Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter 4 - The Dursleys

"Loneliness and the feeling of being unwanted is the most terrible poverty."

Petunia Dursley loved the life she had; she loved the home she lived in, she loved the social standing she had in the community amongst the housewives, and she loved her family. Her lovely husband, Vernon, provided quite nicely and their son was an absolute angel. He was already attending Smeltings, and Petunia had a feeling he'd grow up to be just as successful as his father. Just as she put the finishing touches on the pudding, the door opened and closed. Petunia smiled widely and rushed to the door.

"Vernon, darling, you're home!" she cried, placing a kiss on his lips. She helped him out of his business jacket and grabbed his briefcase.

There were many words that described Vernon Dursley, and handsome wasn't one of them. He was a big and beefy man with a moustache and beady eyes. His personality left more to be desired than his appearances, being a very greedy and selfish man. Petunia, of course, saw none of that. Vernon would always be the polite, misunderstood man that only she had the privilege to see.

Ever since they first started dating, Vernon had been the perfect gentleman. He held open the door for her, complimented her, and asked her how her day went. Even after marriage, he was everything she'd imagined in a husband; an excellent provider, wonderful father, and overall hard-working individual.

She regretted her parents dying before they could meet him.

"How was your day, Pet?" he questioned, smiling at his doting wife. "My, something smells divine."

"Vernon, we have new neighbors!" Petunia squealed excitedly, walking into the kitchen with Vernon following her. "I've made a pudding to welcome them to the neighborhood."

"Excellent idea, Pet."

"They sound positively delightful," Petunia continued, smiling as she decorated the pudding with sugared violets. "Their surname is Bennet, and from what I've heard, the wife, Angela I believe her name is, writes books. Robert, the husband, is a lawyer. They look middle-aged, but they don't have any children yet!"

"Really?" Vernon murmured as he stroked his moustache.

Petunia gossiped, "And, from what Mrs. Kirtland told me, they're both rather attractive. I'm going to invite them over for dinner and see what they're all about." Petunia paused, frowning slightly. "Mrs. Arkwright in Number Seven spoke with her already. The Bennets, apparently, can't have any children."

"What a shame." Vernon didn't sound sympathetic in the least.

"Finished," Petunia said proudly, admiring her work.

"Looks delicious, dear," Vernon said, licking his lips greedily. "Perhaps I should taste it to see…"

"Vernon!" Petunia laughed a little, smacking his arm gently. "I wouldn't want you to spoil your appetite, darling. The roast potatoes are already in the oven, and I've made your favorite lamb roast earlier."

"You always look after me, Pet," he whispered in her ear, delighting in her shiver. "I don't know what I'd do without you." He wrapped his thick arms around her and Petunia sighed contentedly, leaning into his embrace. She closed her eyes and Vernon used that opportunity to dig his finger into the bottom corner. He hurriedly stuffed the bit of pudding into his mouth and sighed in bliss. His wife was a true whiz in the kitchen, if he did say so himself.

A knock on their door interrupted their moment. Petunia frowned and glanced at the time. "Were you expecting anyone, darling?"

Vernon scowled. "No," he said thoughtfully, an obviously seldom used expression on his face.

He straightened his tie and smoothed any wrinkles from his shirt before opening the door, just in case it turned out to be a prominent businessman. Instead, he came face to face with an elderly man in a revolting purple suit. Despite the color, however, the suit was obviously made of fine material, and the twinkle in the man's blue eyes reminded Vernon of the difficult Japanese businessman he'd encountered earlier that day-calculating, and slightly wicked. Vernon got the impression that the man before him was one of power, and while not boastful about it, definitely not afraid to use it.

It was a look he'd seen in many a confident potential business client and Vernon had plenty of practice when it came to manipulating things to go his way.

"Mister Dursley, I presume?" the man asked after a few moments of a somewhat awkward silence.

Vernon realized he'd been sizing the man up for an entire minute, and promptly stuck out his hand to cover up the awkward moment. "How do you do?" he asked greasily. "Yes, I'm Vernon Dursley. May I ask who you are?"

