P.EVANS + J.POTTER

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P.EVANS + J.POTTER

one more vision after this one !!

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vision - 6

PETUNIA BLINKED. She blinked. That's all it took for her to be taken into her next vision. She didn't get to see what happened — what Lily did — how Pandora responded. She saw none of it.

She saw a cradle.

and she saw a baby.

He was peacefully asleep, his eyes closed as his body shifted in comfortability. Petunia felt a sort of adoration as she stared down at him, feeling as her hand was brought to his cheek — softly swiping her thumb against it.

"Harry," She heard her voice say, softly, but still hinting at a sort of happiness and relaxation. This was him. Petunia got to see his face in whole — her harry. Still in a vision, but she counted it.

She felt happy.

A roar of thunder was the next thing to be heard — and that was soon followed by rain. It was harsh, smashing itself against the small window that was just next to her. Petunia felt as she looked through the window, seeing as the gloomy day turned darker, clouds covering each section of the sky.

She loved the rain.

Her hand eventually left the boy's cheek, now making its way to the cradle he was in. And she rocked it, following the pattern of the rain that pelted itself against her home. She then hummed. It was barely heard over the rain — but Petunia didn't seem to mind that fact. She hummed. It was a tune that wasn't necessarily familiar to her, maybe something she simply made up in the moment, but it definitely held an ounce of comfortability for the two individuals.

A creak by the stairway.

Her humming stopped.

Petunia felt herself look back, her brows furrowing at where the noise came from. She did not leave Harry's side, she did not stop shaking his cradle. But her attention was no longer on the boy.

"James?" She heard herself call out, a questioning look following further on her face. "James, is that you?"

No response. Not even another creak. It was purely just silence that overturned after she asked. Petunia, for a moment, only thought it was the house — that the oldness of it was the reasoning for the noises.

But then she looked around.

Petunia felt as her visioned-self studied the room, the atmosphere, anything she could see. It was like she was making a mental checkpoint of every detail that appeared in front of her. That she was slowly remembering something.

She was remembering something.

The past visions.

Or at least the reoccurring one.

It was in this bedroom. Harry's room. It was raining — for the most part, the young boy was crying in the ones that had occurred. He was sleeping right now.