An owl had perched itself outside Vernon’s den. Snuggled up on the couch and watching a horror film, the couple JUMPED at the sound...and then were both overcome with the giggles.

“Oh dear! That was frightening--” Petunia covered her mouth as she laughed.

“Yeah--considering what’s--” and he gestured at the movie, where something gory and disgusting had just happened, accompanied with intense surprise music.

“I don’t really like owls.”

“Why not?” Vernon asked, stroking her hair behind her ear.

“They...remind me of my sister.” Seeing his look, she clarified with a lie. “I just mean...she loves owls.”

78. Author's Choice: Dementors - Age 39

Dementors had attacked Dudders. Petunia knew Harry hadn’t done anything, but there was no point in arguing with his husband. She merely sat at his bedside, holding his hand as he slept very un-soundly. He was feverish, and she couldn’t seem to stifle her worry.

He mumbled softly in his slumber, clinging to Petunia’s hand like a stuffed toy. “My poor Dudders,” she whispered, stroking his hair from his forehead.

His eyes flickered open. “H-Harry saved me.”

The whisper made the hair on Petunia’s arms stand up. Vernon was sound asleep….

“I know, Dudders. Shhhh, shh. Go back to sleep.”

Dudley, tired of homework and hungry, slammed his book shut and slid off the chair in the kitchen.

Harry squinted at his own notebook, doing his best to do the math by himself.

Petunia began to make dinner, doing her best to ignore Harry’s lingering in the kitchen. Dudley was playing in the front yard...and honestly, if it kept Harry from playing with Dudley, let him take all night with his damn homework.

After about half an hour, Petunia sighed. “What is three...sets of five, Harry? Count it out, boy.” Her voice was rough, but her eyes soft.

“I’m gonna’ put a SPELL ON YOU!” Tunia cackled as she blew out the candle. Lily screamed as she dove under the bed..

Mrs. Evans rushed into the room. “What’s going on in here? You two should be asleep--Tunia! Is that a candle?”

Lily peeked out. “...Mumma...Tunia said...she’s a witch...and she’d put a SPELL on me…” she wibbled.

“Oh dear...come on--witches aren’t real, dear...you know that. It’s all just make believe...all right?” She pulled Lily out from the bed and pulled her into her lap. “It’s time for sleep, BOTH of you.”

96. Socks - Age 31

Christmas day was a day of joy and happiness for Dudley Dursley and his parents. Presents, wrapped in gloriously gold colored wrapping paper, were torn open by the seven year old. Under the tree was littered with them.

Harry waited patiently and without saying a word. There was one present under the tree for him wrapped in newspaper. His name was scrawled across the top, and finally, Petunia handed him the present. “Open it and go to your room, Harry,” she said curtly.

The boy slowly unwrapped it, and inside the plain box were a pair of simple, green socks.

Lily would be writing home for the textbook any day now. For the time being, Petunia would read as much of it as she could. Slipping the book out of her sister’s trunk had been worth it from what she was reading.

Transfiguration seemed like the best subject those magic people had to offer, and Petunia would do everything in her power to go to that school. So what? She wasn’t magical? She could observe! Plus, how many of those weirdos could actually DO magic? Petunia was positive she would have no trouble fitting in.

She would be with Lily.

Snappish the Snapping Turtle bit Dudley on the nose one Friday evening. Snappish belonged to Dudley’s friend, Carl, and the boys were supposed to have a playdate together. They were four.

When Petunia arrived home with Dudley’s nose beet red from the bite, Harry couldn’t stifle his laughter quickly enough. Petunia growled and grabbed him by his ear.

“Don’t you dare laugh at Dudders! He’s in pain! How very rude of you, Harry! Go to your cupboard!” She locked him in there for the evening. Dabbing at her son’s nose, she wondered if she could have that aggressive turtle killed.

She could hear Lily crying in her bedroom. Tunia had not yet moved off to Uni, and while she was busy packing and ignoring her sister lately, she couldn’t help but feel her heart sink.

“Lily?”

“Go away, Tunia--” Lily threw a pillow at Petunia, who stood in the doorway.

“What’s wrong?”

“NOTHING IS WRONG!” Lily buried her face in her pillow. Petunia moved to sit on the edge of her sister’s bed.

“You’re crying...it can’t be nothing.”

“I’m not a PUREBLOOD! That’s what’s wrong-” Lily sniffled, refusing to uncover her face. Petunia had no idea what that meant.

“I refuse, mother. I refuse to be in the same room as that man,” she hissed into the telephone.

“Petunia, dear, I want a portrait of my daughters...and their husbands...with me and your father. You’re coming! No if’s, and’s, or but’s!”