"Oh, how rude of me," the old man said lightly. "I am Professor Albus Dumbledore. I'm the Headmaster at Mister Potter's school."

Immediately, all evidence of his kind disposition vanished. Vernon adopted a half-panicked, half-disgusted expression. "We don't know about any Potter!" he barked. "Don't com e here ever again!"

He made to slam the door, but Albus was stronger than he let on. Vernon barely suppressed a shiver as the blue eyes, twinkling jovially only moments, frosted over and glared at him. "Mister Dursley," Albus said calmly, "I have come here to discuss something of great importance with you and your wife regarding Mister Potter. Let me in-now."

Grimacing slightly as some of their neighbors nosily stared at them, Vernon allowed Dumbledore to step inside. "Don't let the neighbors see you," he grumbled under his breath.

"Who was it Vernon?" Petunia asked. She gasped as she saw Albus. "You!"

While she'd never seen Albus Dumbledore in the flesh before, she remembered Lily bringing home photos of her freak school. Among them had been the Headmaster, and Petunia was slightly surprised the elderly man hadn't retired or croaked yet. Her face twisted into a sneer at the thought of the freak school, or the freak boy that had finally left her lovely abode.

Petunia long accepted that her nephew, loathed she was to admit the relation, would never be normal. She'd hoped that she and Vernon's strict rules would curb the freakishness he'd been born with, but to no avail. He was just like her sister, making things happen unnaturally. She loathed it.

Albus smiled thinly at her. "Good evening, Missus Dursley. I'm-"

"I know who you are," Petunia interrupted harshly. "You're the-the Headmaster of that freak school! If the boy's done anything, he's your problem now!"

Albus was silent for a few moments, shocked and appalled. Freak school? Reigning in his anger, he looked at her shrewdly over his half-moon glasses and said, "Because you are his legal guardian, I am obligated to discuss matters of great importance with you."

Vernon found his courage once more and sneered. "We don't care what happens to the little freak! Good riddance, I say. We never wanted him and-" He fell silent at Albus's furious glare.

"Freak?" Albus narrowed his eyes at the now quivering mass. "Mister Potter is your nephew, and you dare utter such an appalling word? I daresay Mister Potter is one of our most promising wizards and I'll not have you besmirch him in such a manner!"

Petunia flinched at the furious tone. "Why are you here?" she asked, glancing desperately at the clock. "I have a previous engagement that really can't be rescheduled and-"

"And is that engagement," Albus interrupted, "more important than your nephew's life?"

Petunia shrunk back and kept quiet. Vernon moved in front of her in an obvious attempt to protect her from the enraged wizard's eerie stare. "So what happened with the fr-boy?"

Greatly disturbed at the word, Albus chose to ignore it for the time being. His stomach twisted uncomfortably, and not for the first time in many years did he wonder if leaving Harry here was a mistake. He chose to deliver the news of Harry's bond bluntly, using little words and enunciating at points as he was sure Mister Dursley would have a bit of a tough time understanding him. If Vernon's rapidly purpling face was any indication, Albus felt he maybe should have used even smaller words.

"And as a result, Mister Potter and Miss Granger must remain in contact physically until the bond stabilizes. However, this type of bond is so rare, we don't know how long it would take for that to occur," Albus finished. "I'll be dropping Mister Potter and Miss Granger here tomorrow so you may speak with him if you wish."

"Hold on!" Vernon snapped. "Having one fre-the boy-here is bad enough. We will not put up with another one of your kind!"

Albus's nostrils flared, and he felt his wand warm up in retaliation. He'd had enough of the Dursleys' snide remarks and general unpleasantness. "Never in my life," he whispered dangerously, "have I ever had the displeasure of meeting anyone so unpleasant."

Vernon bristled and was in Albus's face before he had time to process what exactly he was doing. His fat, sausage-like finger poked Albus in the chest many times as he spat out, "Now see here, Mister Dumbdor, the only one unpleasant is your kind! You leave a child on our doorstep with only a note, and don't bother to see if we even want the little bastard! Then we get stuck with him for ten years and have to spend on him what we'd rather use to take our own son out on trips that he deserves. Don't you dare come to my house and condescend to me and my wife when we should have dumped him in an orphanage!

