There were certain things that people never wanted to understand. They never wanted to understand it because they feared it, because they thought that understanding the situation would make them more self aware, more open minded to the horror around them. So, they kept it away, they decided to act oblivious to the things around them.

Then there were other people. People who feared what they didn't understand, people who used their fear as anger just to delude themselves of something their minds couldn't begin to comprehend. They believed that acting cruel to people they couldn't understand were necessary for survival, perhaps they thought that they could possibly stamp out whatever it was that they didn't like, that they didn't understand.

Finally, there were people who simply did not care, people who were simply cruel for their own benefit. People who knew what was happening, who understood everything around them yet believed that children deserved torture, that they deserved to be ridiculed, beaten, and scorned for something out of their own control.

Petunia could safely assume that some people in her neighborhood were of the latter, cruel and unforgiving despite knowing the circumstances. She, however, was simply fearful. Fearful of the power that her kind held within them. Yet, despite being fearful, despite being as terrified of magical folk as they were terrified of Voldemort, The woman couldn't find it in her nature to cruelly torture a young child who was born into something that they had never asked for.

Perhaps this was the reason why she was suddenly so invested into her sister's life, perhaps this was the reason she found herself tracing her fingers against the frayed photo album, sitting upon her and Vernon's bed with her lips pulled into a thin line, the sound of Dudley jumping up and down the stairs as hard as he could echoing in the house. She paused, fingers brushing against the edges of the album to open it. Thoughts filled her mind, of the smiling red woman proudly displaying her children to her own sister, displaying her nephews to her. She breathed in deeply, hoping to get some air into her to possibly stop the onslaught of sobs yet the air simply paused at the midsection of her throat, expanding until it felt like she was choking.

A small gasp erupted from her mouth, eyes suddenly stinging as they took in the first photo within the picture book. A young red haired girl was smiling at the camera, she had her arms around her stomach and Petunia could only wince as those bright green eyes kept shimmering in happiness, happiness that was soon to be destroyed. She paused, wondering if she truly wanted to see the moving photos that would eventually lead to the dam on her emotions cracking into pieces.

Finally making her decision, the woman turned the page, gasps erupting from her mouth as the dam finally started to crack, tiny little cracks that soon enlarged with each picture she saw. The first one was of two babies, the black haired one was happily speaking gibberish as it seemed while the smaller one listened intently, mostly interrupting his brother to suddenly say his own gibberish opinion. The woman's lips wobbled as she stared at the multiple photos that moved happily, her hands trembled as she took shaky breaths that couldn't be expelled properly without causing her eyes to let out streams of water down her cheeks.

"Petunia!"

She froze, quickly shutting the album and shoving it down the bed as she wiped at her cheeks hurriedly, sterling her expression into one of the simple facades she had kept over the years; a facade of abhorrence.

As the woman made her way down the stairs, watching her nephew stumble into the kitchen on sleepy feet caused her to frown momentarily only to grimace heavily as the image of another boy appeared, reddish black curls all over the face, pale eyes aflame with happiness and his smaller body drowning in old clothes.

"Oh Lily..." Petunia shook her head from the abrupt hallucination, steeling her face once more once she realized she had let her facade slip. That's all it was to her, A facade that she couldn't wait to have vanish.

Indeed, Petunia understood magic and how it worked. Yes, she was terrified of the power it held but that spoke nothing to seeing that her own flesh and blood were safe, even if she was slowly failing at the aspect.

•••

The afternoon breeze was greatly appreciated by Blue, the way it swayed the dandelions, lilies, and petunias that he had planted into separate pots made him hum. Generally, the rain that had come the night before was even more of a blessing, watering his plants for him and providing a cool breeze and excellent heat was the supposed main reason why Blue loved the sky so much. Bandaged fingers reached forward, brushing against the pot's edge and making sure that there was no cracks within them.

