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The morning after Halloween, Petunia Evans opened the front door of her building expecting to find milk. She did find milk. However, quite unexpectedly, she also found a black-haired baby and a letter addressed to her.
When she leant down to pick the child up, its eyes fluttered open and her heart stopped. She knew those eyes; they were her sister’s. She knew Lily had had a child very recently, but her jealousy- both over Lily’s magic and her new family- pushed her away. She’d seen the boy only once, soon after he’d been born.
A sense of dread came over her as she set the baby down on the floor, atop a warm bundle of pillows and blankets- the poor thing must’ve been freezing!- and opened the letter, which was written in intricate purple script.
“Dear Ms. Petunia Evans,
“It is with a heavy heart that I write to you for a second time. I regret to inform you that your sister, Lily Potter, and her husband, James, have died. They were killed in an attempt to protect their son, Harry, who is now in your care. They died heroes’ deaths, and I hope that this brings you some solace in this difficult time.
“I must ask you to take Harry in as your own. The dark forces that threatened him and took his parents’ lives continue to put Harry’s life in jeopardy. By hiding him away in the Muggle world until he is ready to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I hope to keep him safe from harm. In addition, I have placed magical protections over your house that will keep you both safe. It is your duty to Lily to keep her son safe.
“I wish you all the best, and I offer my deepest condolences in this time of mourning.
“Sincerely yours,
“Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore”
The letter slipped from Petunia’s fingers. She was numb. Nothing processed. She couldn’t quite wrap her brain around the words in the letter.
Lily. Dead. How could Lily be dead? She was a witch. She had power Petunia couldn’t even imagine. How could she be dead?
Across the room, Harry started crying, rousing Petunia. She held Harry, rocking him gently. Tears rolled down her cheeks and landed on Harry’s blanket, making dark blue spots over the fabric.
“I’ve got you, Harry,” Petunia whispered. “I’ve got you.”
-o0o-
Three days after Harry appeared on Petunia’s doorstep, a man came to visit. Petunia recognized his scarred face and pale complexion: this man was one of Lily’s magical friends.
“Hello, Ms. Evans,” the man said. “I don’t know if you remember me. We met at your sister’s house once. My name is Remus Lupin.”
“Hello. Come in, please. Are you here to see Harry?” She stepped aside, and Remus entered.
“And to check up on the both of you,” Remus replied. He looked around, taking in the strangeness of the Muggle household.
“That’s very nice of you. Would you… would you like a drink? Something to eat?” Petunia thought Remus looked like he was starving.
“Oh, I don’t want to inconvenience you…”
“It’s no trouble,” she reassured him. “Please. You came all this way. It’s the least I can do. Besides, ever since…” She paused, taking a moment to control the grief welling up inside her. “Well. Ever since I got the news, casseroles have been appearing in my kitchen. They’ll go to waste if I don’t find other people to eat them. Please have some.” (She conveniently forgot to mention that she had nearly a building full of tenants that would gladly eat her food.)
Remus smiled gratefully. “I guess I won’t object to having a bite, then.” He followed Petunia into the kitchen where, indeed, a good seven casseroles were sitting in a row on the table.
“Take your pick, Mr. Lupin. I’ll get you a plate.”
“Remus is fine, ma’am.” He sat down, sighing heavily. “Might I ask where Harry is?”
“Oh, he’s in my room- his crib, taking a nap. Best not to wake him, I think. He’s still adjusting to the change.”
“Ah. Do you mind if I stick around until he wakes up? I… I’d really like to see him.” He served himself a large plate of casserole. “This’ll be from Molly, I think. She’s a very good cook.”
“I don’t mind, at all.” Petunia sat down across from Remus. “Who’s Molly?”
“She’s another member of the Order. That’s, ah, the wizarding resistance movement. Lily and James were a part of it, as was I.”
“You have powers?” asked Petunia. “Like Lily?”
