Chapter Text
Petunia Dursley liked to think she had the life she always wanted. Her husband, Vernon, had a nice, steady job at a drill company. They had a neat and flawless house at Number Four, Privet Drive, which looked exactly like every other house on the street save for the exact arrangement of the front garden. And, of course, she had her precious little son Dudley.
Yes. A nice, normal life. Just like she always dreamed of. Nothing strange or inexplicable about it. No hint that she had anything to do with... Them .
But deep in her mind, she couldn't just forget about her little sister. Lily was a stain on Petunia's elegant existence, and even if she covered it from everyone she knew it was there.
Things had been different, once. When they were very young she had actually been quite close to her sister. They were each other's confidant and best friend, sharing secrets and giggles while hiding under blankets in their room.
But then that boy showed up. Severus Snape. He had ugly, too big clothes and unkempt greasy hair. He started to watch them. Petunia noticed him first. The boy followed Lily around everywhere, a sick look of hunger on his face. She didn't even know a nine-year-old could look like that.
Around the same time, the Freakishness started. Petunia watched helplessly as her little sister started to relish in doing unnatural things. It wasn't so bad at first. Lily made flowers dance in her hand and her nails change color without any hint of polish.
It was scary for Petunia. Her sister seemed entrenched in her abilities. But then the Snape boy finally approached them. He announced that Lily was a witch, and he was a wizard. And that Petunia was nothing.
That was when she lost her little sister. Lily snuck out to see Snape, to listen to his stories of magic and wonder. She got lost in that new world, one which Petunia couldn't reach. Lily changed. She no longer talked to her older sister or giggled at her jokes. No, she went to Snape.
And the boy looked so triumphant at that. He clearly saw Lily as some sort of prize he had won. Petunia tried to talk to Lily, to share her distrust of the creepy kid, but that only made Lily mad.
Her words still stung Petunia's ears.
' You don't understand!' She had snapped. ' You're just jealous and want to keep me away from my only friend! Sev and I will be going off to school together, and I'm going to learn all kinds of spells. There are more like us out there!'
'Us.' Lily had said 'us' and Petunia's heart broke. Her sweet little sister, with fiery red hair and emerald green eyes, saw herself as part of a different world. One with creepy boys and unnatural ways. A world that had a school full of freaks like Snape.
A world that did not include Petunia.
And that was it. Her little sister had been lost to magic. She went off to freak school. She sent Petunia letters, at first. They came tied to an owl of all things. She read them all but never replied.
' Dear Petunia,' The first one had started.
' Hogwarts is wonderful! I got sorted into Gryffindor. There are four houses; Gryffindor (honor and bravery), Ravenclaw (intellect and knowledge), Hufflepuff (loyalty and hard work), and Slytherin (cunning and ambition).
Sev is in Slytherin. It's too bad we are different houses, but I like Gryffindor. I share a dorm with some other girls in first year. I think Alice and I will be very good friends.
The only problem is the boys in my house. Four of them are already close. James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. Remus isn't so bad, actually. He’s really smart. But Potter and Black are awful. They are horrible bullies. We've only been here a week and they already have detention! Professor McGonagall gave it to them because they hexed the Slytherins to get painful blisters every time they say 'mudblood' (it's a slur for people with muggle parents, like me). The magic is actually quite impressive, and mudblood really is an awful term, but this is far too mean.
Anyways, I have to get back to writing an essay on the uses of frog spawn in potions for Professor Slughorn.
Hope you are well,
Lily Evans'
The letter had made Petunia sick. And it only got worse from there. Lily casually wrote about students ending up in the hospital wing because of magic gone wrong or creature attacks, of how awful Potter was, and the insane things she was learning. In third year, Lily had gotten an acidic potion on her after Potter tried to prank Snape and ended up in the infirmary for a week. Petunia and her parents couldn't even visit! And then the culprit had the audacity to apologize and ask Lily out.
