Here’s another one-shot that I’ve finally just decided to post. My other stories will be updated soon, I promise.

I hope you enjoy!

I………………………I

Darkest Days

It was an ordinary day at Number Four, Privet Dive. Petunia Dursley was busy cleaning her house, making sure that everything was spotless for when her husband got home for dinner.

As she sighed to herself, she finished dusting the pictures of her precious son, Dudley. She couldn’t believe how grown up and handsome he had gotten. She was sure that he would grow into a mature young man.

If you looked around the living room- the whole house for that matter, you would never see any pictures of her nephew, Harry. If you were just a visitor you wouldn’t even think her nephew lived with her. Well, for that summer at least.

Petunia had made a promise to herself a long time ago that she would never have any pictures of her freak nephew in her house- ever.

She shuttered at the thought of what would happen if someone saw them.

Walking back into the kitchen she put away her cleaning tools and put a pot of tea on the stove, starting to make herself a cup of tea.

A few minutes later, she sat at the table with her tea in hand, sipping it occasionally.

She was jerked out of her thoughts when a large black owl came swooping in through her open window. Looking at the letter with disgust, she started to open it, knowing, that the letter contained the date and time that she had to pick Harry up from the station in a week. Luckily this was his last year and he would soon be out of her hair forever.

To her surprise the letter was not the dates to pick Harry up, but a letter from Harry’s headmaster; Dumbledore.

Dear Petunia,

It is my greatest condolences to say that your nephew, Harry, has passed away. He died last night during the final battle with the Dark Lord- Voldemort, whom I presume you already know about from you dear sister Lily- he had taken her life too.

Harry defeated the Dark Lord last night- risking his life. Harry has accomplished the unimaginable and I bet you could never be prouder of him.

His death is a terrible loss to the wizarding world and we tried everything to revive him from the curse that Voldemort had thrown at him, but we were too late. There was nothing we could do, he died as the second the curse hit him. His death caused Voldemort to die at the same time. We suspect that they both had too much of each others blood in the other to live without the other alive.

It may be complicated, but I’m sure you don’t want to hear the rest of the horrific details.

Harry was one of the most brave, courageous, kind wizards I’ve even gotten the pleasure to meet. I almost felt like a grandfather towards him.

Harry had two of the most wonderful friends you could ever have the pleasure to meet... They never acted differently around him because of the fame he was constantly surrounded with under the wizarding world. They made him feel like Harry for once, and not the famous ‘boy who lived.’

There isn’t much left to say in this letter. I’m sure you don’t want to hear any more morbid news.

I just wanted to let you know that we will be having a funeral for Harry this Saturday at 1 o’clock at Hogwarts. That’s where he wanted it too be- nothing too fancy. We hope that you will join us on this sad occasion. I’m sure Harry would of wanted you to be there.

My greatest condolences,

Albus Dumbledore

P.S. The owl has a sack of floo powder-take it. I know you know how to use it.

Petunia glanced at the paper, some words blurred from obvious tears the author had been releasing as he wrote the letter.

Petunia was shocked. Was Harry really dead? She thought to herself.

A few shameful tears flowed down her cheeks. Petunia couldn’t believe that she was crying over her dead nephew that she’d hated ever since she’d set eyes on him.

She should be glad that she would never have to put up with him again. But at the same time these thoughts ran through her head, she felt as if something had been ripped from her heart- torn into a million pieces, never to be replaced again.

Petunia didn’t count the hours that she sat there at the table, re-reading the letter or just sitting there thinking of all the memories she had with Harry, even if they weren’t good ones.

Hearing the door slam, she saw her husband and son walk into the room with confused looks on their faces at seeing Petunia sitting at the table with tear streaks running down her cheeks, no dinner set at the table.

“What’s the matter Pet?” inquired Mr. Dursley as he walked to the table and wrapped his arms around Petunia, trying to find out what the source of the problem was.

“Oh, it’s nothing that you would care to know,” resigned Petunia, having no implications of letting her husband see that she had been crying over her dead nephew.

“Pet, let me see what that letter says,” he demanded while pulling it out of her weak hands.

She watched as his eyes scanned the letter, a smile forming on his face.

“This is great! This is the best news I’ve had for a while. Pet, why were you crying? We should be celebrating. That freak nephew of yours is dead,” said Vernon happily while jubilantly walking over to the cabinet, no doubt for a glass of wine.

Petunia heard Dudley gasp as the newly formed news, and sadly saw his lips form a wide smile, “Can I have my room back? He’s been in there far too long.”

Glancing at her husband and son she responded in a quiet voice, “I’m not feeling too well, dear. I think I’ll go upstairs for a nap. There should be some leftovers in the fridge for dinner.”

Before Vernon or Dudley could answer her, she was halfway up the stairs. Instead of going into her room for a nap like she had told them, she took a different route into Harry’s room.

Opening the door, she was greeted with a small bare bedroom with only a bed, desk, and a dresser.

If anyone walked into this room they would have no idea that it was her nephew’s. It looked just like a normal guest bedroom; Harry never left any of his belongings at Privet Drive while he was away.

A few more tears poured from her eyes and down her cheeks. She knew what she was feeling- it was guilt.

Ever since she had read the letter from Dumbledore she couldn’t stop remembering all of the memories she had of her nephew. But the only problem was that every single one of them was horrible.

There wasn’t one memory where she had treated Harry like a decent child. A child who needed to be comforted- a child who just wanted to be loved.

She had done everything that she could possibly imagine; wrong. She hadn’t treated him like an human being she had treated him like a-freak.

Lying down on Harry’s bed, she drew in a sharp breath as she felt all of the painful springs jab into her back. How could Harry live like this and never complain?

Not Once.

Surveying the room, she noticed the dents in the walls from the time they had put the bars on his window. She shuttered at the thought of how much of a prisoner he must have felt with bars and locks.

He must have never considered this place home.

More tears started to roll down her cheeks, and she couldn’t stop them.

A flood of guilt had passed through her since she had read the letter and the more she thought about it, the more guilty she felt.

She fell into a troubled sleep muttering the same thing over and over again, “I’m sorry Harry. I’m sorry.”

I……………………

I hope you like it, I’m nervous I was going to make it longer, but I just didn’t know what to do. Anyways, please review.

Also, I’m almost done with my second chapter to ‘When You Past Comes to Haunt You’ and should be posting that soon. Then, I will write my final chapter to ‘Love is More Powerful Than Fear.’

Enjoy!