“Yes, I do.” Remus looked away as he spoke. He began eating. He kept himself from wolfing down his food, but he ate more rapidly than anyone who’d recently seen a decent meal would.
“Oh.” Petunia studied him. “Do you need something to drink?”
“A glass of water would be lovely, if it’s not too much of a bother.”
Petunia got up. “It’s not.” As she poured the glass, her curiosity got the better of her. “You seem very hungry…”
“I am, to tell you the truth,” Remus replied sheepishly. “I haven’t been doing well for myself as of late.”
“Why?” Petunia returned to her seat, sliding the glass towards Remus, who gulped half of it down immediately. “If you have magic, why can’t you just conjure yourself up some food?”
“It doesn’t work like that. There are rules, as I’m sure you know.”
A cry came from another corner of the house. “That’ll be Harry. Come, you can see him. I’ll warn you- it’s a bit messy in there. I wasn’t expecting anyone.” Remus assured her he didn’t mind, he understood.
They got up and found Harry bawling in his crib. Petunia held him, bouncing him and murmuring to him until he calmed down. She held Harry out for Remus to see. “You can hold him, if you like.”
Remus smiled, relaxing visibly as he held the baby in his arms. “He’s amazing. A spitting image of his father, but he’s got his mother’s eyes.”
“I always thought they were her best feature,” Petunia said. “That and her hair. Most people made fun of her for it, but I thought it was beautiful.”
Lupin smiled sadly. “You know, Ms. Evans-”
“Petunia, please.”
“Petunia, then.” Remus glanced up at her. “Your sister was an amazing witch. She was the brightest in our year, and the kindest, too.”
“Thank you.”
Remus handed Harry back to Petunia, who held him, rocking him gently. “Remus… Where are you going after you leave here?”
“I… I don’t know,” Remus confessed.
“Then stay here. Until tomorrow, at least. You can watch Harry this afternoon- I have some shopping to do, anyway. And one of my flats is open. You can sleep there. I don’t mind.”
Remus’ eyes opened wide in shock. “I couldn’t possibly!”
“But you have nowhere else to go!”
Remus shook his head. “It’s too much,” he insisted.
Petunia looked earnestly into his eyes. “Stay,” she commanded. “Please. Tonight, at least.”
“Petunia…” Remus stepped away, leaning against the crib. “You should know something about me… Something that will make you reconsider your offer.”
“Oh?” Petunia held Harry tighter to her chest. “What is it?”
“I… I’m a werewolf.”
Petunia’s brow furrowed, and she cocked her head in confusion. “Is it the full moon?”
“Well, no not for another week, but most people who know of my- my condition… They don’t take too kindly to me.”
“Why?” Her confusion continued, her protective grip on Harry loosening. “Are you… Are you contagious? Are you dangerous?”
“No, not in my human form.”
“Well, then I don’t see any reason to turn you away.” Petunia set Harry in his crib and placed a gentle hand on Remus’ upper arm. “You are very welcome here tonight. And as many nights as you need- though, we’ll have to figure out something to do with you on the full moon.”
The shock in Remus’ eyes broke Petunia’s heart. “Thank you. Thank you, so much.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “I should’ve expected this kind of kindness from Lily Potter’s sister…”
Petunia joined him in crying. Remus wrapped an arm around her, letting her rest her head on his shoulder until the tears subsided. “I’m sorry,” Petunia sniffled.
“You have every right to cry,” Remus told her.
She picked Harry up again, carrying him out of the room and jerking her head to indicate Remus should follow her. “Just when I think I’ve stopped crying, something will start it back up again.”
“I know what you mean.” Remus tagged along as Petunia took Harry into the kitchen.
“Listen, Harry should be having a bottle right about now. Could you hold him while I get the formula ready? It’ll only take a moment. Then you can finish your food.” Remus nodded and took the baby from Petunia, who immediately busied herself with the bottle. “You were saying earlier that the casserole you were eating was from… er…?”
