Chapter 28: Movements and Thought

They were working in absolute silence after Petunia came home from her shift at the Grunnings plant. The type of machinery was old enough, that people knew what they were doing, but new enough that there wasn't much trouble. Petunia had stacks of problem questions in her bag for the exams that were about to start soon. People at work started giving her wide-berth when she did her work without much trouble and spent lunchtime eating with the typist pool.

Belby and her watched each other before adding the next ingredients into their respective cauldrons. At this point, the questions that stemmed from the action was why. There were a lot of "why's?" that Petunia wanted the answers to, and she was terrified at the answers she would get when she had the bravery to ask the questions. From their pages of readings, only old potions were created like this. Lots of concentrated magic and the contrast would have made anyone laugh.

Domacles took potions seriously. He loved it and then with the same breathe he hated it. Sometimes, he would wake Petunia very late at night, to try something new. They couldn't do this alone and both of them were incredibly unhappy about that. Brewing together was an old act of almost worship. Belby had said it held significance in passing and Petunia desperately did not want to believe him. It meant that they were connected and needed each other because each had a part to play. The tried it separately, but if the steps were even the slightest second off, the potion rendered itself useless.

The funny thing was Petunia almost counted on Belby to let her go after the party and the first successful trial. She was a muggle, she was good at her job, but the muggle portion outweighed the rest almost on any given day. It should in front of potions. When Petunia took the job, Domacles promised that they would change the world. She had no other choice but to believe that narrative because he wrote it. When Belby batted his eyes people opened their pockets. Petunia couldn't deny there was a power to that.

A much more effective power than her ability to slip unnoticed. People who lived in Cokesworth usually didn't draw attention to themselves. Lot's of purebloods believed in the opposite. They believed in talent and letting those with talent succeed. It didn't matter how much dirty blood they had as long as they could serve, they would be useful. Domacles raised his wand.

"Belby if you plan to throw another cooling spell, I will leave this potion."

"How can you stand it?" Domacles asked.

"I was born in the coldest part of the summer. Also, I don't cover myself in layers."

They both took hands of their potions and let the two cauldrons simmer. It would be another hour before they did anything to it. Petunia opened the cooling box and got out water. There was always purified water in there and usually ice-cold. Petunia would write her last exam a few days ago. She had wanted to celebrate with Jean, but she held herself back for a moment.

There was work to do. The whispers around the potion sphere were that they were going to phase out the licences of non-magical brewers. That meant any squib or muggle who had ever held a licence, which had to be renewed annually would no longer be able to brew, run potion shops or legally buy ingredients of a certain grade.

"You know you and still work here even if they take it away," Domacles said.

Petunia clenched her jaw. It was uncomfortable to confront him, but she also valued her safety and he knew that she knew.

"Your mark, do you believe it?" she asked

Damocles looked uncomfortable at the questions but his eyes firmed. "Muggleborns are taking over our world and with that are muddying our customs and traditions. The Dark Lord is planning to preserve that. He is preserving the magic and for that, I am indebted to him."

Petunia opened her mouth. But then realised that she would have to explain to him concepts of discrimination, from her perspective, and that he was only doing more harm. It wasn't her place to need to have those conversations with him especially when he was clearly making all those exceptions for her. She could hear Lily almost screaming in her head for how wrong she was being to leaving it. Petunia didn't have the energy. She took a cider out of the ice chest and drank deeply. The last bit of the potion for the day wouldn't need her to be completely aware.

"Do you miss it? Hanging out with another muggle, " Belby asked.

"I miss being with them casually. I miss working and then going out to the pub. Genuinely, I miss being normal."

To a certain extent, the words chosen were to hurt Domacles. In her eyes, he wasn't normal, he didn't expect to be and Petunia was fine with it, she just missed it and he wanted an honest answer, so she answered honestly.

"So if you were a witch, would the answer change?"

Petunia shook her head. She saw it in Lily, how living in two worlds destroyed her. Lily couldn't just go back to her job at the grocers and Petunia found it harder to fault her sister for those thoughts. Petunia could feel the distance grew between her and the people she called her own. In many ways, she was a sell-out.

"Once you start with magic, it fills everything. I reach for murtlap before I think of taking a painkiller."

