Petunia
felt barely any remorse leaving her house behind, little Harry in a baby carrier
supported against her chest. The taxi to the airport was waiting for them.
The only
things she would be leaving behind were broken relationships and silent
graveyards. She scoffed inwardly. That Dumbledore and his fellows hadn’t even
bothered telling her when the funeral would be, nor had they relayed the
location of Lily’s grave. For someone who in his letter had claimed to have
been very close to the Potters and who had even insinuated to have been some
kind of authority in the forces against the Dark Lord Voldemort – for someone
like that to attempt to squirm free of his duty to the deceased’s family –
Petunia had no words for that level of cowardice.
The more
she thought about his actions, the higher rose her fury.
A one
year-old child! Alone! On a doorstep!
And not
only that – it had been October 31st. As in, Halloween. The one holiday where villains went crazy. Not only were they able to walk freely among pedestrians due
to idiotic civilians donning silly
disguises to the point of pretending to be villains. No, in the spirit of the
holiday they became even more audacious than usual.
The crime
rate on this particular holiday was higher by a third than it was on any other day. All day Petunia had been
chasing villains and patrolling, some idiots had coordinated unsafe fireworks
all over the entire country – and
this old fool abandoned a child. In a
well-known neighbourhood of heroes, most of which were out on patrol that particular
day which made it an attractive target for villain attacks. It had happened
last year, in fact, or so her neighbours had told her.
And Harry –
Petunia didn’t even want to think
about it.
(He was
already walking and running like a champion! What if he’d woken and wiggled out
of his blanket? Dear God, it was lucky she’d noticed those foolish wizards!)
“Mama?”
He’d woken up. His voice was as tiny as the rest of him, and the word broke her
heart.
“I’m
sorry,” she whispered. “It’s just us now, Harry.”
He giggled,
giving her a blinding smile, not understanding. “Mama!” Petunia felt her eyes
stinging.
She hadn’t
processed the loss of Lily, not really. There hadn’t been time. Plus, she had a
child to care for, she couldn’t allow herself to fall apart. “I’m your Auntie
Petunia,” she told him seriously.
“Tuna,” he
chirped proudly.
“There’s a
smart lad,” she cooed. “We’re going to Japan now. It’ll be a new, fresh start.
Just what we need.”
In which Petunia has a Quirk and Lily doesn’t, and that is really the start of everything.
Petunia
Evans manifested her Quirk at the tender age of three. It wasn’t anything fancy, all she did was get the
mess she’d made eating off of her bib, and her parents registered it as a
‘Cleaning Quirk’. That wasn’t quite what it was, but she didn’t question it
until later. Neither did her parents, as they were busy preparing for the birth
of Petunia’s little sister.
Little Lily
Evans was a lovely child, and Petunia loved her fiercely. They’d play together,
would read hero magazines with riveted attention and obsess over news reports.
“Just wait
until I get my Quirk!” Lily would chirp. “I’ll be the strongest hero! My name’s
gonna be Tiger Lily!”
“We’ll be
heroes together,” Petunia would vow.
“But your
Quirk is Cleaning,” the younger Evans would then frown.
“I’ll find
a way.” Petunia was young and stubborn in those innocent times. The only thing
that would change about that in coming years was her age.
“It’s a
promise!” Lily would cheer.
But Lily Evans
never manifested a Quirk, and while she still aspired to be a hero, her heart
didn’t seem to be in it anymore. But Petunia never forgot that promise, and in
her idealistic child’s mind, she never considered the possibility that Lily
might.
Hello, I’m starting a compilation of my favorite moments of Aoyama staring directly into the camera.
Shall I add some of my favorites?
Everyone thinks Aoyama’s quirk is his laser, but it’s actually the ability to know that he’s a fictional character and knowledge of where the camera/audience is at any time. The laser is just a bonus from the concentrated energy of the fourth wall he directs.
“W-w-wh-!” Toshinori chokes. “My boy, what are you wearing?!”
“Dancer clothes,” he replies, puffing out his chest. Toshinori wants to remove his shirt and put in on the boy, his scar be damned. That top cuts off way too high and those poofy pants are hung too low. He’s showing way too much skin and this is hardly appropriate attire for a middle school student and it’s not exactly summer anymore, and… and what the hell is this boy thinking? In general? Seriously? “Or a Jasmine costume, could be either one. I found it in kaa-chan’s old stuff, don’t I look great?”
“You look like your mom except younger,” Midoriya points out. “It’s kinda weird.”
Cheloneuniverse 