“Molly,” Remus supplied.
“Right. What about the others?”
“Well, I’m not entirely sure…”
“Guess.”
“Hmm…” Remus studied the dish next to Molly’s. He sniffed it carefully, recoiling at the odor. “I’d wager that this is Hagrid’s. His heart is always in the right place, but he can’t cook to save his life.”
Petunia laughed, leaning against the kitchen counter so she could talk to Remus while keeping an eye on the bottle, which was now heating on the stove.
“I’d wager that this one’s from Augusta Longbottom. Her son and his wife were tortured to insanity in the war, so she probably has a lot of sympathy for you.” Remus sighed heavily. “Very sad, what happened to them. They were in my year, as well.”
“Wait a moment- war? How could there be a wizarding war without any of us knowing about it?”
“The Ministry and the Order went to great lengths to cover it up. There’ve probably been more memory charms cast in this war than in the rest of wizarding history.” Harry cooed, making Remus smile widely and chuckle.
“Wow… Okay, what about the next one?”
“This… Oh, this is like a dish they’d serve at Hogwarts quite a bit. I bet Dumbledore had the House Elves whip it up for him.”
“It’s from Dumbledore?” Petunia grabbed the bottle and crossed over to the table to inspect the casserole.
“I believe so.”
Petunia tested the bottle’s temperature. “It’s ready. May I-?” She reached over to take Harry. Remus delicately handed him over. As she offered the bottle to Harry, she chuckled. “Just like at Hogwarts, hmm?”
“I guess it is,” Remus replied. “This next one is from Arabella Figg. She’s a Squib- er, she doesn’t have any magic, but her family does- and she was always feeding us, trying to help in any way she could.”
“But I know her! She lives in the building!” Petunia exclaimed. “She’s so nice- always on time with her rent…”
“Really? I didn’t know where she lived…”
“Oh, yes, she’s two floors up. I had no idea she’s a- what is it called?”
“A Squib.”
Petunia nodded slowly. “So strange…”
Lupin smiled, glancing at the next casserole. “I haven’t the foggiest idea who that one’s from, honestly.”
“Oh, well, that’s okay. What about that one?” She nodded in the direction of the final dish.
“That might be from Professor McGonagall. She’s the Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts. She’s quite adept, but if you’re magical, you can always sort of tell…”
“I thought you said you couldn’t conjure up food?” Petunia said suspiciously.
“You can’t, but you can transfigure things into food,” Remus explained. “It takes quite a bit of practice, though. My transfiguration skills aren’t the strongest, to tell you the truth.”
“Ah,” she said, almost wistfully. Remus had finished his plate of food by now. Some color had blossomed in his face. “Do you think you could watch Harry while I run a few errands?” It occurred to her that she was leaving her sister’s one-year-old child with a near stranger, but somehow, she wasn’t perturbed. He was Lily’s friend, and he’d told her something about Hogwarts. That was good enough for her.
“I would be delighted,” Remus replied.
-o0o-
An hour later, Petunia returned home with armfuls of groceries. There was no sight of Remus nor Harry in the front room, so she set her groceries down in the kitchen and left to look for them. Upon nearing her bedroom, she heard a low voice murmuring indistinctly. She crept quietly toward the door.
“Your dad knew very well that I was afraid of spiders, Harry, but do you know what he did? He levitated the spider a few inches from my face! So I threw my book at it, and it hit Sirius right in the face!” Harry cooed, and Remus laughed, but his laugh broke off in a heavy sigh. “Logically, I guess he deserved it, in retrospect. But I still can’t believe…”
Petunia heard sniffling, and she decided that it was time to announce her presence. She backed away from the door, cleared her throat, and walked into the room. “Hello. How’s Harry?”
“He’s brilliant,” Remus replied, hurriedly wiping his face on his sleeve. He and Harry sat in the rocking chair near his crib, facing away from the doorway. “We’ve been chatting.”
