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Chapter Text

Chapter 1: Muddy Blood

If one were to ask Petunia about her decisions during that time she would have stared with dead eyes. It was a time she didn't want to remember. One that she refused to remember. It went against her being and thought process. The whole entire affair was unnatural. They were at war and she just felt like an inevitable concomitant of the process.

If she were to start at the beginning there would be two points to start. The first point was the birth of Lily, her younger sister and the brightest star in all the Evans' lives. Petunia prayed hard for a sister and then on the long, stormy night outside the waiting room of the tiny hospital. It was magical, life felt magical and in that small moment, the lives of the Evans were changed.

Two daughters and no sons made Mr. Evans a sometimes-unpleasant man. Mr. Evans decided very objectively as the two girls grew with not a son insight that Lily was made for greater things than their tiny town of Cokesworth had to offer. Petunia, on the other hand, would have to adjust.

Petunia was the agreeable sort. She had to be because from the day Lily took her first breath, she was demanding. A baby who refused to eat or sleep then later a toddler that called to a disaster like a tropical cyclone. Not that Petunia knew what any of that meant during that time.

When it was time for Petunia to bow to the roles placed upon a daughter, she did. Until her dad wanted a son. No, it was more like they needed a son. Petunia had wanted what they wanted because those were some of the coldest years of her life. They buried three boys in those years. Dad became angrier and Mum quieter. They blamed both themselves and each other for their lack of ability to produce a live son.

They tried until Mum could no longer stand another miscarriage. Two was enough, it was sometimes more than they could afford. Dad was not a factory worker but his weekly wages only covered enough for the four of them no matter how many pennies mum forced the family to pinch.

Maybe that is why when Petunia asked what season to define Lily, she would always say winter even if Lily had not been born in the warmest parts of a very cold season. Lily made the coldest winter in their lives bearable for their parents. Lily made Petunia feel empty and inadequate. Yet, in spite of all those reason Petunia could never hate her sister. Their younger years meant that Lily didn't remember much. She was aware of the day their Dad took Petunia aside and told her she had to be strong for the rest of them. That good little children were seen, not heard and obeyed their parents. That it was her duty beyond anything else they asked from her to be there for Lily.

So she took her place in life to be the fairy godmother to Lily. A duty she took seriously. Petunia was seen, not heard and she very rarely fussed, threw tantrums or talked back. She soothed the chaos of Lily's cyclone and made sure that everything around them remained as normal. She thrived on the rules, patterns and demands of normalcy.

She let life be enchanted by Lily even as she first lost her to Severus. The Snape's were a family the poorer side of an already poor town. There was something about them, it started when Mrs. Snape practically ordered Petunia to come by after they had dropped Lily and Severus off at the train station.

Petunia felt empty when the train left. She felt like the coldest part of winter. The bone-deep chill had no place at the end of the summer. The summer had been tinged with regret, Petunia knew that someday Lily would leave her, but Lily was never really supposed to leave this early. She was not ready to let go of her sister. Lily had never belonged to her, but without Lily, Petunia did not know what else to do. There was no chaos to draw the lines of order on.

Petunia, in all honesty, did not know what to expect of that night. Mrs. Snape was 'odd', for the lack of a better word. She and Mr. Snape were both difficult taskmasters to please. They communicated differently than her parents. It was like not a moment between them was wasted. A sense of equality existed in their marriage. A marriage not of roses and castles but made of rough hands and backbreaking work.

Their silences screamed out. They screamed loudly at each other only to reach conclusions quietly afterwards. There were unspoken rules in their house like in most places. The kitchen was split into two parts and unlike most houses surrounding them the Snape's owned 4 gas hobs. Two for cooking and two for potion brewing. It was not that Mr. Snape detested magic; he had a healthy fear of it. One had to when they decided that they were adamantly going to marry the Prince's daughter.

Mr. Snape took one look at Petunia and in her found a kindred spirit. Petunia didn't how it started but she refused to go back home after school and would instead run with all the other girls who lived close to Spinner's End. Those years defined a lot of what she learned outside the classroom. While Lily and Severus spend hours at Hogwarts learning to cast spells. Mr. Snape drilled her in maths and insisted she learned how to fix an engine or hotwire a car. Mrs. Snape made her stand and brew potions for hours on end until her hair was greasy and the sweat poured out.

Petunia turned thirteen when they made her learn what it was like to be wanted. They taught her that although chaos existed, her job was to draw lines of order within them. Her mother stopped questioning why she refused to listen. Her father pinched his lips tight at what he considered rebellion. Mr. Snape for all his bad habit tended to be a more present father than her own had been; while Mrs. Snape never for a moment wanted to be her mother.

Life found itself at a monotony in those early years. There was school, Spinners End and home. She shot up like a beanpole and started to pick up netball. The fast-paced action and the rough games exhausted her and she grew popular because of it. When Lily wasn't there people tended to look at her. The other Evans' girl with the blonde hair and long limbs. The one who never talked back and wore a skirt a tad shorter than the regulation demanded.

Petunia picked up injuries, only to have Mrs. Snape look at them after she cruelly commented that her mother knew nothing of how to take care of her present daughter. It was Mrs. Snape she went to when she got her first period. The Evans paid a price for not caring enough about their first daughter and by the time they had woken up she found another family to take her in.

Before Petunia knew it four years had passed. Four years of growing and that meant that Lily and Severus would be home for the summer. It meant no more potion lessons or having Mr. Snape walk her home after his shift at the factory. Summer meant long days were Petunia would tan like a sailor and Lily's pale skin would turn red and blister. Severus would be there too, he would taunt her then slip an interesting book about wizarding history, maybe they would be able to sneak off to London again where Petunia would wonder into Gringotts and pester the goblins until they threatened to decapitate her.

She waited eagerly between platform 9 and 10, while Mrs. Snape waited for Lily and Severus on the other side of the barrier. Her summer had already started and her skin had already turned tan with the amount of time she played outside. She smiled and ran to Lily as she walked out the barrier. Severus had once tried to explain to her that Lily was like the sun, but all Petunia saw was winter and chaos. She hugged her sister and squashed down the jealousy. Lily was her sister and she vowed to protect her the moment her green eyes focused on Petunia's face for the first time.

"Mudblood." Petunia heard the hissed words, from a boy much older than her.

Lily tightened her hold on Petunia and Petunia's blood boiled. She knew from the way it was said that it was an insult. Any jealousy Petunia felt on that day spluttered down until the embers of it burned hot as she turned around to take a good look at his face. Robes that had to be made of expensive material and the smirk of somehow who thought he was better than the average human. Petunia hated people like that. They reminded her of the Dursley family who sent their oldest to Smeltings.

Petunia was not a fan of people who looked down on her family. Lily pulled Petunia for a hug. Her red hair hung loose and she forced Petunia to lose herself in a sea of cold red.

Lily let go and grinned at her sister. It was as if the insult had been forgotten. The words rang in Petunia's ears though. She was no stranger to rough language but there was something about this particular insult that did not sit well with her. They reminded her too much of the skinheads that popped up around town. The ones who thought that they had a right to hurt people just because they themselves couldn't stay afloat.

Maybe Petunia wouldn't have been so worried if Mr. Snape had not insisted on walking them home that night with his gun tucked into his jeans. Mr. Evans then proceeded to quietly tell them that there would be a curfew this summer and that they would have to be back home before the streetlights came on.

The world was changing and that summer sparked the change that would probably define the rest of their lives.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Dying factories

The factory had changed hands. The new owners of the factory were a young man named Mr Ross. He went to the same church as the Evans' and the Snape's. There was speculation when the factory was put up for sale. Not everyone liked or agreed with Mr Devon but he was loyal to Cokesworth. He was loyal to its people and everyone who worked for the factory knew that.

Tobias did not like Mr Ross therefore on principle Petunia did not like him either. His touches lingered a tad too long when he came to shake her hand for peace or talk with her dad. When Petunia commented about how she felt about this Mrs Snape said nothing while herding Petunia into Sunday school where she taught the senior class.

Like many small towns, theirs revolved around two things, the factory and church. Mr Ross was a man who owned the factory and feared God, therefore he had a far greater say in their lives than his age would allow. Petunia noticed it, she also thought it was ridiculous that barely out of school Clara Whitehead seemed to think that simpering beside a man like that made her more desirable.

Clara despised Petunia and if Petunia was more naïve she would have been oblivious as to why. She played netball with Clare for the last year, the girl was vicious and petty as a captain. Clara was who Petunia could have been had circumstances allowed her to be born as the daughter of someone with wealth. Petunia would have been just as petty and vicious. Petunia had been the youngest girl on the team and she hadn't let go of an inch. She ran faster, jumped higher and desperately did it all to get out of this town. All she earned out of it was the ire of a girl who reminded her too much of Lily when she was drunk on power.

Petunia had been far more worried about attempting her GCSE's and the extra hours she wasn't on the netball court were spent at Spinner's End getting help for school. As much as Petunia loved her parents their educational aspirations for her were aimed far too low. Eileen mentioned it time and again.

Petunia may not have Lily's or Severus' natural grasp for information but she craved knowledge and Mr and Mrs Snape fed that craving. Mr Snape would spend his shifts explaining concepts that he remembered before he had to drop out of university and Mrs Snape set out extra work on magic before Mr Snape came home. Things that focused on patterns like astronomy, runes and arithmetic sequences.

Magic was something that Tobias could not get behind no matter how easy it made their lives or put food on the table. To him, magic went against the natural order of things. It tore down the order he had known all his life and forced him to reckon with a force that he could not control.

It wasn't long before Runes and Arithmancy charts made as much sense as the equations in her chemistry and maths book. Not that life was perfect around Spinner's End. Life just felt more real in comparison to the cookie-cutter life with her mom and dad.

It was on one of those hot summer days were Petunia came home after playing netball that Mrs Snape and her mum had tea waiting in the kitchen. She had had speeches from them before, separately, and never together. It was weird to see Eileen in a dress with stockings and a summer hat.

Eileen never ventured out this far when she didn't have to. It wasn't like her and Petunia would be going down to Spinner's End later on. Petunia washed her hands and sat down, ignoring the heavy atmosphere of the room.

"Tobias lost his job, could you stay out of Spinner's just for today?" Eileen asked.

Petunia nodded and although her head was screaming at her to disobey, she had learned that disobeying Eileen came with consequences of an unpleasant nature.

"I'll see you at church then," Petunia said.

Eileen nodded and lifted her hand to stroke Petunia's hair on her way out. Lily and Severus were on the dining room table with homework spread out and glasses of cool lemonade in front of them. Petunia pulled out some sweets from the corner store where she worked most of the morning before going to Eileen's to help brew.

"How is OWL's coming along?" Petunia asked.

"Do you have any idea what's happening in History?" Lily asked pushing the textbook on her.

Petunia never had to sit through boring History of Magic lessons, so she enjoyed it to a certain extent. It wasn't like maths or science but in her eyes, it felt like she was reading a storybook. The magical world had nothing to do with her and therefore she wasn't as affected by its History. It would be years before Petunia realized how false her assumptions about Magic were.

"Nothing more than both of you should know," Petunia said and pulled out her GCSE level notes from the bookbag. "I don't know how much help this is but it should at least cover something."

Petunia went upstairs to shower before her next shift. The Adam's were a Muslim family that moved into town and owned a corner shop that sold spices, odds and ends. Eileen was there and more often than not sent Petunia there to replenish the potion stock of spices when they ran low. It was cheaper than trying to go all the way to Diagon Alley. Petunia didn't mind, but she was surprised when they offered her a job over the summer while Mrs Adam's had the new baby.

The late afternoon shift was her least favourite. Children with tired grabby hands and even more exhausted workers from the factory. It made the day absolutely miserable as she didn't even have things to look forward too. Mum had been strict about the curfew, so strict that she wouldn't let Severus go home if the street lights went on. She insisted that he sleep on the couch so often that he had a set of clothes always at the go at the Evans house.

The summer was turning out to be all sorts of pathetic. Severus and Lily were preparing for the OWL's. Tobias was not too keen on talking about the OWL's. He thought it was a waste of Severus' talent and brains. It led to a lot of uncomfortable situations at Spinner's End when they were all present in the house together.

There were too many nerves in the air. Nerves that did not seem to disappear at all given the kind of tension. It reminded Petunia that Lily was growing up and her piece of winter would no longer need her. Lily would have to find her own place in a society that deemed her as worthless.

"Mudblood."

That word kept ringing in her head. A gong that refused to stop ringing. What did it mean for someone like Lily? It was stupid to keep thinking thought that no longer concerned her. Something did not feel right at the moment and she was terrified that it was about to get worse.

"A penny for your thoughts," a voice said. There was no gentle ask to the voice. It was a voice Petunia heard often over the last few years.

"Mr Ross," she said carefully. "How can I help you today?"

Petunia did not want to help him with anything. Her shift would end soon and she had to walk home before the street lights came on. It had been a terrible day overall and seeing Mr Ross after she had heard what happened to Tobias only served to make her feel worse than she had already felt.

"A couple of cardamom pods if you have them. I can't seem to find them around here." Mr Ross looked apologetic as if he felt sorry for wasting Petunia's time.

Petunia fished out a packet from under the till where they kept the more expensive spices.

"They aren't on the shelf," she said as she rang his purchase up of black tea, milk and cardamom pods.

Eileen was the only other person she knew who made tea like that. She tried not to find him endearing. Petunia had eyes, she could see the appeal. He was polite and he went to church. He was rich and would make a good partner for Clara who loved to be adored.

Mr Adam came around to close the store as Petunia was just finishing up.

"Do you need me to walk you home?" Mr Ross asked. He had waited for Petunia just outside the store.

"I'll be fine, there is enough light," Petunia nodded and began walking.

He insisted and Petunia knew not to say otherwise again. She had this conversation with Tobias not a year ago. A conversation about men and how they viewed her now that she had turned sixteen. Her mother started seeing her father at sixteen, but neither Eileen nor her mother had any idea how to broach the topic. So Tobias sat her down and told her.

He told her about all the awful things men thought about, only to be taken aback when Petunia admitted, she thought about them too. There were names of boys she had crushes on and a couple she had kissed on a dare or at a party somewhere.

There were the rugby players in between all of this. The ones who watched her play on the weekend. Tobias almost laughed with relief when she said this. Her voice was small as if she was still as unsure as the first time Eileen brought her home.

But Mr Ross was another being altogether. He was taken by none other than Clara; Petunia knew better than to be on Clara's bad side. Petunia was there when Clara walked into school flaunting the new ring. It made the butterflies in her stomach calm down for only a minute because Clara had something else to focus on that day.

Petunia mauled in her head, how best she would leave but Mr Ross said it himself as they turned around the corner where her home was. He held her hand and kissed her on the cheek. There wasn't a moment given for Petunia to refuse.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: The Acts of Men

Sometimes Severus had moments of vulnerability. They were few and far in between but they were present and the Evans' had learnt what the signs were to look for. On those days he wouldn't leave Mrs Evans' side and would instead help her for hours in the kitchen: baking, canning and pickling. Where his own parents were critical and harsh, the Evans' home had become like a shelter to him away from everything else.

Tobias did not understand magic. He knew it brought money to the table and that Eileen had wanted to pursue a studying it, just as he wanted to do sciences. That was it, he believed that it was cheating and as Tobias and Eileen were dating, the inequality became more apparent to him that overtime he could not even bear the thought of having his everyday life tainted by it.

Potions he allowed in his house because it was similar enough to what was done by the pharmacist and his own mother growing up. The rest of it was destructive enough that it had to be hidden. So hidden it was because of its lack of relevance in their lives.

That kind of order had not been easy for Severus, but Severus was not someone who thrived in environments of harshness and darkness. When he was younger, he was the kind of boy who just wanted love, a lot of obvious shows of love.

He was the daughter Mrs Evans wanted. The kind that was gentle, but had a temper when it came to the right moments. Severus was good at playing the game, he had to be, he wasn't born with a lot of benefits in life. He didn't have Lily's beauty nor did he possess Petunia's practicality. Petunia thought that Severus had his head in the clouds, but by heavens did he have a vile streak a mile wide, one that Mrs Evan's helped cultivate. Whether out of spite, her mother wouldn't say, but there it was and when it burned, the wick held for a long time and steadier than a surgeon's hand.

It was not Petunia that Severus sook out for advice, therefore she was surprised when he was outside as she tied her shoelaces for her morning run. She has a trial for the private school she was aiming for, on a netball scholarship. They had approached her after a tournament and Petunia was determined to get in. She agreed with Severus on this point that they were both better than this, they were better than the tiny town of Cokesworth with it's dying factories.

"Do you have a minute?" He asked looking at the ground.

"Yea, but you have to come on the run with me," Petunia said, "I have to be at work after this."

Petunia took off and Severus tried to keep up. She took pity on him and slowed down jogging on the spot as he caught up with her.

"What's going on?" Petunia asked.

"Dad isn't getting any better and I have to get a job. I need to go back," Severus huffed out.

"Go back to where? Tobias would never withhold your education from you."

She could tell Severus didn't believe her; not that he had to. She just had to protect him and make him believe that he was looked after. It wasn't easy to convince him of anything. He didn't grow up believing that sunshine and rainbows existed. That was sad but understandable. People from the other side of the river didn't have a lot to hope for and Petunia knew that better than most.

"If you are looking for a job though, the local shop is in need of a mechanic. I could nudge Tobias into taking the job, or at the very least make him consider it?" Petunia contemplated aloud.

"No," Severus' voice was firm.

Petunia understood his apprehension about asking anything of Tobias. He was fickle when drunk and not having work made him very fickle. He spent most of his time at the pub and anything that he did not spend at the pub festered its way into Spinner's End.

It steeled Petunia's resolve that Tobias was right. Mr Ross was bad for the area. He had neither the roots nor the loyalty to turn their luck around. She picked up the pace again when she heard Severus' breathe lighten, past Mr Ross' house as he drank his coffee. Petunia ignored his stare and soldiered on turning the corner around the Whitehead home. It was too early in the morning for any one of the people who lived on that side to be awake. She hoped that Severus hadn't noticed Mr Ross, but Severus was perceptive in everyone's case but his own and Lily's.

"You know he likes you," Severus said.

"Who? Darren? The boy called me a slut after I refused to have sex with him," Petunia said.

"Ross, but Darren? You went out with Darren!"

"I told Lily on one of the letters, also Ross is engaged to Clara and if he wants to make the mayor happy he's going to keep it that way," Petunia said firmly.

She slowed down into a jog as they turned back into the kitchen door. Petunia pulled off her shoes and drank water straight from the hosepipe.

"I'm not going to be here much longer either. I'm getting out of here. I can't be tied down by a boy no matter how pretty he says he is."

She knew the conversation with Severus was not over completely. He would tell Lily and Lily would then want to know the details. There was nothing sordid but Mr Ross made Petunia feel dirty and used, even though he was just looking. Petunia went up to shower. She only had one shift at the store today before she promised Eileen, she would run deliveries for her.

The shift, as usual, was pretty boring, yet draining all at once. Petunia was never a people's person. She could fake it but her personality was too prickly for her to fake anything but naïve sense of kindness. The boys she had dated over the last year had been very clear about that. She felt the jealousy boil up, it was the same boys who would pick her up during the year only to lose their minds when Lily came home. Petunia tried to calm herself before she walked into Spinner's End but the day had left her in a terrible mood.

She went in through the kitchen door and washed her hands before putting a pot of coffee on. Eileen would not be in for a couple of hours yet; she was out helping deliver a baby. Tobias hadn't started drinking then, so she gave him a mug and settled down as he spent the next few hours working through physics, chemistry and maths with her. Petunia often wondered what would have happened if Tobias and Eileen hadn't fallen so hard for one another. They definitely would have been more successful without each other.

"How is the application process to the college going?" He asked her.

"Not too bad, I have netball trails next week then I wait, either way, I'll be made captain of the netball team for next season. So it really doesn't matter whether I get in or not," Petunia shrugged.

Petunia stood up packed her books and took a look at the potion list Eileen kept running. While Tobias cooked dinner, she finished up the potions bubbling, bottled and started the bases for the next set that needed brewing. She then took a marker and crate that they kept around the house specifically for that reason.

She would take the motorbike, a gift refurbished from both Tobias and her dad to make the deliveries. Petunia called home to tell her mom she would be staying the night at Spinner's End and although she heard the disapproval in her mom's voice, she ignored it.

It was one of the few times where Petunia made her anger for her parents known. While they had been great at pulling it together for Lily, they had never done so for Petunia. It was always up to Petunia to be responsible, to look after everyone and to make sure that society at large viewed them as the perfect family. It was not difficult but Petunia was required to complete that image. They never asked her to be anything but mundane.

The Snape's, on the other hand, knew what it had been like to be tossed aside or to have your ambition damped. The Snape's had been strict about one thing when it came to all of the children. It was their God-given right to be ambitious, to be successful and most of all to be great at what they did. So the three of them were tenaciously ambitious, a very Slytherin trait if what Lily said was to be believed.

Petunia put her helmet on and began the deliveries. Tobias locked the door and walked to the pub while Petunia sorted out who owed Eileen what. Sometimes families could not afford to pay a single penny. Eileen would then accept other things, a lock of first-cut baby hair, seeds from a particularly successful crop or food. It was Petunia's job on these deliveries to keep track of things like that. To make sure that the rich paid in coin and the poor paid in kind.

It was a slow process at times and this evening the process slowed down to almost a snail's pace. Darren's mother ordered a special batch of soap, the kind that made your skin glow, the kind woman used to attract a man. She had made the biggest show of inspecting the goods, bars of dark crumbly soap that not even Mrs Snape gave to the Evans girls for free. Had it been anyone else Petunia would have let the irritation show, but Darren had smiled so sweetly as he fetched the money and placed it into her palms, letting his fingers gently catch the crevices in her palm.

She felt herself weaken and found herself agreeing when he said he'd be around to take her out in two hours. It would not be a parental approved plan, but they did not have the power to enforce any of the rules if she used her own money and came home after her evening shift.

She put everything away and wrote a letter to Eileen telling her where she would be for the next couple of hours. They would be a few towns over at most, besides Darren had nice lips and she wanted to bruise them.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: Players and their games

Petunia pulled her boots on. There wasn't much to do apart from wait for whoever would drive them to pick them up. Darren had given her an appreciative look, which was nice, but Petunia was defiantly done with being nice. She had been nice the whole year and she deserved a break and a little bit of fun just like everyone else.

Ross had come to pick them up and Clara definitely was on something because she dangled a flask in front of Petunia, with all the confidence of someone who was definitely not sound of mind. Petunia adored this side of Clara. The strangely vulnerable yet valiant leader, in some ways she thought that she was too good for Ross.

They passed the flask back and forth as Mr. Ross parked in front of a huge, almost mansion-like building. Clara grabbed Petunia and made sure the flask was empty before leaving it in the car. Clara's lipstick was still perfect and the rouge that she smudged on her cheeks made her look like summer.

The thin summer shirt probably was not enough clothing for the occasion but Petunia did not care. It really did not matter at the end of the day because Clara found a netball court on the property. Then her majesty demanded someone find a ball. There were very few people who could say 'no' to Clara on a normal day, a drunk Clara was someone you just obeyed and Petunia itched to move her body. They managed to get enough people and someone found a ball.

Petunia as normal played centre, while Clara took up her left wing. She winked and Petunia found herself trusting Clara the same way she did just before a game. It was weird but if there was one thing that Clara deemed as important, it was winning, because daddy did not raise a loser. Petunia appreciated that with some begrudging honour.

Someone had found a whistle and was referring the match. The ball flew up and Petunia smacked it straight into Clara's arms. It was then that the opposition woke up. Clara had made sure their school had decimated everyone else in the league that school year. It was the reason why Petunia was going to leave their little town and she owed Clara enough to play her soul for her.

For all those who didn't understand netball, they would probably wonder what made people run after a ball, over a tiny court when hockey was available. With Petunia it had been the control aspect, it had been the fierceness and the fact that she was good at what she did. Petunia liked being good, she liked it when her ambition paid off and she loved how surprised people looked when she blew them away.

Lily once came to one of her games over Easter. It had been interesting to watch Lily look at her with awe. It was an expression that Lily reserved for magic, it was glorifying to realize that tiny muggle things could do that to her as well. That Lily, for all the magic she held, was human too.

Petunia's mind worked on overdrive as she made play after play. Clara helped minimize the mistakes that they made and before either of them had realized it, half-time was called. Petunia chugged water. There were bruises from where she fell and the stockings she had worn were ripped. Clara looked no worse apart from her lipstick being smudged during the game. As they changed sides on the court Petunia once again took charge.

It felt amazing to be playing as the alcohol burned from her system and at the end of the game; she felt a rush when the opposite side had been decimated. Clara yelled in victory and jumped on Petunia kissing her cheek before Ross pulled Clara off her.

Darren grabbed her waist and twirled her around. The night was the balmy kind, the most magical kind and she kissed Darren hard. There was nothing to really think about it, no fireworks just something fun, a distraction for a moment. Which was fine, they weren't serious and when he got too handsy which was almost completely inevitable Petunia drew back claiming she would be back.

They still had an hour or so before Ross would inevitably herd them all back home. Petunia told Darren that she wanted another drink before she went through with anything and he obliged easily. Petunia knew she had to put something out tonight or pray that he would fall asleep. There was music inside along with sofas. Someone was tinkering around on the piano. Petunia could not help but laugh, the tune was something light and fun. It reminded her of when Severus would be welcoming enough to let Lily and her braid his hair and put a daisy crown on his head while they called him Oberon as they played their stupid, relatively childish games.

Petunia longed to fit in with their picture. If only she too had been blessed with magic, just enough to get to Hogwarts. Petunia wandered into the kitchen and poured herself the first thing her hand reached for. She drowned the liquid, it was stupid for her as a muggle to want to be part of something so badly that she let it define her. She had to pull herself out of the spiral because regardless of what she felt, she still owed it to Darren to put on a show. She found him talking to someone who introduced himself as Marvolo. Not that Petunia cared much as the alcohol sunk in, she tucked herself on the edge of the armchair where they were talking.

The best thing a woman could sometimes be was an accessory, a lesson her mother taught her. Petunia was fine with that because it meant that she was wanted. That Darren wanted her and she fantasized that if for one minute she let go of her ambition and decided to settle how much easier her life would be. Darren would go to university and she would play the part of the dutiful girlfriend. The one who stayed at home and waited for him, she would take a typing course where ever he went to university and they would come back and get married.

It seemed simple, a good mixture of the dance that Eileen and her own mother had taught her. There would be no more talks of science or maths or biology. She would drink her raspberry tea until she was ready to have children. Petunia lazily traced the patterns in the future wondering if she would ever be content with just living life. She knew she would have to be. Lily would marry well, but it was her duty as the oldest daughter to marry in order to respectfully be apart of building something that Lily could come back to.

These were the idle thoughts that filtered her mind when she was tipsy. That and maybe that she wasn't all that ready to do anything more with Darren. He was a nice guy but Eileen would be disappointed if she just settled for nice. She found Marvolo looking at her, his brown eyes had a reddish tinge to them that just made Petunia think of Lily.

Darren had gotten up to go get another drink. Petunia would have followed him but they still had half an hour before they had to leave and Petunia would rather stay far away from the idea of having sex with Darren.

"Why are you here with him if he repulses you so much?" Marvolo asked.

Petunia shrugged and felt the need to defend Darren, "He's ok, he kisses well and apart from wanting what he deserves, he isn't too bad."

Marvolo's lip pulled up into a smile. He looked at her intensely and before she could comprehend it she was following him into what appeared to be a master bedroom. It was not that Petunia was new at being desired, it just wasn't something that she felt comfortable sharing with people. People looked at her like she wasn't real, that she did not have the same needs and wants as everyone else. It frustrated her, she wasn't as approachable as Lily.

So it still felt surprising when Marvolo pulled her to his lap and kissed her hard as if he wanted to replace the bruising left behind by Darren.

"You smell like essence, murtlap essence and lavender," he whispered into her ear as she traced the edge of his face with her mouth.

Maybe this is what falling was supposed to feel like. A gesture that felt electric. Was this what Eileen and Tobias saw in each other. Petunia could feel herself putting herself out for this person, this one man who seemed to unravel everything she knew about herself in ways that not even she for all her control had the ability to acknowledge.

He bit hard on her neck, hard enough to leave marks, over and over again. Aggression and ambition that Petunia could get behind as she traced the way up to his face again. There was a knock on the door and Clara walked in.

"Fucking Merlin," Marvolo swore.

Not that any of those words that shouldn't have registered as normal vocabulary made it to Petunia's ears.

"Tuney, Ross said that he's leaving. Something about work tomorrow," Clara sang unashamed.

Petunia didn't bother to fix herself but she did give Marvolo one last look before walking with Clara letting the crisp morning air sober her up. She would deal with Darren later, after the netball trails.

Chapter Text

Petunia would have liked to think had she had known better that she probably would not take the actions that she had taken. She stumbled with Clara into the Whitehead property and collapsed onto Clara’s bed as they held in giggles. The headache she woke up with two hours later didn’t feel bad but it wasn’t the best either.

Clara had already showered and was ready for the day and offered to walk Petunia home. The offer was slightly cold but Petunia did not blame Clara. Last night was an anomaly and a mixture of terrible life decisions, the trail was coming up quickly and Petunia knew if she didn’t make it that she would never forgive herself. She was better than this and her lapse in judgement should never have happened.

She walked back to Spinner’s End and didn’t bother sneaking in. She really did not have to. Tobias’ disapproval did not verbalize itself apart from an “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Petunia did not and the warning seemed to ring in her ear like church bells until Sunday. The trials would take place early Tuesday morning and Petunia was left to wonder if she had done enough to get into this college.

Her dad had said if she really wanted to, she was welcome to try for a spot at university. Which Petunia really did want. She wanted the space to grow, to be her own person and for a moment just be another face in the crowd. All of this was not possible if she chose to stay in Cokesworth. They all knew this, but studying something non-practical may not be an option. Lily’s Hogwart’s education had not been cheap, even with the school subsidizing a portion of her fees.

They didn’t talk about it when Lily was home because Lily really had no place knowing how sometimes her education was financially draining even when she had to buy almost everything second or third hand. Magic wasn’t cheap but it was something that Lily had to do, Petunia understood that and made sacrifices along the way in order for Lily to learn to be a part of something.

Petunia was a good sister, she had to be one so that Lily could get the life she deserved. Petunia had to be happy with the mundane and normal. Which she was on most days where she was able to control the ambition. She thought that she had been clear to Darren that it was a one-day thing, that she really did not want to be with him more than that one day.

Darren had not seen it like that. He liked Petunia, called her a Balanchine ballet. A weird leftover obsession when his mother put him in ballet class to get rid of access energy. He started by joining her on her run in the morning. It annoyed her that he was able to keep up, that he pushed her into the corner with his speed. She really didn’t know much about him, apart from the fact that he was a good dancer, so good that he was going to school in London for ballet.

It had been something he had been teased for. For not being a man’s man but Darren shrugged it off because when it came to being someone, girls loved him. He was sensitive, beautiful and could throw you into the air with one hand. Petunia heard the stories and her dad pulled her aside one day after work to specifically ask if Petunia knew what she was doing.

Lily was cooped up inside the house for hours on end with Severus trying to learn for OWL’s. People did not see her unless she stopped to get ice-cream during Petunia’s shift. It was Lily who pointed out the fact that regardless of what Petunia felt, Darren would not go away. This was not like Mr. Ross who had someone else who had to be loyal too. Darren was unattached and he very much ran after Petunia.

“You kissed him and gave out the wrong signals didn’t you?” Lily asked.

“That’s was stupid,” Severus added sagely as he added the next set of ingredients to the potions.

Petunia kept stirring the tomatoes and checked on the bread baking in the oven. Tobias had managed to get a temporary job as a mechanic in the store just for the summer, so it fell on everyone else to keep up with everything.

“I kissed him, it was supposed to be a one-night thing. He insists on coming with me to trails tomorrow. I don’t even know if I want him there. He’s going to ballet school, I can’t deal with that kind of pressure. It’s like he wants to make whatever this is permanent. I can’t, he isn’t part of the plan,” Petunia rambled on, stirring more rigorously in hopes that the tomatoes will break down faster.

“We could always slip something into his tea,” Severus suggested.

Petunia could not help but laugh at that suggestion. Potions and poisons had their uses and most days she was glad that she was able to learn about them.

“You are better than him though,” Severus continued, “I’ve heard what the girls around here say. He runs with the Ross' and the Whitehead’s. They are a different breed altogether from us normal folk and I don’t think you are going to come out of this ok. He’s going to promise you a forever he can’t give you, we all know that.”

Petunia sighed. She wasn’t supposed to be thinking about this, about a boy who wouldn’t care for her when she left. They would both be in London if she made it to that school. The city was a big place though. A place she wasn’t familiar with and people she wasn’t familiar with but then it was time for her to move away. She had to because to a certain extent she promised Lily she would look after her. Something told her that it was smarter to be away right now.

The thoughts swirled in her head unpleasantly as she got on the train early that morning. Her mother and Eileen insisted on coming with her along with Lily, Severus and Darren. Darren had refused to let go of her hand and even gave her a pair of earrings that belonged to a teacher he respected greatly.

It was not that he wasn’t nice, but she didn’t see it going anywhere. He was too much for her to handle and he wasn’t enough for her to think of diving into his world. Artistic types like him were the kind of men Petunia liked the least. They had discipline but were too eccentric. They didn’t care much for steady employment or a life outside of their art. Yes, she was making a lot of assumptions about someone she knew almost nothing about, but it couldn’t be helped.

The day was scorching hot as Eileen herded Severus and Petunia in one direction while Darren and her mother followed her to the school where she was auditioning. Petunia never felt inadequate among the wealthy when she was drunk, it was easy to pretend to be one of them when she was what they considered to be witty, charming and almost beautiful.

Darren pulled her into a corner and kissed her when her mother went to ‘powder her nose’. It did not leave her breathless, it was borderline inappropriate but he pulled her current school blazer in place.

“Go get them Miss Evans,” he said with a wicked grin.

Petunia smiled right back. Although Petunia could spend hours pointing out his flaws, Darren was fun and, in her drab, yet focused world she needed all the fun that she could get. The day of testing took forever. She took a written test, had an interview with her mother and then played netball for what seemed like hours. By the end of it, her head was pounding. Every part of her life was under scrutiny. Which Petunia could understand wholeheartedly, some moments? People who got into this school was usually able to get into a good university without much problem. That was something Petunia wanted.

She wanted the chances that she knew Lily would have gotten or her many brothers that were now in heaven. As a daughter she would never be enough in the eyes of her dad, therefore it was up to her to succeed beyond that of any son in that area. She had to for the people in her life and also the fact that she had to get out of Cokesworth.

Her mother left straight after the interview portion in order to go look for Petunia’s birthday present. So she waited with Darren.

“You did great,” he said as pulled on her blazer.

She glared at him, he got to wear shirts and pants even through the sweltering heat.

“it’s one of my favourite things about you. How in control you look when playing netball. Or when we are in science or maths class. It’s like you were born to do that,” he mused.

Petunia could not help but laugh. “Those things make sense to me. I’m terrible at art, but I guess it’s the same with you and ballet. Those things innately make sense to you. Sometimes I wonder why you like me though?”

Darren looked confused at the statement. “Why wouldn’t I?” he asked.

“You have the world at your feet. You can go to ballet and have any girl that you want at your fingertips, yet here you are with me. Someone who can’t let you go further than kisses behind the tree. Yet you insist on staying and I kind of wonder why, I guess,” Petunia said.

He unwrapped one of the sandwiches that they had bought along with a thermos of coffee.

“I like you, you have this thing about you that makes it certain that you’re going to be there even when I am gone. There is this sense of loyalty about you. Besides you’re pretty, like a Balanchine ballet pretty. If you weren’t so tall maybe you could have been a dancer,” Darren mused when he saw her blush. “Besides you’re the one who puts Clara in her place and you’ve looked after Lily for years. That’s the kind of thing a man notices.”

A woman came and pulled a sheet on the wall. About two dozen girls flocked to the sheet and Petunia burst into tears. Her name was on the page in bold, she had made it in. Darren next to her squeezed her hand and Petunia let it go to collect the orientation pack and be fitted for the new uniform. Petunia finally had permission to start living her life.

Chapter Text

Her birthday was a quiet affair. It was a standard Evans-Snape situation. They both chose to celebrate it at different times. This year she chose to spend the morning with Darren, he had wanted to take her out for a picnic in the morning.

Something which her dad raised his eyebrow at, but then ruffled her hair as she left the door wearing the new pair of heavy blue jeans and the leather jacket Tobias and Eileen had gotten her. The dragonhide was laced with protection runes. Petunia got on her bike and fetched Darren who then took over driving to one of the out skirted fields with a dam that they could swim at.

After her audition at the new school, they had sex for the first time in the same field. Darren was trying to teach her how to dance, the proper way. Sometimes it was just an excuse to touch her but other times it was to see if it led to something more. It usually let to something more, just because a new relationship was like that. They were physical and it made her really happy when she gave him a chance.

He wasn’t like Ross, who expected her to be there for him at all times. He was swamped too when Petunia was busy with the store and Spinner’s End; he was taking ballet classes. The Royal Ballet promised to be an intense experience, one that could break a soul who wasn’t prepared for the demands of life.

Most days they could only meet in the morning when the sun just started to come up. Darren would start earlier than her, pick her up and they would run whatever route fitted their fancy. She was content with that and with Darren. She hadn’t thought of Marvolo, because at the end of the day, he was just the same as the million other nameless faces that she kissed.

Whether her parents liked it or not in the area that they lived in, it wasn’t slutty for her to act the way she did. Petunia was loyal to her partners and people appreciated that. Darren made it easy to be loyal to because he laid his expectations out on the table.

Still it was her birthday and she was turning seventeen. One more year closer to absolute freedom. Darren kissed her neck as they swirled to imaginary music that he was humming. She was sure it was music from a new ballet, but she didn’t remember if he had said anything about a new ballet coming out.

“Tuney, do you think your school would mind terribly if you stayed by me over the weekend?” Darren asked.

“Probably, the sports mistress didn’t seem to like you all that much, when you were there during trials,” Petunia said.

As much as she liked Darren, she wouldn’t compromise her position at that school for him.

“I mean if I gave you a ring, they probably wouldn’t say anything,” Darren said, he rolled his eyes at that.

He was comfortable with his body and people the way few boys his age were. He had to be aware of it, sometimes after sex in his room she would find him looking critically at himself in the mirror. He spent a lot of time looking at the mirror and all Petunia knew about a relationship like that was that it wasn’t healthy.

