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constancezin · 2 days ago

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safe - a jily oneshot

Lily wasn’t the kind of person to flinch upon being touched. Sure, she didn’t like being manhandled or grabbed without warning, but she could compose herself well enough to keep fear from showing in her face or body. It was what she had to do. If she expressed that she was afraid, then it would only make her that much more vulnerable. Lily had long learned to train her nerves.

So then why did she shudder when she felt a cold hand firmly grasp her arm?

“Lily, what is going on with you?” Severus implored, his dark eyes wild with a strange, feral kind of fright, “First, I’m hearing all of these insane rumors, and now you’re late to class. You’re never late to class, Lily.”

“Hold on, what kinds of rumors have you been hearing?” Lily asked, sitting down beside Severus, in her favorite place at the front of the class, “You know by now not to listen to stupid rumors.”

“These rumors are different,” Severus practically snapped, “Everyone is saying that you’re dating Potter.”

Severus spat the word like it was poison, and Lily couldn’t help but crack a smile. Now that she had let her guard down around James and their rivalry dissolved, she could fully see how silly it was that she and Severus had ever considered James an enemy.

“Well, maybe that’s because I am,” Lily said cautiously, but the smile didn’t leave her face. Her green eyes twinkled as she thought about her new lover. “We made it official yesterday after the big Quidditch game. Neither of us like labels all that much, but we also couldn’t excuse calling each other friends after, well…it’s improper to talk about this sort of thing. Let’s compare homework. Did you get C for the second question?”

Severus placed his hand on Lily’s, keeping her from taking her schoolbooks from her satchel. His grip around Lily’s hand tightened, and Lily realized with an odd sort of dread that though Severus’ hand was small, it was surprisingly small.

“Lily, this isn’t some joke,” Severus hissed urgently, “You can’t be- you can’t be dating James Potter! He’s treated us like shit ever since we first got here! He doesn’t care about you, Lily!”

“He has not treated us like shit,” Lily protested, “Sure, we’ve had our squabbles, but he doesn’t ever go too far. And he’s defended me. You’ve heard him defend me, Sev. Not even you have ever defended me the way he does every day.”

“He doesn’t mean it, Lily!” Severus snapped, and Lily’s eyes widened. She froze as Severus continued. “He’s a Pureblood, obviously, he doesn’t mean anything he’s saying! He’s just pretending so he can seem like a hero and get close to you! You know how James and Sirius and them are. Everything they do is a fucking act. So that people will treat them like they’re the kings of the world!”

“That’s not true, Sev!” Lily cried out the second she was able to get a word in, “I know he can tease sometimes, but he’s a good person. He makes me feel…well…he makes me feel safe, Severus. Nobody’s made me feel like that before.”

“Seriously, Lily?” Severus demanded. “I’ve never made you feel safe before? I’ve been protecting you since the day we met!”

Lily winced as Severus’ grip on her arm tightened, and her skin reddened underneath the growing cruelty in his hand.

“You’re certainly not making me feel safe now!” she shot back, yanking at her arm to try and take it back from Severus’ oppressive grip. “You’re being ridiculous! How does my relationship with James have anything to do with you? I can be his girlfriend and your friend at the same time, can’t I?”

“No you can’t, Lily! You don’t get it!” Severus’ eyes glinted with something sinister. It made Lily’s skin crawl. “I just don’t understand how you can’t see it. I’ve been there for you, I’ve supported you, I’ve given you everything, Lily! Who else would do that for a Mudblood?”

The world froze as Lily realized what this all was about. It was never about James. It was never even about Severus. It was about her, and what flowed in her veins. What rushed in her ears in this very moment.

“You said you would never call me that again.”

Lily’s voice was heavy and thick with fear. She felt frozen, like she couldn’t move a muscle. This wasn’t like Lily. Usually, when she was afraid, she couldn’t stop moving. She couldn’t fathom why the same was not happening now. She wanted to run. She wanted to be away from Severus and those eyes, which burned with hatred for not Lily, but for what she was.

