Chapter 8: A Day in the Life of Petunia Evans

Petunia opened her eyes with a groan. It was impossible to tell what time it was in this place. With no windows, the darkness was only every broken by the light from the oil lamps that lit themselves whenever some way woke up. It was a warm light, not harsh like fluorescent might be. But it was no substitute for sunlight. She sighed and pulled on her dressing gown from the chair by her bed, next to the bedside table that doubled as her desk. As she woke up, the scruffy, dishevelled, and slowly balding owl on her bedpost shifted slightly and gave a sleepy squeak before settling down again. Petunia sighed and pet the bird's patchy chest before moving around the towering stacks of books on owls she'd had Hestia collected for her. She'd promised Harry she would take good care of Hedwig. But it didn't seem to her that she'd been doing a good job. All the books she'd found indicated that Hedwig was plucking her feathers due to stress. And the magical familiar books indicated that stress was caused by her separation from Harry. So all Petunia could hope to do was be gentle with the bird, give her supplements in the form of pellets and drops, and pray that she wouldn't over damage herself.

"Mornin'" came the mumbled voice of her roommate. Petunia had been floored when Hestia took her to the safe house and Riggly Pike had been sitting at the table. He'd given her a cheeky grin and salute before going back to his typewriter. Since then he'd taken over half of the dining room table. It was stacked with books, dirty dishes, countless coffee mugs, and an ever-growing stack of paper covered in scribbled or rapidly typed pages filled with corrections occasionally broken by a sketch or a doodle. Riggly seemed to be working none stop. What he was writing Petunia would never know. But every week he handed a little packet to Dobby, the strange house-elf who popped in once in a while, who would disappear again. Seemed like the ex-reporter was working for The Order in some capacity, but Petunia never knew what.

Dobby was the other oddity. He came and went as he pleased, and always wearing the strangest outfits. The overly large stake of hats was the most intriguing. The oddest moment had to be when the elf appeared in Petunia's kitchen, grabbed a collider, put it on his head, then grabbed a metal whisk. Quickly said "Dobby will need these for a bit!" and disappeared. Seemed the little elf was going into battle! Petunia felt herself hoping the little thing was okay. And she took a moment to make sure he was every time he appeared. As if on cue the elf appeared. He looked a bit worse for wear with red eyes and a dribbly nose. Then he sneezed loudly.

"Apologies," he said stuffily, "Dobby has a terrible cold."

"Hello!" Petunia said charmingly. "Maybe you should sit for a moment."

"Oh no no!" Dobby insisted, then he sneezed again "Dobby is fine. Dobby is just coming to inform Hestia of something, then Dobby must be one his way."

"You sound like death man," Hestia remarked with a wince.

"Dobby is," he coughed hackingly, "fine."

"Oh don't be ridiculous!" Petunia said sternly. "Sit down. I will not let you leave without a bit of soup and tea. You're no use to The Order like this!" the elf seemed to hesitate before he sighed and pulled out a chair from the table and settled into it. Petunia gave him the tea first, the kettle whistling loudly in the small enclosed space. He gratefully cuddled it in his long fingers and let out a sigh "Thank you." he wheezed. Then he took a few grateful sips and let out another sigh.

"You've been running yourself ragged Dobby," Hestia complained. "You've got to start slowing down."

"Dobby can't slow down!' the elf insisted, "not while the death eaters still run amok! Dobby has to help! For Mr. Harry Potter and his friends!"

"I'm more than certain that Harry wouldn't appreciate you driving yourself on at the detriment of your health." Petunia countered as she put the soup in front of the sickly elf. "I know I certainly don't." Dobby looked a bit conflicted even as he sipped at his soup. Then he finished out a handkerchief and blew his nose.

"Thank you for the soup Ms. Evans." the elf replied gratefully, "Dobby is already feeling much better." he did sound a little less stuffy, but his eyes continue to water and his cough was still present. "Hestia. Kingsley sent Dobby to let you know that he's moving the headquarters again. He doesn't think the safe house has been compromised, but the death eaters have been very active in the area and he doesn't want to risk the collateral. He was wondering if you would be willing to store some files for a few days, just to keep them safe while the transfer happens."

