August 1972

He found her book.

The book Eugene had gifted her, the book she used to write down everything new she learned about Aspen. The wretched boy had gone through her stuff and found her notes.

It's over.

They stared at each other in silence, him standing next to the open window and Petunia frozen in the doorway of her room. A summer breeze rustled the blue curtains, smelling like freshly cut grass and sunshine. But its warmth didn't reach Petunia - she felt as if she had been dunked into a frozen lake.

She should be thinking of ways to get out of the situation, some way to convince the wretched boy not to tell anyone, but instead only two words echoed in her head, again and again.

It's over.

Her time with Aspen, flying through the night, feeling the wet air on her skin when she touched the clouds and Aspen's heart beating against his ribs, against her legs. Cooling him down in the brook, playing with the glittering drops and enjoying the symphony of the gurgling water and singing birds. Finding little offerings on her windowsill in the morning, going into town after school to stop by the butchery, walking the familiar path through the fields with Aspen by her side …

It's over.

The first words out of the wretched boy's mouth shouldn't have surprised her, but she still marvelled that he was thinking about her in any situation.

"That's not Lily's handwriting."

No, it's mine . Petunia somehow found her voice, though it was hoarse and thin. "What are you doing in our room?"

He ignored her question. "So this is what you've been hiding? Some kind of invisible creature?"

I could just push him …

The thought only flashed through her mind for a bare second, but it was enough to make Petunia flinch in fright. No she wouldn't, she couldn't , push him out the window. No matter what, she wasn't a murderer.

"Classified as XXXX, that means it's dangerous. Do you even - "

"Don't tell them!"

The shout tore out of her before Petunia even registered the words. Her chest was heaving and aching as if the words had scraped it raw from the inside.

Severus blinked once. His face, gaunt and sickly pale as always, didn't look as vicious anymore. "Tell whom? Lily?"

Petunia's nails bit into the soft flesh of her palms, the slight pain the only thing anchoring her enough to collect her thoughts and reply. " Them - the magical police, the Ministry!"

"I - Why would I tell them?"

Because he was the wretched boy. Because he had a way of hurting her and he would use it. Because he hated her.

The silence settling between them was suffocating like a heavy blanket. All her thoughts and accusations seemed to smoother the air right out of the small room.

"I won't tell them."

Petunia didn't believe him. Why would he keep her secret? Why would he even be sneaking around here if not to find something he could use against her?

"If you're not gonna tell, why do you even care?"

He flushed slightly, the red making his face appear even more unhealthy. "I thought you were doing some dark rituals, with animal sacrifices and everything."

Petunia took a deep breath while her mind tried to catch up. The jump from magical prison to animal sacrifices was a bit far and it took her a few seconds to realize - the stupid chicken!

But Petunia wasn't magical, why did he assume that she was doing some kind of ritual?

"Dark rituals to do what?"

"Curse Lily. Or maybe you were trying to get magic for yourself."

Petunia's eyes flashed with interest. "That works?"

He shot her an annoyed glare. "It doesn't. It's just useless brutality. Did you think you're the first muggle who wishes for more?"

Petunia shot a glare right back. Her heart was beating more steadily.

"You won't tell anyone?"

He looked even more annoyed than when she asked about the ritual. "No."

"Not even Lily?"

That made him pause. "Why not Lily?"

Because Petunia didn't want her to know. Because Petunia was already uneasy with him knowing.

Aspen was supposed to be hers. Petunia's secret. That Severus had robbed it was bad enough, but she would never share it freely, especially not with Lily.

"Don't tell Lily. If you do …" She would do what? There was nothing Petunia could really threaten him with.

"I won't tell her, as long as you're nice to her."

Petunia stared at him.

He cleared his throat and continued. "If you call her a freak or something like that, I'll tell her."

Somehow, even though she should have felt annoyed, hearing him blackmail her caused relief to loosen her tight muscles. At least now he had a motive to keep quiet in front of Lily. At least now Petunia didn't have to believe he would keep quiet because he was being nice to her.

And now she also knew what to say. "If you tell anyone, I'll make her life hell."

"Stop following me."

He didn't stop following her.

Petunia whirled around, exasperation painted clear across her face, a few blond strands tickling her face with the sudden motion. "You already know I'm not going to sacrifice these bones in some dark ritual, so stop following me!"