“Why does it matter?” Severus challenged, “It’s what you are. Nothing’s going to change that. You’re a real slut, Lily, leading me on like this, making me think that we had something. I know exactly what you are. You’re a fucking gold digger. First, you wanted to be near me because of my status. And then, someone richer came along, a Pureblood at that. You just want to take from men, whatever you can. Whatever they have. If you think this is some sort of rebellion against the system, you’re dead wrong! Nobody else would genuinely do this for you, nobody else would genuinely let you pretend that you’re an equal! You’re a slut, Lily Evans, and I don’t care who hears it because it’s true!”

A loud crack resounded, echoing off the walls of the classroom. The other buzzing of conversations stopped as all eyes turned to the front of the room. Standing before Lily was James Potter. All six feet of James Potter. Lily was transfixed, unable to stop staring at his eyes. James’ eyes were big and brown, always gentle. Always reverent. They twinkled with a childlike innocence and a mischievous impishness. But none of that was present now. James’ eyes, his big brown eyes, were glimmering with unbridled rage.

Severus was huddled on the floor, clutching the side of his face. Tears sprang from the corners of his eyes almost immediately. James did not falter or frown. His glare was red-hot.

“You’re lucky I didn’t punch your throat,” James spat, “Calling Lily such a name. You know, Lily told me that you’re her best friend, so I decided coming in today that I would try to be nice to you. But I forgot one thing. It’s impossible to be nice to a bigot, Snivellus.”

James kicked Severus in the side, causing the boy to whimper and scramble to his feet, running out of the room, no doubt towards the infirmary. The rest of the morning went by in a blur. James was yelled at. He was sentenced to detention. 200 house points were taken. And then, 100 house points were given. For standing up for equality. Lily felt James stroke her hair and ask if she was alright, but her tongue felt numb. She could not speak. Finally, after a few minutes of concentrated thawing, she whispered in the smallest, shakiest voice.

“You didn’t have to do that, James.”

And suddenly, James’ eyes were the same gentle brown eyes that Lily had fallen in love with. He looked shocked and confused, and his head tilted to the side. Lily was almost tempted to laugh at how innocent James looked. He seemed unable to fathom what Lily had said, and when he responded, his voice was rich with devotion.

“Yes, I did.”

His hands held Lily’s arms, and she felt no fear, even though James’ hands were much bigger than Severus’. His hold was so impossibly tender. Lily felt like a glass figurine, like something that was worth handling delicately. And it made her feel…safe. Lily was safe again.

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inspired by a conversation with @fauna-flora11

i hope you guys enjoyed! i know the fic is pretty indulgent, but i just wrote it for fun!

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constancezin · 3 days ago

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*whispers* jily one shot inspired by taylor's 'sweet nothing'

Your wish is my command

READ ON A03

James Potter was so tired, so achingly tired. War had brought on the kind of exhaustion that seeps into bones and makes every second feel heavier than the last. Still, he worked through the laundry, his determination fueled less by energy and more by the stubborn need to make the pile near the sink look a little less daunting.

A small victory, perhaps, but one he could claim.

He grabbed Lily’s coat next—a soft, worn thing she’d tossed down in a hurry after her last meeting with Dumbledore. Lately, he had her working day and night on healing potions, her talents with cauldrons too invaluable to spare. James hated how much Dumbledore depended on her since they lost Anna Heite, how relentless the demands had become. He’d never say it aloud, but a small, shameful part of him was beginning to resent Dumbledore for a lot of things in their life.

Turning the coat over in his hands, he began emptying the pockets—a necessary habit. Lily had a knack for leaving all sorts of things behind: candy wrappers, loose coins, sometimes even scraps of parchment or used bandages. As he tugged the left breast pocket inside out, something small and solid slipped free, hitting the old cottage floor with a soft clink.

James bent down slowly, his movements heavy with fatigue, and picked up the object between his thumb and forefinger. It was a pebble—smooth and dark, its surface worn to a soft sheen, like wet sand. He turned it over in his hand, frowning slightly. This wasn’t one of the local stones from Godric’s Hollow.