"Course. We can leave em in the spare room." Hestia said with a jab of her neck down the long hall of doors behind her. At the very end of the hall was the door that Petunia was expressly forbidden to open. It led to the stairs which led out to the basement of the old mill they were hiding under. The mill itself was nestled up against a slightly boggy old river and had been converted to a museum some decades ago. Petunia had only been above ground once in the last four months. It was to send one final letter to Molly before she went completely dark. Hestia hadn't liked the idea, but seeing as Petunia had used the post office and not Hedwig, she couldn't really argue. Mostly she'd been terrified that someone might recognize Petunia. They were 125 km away from the only place she'd lived in the last 17 years, and 50 km from the edge of London.

"In that case, Dobby should get back to Kingsley now." the elf insisted as he hopped off the chair. "Then Dobby will bring the files

"I really think that you should take a lie down when your done moving everything Dobby." Petunia said sternly. "Just for a few hours."

"Dobby will… think about it." the elf said tiredly before he disappeared with a crack. Petunia pursed her lips and cleared away the elves dished with a huff. Then there was a rustle and Hedwig swooped into the room, leaving a trail of speckled feathers in her wake. She settled on top of one of Riggly's book stacks and made a warbly half-hearted screech. Ripply held up the piece of jerky he'd been holding, but not eating without looking up from his typing. The owl stuck our her neck and poked her beak into it but didn't actually eat it. Petunia frowned before she put a small bowl of owl food in front of the bird. She stared at it with disinterest before snuggling down again. Petunia sighed.

"I'll get you some mice soon enough girl." Hestia offered. But Hedwig didn't seem phased. She just sat there, looking rather pitiful. Then she leaned down and ripped out a clump of her feathers.

"Hedwig!" Petunia admonished before grabbing the bird's legs. The owl puffed up and gave a truly furious screech and bit the woman's hand. But Petunia kept her grip, gentle but firm. She slowly brought the bird to the tatty wonky couch in the corner and inspected the patch the bird had just ripped out. Thankfully it wasn't bleeding this time. But it was red with irritation. Petunia sigh and fished the balm from her apron and applied it in a slow gentle circle. Hedwig opened and closed her talons reflexively and gave several warning clicks and bit the woman a few more times before Petunia released the bird. She petulantly flew up to the top cupboard and screeched at the woman a few more times. Then she ruffled her feathers and settled again. Thankfully she didn't try plucking again. Petunia let out a raged exhausted sigh. Her hands were already scratched and sore as it was.

"I'm going to take a shower." she declared to the room. "Riggly… please do the dishes."

"Mmm." the man replied over the clack of his typewriter. Petunia shuffled into the slightly grubby bathroom, with its old-fashioned, slightly leaky old plumbing, generally damp air, and gas blacked lighting fixtures. They sprung on with a gentle pop every time someone entered the room, bathing it in a musty yellow colour. Or maybe that was just what the white plaster of the walls looked like now. Petunia tried not to think about that too hard as she scrubbed and washed her hair. She tsked as she shook the last of her shampoo out of the bottle. Yet another thing she'd have to ask for more of. As she got out of the shower, wrapping herself up in her bathrobe again, with her hair twisted into a towel she pated her face dry and reached for her toothbrush. Long ago she'd abandoned her lengthy beautification routine of various creams and hairstyling. There wasn't any point after all. It was just Riggly and Hestia and Occasionally Dobby who saw her. She tried to keep up appearances at first, but it seemed utterly pointless now. But she still brushed her teeth every day. It was sort of like a coping mechanism. She felt like the moment she gave up on that was the moment she gave up on life.

They were out of toothpaste.

She nearly snapped her toothbrush in shock. She pulled open the old creaky drawers and rummaged around. She frantically shook out the empty box before she shrieked in rage and threw it into the wastebasket. She stared at her reflection and sneered.

"No." She declared to herself. "Today is not that day." Then she ripped off the towel on her hair and pulled out her box of makeup. She frantically applied it as artfully as shook could with rage-shaken fingers before turning out of the room. Hestia was looking down the hall at her with slight worry while Riggly stared at his typewriter with an intense expression. Petunia went into the room, pushed over a stack of books that cascaded down and reached the nearly buried dresser.

"You alright?" Hestia asked as she came to stand in the doorway.

