April, 1972

Something strange was going on. Something that Severus had seen so many times, he couldn't ignore it any longer.

Today once more, Severus watched as Lily's sister disappeared into the small garden shed, not paying either him or Lily any attention.

"What is she doing in there?"

Lily looked up from the wreath of daisies she was braiding, small white petals and yellow dust clinging to the green fabric of her dress. She smelled fresh and floral and pure. Severus knew that he himself smelled like mothballs and unwashed hair and slowly inched a bit farther away. He didn't want Lily to notice.

"She usually spends some time in there every day," Lily said. "I don't know why, it's empty. Mum told me she thinks it's my sister's hide-out."

Hide-out? Why would Lily's sister need a hide-out? She had a big, bright house and a perfect family. There was always fresh food on the table and she never needed to soak stale bread in water to make it soft enough to swallow.

"Do you like it?"

Severus startled and turned his head to see the daisy crown Lily proudly held up. Some of the blossoms looked a bit worse for wear but it was a pretty picture nonetheless; Lily's hair glowed like embers in the spring sun and the soft light made her dimpled smile look ethereal.

"It's pretty."

Severus tried to suppress his flinch when Lily quickly leaned towards him and deposited the braided daisies on his head. Did she notice his greasy hair? Had she touched it? Shame and nerves clamped around his throat and he hastily swallowed to ease it before it could tighten.

Lily's bell-like laugh tinkled through the warm air. "It suits you, Sev! Do you want me to show you how to make one?"

Severus nodded, never one to deny anything Lily asked. She started plucking flowers for the second crown when Severus noticed the door of the garden shed opening. Lily's sister left the shed with a swish of her white skirt, acting like she could see neither Lily nor him. Her blond hair was pulled back tightly but … her usually pinched expression looked different. Not relaxed really, but softer nonetheless.

Severus blinked. What was in that shed?

She disappeared into the house and Severus wasn't the only one watching the door close behind her.

"Tuney was the one to teach me how to do this, back when …" Lily took a deep breath, her green eyes wandering to the grass at her feet. "Back when she didn't hate me."

Annoyance crawled up his back. Lily's sister was jealous and stupid. Why did she continue to punish Lily for something that Lily couldn't change? It was her sister's bad luck to be born a muggle, no one else's. She should be happy for Lily, instead of making her feel bad about it.

Lily gave him a small smile, but it looked fragile. "I hope I can explain it as well as she did. I remember I had a lot of fun that day. Let me get some more flowers, I already picked all the good ones here."

Severus watched as she got up, small petals raining from her clothes and swirling in the breeze that teased her long, red hair. She hurried down the hill to the next patch of flowers and Severus didn't stop her. Lily got like this sometimes, when she thought about that harpy of an older sister and Severus was never good at comforting her. If he followed his impulse and insulted her sister, Lily just got even more sad. So he had learned to leave her alone.

His eyes wandered from Lily's small back to the shed. What was the harpy doing in there anyway? His instincts were telling him that she was hiding something.

Standing up, he carefully adjusted the flowers tickling the skin on his forehead while approaching the shed. It didn't look like anything special, square, wooden and a bit run-down. The door had been left ajar and Severus nudged it open, entering the cooler air. A rake and lawn-mower were pushed against one of the walls, spiderwebs fluttering from the ceiling. A heap of tarps was haphazardly bunched into a corner of the shed and Severus could see a toolbox and a ladder behind it.

There was nothing unusual about it. But the hair on his neck stood up regardless. It felt like … he was being watched.

He took another small step inside, and something crunched under his foot. Quickly lifting his leg he looked at what he had stepped on.

A bone. A bone no longer than his finger was lying on the dusty floor, broken where his weight had crushed it.

Cold air washed over his face and Severus stumbled back, his eyes wide. There should be no breeze coming from that direction, the door was behind him and the shed's window was closed.

"Sev?"

