The dropp-off
October 1981
The Drop-Off
Petunia Evans Dankworth was no ordinary housewife living in Little Whinging. Unknown to her nosy neighbours and even her oblivious husband, John, the accountant. Petunia was a decorated British intelligence officer. After being recruited straight out of university, Petunia quickly rose through the ranks, specialising in counter-espionage.
Petunia’s journey from a resentful young woman overshadowed by her sister's magical brilliance to a formidable intelligence officer was marked by a deep-seated determination to reclaim control over her life. In October 1981, as the world around her buzzed with the mundane rhythms of suburban life in Little Whinging, Petunia was anything but ordinary. Beneath the guise of a housewife running a modest bed and breakfast, Petunia was a seasoned and decorated British intelligence officer, expertly navigating the dual lives she had crafted for herself.
The bed and breakfast where she worked was a quaint and unassuming establishment in Little Whinging. The bed and breakfast was more than just a business; it was a front for the British government's covert operations. The tranquil lake and park nearby provided cover for intelligence officers to exchange secrets under the guise of casual strolls or picnics. Petunia had become an expert in managing these operations, and her sharp mind and attention to detail made her an invaluable asset to MI5. She had built a life where she was in control, where every move was calculated, and every decision weighed for its impact on national security. The memory of Lily and the magical world she represented surfaced briefly in her mind. But unlike before, it no longer dominated her thoughts. Petunia was no longer just Lily's sister; she was her own person, a force to be reckoned with in her own right.
Petunia cover was that of just another suburban housewife; her life was a picture of domestic tranquillity in the outside world. Even her husband, John Dankworth, an accountant, was blissfully unaware of the double life his wife led. He believed her job at the bed and breakfast was simply a way to keep herself busy, never suspecting the high-stakes world of espionage that lay beneath the surface.
Petunia's life was shaped by her sister Lily's magical abilities from an early age. Lily was everything Petunia was not: gifted, adored, and extraordinary. The Evans household was filled with whispers of wonderment at Lily's abilities, leaving Petunia in the shadows, grappling with feelings of inadequacy. Despite her envy, there was a deep, unspoken love for her sister, a complex bond fraught with unacknowledged affection and rivalry. Petunia wanted to be unique, too, to have something that was hers alone.
As Lily delved deeper into the magical world, leaving Petunia behind in the Muggle one, Petunia felt an increasing sense of powerlessness. She could never truly be a part of the magical realm, a world where she was always the outsider, the ordinary sister. But Petunia was not one to wallow in self-pity. Instead, she chose a path that allowed her to assert control over her life in a way that no one—not even her extraordinary sister—could.
While Lily wielded her wand and cast spells, Petunia wielded her mind and honed her skills in intelligence and espionage. Petunia’s decision to join MI5’s Magical Intelligence Branch was born out of this desire to regain control in a world where she felt powerless. Instead of allowing this to embitter her, she channelled her envy and desire for control into something productive by joining a secret British government branch that dealt with magical threats.
Recruited straight out of university for her sharp intellect and keen observational skills, Petunia quickly rose through the ranks of British intelligence. Petunia’s recruitment into the Magical Intelligence Branch was a turning point in her life, where she learned to navigate the complexities of the magical world from a non-magical perspective. She became skilled in monitoring magical activities, particularly those threatening the non-magical world's safety. This also gave her insight into the dangers one might face in the future when dealing with the magical population. She specialised in counter-espionage, using her knowledge of the magical world—gained from years of observing Lily and her friends—to become one of the most influential operatives in dealing with magical threats to national security.
The British government had been quietly recruiting Squibs—those born into magical families without magical abilities—since 1947. Squibs, often overlooked by the wizarding world, made excellent spies, their non-magical status allowing them to navigate both worlds without suspicion. With their reliance on memory charms and secrecy, the magical population remained oblivious to this security gap. The British government, however, was acutely aware that no memory charm was perfect and that traces of magical activity often lingered, detectable by those trained to find them. The Magical Intelligence Branch, established shortly after World War II, ensured that the magical world did not threaten the non-magical population, particularly in an increasingly connected world where information was more easily shared.
Petunia’s journey into espionage began long before this night in October 1981. Her sharp mind, keen observational skills, and ability to blend into any environment made her an ideal candidate for MI5.
During her university days, Petunia met John, a pragmatic and understanding accountant. He knows nothing of the magical world. Their relationship provides her with a semblance of normalcy, even as she deals with the hidden world of magic as an intelligence officer. John helps Petunia as a grounding force, reminding her of the importance of balancing her dual lives.
However, Petunia’s success in the intelligence field came with its own set of challenges. The secretive nature of her work meant she could never fully share her life with anyone, not even her husband. The nosy neighbours in Little Whinging saw her as a quiet, private woman, unaware of the dangerous game she played every day. Petunia was always careful and vigilant, maintaining her cover as a simple housewife while orchestrating complex intelligence operations behind the scenes.