Severus acted like he couldn't hear her, still walking behind her across the dry grass. The late afternoon sun was making his oily hair gleam even more than usual and she could see a few dots of sweat at his hairline. Petunia idly noticed that he was wearing the same shoes he wore during winter, the sole already coming off of the left one. They looked too flimsy to withstand any snow - or withstand anything, really.

Petunia stopped in front of the shed, glad to be in its shade, and glared at the wretched boy. He had followed her since she left Butcher Emery and while she had done her best to ignore him, it apparently didn't dissuade him at all. Quite the opposite, he had trailed her like a too-long, big-nosed shadow.

But this was her sanctuary, this was Aspen's space. She refused to have him follow behind her any longer.

"What do you want?"

"Just making sure."

"Of what?"

He indicated the shed. "That there really is an invisible creature in there."

For a second, Petunia wondered what would happen if she flung the bloody offal in her bag against his head. Instead she took a deep breath, trying to let the heavy aroma of summer, wheat and flowers filter some of her anger away. "Why else would I be carrying this around?"

He shrugged. Bloody pest.

What did it even matter? He wouldn't see Aspen anyway. Gritting her teeth against the continuous urge to stomp on his tattered shoes she tried to slam the door in his face, though he caught it. The air was slightly cooler inside the shed and Petunia couldn't suppress a small sigh of relief.

Aspen lifted his head, standing up from his nest to come closer and nose at the bag in her hand. Its rustle in the silence was almost deafening.

Petunia glanced at the wretched boy. His dark eyes were glued to the small movement, but his face gave nothing away.

Petunia would usually talk to Aspen, but right now she didn't really know what she always said. The moment felt intruded upon.

"Here," she simply whispered and put the bag on the floor, open so Aspen knew that he could start eating. The sickly-sweet smell of blood was wafting up, but Petunia was already used to it and didn't feel queasy.

Aspen ignored Severus, just like Petunia was trying to do, and started eating. The first wetly sounding smack made Severus flinch and then Petunia had the pleasure of watching his eyes widen while the bag emptied.

When Aspen started crunching on the bones, Severus slowly came closer, stopping next to Petunia. "So it's really in here."

"He."

"What?"

" He is in here."

"Does he look like the drawing in the book?"

Petunia knew he must be talking about the moving ink sketch inside 'Fantastic Beasts'. "Sturdier. And more reptilian."

A loud crack echoed in the air when a thick bone caved between Aspen's sharp teeth.

Severus swallowed but tried to hide it. "He's dangerous. They rated him XXXX after all."

Petunia had never cared about the little X's next to the entries - she hadn't even realised what they represented. But even knowing that it was some kind of warning, she didn't feel afraid.

She knew with absolute surety that Aspen would never hurt her. When he pressed his head against her, he was always careful with his sharp teeth, never even giving her a scratch (though her clothes weren't always that lucky). And when he carried her on his spindly back, riding the wind, Petunia had never felt more secure in her life.

But Petunia saw no reason to let Severus know about any of that. It might even be better if he assumed Aspen was something to fear. Maybe thinking she had an invisible monster would make him keep his mouth shut more securely than any threats against Lily's happiness.

And then Aspen destroyed the sinister atmosphere when he pushed his snout against Petunia's hand, asking for pets. And she couldn't bring herself to ignore him.

At least she got to hear the wretched boy squeal when Aspen nudged him next.

September 1972

They were surrounded by magical chaos, wizards and witches running around and noise buzzing across Petunia's senses like a scratchy sweater. A constant, uncomfortable annoyance she would only get rid of by leaving this place.

Looking around at all the magic, Petunia felt her stomach cramp slightly. If the wretched boy wanted to tattle, now would be his perfect chance - Petunia had no way to flee and she was outnumbered.

Her eyes wandered back to him, taking in the school uniform he had donned even before their shared car drive to London. It made him look less shabby than she was used to and it was a bit strange to see him in anything but frayed and oversized clothing. Petunia almost suspected that he would prefer to wear his school uniform every day, if he could only get away with it.

"Stop glaring at me," he said while glaring at her in turn.

"Stop glaring at me," Petunia hissed back. She didn't trust him. Why did Severus of all people have to find out about Aspen …

Lily's laugh tinkled from her left. Petunia switched her stare to her sister.

"Sorry." Lily lifted her hands placatingly. "I'm just glad to see you two get along."