Petunia felt hopeful when Lily said she jinxed him for that. Maybe she wasn't completely consumed by the evils of magic yet.
But then Snape had to go and break her heart. He called her that slur and Lily was devastated. Petunia knew it. She knew Snape was nothing more than an obsessed creep. That summer Lily had been quite subdued. She said that Snape was friends with bad people, and practiced evil magic. She was depressed up till the day she got on the train for her last year at Hogwarts.
Petunia didn't get any letters that year. Her sister wrote their parents just often enough to assure them she was fine. That she was studying lots and planning to get a job with the Ministry of Magic (apparently wizards had their own government) when she graduated.
Petunia knew she could never bring Lily back. She had to let go of her sister. She chose the magical world. Petunia was busy with her own life and had to move on. Vernon proposed and they began to plan their life together. He didn't blame her for her freak sister, and agreed that magic could only bring evil.
But then Lily came home with her own fiance.
James freaking Potter. Lily married James Potter, the awful boy who had used magic to hurt people- as a joke . At first Petunia was sure he had cursed Lily in some way. Maybe a love potion? But no, Lily really did want to marry him.
And he was just as bad as Petunia expected. Out of obligation she had invited the freakish couple to her wedding. Black came too, and that was when the trouble started.
Vernon had been thanking everyone for attending after the reception, while Petunia let her friends fawn over her. And then her new husband was screaming. She ran over, to find Black and Potter laughing. Vernon's tuxedo had shrunken on him, to the point where he was struggling to breathe.
Oh, Lily had been upset at her fiance all right. She had fixed the suit and then dragged the nasty boys out of there. But it was done. Petunia and her had a screaming match.
Petunia disowned her sister. She told Lily, to her face, that she never wanted to speak again. They were through. No more freaks would ever intrude on her life again.
And they hadn't seen each other since. The only correspondence they exchanged was birth announcements for their respective babies. Petunia had sent hers a statement, that she had the life she always wanted and a beautiful little boy to boot.
A couple of months later Lily sent her own announcement. The birth of Herakles Lyra Potter. What sort of name was Herakles, anyway?! And for a girl no less. The picture showed a happy little baby with thick black hair and emerald eyes, moving about the photo like the freak it was.
Petunia had burned it in the fireplace.
It was more than a year since that had happened and she hadn't thought of it since. That is, until her husband came home from work one day and asked a question that froze her in her tracks.
"Er -- Petunia, dear -- you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"
She was shocked and a bit angry. They had an unspoken agreement to act as if she didn't have a sister, after all. "No," she snapped. "Why?"
Her husband glanced at the television and took a deep breath before mumbling "Funny stuff on the news. Owls... Shooting stars... And there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today..."
Petunia inhaled sharply. She knew where this was going, but she had to be sure. He couldn't really be implying what she thought he was, could he?
" So? " She spat out.
He had the decency to look slightly sheepish. "Well, I just thought... Maybe... It was something to do with... You know... Her crowd." He paused as she sipped her tea to calm her nerves. When he continued, his voice was slightly strangled like he was trying very hard to act nonchalant. "Their daughter -- she'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't she?"
Petunia tensed up. What did anything have to do with that little freak? And comparing her to Dudley... That was sickening. "I suppose so." She responded stiffly.
"What's her name again? Harriet, isn't it?"
He looked hopeful for some reason. Like his life depended on her confirming that yes, Potter's spawn was indeed called Harriet. But she wasn't, and Petunia suspected he knew that.
"Herakles. Ugly, strange name if you ask me. Exactly the sort of thing you would expect of their sort, of course." She watched as he paled with every word and narrowed her eyes. She wanted to just let it go, but... She couldn't. "Why?"
"Er..." He stammered. "No reason, dear. I'm sure the name is more common than it seems. It's from mythology, isn't it? Yes, I'm sure there are quite a few Herakles Potters out there." He sounded like he was trying to convince himself. Evidently, he was doing a very bad job.