"I'm going to Duxford today." Petunia declared as she pulled out her only piece of jewelry, her grandmother's pearls, and put them on.

"You what?!" Hestia demanded in horror. "Are you mad?!"

"We're out of toothpaste." Petunia declared heatedly as she pulled on a pressed blouse and a pair of hose.

"You're not risking your life for toothpaste, you daft woman!" Hestia argued in shock.

"Hey if you're going out can you get me some crisps?" Riggly asked as Petunia stepped out with a skirt and simple flat shoes.

"Which one?" Petunia offered with a smile.

"Quavers. Whatever they've got." Riggly said absent-mindedly.

"Certainly, but those dished had better be clean when I get back." Petunia insisted even as she moved toward the spare room for her coat.

"Yeah yeah," Riggly promised half-heartedly. Petunia rolled her eyes.

"This is a really bad idea!" Hestia insisted as she tried to reach the old wardrobe before her. "What if there's an attack!?"

"I highly doubt the death eaters will attack a village of just over a thousand people." Petunia drawled, unimpressed.

"Petunia, come on! Toothpaste is not worth your life!"

"It is to me!" Petunia snapped and tried to blink her tears away. Hestia stopped as she saw the pain in the woman's eyes. Petunia took a deep breath and composed herself as best she could before opening the wardrobe and pulling out her coat and gloves. There was an awkward silence as Hestia watched her put on her coat. "Do you want anything at the store?" Hestia just huffed.

"Petunia… if there's an attack-"

"Leave me for dead if you must." The older woman said with bitter finality. When she exited the room Riggly was standing at the end of the hall with his hands in his pockets looked surprisingly still and forlorn. The man was almost constantly moving or fidgeting or tapping his fingers against things. To see him looking so serious filled Petunia with a hint of dread. He didn't say anything either, just watched along with Hestia as she turned and reached out a shaky hand for the forbidden doorknob. She pulled it open and a blast of cold air drifted in. The sound of the mill above them creaked and groaned as well.

"Good luck." Riggly finally said. Then he grinned. "don't forget my quavers." As if Petunia were just going for a regular grocery run. Hestia watched her go with worried eyes. Petunia then closed the door behind her. It was dank in the basement, and water dripped from the ceiling into a bucket buried behind stacks of old crates. She had to weave about to find the stairs to the old cellar entrance. The Order had placed all kinds of charms to hide it from muggle eyes. Thankfully Petunia could still see it. As she pushed the old cellar doors out she sucked in a deep breath. The cold early winter air was so refreshing compared to the stale dampness of the safe house. She sighed in contentment and stepped out. It was bright. A light dusting of snow blanketed the countryside, and the grass crunched lightly under her feet. It's was uncharacteristically sunny for last November. Petunia couldn't help but smile as she crossed the field and went onto the gently bending country road to Duxton. It wasn't a long walk, about twenty minutes. It was actually quite pleasant. Petunia hummed to herself as she followed the path. It was so nice to stretch her legs and move about in the open air.

"'llo there!" A voice suddenly called out. Petunia nearly screeched and threw her handbag up in alarm. The man in the car flinched back. Petunia placed a hand to her beating heart and sighed in relief.

"Goodness, you startled me." She said before looking at the man. He was burly, with a scruffy beard on plump cheeks. His old pickup was rusty with muddy wheels and a general air of hard work.

"Begging your pardon ma'am. Didn't mean to cause ya such a fright." He assured her with a chuckle and a rather unexpected Scottish accent. "ya headin' inta Duxton today?"

"Indeed," Petunia said with a nod.

"I'm headin' that way myself. Would you like a ride?"

"Oh, it's only a short walk." Petunia insisted with a bat of her hand.

"AI but a lovely woman such as yerself walkin' along the side of the road? Now that's not right. Ya might trip inta a pothole! And then how would I feel?" The man cried. Petunia bit her lip then huffed.

"Very well. Thank you." She conceded before climbing into the battered pickup. The ride was quick, but Petunia's driver was extremely talkitive.

"You know they need to build a market in Hinxton! Not right to make those without a car have to walk all the way to Duxford or Ickleton. Especially the older ladies. You know I see em all the time, walking along the road with their canes. It's a hazard! Poor things 'll end up in the ditch someday!" The more this man talked the more Petunia found herself staring at her.