“I don’t think I want a ring now, if ever,” Petunia mused aloud.

“The pressure?” Darren asked.

“The pressure,” Petunia said.

It was about the pressure; she wasn’t Clara who had to be good for one person. Eileen would be furious if she thought that way. There was something that defined someone as a woman and getting married was one of those things. Not that Petunia wanted any of that. Her job was to see that Lily, and to a certain extent, that Severus was looked after.

Her parents were getting old and she didn’t know how much longer Eileen and Tobias had left in them. She had spent too long watching over Severus and Lily to allow anything to happen to them that she couldn’t dig then out of.

Darren started packing up, Petunia promised that she would come with him after Clara’s wedding to help him move into the new flat in London. Petunia would be staying in the dorms, so it would be fun to move Darren in. It could be their last meeting in a while and she could sense that he wanted to make the whole experience worth something.

Petunia dropped him off and then made her way to Spinner’s End. Eileen made her wash her hands before entering the kitchen. Tobias ruffled her hair before giving her a twirl to see how the new jacket looked. She knew what that moment meant to him. After Severus, Eileen could not have any more children and he had come to see her as one of his own. The other muggle who was forced to comprehend magic and the stresses it caused.

Eileen on the other hand no qualms of that sort and set Petunia to work brewing on of her favourite potions ever. It was a much calmer form of the Amortentia. A love potion, usually given as a small favour during weddings. Tobias was in the kitchen as well: preparing lunch. the kitchen smelt of her favourite things in the world: wild vanilla, lavender and the spices in the Adam’s store, even with Tobias making eggs-in-purgatory.

The tomato and egg dish were a favourite of Petunia’s, she could barely smell it surrounded by Cupid’s Kiss, the common name of the potion. The creation of the potion had been something Eileen had created at school, when she had still been aiming to get a potion mastery. A kind of euphoria potion had its application in medicine.

As they sat down to eat after the potions were bottled to be delivered, her parents came with the cake. A simple vanilla sponge, Petunia’s favourite. Petunia could have stopped the moment forever, in Spinner’s End a moment where she felt loved beyond belief. Petunia should have known it was too good to be true, things usually were, when they were this happy.

An owl swooped in with St Mungo’s symbol and the Ministry of Magic crest. Eileen had been summoned as a potion maker, they were running short of hands and sent a portkey that would activate in an hour.

Eileen had read the letter aloud. Tobias eyes grew wide in fear, for in his years with Eileen news from the wizarding world delivered to their front door was rarely the good kind. Eileen knew it was probably Slughorn who had put her name up.

“I’m sorry, we have to cut this short,” Eileen said. Petunia knew it was bad when she heard Eileen apologize.

“Ma, what’s going on?” Severus asked.

Her parents looked worried. Petunia and Lily looked at each other. They had both decided that they would leave out the news that the wizarding world was becoming less muggle friendly.

They took five more minutes to eat cake before a flurry of packing started. Eileen walked to the bedroom to change her clothing. Tobias on the other hand started barking orders while packing Eileen’s bag, he had seen her do this only once before. The day Eileen’s father died to pay her last respects. Tobias rattled the potions and cooking list from memory.

“Lily, pack some soup and coffee in two separate thermoses’ and Sev please prepare some toast for your Ma, she’s probably not going to be in an eating mood, so anything she can nibble in the next couple of hours will be fun.” It was then a half a dozen owls swooped in. “Petunia tie the order onto the owl’s and take the money purse and put it straight into Eileen’s work bag, I don’t know how long she is going to be up there.”

Mr and Mrs Evan’s decided to leave then after telling Tobias that they would take all the children for the night. It was actually the best course of the plan, Petunia thought to herself. It would give Severus space to process what exactly was going on. Her mother would be the one to comfort Severus, to set him up with hot chocolate and a soft blanket. Severus needed soft and Tobias would want the space.

The tiny kitchen was a flurry of activity. Petunia put things in the fridge and prepped the next round of ingredients because she knew that Eileen would like to check the potions before she left, make last-minute adjustments and dictate how she wanted things to run for the next while. It was an uncomfortable living situation. Lily had not told her parents what was going on in the wizarding world and how unsafe things could become in the near future. In Lily’s eyes if their parents knew she would never be able to go back. The had always said that they rather their daughters were alive than anything else. Lily wasn’t meant to be a caged bird and Petunia would not let anyone else be the cage.

Tobias himself packed Eileen’s case with an extra set of clothes himself. He remembered the last time that he had, had to do this. There had been a poison going around, right before she was pregnant with Severus. Eileen had left for months on end and sometimes she came home to get a fresh set of robes and take a sip of coffee. She was a good brewer, fast and efficient but experimental as well. It was characteristic that made her a terrible cook but a brilliant potioneer.

Eileen looked every part of the pureblood which in the dark brown robes. Potion robes were long and tight, they were made for movement and out of durable, anti-flammable material. They were not robes made for fun, they were a set of working robes and people earned those robes. For Petunia is was weird to see her like this, the only time she did dress like this was when she visited her family. Only Severus went on those visits with her and even then, it was not frequent.

She looked like she didn’t belong at Spinner’s End and Petunia wondered what that meant. This summer had felt different and more off than before. Petunia knew that the world was changing in ways that she could not predict and it felt right that it was changing. It was good and dangerous. As with feelings, Petunia did not know how to label the apprehensiveness that she was feeling.

It only exemplified when Eileen looked and her, briefly gave her and kissed the top of her head. It felt more like a long-term goodbye. Lily felt it too. For all their collective efforts of keeping Lily oblivious to the harms and unfairness of the world, Lily felt it. She knew that if Eileen was being called back into the Wizarding world that the situation was not good. Her dormmates had explained it to her. How witches who turned their backs on their families were never met with open arms after everything was said and done. That brought the cold, winter fear into her heart.

Eileen looking every bit like the pureblood witch she was bred to be.

“Petunia, look after Lily and Severus for me won’t you,” Eileen whispered as Petunia once again hugged her. “Listen to your parents and Tobias. Keep away from all of this.”

The order peppered with warnings were something that Petunia knew she would follow. She rarely disobeyed Eileen knowing that the older woman knew better. The portkey activated before the rest of them could ask any questions. Eileen gave a small wave and one last longing look before slinging her bag.

They would be able to get over all of this over a couple of days. That felt like the tiniest sliver of certainty at the moment, that this was something that wasn’t going to last forever. In a blur of colour, Eileen was no longer there anymore and thus began the longest year Petunia ever faced.

Chapter Text

Eileen had expected to be looked down upon, purely because she had left every bit of what was considered to be an easy life in order to live honestly. This, on the other hand, was a pure disaster. Anyone, in her opinion, could be a St Mungo's general brewer as long as they followed the recipe and delivered on consistent results with their potion products.

The title of an experimental brewer was different. For one is someone who understood what exactly made a potion tick. They were well versed in the theme of working with a potion. Everyone's process was different, there were five of them in the room. Eileen knew them all by name and it was Charles Potter whom she was supposed to spend her mastery with that was in charge of them all.

Potions was not a collaborative environment. Everyone had their own methods, most of which had patents stuck to them.

"It's good to have you here Eileen," Charles said as he walked her down to the lion's den.

Eileen resisted the urge to pull her bag closer to her and focused on asking the relevant questions.

"What the hell is going on that you need me here?" she asked. "I know you all, like brothers, most of you. What exactly has tripped you up so much that you're dragging me back here to deal with."

"It's nothing like I've seen before," Charles said as he opened the door for her. "Nothing like any of us have ever seen before. We can't even separate the base out let alone the additions that make it poisonous. The only thing we do know is that thankfully bezoar work on it."

Charles spoke quickly and if they were still back at school, she would just ask for him to write it down. Not that any of it would make sense to her than, but with Charles, writing things allowed him to find solutions.

There were no brewing stations, just five people and Eileen put her bag down on the empty space and pulled on a pair of dragon hide gloves.

"Has anyone ingested it?" she asked as she swirled a vial of it.

'It' was a clear liquid as viscous as a truth serum. She popped the top and took a sniff. It smelt like Spinner's End, family and home. That scared her because it smelt like comfort and possibility. The actual potion had so many familiar elements. There was a smell of lightness and warmth. She may have thought it was an old family recipe, but certain things about it indicated otherwise. This potion had no visible traces or indicators that it could do anything other than be used as a recreational drug and Eileen knew that it had not been in the drug scene while she was growing up.

Horace chuckled as he watched her dip her finger in the vail and give it a lick. Apart from making her feel incredible, it did little else, but it confirmed her suspicions of easily acquiring it to be used as a party drug. The ingredients tasted expensive and dare she say almost pure. She got why they were frustrated; she would be too because every one of them had brewed something like this at least once. It was almost like a right of passage.

"Well, Horace did, but even a whole mouthful nearly stopped his heart. We barely got the bezoar into him," Rowan Odgen said. "It could have something to do with his age though."

It was curious because although bezoar was foolproof even a small piece of it was difficult for someone to get their hands on. Eileen wracked her head for obvious solutions. There was something none of them were seeing. Odgen, Slughorn, Potter and Fenwick were easily the best brewers of their respective generations and disciplines. The Mungo's brewers were no joke as well. Why did they need her then, they wouldn't have called on her for anything more than routine brewing because unlike them she did not physically own a Mastery.

"You guys think the poison was made by a woman and contain menstrual blood," she said. Eileen pulled a face, the entire notion of that being the main ingredient was archaic and the theory behind it had been disproven for centuries.

"It's the only thing we were able to separate out of any of it. By the time the finished product gets to us there is nothing that differentiates it from the other party stuff apart from this very strong feminine energy that one gets when they include menstrual blood in the potion," Fenwick said.

"But just to clarify, we didn't ask you here for blood, but menstrual blood usually means only a woman can brew the potions," Slughorn said.

Eileen's cheeks filled with colour. She had forgotten how direct the potions bunch was. "That doesn't make any sense, hedge-magic can be performed regardless of what's between one's legs. Covens have proved that to us regardless."

"But poisons with it are time-sensitive and heat sensitive. It would need a recent source and a brewer skilled enough. It's also been popping around and leaves no trace like a Killing Curse," Potter said with a shudder.

"But then it is a muggle problem and has nothing to do with us. What makes you suspect it's more than just another drug on the market?" Eileen asked.

"Look at the bottle," Fenwick said frustrated.

There is was, as clearly engraved into the glass, the sign of the Deathly Hollows. Definitely a something that was malicious then.

"Have you all tried reverse brewing and how many vials of these do I have to play around with, also I need menstrual blood, no more than 24 hours old?"

Odgen was the one who answered her, "We all did and there was nothing to neutralize it, it just made the rats sicker or die quicker, even Fenwick wasn't able to crack it using a pure hedge approach. Also, we have about three dozen vails and no clue how to brew it."

Eileen shook her head and walked to one of the brewing stations. It was going to be a long couple of days. She turned on the heat and dumped the potion into it. It made contact with the gold-lined bottom. No reaction, that was always a good sign. She took a deep breath and began to brew, hating quickly how much the thrill going down her spine sent her on a high. This was where she belonged, she was above whatever Spinner's End and Cokesworth had to offer her.

At Cokesworth, Petunia made Severus move out of Spinner's End. He fought her every step of the way. Out of some twisted sense of loyalty to his father he wanted to stay at home regardless of what Eileen's wishes had been. Petunia knew better, she was the one who interacted with Tobias every other day of the year. He was not the kind of person who would take magic storming back into their lives well. He would turn to alcohol without a second thought.

He had no work to keep him busy and although Eileen could take the beatings and the verbal abuse, Severus would be too sensitive and angry to do the same.

"Clean out your room now. There are only two weeks to Hogwarts and mum said it's ok for you to stay by us until then," Petunia ordered.

It was so unlike Severus to act like a petulant child, Petunia almost forgot he was one. He was such a stubborn person at times. Petunia was one of the few people who saw that side of him.

"I don't want to, what if mum comes back before then and he is like that?" Severus demanded.

"That's why you need to move out. He won't hurt me, and I can keep things running here by myself. I do it the rest of the year," Petunia purposefully threw those words at him, she had to make him understand that he wasn't wanted here. It was for his own good, they always only had his good in mind.

Petunia pulled out his trunk and began folding his clothes. If he wasn't going to do it, she would do it herself. It would be a while yet before the sun started setting, but she wanted to get Severus out of here quickly. Not soon after Eileen had left, Tobias had left to go to the pub. She didn't know the state Tobias was going to be in when he walked back. She didn't know who he was going to come back with and for everyone's sake, they did not need Severus to see this.

Petunia finished packing and pulled him out with her. She held his hand and dragged him home with her. Her mother would do the soothing, just as she had done for Petunia and Lily. Mr. Evan's, on the other hand, motioned for Petunia to come outside to the backyard with him.

The sun had just begun to set. He held some tea in one hand, that smelled slightly like brandy. She did not judge him for it. If she wasn't with her parents, she probably would have found Tobias' flask to do the same.

"Petunia, talk to me. Lily won't say anything and I'm not naïve enough to think this has nothing to do with her," he said and drank deeply.

"Dad, she's ok and is safe, I promise. I would never let you out of the loop if something could hurt her," Petunia said. A part of her furious that he thought it was about Lily.

But of course, it was, everything in her life was about her sister. Her entire life hinged on Lily living hers without a problem. Which was perfectly fine, she had done it as a child and accepted that she was going to do it as she entered adulthood.

"I think you are lying to me and I hope for your sake that it's to keep your sister safe," her father warned.

Petunia nodded and walked back inside. There was still enough to make her blood boil. She was supposed to leave in a week and it made her sick that all they thought about was Lily's safety. Lily had Severus. That was someone who would make sure that nothing happened to her sister. Nothing bad anyway because only love that strong would force a man to be aware enough to do no harm.

Lily would never be able to love him like that though. They all knew that. Sometimes Petunia wondered if Lily had any self-awareness. Not that it mattered much, they all had a role to play and all that mattered was that Petunia played hers to protect everyone for the evil of theirs.

Chapter Text

They saw very little of Eileen over the next week. Petunia, Severus and Lily spent their days at Spinner's End making sure that Eileen's potion schedule was kept. The task really wasn't an easy one, more than once they had to sneak out of town in order to buy ingredients that they couldn't get at the Adams store after Petunia's shift.

Petunia had very little time for Darren which made him quite moody to be around. When she was around him, the last thing on her mind was being physical. In order to keep him happy she went on runs with him and tried to schedule her free moments around his. It wasn't easy to do and she knew that they would have less time once the school year started.

Eileen, on the other hand, would come back home exhausted, too exhausted to even do the laundry that inevitably piled-up or to cook or clean. She came home to sleep for six hours exactly every three days.

They had made no progress on the potion that they were supposed to deconstruct and that hurt Eileen's ego. It hurt all their ego's. Every night Odgen would come with a bottle of his family's finest and they would drink it deeply in hopes that their drunk selves could think of solutions that their sober selves would not even consider.

They tried everything and Eileen was tired of trying and not succeeding. The drug was running rampant and the DMLE were breathing down their necks. The bezoar supply was running low as well and Eileen feared what the lack of a breakthrough would mean to them. That night Eileen walked home exhausted to the smell of potatoes frying and fish. Petunia was cooking, while Severus and Lily finished up the last bits of brewing for that lunar cycle. All that was left was to pour out the soap and cut it.

Guilt ravaged through Eileen, it had been a while since she had felt this inadequate and out of control. It was not fair for her to rely so heavily on the children, but what choice did she have? The Ministry and St Mungo's had decided they would be giving them absolute access to anything they needed. Which meant some days instead of brewing and experimenting, Eileen sat in the darkest corners of the Ministry reading up on subjects that were too dark in their applications to ever see the light of day.

Eileen was used to animal testing, it was part of the procedure all of them were taught to follow but it kind of gratified her when she was not the only one who looked like death when the potion had not worked the way they predicted. She was terrified about what would happen if they were unable to find any sort of solution in the next couple of weeks.

They had more Muggles coming into the hospital. Many of which were the same age as Severus or Petunia. The wore the same types of clothes she saw Petunia sneak out in and at times they couldn't save them all. As much as all lives had value and St Mungo's they were forced to prioritize their own before others. Muggles were firmly considered in other territories.

Petunia fished out the dirty laundry from Eileen's bag. "I'm going to start laundry when Mr. Snape comes back, I promised Darren I'd stay by him tonight."

Eileen slumped onto the kitchen table after she showered. Lily served her a bowl of warmed up split pea soup and toasted bread. The sounds were driving her crazy and she could feel the beginning of a headache. She had a week before everyone was meant to go back to school. She wanted to be there for that for the moments that she could only dream of trying to touch. She could see it in all of them, the toll this was taking.

Even Slughorn, the most optimistic among them looked tired at the end of the workday, the workday seemed to be a mixture of work and alcohol. She had nothing more in her to be taking care of her family or the people who relied on her. Petunia had managed to get Tobias his job back through Clara, now Mrs. Ross, while the situation was not ideal, it never felt like a good idea for Tobias to have idle hands.

Eileen ate mechanically, as she made more notes in her book on the potion as she ate. She barely tasted the food and did not look up as Tobias walked in through the kitchen.

"Long week?" he asked with a smile, as he washed his hands.

"We are getting nowhere near any sort of solution. There are only so many times that the DMLE can write it off as an inevitable result of a party drug overdose."

Petunia walked in to hear the last bit. Eileen had been secretive about the work she was doing. Neither Lily nor Severus knew what exactly was going on either. It was unusual practice though to force someone who was not a Potion Master to work for St Mungos. The children trusted that because the adults were keeping secrets that they would tell them sooner or later. Petunia was not too sure about that, it would require all four parents to be one the same page, which very rarely happened. So it was weird that all of them had decided that it was best for the children to be kept in the dark about the topic on hand.

Petunia wanted to ask but bit her tongue. She knew that there would be no answers tonight about anything. Not while work was overwhelming Eileen. Besides, it was only a week before she had to leave and she was helping Darren move the next day into a flat one of his well-off relatives had gotten for him. That and it had been a while since she had visited Clara who had just come back from her honeymoon in Paris. She needed to focus on her life outside of all of this.

Petunia stopped at Ross' first. The house was just as big and the living room made her feel like a young girl. Well, Petunia was very young if she had to compare herself to Clara. Clara looked composed and happy. She practically snuggled right into Petunia and pulled a ribbon out to tie into her hair.

"How come you always smell so lovely, " Clara said dreamily.

The holiday in Paris had done her good if the details Ross had told Darren were to be believed. Petunia was sure that very soon there would be a very demanding Ross child running around.

"It's the soap Mrs. Snape makes out of black soap, " Petunia said. "So how was it?"

"Like a dream, " Clara sighed. " I didn't know it felt that good to just stay in bed all day and do nothing."

"Nothing at all and here I was under the impression that you worshiped his cock." Petunia said, wiggling her eyebrows.

Clara burst out giggling and adjusted herself until she sat on Petunia's lap and was facing her.

"Sex was great, the drugs even better. Maybe I should get some for us to use over a weekend when you don't have to play, " Clara said.

With Clara, it was always something that allowed her to chase the next high. Recently before the wedding, that high had been Petunia. Ross and Darren liked to watch, some days it felt uncomfortable, but then Clara would whisper the sweetest nothings while rubbing her fingers against Petunia's clit.

It was all really confusing. There were days where the entire experience made Petunia feel like she could never be clean again. It was rather that then they take away Tobias' job. Besides, it wasn't all too bad. In the moments where it was just her and Clara, she could pretend that the only thing she was chasing was that feel-good high.

"I got you something by the way, " Clara said. Her voice had started to change from the cigarettes she was smoking. "It's a cute set, see-through and the colour of lavender from the fields where you and Darren run."

Clara described it as something beautiful and good. Petunia could not have felt less sure. It felt wrong to be putting herself on display like that, but no one in her family needed her at the moment. She could afford to hunker down with everyone for a night as long as she made it back for all her shifts at the store and church.

"Maybe we could do it tomorrow after we set up Darren's new place. We have enough time to break the bed, go somewhere fun and break in the new bed again, " Ross suggested as he took off his blazer.

Sometimes Petunia wondered what he had told Clara in order to get her to agree to him and all of his unreasonable demands when it came to life.

"We should move some of your stuff too into Darren's flat. You'll be staying with him on weekends." Ross did not give her a choice about that, she had found out recently that it was his family who funded the scholarship she would be under at the school. She had not told anyone any of this. She felt like they did not need to know. If they did they would have advised her against the decision she was making when it came to trying to please those around her.

It was just slightly out of character to the Petunia they had known last year. The one who clung close to Tobias and would rather spend her time around the smallfolk of Spinner's End than mingle with the rich. That summer changed that. The change in the air could not be deemed to be a good change but it was changing none the less.

That night Petunia called her parents to tell them she would be staying with the Ross' and them help Darren move in the next day. Although her mother did n't approve she refused to say otherwise. Nothing bad would happen to Petunia because in Mrs. Evans' eyes the Ross' was an example of fine folk. Darren had dug out the brandy and poured a couple of fingers worth into four glasses.

Petunia laid her head against Darren's shoulders as the radio spilled out old music. They were sitting on the floor smoking something that Ross had rolled up.

"Has anyone told you how pale your eyes are?" Darren asked pulling Petunia's face closer to his. "It's like if the lake were clean. And it's pale like powder blue tights those ballet girls wear."

"Yeah, you've said it before, " Ross said. He was sitting in an armchair. Tie loose and clothes still containing residue from the factory dust.

Petunia rolled her eyes.

Petunia fell asleep soon after and took a shower the next morning, grinning at the never-ending sense of possibility that being young could bring around.

Chapter Text

Petunia sat on the table at Spinner's End wanting the news to be a lie. It had to be a glorious lie. She knew Eileen had been hospitalized at St Mungo's die to an exhaustion collapse but that was normal. When Eileen had a new project, she worked herself to the bone. So why did Severus say it was unlikely that she would wake up, Petunia had left so much behind in order to make sure that things would go back to the way they were.

She broke up with Darren when the first letter came from her mother. All it said was Darren had been seeing someone else. Another girl at the ballet school. Someone who could keep up with his dancing and demands of his lifestyle, she was neither pretty nor glamourous enough for him when they moved out of Cokesworth. She knew that already; he had never really spoken to her using the kind of 'forever' language most people did to talk about their significant others.

Petunia cried the day she broke up with him. The real kind of tears, that streamed down silently and seemed to attack her when she went to the bathroom between classes. It took hours, then days which melded into weeks to get her over him.

Petunia played aggressively during those weeks and as predicted she made captain. Some days it took everything out of her. The way these people played took every single brain cell and then made her rely on muscle memory to pull through.

She missed her home, how the river was never blue and the fields that fed into the mill. She missed her bike and running after school to Spinner's End. Sometimes she missed the advice or how little effort it took for an owl to swoop into their kitchen and nab a piece of bacon.

She would have been a spiral of torture had it not been for her roommate. Jean Abdul wore her hair in braids and focused on school with a vicious kind of fury. They bonded over the fact that both of them missed bitter, black, freshly brewed coffee and their science stream subjects. She was the one who initiated the midnight escapes from the dorm into the middle of the city.

It was in no way safe nor did it make sense, but neither of them belonged in the lines that had been painted. Sometimes they would stop at the steps of a mosque and Jean would say a few words in Arabic. Then they would walk to little corner shops run by people that Jean knew. They would drink bitter coffee, listen to music and smoke vapour that tasted like mint and chocolate.

So it would not have been a terrible idea had Jean not thought of it during one of their walks. It was a weekend off and as long as they signed back in on Sunday morning and did no harm, the teachers had no control over what they did. It was also one of the few weekends where there was no netball as exams for the end of the year would start soon.

They should have been studying at the library like good students. They were good students, but the maths made her go crazy, and Petunia refused to look at another physics practical. So they found themselves in the back of a spice store eating falafel and pita topped with hummus. It was not the kind of food Petunia would normally eat, but in the last year, things had changed.

She had changed almost to reinvent herself beyond recognition and she would have been happier if she had not seen her ex. Darren was not supposed to be on this side of town. He had dance things to do with people who were just as willowy as he was. Jean looked at the way Petunia turned white, found the ex.

"Why don't you go say hello?" Jean asked.

Jean was big on reconciliation and other forms of peaceful living most of the time.

"I know Darren, he will just taunt me with the new girl. He did the same to me with girls he dated back home," Petunia said.

"So you do have a type. A piece of work," Jean said.

"Maybe, between that and the Ross', there really wasn't very much to do at Cokesworth. All of them were good kissers though."

"So you just stumbled into all of this, into the disaster that is people?"

"I don't date disasters," Petunia said. Her voice was filled with offence.

Maybe she didn't but Darren definitely qualified as a disaster and Darren definitely was walking this way. Jean was fearless in the way she refused to back down. So sometimes she expected Petunia to be a little more fearless than she was ready to be.

Darren did little else other than nod his acknowledgement at her. Petunia did the same and with that, the interaction was over. Jean looked disappointed.

"I wish sometimes you were a little bit wilder," Jean said.

"If I were wilder, I would have been more rebellious, and we would have never met."

"True. The normal with is what keeps us together to a certain extent, " Jean mused.

"You really can't stand those girls can you?"

"They never had to work to get to this position and they probably will never have to, to carve a place for themselves in this world, " Jean said spreading their hands out.

Petunia knew that this was true, unfairly so, but she did wonder whether they deserved it or not. Ross had been terrible these last few months. Their town had gotten worse and they still had the gall to sit in their pews on Sunday as it everything was all normal. It made Petunia sick to look at them. Then when they looked back, it made her feel worse to think of how she had fallen for any of them. She fell for them deeply, all of them.

She thought of Darren as they walked back to their dorms. She missed him a lot, almost too much, but it took a turn for the worst when the letter came. It was on her desk as if it had always been there. The Hogwarts crest was on the front of the envelope and the ink was a deep shade of purple. Only Severus wrote letters with purple ink.

Dear Petunia

It wasn't supposed to be like this. I think I messed up. Proper messed up. Like the time the branch nearly hit your head, not like when I accidentally let the Christmas biscuits bake for a moment too soon.

I wish I hadn't I really do but Lily isn't listening to me anymore. It's like she doesn't want anything to do with me. She thinks I'm bad and evil. Like Ross evil. I may have called her a mudblood, but she thinks I'm evil. Please make her forgive me, I asked her. I begged her but she isn't even looking at me.

Severus

Petunia's blood boiled. Severus had done the one thing he promised her that he would never do. She had never made him formally swear on an oath but he had promised Petunia that he would never make Lily feel anything else other than welcome. It was his job to protect her and Petunia was so mad that he had failed.

She replied to him with the following

We sort this out after OWLs until then all my love.

Not that Petunia had any love to give anyone at the moment, she was still caught up in her life and how it was nothing positive at the moment. She had exams to work on too and unlike those in the wizarding world, there were still many more that she had to write. She took Jean's approach of ignoring everything but the school for the next few weeks. She studied, tried out for the following year's netball team and wrote her exams.

For once it felt like she was allowed to be a little less than normal for herself and the year away had allowed her to feel emotions. Not all good, but very little in life was good all the time.

It was with that, that Petunia left Jean for the summer and waited at the Leaky Cauldron for Eileen to end her shift. They would take the train home together.

Eileen looked sicker than she had last year and gave Petunia a small smile. The train ride home was silent and there was a tenseness in her shoulders that was not present before.

Petunia thought it could not get worse, but it did quickly. Their dad had taken up drinking again. Mr. Evans was not an irresponsible adult but he did have moments where he relapsed. He made their lives miserable and Lily was unhappy, unhappier than she normally would be.

Petunia took shifts at the store, just to get away from it all. That and letters from Jean seemed to be the only things that brought her sanity together. It was only a matter of time before things gave in and this time what gave in was Mr. Evans. More than once he came home drunk and sometimes he smelled of something sweeter. Something that reminded Petunia of strong breakfast tea.

They did not question it, men needed to do things like that. Their mother had said so and while Severus and Lily were not talking, Lily was humble enough to realize that her mom needed Severus. Severus was the only person who could take Roses' mind off of things like a cheating husband.

Infidelity happened often and Petunia grew angry when she thought of it. The anger was nothing when she compared it to the anger that Lily felt. The air around them was cold and angry, the magic crackled and spat in a barely controlled form. Lily, Petunia and Severus ate dinner together with Mrs. Evans every night in hopes to bring back a sense of normalcy.

It was like nothing they did could fix what was wrong. So Petunia made the stupid move.

Her dad had come home drunk and he was not the man she remembered. Because the man she knew would have put duty and honour above this. So she told him, the same things she told Tobias and every other man in her life until she got too weak to try. She took him to the backyard and told him, he wasn't welcome around anymore. He could take the car and Petunia would make money work for her. The house had been part of the dowry Mrs. Evans had come into the marriage with.

Mr. Evans had slapped her across the face that day with anger and then he recoiled when he was slammed against the wall. Lily's green eyes blazing with fury her sister could not act upon. The Evans girls had, had enough of being dragged around by the men in their lives.

Chapter Text

It was early in the morning. The sun had not started rising and Severus sat in Petunia's room with three cups of tea and some pound cake. They usually met in Petunia's room, it was a neutral spot and the whole world was silent. Petunia's bed was made and the pillows were pulled to the floor. Petunia was going to turn eighteen in a couple of weeks. Legally she would be adult enough in the eyes of both the muggle and wizard world.

But right now she felt just as small as Lily. Severus lit a candle in her room. It smelt of cloves, cinnamon and brown sugar. There was no reason for lighting the candle apart from setting the scene. They all had to be at work early in the morning, so it made sense to call the meeting now.

Petunia took her cup of tea and slowly sipped waiting for either Lily or Severus to begin talking. They had each told her their version of what had gone on that night. And apart from the use of the word "mudblood", there was a lot of anger and hurt that peppered the air. Lily started at usual sitting on the floor and braiding her hair for work.

"He thinks he can get away with it, just because of his friends over there, " Lily said.

"So you are telling me that Sev, called you that word out of nowhere?" Petunia asked with her eyes raised.

"The Marauders teased-"

"The word you're looking for is 'bullied'. They bullied me and you tried to stop it not thinking for a moment that you could have made my life worse."

"Woe is fucking me. You never stand up for yourself. You let them call you dark and evil as if that is all you are good for, " Lily hissed. Her throat was red.

Severus took a careful bite of pound cake. The next few words he would say would determine who Petunia thought was right because Petunia had no problem cutting people out of her life. The entire town knew when Darren cheated on her. The gossiping tongues gossiped but the one thing that they all said that was true was that Petunia would never take him back.

She hadn't taken Darren back at all, not when he cornered her after work or came on a run with her or when he threw stones at her window. She ignored him and his existence as easily as Eileen brewed a simple potion. Severus and Lily had watched as Petunia crumbled the man and made him feel small. It was honestly fascinating that he still looked at her with moon and stars in his eyes as if what he did to her was eliminated because he loved her.

"In my common room, they don't understand what this muggle heritage means. When they look at me they see my mother's failure and when they see you defend me, they see a child who never learnt to understand the tough lessons in life." Severus said. His back was on the edge of the bed and Petunia had to hold her hands close in order to not drag a brush through his hair.

"That doesn't make it right. You are better than their blood superior agenda. At least that is what I believed of you." Petunia said.

"This isn't a let's kiss and makeup situation. You humiliated me when I tried to defend you, " Lily said, her anger pulling all the warmth from the rising sun.

"Lils, your magic is making things cold, " Petunia said. The instability of Lily's magic had made her feel uncomfortable over the last couple of months. There was this anger that wouldn't let it go of her.

"I don't think you know how privileged you are Lily. You are so freaking beautiful and smart. Magic has blessed you from your red hair to your green eyes. What more could life give you?" Severus asked.

Petunia was curious about the answer. Life had given all of them the worst hand, so what did Lily have to want. They needed her to answer because they had to grow past that.

"I wish you guys would stop making that assumption. It is absolutely sickening. I don't think I'm blessed. Maybe Slughorn does, but that's it. I don't care what everyone else thinks that. It's hurtful when you do though, you know how awkward I am about that. I trust you two and even though we don't agree on everything. I need you to trust me too with all of this."

They had all finished their tea and Petunia took a comb and ran it through Severus' hair. She really loved how smooth it was and how easily it slid through her fingers. She pulled it together in through a braid. It looked neat and more put together than the usual bun he threw it in.

Petunia felt exhausted at this conversation and scooted closer to Severus to fall asleep on his shoulder. His shoulders were bony and nowhere near as rounded as Darren's.

"I wish none of this ever started. I thought that this year would be ok. But everything just seems to have fallen apart. I missed you too though, " Petunia said. " I don't think that I tell you how much you all make my summer better."

Lily laughed a bitter laugh. Petunia agreed that they had much to be skeptical about. Their lives had never been easy to live or to follow and that sucked about the way they had to live their lives. It was almost as if they would never be good enough for anyone.

Sometimes Petunia was glad that Lily had been the one to be blessed with magic, Petunia had no idea what to do with the fury she felt especially towards her father at the moment. She put her arm around Severus and pulled him close, tightly hugging him and promising to not let go for the moment. It was so easy to lose herself in the smell of Adam's shop that seemed to follow him wherever he went. She would have never loved Severus more than a brother and he knew that. Lily knew that as well. Although she was mad at him right now Petunia could not fault Lily for that. Severus had hurt her in more ways than he had the right to. But men always hurt women whether their intentions were conscience or not. Severus was no different.

"You know he is going to come back into your life, Petunia," Severus said.

Lily had scooted over, so Petunia was in the middle, the flashes of magic seemed to drain Lily faster than normal.

"Not if I can help it. I need your help to pack his stuff. He'll be fetching it this evening while my mother is with yours," Petunia said.

Her voice was as hard as rocks and she did not waver for a second about what she felt. It did not matter that her father had given her life. He was a threat to her, he always had been and now that Petunia had finally decided she wanted enough. He wanted more too. He kept pushing the Dursley son onto her and made mean comments about Darren while she was still dating him.

Mr. Evans was a vile man at times. He was the person who pushed his wife into the corner until she could no longer bear the evils he had put her through. Baby boy after baby boy they buried in the back yard.

The change although necessary had not been easy for Lily. She was her father's favourite. When Petunia had to literally beg for a new school bag, Lily had gotten the top of the line student trunk without even asking. It was those differences as tiny as they may seem, are what pushed Petunia to the edge.

She could have lived with it because she tried very hard to be normal, invisible and easy to please. Petunia knew if she was those things that her father would be angry less and maybe just this once he would say 'yes' to being around them casually.

Petunia jostled herself out and changed into overalls. She took a morning shift at the small mechanic shop that needed odds and ends fixed. She sat opposite Tobias and she worked in silence, only pausing in the monotony of work to scarf down a sandwich and to drink bitter coffee she had made in a thermos the night before,

She had graduated from working full time at the spice emporium and Ross had said he needed another pair of hands at the shop. Petunia preferred the work here, she did not have to deal with people and the pay per hour was better. The only downside was that her father supervised that particular side of the factory.

He deliberately walked past her station more often trying to criticize her work. It was as if she hadn't spent hours learning about the trade through him. Petunia was her father's daughter and therefore when she put her foot down she kept it there. She had known her father was a petty man, but his pettiness had been brought forward when Ross and Darren came to the shop, not an hour after lunch demanding to see her.

"You have to let your dad back into the house," Darren said not wasting a minute.

He knew Petunia well, had they given her a moment to collect her thoughts she would attack.

"Hello, Darren. It's nice to meet you too and I don't think so. Dad will find a way to live, besides, maybe he should have thought a little," Petunia said, wiping the grease off her hands.

The action was very absent-minded but it drew Petunia's attention to how her hands differed from that of Ross or Darren's. Hers was the kind of hands that knew hard labour and regret. They were the hands that washed clothes in the middle of winter or spent hours in a welding class. All of these things are what made Petunia uniquely her. She was not destined for an easy life, as much as she dreamed so.

"You can't blame him," Ross said. "He wasn't being obeyed or satisfied. If you had done your job, my best foreman would not be like this."

Petunia tried to not look shocked. She had expected better from them. It disgusted her that she had slept with them and almost had considered marrying Darren had he chosen to propose to her.

"I said 'no' between the three of us we earn more than enough to keep the lights on and the kitchen full. He would only get in the way. I have to get back to work unless there is something else you want to talk to me about," Petunia said.

"This is your issue. You think you are right. What kind of daughter does this to her father. I'm so glad Clara is having a boy. Girls are too much to handle you can never please them," Ross said with a huff.

The anger that coursed through Petunia at the moment was not due to his anti-feminist tone or argument. He could make those arguments all he wanted, because that was all he knew and he was the one who signed her paycheck, therefore she had some sense not to insult him. However, she was sick of the men in her life not having a backbone to even say these things to her face.

"I ask that you keep yourself out of my family Mr. Ross. Mr. Evans is not coming back, it is a decision I have made and one I do not make lightly," Petunia said and walked right back into her station, knowing fully well that the conversation had been eavesdropped upon.

Nothing ever did stay silent in the area.

Chapter Text

Petunia walked home with Tobias after her shift. Spinner’s End was just like she remembered it, the carefully kept garden beds and overgrown grass. With all the children gone, potion production had been really slow over the last couple of months. Eileen was at home, as her boots were taken off at the door, but there was no tell-tale smell of tea or coffee.

Lily was still at her job at the grocer's while Severus had taken over most of Petunia’s shifts by the Adams corner shop. Petunia sat on the kitchen table for a while to catch her breath. She had not told Tobias what had happened at the house over the last couple of days.

She was probably most scared of his disapproval, to a certain extent she agreed with what everyone else was saying. What right did she have as a daughter to talk to her dad like that? This was the same man who had looked her in the eye and never treated her as stupid even though he could have.

It was not easy to reconcile that person to the kind of man he had been in the last few years. He had been really unbearable and it made sense. Lily reminded him of the summer and she was really their rainbow baby between the stormy clouds. At the end of the day, it didn’t excuse what he did. He cheated and Petunia knew the good thing was for them to ignore it. She was done though with her mother getting the short end of the stick and if push came to it, the split would be good for her mother. It would force her to finally look at her children and not mourn the ones that did not exist.

“Child, you are thinking unfair thoughts,” Eileen said.

Eileen worked weird hours at St Mungo's. The hours purely depended on what they were working on.

“If it’s ok with your mom I’d like you to come into work with me after you’ve showered,” Eileen said, looking critically at the overalls that Petunia had taken to wearing.

