Like Magic

Chapter Seven

The train ride back to Kings Cross was very different from the ride to Hogwarts. First, they were on a Muggle express train from Edinburgh to London, and not the Hogwarts Express. The compartments were smaller and far more uncomfortable, and the glass windows were dirty and smudged. The train was quite crowded, but Mrs Pettigrew had managed to find an empty compartment towards the rear of the train, and that was where she and Petunia had planted themselves.

Petunia was staring out the window at the rain, but she really couldn't see anything. Mrs Pettigrew sat opposite her, a bit of embroidery in her lap, but she wasn't working on it at all. In fact, she had hardly paid any attention to it since boarding the train several hours previously. She instead watched Petunia, staring forlornly out the window. The girl was
hurting, anyone could see that, and Healing had never been one of Beatrice Pettigrew's fortes. She felt a bit out of her league.

"A dreary night, isn't it?" Mrs Pettigrew remarked. "Even if it were light outside, I doubt you could see anything through that rain."

Petunia didn't speak, or even turn to her. The girl's chin was firmly planted in her hand, twisted to cover her mouth, fingers gripping her cheek.

"It will be nice to be home again in your own bed, I expect," continued Mrs Pettigrew, longing to just take the girl in her arms. And why didn't she? Petunia, normally so sweet and shyly loving, was now cold and quiet, and somehow Mrs Pettigrew sensed that she'd rather not be touched. "Your parents, too, will be pleased you're home in time for breakfast in the morning."

"They won't have even known I was gone," said Petunia, half to herself. Mrs Pettigrew bit her lip.

"Oh, the Memory Charm will have wiped away their knowledge of this trip," she began, but Petunia finally turned from the window, interrupting her.

"No, they won't have noticed anyway," she said firmly. "Mummy would think I'm still sulking in my room, and my father likely went straight to the factory after leaving Lily at the station."

"Now, Petunia, it's been two days! Surely they would have noticed you were gone in that time."

Petunia sunk back into her seat, and her gaze returned to the window. She blinked very quickly. "I don't want to go home."

Mrs Pettigrew was quiet for a moment, trying to think of what to say. "Where would you rather go, then?"

But Petunia didn't answer, and soon Mrs Pettigrew turned to the window as well. She knew exactly where the little girl wanted to be, and they both knew it was impossible.

From Kings Cross Station, Mrs Pettigrew and Petunia took a train to Surrey, where Mr Pettigrew was waiting for them in their car. The sun was rising as they arrived home, and Mrs Pettigrew led Petunia up to the gate to the Evans' front garden. Petunia reached for the latch, and then turned to Mrs Pettigrew.

"Thank you for bringing me home," she said stiffly.

"Come over for biscuits tomorrow afternoon," Mrs Pettigrew said. "We can chat, you and I."

"No," said Petunia shortly. "I'd rather not."

"I only want to help you, dear," said Mrs Pettigrew.

"I don't want your help," said Petunia, and she opened the gate and left Mrs Pettigrew standing in the rain.

* * * * *

Autumn 1972

Mr Evans knew something was terribly wrong with Petunia, but he just couldn't understand what. He knew she had been acting strangely since Lily had returned to Hogwarts, but when he tried to remember exactly how the day went, his stomach turned queasy and his brain went slick, like his thoughts simply glided over the events of the day. Yet every day he watched Petunia go through the motions of living, and he knew that she was in pain. He could see it in her eyes, and he could hear it in her sobs as she cried herself to sleep at night. Once, he'd gone to hold her and comfort her, rocking her back to sleep like a baby.

And without knowing quite why, Mr Evans felt as though he'd wronged his daughter.

"Petunia, don't cry so," he whispered to her late one evening. "Lily will be home at Christmas, that's not so far away."

"I don't want Lily," sobbed Petunia. "And she doesn't want me."

"You don't know that."

"I do. All she wants is that bloody school. She can stay there, if that's what she wants!"

Mr Evans' heart did a peculiar jump, and he tightened his hold on his daughter. "Petunia! Don't say that. You want Lily to come home, don't you?"

"No! I hate her and I never want to see her again," said Petunia, but she didn't sound convinced. "I wish I didn't have a sister!"

"Petunia Evans!" said Mr Evans, giving his daughter a bit of a shake. "Now, that's enough. No matter what happens to either of you, you'll be sisters always, and I know you will love each other just as you have done since you were born."

Petunia fell quiet. "How can she love me when she's a witch and I'm -- I'm not?"

Mr Evans kissed his child's forehead. "How can she not? You are the only sister she will ever have."

Petunia didn't say anything to this, only sniffing into his robe, nuzzling closer. Her father had never really shown much affection towards her, and to feel his arms around her now was the nicest memory Petunia had experienced.

"We'll write her in the morning, right," said Mr Evans. "We can tell her about the trip to London we'll make together to find her a birthday present. Won't that be fun?"

"We're going to London?" asked Petunia, perking up a bit. "Just us?"

"Just us," said Mr Evans. "To pick out a very special present for Lily, for her fifteenth birthday. And you'll be twelve soon enough, as well. That's an event, isn't it now?"

The trip to London for presents was one of the best days that Petunia could remember. She and her father went into every little dusty store they could find, trying to locate the perfect present for Lily, and finally settled on a small rosewood box that had a hidden lock, so that she could keep particular treasures from being found.

"A good thing for someone at boarding school," said the store clerk, smiling, and Petunia nodded solemnly, and didn't respond. Mr Evans looked at her curiously, and once they were seated at the tea shop down the street, he spoke.

"You miss Lily a good deal, don't you, Petunia?"

"Yes," said Petunia quietly. "I wish -- "

"Wish what, love?"

"I wish I could have gone with her this year," said Petunia, not daring to look at her father.

"That would have been pleasant," said Mr Evans thoughtfully. "To be in a new place with your sister. An adventure, eh? But what will be, will be, I suppose."

