Disclaimer: CLEAR! *defibrillates Starstruck* Is this thing alive? You bet it is, and oh yeah, guess what? We still don't own Harry Potter.


Chapter Sixteen

Heaven Sent


"Lily," said James in amazement. He was grinning from ear to ear. "What the bloody hell are you doing in a tree?"

"What the bloody hell are you doing in Vernon Dursley's bedroom?" Lily returned. She too was smiling in spite of it all. In an instant, the sight of him had lifted the dark cloud from over her head and silenced all her anxieties. James was here. He'd never left. The relief hit her so intensely that she almost started laughing.

"Bit of a long story," he said. "Here, d'you want to–"

"TAKE MY ARM!" Vernon flailed as he reached for Petunia, who was clinging so desperately to her perch a few feet back that they might have to call the fire brigade. In the process, his elbow knocked Lily off balance and would have sent her plummeting to her death, had James not reached out to steady her.

"Oi, mate, calm down," said James. "Petunia, are you alright?" he called.

"Mm-hmm," the feeble voice came back. "I'm good here. Just leave me."

"I will not," said Vernon, but James placed himself squarely in the window frame and forced the other boy to step back. He extended both arms toward Lily.

"D'you trust me?"

"More than I trust this branch," said Lily, as she shifted her weight into James and half climbed, half fell into the window. In that moment she became very aware of his bare chest and cursed her knees for going weak - literally, there was a terrifying moment when her legs dangled and her feet scrabbled against the bricks. Then, a second pair of hands joined James' and together they hauled her to safety.

"Alright there?" said Remus.

"I reckon so," said Lily. "Is everyone–"

She looked past him into the room, and the impressiveness of Vernon's setup struck her: a huge projector screen dominated one wall, a multi-layered desk with at least ten monitors sat against another with a futuristic-looking racer chair, and a large, plush recliner near the window was surrounded by shelves upon shelves of comic books. His parents' bed had been done away with completely, replaced by a huge white floor mattress that faced the projector wall. There, lounging amongst the umpteen throw pillows, were Peter and Sirius, mashing controllers and staring intently at the screen in front of them.

"Prongs man, you've died like nine times, what the fuck– wait, Lulu?!"

"Hi, Sirius."

"Ha! Got you!" said Peter triumphantly.

"Dammit," said Sirius. "Okay, just give us like thirty seconds–"

The screen froze and a pause menu appeared. James had picked up the controller he'd dropped earlier. "Bit of a crisis here, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Petunia!" Vernon was still crying desperately out the window. "It's alright. Just stay calm. I'll pull you in."

"NO!" was Petunia's panicked response. "Please, don't touch me! I'm going to fall."

"Twiggie's here?" said Sirius. He shot up to get a look outside. "Oh, shit. Twiggie's become one with the twigs."

"You are sopping," said James, touching Lily's elbow and sizing up her mangled, sap-stained henley. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Hmm?" So much was happening that Lily wasn't sure where to focus. "Yeah, I'm good. Er, we should probably–" she went to the window and craned over Vernon "–Petunia, do you think you can climb in?"

"For the last time, no!" said Petunia. "This was all a terrible idea."

"Why did you two climb up there, anyway?" asked Remus.

Lily felt suddenly indignant. "Well, Vern wasn't answering, so–"

"The door intercom?" asked Vernon matter-of-factly.

"What intercom? We were throwing rocks at your window."

Vernon let out a sort of "puh" sound as if he'd never heard something so stupid. He knocked on the retracted window pane. "This is military-grade bulletproof glass. Wouldn't hear a gaggle of geese if they crashed into the other side."

"That's probably not a good thing," said Lily.

"Can you climb down?" James called out to Petunia.

"I–" Petunia looked up from under her raincoat hood, breathing heavily. She seemed to take in the faces in the window all at once - each of them staring at her - and her cheeks turned from bluish to a pale shade of pink. When she spoke again, her voice was hard. "It's fine. I'll be fine. I just need a minute."

"Can we get you a ladder or something?" Sirius put forth.

"I'm not a cat," barked Petunia.

"Just trying to help."

Petunia sized up her descent, then started to slowly lower herself to the next foothold. She whimpered when her shoes slipped on the bark. It was a long process, and nail-biting for everyone involved, but at last she plopped into the grass, straightened herself up, sniffed, and brushed the tree debris from her front. She wouldn't look at anyone.

"I'll get the door," said Vernon, taking off at a full sprint.

Lily turned then to the Marauders. "So does anyone want to explain this, or…?"

"Oh, right." James cleared his throat. "Well, Dursley sort of saved our lives as it happens…"

Sirius carried on. "We tried to cut and run after your parents chucked us out–"

"Your dad is really scary," said Peter.

"–but then we remembered that we don't have a car, or money, or clothes, or anywhere to go…"

"Not to mention we weren't all on board with leaving," said James pointedly.

"Vernon found us on the street corner and offered us a place to stay," Remus summarized.

"Temporarily," James added. "He's not really our biggest fan."

"Not your biggest fan," Sirius corrected. "Verno and I are bros now."

"I find that hard to believe," said Lily.

"Anyway," said James. "Here we are, squatting in another house on the same street with even fewer belongings and even less clothing than we started with." He gestured in comical defeat at his bare torso.