The request was unusual. Eileen had not taken Severus into the potion rooms. It might have had to do with him not getting along with Master Potter’s nephew. Other than that, Eileen held a very clear separation of work and home.

“Work, as in at the labs?” Petunia asked.

“Yes, the labs, where else?” Eileen asked tiredly. “Don’t ask stupid questions, Odgen hates stupid questions.”

Tobias came into the small kitchen freshly showered. “I thought we both agreed, that you didn’t need to bring her into this.”

Tobias made his disapproval clear. They all knew why there was no place for Petunia in that world and telling her that she had one was just giving her false hope.

“You know she is talented enough to stand with the rest of them. Potions can be learned and that muggles have no respect for women,” Eileen retorted sharply.

“And your kind hates her kind. May I remind you of your family,” Tobias said.

Eileen snorted and pulled out a cake from the oven. Eileen usually baked when she was stressed.

“Take this to your mom, and come back here in an hour,” Eileen shooed her off.

Petunia nodded and escaped before Eileen and Tobias battled it out. She grabbed her work bag and took the short walk home. Her dad’s car was outside and Lily had not walked in, she was wearing her vest from the grocery and the air around her was cold. Petunia pulled her sister with her and walked through the front door.

“We deserve to be here, Lils,” Petunia whispered to her.

Although Petunia pretended to be brave for the moment. Just because that was what was needed for the moment. She needed to be brave and at this point she, as much as she wanted to protect her mother, still could not dictate the life she wanted her mother to live. She wanted her to definitely liver her life with someone who cheated on her.

Even if Petunia loved her father, he was also the same person who pocketed every paycheque she had made over the last three years. He did not deserve them, because he always wanted to be the man but he never admitted that he needed help with anything. He was the one who encouraged her relationship with Darren, even when Darren hadn’t been the best to her.

He was the one who wanted to stifle her ambition because of all of Lily’s weirdness from the time she was a baby. Petunia was an easy child. The one who would play life by the books and as much as Petunia would like to think of herself as the rebel, she did not enjoy rebelling.

“Ma, I’m not going to be home tonight. I’m spending the night with Mrs. Snape.” Petunia yelled as if she didn’t just expel her dad from the household. She put the tea cake down on the kitchen table and did not acknowledge her father.

Lily looked betrayed at the thought but followed Petunia up to her bedroom.

“So you’re just going to leave me here?” she asked.

Petunia rolled her eyes.

“Lily, I’m here, all day, every day. I don’t get to disappear in Scotland and not live this. I’m going with Eileen because she wouldn’t ask, had she not needed me there. I’m asking you to grow up and take responsibility for one night,” Petunia said.

Lily looked like she had been slapped across the face, but nodded. She would take hours to like Petunia again and that was fine with both girls. They didn’t have to be friends all the time.

“It’s not fair, Severus was asked by Slughorn to spend the night with him,’ Lily pouted.

“I don’t have the power to change that and we both know that he loves you,” Petunia said as she changed out of her overalls and threw it in the laundry basket.

Lily followed Petunia to the bathroom. Although the conversation was over, she was sure that Lily would stick to her until she had to leave. It was what Petunia do, had the situation been the other way around. She was not going to feel bad for leaving Lily.

Petunia stood in front of her wardrobe to try and find the least muggle looking clothes that she owned. If it was potions that she was going to be working on, then it meant that it was just better if she dressed practically more than anything else. The house had not had loud noises go on for a while and as Petunia changed, she gave Lily the keys to her bike.

“Don’t take anywhere too far and fill up on petrol if you empty the tank. I’m going to try and get dad to leave before I go,” Petunia said, packing an overnight bag to keep at the Snape’s.

Petunia looked at herself in the mirror. In the end, Lily had picked out a blouse that had full sleeves and a simple skirt that wouldn’t get in the way of brewing and did not clash with her boots. The first rule in chemistry was always to keep your feet covered. Petunia checked her bag once again, to ensure that she packed her goggles, lab coat and dragonhide gloves.

Lily stuck close to her as Petunia went into the kitchen.

“You still smell like breakfast tea, dad. I don’t know who you are trying to fool,” Petunia said. She made sure that it hurt as she said the words. Mr. Evans in her eyes deserved to hurt.

It was not an hour later that she waited outside the Snape home for Eileen. Mrs. Snape under Tobias’ disapproving stare apparated with her directly into the main atrium of St Mungo’s. Petunia immediately felt tell-tale nausea that she associated with a magical building that had anti-muggle wards.

“Eileen Snape, Master Potioneer with Petunia Evans,” Eileen said to the witch at the front desk. The medi-witch then asked Petunia to sign the register and indemnity forms.

Eileen walked quickly and Petunia jogged to keep up. They went deeper down the building and Petunia definitely didn’t remember where she was going. She should have been afraid but she really didn’t know how to feel. She was still worried about her mother and Lily. They were too alike in the worst ways for both of them to diffuse Mr Evans calmly. Petunia tried not to think how cold it felt around Lily at the moment. She had to trust the fact that they would be fine for a while. It was only a little while.

Eileen pushed the door and immediately Petunia felt the warmth and the overwhelming number of fumes from the number of potions that were going on.

“Why do all the potions seem to have the same base but react so differently?” Petunia asked. She had not forgotten she was there as a guest, but Eileen had always encouraged questions while brewing.

“Everyone in this room is under an oath,” Eileen said. Petunia knew what that meant, she nodded, it meant that unless she swore the oath too, they wouldn’t be allowed to tell her much.

Apart from what she assumed were Eileen’s co-workers. There were three other men around her age and Severus.

“This is not usual protocol, but we are at the point where we need to bring fresh minds into this equation,” Slughorn said. Petunia recognized him from the walrus-like beard. “You all signed a binding register in front and while you are free to leave now, this will be the only time you are allowed to leave.” He looked at Petunia as he said this.

Petunia did not move a muscle and she saw Eileen throw a begging look to Severus who clenched his jaw to stay put. If she hadn’t known the pair well, she would have missed the exchange. Petunia looked at the three other men who were brought in. They did not look like they would back down, so she did not want to either.

“No takers then, we can begin. I’m Charles Potter,” the man said and reached for a phial from what Petunia assumed to be his station. “You will be working to reverse this poison.”

Petunia looked at the clear potion in his hand. This is what Eileen had been working on the past year? Petunia did not think of a moment when Eileen wasn’t able to whip up something for them to use to when they weren’t feeling well or had eaten berries without looking carefully.

“All we know is that it uses blood to create and is tied to a signature of the maker before all markers disappear as it is taken off the heat,” Odgen said.

Petunia frowned. No potion ever didn’t leave a trace of a person. It was like whenever they made a simple dry throat syrup. Although the colour and final product worked and looked the same, she could always tell who had made the batch. A mark of brewing was delivering a consistent product at all times by one maker. It was something Eileen had taught all of them as the first began to learn how to brew. It was part of the reason why people had favourite brewers.

There were five stations at the back and Petunia took her place with the other people in her age group. Severus took the station furthest from her, and she was a little bit hurt by that action. It didn’t matter though. They had instructions and Petunia took a drop of the potion onto her finger before consuming it. It tasted like lavender and murtlap essence. Two things that Petunia loved to enjoy on most days but particularly when she needed to be picked up. It tasted like what she thought love was supposed to be like. The potion felt like a high, the highest high that ever begged to exist and as Petunia crashed back down, she felt empty.

“Be careful with it, more than a drop has been known to kill muggles without a trace, the way the killing curse does,” Eileen called out.

Petunia went pale. She knew that out there, there were people who hated everything she stood for, but hearing they had created something to kill her did not make her feel confident at all.

Chapter Text

There was a sense of trying to achieve the impossible that had Petunia feel like she was drowning. Charles Potter was one of the few Potter's left. His brother Fleamont had invented "Sleakeazy" a famous potion that Lily tended to use before dates. While Fenwick had a million little superstitions that he kept to every day, his life seemed dictated by old wife's tales, even though he was the youngest potion master amongst them.

Odgen was her favourite by far. He reminded her of her metal shop teacher when she still took the class at the local high school. He was also the only one who did not question why Eileen had brought a muggle into the project. They hadn't even finished the first night shift. She popped a painkiller and tried to not think about the fumes that were triggering her headache.

Petunia was not usually susceptible to lapses of judgement, but she knew this was one. Tobias had not liked what was going on and he had never really led her wrong before. Petunia took another sniff of the potion trying to break down both the ingredients and the order at which everything went into it.

The potion was clear and reminded her of a lot of sugar syrup that Adam's made when they insisted, she ate dessert with them. So, to her, that was the most obvious direction, sugar syrup with a hefty pinch of salt to balance everything else out.

She took out a cigarette lighter from her bag and turned on the burner. When in doubt the most obvious place to start was what made the most sense. She rummaged around for sugar and put water to boil. Then added a couple of sprigs of lavender followed by murlap essence. The smell felt correct to her nose. Everything in this potion did not indicate a magical source to her. There was no signature which begged the question of how it was specifically being handed out to muggles. To people like her who genuinely had no idea that there was a whole other world out there.

It had been weeks of working the equivalent of two jobs. When she wasn't working Petunia took every opportunity to fall asleep. For once her paycheck was coming directly to her. She gave most of her galleons earned from her hours at the potion brewing to Lily's Gringotts account. While the factory paycheque went straight to her mother's hand.

Petunia took every excuse to be outside the house. She was exhausted and her eyes bloodshot. It had felt ages since she had met up with anyone other than Jean on the weekend during a random lunch break. Her marks had come out a few weekends earlier and she had met her scholarship requirements for the next year, on condition that she made the netball team again for the next season. Petunia hadn't done anything other than morning runs for a long time.

It had been the longest week of her life. Longer than the time she had yo-yoed on her feelings surrounding breaking up with Darren or dealing with the aftermath of it. It felt like she wasn't in control of anything. Her father had been at home every time she came home, just to eat breakfast or to cook for the next meal. It had been overwhelming for the lack of a better word.

Lily had warned her about this feeling, especially as Petunia felt overwhelmed all the time. It had gotten to a point where she took hour bathroom breaks to ride out the wave of emotions that seemed to ride up and then crash in the most awful ways.

Clara also had her baby that week. It was an announcement in the paper, along with the sweetest picture of Petunia assumed was the new boy. The surge of regret did not seem to end. She knew that she could half live in a world that didn't want her. She would have to say goodbye to this sooner rather than later.

She had to become serious about her future. Petunia had to decide whether she wanted to go to college or take on a practical course. It was also time to start seriously looking for someone. She did not know how long that would take, but she did want to become a mother and it wouldn't hurt to be the entirety of someone's universe like that. She also wished she thought about more relevant things like the potion she was supposed to be making notes on.

The vail reminded her of something that would get passed around at a party or in a club. Something she and Clara would have sipped on a year ago when they went out.

"Has anyone thought that maybe pouring it into the vails activated it. Like one of those booby-traps in ruins," Petunia said.

It was the only solution she could think of, but that kind of magic was old. So old that it belonged to times when sorcerers would sit next to kings and queens and advise them.

"The marking on the bottle is that of the three brothers, and all a drop does is give you a high if you are a muggle, but with a wizard, you get a couple of hours. Just long enough to find a bozoar," Odgen's apprentice said lifting up his bottle.

"So what if it actually activated in the presence of no magic. The seal senses no magical residue at all and the glass used for the vails is coated with Cupid's Kiss. That's why I smell lavender and murtlap and I'm assuming Snape smells forests and the first rain."

Petunia brought the vail to her nose and ignored all the sanitary warnings she received about preserving. She tasted the cool glass of the vial and all she could taste was icy mint and honey. The distinctive taste of Cupid's Kiss.

"So we need to start coating the pouring vails with Cupid's Kiss," Slughorn said. He said it like an order and Eileen nodded.

"It's like caning, we need to boil all the vails to sterilize, then put the lids on and boil again, lay them aside and then reverse the ingredients that could react with Cupid's Kiss to turn it into poison with the same effects should a magic signature not be added," Petunia listed.

It was a multiple-step process that almost anyone could make if they could think through the steps logically and had enough time. They could pull it off, it was not something that would depend on lunar cycles. The process itself had to be simple enough that any home cook worth their salt could make, had they had the ingredients.

The potion dungeon had no windows which were customary for potion-making. The apprentices got ready to make Cupid's Kiss while they mentors began the arduous process of the list of herbs and ingrediants that died upon immediately fetching a magical signature.

"How did you manage to get that process going," Severus asked her. He was not used to being shown up in the potion arena. Petunia really only knew as much as he did.

"Tobias actually, when he was teaching me about engines and fixing things like that. He said it was a skill anyone could learn if they figured out how to respect the process," Petunia said.

Severus looked like he had been slapped. He did not get along with his dad most days, but to hear that he was actually someone who had a modicum of knowledge to pass over did not sit well with him.

Tobias was not an easy man to get to know. Petunia knew that first hand, they got along because he felt pity for her and she lapped every inch of that pity up because she could not bear her own parents without severely criticizing them for the decisions they had made in her life.

Petunia got to chopping ingredients and adding them in exact order, trying to measure everything to the milligram. The potion itself would take two days to brew, which indicated the poison would also take the same amount of time to create.

It had to boil for a few hours with cold water added in every six hours. Petunia looked at her watch and slumped down onto the corner of the potion dungeon. She still had her factory shift to get to and had to go on a run before all of that. She was just feeling really overwhelmed and uncomfortable.

She knew what they thought about her. She was a muggle and did not deserve to be there. She was a small grain of sand because there were so many of them. Petunia knew what they thought because she sometimes read the propaganda disguised as news. It was not her fault that wizards could not find it in themselves to look forward, to explore options outside themselves.

"Mrs Snape, I got to make it back home, I have a shift at the factory. So, do you mind apparating me home?" Petunia asked.

"It's the weekend Evans," said Fenwick without looking up.

Petunia sighed, she had completely forgotten. It was the weekend, which meant it was her eighteenth birthday. An occasion, she firmly asked everyone to gloss over at the beginning of the week. She did not want reminding that she was nowhere that she needed to be in life right now. That it symbolised a year since Eileen had been called in to work on the potion.

Petunia made sure her station was in stasis and she walked to the cafeteria to grab some food to eat in peace. She took off her brewing apron. During the weeks she had become less conscious about what people thought of her turning up in muggle clothes after realizing that a lot of the younger generation wore normal clothes. Clothes that, as a muggle, Petunia thought was normal. Petunia made some tea and paid for a toastie. The tea was strong and sickeningly sweet, which contrasted nicely with the warm saltiness of the toastie. She opened up a book of holiday work that she was meant to have started a while back and took a few seconds the refresh herself on the maths concepts wishing she was at Spinner's End where Tobias wouldn't mind explaining some of it to her. She scribbled a few more lines of equations trying to make sense of the trigonometry.

"I thought I recognized the hair," said a man as he sat down opposite her.

Petunia looked up. The face was familiar, slightly aged up and reminded her of regret and nights out. She definitely had made out with that face before, although she did not remember the name to it. His eyes were tinged red and he had this sort of ageless look that Petunia knew was common with most wizards after thirty.

They aged differently from everyone else.

"Sorry, I can't seem to remember the name," Petunia said putting her work aside. She knew that she would get nothing done over the next couple of minutes.

"Marvolo, we met about a year ago," he prompted.

"Yes, with Darren. Do you work here?" Petunia asked. She was being nice, there was no way in heaven she wanted to be with someone at this moment even if the interaction did mean some very casual agreement.

"I do," he laughed. "They required my expertise on the Dark Curses ward."

Petunia shivered. She had, had to brew a tonne of calming drought for that particular ward. The stories of the people there were a mixture of carelessness and downright brutality. So he was probably one of those, who carelessly threw harmful magic around. Potions were harmful enough, to just have all that destructive power with a wave of a wand didn't sit well with her.

Petunia let the silence sit and be heavy. It would never work out in her favour when she let a guy in her life. She was going to move on with her life after this antidote was wrapped up. It would be smart for her to get to a point where she could have a stable future for everyone in her life.

"I have to go. Potions don't make themselves," Petunia said. She kept her voice quiet and delicate. He frowned as if he didn't trust her change in tone at all. There was nothing for him to analyze, she wouldn't be around next week, as soon as they figured out to make the antidote.

He nodded and his jaw tightened. Petunia noticed, gave the tiniest smile and walked back to the cold potion dungeon. He would live.

Chapter Text

Lily’s present had come to the hospital. A necklace with a huge preserved petunia in the centre along with a half-dozen runes etched into the chain. Something remnant of what a mother would give to her daughter, a symbol of protection from the world. Petunia did not want to think how much it cost for her to have it made or the number of hours Lily had worked on it.

Petunia shoved the chain under her shirt and walked into the potion station, where Fenwick had prepared the first round of possible antidotes. If nothing happened to the rats, then Petunia would consume the poison and the antidote in a small enough dosage. Petunia’s least favourite potions came from Fenwick, they were usually very focussed on keeping herbs in their raw form while forcing the drinker of the potion to chew and taste everything.

It was always a miracle when someone managed to get through Fenwick's first draft without gagging. Petunia took the first rat and force-fed it the poison that she dubbed “Death wish” into the rat, then forced it to chew on the first draft antidote. It took a while for the rat to die, the only thing Fenwick’s potion had done was slow down the effect but if the noise the rat had made said anything, it was that it was in pain the entire time.

The night bled into the day like that. The creation of a potion and testing it on the rats, only to have the rats die on them in the most gruesome way possible. Until Odgen and Potter tried to warm herbs and spices in some of the finest firewhiskey out there. While Eileen, Slughorn and Fenwick brewed what they thought was the actual poison that had been distributed around.

Petunia worked with the rest of the trainee’s in order to keep prep the bottles. The murky brown liquid hit the Cupid’s Kiss prepared vails and immediately turned clear. That was a good sign. The magical signature as Charles held it with his bare hands rendered the potion to stay the same. Petunia touched it and the coloured stopper immediately turned black indicating there was poison inside.

She thumbed the engraved sign of the Hollows. She had taken the tiniest drop of the original Death Wish hours ago to remember the high. The rat had reacted to it the same way that it would to the original potion, so Petunia had hope that they were on the right track. Petunia took a small sip, not even trying to finish half the poison, the high hit her like a train wreck. It felt the same way, the highest high that made her feel like she was loved all around.

“I think this is right,” she said through the haze. She stumbled around to find a chair to steady herself. “Fuck, this is a million times better than sex with Darren.” She whispered to herself.

“Tuney, you’re mumbling about Darren,” Severus said.

Petunia hoped she was giving him what was a threatening glare.

“You try getting cheated on and think back fondly of the sex with the person,” Petunia said.

Jean had warned her about this. Drunk Petunia was competitive, high Petunia was just pretty mean to everyone around her. Sometimes when they managed to smoke in the room they shared, when the stress got too much. Petunia would get like this, mournful, then brutal and finally just craving chips along with the falafel that Jean sometimes brought with her from home.

“Wait he cheated on you,” Roman said. He seemed to stop brewing interested in the story.

“It’s no big deal, we were never going to last anyway. Besides he wasn’t normal enough, he was too memorable and needed to be loved constantly. He had his moments before he got exposed. I’m not staying with a cheater,” Petunia said earnestly.

It was as far as she got before Odgen put the shot glass in front of her. She sobered up instantly and coughed as the whiskey blended with a weird combination of spices burned down her throat. She felt like she did after a night she partied too hard.

“She was at the best part,” Slughorn said, while Eileen just laughed.

Petunia blushed, it wasn’t a gesture she normally made. The whole affair was embarrassing.

“Maybe we wait an hour before trying the getting you to do a full dosage,” Fenwick said.

He passed camphor onto her, along with water that had equal parts sugar and salt mixed in. The water sobered her right up and she gave Fenwick a weak smile. So far turning eighteen had not been her most glorious moment.

“Have you taken serious thought about what you are going to do after your schooling?” Odgen asked.

Petunia looked down at her boots. Studying further had been an appealing option, but she had a feeling that they would not be able to afford the fees as all, her parents would most likely need her to still work. At most, she may take a typing course or see who would hire her at a local mechanic shop. Potions, while interesting enough was no place for a muggle like her. It was not her place to think about something new and revolutionary while trying to find a place for herself where she clearly didn’t belong. It was like trying to fit a square in a circle hole, it may fit but it did not belong in the picture.

“I have a year and then I’ll take a typing course and maybe become a secretary somewhere,” Petunia said.

She could feel Eileen tutting. That way of life had zero ambition. Petunia knew she was selling herself short, but not enough of the world was as progressed as the wizarding world, with its equal gender rights and lack of racism. It was not the world she lived in.

Odgen nodded, but she knew what he was thinking. The thoughts were probably along the lines of ‘wasted talent’. She had heard all the arguments before. If she could make a living with sport she would do that, but she did not have the patience to be a teacher, maybe she would coach over the weekend.

“Also, it’s my last week here. I have sports trails at school next week,” Petunia said. There was no point for her to keep coming back, they had cracked a good bit of how the poison was made and at long last an antidote to it.

“If you are sure about not coming back to potions, the alcohol side of Odgen’s could always use a new apprentice,” Odgen said.

Charles dropped the ladle he was holding. Slughorn moved his massive self forward.

“What, you know he is right. It’s a pity she isn’t a witch because she is instinctive when it comes to all of this. Alcohol can be made muggle and I’m sure you can read runes,” Fenwick said.

Out of all the potion’s masters, Fenwick was the one closest to the apprentices' ages. He reminded Petunia of an older brother or the less creepy version of Ross.

“Of course I can read runes, do arithmetic and recite potion principles. No more or less than any of the other apprentices can do, I’m sure. There is no place for me here and I’m not going to delude myself when your kind made it perfectly clear that I don’t belong here,” Petunia said sharply. The apology made by the Hogwart’s headmaster was more than enough humiliation.

Magic was meant for those who could manipulate it and reap its benefits. They worked right through until midday. Petunia clocked out and wandered aimlessly in one of the parks that Jean lived near. Jean had a pretty small family, just her, her dad and an uncle.

Jean sat down next to Petunia and pulled out a neatly wrapped present.

“I hope you like it. Maybe you could wear it for the new season,” Jean said pulling food out of her bag.

Petunia undid the tiny bow. The tiny hamsa sewed into a piece of fabric seemed to stare right back at Petunia. Jean shifted uncomfortably.

“I know you don’t say much about your life, which is fair but we all need some luck.”

Petunia threw her arms around Jean. When later asked she would blame it on the lack of sleep and delusions of constantly being a test subject around potions. Jean and Petunia did not hug, until Jean, Petunia had not known what a best friend meant. It clearly meant to be something good.

Petunia spent the rest of the afternoon with Jean, before meeting Eileen at the Leaky Cauldron in order to take the Knight Bus home. She had finished the bit of homework that she brought with her and was sipping her butterbeer. Lily had a pile of books with her having decided to do her school shopping. Eileen had still not finished with her shift yet.

“Did you like it?” Lily asked, taking a sip of Petunia’s butterbeer.

“It’s beautiful, what made you decide I need runes though,” Petunia asked, frowning as Lily finished the rest of her butterbeer.

“You know why,” Lily said with a smile.

There was not much to smile about. Lily was worried about how this was going to turn out.

“You’re still determined to become an Auror then?”

“There is no other way, Tuney, I’m so done, beyond done. I’m done just being angry about it. I want to end it,” Lily said through gritted teeth.

Petunia breathed deeply and ordered firewhiskey, out of spite she did not order Odgen’s. The day had felt overwhelming and she knew that she would have to deal with her parents when she went home. They had invited people over for a birthday dinner. She would have to bath, change and want to be sociable. Her mother had been so excited about it.

Petunia did not want to deny her mother of the little things. Lily had waved to someone and gave Petunia a worried look before going to greet. Petunia slowly sipped the alcohol. Eileen was going to be half-an-hour more. Severus was already in the pub talking to someone with blond hair. She savoured the burning feeling of fire whiskey.

The Petunia a year ago would be getting ready at someone’s place to go out. Marvolo sat on the seat Lily had left. Petunia knew she should not have showered with the black soap made of lavender and murtlap essence. It was the same thing she had been wearing the night she had met him. He picked up on the books Lily had left.

“Didn’t know you were interested in human transfiguration, Petunia,” he said.

“Why would I bother with something that can be solved by a simple Polyjuice potion,” Petunia replied.

There was something about him. The ageless grace or the genuine fact that he was prettier than most she had slept with. She almost did at one point a year ago. He was charming and he made it seem that he could be trusted. She knew men like that, at least Ross could be counted to keep his promises.

“So a potion enthusiast through and through,” Marvolo’s red irises looked straight at her brown ones.

Petunia’s mind skipped back into that night. It should have been forgotten and kept deep into the archives. It would cost her, to be honest, so she was dishonest and dishonesty never stayed hidden.

Chapter Text

The last year of school had started and Jean made sure that they were sharing a room together again. Petunia had had friends before but she was sure that Jean would have liked her if she wasn’t athletic at all. Petunia had flopped on her bed after a rough netball session.

The season was still a long way off, so most of the time they were doing drills, which included a lot of running. Petunia had felt out of sort in her time back at the boarding school. She stopped working, as usual, when the school term started. Odgen threw her eyes filled with judgement as she handed in her work badge a week earlier than even Severus.

She missed it though, the long hours in front of a cauldron. Potions were one of the few branches that needed very little magic to activate the potion. It was usually for longer potions and even then, fire control was more simple and effective with a gas burner like they kind they used on Spinner’s End. She always missed potions when she was away from then.

Jean, on the other hand, had a couple of ideas about what she wanted to do after. Some of them even included Petunia hanging around for it. Jean had gotten her driver’s licence over the summer, not that she needed it at school. After Jean’s constant needling Petunia managed to get permission for Jean to be the team manager. So they basically lived out of each other’s pockets over the next year.

Petunia liked it though. Jean never wanted anything from Petunia other than as a friend or ally during the constant judgement of everyone around them. Scratch the previous statement, she loved the fact that Jean expected the bare minimum from her.

Jean threw a blanket over Petunia, knowing that Petunia was not going to get up for at least an hour. She was sore and probably would kill to be back at home in a bath at home with salts and ice. Jean immediately got to work. It wasn’t by accident that she was at the top of the class at every subject she took. Jean worked harder than almost everyone else, with not a second wasted.

Petunia let herself sleep for exactly an hour. Before forcing herself out of bed, she opened a container with biscuits. On the front was a simple rune etched on it. Something whimsical and allowed it to stay hidden. Petunia went to the bathroom and changed out of practice gear. Jean had made tea and already munched through the first biscuit. One of the orange-spice ones that Severus made with her mom.

Petunia found a custard one and flicked her maths book open to tackle the questions set out. She sat on the edge of her bed, a terrible habit of hers and took out her mechanical pencil. The questions were about the same level as the arithmetic equations that Eileen had made her do as a child. If she were a witch, she would have had the opportunity to work on a potion mastery. Maybe she would approach the Ministry on muggle-wizard relations. Petunia held in her laughter.

It made very little sense for her to keep dreaming about a world that would not respect her. That world was both Lily’s and Severus’ to occupy, to be great in and to use to thrive.

Lily usually sent her letters to Petunia once a month. She had taken the NEWT’s required to become an Auror, along with Ancient Runes. Severus had the same number of subjects along with Arithmancy. Which made Petunia nervous. It meant that he was creating spells. Spell creation was a difficult process of trial and error. Sometimes when Severus wrote to her his pages smelt of burns and had complicated puzzles on them.

She would take her time to solve them and send them back when she managed to get away from school. There was a knock at the door.

“Petunia Evans, the warden wants to see you in her office.”

Jean stood up and pulled out Petunia’s uniform as Petunia pulled back her loose hair into a braid. The warden expected everyone to see her in school uniform if possible. A strange and archaic requirement that no one had dared refute. It ten minutes she was outside the office and knocked on the door waiting to enter, her father was on the other side.

“Eileen is in hospital, she doesn’t have long to live and ask that you be there,” he said.

The warden said nothing other than, “We as Holloway House will support you on your decision.”

“I should be back tonight, Eileen was very strict about me receiving an education.”

Petunia tried to think of a world without Eileen as she went up to pack a weekend bag. Jean tried to get anything out of Petunia other than the fact that Petunia was going to the hospital where she worked in the summer. She promised she would be back with more biscuits because her mother was definitely a stress baker. She gave Jean promises that she would be back in a week and not to worry.

Magic could solve it, magic had always been able to solve the problems in her life. Or so she thought. Mr. Evans dropped her off at St Mungo’s before going to the hotel he had booked. He was only doing this because he had heard enough tales about disobeying the wishes of the dying. Mr. Evans like most people had a healthy fear of God. Petunia wished that he feared men more.

Severus was waiting for her at the front desk. He like her was in his school uniform. It made Petunia look even more out of place. She was not a Hogwarts student, but sh, but she was still a student. She wished she had worn a longer skirt and something thicker than her school jumper. She looked too muggle and would have the attention on her.

” Which ward?”

” Experimental damage. Lord Gaunt and dad are with her, ” Severus said.

They walked quickly through the corridors and into Eileen’s room. Petunia thought that she had seen Eileen exhausted but covered with blankets while still shivering made Petunia re-evaluate that statement.

”It’s Lily who should be here, ” Petunia said. Standing next to Tobias, she felt out of place. She took a deep breath hoping that somehow she could smell Spinner’s End with its too many people and very little to go around.

”Stubborn aren’t you?” Eileen said smiling.

Petunia ignored Marvolo watching in the corner. His eyes shifted to Severus more often than Petunia liked. She sat on the edge of Eileen’s bed.

” You’re the one who taught me to have a voice. How terrible would it be if I abandoned it now?”

Eileen laughed, only for it to devolve into a set of coughs that wracked her entire body. Tobias clenched his jaw, they all knew what was happening to her, often happened to those who worked in experimental potions. He was powerless, Eileen had done it so that Severus could have a place in the wizarding world.

“We named it, the antidote, Prince’s Promise,” Eileen said.

The smile was small but Petunia knew what that meant. Eileen had finally made the potion contribution that could not be taken away from her. They used her Wizard name for it. At the end of the day, it probably hadn't been a group effort when it had come to finally putting the potion together. She remembered the letters, Eileen and Tobias would write to her. Tobias was so excited that Eileen’s tenure would be over at St Mungo’s, for all the unhappiness life brought, Tobias really loved having his wife around.

Petunia tried to not think of crying, mostly because she wanted to ask a lot of questions. Without Marvolo looking over the family’s shoulder. A healer stood at the door and gently forced all of them out except for Marvolo. Petunia took one look at Severus before pulling him into a hug and then they both sank to the floor as he leaned his weight on her. She knew that he wouldn’t be able to bear it, so Petunia gave him permission to break. She wasn’t as good as her mum or dad when it came to that.

”Fuck,” she hissed out.

”Language,” Tobias said his heart wasn’t in it.

Petunia knew that in order to get any sleep that night she would have to look at the files or at least talk to the healer when they came out. She wasn’t a close family member on any piece of paper but she was just as much of a Snape as she was an Evans. Neither of them left their own behind.

Fenwick and Charles had come themselves with the potions required. Petunia knew the vails by sight alone. There were too many potions in the mixture that were used to calm. This was not an aggressive treatment potion mixture. It was more for palliative care, they had given up, which meant that it was her job to let the family know that they had permission to give up too. She stood up and took off her jumper. Severus was starting to shiver as the shock was getting to him. Petunia knew that he needed the smell of his mother’s soap more than she did right now.

”Master Fenwick, Master Potter, ” she greeted. Tobias did not look startled at the greeting. He looked like a man who would be opting to not move again unless he had too.

Fenwick and Charles both gave faint smiles and knocked on the door to let the Healers know that the potions were here. Petunia knew the protocol from her summer working at the hospital. The healer waved his wand in front of bottles to ensure nothing had tampered with before preparing it to be served. The fact that the healer and not a mediwizard was doing the task told Petunia that St Mungo’s really had valued, Eileen. That meant her treatment had been expensive.

”Mr. Snape, I'm going to fetch the account so far, do you need me to get you some tea?” she asked.

Tobias looked out of his depth. She could not blame him. It was not an everyday occurrence. Severus didn’t look like he would be able to step up either, so Petunia was going to force herself to do that. Luckily she had left closer to the weekend. It would give her enough time to sort things out before and still go back to school. She was only allowed to miss two matches before being kicked off the team. Petunia had never missed a match before.

Petunia put her day bag down in front of Severus. She offered him a drink of water before giving him one last hug. They were heading into winter and even St Mungo’s wasn’t immune to the gusts of cold wind that seemed to pop in from everywhere. Her school shoes loudly tapped against the floor of the hospital, while her stockings developed a run from the careless pace she was walking at. To the right of the front desk was the finances section. A goblin was in charge of the section. An exchange for healing services. The goblin was a junior one but Petunia bowed deeply. She would need allies if the bill was close to what she thought it would be.

”May your wealth flow strongly, ” Petunia said trying not to stumble over the words and hoped what she said was right. She pulled a knut from her pocket and placed it on his table.

It meant that she was going to do the conversion in the old way. Petunia did not speak any Goblin tongues, languages were something she struggled with. However, both sets of adults had taught her to be respectful even when it felt demeaning.

”Yes, and you are here on…”

”Behalf of Eileen Snape, formerly Prince, I need a written out version of both her St Mungo’s care account and her personal account, ” Petunia said.

Goblins did not like small talk or pointless questions. They valued honesty and it was a trait Petunia could work with.

”Verification is required. Mrs. Snape still has Prince blood flowing through her veins, ” the goblin said.

Petunia took out Mrs. Snape’s Gringots bank key, it was a spare keyed into Petunia should anything be required and Severus wasn't of age to handle it. Eileen had the key created for a time like this. It had been part of her birthday present this year. An act of utmost faith in Petunia.

Petunia took out the key to her own account for personal verification and handed them both to the goblin. As both the accounts, we're fairly new and not wealthy getting information from them wasn’t difficult. The goblin gave Petunia a ceremonial knife for her to prick herself with in order for blood verification to take place. The magic on the parchment never ceased to amaze Petunia. All it started was her name and nearest magical relative as well as the money in the account, right below it was Eileen’s information along with the list of funds available for immediate withdrawal. The limit had been set for 50 gallons and she would need Eileen’s permission to withdraw more than that.

”The hospital account is 100 gallons, so far, and can be paid over a period of six months, ” he said.

”Thank you for letting me know. Could you transfer twenty-hours of Petunia Evans’ wages into Eileen’s hospital account?”

The goblin nodded. Petunia had just received her last payslip from the hospital. Eileen had only been at the hospital for a day and already care seemed to be incredibly expensive. If it was for Eileen, Petunia knew she would leave everything for her.

Chapter Text

Eileen moaned in pain. Everything hurt so badly. It was like a set of gongs that were constantly going off in her head. Petunia and Tobias spent alternate days in the hospital. Petunia dropped out of school. She had never been shouted at so loudly by Tobias. He gave it to her that night as he screamed in fury about how she had just thrown everything away.

He wanted to make her feel guilty, but Petunia knew that this was not a decision she had made lightly. Petunia had taken up a position at the hospital. This time it was not in experimental potion creation but rather as a fulltime brewer at the apothecary run inside the hospital. The position was all that was there on offer for a muggle girl who could brew but didn’t have magic. Magic counted for a lot, too much than it was worth, Petunia thought. There was a spell or potion out of every situation, if those solutions didn’t work then they could restructure it into the runes could change the very fabric of magic if used in the correct combination.

The work required that Petunia start early and come home late. She moved in with Darren, trying very hard not to murder him. They were amicable roommates for the most part. Petunia cooked and cleaned, while he took over the huge space of their lounge and dining room to practice.

He did not ask what was going on and Petunia felt grateful for that. Darren enjoyed cheating, he told her over leftover’s one evening. He liked the power and that it didn’t mind who it was as long as he was in control. Sometimes Petunia slept with him, not knowing who needed to convince whom of power. Darren was easy, he liked it when she went down on him and as long as he used a condom, Petunia enjoyed having him in her.

Clara had said that it was easy to get addicted to it. To the sensations and when it was used well, to forgetting about everything but it. Sometimes Jean came over, to check up and to try to convince Petunia to come back. Those moments were funny, just because Darren would spend too long cowering, as Jean came through the door and set up a hookah pipe. Jean would then rant about anything and everything under the sun. The smoke usually flavoured filled the air and Darren spent too long looking from afar.

“She’s never going to look at you twice,” Petunia said, as they both got ready for work.

“So how do I make her look?” He asked almost desperately.

Petunia just grinned, having the upper hand when it came to Darren was never really a bad thing.

Still, not brewing was taking a toll on her. Petunia had effectively stopped talking to her parents. She still sent them money, mostly to keep them from pestering her too. If she was working, then she was earning and if she was earning, she owed them money. Petunia was not going to complain about that. She had to be working and earning in Goaloens. Wizard’s charged in their currency and the goblin’s used gold to pound exchange rates when it came to get coins. It just made sense for her to her, since she was the only one with the skills to earn.

Slughorn had insisted that Severus go back to Hogwart’s when he saw that Petunia would be taking control of the situation. There was no need for him to be there. Even if he wanted to, he was of no use, he did not know enough to become a full-time brewer at St Mungo’s and Charles Potter would not sign the waiver for Severus to become part of the team.

Petunia took a break from brewing. It had been Darren’s turn to make dinner last night, so they had ended up with just sandwiches and stale coffee. Not the most appetizing lunch, but Petunia chose not to complain. She needed a break from trying to man five different stations. The whole thing of brewing potions like this was volume but also consistency. St Mungo’s demanded that every product that came out of the labs would have a uniform baseline result. The consistency made if difficult to achieve.

The month had gone by both quickly and painfully slowly. Petunia lost count of the number of nights where she just wanted to curl up into a ball and cry herself to sleep where she stood. Her being here, almost all the time at St Mungo’s was what kept Tobias sane enough to keep his job. He stopped taking the extra shifts though and Petunia could not begrudge him for that decision he had made.

Petunia was not lost in her thoughts, rather she was looking for a way out of them. The experimental damage ward had still not been able to diagnose Eileen. Petunia during her extra reading found nothing in written about the Prince’s that could indicate that this was a bloodline curse at work. She also avoided Lord Gaunt at all costs, he was the person in charge of investigating the case and she had tried to move it out of his hands only to be firmly stopped by the Head Healer.

Lord Gaunt gave her the same feelings as Ross. Someone pretty enough to get power and use it to their advantage. That philosophy Petunia could get behind, it was what came after that sent shivers down her spine. Men like that were self-serving and did not seem to mind the cost.

