The Sugar Quill
Author: 7Snorkacks Live  Story: A Letter On the Doorstep  Chapter: Chapter 1--The Letter and the Baby
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The distribution of this story is for personal use only. Any other form of distribution is prohibited without the consent of the author.

Disclaimer-I do not own Harry Potter…sniff, sniff…but I love the books anyway

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! 8<)




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.






“Won’t you?”






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 sweetums?”



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!”



“Dudley baby-”



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 husband.



“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 otherafter all they were sisters. You are being silly Petunia, she thought as she drifted off to sleep...






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 Voldemorts followers. You are keeping him alive if you take him. Please consider it.




    Albus Dumbledore



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!





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