Lily felt her gaze drift downward, but then she remembered something. "Crap, your guitar. I've left it out on the lawn."

James perked up. "You brought my guitar?"

But Lily was craning out the window again, and there was nothing left at the base of the tree. For half a second she feared the worst, until Vernon and Petunia came clattering into the room with all their burdens in tow. That is to say, Vernon was carrying everything - probably at his own insistence. Petunia, meanwhile, was impressively undefiled after having taken off her raincoat. A few smudges of dirt on her shorts were the only sign left of her near-death experience. Lily knew she could not expect the same good fortune if she were to look in a mirror right now.

The Marauders eyed the luggage inquisitively as Vernon arranged it in a corner. "What's all this for?"

Lily exchanged a glance with Petunia, who was hovering guardedly by the door. "Er, well, we sort of made a midnight escape."

"Escape where?" asked Remus.

There was a long pause. "Well, same as you fools, I suppose. Mum and Dad weren't on board with any of it, so we had to get out first and think later."

Vernon was baffled. "That's not like you, Petunia."

"No. It isn't." Petunia's voice was cold.

"Why'd you come here, though?" Sirius wondered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Vernon. "Why shouldn't they come to a friendly face for shelter and sage advice?"

Lily, meanwhile, was trying to devise an inoffensive rephrasing of "we suspected you of tipping off the paparazzi and using your creeper cams to spy on us." In the end, Petunia saved her.

"That's exactly it," she said. "We saw lights on and we thought Vernon could help us. We had no idea that… that you lot would be here."

"Well, in any case," said Lily, "I'm sure the whole street heard that ruckus in the tree, so we're probably busted."

Vernon strode purposefully to the window and slid it shut, redoing the elaborate lock system that made even less sense from the inside, and then drew the curtains.

He turned to face them, blue light glinting in his glasses. "We'll have to wait and see."


By some miracle, no one disturbed them for the rest of the night, and not a single light turned on in the Evans house across the street. At one point, a shadow moved in the front window and they thought they were caught, but it was only Harry staring out across the street with his luminous eyes. Perhaps luck was on their side - or the fact that it was half past one in the morning and rain was falling on every roof in Privet Drive.

The sisters changed into dry clothes, and the Marauders went right back to their video game. When Lily settled in next to James, he put his arm around her with an automaticness that caught her off guard. He smiled down at her. "Alright?"

"Definitely," said Lily.

"Prongs, you're dying again," said Peter.

James, who was distractedly controlling his character with only the one free hand, didn't seem to care. "Want to take over?" he asked Lily.

She gladly accepted, and got so lost in trying to salvage James' dwindling health bar that she didn't notice Petunia come into the room. When she looked up, her sister was sitting on an ottoman at least two metres away from the others - even though there was plenty of room on the mattress - drily rejecting Vernon's insistence that she take his La-Z-Boy, his gaming chair, or any other seat in the room. Lily fidgeted awkwardly under James' arm, feeling suddenly as though she were gloating.

"Is this the plan then?" she asked when the bout was over. "Take down Val by sitting on our arses and hitting buttons?"

"Lulu, Lulu, Lulu," said Sirius. "We don't use the 'p' word around here. We've outlawed it from this room, in fact. Isn't that right, Verno?"

"I don't think that notion was officially passed–"

"Verno gets it. We all need to recuperate a little from the ordeal we've been through." He waved his controller. "'Nother round, lads?"

"Have you been doing this all day?" asked Petunia disapprovingly.

"Oh, no," said Vernon. "I put this on so they would stop what they were doing before."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "And what was that?"

"Come on, man," said James. "Don't sell us out."

"Yeah, Verno, I thought we were friends," said Sirius.

"Please do tell, Vernon," Petunia implored, but she was smirking at Sirius when she said it.

Vernon pressed a button at his desk, and just like that the projector screen changed from Super Slam Boys to a completely different scene: burning blue lights, a stage, and a packed moshpit of concertgoers in tiger-striped t-shirts. Lily couldn't be sure, but she had a sneaking suspicion that they'd been watching their own concert footage and reminiscing about the good old days.

"Is this–?"

"Animal Within Tour in Rio de Janeiro." The words seemed to fall out of Petunia's mouth without her permission.

Sirius scoffed. "How in the hell–"

"–are you still questioning our fandom's encyclopedic brain?" finished Remus, smacking his bandmate up the back of the head.

"We truly don't deserve them," said James in what felt a little too much like a peace offering to Petunia.

"You've got that right, at least," she answered without looking at him.

It could've been left at that. Petunia's words could've been taken as a sarcastic dig, but there was a special kind of venom in the way she said it, and in the way she shut down James of all people. One Marauder in particular was not willing to let it go.

"I'm sorry, what?" said Sirius.

Petunia offered a despondent shrug. "Well, you don't. That's just my opinion."

"Yeah, well it's a shitty opinion. You don't know anything."

Petunia was silent.

"Right. I get it. Just because your precious James is dating someone who's not you, you figure he's betrayed thousands of people who thrive on his singleness and are ready to cancel him for wanting the slightest bit of privacy in his love life."

"Padfoot, stop," said James.

"No, please tell me how we 'don't deserve' the people who accosted Remus at the hospital when he was literally too ill to get away from them. Because I kind of agree, we don't deserve them, but not in the way you mean it."

"Padfoot."