Petunia popped the last bit of bread crust into her mouth. She had to teach Darren to cook something more substantial.

“Miss Evan’s just the girl I was looking for,” Charles said.

Petunia tried very hard not to roll her eyes at the obvious signs of flattery. Charles wanted her to do something dangerous. Men were always nicer when they wanted her to do something for them.

“You’re OWL and NEWT potion results came through, by the way, it was an outstanding all around, but that’s not why I need you,” Charles said. “Did Eileen ever tell you how to make opium?”

“From poppy seeds?” Petunia asked.

“Yes, the very one.”

Petunia nodded. She had made a batch with Eileen only once over the last six years. It was not something that Eileen made regularly. Opium she made for paying customers and even then the customers needed to have been in pain so incredibly high that death was certain. The substance was highly addictive and Eileen let no one in the house taste or smoke it. They only made enough for the customer and not a gram more.

“Lord Gaunt thought it would be a good idea to make some for her, combined with a Dreamless Sleep or a Draught of Living Death,” Charles said.

Petunia’s face changed. She knew it had been a month, but they were back at the same conclusion. If they were now talking about the above combination is met that they were aiding her to meet Death. Petunia knew the story of the three brothers. The story was one of the few wizarding ones that Tobias enjoyed. The story talked about Death and how each brother chose to die. Many saw it as a story about life and choose it well. In the Snape household, it had been more of a biblical warning. They had to meet Death with open arms because outrunning it was not one of the choices given.

“I need poppy seeds then, you know which ones. I’ll prepare the brew for it after I finish my shift at the apothecary,” Petunia said.

There was a slight headache that settled on the base of her neck. One that would need a lot of alcohol and a cigarette to deal with. There was a certain sense of humour to this. Petunia had vowed that she would never turn to smoke and drinking to solve her problems because she had seen what it did to people and their families. She was like the people she had judged so harshly. Petunia could not dream of going to bed without alcohol now, even if it was just a beer from the fridge. She wasn’t picky, she just needed it to sleep.

At least Petunia’s shift at the apothecary seemed to be a relatively quiet one. No one had come in screaming for them to make some obscure potion from books that required a literal blood sacrifice. On days like this, those weighted heavily with sadness, Petunia was glad for the relatively quiet days.

Tobias had written early that morning that he would not be able to make it to the hospital today. It was not often where the exhaustion took Tobias on so harshly that he could barely stand straight. Petunia clocked out and wrote in blue ink which portion of her wages she wanted transferring to Eileen’s account. She took a shower and changed onto a set of clothes about a decade out of fashion. It was the most wizard clothing she owned and she did need to get to Diagon Alley for some of the ingredients.

The Leaky Cauldron was filled to the brim with people and the wireless played the latest quidditch match of the season. Petunia’s heart ached. She missed netball a lot. Tom nodded at Petunia, he had known her since her first visit with Lily. He tapped her through himself at the back of the pub and Petunia took the long walk to the edge of Knockturn Alley, with her hood up.

“Odds and Ends’ was neither a store in Diagon or Knockturn Alley. Somehow it managed to exist in the divide between the two Alleys. A fairly respectable place doing sometimes dodgy business. It was Petunia’s preferred place to get ingredients as no one in the store tended to ask her why she wasn’t at school or don't carry a wand. While Petunia looked mature to other muggles, in the wizard community she was just another stray child even at eighteen. The bell on the door rang and had the door not announced her arrival Petunia was sure to leave. Lord Gaunt was there looking at the price of unicorn horns.

Petunia couldn’t very well conduct business when he was in the room. It was just as well the attendants looked positively smitten by him.

“Is Pamona here?” Petunia asked after failing to wave the attendant down. Pamona Sprout was the only person Petunia trusted on the entirety of Britain to get ingredients from. She was a woman who took zero nonsense and always charged a fair price. It was a quality Petunia could get around. The attendant ignored her and kept staring off at Lord Gaunt.

Petunia bit her lip and went to look around at the ingredients. She would probably ask again when he left. But it was important that she got to Pomona purely because Petunia did need certain ingredients from her to make the opium creations process faster.

“If you are looking for the opium starter kits, it seems like Lord Gaunt here reserved the last one,” Pomona said as she wrapped up Petunia’s purchase of bay leaves and organic honey.

“That’s ok,” Petunia said, trying not to let her smile waiver in the slightest. She was tired, full-on exhausted and it hadn’t even been a long day.

“If you do want it for recreation purposes you are more than willing to join me,” he said.

Petunia was tempted. She was also an aware human, so she made the responsible decision. Her mother would, by all means, be proud of her for it.

“No, thank you, my roommate would be worried if I didn’t show my face in the flat at least once in a while,” she said.

Making opium with Pomona’s kits were usually relatively easy. It had been what Eileen had recommended to her the last time.

“It’s honestly no problem at all, I’ll have you back in her arms in the morning.”

“His,” Petunia corrected automatically.

She watched as his eyes boggled. The forward and backwards, then the anger that indicated that he thought that it was improper. That was fine with Petunia she would rather be improper with the ability to live life on her terms than not at all.

Chapter Text

Petunia didn’t think she would ever give up running. She and Darren still went on runs every morning. The running route was more like a race, the loser would have to make the winner breakfast. Breakfast was one of the few types of food Darren could cook.

Petunia usually made the rest of their meals. They both had long workdays and his weekend was usually monopolized by ballet shows. Sometimes he got her tickets to them. Usually, she gave them away to people who would enjoy the atmosphere more than she did. It was the definition of an amicable relationship. Darren knew he no longer could get her to fall in love with him.

Sometimes they wondered if it would be easier if they lived apart. The short answer to that was that it probably would be easier to live away from each other. But they both desperately needed a friend and someone in their corner even if it hurt to admit so. He was in a world that didn’t trust very many people and she was in a position where she couldn’t trust anyone.

St Mungo’s had taken a toll on her as she tried to keep up with the bills both from the hospital and Spinner’s End. They were aided by a small portion of royalties that came from marketing Prince’s Promise, especially since the potion itself seemed to be an antidote to more than one specific poison. However, since the potion itself wasn’t that difficult to make and the Snape’s needed the money from it, Petunia now found herself busy with paperwork to copyright the potion for private use.

The Master’s hadn’t been happy with her when she had decided to use that approach. To them, it was selfish for her to do that, but they all came from the money of some sort, so Petunia ignored the hypocrisy. They needed money for Eileen’s care, which she had been assured by Healer’s could not be suitably done in a home environment. Severus also needed money as well. Tobias took care of the home expenses and Petunia tried to go down the Cokesworth at least once a week to keep up Eileen’s clients.

Petunia never really wanted to grow up. She did want children and a husband one day, but it wasn’t something she had thought about wanting anytime soon. Those things were things for after Lily was finished with school and could finally support herself. They were dreams for a tomorrow when Petunia did not have to work or share a flat with Darren.

Petunia had lost the race this morning back to the flat and was making breakfast while Darren showered. She didn’t have to be at St Mungo’s until about midday, so it had all worked out in her favour. She still had to find a good source for poppy seeds to make opium, she didn’t dare try to make it in the apartment for fear of how dangerous it could be.

“You going to be back early, so we can go out after my show?” Darren asked, slathering strawberry jam that Petunia had smuggled from back home.

“Yea, I should be back before the end of the show. Don’t know about the going out though. I promised Jean that I’d meet up with her after work,” Petunia said.

She poured what seemed like her fifth cup of coffee since she got back from her run. Tea didn’t do it anymore besides they had run out of sugar and cream, she dreaded drinking tea without sugar and cream. She added that to the mental grocery list. Darren took out his wallet to give her money for groceries, usually, they both went home and pilfered stuff from there. It was less stressful for both of them to provide for themselves.

“What are you guys planning to do? Why do I even ask, it’s probably just you two smoking while she works on school,” Darren said stealing Petunia’s cup of coffee.

“That’s exactly what we planned to do,” Petunia said sarcastically pouring herself another cup. It was the last cup in the pot. “Do I need to make another pot, or can I leave it?”

“Leave it,” Darren said chugging down water to get rid of the taste of the coffee. “And remember to get more milk and sugar on your way home, we are nearly out.”

Petunia rolled her eyes. There was still too much of an upper-end Cokesworth boy in Darren. It was that part of him that was genuinely impossible to get along with. The world owed him everything and the world owed him more than that for his blessing to shine down on the rest of the plebians.

Petunia took a bath and did her hair. There was too much of it at the moment. It got dirty quickly because of the potions they made. The air was constantly humid and made it difficult to do anything with her hair. If Eileen was awake she would probably scold her for complaining and not wrapping her hair.

But Eileen hadn’t been able to open her eyes for too long in a while. Sometimes she even called Severus, Tobias. It made for a few painful conversations after the entire family visited. They still hadn’t written to Prince’s, Petunia knew the smart thing would be to formally to do so but that would mean they suspected the end soon. Eileen wanted a wizard funeral, she had always been clear about that. She swore to Tobias that she would haunt him from the grave if he chose to have the funeral at a church.

Darren was putting his coat on while Petunia clipped her necklace, the one Lily gave her. It felt like she was carrying the smallest bit of Lily with her.

“If you are coming back replenish the alcohol stock. We only have the whiskey I brought left,” Petunia said.

Darren nodded and kissed the top of her head before he left. Petunia knew by now to not convince the action with any kind of romantic loyalty from him. She had things to worry about, debts to clear and maybe she should get herself to a church. She needed all the blessings she could get.

Petunia could slam her head with the frustration she felt that morning. She spent most of her morning trying to get poppy seeds from different sources. None of them had the smallest chance of matching the quality of Pomona, but at this point, she had very little choice. The very last resort would be asking the goblins. But there were always strings attached when it came to dealing with them.

She would have to talk to Ironfang, if she was nice enough, he would probably give it to her himself. He wasn’t usually that generous with her. It wasn’t a personal thing, who was she kidding, gold was always a personal thing with the goblins. To them it wasn’t being rich, it was simply taking back what was owed to them. They, like her, were forced to belong in a world that was theirs by beings who weren’t them.

She scanned her card to give her access to her the potion room. Her stations were in stasis and she sat down at her bench. The set of regular robes was stuffed into her bag and she pulled on black potion robes. At the lower level of potion makers, she was doing the grunt work, a far cry from the experimental stuff that went through her hands only months ago. Lots of headache relief potions, pain relief potions and Pepper up. Things she could brew with her eyes closed. The work was monotonous and she did just as well as her wizarding counterparts.

Many of them were a few years outside of Hogwarts. A lot of them were Muggle-born and too many of them knew the name, Lily Evans. It wasn’t like she was even trying to get to know them. There were just too little people with the surname Evans. According to her co-workers, they kind of looked like each other. Their hair fell the same way, they walked with the same strides but mostly they had the same eyes. Eyes as green as a killing curse.

Petunia knew all of this. It was something she took comfort in when she was younger, that she and her sister had similar features. It wasn’t that Petunia hated Lily for being beautiful, it was quite the opposite. No, she hated the comparison, the idea that no matter how good she was in her way, that she would never be able to live up to the image people created in their minds of Lily. They were not the ones who had to weather the storm that was the beautiful Lily Evans. She was bitter, not because she had to work but because she just missed Lily.

Lily would have been useless in the situation but it was just so hard on Petunia at the moment. Moving in with Darren had been difficult. Working at the lowest rung of potioneers drove her insane. Most of her worries were how she was going to keep the ship running after Eileen was gone. By heavens, she tried to be optimistic, but every healer she talked to were certain that the best results would be through palliative care. Eileen Snape was dying, and when Petunia thought about what that death might mean to her, she felt very small. Just like the little girl who had to learn how to be big for everyone else.

Barely holding on at any given moment. Petunia zoned out and brewed for hours on end, she brewed until her feet hurt and hair grew greasy from the fumes. Unlike most wizards, Petunia tied her hair back as she brewed, but she was thinking of cutting it all off soon. Maybe she would get Jean to do it tonight, between the study breaks and gossip. Fuck it really, Petunia missed high school and being a kid, the pressures of growing up tended to weigh heavily when one conscientious themselves to it.

It was not the kind of day she was prepared for. Petunia did not enjoy being blindsided, so when a little parchment memo flew in telling her to come to the Potion Master office, Petunia quaked in her boots. If she lost this job, she had nothing to support herself or the bills that the hospital only seemed too happy to give.

She put her station in stasis, grateful that there was only one simmering potion at her station that could simmer for several hours without tending. She drew the anti-tamper wards and took off her brewing robes and threw it into the basket. The house-elves would deal with the dirty robes. Petunia made sure her casual robes looked neat. She knew exactly what Charles Potter’s standards were when it came to people he employed.

She hoped that Charles had the poppy she was looking for, as the weeks would go by they would be increasingly difficult to source. Eileen had prohibited planting it in any of the gardens in Cokesworth, which made the entire production of the potion relied on an outside source. A complete opposite of the motto of self-reliance that the Snapes prided themselves on.

Petunia knocked on the door, taking a moment to admire the elaborate carvings on the door. Wizard’s appreciated fine craftsmanship.

“Come in.”

She pushed open the door and then wanted to run away. The people who looked at her reminded her too much of Eileen. It was the same harsh stare, the proper posture and the same skin, smooth and that tanned too easily in the summer. Black hair and dark eyes, these were the Prince’s. the name that Eileen left behind.

Chapter Text

Petunia preferred to stand. She was taller when she stood, her calves told her to flee and her mind told herself it needed to be blank. All that she saw was life in the Snape house. In a house smaller than her own with people who made her feel happier than her own family by blood had. The memories that were pulled up were the little ones. How Tobias had taught her to cook or fix an engine. Then it switched to Eileen teaching her how to brew potions or look at people. There was a tenseness in the room and Petunia had never felt more poor and small in her life.

It was the eyes that took her off-guard. They were cold and Eileen rarely looked like she was cold. But this was not Eileen, Lord and Lady Prince were people she knew but had never really heard about. Sometimes when Severus sent letters he would send snippets of the news with the two and apart from Eileen, Lord Prince's sister, they had a son who was being primed to take over the Prince estates.

The Prince's were moneyed in the way pureblood families usually were. They judged her robes picked out for their practicality and how well they hid her jeans. The looked at her hands and sneered at the callouses that had formed from the hours of work she had to put in every day. She thought she felt judgement but a word hadn't passed since the "Come in."

"Petunia Evans," she said, sticking out her hand. "You must be Lord and Lady Prince, Mrs. Snape has mentioned you before."

She wasn't going to bow, not before she knew where she stood with them. She was going to be polite though because she was raised to be better than that. Lord Prince looked at her, bringing her memories to the surface. She didn't let go of the eye contact, unlike them she had nothing to hide.

Petunia knew where she stood with magic. As a muggle she would only be part of this world until Eileen left the world and moved over to the other side. She owed her mentors that much.

"I assume you are the apprentice she wrote about," Lord Prince said.

His voice was gravelly, but he did not smell of tobacco.

"Let me not waste both of our times, I want you to release guardianship to make hospital decisions to us," Lady Prince said.

Petunia knew if she had made the first move as she should have, the conversation would have gone the same. Still they had no right to demand this of her. They were not the ones who were here day in and day out. Severus had tied her to this duty. He had done it one night when he got drunk off her stock of firewhiskey. He had promised and bound her to Eileen. That she would do her best, but never give up the duty of looking after what he considered their parents.

"As you know I'm bound. It is a binding I do not take lightly. I'm sure Master Potter has told you so," she did give Charles a reproachful look.

"And the goblins could undo that binding, should you release responsibility to us," Lord Prince pressed on.

"Look even if the goblins could do that, I would not recommend that. It is your sister's son that bound me. The binding, yes, was voluntary, but you should know enough runes to know breaking the binding unnecessarily causes immense pain to those under it."

There was no change in their faces, but Petunia saw the signs. They thought she was acting like a petulant child. If it was a year ago, she would have given off her duties to them almost gladly. They had the money to pay for it, but the Petunia a year ago would have said 'yes' to a man who seemed to have enough money to take care of her. She would manage to pay the bills. She always did.

"You petulant child, what makes you think you have the faintest ability with your inferior blood to take care of our sister," Lady Prince seemed to have Black blood flowing through her veins. Blacks tended to run on the angry side.

"I would watch myself if I was you. As filthy as my blood is, it's my kind who keep your kind running, while your kind works to make the lives of my kind more difficult. Do not start with me," Petunia's voice blazed like the summer.

She was not Lily, her anger would be like flames, fueling itself until it consumed her.

"If you can help with bills it would be appreciated or poppy seeds, but that is all we need from you."

Petunia had drawn the line in the sand. Just the way she had been taught and drawn the lines in her life with the people around her.

"I'm leaving if that's all, I have a potion I need to get back to."

Charles had said nothing. "I think you should take their offer Petunia. They have the funding to fund experimental treatment. We don't even know what's wrong with her. You know how much she is hurting, don't you?" Charles implored.

Petunia knew they were wearing her down and they were winning.

"Give me a day, I need to ask Severus if you insist on continuing to press on me like this. Tobias as well, they deserve to know of the offer and are the only ones who should be deciding on who is shooting the shots."

Petunia nodded and walked out before being dismissed. She went straight to Eileen's room and sent out one of the memo birds to the potion department for someone else to finish up her potion. It wasn't unusual for someone to send in a memo like that when they felt overwhelmed as long as they didn't do it often. Overwhelmed was a good way to put how she had been feeling over the last two months since she left school to do this full time. She was the blind leading the blind and it hurt that she wasn't able to control was going on.

She sat down next to Eileen and took off the robes she normally wore when other people were around. They didn't like a reminder that she was a muggle. Which to be fair was an ok assumption to make. She untied her hair from the bun she normally wore it in to let it breathe, it would get too greasy to manage otherwise.

If she didn't know the signs of discomfort, she would have thought that Eileen was just sleeping.

"You know you don't have to do this," Eileen said. "Be the good daughter."

"And who would fill those shoes?" Petunia said.

"No one, that's the whole point."

The good daughter meant that Lily and Severus did not have to think about their roles in life.

"It's not a burden. Once this is all over and you're back at home, I'll collect the debt I promise."

Eileen smiled one of the few tired smiles that had become part of her life. Eileen knew why Petunia was doing this. She was trying to please everyone, trying to keep it all together. She heard the fight with Tobias, Rose and Henry. She agreed with them all. Petunia had too much potential just to leave school and spent her time in a place that would do nothing for her once all of this was over.

"An Evans always collects their debts then?" Eileen whispered.

"No, not really, I just don't want you all to think that I'm doing this all out of some twisted case of loyalty." Petunia said firmly.

She needed to make that clear, she was doing this because no one else she knew could be relied upon to do so. Lily and Severus should never have to make the choices that she made. It was hers alone to bear, her, Eileen and her mom's.

She wished they had told her that when the was younger. No one magically became a woman. Some people tended to be fragile, like her own mother. People like Petunia, those with edges instead of soft curves had to learn how to be put together.

"Your brother came by. They should be here soon actually," Petunia said. "But I do have to ask before I leave, where do I get poppies?"

"Petunia you know the rules. No opium not now, not ever. I want to feel my death. Every painful bit," Eileen's voice sounded stronger than it had in a while.

No poppies then. Eileen had said so and Petunia was nothing if not obedient. She kissed Eileen before she left, just as she did every time she had to leave. Tobias would come down today, it was Friday, he worked his shortest shift for the week then. She met the Price's once again and she bobbed her head in recognition. She should pen the letter after she talked to Tobias in person, it was only fair she did that for him.

She hoped that she had enough time to do that. She pulled her hair back up and clipped it with one of the long clips Jean left at the apartment. She just had one more round of headache pain reliever to free before she could clock out.

She would also have to try to make it to the post office to use one of the owls to mail letters to Severus and Lily. It was still early enough in the term for them so she wasn't too worried about dropping bombs on them. Petunia would need to know what Severus thought about giving Eileen's care to her parents. Tobias she knew would refuse therefore asking him was a decision she would make only after getting Severus' approval. It would take the two of them to wear him out.

About two hours later, as she was beginning to wrap up for the day another airplane memo flew into the potion room. It had the Prince crest on the paper along with the Gaunt one. She had been given access to the private brewing rooms to brew opium.

Chapter Text

Unlike a lot of other girls, Jean never thought Petunia was a slut for sleeping with people. Her qualms with Petunia were more along the lines of what kind of books she read or why she wanted to study science.

Things that girls were never really portrayed to talk about. Petunia was quiet about her life, which Jean could respect. What Jean struggled to wrap her head around was why Petunia thought dropping out of the college and moving in with her ex was a great life plan.

People on the outside did not see it, but Petunia was wicked smart. Not in a traditional book sense but in a practical sense. The world made sense to Petunia because she could touch it. There were things she could construct and those constructs followed laws and patterns. It was that form, a method of thinking, that made Jean stop to give Petunia a look in the first place.

It was the calculated way Petunia played netball or how she managed to do her homework in small cramped spaces of their room when she got tired of sitting at the table.

So, yes, she was confused at how someone with so much potential had just decided that she would choose not to fill it. The thing is Jean knew better than most that family went beyond blood. She lived with her dad and "uncle" in the rough side of town. She knew they were different from two people who normally lived together but no one questioned what they didn't know.

You see Jean knew how people hid things because her family hid all the time. There were secrets no one was meant to know so she would have Petunia keep her secrets.

She looked at her watch and tackled Petunia into a hug as she appeared at the park entrance. The bags under her eyes had gotten bigger and her hair longer. She had her hair lose, but it looked like it could to with a wash.

" Darren and I need groceries and more alcohol, then we can celebrate your birthday with some amount of grace," Petunia said.

Jean waited outside for half an hour as Petunia did her shopping. They even managed to find coals, the good quality kind.

They both rolled their eyes and laughed, it was really stupid, but Jean missed Petunia being at school. She missed just having someone in her corner because over there most of the time it felt like she was the only supporter in her corner.

Grocery shopping took a while and Petunia batted her eyelashes to get alcohol for the flat. Between her and Darren they did have a problem that needed to be addressed. Jean helped herself to some bread and strawberry jam, the sun started setting and Petunia was stocking up the fridge while starting to prepare dinner.

They bought a cake from a bakery around the corner that Petunia liked. Jean prepared shisha, Darren would most likely only come back a couple of hours later, usually with a couple of members from the company he worked at. Jean had only seen a handful of Darren's show. He was a really good dancer and had this energy about him that never seemed to mellow out even when smoking.

Petunia chopped vegetables as they talked about school and other things. There was no mention of Petunia's job other than the hours seemed to drag on and that she couldn't take as many days off.

"Is today a meat kind of day or not?" Petunia asked.

It was moments like this where Jean could say that she loved Petunia, loved how she never turned off the part where she looked out for people.

"No meat, but just enough potatoes to fry. I managed to get the good stuff," Jean took out the smallest slivers of cooked down weed.

"How?" Petunia asked her eyes open widely.

"Someone from school exchanged it for a shit tonne of essays," Jean said with a grin.

Petunia served stir fry over rice. Jean had already poured out wine and they lit a candle. It was actually kind of funny how much effort went into Petunia's moments alone with Jean. It added a sense of comfort and normalcy to a life that was about neither at the moment.

They smoked as they ate. Slowly with every hit. Darren hadn't come home yet, so they decided to attack the cake anyway with forks. Haphazardly and without any sort of structure, both of them would have hated it, but sober action did not always mean sober thoughts.

Jean usually did a lot of reading when she was high or drunk and that's how Darren found them. His feet were sore, no lie, no his entire body was sore. He opened the fridge and pulled out the whiskey that Petunia kept at the back before taking a fork. He ignored the vegetables and rice and dug in at the cake.

He liked to think that he had made a life for himself outside of Cokesworth, but he had not. The life he had now made very little sense. Petunia had come back and asked to live with him. It brought the structure back into his life. He and Petunia had never made a good couple but he could see them becoming friends. They were friends.

He snuggled next to Jean and read the next couple of pages with her and brought the wine bottle to his lips. It wasn't the kind his parents served at dinner. But it was what they drank now, that and ate cake for dinner as if they had no responsibility outside the walls of their flat.

"You guys have to at least come for one of the nights during the Christmas show," he said, rubbing his legs with a salve that Petunia usually bought.

"You think you're going to do more than dance in the background?" Petunia asked snidely.

"Hopefully, but my birthday is in two weeks we do this properly. Not sad like this, you guys come to the ballet and we go to a concert, alright," Darren said.

He got a half-hearted reply from two girls who thought their books are way more interesting than his plans. So, Darren did what he enjoyed doing, he turned on music and started dancing.

Darren knew he wasn't a bad dancer, even in his company surrounded by dancers who easily can do the things he did, he was not a bad dancer. He was expressive and explosive, when he danced, he made sure the rest of the world was watching no matter how small. Darren was tipsy enough to not care that was improper to take the book out of Petunia's hand and to spin her around fast only to stop and throw her in the air. She picked up though and in turn grabbed Jean. Between them they were trying to get Jean to become a better dancer. One that doesn't look stiff even when sober.

Jean let out a noise of protest only to follow Darren's movements. It was almost mesmerizing to watch and Darren wished he could record the moment to playback even though he was certain that by tomorrow he would have forgotten almost everything about dance and movement that manifested itself at that moment.

Jean was the one who suggested that they should get tattoos. No one tried to refute it, all of them too caught up in the high that made its way around. Like most things Jean knew a place with people who could do what asked and did not question a man's motive. Sometimes Petunia worried about the kind of people Jean knew. Then she reminded herself that she was in no place to judge because she worked in a magical hospital.

They walked and burst out into laughter randomly, letting the irresponsible decision they were about to make gloss over. Petunia knew now why Eileen didn't want any drugs; she honestly felt so light that she could fly. Surrounded by people she enjoyed, Petunia signed consent papers and flashed money because heaven knows she worked hard for it. Then they sat together and no one discussed what they were getting or how they were getting it. This was blamed on the rush of sugar and the dilated eyes of a high so beautiful Petunia are afraid of crashing.

"I want a vase of flower: lilies, poppies, roses, petunias, daffodils and anything else, they need to be different, no two must look the same," she found herself rambling to a man who looked tired of her.

He nodded and sketched, before getting her approval. Petunia pulled off her blouse and pointed at where she wanted it done. The man asked her again if she was sure and Petunia is sure. Something for herself and something permanent, so they did it, they place the stencil on her skin as she laid down and asked her to comment when she was ready.

Jean listened carefully and asked questions about how to take care of everything, then gets three of everything. They stumble back home and Darren stopped the corner store to get snacks and more oil. They were so wrapped up in life surrounded by music and just ate cooked chips that Darren attempted.

Petunia turned on the alarm clock and threw a blanket over Jean who took Darren's bed most of the time when she was there. Darren usually slept in her room then and she took the couch. She had work later and turned off the alarm immediately as it went off.

She showered as she made tea and crept around the house quietly. She barely remembered getting the tattoo but now her ribs throbbed slightly. Her head hurt too, alcohol and drugs never made the best combination. She tried to remember the drug combination that she took. It made her feel like complete crap and she did have to stop herself from vomiting. She sipped water with equal parts of salt and sugar as she got dressed. The flat thankfully did not look too bad but it was something that Darren would have to do.

She wrote a note to Jean and put on flat shoes. Today was a flat shoe kind of day.

The hospital was in full panic mode. There had been multiple Death Eater attacks and they were going through their supplies faster than normal. Petunia threw on her potion robes and took a glance at the list and amount of ingredients she had been given.

"Brew fast and only use approved shortcuts, the apothecaries can only give us only as much as they have in stock. Work carefully and wisely," Charles said, taking the station at the front of the room that was usually kept empty.

Petunia took a painkiller and popped some gum in her mouth today would be the longest of long days.

Chapter Text

Petunia was good at this kind of brewing, better than most of her wizarding peers. The kind of techniques that she used back when she was brewing in the Snape kitchen. It was just her, Eileen and the limited ingredients they managed to get their hands on. She broke the potion up into their bases, three big batches and then the batches got split. She, like everyone, else was brewing without gloves today. Gloves tended to get in the way and rags were faster to grab as long as they were not soaked with other weird potions.

Not getting soaked in weird potions became part of the norm as the first potion exploded. Normal, just normal, they all would have burst out laughing if Charles wasn’t int the room. A House Elf appeared to clean the stain, it was licorice-like. Petunia swapped stations with the person next to her, Garret was better at vailing potions than she was. He rarely wasted a drop, while she was better at the more intricate changes in the potion.

Brewing like this wasn’t textbook style. They didn’t teach anything like this at schools because it wasn’t required for homeschooling. Most of the people who worked in her department were the people who were homeschooled and had zero aspirations outside of this. She liked brewing with them because even if there was a crisis in the hospital or the wizarding world, she could count on the steady presence of the potions room.

They all could stop death or brew glory, but they chose to stay out of the way and brew because that was what was needed for them. There was no petty house bullshit and blood status wasn’t something they talked about. In terms of the hospital system, they were an odd bunch and people went out of their way to avoid them unless they were needed.

They moved around each other’s stations almost with a hive mentality, everyone checking potions off the collective list while avoiding Charles. Although he ran the department, he had never been part of the core brewing team. They were a machine, or more accurately like bees that belonged to the same hive. There was a goal and that was making sure they were not going to run out of potions anytime soon.

Petunia took out a ceremonial knife to add her blood into one of the potions. The blood replenishing potion always called for O-negative muggle blood. They had packs of it lying around but when they were on a time crunch the team found the Petunia’s blood worked just as well since the potion only needed a drop or two.

She walked around the room adding her blood to everyone who was brewing. Someone was mock casting a lunar cycle to get one of their potions to hurry up, to alter the day around a potion took a lot of effort and one had to be willing to pay the physical price for such a demanding cast. Those who did only did so sparingly.

Petunia offered to do one of the runs to the apothecary on-site to take stock of what was going on and how much they needed. She should not have gone out because what she saw horrified her. It was as if the world fell apart while she was locked away downstairs, she barely had passed over the crate of vails they had made, before the Healer in charge passed on the sheet that had a list of potions that they would need in about 12 hours.

“Master Potter, the new list from the dispensary,” she said placing the list next to him.

“Petunia, get some stock from experimental potions, valerian root, peeled if they have some,” Charles said not looking up.

“Yes sir,” Petunia said. She knew what he was doing. He always did that to some extent, he forgot that she was here partly because of her merit too and was more than someone who could just do grunt work.

She held her tongue though because what she saw in the halls of St Mungo were things she felt should never be repeated. The Pureblood agenda pushed by the Death Eater’s sounded similar to the stuff people spewed during the second war. There was no way she would allow Lily to live in a world like the one she was seeing.

She got the valerian out of the storeroom and proceeded the tedious task of stripping the bark. Her fingers worked quickly while her mind wondered. Darren’s birthday was coming soon and she still had to get Christmas presents for everyone. Money was not as tight as she first suspected, but that could also be the extra hours she was working. She had to go home too, her mother looked kind of droopy and was definitely on some drug or the other. Her father hadn’t stopped cheating either, but nothing she said stopped her mom from letting her father back in the house.

She was trying to learn how to live with that decision. She then started chopping the valerian and took over from the witch who had been at the prep station. The prep station was for ingredients that could be prepared in bulk and was not sensitive to being left in the open. The whole table had a stasis charm on it and Petunia was using a ceremonial potion knife. One of Eileen’s old ones. It was actually smaller than a chef’s knife and it fits nicely in her hand, she could wax poetry about the knife.

They had to break into the bag of muggle blood, which lead to a huge batch of blood replenishing potion being made. The entire room had gotten more stressed as the day progressed and by three it had become clear to all of them that they were not going to be able to clock out in time. They had gone to the fireplace to call their respective families or to get another set of clothes. Petunia during her break ran to the nearest telephone booth to tell Darren and Jean that she wouldn’t be around tonight or most likely for the next couple of days. Unlike a lot of her co-workers there weren’t people that she desperately had to go back home to. They would be worried but mostly because they would think she was pulling unreal hours.

When Charles finally forced her to go home, she went to Hogsmeade to meet Lily and Severus. There were kids all dressed in uniform. Someone threw a ball at her and she caught it, just as easily as she would have caught a netball. She threw it back in the same general direction. Lily ran towards her and Petunia lifted her and twirled her around. She missed her piece of cold winter, the chapped skin and the scent of jasmine.

“You look like hell. What kind of crazy shifts are you pulling?” Lily asked holding her sister’s hand and dragging her to Three Broomsticks.

Petunia gave her a tired smile. Her ribs kind of hurt from the tattoo but she cheated and used murtlap essence to make the healing process go faster.

“How is mum?” Severus asked once they got settled in the private room where Severus was already waiting for them.

He did not want to be seen with them and Petunia could respect that, but he also wanted to hear in person how his mother was doing.

“She’s still fighting. Lord and Lady Prince came around earlier this week and offered to pay for the medical bills if I handed over guardianship to them.”

“What did Pa say?”

“I haven’t asked him yet,” Petunia said truthfully, “I’m not going to either unless you say otherwise.”

Severus looked conflicted about what choice to make. It was the same notes of conflict that Petunia had felt on the matter. Between the earning members they did not have the money to do more in terms of healthcare for their loved one but signing over that right meant that they would never be able to see Eileen again.

“No then, we are not signing. If you need anything I can get if off the black market,” Severus said firmly.

Petunia would have liked for the decision to have taken a moment longer, to be a little more difficult to make. They were selfish people, who did not like what the Prince’s had done to Eileen when she decided to get married to Tobias.

“I’ll write the letter then to the Prince’s,” Petunia said firmly ending the matter.

She wished that they were having this conversation under the soft glow of candles in the summer as the sun rose. They seemed to get somewhere when conversations flowed like that. Lily felt more like herself to say something and Severus allowed himself to be vulnerable. Petunia knew that Lily and Severus would never really be friends. He had betrayed the little bit of good Lily saw in him the day he called her a ‘mudblood’. He had also been lucky that the retaliation Lily had chosen was to allow her emotions to softly stir and to vent. Lily could do that, to cut people out of her life without remorse.

She had not said a word since she had seen Severus. Petunia wondered whether Hogwarts was a healthy environment for any of them. There was very little in the way of support and the support it did offer always had House politics involved.

Petunia had only faced House politics as a full-time employee of St Mungos. It was not so prevalent in the potion rooms where she worked. But the rest of the hospital reeked with it. She had to learn quickly what was appropriate and when. It only seemed to get worse to bolder Death Eater attacks become.

“If that’s all then, I just want to know if I should expect you two at home for Christmas. I know Eileen would appreciate it,” Petunia said.

“Of course we are coming home.” It was the first thing Lily had said about Severus. She looked at him keenly daring him to refute her.

Severus would always be weak when it came to Lily, for he remembered that Lily was in his corner almost always. Petunia could not force them to fix the rift between them. She did need them to show up because she was not doing a very good job of keeping their family together.

Chapter Text

The late nights out attested to this. Petunia looked at her watch. It was something her dad had given her, almost as an apology for being found out to be not as loyal. Lily was never really angry that Severus called her a 'mudblood'. It was a term she had come to accept. She was madder their loyalty to each other wasn't enough to keep the differences at bay. She was Muggleborn and that was a title she carried proudly.

"I am not looking after Eileen out of a twisted sense of loyalty. Regardless of what the Prince's tell you. I am looking after Eileen because I know it's what you would have done had you been in the position to provide for the family," Petunia said firmly.

"So is that what we are?" Severus asked.

Lily laughed, the warm winter laugh that meant hot chocolate and biscuits Severus had made.

"Of course we are family. Always because at a moment when everything doesn't seem to go your way family is all we got," Lily said.

"I'll let you two go then. I still have potion ingredients I need to source for the private stock at home," Petunia said. "Don't worry about paying for the room. Odgen owed me a favour."

No one did want to leave, so they spent the day ordering room service and Petunia didn't want to leave. Life inside the room was simply lived because they had a common enemy inside of it. The world outside and they were the young weird trio who had yet not learned to walk with their head up or the kind of power they held with their fingertips.

"Did you really drop out of school?" Lily asked.

It was a question Petunia avoided answering in her letters. Petunia wasn't home enough for Lily to time a Howler to scream at her.

"You can't brew full time at St Mungo's and still go to school," Petunia said. She prepared herself for the lecture and was not disappointed.

"I get that we need the money, but didn't everyone always tell us that money wasn't our responsibility to worry about," Lily pressed.

"And who was going to get a job. Mom? She hasn't worked a day in her life outside the house. You know that."

Severus let out a sound of distress at that. He did love Petunia's mother. Petunia knew she was harsh on her judgement of her own mother. It had been her mother and not Eileen who had kissed away their tears and tried to hide the world's demons from them. When the rest of the adults had decided that they need knowledge Rose was the one who stood firm on the idea of preserving their childhoods.

Eventually Petunia did have to leave. She had to at least sleep a little bit before pulling a night shift at St Mungos. The current time was unusual and it made her nervous and scared. The attacks were increasing in frequency and she kept an eye out for the Daily Prophet hoping that the news she would receive wasn't about someone she knew or a coworker. The smart decision would have been to move her skills to the bank but being at the hospital meant she could get reduced healthcare bills. It helped in the long run especially since she was the only one earning in an actual currency that was useful in the wizarding world. That was the new mantra. To be useful.

If she was useful they would not be able to do without her. She had to be forgettable to let her go and she wasn't. She was Eileen's apprentice and that title brought with it enough scrutiny under most people's eyes. She fell asleep on the sofa with the radio playing quietly in the background. Petunia dreamt a lot and sometimes it was so scary that she would wake up just to get out and cry about it.

Darren had gone to Cokesworth for the day. Petunia desperately wanted a smoke. It wasn't fair to hide from the horrors of the world. Smoking helped with hiding. It mellowed her out and she was getting better at finding the sweet spot between productive and uselessly lethargic.

It was not healthy, if Petunia was at school it wouldn't be an option. But she couldn't go into the potion dungeon smelling like alcohol. They didn't seem to mind smoking though. Smoking was miles better than sleeping with Darren every other night, especially when they did not want a relationship with each other like that anymore.

She knew Darren liked Jean and that like seemed to be reciprocated. She hadn't talked to either of them about it not wanting to but her head into something that wasn't her's to bother with. There was still an hour before her shift and Darren wasn't home yet. He probably wouldn't be home tonight and would just take the first train back in the morning straight to his company class.

Therefore she didn't have to worry about coming back home until later the next day. She could pull a double shift and then take leave the next day to check up on her parents. Petunia liked the idea of that. It had been a while since she had been home and they would need someone around to do some of the odd chores around the house.

