Chapter Text
She had always loved the idea of going on an adventure in a magical world.
She'd watched Judy Garland in her bright red slippers on her grandparents' VHS being transported to Oz and blooming into color hundreds of times.
She'd loved to hear her Grammy's down soft voice tell her about the Pevensie children wandering into Narnia to save it and being crowned Valiant, Gentle, Just and Magnificent.
She'd adored reading over and over how Bilbo Baggins left his hobbit-hole to riddle dragons and trick trolls from her old battered green copy of The Hobbit she carried in her pocket for years.
She'd imagined herself as Sailor Moon activating magical powers to fight evil, wearing her grandmother's Church skirt as substitute for the uniform, her hair pulled up into lopsided “meatballs”, wielding a hair curler with a compact tied to a ribbon around her neck.
She'd whispered orders to the construction equipment at her Papaw's work to the form Devastator and told the big rigs they passed on the freeway to “Roll out!” as they sped past them.
Harry hearing “Yer a wizard!” and being swept off by kindly half-giants was just as much a part of a color fabric of stories that weaved together her childhood and the dreamlands of her youth as Wart's misadventures with magic and pulling the Sword from the Stone.
It became a dream she fulfilled in writing.
Then she died.
"Up! Now!" Petunia demanded, knuckles snapping sharply on the door of Daisy's cupboard. Daisy, who'd been up the better part of an hour, closed her book and turned off her flashlight, storing them both in the space between the wall and her bed. She was up and pushing the door open before Petunia could finish her next shout.
Petunia startled at that, taking a step back and then scowling at the motion straightening up and looking down at Daisy with disapproving pale jadeite eyes tracing her mess of black hair.
"Brush first." Petunia ordered briskly. "I will not have you looking a sight in front of company."
Daisy didn't even bother grumbling in her own mind, relieved, at least, she'd have the opportunity to do her own hair rather than be forced under Petunia's heavy handed hair pulling. She quickly grabbed her small box of supplies out from under the guest bathroom sink and started from the bottom under her aunt's watch. Petunia only lingered a few moments though before hurrying away.
Daisy sighed, shoulders relaxing, and hummed, focusing until her hair brush warmed and then smoothly brushed through hair falling tangle free and curling softly. She kept humming until she got her hair into the tight double braid Petunia insisted on, tying the ends of with the tiny hair ribbons.
A regular hair band 'looked cheap'.
Hopefully it would hold up and not try to escape any confines until after they'd shuffled her off to Mrs. Figg.
Daisy went downstairs, squinting at the early dawn light and Petunia imperiously pointed to a pile of presents and wrapping paper.
"They had better look perfect." Petunia said, voice ending in a silent threat and sniffed at Daisy before she headed outside garden gloves on and clippers held tight in hand to continue preparing the outside 'for company'.
Like Piers hadn't just seen the front yard yesterday.
Daisy allowed herself a moment to roll her eyes as she grabbed the first box and began carefully cutting the paper for it, eyeballing the dimensions. Her fingers tightened around the scissors, jaw clenched tightly and she reminded herself she'd get to leave soon.
She let herself get lost in the repetitive motions, folding the paper precisely and carefully ensuring each loop of the bow was proportionate. She could hold her tongue and keep quiet until it was time. She just needed a little longer.
A little longer and she'd get to leave.
Petunia came in exactly fifteen minutes before the newspaper would be delivered, looked over the way Daisy had arranged and wrapped with grudging approval, and went to freshen up. She left Daisy with strict orders to set the table but to touch nothing in the cooking area. A week without dinner and one emergency room visit for a burn even the Dursleys couldn't ignore was worth being banned from cooking.
She would tolerate Petunia's laser focused distress if Daisy so much as cut an apple and Vernon's constant grumblings about being a 'proper girl'.
Daisy had just finished straightening the utensils when Petunia returned, perfectly poised and hair carefully fluffed up with volume in a Princess Diana cut. She looked downright disappointed to find the table arranged perfectly even after she got out her ruler and began measuring the space between them. Her lips pursed and she looked Daisy up and down a moment, before nodding.
"Room until breakfast." she ordered, but then paused and said, as if it hurt. "Adequate job. Dismissed."
Daisy obeyed, eagerly heading back to her safe space and flopping on her bed, stretching out and closing her eyes.
Sixty-nine days. Just sixty-nine days to go.
She let herself doze a bit.
When the telephone rang Daisy tensed up and focused on Dudley unwrapping his gifts. Her entire senses were focused on Petunia in the entry way though, straining to listen to the muffled words. Her skin tingled, taut with tension and face feeling hot as she waited. Dudley made some pleased noises about his gifts in between the ripping of the gift paper. When Petunia stepped back through the door she looked annoyed, but not badly strained.
Daisy tried not to make it obvious she was on the edge waiting to hear.
“Bad news, Vernon,” Petunia said and Daisy's breath caught. “Mrs. Figg has errands to run and wants her dropped off early.”
Vernon looked immediately annoyed. “We're already going out of our way to drop her off so the woman doesn't have to. Now she wants us to work around her schedule. Absolutely no consideration of our plans!”
Daisy didn't twitch, but she felt her insides swell up warm and triumphant, head lightheaded.
Mrs. Figg hadn't broken her leg.
Mrs. Figg hadn't broken her leg!