No, this had come from somewhere else.

Recognition dawned as a bittersweet pang tightened his chest. Magheramore Beach. Wicklow. Last July, before Harry was born. They’d called it their baby moon, a final little escape to the coast before their world shifted forever. He could still remember the gentle crash of the waves, the cool breeze carrying the briny scent of the sea, and Lily’s laughter echoing across the shore as she collected little treasures like this one.

She’d always, always loved the sea.

Merlin, he missed the sunshine.

James hummed quietly along with the radio as he set the pebble on the counter, its presence an unexpected but welcome reminder of simpler, happier times. Then, shaking himself from his reverie, he resumed stuffing the laundry into the wash. Lily had insisted on installing this Muggle contraption the moment they’d moved in.

“Magic doesn’t get things properly clean,” she’d declared, adamant as ever, when he and Sirius had groaned at the thought of wrangling the machine into working order.

He’d rolled his eyes at her at the time, but deep down, he knew she was right. The three of them had spent days cursing at wires and leaky hoses before finally coaxing it to life. Now, he’d never admit it, but the machine had grown on him. Its rhythmic hum as it worked was oddly soothing, a small piece of Lily’s Muggle heritage seamlessly woven into their magical home.

“James!”

Her voice, bright and cheery, rang through the room as she appeared in the doorway. He looked up from where he stood, catching sight of her just as he closed the washer door with a satisfying snap. Lily practically swept into the kitchen, her face alight with a smile he swore she saved just for him. Her green eyes glistened, wide with warmth, her whole demeanor radiating love.

Before he could say a word, she crossed the room in a few quick strides and leaped into his arms, her joy infectious. He caught her easily, standing up straight as she wrapped herself around him.

This.

This was all she ever truly wanted from him—a hug, a kiss, and the soft promise of love murmured in her ear. He gave it to her gladly every time, still marveling at how he’d somehow managed to marry the hottest and smartest witch he’d ever known.

“Come see what I did!” she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement as she pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. She barely waited for his nod before planting a quick, enthusiastic kiss on his lips and tugging at his robes, urging him to follow.

With a smile tugging at his own face, James let himself be led, her hand small but firm in his. Her energy was impossible to resist, and he let her enthusiasm pull him along. It wasn’t often they had a moment like this, just the two of them. Harry took up most of their time these days, but Bathilda had kindly offered to watch their one-year-old for the afternoon.

For the next three hours, it was just them.

She dragged him down the hallway toward the makeshift potions room, the one that had once been Remus’s bedroom before their friend had taken up work in Dumbledore’s underground network. James felt a pang of worry for the werewolf; they hadn’t heard from him in two months. The underground was dangerous work, full of dangerous beings and uncertain raids, and Remus had good reason to stay far away from the rest of the Order.

“Look,” Lily said, snapping him out of his thoughts as she motioned toward the worktable. Three cauldrons sat bubbling, their contents giving off faint wisps of steam and color.

James took one glance and knew exactly what he was looking at. Growing up in a family of potion masters had its perks. “Babe,” he said, his voice tinged with amazement, “how the hell did you brew Polyjuice Potion without Boomslang skin?”

The scarcity of Boomslang skin was no small hurdle. The Ministry had placed a heavy tax on magical creature artifacts months ago, aiming to cut off the Death Eaters’ supply lines for potions like Polyjuice, which they used to infiltrate Ministry operations. Stores in diagon alley had stopped stocking it, and it was costly to owl out for some sources. The problem was, the rebels needed it too. Without it, they hadn’t been able to sneak spies into the Death Eaters’ ranks in ages.

And yet, somehow, Lily had done the impossible.

She stood there, grinning like the cat who’d caught the cream.

“Boomslang,” she began with a mischievous glint in her eye, “is a snake native to Africa. The ministry is monitoring any postage coming in and out of Africa, so I couldn’t owl for some snake skin. However, it just so happens my sister’s husband took her on a safari holiday with his company four weeks ago.”