The home was in relative terms now and it was heavily dependant on how she was feeling during the day. Sometimes home meant Cokesworth, other moments it was her dorm room with Jean or at the flat with Darren. There were even seconds where a stranger's bed felt like home.

It had felt like forever since the last time she had slept with someone who was interested in a more permanent basis. She kind of wanted that a bed with another person who didn't mind that she left marks on their skin. It was improper to think such thoughts especially since she worked at St Mungo's but it wasn't something that could be helped.

She had barely pulled on a set of robes and some gloved before being moved into specialized brewing for the rest of the night. She had to make in-demand potions as they were demanded in a room where the lunar cycles had runes to control them. Petunia could read and write runes, just as well as the next person who had to work with them. However, it still took time for an option to be created. There was very little space to mess up and the room itself got stuffy and filled with foggy fumes.

Petunia had taken off the blouse she was wearing and just had her protective robes over it. The heat was beginning to feel unbearable. Lord Gaunt walked in and out of the room barking orders the way most healers did. He wanted things done and he wanted them done now.

Lunar cycle runes were difficult to work with and had no room for error. Once they started spiralling the person brewing had no choice but to keep up. They set the timer on the runes and it would stay that way until the cycle had been completed. The ability to do so wasn't taught to everyone. It helped keep the art competitive and she was bound by a code of ethics to not say a word to those outsiders of the system.

When a potion had to rest Petunia would take a smoke, usually while waiting in the hot room. It would be a blessing to not have to think too much about everything. She was brewing a more advanced version of a muscle relaxant, usually used on victims who had survived incredibly dark and painful curses to the nervous system. The Healers could have just as easily cast an imperious curse. However, the government frowned upon the idea and the practice became banned in standard hospital treatment plans.

It didn't make it right though to have a blanket ban on a set of spells. But Petunia wasn't a lawmaker not did she ever want to be one. She tried to calm her mind down. To focus on each task as it presented itself to her. Petunia found her kind wandering though. Her body craving things it really shouldn't.

On her break, which she at standing up, she tried to think of anything she had taken which made her feel the way she did. Tired but too horny to think of much more other than sex. It wasn't unusual for the fumes in certain combinations to alight something familiar that was just beneath the surface.

She got off when Lord Gaunt got off. Both of them clocked out at a similar time and he waited for her as she pulled her hair out of the bun where it was held. She stretched out, the cold nipping air felt glorious after hours of potions. She was actually excited about the run this morning. She and Darren could take a long route and maybe even stay while people were training their dogs.

Petunia didn't bother with a lot of people in the magic world unless she had to. The fear itself was leftover from when she had written that embarrassing letter to Hogwarts about why she deserved to be there, only for the very sympathetic reply to put things into perspective.

She still only had a week or so until Darren's birthday and she still had to think up appropriate gifts for both Lily and Severus. They were turning seventeen and finally would be seen as adults in their world. Her heart ached to think that they were growing up, but she was kind of proud of how they had turned out even if Lily had decided that she didn't need Severus.

Petunia went into the Leaky Cauldron, she had business in Knockturn Alley. Specifically, at the Apothecary, the kind that needed to be done in person and would most likely need her to donate blood to get what she needed. Petunia preferred Knockturn Alley for most things since it's the ability to produce stuff that was limited to what she could pay for most things.

It made her laugh that at least some things stayed the same. Most of it was about money and the way the rich treated those who they thought were under them. She passed Pamona's Apothecary that stood on the edge of the two alleys and took a deep breath before stepping into Knockturn Alley.

Petunia wasn't going to lie and say that she felt comfortable when she wasn't. There were Aurors patrolling in what they thought was discrete material. She had to scoff at that, the seedy underbelly of the British Magical world was smarter than that. The deeper she got into the Alley the less light was allowed to shine. Werewolves and vampires stayed away from this place preferring to leave it to the banshees and seers who had lost their mind.

In the heart of it, all was the Apothecary. A squat building that declared its loyalty to the dark and whose door Petunia refused to touch without gloves on. She was let in as soon as she stroked the rune pattern onto the door. The inside smelled like every other potion store and she nabbed bunches of fresh poppies and went to the front desk to pick out from what was available. She gave the front desk worker the list that Eileen usually used. Certain potions were made only during certain times of the year and now seemed like a good time to start them.

"I assume you'll be paying for this in blood," the front desk attendant said.

He was probably of mixed creature blood. They had very little options for formal employment in most places. The Apothecary was one of the few who took people in regardless of their blood status.

Petunia nodded as she sat down and the person found the vein without much effort. The process was a slow one and unlike St Mungo's there was no sense of sacrifice. This was an exchange, a transaction that meant people in the back alley could continue working and thriving.

Knockturn Alley was not for the rich and as Petunia walked away from it with an armful of poppies she couldn't help but feel happy to think that someday this wouldn't be her normal. The train rides back home just to check up on everything calmed her down a little bit. Truthfully, she didn't know how much more everyone was expecting her to take.

Chapter Text

Petunia woke up at the crack of dawn and pulled on work overalls. The heavy material was identical to the one her dad was wearing. They were short on hands at the factory and since Petunia was back and Ross asked nicely, Petunia had to help. Her mother reminded her that the money would help. Lily was turning seventeen soon along with Severus and the traditional gift of a watch was not cheap. Petunia had seen the watches though, many of her co-workers had one and it was a beautifully useful piece to own.

They deserved it, especially considering how the last couple of years had taken its toll on all of them. Petunia drove in the car with her dad that morning to work and it was not the usual kind. She found the timestamp she had used over the summer and clocked in and out. The factory itself never bothered her because when people didn’t have the factory there would be no work in the area.

What truly bothered her was that the factory was owned by Ross. Ross had no loyalty to people like Petunia. To the little people that were needed. One day the work they did would be redundant and too expensive to justify the costs of making. Then what would they be able to do? They had nothing because, for a lot of people who lived here, this and the church was all they knew.

The factory was back-breaking work and Petunia spent more time moving than she ever had in a potion dungeon. Ross had begged her to come in, by even offering to pay her at the end of every day. He was desperate and as much as he didn’t like Tobias, Tobias was one of the few people who had the patience to keep their very outdated machinery running.

So Petunia stayed for Tobias and to try to make what seemed like a really sad situation better. Petunia hadn’t felt like she had been paying much attention to the people around her. She was too off her game and she was losing a little. Every battle felt like too much and every other moment drove her insane. Henry was the only one who seemed to be acting anything like an adult as much as Petunia loathed to admit it.

She could not make the situation into something it wasn’t. They, as a collective, we're not doing well. Letters that passed between each member said very little. Everyone was worried about something. More worried that they had been. Eileen was dying a slow, painful death and when Petunia reviewed the treatment plan with the healer she felt stressed about it. There was seemingly no sunshine in this story, just a never-ending trip down the road of sadness.

Rose has taught Petunia to look at the positives when things hurt. The positives were a simple thing like there was food on the table, her favourite jam was in the fridge and her sister sent her a letter. It didn’t feel ok though and Petunia found herself taking an extra day off work to try and help get the factory machinery running. It was an exercise in futility. Ross was there working with the rest of them and only when Tobias had said, they needed a specialist, had they given up.

The men went to the pub after that and Petunia went home. Clara was there with the baby, it was a women’s church meeting. They all gave her weak, pitiful smiles that made Mrs. Evans smiles weaker. Rose did not do pity, regardless of who gave it out.

“Shower and come down, we were just about to finish up,” her mother said. Petunia nodded and obediently went to go have a bath.

She heard the soft voices croon over the baby. She was happy for Clara, the baby did look beautiful and if he was anything like either of his parents he would grow up to be beautiful.

Petunia showered and pulled on a white blouse and dark, navy slack. Clara walked in, her eyes immediately zoomed into the tattoo that stretched on Petunia’s side. It was visible through the thin blouse material.

“What have you done?” Clara asked horrified.

“It’s nothing big,” Petunia shrugged it off.

“What do you mean it’s nothing big, why do you Petunia Rose have a tattoo on your ribs? I thought going to London would tame that wild side of you.” Petunia had to smile Clara did sound like her mom, all hyped up and insanely nervous about what seemed to be a bad life decision.

“It’s not that bad. I did daffodils for you, I know they are your favourite flowers,” Petunia offered shyly.

She did, she had a flower for anyone who made any significant effect on her. People who touched her with their fingers or wanted something more and stronger for her.

“God, Petunia, I let you go out into the world and this is how it returns you to me,” Clara seemed to whisper thoughts she knew her mother had about everything that was going on.

Petunia shrugged and pulled a cardigan over the blouse, making sure her ribs couldn’t be seen through it.

“Let’s go downstairs, I want to see the baby,” Petunia said, taking Clara by the hand.

The church was something that made Petunia feel at home. It was just the patterns, that and Eileen had been a more critical Sunday school teacher that encouraged a lot of her students to think deeply about the lessons they were being taught.

“Do you think you will be able to help out with the Sunday School Christmas play this year?” Clara asked, her eyes begging Petunia to say yes. It was weird to see Clara like this, mothering and almost nurturing to the little boy on her lap who seemed excited about the pearls on Clara’s neck.

Petunia did not want to know the kind of pressure Clara was under. She had to now be a good wife to a community leader, at least to the public. Petunia cruelly wondered how long it would take Ross to cheat on her. It was one of those cruel things that seemed almost inevitable.

“I can’t really, I don’t know if I’m going to get any time off of work,” Petunia said. “But if I am around I promise to pop by.”

She was promising within her limits. She kept a smile on her face even when it seemed to hurt to do so. She kissed her mother on the top of the head after everyone left and did the dishes. It seemed only fair.

”Have you met a nice boy yet?” Rose asked her oldest.

Petunia stiffened at the question. Her parents knew she was living with Darren. She had never hidden that from them knowing that it wasn't something she wanted to lie about. To a certain extent, Darren was a good man, she would not have his reputation tarnished by a rumour.

”Darren is seeing someone else and my job keeps me too busy even to go out, ” Petunia said, watching her mother cook.

There was not much going into supper today, just the usual two vegetables, chicken and potatoes. Her mother seemed to not be high but with Rose, Petunia could never tell. Her mother was good at hiding, it’s what made her a brilliant wife and mother.

”I know, I just want some grandkids. You know I’m not getting younger, ” Rose said.

She popped open a bottle of dry wine and offered a glass to Petunia. Petunia declined, she did have to leave early the next morning. Her mother had been around her age when she had gotten married, it was something that didn’t sit well with Petunia. She knew the kind of people in their town who married this young and it made her uncomfortable to think about it.

“Lily and Severus said they are going to come down for Christmas, I managed to get them away from the staying and studying,” Rose said. “I want you to be here too if you can get time off.”

Petunia nodded and went to set the table as her dad came in. He wasn’t smelling like anything, in particular, an for the moment played into an illusion as if he had never cheated on their mom in the first place.

They said grace and sat down to eat in silence. Petunia then quietly informed them that she had to get down to the Snapes to finish up brewing. Her mother insisted that if she was going then she should take a plate of food.

Petunia drove there with the rest of her stuff. She needed to leave early in the morning and the Snape property was closer to the train station. Mr. Snape also was less spooked out by owls as they swooped in and out without much care other than their tasks.

Petunia let herself into the house and finished the last round of potions. The poppies she had were probably going to reach the end of their useful life if she didn’t attempt to start working with them now. She cleaned every surface in the kitchen and began the labour intensive process.

Creating something like this was time-consuming and took a lot of active hours of working. The low heat along with the crushing arm movements caused Petunia to sweat. Eileen hadn’t left very many notes on it which was not like her. The notes she did leave were to the point and warned the potioneer about the risks of trying it.

Petunia hadn’t started with much, to begin with, and when she was done, she took a strip of parchment paper and wrapped the now cooled piece in poppy petals first before putting it in her pocket.

She cleaned the kitchen once again making sure to leave no trace. Then she made breakfast before leaving. Tobias had the day off so he would also be coming to St Mungo’s later in the day.

Eileen being in the hospital had been hard on him. His face was lined deeply with worry and sometimes he couldn’t even bring himself to see her at the hospital asleep. Petunia understood this because it seemed like no matter what the healers did there was still no cure for it. At the risk of not further angering her family, Eileen had put her foot down at exploring muggle means for a cure.

At this point, they had all decided that managing the symptoms was best. Petunia didn’t feel very good about this. The more she lived and worked at St Mungo’s the less happy she was about the diagnoses. There was very little time where the entire healer staff would just give up like the way they had on Eileen’s case. There was something that Eileen wasn’t telling them.

The walk to work was the same as it usually was. Petunia could feel her shoulders tighten as she got closer to the building. The walls of St Mungo’s today felt a little more familiar than the walls of her apartment.

She took out the envelope of opium and place it on Lord Gaunt’s desk. She didn’t trust anyone else with it. Potion makers were not known to be the soberest bunch. Hell, if they were sober for more than a week a lot of them considered it a victory.

“It should be wizarding strength and it’s only a couple of grams,’ Petunia said. “I don’t want to know what you plan to do with it.”

Lord Gaunt very rarely looked shocked at most things. He raised her eyebrow and Petunia walked away before she was dismissed. She didn’t want to know what it was for. There was a certain sense of calmness that surrounded her now that she knew that the task was complete. It had been bugging her, also she would never forgive herself had she been the one who put Eileen in more pain than necessary.

Chapter Text

Darren had the distinct privilege of being born close to December, usually when the first snow hit the ground. He had had Ross pull some strings for Petunia to go back to school to at least finish her last set of exams. Petunia had wanted to be angry at him for the decision but took it as an apology and hugged the crap out of him.

When she wasn’t working or running back to Cokesworth, Petunia was pulling her hair over chemistry equations and maths problems. In a way, it was pleasant to look forward to something normal. Charles also had gotten her work card linked as a formal Portkey so she could at least go write her tests and exams without stressing about making it to work in time.

The first round of exams for the year had gone by and Jean moved into the flat for the most part. Petunia could see that Jean and Darren were thinking about making their relationship official. Petunia had loved for both of them, they both made her happy.

Happiness was hard to come by especially during this time. The letters were not encouraging, neither were the people in the hospital. Sometimes they had muggle family’s come in, it was then that Petunia felt the most vulnerable. It was Petunia that delivered potions to them and sat with families. Sometimes with the religious ones, she held hands and prayed with them. To a god that the people around her did not believe in.

Sometimes the diagnoses were quick and easy, things she had picked up with working in the hospital and at other moments weeks of work would end in death. Overwhelmed, Petunia felt really overwhelmed, she had tried to stop smoking for fear that the addiction would mess up her hands. She really couldn’t quit, not when it was the only thing blanking her mind and keeping her focused.

They had reconfigured the stations and Petunia moved up in the process of making a potion. She got more complicated potions and it made her incredibly frustrated about how long it took to get things done. She had half a mind to start brewing out of the flat, but it was too dangerous. She wasn’t going to the people she loved in danger. The money earned wasn’t worth it.

The last shift for the week had her shivering at the thought of the potions she was required to make. The list presented itself always at the beginning of the shift. Most of them were going to the Dark Arts Damage ward. She took off her coat and put on a new set of hospital laundered potion robes. The potion black looked sombre in contrast to the brightly coloured jumper underneath it.

She had promised Darren that they would go out tonight, the three of them as an apology for missing his birthday. Darren loved his birthday and he was dancing:” The Rite of Spring”. The music played in constant repetition around their flat and had Petunia doing a lot more active fitness with Darren.

The ballet kept him constantly ready to throw up and sometimes when he came home from work, that was what he would do, throw up and then slowly drink soup that Petunia prepared to ease himself. The cycle of the dance would start all over again. The ballet was not one of Petunia’s favourites though, she preferred” Bolero” by far as the dance on the table had a slightly raw undertone to it. In comparison, the “Rite of Spring’ looked too easy. It was that effortless charm, Darren managed to achieve in his last few run-throughs in the flat.

Even then tonight was a night out and they needed it. Petunia needed it. Eileen should be ok, there were no drastic changes and as long as they didn’t get slammed with patients t the hospital who needed potions, Petunia was sure that she would be able to leave on time. It would be fun, she and Jean would watch the ballet and then judge Darren heavily. Then they would munch on whatever street food they could find probably in a corner shop where Jean would know the person.

It was that kind of life that Petunia wanted to live all the time. Still, work was work. It put food on the table and made life easier for them all financially. It was only going to be for a year and a bit more. It was a little bit daunting to think about a life without St Mungos but she would be glad to leave it. It shouldn’t have felt ominous when she changed out of her potion robes and said goodbye to everyone for the day. She went to check on Eileen last and made sure that the potions and treatments that she needed were coming at the right time.

She did not drop by the Spell Damage Ward. Selfishly she knew that she could help, that someone might need the help but it was not in her to be that person. Tobias would be around too and sometimes when he couldn’t stand sitting alone in the silence of Eileen’s room he would visit those families.

Petunia took a deep breath and breathed the crisp air that was turning into winter. Her favourite season. All that was unnecessary would die by a trial of the burning snow. It would be Christmas, New Year and then Lily’s birthday. Lily would be an adult in name and Petunia was proud of her for coming this far, her cyclone.

Petunia thought too loudly and didn’t notice that she had already made it to the flat where Jean was pulling her hair into a white-approved hair-style, it was less hassle for Jean when she looked like the world’s standard of beauty. Petunia just focused on getting clean, she rolled her eyes in disgust at the dirty water that oozed down her. “Like your blood,” the treacherous voice in her head murmured. It was official Petunia was spending too much time at the hospital and it was eating at her sanity.

Nice bra, nice underwear, stockings (sheer), a skirt slightly too short to be decent. A button-up blouse that could do with a little less button when going out. Hair brushed and sprayed down to look sleek. Petunia looked at herself critically in the mirror. Today was lipstick and mascara kind of day. Nice coat, a small purse that held lighter, cigarettes, lipstick and a flask of the whiskey Darren really enjoyed.

They lived close to the theatre and it was a short walk away. They handed their coats by the door and moved with purpose like the rest of the patrons. They never got prime seats when Petunia booked but unlike her, Darren knew what he was doing. Heavens, Darren was a beautiful dancer.

Darren was serious, his movements, sharp and crisp. The make-up he plastered on his face made him look fierce and athletic. Both Jean and Petunia never failed to comment on how Darren forced people to watch him. He drew their eyes in and forced them to stay as he dances. Petunia knew the parts he struggled with, it was those that he would repeat over and over again without mercy to his muscles. It paid off, a muscle didn’t quiver unless he ordered it too. The choice of the piece was unusual for this time of year, spring was still a while away, but the movement made her feel so hopeful. She could do with a little bit of hope. The program lasted two hours, Petunia politely applauded when required and tried to stop herself from commentating snarkily at the corps. Jean did the same but they did find a quiet place to laugh as they in true juvenile fashion made fun of the costumes.

They waited back at the door for Darren to come out with the rest of the company. Darren did not celebrate small and he warned them of that. Jean had rolled her eyes, he didn’t need to warn them but the warning was nice. Ballet dancers all kind of looked the same. They didn’t walk with slouched backs and movements usually carried a tension with them. Darren once said that it was because they were in constant pain. That was kind of true, Darren really did scream in pain if they poked him wrong.

They were all stupidly stupid and Petunia just ran along with the feelings. She drank a lot more than unusual, danced with Jean and then made Jean dance with Darren, to rock and metal that they never really played in the flat. Sometimes Petunia would dance with a random person from Darren’s company and at other times she would find someone to kiss in dark corners.

They walked home, drunk, happy and dropping people off before they got too rowdy. They were nearly home when the Portkey to the hospital burned Petunia. A warning that the Portkey would activate in a minute.

Petunia waved Jean and Darren off ignoring their concern and said that she had forgotten something at work. She sobered up quickly and found a dark alley. The Portkey jerked her navel and then spat her out into the front atrium of St Mungo’s.

The front desk was in full emergency mode. “Petunia Evans, Apothecary, Emergency Summons.”

“Muggles have come in, your age and dressed like you, actually,” the mediwizard at the front. “Report to Dark Magic.”

She scanned her work card into the potion station for the Dark Magic department. The list of potions was there in front of her just like it was a normal workday. She had seen faces as she ran past the different rooms. Faces she had gone clubbing with only an hour ago. She tried to think of all the drugs and alcohol they could have possibly consumed. It was the usual stuff, she hadn’t even seen vails of Death Wish being passed around, but she hadn’t at all been aware at the clubs they had gone too. Petunia closed her eyes and thought hard about what she had seen.

She could hear Eileen berate her about how her form of thinking was not scientific at all. Petunia wondered what happened to bring all of them there. It would be made more clear in the meeting in the morning. The steam fogged the room up and if Petunia was brewing a poison she would have worried about what it was doing to her lungs.

It made zero sense for her to be called in though, even if the cases they were dealing with within the department were mostly on muggles. There was a magical route to this, Petunia just wished the DMLE worked harder to find out what it was. The runestone that Petunia had activated on arrival kept spinning. To compress a potion that took a lunar cycle to make meant that literally every second counted.

They were a few things that came to Petunia like second nature. The first was netball, the second: machines and third (uncomfortably) potions.

Potions out of all three had put her through the most trauma. For every happy memory she had about potions it seemed like she could bring up three incredibly miserable ones. She tried to keep her emotions quiet. The morning meeting would have to reveal more.

Chapter Text

The day could not get any worse. Then it did. Eileen died that afternoon, just after the long morning meeting had ended. Petunia stood in the corner of the room and watched healers try for a whole hour to bring her back. They could not, Petunia didn't cry at work. That was the rule her father had taught her.

Eileen died and plunged her world into black. Then the white shroud wrapped itself around her and they took her body to the mortuary. Petunia held Eileen's hand and felt her body get cold. She walked to the potion dungeon only to find that they had given her the rest of the day off.

Charles had told her to go mourn and he had taken it upon himself to inform everyone. Petunia sat in the bath and the blistering water-cooled onto her skin until it felt like ice. She found herself getting changed and then not knowing at all what to do. She found herself breaking the rules she set up for the flat.

She lifted the pewter cauldron from her room and set the gas stove on. The stone got warm and Petunia brewed. She brewed sad things, poisons and foul-tasting concoctions. Without realizing it she moved to medical-grade stoppers to Death. Her time at St Mungo's better at potions, more efficient, less wasteful and incredibly focused on the idea of stability. She could tell from the smells each one was perfect and she sent it away to Lord Guant's office specifically, he would know what they meant.

Petunia cleaned every inch of the flat and Darren still was not back at home. This kind of energy was destructive. She didn't call home and the frantic knocks to her flat door after what seemed like hours forced her to think. Petunia ignored it, so Lily let herself in and had dragged Severus in with her.

Lily had grown up during the time away and Severus looked just as lost. He looked like he did when he was younger and Petunia snapped out of her grief enough to want to hug him.

"You need to get dressed into clean dress robes, we are going to Mrs Snape's funeral," Lily said firmly.

"And Mr Snape?" Petunia asked.

"He's going to get here in an hour and then we portkey to the Prince Property. We show a united front the way Mrs Snape would have wanted."

It seemed as if Lily grew up as Petunia blinked. Fuck, she was glad to have Lily here in person smelling like jasmine and as cold as the weather outside.

"I have robes in my closet. Two pairs of black ones, they should fit the two of you. You can't go to the funeral in your school robes. I'll make tea, then we leave."

Tobias came half an hour later. He was wearing his nicest Sunday suit and he looked lost. His eyes held anger and grief. He hugged each child though and quietly thanked Petunia for covering all the medical bills over the last few months.

Petunia wrote a note to Darren and locked the door. She wore heeled boots and let her hair loose as was customary. Lily had done the same after scrounging an appropriate outfit from Petunia's clothes.

The house was were Eileen grew up was nicer than the nicest part of Cokesworth. They had all been aware that Eileen had been rich, but this level of wealth felt uncomfortable to them. The current Lord Prince stood at the gates as they entered the estate.

"The apprentice, the son and the husband. I assume we can now begin building the pyre, " Lord Prince said.

Although during her time at St Mungo's Petunia had been surrounded by death she wasn't too familiar with the customs surrounding wizard funerals. The Prince's were an old family so their rituals could greatly differ from the average wizard.

Lord Prince lead them to the clearing where the attendants had already started coming it. Petunia took one look at the body as it lay under a gazebo and she bit her lip to stop the crying. She could sense that Lily wanted to hold her hand or cry on her chest. It was already a cold day, but Lily's magic crackled its familiar crackle and snow began to fall.

"She would have liked it, " Lily said firmly. "Lord Prince let's begin to build the pyre, shall we."

Severus looked at the Evans' girls. If he didn't know any better he would have assumed that they were a pair of pureblood girls at the age where marriage contracts would start to flood in. They could have been having they both been born under better circumstances. He watched and mechanically followed Petunia as she began to build the pyre with Lord Prince and his father. Tobias had not said a word to him apart from giving the girls a brief hug.

Tobias cannot bring himself to build the "thing" that will engulf his wife with flames. It is there that Lily is most helpful. She hasn't gone to church unless she is forced to but years of magical education cannot erode the muggle hymns that Eileen had taught her at Sunday School when she did go. Lily hums them quietly and keeps her eyes on the weather. Petunia would reprimand her when they got home. Playing around with weather magic was frowned upon in many places where polite society existed.

Her sister often forgot that Cokesworth and the street they grew up on was the antithesis of polite society. Lily was not obligated to act like Narcissa or even Alice, because she came from the rough side of the tracks where their level of poverty had required them to work for every little luxury they possessed. Tobias deserved comfort and today, Lily would take the place of a daughter he never had to provide that comfort to him.

Petunia, on the other hand, as the finished building the pyre, stepped back to that Lord Prince could seal it. The spell flashed grey and Petunia took out her ceremonial knife from the pocket of her robes and a gallon.

"Her passage into the arms of Death and her fee paid for by her apprentice, " Petunia said. The words activated the first part of the ritual and she began carving the runes as Severus put the body down onto the pyre. Severus was stiff and she wouldn't embarrass him by holding him, not here.

Lord Prince pried open his sister's fingers and inserted the gallon into her hand. The ritual itself was dark, it came off a dark origin. Somehow it all seemed fitting and as Severus lit the pyre, Petunia grabbed Lily's other hand. The moment of weakness was ok, it would be fine, they would go back home and there she would cry because at that point no one needed her to be strong.

Lily quit faking strong as the flames grew higher. She turned around and hugged tightly into Petunia without letting go of Tobias' hand. Lily trembled and took deep, jagged breathes. She was beautiful when she cried, Petunia could help but notice. The snow came down harder and they welcomed the cold and the wind. The weather got worse and many of the pure-bloods who had come to watch the funeral quietly paid their respects around the family.

There comes a time when Magic couldn't heal things, where science had no answers and religion taught that they had to believe in something bigger than themselves. The simple answer to that for Petunia had been that Eileen and the parents had been her reason to keep holding on to try harder and be better at what she was doing. She had been promoted all the way to a division brewer and it was her with her dirty blood that had done that.

Without Eileen, Petunia didn't really know who she was doing this 'life' thing for. The knife weight heavily in her pocket and she kind of knew what she was supposed to be doing. The best-laid plans usually came crashing down at the face of adversary. Death couldn't be simplified to just "adversary" though. They left as the embers died down and all that was left was fine ash. Lord Prince collected and deposited the ashes into an urn. A small vail of it was given to Severus. Severus was her son after all. Petunia would fetch Eileen's jewellery from the hospital after forty-eight hours and the autopsy report. They deserved to know. What happened and how it happened. The last little bit of light faded away as Tobias decided to leave. He gave them all a sharp look, Petunia and Lily followed without question.

They were in the outside world. Severus wouldn't accept her hugs now, but he would tomorrow. When Petunia had plied Lily with enough tea to stop the blistering snow and they left Tobias to fester in his own emotions.

Still Petunia could not shake the never-ending stream of sadness that seemed to envelop them. The death while not sudden was still something that had to be mourned. The church service, memorial and an endless stream of people in and out of Spinner's End over the next few days were taxing. Severus hadn't shed a single tear and the weather was terrible on account for Lily's mood.

"Reign it in, Evans," Petunia said quietly as they prepared tea in the kitchen together. They had hidden the potions and anything magical related and shoved it into one of Petunia's old suitcases.

"Sure thing, could you put another log into the fire, I have a feeling that the weather is about to get worse." Lily was not being cheeky or defiant, if Lily said it would get worse then it surely would.

Severus had decided to go back to school after the funeral at the church. He said that he was done. Mrs Evans had been the one to put her foot down. He would stay in Petunia's room if he needed a bedroom but there was no way that he was going to go back without at least attempting to be there for his father. So that's what he did, attempted to be there while dreaming of something else entirely.

Darren had come by, he held Jean's hand and there was a ring on it. Petunia, the Petunia of before, would have been jealous. This was a win though, this ring on her hand and her two best friends who had nothing in common apart from her were together. She bathed in happiness. They could all afford a small win even in the face of misery.

Chapter Text

“Master Potter, I’m giving in my two weeks notice,” Petunia said, dropping the envelope on his desk.

It was just after Christmas. The hospital's attempts to be festive just let Petunia know how desperate everyone was feeling. This time Charles said nothing but nodded. He knew that Petunia would leave after the last of Eileen’s expenses to the hospital was paid off. There was no reason to let go of her and Petunia had taken that decision out of her hands by leaving on her terms.

Charles wanted to ask her how she was doing and if she needed help over the next couple of days. Eileen had raised a proud pupil and someone with the potential to be a potion master, had she put the effort into it. Instead, he looked at a girl and wondered if she felt ok with the rate she had to grow up at.

He knew the news better than anyone and watched as she ground her teeth in frustration in front of Lord Gaunt’s office demanding the autopsy report. One thing was certain, he knew everyone in their little potion sphere was glad that she had not been born wizard, because had she, none of their own apprentices would have never stood a chance at any advancement in their field.

Petunia knew what bitter unhappiness tasted like. In a moment of absolute desperation, she had contemplated breaking into the cellar where all the records were kept. Without authorization though, the door was taught to curse those who even touched its frame. She could have whined at how unfair it was, but then she hadn’t taken the time to mourn at all. Her debt to Eileen was paid off and because of that, Petunia felt it was time she sook employment in the muggle world. That way she would stop lying to Darren about what her job entailed and she could get herself out of whatever evil was boiling in the world of magic.

It had taken the last of her energy to convince Lily to leave as well. Lily was stubborn and brave. She had no patience for anything and that included people who told her that she couldn’t do things. Petunia was scared as it was only a few days before Lily would turn seventeen. At seventeen they would have no say in her life and for the purposes of the community she wanted to live in, she would be an adult.

The murmurs were there in the hospital walls about a resistance. Petunia knew her sister enough to know that this was something that she would be interested in it. That prompted Petunia to set up the next stage of her life. She had to be established enough to pull Lily to the side of normal and unassuming. Petunia was not about to cripple her sister while doing so.

When people said that magic came to them as easily as breathing. She found herself wondering if they could change the weather or the emotions of the person around them. When the purebloods at St Mungo’s said so, what they meant was that they couldn’t imagine a life where a flick of a wand wasn’t a solution to their problems.

They had brought in someone new who Petunia would train to take her place. Bartimus Crouch Junior tried to intimidate Petunia on his first day. She spiked his lunch and had contemplated efficiently putting him to sleep for the next few hours of their shift together. He was only standing here because of Slughorn and his father.

The act itself was juvenile and Lord Gaunt was the one who reprimanded her. He had an interest in the boy and Petunia frankly could not care. She did not have time to look after little boys who had no idea what it took to be recognized as a muggle brewer. Petunia had told Crouch that much. She would be given the respect of a mentor and if Crouch wanted someone else to teach him the basics, she would be more than happy to immediately fail him. Rotation healer students always had this arrogance to them that Petunia, along with every other routine brewer, liked to kill within the first day.

She wasn’t feeling very generous or kind to Crouch, he was a pathetic brewer from his first set of results. A simple boil cure, too light to be of any use.

“You have massive wastage and an unusable potion,” Petunia said pointing to scraps on the board which he was working on.

Eileen would have had a fit of epic proportions if she found out that they wasted this many ingredients. Petunia was never a teacher, Eileen wasn’t one either. That fell on Tobias’ shoulder. He was the one who taught her how to study and the systematic approach to work and solving a problem. There were systems in place for all of them growing up and between the four parents they somehow managed to make it work.

Petunia neutralised the potion before throwing it down the drain.

“Try again,” she said putting out the exact amount of ingredients in front of him. “There should be enough on there for a Boil Cure and Headache Reliever. You may begin.”

Crouch did not look pleased with her but did what she said. She was making the same combination of potions as he was. People learn from experience and their experience tended to govern most of what they did. Eileen had said that to her just before she gave up on something because of someone.

“Watch carefully,” Petunia took out a paring knife and began peeling roots to reveal fleshy insides. There were little tricks that had been so hard to master at first and while Petunia wouldn’t consider herself a master, she was certainly good. “Every potion that comes out of cauldron needs to be consistent. One version can’t be strong only for the next to be weak.”

She didn’t look up to check on Crouch, he was old enough to know that he had to be following her. The standard potion book that Hogwarts used hadn’t changed much and anyone who was standing here knew how to brew every one of the potions in that book. Her insides felt like mush when she thought about it, the way Eileen had taught her to brew potions without thinking for a second she would be terrible at it. Eileen had good instincts.

She used every last usable bit of scraps from the board and at the end, two perfect batch-made potions were ladled into vails. Crouch’s looked at least closer in colour and he didn’t dare vail it without Petunia’s permission. She smiled to herself as she saw he had improved drastically.

“We try again tomorrow, the potion isn’t really fit for human consumption but it is still better than your previous attempts,” Petunia said, taking a tiny sip of it. The basics were there but it wouldn’t have had much effect.

“What is wrong with it,” Crouch sounded frustrated.

The words sounded like an order and Petunia ignored the tone. He looked like he was willing to listen. Petunia tried to think of an analogy, something to soften the blow of not being good enough. Few people who make potions at this capacity are good enough to deliver something that was usable every time.

“Your mind wanders, it’s like you don’t want to be here. Which is fine, truly, this isn’t a fun place to be. But you do have all these potions bubbling around you and you need to take it into account even when brewing simple things,” Petunia started. This was one of the first lectures she had gotten from Odgen. “You aren’t in your own bubble and the people around you usually aren’t brewing the same things. So the fumes and sometimes even ingredients react with each other weirdly when in close proximity. Textbook wise the potion was perfect but considering you failed to make adjustments for your environment a few of the ingredients reacted in ways you didn’t really plan for.”

“How do I get better?” the question was earnest, in a way that made Petunia feel uncomfortable.

“Quality versus quantity at the beginning. The faster you grasp it, the less your error margin, the more complex potions you get to make.”

Petunia had never said that aloud to anyone else before. It was how she had gotten good at potions and brewing the Prince’s Promise had taught her that. The easiness that existed when things are going your way.

Petunia checked the time on her watch, she still had a shift at the Pediatric ward as their brewer on call.

“Charles should be able to help you, I have to be somewhere else,” Petunia packed up her station for the next person. She took her hair out of the bun it was in at the door to let her head breathe until she had to put it back up for the next shift.

The walk took her right past the room Eileen used to stay. Petunia just wrapped her hands around herself and tried to close her eyes as she walked past the room. She wanted the grieving to be over.

Not that it would be over, Petunia still had to fetch Eileen’s jewellery from storage. There were seventeenth presents to purchase and wedding bands to etch with protective ruins for Darren and Jean. Just three things on a list and then she could give herself permission to forget the pain. Petunia was naïve at how long it took to get over emotions that could drive most men crazy.

None of her co-workers, magical or otherwise, believed her when she said she was ok. The workers in the factory kept bringing casseroles over for her to give Tobias. He had not stopped drinking and Severus pulled Petunia aside and told her that he was not coming back if he could help it.

It shouldn’t have surprised Petunia that all she wanted right now was to be small and the ingredients around her tempted her enough, but even if she had two weeks to go she couldn’t afford to lose her job. Not when it was the biggest portion of her income until Ross could get her a position at Grunnings, as a favour from one of his friends. Ross certainly was a helpful person to have around when he wanted to be.

Her mind was screaming at her to break down and from past experience, Petunia knew it wasn’t the wise choice. None of her friends would be able to go out with her as they had their own exams coming around. Still, she was way passed the point where she could outrun the things that made her sad.

Sad Petunia was the kind of girl who went home with random people and did way too many hard drugs. It was a cycle that spun around irresponsibly and she had only done it once before. When Eileen's condition was first declared serious, just before she had started working had St Mungo’s, she had gone on a bender without care of consequence.

Petunia didn’t talk about what she did that weekend. Only that they found her surrounded by people who were just as lost as she was. She could feel the need to go on one of those again. A night when Darren was too tired to do anything but sleep and then she could go out, dance and die, just for one irresponsible night.

Chapter Text

Petunia didn't like children and sometimes that made the pediatric ward worse than usual to be in. Most of the potions that came this side weren't for terminal reasons at all however there was always a slightly more senior potioneer who run the dispensary in the ward.

For one thing, the ward tried to exemplify light and all the goodness that seemed to come from it. The ward was run by Healer Tonks, who pulled her dark brown ringlets tightly against her head and didn't take nonsense from anyone but tried to make time to listen to even the tiniest toddler babble about how icky a potion had tasted.

Petunia hoped the shift was a quiet one and that no one needed anything made on the fly. She was cleared to come back to work but even that wasn't enough to keep the worries from swelling back up. Things always got worse before they got better and right now Petunia needed to cry and scream. She needed to treat herself recklessly and then stumble home early in the morning.

"Pull yourself together Evans, " Petunia hissed to herself.

Petunia shouldn't have demanded that from herself so soon. Part of the pediatric shift was preparing bottles of formula each with specific set of nutrients and potions. They liked to get the children to drink the stuff first before attempting lines or injecting things.

The Kitchens popped food trays on a trolley and she would measure and mix portions into just made baby formula or into juice if possible. The rest the junior healers would struggle and bribe with to pour down the throats of children. Petunia didn't like children all that much. She wasn't mothering and didn't think she would make a good mother. She really didn't have the best people to look up to in that regard.

It was Damocles Belby that stopped her from clocking out early the next morning. Petunia didn't really know what to make of Belby during the time they had been working on the Prince's Promise. He was nice and was the apprentice that Odgen had brought around. She stared at him, the Potion Master symbol on his black potion robes said enough, he was the first of the apprentices to make it in the world out there.

He promised her breakfast at the Cafeteria and Petunia didn't have it in her to refuse. There would be a reason for the conversation and as long as he didn't offer condolences for something that he did not do then she would be fine.