"Or do you mean to s–"

"That's not what I'm talking about!" snapped Petunia. "That's not what I'm talking about at all."

"Let her speak!" announced Vernon, though everyone had already fallen silent at Petunia's outburst.

"You… you have a relationship with your fans whether you like it or not. You have to realize that when you disappeared this summer, you basically ghosted them all."

"We didn't have a choice," said Remus.

"I know. I understand that because I've been privy to the whole thing. But they weren't, and they still trusted you enough to keep defending you to people who said you weren't coming back. My friend Sophie, her younger sister punched a boy who said you were all dead, and she got suspended for it."

"Go Soapy Junior," said Lily.

"And on top of having to trust you, they had to worry about you too," Petunia went on. "Did you know people hired actual private investigators?"

"Shitty ones, clearly," said Sirius.

"That's not the point. These people depend on your music for comfort, and they– they had to worry about your wellbeing for weeks, with nothing to go on except for each other's theories, and when you finally showed up again, of course they all flocked to see for themselves - and yes, that may have been a little misguided, but… most of the girls at A and E were what, thirteen? Fourteen? I can't see how you're making them out to be the villains here. Not when you market yourselves the way you do."

"The way the label does," said James softly.

"Either way," Petunia went on, "I know some of us seem crazy, or shallow, or blinded by some false perception of who you are, but for the most part we're just… people who really like you and your music. And apparently you just see us as another thing to run away from, so that's great."

Her words hung there, the six other people in the room wearing sombre-bordering-on-sheepish expressions as they were forced to process that Petunia Evans, Marauderette extraordinaire, had at some point acquired an alarming amount of perspective.

"You don't know," said Sirius in a markedly less aggressive tone. "You don't know what it's like for us."

"And you don't know what it's like for us," said Petunia.

No one else said anything for a long time.

"I'm sorry," said James, "if I was ever… I mean, no. I'm sorry that I was a prick to you. I never thought… well, anyway. I'm sorry."

Lily had the sense she was intruding on something private - a feeling further compounded by the fact that James' arm was still loosely draped over her shoulders. She couldn't bring herself to look at Petunia, so she had no idea how her sister responded to the sudden apology. She did feel James' sincerity in the timbre of his voice and the way his body tensed up beside her. She had to wonder how he would feel if he saw the carpet of mutilated James Potters on Petunia's bedroom floor.

"I appreciate that," came Petunia's response after some delay. She too sounded sincere, but not quite ready to forgive.

Vernon stood up and cleared his throat. "Well," he said. "That was nice. Who wants ice cream?"


The night stretched on. Three a.m. found them in more or less the same place, save that Remus excused himself to bed - "there are bunks in my old room," said Vernon; "first come, first served" - and Petunia migrated onto a beige pouf "for a better view of the screen." She didn't partake in the praline ice cream everyone else was enjoying, but she did ask if Vernon had any peach preserves, a request he fulfilled so excitedly that he fell down the cellar stairs on his way to get them.

It wasn't clear who unpaused the concert video, but somehow or another, that was what they ended up watching for the next forty-five minutes. Lily, for one, had never seen more than a few fragments of a Marauders performance, and many of the songs they performed here were new to her. The Marauders themselves were comically enraptured, making frequent comments like "look, this is where Remus drops his stick," "what was my hair?" and "god, I miss concerts." When Lily chanced to look at Petunia, she appeared to be using every muscle in her body not to sing along.

Animal Within came to an end with a dynamic encore stage of "Everybody Knows A Rat", which featured a lengthy tambourine solo by Peter, a choreographed breakdancing segment, and a human pyramid.

"This is the best thing I've ever seen," Lily declared when the song was over and the fireworks erupted.

"A woman of taste," said James. A wry smile crept onto his face. "I must say though, we did it better in Stockholm.

Sirius' face went dark. "Shut your stupid face right now."

But Vernon was already typing it into the YouTube search bar, and a few seconds later the clip began. The stage setup was the same, as were the first two minutes of the song - it was only when the breakdancing began that everything fell apart. Sirius was setting up to do a backflip, which they'd seen him execute quite impressively in the Rio video. "Let's go!" he shouted into his mic as he took a running start up the catwalk. Only this time… he didn't stop running. His torso pitched forward and he careened into an off-kilter sprint until he wholly disappeared over the edge of the stage.

"I'm sorry," said Lily, gasping for breath. "What just happened?"

But that wasn't the worst of it. At that moment, the camera panned back to Sirius' bandmates and found every one of them on the ground in hysterics, unable to continue the choreo or even get their next lines out. "Every…" James wheezed. "Everybody… fuck."

"Had to issue an apology for 'lack of professionalism'," said real-life James, shaking his head. "I fully blame Padfoot."

"Blame the loose tape on the stage," said Sirius. "I could've been seriously hurt."

"But you weren't, and that's why we can laugh about it." To Lily, he said: "There was no tape."

Lily couldn't resist piping up with a request. "Hey Vern, can you search 'James Potter falls out of the sky'?" She heard Petunia stifle a snort.

James leaned away from her, appalled. "Who corrupted you?"

"Your sisters."

"I am genuinely terrified for the day you three meet."

Even as she cried laughing at James' harness fail for the eighty-fifth time, the thought sat there teasing the back of her brain. James wants you to meet his family.

