Petunia and the Little Monster

September, 1971

Petunia's 13th birthday took place on September 3rd, just two days after Lily had left for Hogwarts. She got a pretty new dress and her mother had baked her favourite strawberry sponge cake. But Petunia felt like her parents were only half-heartedly cheering for her, their thoughts occupied with their missing, younger daughter. No matter how much they smiled and tried to look happy, Petunia could sense the melancholy surrounding them.

If she ever had children, she would never make them feel unwanted on their own birthday. They would get everything they desired. She would never repeat her parent's mistake.

She couldn't stand the atmosphere for more than two hours. Her mother had asked Petunia if she wanted to invite any friends over to play, but Petunia ignored her, walking towards the forest instead.

She hadn't accompanied her parents to London to send Lily off. It had seemed an unnecessary trip and she especially didn't want to see her parents lavish affection on their special child going off to a magical school while she was forced to stay behind. She wouldn't miss Lily or the stinky boy anyway, what was the need to say goodbye? They could twirl flowers and play with their stupid sticks all they liked at their new school. Petunia didn't need them.

She had her little monster.

Traipsing through the forest, she secured her scarf tightly around her neck. The days were already starting to get shorter and colder, and especially the shadowed forest made her feel chilled if she didn't bundle up.

She didn't find the little monster every time she ventured into the forest, but she faithfully brought the ham sandwiches anyway. The little thing was so thin it definitely needed any nutrition it could get.

Now that she knew it wasn't dangerous, she saw no reason to not take care of it. Having an invisible monster as a pet sounded like quite an advantage - if anyone ever talked about her behind her back, she would just let it bite them. And no one would be able to lay the blame on her.

But first, she had to tame it.

Not spotting it in the small clearing, Petunia backtracked, finally discovering the little monster in the shadow of a big tree - though the image it presented made her pause.

The little monster was lying down on its side, not walking around like usual. A slight shiver jerked the thin skin above its flanks, but it didn't move otherwise.

Is it still alive? Coldness spread through her chest. "Little monster? I brought you a sandwich."

The little monster reacted to her voice, slowly lifting its long head, the milky-white eyes facing her. Petunia grabbed a sandwich and threw it over. The little monster sniffed it, but didn't eat, his head collapsing back onto the earth.

Was it sick? What had happened in the few days Petunia hadn't seen it?

She didn't dare approach it for fear of frightening it and chasing it away. So she just sat down on the ground, moist coldness slowly seeping into her wool-dress. No matter how long she waited, the little monster never ate the sandwich.

The image burned itself into Petunia's mind. What was she supposed to do now?

❀ 

Petunia stared at the paper, feeling unreconciled and unwell. It was the second time she would send a letter to a wizard and she was dreading it.

The first time she had written one to Albus Dumbledore, her heart had been filled with hope and anticipation, only to be shattered mercilessly. She didn't want to open herself up for another humiliation. And most of all, she didn't want to ask anyone for help. She relied on herself and wanted to resolve her problems with her own power.

But this time she was at a loss. She clenched the pen in her hand, almost putting it down - but whenever she was about to, a picture of the shivering, unresponsive little monster flashed through her head.

It was the only thing that made her special and Petunia was the only one who could see it. She was its only hope, just as the monster was hers. Without it Petunia would return to being ... the unwanted, magic-less, ugly sister.

And without her, the little monster might perish.

What was the worst that could result from writing this letter? Humiliation, rejection, her brain supplied immediately. But if it paid off, she might be able to keep being special.

Her first thought had actually been about the book about creatures. But no matter how much Petunia thought, she couldn't come up with a way to get her hands on it. Not only did she not have the means to pay for it, she couldn't even go into the street or shop where it was sold. She had no hope that Mrs Snape would take her - especially if neither Lily nor Severus were there - and even if she made the trip to London by herself she wouldn't be able to find the street.

She wasn't magical after all. They didn't want her there.

The prospect of asking Lily for help made her stomach clench and nausea crawl up her throat. Lily might be able to help - she could ask the stinky boy always flitting around her, or being magical herself maybe have even more options. But Petunia's whole body had rebelled at the thought of admitting towards her sister that she, Petunia, wasn't as good as her. That everyone had been right all along, that Lily deserved to be better.

That's when she remembered the boy she had briefly met at the bookstore and confused for an employee. After all, I'm always here to help.

A ludicrous idea slowly started to sprout in her head. She knew that the boy hadn't been serious, instead teasing her for her misconception. But still ... he appeared quite knowledgeable about Thestrals. And his father was an author, publishing a book about creatures - he had to know something.

She couldn't think of anyone else. It was either him or Lily.

Concerning the boy, she had already messed up at the bookstore. She had accepted his help, not once but twice, and in this case 'accepted' was just another word for 'demanded'.

What difference did a third time make?

But now, sitting at her desk and staring at the blank paper, doubts began to creep into her mind.

Humiliation, rejection, her mind repeated. In exchange for ... a chance.

Gritting her teeth she put her pen to the paper and began writing.

This letter is intended for Eugene Scamander, student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

My name is Petunia Evans, and we briefly met before the start of term in a bookstore in Diagon Alley. I'm writing to you now because there are still some things I need to know concerning Thestrals and was wondering if your offer to tell me more about them was genuine.

If this is inconvenient, I withdraw my request.

Kind regards,

Petunia Evans

It was pitifully little text, looking a bit lost on the white paper but she didn't know what else to write. She was actually quite proud that she had even remembered the name by which the old book keeper called him, combining it with the author's last name.

She wouldn't have been able to address the letter otherwise.

Ignoring her queasy stomach Petunia carefully folded the letter and stuffed it in an envelope, writing the same address she had used for Dumbledore's letter. She didn't know how it had reached the school that time, but if it worked once, it should work twice.

She would send it off on her way to school, and if she didn't receive a reply the next few days, she had no other option but to contact Lily.

Or leave the little monster up to its fate.

Even though Petunia thought she was quite self-aware, she herself wasn't sure what decision she would make in that case.

A big step for Petunia ❀ I hope you're enjoying the story! Let me know, I feed on comments and likes as if they are cupcakes