Every so often, a choice is made that is grand enough to shake the very foundation of the careful future fate had planned. These choices are always small, infintismal things that would appear to have not hold any impact at all. To think such a world-shattering decision could be caused by such ordinary people is absurd. But it happens, rarely. And one such occasion of this rare occurrence would have an unprecedented effect on one little boy, and by definition, one huge, hidden world.
Petunia Dursley despised her birthday. A date that should've been a rather pleasant occasion had been soiled with memories of her vastly better sister and her special tricks that had won her their parents loved. She had managed to get over it, for the most part, but habits of her childhood stuck with her, such as her aversion of anything green or red, magic, and of course, her birthday.
But it seemed, however, that word had gotten out around the neighborhood about the upcoming event via Marge, Vernon's sister, and her. inability to keep her jaw shut. So, it was with a health dose of surprise that she woke up Tuesday morning and discovered a 5 dainty birthday bags sitting on her porch when she went to go check the mail.
It was a shock, that was for sure, but it was well received after her initial reaction of assuming the gifts were from that freak nephew of hers. Deeming the gifts safe, Petunia allowed a smile to cross her features and took the bags up to her shared room with an almost gleeful trepidation. Once within the confined safety of her bedroom, she sat the gifts down neatly on the bedspread and studied them.
The bags were all various pastel shades of blue, purple, pink, green and yellow, with various phrases such as 'It's your birthday!' and 'Let's celebrate!' written on them with blocks white letters. After that, a childish excitement built within her, and she eagerly opened the gifts the bags contained without bothering to check the tags to see who had gifted them. She squared down the inkling of guilt that arose from that action with promises to write letters or even have that freak nephew bake brownies or cake as a thank you.
Thirty minutes later, Petunia had opened all the gifts and sorted them into three separate piles of good, bad, and freakish, the last category being added upon the discovery of a box set of six different nail polishes with varying black and pale green shades.
In the good were various feminine items, like rose-sented body washes, hairspray that smelled of cotton candy, a red top that would compliment her figure, and a few shades of lightly colored lip balms.
In the bad, where shirts of a hideous shade that she wouldn't dare touch, things she had caught teens around the neighborhood wearing. Included, a pair of white vans with brightly colored donuts on it with pink icing and multi-colored sprinkles. In fact, the entire contents of the pastel purple bag had been added to the bad pile, and Petunia suspected that House number five's daughter had been responsible for it. With a disgruntled glare, Petunia added the chokers and piercings to the bad pile as well.
In the freakish pile, she had the aforementioned black and green nail polish, a rather girlish hoodie that was the same green as the nail polish, and a DIY dragonhide notebook.
After a few minutes of deliberation, Petunia gathered up the few items in the freak and bad pile and made her way downstairs. To this day, if you were to ask Petunia what had compelled her to give the strange gifts to her equally strange nephew, she would only shrug and change the topic, because the answer is simpe yet unsatisfying. She doesn't know, and would never know what drove her to give the boy such nice things.
But whether the decision was made by her or pre-written in the stars, Petunia marched herself downstairs and wenched open the door to the cupboard under the stairs, where her freakishly small six year old nephew sat up, staring at her with wide, confused eyes that still held a bit of innocence despite his cruel treatment.
Maybe it was that one dash of innocence that softened Petunias heart enough to finalise her decision, and with a huff, she dropped the bundle of stuff into the thin boys lap, ignoring his cry of pain as the nail polish landed first.
"There you go, boy. Don't ever say I never did anything for you. You have about an hour to enjoy that stuff before you need to start working on some brownies, you hear me? Or I'll take that stuff so fast you won't remember you had it."
Petunia walked away, heading back upstairs to begin her letters of thanks to her neighbors, while completely ignorant to the small boy that started down at the pile of gifts as if Santa himself had just handed them to him. Petunia would remain ignorant of the shift her decision had on the future. She briefly contemplated the consequences of her actions but wrote them off fairly quickly. How bad could it be? It was only a simple gift after all.