"I've got one!" said Peter. Lily had all but forgotten he was there. "Search 'Peter's killer backup vocals'."

"Pete, what?" laughed Sirius. "You make that sound like it's an actual compilatio– holy shit, four million views?!"

"Peter stans are rather committed," said Petunia wisely.

And so they sat through three painfully close-up minutes of Peter belting falsettos. James snaked his hand down Lily's arm and interlaced his fingers with hers, tracing patterns on her palm with his thumb. When Lily winced suddenly, he stopped and turned her hand over in his.

"How'd you manage that?" he asked. There was an angry red gash from the thorn she'd gripped too tightly, all dried up but still smarting just enough to bother her.

"Tree got me," said Lily. "It's not that bad."

"Come on." He got to his feet and pulled her up by the other hand. "Vernon, my good man. Would you happen to have a first aid kit?"

Vernon, who was laughing at something on his phone, didn't seem to hear.

"Vernon?" James repeated.

"Hmm? Oh. Yeah, bathroom down the hall, under the sink." He snorted. "Sorry, the GIF version of this is even better." He turned the screen toward them; apparently, he was still hung up on James' "fall from the sky."

"Always glad to entertain," said James bitterly. He started to pull Lily toward the door.

"Really, it's fine," she protested.

"Nonsense," he said. "Doctor Potter will fix you up right away."

"Ew," said Sirius as they left the room.

Lily was starting to catch on as he steered her into the bathroom. "Did you really just use my injury as an excuse to–"

He turned to face her suddenly; he was wearing just the sort of devilish grin she'd imagined, and their bodies were only inches apart. "You are a terrible person," she said as he leaned in to kiss her.

It had only been a day, she realized, but having been so thoroughly immersed in the fear of losing him - that made this reunion all the sweeter. Her hands crept up James' chest to rest gently on either side of his neck while both of his splayed across her back, pulling her close. They kissed perhaps longer than they'd ever kissed before, and when they finally pulled apart, James' cheeks were flushed red.

"I really do care about your hand," he promised, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "But I've also been dying to kiss you since you got here."

"Is it because I was sitting in a tree?"

"Ha ha. In retrospect, I ought to have joined you."

"Reckon the branch would've broken."

"Rude."

It was a while before they got to the first aid kit, but eventually, Lily sat on the closed toilet while James meticulously cleaned her palm, applied ointment, and wrapped a small piece of gauze around her hand.

"I'm really glad you're here," she blurted out as he worked.

"Me too," said James with a smile. She really thought he was going to leave it at that, but then he added: "I don't know what you'd do without Doctor Potter."


"I'm bored," said Sirius. The words sparked deja vu not only for him but for everyone else in the room. Even Vernon, who'd been cohabitating with him for less than a day. While Sirius and Peter were still sprawled in the pile of pillows, Petunia had moved to the recliner and Vernon had pulled up his computer chair beside her at a respectful distance.

"Go to bed then," said their gracious host.

"That is a terrible solution to boredom," said Sirius.

"A great solution for public nuisances, though," said Petunia.

"Pete, they're being mean." He turned to his only ally. "Pete!"

"Huh?" he was somehow still engrossed in the endless shuffle of YouTube compilations–autoplay had just landed on "Moonfoot moments I think about a lot."

"Pete, what the hell. Don't watch this bullshit."

"What does 'Moonfoot' mean?" asked Vernon.

"It means it's time to turn this off," said Sirius.

"I agree," said Petunia. "I've had quite enough of your faces for one day."

Unsurprisingly, Vernon complied and turned off the projector.

"So," said Sirius. "What else is there to do in this magical technology wonderland?"

"You do realize it's almost four in the morning," said Petunia.

"Is it really?" Sirius tilted his head. "Tell me, Verno, what do you normally do at four in the morning?"

Vernon got that glint in his eye again. "Well, it's a great time to trade stocks in Shanghai."

"Okay, but not that." When Vernon just shrugged, Sirius groaned and slid into a completely horizontal position. "Well, joke's on me for wanting to do something fun."

"Seems like Prongs and Lily are having fun," said Peter suggestively. "Why don't you go join them?"

"Don't ever say that again," said Sirius, while Petunia audibly gagged. They had been gone a while… snogging, he presumed. But he couldn't blame them for wanting some privacy from this bunch.

The seconds ticked by. Sirius threw a pillow repeatedly at the ceiling, catching it against his chest every time. On the tenth catch, he got distracted by blinking lights coming from inside the closet. "What's in there?" he ventured.

Vernon fidgeted indignantly. "Even if I wanted to tell you, I doubt you'd understand."

"Well, that's not fair. Let me guess - you're part of an underground government initiative to spy on us mere mortals through our microwave buttons."

"I rest my case," said Vernon. "And no. I only use my powers for good."

Something clicked in Sirius' brain. "That's right. Didn't you do some super secret hacking for us back in the day?"

Vernon scoffed. "Tracking, not hacking. And I wouldn't say I did it for you, exactly."

"Ouch."

"Also," added Petunia, "that wasn't 'back in the day.' That was literally last week."

"No bloody way." Sirius was genuinely confounded at the realization. In some ways, it felt like it had been twelve years.

"That tracking thing," said Peter out of the blue. "Why hasn't Val done it to us?"

A valid question. Sirius turned from his friend to Vernon without commentary.