"Why can't I be special, too?" asked Petunia. "You must know -- what happened to Lily that didn't happen to me?"

"Petunia, you are special," said Mr Evans. "Just not in the same way as Lily. Is that what has been bothering you?"

"I want to be different, too," said Petunia. "I'm just like everyone else: staying in Surrey my whole life, going to school with the same kids, never doing anything interesting."

"Would you rather have gone away to school, Petunia?" asked Mr Evans, slowly.

"I suppose. I don't know. I haven't thought about it, much," said Petunia, poking her crumpet with her fork. "It's too late now, isn't it?"

"I suppose," said Mr Evans, but he was already thinking of something else. "Never you mind, love, we'll find something for you. I promise."

The letter Petunia included in the package to Lily described the little curio shop where the rosewood box was purchased, and mentioned nothing of her conversation with their father. Even so, Petunia wrote to Lily quite regularly, and this pleased Mr Evans very much. But when Christmas came near, and it was time to retrieve Lily from Kings Cross for the holidays -

"No! I won't go, you can't make me!" shouted Petunia, who had managed to hide herself in the cupboard under the stairs, and somehow wedged the door so it wouldn't open from the outside. Mrs Evans stood on the opposite side of the door, fuming.

"Young lady, come out of there this moment," she shrieked, her face growing red. "Your sister is coming home and we shall greet her as a family!"

"I won't go, I won't, you can't make me, you can't!" Petunia's voice was growing higher by the moment, and though Mr Evans couldn't see her, he was certain that she had been crying for some time.

"Violet, let me talk to her," he said, urging his wife out the door. "Wait in the car, I won't be a moment." Once Violet had left the hall, he knelt by the door. "Petunia, darling, why won't you come with us?"

There was a pause, and the door slowly opened, revealing Petunia. Her face was red and blotchy, streaked with tears. "I can't go there, Father, I can't," she whispered. "I don't want to face them, any of them, please don't make me go."

"Face who?" asked Mr Evans, confused, but Petunia had taken his arm and was shaking it, continuing to plead.

"Please, Papa, please!" And it was the "Papa" that moved him, and he ran his hand through Petunia's thin hair, and smiled at her.

"All right, then, darling, though I'm sure Lily will be quite disappointed. I know - why don't you keep all the lights on, and have some hot water for tea ready for us to make her homecoming truly special?"

Petunia brightened and smiled a bit. "I can do that."

Mr Evans kissed Petunia lightly on the forehead. "Of course you can." As he joined his wife in the car, Petunia watched them go from the front window, relieved. Facing James and Sirius and Remus at the station was more than she thought she could bear. The only thing that kept her from locking herself into the cupboard permanently was the knowledge that Peter wouldn't be coming home for Christmas at all - he and his parents
were going to Majorca.

Petunia wasn't quite sure how she felt about Peter. Lily was different - Lily was her sister and Petunia still loved her, though she was increasingly jealous of her. But Peter had been the one to tell her about Hogwarts; he'd given her a wand, taught her every last rule of Quidditch, and behaved exactly as though he was completely convinced that she was a witch, so much so that he'd convinced her as well. Now, she wasn't a witch. She wasn't magical at all, and Petunia wasn't certain if it was shame or anger she felt towards Peter. Shame for not being what he obviously wanted her to be; anger for having instilled in her the belief that she was.

But he wasn't there and Lily was. Lily, who treated her exactly like she'd always done, laughing and loving her, and slipping into her room late at night to giggle over the day's events. Lily, who didn't hide her magic from her, who dared to bend the rules a bit and make glow-stars on Petunia's ceiling Christmas eve. Petunia knew that Lily wouldn't ever stop loving her.

Christmas morning, Petunia and Lily each found matching boxes under the tree from their father. In each box was a gold chain, from which hung half of a golden heart. On Petunia's half was engraved the name "Lily." On Lily's half, the name "Petunia."

To remind you of the other, read the note, and neither girl ever took the chain off.

* * * * *

Spring 1973
It was a late Saturday evening in March when Peter Pettigrew settled down on one of the more squishy chairs by the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room, a book in his lap and a cup of tea by his side. He expected it to be a dull evening. It was the night of a full moon, and Remus was in the Shrieking Shack; James was hidden away in the library looking for books that might help them in the latest Marauder scheme; and Sirius, being Sirius, had barred the door to their room.

Peter was reading his Care of Magical Creatures homework when James appeared at his elbow. "Room," he hissed. "Now!"

Peter didn't even look up. "Sirius is locked up with Megan," he said, turning a page. James reached over and slammed the book shut, and Peter looked up in surprise.

"You want to help Remus or not?" he said quietly. "Come on, I found something good this time."

Peter sighed and followed James up the stairs. James quickly Alohamora-ed the door open, and walked right in. The curtains to Sirius's bed were shut, but that didn't block the giggling and shaking. James walked right over and threw the curtains open, revealing Sirius and Megan in a rather compromising (albeit partially clothed) position.

"Marauders Meeting!" announced James crisply. "Sorry, Meg."

"Oh, all right," said Megan with a sigh, and leaned over to kiss Sirius's ear. James raised his eyebrows at him and Sirius blushed beet red. Megan got out of the bed and began to gather her clothes while Peter tried not to look. He wasn't being terribly successful, and Megan knew it, facing him while putting her shirt back on.

"Put your eyes back in their sockets, Peter," said Sirius, watching him. Peter swallowed and turned away.

When Megan finally left, James dropped a heavy black-bound book on Sirius's bed.
"I've got it," he announced. "There's a potion that will help us become Animagi. It's not complicated, really, but some of the ingredients are a bit odd. Anyway, I thought it might help to read up on it."

"What Megan and I were doing was far more interesting," complained Sirius.

"Shut it, Sirius. No, we have to consider..."

