Be All My Secrets Remembered

Chapter Twenty-Six: Not With a Bang, but a Whimper

December 1978

Lucius Malfoy turned just in time to see his wife's body hit the ground, and he could have sworn the rest of the world went blank. As he ran forward, shoving aside anyone in his path, the shadow at the top of the stairs vanished beyond his line of sight. Had it been under any other circumstances, he would have pursued.

But not now.

He could feel his mouth forming her name, but couldn't hear himself. Sinking to his knees beside her, the only coherent thought keeping him from screaming aloud was that she was still breathing. Barely, but it was something.

"My God!" It was a woman's voice from somewhere above him, and Lucius glanced upward just in time to see a flurry of green robes as she stepped quickly over Narcissa's prone form and knelt, drawing out her wand.

Lucius reached out, gripping her wrist tightly. "Can you help her?"

Brilliantly green eyes met his, and she nodded. "A little, at least. I'll do what I can. But you need to tell me what happened." She looked so young, barely out of school if that. "I started at St. Mungo's this year, sir," she added, as if sensing his unease.

"I don't know what happened," he murmured, without letting go of her wrist. Instead, he kept his eyes on hers. "Save her. If you do, we will both be in your debt. More than you could ever imagine."

She nodded again, and he let go, forcing himself to stay silent as she began a series of healing spells, with what he noticed to be impressively fluid movements and more confidence than he might have expected from someone who had only just begun working at St. Mungo's.

"Lil!" Lucius' head snapped round as a young man in red dress robes came running toward them. "Malfoy? What the hell--?"

Lucius opened his mouth to snarl something about not distracting her, when the witch--Lil? Was that her name? It scarce mattered--pre-empted him. "James, I need your mum. Could you find her for me?"

The young man, whom Lucius was sure he ought to recognise, but couldn't bother to at the moment, nodded swiftly and rushed off. Turning back to Narcissa, he could have sworn her breathing seemed steadier, although it might well have been his imagination.

"His mum works in Spell Damage at St. Mungo's," the young witch explained. "It's a lucky thing she's here tonight. I've the feeling quite a few people are going to need help."

Lucius nodded. "Will she be alright?"

"It would help if I knew precisely what was wrong...I can't imagine she just fell down the stairs."

"She didn't," Lucius said darkly. "There was someone at the top. They must have hexed her, although I have no idea with what. We shouldn't have come, but she wanted to."

"Once Mrs Potter's looked at her, you'll want to take her directly to St. Mungo's. I'd tell you to take her now, except that I'm not sure if she ought to be--"

Narcissa's eyes flew open, and her strangled cry cut the girl off, mid-sentence. Lucius felt her grip all but smashing his fingers, but it was a detached sort of pain, secondary to his sudden panic. "What's happening?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "Can you speak to...I don't know who to speak to...but maybe see about having them lift the Anti-Apparition Jinxes, just on this room? She needs a proper Healer, and I don't know where..."

Lucius didn't need to be told twice. He strode purposefully to where Minister Martindale was surrounded by a group of what appeared to be Aurors. "The Anti-Apparition Jinxes," he stated coldly. "Lift them. Lift them, damn you. They've attacked my wife."

He could see the shock on the faces of the nearest Aurors, and he could feel that accursed Alastor Moody staring at him disbelievingly.

"At least call for Healers if you can't do that," he snapped. "You've done little else, after all. Moody," Lucius turned to the Chief Auror, doing his level best to keep the scorn out of his tone, "I need to get her out of here."

A high-pitched shriek from the other side of the room caught his attention, and he turned. The young witch was staring down at her hands, now stained several shades darker than her hair. On the floor in front of her, Narcissa had curled into a foetal position. Minister and Aurors forgotten, Lucius all but flew across the room to the foot of the staircase.

She was shivering uncontrollably, and when he reached out to try and lift her, his hands came away bloody. "What in Salazar's name is happening?" he growled, terror clawing upward so sharply that he could barely breathe.

The girl did not answer, murmuring further incantations under her breath in a voice hoarse with panic. After several seconds, she looked up at him. "I've done everything I can. You need to get her to St. Mungo's."