"Well," said Vernon, "does any of you have a working cell phone?"

"Pete's the only one who brought his. We sort of bailed in a hurry."

Peter coughed. "Yeah, and mine's… well, I dropped it when we crashed the car and it hasn't had reception since." He let out a beleaguered sigh.

"That's probably a blessing," said Vernon, "and the reason he hasn't been able to find you. That, and not everyone possesses the skills that I do."

"You do seem to be quite the terrifying cyber genius," Sirius remarked.

"Honestly, though, I'm surprised he didn't catch on when your fans did," said Vernon. "Even if he doesn't know his IPs from his DNSes, he should've noticed a swarm that size."

"Marauderettes work quickly," said Petunia. "And I imagine DeMort, like the rest of you, wouldn't have thought to look to them for intel."

Vernon conceded with a nod. "Well said."

"He won't be far behind, though," said Sirius darkly. This helplessness, the futility of it all, frustrated him to no end. He felt like a rat in a cage. "Can we do something about it? Lay a false trail to buy time or something?"

"Time to do what?" said Peter dully. "Flee the country?"

"That's a little extreme," said Petunia. "Besides, the fans only leaked the street name - not Mum and Dad's house, and definitely not Vern's. He can hardly search every place on the street without the police being called."

"Police might also be an issue," said Sirius.

"You'll be safe here," Vernon assured them.

"Still." Sirius gestured at the walls of technology that surrounded them. "With all of this at our disposal, can't we make some kind of counterstrike? I don't know. Tank his shares? Expose his culty past once and for all?"

"James says we need more evidence," said Peter.

"Yeah, well James doesn't doesn't seem to give a shit at the moment, does he?"

The same uncomfortable silence filled the room. Sirius clutched the pillow to his stomach, having grown tired of his little game.

Then, Vernon shocked the room when he uttered: "I could hack his Twitter account."

Sirius stared at him wide-eyed. "Vernon Dursley," he said, using the boy's real name for the first time ever. "I thought you only used your powers for good."

"The man is a known tax evader and exploiter of labour rights."

"In that case, let's do it."

"I don't know, guys." Peter looked nervous. "What if he uses this to track us?"

"Not an issue. I've got threefold IP protection on all my rigs." Vernon had rolled back to his desk and was already typing furiously. Whatever he was doing, the screen was changing too fast for even Sirius' brain to keep up. He stopped when he reached the Val-Mart Twitter page, however. "Unless… Petunia, do you think this is a bad idea?"

Caught in the middle of examining her nail beds, Petunia glanced up. Then she shrugged. "Don't let me spoil the fun."

"Alright then," said Vernon - and, roughly thirty seconds later: "We're in."

"You're the man, Verno," said Sirius, putting his hands on the boy's shoulders. Vernon flinched.

"No problem. You lads enjoy," he said, vacating the chair and going to sit on the floor by Petunia.

Sirius rubbed his hands together. "C'mon, Pete. You gonna help me or what? I'll let you do the first post."

Peter obliged, seeming to leave his doubts behind as he pulled up on the ottoman. He sat comically low next to Sirius; from a rear view, they were quite the partners in crime. Peter clicked hesitantly in the "What's happening?" box, looking around as if the police were about to kick in the door. Then he started to slowly type.

When he pressed enter, the most recent update from Val-Mart ("Sizzling summer savings on charcoal grills - don't wait!") was shuffled down to make way for an important announcement:

I like big butts and I cannot lie.

"Nice," said Sirius. "Okay, my turn." He wrote:

Hey guys, how many sweatshops is too many sweatshops? Asking for a friend.

Peter high-fived him and took over.

911! Flushed myself down the toilet again.

Sirius' next contribution:

42/M/Mayfair. Greasy Russian mobster looking for someone to pet my hair and call me pretty. Serious inquiries only. Must hate human decency.

Pete followed this up with a GIF of a dancing banana.

They carried on this back-and-forth for some time, collapsing on the desk in stitches as they saturated the company feed with absolute idiocy. It was therapeutic, Sirius could not deny. He could probably churn out Tweets for hours, but Pete's slow typing forced him to exercise at least some restraint. While the other Marauder pondered his next composition at length, Sirius tuned into the quiet conversation that was happening to his left.

"–wasn't sure how you'd feel about me taking them in after the last time we talked, so I just hope it's alright by you."

"It's fine," said Petunia without expression. "Don't worry about… what I said. It's not important."

"Of course it's important," said Vernon. "I mean it. Just say the word and I'll send them on their way."

"You don't need to do that."

"I'm just looking out for you."

"Mate, she's a big girl," Sirius butted in. He knew he oughtn't start a row, but he couldn't stop himself.

"I beg your pardon?" said Vernon. "I'd ask that you check yourself there. Petunia is particularly sensitive to the word 'big'–"

"Oh my god," said Petunia, dropping her head into her hands.

"Are you alright, my– I mean… Are you alright, Petunia?"

She breathed out heavily through her nostrils. "He's not wrong, Vern. You've been sweet, but I don't need you to fight my battles. On every other account he's just a rude prick, though." She shot a withering look at Sirius; he clenched his jaw, knowing he deserved it for the things he'd said earlier.

