The Heir

Willow abruptly woke from the dark abyss of sleep to the sound of Dudley stomping his feet on the stairs right above her cupboard. She pulled her threadbare blanket over her head as his harsh stomping caused little bits of dust and debris to rain down on her, leaving a layer of white, not unlike fallen snow.

"It’s my birthday!" He yelled, trampling up and down the steps. Willow likened it to a herd of elephants with how much noise he made and how he shook the supports of the stairs underneath.

“Wake up wake up Wake UP!” Dudley made his way fully down the stairs and began pounding on her door. Willow groaned into her makeshift pillow, which was really just two threadbare towels stuffed inside an old pillowcase. All she wanted to do is stay in her cupboard and be left alone, but nonetheless she began to give herself her daily pep talk. That pep talk mainly consisted of variations of the same thing: the Dursleys would rather you were dead and so it is much more petty to live, which is why it would behoove you to get up.

She reached for the cord to her single light, struggling a little in the dark and yanked on the cord when her hand finally made contact with it. Willow let out another groan that was drowned out by the continuous pounding on her door as she was washed with a dim, flickering, yellow light.

She gained enough energy and will to get out of her bed and stand, though she couldn't straighten up all the way unless she wanted to bump her head against the slanted ceiling. No matter how short she was, her cupboard was not meant for an eleven year old.

She huffed in exasperation as she pulled on Aunt Petunia's old blouse over Aunt Petunia's ripped, decade old plain white camisole that she used both as an undershirt and as pyjamas. The blouse itself was a faded purple monstrosity that she seemed to swim in. To match, she pulled on a pair of Aunt Petunia’s old work jeans that were equally as ill-fitting. She looked into the mirror, an attempt by Aunt Petunia who had placed it in there to try to get Willow to look more presentable (Spoiler alert: it didn’t work), as she finished getting ready. She watched her reflection as she tucked the blouse into the jeans and belted the jeans as tight as they could go with Aunt Petunia’s equally old belt that she had had to cut more holes into. She leaned closer into the mirror to inspect her face and hair.

There was more banging on her door, however this time the voice that was yelling at her was Uncle Vernon. Willow startled before coming to the realization that she took too long to get ready. Cursing under her breath, she quickly braided her long black hair and rushed out of her cupboard.

Walls of a garish peach followed her as she walked through the hallway toward the dining room and the kitchen. However, instead of walking into their normal dining room, and getting a view of their normal dining table, she was greeted by the sight of a mountain of presents enveloping the table top and spilling over onto the floor around it. She scoffed when she saw that there was barely enough room for the Dursleys to sit and eat.

Willow walked past the table full of presents, looking straight ahead and trying very hard not to be bitter. Though she wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all herself. She was incredibly bitter, envious even, and she had every right to be, especially considering the gift she got for her birthday the year before. That gift was both memorable and forgettable as it was a toothbrush accompanied by the worst concussion she had had yet, courtesy of Uncle Vernon. The gift which she had forgotten until two weeks later when her memories from those surrounding days came back after being washed away by head trauma.

The moment she walked into the kitchen she was accosted by Aunt Petunia shoving a cookbook in her face. She took the book and started flipping through, already familiar with the routine that she would make whatever was marked on the pages. That is until she noticed that pages upon pages were marked. Willow's eyes widened, there was no way that they expected her to do this herself. Yes, she was good at cooking but, as she looked at the name of the cookbook, she wasn’t anywhere near Julia Child’s The French Chef level. Willow slowly drug her eyes away from her doom, or the cookbook in less melodramatic terms, to look at Aunt Petunia who had begun to speak.

"Our little Duddeykins wants a feast for his birthday and you're going to make it for him." Petunia said as she towered over Willow for a moment, beady blue eyes glaring at her before she leaned in closer to whisper in Willow’s ear.

"And if it's not perfect," she continued, "you'll be locked in the cupboard for months. No food, no water, not even bathroom breaks. Are we clear?" Willow gulped and nodded her head.

"Crystal clear Aunt Petunia."

Petunia straightened up to stare Willow down once more, attempting to glare her into submission before she left her side. Willow glanced at the book in despair as she set it on the kitchen counter, the red book standing out like an omen against the grey of the granite counters.

There's no way I'll be able to cook all of this, she thought to herself morosely. Luckily, they'll be gone most of the day, so if I do mess up, they might not notice.

