Petunia and the Little Monster

August 1974

Petunia wanted to cry. She wanted to scream, and throw things and erase the last few hours from her memories.

Instead she carefully made her way to the upstairs bathroom, hoping it was empty. She could hear her mother in the kitchen, for once without assistance as Petunia had told her she would spend the evening with a friend.

Right about now Petunia had thought that she would still be watching the game with Eugene or maybe celebrating whichever team might have won. Not slinking through her own house like a thief, dirty and shivering.

The shower helped her calm down. Standing under a stream of water that beat against her muscles in small droplets and washed all the signs of her struggle away was cleansing in a way that went more than skin-deep. Stepping out of the bathroom Petunia collected her clothing and instead of putting it in the laundry basket she balled them into a small lump, intending to throw them away.

No matter that she probably would have been able to get rid of the stains with a few wash-cycles, they were forever ruined in her eyes.

Suddenly Petunia longed for her bed, longed for strange, mundane worries like schoolwork or how to wear her wispy hair. She didn't want to think about war, or wizards or strange creatures that stalked through the fog and sang about blood ...

And so she should not have been all that surprised when she opened the door to her room and met Lily's big, green eyes.

It was summer break, so Lily at home wouldn't have been that unexpected if she hadn't been spending almost all of her time away. Lily regularly visited her school friends, sometimes staying overnight (something Peutnia never dared ask of her parents, but which Lily had no trouble announcing) and if she was in Cokeworth she usually stayed outside as long as possible, collecting frog eggs and picking weeds with one of her thick tomes clutched under her arm. She had jars full of things she called 'ingredients' and Petunia didn't do more than grimace at the collection cluttering the top of Lily's dresser.

"You're back, Tuney."

Petunia quickly gathered her wits and made her way to her own bed, on which her nightgown was folded neatly. Thoughts thick as tar were clogging her mind, one pressing to the forefront above all other: Lily knew.

Lily knew there was a war and had never breathed a word of it.

Petunia was exhausted from her day and drained from her talk with Eugene. She didn't have the energy to confront Lily now - so she did her best to ignore her little sister, tugging fresh clothes over her head. The smell of her detergent settled her nerves a little, helping her to finally feel completely clean.

"Tuney? Are you alright?"

No.

Petunia settled in her bed, fluffing her pillow and leaning back against it. Her head was pounding and her bones were heavy as stones, dragging her limbs down.

"What's going on? Did something happen?"

Yes. I realised that you've been keeping secrets. I realised we're in danger.

Lily was growing exasperated with her silence, a note of annoyance creeping into her voice. "Tuney!"

And then something inside Petunia simply burst. "Lily!"

Lily blinked, taken aback at the venom in her shrill voice.

But now that the dam has broken the words spilled from Petunia's lips as if she was vomiting them up, freeing the poisonous sludge that had glued her insides together in an anxious-ridden tangle. "How could you, Lily? How could you never say anything? Why didn't you warn me, why didn't you warn our parents? This is nothing to laugh off and shrug away, it's war! War!"

"What - How do you ...?"

"Did you intend to keep it from us forever?"

Lily's silence was more telling than any words could have been.

Petunia's next whisper was quiet and raw. "Why?"

"Because it has nothing to do with you!"

Petunia swallowed, a thick clump in her throat constricting her airways.

In another life, Lily might have been right. Maybe it would have never affected Petunia if she hadn't stuck her nose in Wizard business, if she had never given in to temptation and gone to Diagon Alley all those years ago ...

But she had. And she wouldn't change it, wouldn't change what she had with Aspen and Ivy and Eugene - not even now that she knew about the darkness that world held.

"You're wrong."

Lily didn't seem to agree, shaking her head, her red tresses flying. "Why would I tell you, Tuney? It would be cruel!"

"Why?"

"Because there is nothing you can do!"

Petunia stopped. One breath, two breaths and then her heart started hammering again, quick and strong but driven by a strange, nameless terror.

She wished she could reassure herself against this argument as she had the first one, find a reason why Lily was wrong.

But nothing came to mind. What could Petunia do, faced with a war that employed powers she could never even dream off? What could she do to protect herself, her family, her loved ones?

The answer echoed hollowly in her chest.

Nothing. There was nothing she could do.

Lily was right.

❀

Petunia sat at her window sill, wrapped in a blanket to ward off the morning chill. She had been sitting here since the first ray of sunlight creeped across the horizon, dying it a dusky yellow. She'd been watching as the crystals of dew dotted on every blade of grass and every branch slowly evaporated, turning into a misty fog that clung to the ground like a thick, white blanket.

She'd watched as light pierced that fog, creating holes and flimsy places until it retreated to the edge of the forest like a skulking animal, seeking refuge in the bluish shade of the trees.

She had simply been watching, her head empty except for one thought.

There was nothing she could do.

Petunia wasn't a warrior or a genius. She wasn't even magical. She was a young, human girl that had one day thrown a sandwich at a magical creature in a selfish bid to be special.

And as the lingering fog disappeared completely she took a deep cleansing breath. The thought had gone from torment to fact, something that she simply couldn't change, no matter how much she might wish to.

There was nothing she could do about the war.

So she would focus on something else.

Dragging her stiff bones away from the window sill, Petunia grabbed one of the good papers she always reserved for her letters to Eugene, smoothing it out across her table.

Krampus hadn't been by for days, maybe because Eugene subconsciously realised that Petunia needed some time, maybe because he didn't know what to say after all that had happened.

But it didn't really matter. She knew his address in Dorset and there were human ways of delivering letters that didn't rely on birds. Wasn't that how this whole thing got started in the first place?

So Petunia gripped her pen, drafting the words she wanted to say in her head before pressing the tip into the paper, leaving dark line after dark line on the pristine white.

Eugene,

I don't want to think anymore about what happened. I don't want to drive myself insane about something I can do nothing about.

So I have a request.

Tell me about all the creatures that are never mentioned in your father's book. Tell me about the ones who can speak like us and think like us and who saved our lives.

Tell me about Satyrs. Tell me about Red Caps. Tell me about all of them.

Yours,

Petunia

❀