She had a tea in front of her and added tonnes of sugar and cream to it.

"Congratulations on finishing your mastery," Petunia meant the words.

"It was a long painful process," he moaned.

Petunia laughed at that, sometimes it took years to be recognized by the guild and each master had a different set of standards that they used to deem a pupil worthy of pursuing a Mastery.

"So let's hear about the potion?"

There was a genuine interest in it, new potions were not created often but Belby had really good ideas when it came to thinking up solutions to a problem.

"It's a truth serum actually. Undetectable and colourless. The Ministry funded it and it got me my mastery."

"You're the creator behind Veritaserum. The entire method of the potion is insane and it's ten years before you release the recipe. When did you get the time for that?" Petunia asked in wonder.

"It's really no big deal. I mean compared to your ability to dissect a potion into it's essential processes is something I need."

"You know I'm leaving all this for good. Once Mrs Snape left, there was just no reason for me to be here anymore." Petunia felt tired again for explaining this. She just wanted out, she wanted to go back to machines and people who were like her. Every week she spent in the wizarding world was just another week she put the people around her in danger.

"I'm trying to tame the beast and I can't do it alone," he whispered.

"Tame the beast?" Petunia asked.

"Werewolves."

Now Petunia didn't know much about werewolves, other than they were poorer than the Snapes on any given occasion and that Knockturn Alley held a pack. Standard, normal things that Petunia shouldn't have known. The whole idea was too interesting not to ask questions on.

"What do I get out of being your assistant?"

"An opportunity to change history."

That was how Petunia found herself loading her life out of the flat that she and Darren had shared. Ross had just managed to get her work at the Grunnings plant and she would move in with Belby onto his property. Purebloods owned so much property she quickly came to realise through her trips to the Belby property.

Her room was larger than any room she had lived in before. The potion dungeon about the same size as a well-stocked research dungeon at St Mungo's. They had to carve some space out for her bike so she could commute to work and be back straight after her shift.

She insisted to Darren that she was moving to give him and Jean space. Jean didn't want it and told her as much as Petunia took out her braids one early spring day. It was the last interview of the season that Jean had to take for dentistry school.

Darren hadn't been a lot of help, but he had his own things to worry about. He wanted to get to a point where he could support both himself and Jean on a dancer's salary and that usually took a few more promotions.

Jean had met Darren's parents and she hadn't liked them very much. Darren had confided in Petunia that he felt the same about Jean's dad and uncle. It really didn't matter though because they loved each other deeply and without any regrets. Theirs was the kind of love poets wrote about, love in the tiny moments. Between moving Petunia found herself taking Jean to University interviews. Jean hated going through them alone and Petunia liked feeling like she was useful.

Sometimes they would go for ice-cream afterwards or Petunia would play netball with a bunch of girls at random courts that they found. It was in those little moments that Petunia was grateful for the normal bits in her life. This was the part she wanted to protect and not share with the rest of the world. The wizarding world had such a narrow view of muggles. It didn't matter how many times Petunia had to explain to her coworkers that as muggles they had other things to worry about. As long as wizards stayed on their own paths, muggles would do the same.

Who was she kidding? They were both humans and humans we're terrible at minding their own business. It's just because they felt so angry with them. Petunia knew that her anger sometimes featured without reason and it made her make questionable decisions.

Almost too soon her last day at St Mungo's drew to an end. Petunia cleaned out her cubby and stuffed odds and ends into her bag. She was sad to be leaving. Winter would end soon and spring would take its place. Jean and Darren would get married. Petunia and Jean would write their last exams and Lily would finish Hogwarts for the year.

Petunia had not heard from Severus during after the winter holidays. She still made the effort to send both Lily and Severus care boxes for their birthdays. She had barely scrapped the money required for a new watch for Severus (the wizardkind with the astronomy based time tracker). Lily had gotten a lily on a chain with as many protection runes that Petunia could buy from the jeweller. Neither Tobias nor her parents had said anything about the birthdays so Petunia had done her best to make sure they at least felt loved even from afar.

The brewers who had gone off shift with Petunia insisted that they visit a pub and Petunia did not have a good enough reason to refuse. She didn't and followed the odd bunch to a pub they all liked. Any reason to drink was a reason good enough for people who worked in potions.

Petunia just ordered tea. She was supposed to be celebrating but all she felt was this overwhelming sensation that she was making all the wrong steps in a series of moves. It wasn't like normal. Usually, she'd be able to forget most of it, but it wasn't helping. Fuck, if Lily was here she would take Petunia outside and force her to breathe bit Petunia couldn't find anything that was grounding her to the world at the moment.

Before it got too bad she said her last good buys and dropped her bags at Darren's flat. She ignored the ballet tickets and washed her face trying to force herself to calm down or cry. Two options and neither of them felt right. Her hands shook as she changed her clothing and laced up trainers for a run.

To the park and back, she told herself. They would run a short run and she may feel better. It didn't and Petunia dare not call Jean. Jean was studying for her final exam and it wasn't fair to dump this on her. Darren had already left for work and there was nothing really lying around apart from stale bread that Petunia turned into bread pudding in an effort to feel useful.

She showered and changed to go out. The note to Darren on the kitchen table said that much, it didn't matter that it was a weekday, Petunia would only start seriously working again on Monday morning. She drank a little bit of whiskey they had lying around wishing it was something stronger and better tasting.

It was too late to go to the ballet and unsafe to travel anywhere else. If asked, later on, Petunia would have no answer as to what possessed her to go to Knockturn Alley that night. Only that she knocked furiously on the door of the Apothecary when her ward key refused to let her in. The panic plunged her all and once and breathing felt difficult and peaceless. The breathes she took were deep, heaving ones and she swallowed, recklessly the potions that were pushed through her lips. Her mind recognized them, a potion of calming draughts along with a clear head potion.

She shivered with the cold of the room and hadn't realized that someone had draped a blanket over her shoulders. Sets of curious eyes had watched from the Apothecary windows. Petunia forced herself to confront a truth that she already thought she looked into. Eileen was dead and there was no potion that Petunia could create that would bring her back.

Chapter Text

Death was a curious concept. One that Petunia held no love for. Petunia didn’t like the sensation of pain much either. She didn’t like men who hurt her and sometimes she wished she had magic to cast spells to take it all away.

She hadn’t left the flat all day. Petunia smoked inside the house and drank too much coffee. Darren had ballet practice. Jean also had been caught sneaking out one too many times. There wasn’t anyone who was there for her. She really did not have the energy to hold herself up anymore.

When she felt like this Petunia tried to drown herself in work or complicated puzzles that dotted the Spinner’s End property. The owner of the Apothecary had given her enough Calming Drought and tea, but her body had burned through it in almost seconds. She pulled a blanket over herself and tried to take deep breathes. Petunia couldn’t call home, they would refuse to understand and she didn’t know how to make them.

Petunia didn’t mind losing herself in other people. She rarely liked herself enough to be the focus of her own thoughts. But this felt like too much. It felt like every rising wave on the ocean or the fear that her mother had after her father had spent one too many nights outside of the house they shared together.

A sharp wailing sound filled the air and only to devolve into heaving and shivering. It was like she would never feel whole again. Someone crawled into her bed and held her. They said nothing apart from holding Petunia until the shivers and waves stopped. Petunia breathed them in. Warm, safe and a hand stroking her hair. Jean was here and she wouldn’t ask questions. It was not her place to do so.

Chapter Text

Petunia stomped home behind Damocles. He was never supposed to see her like that. Not that she was ashamed of her behaviour, she wasn’t. There was just such a clear line between work and her personal life. However even in the few days that she had lived with Damocles the lines had clearly been blurred.

“I thought that you weren’t dating anyone?”

“It doesn’t make a difference; you weren’t supposed to be there.”

Petunia sounded petulant and childish. She really wasn’t willing to deal with him as they walked to an apparition point. Any enjoyment she had gotten out of the night was completely ruined. She held the edge of his robe as the apparated to Belby Cottage.

She threw the jacket she was wearing onto the coat rack and moved straight to the kitchen. A house-elf immediately popped in as Damocles followed her. She rummaged through the cabinets ignoring both Damocles and the house-elf. They were both saying things that Petunia really didn’t want to hear.

“What don’t you get, you had no right to pull her off of me. I was having fun, she was having fun,” Petunia ground out.

Never in her entire history of going out had a night ended that badly. Petunia had been following the girl for a while. There was this almost instant fizzle. They had seen each other in the club for a while, this was a woman, one Petunia saw when she went the chemists near Darren’s flat.

She wasn’t from here; her clothes were fun and she had a necklace made of gold around her neck.

“Do you even know who she was?” Damocles asked.

Petunia thought it was a strange question. Of course, she didn’t really “know” who she was. Petunia very rarely did when it came to the people she kissed at clubs.

“That was Indra Patel, wife of the Indian Ambassador to the Ministry. He would have killed you if he ever found out.”

Petunia’s blood ran cold. It was as if even when she didn’t want to deal with wizarding problems it brought itself into her life. It wasn’t fair, every moment she spent wanting something for herself meant that she was straying away from being normal. Once she would have thought that living in her own definitions was worth it; now she wasn’t too sure.

Chapter Text

The men at the Grunnings factory were very different from the men Petunia was used to working with. At the factory in Cokesworth, there was an almost automatic sense of respect. They refused to give her anything too heavy, most of them didn’t care that she knew more than they did. That the callouses on her hands looked like the ones on their own. To them, she was just another woman who would have served everyone else better if she was part of the typing pool.

Domacles, to a certain extent, was a far better companion. But he did everything without very much rhyme or reason. He worked as he pleased, slept as he pleased and definitely partied as he, please. Petunia wanted to scream her frustration but held it in. All of this would have been manageable had her entire body quieted itself, if only for a moment.

Pomona suggested going to see a Mind Healer, which Petunia could see the reason to, but then she had seen too many scary things at St Mungo's. The factory processed drill bits and Petunia liked the monotony of the work. They paid by the hour and that helped Petunia as since she was getting a pay cut her parents hadn’t demanded a portion of her work cheque. Petunia thought her mother had something to do with that when she visited last, her mother hid a bruise well forming on her face. Those were all problems she was sure that therapy would not be able to fix.

Tobias also had been the definition of low, to the point where Petunia warned Severus to stay at Hogwarts. Their entire family unit was a mess, she never thought that death would impact them as much as it did. But it was a fundamental part of their life that was gone.

Domacles was weird though, he had bursts of chaotic energy, followed by weeks of absolute nothingness. He didn’t care at times and then sometimes he cared too much. He cared when he threw parties for investors. There he wanted her to look pretty, to say nothing and have the galleons of funding roll in. He was predictable like that, it made him a man. Petunia decided to take Easter off, Ostera, was not a celebration she wanted to be a part of and Domacles, although very unhappy had given her permission to do so.

There would be too many Dark families loitering around, and by not being at the Belby property, she had enticed Lily to come back for Easter. The scarlet train screeched to a halt and Petunia waited eagerly to see her sister. The letters this year had been sparse and said nothing other than Lily was doing fine. Lily barely spoke like that unless things were decidedly not fine, it didn’t matter at the moment. Lily was coming home to her and she wouldn’t complain.

Lily jumped off the train with only a camping backpack and a broom. Petunia had planned a road trip to harvest ingredients. She couldn’t tell why Easter was a good time to be harvesting other than Eileen had always taken them hunting for ingredients during this time. It took a second for Lily to find Petunia before her face changed.

She ran to her sister and caught Lily in a hug and was careful not to drop her. Lily wasn’t wearing her usual robes, nor did she bother to hide that she was a muggle. Although it struck Petunia as odd, she did not question the decision that Lily made. It was clearly some sort of political statement that Petunia chose not to understand. Petunia could sense that Lily was frustrated, that came from years of knowing her sister’s moods and reading between the lines of different tantrums growing up.

Petunia put her sister down. The Wizarding World didn’t do physical affection. They were stiff and any sign of emotion could be a point of manipulation. There was something unsettling about that. It concerned Petunia that Lily was screaming rebellion. Petunia was not as close to her sister as she had once been, but Lily was scaring her in ways that Lily had as a child.

Those days should have been behind them. No, Lily agreeing to this trip was because of something else and Petunia had no choice but to trust her sister.

“I have the map and I assume you’ll be able to follow,” Petunia said, looking at her watch. She would have to beat traffic to get out and Lily could then hop on the broom and follow her the rest of the way.

Lily nodded in understanding and reached for the helmet Petunia had brought with her. That would always make Petunia grin, how her sister had zero fear when she was close enough to touch the clouds but thought her bike was a death-trap waiting to happen. Petunia thought that Lily would turn around and wave goodbye to this world. Her sister did not and settled on the back of the bike, hugging Petunia as Petunia made her way out of the city.

The moment it was safe to do so, Lily strapped the bags onto the broomstick, a Comet, and took to the sky. They hadn’t ever travelled like this. Mostly because they didn’t usually have the money to, but as long as they were back for the Easter service on Sunday, Petunia had gotten permission from her parents to monopolize Lily. Petunia had marked the forest where they would go ingredient hunting and she was exhausted by the time she made it to the isolated camping grounds.

The owners made no comment when she paid them for a week’s stay in cash and a little extra. Lily, as usual, got them to love her within the first hour. That blessing meant that they wouldn’t concern themselves with that the sisters would be doing. Lily had rented a magical tent. Petunia could have kissed her for thinking of that. The tent only held a kitchen, bathroom and bedroom but it would be enough space to preserve potions, ingredients and whatever else they managed to conjure up.

Petunia thought she would have longer than two hours before Lily dragged her down to the floor. Lily cut her palm open before giving the blade to Petunia to do the same. It was both a question and a challenge. Was Petunia brave enough to step into Lily’s world of absolute honesty? Petunia sliced her hand and took Lily’s bleeding palms into hers.

“With our hands joined, bleeding and blooding mingling, do you promise absolute honesty?” Lily asked.

“As much as you offer me.”

The intention was what drove this kind of magic. Dark and something two girls shouldn’t have known about never mind commit these same acts every time they needed to have an honest conversation. There was something incredibly twisted about. Fueled by pure intent and they usually demanded it off each other when they were worried. Neither of them was particularly known for being honest about their feelings.

“Why are you working in a factory?”

Petunia felt the compulsion from the question, it was like a knife to her throat, there was a possibility she would not die from answering the question, but it wanted her to be honest. She preferred this to truth serum though, at least she had the option.

“It’s the only kind of work I’ve trained to do. Why did you decide to come home?” Lily looked hurt at the question and Petunia ignored that look. She needed to know what was going on with her sister in order to decide how best to protect her.

Lily breathed deeply. She probably had not admitted thoughts to herself then. “I needed to get away, to figure out where I am supposed to fit in all of this. I’m not muggle anymore but I’ll never be wizard enough,” Lily said. “That scares me because I can’t imagine a life with magic and then I think of life without it and it doesn’t make sense either.”

“So where do you see yourself, joining the Aurors?”

“Never, they think that by keeping us all isolated they are preserving life. I don’t know.” Lily sounded like she really didn’t know. “What about you Petunia? How long are you going to tiptoe this line?”

Petunia knew the answer to this question. “Until they don’t want to have me anymore. Potion creation is addicting, better high than any drug you can find and I don’t need university for it.”

“So, you aren’t going back to school after this year?”

Petunia shook her head. “There is nothing left for them to teach me.”

“How can you be so sure?” Lily seems to always forget that sometimes because Petunia is older than her it means that she has a few iota’s more wisdom. “Also, for how long have you been sober?”

Petunia pursed her lips. Lily picked good questions. The kind that Petunia didn’t like. Maybe Lily might decide to work for the Department of Mysteries and get to ask the big questions they would all like the answers too. “Sober for the last two days and I’m sure. Enough about that though, what are your plans if you aren’t going to join the Auror force?”

Lily didn’t like how easily Petunia could get high or drunk and function as if nothing had happened. As if the habits she had were normal and healthy. That was a thought that sobered Lily a lot, Petunia could end up like their mom should the circumstances force their hands in a way that did not favour anything of them.

“I don’t really know, I could look for Charms mastery, but then there is this war, who wants a mudblood working for them anyway?”

Petunia could have honestly growled out in frustration. “This isn’t your war to fight. Keep your head down. I have connections.”

The compulsion was like too much alcohol and flooded her body too quickly. Petunia could feel the honesty roll-off in waves. She took her hand out of her sister’s and it was like her head was clear again. They wouldn’t need to hold hands for this, the blood had long since dried and Lily hummed a healing spell to take care of the rest.

“You can’t fight for the Dark, Petunia. Not when they will take you, use you and then kill you.”

“What guarantee do you have that the light won’t do the same? We are just foot soldiers of two sides who think they are different.”

Chapter Text

Petunia was always more unpleasantly shocked by magic than she liked to admit. The weather where they had camped was beautiful. Partly had to do with Lily’s good mood. On their fourth day of camping, their last night before they had to go home. Lily took Petunia to the middle of the forest and forced her to breathe. Primal magic, more specifically weather magic came easily to Lily.

A connection to the world around her was something that Lily had tried to cultivate growing up. She often found herself not getting along with people because of it. Yes, she had friends but she tried to keep that part of her quiet. The part that spent too many hours in the restricted section of the library, skimming through books about the kind of magic that they didn’t teach at Hogwarts.

At Hogwarts magic was either light or dark. There were no grey areas of spells or potions. Petunia’s education with Eileen wasn’t like that though. To Petunia magic was a toolbox and while not every tool could be used in all situations there was always a way to tailor it the quickest.

So they did, camped on in the middle of a mossy area. They hadn’t showered yet and sat across from each other to simply breathe. Petunia felt cold before the air around them got warmer and heavier. Lily looked at peace and it made Petunia wonder if her sister was really ok with Hogwarts.

Lily wrote often, but she also wrote about nothing at the same time. Petunia had seen the Hogwart’s syllabus and in order to brew potions for St Mungo’s she had, had to take both the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s for Potions. There was such a heavy focus on how to be responsible magic practitioners but little to no guidance was given on how magic actually worked.

To Lily magic was more than just waving her wand, it was something she connected with deeply. Apart from her sister, it was the one thing in her life that had been certain. There were reserves of it within her, some of it dependent on other things, but growing up it was one of the few things that made her an individual. Teacher’s hadn’t liked her much growing up and the people around her apart from Sev (God it hurt to think about him) were pretty much terrible to her.

Then Severus called her a ‘witch’ and it seemed that all at once her life changed. She didn’t really care what people called her or what they thought of her because she was a “witch” there was something special about her that wasn’t her red hair or green eyes.

Lily identified more with magic when it was left wild. The order and structure of potions and runes were something that she could do, sometimes she did it well enough to scrape a good enough mark to progress. But anyone who knew her knew that she hadn’t made an “O” in a single O.W.L and many of her other subjects had been low E’s. Lower than Petunia’s marks at school ever been. Not that her parents understood much of what she was studying or why she studied it.

The only subject Lily felt like she had understood throughout her Hogwarts career was Potions along with Charms. She always heard Eileen’s voice at the back of her head, correcting her in all the ways that weren’t too kind or gentle, but made her better at Potions. That’s when it hit her, walking in the middle of nowhere really, as Petunia harvested a mushroom of some sort. Magic could have chosen either of them. They were both equally invested in it.

Petunia would have left magic a long time ago if there was nothing in it for her. That scared Lily to think how easily she would leave the wizarding world should she have had enough of it. The impossible standards. That was what she thought of as she flew home that night. Petunia followed by a bike and together they froze their bodies from how fast they were going.

Their mother said nothing as they climbed into their childhood bedrooms. Or not really. Petunia had to stop herself from screaming in absolute shock when she found Severus in her bed. He looked up at her, eyes groggy but definitely judging her biking leathers.

”Move up, ” Petunia said too tired to even fight him. She would deal with him in the morning even if she didn’t want to.

She flopped next to him and made him the small spoon. With Severus, it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission, that included a lot of platonic physical contact. Lily might not like Severus anymore, but that did not absolve the rest of the family from being there for him. Not when he was the only child that their mother really liked.

The next morning it was like a tornado had entered the house. Lily did Severus’ tie without saying a word to him, as Petunia pulled back Jean’s hair as if she was going for a school interview. Mugs were everywhere and it was too early in the morning to even think. Mrs Evans yelled for them to stop playing heathen music.

“What if they hate me?” Jean asked.

“Then they hate you and he still loves you,” Petunia was not about to give Jean false hope about Darren’s family. “He isn’t going to leave you for them. You don’t have to pretend for them and if you don’t want to meet them, you’re welcome to stay by us, promise.”

Petunia meant it. This earnestness was not new but it was good to remind Jean that she was loved beyond mention. That Petunia loved Jean beyond measure, a lot of people think that it was going too fast for Petunia to be saying things like that, but she had known Jean longer than Darren had. As much as she cared about them both, in a situation where she had to choose someone to hurt, she would always choose Darren.

She kissed the top of Jean’s head before gently nudging her to at least drink some tea. The service would be long, at least it felt long to her. Petunia vaguely saw through the glamours of the books Severus and Lily were smuggling into church hidden in Bible dust-covers. Petunia wanted to judge but for her silence, Lily slipped her a copy of the book she had been looking for about werewolves and how to subdue them.

Good Friday felt like a solemn occasion. Jean sat with Darren’s family and Petunia dared Darren to made a wrong move. Mr Ross did a reading, followed by her father and then Tobias, who looked shocked that Severus was there sitting in church with them. It was clear to see that the relationship between father and son was headed into incredibly hostile waters.

“Don’t you dare do something stupid,” Petunia threatened Severus as she went up to do the next reading.

If one asked Petunia later why she said that, she wouldn’t have had an answer. But this was Severus and his “something stupid” tended to have unpleasant results. Ever since they had turned of age neither Lily nor Severus went anywhere without their wand. That action had Petunia on edge, there was no indication that this was done to protect or to guide. She half expected a full out pub brawl to break out between the two. They couldn’t stand the sight of each other and were forced to get along.

The service dragged on and at one-point Clara moved outside with her son and made Petunia hold the baby while she smoked. When the service finally came to an end, they were all beyond done with the day and its ordeals. Petunia took Jean’s arm and made sure she made small talk with Darren’s family. There was a lot that the family would pick apart when looking at Jean so the least she could do was be polite, even if she hated it.

None of it made a whole lot of sense. Sense and direction were two things that Petunia felt like she was lacking. She thought over it a lot as she walked over to Spinner’s End. Tobias would probably be alone and he never really had a lot of family from what Petunia could tell. She knew she should have tried harder to be there for him when he gave her a big smile as she walked through the door. The house looked clean enough, but a lot of things had changed too. It looked sadder, a far cry from the place that taught her how to make her first potions or where she spent hours pouring over homework.

It did not feel like home without Eileen and for that Petunia had a lot of regrets. She couldn’t keep the promises she was making and it seemed like people wanted her to make more.

“Are you happy?” Tobias asked as they settled down at the kitchen table.

Petunia smiled. “It’s been ok. I’m working at the Grunnings factory, but I miss the one here. There are new machines and I’ve moved on from the hospital.”

“So I’m assuming you’re keeping track of what’s been happening.”

Petunia nodded. There would be a meeting after Easter on it before the school year ended. There were rumours in the air that Wizgamot was trying to phase out the use of muggle and squib potion brewers. Scratch that, it was not a rumour but rather fact. The thought of it filled Petunia with anger. None of the wizards she had worked with had an ounce of competence or logic to keep a system running.

“They are not going to survive without us, they haven’t before and they are not going to start now,” Petunia said with certainty.

Tobias chuckled, in a way that indicated that he thought she was being childish. That offended her.

“They never see us as equals. To them we are as unworthy as ants,” Tobias said.

Petunia had never seen it as anything other than she was worthy. Lily had everything the world could offer, at least in her eyes that what it looked like. From the moment that Dumbledore sent her that letter of rejection Petunia knew she would never have Magic the way Lily did. But Petunia did have potions. She had potions in a way few wizards either did.

This was an area of life where she knew she was talented. Eileen would not have stuck with her had she not been. It wasn’t superstition. They were not able to steal magic, even if they were, Magic only treated those well who treated her kindly. There was a war coming and this war seemed to only want to silence those who didn’t have the ability to stand up for themselves.

“So are you saying I should leave the project?” Petunia wanted a truthful answer from the only person who had been truthful to her when things needed to be said.

“All I am saying is that you need to re-evaluate your loyalty to them. Don’t be pathetic dear, I’m sure I raised you better than that.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 27: Ostara

Ostara and Easter unusually fell close to each other that year. Petunia said goodbye to Lily and Severus before going back to the Belby Cottage. Damocles thought it was beneath him to take part in what the village had to offer, so it tended to fall on Petunia to keep up a relatively pleasant façade in front of the village.

A lot of pureblood families were an intricate part of their surroundings. But nowadays a lot of had withdrawn, much preferring to play gods in the lives of those around them. Petunia couldn't fault them. The church was nice enough and the local primary school allowed Petunia to coach their netball team. She was the one who played the simpering girlfriend to Damocles’ excellence.

Petunia resented the dynamic but still walked into it because it was what he needed. She had rushed back from her home the moment the early morning church service had ended due to the frantic nature of the owl sent by Belby. Only to find out that Ostara was underway. Petunia did not know much about the traditional forms of wizarding celebrations. Eileen had always made sure that they had gone to church and did not even like them uttering about the Olde Ways.

It was not the kind of worship that Petunia was thinking about. She was still in her Easter clothes and her hair was messed from her helmet, only to find the property full of wizards and witches along with half-a-dozen house-elves. When she had insisted on the week off, she had made sure Belby understood that she would only come around for an emergency. It made her feel used when things were not critical at all. She didn't like these kinds of events, whether they be muggle or wizard. The blatant and unnecessary show of wealth.

"It's Ostara," Damocles said as she stormed right past the garden to the front door.

"I don't have the energy for this Belby, but what about this looks like an emergency to you!" Petunia hissed, keeping her voice low. "You don't get to tug me to for your foolish whims. I respect Ostara, but there is no way it qualified as something that needed me to be there. I missed Easter lunch for this 'emergency'"

Petunia didn't usually get visibly upset with Damocles. She could keep him in line for the most part and when she couldn't she tried to work around his whims. He didn't make life easy for her and she didn't expect him to but this action had crossed almost every boundary he had promised not to cross.

"I need a shower and if I'm in a better mood after it, I'll come. If not, you can find me in the dungeon with some Ogden’s after all this is over," she gestured to the garden.

Her room at the Belby Cottage was in the attic with its slanted ceiling and the tiny bathroom had become home. She flopped on her bed, letting her hair loose from the complicated threads of flowers Severus weaved in. She felt bad that his hard work hadn't lasted long, but she was also tired. A part of her berated herself for being harsh with Belby. But he had deserved it, he didn't understand why she wanted to be away from this. It was a way of reminding herself to not be too comfortable in a world that would be ready to throw her out when it had no use for her.

She picked out a textbook from the many that littered her room. This time it wasn't potions but the set of exercise maths problems she should have completed over the week. Petunia hadn't touched them in a while and it took a moment for the rhythm to come back to her. She tended to be ruthless while going through her mistakes. As mindless as the task looked on the outside it was her way of defiance. The tables were thrown against Damocles and she would be pleased when he decided to give her a proper apology.

The knock on the door wasn't him or the house-elf either. She grabbed the bat from beside her bed, a gift half-jokingly given by Darren when she had moved out of his home, and a bottle of one of the newer potions she had created. Those things made her feel safe and she opened the door. Severus stood on the other side, looking younger and more innocent than she had seen him in the last few months.

"How do you make it stop?" he asked her.

His voice lined with desperation and she lifted the sleeve of his left arm. He was supposed to be at home, safe with her mother, and the gravity of what was going on downstairs in the garden made her want to puke. Petunia dragged him in the room and warded every entrance with hedge magic that Fenwick insisted worked on everyone as long as they knew what they were doing.

The skull with the snake lazily moving through it was pretty considering the flesh around it. Petunia pulled out a first-aid kit and stuck a burn patch on his arm, hoping that it would counteract some of the burning. Severus was sobbing quietly as she looked in the box trying to figure out which combination of muggle and wizard treatments would help with pain management.

"I hope to God you are happy." Petunia said as she stripped a piece of aloe and cut thick gel to place on a bandage.

The relief on his face the instant she taped the bandage to his arm was almost worth the disobedience. It also confirmed that the wound seemed to be warded against forms of wizard care. Typical for wizards to ignore the fact that there were entire branches of healing that needed no magic at all to effective.

"They will miss you at the party," Petunia said after a few minutes had passed.

Although Severus still looked like he was in pain, the pain would be manageable and at least heal. He was not a child anymore and he didn't need her to protect him from the horrors of the world. She wished she had it in her to be crueller and mean to him, but he was already suffering for an ideal that she knew he would regret. In all the universes ever created there would not be a universe where Severus Snape was not completely smitten by Lily Evans.

She made Damocles beg for an apology the following day. When she had a little less fear and went down to raid the alcohol cellar for the crappy beers that Darren usually had bought when they were broke. While she didn't enjoy being drunk while working on potions, she needed the bravery that came with a full moon. She took the back entrances and lit the lamps around the room.

Dungeons were cold and nothing like the kitchen where she had first learned to make potions. There was still work that she needed to do for school, but she ignored it in favour of finishing a project that she hoped would make life a little easier for them all when it came to brewing the potion. Damocles had already thought of a name "wolfbane" something to tame the wolf.

The ready surrounding werewolves had told them nothing when they first started sifting through the information. So, Petunia had spent the first of the early weeks in Knockturn Alley trying to get anyone who would talk to her over a meal after work.

It was a slightly abusive and manipulative system but it was the only way to get people to talk. She wasn't any better than the wizards on the outside. Petunia was just as cut-throat and exploitative. She wasn't in the position to judge regardless of what she thought.

The party above seemed like it wasn't going to unwind anytime soon. The potion tests bubbling didn't have a stasis charm on them. Damocles was trying a new method that if it worked would be great but bring up the expense of the potion. Not that, that mattered to either of them.

They didn't address what had happened during Ostara. Petunia had gone to the village and activated the old Belby protection runes over the village after she sneaked off the farm. She spent the night at the church, pretending that she was praying for the soul of her mother, who she told the priest was going through a "difficult time". It was a lie, but one the priest didn't question, instead, he gave Petunia old clothes to sleep in and asked her to join the bake sale the following morning. The morning after the bake sale she had gone home and holed herself in the dungeon surrounded by potions that did damage upon vaporization. Petunia had never been more scared for her own life.

It was the last point of the lunar cycle for this potion and for them to be not talking would mean that the work was done this month would have been for nothing. Damocles had invited a few people over to watch this last point and it showed that he had confidence in this iteration of the potion. At least enough confidence that it would lead to some sort of tangible result.

Petunia and Damocles made sure that their breathing synced up. Every addition and stir had to be done together otherwise this method would not yield a pleasant result. They then slowly swapped ladles full of the potion every hour on the hour until the new moon reached its zenith, the potion was complete. A thick brown sludge that didn't look or smell very pleasant. It was piping hot, a werewolf had come forward. Greyback himself had offered to drink every ladleful that needed testing before he released it to the world. Unlike the rest of the Death Eater's, he did not hide his mark, nor his disgust for Petunia.

Petunia had taken to wearing a lot of silver and carrying a silver dagger with her. Guns didn't work in the wizarding world and Borgin and Burke had a nice silver multi-tool on sale. Overall, the incentive to protect herself outweighed any sort of stupid pride. Greyback grimaced at the smell.

"You must be able to add sugar to this." He talked in a low growl and the demand for sugar made Petunia fear him a little less at that moment.

"It'll change the structure of the potion making it useless. No sugar," Petunia was firm, she had tried it.

Greyback gulped down the potion in a couple of long dregs. Pulling his face every time. Petunia brought out a box of biscuits she had gotten from the bake sale and shoved it to him along with water and tea. She could hear her mom telling her she wasn't a good enough host. As Damocles was talking excitedly about the next set of steps he could take with regards to the potion, Petunia took her notebook and pieces of parchment to begin putting together what would be their final draft for the potion journals. If she did the labour now, then she wouldn’t have to worry about trying to find pieces of paper the house-elves cleaned away.

She sat at the kitchen table eating vegetables without salt on them. A habit picked off from Darren when he was trying to be "healthy" before the starvation phase. The chemical symbols and explanation of the potion as they began their first round of human testing was quite interesting. Petunia had gotten the idea from birth control that Clara had, had to beg for. She hadn't told Damocles that but had made sure he understood what she thought would work. To get a person to think independently of the wolf inside.

The best protocol would have been to have a werewolf potion maker on the project. There was only a handful as far as she understood, they didn't like to draw attention to themselves. She kind of understood why now.

Chapter Text

They were working in absolute silence after Petunia came home from her shift at the Grunnings plant. The type of machinery was old enough, that people knew what they were doing, but new enough that there wasn't much trouble. Petunia had stacks of problem questions in her bag for the exams that were about to start soon. People at work started giving her wide-berth when she did her work without much trouble and spent lunchtime eating with the typist pool.

Belby and her watched each other before adding the next ingredients into their respective cauldrons. At this point, the questions that stemmed from the action was why. There were a lot of "why's?" that Petunia wanted the answers to, and she was terrified at the answers she would get when she had the bravery to ask the questions. From their pages of readings, only old potions were created like this. Lots of concentrated magic and the contrast would have made anyone laugh.

Domacles took potions seriously. He loved it and then with the same breathe he hated it. Sometimes, he would wake Petunia very late at night, to try something new. They couldn't do this alone and both of them were incredibly unhappy about that. Brewing together was an old act of almost worship. Belby had said it held significance in passing and Petunia desperately did not want to believe him. It meant that they were connected and needed each other because each had a part to play. The tried it separately, but if the steps were even the slightest second off, the potion rendered itself useless.

The funny thing was Petunia almost counted on Belby to let her go after the party and the first successful trial. She was a muggle, she was good at her job, but the muggle portion outweighed the rest almost on any given day. It should in front of potions. When Petunia took the job, Domacles promised that they would change the world. She had no other choice but to believe that narrative because he wrote it. When Belby batted his eyes people opened their pockets. Petunia couldn't deny there was a power to that.

A much more effective power than her ability to slip unnoticed. People who lived in Cokesworth usually didn't draw attention to themselves. Lot's of purebloods believed in the opposite. They believed in talent and letting those with talent succeed. It didn't matter how much dirty blood they had as long as they could serve, they would be useful. Domacles raised his wand.

"Belby if you plan to throw another cooling spell, I will leave this potion."

"How can you stand it?" Domacles asked.

"I was born in the coldest part of the summer. Also, I don't cover myself in layers."

They both took hands of their potions and let the two cauldrons simmer. It would be another hour before they did anything to it. Petunia opened the cooling box and got out water. There was always purified water in there and usually ice-cold. Petunia would write her last exam a few days ago. She had wanted to celebrate with Jean, but she held herself back for a moment.

There was work to do. The whispers around the potion sphere were that they were going to phase out the licences of non-magical brewers. That meant any squib or muggle who had ever held a licence, which had to be renewed annually would no longer be able to brew, run potion shops or legally buy ingredients of a certain grade.

"You know you and still work here even if they take it away," Domacles said.

Petunia clenched her jaw. It was uncomfortable to confront him, but she also valued her safety and he knew that she knew.

"Your mark, do you believe it?" she asked

Damocles looked uncomfortable at the questions but his eyes firmed. "Muggleborns are taking over our world and with that are muddying our customs and traditions. The Dark Lord is planning to preserve that. He is preserving the magic and for that, I am indebted to him."

Petunia opened her mouth. But then realised that she would have to explain to him concepts of discrimination, from her perspective, and that he was only doing more harm. It wasn't her place to need to have those conversations with him especially when he was clearly making all those exceptions for her. She could hear Lily almost screaming in her head for how wrong she was being to leaving it. Petunia didn't have the energy. She took a cider out of the ice chest and drank deeply. The last bit of the potion for the day wouldn't need her to be completely aware.

"Do you miss it? Hanging out with another muggle, " Belby asked.

"I miss being with them casually. I miss working and then going out to the pub. Genuinely, I miss being normal."

To a certain extent, the words chosen were to hurt Domacles. In her eyes, he wasn't normal, he didn't expect to be and Petunia was fine with it, she just missed it and he wanted an honest answer, so she answered honestly.

"So if you were a witch, would the answer change?"

Petunia shook her head. She saw it in Lily, how living in two worlds destroyed her. Lily couldn't just go back to her job at the grocers and Petunia found it harder to fault her sister for those thoughts. Petunia could feel the distance grew between her and the people she called her own. In many ways, she was a sell-out.

"Once you start with magic, it fills everything. I reach for murtlap before I think of taking a painkiller."

A timer went off. "I'm scared I'm losing all the normal parts of me and I hope that it isn't the same for you," Petunia said.

She didn't enjoy painful conversations. That much was clear as the finished the potion together before Greyback came around to try this round. The moon had gone well. Fenrir had remarked that he felt in control, there was a mean edge to it. The kind that Petunia associated with red flags that she had dated before Darren.

She had heard the stories like everyone else and tried to not be in his way as he drank the potion. Petunia just made sure that there was plenty of tea and biscuits waiting when he did. Sometimes, he held her wrist tightly and breathed in too deeply. It was in those moments she shot Domacles looks of pure helplessness and knew those rumours about Fenrir were imbedded in deep truths.

Petunia couldn't flirt her way out of situations the way Clara could. Her strategy was to make sure she was never in those situations in the first place. But then those same red flags popped up when she was around Vernon Dursley.

Vernon Dursley had recently graduated from university and held himself up with importance, pomp and show. He worked in management at the factory, easing himself into the position that had been his grandfather's. Nepotism wasn't new but Petunia thought he would be a more pleasant man had he known what grime felt like underneath is fingernails. Vernon's fingers never felt like they wanted to do anything but harm her.

But Vernon, like an itch, had settled under her skin and she knew that she wouldn't give him up just yet. Not without him hurting her. Petunia had picked up this terrible habit over the years. Eileen would have commented on them over the years.

She knew she liked men and women, she liked them older and when she had come home with Darren everyone had sighed a short sigh of relief. Petunia didn't like men or women that were supposed to be good for her. She liked them from the factory, with grease under their nails and those who didn't expect any kind of loyalty from her. Vernon fit the last criteria but failed miserably everywhere else. He wasn't the best lay but he was normal and Petunia tended to crave normal on hours that she could.

"His letter to you was filthy, " Domacles said as she made the mistake of reading it in the dining room. "Not even the good kind."