He reminded her of Vernon.

Granted, a much more fit Vernon, with far kinder eyes and a generally gentle demeanour.

A younger Vernon.

The Vernon she'd fallen in love with.

"I'm sorry, I don't think we introduced ourselves." Petunia said casually as she could.

"Oh, beggin' yer pardon ma'am! Where are my manners today? My name's Richard. Richard McFraser. I've come down bout a year ago. My grandpappy owned a bit of land round here. Willed it to me by a decade ago. I rented it out for a while. But I decided to give up sheep and move in myself. No money left in it anymore. Side's it's a younger man's game now. All those new-fangled breeding techniques and sheering schedules. Real wool ain't worth its pennies anymore. Sad, but that's the ravages of time I 'spose"

"I see." Petunia remarked.

"What about you?" Richard asked. "Ya don't sound like a local."

"No, I move to Hinxton recently." Petunia said softly. "I grew up in York myself. But I lived in Surrey for almost twenty years."

"Not easy ta pick up yer life," Richard remarked with an air of empathy. "What made ya decide to go?" Petunia looked ahead as he drove through the separated houses of the edge of Duxford.

"My son's moved away." She said quietly. "And I'm a widow, so I had the whole house to myself." She paused and swallowed roughly, "I suppose there were just too many painful memories."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Richard said with soft eyes. He looked ahead as they waited for the light. "Never married myself. Just never found the right girl." Petunia hummed conversationally. The rest of the rid was casually silent, with Petunia only speaking up to declare her destination. they pulled up to the small CostCutters and Petunia stepped out.

"Have a great day Miss... " Richard began before frowned.

"Evans." Petunia declared. Richard beamed.

"Miss. Evans." He said before tipping his cap. Then he drove off. Petunia watched the old pickup go and felt a small smile tug at her lips. She hoped that Richard McFraser would live to see the end of this ghastly mess. He didn't deserve to be killed in this vile war he had no part in. She went into the CostCutters and quickly gather everything she wanted. Shampoo, crisps, a sweet-smelling soap that she much preferred to the one she currently had, which smelt like dying wildflowers and cheap perfume and reminded her of her mean old stuffy great grandmother. The one who told her mother woman shouldn't be lawyers. And finally, the toothpaste that had inspired this whole adventure. She bought ten tubes of it.

They wouldn't be running out anytime soon.

She did get a sort of funny look when she went to the counter, laden as she was with a whole selection of things all topped with what was honestly a rather ludicrous amount of toothpaste. But the shop girl didn't say anything, just rang up the total and gave the change. Petunia was feeling so adventurous that she actually bought a few gumballs from the machine as well. While she despised the stuff she knew Hestia loved bubblegum. She's bemoaned the fact that she'd run out of the good stuff a few weeks and had been reduced to the hard stale stuff that Kingsley had bought for her. As she stepped out of the shop she blinked. Richard McFraser was leaning about his rusty pickup, the bed loaded with wood and bags of shavings with a cheery grin.

"'llo there again Miss. Evans! I figured you'd be needing a lift back!" Petunia blinked.

"Oh, that's very kind of you Mr. McFraser." She began, "but I can manage."

"At least let me take ya back up to the Mill." He said with that same worried face he'd had when he first picked her up. "Walking along with those bags yer sure to trip!"

"Oh alright." Petunia huffed. The man was giving her the same god-forsaken puppy eyes that Sirius always gave. It was making her heartsick for the man. How she wished she could reach out to them all. Find out if they were okay. As she plopped her bags into the front seat the man blinked.

"That's a lot of toothpaste." He said with a smile. Petunia winced.

"It's a bit excessive isn't it?" She said sheepishly. The man laughed.

"Just a tad." He remarked. Then all of a sudden Petunia heard a loud screech and looked up. Hedwig dove out of the sky and grasped her shoulder, flapping her wings and screeching loudly. Richard jumped back in fright. "Bloody 'ell is that an owl?!"