Severus gritted his teeth and slowly walked backwards out of the cold, dark shed. Back towards the sun and Lily's voice. But his eyes lingered on the bone.

Something strange was going on with Lily's sister.

It was the evening before Lily would go back to Hogwarts when she casually told Petunia that one of her worst fears had already come true.

They were sitting in their room, Petunia re-reading Fantastic Beasts on her bed and adding her own notes to the blank spaces while watching the ink-drawn Thestral flap its skeletal wings at the bottom of the page. Petunia had greatly admired it from the first time she opened the book, curious what it would be doing when she saw it next. Sometimes its snout followed her pen while she wrote down her own findings, sometimes it would be dozing. She wasn't sure if it was actually sentient or just a magical, fancy trick, but she liked to believe that it always waited for her to open the book.

Lily was occupying the only desk in the room with her special magical homework. Petunia had quietly disdained that she bothered using an actual feather quill to scratch down her answers, as if they were living in the middle ages, when Lily suddenly looked up. "Tuney, I just remembered, do you know someone named Gene Scamander?"

Petunia's chest turned to ice. What? "What?"

"A fourth year heard James call me 'Evans' in the hallway and stopped me, asking if I knew any Petunia. I'm sure he must have been talking about you! Is he the one who always sends you that huge owl?"

They met. Eugene had met Lily. It was over.

"Tuney?"

No , she whispered but her lips didn't move. What had she expected? That they would never see each other? That she could somehow prevent it from happening? Her life didn't work that way. Every good thing would always belong to Lily … Even if I met him first, it's not going to change anything …

"Tuney, what's wrong?"

He would ask Petunia about Lily in his next letter, she just knew it. Petunia could almost read the line as if it was already in front of her, the words branding itself into her retinas.

I didn't know you had a sister, Petals. Don't worry I'll look after her here in our special magical school you will never be able to set foot into. She seems a lot nicer than you anyways. And prettier as well. Not to mention that she knows all about the fancy magical things I talk about and doesn't always pester me for help.

A small part of her protested that image. Deep down Petunia knew that Eugene wouldn't say exactly that but at the same time she was sure that he would ask about Lily. How could he not? It was Lily after all.

The drawn ink image of the Thestral stomping its hooves blurred in front of her eyes. She should blink - or breathe. But Petunia was unable to move a muscle, prisoner to her own thoughts.

She should have been prepared for this. It was always going to end like this. But it was still a shock.

She'd thought she'd have more time. More time to come to terms with this, more warning to see it coming.

Petunia only startled when Lily turned down the lights and climbed underneath her covers.

"Are you coming with us to the station tomorrow?", her little sister's voice asked in the darkness.

Petunia's eyes were fixed on the same spot as they had been hours ago. They itched and felt dry. The Thestral had become barely distinguishable without the light, only a blob of blackness on the shadowed page.

One last time , she thought. To let go.

"Yes."

The numbness didn't want to let Petunia escape its icy grasp. It had seeped into her limbs, into her thoughts, into her mind like viscous, colourless syrup. Petunia almost thought it was dripping from her fingers, staining everything around her.

She didn't feel any resentment when she looked at Lily or poked at the lavish breakfast her mother had prepared as a goodbye for her magical daughter. She didn't feel annoyed when she met the suspicious, onyx-black eyes of Severus who was once again shoved into their care by his scarecrow-like mother.

She didn't feel a shot of excitement when she stepped through what should have been a solid wall, the coarse bricks brushing over her skin like a breeze. She didn't feel out of place when she found herself the centre of a whirl of magical children and equally magical parents, black cloaks, cages with animals and trunks of all sizes blocking her path.

She just felt nothing. Even when she spotted a head of bright golden curls among the swirling chaos.

And then that head turned while warm, brown eyes met her own over the distance between them and from one inhale to the next everything came crashing back. Swallowed by a wave of resentment, annoyance and denial Petunia almost staggered back, a crushing sadness penetrating deeper than any of the other emotions.

