Taking care of myself

Prologue

All materials below are the property of the great and power J.K. Rowling and related companies. They aren't my toys, I just like to play with them.

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Petunia Dursley strived to be normal. She, for the most part, did what was expected of a young house wife of Surrey, England. She doted on her son and husband, kept a lovely garden, a lovely house and was admired all over the neighborhood for taking in her ragamuffin of a nephew. Never mind that said nephew did at least half of the work around the garden and the house and that he never had enough to eat and slept in the cupboard. Yes, Petunia Dursley was perfectly normal, thank you very much. It was a nice, clear, normal day. She had already observed one of her neighbors having an argument with his wife and had called half the neighborhood to tell them and complain how fickle some people were these days. She had just sat down to watch her afternoon dramas when, suddenly, she heard a knock at the door. That was unexpected. Who in the world could that be? She hurriedly tapped on the cupboard door signaling the sniffling child inside to be quiet. Little fool was claiming he was afraid of the dark. Then she opened the door with a flourish and a smile which immediately froze on her face.

Hard, cold, emerald eyes stared back at her. "Where is he?"