You only know them, when they are gone.
"The Morning was quiet. Unnaturally quiet." Petunia thought as she got up from bed. She got dressed and made her way downstairs. She clicked her tongue, as she revised everything she would say to the neighbours in her head.
She froze.
The door was wide open, there were claw marks on the handle. She turned around. And saw a sight which made her pale rapidly. Harry's cupboard was wide open. But glaringly empty.
Petunia's legs felt weak.
She grabbed the phone and dialed 999.
She had lost the last thing connecting her to Lily.
The air in the Dursley household was thick with fear. Petunia’s hands trembled as she clutched the phone, her voice cracking under the weight of panic.
"He's gone! Harry’s gone! I—I don't know where he is! Please, you have to help me!" Petunia’s voice wavered, rising in pitch as she spoke to the police officer on the other end of the line.
The police had already been to the house, conducted a search, and found nothing—no signs of a struggle, no marks, no evidence of an intruder. Just the empty cupboard beneath the stairs where Harry should have been. (They had told the police officers that he was grounded for being a delinquent as a cover up)
A soft click from the front door echoed through the house, and Petunia froze, her breath caught in her throat. A figure entered the room, tall, imposing, and cloaked in the kind of quiet authority that could only belong to one person.
“Dumbledore…” Petunia’s voice faltered, but the worry in his eyes stopped her mid-sentence. He had arrived with a grim expression, his usual calm replaced by something deeper, more foreboding.
“Petunia,” Dumbledore said, his voice grave and low, “Why did you not inform me earlier? Why did you not mention the incident with your neighbors?” His words were sharp, every syllable carrying a heavy, unspoken accusation.
Petunia recoiled, confusion written all over her face. “What incident? What are you talking about?”
“The attack. The cannibalism.” Dumbledore’s voice hardened. “The police said they found signs of something… unnatural. Something dark.”
Petunia recoiled further, blinking in disbelief. "You think... it has to do with Harry? That’s just nonsense! It was just a wild animal!"
Dumbledore's expression hardened, his face pale with the weight of something unspoken. "No, Petunia. This is no animal. If Harry was taken… it’s because someone is after him. Something dark—something tied to a much larger force."
Her breath caught in her throat as she took in his words, but Dumbledore wasn’t finished.
"I fear this may be one of Voldemort's forces," Dumbledore continued, his voice thick with worry. “There is a lingering darkness in the world, and if they have targeted Harry… it is not by chance. It is vengeance. The forces of the Dark Lord are still very much alive, and they would stop at nothing to take back what they lost.”
Petunia's mind raced as she tried to comprehend the implications of his words. “But why Harry? He’s just a child… he doesn’t know anything about them!”
Dumbledore’s eyes darkened with a deep sorrow. “Harry’s connection to Voldemort, to the very heart of what happened all those years ago… It is more than just a story. Voldemort’s followers still remember. They have not forgotten the defeat of their master. And Harry… Harry is their symbol of that loss. They will not rest until they have him.”
Petunia’s legs buckled beneath her, and she collapsed into a nearby chair, unable to stand. “What do we do? How do we find him? You said the protection Lily gave would protect us?”
Dumbledore’s face was filled with quiet determination. “I don’t know where they’ve taken him, but I will find him. We must be swift. Voldemort’s followers are relentless, and if they have Harry, they will not hesitate to use him for their own dark purposes.”
The room seemed to grow colder, the shadows pressing in around them. In the distance, the faintest of howls echoed from the direction of the garden, as if the night itself was calling out.
Dumbledore’s eyes flicked toward the window, his mind already racing through countless possibilities. “I have not been idle in my search for the Dark Lord’s remnants. But now, Petunia, we must do everything we can to stop them before it’s too late.”
The clock on the wall ticked louder, the minutes stretching out in tense silence. Harry’s fate now hung in the balance, the shadow of vengeance looming closer with every passing second.