“About what?” Petunia asked innocently, sitting on her bed to face the other two.
Remus bounced Harry, who was still cooing happily, on his leg. “About his dad, while he was in school.”
“Did you… Did you and James have any other friends at Hogwarts?” Petunia’s curiosity was nagging at her, now more than ever. She regretted, now, all the times she’d pushed Lily away or tuned her out while she told stories about Hogwarts. Petunia couldn’t take the jealousy then, but now that Lily was gone, she wanted to know everything about her sister’s time at Hogwarts.
“Yeah, we did,” Remus replied shortly, his face getting dark. “There were four of us.”
“What were the names of the other two? What were they like?”
“That’s quite enough.” Remus stood quickly, yanking Harry up with him. The boy started to cry, and Remus handed him to Petunia. Her eyes narrowed, heat rising in her cheeks as Remus started to stomp away. She set Harry in his crib and marched over.
When she reached Remus, she forced him around with one hand and slapped him square across the face with the other.
“That was unacceptable,” she hissed, her voice trembling. “I have been nothing if not hospitable to you, despite the fact that I barely know you, because I trust my sister’s choice in friends. I fed you. I allowed you time with your best friend’s son- my dead sister’s son, who is now in my care- even though, as I said, I have no reason whatsoever to trust you. I offered you a place to sleep! And in return for my hospitality, you refuse me the one connection to my sister I currently have besides a baby who can’t even speak, and you treat that baby carelessly?”
Remus stood in front of her, shocked and breathless, a red patch blooming on his left cheek. “I… I…” he stammered.
“You’re sorry, is what you are if you ever want to come near my nephew again.”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Remus replied quickly.
“Damn right you are,” Petunia muttered. “Now let’s get you some ice.”
Petunia flounced past Remus. He stared, dumbfounded, for a moment. When he appeared in the kitchen, Petunia had filled a plastic bag with ice. She sprinkled some salt into the bag and wrapped it up in a thin towel. When she turned away from the sink, Remus was a few steps behind her. “Here.” She thrust the ice towards him.
“Thank you.” Remus pressed the ice to his face, hissing quietly. Petunia watched him, her rage calming, but still apparent. “Their names were Peter and Sirius.”
“What?”
“Our other friends. Peter Pettigrew… and Sirius Black.” The second name sounded heavy in Remus’ voice, like a big sigh after a long day.
“Oh.” Petunia leaned against the countertop, her shoulders falling out of their tense, battle-ready state.
Remus nodded. “Sirius and I were… we were especially close. But then he did some terrible things. He betrayed James and Lily. He murdered Peter and twelve innocent Muggles. I still don’t understand how he could have done it.” He closed his eyes and out a long breath. “You can understand, I hope, why I don’t want to talk about them. Not now.”
“I do.” Petunia reached over to move the hand holding the ice pack aside. “Keep that on. How does it feel?”
“It stings a little,” Remus admitted.
“Sit down. I think we both need some tea, don’t you?”
Remus sat. “Yes, I think that would be lovely.” Petunia busied herself with the kettle. Remus smiled slightly. “I’m glad Harry’s in your hands. You make a good mother.”
“Thank you,” Petunia said. Her back was turned, but her tone indicated her grin.
“Have you got any other children?” asked Remus.
“No, I’m afraid I haven’t.” She readied a small tray with biscuits and tea paraphernalia as the water boiled.
“Do you think you’ll ever have a child of your own?”
Petunia shook her head. “I’ve always wanted children, but I’m not terribly interested in finding them a father. I’ve looked into adoption, but it’s terribly expensive, and no orphanage will adopt to a single mother.”
Remus studied her curiously. “No father… Another mother, perhaps?” Quickly, he added, “Forgive me if I’m overstepping.”
“It’s fine.” Petunia set the tray on the table as the kettle whistled. She hurried to get it. “And no. Goodness, no. I’ve never been interested in anyone, really.” She poured their tea.