"Hedwig!" Petunia cried in horror. The bird screeched again and fluttered around in a panic. Then a loud whistling was heard from above. Petunia frowned and looked up when a fireball streaked across the sky and exploded a building behind her. Everything erupted into chaos. Richard shouted in alarm and pulled Petunia into the truck. He tried to swat at the owl but the snowy artfully dodge his attack even as he reached around for the stick and pulled the truck into drive. The dark shapes of death eaters were appearing all for two, setting fire to buildings and attacking the locals.

"Bloody bird is a menace!" Richard shouted as he looked away for the road and tried to dislodge Hedwig again.

"It's fine!" Petunia snapped, "ignore her and watch the road!" She commanded before trying to calm the bird. "Hedwig, calm down!"

"Wait is she yer pet or something?!" Richard cried even as he swerved around a car that was trying to avoid the screaming pedestrians. At last, he pulled out onto the main road. Petunia could see death eaters burning a small building in the distance, seemingly dancing around it in glee. She swallowed bile. Instantly Hedwig began to relax, though she remains alert, and her talons were still digging into Petunia's shoulder. Then suddenly Richard drove past the old mill and the owl screeched.

"Wait!" Petunia cried, "turn back!"

"Turn back?!" Richard cried in alarm, "bloody hell woman there a fuckin terrorists burning the village ta the ground and ya say turn back!"

"Not to Duxford." Petunia muttered, "to the old mill."

"Why?!" Richard demanded.

"Just trust me!" Petunia demanded angrily. Richard growled but turned with a squeal of tires. When he arrived he gave the woman and her owl a harsh look. "Ya better not be doing anything reckless." Suddenly a person appeared in front of Petunia's window.

"Petunia!" Hestia cried in relief, "Thank Merlin! The attack is getting handled now! King and a couple of others showed up! HEDWIG! That's where you ran off to you bloody menace! We were at our wit's end you know!" The owl clicked her beak at the woman angrily, "alright calm down." Then Hestia saw the gapping man and froze. "Oh shit."

"It's fine." Petunia declared. She opened the door and handed Hestia the bags. "just get those inside." The witch looked down into the bag and made a noise of alarm.

"How much bloody toothpaste did you buy?!"

"Just get inside!" Petunia snarled. Then she turned to Richard with worried eyes. "Go home. Lock the door and hide in your basement, if you have one, for a bit. If people come for you wearing strange clothes, ask them what Albus Dumbledore's favourite Jam is. If they say raspberry, tell them that you're a friend of mine."

"Albus Dumbledore? Jam?! Strange clothes?! What are ya talking about woman?!" Richard asked in confusion. Petunia huffed.

"Please Richard just do it!" She said, "I promise I will explain everything when this bloody war is over."

"What war?!" The man cried in alarm.

"That war!" Petunia declared as she pointed to the rising smoke column over Duxford. The man looked at it with a blink. There was a distant explosion. Petunia huffed and turned towards the hidden cellar. "Go home." She repeated, "we've no time now." Then she walked towards it. Richard watched her go, still very confused when suddenly she disappeared. It was as if she and the owl never even existed. His eyes brows shot up into his hair. Then another explosion rang out and he jumped into action.

"Dumbledore's favourite Jam." He muttered to himself. "Dumbledore's favourite Jam!" Then he was off, finding the stick and screeching down the road. Petunia watched him from just inside the invisible bubble and sighed in relief as he disappeared around the bend.

"Petunia!" Hestia shouted, "get inside! You're only invisible to muggles remember!" Petunia nodded and dashed back down the cellar, with Hedwig fluttering after her. She did feel exponentially safer when Hestia closed and bolted the door once again. But she remained at the door, wand drawn and anxious.

"Who was that guy anyway?!"

"Just a muggle." Petunia murmured, "he drove me into town."

"Are you sure he was a muggle?! He might have been a death eater in disguise!"

"I highly doubt that," Petunia said with a roll of her eyes. "Unless you think death eaters know about sheep breeding and shearing schedules."

"They schedule that stuff?" Riggly called out with blinking eyes. Petunia gave Hestia a look.

"Fair enough," Hestia murmured. "This is bad though… first York, now Duxford… it can't be a coincidence."

"What do you mean?" Petunia asked. Hestia bit her lip.

"The HQ was a cottage just south of York."

"So there's a mole," Riggly murmured darkly. Hestia looked at the door worriedly.

