The last month stretched interminably for Petunia, having to suffer her parents' excitement at the prospect of Lily coming home. That the plants around her were dead and dying did nothing to cheer her mood. The flower beds she had voluntarily tended in the warmth of summer were withered and though she longed to make them green again, she didn't dare.
Keeping everything secret felt harder than ever and she found herself acknowledging the truth of St. John's words more and more. She shouldn't have to hide, shouldn't have to worry about errant touches or harmless displays of power frightening those around her. They were the leap forward, he said; they were the future.
But he'd made it clear since that day that it was a future they were going to have to fight to see realized. From then on, she'd learned more aggressive applications of the basic skills she had already been mastering. Out of the foundations of her vine growing skills grew lessons in how to capture, subdue, even strangle. Her toxic breath and withering touch were weapons to control, not simply suppress. She learned to grow plants with thorns far larger and sharper than normal, with spines, with intoxicating scents, with poison in their veins.
Morty watched her with a kind of awe and St. John nodded approvingly. Deadly was useful, he told her. Not that she would be put into action right away – not when she was so young and her powers still so relatively untamed. But someday, he promised, someday she would be a force to be reckoned with, a force to be feared.
The thought of being able to finally make people take her seriously, to finally make them see her made her flush and redouble her efforts. And if she ever grew tired or wanted to slacken, she thought of Severus Snape, of the disregard in his black eyes directed at her, his contempt and his disdain. Her loathing surged back, and whatever task she was at would be viciously completed. Sometimes it exhausted her; occasionally it took so much out of her that she would collapse. But each time she got back up and pushed further.
She would show him who was special. Him and Lily and her parents – every last one of them. After all, as St. John implied, even for their powers the wizards were of the past. They relied on exterior methods, on wands and potions and other devices, to augment their powers. The powers of mutants, he reminded her, were born within them. Her strength was part of her very being and couldn't be taken from her with the snapping of a wand.
They were the future. A future that not even wizards fully represented.
She left the final training session buzzing with eagerness. They would meet in the park, St. John said. Midnight and the leader of the Brotherhood would be there. At fifteen until the hour, a rock tapped against her window.
"Morty!" She lifted and looked out. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the park?"
"Oh, I, uh, just thought I'd check it you needed help."
"I'm fine, Morty," she whispered, buttoning up her coat. "But you better hope my parents don't hear you!"
"I'll be caref… ah!"
"Morty!" She hissed and held out a hand to make the branches stretch when he slipped.
"Sorry, sorry."
"Well, I'm ready now, so let's head out." She shouldered a backpack and threw a duffel of clothing to the ground before climbing out of the window. The vines on the trellis rose to meet her and slowly carried her down to the ground. "We'd better hurry or we'll be late!"
They made their way rapidly in the dark, she along the sidewalks and he from roof to roof, until they came to the place where they first met. There was nothing there so they waited beneath the tree in which they'd spent so much of the summer. All they could hear at first was the sound of their own breathing, puffing light clouds into the cold air around them. Then the metal chains on the swings started to clink, even in the absence of wind.
In an instant, a ship appeared in front of them. Petunia gasped and Morty grabbed her arm. A man hovered in front of it, having appeared as suddenly as the ship.
"Forgive me if I startled you," the man said. "Mastermind cloaking our entry was necessary."
The sharp outline of his helm sparkled in the starlight and he was dressed regally in purples and reds. Petunia could feel power coming off of him, washing over her like a wave. Every hair stood on end, every beat of her heart thrummed with excitement.
With deliberate movements, the man lifted off his helmet, revealing the dark hair flecked with grey. A metal disk shaped itself beneath his feet and he floated towards her on it.
"I am Magneto." He extended his hand towards her. "And I have come to offer you entry into my Brotherhood."
For a moment she stood in silent awe, half afraid her heart might beat out of her chest. Then she reached up and took the hand that he offered. He pulled her up onto the platform with him and, now that they were closer, she could see his eyes, cold and vivid, burning with an intensity she had never encountered before.
"What about me!" Morty protested from the ground.
"We wouldn't leave ya!" A panel on the side of the ship slid away, revealing St. John – or at least somebody who sounded like St. John – standing in the frame. "Think you can jump?"
"Fine!" Morty sprang from the ground to the tree, then into the ship.
Meanwhile, Magneto floated in with Petunia still holding on to him.
"This is amazing," she breathed. Again, she felt a pang of jealousy towards her sister; for all of her powers, she could not fly under her own capabilities. It was a wonderful feeling to be able to do so, and she was left feeling still cheated.
"I am flattered that you think so." Once inside, she saw one of the men she had met earlier. "Mastermind – cloak us."
"Of course."
"Want me to show them around?" St. John offered. For the first time, Petunia saw him in what she assumed was some kind of uniform or armor. It covered most of him in warm shades of red, orange and yellow, but there was space as the top for his naturally red hair to spill over. His hands were connected with tubing to a canister on his back and goggles covered his eyes. The look was certainly more sinister than she was used to; but she still felt her cheeks heat at the sight.
"No, I will take them around." He looked at Petunia then Morty. "Follow me."
They did, trailing in his wake through the metal hall of the ship.
