was no time to lose her head, what if the neighbors saw her?
Making sure not to touch the child (who knows where it had
been) she craned her neck to read the address on the envelope. It was,
amazingly, addressed to her. Not knowing what else to do she eased it out of
the baby’s fingers and tore it open, wondering what on earth it could be.
Dear Mrs. Petunia Dursley,
We have never been acquainted, but perhaps
you have heard your sister speak of me. My name is Albus Dumbledore. I am a
wizard who was a great friend of your sister’s. I must say that your sister was
a truly remarkable person: very brave, very clever, and very loyal. It truly
grieves me to say that last night your sister was murdered by the wizard she
might have spoken of to you: Lord Voldemort. It may comfort you to know that
she died bravely and honorably.
As you also probably assumed, this is her
son Harry Potter. An orphan now as his dad was also killed in the vicious
attack. Young Harry here, he is different, different from everyone in the
wizard community. You see, he survived the very curse that killed your sister
and brother-in-law, hence the reason he has a thin scar on his forehead. This
is something no one in history has done before. The dark Wizard was in a way
“killed” by young Harry reflecting the death curse off himself.
He was shielded by love, by
the love of his mother who died protecting him. And the only thing he has left
to protect him is that love, the love that rests in his veins, and is connected
to yours. Since you share his mother’s blood you must be the one to take him in
to help him survive. His only chance of survival may rest at this house, upon
which I have already set numerous charms to protect you and your family,
including Harry if you will have him.
I ask you to do this, if not for your for
sister and Harry, then for the rest of our kind. For I fear Voldemort is not
quite dead. So protect young Harry. He is a wizard. When he comes into our
world he will be famous, and not know why. He’ll be going to Hogwarts just as
your sister did. Please keep away from the magical world as much as possible
until he is ready to accept his fate...he is too young to know now. Just as I
said before, your house is protected by charms so Harry will not attract
Voldemort’s followers. You are keeping him
alive if you take him. Please consider it.
Silence, dead silence as Petunia stared at the thick
yellow envelope. Her sister was...was dead. So that was it, no time left
for reconciling, the clock had stopped. And here Peunia was with no sister, and
a baby boy. More importantly, a wizard baby boy. How on earth could she
tell Vernon? It had been hard enough telling him about her sister. She knew she
couldn’t leave Harry – how would it look to the neighbors if they found out...and...and
this was her only sister’s son and he was in trouble, granted he was
disgracefully magical but...still...her only sister. It wasn’t like she wanted
Lily to die or anything.
“I am only doing it for my image,” Petunia decided in a
much more a convincing tone than she felt. She picked up Harry and hesitated,
then opened the door and walked into the kitchen,
her heart squeezing painfully at the thought of what Vernon was going to say. Oh
what a bother this is, she thought, trying
to persuade herself that it really was.
“Ahem...Vernon dear,” Petunia said in a fake sweet voice nervously, “um, it
is funny that you mentioned my sister last night…”
“Petunia is that a baby!?”
You like? You no Like?
Let me know! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! This is my first fic so constructive
criticism would be welcomed because I like reviews. I feed off a diet of
reviews, no really, I do. I just wanna say that my Beta-Reader is the BEST!
Thanks Megan!! Thanks for reading it and if you review: More Power to ya!