She closed her eyes tight for a second before setting her tea down on an end table and sinking into an armchair. "Vernon," she said softly. "Did something happen today?"
For a moment he looked like he would deny it, but then he sighed and nodded his head in confirmation. "Like I said, there has been a lot of... Unpleasantness today. People dressed in ridiculous outfits out yelling and celebrating. One of them called me a... A... Muddle? No, that's not it..."
Her heart sank. "Muggle?"
"Yes, yes, that's it. Well, there were a lot of them out today. And... And I overheard some of them talking about the Potter's. And their daughter... Herakles."
She was trembling now and very glad she had set her tea down or she was sure she would have dropped it. Something had happened. Something big, bigger than anything in that world than ever before.
And somehow, her sister was right in the middle of it.
"What... What else did you hear?" She asked quietly, fear evident in her voice.
Vernon gave her an odd look but responded after a moment. "The man -- the one who called me a muggle -- he said I should 'rejoice, for You-Know-Who is gone at last.' I don ' t know who, of course, but I wasn't about to ask."
Petunia let out a long breath. She wasn't sure if it was in stress or relief. Probably both. It was probably good, wasn't it, if that was all that happened. "Lil- My sister spoke about him. Called him He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, or You-Know-Who. He is, or was, a terrorist of some sort. Used the darkest types of... Well, he was considered evil. Even for their lot. Killed a lot of people. And not just their type, either. He wanted to kill normal people. People like us." She stared at a random point on the wall opposite her. This was the most she had said about anything magic related in years.
Vernon looked at her long and hard for a moment. "Well, right then. That's... Well, I suppose everything should go back to normal soon. Perhaps I will call in sick tomorrow. Spend the day with Dudley and you."
She nodded stiffly and he stood to leave. But then Petunia thought of something that made fear rise in her chest. "Did... Did you notice any strangeness around here ?"
He paused. The implication was clear -- they might not be safe. "No, not any more than..." Suddenly he took in a sharp breath. "It's probably nothing, but there is a very odd cat outside our house. It's been there all day. I... I thought I saw it reading a map earlier."
Petunia went to the window. Sure enough, a stern-looking cat was sitting motionless on the garden wall.
And it was looking right back at her. She quickly drew the curtains shut as fast as she could and turned to her husband. "It's one of them , Vernon!" She shrieked hysterically. "Some of them can turn into animals, and I even heard about a teacher that could turn into a... A cat!"
His eyes grew big in fear. "Do you think it wants to hurt us?"
Petunia pursed her lips and pondered the question. "I... I don't think so. It could have done it at any time. But it will bring nothing but trouble. I might be able to get rid of it. You go check on Dudley!"
"No, you can't risk it, darling, please --"
She set her jaw. "I'll be fine. I survived all those years with her after all. I... I can handle this. Just keep an eye on Dudley."
She didn't wait for him to protest and hurried out the front door before she could change her mind. She ignored the fact that she was in a nightgown and dressing robe, with bare feet. She stalked towards the cat.
The feline turned slightly to face her but made no motion to leave. Petunia halted a meter away from it. Thankfully it was already dark out, or the neighbors would surely talk about how Mrs. Dursley of Number Four had gone mad, talking to cats in her nightclothes.
"I -- I know what you are." She hissed quietly. The cat only cocked its head in response. "Get out of here. We want nothing to do with your sort."
The cat gave her what seemed to be a stern glare and Petunia suddenly felt rather like a young child being chided for being rude.
She went on, though with much less confidence. "Go on! Get! I don't know why you're here, but if it has anything to do with my freak sister or her horrible husband, I'll have you know that I haven't even seen or spoken to her in years! So, as you can see, we have nothing to do with this! Just... Just leave us alone." She begged desperately.