After much deliberation, Willow decided that it would be easiest to make the cake first, she could make the other dishes as it baked and cooled. She began to gather the supplies and ingredients and said a quick blessing to whatever higher power that was in control for the simple fact that she did not have to make breakfast this time around. Willow rummaged through the fridge, grabbing eggs, butter, and heavy whipping cream. Closing the fridge door, she jumped at seeing Harry standing there, a silent observer.

"Hey," she said with a nonchalant air that covered her confusion about why he was here instead of watching Dudley open his presents.

He didn’t respond at first and just stood there looking at her with plain green eyes that seemed to look right through Willow.

Confused and unsure, Willow turned away from her brother and began to arrange the ingredients into piles of things that were needed for the cake itself, the filling, and the icing.

"Are you going to be able to make everything?" He asked curiously, his green eyes looking over the kitchen, which widened when he noticed the sheer amount of marked tabs in the cookbook.

Willow sighed and began combining ingredients according to the recipe, not even bothering to turn around to face Harry as she replied.

"I guess we'll both find out when you guys get back."

She knew she was going to stay home while they went to celebrate Dudley's birthday. She always did, even when her and Harry's birthday came around. They would go and celebrate Harry, but never her. Instead she would be given a laundry list of chores that were to be completed before they got back and Mrs. Figg would come over to make sure Willow didn’t burn the house down. It was a smart move on the Durley family’s part, getting Mrs. Figg to watch over her. Not only did the crazy old lady seem to ignore any abuse, but the old bat was the only thing that stopped Willow from actually burning down the house a couple of times.

"Too much of a freak," the Dursleys would tell her when she asked. That was when she was younger, she knew her place in the Dursley household now. It used to sting and Willow would spend those nights in her cupboard crying. But what hurt the worst then and still hurt to this day was Harry’s treatment of her. While Harry never said anything to agree with the Dursleys, he had never denied their words either. He never really did anything to stop any sort of abuse. She didn't really blame him, he was young and couldn’t stop what was going on, especially in the face of Uncle Vernon, but Willow still craved support, no matter how small, from her brother. In a way, she understood. He was being treated just as well as Dudley, and she knew her twin well enough by now that he would never do anything to jeopardize his good treatment, even if that meant leaving her on the floor after a beating from Uncle Vernon. However, just because she understood, didn't mean that she didn't feel hurt and betrayed by it. Some people’s resentment of their siblings came later in life, in their teens or well into adulthood, Willow’s resentment and anger started at age seven.

When they were younger he used to sneak her scraps of food if she was locked in her cupboard for more than a week, he didn't do it often and he stopped sneaking anything to her as soon as he cemented his place in the Dursley family at that age of seven.
Her punishments were harsh and reoccurring, especially considering the fact that things tended to… happen around her. Willow was convinced that it was magic with how much Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon claimed that there was no such thing as magic any time something unexplainable happened. She never did anything on purpose, and it wasn't anything bad, usually. However, when she let her emotions get the best of her, things tended to happen.

She remembered, one year, losing her cool and screaming at Dudley and the next moment the kitchen lights exploded. The Dursleys saw it happen, she had gotten angry and BAM! The lights went out and glass went everywhere. Willow didn’t remember what she had been screaming about, but she vividly remembered her punishment. She had gotten two months in the cupboard for that. She had also acquired a pretty nasty scar on her leg that same night. Uncle Vernon had gotten so angry that, when he threw her into the cupboard after a caning session, she hit the corner of her small dresser so hard that she managed to get a huge gash on her leg. She had to take care of it and the caning welts herself, and, as a result, the scar that came from it was huge and hideous.

Like most other things though, she adapted. She had a mask of indifference that she put on when dealing with the Dursleys. Icy acid green eyes looked emotionlessly over the Dursleys’ shoulders any time they spoke to her, zeroing in on a specific item and clearing her mind of any emotion. This strategy prevented most incidents, considering these ‘incidents’ only happened while she was too emotional.

Willow shook her head to clear the thoughts that were beginning to collect like cobwebs and went back to mixing the cake, having not realized that she had stopped while lost in her thoughts. Simultaneously she ignored the fit that Dudley was throwing over his birthday presents, focusing on that would only make her angry. She continued the approach of ignoring everything around her until Aunt Petunia came back into the kitchen after leaving to answer the phone, white as a ghost. Willow set the mixing bowl aside as everyone else turned to look at Aunt Petunia as well, curious as to what could have shaken the woman so badly.

"That was Mrs. Figg," her aunt said to Uncle Vernon, her voice trembling,"Sh-she has the flu, and can't watch Willow."