Petunia rolled her eyes. "He's from the factory, upper management, and is ok at sex."

"You, of all people, with a man who can barely write a coherent sentence?" Domacles said. He was judging her very harshly.

Petunia rolled her eyes. Domacles was exaggerating, Vernon wasn't that terrible, she tried to justify. The thing is, she couldn't justify anything. Vernon is a terrible person and Petunia didn't hate him enough to cut him off, just the same way she hadn't cut off the stream of Death Eaters who walked in and out of the Belby cottage.

She needed her job with Domacles, it gave her a place to stay and currency used in the wizarding world. It was also close enough to her job at Grunnings, that she wasn't spending too much to get herself to work every day. All of these things were important. So Belby had the power to say what he wanted and Petunia just had to keep quiet and take it, regardless of how unfair it was.

"He's good at the whole physical aspect even if everything else doesn't work out."

Petunia didn't want to talk about Vernon but once Domacles mind was made upon a topic, he had to make his opinions known.

"But how is that enough? Why do you think it is enough for you?"

Petunia sighed, "Because girl's like me aren't expected to do better. Girls who sleep around, who come from the wrong side of the tracks or spend their time in mechanic shops."

"So you're basically saying that your actions determine your station out there? Then make better ones."

"It does the same in here except you use blood," Petunia said, "I am your apprentice because you wanted me but a Mastery would definitely be out of reach because of my blood. My dirty muggle-tainted blood."

Domacles opened his mouth to reply. "Don't I don't need to hear it from you. Magic favours those who favour themselves and I know you believe this too."

The door flung itself open and sets of black robes swarmed in. There was blood everywhere and the scent of something acidic. In the summer heat, even during the night, Petunia should have felt warm instead she didn't.

A house-elf popped in, concerned but forcing themselves to do nothing. Domacles must have ordered otherwise a long time ago.

"Get one of Petunia's muggle first aid kits." Petunia would have gotten into an argument about the lack of privacy, but wizards did take privacy for granted.

Petunia didn't touch anything for fear that she would be cursed but Damocles never really gave her much of a choice apart from a look that told her to diagnose and get to work. The house-elves (multiple) Petunia rarely noticed them tried to help only for Petunia to flick them away. She would feel bad for that afterwards when the Death Eaters lay on the couch and she moved to her room. This was not her battle to get involved in and even if she did, it would be stupid, incredibly silly to get any sort of revenge

Chapter Text

Petunia didn't have classes until her last exam, so she wasn't really a picture of happiness when she went downstairs to scarf oatmeal down. She was half asleep and there were too many people who were talking to her in the morning. Petunia slipped out the back door and went running. She couldn't have a moment to have a breakdown.

Petunia wasn't going to breakdown, not in front of them. Magic was an emotional thing and it could sense weakness. Petunia would not give that to anyone, not when she knew what they could do with magic like that.

Lily had been on a Primal Magic kick lately if the books she asked for where to be believed. The stretch wasn't too far from what she had been originally working out. Lily breathed Magic, the way most purebloods in Damocles circle wished they did. She breathed it with storm and fury. Compulsion came to her like second nature, it was in her letters and Petunia could feel the truth Lily's demanded of her.

She ran up and down hills trying desperately to outrun the panic. Petunia made her way home, cringing at the thoughts that she thought. Soon her license would expire and she would have to think of what moves she wanted to make next. There was no love lost between her and Damocles. Although they had an amicable working relationship that was all Petunia wanted it to be. By drawing this much attention to herself, she was putting a lot of people at risk.

Those moves she had brought on herself. She should have left the world after Eileen's death, but the idea of Wolfsbane held too much glory for her to not be enamoured by the idea. Eileen was the cause for all of this, she thought incredibly bitterly. There was nothing more tempting than the idea of what Magic could do and no science could take its place.

The backdoor was open and people were still milling around. They looked clean and dressed in robes. Petunia felt the overwhelming pressure again. She was going to end up like her mother. Rose was inside her head more than was strictly healthy for anyone to be. There was a scent of healing that brought Petunia back to her days at St Mungo's. Too many inputs and not nearly enough places to redirect them too. That's what it felt like when people talked to her. Petunia answered the right answers but she also wasn't really listening or paying attention. Damocles had promised her glory, but she was now sure that glory wasn't worth this.

Not when the path to glory would never be hers to have. They ate supper together that night and the atmosphere hoarded tension for the lack of a better word. Damocles had wanted to say a lot of this and then held himself back.

"I leave when my license expires," Petunia said. She had thought about it, it was unlikely that Wizgamort would vote in favour of letting them have rights at all. She had heard the grumbling in Gringotts from the Goblins about the raids that had taken place in their homes. It had stressed them out to the point of where Iron Fang had come to her for brewing expertise on wounds that wouldn't heal no matter what they did.

If Goblins were being attacked by all sides of the wizarding world, what hope did she as a Muggle have.

Petunia couldn't stand it much longer. By being around Domacles she was complacent when it came to aiding the separation of the Muggle and Wizard world. She hadn't seen the Dark Lord but she had felt his magic. It felt heavy but tasted like molasses in the same way that Lily's magic tasted of cool, icy mint.

"But we are so close to figuring it out."

They were really close to figuring out how to brew separately from each other when it came to Wolfbane. It was the last step that puzzled both of them. Just before the last step, they added a sliver of valerian root and wolfsbane. Petunia had tried carving runes to the base of cauldrons. The potion stopped telling her what she needed and both of them knew that the Council would not regard it as a valid potion unless one could make it by oneself without the need for assistance. The art of communal brewing, although a tradition as old as Magic, wasn't what many regarded as effective. Petunia had to agree, they were getting nowhere and it was unnecessary to even think about.

She lit a cigarette and made a pot of coffee after washing the dishes. Domacles wasn't terrible when he was by himself. That being said, Domacles sat at the kitchen table, with Gaunt, nursing a brandy while thinking of the same problem.

"Why aren't you studying, don't you have an exam coming up?" He looked genuinely concerned for her academic health.

"I'll be fine, it's not that I'm going to do anything with the marks." Petunia had come to terms with that, finishing her education was just ticking a box at this point.

Over the last three months, Petunia had just barely managed to keep her grades higher than a C, far lower than the A's she had been predicted at the beginning of the year. She wanted it to matter but really tried not to bring herself to care. She wanted to get into a trade school and work at a factory. Maybe live a simpler life back at home in Cokesworth.

"You can't be done with it. No one get's out just like that." Lord Gaunt had spoken, Petunia wasn't going to listen anymore.

That kind of surprised Petunia. School wasn't an escape for Petunia, not in the way it was for many people. She had gone to school because it was the right thing to do, but money came first, it always did. Whether Tobias accepted it or not. Petunia knew her mother would prefer her to leave it behind. But money made the world spin faster. At some point, school had just got in the way of her trying to get more shifts. Sometimes she even resented the opportunity to sit and write her exams.

She would hopefully be free after this last one. Grunnings wanted to move her to the typing pool after the summer. They would be losing a few women there and Petunia did have a certificate. Petunia had made it clear that she would only be considering the option if it came with a raise.

But somehow for her to verbalize why she didn't care all that much about school was a lot harder. It was that school wasn't a good fit for her anymore. A sad truth that she didn't want to admit for herself. The younger her had wanted to study Natural Sciences with a focus on Chemistry.

Now she would be happy just to go on unnoticed and live her life in relative peace. Petunia didn't have big goals or aspirations for herself and that just seemed to make everyone around her angry. Her mom wanted to know why she wasn't interested in bringing the boys she dated home and Domacles seemed to be more eager to blame her for their lack of progress than his own focus.

"Well I am, we're finishing Wolfsbane before the end of the summer and then I get to say goodbye to all of this." Petunia felt strongly about that much. "I have people I need to be there for and a million other things to do. Besides if I stay too long, you're going to drag me into this war of yours." She said it almost jokingly. "I'm serious though, Damocles. The pureblood game you're playing, isn't something your dragging me into. You promised me; you took an oath."

Oaths were sacred things. They also nuanced interactions with those that they bound. Petunia couldn't take a knife to Damocles' throat and he had no authority to force her to kill herself. Both those things were quite common among Master-Apprentice relationships.

Petunia took a moment to make herself comfortable and to find the words to reply. She couldn't find her journal anywhere. The one where she scribbled down potions and notes in an attempt to make what they were doing legible.

"Damocles, have you seen my notebook? It has my maths notes."

The last bit was obviously a lie, which Damocles refused to ignore.

"I have it." The way he said it made Petunia understand that she probably wouldn't be getting her book back. "This, what is this!"

Petunia winced at the sound of his voice. The harshness and betrayal. She knew exactly what he was asking about. The book was opened to the pages of a potion that she had doodled along with the pages and ended up creating.

The idea was simple. A touch of magic would cause the drinker to relive their worst memories. The potion wasn't pleasant. Petunia never intended for it to be more than protection and even then, she refused to make the potion. It also used bits of dementor cloth and that was an ingredient that was difficult for anyone to get their hands on regardless of monetary status.

Why Petunia thought of such a potion, heaven only knew why. Somehow Petunia knew that they wouldn't let it go. Lord Gaunt wasn't hiding anything from either Petunia or Damocles though. Damocles wasn't marked and that allowed mobility. Besides potion makers were hard to come by, especially as one talented as Damocles.

As Lord Gaunt moved away from public life and especially healing, he grew more comfortable around the space within Belby Cottage with its fluctuating temperatures and what seemed like a constant supply of Magic.

Petunia grabbed her book out of Belby's hands. Damocles would put it on her shoulders. The fact that she felt uncomfortable enough to create something like this.

"I'm not making it if that's what you're asking." Petunia scanned the book roughly and almost dropped her shoulders with relief. There were no edits made in the margins.

"You really think you have an option." Lord Gaunt said and it sent shivers of danger down Petunia's spine.

She knew that she would probably be backed into a corner in cruel ways if she refused. Still, resistance was always something that would be noted. Besides, they would have to find a Dementor cloak willingly given and Dementors rarely gave of themselves willingly.

Chapter Text

Damocles shrieked with excitement. Petunia looked up from her maths sheet. There, in a cauldron was the thick sludge that could only be Wolfsbane. She promptly forgot about the maths sheet for her exam the next day.

"You're kidding, there was a Rune in the wrong place all this time?"

Petunia stuck a finger in the cauldron.

"It tastes, reacts and smells like Wolfsbane." Her eyes widened with surprise. She frantically looked at the piece of parchment next to the cauldron. Where had they been going wrong?

Damocles looked so proud of himself. This potion had been something he had been working on for years, since before he left Hogwarts. In potion circles, especially wizarding ones, there was a clear distinction between who should benefit from the title of Apprenticeship. The non-magical, like Petunia, could only go as far as working under someone. This potion, however, would seal Damocles as one of the greatest potion-minds of their generation.

"If these repeats, we apply to start Summer Trials and then publish." It was the plan of action, that they had wanted for a while now.

"About that, have you given any idea about how you're going to vote at Wizengamot?" Petunia asked. They usually tried not to bring politics into the potion dungeon. Neither of them could handle the others bigotry and both wanted to at least not have potion-making devolve into something dangerous. Tough conversations were best kept outside the spaces they worked in.

"I don't really know. It's useful to have non-magical folk working in areas like at the hospital, but what is to be said if we don't vote against the renewal of licenses. More magical people who don't have the ability to even make their own potions?"

That should have answered her question and she probably needed to do more maths, but this was enough of a victory to leave the maths behind for a while.

Petunia agreed to some level with that though. She had been to Knockturn Alley enough times to know how employment worked. While the community was tiny, many found jobs more easily overseas and away from Britain. She knew how she would feel if she lost her job at the factory. The thought wasn't a comforting one but it forced her to think about what, hopefully, Wizengamot was trying to do.

"How do people decide to go into potions though? Slughorn doesn't seem like he wants to be doing anything more than collecting people." Petunia said. No one really liked Slughorn, but he was useful to have around and he was wicked smart.

Damocles paused for a minute. There was a slight bit of conflict in his eyes before he sighed and sat on a stool. Maybe Petunia shouldn't have asked. This conversation may be heading into places that she didn't want it to go.

"He won't love you as much if you said it to his face," he said. Damocles watched Petunia as she looked surprised and then tried to cover it up.

Slughorn loved the useful and everyone knew that Petunia was useful.

"You make him crystalized pineapple from scratch. He's a sucker for that."

"He's also an exceptionally talented potioneer." Petunia tried to defend. "And you needed him on your side."

There was their reminder. A pesky one, to remind Damocles that most actions he wanted to shame her for were ones she usually did for him. Sometimes the comments got a bit much. A poke too much here and there. Still, her last exam symbolized some kind of an ending to all of this. She looked forward to it, to spend the summer at the Belby Cottage finishing the last potion she would probably help with the creation of it.

Petunia had promised herself she would leave, no matter how much every fibre in her being was screaming at her to stay. There was the obvious, that Petunia didn't feel like she was much without her ability to make potions. They would know tomorrow after her exam Wizengamot would take the vote about non-magical practitioners and their licenses. A lot of the people she had worked with had stated they were in the same boat as her. Many of them had already tried to seek alternative employment already. Almost as if it had been set in stone that it was time to move on.

So much had happened during the last school year and Petunia should have been happy to leave it all behind. There was a wedding in the summer, Lily would be home and she would have finished trials on Wolfsbane. It was more than enough. Somehow it had to be.

Petunia woke up at the crack of dawn and tried to not feel nervous. The sun had not come up and the lights in the house were dimmed. Her stomach seemed to be filled with butterflies and Damocles was the one who forced a cup of tea and toast in her hands for breakfast.

Petunia felt like she was ready to puke. Last exams where never something that she enjoyed being a part of. This was especially bitter-sweet. She had grown so much since she had entered the school and a part of her wasn't ready to write the exams. She thought she had done well so far, not as good as when she was a full-time student, but good enough.

Petunia did her hair in the kitchen and put on her school blazer. She looked like everyone else in her school. A somewhat presentable version of what a woman should look like to society and that used to bother her. Not anymore, not when she could do nothing to stop it.

Before she grabbed her helmet, Damocles wished her luck and it was far more than the exam.

Jean was a picture of calm and waiting at the gates of the school as Petunia parked her bike. Jean had recently gotten her hair done and it looked good as if she was going into war. Her place at dentistry school depended on it and she was poised to win. Sometimes Petunia wanted to stop writing in the middle of the exam just to watch Jean tackle a paper. There was a sense of ruthless precision that Petunia rarely saw Jean execute elsewhere.

They walked to the exam hall together and Petunia sent a quick prayer to the sky for whoever would take it. Not that it mattered, as she flipped the page over, she smiled. The exam would be a good one. She finished early and slipped out.

There would be time for her to say her goodbye's later. The most important Wizengamot session in her life was about to begin and she wanted to be there for every second of it.

Petunia joined the mass of clear Squibs and other non-magical individuals who were flooding the Wizengamot chambers. She was pumped full of test adrenaline and she stood on the banks, giving up her seat to someone who looked older than her grandparents would've. Petunia had her license on her and she knew she wasn't the only one. Her co-workers from St Mungo's, the ones who had the morning off, were talking quietly to themselves after Petunia had greeted them.

There was actually talking and Petunia found herself wishing that the talking would end. She knew how Wizengamot did, they all did. A council made up of elected individuals and people who gained a seat through being part of the Sacred 28. The robes of people walked in and in the middle of it, all was Albus Dumbledore.

She tried to find faces she recognized. Lord Prince, looked just like his sister did, Damocles, for once, looked professional and there in the middle of the arch sat Lord Gaunt. Crests embroidered in the finest gold and polished wood. Dementors who gently glided into the chambers and filled Petunia with the icy fear only they could bring.

They were not criminals. Not in the way the Dark painted them out to be. The anti-muggle sentiment had grown to new heights over the last few months. A few Patronus' glittered the room and a gavel hammered down. The session had begun.

Petunia could probably recall very little of it and when asked about the events even minutes later she would not be able to state what was said. The motion had passed exactly the way Damocles had stated it would. She would no longer have the option of renewing her license after it had expired effective immediately.

Petunia took a step back and a pair of hands caught her before she fell. There it was again, those overwhelming feelings that didn't want to let go of her. The Dementors slowly crawled towards her and Petunia had to bite the inside of her cheeks to not scream. She knew where she would feel like she was in if she screamed. Back at the hospital with Eileen, watching potion, spell and rune uselessly attempt its magic on Eileen only to leave her worse than before.

The hands dragged her to the pub, the one where she spent most of her time off from St Mungos with her co-workers. A muggle one that didn't question how its patrons were slightly eccentric and wore robes that reached the ground. Someone had put a glass of chocolate liquor in front of her and immediately warmed up.

Shell-shocked and angry, were the only descriptions around the room. Petunia had known why they had brought the Dementors in and it made her angrier to think that wizards had that much power over everything. They would no longer be protected by Magic, and that was a big deal. Petunia wasn't ignorant, someone in the muggle government must have pushed it on them.

Still, Petunia had reached a point where she didn't know who she was without potions. Losing her license meant that she wasn't legally allowed to brew potions in any capacity, not even to protect those she cared about and that was a strike against her.

The pub grew rowdier and the St Mungo's crew had already left for the evening while those on morning shifts had come in, the person who had pulled Petunia out of the Ministry had not left Petunia. Instead, he was sketching the entire scene. The man was around her father's age and had a lot of the same energy Tobias exuded. The air of a man who was sure of his place. Steady.

"That's really good," Petunia said. She didn't know what else to say.

The man scoffed, "A masters in fine art restoration from Cambridge and all you get is a 'really good'. The name's Argus Filch, I work at Hogwarts mostly in potions, and you are?"

"Petunia Evans, potions, currently apprenticing under Damocles Belby." Petunia said sticking her hand out.

"I had a feeling; a lot of good potion brewers are going to be losing their jobs soon. As for me, Dumbledore's got enough sense to keep me around."

If this was anyone else, Petunia would say that he was just boasting. But as much as Dumbledore was controversial, his stance on muggles seemed to never change. Always supportive enough to play nice with them.

Chapter Text

Petunia was definitely at least tipsy when she parked her bike at the bottom of the building. Jean drew her in and Petunia melted into the moment, just a moment, before picking Jean and twirling her around. She had sent an owl to Damocles, letting him know that she wouldn't be back until the next night.

It had been, what felt like, forever since Jean looked like this. Full of light and happiness. There was going to be a wedding tomorrow and then Jean and Darren would go off for the weekend before Darren's Monday show.

Petunia couldn't have been more excited. Darren loved Jean and Petunia felt that between them, love would be enough. She could imagine them, two people who had interests as varied as they did, they made it work.

That night felt like she had never moved out. Jean lead Petunia dancing lazy circles as the music and alcohol ran freely. Petunia hadn't gotten out of her uniform completely and looked sloppy next to Jean's slacks and jersey.

"I wish I could do this forever," Petunia said, cuddling further on Jean's bed.

Jean hummed in agreement, as she turned the page of the book she was reading. Petunia opened her eyes and wondered if this was a good time to show them the rings she had chosen for them.

"And what would your parents say, the scandal of their dear Petunia sleeping with a Black girl," Jean said.

Petunia thought for a minute. "Screw them and Cokesworth, one day I'm going to have the world at my palms and you, Mrs Granger are going to rule it."

"Dream on, Evans, if anyone is going to give Jean the world it's me," Darren said. He flopped on the bed, right on top of Petunia. "How was the exam?"

Jean groaned. "Can we not talk about the exam? I don't even want to think about it."

Petunia pushed Darren off and he immediately pulled the covers over him. "I showered at the Theater. Also, both of you owe me a night, what good are season tickets when the people in your life barely show up?"

"I told you to give mine to Ross and Clara, she loves that stuff," Jean said.

Darren pouted and Jean kissed him. Sometimes Petunia wanted to see into the future, just to make sure that those she cared about were happy, just like in the moments where she saw them at their happiest.

"Same, besides we all know you're a good dancer," Petunia added.

There was a beat of silence. "What if I can't sustain it and my body gives up before I'm ready to let it go?"

Petunia knew what he meant by that. This was the Darren who showed her the importance of earnestly running after wants even when the rest of the world considered it frivolous. Darren loved himself, most days, and on the days that he didn't, it was up to the rest of the world to make him feel loved.

"Then your body gives up and we put your A-levels to good use," Jean said.

Petunia turned to face them. In a world that moved so fast, the few constants were Jean's practicality and Darren's determination. That was more than enough to build a home. A home with the two of them and something more, should they ever decide.

They were supposed to sleep before going to the marriage registration place. The morning found them as messy as ever. Ross looked nervously at his watch as no one in the flat had gotten dressed yet.

Jean was having Darren do her lipstick and Petunia was nursing a cup of tomato soup in hopes to cure her hangover.

"I asked you if I needed to stay the night and you told me you had everything under control," Ross said, polishing Darren's shoes. "Please tell me you have rings, otherwise I'm going to scream… children, actual children, getting married."

"Hey, you were going out with Clara before she left jailbait territory," Petunia defended. "Also, I have the rings."

Ross glared at Petunia and she stuck her tongue out at him. Clara was with Jean's dad and uncle at the registry already.

Petunia looked over her shoulder and leaned in. "Have the Granger's still not said their coming?"

"The church or nothing. You know they don't want that and I'm not going to force Darren into it."

Of all the complaints Darren's family could have had about this marriage, the biggest one was that there would be no wedding at a church. Darren and Jean didn't want that. Darren wanted something out of the way and Jean agreed not wanting to spend the cash on some wedding. Ross had tried to talk them both into it and Jean had refused, then burst into tears whenever it was brought up.

When Jean cried, you learned that it was for things, big things that no one should ever need to go through. Jean cried, but the tears she cried that night were out of fear and Ross stopped asking or pressuring. When Petunia had brought it up; he was the one who put his foot down and to a certain extent, Ross' word was still the law.

"Also, we need more hands in the summer, on your days off, could you come by to the factory?" Ross asked.

Petunia could only deduce that Tobias was drinking again and to add on top of the million other issues that seemed to come up when Tobias' name was brought up. It hadn't even been a year since Eileen had left and the vacuum that had been created from her lack of presence peppered every bit of Petunia's existence.

"Sure, I'm moving into one of the Grunnings hostels at the end of the summer, but I'll try come down more often."

Jean tapped Petunia on her shoulders as she finished speaking. Petunia had to physically hold herself back from tackling her best-friend. Heavens, all the heavens combined, was Jean beautiful. Soft, delicate and perfect, so bloody perfect.

Petunia held Jean's shoes as they walked down the stairs and then slipped them on. She took a step back to admire the yellow dress, the fabric and the person in it. Jean had taken the braids out of her hair when she had come home and spent the entire day after her exam preparing it for the crown of yellow flowers that Clara had made.

"Stop staring," Jean looked uncomfortable at the faces staring at her.

Petunia smiled, "If he ever does anything terrible, I'll help you dispose of him."

Jean punched Petunia's shoulder and then pulled her into a hug. They got married at the registry office, with very little pomp and show. The rings Petunia had sourced from Goblins themselves had every sliver of protective magic she had learnt over the last few years and she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in when the magic settled. They would be protected even when apart. She had done her bit and they were enclosed in bands of gold, the finest gold she could get her hands on.

Clara squeezed Petunia's hand gently when the wedding was complete. Petunia still cried on the car on the way to the flat. Whether out of relief or something else, Petunia couldn't have said. The magic that it required emotion took a lot out of her. Sometimes it simply shattered her and that wasn't fair.

But there were few things in life that were fair. The owl that dropped a note when Petunia went back to the flat wasn't fair at all.

Dementor acquired it read in a thin script

She could not believe he was serious about that potion. Petunia didn't even know if it worked. There were just a dozen running theories that had cobbled itself into a recipe for a potion that no one should ever have to drink.

"They need me at work. Give Jean and Darren my love, all of it." Petunia said as she packed quickly and found her helmet in Darren's bedroom."

"What do you do for work?" Clara asked as Petunia tore through the room gathering her life, the bits of it she had left there.

Her voice wasn't peppered with curiosity, Clara wanted answers and no man had ever had the strength to deny Clara Whitehead anything.

"It's nothing, just general housekeeping and stuff for room and its closer to Grunnings." The answer wasn't a lie, just not a complete truth either.

Clara grabbed Petunia's shoulders and turned her forcefully. "It's those Snape's. You are no longer beholden to Eileen, no matter what anyone says."

The sight should have been a comical one. But the strength that Clara exuded was one that meant she wasn't going to be trifled with. There was a reason why Ross hadn't had the guts to cheat on Clara and part of it was that she would get to him before she got to her.

"It's not her and in case you haven't noticed it, some of us don't like to be queens in gilded cages." Petunia spat, moving right into Clara's space.

Petunia was taller and while the height made her awkward at times; she could make it look intimidating.

"I'm not telling you to get married, but you have a terrible habit of leaving everyone out of the picture when you make a decision."

"It doesn't concern you." Petunia gritted out.

Clara's eyebrows shot up and she levelled Petunia down with a disapproving stare. "Who are these people that you drop everything, your best friend's wedding day, to be by their side? Your mother tells me you haven't spoken to her in weeks? And you ask why I'm concerned about you?"

While all those were truths, Petunia didn't have time to argue with Clara. "I'll make it up with everyone at the end of the summer. I promise." She stopped and kissed Clara on the cheek.

The argument should have been louder but Petunia didn't have time for that. She had to regroup herself and refuse to make the potion. Belby couldn't coerce her to do anything she didn't want to, not with spells or potions and definitely not by brute force. He would break an oath and because of it, he would die. That was part of the clause Petunia signed when she became his apprentice. A standard clause leftover from when Masters did do what they please to the Apprentices who worked under them.

Clara did ask relevant questions though. Out of all the people Petunia met in the last few years, Clara had that kind of power over her. The only person who demanded answers and then got them. That being said, Petunia didn't want to be the one to send a team of obliviators to their town just because Clara pushed with one question too many.

She owed it to the people around her to be good, to put their interests above what she willing to do. Petunia stopped by the post-office on the way back to collect post and send a letter off to Dumbledore. If Damocles insisted that she needed to be a part of the war then she needed to be prepared. Not that she knew how that looked.

Chapter Text

The shower was set to the highest setting Petunia could manage. Still, the deep chill refused to leave her. Her teeth chattered and her throat was horse from the hours spent screaming. The things she saw, her worst memories swirling together to bring about an image of absolute fear.

The set of knocks on her door would usually elicit a response. Not right now, Petunia needed sleep and the biggest vail of Dreamless Sleep. The set of knocks was more frantic, then the taps turned themselves off.

Still no response, from Petunia, apart from the shivering. They had done it without a Patronus today, a stupid idea and now Petunia felt cold. The coldest she had ever remembered feeling. Without the shower going the frequent gongs of screaming rang in her head and moans of pain. Petunia tried to scream in hopes that the sound coming out of her mouth would stop the sounds in her head. She couldn't get anything out and that sent her into a panic.

Clothes and fire, that's what she needed. The sun had started setting and it marked the third day they had spent on this project. Petunia broke off the tiniest piece of chocolate and the warmth it offered was glorious. There was no way she was going to be able to it again the next day, not with how poorly it had been planned out.

"Meeting in the sitting room."

The sonorous sounded like a whisper. Petunia got dressed and tied a pair of trainers on her feet. There was no way she would be fine to sleep without a run, not tonight.

Petunia grabbed a chocolate frog from the pile in the sitting room. It was juvenile chocolate but not bitter which was mostly what Damocles liked and therefore stocked in his home.

"We can't be sitting in the room with a Dementor without a Patronus," Damocles said. The circles under his eyes washed him out.

There was a rustle of papers ordering themself and the pages of Petunia's notebook were filled with Domacles handwriting.

"Well then conjure one," Petunia said snappily. The thing with bad moods is that they never stayed with just one person. "I can't. I can't spend another hour with constant exposure."

"Then how do we separate a Dementor's cloak, Petunia?"

"I don't know, but knives aren't cutting through it and no one in Knockturn is willing to touch it with a ten-foot pole. I asked." Petunia added, Gaunt would always ask if she asked.

"What did you try," Gaunt's voice sounded frantic.

"It doesn't matter what we try, without a Patronus, I can't do another hour in that room either."

Petunia hadn't expected that from Damocles. The cloak is what gave Dementor's power. Most dealers cut it into tiny strips and sold the bottles for hundreds of galleons. Dementors didn't mind giving people scraps of their robes for the smallest taste of their emotions. In all of Wizarding Europe, there was only one person who could acquire a whole cloak and cut it without asking and Petunia dreaded the next words.

"You are going to go to him and asks how he does it. I don't care if you have to beg, borrow or sell yourself for it, you will get it done."

Petunia had to hold back a scoff. Like hell, she would go there. If the Dark Lord wanted the cloak cut so badly, he had enough power to go himself. She couldn't stand the tension anymore.

"I'm going for a run."

Runs seemed to attempt to solve a lot of things these days. The running seemed to get rid of the chills and shivers; however, her mind mulled over the horrors that the Dementor made her see. She couldn't anymore, not like this, not with this type of Magic.

It was like they had never moved when Petunia walked in with terrible beer and a pack of cigarettes. She threw both on the table and sat in front of the fireplace. She opened one, almost cursing the fact that she promised Jean that she wouldn't seek out a dealer in this village.

"Can either of you even cast a Patronus?" she asked.

Both men's faces changes. Petunia knew men, they didn't like to seem incompetent which now seemed to be an unfortunately universal truth.

"You need a strong happy memory for it," the Dark Lord said.

Petunia laughed. She didn't mean to, but there was something incredibly tragic, too tragic in fact, about two grown men not having a single happy memory between them. "That is so sad. Have neither of you had earth-shattering sex or been so high that the sky called you-"

"Do you always equate the best experiences in your life to sex or drugs? It's terribly crude."

Petunia rolled her eyes, "I'm not the one who can create a guardian with those experiences. Because let's be honest, we would not be having this conversation if I was the problem." She gestured to the beer. "It's muggle stuff, but drunk actions are sober thoughts. So, if we are going to get to the bottom of this, I need you to be at least tipsy."

"Ok, let's live vicariously through you. Why potions?" The Dark Lord asked.

Petunia got comfortable. Her back against the fire and if she closed her eyes, she could pretend that this was like any other evening with Jean.

"I asked Dumbledore to let me into Hogwarts. I sent letters, what felt like a million letters, begging him to let me in and obviously he refused. I was horribly naïve to think I was special in that sense, so I threw myself into life at Cokesworth before Eileen took pity on me. She showed me how to create magic to use my normal hands and create something glorious. There is something that people don't tell you. Creation is better, way better than most intimacy." She finished her bottle and grabbed another one along with a chocolate frog. It wasn't a deep secret, there were other secrets in her life that didn't need anyone else's ears listening to them.

"That does nothing for me. So you're going to Nuremguard tomorrow, bat your eyelashes and get Grindelwald to tell you how he did it," Damocles said

"Information doesn't work like that. People need to either like or fear you to give something off themselves." They all knew that. "Besides if we are talking about eyelash batting, that's your area of expertise."

There was a sound of utter frustration and the fireplace flared up, Petunia jumped out of the distance of the flare, but the smell of burnt hair filled the room. It was enough, Petunia had tried to be amicable to the entire thing, but a small misstep made her feel like her life was in danger.

That was a lie, her life had always been in danger and she was only just realizing that the glory of a brilliant potion discovery was probably not worth it.

One didn't just get a pass into Nuremberg by batting one's eyelashes. There was a due process and that process wasn't open on the weekends. Regardless of the money that Petunia had promised to throw at the guards.

Damocles had Petunia working on drafting the final bits of the research paper to be handed into Potion Committee, it would be up to them to run the trials and then decide who got to access the potion and how. While he went to bat his eyelashes to get stuff done. Neither of them mentioned the Dementor that they had chained to the corner of the potion room.

The deadline was looming over both of them. Petunia dipped the quill back into the ink, she had put on her work overalls. Ink always got everywhere and the dark, stained material held up against the ink much better than her blouses did. She was terrible at writing with a quill and Damocles believed it was bad luck to write articles in fountain pen. There were too many things that could go wrong without the energy of someone believing in bad luck, they couldn't afford to have anything go wrong.

The house was empty apart from the howling and angry noises the Dementor made. There was still no Patronus, which was really sad, two wizards (both arguably powerful) and neither of them had a memory happy enough to cast a Patronus.

The evaluation would take place in a week over the next month. Four potion masters, randomly chosen from around the world would test their potion from every angle and should they not reach the same conclusions as the ones stated in the paper Petunia was writing, the potion itself would be named void. St Mungo's themselves had put a lot of money into Domacles pocket to make it work. Or that's what Odgen had told her when Petunia went to get the Belby's monthly order of alcohol.

Petunia kept concentration as the doors opened. The rune she was drawing was a complicated one, Eileen had been better at her when it came to drawing Runes, which she attributed to learning Arabic as a child. The rounded shapes and straight lines of runes were a struggle to get perfect and her fingers wanted to shake with the effort.

Runes in blood were so much easier to etch, even those with a knife, but runes that didn't belong on paper with ink, now those were the tricky ones. Many writers of Runes and their dozens of derivative languages, had written about the nature of runes and the warnings always were to be remembered. To be fluent in one didn't mean you were fluent in them all.

The Dementor howled in the distance and Petunia's heart chilled at the sound. She didn't know for how long she would be able to ignore the sounds. Earlier in the day she had stood at the door with silver in her hands as if she was preparing to deal with Fenrir as if the sight of silver could make the Dementor leave her alone. Petunia heard of men drowning themselves as sirens beckoned them, she had never heard the same from a Dementor.

Without noticing it she had left the desk and stood in front of the Dementor. The room didn't get any warmth of the summer sun streaming in. Cold, with a heavy cloak of sadness, that was a shackled Dementor. What Petunia didn't expect was instead of screams for the Dementor to talk to her.

"You are they speak of," the voice pitched high, like a whisper straining to be heard against a windy day.

"They?"

"The one who I give my cloak too."

Her teeth chattered as she noticed the cold. A strange realization to have. The Dementor knew what she wanted, then why weren't they giving the cloak to her?

"Then please give it to me." The added politeness was not meant to be taunting. But the Dementor laughed and then drifted closer as the chains would allow.

"Stupid vermin, thinking polite thoughts could get you anywhere. Let's see where you are, shall we?"

Petunia's soul dropped, the obvious answer would be to leave, but there was something holding her right here. Dementors tended to hunt and feast in packs, however their love for human souls, especially wizarding ones made them selfish. The fog clouded her senses and before she could run, every thought and insecurity that Petunia had ever experienced was brought to the forefront of her mind. Her throat was too hoarse to scream.

Memories muddled into other things, the fantasies in her head started rising and like a wave, it crushed down. Cold, so incredibly cold and then light. Light so sharp that Petunia's shut eyes couldn't keep it out.

"Open your eyes Petunia, I didn't raise you to crouch like that." It couldn't be Eileen's voice because she was dead, her pyre was burning in front of Petunia.

Petunia didn't believe in angels and when she opened her eyes all she saw was the stone wall of the potion room, a Dementor in the corner and Fiendfyre barrier on the floor.

Chapter Text

The factory shift was as brutal as usual. They were definitely making her work for all the time off they had given her during her exams; which Petunia wished she could say that she didn't mind.

She did mind it though. They needed the money now more than ever. Lily was coming back home for the summer in two weeks and their father had lost his job. Petunia hadn't been back to Cokesworth since she had heard the news. Her father was cursing up a storm every night and for all his airs, he wasn't worth much without a job. They both knew it.

Petunia was already at her wit's end for most of the day. Vernon making passes that she should have shrugged off and they were only two days off from meeting Grindlewald. A decision was made that Petunia would be sent in. Nuremgaurd didn't want the former Dark Lord to access a wand that didn't have a million limiters on it and Petunia was inclined to agree with them.

She had read books like every else. Secretly, in the deepest crevices of her mind, she knew that was the current Dark Lord wanted to be. That charismatic and so unspeakably in love with Magic that the rest of the mundane and dull couldn't help but follow. Lord Guant was that Dark Lord when he tried to be. The kind of charismatic that Petunia shared kisses in dark corners with and would follow to the ends of the earth.

They had sent out the owls in the morning for the Wolfsbane and her stomach had curled unpleasantly at the sight. Nerves.

There was still the persistence and cold of the Dementor, who sung to Petunia like a siren song. She understood why people were not fine after Azkaban, the Dementor had made it seem that Petunia had wanted it, she wanted to give her soul for him. The wandering had gotten so bad that Petunia refused to keep a key to the potion dungeon with her anymore. Damocles had spent too many nights rescuing Petunia from opening the hatch that the wards refused to let her leave the Cottage at night. Most nights she slept on the couch in the living room as the preparation for the meeting with Grindlewald.

The only upside in all of this was her supervisor decided that Petunia was enough for trade school certification. The company would pay for it and if need be or should she so desire it an engineering university would be on the cards the following year. It finally felt like she was moving up in the world at least on her muggle side because she had definitely maximized all her blessings in the Wizard world and was probably close to doing same in her normal life.

Have you ever felt like you were living on borrowed time? That's what Petunia felt all the time. Like she was moving but not fast enough; definitely not as fast as the other people in her life.

"Do you think we should have sent already carved cauldrons?"

"With what money or time?" Petunia asked. She was genuinely curious about how he would answer. "You've already bottled truth; they can trust you."

Domacles calmed down, he breathed and reached over. "Thank you and I'm sorry about this."

Petunia shrugged it off. His apology would not get him very far today. Not when he had been privy to the conversation she had after work with Jean. Petunia shouldn't have left for the Dementor, she shouldn't have left because Domacles had called. This was something she knew. Petunia should've just put her foot down and enjoyed the rest of the day with Jean and Darren.

She had abandoned them when they had needed her the most. Regardless of how she cried and begged Jean for forgiveness, she shouldn't have put herself or Jean in that position. Where they had to talk over the phone to reevaluate their relationship.

"It's ok," Petunia said because that's all she could say. "I don't want to make that potion anymore."

The bravery she had mustered up to say those words seemed to all go away. She had been thinking a lot about what a potion as dark as the one she had created meant for her soul. Was she damning them all with her actions?

"You're being a child. Pull yourself together. You only have an hour to get him to talk and answer the questions." The Dark Lord pulled out a parchment list of questions that was neatly in bullet points.

Petunia tried not to roll her eyes or grind her teeth. The Cruciatus curse seemed to flow a little more liberally over the last few days. The last few raids had gone badly. Not that anyone seemed to think that what they were doing was wrong. No one seemed to talk on the points that there were mutters about lowering the admittance age to below seventeen.