Lucius nodded sharply, and lifted Narcissa from the ground, ignoring her gasped protests as best he could. "I'm sorry, love," he whispered. Looking down at the red-haired girl, he asked, "Is there nothing...a sedative spell, or anything?"

She shook her head. "We shouldn't. Not when we don't know what's been done to her, I'm sorry."

"Thank you for all you've done," he said awkwardly. He was about to start up the stairs when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

Turning, he found himself facing Moody. "Jinxes are lifted," the Chief Auror told him.

Lucius inclined his head curtly, and Disapparated.

***

Lily stared at the space where the woman--Narcissa Malfoy, her mind corrected, with no small degree of dread--had lain, and shuddered. "I don't know what happened," she murmured. "I didn't do it."

"Of course you didn't," Alastor Moody's rough voice replied, as the Auror raised her to her feet. "It was a Death Eater hexed her. With what, I have no idea, but it knocked her down the stairs. It had nothing to do with you. In fact, I imagine you saved her life. Not that he deserves even that."

She opened her mouth as if to argue, but looked at his face and thought better of it. Of course, he hadn't seen---but it didn't matter. "Scourgify," she murmured, pointing her wand at one hand, and then the other. Even as the blood vanished, she could still feel it, sticky and moist, on her skin. She shuddered. "If I didn't know better..."

"What?"

"Nothing." Lily shook her head. "You've not seen Ja---James Potter, have you?"

Moody just looked puzzled. "Who?"

Of course, James wasn't an Auror yet. And even if he had introduced himself to Moody at the Order meeting, there had been a fair number of people there, after all. "Or...Mr and Mrs Potter?" she ventured. "His parents?"

"Not recently, I'm afraid," he said. "Not since before the attack."

Lily glanced round. People were beginning to trickle out of the side rooms, some wounded, some carrying... "It's awful. How could this have happened?"

Moody shrugged. "Underestimation. Martindale will need to answer for it, and I can't imagine how he plans to do so." She followed his eyes across the room to where the Minister was standing, almost cowering behind a nearby Auror as he spoke to a dignified-looking older woman. "Millicent Bagnold. Head of International Magical Cooperation," explained Moody. "She's been criticising his methods for at least three years now."

But Lily barely heard that last remark, as she caught sight of James emerging from one of the rooms on the other side of the hall. Barely pausing to wave to Moody, she ran toward him, only to stop short at the expression on his face. "James, what happened? Are you...?"

"I'm fine," he replied. His voice was shaking, and he had grown very pale. "Lil, don't go in there."

Naturally, this did not help her calm down. "Why not?"

"Please." He grabbed both her arms. "You don't want to see--"

"Who's there, James? Where are your parents? It's not...?" Her eyes widened. "Oh no. Tell me it isn't them!"

James shook his head. "I haven't found them yet. I found... It's Professor McKinnon. And his wife...and all three children. Lil, please, don't go in there."

"Are they...?" She didn't want to say the word.

"Dead. All of them." The words emerged with no intonation whatsoever, but the slight greenish tinge to James's face spoke otherwise. "I never knew curses like that existed."

Lily forced herself not to ask further, merely slipped her arm around his waist. "Let's find your parents."

They didn't need to look very long. Helena Potter was crouched on her knees in one of the nearby rooms. Beside her, on the floor, her husband stared sightlessly upward.

***

Ted and Andromeda had supposedly vanished, but only into Muggle London, as Sirius was well aware. Thanks to Ted's parents, they had found a flat on a particularly innocuous side street, a five-minute walk from the nearest Underground station. It was taking Andromeda some time to get accustomed to not using magic except with the curtains closed, but in exchange for anonymity, she was more than willing to do so.

Sirius, along with Ted's parents, had keys to the flat as well, and upon Flooing in from Munich at a quarter to seven in the morning, he had little desire to return to the very large pile of dirty dishes--not to mention the food that had almost certainly gone off by now--in his own home. So he let himself in, with the intention of once again attempting to puzzle out the mysteries of Ted's brilliant Muggle coffee-maker.