While Vernon produced a scattered apology, Sirius turned back to Peter, who'd been furiously typing this whole time. "What are you writing, a novel? You do know there's a character limit…"

"I think we've been kicked out," said Peter. Sure enough, the blue "log in" bar had reappeared at the bottom of the screen. Their wall of nonsense, however, was still intact for now.

"Ah well," said Sirius. "I s'pose we've had our fun. Thanks for the laughs, Verno."

Vernon grunted in response.

The door opened, and in walked James and Lily at last. Lily had a gauze wrap on her hand, but it was evident from the looks on their faces that medical treatment had been the least of their diversions.

"Er… what did we miss?" said James.

"Only the public humiliation of one Valentino DeMort," Sirius announced.

"What?!" Lily squeaked.

"They hacked his Twitter," said Petunia. "Don't worry - Vern's computer has extra security or whatever. You've got something on your neck, by the way."

Lily's eyes grew wide as she hastily rearranged her hair.

"Right," said Vernon. "I think it's time for bed. There's one bunk left in the other room; Petunia, Lily, you can have the bed in here. Plenty of floor space for the rest of you." He narrowed his eyes in turn at Sirius and James. "Next to the bunks, I mean." He was talking mostly to Petunia when he said: "I'll be on the sofa downstairs if you need anything."

"Got it," said Sirius amicably. "Thanks, Verno. Just one thing…"

"What?"

"Could someone please get my boy Prongs a shirt?"


Lily drifted in and out of consciousness at her leisure. The sun could have been up for hours and she wouldn't have known; Vernon's curtains were so heavy that they blocked out all the light when fully drawn. Sleep was a beautiful thing. Not only had she been up until five in the morning, but she'd spent the next half-hour in a silent battle for the thick woolen blanket Vern had given to her and Petunia. Her sister kept managing to cocoon herself so perfectly in it that Lily had to log-roll her sleeping form in order to get a corner for herself. The Evans sisters hadn't shared a bed in years; Lily was beginning to remember why.

"Lily." An imploring voice cut through the veil of sleep.

Well, that and Petunia's annoying habit of waking up far too early and expecting everyone else in the room to do the same.

"Mmmph," said Lily.

"I think there's someone at the door."

"S'not my house." Lily buried her face deeper in the pillow.

"Lily."

She heard the second knock, a sharp rapping of knuckles so hard they could've been made of metal. Then, the doorbell rang - loudly, and from several places in the house, including this very room.

"Why isn't Vern answering?" said Lily.

"What if it's Mum and Dad?" Petunia looked fearful.

They got up without a word and tiptoed as fast as they could down the hallway. A bleary-eyed Remus peeked out from the Marauders' room. "What's going on?"

"Stay in there," said Lily. "Don't any of you come out until we say so."

He looked mildly alarmed but just nodded and closed the door as the sisters made for the stairs. Thankfully, the Dursleys' house was laid out such that they emerged in the kitchen, out of sight of the front door. Vernon was there too, leaning on the counter and staring intently at the wall.

"What are you–?"

"SHHH!" he said. When he turned and saw who it was, he motioned them closer. "You might want to see this."

Upon closer inspection, Lily was amazed (though not at all surprised) to see that Vernon was watching some kind of security feed. Two LCD screens displayed various parts of the house. One was zoomed in solely on the front door cam, and it gave them a shockingly clear view of the person standing there.

A chill ran down Lily's spine.

It was a woman. Not one she'd seen before, nor one they were ever likely to see in Gryffindale. Tall, thin, and as straight-shouldered as a ballerina, she cut a daunting silhouette in a long black trench coat and aviator glasses. Her pin-straight black hair, slicked back in a high ponytail, had a shock of white in it, and her red lips were pursed impatiently as she stood there with her arms crossed. In the driveway behind her, they could see the tinted windows of a black SUV.

"Any idea who she is?" Vernon whispered.

"No, but…" Lily inhaled and shared an uneasy look with Petunia. "She's got to be one of Val's."

The woman rang the bell again and echoed it with several loud taps on the door.

"I don't understand," said Petunia. "How did she know to look here?"

"Maybe she is trying all the doors like we said," offered Vernon. "Or maybe she's just a Jehovah's Witness or something."

"Looking like that?" said Lily.

"A salesperson then. It could be nothing."

"I have a bad feeling about this," said Petunia.

Whatever the case, this woman was not going to leave anytime soon. Seemingly possessed of a gargantuan patience, she rang the doorbell at decreasing intervals for the next five minutes while the trio panicked inside.

"I'm going to answer it," said Vernon finally.

"You can't!" said Petunia.

"We're not joking when we say his people are really dangerous," said Lily.

"If she is one of his," said Vernon, "she's likely here for recon purposes. So… I'll just throw her off the scent. Trust me, I won't break." He threw his shoulders back and cracked his neck.

"Be careful," said Petunia. For the effect this seemed to have on him, she may as well have kissed him through a train window as he went off to war.

"I will. You two stay here. If I say 'boysenberry' - go upstairs, get the others, and make a break for it." He gave them a nod and strode away.

"Dear god, I hope it doesn't come to that," said Lily.

"Or that," added Petunia when Vernon pulled a knife from the block on the counter and stuck it in his back pocket.

The order to stay put was quickly broken; because the camera only afforded them a view of the porch and not the foyer, Lily crept into the sitting room and crouched behind a sofa so that they could have eyes on Vern as well as the stranger. He appeared to be holding his breath just as much as Lily was when he reached for the lock.