"We don't get along," they chorused in identical outrage. Petunia felt the sudden, violent urge too viciously stomp on his feet.

"Oh, there's Mary! I'm going to go over for a bit." Lily was standing on tip-toes, waving to someone over Petunia's shoulder. "You want to come say hello?"

"No," they chorused again and this time Petunia could swear she heard his teeth grind while her foot twitched in anticipation. Maybe not a stomp but a nice and satisfying kick against his shin would be better to express her frustration.

Lily did an infuriating little giggle before skipping away into the chaos. Petunia focused on her red curls so she wouldn't have to look at the wretched boy. Silence stretched between them like sticky taffy, drawn-out and uncomfortable.

Petunia knew that the chances of seeing Eugene were slim. She hadn't gotten a letter yet and maybe he would go directly from Romania to Hogwarts, without stopping in London. But she hadn't wanted to miss this chance and some part of her mind was niggling at her to not let the wretched boy leave her sight.

Though that would be impossible as soon as he boarded the red train already waiting in the station. He would go to a place where she couldn't follow, a place she would never be allowed to see, let alone enter. Because she was a muggle.

"Hey you, Slytherin."

Petunia turned around at the snobby voice distracting her from her thoughts. A slight, dark-haired boy had walked up to them, his black curls parted in the centre and weighed down with product. He must be one of the new students as he wasn't wearing a uniform yet and looked no older than eleven. But even though he was small, his shoulders were pushed back and his spine straight as a ruler. He was wearing an expensive jacket with elaborate vines and crests decorating the heavy black fabric in gleaming, green stitches.

"Help me find the right compartment," he addressed Severus without giving Petunia even a glance. He talked strangely for someone his age, as if he was moulding his speech after someone decades older. "I wouldn't want to sit with any Mudbloods - or worse, Gryffindors."

If Severus was bewildered at being suddenly addressed by a stranger he did a good job of hiding it. His dark eyes expressionlessly wandered over the boy's finery and the huge trunk hovering above the ground next to his feet. Then he sneered, something Petunia had to admit Severus had quite a talent for. "Find it yourself."

"What?" The boy frowned before tapping his chest above the sewn crest. Petunia deciphered the small stitched letters - Toujours pur - only to realise that it wasn't English. "Don't you recognize this?"

Severus stared him down. Petunia almost snickered when the boy's expression morphed from haughty derision to something closely resembling honest confusion.

"What, Severus? You do not want to jump on this opportunity to become a good little lackey?"

Severus transferred his dark stare to Petunia. "Shut up."

"Why? I think you two are quite well-suited. Arrogant, moody - "

"Watch your mouth." This time the slight boy had interrupted her, his tone hard. Now that his grey-green eyes were on her for the first time, Petunia noticed that they, too, looked too old for his young face. There was no childish spark or curiosity to keep them bright and alive.

"Black! There you are," a new voice interrupted their stare-down and the boy dismissed her without another thought to look at the teenager stopping by his side.

Petunia felt a shiver of aversion run down her spine when she recognized the familiar cane the new arrival was gripping. Wasn't this the boy who had stopped her in front of the magical book store over a year ago? He had the same straight, platinum-blond hair, gathered at his neck with a black satin ribbon, and was wearing an outfit that looked straight out of a renaissance painting.

The phantom pain of small silver teeth piercing her shoulder twitched through Petunia's nerves.

He was ignoring Petunia just like the younger boy had done in the beginning, a mocking smile directed at Severus. "No need to concern yourself with the likes of him, Black. Just a useless Half-blood smearing the reputation of our noble House of Slytherin."

The younger boy's stare got more intense, focused on Severus who had looked away and was acting like he couldn't hear them.

"No need to consider him a House-mate. He does not follow our traditions and does not deserve any privileges."

The younger boy didn't react to the words. But if before his eyes had been muted, now they were electric and alive. Petunia wondered exactly what was dancing across his expression. Interest? Revulsion?

Petunia knew she should be glad that they were ignoring her, especially because she could still recall the older boy uttering some vague threats back when they first met. But being completely overlooked was rubbing her the wrong way. Just because she wasn't a fancy wizard in fancy clothes didn't mean she wasn't worth paying attention to.

Especially because Petunia could still so clearly recall what had happened in Diagon Alley while the boy had obviously forgotten her.