The blasted cat looked angry, and for a moment Petunia thought it might attack her. But it just turned and lept gracefully off the wall, stalking across the street. Then it made a point of settling down on the walkway over there, still watching Petunia and her house.
She sighed and eyed the creature warily. This was a little better, but not much. Still, she didn't dare press the matter any further.
She returned to the safety of her home and locked the door behind her with trembling hands. Vernon was waiting for her.
"Well?" He asked gruffly.
She shuddered slightly. "I got it to at least leave the property. It's still there, but I don't think it will bother us." She whispered. "There isn't much we can do about it."
He nodded, reluctantly, and marched back upstairs. Petunia didn't move from her spot for several minutes, until she noticed her still mostly full mug of tea.
She finished it off, despite the fact it had long gone cold.
It was a couple of hours before the cat moved again. Mr. and Mrs. Dursley were both in bed, though she had a sneaking suspicion neither would sleep well tonight.
The feline padded silently back across the street. She was half tempted to urinate all over the precious garden, but she had far too much dignity for something like that . She considered perhaps simply clawing the flowers to shreds, but that too was beneath her. She hardly needed a reason to make Petunia more hostile towards their kind.
What was Albus thinking, bringing the girl here? Surely her godfather, or the Longbottoms, or even Andromeda would be better. Someone who would love and care for the little girl. Honestly, anyone would be better than these awful muggles.
For Merlin's sake, what was that barmy old goat up to this time? She loved the man, of course, but sometimes she wondered if he wasn't completely off his rocker.
What was it that the Prewett brothers used to say? 'Brilliant but mad as a hatter?'
It was quite an apt description.
Speaking of the devil himself, a loud crack echoed down the street. She turned to look at the new arrival.
Albus Dumbledore merrily walked down the street. He pulled out an odd device, which looked almost like a lighter. Except, when he clicked it open, there was no flame. Instead, the light from the streetlamps seemed to be sucked into it. When it once again clicked shut, Privet Drive was shadowed in darkness.
The old wizard continued on, undisturbed by the dark. His long yellow robes and purple cloak clashed horribly though, so perhaps it was for the best that anyone who looked out their windows at that moment would be unable to see him.
The cat watched him approach, unimpressed. She could see perfectly fine in the dark and was not spared the sight of his garish outfit.
He, too, seemed to see her. The old man paused only a moment before letting out a quiet chuckle. His blue eyes twinkled behind half-moon spectacles. "Ah," he muttered. "I should have known." He put the light putter-outer back into a deep pocket that was lost in the folds of his robe. "Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."
Where the tabby had been just moments prior, now sat a stern-looking woman. She was also wearing a cloak, an emerald one, but unlike the man it seemed to suit her dark dress.
She didn't bother with small talk. "Surely, Albus, you aren't really planning on leaving the girl here ? I've been watching them all day, and --"
"All day, my dear Professor? Surely you should have been out celebrating like everyone else!"
She sniffed haughtily at the interruption. "Ah yes, like everyone else. Does nobody care about the Statue of Secrecy?! The muggles have noticed , Albus! How fine a day would it be if we finally got rid of You-Know-Who, only for the muggles to discover us?" She paused briefly and looked back at him over the top of her square spectacles. "I suppose he really is gone?"
"It would seem so." He confirmed. "And it's all thanks to little Herakles Potter!"
She sighed. "So the rumors are true then? James and Lily..."
Albus' cheery disposition dropped and he donned a much more solemn air about him. "Yes, I'm afraid they are dead. Hopefully the last victims to fall at Voldemort's hand."
McGonagall visibly deflated and slouched slightly against the low garden wall. She didn't lose any tears, but she rarely did. After so many years of war, the losses had been numerous. But the idea that James and Lily were gone just before they finally had peace... It hurt the Professor something terrible.
Albus glanced down at a rather peculiar watch he had dug out from that mysterious pocket. "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was him who told you I would be here."
McGonagall stiffened. "Yes. And I don't suppose you will tell me why you are here, of all places?"
