Storytime with Rachel F Hundred

December 1984  

If anyone had asked Petunia four years before how her life would turn out, Petunia would never have guessed the truth.

Back then, she and Vernon had been utterly invested in being normal; the perfect picture of ordinary people living ordinary lives. They had just become new homeowners having purchased Privet Drive albeit with a hefty mortgage, Vernon had been newly promoted to a management position, and Dudley had been newly born and a handful for new parents.

Petunia also been a year into a full estrangement from Lily, having informed her younger sister at the funeral of their parents to stay away until their magical war had ended. She regrets the estrangement now in so many ways that she cannot count them.

Four years on and her closest friend is a witch.

Andromeda Tonks is a few years older than Petunia with a no-nonsense attitude that resembles Petunia’s own. Every Tuesday afternoon, the two women meet up for an afternoon tea at a local teashop in town. They talk most evenings on the telephone. Every Friday afternoon, Andi visits Privet Drive and teaches Petunia about potions because it turns out that Petunia has a thimbleful of magic just enough to make them work. And every so often when Melania insists on having a gathering which includes Petunia and Vernon, Andi and her husband will be there by their side to help guide them through the peculiarities of the wizarding world.

Perhaps, Petunia muses as she waves Andi goodbye, if she and Lily had met Andi or Ted in the park as children instead of Severus Snape, she would never have been estranged from her sister.

She’s been thinking about Lily a lot recently.

She closes the door and heads back to the kitchen.

It doesn’t take more than a few moments to clear away the paraphernalia of their potion-making. The small cauldron is scrubbed clean and put away on the top shelf of the pantry. There is a box filled with jars of ingredients beside it and a neat row of completed potions.

She nods in satisfaction at having her kitchen set to rights. She loves potion-making with Andi, but she hates the mess it leaves behind. She feels the same way about baking.

The clock chimes on the wall and her eyes widen. She’s lost track of the time again. Sirius always picks up the boys from their half-day at infant school on Fridays and she collects Dudley at four-thirty.

She was due to pick up Dudley five minutes ago. She hurries to shrug into her winter coat and push her feet into the lined boots she’d bought for the season. She grimaces at the dark as she steps out. She locks the door and makes her way through the chilly air to Wisteria Walk.

Her close relationship with Sirius Black is another aspect of her life that her former self would never have believed, Petunia thinks, as she crosses the road to the bungalow.

To be fair, the Sirius who she had met at Lily’s wedding had been wildly immature. He’d only sobered up to give a decent and heartfelt best man’s speech. The death of James and Lily, and taking custody of little Harry, has matured the Black heir. With the boys starting school, Sirius has even started to work for his grandfather, helping him with the vast Black estates.  

She had initially allied with Sirius over their decision to foil Albus Dumbledore’s plan for Harry and there had been some mutual bonding over the trials and tribulations of raising the boys in the first stressful year. Then they had somehow stumbled into the fact that they both hated Severus Snape when Minerva had complained about the loathsome man teaching. Sirius and Petunia have been friends ever since.

Petunia uses the doorbell and takes a moment to admire the Yule wreath hanging on the door, vibrant green leaves with red and white berries dotted here and there.

Sirius opens the door and ushers her in. He’s pulled his dark hair into a low bun, his jumper looks expensively soft, and his jeans have a stitched logo giving away their designer origin. He looks as attractive as ever in a slim English aristocratic way that has never appealed to Petunia. She prefers her Vernon, especially since he’s back playing rugby at the weekends which has done his health a tremendous amount of good.

“Good afternoon with Andi?” Sirius asks, pulling her out of her meandering thoughts.

Petunia nods, trying to ignore the flare of heat on her cheeks.  “Yes, it was…” She stops, her nose wrinkling as she registers a weird smell…

“That’ll be the eggnog,” Sirius says cheerfully. “I’m trying a new recipe and…”

Nausea overcomes her and Petunia bolts for the downstairs bathroom further along the hall, frantically shutting the door before she dives for sink. She hears Dudley shouting in alarm, Harry’s quieter rumble of concern, but she’s bent over the porcelain basin retching and unable to do anything to help Sirius reassuring them.

Finally, her stomach stops revolting. She gets shakily to her feet and opens the taps to wash away the evidence of her sickness. She checks around the counter and on her clothes but thankfully she’s managed to contain the vomit to the sink. She washes her face and swirls her mouth out with water.

Sirius is waiting for her when she opens the door. He hands her a potion. “Anti-nausea.”