Peter began to tune James out as his mind went back to the image of Megan before her shirt went back on. The sight of a nearly naked female was still lodged in his brain, and Peter lapsed into his favourite daydream of late.

He was going home on the Hogwarts Express, and as the train pulled into Platform 9 and 3/4s, he jumped off. At the end of the empty Platform, stood Petunia, tall and thin and about ten years older, grown into some sort of femme fatale. Her brown hair floated in the wind, caught by a sunbeam; her dress clung to her shapely legs. Her arms were held out to him, and her eyes were filled with love. In them he could see himself reflected, tall and manly, with his own hair rippling a bit in the wind, his white shirt having popped off all its buttons against the strain of his muscular chest.

"Peter!" Petunia said, her voice low and sultry, and he took her in his arms and they began to kiss passionately. When the kiss finally broke, Petunia took his head in her hands, and looked deep into his eyes. "Peter," she said, "Peter, we'll need to nick some boomslang from Professor Warwick's stores. Can you do it?"

"Huh?" said Peter, and woke up.

James and Sirius were staring at him with odd expressions. Sirius looked like he might start laughing.

"Boomslang," repeated James. "For the Mutabilis Potion. Weren't you listening?"

"We have to pick an animal," Sirius cut in. "Something large enough to control a werewolf, or small enough to get past the Whomping Willow."

"I thought we couldn't choose our animal?" said Peter.

James sighed; it was obvious he'd already explained this once. "I found a potion in the library that will help us to become Animagi. What do you want to be, Peter?"

Peter hadn't given it much thought. "I -- I don't know."

Sirius knew. "I'm going to be a Newfoundland," he said. "A black one. Get it?"

"Black dog?" said James. "Oh, right, real original."

"Megan thought it was cute."

"You told Megan! Sirius, we promised not to tell anyone!" exclaimed James. "The more people who know, the sooner this is going to get out."

"And I suppose you haven't told Lily?" smirked Sirius.

"Of course not," said James. "She may be my girlfriend, but she'd still turn us in."

"Some girlfriend," scoffed Sirius. "How can she be a Marauder when the only pranks she pulls are the easy ones?"

"Training the entire Owlery to dump on the entire Slytherin table at breakfast is not easy," argued James, and before long they were deep into a discussion of the finer points of an owl's ability to learn.

This left Peter a moment to think. Lily had shown herself to be excellent with animals, despite her original misgivings in Diagon Alley several years before. Peter smiled as he remembered their first trip to the wizarding world, peeking through the pet store window with Petunia, watching the rats juggle.

"I'll be a rat," he said suddenly, and James and Sirius broke off their conversation. Petunia had liked the rats. "That's small enough to get to the Whomping Willow, and I'll be able to run fast, too, get into small places."

James grinned. "That's perfect. I was thinking a stag, with antlers. Between me and Sirius, we should be able to keep Remus from trouble. Now, about that boomslang - "

Peter tried to pay attention to the rest, but he was thinking instead of Petunia's delight when she saw him in his cute, sweet, cuddly rat form. When Sirius and James began plotting exactly how to obtain the necessary boomslang, he soon forgot about Petunia, and began to plot with them.

Late that night, as Peter was falling asleep, he heard a rustling sound outside the bed curtains. He was jolted awake by a crash, as whoever crept about had obviously knocked over the wash basin.

Peter was sitting up as the curtains parted and Sirius's face appeared. "You awake?" he whispered loudly.

Peter didn't answer, and just glared at him. Sirius didn't take any notice, and sat by Peter's feet. Peter half considered kicking him off the bed.

"Right," said Sirius. "I saw you ogling Megan earlier."

"Kind of hard not to, she was shoving 'em right in my face," said Peter defensively.

"Oh, I don't mind or anything," said Sirius. "But I was thinking, you'd like some of your own, eh?"

"I'm not following you, Sirius."

"Girls, Petey, girls! See, James is stuck on Lily, and Remus is queer, so you're the only one I can impart my manly wisdom on. To. Whatever."

"Remus isn't queer!" said Peter.

"Isn't he? He's never even looked at a girl, and when Celestine Howe from Hufflepuff asked him to the Yule Ball, he turned her down."

"He's not queer," said Peter firmly. "He just doesn't want to impose a werewolf as a boyfriend on anyone."

"What, you mean he could have werebabies?" said Sirius, eyes wide. "Ouch."

Peter crossed his arms and stared at Sirius pointedly. "It is one in the morning, Sirius. What do you want?"

"It's not what I want, Petey, it's what you need," said Sirius. "And what you need is a girl."

"A girl?"

"Yep. I was thinking Veronica Smethley from Hufflepuff. She's pretty enough and Hufflepuffs are fairly harmless."

Peter just looked blankly at Sirius. "Harmless?"

"Well, Petey, you're not exactly an old hand at this -- or maybe you are. Either way, it's a date then. You'll meet Veronica at eleven tomorrow night in the Astronomy Tower."

Sirius hopped off the bed and the curtains fell closed. Peter remained where he was for a moment.

What exactly just happened here? he thought to himself, I don't want to go snog a girl! I've got Petunia at home.

Do you? said another voice. She hasn't written you at all this year. Do I need to remind you what she said when she left?

Peter shook his head, trying to get the voice (which sounded oddly like his father) out of his head. He'd lain awake for weeks remembering Petunia's last day at Hogwarts and her final words to him in the Infirmiry. "I hate you, you lied" had rung over and over in his mind, and he could still feel her hands as she pushed him off the bed. Maybe this girl of Sirius' wasn't such a bad idea after all. Peter was still wondering the next evening as he climbed the stairs to the Astronomy Tower at five to eleven.

"Right," said Veronica briskly when Peter arrived. She was a fairly large girl, dark hair and darker eyes, several inches taller than Peter and a good deal more businesslike. "First things first, off with the jumper."

"Er, sorry?"

"Your jumper! Take it off."

"But - it's cold up here!" said Peter, nervously.

