Inopinatum

Mothers day had long since been a completely joyful day for Petunia Dursely.

It had once, before her own mother had casted her aside for her sister, inherently better then her in all the ways that mattered. Petunia, plain, average, normal Petunia. and made apparent her favoritism towards her sister, towards Lily. Beautiful, extraordinary Lily.
Yes, Petunia remembers the first mothers day after Hogwarts, after Lily went to Hogwarts, the first mothers day since her sister had been stolen from her, in more ways then one.

Yes, she very clearly remembers the day. She'd been 13- 14?. She'd spent all her pocket money on a new embroidery kit for her mother, she'd known it would be something her mother would love. The day had started and breakfast had arrived, Petunia and her father had made mother breakfast in bed, as was there mothers day tradition, though she'd noticed the sullen look on her parent's faces when they thought of Lily's absence, their eyes casting over to the window- waiting for an owl, an owl from lily. Because Petunia would never be, had never been enough for them.

She'd noticed the plain joy in their eyes as a small brown owl flew through their bedroom window, the way her mother had jumped to her feet, sending Petunia's gifted embroidery kit tumbling to the ground, forgotten.

She'd watched the joy- more joy then her mother had ever had for her, as she opened the parcel. She saw the tears of happiness in her eyes as she reached into the package and brought out a bouquet of Lillies. They weren't normal flowers, she could see from her short distance away that the flowers were dancing, as if in the wind, though their was not even the slightest huff of wind in her parents bedroom. Magic.

Typical Lily, typical Petunia , always being out shined. Never as good as Lily, never special enough, never beautiful enough, never magical.

And of course the day had been soured further when her mother had died, only a year before Lily had.

A hand on her shoulder brought her out of the past, she turned to face her small son, Dudley. A smile graced her lips as her little boy grinned at her, he bounced to stand in front of her, cheeks rosy from all the running around- the little tyke. They'd gone out for a day at the park, Dudley had begged her that morning to go, and oh she just could never say no to her precious baby, he'd smiled brightly when she'd said yes, though he'd had a mild breakdown (Or rather tantrum as his horrible, uneducated reception teacher would call it, he was just a boy with a lot of emotions! ) when she'd been forced to take the Freak with them. 

Vernon was at work and Mrs figgs from down the road was on holiday, and she couldn't just leave the kleptomaniac to run riot in her home! 

Dudley pouted and poked her in the shoulder, bringing her attention to the gift in his hands.

"Mum i got you some flowers!" Dudder's exclaimed thrusting a pile of slightly trampled lawn daisy's in her face.

"Those are weeds sweetheart," Petunia pursed her lips, but pet her son on the shoulder none the less, pressing a kiss to his chubby cheek. Dudley scrunched up his face.

"huh" He said, confused, before shrugging and running off in the direction of the swing with a shout of "Hey! i want to swing!!" at the young girl who was steps away from it. That boy really was just such a handful!,didn't have a bad bone in his body, a sweet child, a bright ball of energy.

The same could not be said for the potter boy, haunting her home and life, a beacon of what she could never be. A beacon of how Lily would always better then her. As if her thought had summoned him, she spotted the little devil shuffling his way over to her, he was nothing like any normal child of five should be, no there was nothing at all normal about him. He was far too quiet, plotting and scheming against her, she knew, against her new family.

He made people uncomfortable, and she couldn't blame them for it, there was just something inherently wrong about the child. Something evil.

The boy- Harrison, made his way over to her, a hesitant look on his too tan face. Something evil in his too green eye's- too Lily eyes.

"Hello aunt Petunia," He mumbled- and how she hated when children did that- when he did that. She narrowed her eyes at the boy, a sour taste in her mouth. 

"What do you want now?" she managed to bite out, causing the boy to flinch, and why was he flinching? she'd barely ever laid a hand on him. The boy said nothing but shuffled closer showing her his cupped palms. Petunia frowned, what was he up to now? Wasn't it enough that she had to deal with him on normal days? couldn't she enjoy this one day with her actual son, her actual family just this once? Did he always have to be a lurking shadow? reminding her of what she could never be? 

And then a flower- a Lily grew, actually grew from his hands. Her blood ran cold. No, no. She and Vernon had agreed- they'd agreed that they'd stomp the freakishness out of him- stomp the magic out of him. 

"What is this" She growled, almost whispering, the boy took a step back, a frown tugging at his too full lips. 

"Dudley- he- he gave you flowers. I wanted to- to give you flowers, since it's mummies day" He whimpered, eyes big and wide, a mock of innocence. 

She got to her feet, grabbing the boy's arm, causing him to jolt, his hands breaking apart. Sending the Lily fading away into nothing. 

"Dudley! come on, we are going home!" she shouted to her boy, sharper then intended, her sweet boy turned to her, a pout on his lips.

"But i don't want to go!" He whined, Petunia wouldn't shout- couldn't shout at her son so she resorted to digging her fingers into her nephew's arm, taking in a deep breathe.

"Come on Dudley we are leaving"

.-.-.-.-

1991- Present day.

Harry doesn't know how exactly he'd managed it, but he had.

He'd slipped away with the letter, his letter. He'd snuck it in his trousers, pressed against the waistband and the skin of his stomach. Then after giving his uncle the post he'd hurried back to his cupboard bedroom- his safe place. He stared down at his letter, reading and then re-reading the front.

'Hogwarts school for witchcraft and wizardry'

Witchcraft and wizardry. Magic. Harry knew it, he'd known if since he was small, since he'd turned his teacher's hair blue, since he'd learnt to grow flowers in the garden, and even out of his own hands, since he'd seemingly teleported onto the school roof. He knew it. He'd known it. Harry Potter- or rather Harrison James Potter is magic.

a genuine smile stretched onto his face, he knew it.

Harry sucked in a breathe, gently peeling open the envelope, careful not to damage it. He unfolded the letter, setting it under his small lamp, to be able to see it clearly.

Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizadry, 

 Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First class, Grand sorc.., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International confed. Of wizards)

Dear Mr H. Potter
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts school for witch craft and wizardry, please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1st, We await your owl by no later then the 31st of July.

Yours sincerely, Deputy Headmistress Minerva Mcgonagall