Love Him?

“Sweetie,” Vernon called.

Petunia turned from preparing Dudley for bed to see him crouched on the floor and holding Harry’s short fringe up. Her eyes widened; his forehead was inflamed and so puffy that he could barely open his right eye, and angry, red lines were spreading out from under the bandage. “Oh, sweet Jesus.” She hurriedly placed Dudley back on the floor and rushed over to kneel beside him.

“He can barely see,” Vernon whispered, and Petunia could see his hands shaking. He was terrified. So was she. Harry blinked up at them, waving a blue block around obliviously.

“We need to do something,” she muttered, breathing harshly through her nose in an attempt to quell the seething rage in her stomach. “We- our hospitals can’t fix this.”

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. 

Petunia gritted her teeth, understanding the unsaid question. “We have to.” She reached over and gently pulled up the bandage on his forehead, wincing at the raw flesh that was revealed. Harry grumbled and she soothed him absently as she pulled up the rest of the bandage and went pale. The lightning bolt shape on his forehead was almost completely obscured within an angry yellow sore, and she could feel heat radiating off the area. She gasped helplessly, “Oh, fuck, it’s infected. We’re going to London now.”

“Okay,” Vernon said immediately, gathering Harry into his arms and standing. Petunia joined him, scooping Dudley up as well, and gently taped the bandage back onto Harry’s forehead. “Where in London?”

“Charing Cross.” She felt sick at the thought of it, but a child was suffering, and it no longer mattered that the child had Lily’s eyes. He was in such obvious pain, despite his lack of reaction to it, and it was getting worse by the minute. There was only one option, no matter how Petunia felt about it. “We need to go to the Wizarding Bank.”

Vernon shot her a confused look from where he was herding Trumpet into the backyard. “Bank?”

She sighed, gathering her handbag and pulling on her shoes one-handed. “I’ve only been there once, but the beings that run it- they’re not human, love, and they can heal. The professor that took Lily around that world told me.” She scowled as she picked Dudley back up; that professor was violently racist and disgusted her to no end, but at least that racism led to the man ranting to her all he knew about the beings, even though she had to parse through unbearable bias to reach anything useful.

Vernon swallowed. “Do you think they would be willing to look at Harry?” The boy in question grimaced in discomfort as he bumped his head gently into Vernon’s chest.

“I don’t know,” she said, feeling suddenly helpless. “They hate wizards, and for good reason.”

“Lucky we aren’t wizards, then, huh?”

Petunia shook her head. “I doubt it makes a difference in this case, love.”

“We should at least try,” Vernon said softly, picking up his keys. “If they say no, then we’ll go somewhere else. Do you know how late they’re open?”

“Okay,” she said stiffly, opening the front door. “I think they’re open all night.”

“You’re being very brave, darling.” Vernon buckled Harry into a spare car seat as she strapped Dudley in, and he smiled at her. 

“Bravery is not what this is.”

He gave a sceptical hum. “I disagree, but I also don’t live in your head. So what’s on your mind, love?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again as no words came, pulling the car door shut a little too hard. “I have no idea what I’m doing.” She glanced at Vernon with a teary eye. “I just wish- wish that he were here, he’d know what to do, but he’s…”

Vernon swallowed, starting the car. “Love, please give yourself more credit. I don’t doubt that he’d be helpful, but you’re doing amazing on your own. Harry will be okay.”

Petunia wiped her eyes and nodded. “Thank you. I just…wish he’d write back.”

“It’s only been a few hours, sweetheart.”

“I know,” she whispered, “but it’s killing me, not knowing if he’s alive or dead.”

Vernon took her hand gently in one of his own as he drove down the lane and onto the main street of the town. She could tell he didn’t know what to say, but the comfort the action brought her made her continue. 

“The war might not even be over.”

He hummed. “The letter from the stalker said the leader of the ‘dark side’--” Petunia could hear his dislike of the moniker in his voice– “was dead.”

“We both know that means nothing in this case,” she said bitterly, glancing back at the sleeping toddlers. Dudley’s pudgy hand had made its way into Harry’s, who clung back just as eagerly in his sleep. She sighed. “I just want to know if he’s okay.”

“Me too,” Vernon said, squeezing her hand again. “I’d like to meet the guy that made your childhood a little easier.”

Petunia laughed wetly. “I think you’d get along.”

“I hope so.” 

“He was a bit of a jerk, you know. A well-meaning jerk, but a jerk. Another thing you have in common,” she teased.

“The best people are,” Vernon chuckled, poking her leg.

They fell into a companionable silence, bar the noise of tires on tarmac, until Petunia twisted to check on the boys in the backseat and felt guilt rise in her throat. “Harry deserves so much better than us,” she whispered.

“Maybe, but he’s with us now, and we’re doing our best,” Vernon reminded her gently. “No need to worry about what could be.”

“I- I know. I just…what if we’re not good enough?”

“We’re good enough for Dudley, so we’ll be good enough for Harry.”

Petunia took this in. “Okay.”