Veronica reached over and pulled up Peter's jumper. He was so shocked he didn't even resist. Veronica tossed the jumper aside and began to eye him up and down. "Hmm, nice," she said. "Right-o, then, where shall we begin?"

"Begin?"

"My, you are a babe, aren't you? Siri said, but I wasn't sure to believe him. I mean, a roommate of Sirius Black's, not even knowing to take his jumper off to let a girl get a good look at him?" She let out a laugh, and Peter's face began to burn. "Well then, we'll start at the top, shall we? C'mere!"

She reached over and pulled him on top of her as they fell to the floor, with Veronica firmly planting her lips on his. Peter's eyes grew wide and his mind flashed briefly to Petunia before Veronica's voice snapped him back to reality.

"Close your eyes, won't you, it's like kissing a corpse. And move your mouth a bit, eh?"
Peter immediately shut his eyes, and opened his mouth a bit, only to discover that the tongue in it wasn't his own. Surprised, he quickly closed his mouth again -

"Ow!"

"Oh! I'm sorry - "

"Your lips, move your lips, not your teeth, for goodness sake. Forget you even have teeth." Veronica sat up, shoving Peter onto his back. "Here, we'll go like this. You're not ready to be on top yet."

Before Peter could say anything to this announcement (he felt a bit like he was being demoted), Veronica had lunged at him again, firmly wedging herself up next to him.

Except this time, Peter felt her hands moving down his arms. To his hands. Then lifting his hands up, to land squarely on her -

"Hey!" squeaked Peter. "I - "

"You talk too much," said Veronica, and intensified her kisses.

Peter kept his hands there for nearly a minute without moving. He was completely, unequivocally, totally in foreign territory, and he was terrified.

"Mm, that's it now," said Veronica admiringly, and Peter blinked.

What on earth am I doing right? he wondered. And then he realised three things.

The first was that his hands were no longer still - they'd begun moving on their own.

Second, that - well - his trousers were suddenly a bit snug.

Third, that Veronica's hands had continued creeping, and were located near his waist, and moving rapidly down towards the reason his trousers were too snug...

Peter jumped up and ran for his jumper. Holding it in front of him, he backed away from Veronica, who was still on the floor, looking a bit shell-shocked.

"Er - thanks," he croaked, and fled.

Five minutes later he was in the Gryffindor Common Room. Sirius and James were sitting by the fire, and both looked up as Peter entered.

"Hullo, that's speedy," said Sirius cheerfully. "You left, what, half an hour ago?"

Peter put his hands on the armrests of Sirius's chair and leaned over until their foreheads nearly touched. "If you ever set me up again, Sirius Amadeus Black, I swear by all that is holy I will string you up by your toenails."

"Went well then?"

Peter blinked. And blinked again. He stood up and began to climb the stairs to their bedroom. He didn't hear James begin to laugh, or Sirius turn around in his chair to face the stairway, but he did hear what Sirius had to say.

"Say, Petey!" Sirius shouted. "There's a nice Ravenclaw girl I think you should meet!"

Luckily for Sirius, James knew how to reverse the Jelly-Legs Curse.

* * * * *

Summer 1973
The Hogwarts Express could not go fast enough. The Hogwarts Express was too fast altogether. Peter wasn't certain which one was true. As much as he wanted to see Petunia again, the closer to London the train got, the more worried he became. Sirius and James had finally had enough of his jumpy anxiety and had left to set a prank on Severus Snape. Remus and Lily were left to deal with him as he jumped out of his seat every few minutes, looking out the window eagerly, and asking the time.

"Calm down!" laughed Lily. "Why are you so anxious?"

"No reason," said Peter, trying to get a closer look at her watch. He thought about his daydreams, and hoped Petunia would look for him first. Suddenly he worried that perhaps he should have stayed with Veronica after all - suppose in the middle of a kiss he choked on his own tongue?

When the train finally pulled into Kings Cross, Peter was the first one out of the compartment. He flew down the Platform and through the barrier into the main Muggle section of the station, stopping to look for Petunia. Lily, close behind him, was quick to notice him scan the faces of the crowd.

"Peter, are you looking for Petunia?" she asked, her voice a bit worried.

"I thought she'd be here," said Peter, confused.

"No, she hasn't come to Kings Cross since last year," said Lily. Peter swallowed hard and clenched his fist. Lily saw it, and put her hand on his arm. "She told me at Christmas, she can't face it. I thought you knew?"

"How was I supposed to know?" said Peter, bitterly. "I haven't heard from her since September."

"She hasn't owled you at all?" asked Lily, shocked. She remembered her conversation with Dumbledore in September, and felt a shiver up her spine. Just then, she was knocked aside by the surge of students emerging from the barrier to Platform 9 ¾, and she fell to the ground. Peter grabbed his wand and was about the hex the offending student (who had already blended into the crowd) when James appeared at his elbow.

"Milady, let me assist you to your glorious feet!" cried James. Lily laughed and took his offered hand, but instead of getting up she pulled James down to the ground with her. He tumbled to the ground over her, knocking over several pieces of luggage in the process, and they both began laughing. Peter watched them, and something in his stomach twisted Petunia should have been in his arms like that. But then, she hadn't owled him at all that year. Maybe this was best, not to meet her again until they were home, on familiar ground.

Petunia was nervous as well. She sat in her room, peeking out her window, watching for the car that brought her sister and friend home. When she saw it pull up to the curb, she ducked down so they wouldn't see her. Her heart was pounding.

Peter's home, she thought in despair. Oh, I hope he doesn't come in. I can't face him, I can't. I told him I hated him, and I never read his letters, and now he must hate me too. How can he want anything to do with me? He thought I was a witch and I'm not, I'm boring and normal and -

"Pets!" shouted Lily's voice from the front hall. "Pets, I'm home!"

Petunia heard her sister thunder up the steps, and in a moment her door was thrown open to reveal her sister, cheeks flushed. Behind her stood Peter. "Well, won't you say hello!"