"Instead," Vernon continued to rage, "we took him in out of the goodness of our hearts, put clothes on his back, food in his mouth, and did our best to-to-to stamp the freak out of him! And what did we get for our efforts? Our house was bombarded with your blasted letters, we received no compensation for caring for him, and our son was c-c-cursed with a pig's tail! Oh, no! Enough is enough! The little freak has been more trouble than he's worth! We'll not have him here anymore! Get out!"

Albus stood slowly, magic rolling off him in waves as his anger grew. He stared Vernon in the eyes, slightly amused when Vernon paled and recoiled. Oh, it was much too late for that. A bit of wandless Legilimency revealed how the Dursleys felt about Harry, and never before had Albus felt more sickened. This was the house he left Harry at. This was the last family of Harry's. This…this was a travesty. Petunia and Vernon Dursley weren't fit to raise a potato, let alone children.

What was he thinking? He should have checked. He should have listened to Minerva. Albus wanted to curse the pitiful Muggles in front of him, treat them how they treated the brave little boy that risked his life to save his friend from a troll. It was that thought that brought him back to reality, and Albus suddenly had a better understanding of why his father had been so willing to go to Azkaban after what he did to those Muggle boys.

And though he tried his hardest to forget his previous mindset about Muggles, the Dursleys were the type of people that would make him remember.

Albus stared at the cowering adults, and briefly contemplated his choices. The moment they accepted Harry into the house, it had sealed the blood wards surrounding the property. The environment wasn't what he wished, and was in fact much worse than even Arabella had suspected. What had he condemned little Harry to?

A peek into Vernon and Petunia's minds gave him his answer, and he wanted to throw up. Harry, young and unsure of what he could have possibly done wrong, was treated little better than a house elf. He was fed the bare minimum, clothed the bare minimum, and treated the bare minimum. It was a pathetic excuse of a life, and Albus was the cause of it all.

Paying attention to the Dursleys once more, he cleared his throat and ignored the way Vernon flinched. "You are very lucky I don't consider your finger upon my person much of a threat," he said nonchalantly. He turned to Petunia. "If the situation was reversed, Lily would have never treated your son like this. He would have been part of the family, and he would have known how much you loved him."

Petunia looked like she was slapped, and for a brief moment Albus saw a hint of remorse in her eyes. "You never asked us," she said shakily. "I had a falling out with my sister long before her son was born, and had you asked, we would have told you to place him elsewhere. We received no monies to help take care of him, and-"

She was only repeating what her husband said, and it drove Albus over the edge momentarily. "You dare ask for money to take care of him," he raged, "when you starved him, gave him clothes five times his size, and locked him in a cupboard under the stairs?"

Vernon spoke up, defending his wife and his honor. "If we had money to take care of him-" He never got to finish his statement.

Albus momentarily lost his composure. "THIS HOUSE BELONGS TO HIM!" He stood up and glared furiously at Lily's sister.

Petunia looked shocked. "No, this house…this house belonged to my parents!"

"Lily's husband James purchased this house in her name," Albus spat, "and if you read her letter, you would know that! You dare complain about what a hardship it has cost you to take care of your nephew, your own blood, when your compensation was this house! The amount of money it would have cost you to pay monthly rent for this house was enough to take care of Lily's son until after his years at Hogwarts, and then come to a decision with your nephew regarding the ownership.

"But it wouldn't have mattered to you whether or not you received money for him," he continued to rage. "I have no doubt any money received for his care would have gone to spoiling your own son. I confess, I find myself having a hard time believing you are related to Lily!"

Petunia seemed stunned for a moment before she swelled with anger. "Lily always was the perfect one," she spat bitterly. "Always so kind, so beautiful, so amazing; it was sickening! Everyone seemed to gravitate towards her, and most didn't know she was a fr-freak! What she did, what your kind does, it's unnatural! And do you know what it cost her? Her life! If she had just listened to me and rejected her freakishness, she'd be alive now with a normal husband and a normal son! She could've done anything, and you tarnished her."