She forced herself not to smile and made sure to loosen her shoulders and look down at her plate.
“Excuse me, Uncle Vernon?” Daisy said, soft in the way she knew Uncle Vernon preferred.
He grunted, which was as good as permission, though Petunia threw her a suspicious look.
“I can walk by myself. Mrs. Figg's only two streets over and I know the way. I wouldn't want to interrupt Dudders birthday.”
“Absolutely not.” Petunia snapped instantly. “And have you run off to do who knows what?”
“It should only take ten minutes,” Daisy said, still carefully submissive and reasonable, not rising to the bait, despite how utterly ridiculous the accusation was. “I can call from Mrs. Figg's and you can talk to her and confirm I'm there.”
Petunia looked like she had swallowed a lemon, but Vernon made a thoughtful noise which Daisy knew meant she'd won.
“There immediately,” Petunia ordered, green eyes flinty as she walked Daisy to the door. “No wandering, no extra stops, no talking.”
Daisy nodded and tried not to skip as she rushed off.
Dudley's birthday passed blissfully, perfectly normal.
Daisy spent the first half of it, happily carrying Mrs. Figg's groceries in the canvas bags she used for them and helped unpack them when they returned to the house. They had some slightly dry cucumber sandwiches with tea and cold cut sandwiches for lunch after Daisy helped feed the cats, half-kneazles she knew. She made sure to give Tibbles extra ear rubs and a small piece of turkey.
"Good job, Prince of Cats," she told him in a whisper over his purrs, while she rubbed the side of his face with her palms.
Tibbles blinked at her slowly with bright amber eyes, gently nibbled her fingertips and ran off to finish his snack.
The rest of the time was spent with Daisy curled up in her favorite armchair reading one of Mrs. Figg's son's old books, swept away into the moors of Dartmoor, while Mrs. Figg responded to the letters of potential applicants for Queen Matilde's latest litter.
Daisy went back to Number Four that evening with Petunia escorting her back home after a quick interrogation of Mrs. Figg on Daisy's behavior. Which Mrs. Figg answered with cool politeness giving Daisy a chance to tuck away the books and the cookie tin Mrs. Figg had surprised her with out of sight. She made an effort to look subdued and unhappy when Petunia eyed her up and down.
Dudley even surprised her by cornering her to offer her the pinwheel that he'd broken off his zoo cap for being 'sissy-ish'. She'd taken the rainbow colored toy and spun it lightly in her hand before accepting with a small smile. He puffed up seemingly proud of himself and sauntered off.
Daisy was able to hide her chuckle until she was looking at the dark ceiling of her cupboard.
She'd changed something else.
The rest of the school year passed with little surprises. Dudley got into a bit of trouble for harassing some of the boys in the lower years which Petunia was quick to excuse him from and scream in defense of her 'baby boy'. Daisy listened to it distantly as she tried to finish up her copy of Dealing With Dragons before Petunia got out of the office.
It wouldn't do for her 'aunt' to see her reading anything to do with magic and the librarian had surprised her with it, holding it as an 'early birthday' surprise for Daisy when she mentioned it off hand. Daisy attempted to return it only for Miss Patricia to smile at her and carefully wrap it in brown paper and write 'For my best reader' before passing it back.
It was a good end for her last year to be honest and she focused on marking down the days, tense like a bloodhound scenting prey every time the mail slot slid open.
It wasn't until the last week of July, when Daisy was so tense she was prepared to snap that she'd been sent to fetch the mail and found the letter, written in bright green ink.
Miss D. Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
She bit back a sob, eyes burning and shoved it into the slit under her cupboard door and forced herself to calm down. She swallowed back any hysterical giggles and once her eyes felt dry she headed back.
"Marge's ill," Vernon announced to the table after he started looking through the mail. "Ate a funny whelk..."
Daisy let the conversation wash over her, focusing on her food completely as she finished up.
The next day she made sure to turn the letter over with a befuddled, "Aunt Petunia, someone wrote to me?" and followed a protesting Dudley, who demanded to be included, when they were thrown out.
Daisy felt cool and confident in a way she hadn't felt in years. She cheerfully watched Vernon's complete breakdown and Petunia turning into a nervous wreck as the letters escalated. She lounged in her new bedroom, a room that should have been hers for years, each night she reassured herself of reality by bringing out the letter she'd kept and carefully touching her 'golden ticket' before sleeping.
Dudley was growing increasingly frustrated and was absolutely agog at his parents refusing him no matter how much he screamed demands to see Daisy's letters.
He stomped, screamed in Petunia's face, and even threw some of his things through the window.
Nothing worked.
Furious the boy tracked down Daisy at the park they'd been packed off to in order to commiserate, whining about the unfairness of it all, completely oblivious to the irony of these statements. Daisy had nodded along, making quiet noises as she read through her book, swinging lightly on the swing set. He lingered until Piers showed up and he ordered her to stay in sight since he was her 'escort' while he ran off to meet up with his friend. Daisy finally let herself chuckle when he left and traced the outline of her letter where she'd secured it against her stomach, under her dress.
Then came the day Vernon frantically packed them into his car, ranting like a mad man and it took everything in Daisy not to beam as she relished his puce colored face and half destroyed mustache.
Daisy woke up giddy at the loud booming knocking.
She barely felt the aches and pains from laying on the cold ground.
It was time!