"Hello," said Petunia, but she could not take her eyes from Peter. Her insides felt odd, she thought she might burst into tears. He had grown and lost whatever baby fat was on him, and he looked much older. He's gorgeous, thought Petunia. But he won't look at me. Why won't he look at me?

But Peter had looked at her, when the door first opened, and quickly looked away. He shuffled his feet and didn't speak, his thoughts in turmoil. She's a kid. Oh, God, she's a kid - I forgot she's only twelve. What was I thinking, that she'd grow up in a year? And I wanted - oh God, I can't do anything about it. I can't say anything to her, what would I say? Anything I'd wanted to tell her, you don't say to twelve year olds. I'd be put in Azkaban for sure. I hate this, and she probably still hates me, and my stomach is turning circles. Why can't I look at her? Peter blinked his eyes furiously, wishing they wouldn't tear up.

Lily was determined that everything would be all right, and did the only thing she knew to do. "Come on, Pets, we can go to the pond first thing, didn't you say it was lovely there now? Peter, do you think your mum has biscuits made?"

The moment was over, and Lily grabbed the hands of her two favourite people and the die was cast for the rest of the summer. The three children continued to roam the neighbourhood, but as a group - not once were Peter and Petunia seen without Lily, and frequently Petunia was not there at all.

This, Lily noticed. And she did not like it at all. The coolness between her best friend and her sister worried her more than she could say, particularly in light of Dumbledore's words the previous year.

"Pets, why don't you go find Peter," she cajoled her sister one morning, several weeks after vacation began.

"I'm busy, Mummy needs these dishes done," said Petunia, and turned the water on so she couldn't hear Lily's voice. Lily glared at her sister and stomped her foot on the floor, and decided to try something else.

"Peter, won't you find Petunia? I think she's in the garden," Lily asked Peter one night several weeks later, while they laid on the Pettigrew's roof to study the stars.

"You have legs, don't you?" asked Peter.

"Why won't you just talk with her?" wailed Lily.

"Why won't you just leave it alone!" said Peter, sitting up. "You've been after me for weeks, go find Petunia this, talk to Petunia that. Maybe she doesn't want to talk to me, have you thought of that?"

"But she does!" said Lily.

"She doesn't act it," said Peter, laying back down. "Let it alone, Lily. I don't want to hear it."

"But - "

"One more word and I'll hex you off this roof. Sirius taught me how, you know."

When the end of summer drew near, and diplomacy hadn't worked at all, Lily knew she would have to take matters in her own hands. In short, she took them both by their ears - literally - and locked them together in the cupboard under the stairs.

"Lily! Let us out of here!"

"Not until you've said more than three sentences to each other!" said Lily firmly. "It's the last day of vacation, and I refuse to play interference any longer."

"You wouldn't have to, we're going back to school tomorrow!" argued Peter.

Lily opened her mouth to answer, and realized he was right. "No matter, you're in there now."

"I'll charm the door open!"

"No you won't," said Lily smugly. "I nicked your wand as I threw you in. I'm going to Mrs Johnson's bookshop for a bit. You ought to have this sorted out by the time I'm back."

Petunia heard her sister's footsteps and then the slamming of the front door. Peter fell back from the grill and sat down on a sack of potatoes with a sigh. "Well, here we are," he said glumly.

"Yes," said Petunia, not quite sure how to continue. She didn't look at Peter. Lily in a bookshop - the combination had been known to take hours.

"Lily will be at least an hour getting back," said Peter, and Petunia smiled a bit.

"I was thinking more like two," she said, shyly, and they fell silent again.

"School begins next week, right?" asked Peter.

"Here, yes," said Petunia. "But I'm not going here anymore. I got a scholarship to Sunbury in London back in May. I'm going to finish my schooling there."

"Oh! I didn't know," said Peter. "That's great."

"I thought Lily would have told you," said Petunia.

"I guess she thought I knew," said Peter, and you could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed.

Peter stared at his feet, and Petunia examined the steps that were above their heads. She remembered the last time she'd been locked in the cupboard with Peter five years before, and had felt so safe. Now she felt as though her world was upside-down.

"Do you still hate me?" blurted out Peter.

"Hate you?" said Petunia, staring at him in surprise. He didn't look at her, and he looked so lost and sad staring at the floor that she felt her heart turn over. "I don't hate you."

"You said you did, after - " Peter's voice trailed off. Petunia looked away.

"Oh. I don't really remember. I was upset," she said quietly.

Peter didn't know what to say. He kept remembering Petunia's face, streaked with tears, and her hands as she shoved him off the bed in the Infirmary. He remembered her bright cheeks and McGonagall's hand on his shoulder, leading him away.

Worse, he remembered laying in bed that night, staring at the canopy, unable to sleep. Petunia's words had haunted him for weeks. And now she said she couldn't remember saying them? Hadn't meant them? A little bit of Peter glowed red hot with anger, but Petunia's small voice diffused it.

"I thought - I thought you might hate me."

Peter was stunned. Hate Petunia?

"No!" he said vehemently. "No!"

Muggles hate what they don't understand, and there isn't anything they understand less than magic. His father's voice, running around in his head.

Put a sock in it, Father, responded Peter.

Petunia was thinking hard. She wasn't certain she believed him. It was too hard to contemplate that Peter might still like her despite her Muggleness. For nearly a year, she'd been convinced that he hated her, and she couldn't possibly unconvince herself of this in mere moments.

The gentle kiss on her lips a moment later broke her reverie instantly. It was sweet, and soft, completely innocent. And over very soon. Petunia hadn't even had time to close her eyes.

As soon as the kiss was over, the door flew open, flooding the cupboard with light, blinding them both. Lily's face shone with pride. "I knew it!" she cheered. "Excellent, you're holding hands, everything is all right again. Come on then, we can't leave you there all day. They're playing Gone with the Wind at the cinema, let's go."