Instead, the door opened for him and he found himself facing a sleepy-eyed Dora. "Uncle Sirius!" she cried, throwing her arms around his knees.

"What are you doing awake, Miss Dora?" asked Sirius, puzzlement clouding his voice as he closed the door and locked it. "It's far too early for normal people."

"Mummy's awake," Dora explained. "She woke up even earlier. I could hear her. Where were you?"

Sirius could hear murmured voices from the bedroom, but elected to stay with Dora instead, at least for the time being. The last thing anyone needed was a panicky five-year-old. "I was in Germany. In fact," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a stuffed calico cat, "I brought you a present."

"Kitty!"

"There was a real one, and I wanted to bring him back for you, but he disappeared," he told her, seating himself on the couch.

"Disappeared? Did he run away?" Dora, clinging to the cat with one hand, seated herself on his lap. "Was he a German kitty?"

"I don't know if he was a German cat, but I assumed he was," Sirius replied with a grin. "And no, he didn't run away. He went 'poof!' and disappeared. Just like when your Mum Apparates."

"But why?"

"I don't know. You see, I was chasing this strange, mad witch, who liked to collect things that belonged to other people..." He spun out the story, Dora gazing up at him with wide eyes throughout, and was just getting to the cat's disappearance when Ted appeared in the corridor, wand held out. "Oi, Ted! It's just me. I was telling Dora a story."

"He met a mad witch and a disappearing kitty," Dora informed her father. "I want a disappearing kitty."

Ted managed a grin, however wan. "You shouldn't be awake, silly thing."

"But Mummy's awake. You're awake. Uncle Sirius--"

"And what is the difference between you and me, or Mummy, or Uncle Sirius?" Ted enquired, looking sternly down at her. "Come now, what's the difference?"

"Grown-ups," Dora muttered. Climbing down from Sirius' lap with the stuffed cat under her arm, she padded sulkily to her room. The door slammed shut behind her.

"What's the matter, then?" Sirius stood up. "Is Andromeda...?"

"She's fine," Ted interjected with a sigh. "There was a report on the Wizarding Wireless just after midnight. The Death Eaters attacked the Ministry of Magic."

"What?" At Ted's gesture, Sirius managed to lower his voice before adding, "How?"

Ted shrugged. "Who knows? My guess is that they knew someone on the inside, someone who got them in. They've got powerful people on their side, that much is for certain."

"Malfoy," Sirius said coldly. "I'd bet my ear it was Malfoy. He's a slimy git, and he's got far more connections than anyone should..."

"It wasn't Malfoy, Sirius. That much, I think I can assure you." Ted glanced back at the closed bedroom door. "It was the Christmas party. Malfoy and Narcissa were both there, as guests. She was attacked."

Sirius could only stare for several seconds, before finally whispering, "She's not...?"

"Dead?" Ted shook his head. "Not as far as we know. She's at St. Mungo's now. Andromeda's frantic."

As if conjured by the words, the bedroom door opened and Andromeda stepped out, managing a faint smile at Sirius. "I thought I heard you, Sirius. I'm glad you're back."

"Are you going to St. Mungo's?" he found himself asking. "Do you think they'll let you see her?"

"I'm her sister. Of course they will. If they try to stop me, well..." she laughed shortly, "rest assured, they'll regret it more than I will." Then, moving forward, she placed one hand on Sirius' shoulder. "There's more, dear. Your friend, James..." Something clenched in Sirius' throat as Andromeda hesitated. "It's his father. He's dead. Along with...they hadn't even finished counting when Ted switched off the wireless. They even mentioned Professor McKinnon, from Hogwarts."

But Sirius was still trapped at the first name. "Prongs' dad?" Andromeda nodded, and he stumbled back. "I'm sorry, I...I need to go. Let me know what happens with 'Cissa, right?"

"Of course I will," she replied. "Be careful, Sirius."

He smiled weakly. "I do try." Nodding a farewell at Ted, he sprinted from the flat. The sun was just rising, and there were already too many people on the street for him to just Apparate to Hampstead. That being the case, he fished the last of his Muggle money from the pocket of his trousers and made his way to the Underground.

