Chapter Eight
Phantom on Butterfly Wings

Neo's father was very sympathetic and she was allowed to stay in his cabin. Her journey there was less then eventful. She drove as numbly as she could. She kept the music high and her thoughts low, afraid that she'd turn right around if the reality of where she was going ever set in. She stopped only once to get some food, gas, and a single red rose. The scenery slowly changed with out her even realizing it. After what seemed like an eternity she reached the arch marking the start of the McArgea family property. The sun panted a golden hallow over the dense trees to her left, and even though it was the first warm day of the season, she shivered.

More then once she had stood at this very place in her retched dreams. In the din of the night she listened to his place scream. It didn't want her here, not tonight. But Petunia didn't listen; she listened to no one but herself any more.

The cabin itself reminisced of days long passed. Its cheerful fire, its cozy bed, its over stuffed furniture, and the many pictures of Neo and herself directly contradicted Petunia's new "give a damn about no one but yourself" attitude. They burned their way into her esophagus, making her choke up with tears.

She forcibly wiped them off and pointed her finger at a picture of Neo, screaming "No! No more tears! I could drown in all the tears I've shed for you. You don't deserve them anymore!" With that everything stopped; the mounting feeling that she had ingested poison, the hum of so many passionate nights, and the increasing density of the room.

She stood in the middle of the small cabin for a moment, expecting it to explode any second now. The urge struck her to through all the pictures into the fire, so she fallowed it with zeal. She sat cross-legged in front of the fire, watching as every lighthearted image burned, bubbled, and twisted into hot gray goop.

She fell into an uneasy sleep in front of the fire. The fumes warped and skewed her grasp on negation. Heavy eyes folded back and opened the doorway to the beast of truth, the very same beast she refused to acknowledge. Past the thick wooden walls and dense trees tops, past the stars in the sky and the constitution of oblivion, he came to her.

Petunia was laying, face down on the floor, dreaming her sweet innocent dreams, when Neo touched her. His hand pulled her out of her skin into the realm that exists between the shadow of daylight and the face of the blue moon. Only in this realm could they talk with out fear or restriction, only there could they be free. Petunia laid there with her eyes closed, relishing his warm caress, not daring to believe it wasn't a dream.

Eyes still closed she felt his lips touch hers. They were hot, unyielding, and almost hungry in the way they tasted her live flesh. His hand ran down her back and lifted her from the floor. Fare too quickly for Petunia's tastes it was over; he had dematerialized in her arms. She stood on her knees, lips tingling, eyes burning, and heart resonating with an unmistakable beat. "Oh Neo," she said into thin air. "Why do you insist on torturing me like this?"

"Because you refuse to remember me," said a soft voice from behind her.

Petunia spun around on the floor and then saw him, standing magnificently by the door, a faint glow around him. "Neo!" Petunia screamed before getting up and running toward him. But before she reached him he backed away and stared at her with a stony expression. Petunia's smile faded as she said, "I could never forget you. You know that?"

He shook his head with out taking his eyes off her. "No," he said, "you remember my body. You remember what we shared in that bed," he said tilting his head to the corner. "But what about what we shared out side these walls? What of them?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"I think you do. I know you do." He spoke slow and eloquently, like he had been basking in the breath of the universe. He casually walked around to the other side of the couch, dragging his hand over the fabric as he went. "Do you remember what drew you to me in the first place?"

Petunia just stood there. She had never been asked such an honest question in her life, and if truth be told, she couldn't remember.

Neo sensed this and said, "Perhaps my reason will help you. When I ran into you out side that library, I was a child. I had run countless number of women into the ground just for fun. And you were so much younger then me. What could you possibly know about life, about love? I fond your little crush on me amusing, no matter how well I knew you from my dreams. But you didn't give up; you persisted and made your intentions blatantly clear. No other woman had ever done that. You surprised me. And that's what made me put my guards down. You once told Lily that I had thought you to live. Well you did just the same for me. For the first time I thought of life as something more then trivial, as much more then a game. You brought me out of my infancy long after I'd left home. I couldn't help but fall in love with you."

Petunia stood there, feeling a little reprimanded, and almost silly for carrying on the way she had been. "When you met me," she started, letting herself talk through her heart, "I saw in you… everything I wanted to be. I saw the strength I could never handle. I saw the heroism and love for all creatures I thought only existed in fairy tales. And so much more then that, I felt complete around you. The first breath I took after meeting you... was the first breath I had ever taken in my life. I felt real, I felt… safe. I hadn't felt safe in so long, not since I was in the arms of my sister as a small child."

Neo looked down on her with the kind of side grace that makes the stars fade into unforgiving gray skies. "Then why are you running from her? What could possibly convince you that hiding from Lily, from the one person that could help you, is a good idea?"