"You'll write me this year, right?" whispered Peter to Petunia, squeezing her hand, and she nodded, still thinking of her first kiss. She did not pull her hand away.

* * * * *

Fall 1973
"Are you sure you want a Ravenclaw, Peter? They talk too much," said Sirius. The four Marauders were huddled around the end of the Gryffindor table over lunch several weeks into the term. Most of the rest of the school was content to ignore them, assuming they were planning another prank. The few first-years who tried to eavesdrop were sorely disappointed.

Peter shuddered. "Anyone but a Hufflepuff," he said.

"Yeah," agreed Remus. "Besides, everyone knows that Hufflepuffs are quiet in the classroom, but once you get them in the sack - watch out!"

"Everyone," said Sirius, smarting a bit. "How would you know, you haven't kissed a girl in your life."

"Superior hearing," was all Remus would say.

"I don't want to shag anyone," said Peter. "I just want - well, I want to get comfortable."

"Oh, comfortable. Is that what it's called now?"

"Is sex all you think about?" asked Peter.

Sirius grinned wickedly. "What, like there's anything else?"

It was decided that Sirius should choose an appropriate girl for Peter, and Lindsay Bones was a good place to start. Peter spent an entire day in Hogsmeade with her as she talked endlessly about Divination, and auras in particular. By the end of the day, Peter had had more than enough.

"Right then," he told Sirius after returning from Hogsmeade. "Not a Ravenclaw, either. Someone quieter, please."

"Quiet, eh, Pete?" Sirius chewed a mouthful of pie and thought. "All right. Next Saturday, Astronomy Tower. Don't look like that - she won't expect you to shag her!"

Celestine Howe didn't expect Peter to do very much in the Astronomy Tower at all, except sit and watch for shooting stars, recording the readings for her Astronomy project. The assignment took complete concentration on her part, and quiet was a bit of an understatement - Peter didn't even breathe too loudly, for fear that she would tell him to hush.

"More active, now? Petey, you're a tough one, but I'm going to get a good match for you yet," said Sirius. "Quidditch Pitch, next Sunday afternoon."

When Peter appeared at Sunday dinner, black and blue from his one-on-one Quidditch game with Kathy-Lynn Bell (a Beater for Ravenclaw, she'd managed to hit every Bludger his way), the other Marauders took one look at him and immediately began to conference on Peter's next conquest.

"Tame," said Peter flatly. "I want tame."

"Okay, how about Molly Bulstrode? She's a bit strange sometimes, but she's not bad to look at."

The other boys just stared at him.

"She's a Slytherin," said James.

"She's not tame," said Peter.

"She's a lesbian," said Remus.

James spit his pumpkin juice across the table as Sirius stared at Remus. "What are you saying?" Sirius demanded.

"Molly Bulstrode is in an intense relationship with a girl from Ravenclaw," said Remus. "I thought this was common knowledge!"

"No she isn't!" said Sirius. "I dated her for a month solid over the summer holidays."

"Huh," said Remus. "That's when Molly and Rachel started seeing each other, from what I hear."

Sirius looked like he might choke on his dinner.

"What I can't believe is that you snogged a Slytherin," said James.

"Only once," said Sirius.

"Apparently that was enough for Molly," said Remus.

"Shut it, Moony," snapped Sirius, still smarting. "I suppose you have a better idea?"

"There's a very pretty Hufflepuff named Veronica - "

"No!" shouted Peter, standing. Every person in the Great Hall fell silent and stared at him. Even Dumbledore was looking at Peter, his mouth turned up a bit as though laughing at his own private joke. Peter gave a feeble little laugh, waved once, and promptly sat down again, lowering his voice. "Not her. She scares me."

"Well, what about Carol?" said James, nodding his head toward a curly dark-haired girl sitting next to Lily. Peter glanced, and but didn't see Carol. Instead, he saw Lily staring at him, with something like disbelief and - hurt? Peter quickly looked away.

"No, I don't - can we talk about this later?" he said, shifting in his seat. "Listen, Padfoot, you just pick a girl for me. Whoever you like."

"Sure, Pete," said Sirius, his eyes suddenly gleaming, but Peter was no longer listening. He was already trying to decide what to say when Lily cornered him later.

It didn't take much cornering. Peter stayed up late on purpose, waiting patiently in the squishy chairs by the Common Room fire. Soon enough, Lily had joined him, dressed in robe and slippers. They sat, curled up in their chairs, silently staring at the flames.

"Why are you going through all of Sirius's leftovers, Peter?"

"Not all of them," said Peter, a bit taken aback. It hadn't been the question he was expecting.

"It would be hard to avoid them all," said Lily. "I think he's gone out with every girl at Hogwarts."

"Arabella Figg?" snorted Peter.

"About a month into Fourth Year," said Lily.

"Celestine Howe?"

"Over the Christmas holidays."

"You?"

Lily smiled. "Not me. And you're dodging my question."

Peter leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. "Oh, Lil, it's .... complicated."

"Try me."

"You're a girl," said Peter. "You wouldn't understand."

"I understand more than you think, Peter Pettigrew," snapped Lily suddenly. "I understand that you say you love my sister, but you're snogging every girl in Hogwarts on the side."

"I'm not snogging them!" said Peter hotly. "What, you'd rather I snog Pets, is that it?"

"Of course not, she's only thirteen!" said Lily, then stopped, surprised. "Oh! Is that it, then? Oh, Peter - you didn't believe Sirius when he said it would fall off if you didn't use it, did you?"

Peter grew very red. "No!" he choked. "Lily! How did you hear that?"

"James's Invisibility Cloak, of course. I was under his bed, hiding."

"Why were you - " Now it was Lily's turn to grow red, and Peter began to laugh. "Oh, Lil - sneaking about in the boys dormitories? And you a prefect!"