“Wait.” James blinked, incredulous. “Dursley? Your sister and Dursley went on a safari?” He snorted, trying and failing to imagine the uptight, buttoned-up Muggles traipsing around the African wilderness.

“Focus, James.” Lily waved off his amusement, though a hint of a smile tugged at her lips. “Anyway, remember Jackie Fredrickson?”

He furrowed his brow, rifling through his mental file of old Hogwart’s names. “Blond? Year below us?”

“Exactly.” Lily nodded. “She works at a preserve out there now—handles the dragons. I reached out, and Jackie happily passed along a package of Boomslang skin to my sister. Petunia mailed it to me through the Muggle post.”

James stared at her, realization dawning. “Lily Evans, are you telling me you had your sister smuggle snake skin for you on the black market?”

“And you want to know the best part?” she asked, her grin widening.

“What?”

“I didn’t have to pay a cent. Jackie gave it to Petunia for free, and Petunia covered the Muggle shipping costs.”

For a moment, James just gaped at her, then burst into laughter. “What a mind!” he said, scooping her up in his arms as pride swelled in his chest.

Lily didn’t protest as he spun her around, her arms winding around his neck. When he pressed a kiss to her lips, she returned it with enthusiasm.

“You say that all the time,” she teased, brushing him off lightly. But the glow of glee on her face gave her away.

And James couldn’t help but think, not for the first time, how utterly brilliant his wife was. “You’re amazing,” James murmured, his voice soft as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. His fingertips lingered for a moment, tucking the errant lock behind her ear with the kind of tenderness he reserved for her alone.

For a fleeting second, her eyes sparkled with gratitude. Then, the light dimmed, and her expression grew somber. “I should be doing more,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

James frowned, his chest tightening. “Don’t say that.”

She slipped from his arms with a quiet sigh, her movements deliberate as she picked up a ladle and stirred the potion in the nearest cauldron. The soft clink of the ladle against the cauldron’s rim filled the silence between them. “I’m just stating the truth,” she said, her back to him now. “Three cauldrons of Polyjuice Potion won’t last us a month if we’re going to start infiltrating their spies. Moody uses at least one cauldron in two days half the time. It’s not enough—not nearly enough.”

“Lily,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. He crossed the room in two quick strides and placed a steadying hand on her arm just as she moved to stir another cauldron. “You’re doing more than most. Hell, you’re doing more than anyone should have to.”

She stilled beneath his touch but refused to look at him, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.

“Lily,” he said again, this time tightening his grip slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to anchor her. His heart twisted as she finally lifted her gaze to meet him, and he saw the pain swirling in her emerald eyes.

She was crying.

“You are doing enough,” he said, his voice cracking with the weight of his silent plea. “More than enough. Please don’t cry, sweetheart.”

Her lip trembled as she stared at him, and for a moment, she looked as though she might believe him. But then she shook her head, her voice breaking as she whispered, “I’m sorry. It’s only a matter of time until—” She paused, choking on the words. “Until–this ends.”

James swallowed hard, his grip on her arm tightening just slightly as though he could tether her to the present, to him, to hope. “Lily, stop. The only end that’s coming for us, is the end of this war. We’re going to win.”

“I know I shouldn’t cry,” she continued, her voice shaking. “I know that. But...Marlene? James? I thought she was invisible. And if they got her…they can kill us too.”

His heart broke, he knew losing Marlene had taken a toll on her. He knew losing anyone took a toll on her. Hell, the war was taking a toll on her. He swore he heard her crying in the bathtub most nights, but whenever he went to check on her silence followed.

Her voice dropped to a fragile whisper as she furiously asked, “what if I’m just too soft for all of this?”

Her confession hung in the air, raw and unguarded.

James felt his throat close up, but he forced himself to speak. “You’re not too soft, Lily.” He cupped her face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the tear that had slipped free. “You’re kind, and you’re brave, and you care so damn much it hurts you to your very core. But that’s not softness. That’s strength. That’s what makes you extraordinary.”