Albus stared at the woman dispassionately as a few tears escaped her eyes. "I fail to see how that's your nephew's fault," he said almost coldly, an image of Petunia roughly grabbing Harry and chucking him into the cupboard under the stairs very fresh in his mind.

Petunia glared at him. "You put in your letter that she died for him. She died for that little freak and you expect me and my husband to take care of him? If he hadn't been born, Lily would still be alive. If you hadn't sent your blasted letter, she could have been normal and happy!"

Albus stared at her for a moment before sighing and shaking his head. "Mister Potter is your nephew," he said, staring into her eyes. "A nephew whom you neglected and mistreated. You abused your late sister's only son-told him his parents were drunks, he was a freak, and did everything possible to stunt his growth. From what I've seen, I'm amazed at his good character. One would never guess he had misfit guardians." He paused for a moment. "I guess he inherited more from his mother than just her eyes."

Petunia flinched almost violently at that, remembering those beautiful emerald eyes that Lily had. Staring into her son and seeing her eyes had been a major blow that November morning when Vernon brought the child inside. She stared into those eyes, and she knew deep inside her that her sister was gone. It hurt Petunia more than she'd ever cared to admit, because though she was estranged from her sister, she had still loved her.

"He didn't just lose his mother that night," Petunia said quietly, almost choking as tears came to her eyes. "I lost a sister."

Albus cocked an eyebrow. "What an interesting way to show it," he said softly. "Tell me, Petunia, if Lily were here right now and saw how awfully you treated her son, what would she do? What would she say?"

Petunia glared at him and shook her head. "It's not fair of you to ask me that!" she hissed. "You left him on my doorstep in the middle of the night and never asked if I wanted to look after him. How could you expect me to just take him in, raise him as my family, when he's so abnormal? How could you expect me to look at him every day and not feel sickened that he lived while she died? You have no right to ask me any of that!"

Albus stood and brushed his suit. "Perhaps not," he admitted. "After all, I am merely the Headmaster of her old school where her son happens to attend right now. However, I will tell you this." His eyes hardened into deadly crystals. "You have mistreated a little boy now in my care for the next three-quarters of the year. You never made any effort to include him in your family, and that little boy grew up alone and unloved. That is simply unforgivable. I'd start counting down the days, if I were you. Because, and trust me when I tell you this, everything he's suffered in this house will be brought into the light, and he will have justice."

Vernon and Petunia paled considerably. "B-But," Petunia stuttered, wiping away her tears.

"This conversation is over," Albus interrupted swiftly. "I've done my duty and informed you what exactly occurred with your nephew; there is nothing else to speak of." He turned to leave but paused for a moment. Brandishing his wand, and ignoring the startled and frightened shrieks that erupted from the Dursleys' mouths, he muttered a quick summoning charm. An envelope came flying from somewhere upstairs, and Dumbledore led it to the coffee table with a flick of his wrist. "You might want to read that," he added as he finally made his way out the house.

A few minutes later, the sound of a car backfiring made the Dursleys jump. Petunia shakily reached out for the envelope and stared at the delicate, feminine scrawl on the front. Petunia, it read. She had found it all those years ago, tucked safely inside the blanket that had been wrapped around her nephew. It was Lily's penmanship, another perfect thing that Petunia had scorned, and obviously intended for her. Something stopped her from reading it. With shaky hands, Petunia had hid the envelope in her bedside drawer and left it untouched for ten years. It was now yellow with age, and slightly dusty.

Her throat tightened and her hands shook. She was terrified for some reason of what was in the envelope, but she knew-somehow-that it was time to read it. Taking in a deep, shaky breath, Petunia opened it and pulled out the letter. She squeezed her eyes shut, not realizing that she had whimpered until her husband sat beside her and rubbed her back soothingly.

Some of her courage regained, Petunia opened the letter and began to read.

Dear Petunia,

I know I have no right to ask you of this, since I know how you feel about magic, but I fear you are my only hope. The war in my world is only worsening by the day. People are disappearing and dying, and there may come a time where my husband and I will be targeted. We're in hiding, currently, with only my close friends knowing my location. Still, not every security plan is foolproof.