"Oh, hush. I want to know why you're seeing those girls."

"Hush yourself! Go ask James, he'll demonstrate." And Peter fell over laughing again. Lily stood up and kicked his chair, which, being very heavy, didn't move, and Lily began to hop around, cradling her foot.

"Boys! Why can't you just say you're snogging those girls because you're randy and Pets is too young yet?"

"You make it sound so awful, Lily."

"It is awful, Peter. Poor Pets, that you're going about behind her back."

"Hardly that," said Peter. "I haven't had a decent letter from her in nearly two years. I didn't say boo to her over the summer. She's keeping things from me, Lily, I know she is, and I - well, there it is. She probably doesn't even like me anymore."

"She does," wailed Lily, sitting back in her chair. "Oh, Peter, you still love her, and she still loves you. I know it."

"You know it?" said Peter, skeptically.

Lily gazed fiercely at him. "Tell me you don't love her! Tell me true."

Peter gulped, and looked back into Lily's bright green eyes. He pictured Petunia looking at him the exact same way - with fire in her blue eyes that burnt deep down to his innermost secrets, and Peter knew he couldn't lie. "I love her. I still love her."

"You see," said Lily.

"How can you be so sure that she loves me?" said Peter, still quaking a bit from Lily's stare.

"I know, I just know," said Lily. "She loves you, Peter, she really truly does. She just doesn't know how to show it yet."

"I don't either, Lily. And I want to learn how. That's why I'm going with these girls. I've got time before Pets is old enough to speak to, and I want to do it right."

Lily was quiet for a moment. "I don't like how you're doing it, sneaking off into the bushes!"

"I don't want to go into the bushes with them, Lil; Sirius is sending me there. And I'm not shagging them, I'm just spending time with them, figuring out how to talk to a girl."

"I'm a girl, and you're talking to me."

"That's different, you're like a sister. I couldn't say anything to Pets this summer. I've changed. And she's still a child. I have to wait a bit, Lil, but this way I'll be ready when it's time."

Lily sighed. "You really do love her? I mean forever and always?"

"Yes," said Peter, completely certain. "I'll never want to be with anyone else."

"I won't tell her about your girls," said Lily. "She wouldn't understand. Goodness, I don't quite understand."

"I'll tell her myself," said Peter. "Someday."

* * * * *

Summer 1975
The summer before Lily and Peter's final year at Hogwarts began much the same as any other. Lily and Peter were met at Kings Cross by Mr Evans and Mr Pettigrew, and were greeted by the rest of their families on their return to Surrey.

Peter looked for Petunia almost immediately, hoping that by now she would have grown up enough for him to speak to her, and once again he was disappointed. It was not that nearly fifteen-year-old Petunia was not pretty, or had not managed to grow up at all. It was that every time Peter looked at her, he still saw a twelve-year-old girl standing there.

And Petunia knew it. She felt it in the way Peter would ruffle her hair and the way he'd look away at times, his face growing red. Worse, she knew that he was attracted to her. The first time they'd gone to the pool that summer, she'd worn the two-piece suit that Lily had persuaded her to purchase. Peter had jumped in the deep end of the water the moment Petunia had left the changing area, and hadn't gotten out until she'd left the water.

Petunia could imagine only one reason why Peter didn't act on his very obvious desires, and the knowledge cut her like a knife. He doesn't want anything to do with a Muggle, she thought glumly when he'd turn away from her. All those things we talked about before, how he'd take care of me and protect me, those don't mean anything now that I can't do the same for him. And she would try to pretend it didn't matter, and ignore Peter in turn, pretending to be happy without him.

Peter saw her false cheer, and thought it real. So he tried to stay further away from her, determined to give her some space, hoping that she only needed a bit more time before she would come back to him. And he missed her terribly. It hurt to be away from her, and so he spied, watching her as she went back and forth to the library, asking Lily pointed questions about Petunia, and finally using an eavesdropping spell late at night. Peter heard Lily and Petunia giggle to themselves when their parents were asleep, usually about boys. Lily would tell Petunia about James, and kid her about Peter, but Petunia never took the bait, instead wanting to discuss boys she knew in school.

"Pets, don't you like Peter anymore?" asked Lily finally one night. It was August, and within a few weeks Lily and Peter would be leaving for their final year at Hogwarts.

Peter pressed his ear against the window, though it didn't improve the effects of the spell in the least.

There was a pause. "It's different," she finally said. "I like him, but not in the way you mean, I think."

Peter released the spell, and crawled under his covers. He decided not to listen in on conversations any longer.

But Lily didn't stop there. "I don't believe you," she said to her sister.

"You mean you think I'm lying to you, is that it?" asked Petunia, growing a bit upset. "Why would I lie to you?"

"I think you still love Peter Pettigrew, that's all, and you just don't know how to show him," said Lily. "He still loves you."

"That's the lie," snapped Petunia. "He doesn't love me. He doesn't even speak to me."

"He kissed you once," said Lily.

Petunia gasped. "How did you know!"

"I saw, before I opened the cupboard door," said Lily, smugly. "I peeked through the grating. Of course he loves you, Pets."

"He's never kissed me since, and it was years ago," said Petunia. "He's never said anything about it, even. It's like it never happened."

Lily was quiet for a moment. "Do you still love him, Pets? Tell me true."

Petunia rolled over onto her back, and stared at the ceiling. "I don't know. Maybe. Yes. I - I sometimes think he hates me."

"But why?"

"Because I'm a Muggle," said Petunia flatly. "He can't marry a Muggle, he's going to be a great wizard someday."

"That's ridiculous," said Lily. "Wizards marry Muggles all the time."

"Not Peter," said Petunia. "He shouldn't have to marry a Muggle. He should marry a beautiful witch and have wonderful magical children and live somewhere wonderful and magical." She began to sniff, and wiped her eyes with her arm. Lily leaned over and put her arms around her sister.