After a while, Blue shifted upon his position on the ground. His knees bent, arms curled around his still bruised stomach, and his toes pushing himself up so his socked feet didn't touch the grass and whatever mysteries could be hiding in there was severely painful for him, so he shifted. Now, he was laying on his stomach, legs lying against the grass and concrete, across the line that separated them from each other.

His pale eyes stared in contentment at the swaying flowers as he shifted upon the grass and pulled out a few slips of paper from his overall pocket. One paper was purple, the word 'Auntie' written in large, cursive letters. He placed it upon the pot of Petunias, making sure it was stuck properly before grabbing the second one which had the word 'Mummy' in large, cursive letters. He paused some more before placing it against the pot of Lillies. His hand reached forward for the third one only to grip grass. Alarmed and confused, Blue sat up, scrambling with his hands across the grass in terror.

"Where are they?!" He pulled clumps of green strands from the soil, furiously throwing them upon the ground as he kept pulling. A jeering voice stopped him however, a voice that he knew all too well.

"Looking for these little things?"

Blue snapped his head up, wincing at the whiplash it suddenly caused and scrambling to his feet. There were three other boys in front of him, one holding his last two slips of paper. Blue's eyes however were focused on the larger of the three whose hair was a messy brown color, clutching his papers within greasy fingers. He was dirtying them. Blue's eyebrows furrowed together, hands suddenly clutching at at the sides of his overalls in confusion on what to do. Gulping softly, he stepped forward trying to be as brave as possible despite how much his knees wobbled, or how much his breathing began to go erratic, his heart pounding into his rib cage.

"G-give Them back!"

The leader furrowed his eyebrows in alarm, shoving the papers within his pocket, wrinkling and tearing them from the force as his greasy fingers suddenly grasped Blue by the collar of his shirt, pulling him over so that he could smell the male's rancid breath.

"Are you talking back to me? Ha, Look at this guys, The stupid shrimp is talking back to me!"

The two other boys snickered, eyes boring down at Blue as if he was simply a tiny little ant. The leader shook him once, grip tightening before shaking him twice as harder than before. Blue's eyes were focused on the now torn and greasy slips of paper he had worked so hard on or rather one of the girls had worked so hard on to actually do. The leader continued to brutally shake him back and forth, his goons laughing and joining in with punches and nails.

After a while of torment, the boys grew bored, dropping him to the ground as the leader pulled out the torn pieces of the papers and spat upon them smearing his greasy fingers across the surface and letting it go so that it fluttered to the ground like a helpless leaf.

The boy's body trembled like a leaf in the winter, his throat expanded with air that had become stuck, resulting in shortened gasps of breath than anything else. His fingers twitched rapidly almost seeming like a blur, scraping against the concrete In a attempt to try and get them to stop their twitching and shaking. His pale eyes stared at the torn and dirty paper in disbelief, growing wide and soon flickering around, changing shades and suddenly stinging like hot oil.

His lips kept parting open for breathe yet all that seemed to come out was small, short gasps. Finally, he managed to choke out a shriek of shock, growing louder in volume until he was fairly certain that his lungs were going to be damaged soon enough. His fingers were bleeding profusely and the cuts stung more so than his eyes did, his stomach twisted painfully, reminding him of a abhorrent outcome that was soon to come.

And soon it did. Bile and stomach acid rose up from his throat, splattering against the concrete like paint being sprayed upon a canvas; messy. He kept his arms around his torso, ignoring the fact that his bloody fingers were coating his overalls in red. His throat burned heavily as the retching seemed to continue for almost a good hour or so.

The shriek of disgust only caused his stomach to twist more painfully, the smell of perfume made him sweat, and the rough tug at his collar to pull him upwards caused another round of acid and bile to rise up, splattering amongst the grass and concrete only to have the woman who had stormed over emit another shriek.

"You vile child!"

His eyes grew blurry, his steps grew unbalanced and his ears went into static but Blue would never forget those striking green eyes that stared back at him from a nearby house, filled with worry and horror.

He could only give a weak smile that didn't seem to be much comfort to the person staring at him before mouthing.

"I'm fine."