One last time , she reminded herself. She was here to make a clean cut, so it wouldn't get infected and fester and pain her for months to come.

Today she would kill her illusions - by using Lily.

"Eugene."

She didn't even realise he had said his name out loud when Lily suddenly perked up, standing on tiptoes to look at whatever had caught her older sisters' attention.

"Oh, you're right, that's him! The boy I told you about," she declared, stepping next to Petunia. Their mother had fallen back a bit, recognizing one of the other parents in the crowd but Severus hovered behind Lily like a tall and thin shadow. His hooded eyes followed theirs but Petunia couldn't decide if they were apathetic or already resentful of whomever had caught Lily's interest. She couldn't really bring herself to care about him either.

Instead all her attention was focused on the bobbing head of sunshine curls, making his way towards her - towards them - through the crowd. It parted around him easily and a small part of Petunia wondered what it was about Eugene that just commanded attention, even when he wasn't the tallest or oldest of the students scurrying all around them. But no-one bumped into him or blocked his path and then her reprieve was over and he was standing right in front of her, smiling that too-wide smile that stretched the corner of his lips and was uniquely him.

"Petals! It's been a while. No enthusiastic greeting this time?"

"There was no such thing last time," Petunia retorted but the words burned when they passed her lips. When will he notice Lily? When will he ask about her?

"I must remember wrong, then," he easily agreed though his grin belied his words. "You throwing yourself in my arms, I mean."

Lily gasped - likely out of astonishment at the teasing note in his voice while a boy was addressing her prudish, boring and snappish older sister - and it happened. Eugene looked over, looked at her .

He took in her shining hair, her jewel-like big eyes and finally the Hogwarts suitcase clutched in her petite hands. And even though Petunia had been expecting it, even though she thought she was prepared, something inside her curled into a burning lump regardless while he looked. The longer his gaze lingered on Lily the tighter the lump clenched in her chest, becoming more unbearable by the second.

"Hey, so I guessed right. You two do know each other."

Lily must have felt a bit out of her depth because she fell back onto the safety of manners. "My name is Lily, I'm a first year and Petunia's my sister."

Eugene nodded, his smile still on his face. A smile that Petunia had never wanted to see directed at Lily. Petunia wanted to scream or vomit or just sit down and forget all this was happening in the first place. But she didn't do anything, just stood quietly beside her sister, watching her nightmares unfold in front of her eyes.

This had been inevitable from the start.

Eugene spoke up: "I actually remember you."

Hearing his words was like little worms biting into her flesh and wiggling underneath her skin, painful and disgusting.

Petunia bit her lip and was just about to turn her face away, unable to stomach any more, when something strange happened. Something so strange that she didn't react for the longest time.

Eugene looked away from Lily and his eyes fell on Severus, his smile unchanged. "I remember both of you. Slughorn's new favourites."

And then brown eyes were suddenly back on hers and twinkling with amusement. "Petals, before I sink in your estimation, you should know that I'm also one of his favourites. Even though I've got no lost love for those nasty potions."

His remark freed Lily from her awkwardness as she quickly retorted: "Potions aren't nasty, they're brilliant!"

Eugene leaned closer to Petunia and lowered his voice. "Don't listen to her, it's all about frog eyes and snail intestines and other revolting, slimy things you don't ever wanna touch with your bare hands, let alone swallow."

His scent, a bit like rain on warm pavement, played around her nose but Petunia was too stunned to register it. Why was he talking to her? Why wasn't he trying to engage Lily or asking about her or … or everything everyone always did when they first met Lily?

"You're in the Slug Club," Severus' voice sounded from behind them, his tone accusing.

Eugene nodded readily. "That's right, once Sluggie read my last name on his class roster, it was a done deal."

"You shouldn't call a professor 'Sluggie'," Lily said. "And being a member is great!"

