Chapter One
Chapter One
Harriet sat on a stool by the open living room window overlooking the garden of number four, Privet Drive. She was so still as she sat there that one might have mistaken her for a statue from her stiff posture alone, that is, of course, until they could see the way her dark-red hair swayed behind her. Her small hands, which were always fidgeting with something, whether her hair or a loose thread from one of the oversized t-shirts which she usually wore, were perfectly folded on her lap; like the good girl her aunt said she should be.
There was a reason for this, of course, and it was her aunt, Petunia, who stood behind her at the moment, as this was a very special occasion.
It was Harriet’s seventh birthday.
The old-fashioned, yellow sundress that her aunt had made her wear that day swayed gently in the warm, summer afternoon breeze. It may have looked like a peaceful scene to the casual observer, one that featured a beautiful, young girl peacefully enjoying the sunny day, while her doting mother behind her gently combed her hair.
However, this was not the case should one look more closely.
Aunt Petunia was passing a small-toothed comb through Harriet’s hair, the comb getting snagged on a knot in the unruly hair more often than not, only for her aunt to roughly tug at it, taking away several strands and the knotted hair away with it. Harriet didn’t flinch, because she knew better than to protest on the abuse on her poor scalp. Aunt Petunia passed the comb over the sore area again, and this time, Harriet had to make a visible effort not to flinch.
“Good girl.” She heard her aunt murmur just by her left ear, as she raked her long nails through her hair, and right on the sore spot. “You’re such a good girl.” She said as she stroked the straight-combed portion of Harriet’s hair in an almost loving gesture.
“Thank you, auntie.”
Harriet shifted a little then, trying to ease the discomfort that seemed to press down on the top of her head. The movement was minuscule, but unfortunately for her, her aunt had noticed. She grabbed Harriet’s shoulder then, her firm grip digging into the pale shoulder beneath, devoid of mercy and compassion for the little girl that sat so close to her.
“Hold still now, Lily. You don’t want to mess up your lovely hair now, do you?” Aunt Petunia spoke in a low voice. As her long, sharp nails dug into the child’s pale shoulder, they finally broke skin. “I’ve even made you all pretty.”
Harriet squirmed beneath her hand and tried to get away from her aunt’s touch, finally cracking under the pressure of having to endure her aunt’s torture for so long.
“Auntie, please, it hurts.” She let out a gasp of pain as her aunt dug her nails in deeper and yanked her back properly into her seat. And even when she was properly seated again, Aunt Petunia still didn’t let go. With a smile, she picked up the comb that she had dropped during her struggle with her niece, and went back to combing her hair, only this time, it was far more roughly and way less gently.
“Insolent child. You’re lucky I’m in such a good mood today. If you had done this at any other time, I would not have been so gentle with my punishment. We are your family- your Uncle Vernon and cousin Dudders both included- , no? So why must you treat us this way, with such disobedience? After all, we are the only ones who could ever love a freak like you.” She said all this with a wide smile plastered on her face.
'She really is in a good mood today', Harriet thought with a start, 'maybe I could ask her about it today, since she seems to be so talkative.' As she opened her mouth to ask her burning question, she hesitated. She knew that normally, her asking a question in that household was strictly forbidden, 'so is it really alright for me to do so?' She wondered.
Aunt Petunia must have sensed her nervousness, or maybe it was because her niece had broken out in sweat that had nothing to do with the summer heat. But what ever it was, Harriet could not have anticipated what her aunt said next.
“Would you like to ask me a question, Lily? It’s alright, I’ll allow it, but only for today, of course. It’ll be our little secret."
'Finally'. Embolden by her words, Harriet quickly swallowed a pained grimace and the dregs of her nervousness to ask her question
“Aunt,… what is love?”
Harriet felt her aunt freeze with the comb partly through her hair. She sucked oxygen into lungs that seemed to be stuffed full with cotton, and broke out in another bout of nervous sweat. Thinking her aunt was about to unleash her wrath on her, she tensed up immediately in anticipation of a hit, and so that she could always heed to her previous solution. She thought, 'I wonder how far I could get this time.' However, the hit never came.
"Oh, my," Aunt Petunia said breathlessly, "I certainly wasn't expecting that, you silly girl."
She gave another tug at Harriet's hair, finally satisfied with the glossy sheen the hair now possessed, and grabbed an emerald-green hairband to gather her hair into a high ponytail.