Petunia muttered something about a butt, for sure, but luckily Mrs. Evans hadn’t heard her.

“So tomorrow at 1! Wear your best!”

“Mum, I always wear my best. You better make sure James Potter knows not to wear a bloody dress. Those freaks like their dresses.” Petunia then hung up with a click. The freaks and their dresses!

The picture of his firstborn was cast aside when Petunia first received it, but after going through the motions of her day, she found herself peering at the picture once more.

Same messy, jet-black hair. “It never stayed for anything,” she mumbled to herself.

“What’s that, honey?”

“Our nephew’s hair. It was deplorable, don’t you remember?” she asked in a disgusted tone. “Their baby, dear. He has the messy hair.” Petunia got a grunt in response.

The picture was placed on their fridge, next to the pictures of Dudley’s only child, a girl. It was all the past, after all.

In the middle of December, the Evans sisters huddled in Lily’s room burrito’d in blankets.

“I would love to be WARM,” whined Tunia.

Lily nodded. “Waaaaarm!”

“A FIRE WOULD BE AWESOME. We could roast marshmallows…”

“A FIRE!”

And suddenly, in the middle of Lily’s room, there was a fire. A small, manageable campfire-sized fire.

“AAAHHHHH!” they screamed. Mrs. Evans ran into the room, swinging the door open forcefully. “DO YOU GIRLS HAVE A CANDLE IN HERE AGAIN?”

“No, Mummaaaaa! It just appeared!”

She poured her glass of water on the fire, extinguishing it with a ssssssstttt, muttering under her breath.

Petunia reread Lily’s letter once more, focusing on the very last part with her eyebrows furrowed.

‘Professor Slughorn says I am the best potions student he has ever had...besides a student he had very long ago. I think it made Severus very angry…’

And Petunia wished she could have understood, completely, what this meant. She flipped through her notebook she had started a while ago covering all of the magical topics she knew she wouldn’t get the hang of otherwise. Potions seemed a lot of muggle cooking to her.

She began her response. “Forget Severus. You’re a great witch…”

What an obdurate child! Petunia could not get Dudley to sleep! She gave him a bottle, a diaper change--nothing! She rocked him, she cooed at him, she played soft music! The stubborn, chubby child would not sleep, and Tunia had circles under her eyes as she tried to settle the crying.

But the infant was stubborn like his father, and Petunia was about to despair when Vernon appeared in the doorway.

“Need help?” the normally grumpy man yawned and held out his arms. Petunia smiled gratefully.

“Good luck, dear,” she said as she handed him Dudders. She needed a nap!

“It’s a pensieve, Aunt Petunia,” Harry said gently. He sat it down gingerly. “Happy birthday...I thought you’d….like this.”

“Well what is it?” she snapped. Vernon was out, and Dudders hadn’t come by yet.

“It’s memories…...of my mum.”

Petunia glared at him. “How dare you bring this to me--how dare you--”

“Aunt Petunia…” Harry’s voice was soft. “I didn’t think you’d look at them today. But...they’re there. For when you’re ready. Have a good day.” He stood up and gave her a press of his lips to her cheek.

Petunia hid the pensieve before Vernon came home.

Tunia had stolen the very last donut in the box, and she quickly hopped over a pile of toys in the living room before racing to her room. She tried to slam her door shut when Lily POUNCED onto her, and they both tumbled to the ground. The donut slipped from Tunia’s hand and rolled out of her grasp.

GASP.

Both girls looked at each other, then the donut, and Lily snatched it up before Tunia could.

The chase continued until Mrs. Evans ran into the girls trying to get around the kitchen table.

The donut was then thrown away.

Petunia felt discombobulated after she returned from the depths of the strange contraption...what had Harry called it?

There was an uncomfortable pause as her nephew folded his arms, his green eyes looking anywhere but at her. “I...I don’t know what to say,” she whispered.

“That’s all he left for me.”

Petunia nodded silently.

There was another moment of serious contemplation, but then Petunia said, “Why did you show me this?”

“Because you’re the only other person who I think would...understand…”

She stepped closer to her nephew and put a hand, a gentle touch, on his shoulder. “Yes.”

Tunia swatted at the fly currently pestering her while she tried to eat. A ham and cheese sandwich, perfect! Her mother made the best. Lily nibbled hers, too, but had been particularly recalcitrant and dug into her crisps before her sandwhich. The fly BUZZZZZED around their heads.

Tunia, loud, said, “GO AWAY!”

Lily then swatted and missed. “I don’t like flies.” She put one hand on her hip, sassy, and pointed the other at the fly. Suddenly, a ZAP noise occured, and the fly fell to the table, dead.

Tunia looked at Lily’s finger, then to her face. Lily squeaked.