So she did something stupid.

Petunia stepped forward, her head tilted up to look at the blonde. "How noble of you to terrorize other's in public."

Frozen eyes focused on her for the first time. They looked like two pale chips of ice, the colour somewhere between silver and a light blue. A shiver raced down Petunia's spine when they narrowed in obvious distaste, wandering from the tips of her blond hair to the laces off her scuffed shoes.

"What's this? No trunk, no uniform, no wand - don't tell me - a muggle?"

This time the emotion painting the black-haired boy's face was quite clear - disgust. If he were more childish, Petunia could even picture him sticking his tongue out and going 'eww'.

Petunia swallowed, her mind racing with something to retort, something that would hurt him or make him back off. Both boys were obviously conceited and arrogant, their self-worth tied to their wealth and status. But she knew too little about exactly what that entailed and meant in the wizarding world - what status did they hold? And how could she undermine it?

The older boy didn't give her time to come up with anything. Her silence had been taken as assent and he gave a mocking laugh.

"The Half-blood consorting with Muggles! How fitting!"

Severus was obviously trying to ignore him, but a muscle ticking in his jaw gave him away. His face was closed off and pale as always but if Petunia didn't know better she would almost think he had blanched further.

"Even the Mudbloods thought themselves too good for you, I see. Well, for once, I can't really blame them. Don't be ashamed, I heard of a batty old wizard mingling with his house elves, your story is just a bit more disgusting. At least not a troll, I'll have to hand it to you, but who knows what your future holds - "

"Oh, blow me, Malfoy!"

Severus' outburst was so loud Petunia imagined she could hear it echo down from the cavernous ceiling. Everything around them froze for a second, as if they were imprisoned in their own little bubble of silence among the bustling of the new school semester all around them.

All three of them stared at Severus, the teenager's eyes wider than Petunia had thought possible because he had narrowed them arrogantly all the time.

Severus himself was flushed and she could see the trail anger had left while it travelled up his neck, a streak of red that led all the way to his throbbing temples. And looking at him, so obviously animated, and at the two arrogant pricks, so obviously shocked speechless, laughter burst out of Petunia.

Mean-spirited, mocking but completely genuine laughter.

Of course the wretched boy would know these kinds of saying, despite being only twelve. One just had to think about his raging father to understand where his vocabulary came from. But the flustered prick and the younger boy, whose eyes were equally as round, didn't know that.

And so Petunia freely laughed at them.

Severus shot her a miffed glare but Petunia didn't care. His face was still flushed but maybe it was not solely out of anger anymore. Something glimmered in his bottomless eyes, a spark of triumph.

"You'll regret that," the older boy - Severus had called him 'Malfoy' - hissed. "Watch your back, Half-Blood. I'd advise you to sleep with one eye open because you won't enjoy what I have planned for you. Come, Black. We wasted enough time here. I'll introduce you to some Slytherins that actually matter ."

Petunia watched them walk away; Malfoy with his cane clicking against the ground and poking anyone that dared to stand in his path, the ends of his expensive coat flapping behind him melodramatically like two black wings. And his younger sidekick, whose posture was just as straight but who couldn't stop himself from glancing back a few times.

"There are some really strange people at your freak school," Petunia muttered. And instead of protesting or getting angry, Severus just grumbled "Shut up", which Petunia took as a tacit agreement on his part.

Petunia didn't have high hopes for her fourteenth birthday. Lily and the wretched boy had left for their second year just four days ago and her parents were still obviously missing their youngest daughter. They might put on some fake cheer, but Petunia wasn't looking forward to it.

Her birthday was also a time where she realised that she didn't have anyone to celebrate with. As much as Petunia had laid claim to Lily in the past, as much she had isolated herself at the same time.

So when she got up on the morning of September third she wasn't happy or giddy at all - that was until she swished aside her window curtains.

A familiar owl was sitting on her window sill, huge orange eyes meeting her own. Petunia's brain took a second to catch up with the implication but then a smile spread across her face.

This was already a better birthday than she had wished for.

Two months without a letter had been too long.

She quickly opened the window, letting in a rush of cool morning air, waking her up further. Krampus hopped inside and clacked his beak at her, maybe in protest of the wait, maybe in greeting.

Petunia couldn't banish the excitement from her voice. "How was Romania? Were you allowed to come along?"