As he waited in the--admittedly short--queue for a ticket, the headline on several of the papers caught his eye. A mysterious train accident just north of Newcastle. Before Sirius could look closer, it was his turn. He bought his ticket and hurried down the stairs as he heard the train pull to a screeching halt. It was just his luck that the gentleman seated across from him was reading the very same newspaper. Sirius leant forward and read the article as they jostled along.

According to the article, the train in question had been travelling from Edinburgh to King's Cross Station. Some thirty people were dead, but oddly enough, only in one carriage. Witnesses described a series of extremely odd occurrences, none of which matched up. Some claimed the train had stopped short, and then restarted. Others claimed it hadn't stopped at all, just slowed down. And, nestled deep into one of the paragraphs, someone mentioned a mysterious green cloud hovering above the single carriage.

The man disembarked at the next station. Sirius was left alone with his increasingly worried thoughts. Finally, noting the emptiness of the station they were drawing into, he jumped out of the train, ducked into a corner, and Disapparated without another thought.

Upon opening his eyes, he realised was that he was lying on the ground. And that it was raining. Thankfully, James's front porch was just a few feet in front of him. Sirius stood up, shook the water from his hair and rang the bell.

"Padfoot!" James pulled him into the house. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing. It's raining." Sirius closed the door behind him and looked directly at James. "I heard about...what happened last night. How's your mum?"

"Lily gave her a sleeping draught. She was ready to stay up all night at St. Mungo's with the other people from the Ministry, but we managed to get her home." James glanced up the stairs warily. "I've had relatives telephoning all morning. Apparently Dad's name was on the Wireless. They keep asking me when the funeral is..." he shuddered. "I've barely had time to take it in."

"I can take care of that, Prongs," Sirius said quietly. "You do what you need to. I'll deal with the funeral."

James managed a smile, fleeting as it was. "Thanks, mate. You really don't have to."

"I know. That's not the point." They had wandered to the dining room, Sirius glancing about in some puzzlement. "Where's Lily?"

"She went to a telephone down the street," James explained. "She's been ringing Emmeline and Dorcas every hour or so, to see if they've heard anything from her parents." At Sirius' expression, he clarified, "They were on holiday all week, and were supposed to take the night train back from Edinburgh."

Mysterious train accident...green smoke above the carriage... Sirius froze. "Prongs, I saw something on the Underground today. A newspaper headline--Muggle paper--about a train accident north of Newcastle. I don't know if they're related," he added quickly, noting the sudden jerkiness of James's movements. "And even if they were, it could mean that Lily's parents are stuck in Newcastle."

"They'd have rung if they were, don't you think?" James asked distractedly, peering through the window, presumably in search of Lily. "Just to let her know they're alright."

Sirius shrugged. "Who knows? And besides, who on earth would go after Lily's parents? They're Muggles. And even if they wanted to, how many people knew they were on holiday in Edinburgh this week? Just you and Lily, from the looks of it, and neither of you talks to Death Eaters."

"Death Eaters?" James was on alert immediately. "You just mentioned a train accident. What makes you think they were involved?"

"The witnesses were flustered, and someone mentioned seeing a green cloud above the train. Prongs, it's probably just a coincidence. Like I said, how would anyone know they were on that train, if they even were on that train?" Sirius cut himself off at the sound of the doorbell.

"That'll be Lily," James murmured, hurrying past him to open the door. "Any word, Lil?" From where Sirius sat, he could hear the growing urgency in James's voice.

"Still nothing," Lily sighed. "Dorcas promised she'd send word by Floo if they did ring. I just wish...Sirius! You're back!"

"Yeah, this morning." He stood up to embrace her. "Are you alright?"

"In one piece, which is what matters," Lily smiled faintly. "Your mum's still asleep, James?"

"I've not checked since you left, but I haven't heard anything. Come here and sit down. I'll have Mopsy bring something to eat." Lily sank into the seat beside Sirius as James made his way toward the kitchen.

Sirius stared at the tablecloth for several seconds. "I'm so sorry, Lil."

