The Beginning

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PROLOGUE TWO
For A Sister
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Petunia had been having a good day until her husband mentioned her sister. Dudley had been behaving fairly well after his morning tantrum. One of her friends had stopped by to chat. But then Vernon had dropped her sister into the conversation. Petunia knew that it was no coincidence so many strange sightings were being reported the same day Vernon happened to bring up Lily. He knew thinking about Lily upset her.

Unable to sleep when her mind was full of traitorous thoughts, Petunia quietly slid out of her bed to get some tea. The problem was largely that she missed her little sister. The moment Lily had been born Petunia had spoiled her endlessly, proclaiming herself as the little redhead's protector. And Petunia was happy for her sister when it appeared that she had a part in her own fairy tale. But that did not stop the jealousy. Every girl wants to know they are a princess, that they are special. No matter how Petunia loved Lily, jealousy can corrupt most anything. And jealousy steadily turned to hate, of everything special and magical that she could not have.

And still Petunia missed Lily. Lily, with her fairy tale, a prince and an assuredly beautiful baby; Lily, who was still her baby sister. But Petunia could not talk to Lily, could not visit her. She had married a man that actively hated anything not normal.

Petunia warmed her hands around her mug, hunching over it and breathing the pleasant scent of chamomile. There were some things she could not do, and she had accepted that a long time ago. She just wished Vernon had not brought it up. The steam warmed and then cooled her face, the heat of the liquid pooled in her throat, chest, and stomach. It made her eyelids droop drowsily, exactly as she had intended. Petunia finished the last of the tea and stood to put her mug in the sink for the morning. She took a deep breath and turned to head upstairs.

And then all of the lights went out.

Petunia had been using the lights spilling in from the street rather than turning on the bright kitchen lights, and without them, it was pitch black. Her eyes widened in an attempt to see more, but that did not help. There had to be an explanation, Petunia tried to reason to herself, but she knew there would not be one that she liked. One or two street lights was understandable. But the bulbs would not just all go out at the same time. With all of the previous signs there, it had to be magic.

Ironically, her immediate thoughts flew to Lily as she peered out of her kitchen window for the witch of wizard that had turned off the lights. Unfortunately, no matter how she craned her long neck that had served her well in such efforts so many times before, her eyes would not adjust to the darkness enough to see anything. Petunia could still hear, however.

Faint outlines stood close together; whispers carried across the silent wind to Petunia's ears. "Albus, is it true?"

"Unfortunately so, my dear."

"But the wards . . . James and Lily were under a Fidelius!" The more feminine voice rose and fell, full of emotion while the other spoke simply of regret.

"They were betrayed."

"By Sirius? He would never betray James, or his godson."

"We cannot know for sure until Sirius, Peter, and Remus are found."

"And the boy?"

"He must stay with his family, under the protection of blood wards."

"Albus, these are the worst kind of muggles! He could very well face evil inside the wards, trapped as James and Lily were." The woman's voice broke on the last phrase. Petunia herself had to hold back a wrenching sob that had rose against her will at the mere thought of her Lily—

"Minerva, it is far better he faces the common trials in life than Death Eaters trained to kill."

The two voices were stopped by the loud grumbling of a motor in need of a good mechanic. Petunia jumped at the sudden noise. After a few clicks, it died away and a third voice was added to the conversation. "I've got 'im, Professors." Petunia suspected she knew who these people were in a general sense with that new tidbit of information. "James— and Lily—" the gruffer voice took gulping breaths between words; "The're jus' lyin' there— an' 'Arry— 'e was jus' sittin' there— bawlin' 'is eyes out— 'cus 'is mum is jus' lyin' on the ground—" The voice cut itself off in a pitiful sob. Petunia bowed her head, letting her golden locks form a curtain around her face. Lily can't be dead, she thought desperately. She was supposed to live, always sending letters I can never answer. Petunia thought her heart might be breaking.

"Rubeus, I am just as distraught as you are, I assure you, but you will wake the muggles if you carry on!" The woman's voice broke several times throughout her speech.

"We must leave quickly. Rubeus, the boy," the first man's voice gently ordered after a moment to let the other two gather themselves. With another sniffle, the other seemed to have complied. Footsteps quietly echoed down the street, stopped, then sounded once more. Petunia took little notice, her head too full of thoughts of Lily. Not even the sound of the aged motor could jar her, nor the sudden seeming brilliance of the street lights. Indeed, Petunia sat there at the kitchen table for hours, only getting up numbly when she was alerted to the milkman fumbling by the front door. Still dressed in her bath robe and underclothes, Petunia almost staggered to the door and slowly pulled it open.

Most of the entire road heard her scream.

The little child sprawled across her doorstep blinked Lily's green eyes, awakened by the shrill sound. "Tuney?" the babe gurgled in question. Petunia clapped her hands over her mouth, then just as quickly picked the toddler up from under the armpits. She hurriedly carried her nephew—for who else could it be?—to Dudley's nursery, where the nappies were kept. Dudley whined and demanded to be picked up, but for once Petunia ignored him in favor of something else. To be left outside all night while injured— Harry could have died! Petunia checked the babe's warm forehead and clucked her tongue in worry. She decided to quickly change his nappy and then find some baby Tylenol. It took all of her willpower not to scream again when it became apparent that her nephew was not at all a boy.

Petunia knew for a very certain fact that Harry Potter was a boy. Lily sent letters every week despite her own lack of response, and her little sister was over the moon with her baby boy. Lily would not have just lied about something as insignificant as gender—unless there was a deeper reason. Petunia knew some people were still very prejudiced about women, and she had often heard small complaints from Lily about the backwardness of magical society. Could it be possible, she wondered, that Lily was trying to protect Harry from something he—she, really—could not resist as a female? The thoughts whirled and buzzed through her head, and Dudley in the background began loudly crying. In front of her, Harry was just curious, with Lily's expressive eyes observing everything. It took only a second longer for Petunia to decide that she would keep up the charade, if only for her sister's memory.

Petunia finished changing Harry's nappy and then moved on to Dudley's. She hugged her baby tightly with a sense of over-protection born from the innocent orphan in front of her, and Dudley was quick to express his displeasure. For Lily.

[Boom, y'all! One week after the first update and here I am. I'm going to try to update every Sunday so hold me to it!]

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