Only after she asked out loud did Petunia realise that talking to Aspen had made her develop a strange habit. Krampus ignored her and held out his foot so she could free him from the letter and package tied to it.

Petals,

How did you weather the English summer? Rumania was quite hot and exciting. I'm proud to say that I still have all of my fingers and most of my hair. But don't worry, the singed ends give me a very flattering, dangerous flair, if I do say so myself.

If Krampus didn't take a wrong turn, this should arrive on your birthday, so I included your present. I risked life and limb to get it so it deserves a place of honour wherever you decide to display it. And no, I didn't pluck it - I'm dangerous, not suicidal.

Sincerely,

Gene

Petunia carefully closed the letter, making sure not to crinkle it. She already knew that she would open and reread it later but right now her curiosity was too much.

She took the package - wrapped in beige paper - and was surprised at its weight. It was about as big as her spread hand but weighed more than an iron pot. Carefully unfolding it, her breath stalled when she saw what was inside.

It looked almost like an oval plate, if it wasn't slightly curved and as thick as two fingers. It shimmered iridescence, as if molten quicksilver had been poured over deep blue metal. Petunia carefully touched it, feeling the smooth, cool surface against her trembling fingertips.

A scale. She had a real dragon scale.

Before Eugene she hadn't even known that they existed. They were something she heard in children's stories, something fantastic and unbelievable. And now this scale was here, right in front of her, and she was touching it. Proof that dragons existed.

Only Krampus' impatient hoot startled her from her frozen state.

Clambering for her pen and paper, she started writing her own letter. She really wanted to ask Eugene when his birthday was because for the first time in her life she wanted to give presents instead of receiving them.

Petunia stared at the wizard in her living room, her back cold and clammy. He didn't look as intimidating as Mrs Snape, being rather of diminutive stature and with a patchy beard that obviously didn't grow the way he wanted it to - but to Petunia's eyes he could as well have been the bogeyman.

"Shoddy workmanship," he declared in a nasal voice while tapping the finally-finished fireplace with his wand. "But the charm should stick nonetheless."

Her father embarrassedly scratched his neck. "Thank you."

The wizard harrumphed. "Truly, a muggle household asking for a Floo connection … I'll let you know frankly, if not for my niece asking this favour, you would have been left waiting for years. Years! If it got ever processed at all and not put away as a joke."

"Yes, thank you," her father mumbled again. Petunia felt sick seeing him grovel before this tiny man with his ridiculous beard. She didn't want to watch any longer, but her own anxiety kept her rooted to the spot.

"The upkeep will cost you," the wizard continued. "And you better pay in Galleons next time! I've got no use for this muggle money, a bother is what it is."

Her father apologised and Petunia barely kept herself from sneering. Where were they supposed to get Galleons? She didn't even know what they looked like.

And all this so Lily's friends could come visit her.

"Let me check the chimney outside, now that I'm already here I've got to make sure everything is in order with this shabby thing. Wouldn't want to lose a limb because of a misaligned brick, now would you?"

Outside? An invisible hand clamped around Petunia's throat, its touch hot and cold at the same time. With each step the wizard took towards the garden, it squeezed tighter.

He won't look at the shed, why would he look at the shed? It's not connected to the fireplace in any way, he has no reason to check it …

Her legs felt weak but they still carried her after the wizard and her father, silently following in their wake. They stepped into the cool air, the overcast sky stretching like a grey blanket above their heads, hiding the sun and its warmth. Petunia shivered.

What if the wretched boy didn't keep his mouth shut? What if this was all a ruse to get Aspen? What if this wasn't a Ministry wizard responsible for fireplaces but one for magical pets?

Petunia's eyes were dry and itchy while she stared at the man's violet-clothed back, feeling her frenzied heart beat against her ribs like a fluttery, caged bird. But he simply strode past the garden shed, not even glancing at it, his attention focused on the chimney. He hummed and tapped and insulted it a few more times before apparently finding it up to standard.

Petunia watched him disappear. She should have felt better, but anxiety still crouched at the edge of her mind like a nighttime predator, ready to spring forward at any moment.

She already knew she would have nightmares again tonight. Nightmares about faceless men taking Aspen away and sticking her in a strange, magical prison she could never find her way out of no matter how far she ran.

In her dreams, they never ignored the shed.

Thanks for all the nice comments! I'm really happy to know that people enjoy the story