The soon to be eleven year old watched Vernon's fat face turn an ugly shade of puce and Dudley screamed out his denial.

"No, she can't go, she'll ruin everything!"

He continued to scream, his face getting redder and redder, just like his father’s, for another hour as Petunia attempted to find a last minute sitter. The screaming from Dudley and the last ditch attempts by her Aunt didn't do them much good, considering an hour later found the Dursleys, Harry, and Willow packed into the Dursleys' car on their way to the zoo.

The drive to the zoo was awkward to say the least but, no matter how many insults Dudley threw under his breath or looks that Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon gave her, Willow refused to react in any way. Refused to speak even, and stared out of the car window the entire time, watching the landscape pass by. She was finally leaving the house for something other than school or errands that her Aunt was too lazy to do. She wouldn't dare mess up arguably the best day of her life thus far. With Willow’s resolve and the icy and unhappy silence in the car, the ride there was excruciatingly tense.

When they arrived at the zoo, Willow noticed that another person was going to celebrate Dudley's birthday with them, his friend Pierce, who had shown up to meet them at the entrance of the zoo. Willow groaned inwardly and wanted to fade into the background even more than she already did. Aside from Dudley, Pierce was the one who picked on her most, and just like with her cousin, Harry did nothing to prevent or join in on Pierce’s bullying. While the two boys were similar in their bully personality, that's where their similarities ended. Dudley was a whale, all fat and blubber really. And while Pierce was no stick either, he was all muscle, which was probably gained by pummeling other unfortunate children in the neighborhood. Whenever they ganged up on her, which thankfully was not super often, there were advantages to being skinny while also doing heavy duty chores, there was a lot of weight and force behind each punch or kick. Thankfully, the presence of Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon and the zoo itself was enough for no one to pay her any mind. She liked it like that, at least, if she was in the background she was safe.

They all lined up to grab their tickets. During the wait Uncle Vernon roughly grabbed her by the arm and pulled her aside. He bent down so he was eye to eye with Willow and whispered harshly, his grip on her arms bruising.

"No funny business. If anything happens," he growled "anything at all, there'll be no meals. Until Christmas. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon." Her voice was soft, not wanting to bring some sort of wrath against her for whatever reason. Her Aunt and Uncle were not feeling generous towards her today. Normally she could get through the day without a cupboard threat, on a bad day there was one extreme threat. Only horrid days had more than that, and each of those days, no matter what she did to prevent it, something would happen where they would make good on those threats.

As the small group walked through the zoo, Willow made the conscious effort to stay two or three exhibits behind the rest of them. It wasn't that hard. The Dursleys and Pierce liked to go through the animals, seeing and gawking for a minute and then moving on, but she enjoyed reading the plaques and signs about each animal. They saw the big cats first, Harry and Dudley loved the lions, but to Willow, they weren't all that impressive, though she dutifully read the plaques about them and tried to guess which name belonged to which lion. They went from there to the rest of the African animals, followed by the primates, which Willow enjoyed thoroughly, and so on. She was really enjoying her day, and it only got better when social rules forced Uncle Vernon to buy her an ice cream when they bought some for the boys. It did help that the cashier specifically asked Vernon what she was going to get. It was a single scoop of plain vanilla but, at that moment, Willow had never had anything more delicious in her entire life.

Their last stop was the reptile room. As soon as Willow stepped into the building, she let out a sigh of happiness. After the heat outside , the cool air conditioning felt nice, not to mention the dimmed lights and quiet ambiance made her feel at peace. She was able to clear her mind and breathe in the sense of calm that the Reptile Room gave off. Dudley, Harry, and Pierce went straight to the big snakes and lizards. Though they did stop occasionally to look at the smaller but more poisonous snakes. Willow, however, was content to go to each exhibit and read about the different reptiles. She ignored Dudley as he yelled at one of the snakes, trying to get it to move. She ignored him even when he brought Uncle Vernon to try to get it to move, both of them resorting to banging on the glass.

Willow rolled her eyes and went through the smaller snake exhibits, taking her sweet time, before getting to the big ones. She took the time and effort to read each information panel and made an attempt to find each and every reptile in its terrarium. She probably spent a good five minutes alone searching for the chameleons in their enclosure. Her favorite of the small snakes was a bright green grass snake that practically preened at the attention that Willow was giving it, moving around the branches of his little fake tree.

"That's the most I've seen that snake move in the past couple days." Willow resisted the urge to jump and turned to face the voice as it chuckled.