Her lips parted, but no words came. Instead, she leaned into his touch, her watery eyes searching his face as though it held the answers she needed, something solid to cling to when the ground beneath them felt like it might give way.

“I’m scared too,” he admitted, his voice barely audible, as though saying it too loudly might shatter them both. “Every day. But we keep going because we have to. Because we’ve got each other.” He paused, brushing his thumb gently along her cheek. “But I’ll make you a promise.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, and she sniffled, wiping at her eyes. “What promise?”

He reached out to help her, his fingers carefully dabbing at the tears lingering on her tired face. “I’ll take you back to Wicklow,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the ache in his chest. “Next July. Once this war is over, we’ll go back to the sea. You, Harry, and me.”

She let out a trembling breath, her lips curving into the faintest shadow of a smile. But they both knew the weight those words carried. Once the war is over was a mantra they repeated like a prayer, a lifeline to pull them through the dark.

Just last week, she had whispered her own version of it to him in the dead of night: “Once the war is over, we’ll have another kid.”

They were promises spoken into tired, desperate ears—fragile dreams shaped in the quiet moments when hope still flickered. Sweet nothings to cradle against the harshness of reality, like the smooth stone sitting on the kitchen counter or a single strand of hair tucked into a locket.

They were just words, but words these days were the closest thing they had to magic.

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constancezin · 3 days ago

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I love you, Mel @tedwardremus

throw a punch; fall in love

Read on A03

Hogwarts' stone corridors buzzed with the usual pre-class chatter as most students meandered toward their next destinations. The air carried a faint chill, characteristic of late autumn, and the occasional gust from the drafty windows sent shivers through the crowd of Gryffindors waiting for the transfiguration classroom to open.

Mary MacDonald, her arms clutching a transfiguration book, was against the wall opposite of the classroom, too close to Regulus Black. His haughty expression and the subtle curl of his lip had caught Mary alone and friendless. The worst way for any muggleborn witch to be. His voice was low, as he intended, to get away with his bullying.

What was stupid of him, was thinking he could get away with bullying anyone with Lily Evans nearby.

“It’s almost tragic,” Regulus drawled, “Trying so hard to fit in with people who’ll never see you as their equal. It’s pathetic, really.”

Mary’s cheeks burned red, but she held her ground. Before she could muster a retort, a new voice sliced through the tension like a whip.

“Pathetic? That’s rich, coming from someone who couldn’t even catch the snitch in the last match when it was right in front of his face.”

Regulus’ head turned toward the source of the interruption. Lily Evans stood a few feet away, her wand loosely held in her right hand. Her green eyes blazed with determination, and her fiery hair matched the color of the leaves outside the castle windows. The Gryffindor prefect’s presence was commanding, always had been. Her housemates watched with knowing eyes, ready for her to put Regulus Black in his place.

Anyone with brains knew Lily Evans could throw a good hex.

“This doesn’t involve you, Evans,” Regulus said with a cold sneer. “Go polish your badge—whatever it is you lame Gryffindor prefects do to fill up time in your sad excuse for a life.”

Lily’s lips curled into a sharp smile. “Oh, it involved me the moment you stopped by to talk to sweet Mary, here. Don’t you have a class to get too?”

“None of your business, mudblood.”

Lily’s eyes flashed and several Gryffindors behind her got out their own wands. “You might want to think twice before letting that mouth of yours open again.”

Regulus arched an eyebrow, his voice laced with mocking disdain. “Hexing’s against the rules, prefect.”

Lily tilted her head, her expression turning theatrically innocent as she jutted her hip and let her wand dangle lazily in her fingers. “Oh no, how dreadful—I completely forgot. Whatever will I do?”

What happened next was so quick and explosive that witnesses later swore Lily had Apparated across the hallway. In a blur of movement, she grabbed a fistful of Regulus’ robes, yanking him around to face her. The abruptness left him stunned, and before he could so much as reach for his wand, her free arm swung forward with decisive precision.