"For now it is not very spacious," he admitted. "Function over form. But I wanted to make sure you both had these." He led them through a hallway rife with control panels to what seemed to be a locker room of sorts. "St. John was quite comprehensive in his reports about your powers and what you might need in the way of a uniform. I trust these will suffice?"
He opened two of the lockers with a wave of his hand. Petunia dropped her bags and ran up to the one undoubtedly for her; the armor was in shades of white and pink. She ran her hands over it, wondering how it would fit, how she would look in it.
"I love it already!"
"Nice," Morty nodded, exploring his own suit of dark greens and blacks.
"Then, as you might have guessed, there is but one formality left to take care of. I assume you have noticed that we all have names?" Petunia nodded. "We take these as a sign that we assumed new identities – that as mutants, our power has become an irrevocable part of our identity and that we should be named as such."
"So what are our names going to be?" Morty asked, stretching the fabric of his costume.
"If you like, you may decide for yourselves. I would not presume to name you."
"I haven't even thought about what I could be called," Petunia admitted. "It seems too odd to think of myself as anything else but Petunia."
"Give it time; you will get used to it," Magneto promised. "Change and join us in the cockpit."
Their backs turned towards one another, Petunia and Morty divested themselves of their normal trappings and pulled on the uniforms they had been given. Hers was pink and white, half a dress with a high collared throat and a belt cinching the waist, and half a body suit covering her legs and arms, with white boots and gloves accenting the ensemble. The material was strong but flexible, breathed well and fit them perfectly. Petunia wondered what they could be made of, to fit like a glove and yet go on so easily.
When they walked to the cockpit she was a reflection of herself in the windows. It was dim, but she could see the stronger lines her body cut in the uniform, the power that belied the soft colors of the armor. Better, she thought to herself, than frumpy robes.
Morty's was more of a plain bodysuit. He didn't have full gloves; the suit went down around his hands, but the fingers were cut out. His boots were less delicate, more of a combat boot, and he had goggles around his neck like Pyro's. She noticed that in his new uniform, he seemed to stand a little straighter, a little taller. Deceptive, she thought, how small he looked when he crouched down, compared to what his full height was.
"I take it the suits are to your liking?" Magneto smiled.
"Fantastic!" She held out a gloved hand, flexed her fingers.
"Have you chosen your names?"
She blushed. "I wouldn't even know… I haven't."
"Me neither," Morty admitted.
"Then if I may be so presumptuous?" He looked at Morty first. "The Toad. As befits your jumping ability and your prehensile tongue." He then turned to Petunia. "Oleander. Beautiful, delicate – and utterly poisonous."
"Love it," she whispered.
Morty – Toad – did not look quite so happy, but with the excitement of leaving and getting their uniforms, they were in a good mood all around. Magneto left them in the hands of Pyro and Avalanche who were piloting the ship while he retired to another part of the vessel with Mastermind.
"This is amazing!" Petunia stared at the controls.
"Well pay good attention to it, both of you," Pyro said. "Someday you're gonna learn to pilot her as well as us."
"Pilot?" Petunia gasped. "I don't think I could pilot."
"You will learn," Avalanche said. "Do not tell yourself you cannot do something before you have even attempted it. It is necessary that all members of a team know how to use to equipment on a mission – there might come a day when you will have to fly. And the sooner you learn the more practice you will have."
The crowded around the pilot seats, then, watching what buttons they pressed and levers they pulled with Pyro and Avalanche slowly explaining all of it to help familiarize them. Petunia's interest was cut short, however, when, several hours into the flight, a castle came into view.
"Is that…"
"Headquarters," Pyro said, landing the ship on top of the castle.
They stepped out to find a party already waiting for them. There was a blue mutant, more different than anything Petunia had ever seen, dressed in white, an enormous man who seemed to be little more than a mountain of flesh, and a young women, older than Petunia but not by much, dressed in red.
"Welcome back," the blue woman said.
Magneto turned to Toad and Oleander.
"Welcome home."
OOO
Six Months Later
OOO
The time had gone by slowly and painfully for Lily. Her nightmare haunted her and no effort her family and friends made to cheer her up – not the constant presence of Severus, not the renewed friendship and deepening closeness with him, not even the prospect of returning to Hogwarts – had dulled the loss of her sister. She had finished her year at school, hoping with every owl there would be news.
But there never was.
Severus had even suggested sending an owl, hoping that it might magically find its way to Petunia. It never returned. She was not entirely sure what to make of that, but it only intensified her loss, made her seem even beyond the reach of magic.
So when she was finally scheduled to come home from school, her parents at last agreed that the time had come to have a memorial and to, however slightly, let go of a portion of their dimming hope. Severus vowed to stay by her side, offer what comfort he could.
Then, three days after she had come home from Hogwarts, there was a knock at the door. Lily opened it and froze. A figure stood in front of her, tired and worn looking, with a battered backpack across her slumped shoulders.
"Tuney?" She whispered.
She did not dare believe it. It had to be a vision, a hallucination. Somewhere behind her she heard footsteps - Severus perhaps. But all she could see was the girl in front of her through her rapidly misting eyes.
"Hi Lily." The bedraggled girl gave a small smile. "I'm home."
