Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me, and I gain no profit from this.A/N: Petunia (strangely) has always been one of the characters that I liked well enough. I think that she did care for Harry, but that she saw him as a representation of the very things/people that had taken Lily away from her. I wanted this fic to somewhat explore that.
Petunia blew her nose lightly again, thinking over how sweet her Dudders had been to Harry. To his cousin that Vernon (and her, she'll admit some blame) had tried to condition Dudley to hate. Maybe just because it would have been easier if Dudley hated his cousin. Well, Petunia thinks, we obviously failed with that one.
She heard the footsteps walking away and hurriedly blew her nose a few more times before looking up, only to find herself alone in a room with her nephew.
She can't help herself (although she tries to) from glancing over him head to toe. His clothes aren't as baggy as they once were, his hair is the same (and merlin does she hate that hair), his scar remains the same shape, and of course, his eyes haven't changed a bit. Looking into them is like looking into the ghost of her sister.
She'll always love Lily. She may have called her a "freak," but that did not change the fact that Lily was her own flesh and blood. Besides, it was that terrible boy that had tainted Lily. Her sister before that was whole and pure. Until that Snape boy came along, Lily was Lily.
Looking into Harry's eyes for what may be the last time she had the sudden urge to sit down and tell him everything. She knows it's a foolish thought, because they don't have the time for a conversation like that. But nonetheless, she wants to tell him. About how her and Lily use to be the best friends, about the day when Lily met Snape, how she wrote to Hogwarts asking if she could be a witch too, about the dreadful day when she called Lily a "freak", about how her and Lily never repaired their relationship, about how Lily was remarkable with magic, about how during her first four summer breaks her and that boy were inseparable, about how after Lily's fifth year she moped about in the house, about how Snape never came over again (and Petunia was glad), about how Lily fell in love with James, about how they got married, how they had him, about the letters and the presents her and Lily used to exchange, about how she really did cry when her sister died, and about the reasons behind everything she's ever done to him.
Perhaps her nephew can sense that there's something she wants to say, because it hovers in the air between them unspoken.
Petunia turns and walks out the door.
She'll know at least. She'll know the truth.
And yes, he did deserve to know that same truth. She could feel the questions sitting on his tongue, wanting to be asked, but forbidden to be spoken. And she could feel her sister behind that stare, calling to her through green eyes fed with hatred, asking her for the truth. But she had long since stopped being honest with her sister. And she would not now be honest with her son. (No matter the color of his eyes).
Petunia climbed in the car, settling herself between her husband and her son. Dudley did not ask further questions about the boy, and Vernon did not ask what had taken her so long. As her house disappeared from view, she wonders if she'll ever see those piercing green eyes again. She remembers a bit about Voldemort, she knows that he killed her sister, and she wonders if he will kill her nephew as well.
At least then there would be no further green eyes to haunt her.