A timer went off. "I'm scared I'm losing all the normal parts of me and I hope that it isn't the same for you," Petunia said.

She didn't enjoy painful conversations. That much was clear as the finished the potion together before Greyback came around to try this round. The moon had gone well. Fenrir had remarked that he felt in control, there was a mean edge to it. The kind that Petunia associated with red flags that she had dated before Darren.

She had heard the stories like everyone else and tried to not be in his way as he drank the potion. Petunia just made sure that there was plenty of tea and biscuits waiting when he did. Sometimes, he held her wrist tightly and breathed in too deeply. It was in those moments she shot Domacles looks of pure helplessness and knew those rumours about Fenrir were imbedded in deep truths.

Petunia couldn't flirt her way out of situations the way Clara could. Her strategy was to make sure she was never in those situations in the first place. But then those same red flags popped up when she was around Vernon Dursley.

Vernon Dursley had recently graduated from university and held himself up with importance, pomp and show. He worked in management at the factory, easing himself into the position that had been his grandfather's. Nepotism wasn't new but Petunia thought he would be a more pleasant man had he known what grime felt like underneath is fingernails. Vernon's fingers never felt like they wanted to do anything but harm her.

But Vernon, like an itch, had settled under her skin and she knew that she wouldn't give him up just yet. Not without him hurting her. Petunia had picked up this terrible habit over the years. Eileen would have commented on them over the years.

She knew she liked men and women, she liked them older and when she had come home with Darren everyone had sighed a short sigh of relief. Petunia didn't like men or women that were supposed to be good for her. She liked them from the factory, with grease under their nails and those who didn't expect any kind of loyalty from her. Vernon fit the last criteria but failed miserably everywhere else. He wasn't the best lay but he was normal and Petunia tended to crave normal on hours that she could.

"His letter to you was filthy, " Domacles said as she made the mistake of reading it in the dining room. "Not even the good kind."

Petunia rolled her eyes. "He's from the factory, upper management, and is ok at sex."

"You, of all people, with a man who can barely write a coherent sentence?" Domacles said. He was judging her very harshly.

Petunia rolled her eyes. Domacles was exaggerating, Vernon wasn't that terrible, she tried to justify. The thing is, she couldn't justify anything. Vernon is a terrible person and Petunia didn't hate him enough to cut him off, just the same way she hadn't cut off the stream of Death Eaters who walked in and out of the Belby cottage.

She needed her job with Domacles, it gave her a place to stay and currency used in the wizarding world. It was also close enough to her job at Grunnings, that she wasn't spending too much to get herself to work every day. All of these things were important. So Belby had the power to say what he wanted and Petunia just had to keep quiet and take it, regardless of how unfair it was.

"He's good at the whole physical aspect even if everything else doesn't work out."

Petunia didn't want to talk about Vernon but once Domacles mind was made upon a topic, he had to make his opinions known.

"But how is that enough? Why do you think it is enough for you?"

Petunia sighed, "Because girl's like me aren't expected to do better. Girls who sleep around, who come from the wrong side of the tracks or spend their time in mechanic shops."

"So you're basically saying that your actions determine your station out there? Then make better ones."

"It does the same in here except you use blood," Petunia said, "I am your apprentice because you wanted me but a Mastery would definitely be out of reach because of my blood. My dirty muggle-tainted blood."

Domacles opened his mouth to reply. "Don't I don't need to hear it from you. Magic favours those who favour themselves and I know you believe this too."

The door flung itself open and sets of black robes swarmed in. There was blood everywhere and the scent of something acidic. In the summer heat, even during the night, Petunia should have felt warm instead she didn't.

A house-elf popped in, concerned but forcing themselves to do nothing. Domacles must have ordered otherwise a long time ago.

"Get one of Petunia's muggle first aid kits." Petunia would have gotten into an argument about the lack of privacy, but wizards did take privacy for granted.

Petunia didn't touch anything for fear that she would be cursed but Damocles never really gave her much of a choice apart from a look that told her to diagnose and get to work. The house-elves (multiple) Petunia rarely noticed them tried to help only for Petunia to flick them away. She would feel bad for that afterwards when the Death Eaters lay on the couch and she moved to her room. This was not her battle to get involved in and even if she did, it would be stupid, incredibly silly to get any sort of revenge