A loud crack echoed as her fist connected with his nose, the sound enough to make Mary Macdonald wince. Blood poured down Regulus’ face as he staggered back, clutching his nose, his mouth opening to shout—but Lily wasn’t done.

“Oh no, my hand slipped!” Lily gasped in mock horror, her voice dripping with insincerity. “Let me fix that for you.”

She raised her wand with exaggerated care and gave it a flick. Regulus’ mouth snapped shut mid-yell as though glued, his wide eyes reflecting both shock and fury. He clawed at his face, muffled protests struggling to escape.

The Gryffindors waiting for class to start nearby erupted, cheers rippling through the gathered students. Among them, James Potter turned to Sirius Black, his face alight with awe.

“I’m going to marry that girl,” James said, as though it were the most obvious fact in the world.

“If you don’t, I will.” Peter Pettigrew interjected, wide-eyed in the direction of where Lily was now walking Mary away from Regulus, whispering hurriedly into her ear.

Sirius said wistfully, “does anyone have a camera? I want to send mum a photo because Regulus has never looked this good.”

Turns out, Lily Evans could throw a good punch too.

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constancezin · 3 days ago

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constancezin · 3 days ago

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james and lily are so codependent they even died in the same day,

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constancezin · 3 days ago

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Can 2025 be the year that we let Regulus and Bella just be unapologetically terrible?

Yes they come from a family that operates like a cult, but they can still CHOOSE to be deatheaters.

Just like Andromeda and Sirius CHOSE to leave.

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constancezin · 3 days ago

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What are your thoughts on the possibility of Petunia redeeming herself or atoning for her abuse of Harry? This is more ramblings and musing then coherent ask, sorry.

You mentioned in a previous post that while she might not love him, she is concerned for her nephew’s safety - as well as that her emotions towards Harry are quite complex (similarly to her emotions towards and relationship with Lily, post-magic revelation).

There are many fics where Petunia does eventually break the cycle of abuse she and Vernon perpetuate on Harry (but usually this is the result of either divorcing Vernon or her husband outright dying), but I’m kind of curious as to what you think in your analysis of her character.

Petunia is a tough nut to crack for me when it comes to fics where she is redeemed.

At the very least, the extreme neglect and enforced silence that Harry is raised in just…it’s terrible when you look at it more deeply than the early books intend.

Which is made worse still by later on, when she swings a frying pan at his head (Chamber of Secrets, I think?).

In the first books, I get that as the target audience was young kids, not much gravitas was placed in Harry’s treatment in the hands of the Dursley’s - they were the bad family he escaped into the magical world from, the anti-thesis to the Weasley family later, meant to seem more caricature and buffoonish.

If that frying pan had hit Harry, though? Depending on how hard Petunia swung it, no matter that she was concerned for Dudley (after Harry didn’t even use magic, just pretended to), that could have killed him.

We know Dudley beat Harry quite often with his friends, and Vernon at the very least threatened to do so (and from some of Harry’s lines, likely went through with said threats at times), but little about Petunia’s abuse of Harry is mentioned except in the very early books - her shaving his hair except for his bangs for example, leaving him to go to school mortified - so there’s no indication that she regularly threatened him physically over the emotional abuse, but still.

Not to mention the potential for neglect/abuse that Petunia herself went through, Lily being their parent’s favored child over her, how that in turn also affected her relationship with her sister, and then how that is turned on to Harry…

Petunia’s character, and redemption/atonement for Harry’s abuse is such an interesting concept.

Personally, I was never interested in a Petunia redemption arc. I think she's just as bad, if not worse than Vernon. So I'm going to have to disagree with you.

It's not that Petunia's sitting there feeling bad about how she and Vernon treat Harry and wish she could stop it — she doesn't. It's very clear throughout the books that she isn't remorseful at all.

Her feelings about Harry are complex because Harry is Lily's son. And as bitter and jealous as Petunia is, I think, she used to love her sister. Used to even be protective of her. So, deep down, I don't think she wants Harry dead or seriously hurt (to her standard), but at the same time, she feels justified in hurting him and treating him as subhuman.

