Petunia was always the worse sister - not as pretty, not as kind and especially not as magical as Lily. Jealousy and bitterness rule her life, until one fateful encounter changes her destiny ...
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Petunia was always the lesser out of the two Evaness...
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The magic cleaning Petunia's room was apparently a fan of the Quibbler.
At least that was the only explanation Petunia could think of for the fact that her newest edition always seemed to disappear for a few hours after it was delivered. And then she turned around and it would lie on her bedside table, each corner neatly aligned as if it had never been anywhere else.
"Can Magic read?"
Fluffy didn't have an answer, one of his heads busy chasing his tail while the other two tried to nip the unruly head's ears and stop him.
"I didn't think it could but what other reason would it have to steal my magazine? It's not like it needs a deep clean before being returned to my room or anything."
Thinking about the magazine, Petunia pondered if maybe she should lend it to Hagrid now that she was aware of his heritage. Xenophilius wrote a lot about giants and maybe Hagrid would find it interesting.
Her thoughts were redirected when she spotted the strange tree in the distance, thin, skeletal branches sprouting out of thick knots that looked like wooden ulcers. Sharply outlined against the murky morning sky, Petunia recognised it instantly and intended to alter her route. Hagrid's warning to stay away from this specific tree still sounded from the depth of her thoughts whenever she spotted it, something ingrained in her memory because she had found it equally ridiculous and frightening at the time.
A tree able to kill her. Perhaps she should have gotten used to the idea by now, surrounded by moving staircases and floating ghosts, with a three-headed dog slumbering underneath her bed and literate magic stoking the fire in her room and now borrowing her magazines.
But it was just something so against the principles of her childhood, this murderous tree. Trees were steadfast, a monument of nature that changed with the seasons, some days bedecked in lush green, others in dry gold and then naked and only clothed with glittering icicles and blankets of snow. They were rough against her skin but stable when Petunia had wrapped her thin limbs around them as a child, straining her feeble muscles in an attempt to climb before her task suddenly switched and she was the one remaining firmly on the ground while trying to get Lily down, who only laughed like a wood-spirit, twigs forming a crown atop her flaming hair.
Her memories dispersed when something moved against the silhouette of the tree, peeling away like an ink blob separating from the quill, dripping along the still dark landscape.
A person. Someone had been hidden against the trunk of the tree and was now walking away from it - towards her. Long arms and slightly hunched shoulders, tresses of hair that caught the first traces of morning light in a mixture of brown and bronze, down-cast eyes hidden in the shadows of his face.
Petunia stalled, for no other reason than her surprise. Usually she was alone on these morning walks, the grounds still and silent as a tomb, frozen grass crunching underneath her feet while her breath billowed in streaks of white in front of her face. She had never spotted anyone else – it was too early for the students to be up or the teachers to prepare for classes, not even the first hints of breakfast could be smelled inside the empty halls.
But now there was a silhouette, silent as her and coming from the tree she had never seen anyone close to.
Maybe they would have passed each other, quietly and unnoticed like two ships in the night, if Fluffy hadn't tensed from heads to tail, vibrating with barely leashed eagerness. And then he started barking like he usually only barked in the forest, without restraint or sense, teeth snapping, spittle flying and his paws burrowing against the earth in an attempt to rip free.
The boy flinched and looked up so fast Petunia felt a sympathetic twinge in her own neck. Startled brown eyes met hers and she blinked as recognition washed through her.
She knew him. He was the boy from the train, the one with the light scars and cryptic remarks.
The sting of Fluffy's leash against her palm startled Petunia from her surprise and before she could think about it further she lowered herself and started humming. The melody sprung from the recesses of her mind, maybe unearthed by her childhood memories of hands sticky with raisin and knees scratched from bark, but she couldn't remember the words.
Fluffy calmed with each low hum, his straining back relaxing, his ears flopping instead of being pinned and his barks lowering to growls and finally unhappy grumbles.
The boy – Remus, his name was Remus, she remembered – cleared his throat. "That's impressive."
Petunia spoke between the soft vibrations coming from her own chest, her eyes warily watching Fluffy's body language. "Music of any kind calms him."
"That's ... certainly interesting. How did you find out?"
"When he stopped ripping apart my pillows because one of those portraits started singing."
He blinked, obviously unsure what to say to that. The silence stretched before he cleared his throat. "Well, enjoy your walk ..."
"How did you survive that tree?"
Petunia could see the way he tensed, as if her words were a blow he hadn't braced for. "What?"
"I know it's dangerous. No-one ever gets close to it – but I saw you."
"Oh." He gave a strained laugh, nerves sprinkled throughout like garnish atop a cake. "You must have been mistaken."
Petunia just looked at him. Now that it was steadily getting lighter, she noticed a few more strange things about him. He was pale, but not the kind of paleness many of the students here suffered now that the sun was hiding behind ever-lasting clouds and fog, but the kind of pale that was accompanied by shadows around his eyes, bloodless lips and an almost greenish tinge around his nose. His hair was lumpy as if he hadn't washed it in a long time and Petunia could see crusted sweat on his collar, wrinkled as the rest of his clothes.
He looked sick.
"Are you alright?"
"Oh yes, just a bit of a sleepless night, took a walk to clear my head. I was passing the Willow, might have gotten a bit too close, but I'm lucky I guess."
He was lying. Even if Petunia hadn't seen him step away from that tree with her own eyes, the way he was fidgeting, rubbing his palms against his thighs, the way his voice sounded forced and jovial so unlike his appearance, would have tipped her off.
"Better get back to bed, might still catch a few hours if I skip breakfast," he babbled. "The fresh air really made me feel loads better – well, anyway."
He took a step closer, intending to walk past her and Fluffy snapped out of his daze for only long enough to growl at him. He gave another forced laugh. "Seems he doesn't like me much."
"Fluffy doesn't really like anyone," she mumbled, though Petunia was surprised at the vehemence he showed this boy in particular. Something was wrong.
She watched as he walked across the field, his steps hasty and his exhales leaving a trail of condensation in the cool air like a path leading to the answer before those too dispersed into nothing.
She hadn't really given her short encounter with Remus much thought after she had left the train, too many things demanding her attention, her introduction to Hagrid, her reunion with Aspen and mostly finding a rhythm with the steady beat of Hogwarts' bustling energy. Now she regretted that she couldn't recall more of what they had talked about.
His form disappeared into one of the big arches bracketing Hogwarts inner courtyard and Petunia was just about to turn away when another figure separated from the darkness of the stones and bricks, back straight and thin and a coat billowing behind brisk steps like the wings of a scavenger bird.
And Petunia was sure she would never mistake that figure for anyone but who it was – the wretched boy.