Petunia married John C. Dankworth, an accountant with a predictable and steady life, to maintain a low profile. John is unaware of Petunia’s double life, believing her to be a typical housewife. This facade allows Petunia to operate without suspicion, even from those closest to her. Petunia’s marriage to John isn’t just about love or convenience; it’s a strategic choice. John’s position as an accountant is stable and unassuming, offering the perfect cover for Petunia’s covert operations. Their home at 4 Privet Drive, a place of absolute normalcy, is the last place anyone would suspect a hidden MI5 agent to live in.
As Petunia sat down earlier that fateful day of October 1981 in her small office at the bed and breakfast, reviewing classified documents and preparing for her next mission, she couldn’t help but reflect on the path that had brought her here. She was once the sister left behind, overshadowed by magic and wonder.
Now she is the one protecting her country from threats, both magical and mundane. The memory of Lily and the magical world she represented still lingered in the back of Petunia’s mind, but it no longer held the same power over her. Petunia had forged her own path, which was uniquely hers, and she was determined to see it through, no matter the cost.
Later that night, as Petunia returned home, the weight of the day’s events hung heavily on her. She had been considering a move to a management role within the Magical Intelligence Branch—a transition that would allow her to continue her work while also preparing for the arrival of her own baby, due in November. The thought of stepping back from the front lines was both a relief and a source of anxiety. She had always thrived on the thrill of the field, but with a baby on the way, her priorities were beginning to shift.
On the night that Harry Potter was left on her doorstep, Petunia was shocked.
She had just put the kettle on when she heard the softest knocks. Expecting nothing more than a late-night visitor, perhaps a neighbour in need, Petunia was confronted with an infant swaddled in blankets. For a moment, she was frozen, her heart pounding in her chest as she took in the sight.
When Harry Potter was left on her doorstep, Petunia Evans Dankworth found herself facing a situation that even her extensive intelligence training had not prepared her for.
The air was crisp, the stars barely visible through the clouds, and the quiet suburban streets of Little Whinging were as uneventful as always—until Petunia opened her front door.
But something else troubled her, something beyond the immediate shock. Petunia was due to give birth to her own child in November, and the idea of raising two infants—one of whom was already marked by a world she could never fully control—was overwhelming. She had been considering moving into a management role at MI5, thinking it would allow her more time to focus on her family, but now everything seemed uncertain.
For a moment, Petunia allowed herself to wonder if this was her sister’s final act of love—a way of ensuring that her child would be safe, even if it meant placing him in the care of someone who had always been envious of her. The thought was both comforting and painful, a reminder of her complex relationship with Lily as the last time they had talked was an intense argument, and a polite letters to each other on life's general updates did not count as making up for what was said years ago.
.
The shock of seeing the baby boy was nothing compared to the confusion and anger that followed. Petunia’s mind raced, trying to piece together how this could have happened and why this child was now in her care. And then she noticed the letter. It was tucked inside the folds of Harry’s blankets, sealed with a wax emblem she immediately recognised: Hogwarts's crest. However, the name at the bottom of the letter sent a cold shiver down her spine—Albus Dumbledore.
Petunia didn’t need to open the letter to know it would be filled with the usual platitudes and cryptic reassurances that wizards so often relied on. Her hands trembled as she broke the seal, the letter’s contents confirming her worst fears. Lily and James were dead, killed by the dark wizard Voldemort. Harry, the only survivor, had somehow defeated Voldemort—though Dumbledore provided no real explanation as to how or why. The letter was scant on details, offering little more than the insistence that Harry needed to stay with her, that her home was the safest place for him now.
It was a paltry explanation, and Petunia knew better than to trust it at face value. Her work with MI5 had trained her to see through such half-truths and obfuscations. The Magical Intelligence Branch had been created precisely to monitor and manage magical threats, ensuring they were dealt with before they could spill over into the Muggle world. Petunia had always known that Lily’s world was dangerous, but to find that danger literally on her doorstep was something else entirely.
She took a deep breath, closing the letter and slipping it into her pocket. She needed to think and strategise, but first, she had to let John know. He was in the kitchen, and there was no way to hide a baby from him—not that she wanted to. Despite the strange and precarious situation, this was still Lily’s son, her flesh and blood.
Petunia walked into the kitchen, where John fixed himself a late-night snack. The kitchen's warmth, with its cosy glow and the comforting aroma of tea, contrasted sharply with the turmoil in Petunia’s mind.
She watched him for a moment, gathering her thoughts. How was she going to explain this? She almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all—a child left on their doorstep with nothing but a cryptic letter for explanation. But she also felt the urge to cry, overwhelmed by the enormity of what had just happened.
“So… we have a package,” Petunia finally said, her voice betraying none of the chaos she felt inside.