Albus looked at her for a long moment before responding. "I think you already know, Minerva. That's why you have been watching the Dursleys all day, after all."
"Well, I can only hope I'm wrong." She snapped half-heartedly. "Surely you don't plan to leave Lily's daughter here ? These people are the worst sorts of muggles, Albus. Petunia somehow knew that I was more than a cat, and came out to tell me in no uncertain terms that she wanted nothing to do with her 'freak sister or her horrid husband.' Every child in our world will grow up knowing Herakles' name, but you want to leave her with people who despise her existence?"
She glared at him even as he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He shook his head slightly before responding. "I understand your concern, Minerva. But that is precisely why this is the best place for her. Away from fame and the pressure of our world. She can have a normal childhood here, with her family ."
They were interrupted by a low rumbling noise, which only seemed to be getting louder. The old man instantly brightened up.
"Ah," he said happily. "Hagrid is here."
The usual pair looked up towards the sky as a point of light appeared. The light soon became two, then it was clear they were actually headlights on a large, flying motorcycle.
The vehicle soon landed smoothly on the cobbled street of Privet Drive -- right in front of Number Four, and the two people standing right outside.
The man on the contraption was massive, to say the least. He was just under four meters tall and almost as wide. In his arms he held a small bundle, which seemed even smaller in such giant hands.
"Is that --" McGonagall started.
"Yeh." The giant man responded. "It's 'erakles. I got 'er out before muggles started swarmin' th' place. She fell asleep as we were flying o’er Bristol."
He held out the bundle, cradled in a single hand, to McGonagall and Dumbledore. The former gingerly took it.
Swaddled in the soft blanket was a sleeping baby. She looked so peaceful, despite the fresh lightning-shaped cut above her right eye. She yawned in the Professor's arms before settling back down and curling against the woman.
"Is that where..." She started, looking at the red wound. It wasn't bleeding anymore, if it ever had been.
"Yes." Dumbledore confirmed solemnly. "She'll have that scar forever, I'm afraid. It's the mark of dark magic."
McGonagall squinted at it in concern. "We should have her taken to St. Mungo's. There's no telling what kind of effects she could suffer. No one has survived the killing curse before, after all."
The old man shook his head. "No, no. She will be poked and prodded as every healer wants to be the one to examine the Girl-Who-Lived. Poppy looked her over and found nothing of concern."
"Yes, well, Poppy is an excellent mediwitch but this may be a bit beyond her expertise. We need someone knowledgeable in Dark curses" she insisted.
Dumbledore put a calming hand on her shoulder. "The child is fine , Minerva. Let me take her."
She reluctantly gave up the bundle and watched the Headmaster walk up to the front door. She expected him to ring the doorbell, but he instead gently set Herakles down on the doorstep and tucked a letter into the folds of the blanket.
McGonagall gaped at him in incredulity as he returned to her and Hagrid. "Albus, just what do you think you are doing? You can't seriously be planning on leaving a fifteen-month-old child on a doorstep! It's November . She's old enough to wander off, you know! What if a wild animal finds her- assuming she doesn't freeze to death!" She started to march over to the baby but was stopped by Dumbledore.
"Minerva," he said calmly. "There's no need to worry. I've placed all sorts of charms to keep her safe until morning. This is the only way for the wards to take effect. Besides, I've left a letter explaining everything."
"A... A letter ?" She stammered. "You want to explain all of this in a letter ?"
The Headmaster sighed and placed a hand on each of the witch's shoulders. "Minerva. Do you trust me? I know what I am doing. I need you to believe me, this is the only way to protect the girl."
"Of course I trust you." She sniffed. "But I don't see how..."
"It's the only way." He repeated. Come now, let us return to Hogwarts. We have much to do."
She gave one last look at the slumbering girl before allowing herself to be led away and apparated to the school.
Minerva McGonagall would spend the next decade wondering whether she did the right thing.