Instead, she shrugged and took her motorbike keys from its home near the kitchen door. Vernon wanted to meet up and at least there was one person who wanted only what she could give out. Or at least that what she hoped. But before that, she owed Jean a meeting.

"Helmet!" Damocles yelled. Petunia pretended not to hear. Petunia had made the mistake of having the paper out, whose article seemed to highlight what a death trap a bike was. Now Damocles seemed convinced that he would have some Muggle at his house screaming that Petunia had split her head on some road while driving recklessly. While there may be some truth to the statement, Damocles didn't need anyone else to feed into his paranoia about Petunia's lack of safety. Petunia was a careful enough driver.

She checked the tiny storage compartment for clothes, a pair of running shoes were on top of everything and she caught the helmet that came whizzing towards her. Petunia wouldn't look up, Domacles could stew in the left-over bad energy she seemed to generate. Still, he cared, in his own weird way, he cared and that scared Petunia because how could someone care so much yet want you so very dead?

There were tears that needed to be cried and a boy who thought he was a man waiting for Petunia. Vernon lived further than Petunia was used to travelling to. He actually lived in a house, a relatively big one, in a normal suburb. One far wealthier than she grew up in.

There was a dentist office that Jean was working in over the summer. The sun was gloriously warm and Petunia's breath chocked out as Jean smiled and indicating that nothing between them was normal.

Jean never smiled at the people she liked. She took them out to strange corners of the world or underground dance parties. Jean was free, like a kite without a string and somehow she had swept Petunia up in the wind that she was flying on. Without Jean, Petunia could see the life her direction would go. It would look listless and small. Very small and insignificant.

"I'm sorry."

Jean's smile tightened. There were a million things to be sorry for. Petunia had just left and then came as she pleased.

"I don't want an apology, Evans," Jean said.

Evans, not Petunia, not Tuney or a million other variations of her name that indicated some kind of closeness. Petunia messed up badly. She knew what she did wrong because Jean didn't ask for miracles. She asked for the bare minimum. Jean asked for Petunia to be present and with her when she was with her.

They had gone through so much together over the last two years. Still all that seemed to have erased itself in light of Petunia's actions. Maybe this is what Cain had felt like when God had cursed him? A wanderer, an outcast, someone who so desperately needed life to validate their experiences.

Jean wasn't going to ask Petunia to leave Damocles. Clara had spoken about Petunia's job in worried tones to Jean. At first, Jean shrugged off the comments about Petunia's job. Clara was rich and had life figured out from a monetary standpoint. She was in no way someone who could judge what Petunia or Jean had to do in order to keep the lights on or food on the table.

However, the more Jean watched Petunia talk about her job or ignore questions about it, the less comfortable Jean felt. Petunia looked like she was keeping the bad kind of company. People that could make her disappear with a snap of their fingers. They had all trusted Petunia to be smart about it and, for the most part, their worst fears had come true.

"We will support you to leave, you do know that." Jean had only really seen the people who Petunia was a housekeeper for from afar.

Petunia sighed, "It's not that easy. I have a summer contract still with them. I promise I'll leave after it."

Jean held herself back. Petunia didn't respond well to compassion. No matter how well-meaning, that was not the route to take with Petunia. They would have to keep their distance from each other.

"Then when you're ready to leave, just call, send a letter, just don't say nothing." Jean reached out and squeezed Petunia's hand. Her rings felt warm and Petunia pulled away first with a nod. That was it, the end. No big heartbreak or a screaming match that would draw attention to what they were doing. "Also, Vernon isn't worth it, trust me, you'll end up regretting him."

A numbness settled over Petunia as she left Jean sitting on the steps of the dental practice. It was like everything her hand touched it crumbled. Which no one should ever feel like. Vernon seemed to be the only person who just wanted the bare-minimum from her and right now it was all that she needed.

He wasn't the kind of person who would be good at the happily ever after and any redeeming qualities he had weren't for her. Vernon was too similar to stand-offish purebloods she had spent the last two years around. So it may have been that familiarity that helped her stay.

Vernon was not a good man. He was not a good man to her and a terrible co-worker. Petunia hated his sister, her obsession with dogs and breeding reminded her uncomfortably of people who didn't think Jean and Darren deserved all the happiness in the world.

There was something about not loving a person that hit the soul. Maybe that's why Petunia was quiet around Vernon, when he got angry or pushy or grabbed at the wrong place and left marks that shouldn't ever have threatened to appear. No, he was never someone who should have been an option. But he clearly was becoming one because life around him was so gloriously simple that Petunia found herself staying longer and fighting less about being uncomfortable around him.

All relationships have hiccups. Or at least that's what she told herself as she found herself making breakfast in the morning before she left. As if justifying the way he threw a tantrum when she just left with a note wasn't enough. Vernon clutched onto her. It was uncomfortable but they still had to work together and she didn't know how else to leave it.

Vernon didn't like her talking to other people, so she just stopped. He wanted her out of the main factory and more than once she found herself seriously thinking about joining the secretary pool even if that was the last thing she wanted.

People don't change if they don't want to and clearly Vernon hadn't changed his colours.

Chapter Text

The Dementor gave their cloak after a week in confinement. They threw it over Petunia’s shoulders and dissipated into dust with a cackle. Petunia screamed; it was a fruitlessly high-pitched scream that sounded unnatural to her own ears. Every terrible memory and emotion heavily wrapped itself around her, a magic coding itself to her very DNA.

The dementor’s voice was in her head begging her to let go of this. Her body, her aspirations and to give in to the emptiness. There was light, beautiful, clean and antiseptic, the harsh light grew stronger in front of Petunia. The emptiness and hunger stood on the edge of need.

Anything could be better than this need. She cursed the creature and felt grateful to them all at once. It was a brotherhood calling out to join them. To let go of this very small existence and to live. To submit to the ease and to feed. The voices promised her a glorious feast should she join them. To take away the million moments that made her human and Petunia was so close to giving up her humanity.

They would understand? Wouldn’t they? There wouldn’t be any tears if she chose this: as her freedom?

Another voice joined the narrative in her head. Red eyes and a forceful presence telling her to give it up. To give up the cloak and Petunia’s hands pulled the material closer to her.

To give this up? This brotherhood? They said that they would take her as long as she gave it up, as long as she let them have it. Her hands shivered and she pulled the cloak off and stepped away. The voices and the trance. She looked longingly at the puddle of grey material.

Willingly given up and her heart still wanted to join the melody of sadness. The words, drilled into her head from all the reading that they had done.

“I give it up, I give my claim up. I give up this birthright to you. I give it up willingly. I have given up this brotherhood, this glorious brotherhood and have paid the price of my memories. I stand here today as I show of good faith and hand over this legacy to you. May the magic you use it for be fruitful, be glorious, be blessed.”

The magic flowed out of Petunia, the moments of it that nestled itself under her ribs. It was a blessing and the irony was not lost on anyone. Dark magic required the users to pay for it and Petunia knew that if she did not pay it would come back to haunt her. She had to put up her price because even if given up willingly, there would still be a price as dictated by the laws of magic.

“I ask for no harm of those who deem as my own and their descendants of blood, no matter how diluted that claim becomes. Is this a fair ask?”

A beat of silence and a room with just the two of them. If this is what it took to be a Dark Lord, Petunia would have never wished it on her worst enemy.

“The price is fair.”

Magic, a red ribbon tied itself to Petunia’s pinky and then to his and they were tied by Fate itself to do no harm and fulfil promises made. She stumbled back and let the stone of the potion shed bring her back. If it was possible Petunia would have closed her eyes and slept.

The sun was setting and bathed the room in the most glorious colours. The ribbon faded away and Petunia didn’t feel any different for making a magical promise. At least they had a cloak and Malfoy had sent a slip of parchment indicating that he got permission for Petunia to meet Gellert Grindelwald.

Petunia forced herself to stand up and bundle the grey cloak that would not be cut by any tool that they had in the shed. They had the cloak and now it was time to make the potion. Domacles had decided that it would be best if she did it by herself, he would be watching of course.

A potion like this would last for years and they would make a bathtub full of it. The potency would increase based on how long it sat, it would be unbearable in a couple of years. Enough to drive anyone insane in a couple of sips. That was what the needed the Dementors Cloak for, to essentially unravel the thread that held the cloak together. To make sure that every sip held a little bit more of the regret that only a Dementor could pull from a person.

“Apart from the list is there anything else I need to get from Grindelwald?” Petunia asked.

She was looking over the bag she would be allowed to take into the prison. Like most people who knew the story, Petunia felt intimidated by the legend that was Gellert’s reign. Damocles was going through it with her. They had been strict when they said that she was allowed no magical item other than the cloak in the prison with her. The cloak however was allowed to be sealed in a box that was curved with runes so that the emotions leaching off the cloak wouldn’t filter into the atmosphere.

They didn’t really trust her and they would be fools to have; none of them slept that night and the radio station was one of the few wizard ones that played the kind of music that Petunia hated. She wrote her letters in case she didn’t make it out after making the potion. The letters to Tobias, her parents, Lily, Jean and Darren, there was only one place she trusted for them to be safe.

The owl flew from the post-office to Gringotts where Iron Fang would do the rest. Her relationship with the Goblin had been one of the better decisions she had made when starting to work in the Wizarding World. Very little was done without the knowledge of the Goblin Kingdoms and history had shown that she was better of respecting the people who controlled her money.

A week before the Hogwart’s train came back for the summer, Petunia got ready in the morning. She drank the biggest cup of breakfast tea she could stomach. If this was Slughorn, Petunia would have made an attempt to make crystallized pineapple. Charles was a little easier to please with gingersnaps spiced with cloves. Odgen liked regional alcohol and Fenwick needed only her sincerity or an hour or two of her time to help with a potion that he deemed needed a little more feminine energy.

Gellert was only a person that Petunia heard about in stories. Maybe that’s why she didn’t know what to give him. She knew they were asking for a big favour, regardless of how eager he had been to help with it. To her, it felt like a fair exchange to share something with him. At the end of the night, she had given up and just bottled the tiniest bit of Felix Felicis. Her time at the Belby Cottage had been the longest she had access to a potion lab and the potion had been a test of her skill.

She wrapped the bottle in the Dementor’s Cloak knowing that the Auror’s wouldn’t search the cloak itself due to the amount of hateful energy that rolled off it. The potion had cost her a small fortune to make and while it was banned in so many circumstances, it made her really happy to think that a year ago, a potion like this would have been out of her reach.

Only an idiot would go empty-handed to the cell of the greatest wizard in recent times.

Gellert Grindlewald had blonde hair, the kind that looked honeyed in the sun and hid grey well. He held out a hand to shake hers and Petunia was struck at how joyful and warm his room felt. This was the wizarding equivalent of a homicidal dictator, why did his room positive and full of light.

Petunia stuck out her hand in greeting trying not to stutter over any words. There were so many things she wanted to ask him and the list of questions burned deeply in her mind. But there were questions she wanted answers to, personal questions.

Grindlewald was not a hand shaker, he was a hugger. Petunia stiffened and then relaxed a fraction in the hold and he let her go.

“Petunia Evans, apprentice to Damocles Belby,” Petunia said and lifted the case onto the table. She took out the cloak, it still felt terrible to touch it (or be in the same room with the cloak). “This is for you.”

She put the vail into his hands and the liquid gold inside the vail looked happier for the minute. He looked happy, kind of like when the housewives used to get soap and cream deliveries from Eileen.

“You know I’ve heard of you. They all seem to think your some stupid muggle.”

Petunia would have been shocked a few months ago. Her name was associated with Eileen and by virtue of that association, Petunia’s potions were always a topic of discussion.

“The Prince family hadn’t raised a Potion Master that was useless.” Petunia replied. It was true, even though they were practically dying out, Prince’s had raised really good Potion Masters. “So teach me, I’m good.”

He laughed at that. “Definitely a muggle, thinks everything can be solved by their own hands.”

Petunia dropped her eyes to her hands. Those were the hands of someone who lived her life using her hands. It didn’t matter if she playing netball, or working on machinery or washing clothes. Those were her hands and she was ridiculously proud of how far they had taken her. She shrugged. There was no point explaining why she thought his assessment was actually closer to reality than he would ever acknowledge.

“Ok, tell these hands what to do.”

Grindelwald tucked the potion carefully into his clothes. It was probably worth good money and retrieved his wand. There was a clearing of a throat and a sip of water. His voices started in a low hum.

Petunia took a step back. This was Light Magic. Not the way the Ministry classified Light Magic. She tried to not make a sound as the hum grew louder into actual words that Petunia could not pick the origins for. The wand movements were beautiful and slowly, the cloak rose.

The threads began to unravel. Petunia clutched her sides as they started burning. Her cloak was being destroyed and she could feel the pain of the Dementors who had worn the cloak before her.

How dare she do this to them? How dare she allow Magic to do this to them? The betrayal caught up in the fibres and wave after wave of anguish travelled over Petunia. This wasn’t fair, why was he taking what was hers?

She crushed onto her knees, unable to ignore the pain any longer. Petunia tried breathing deep breathes and thinking light thoughts. Nothing worked and the humming came to an end, all that was left of her cloak were threads of pure sadness and soul.

“How long did you wear it for?” Grindelwald asked her.

Petunia looked into his eyes. For someone that old, his eyes were still beautiful. Warm and almost unwelcoming.

“Just half an hour, long enough to bind me and then to give it up,” Petunia said, standing up.

She took a pair of dragonhide gloves and a large crystal container. Every fibre of the cloth was pulled into the container.

“Soul magic is not to be trifled with.”

Petunia looked into his gloriously beautiful eyes. “Good thing I haven’t trifled with it yet then.”

The greatest wizard of their age shook his head. She was just a stupid muggle, what did she know about soul magic.

Chapter Text

Petunia insisted on bubblehead charms (or gasmasks) for anyone entering the room after Damocles passed out the first day from the amount of fear Petunia concentrated into the potion. She had a general idea of what the Dark Lord wanted from her.

They had taken a trip, if one could call it that, to the cave where he wanted the potion placed. The vessel for the potion was already in place and so was the plumbing to draw water from an Inferni infested water source.

She had bottled a milk jug full of the water for the testing rounds.

The potion itself was simple to make. There were no lunar cycles to follow. Just the slow process of extraction, purification and finally testing. It took weeks to extract the fear from the fabric. In those weeks Lily had come back from Hogwarts for the summer and Petunia refused to go home for anything more other than to give her mom the portion of her paycheck that she hadn't planned on using.

Lily was busy as well; she had picked up almost every job on offer and took over the soaps and lotions Eileen would have made over the summer. Lily moved out of their childhood home, choosing to spend the time with Tobias at Spinner's End. Severus hadn't come back to Cokesworth and Petunia knew this because Damocles had asked the house-elf to clean out the last spare room that was open. Severus would begin his apprenticeship with Damocles over the summer, as Petunia's was reaching an end.

Petunia had not spoken to Jean or done anything apart from work. She tried to hide the fact that she may be having a Dreamless Sleep addiction, but without the potion, sleep was hard to come by and even more difficult was sleep without nightmares. It was just a side effect of all the kinds of magic that they had used. She had no idea how to cope without it anymore and that showed when she refused to go to sleep at night because of all the things she had seen.

There was no grace in the process as they collected the last bit of fear and Petunia dropped a bag of her blood into it. The potion turned immediately into a joyful Emerald when mixed with a jug of Inferni water, the colour made Petunia sick. She had only used a drop of the potion. While the potion itself would not be able to kill muggles, it did make them ill and when she took a sip, immediately she wretched it up and vomited into the bucket. A Death Eater was forced to test the rest and Petunia watched with an unhealthy fascination as he was forced himself to finish it. The taste was glorious, burned down a person's throat and then the fear started to build.

God, she was a terrible person for it. For putting someone through this, but at least it was done, with whatever he wanted to do with it. Petunia tried to be angry as she packed up her room when the potion was done. Honestly, she was kind of relieved. It was best not to ask what the potion was for and even if she had lived in the Belby Cottage for most of the year, the area around it still wasn't home.

Summer was over and she had felt a twinge of regret for using it the way she had and for wasting it on a potion. Damocles had asked what she wanted to name it, when an underground potion journal, shared only by those who believed in the purity of magic asked. Under P. Evans, the publication released into the world "The Emerald Potion" also known as the "Drink of Despair". A potion that could only be created under the most specific circumstances.

It was the last week of the summer when the trials came back for the Wolfbane potion. They were getting ready to drop the potion in the cove where the Dark Lord had wanted it. The stamp of approval followed by the following month's potion journal. Petunia hugged Damocles as he screamed in victory. It proved that the Veritaserum had not been a fluke and Damocles was the real thing. He was the next great Potion Master and Petunia grinned at the pride.

They sobered up quickly as they apparated to the edge of the cove. Where the Inferni threatened to drag them down. The potion would work as long as Petunia was alive. It was a caveat that Petunia had created for her own safety. They poured the potion into the Inferni lake and watched the lake turn emerald green. Had it not looked so eerie Petunia would have fallen in love with the colour. There were a bunch of plants filtering the water to make sure the potion did not reach further than the cove and remained concentrated to where the tiny island, with a single marble basin stood.

They took a long way home that night. Apparating to the edge of the village and walking to the rest of the way home. Petunia stopped at the local corner shop and walked out with a new pack of cigarettes, a book of matches and toffee for Damocles who waited outside.

Vernon was there next to Damocles, sizing the other man up. Petunia would have laughed had she not really feared for Vernon's safety. She didn't have it in her to deal with Vernon. Not today after a day of Dark Arts and Inferni. She just wanted to sleep or listen to records with Damocles and enjoy not looking at different cauldrons of potions or working on arithmetic formulas.

Vernon was talking with the booming, self-important voice that he used on most people. She stayed in the shadow until he walked away and only when he stopped looking back did Petunia come out of the store.

"What did he want from you?" Petunia asked dropping the toffee into Damocles's hands before lighting a cigarette for herself. He said nothing as they continued walking towards Belby Cottage.

Damocles wasn't the kind of person who refused to talk about how much Vernon annoyed him. Like most of the men, Petunia had dated in the short time Damocles was in her life, he had, had an opinion on every one of them. Mostly about how it wasn't proper for Petunia to casually hook-up. But usually, it was on the topic of why the people she did write letters to where terrible people.

Damocles reaction seemed to burst out loudly as they sat in front of the fire. Out of habit more than the cold.

It took a moment as if he was trying to find the words before giving up completely. "He's going to propose to you soon and told me to back off. He has a ring and everything. Not a family heirloom, something new, shiny and not you."

Petunia although surprised said nothing and lit another cigarette as soon as she stubbed the previous one out.

"He doesn't love you. God, he doesn't even love the idea of you!"

Petunia wanted to defend Vernon. She really did, but the bruise he had left last week whispered otherwise. "It's easier like this." As if that was the best option.

Petunia was leaving it all for a man and that wouldn't sit well with anyone. "Besides I've done everything you've asked. I can't do more than this."

She really couldn't. She was exhausted, but not in all the ways she usually described the word. Magic was taking a lot out of her. Trying to keep up and sustain it. She lost entire futures over it and she had lost herself in the high until it had become all she was worth for.

Maybe Vernon would be a good thing. That was the lie she was telling herself. He picked the ring, a gaudy homage to money and power. She looked at her hands as Damocles kept yelling at her to see some kind of sense.

"I need you here."

"And I need to be far away from here. You don't like me. Remember, you chose to serve the Dark Lord. You bound me to him and to his cause that goes against my very being. Don't you forget that Damocles Belby?"

Her voice had started controlled and then with all the rage she had yelled. She cursed Eileen for giving her potions and then leaving her. Too much, she had said too much and somehow it felt like she hadn't said enough at all when it came to expressing how she felt. It was the game she was playing with herself and everyone else. Like she knew better and was smarter than she actually was.

"You don't know a thing."

It was irrational and stupid, so stupidly dangerous and Damocles pulled her into a hug. "You are a good enough person Evans, promise."

Petunia shook her head and stayed still. Just breathing the air, the potions and most of all this kind of magic, was something she never wanted to leave. She had to leave with the last of her sanity. Because the history books would never know her name and that should have been enough for her.

God, it should've been, but ambition; as glorious as it was demanded more from her. Vernon was just a convenient excuse and damper to the dreams she wanted to live out. She wanted to go to school for engineering and learn all that there is to know about machines; then she wanted to come home and brew potions for hours on end.

Petunia wanted to drown in work that made her feel worthy. She wanted to dance around a room with Darren or drag Jean out to lunch. Petunia wanted to leave the Evans name behind and this stupidly heavy ring tied her down.

If Petunia was a better person, she would've never left the confines of Cokesworth and been content with just being that. Normal, as much as she craved it, didn't come easily to her. She was the girl mothers hid their sons from. All that she was trying to say was that she was in no way good by the standards of the world.

Those who had loved her for all of that; never forgot to remind her of the burden that came with her love. There was no victory song for people like her and it choked her up as she hugged Domacles tighter and pulled his body down onto the couch. Petunia had done this to so many people over the years, just held them as the emotions she could not process all at once ebbed away with touch.

Her mind spiralled down a number of thoughts that seemed to quieten down with the hands holding onto her shoulders. Petunia looked at the clock, she still had enough time to go out. To one of the very many places that Vernon wouldn't be caught dead in.

Spaces where she could dance with others just like her; or even hang out at one of the very many Knockturn Alley haunts. Then she would get her life together and return Vernon's ring and forget about him as easily as he forced his way into her life. It was either the panic that caused her to sleep or the Dreamless Sleep that tasted like fire whiskey.

Either way when Petunia woke up on the couch, feeling cold, empty and exhausted. She pulled off the blankets and went to fetch the paper in the morning. The muggle one that they got, just to keep informed about village happenings and the like. The Prophet flew in moments later.

She looked at the date on both papers and started with The Prophet. Hogwart's Head and Prefect announcements usually came with this edition of the Prophet and while Petunia wouldn't care, she knew that Lily was in the contending for the position of Head Girl. Petunia shot a quick prayer and opened the pages.

"Fuck." She scrambled off the couch, put on boots and grabbed spare change she kept exactly for this very reason. This was wrong, she had to convince Lily to let go of the position. Not because she didn't want her sister to succeed or to let her have nice things. But this was more than that. The political climate was exceptionally volatile and she had no idea the kind of game Dumbledore and the other teachers at Hogwart's were playing by giving this position to her sister.

The target on Lily's back had grown exponentially. Her hands felt steady as she waited for either Tobias or Lily to pick up the phone. This was too important to wait until she could go down to Cokesworth.

"Hello," Tobias's voice came through the phone. Slightly crackled and extremely tired.

"Hi, Mr Snape, has Lily left for work yet?"

There were shuffle and Petunia heard Tobias yell for Lily to come to take the phone.

"Petunia, what the hell is going on?" Lily asked.

Petunia tried to not think about what was actually going on in her life. She was sure that her explanation was starting to make sense to no one.

Chapter Text

Lily landed her broomstick onto the Belby property. Her green eyes looked at the place critically and then she shivered. "It reeks of Dark Arts."

Petunia tried not to laugh. God, Lily's ability to state the obvious and just not care definitely needed to be admired. Lily wore her working clothes stained from the building sites she was working on. The Ross' were doing home renovations in hopes to sell the property and Lily had been roped into the building crew.

"Are you ready to load it?" It referred to the trunk that Lily had strapped to the bottom of her broom which she threw open and the different divisions popped out. The trunk itself had been one of those expensive purchases that had now paid for itself many times over.

"Are we still not living at home?" Petunia asked. She would take Lily's lead on this. Their father had been difficult to handle since he had lost his job.

"Yep, his behind on the bills even though he has most of our paychecks. I don't get it. It's like when Tobias had given up on all of this but worse."

Petunia gave her sister a hysterical look. How could their father's behaviour have been worse than Tobias? Tobias had taken over at least teaching shop classes. Their father, on the other hand, for all his white-collar experience had very few practical skills.

"He's thinking of leaving mom to find work. Says that between me and you the household should be fine." This was the kind of conversation that letters hindered, sometimes to the detriment of any tangible solutions.

Lily didn't seem happy when she explained her reasoning. Not that it made any sense for their father to be doing what he was doing. Men took a lot of pride in being men and not that there was anything wrong with that, but this had crossed the bridge into a lack of responsibility.

"I need to get going though, I left potions and they won't do well in stasis for more than a few hours." There wasn't going to be any more talk about it just yet because Petunia was coming home and that meant it would be her shared responsibility to fix what went wrong or at least to find some kind of solution.

Lily looked up at the sky and the day grew gloomy with an eerie fog. "Really, Lils, weather magic."

Her sister looked way too pleased with herself. "Just open your window, it should break the ward just enough to allow me to get your things."

Petunia rolled her eyes and she had to agree. She had packed away all her personal potions equipment into her motorcycle sidecar. But Lily's plan was faster and took less effort. She ran up the stairs and barely greeted Severus before opening the huge window. "Ready!" Petunia yelled.

Lily nodded and mumbled a set of spells with intricate movements. It was nothing special. Just an incredibly well-combined set of household spells. Clothes folded themselves into piles by type, then came books, lastly make-up and other personal items. The room then started cleaning itself Sorcerer's Apprentice-style. Weirdly enough magical cleaning always took her breath away. Not that Lily believed or used it much because their mother didn't really believe in them. But it was useful, especially in times like this and usefulness always trumped personal feelings of any sort.

Minutes later, Lily appeared by the open window. She had mounted her broom and wore goggles to protect her eyes from the sun. "I'll see you in a few hours. Also, bring some ink on your way home, I have something I want to try."

Petunia nodded. They needed to talk, have an actual conversation about how they would move forward with their parents. Lily also had questions, lots of them and answers rarely fell from the heavens. Not for sinners like them.

The day seemed to brighten as Lily took to the air. She was probably rushing back to make sure she was on time for some potion or the other. Lily had a terrible habit of doing a million other things when working on potions that were time-sensitive and somehow made it work.

"Was Lily outside?" Severus asked. Petunia felt her heartache for him. He needed to let Lily go. She would never love him like that. Not after what he did and why Severus couldn't see that was beyond Petunia's understanding.

She tapped her bed and sat down on the floor looking up at him. "What's so great about Lily that you think she is coming back like you?"

Severus gave her such a dejected look. "Use your words Sev, I can't read minds."

"In the beginning when Ma and Da just didn't get along and then Lily was there and suddenly, she wasn't."

Petunia had to keep her face blank. "But you did that. I know it's been hard but not all of it is on Lily's reaction." There was a line to balance when talking to a Snape about anything. "You chose them over her and she had to let you go because she could no longer stomach that."

"So that's it. You're defending her throwing away years of friendship." Severus brushed his hands along her stripped bed. This room, barren, held nothing that suggested Petunia had spent months in it.

"Sometimes that isn't enough. Nostalgia isn't enough to keep anything going. People grow and change and all I can do is hope that it's for the better."

Petunia stood up and gave Severus an awkward hug. "I know that this is hard on you. But know that we Evans do look after our own and you're definitely always welcome back even if Mr Snape says otherwise."

She left him there to sit and think. Petunia wanted Severus to get over Lily. It was not worth him being tied over someone who would never see him that way again. Lily had loved Severus and he just hadn't seen it.

Lily loved his crooked nose and potion stained hands. She loved his deep brown eyes and skin that tanned in the sun. Her life had revolved around his too until he no longer wanted it. There wasn't much out there for girls who cried over boys who destroyed them.

Petunia walked slowly around the cottage, doing one last round of checks before going to the kitchen to fetch her helmet. Damocles was waiting for her having a very rare evening tea. This was it; he would remove her from the wards of the house and she would never be able to see or visit the Belby Cottage again.

She took off the apprentice ring he had given her. A once formal element of their relationship and it was time to give it back. There was no place for nostalgia, regardless of how deeply both of them adored it. Petunia wished there were pretty magical words for her to say. Words that would formally separate them from each other would've been useful, but there wasn't. The one time she needed the words written out for her, there weren't any for her to rely on.

Magic was made up of tiny rituals and Petunia would no longer be a part of this set of rituals. The ones that she was taught and made a big part of her life. Instead, those arms opened up and while neither of them had ever thought that they would hug each other. Right now, they did and let the warmness of their bodies mingle.

The funny thing was that Damocles never wanted her love the way most people did. He just wanted her attention. He wanted her to be present at the moment where they sat across from each other. Petunia wanted him to feel the regret that she always did. She had thrown her life into potions and it hadn't paid off. Petunia knew that she shouldn't complain about what happened, but she had been so angry the day she lost Eileen.

"Where did everyone go?" Petunia asked. Belby Cottage was never really quiet, there was always people doing something, mostly planning.

Damocles threw his arms in the air. "I don't know."

Petunia didn't think too heavily on his words. She just dropped the ring on the table. The band was a single solid piece of gold with inscriptions of the Belby house words and had sat opposite her Snape ring, which was in smooth stone.

"Why do you still wear that?"

It had been months of working with Damocles and only recently had he come to talk to her as someone curious about her life.

"I don't really know, I got it when I was thirteen and never let it go. Would you though? Can I even let go of her, it hasn't even been a year and I still expect her to be around when I get home," Petunia said? "I miss her, I wish I didn't but I do and I don't really know how to do life in Cokesworth without her."

"You'll be fine. Like you always tell me. Now go so I can take you off the wards." Damocles said with a smile. "Also don't consider marrying Vernon he's going to clip your wings and pull all your feathers out."

Petunia rolled her eyes at that. There were very few things anyone ever had complete control over and in her experience falling in love was not one of them. To fall was never a choice but to stay there was and Petunia knew that she would fight to stay when it came to people she once loved.

Petunia opened up her palms as Damocles waved his wand around her hand. She winced at the feelings of emptiness and it was as if everything that had touched her memories of Belby Cottage had a little less colour. When she left the grounds, she would no longer form a part of the household and for all practical purposes will never be invited back in. Expulsion from the wards was tinted with shame (or at least in the Pureblood mindset).

The feelings were not tainted as she went away. She still felt the cold emptiness where they had housed the dementor. The late nights and early morning runs. They came gushing in the further she drove away from the village.

She stopped at the studio and grabbed a couple of bottles of ink. There was probably some rune or the other that Lily wanted to work on and Lily had been into inking those workings on skin. Petunia's drives to Cokesworth always took longer than she enjoyed.

Lily had sent rain along the way, and she could always tell when it was Lily's magic that played in the air. To Petunia, Lily's magic was the kind of childhood both of them had deserved. Optimistic and childish. Two things that Lily (and to a certain extent, Petunia) faked well.

They did the put-together, reserved and happy thing until their family broke into a million little pieces in front of them. Maybe that's why Petunia dreaded going back. She would be at the centre of the mess again, now that Lily had a week before she left to Hogwarts's. If she knew Lily as well as she thought she did, Lily would be preparing to walk out of her parent's life. Petunia knew that she should be preparing for the eventuality of doing the same.

Chapter Text

The Hogwarts train had left the station three weeks ago. Lily was not on the train, instead, she had sat next to Petunia, in the church, they had grown up in, trying to make sense of the two caskets in front of her. Tobias had insisted they bury the empty caskets, even though there were no bodies for them.

They had gotten comfortable with the idea that they were invincible. Not that the idea acted as a balm. There was a screaming match every day, every conversation with Lily felt like an analysis, micromanagement, and had put every interaction after Eileen's death under a microscope.

"I asked specifically for an Unbreakable." Petunia tried to defend.

Lily scoffed at that. "You asked he-who-must-not-be-named to honour a promise after you working with him for months."

The promise was more than that, it was an oath and there were always severe repercussions for breaking one.

"I don't want to talk to you Petunia. I can't. You flew too close to the sun and you knew it."

That statement didn't help Petunia's anger at all. The last three weeks had been trying to say the least. Neither Petunia nor Lily had a head for money. Numbers, yes, but money was a whole different kind of language that no one in their family spoke well. Their house might have burned down but their postbox still worked. Between creditors, an illegitimate child and trying to tie down the estate, there wasn't much to go between Petunia and Lily.

While both had savings, it wasn't enough to keep them floating. Not if they wanted to pay off everything their father had owed various unsavoury characters. Petunia still had her trunk of potion supplies and Lily set her sights on James Potter. Severus had messed up one too many opportunities and Lily would never love him back the way she had wanted to before.

If they were smart, it would be fine. They would be fine, safe and protected.

"Trust me," Lily said. "You focus on things this side and I'll sort it out in the magical world."

Petunia couldn't trust Lily. It wasn't her pursual of James that worried Petunia. Beauty was just another arsenal in Lily's toolkit of survival. It was that Lily thought the best plan of action was to go back to Hogwarts and begin the process of revenge.

They didn't have enough power between them to have another target on their backs.

"I don't want you getting messed up with whatever Dumbledore has planned. He defeated Grindelwald and that man didn't give me the best impressions."

Lily looked up from her charm homework at that. "He was a mass murderer with a pureblood agenda. He shouldn't have given you the best impressions."

Petunia nodded, he should've, but he didn't and that seemed to be all the difference in her eyes, Gellert was the only one who probably understood what wearing the dementor's cloak had done to her soul. "You know I hate you." Petunia said those words casually. Not caring for the effect or the wince.

Lily, to her credit, didn't look surprised. "So is this where we say goodbye?"

"After this year, I have no legal obligation to look after you. Tobias said that he'd take care of the rest and I'll sort out the debts. But it's doing us no favours to pretend otherwise."

"I don't want this family to break." Lily's voice cracked, but she held it in.

Petunia sighed. "I didn't want it to either, but we are safer like this and I would do anything to keep you safe. You know that."

"Does that still mean you hate me?"

"You know I love you."

Love isn't enough. Both of them could hear Tobias say that. Love was important, but love alone would never be enough. Not when it was that same love that pulled them apart.

"I can't believe you took his word for it."

Petunia couldn't reconcile the fact that she did take his word for it. She was smarter than that. More self-aware than that. "The Magic took, I swear it took."

Lily tried to believe that this was the case. Petunia always knew when Magic took and it was unusual for her to be so very wrong about it.

"Has anyone said anything about that?" Lily asked

Petunia's thoughts took her right back to coming home. The rain had fallen with increased ferocity as she had gotten closer home. Then she saw it. Death Eaters, a dozen of them with black robes on brooms, cackling and aiming spells at the house she grew up in. These were the Death Eaters' she had patched up on Belby's coaches. It was her fault for expecting loyalty from those who were only loyal to themselves.

Lily kept casting spells. Petunia jumped off her bike and began to run towards her home, pushing away the crowd. Mr Abdul was petrified and Tobias seemed to be attempting to control the crowd. They had come out with their guns and Petunia knew it would be useless. Every gun ever made had a rune placed on it, rendering it useless around magic and the air tasted of concentrated magic.

Ross grabbed Petunia's waist before she could run in any further. "Stay, I don't know what your sister is doing but I don't think you're as invincible," he said with a growl.

Petunia wished that punching his ribs to let her go was the worst thing she had done. There was an iciness to Petunia's skin that did not exist before and hunger that could only be satiated by being up there. She was no longer walking on the ground.

The grass underneath her iced over and Petunia hovered for a minute before just letting everything go.

Eat

Eat

EAT

Oh, the glorious taste of despair and souls. She could taste it. Normal spells seemed to have no effect on her or if they did, she didn't feel them. The Fiendfyre that was eating through her childhood home should have made her stop her actions. But she was so hungry. So very hungry and there were souls up there to feast on.

It was Lily who pulled Petunia down before she could devour the second soul. She had tied Petunia's soul with hers and Petunia's arm was bloody with hastily carved out runes to keep her aware. Lily had stabilized the body, someone had set a Killing Curse on. Petunia looked back and their childhood home was no more.

Petunia had been spending every spare moment that she had with the Goblin's and without he-who-must-not-be-named, she no longer had access to Gellert to ask him any questions about what was going on with her.

Wearing silver stopped the need to devour and Lily had tattooed runes in the spaces of the vase tattoo on Petunia ribs to try and contain the hunger. Normal food tasted like ash to Petunia and every sense she ever had felt like something grating against her. Living felt like a chore, a part of her ached for her Brotherhood even when the stone of the Snape ring kept her aware of her responsibility.

"No one else can know Lily." That's what Tobias had said. He had firmly done the adult thing he should have done long ago and neither girl complained. They were drained financially and emotionally. They needed an adult and were more than willing to let Tobias take the need. For all his flaws, Tobias was probably the best parent Lily and Petunia had.

For a year it went on like this. Petunia furthering herself from her sister to try and figure out what the darkness in her meant while Lily joined the Order the moment she graduated. Somehow, they decided that the best way to deal with everything was not talking about it.

They didn't talk about it when Petunia married Vernon. They never said anything when Lily wrote a short note telling her that they were in hiding and Lily was pregnant with her son.

Petunia thought she knew loneliness. No one told her how much worse it felt when the only person you ever loved was hiding because of a mass murderer you helped create. She tried so hard to be small but sometimes the hunger got too much. Especially in the early days with Dudley. Petunia knew she wasn't cut out for motherhood and the child she had birthed proved it.

Dudley was like Lily when Lily was a baby. Loud, demanding and so obsessively had become her whole world. Petunia had felt terrible. Vernon's family had too many opinions and his made sure that the people Petunia cared about had no access to her. She was too tired and hungry to see the signals. Instead, she dreamed of devouring the souls of people.

Their normal suburban house was infested with Dark Magic. It leached of Petunia in swarms and even those who weren't sensitive to Magic felt the difference. Number 4 was the house that gave off bad feelings, a clinical house with a couple and a child that reeked selfishness.

Still, that was the exact reason why the runes around her house were the strongest and that Halloween, Petunia felt the he-who-must-not-be-named fall. Simultaneously her soul was ripped and she knew that he had gotten a hold of Lily. That evening as Dudley kicked her demanding sweets, she tried to find a copy of the Prophet, hoping that what she was reading wasn't true.

She should have prayed harder and prepared better with her sister. The sound of a motorcycle, her motorcycle and the cry of a child in the morning. Harry Potter had come to her and his magic smelled of molasses and mint. The man she had loved and the sister she loved more than herself.

The Magic around the house flared and Petunia knew she wouldn't be able to protect Harry from her own evilness but hoped he would find enough hope to survive. Petunia made sure that the Gringotts account she had given Lily was transferred to Harry's name. He would at least have an easier financial start than her sister did in the world of magic.

Survive, the boy did and when he had conquered Death, Petunia told him the story of two girls and the naively reckless choices that had brought them all here and forever changed the course of Wizarding Britain.