“Hmm,” was all Remus said. He murmured his thanks when he got his cup, but there was a coldness about him, now: a distance, as if he’d stepped a few feet back, even though he hadn’t moved at all.
A knot of worry rose in Petunia’s stomach. “Do you think I’m odd? People have never really understood…”
“No, no,” Remus assured her, sympathy warming his eyes and his voice. “I might know a bit about what that’s like.”
“You mean, you’re not interested in anyone?” Petunia asked hopefully. Remus shook his head, and Petunia let out a quiet “oh.” Her follow-up question hung, unspoken, in the air, but Remus remained silent.
Petunia broke the tension.
“I should show you the flat.”
Remus looked up at her, his brows raised. “You’re still willing to let me stay?”
“I don’t see why not.” Petunia stood, beckoning to Remus. “Come on. You look tired. You should get settled and rest.”
Remus got up and followed as Petunia led him to the flat. It was just above her own flat on the ground floor. The rooms were bare except for some simple furniture: a few chairs, a table, and, Petunia promised, a fairly comfortable bed. Remus thanked her profusely, promising he’d find a way to repay her. She just shrugged it off, saying, “Any friend of Lily’s is welcome here.” Remus thanked her again, and she left to allow Remus some much-needed rest.
-o0o-
Later that evening, Petunia went up to the flat with another plate of casserole. She raised a hand to knock, but pulled away when she heard a voice in the room.
“They were my best friends, Alastor, of course I want justice, but you’re forgetting that I was closer to Sirius than any of them. He deserves a trial. It’s only fair.”
Remus was talking to someone, but Petunia couldn’t tell who or how. That particular flat didn’t have telephone service at the moment.
Whoever was on the other end must have said something, because Remus spoke again. “Obviously, I trust Dumbledore, but I don’t understand how he could just let Sirius go to Azkaban without a trial! Without even hearing his story!” There was a pause as Remus listened to the other person. When he spoke again, he was nearly shouting. “Maybe so, Alastor. Maybe I’m just so in love that I can’t see that Sirius is a mass murderer. Or maybe I love him enough that I’m the only one in the Order willing to see the good in him and know that he’d never do something like that. You all write him off just because you still only think of him as a mischievous schoolboy! You-” The other person must have interrupted him. “Oh,” he gasped quietly. “I should go, then. But I’m not done with this, you hear? Let me talk to Dumbledore... Goodbye, Alastor.”
Petunia stood outside the door, taking in what she’d heard, trying to make sense of what this all meant. She knocked.
“Come in,” Remus called. When she entered, he said, “I know you were listening. How much did you hear?” He was holding a mirror, and Petunia could have sworn she saw a flash of brilliant blue, despite the dingy colors of the flat.
“How did you know?!”
“I’m magic, remember?” Remus snapped. “How much?”
“Um, you want a trial for Sirius, but they won’t give him one… because you love him.”
Remus sighed. “So?”
“So what?”
“Aren’t you disgusted? Repulsed?”
“What? No! Of course not!” Petunia set the plate down on the table and studied Remus curiously. “You told me you’re a werewolf, but not that you’re gay…”
“I’m not gay,” Remus corrected her. “I don’t really care about the gender of my partner, actually. Which doesn’t really impact anyone’s personal safety, unlike a dangerous, man-eating wolf.”
“Fair enough,” Petunia said, nodding. “I’m sorry, by the way. About Sirius. It must be very difficult for you.”
“Thank you. It is.” He gestured to the food. “Is that for me?”
“Yeah. I thought you might be hungry. This is Arabella’s. I tried some. It was very good.”
“Thanks.”
Petunia set a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s hard. I know as well as you do that it’s hard. But we move on, don’t we.”
Remus gave her a small, wan smile. “That we do. Thank you, again.”
“Good night, Remus.”
“Good night, Petunia.”