Petunia downs it and is thankful when her mouth feels instantly freshened. She still feels a little trembly. She hates throwing up. She’s relieved that the smell of eggnog has disappeared entirely. Thank heavens for magic, Petunia notes with a heavy sense of irony.

“Come on,” Sirius directs her out of her outerwear and leads her into the kitchen. He sits her down at the table before he leaves returning with the boys, admonishing them both to be gentle with her.

Petunia hugs Dudley tightly to her for a long moment.

“Are you sick, Mummy?” Dudley demands as he clings to her.

“I just ate something bad, darling,” Petunia soothes him. “I’m right as rain now.”

Dudley’s mollified by her assurance and when he steps back, Harry darts in to offer a quick hug of his own.

“I’m glad you’re alright, Aunt Petunia,” Harry says quietly.

The boys are completely different in looks and personality. Dudley is a boisterous blond. He’s tall and wide for his age, a small tank who is destined for the rugby field if Vernon has his way. Harry looks as otherworldly as his magic, with his dark mop of unruly hair, bright green eyes, and silver lightning scar. He’s a slim scrap of a boy with a kind smile. But he has inherited Lily’s fierce temper; slow to build, and explosive when it blows. Sometimes he reminds her so much of Lily that she aches with grief. She has a feeling Sirius feels the same when Harry reminds him of James.

She runs a hand over Harry’s hair as their hug ends. “You need a haircut, young man.”

Harry’s mouth pulls downward. “Gran said the same.”

“We’ll do it tonight. If your Gran sees you at Sunday dinner without it trimmed, I’ll get another lecture.” Sirius says cheerfully. He sets down a cup of chamomile tea and a plate of ginger biscuits.

Petunia looks at the offerings with a frown and remembers how Sirius had told the boys to be gentle. She looks up at Sirius who is trying to look innocent. She hums and picks up the tea.

“Boys,” Petunia says firmly, “you may take a ginger biscuit and go back to your cartoons. Sirius and I need to have a talk.”

The boys roll their eyes at each other, recognising the phrasing as code for an adult discussion they are not meant to hear. They both hurriedly take a biscuit and bolt from the kitchen.

Sirius sits down opposite her.

“You know,” Petunia says.

“I know,” Sirius confirms. He smiles sadly. “Padfoot recognised when your scent changed, just like Lily’s did.” He waves a hand towards the bathroom. “She had terrible morning sickness too.”

Petunia allows her free hand to drift to her abdomen. Andi knows, but otherwise she’s been keeping the secret for weeks. “I haven’t told Vernon yet,” she admits, “I was hoping to surprise him at Christmas.”

“He won’t hear it from me,” Sirius promises. “Congratulations, Petunia.”

Petunia lets herself bask in the quiet delight Sirius’ words brings her. A second baby. Another blessing that she had never thought she would have four years before. Dudley had been a hard birth. She’d taken a healing potion Andi had given her a year before and now…

“If I have a girl I’m going to call her Lilian,” Petunia says out loud.

Sirius beams at her.

Before he can say anything, an owl pecks on the kitchen window almost scaring the life out of her.

Sirius looks apologetically in her direction as he wanders over to take the letter and offer the owl treats. He brings the letter back over to the table.

“Lupin?” asks Petunia, sneaking a look at the handwriting.

She knows Sirius has been back in touch with his old schoolfriend since the previous Christmas when Lupin had reached out for the first time. The two men have been corresponding regularly since.

“Yes,” Sirius confirms. His fingers tentatively trace over his name on the envelope before he sets it aside.

“Out with it,” Petunia says sharply.

Sirius’ gaze snaps to her.

“Something is bothering you,” Petunia states directly. “I haven’t seen you that nervous about a letter from Lupin since you got that first one.”

Sirius looks at her with a frown.

“If you don’t want to talk to me, I can call Andi to come back round,” Petunia says shrewdly.

Sirius heaves a sigh in a dramatic fashion. “There are times when you remind me far too much of your sister.”

“I take that as a compliment,” Petunia sniffs. And she does now whereas she’d have hated it years before.

Sirius’ fingers tap restlessly for a moment on the table. “Remus wrote to me yesterday. His father told him that his mother’s dementia is worsening. He’s asked him not to visit at Christmas.”

Petunia can see where the conversation was headed.

“He invited me to stay with him in Marseilles,” Sirius concluded. “I haven’t replied yet.” He glances again at the letter. “That’s probably a second invitation saying the first one was genuine. He’s probably worried at my lack of an immediate reply.”