See, Vernon truly does hate wizards. He fears magic, he loves normalcy, and he despises the "freaks" that essentially represent everything he hates. He's straightforward and completely honest in his approach.

The reason I sometimes consider Petunia worse, is becouse she isn't honest, she's a fucking hypocrite.

She wanted to be a witch. She wanted to be special and go to wizard school like Lily. She was jealous of Lily that she got to do magic and go to Hogwarts.

Petunia started calling wizards freaks and latched onto normalcy as a way to cope with not being special. I mean, she was told that magic exists, that there's a whole special world of magic out there, but that she isn't special enough to become part of it.

So young Petunia coped by going in the opposite direction. She became as normal as can be. Started claiming anyone special was a "freak" even when deep down she fucking knows that if she got a chance she'd leave and go to Hogwarts in a heartbeat. That deep down she wants to be special.

She transferred that jealousness and bitterness, then toward the wizarding world as a whole onto Harry personally, which is so unfair. Like, I find it disgusting, I find it disgusting how righteous she feels treating him the way they do. She is very similar to Snape in this regard (projecting her problems with Harry's parent onto Harry), just without any of the redeeming qualities since she isn't even all that smart, and she wouldn't give a shit if all her neighbors died one day (Snape would). And Snape was better to Harry than Petunia, let's be real, being an ass to a kid is not the same as starving a kid and locking him in a cupboard.

But I do want to point out, that she doesn't have the excuse of a cycle of abuse (I'm saying excuse because that's what it is. Tragic backstory can be used to explain characters' actions but it doesn't absolve them) becouse Petunia wasn't abused or particularly neglected. We have no indication she was, and I think it's more likey she was treated well.

We're told their parents loved having a witch in the house by Petunia in PS, but when we see Snape's memories, apparently their parents urged a pre-Hogwarts Lily not to do magic. They feared it until it was explained to them. Petunia is biased in what she says. Because while they were supportive of Lily once they understood, I don't believe they ever mistreated Petunia, and I don't think she is meant to be read as neglected.

I mean, Lily wasn't even home most of the year, Petunia was getting all of their parents' attention year-round, and during the breaks, they probably dotted on Lily because they hadn't seen her in months. This isn't neglect or abuse. This is Petunia being a petulant child who didn't get to be showered in attention all the time because her parents wanted to hear from the daughter they only got to see, like, 3 months a year.

I don't think either Lily or Petunia were abused or neglected, and I find it somewhat silly to try and justify Petunia by giving her a tragic backstory when the books make her reasons to hate Harry very clear. These being jealousy and pettiness.

So, I'm not interested in a redemption arc or atonement arc for Petunia or Vernon for that matter. I think neither of them deserves it and the only atonement I'd be interested in for them is a prison sentence for child abuse and neglect.

Yes, Petunia may not beat Harry physically as often as Vernon or Dudley, but she lets them. She watched him be chased by Marge's dog and laughed. She approved of Vernon's and Dudley's treatment of Harry because if she didn't, she wouldn't have let it happen. She stopped Vernon from throwing Harry out of the house when Dumbledore sent a threatening letter to her in OotP; if she cared to stop the abuse she didn't actively participate in herself, she had the power to do so, but didn't. Becouse she thought Harry deserved it. She mistreated him just as much. Looking at him with disgust and scorn and calling him a freak is abuse. Starving and locking him up is abuse. She isn't any better than Vernon.

The only Dursley I can see redeemed is Dudley. He started his journey in the books (btw, in that scene, Petunia thinks Dudley is "too sweet" for telling Harry he isn't a waste of space) and he actually was a child, like Harry. He did what his parents did like every child does. But he shows signs of improvement after Harry saves him from the dementors. He realizes his parents are full of shit.

So, yeah, Dudley is the only Dursley I'm interested in a redemption for. Petunia and Vernon deserve a prison sentence.

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