Minutes passed as the trees and barren hills slowly turned into sparse houses, then suburbs, and finally the sprawling metropolis of London. Petunia made an unhappy noise at the twisting in her gut and sighed, “For Harry.”

The boy in question whined a little from the back seat, clearly unhappy about waking up from the look of his scowl. Petunia leaned around her seat to smooth out his hair, carefully avoiding touching the bandage. “It’s okay, sweetheart. We’re almost there. It’ll stop hurting soon.”

Harry opened his eyes, blinking as she barely resisted a flinch at the green sight, and reached out the hand not clinging to Dudley. Petunia felt her heart break a little as she reached back and his little fingers grasped hers. He made a little noise, blinking unhappily as he bumped his forehead on his car seat.

A tear threatened to fall down her cheek, but she swiped it away angrily, instead gently making sure the bandage was secure. “It’ll stop hurting soon, baby. I promise.” Her heart was filled with fear that she wouldn’t be able to fulfil her promise. Harry hadn’t spoken a word in the whole time he’d been with them, while Dudley was babbling sentences that she could almost understand. He was hurting, and his green eyes were filled with tears.

Petunia gasped as Harry’s face scrunched up and he began to cry in earnest, and she reached awkwardly for him around her seat. Vernon pulled over quickly as Petunia scrambled to pull him out of the car and onto her hip.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she held him, rocking him gently. “Lily, what have you done?”

Harry wailed into her shoulder, gripping her hair tightly. Petunia felt some of it part with her skull, but she ignored it; the pain was nothing compared to the ache in her heart. She helplessly soothed him, whispering nonsense into his hair as she tried not to cry. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you, shh,” she rambled.

As Harry slowly calmed, Vernon looked up from where he was ensuring Dudley wouldn’t wake up. Thankfully, the blonde boy was snoring away in his car seat. Her husband kissed her on the cheek. Harry was still crying quietly into her soaked shirt, but he seemed to be falling asleep, his breathing evening out. Slowly, gently, she lowered him from her shoulder into her arms, cradling him as though he were a newborn. Dudley gave a snore from the car, and she sobbed a little chuckle.

“Let’s get back into the car, love,” Vernon whispered, and he opened the door so Petunia could bend to tenderly strap Harry into his seat. The tiny boy’s puffy eyes were closed, and his whimpers had petered out into soft, steady breathing. Petunia sighed with relief and she slipped back into the passenger seat. Vernon closed the back door as quietly as he could before joining her in the front, and soon the rumble of the car soothed the toddlers into a deeper sleep.

Neither parent dared to speak for fear of waking them. Petunia fiddled with her handbag, staring at the road signs as they passed. 5 miles to the city centre, said the nearest. Vernon hummed a quiet, made-up tune as the car turned into Charing Cross. He pulled into a nearby parking lot, smiling at a tense Petunia.

“Let’s go, Pet.”

Petunia didn’t reply; she didn’t trust herself not to throw up. Instead, she eased Harry out of his car seat and held him to her chest, smoothing his hair over the sore on his face. Looking around, her eyes quickly found a dingy pub, its badly-lit sign creaking in the breeze. She caught Vernon’s hand and pointed at the Leaky Cauldron. “It’s there. It’s hidden if you haven’t been there before, so I might have to lead you in.”

Vernon blinked hard, then shook his head with a laugh. “It’s like it doesn’t want me to look at it. The dirty pub, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s go, then.” With that, Vernon set off at a rapid pace. Petunia laughed in disbelief as she scrambled to catch up with him.

“You’re just going to go in? Just like that?”

Vernon made a face at her. “How else would I do it?”

The door chimed as they entered, and Petunia tensed as faces turned to stare. She took a bracing breath and turned up her nose, sneering at them. Vernon followed her lead, adopting a rather startling snooty look that she tried hard not to laugh at. Slowly, the faces turned away, and they became just another couple in a dingy pub. Petunia sighed in relief.

“Excuse me,” she murmured, catching the grizzled barman’s attention. He blinked at her, and then he smiled.

“Need to get into the Alley, then?”

Petunia nodded as he bustled out from behind the bar and led them into the tiny courtyard behind the pub. He drew a wand from his pocket, rapped it sharply against a brick in the opposite wall, and grinned as it unfolded. Vernon gaped. Through the rapidly forming archway, a cobbled street lined with buildings leaning at impossible angles could be seen, lit with floating lights that made them shine in the darkness. Groups of multicoloured hats bobbed through the alley as their owners wandered from shop to shop. She felt a little green.

Vernon leaned towards her ear. “They have wands?” 

Petunia felt her nausea drain away at the incredulous comment. “Wands, flying broomsticks, cauldrons– they have it all, love.”

He gaped at her, clutching a still-sleeping Dudley to his chest as magic flew around him. Petunia pointed to a massive marble building looming above the Alley, ghostly against the backdrop of the sky. “That’s the bank. Remember, they’re not human, and you shouldn’t stare.”

Vernon nodded firmly. “No staring. Got it.”

“Good.” With that, she led him, weaving down the Alley.