Her hands shook as crushing winds bore down on her most precious of lies. With the force of a hurricane a single, small tear drew a line down her face like a snake across desert sands. "I don't think the end defends the means. I don't want her to take you away from me. If- if I could just hold on to my independence from her, then at least in my fantasies we can still be together. Before you I relied on Lily to keep me from falling apart. As wonderful as they were, I don't want to go back to those days."

"So you would let her die for pride's sake?"

It took Petunia a moment for her to realize that he was talking about the giants and this Voldemort character. "There's nothing left for me in this life. Everything has been ripped away from me; I can't even have children anymore. There should be nothing left in this life for her either. It's only fare."

"No children," he said, raising his eyebrow. "I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you. Leave this place, now." And with that he turned and disappeared through the front door.

Petunia stood there, wide eyed and heart racing. Could he possibly mean what she thought he meant? "Neo, wait!" she yelled, picking up her coat and scrambling through the door.

It was very dark outside, and there was no sign of life anywhere. She strained her eyes, looking as far down the path as nature would allow. The deepest core of her soul begged the powers that be for some sort of sign that he was still out there. Then, with a great leap of relief, she saw something move in the distance, or at lest she thought she saw something.

She ran in that direction, not caring if it were real or not. The gravel cut into her bare feet but she didn't care. She picked up speed with every galloping step, and soon she couldn't stop even if she wanted to. The trees raced pass her, stretching their great leaved fingers out at her in dispirit attempts to catch her. Perched atop one of these wise trees was a raven, its deep yellow eyes piercing the cold night sky. It cawed and stretched out its black wings, catching the breath of omitted instinct. It soared over her head just as she slowed, then stopped. She was, again, standing before the curtain hiding her majestic gazebo.

She could barely support her own weight anymore so she stayed motionless, panting like a sled dog. The hairs on her arms stood up and screamed, terrified as they bore witness to the gates of Hell. Petunia paid it no attentions, if this was were Neo wanted her to be then so be it. With cold slashed hands she threw back the curtain.

There it stood, just as she had left it. A goddess above all others it still sang to her; quiet and soothing in contrast to her delirious heart. She took several cautious steps forward and stretched out her pink hand. The very tip of her finger ever so gently touched the nearest pole, as though she were afraid it would explode the second it met her skin. Slowly she moved forward, right into the middle of the transparent floor.

She closed her eyes and envisioned Neo's arms wrapped tightly around her. It was so cold her hands started to hurt, so she placed them in her pockets. But she withdrew them at once; something sharp had stabbed the inside of her fingernail. She watched as the blood slowly oozed out of the cut. It served to prove that she was actually alive, she'd been holding to the contrary for quite some time.

Sticking her finger in her mouth she reached around and used the opposite hand to pull out the culprit. It was the rose she had intended to bring to that very spot the fallowing evening. She raised it to eye level and watched it. It seemed to beat like a heart, it pulsated rhythmically even though there was no wind and her hand was perfectly still. Then, as gently as tracing paper caught in the wind, a butterfly landed on the tip of the rose. The pulsating stopped the second its tiny insect legs touched it.

The butterfly opened its beautiful wings revealing a pearl colored design on its pure white body. Petunia had never seen such a butterfly, and come to think of it, she'd never seen a butterfly at this of the year. Something from the furthest corner of her mind was triggered, it's voice trickled up from her subconscious as carefully as a mothers healing touch, and presented itself anew. "I shall come back as a butterfly," it said, "and swing on the stars above your head as you sleep."

Petunia stared at the insect with her mouth hanging wide open. She stuck her index finger right up close to it and the butterfly walked, casually onto it. Petunia exhaled very slowly and concentrated hard on her own breath. A small giggle interrupted one breath, then another, and soon she completely lost control. She stood there laughing hysterically at the butterfly on her finger, her eyes misting over with mirth. It was the first time she'd laughed seen the supposed forty year old man's birthday party.

She wiped off her eyes and set both the butterfly and the rose on the floor. She smiled and said, "Fly, Neo. Fly above the moon itself and never look back. Go on. I'll be alright now."

But she was so very wrong about that. Reflected in the crystal she saw something that made her blood run cold. She turned, looked up, and screamed like she had never screamed before. Her shout frightened several far away birds and forced them to take flight. Towering twenty-three feet above her she saw the dirty, bearded face of a very maniacal giant. He smiled wickedly at her and sent it's hand plummeting toward Earth. Petunia ducked, still screaming, and through her arms over her head. The giants hand crashed through the top of the gazebo, shattering it and sending shards of glittering crystal in every direction. Petunia felt the humongous hand wrap around her body and she was lifted into the air.

The giant turned her around and Petunia didn't struggle for fear of being dropped. The raven that had swooped passed her earlier was perched on the giant's shoulder, evidently it was his messenger.

"Say goodbye to your quaint surroundings, Muggle. You won't be seeing it alive again," the giant said. Petunia slumped in a dead faint.