Mary MacDonald opened the door to the small house she lived in during the summer months. "Mum, I'm going now!"

Her mother gave a muffled affirmative and Mary walked out of the small house where she spent her summer months. She was going to an interview at a nearby supermarket, a quaint little store in her quaint little village. Mary had, at her mother's insistence, dolled herself up a bit for the interview. She was wearing a knee-length plaid skirt, whose pleats she could never keep straight, a white button down blouse, whose third button just could not stay together, and the hard, brown mary janes that she had worn when she was twelve. She had even wrestled her unruly blonde hair into a somewhat controlled ponytail.

Her shoes were pinching her feet a bit and her socks kept falling down as she walked down the small street that served as the town's main avenue. Given that the hamlet's population was less than the amount of students in Griffindor House alone, most everyone Mary passed knew her.

"Ah, Miss MacDonald!" said an old woman named Adamina called out, "How are ye this foine day?"

"I'm off to the grocery story for an interview, Mrs MacTully," Mary replied. Adamina MacTully's main occupation seemed to be sitting on the porch of his son's house. At least, Mary had never seen her anywhere else.

"Oh is that so, my dearie?" came Adamina's wavering question, "You really should smile more, honey, you're so very pretty, it's a shame to waste it."

Having heard this adage so many times in the recent months, Mary was able to pull up a passable shade of a smile that set Adamina's heart to rights.

"Oh, that's my better!" the elderly lady said, breaking into a smile of her own, "Just flash that at your interview and you're sure to get that job!"

"Thanks, Mrs MacTully." Mary tried her best to keep her smile up until she was well past the old woman. No use in getting a lecture where none were necessary.

It was only a short walk from anywhere in her village to anywhere else and soon Mary was walking through the doors of Sully and Son's. The store was one of the first buildings when her town had been founded and was by far the most successful place in a ten mile radius. That may be because it was the only grocery store in a ten mile radius, but Mary couldn't speak to that. The walls were slightly yellow, the floors off white, and the uniforms consisted of brown vests. It was the most anti-Hogwarts place Mary had ever seen.

Her interview was with Mr Sully (son of Mr Sully), and Mary saw the man in question standing near to one of the cashiers. He seemed to be telling the cashier off a bit, but the cashier didn't seem to be too put off by it. Mary walked up just as the two were laughing at something and she stood a bit apart from them, not wanting to seem too pushy to a new employer.

Before long, the manager turned and saw her standing there and he tilted his head in confusion. "Can I help you with something?" he asked, his voice rough, but not unkind.

"Oh, I'm Mary MacDonald, sir." Mary's voice sounded small and weak, even to her.

"Sorry, didn't catch that," said Mr Sully, straightening and walking over, "What can I help you with, missy?"

"I'm Mary MacDonald," she repeated more loudly, "I'm here about the-"

"Of course! Mary Bloody MacDonald!" proclaimed Mr Sully. "I was wondering when you'd get here!" He turned to the teenaged cashier. "Oy, Sullivan! Come meet the girl who's gonna be working with ya!"

Sullivan Sully, the poor boy, turned and smiled at Mary. Now, Mary knew the smile was kind and friendly, she knew there was nothing threatening behind it, but even so it took all of her strength to smile back at the boy. By his expression, she knew that she hadn't fully succeeded.

"Right then," interjected the senior Sully, "Right this way, Mary." He led her towards a single door in the wall near the Frozen Meats section. Mr Sully's office was small, just smaller that Mary's dorm room at Hogwarts, and was overflowing with papers of all sizes and colors. Mr Sully began shifting papers around, spilling some, but was mostly successful at allowing a space for Mary to sit down. When they were both seated, Mr Sully peered at Mary, a jovial smile on his face. Now, Mary knew it was a jovial smile, but it looked like an intimidating leer. Remembering Mrs. Adamina's advice, Mary quickly pulled up a smile of her own, like a shield against his look.

"Now," said Mr Sully reclining in his padded chair, "This is really just a formality. I know you, Miss MacDonald, and I know your parents. You could start today if you wanted to." He leaned forward. "But I've got to ask you some questions, nonetheless."

Mary started to sweat. Her starched collar began to itch. Suddenly, her blouse felt too tight and she felt short of breath, like she'd been running. Her fingers began shifting against themselves, pulling and twisting the heavy fabric of her skirt.

"Of course, sir," she managed, a squeak at the end undermining the courage that forced the words out.

Mr Sully broke into a broad grin. "Now now, Miss MacDonald, there's no reason to be nervous," he said in what was, no doubt, intended to be a reassuring tone.

Mary's only response was twitch the edges of her mouth up in a brief flash of a smile.

Mr Sully tilted his head. "Are you ok, Miss MacDonald?"

Mary tried to nod, but found that she could not. She tried to smile, but found that her mouth was frozen. She tried to get up, run away, and scream, but her body remained firmly unresponsive. She was trapped in the chair, trapped like she had been so often in her dreams, except this time she was awake. She knew that because her fingers were gripping the frame of her chair so tightly that her entire hand was turning white.

Mr Sully moved even more forward, concern masquerading as a terrifying grimace on his face. Time seemed to slow and Mary began to freak out.

"How did the interview go, honey?" asked Mary's mother.