"I'm more worried about Mrs Potter," she admitted, glancing toward the staircase. "She hasn't said a word since we left St. Mungo's. Not that I blame her. It's awful. I don't even know how they got in, or who was stupid enough to let them..." She trailed off, forcing a sharp change of subject. "How was Germany?"

"Very odd. I met a mad old witch and a vanishing cat. Lil," he reached out to take her hand, "who knew about your parents' holiday in Edinburgh?"

"I did, Petunia, James, people they worked with...I don't know. Why do you ask, Sirius?" At the expression on her face, she grew pale. "What happened? Did you hear anything?"

"Lil, there was an accident. A train coming from Edinburgh to London." He gripped her hand tighter. "I just saw it in a Muggle newspaper. One of the witnesses mentioned seeing a green cloud, and of course, it could just be a coincidence, but...Lily, what's wrong?"

She had raised one hand to her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes. "Oh God. Oh no...tell me it didn't...I didn't..."

"I don't understand. Lily, what happened?" She just shook her head, and Sirius peered around the room frantically. "Prongs!"

James poked his head through the door. "Lil, what's the matter?"

"James," she whispered, her eyes focused somewhere beyond Sirius' shoulder, "do you remember Professor McKinnon's lectures on Legilimency and Occlumency?"

"Yeah." James moved around the table and knelt beside Lily. "What about them?"

"He said...didn't he say something about Vol--You-Know-Who--knowing how to...?" She choked on a sob. "It's my fault! He saw them! He knew where they were!"

"Wait a minute," Sirius interjected, staring at her, "you saw him? Voldemort? He was at the Ministry?"

James nodded. "For about five seconds, yeah. We didn't know who he was at the time. Awful-looking, if you ask me. Eyes like a snake." Then, turning back to Lily, "Lil, we don't know anything yet. And even if that was the way it happened, it isn't your fault. I promise. What could you have done?"

She just shook her head wordlessly. James held her close, muffling her sobs against his shoulder. "I need to tell...someone needs to tell Petunia, and I don't know...how can I tell her this?"

"We still don't know, Lil. Your parents may be on their way here as we speak. We don't know anything for certain." But the look James threw Sirius spoke volumes more than that.

***

Andromeda Tonks felt a distinct satisfaction that the glare she directed at the St. Mungo's receptionist was apparently working. "I wish to see Narcissa Malfoy, if you please," she repeated, her voice as cold as Aunt Lavinia's on the best of days.

"Mrs Malfoy isn't to have visitors. We're under orders ma'am." The receptionist straightened, as if in an attempt to give herself more authority. "I'm afraid you'll simply need to come back later."

"My name is Andromeda Tonks, and she is my sister. I will see her, and now."

At the sound of the word 'sister', the woman had paled somewhat. Without another word, she slipped from behind the desk to lead Andromeda to the lift, and some moments later, through the corridors in the Spell Damage ward. They came to a stop in front of a closed door, and the receptionist gestured toward it.

"I don't suppose you know anything," Andromeda observed.

She shook her head. "No, ma'am. You'll have to ask the Healers." And with that, she made her way back toward the lift.

Steeling herself, Andromeda knocked.

"Who is it?" The voice belonged to a man, harsh and rasping, but she recognised it easily enough. Pushing open the door, she entered the room. "Andromeda?"

"Lucius," she acknowledged quietly. "How is she?"

Only then did her eyes stray to the bed. Narcissa was asleep, it appeared, one hand curved around her husband's. Lucius, on the other hand, looked up at her with dark circles beneath his eyes from lack of sleep, all the more dramatic given his colouring. Glancing from Narcissa back to Andromeda, he said, "As well as can be expected, I've been told."

"Sleeping draughts?"

He nodded. "Since I brought her here. But they did find out what happened. That girl at the Ministry had no idea, but she'd only begun working here, and probably not even in Spell Damage. All the same, she saved her life, likely without even realising."

Andromeda moved to the other side of the bed, settling on the edge and keeping her eyes on Narcissa's sleeping face. "What happened, then?"

"Exsangue," he answered, his voice icy. "The force of it made her lose her balance, and she fell down the stairs..."

But Andromeda had taken up the file from the edge of the bed, eyes widening. "Miscarriage?" She turned back to Lucius. "Did you know?"