"Maybe." Petunia sighed before looking at the grocery bags on the clean half of the table. Though Riggly's side was cleaner. It seemed more organized, and the man had actually done the dishes!

"By the way!" Riggly began with a cheeky grin. "That's quite a bit of toothpaste. Did you leave any for the muggles?"

"Oh, hush!" Petunia snapped in irritation. But Riggly still giggled and the night somehow settled back down to the way it always had. Eventually, Hestia moved away from the door, though her leg bobbed nervously throughout the night. Then Dobby appeared with a crack, looking ragged once more.

"Hello," the elf said tiredly, "Dobby is here to inform you that Kingsley and the others have rounded up all the death eaters in Duxford. Apparently, they were hunting down a traitor who was hiding at a pub."

"Thank Merlin," Hestia said with a sigh of relief.

"Now if you don't mind," Dobby said as he rubbed his face, making his long nose spring back, "Dobby is going to bed."

"Do you need any extra blankets?" Petunia asked worriedly.

"Dobby knows where they are." the elf insisted as he padded down the hall to the spare bedroom.

"Poor blighter," Riggly said with a chuckle.

"He's gonna drive himself into a brick wall." Hestia insisted with a huff. Petunia nodded. She'd be checking on the little elf tonight.

"Well." Riggly declared, with a clap of his hands, which reverberated around the cramped space, "time to hit the hay. Try to get some rest alright?" he offered Petunia with a sympathetic smile, "you of all of us earned it."

"Good night." Petunia said.

"Night Riggly," Hestia added. The man gave Hedwig a scratch as he passed.

"Good job bringing Petunia back in one piece ole girl. You're the true hero of the day." the owl fluffed up and gave a little squeak. Riggly grinned and continued down the hall and disappeared into the disaster zone that was his bedroom. Hestia and Petunia followed soon after. And as petunia closed her eyes she finished her day the same way she always did. With a silent prayer. It was a mantra she'd had since the day she'd met Hestia. The scrawled words danced across her mind every time she closed her eyes and reminded her of the three men somewhere out there in the world, trapped in a death struggle with the darkest forces the wizarding world had to offer. Every night she begged whoever to listen to keep them well. More than anything she implored them to follow their own advice:

Please please please,

Be safe.

Then she leaned over and blew out her light.

A/N: Look whose back!

I'm sure everyone is so happy to see these people again!

Especially Petunia!

World's best P.T.A. Mom!

Rori Potter: As you can see, we're taking a break from The Motley Crew this week. But next week jumps right back! And it's sure to be another interesting one ;)

ILoveGeorgeEads: Thank you!

Aslan's Princess: Sorry dear, I have a long-standing policy of no spoilers. It ruins all the foreshadowing and clever dramatic irony.

The Lord of the Rings has been my favourite series for over a decade now and every time I read about Horcruxes, all I can think about is Sauron and The One Ring. The comparison is so obvious it's practically copyright infringement. Don't worry, this won't be the last clever reference ;)

I have to admit, Anthony just kinda came in out of the blue. in my original original notes, Hermione still ended up with Ron in the end. But then suddenly I was like huh... Anthony Goldstein... he's a cool guy. and boom. Hermione and Anthony became a thing. and honestly, I'm grateful for it. I feel like they're so much more compatible than Hermione and Ron. Idk. I don't hate the ship. I just felt like this time, I wanted something new.

Susan was planned from the very beginning. originally I was thinking of luna (again. Luna and Harry is one of my OTPs) but I wanted to explore something else. I knew he was going to date Cho (and that it would end disastrously), but I couldn't decide who would be next. Then I thought of the fact that Amelia Bones was close with the family in this and boom, Susan walked up and gave Harry the hugs he so desperately deserved.

And they really did need a Hufflepuff.

I feel like Hermione's character was really watered down in Deathly hollows. Mostly so the Horcrux hunting wouldn't be too easy. My Hermione retains her intelligence and thirst for knowledge and makes it her mission to pursue any lead to its conclusion.

You'll see more of that next week, as I indulge in a bit of extra world-lore and exposition... (That's just a teensy tiny spoiler, just for you) ;)

That's all for now!

I look forward to seeing you all again next week!

Don't forget to keep on reading!

-TTC