"Silly Pets," she whispered. "Peter will love you for the rest of time. He won't marry anyone but you, you'll see."

"I wish I could believe you," said Petunia.

"I know it," said Lily, and the two girls fell asleep.

* * * * *

Elsewhere in England:
His eyes narrowed in thought. His fingers, pressed together, tapped softly. He looked toward the door, waiting for it to open and reveal his visitor. He knew who it was already.

The plans were ready. All he needed was this one person, the key to his scheme, the executioner, as it were, to set the ball rolling. And she would set balls rolling, he had no doubt about that. The thought made him smile, a very thin smile that showed no teeth and very little lip. His smile grew harder, but no less thin, when the door opened to reveal a mere slip of a girl, blonde and beautiful.

An understatement, to be sure - she was likely the most lovely creature ever created. Her skin was softly glowing. Her eyes were the deepest blue, like velvet cushions. Her golden blonde hair shimmered in the smoky light, and the curls bounced around her shoulders as she walked towards the dais where the man sat. She was the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts School, and she was about to become his most valuable servant.

"You sent for me, Master?" Her voice was young, and full of life, but here she kept it low and respectful. Though grown men had quaked in his presence, there was no fear in her voice. She was cool, calm and utterly collected, and focused her gaze on the floor at his feet.

"I understand that you are seeing one of my most treasured servants," said the man. He rose and glided to stand before her. She did not even flinch at his nearness. "He speaks well of you."

The girl said nothing to this, although for half an instant she glanced upward. The man thought he could see something resembling emotion in her eyes - fear, or concern, perhaps, for her lover?

"It is public knowledge that you are a couple, I understand?" continued the man.

"Yes, Master," said the girl. "It has been, for about three years now. But I have not heard from him in several months." Though still calm, he could sense the strain in her voice; clearly, the separation and lack of communication was difficult.

"I have sent him elsewhere," said the man, walking a circle around the girl. "He is on important business for me, and cannot contact anyone while he is away. But don't worry, my dear," and he reached to touch the girl's cheek, caressing it with a finger, "he'll be in London to greet you on the Hogwarts Express at Christmas."

The girl blinked, and held still. The finger still rested on her cheek, and it burnt her skin, but she did not move. "Thank you, Master," she said, her voice cool again.

"I have an assignment for you while you wait," the man said.

"Yes, Master?" asked the girl, her voice growing interested. The man stared at the empty space above her head, his voice cold and taut, his fists clenching with hate.

"He sits in his castle and smirks, and thinks he has the power to stop me. Fool! He doesn't know what power is. Surrounded by his halls of learning and his creature comforts, convinced that love alone can save the world. He alone stands between me and my destiny. He alone is what I have to destroy before I can succeed. You know of whom I speak, girl?"

The girl nodded, and opened her mouth to say the name, but he rested his fingers against her lips and shook his head.

"I wish to strike a blow to the heart of my greatest enemy," whispered the man. He smiled at the girl. "And I wish for you to find that with which I shall do it."

"You wish me to find a weapon, Master?" asked the girl, confused.

"Not just a weapon, my dear," said the man with an evil grin. "You are to choose the one who will not only be the cause of my triumph, but who will ultimately destroy those who oppose me. This weapon will be someone my enemy loves, so by assisting me will betray him. Do you understand me now?"

"A Gryffindor," said the girl slowly. "You wish for me to find you a Gryffindor?"

"You are not a Ravenclaw for nothing," said the man, smiling. "That bumbling old fool thinks the sun rises and sets in his loyal, brave Gryffindors. To have one of them come over to me would destroy him. You, my dear, are to find me a Gryffindor."

"But - which one, Master?" asked the girl. "And how?"

"You are the most beautiful, child," said the man, raising the girl's chin up. "You know how to use your beauty, I expect? Then do so! Find me a Gryffindor, seduce him or her if necessary, and you shall be my most treasured servant."

He dropped her chin and turned back towards the dais. The girl did not move.

"You reward your treasured servants."

The voice was clear and loud, and echoed in the chamber. The man stood still, and turned to look back at her.

"Are you being insolent towards me?" he demanded.

"You reward your treasured servants, Master," said the girl, her chin still high. "I know, I've been told. I wish - "

"Yes?" said the man, a bit impatiently.

"You wish for a babe for your flock," said the girl. "I wish for a babe in my arms."

"You cannot wish for anything from me," said the man, coldly.

"No," said the girl calmly.

"You cannot ask anything of me."

"No."

"You have not the right, nor the privilege, to even consider requesting anything from me."

"No," said the girl.

"Then why? I could kill you right now for your cheek," said the man.

"Because I am the most beautiful," said the girl. "I'm the only one who can do this."

The room was silent. The girl stared ahead, not looking at her master, trying desperately to keep her breathing even and steady. She did not blink, she did not shiver, and she did not stop to consider her words. It had been impulse, it was insane, she was insane, how could she ask for anything? He could not give her, he would not give her, he would likely as not kill her and then find another way to achieve his ends. What had she been thinking? Why had she even opened her mouth? What was he going to do?

And then a noise startled her out of her thoughts. He was laughing. Yes, laughing, a cold and high pitched laugh to be sure, but most certainly laughter. And he was sitting on the dais again, laughing at her, his fingers tapping against each other.

"You cannot have children," he said smugly. "You are barren. You know this."

"I do," said the girl.

"You wish for the impossible, knowing it cannot be done."

"Nothing is impossible for you, my lord," said the girl.

"You have courage to ask this of me," said the man, thoughtfully. "Perhaps more courage than the rest of my servants together. You are brave, and beautiful, and wise. Your lover is beautiful, and fearless, and intelligent. Yes. I will grant you your wish. I should like to see the child the two of you create. That child, I think, would be a most powerful ally."

The girl remained still, but her heart was soaring. Her gamble had paid off. But first -

"My Gryffindor," said the man. "And then your babe. There is work to be done."