He shook his head. "She hadn't told me. I can only imagine she wanted to be sure, first. Now, of course, it hardly matters." After a pause, he added softly, voice choked, "We shouldn't have gone."

"Did you know this was going to happen, Lucius?"

At that, his chin shot upward, and his eyes met hers, furious. "Do you honestly believe I would have brought her there if I'd known anything? I had no idea."

She could push her luck, she knew. She could demand, baldly, to know where his allegiance lay, but Andromeda stayed her hand. There were more important things at stake right now. "She hasn't said anything, then? About who it was? Or did you see...?"

"Masked," he interjected. "I couldn't even tell if it was a man or a woman. I just saw them leave." He lowered his head far enough that his hair brushed Narcissa's skin. "I don't even know how it happened, if it was a duel or..."

"Or?" prompted Andromeda.

Again, he looked up at her. "If she knew who it was. If she recognised them, and was caught off-guard."

One name lingered in the air between them, although neither of them saw fit to speak it aloud. Instead, Andromeda leant close to her sister. "I'm here, dearest. 'Cissa, can you hear me?"

The woman on the bed stirred slightly, eyelids fluttering.

"Dearest, it's Andromeda. Lucius too. It'll be alright, I promise." Narcissa's eyes opened, took in Andromeda's face with slight trepidation. "You know me, love. Who did this to you?"

"Bella." Her voice was weak, scratchy from the sleeping draughts, but clear. "I'd know those stupid rings anywhere."

Lucius rose to his feet very deliberately, disentangling his fingers from his wife's. Glancing at Andromeda, he murmured, "Stay with her?"

"Don't do anything too rash, Lucius," Andromeda warned. "She needs you. Bella has far too many friends in very low places."

He smiled bitterly. "Lucky for me, so do I." Bending down, he kissed Narcissa on the forehead. Then, with a nod to Andromeda, he swept from the room.

***

Most people would no doubt have expressed some startlement if the door to their bedroom flew open with no warning. Bellatrix Lestrange, however, could not be counted amongst that majority. Raising herself on one elbow, she drew the sheets upward in a mockery of modesty. "Why Lucius, how very scandalous of you. What ever would dear 'Cissa say?"

He did not answer, merely closed the door behind him. With slow, deliberate movements, he drew out his wand, his face expressionless. Then, in a low and harsh voice, he murmured, "Crucio."

When Bellatrix was six years old, her mother's constant warnings about not opening locked cupboards, regardless of whether or not she could pick the locks in question, were given a jolt of reality. On the top shelf of a particular one in the cellar was a black wicker basket, the perfect size for the snake she had just caught in the garden. As she found out very quickly, however, it already had an occupant, one whose fangs caught her in the soft flesh between her thumb and forefinger. It had felt like sparks exploding, first in her hand, and then, ever so slowly, up her arm and through her entire body.

Lucius' single word transformed sparks into flares. Bellatrix began to scream.

She could not have said how long it lasted, only that she opened her eyes to find herself on the floor, still tangled in the sheets. Directly in front of her, Lucius was standing with his back pressed against the bedpost. The familiar dark-cloaked figure held two wands, pointed directly at him.

"I'm disappointed, Lucius." The Dark Lord shook his head slowly. "Your spellwork is impeccable, but you made a very unfortunate choice of targets."

"Did I, My Lord?" Lucius was breathing very hard from exertion, but the words were as precise as ever. "I have it on good authority that my choice of target is entirely warranted."

"And I, Lucius, do not have the patience for your arrogance today. If you refer to the incidents at the Ministry last night, and your ignorance thereof, I was under the impression that you needed an alibi. And this is the thanks I get for providing you with one?"

Bellatrix, by this point, had calmed somewhat, and managed to scramble back onto the bed, eyes on Lucius as she did so. His eyes widened in disbelief, an expression she was forced to admit she had not seen before. "You call the attempted murder of my wife an alibi?"

"No, Lucius. That," the Dark Lord stepped closer, lowering his voice to a snakelike purr, "was a warning. Bella," he looked over Lucius' shoulder at her, and Bellatrix relaxed slightly, allowing the flicker of a smile to cross her face, "acted under my orders."