It was one of the zookeepers, according to the khaki uniform she wore. Willow smiled at the lady who smiled back, brown eyes crinkling at the corners, and talked to her about the snakes, asking question after question. The zookeeper, Peggy, talked animatedly about each of the snakes and Willow listened with growing interest as they talked about proper care for the snakes and the temperament of each snake. When they ended their conversation, Willow had run out of questions and the zookeeper had to go feed other animals, she had a whole arsenal of new snake facts to remember.

She continued her snake odyssey after saying goodbye to Peggy and read the plaque of the next snake that she walked up to. It was one of the larger snakes that the zoo had, a Pit Viper, or at least that's what the plaque said.

"You're such a beautiful girl, aren't you?" Willow cooed.

The snake was bright green in color and, even though she wasn't as large as the Boa that Harry was looking at, she was still quite large. Six whole meters, according to the plaque

"You're quite big too, I bet most people find you scary." Willow continued. Her eyes widened as the snake made eye contact with her and winked.

"Can you... understand me?" she asked the snake incredulously. The snake nodded in response and slithered closer to the glass. Its green body uncoiling from the position it was in and stretching out.

Dudley noticed that the snake was moving and yelled at Pierce and Harry to come look at it. Once the three of them reached the enclosure, Dudley resumed his assault on the glass, pounding on it and yelling at the snake. Willow sighed and shook her head.

"I'm sorry about them, but you probably get that a lot, don't you? Does it bother you?" The snake nodded and rolled its eyes.

"You don't deserve that, nobody does." Willow mumbled under her breath.

She stood at the other end of the enclosure’s glass and was able to ignore the yelling, but Dudley came over towards her in an attempt to see the snake better.

"Move out of the way!" He yelled.

He pushed Willow over and leaned in to press his face up against the glass. From the floor, she sent a glare over in Dudley's general direction and watched in shock as the glass from the enclosure disappeared and Dudley fell in. Willow had to hold in her laughter as the glass appeared again after the Viper took the chance and left the enclosure. Instead of watching the spectacle that was Dudley, she watched the Viper slither around, heading for the door. Only it stopped by Willow. The girl propped herself up on her elbows and looked at the snake as it stared back at her.

"Thanksssss for freeing me," the snake hissed. Willow blinked a couple of times, to process the fact that the snake talked to her.

"You're welcome." She responded, polite to the snake even in her confusion.

The snake nodded its head at her as a goodbye and made its way to the door, slipping out when it finally opened, leaving a trail of panicked visitors and zookeepers in its wake.

After a good thirty minutes of panic, scrambling, and crying on everybody's, but especially Dudley's, part, the zookeepers finally got him out of the enclosure. They profusely apologized as Willow and the group were escorted out of the zoo. Aunt Petunia was paler than usual and shaking. The state of her only made the owner of the zoo apologize even more.

"We have no idea how he fell in. The glass was there before and after he fell. The Zookeepers said it was like magic." The owner laughed nervously.

The owner was a short, skinny man, and seemed to be very intimidated by the sheer size of Vernon Dursley. It would've been funny to Willow, watching the man try, and fail, to stand up to her Uncle had he not practically signed her death warrant. The moment he said the ‘forbidden word’ Uncle Vernon leveled a glare at her, black beady eyes promising pain upon pain. Vernon Dursley already had an idea of who was to blame, but the owner's comment sealed it for him.

The ride home was more excruciating than the ride there. Everyone was silent, and Willow noticed that anytime Uncle Vernon looked at her in his rear view mirror his face turned a nasty shade of purple. Other than that, Uncle Vernon held everything in and was surprisingly calm during the drive back to Number 4 Privet Drive.

That was a good sign, Willow hoped in her mind. If he stayed calm during the drive, her punishment might be less harsh, though she knew it was only wishful thinking. They pulled into their driveway and he corralled everyone into their normal little two story house. Once inside Petunia and Dudley quickly made their way into the normal kitchen and Harry escaped upstairs to his normal bedroom.

And Willow?

Willow got a beating in the Dursley’s normal living room.

Uncle Vernon shouted at her and beat her for half an hour until he was red in the face before throwing her into the cupboard under the stairs. She heard the sound of the lock engaging and sighed, before wincing as it clearly strained bruised ribs. She knew that she would be here a while, but something seemed off and she couldn't put her finger on it.

It wasn't until that night as she lay in bed that she figured it out.

Uncle Vernon was afraid.