With the door cracked just a few inches, Vern stationed himself in the opening. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"Mr. Dursley, I presume? How kind of you to receive me." The voice that slithered into the house was like smoke and ice, flavoured with a thick eastern European accent.

"Who are you?" asked Vernon.

"It is not important." There was a ruffling of paper. "You are familiar with these men?"

Vernon hesitated. "The Marauders?" he said. "Is this some kind of joke?"

The paper ruffled again, but louder. "Not a joke," the woman snapped. "They are here, are they not? You are harbouring these fugitives."

She knows. Lily's chest contracted painfully. How does she know?

"Yes, and I'm also the King of Britain," said Vernon. "Please leave."

There was a louder noise. Vern staggered backward and a heeled snakeskin boot fell on the welcome mat. Lily heard a tiny gasp from the kitchen.

"Excuse me, you are breaking and entering," said Vernon, his hand fumbling at his back pocket. "I will call the police if you don't get out of my house."

"I only wish to speak with your friends," said the woman. "Tell them to stop this needless game of hide and seek. Things will be much better if you cooperate now." She removed her sunglasses and looked around the room with cold, reptilian eyes. Lily retreated farther behind the sofa.

"They aren't my friends," said Vern. "I've never met them in my life, and this is preposterous."

"Don't lie to me, boy."

"You're on camera," Vernon blurted out, gaining confidence. "I have surveillance all over this place. I could have you charged for trespassing already."

"More lies."

"It's true," said Vern. "My father is the German ambassador. We're very well protected. I just have to press this button and the police will be on their way."

The intruder didn't answer. She must have been considering how much she was willing to risk for what was at stake here. The silence stretched on for so long that Lily grew worried and looked over the couch again; the woman was writing something on a piece of paper. When she was done, she folded it precisely and slid it into the pocket on Vern's polo shirt.

"Like I said, things will be much better if you cooperate," she said. And with that, she turned on her heel and strode out the door.

Vernon slammed and deadbolted it immediately. Lily rushed forward.

"Stay back," Vernon hissed. He peered through the edge of the blinds as a car engine started outside.

Only when the sound had faded into the distance did he leave the window and hurry to the kitchen. "Did you get her number plate?" he asked Petunia.

"I think so," she answered, holding up a post-it. "She drove off pretty fast."

"Good." He pulled the slip of paper out of his pocket.

"What does it say?" asked Lily.

Vernon's eyebrows rose. "Fifty thousand pounds. Meet me at Puddifoot's Tea Shop. They don't have to know."

"Wow, good old-fashioned bribery."

"What are we going to do?" said Petunia.

"Get the others," said Vernon gravely. "For starters, maybe they can tell us who that was."

"Velma Nagini." The moment they pulled up the security footage on Vern's computer, James had an answer. "She's Val's… God, I don't even know what to call her other than a henchwoman." Behind him, Sirius shuddered. "I can't believe she was here. This is mad."

"And she tried to bribe you to give us up?" asked Remus. Vern nodded. "It takes a good man to turn down fifty thousand pounds."

Vernon looked chuffed. "I can't be bought so easily as that."

"Or threatened, apparently. Vern held his own down there," Lily told the others. "Do you really have a button that calls the police?" She knew the ambassador part was a lie (unless she really knew nothing about her childhood friend) but the rest, she wasn't sure.

"Unfortunately not," said Vern. "I was pointing to the fan switch."

Lily snorted. The others, too, couldn't help but laugh. Everyone joined in until even Vernon had a good chuckle, and their spirits seemed to be lifted for a moment. But as the chorus of amusement faded away, the weight of the situation settled in and filled the room with a quiet dread.

"We need to get out of here," said Remus.

James nodded solemnly. "Unfortunately, I agree. Vernon, you've been a literal lifesaver, but we can't ask you to keep sticking your neck out for us."

"We'll find somewhere," said Sirius. "Even if it's a bloody barn again."

Lily's heart sank. Where could they go? No part of Privet Drive was safe; even Vernon Dursley's bulletproof media room. She thought of all the dirt they'd uncovered on the cult massacre and couldn't help but wish for just a little more time to think. With concrete evidence that Riddle and DeMort were the same person, they might have a case to put him away for life. Without it, they were just sitting on a pile of paper, waiting for Val and his cronies to drag them out of their hidy-hole.

And knowing now that they were running from an actual murderer… Well, there was just no guarantee that he would hold anything back when he found them.

Vernon, who was sitting in his gigantic computer chair and had reflections of a scary snake woman in his glasses, looked pensive.

"I'll admit, you are far too much in my debt as it is," he said carefully, "but… if you're not too proud to let me save your hides one more time… I might know a place."


And so it came to be that at seven forty-five in the morning, the group was piling provisions into the Dursleys' old minivan and preparing to leave their once-safe summer haven of Gryffindale.

There was some debate over who really needed to go. Lily was a known accomplice; she'd been in Knockturn and in the tabloids with James, so she was as much of a target as any of the Marauders. Petunia's involvement, however, was not known to the public; she could easily stay behind and pretend she'd never had anything to do with them.

This didn't sit well with her.

"Of course you should stay here," Vernon announced, baffled that the question had even been raised. "Why put yourself at risk when none of these people even know you exist?"