Petunia sips her tea. “You’re going to refuse and you don’t know how to tell him.”

Sirius nods. “Harry and I have been looking forward to a family Christmas here with everyone.”

“And you can’t invite him here because he doesn’t know you’ve got custody of Harry,” Petunia continues.

Sirius nods glumly. “That’s about the size of it.”

And he was probably concerned that rejecting Remus’ invitation would re-spark their estrangement, Petunia concludes.

“Do you trust him?” asks Petunia bluntly.

“With my life, yes,” Sirius answers promptly. His silver eyes meet hers. “With Harry’s?” He bites his lip. “Remus is very much Dumbledore’s man.”

Petunia grimaces at the mention of the old wizard. She might have overcome her aversion of the wizarding world thanks to the relationships she’s built with the Black family, and with her own nephew, but she still hates Albus Dumbledore with a passion.

“I mean, he did apologise for assuming that Albus told us about his assignment with the packs during the war, and he’s said a few more things which make me think he’s a little disillusioned with him, but…”

“But it’s a lot to risk,” Petunia says.

Sirius looks miserable at her conclusion, but he nods. “I won’t risk Harry ending back up in Dumbledore’s machinations, not even to stay in contact with Moony.” He grimaces. “But if Remus and I continue our friendship, how can I not tell him about Harry?”

Petunia nods herself in understanding. “You’re questioning whether to cut him off then?” She remembers how joyful Sirius has been to resume his friendship.

“As much as I hate to say it,” Sirius sighs. He pushes his hand through his thick black hair pulling strands from the loose bun.

Petunia thinks about how she regrets her own estrangement with Lily, and her delight in her friendship with Andi. She takes another sip of her tea. “I think you should talk it over with the whole family on Sunday,” she says slowly. “Your grandparents might have an idea of how to progress forward in a way that will protect us and allow you to have Remus in your life.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Sirius allows, his expression growing contemplative. “I can always write back today and stall him; say I need to sort some things out before I give him an answer.” He holds her gaze for a long moment. “Thank you.”

Petunia huffs a touch and picks up a ginger biscuit.

“Talking of Christmas, we should discuss arrangements on Sunday to get things organised properly,” Sirius picks up a biscuit and takes a bite. He swallows it quickly. “You said Vernon’s sister is visiting?”

“She invited herself again, just like last year,” Petunia says sharply. She’s never liked Marge. She’s an overbearing bigoted woman who smells of the dogs she breeds. Vernon isn’t keen on her either, but she’s his only family. Marge thinks anyone who isn’t exactly like her is wrong. It makes Petunia ashamed to realise that she’d been following down that same path of hate herself.   

“Hmmm,” Sirius raises her cup. “Maybe you should have Andi teach you how to make a prank potion. Say something in chocolate form that will put a person out of action for a couple of days and unable to visit…”

Petunia arches her eyebrow. “Really? You expect Andi will teach me a potion to prank my sister-in-law?”

Sirius grins. “Who do you think taught me my first pranking potion?”

“Well, I clearly need to hear the story behind that statement,” Petunia says.

“We need more tea for that,” Sirius says brightly. “Well, more tea for you. I’ll need a Firewhiskey if I’m telling that particular story.”

Which means it involves either his cousin Bellatrix or his brother.

She settles back in her seat as Sirius grabs her cup and gets up to make the tea.

Her eyes stray to Lupin’s letter. Perhaps Lupin poses no threat. Perhaps he can be convinced in some way not to tell Dumbledore. Perhaps he’d see what Petunia sees every day; that Harry is safe and being raised with love. Petunia knows that’s all Lily would have wanted for her son.

And perhaps Lily did not plan for Petunia to raise Harry or for Petunia to ever be part of Harry’s life in any way – and Petunia regrets again that she’d cut Lily out of her own life so harshly – but she’ll do better by Harry.  Petunia will stand for her sister and protect Harry right alongside Sirius.

I’ll watch over him, Lily, Petunia promises fiercely. I’ll watch over him as I should have watched over you as your big sister.  

There’s a faint stir in the air around her, the scent of lilies envelopes her warmly for a brief second before fading away so quickly, Petunia wonders if she has imagined it.

Lily.

Her hand strays to her abdomen and lies over where her unborn baby rests.

No, Petunia thinks as she watches Sirius refill the kettle with a tap of his wand, her past self could never have guessed at the very unordinary life she leads, but Petunia is very satisfied not to be normal after all.

fin.

Next story: A Promise to be Up to No Good

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