Chapter Text
It could be said that Petunia Evans was a creature of habit. If you asked Petunia herself, she’d have said she was a creature in a pleasant and benign rut. Each morning, she awoke at 7:15, dressed in a simple but well maintained flowy skirt and sweater set, and made herself some tea and toast. After seeing to her makeup and hair, she then left for her job as a legal secretary arriving at 8:30 and worked until 5:00. Petunia returned home from her job at exactly 5:45 and started her supper at 6:00. After supper, she would work on her knitting or embroidery while watching whatever mystery series she was currently catching up on. On the weekends, she would grocery shop, repair any clothes that needed it, make jam, and work on her garden. Once a month, she would go to the farmers market and trade her homemade treats for vegetables and fresh herbs and pick up the small luxuries her well-paying job afforded her. Her life wasn’t boring or unhappy, it was just….. a bit repetitive.
Petunia sighed quietly to herself as she ate the remains of her chicken salad and drank her water. She looked around the faded yellow wallpaper that decorated the kitchen of her childhood home. After losing both her parents in a car crash three years ago and then losing her infant son Dudley to SIDS a year later, Petunia had emotionally withdrawn from most of her life, leaving her brute of a husband and her former home at Privet Drive far behind her and taking up residence back in Cokeworth. Her life was simple and peaceful and really she had it better than most but yet, there were moments where Petunia found herself wanting more. A child, a partner, a home filled with noise and mess and life, or maybe just someone to help make her life a little less tedious. Someone to share dinner with and jokingly argue about what flowers to plant in the garden this summer. Someone to read with and have tea with and have picnics under the wisteria tree in the park. Someone to make a home with.
Then again, given how well the whole housewife thing worked out for her, maybe starting small would work better. Vernon had not been a person who she could have made a home with. He had been loud and arrogant and rather cruel to anyone he deemed deserving of it, most days that being her. Petunia sighed again. Maybe she should just get a cat, or a bird or maybe just a plant. She brushed a honey coloured curl behind her ear and turned her cornflower blue eyes towards the kitchen clock. 7:45, and honestly a little later than she normally finished her supper but sometimes a break in the pattern can be good. Petunia smiled to herself and quickly finished her meal. Stretching her arms out, she placed her dishes into the sink, and was about to wash them when she heard a knock on her door. ‘Odd’ Petunia thought to herself, ‘Who would be visiting at this hour?’ shortly followed by the slightly more depressing thought of ‘Who would be visiting me?’
Her fingers nervously gripped the edge of her lilac cardigan, pulling the stretched out sleeves over her hands in her usual habit. Petunia walked towards her porch and opened the door. Instead of seeing another person, Petunia was greeted by a little wicker basket filled with a fuzzy green blanket and a letter. Suddenly a feeling of dread filled the pit of her stomach. With shaking hands, Petunia plucked the letter from the folds of the blanket and pulled back the soft fabric, only to be greeted by a small pair of forest green eyes peering into her own. It was a baby. A baby with eyes a shade of green that Petunia had only ever seen on two people in her life. Her late father and…. Lily. Petunia quickly tore open the letter and read through the content written on thick creamy parchment, desperate for some explanation of why a baby had been abandoned here alone. Lily would have never allowed her baby to be left alone. Petunia felt tears well up as she finished reading and the dread from earlier seemed to overtake her body. She felt her knees shake and she flopped to the ground as the tears fell. Her baby sister was dead. Her baby sister had been murdered and her husband killed as well. Petunia Evans was alone in the world. Although her and Lily hadn’t been close, it was heartbreaking to know that now, that would never change. Petunia had hoped to one day pluck up her courage and find some way to contact Lily in her strange world and if not make amends with her sister, then to at least find closure. Now, that small hope was gone, just like Lily. A faint whine broke through Petunia’s grieving. The baby, Lily’s baby, her niece, was starting to fuss. Petunia gingerly got up, ignoring the ache in her knees and carefully picked up the squirming little girl.
The letter had said her niece’s name was Flora. Lily had always wanted to continue their family tradition of floral names. A sudden memory of spending evenings in front of the telly with Lily and writing down potential flower names for their future children bubbled up against Petunia’s wishes. Lily had loved the names Flora and Rose, whereas Petunia had wanted to name her first daughter Hyacinth. Lily used to tease her, saying it was too big of a name for a little baby. Tears started again, burning their way down her face. Petunia took a deep breath and forced herself to focus on the present situation. There would be time to grieve later, but right now Flora needed her. Cradling the little girl to her chest, Petunia took a moment to study the child. Although she had Lily’s eyes, most of her features seemed to come from Petunia's grandmother Briallen. A small button nose, freckled, and honey blonde curls. Much like Petunia herself.
Although still reeling from the sudden upset, Petunia felt a small bit of pride cut through the pain. It was nice to have someone else who looked like her, to know that her beloved grandmother’s curls and freckles would be passed down. The letter had said that Petunia was the only family left from either side. While that may be true, Petunia made a note to speak to her boss on monday and go over the legalities of this situation. She would allow no one to take Flora from her. Maybe this was Petunia’s chance, maybe she wouldn’t have to be alone anymore. Petunia took a deep breath, and gave her little niece a weak but kind smile.
“Hello Flora, I am your Aunt Petunia. It’s lovely to meet you.” The little girl looked up at Petunia and quietly whispered back
“Ann Tuney?” Petunia felt her heart melt and break at the same time, remembering the nickname Lily called her until their epic rows started and nodded.
“Yes dear, I’m Aunt Tuney. Let’s get you inside” Balancing the toddler in one hand and grabbing the basket in the other, Petunia and Flora went back inside the house.
From the grey brick wall on the street, a tabby cat with an odd spectacle pattern on her face watched the whole scene carefully, tail twitching and eyes shining. Pacing her way down the wall, the cat gracefully walked closer to the house she had just been surveying. Hopping up onto the windowsill, the cat saw Petunia hugging Flora close to her, and curling up on the sofa with some muggle children’s show playing. Perhaps, the cat thought, this was the right place for Flora after all. Satisfied, the cat jumped back down, and with intention to return, disappeared.