Firstly, I want to apologize. I should never have read Professor Dumbledore's reply to your letter. I should have tried harder to keep in touch with you. I should have done a lot of things in regards to our relationship. I'm so sorry things have deteriorated to the point where you can't stand to be in the same room as me.

Despite it all, however, you are my sister, and I love you dearly. I know you felt like I'd chosen a new world and Snape over you, and I guess in a way I did, but please try to understand that I never would have belonged in the Muggle world anymore. I was born with magic, and I'm so very happy that I was accepted into Hogwarts. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive my selfish decision.

And secondly, I need you to know why my son is being delivered to you. As I said earlier, I tried very hard to respect your wishes in regards to my gift. However, in my will, if the people James and I chose are unable to take care of my son, I would like for him to be placed with you.

Given our past issues, I know it's a lot to ask. You hate magic, and you probably want nothing to do with it. But please, I beg you, take care of my son. He means the world to me, and I'm so sorry he was born into such hard times. He deserves to grow up with me and James, learning magic and playing pranks. But given James' family's affiliations as well as my Muggleborn status, such an occurrence most likely won't come true.

And even if he can't grow up with his father and myself, I had hoped at the very least that his godfather Sirius Black would be able to look after him. He's a lot like James, though that's not always a good thing. It's partly why we switched from him to Peter in regards to our Secret Keeper (head of security person). Sirius can be a major prankster, but with Harry, he knows when to behave like a man and do what's best for my little boy.

But I digress. If you have custody of Harry now, that means he, and the list of people, were unable to care for him. You are my only hope of my son growing up happily, knowing his heritage and understanding that his parents died trying to make the world a better place for him.

Please, Petunia, look after Harry. He's a little boy, innocent of the sins of his parents-of his mother.

You can live in the house rent-free as long as my baby is taken care of. You can keep it, if you want. Just take care of him, Petunia. Please.

Forever your sister,

Lily

Petunia squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her jaw tightly. Tears sprung to her eyes, but she pushed them back with a vengeance. Her heart ached terribly as her sister's last attempt at reconciliation hit her full force. Her beautiful, strong, proud sister begged her for forgiveness and to take care of her only son. At that moment, despite her misgivings about magic, Petunia felt so terribly ashamed.

"V-Vernon…" Petunia choked out.

Vernon, who had been reading over Petunia's shoulder, hushed her and held her in his arms. "Don't worry, Pet. I'll make everything better."

"She asked me to… But I didn't read the letter…" Petunia took in a shuddering gasp.

Vernon gently grabbed her chin and made her look at him. "Pet, just because a normal person develops abilities does not mean they should practice that abnormality," he said gently. "The sister you knew and loved was gone the moment she decided to accept her freakishness."

Petunia sniffed and nodded her head. "She could've done anything," Petunia repeated. "We… we were going to open our own law office together. We were going… to do so many things together… but she left me! She abandoned me for that creepy S-Snape boy. And now she's dead!"

Vernon rubbed her back. "That freak world has caused us much hardship," he murmured. "We had best stay away from the boy and all of this abnormality. As long as he is in that freak world, the boy is not welcome here!"

Petunia nodded and shakily dried her tears. "We should have never taken him in," she said miserably. "Lily should've listened to me and rejected her abnormality. Now she's dead and we're stuck with that awful boy. No more." She shook her head furiously. "He's no family of mine, and this is no longer his home."

Vernon smiled. "That's my girl," he whispered. "And, Petunia, about the house, as long as we have the deed and title, that old freak can't do anything to us."

Petunia sniffed and smiled. "Thank you, Vernon. You're so good to me," she said, sighing as she leant into his embrace.

Vernon kissed her on the forehead. "Now, let's get cleaned up, and go give that pudding to the new neighbors."

Petunia immediately perked up and began to prattle on about the Bennets. Vernon smiled and nodded in agreement to some of the things she said. As she left to wash her face, he grabbed Lily's letter, ripped it into little pieces, and tossed it into the trash. Unbeknownst to them, their house glowed a light, faint red as the blood wards dissolved into nothingness.

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