"Why?" His voice was choked. Bellatrix felt her smile fading somewhat. Narcissa couldn't have been badly hurt, after all. Just a small curse, and everyone knew they could fix nearly everything at St. Mungo's if one had the money. And Lucius had the money.

"You've been wavering, Lucius." The voice was almost caressing, and one of the wands trailed delicately across Lucius' throat. "I don't like that. It's...slippery. I can't trust slippery people, and I would very much prefer to trust you. I imagine you would too, given the alternative."

Apparently unable to speak, Lucius nodded jerkily.

"Do we understand one another, Lucius?"

Another nod, slightly more graceful than the last.

"Good. That being the case, I suggest you return to your wife, and endeavour to show us a little more enthusiasm in the future."

***

Petunia was very disappointed. It had taken all her willpower not to inform Vernon Dursley that she had--on his secretary's advice--taken a quick look through the pockets of his overcoat when he was in the toilet and found the velvet-covered box holding her engagement ring. Of course, she had no idea what she would say to him if he did propose, so perhaps it was all the better for both of them that he had apparently lost the courage to do so for the time being.

Her mother didn't entirely approve, of that she was well aware. You've only been seeing him for six months, Petunia. Isn't that a bit hasty? She was quick to assure Petunia that she had nothing against Vernon. I only want you to be happy, dearest. That's all.

But all thoughts of proposals, late or missing or otherwise, vanished instantly from Petunia's head when they returned to the Evans house to find a police car parked on the street in front.

"Miss Petunia Evans?" The expression on the man's face was of the carefully schooled neutral variety, but his voice was slightly hoarse. "I'm afraid...there's been an accident."

She didn't quite hear everything he said. Something about a train, just north of Newcastle. But her parents were in Edinburgh, surely. They were on holiday. No...they were to come back today.

Were, Petunia. They aren't coming back.

"Petunia." Vernon was saying her name, and she turned, blinking in an attempt to focus through the tears--Tears? Where did they come from?--forming in her eyes. "Petunia, sit down. Please."

She could feel the chair slide in beneath her, and she relaxed ever so slightly, noting the shaking in her hands. "Are you absolutely sure?" Her voice sounded so very calm. So quiet and assured.

"Your sister identified them, just earlier this evening." After a beat or two, the officer burst out with, "Miss Evans, I'm so sorry."

"My..." Petunia frowned into space. "How did she...how did you find her?"

"She found us, Miss Evans. She'd seen the headlines this morning, I assume."

Petunia had awakened far later than usual, and had chosen to spend most of the day preparing for her date with Vernon. The newspaper lay unread on the front table. Vernon had only just picked it up and handed it to her when he arrived.

"What happened? How did it happen?"

He told her, omitting none of the bizarre discrepancies in the reports. Apparently he felt sorry enough for her, as the child of one of the victims, and half in shock anyway, until---

"A green cloud?" Suddenly alert, Petunia's eyes fixed on the officer's face. "What sort of cloud?"

"I don't know, Miss Evans. A few of the witnesses mentioned it, but most of them had no idea what we were talking about. They were all very disoriented, so I can't say how accurate that particular part of the story...Miss Evans?"

Petunia had risen to her feet, hands twisting together at her waist. "Thank you, sir. Do you need anything else?"

He paused, visibly surprised. "I can't...nothing I can think of." Taking the hint, he quickly hurried from the house.

***

They buried Mr and Mrs Evans two days before Christmas. It was the third day in a row that James and Lily had attended a funeral. First, all five McKinnons near Aberdeen. Then Geoffrey Potter in his family's plot in Godric's Hollow. Snow fell on the first two days. At Windsor, there was only rain.

Neither Lily nor Petunia cried, though their eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. Standing on opposite sides of the two graves, they looked at anything except one another, the unspoken accusations hanging in the air between.

You knew. You knew something like this might happen. You made your choice, to live in the world that killed them.

After the funeral, Lily finally looked at her sister. Petunia, without even a glance, turned and walked away.

A week later, Vernon Dursley proposed. She accepted.