In the time it took her to get home, Mary had calmed down significantly. Her breathing was normal and she wasn't feeling gross and sticky anymore. She had even managed a smile for old Mrs MacTully.

"Oh, it went all right, mum," replied Mary. "But I think you're right, I should enjoy my summer instead of worrying about working."

Her mother smiled and nodded. "Yes, I think that's best, Mary dear. You're young, you should enjoy your time off from school."

Mary forced a smile onto her face. "Actually, I was wondering if I could visit Lily Evans next month. She lives much closer to London, so it would be easier for me to get to King's Cross. And Lily's my best friend at school so we could finish our homework together."

"All right, all right," said her mother, obviously amused, "You can go to Lily's."

Right at that moment, there was a light tapping on the window. Both mother and daughter looked up and saw the odd sight of an owl tapping at the glass. Upon being sighted, the owl gave a muffled hoot and ruffled its feathers importantly. Mary walked over and let it in. The owl flew through the room and landed on the kitchen table, where it presented the scroll of paper attached to its leg. Ignoring her mother's look of utter confusion, Mary ran over and untied the scroll.

Hey Mary, it's Lily! My parents get back from Australia in about a month and I really want you to come over before that! Let me know! The owl's name is Morag.

"So, basically, I need you to be nice to my friend." Lily's tirade predictably ended with a remarkably simple request that Petunia had planned to follow anyway.

"Honestly, Lils, you make me out to be some terrible human being that vindictively attacks everyone in your life." Petunia was looking at her sister with a mix of bemusement and irritation. "Of course I'll be nice to your friend."

Lily pouted. "You were really mean to Sev."

Petunia rolled her eyes, "Lils, that was years ago. You had just gotten magic, how was I supposed to feel?"

Lily shrugged. "Whatever. Just be nice, ok?"

Petunia nodded and picked her philosophy book up again.

"Well, I'm going to pick her up at the bus stop. I should be back within a half hour." Lily's voice was already leaving the room and Petunia did not feel the need to reply. The door shut behind Lily.

Petunia drew a little underline in her book, marking a phrase to look at later. Her philosophy teacher, Brian Wulfric, was sufficiently interesting, and she enjoyed talking to him after class. That, however, was the extent of interesting conversation she had at school. All of the students looked askance at her, as though she were some mutant organism, unfit despite technically being allowed. Petunia knew that it was their loss, that her thoughts and ideas were meaningful and important. She had read somewhere that ninety percent of everything amounted to no more than trash, so it was not hard to simply extrapolate that idea to people as well.

"So, that's when I said to just go for it, you know?" came Lily's voice from outside the house. Petunia rolled her eyes. You could always trust Lily to be loud. "Like, what is there to lose?"

The door opened and Petunia glanced up to say hello. Her words caught in her mouth when she saw the girl Lily had brought home. She was a little taller than Lily, probably right between the two sisters in height. She had blonde hair that was just the slightest bit messy, a stray strand or two falling into her heart shaped face. She was slim, not as curvy as Lily, but a bit curvier than Petunia herself. But her eyes were what captivated Petunia. She had seen those eyes before, eyes that held pain behind them. She had seen those eyes every day for five years, from the first time Lily had performed accidental magic, until Petunia had forced herself to get past the pain and onto her own life.

"Petunia, this is Mary MacDonald," Lily was saying, "Mary, this is my sister Petunia."

Mary nodded and smiled at Petunia, only the smile was fake. It was a sham of a smile, only serving to further insulate Mary from the rest of the world. Petunia knew the smile too. Hers had not been as pained as this one, but it had been similar.

"Hi, Petunia, it's nice to meet you," said Mary, extending her hand.

Petunia stood and walked over to the poor girl. She couldn't explain it, but Petunia wanted to help Mary. She wanted to see the pain disappear from her eyes. She wanted Mary's smile to be real and genuine. "Hi, Mary. It's nice to meet you, too," Petunia said, smiling warmly.

Mary smirked and glanced at Lily. "Geez, I was expecting some kind of evil troll. You should do a better service."

Lily opened her mouth to protest, but Petunia cut in, "Oh geez, did you tell her about the babies I ate?" Lily's mouth was now opened in shock rather than indignation.

"No, it was the story where you clubbed like fifty baby seals that really did for me," Mary said, shrugging.

Petunia nodded sagely. "Ah yes. To be fair, they did want to cuddle with me."

Lily seemed to accept that she was just not going to be a part of this conversation.

"Oh is that what happened?" asked Mary, "In that case, I totally get it." She leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, tickling Petunia's neck with her breath. "Did they squeal?"

There was a silence as the words sunk in.

"Too far?" asked Mary, glancing back and forth between the two sisters.

"Yeah," said Petunia, not unkindly, "Just a bit."

"Sorry," said Mary, a little abashed, "I do that sometimes."

Petunia smiled at her. "It's fine. Everyone needs a little 'too far' in their lives once in a while."

"Well, I'll show you to your room," said Lily, taking Mary's arm in hers, "It's just this way, up the stairs."

Mary allowed herself to be led away, but glanced back at where Petunia was watching her go. She flashed a smile that was miles different from the one she introduced with. As she disappeared at the top of the stairs, Petunia allowed herself a small smile, a private smile. It was a start. And Petunia was ready to go as far as was needed.