Preoccupied with his task, John asked, "Petunia?" he replied, glancing up at her briefly before returning to the task. John looked up again from the bread he was buttering, giving her a puzzled smile. “What was that, love?” he asked, not quite catching her words.
Petunia took a deep breath, steadying herself. “We have a package,” she repeated, her voice firmer this time. “But not the kind you’re thinking.”
John’s brow furrowed in confusion as he turned to face her fully. “What do you mean? What kind of package?”
Petunia stepped in front of him, revealing the small bundle, and John’s eyes widened in disbelief. He moved closer, his initial shock giving way to concern as he saw the baby nestled among the blankets.
Petunia hesitated, her mind racing between the shock of finding her nephew on her doorstep and the implications of the situation. The letter from Professor Dumbledore had provided almost no information—just vague references to a terrible tragedy and an assurance that Harry was safest with her. The only real indication of what had transpired was a brief mention of "Lily and James," followed by an eerie silence on their fate.
But Petunia knew more than what the letter revealed. She had been briefed on classified information during a high-level meeting at MI5, information that hinted at a brewing storm in the magical world. The British government, aware of the magical community’s existence, had long since established a covert understanding of the wizarding world. The Magical Intelligence Branch, the department where Petunia had made a name for herself, was created to ensure that any potential threats from wizards were monitored and dealt with discreetly. Petunia’s role in the department had placed her at the heart of this delicate balancing act between two worlds.
Still, this was different. Harry was family—her sister's child—and he was now in her care, with so little explanation, which was unnerving. She recalled the last time she had seen Lily; their relationship was strained but not completely severed. The idea that her sister could be gone, leaving this small, vulnerable child behind, was something Petunia hadn’t allowed herself to fully consider until now.
As she stood there, holding her nephew, Petunia was overwhelmed by a flood of emotions she had long kept at bay—grief, guilt, and an unexpected protectiveness toward the small boy in her arms. The life she had carefully constructed, a life of control and order, had been upended in a single night.
John finally getting out of his own shock state, his casual demeanour giving way to concern as he noticed the baby in her arms. "Petunia, what on earth...?" he began, his voice trailing off as he registered the gravity of the situation.
“Petunia… what is this? Whose child is this?” John’s voice was filled with confusion and worry.
“It’s Harry,” Petunia said quietly, her voice tinged with a sadness she hadn’t expected to feel. “Lily’s son.”
“Lily’s son?” John repeated, as if trying to process the information. “But why is he here? Where are his parents?”
Petunia hesitated, her mind racing through the possibilities. She had to be careful how much she revealed. John didn’t know about the full extent of her work or the magical world. “They’re gone, John,” she finally said, her voice heavy. “There was an… incident. He’s the only one who survived.”
John looked at her, searching her eyes for answers. “And they just left him here? With us? What are we supposed to do?”
Petunia could feel the weight of the decision pressing down on her. This wasn’t just about taking in a child; it was about the world they were about to step into and the dangers they would now face. But she knew there was no other choice. Harry was family, and whatever her feelings toward the magical world, she couldn’t turn him away.
Petunia took a deep breath, steadying herself. "John," she said, her voice firmer now, "we need to make some decisions. This isn’t just about us anymore. It’s about keeping Harry safe, and... there are things I need to explain to you, things you don’t know."
John nodded, still processing the situation. "Okay, Petunia. Whatever you need, I’m here."
As she looked at her husband, Petunia realised that the life she had built, with all its secrets and sacrifices, was about to become even more complicated.
With her own baby due in November, Petunia had been contemplating a move to a management role within MI5, one that would allow her to balance her career with motherhood. But now, with Harry in her care, those plans were put on hold. The safety of her nephew became her top priority.
Petunia understood the gravity of the situation. She knew that Harry’s arrival was not just a family matter but one with potentially far-reaching consequences. The dangers that Harry could face were real and imminent, and she had to act quickly to protect him. Her intelligence training kicked in, and she began to formulate a plan.
Petunia’s connection with her European colleague, Elena Weiss, who specialised in magical protection, became a critical resource. Elena had extensive knowledge of the magical world and could provide Petunia with her expertise to keep Harry safe. Petunia would reach out to Elena, and together, they would work to establish powerful protective wards around the Dankworth home. These wards would shield Harry from any magical threats that might arise, ensuring that he would be safe under Petunia's care.
As she held Harry close, feeling the weight of the responsibility thrust upon her, Petunia knew her life would never be the same. The world she had worked so hard to build, one of order and control, was now intertwined with the chaotic and unpredictable world of magic. But Petunia was determined to see this new chapter through, no matter the cost. She would protect Harry, just as she had protected her country, using every resource at her disposal. In doing so, she would honour the memory of the sister she had loved and lost, even if that meant stepping back into a world she had once tried so hard to leave behind.
She would have to explain to John why she had such a tense relationship with her sister; she was not looking forward to that. At least she knew John would help with the civilian paperwork.