"If you want to know so badly, then I'll tell you. But first, let me tell you a little story."
Harriet sat up straighter as she heard this, trying not to do anything to make her aunt angry and change her mind about answering her question. Aunt Petunia must have noticed, because she blew out a breath of soft laughter before clearing her throat
“Long ago, there lived a peaceful family of four in a place called Cokeworth. There was the mother, loving and caring; and the father, sometimes strict and always firm in his decisions, but it was always out of love for his family. They had two daughters. One, the younger sister, was as lovely as can be, with long, flowing red hair, green eyes, and a beauty to match, and not to mention intelligent beyond her years. She was the gem of her parent’s eyes. The elder sister was, however, ordinary in every sense of the word. She had no true beauty, no daring intellect, and no sharp wit. Nothing was at all special about her, but she had the unconditional love of her parents and her younger sister. Or so she thought.” Aunt Petunia paused here to adjust Harriet on her seat.
“You see, they lived in a happy home, or at least what the elder sister thought of as one, and and didn’t think anything could go wrong with the way her life currently was. She thought she had the perfect life. But all that changed shortly after her little sister’s eleventh birthday.” Harriet felt her aunt tug her hair more roughly than she had before, tightening the fist that had closed over her hair. She squirmed a bit, and that seemed to snap her aunt out of whatever trance she had been in.
“Ahem. As I were saying, everything changed for the elder sister on the younger’s eleventh birthday. I won’t tell you what really happened, but I will tell you that she suddenly became the sole focus of their parents’ love and affection.” Though Harriet was curious about what Aunt Petunia refused to tell her, she knew better than to push her luck twice in one day.
“You see, their parents called the younger sister special, gifted, and showered all sorts of praises on her. She had deceived them, making them dote on her even more than they used to, and they were none the wiser. But only one person could see through her obvious schemes and said as such. The elder sister. She had told their parents her suspicions and they had called her jealous. The elder sister had always wondered why they couldn’t see her younger sister for what she truly was : a freak.” Aunt Petunia paused her rant as she took a deep breath. It seemed like she had wanted to say all this for a while now, to get it all off her chest, but couldn’t for some reason. Harriet suddenly regretted asking her question.
“Not having anyone else to believe her, the elder sister finally picked up her courage and confronted her younger sister on her freakishness. The younger sister had denied vehemently of course, claiming innocence, but the elder sister knew better. The younger sister then went and told their parents about their confrontation, using her influence to make them feel sorry for her and take her side. Their parents then ruthlessly scolded the elder sister and shunned her for her actions, though justified. Their love for her had turned sour, just like that, as if it was never there in the first place.” She had finally finished tidying-up her hair and placed it in a ponytail with the hairband. Harriet finally exhaled in relief from both the pain and having to sit still for so long
“So you see, dear Lily,” Aunt Petunia spun Harriet toward her and grasped her chin in a bruising grip. 'Oh boy, she’s not done yet?' “ You ask me what love is, but there is no right answer. Everyone shows love differently, and sometimes, it is not always given freely, like ours for you.” She let go of her chin and stepped back to look Harriet over. “Love is whatever you want it to be.”
&&
Harriet later sat alone in her cupboard under the stairs and thought about everything her aunt had said to her earlier that afternoon. It was evening now, and she sat alone in the darkness. She had a good idea about who the two sisters in the story were, but had been too afraid to say anything about it. Because she had looked at her aunt's face then, really looked at her, and saw everything she wanted to know. She could still remember how dark the circles around her eyes were, and even the stange look she had when she looked at Harriet, like she wanted to keep her forever.
'Love is whatever you want it to be', she had said. Harriet taught about all the actions of her relatives toward her: how Dudley plays with her in a game of "Harry Hunting"; how her aunt combs her hair on special occasions; and even how her uncle beats her every time she misbehaves. The thought of all that gave her a warm feeling in her chest. 'I guess they really do love me, huh? I should be grateful for that, even though they all love me differently.'
She reached to the back of her neck and stroked her ponytail softly. 'Love is whatever you want it to be. It is not always given freely, like ours for you.' Her aunt's words resounded in her mind in the darkness, and she finally made up her mind. She smiled as she thought of her decision.
'If someone does not give me their love freely,... then I will just have to take it.'