On December Something

The Turning Point

The Dursley House
Harry's Fourth Year

Petunia couldn't figure it out. Harry had been happy and why shouldn't he have been? It had been his birthday. Petunia had Remus tell Sirius what kind of cake was Harry's favorite so that he was sure to send him one. She knew he would. That was his style.

Vernon had been irritated but why shouldn't he have been? He was having to suffer with the rest of the house on a diet and usually when Harry was happy it meant that Vernon was miserable. He had also found out at the beginning of the summer that Sirius, his least favorite person in the world, was back and was Harry's godfather. This mix of emotion drove Petunia to chew on her tongue and bite back anything that could potentially give away her stance.

Petunia was cleaning one afternoon before Harry left for school and found a letter to Sirius from Harry stuffed in the side of his mattress. She hadn't meant to snoop but she couldn't help it. He had been thanking Sirius for the offer to stay with him and that when he's old enough he would definitely take him up on the offer. It didn't make her mad but she was a little irritated with the offer. Sirius knew why he couldn't do that. Harry would be running for his life more so than he already is.

Telling Harry anything now would just confuse him. It seemed like the rest of his life he was meant to live in the shadows. That bothered her more than the fact that her rose bushes were dying from the sweltering heat that felt like London's hottest.

I hope he remembers to keep the letters secret.

Petunia often worried about whether Sirius would spill the beans or remember, like most things in Harry's world, that it was all to be kept secret. She hadn't received any kind of letter from him but she hadn't expected him to write. He was still in danger and she was fine talking to him through Remus.

She thought back to her roses. This was where she was. Safe in her garden. Dudley had been sent off to school with the fear of a constant swollen tongue and Vernon was off at work with a nasty attitude as always. She sulked in front of her dead bushes while cutting the dead limbs and trying to avoid the thorns. She was so angry that she could cry. All she wanted was for these bushes to thrive. She had managed to keep them going for years and she never imagined the lengths she would have to go through to keep them alive.

In a weird way they reminded her of Harry. He was the rose bush and she was the caretaker. Granted, she didn't have to lie to her flowers to keep them flourishing but they looked miserable in her garden. She peered around and noticed that most of her flowers were dying. There was something else she noticed. The black dog.

He came every night and day around the same time. He looked famished, a little ragged, and tired. He was still happy to see her but the pitiful look on Petunia's face made him whimper as he got closer.

"They're all dying," she sighed, exasperated.

She tossed the dead limbs to the side and plopped on her bottom in the dry, dusty dirt. She begged the sky for rain that never fell. The dog came up and lay next to her legs as she paused there in the heat. The sun was beating on her back but she didn't care. After wiping the sweat and dirt from her brow she leaned into the dog who seemed to hold her up.

"I wish I could let you in," she whispered, "you must be thirsty."

She stood to run the spicket and filled his hidden bowl next to her shed. She patted the ground for him to trot over and he did willingly, lapping up the cool water before laying by her feet once more. He just stared at her.

Those eyes. There was something about them that reminded her of Sirius. Dark and brooding Sirius. They were some of the things she loved about him. She missed him. She knew that much.