"Sure it is. Once you guys are in your second year you'll be able to enjoy it just as much, I'm certain. My tip: stay far away from the Bubble-Pudding at those meetings, no matter what bets you take."

"What's Bubble-Pudding?", Lily asked but Eugene shook his head.

"Be glad you don't know." And then his eyes were once more on Petunia. "Petals, do you have time? There's something I want to give you."

Petunia just nodded numbly, not sure if she would have been able to form a response - her tongue felt strangely spongy and heavy in her mouth. The next second a warm, dry hand grasped her own, the strength neither too forceful nor too lax. Petunia startled and looked down, the picture of her pale fingers enclosed by Eugene's slightly larger ones somehow looked very surreal. A numb part of her brain uselessly noted that his nails were quite square compared to her round ones.

Eugene addressed one last remark towards Lily and Severus. "I'm looking forward to seeing you two at the club meetings next year. Make sure to mix them up a bit, they can get tedious at times."

And then he started leading Petunia away, away from the situation she had so feared, that had robbed her sleep and peace for hours on end and which had dissolved in a few minutes. He navigated the crowd as if he was a fish in water, never bumping into anyone or having to pause. When he came to a stop it was next to a brick pillar that stretched up to the curved ceiling, and acted almost like a wave breaker for the mass of people.

Eugene let go of Petunia's hand and her fingers twitched as if they missed his secure grasp. But Eugene didn't notice, he was bending towards his trunk and tapping his fingers against it.

Usually his behaviour would have made Petunia curious or wary but right now she still felt like she was lagging behind.

Why did he walk away? Why didn't he continue to talk to Lily? Why was he still paying attention to Petunia, the ugly, mundane, mean sister?

Why "… aren't you curious about Lily?"

Eugene refocused on Petunia. His deep brown eyes wandered over her face but his tone was as casual as usual. "Your little sister? Why would I be curious about her?"

"Because she's …" pretty and magical and nice. But the words refused to come out, echoing in Petunia's hollow chest instead.

Even though not a word had left her lips, Eugene still laughed as if he heard her. "I think you're much more interesting, Petals."

Petunia froze. All the background noise, the incessant chatter of the crowd, the clacking of heels and suitcases on the floor, the sibilant hiss of steam from the locomotive suddenly went quiet. For a second just him and her existed, his chocolate-brown eyes twinkling and his lips hooked into a too-wide, teasing grin.

And then the moment was shattered by a loud honk. Petunia's heart skipped a beat in shock while the noise echoed through the whole station.

Eugene turned his head to glance at the red locomotive. "Already so late? I'll better get going, otherwise I'll have to fly to Hogwarts and I hate being summoned by the ministry."

He took a folded paper which was wiggling out of his suitcase. It looked antique, the edges of it already yellowed and brittle.

"I wanted to give you this. It's one of my grandma's notes and I thought it'll make a nice surprise. When's your birthday by the way?"

"September third," Petunia answered on autopilot.

"A bit early for a gift then," Eugene mused before a second honk made him tsk . "Don't forget to invite me. See you, Petals, don't slack on our letters."

And with those last words he gripped his trunk, gave her a wink and disappeared into the crowd which was already streaming towards the train. His golden head of hair was swallowed by a whirl of black, brown, blond and red and Petunia lost sight of him from one blink to the next.

What had just happened? Today had been supposed to be their last contact, it was supposed to be her chance to let go of all her illusions. And instead … instead he hadn't been charmed by Lily. He'd given her something that belonged to his grandmother before disappearing after they hadn't even talked for more than a few minutes.

And now Petunia was standing here, an old paper clutched between her prickling fingers and more confused than ever before. Slowly she redirected her attention to the note, unfolding it. The old parchment smelled lightly of vanilla and dust and her eyes wandered towards the title which was written in a cursive and elegant hand.

Riding and flying Thestrals - how are they worse than Hippogriffs?