She tried to pretend that those words didn't sting. "But that's exactly the point, isn't it?" she said. "I'm the only anonymous one left. What if they need to get groceries? What if someone comes to the door again? I could be useful."

Vernon couldn't deny her that. Even he'd shown his face just now to Nagini. "Well then, I'm coming as well."

"No," said Lily then. "Look, I'm sorry, but what if someone breaks in here? With the right tools, they'd have access to all your security footage and… well, I'm assuming some recorded conversations?" He started to protest, but closed his mouth and looked a little sheepish at that last part. "Anyway, someone needs to keep an eye on Mum and Dad. Let them know we're safe, keep us updated if you see anyone suspicious at their house…"

"Petunia could do that" was Vernon's last-ditch argumented.

"She can if she wants," said Remus, "but she's right. Having her with us would be immensely helpful."

Petunia glanced around the six pairs of eyes fixed on her. "I'm going," she said.

A few bags of food, some toiletries, James' guitar, and the girls' bags were all they packed. "There are some clothes at the cottage," Vernon told the Marauders gruffly. "Mostly bound for charity shops anyway, so help yourselves."

"Mate, we can't thank you enough," said James. "Like, genuinely. If we make it out of this mess, we're going to have to dedicate a song to you or something."

"S'not necessary," said Vernon. He handed the car keys to Petunia. There was real concern in his eyes, she noted, and a kind of defeat that made her sad. "Remember, Nagini's at Puddifoot's so you'll have to take the East road out of town. And stop for petrol in Ravenwood–it's only got a quarter tank." He bowed his head and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Just… be careful. Please."

"I will, Vern." Unsure how to execute this farewell, she gingerly placed a hand on his shoulder for just a moment. Then, she got into the driver's seat.

The others sat low in their seats, huddled under throw blankets from the moment they left the garage until they were well out of town–an oddly logical suggestion that had come from Sirius. From the street, one might have imagined she was just a teenage girl driving to a babysitting job for which she was just a little too well prepared.

Isn't that exactly what this summer was? Petunia mused silently to herself.

At the outer edge of Ravenwood, once the petrol tank was full and the risk of being spotted was less, Lily threw off her cover. She had Vern's hand-drawn instructions in her lap (a GPS was too easily compromised, he'd argued) and was poring over them.

"Did you know the Dursleys had a place in Somerset?" she asked. "Godric's Hollow… I've never even heard of it."

Petunia shook her head. "Neither have I."

If Gryffindale was a quaint country town, Godric's Hollow was an absolute backwoods sanctuary. They'd been on the road an hour and a half when Petunia nearly missed the turn from a narrow pebble road onto an even narrower dirt lane. From there, they drove deep into a thicket of trees for the next ten minutes, until they finally started to pass some cottages on their left. They were set far apart, their yards overgrown with thistles and ragweeds as tall as their veranda rails. There wasn't a human in sight.

"The one with the green door…" Lily read from the directions. "There. That's got to be it, right?"

Petunia slowed in front of the next cottage, a small log cabin with dusty windows. It appeared even longer uninhabited than the others. The door may once have been green, but now it was splintered and faded almost to grey, and weeds were sprouting through the veranda planks. A decrepit swingset was marooned in the sea of thistles, one of its wooden planks dangling from a single chain.

"I'm guessing they haven't been here in a while," said James from the back seat.

Petunia thought about all the solitary summer holidays Vern had spent on Privet Drive and felt a pang of sympathy.

"Let's hope the key still works," said Lily.

They parked the van behind the cottage as Vern had instructed and stepped out into thick, cedar-soaked air that smelled vaguely of the sea. The yard sloped down to a small, barely-running creek whose waters–given the rusty dinghy that was upended in the bushes–must have been much higher at some point. The moment Petunia slid from the car, she regretted wearing sandals.

"This place gives me the creeps," said Peter.

"Don't know what you mean," said Sirius. "This doesn't feel like a horror movie set at all."

If they thought the outside was creepy, they were in for a treat when Remus finally jiggled the lock free of its rusty socket. There was at least an inch of dust on everything in sight. The kitchen was straight out of a seventies catalogue–mustard walls, hexagonal-patterned linoleum flooring, a round wooden table, and cracked vinyl peeling from cabinet fronts. A small window behind the sink opened onto a floral-wallpapered sitting room; the sofas were cloaked in bed sheets. There was a pair of trainers at the door that could only have belonged to a six-year-old.

Peter sneezed.

"Home, sweet murder cabin," said Sirius.

It only took one trip to get all their things inside, so they bolted the door (praying they could get it open again when the need arose) and turned on the lights. A hallway from the sitting room led to two bedrooms and a bathroom. Petunia and Lily dropped their bags and reconvened in the sitting room, where the Marauders were shaking out sheets they'd removed from two hideous brown loveseats and a matching recliner.

Peter emerged from the kitchen with a bag of barbecue crisps, and they passed them round the circle in silence. Petunia, sitting cross-legged on the shag carpet, dared to sample just one. It tasted like cardboard.

Eventually, James cleared his throat. "I hereby call to order the first meeting of the Order of the... Phoenix," he said, taking inspiration from a bizarre china figure on the mantel. "Now, shall we come up with a bloody plan?"


A/N: Oops, we did it again.

Don't hate us please.

Sinseerlie,

Liz & Sam

(Seven Scribbles)