Catching up
Petunia Evans sat rather still, - dumbstruck, gaping at the woman who was standing beside her. She was becoming increasingly more conscious of the appalling way her unwashed hair was hanging around her mascara stained cheekbones and the pathetic angles at which her two-day-old clothes stuck to her un-showered body. She was now severely kicking herself for looking like a homeless person. In her impeding crisis she had completely let herself go – and there could be no greater contrast between the two old friends who were currently staring at each other in shock.
The woman in front of Petunia looked simply impeccable. Her long blonde hair was adorned with a beautiful golden barrette; her wizard's robes were apparently covering up a gorgeous Chanel sundress, and in her hand she was clutching a purse from Prada.
Instantly Petunia's eye was drawn to the enormous diamond rock on the woman's second finger. She was married. Petunia's shrewd, gossip trained mind immediately started racking her memory and jumping from man to man, considering which ones were the most likely candidates to be the woman's husband. The conclusion she arrived at was the only possible explanation for the conspicuous ways in which her friend was so openly flaunting her money. It had to be Lucius Malfoy.
As soon as she had decided upon that particular candidate, her suspicion was confirmed when two voices spoke simultaneously: Tom, the bartender, boomed - "Mrs. Malfoy, can I get you started with a drink? " and she screeched - "Petunia! What are you doing here?"
Petunia swallowed and looking carefully from one to the other softly mumbled - "Narcissa Black."
"Petunia Evans," Narcissa said with a smile and then turned quickly to the bartender, - "Yes, Tom, can I get a firewhisky on the rocks, please."
"Sure thing, ma'am," he almost curtseyed to her as he turned away. Tom had actually been watching them beadily from his side of the counter for a while now, and for the life of him, he could not figure out how somebody as classy and aristocratic as Narcissa Malfoy could be talking to that pathetic, drunken "dirty Harriett" of a woman. However that may be, Mrs. Malfoy was in no hurry to get away from there; she stood quite still, thoroughly ignoring everyone around her, and before Tom knew it - the two women were locked in an embrace, hugging and crying; leaving him utterly bewildered.
"What - what in the world – are you doing - here?" Narcissa managed to stutter out between being squeezed to death by an overjoyed Petunia. She also had a smile on her face, although she would never allow herself to cry in public. Even if they were the tears of joy.
"I… - am back." Petunia said finally. There was nothing more that she could add to that at the moment. Too much time had passed since the last time she saw Narcissa. They have both gotten married; moved away from their old homes; build entire lives away from each other… It would have taken far too long to even begin to explain everything that led up to the reason that brought her there that day. She couldn't talk.
And so she cried. She smiled and laughed through her happy tears, unable to bring herself to blurt out the fact that her life was over, her husband left and she has nowhere to go. Without consciously meaning to, she let her tears turn into the tears of sorrow. She just kept crying, looking sadly at Narcissa, letting her sobs say it all without having to talk.
Narcissa understood. There was only one reason Petunia would ever be back amongst the wizards – an irreversible tragedy. She understood and nodded, no longer asking any questions. Petunia was grateful for it. After all these years her perfect friend remained just as perfect as she ever was – Narcissa always knew when to talk, when to laugh and when to shut up. She could tell that Petunia was in trouble, and the best thing to do was to let her cry.
They must have stood there for nearly five minutes, before Tom cleared his throat loudly and offered them some snacks to go with all the drinks. Only then did Petunia finally pull away and sit back down onto the stool she was using earlier.
"My god, Peta… You look so different now. I barely even recognized you!" Mrs. Malfoy said with a start. Her entire body lunged forward in an awkward sort of move, as she lowered herself down, next to her mess of friend, while blinking stupidly. She didn't dare look upset, or shocked, or disappointed; but it was all she could do to keep her face agreeably blank.
And yet Petunia either didn't notice or really didn't care; her tear-stained face was kind and soft - a very unnatural for Petunia, combination. She clasped her palms and reaching out, touched Narcissa's hand, -
"But you, Narcissa, look the same as ever. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were still sixteen." Petunia chuckled at her own truthful words and swiftly closed her eyes. As soon as her lids met her lower lashes, she could immediately see the two of them looking twenty years younger, walking down the edge of the forest by the old gamekeeper's hut, as if it were only yesterday. Petunia smiledas she watched a fourteen-year-old Narcissa run ahead of her on the path, laughing freely into the silence of enormous, magnificent trees; pausing for a moment, Narcissa stooped and grabbing a little stone off the ground flung it as hard as she could into the midst of green leaves hanging low off their branches, rustling threateningly, as if intending to swallow the students who ventured too near them whole. The stone disappeared into the trees without as much as a whistling sound; the two girls just stood there, watching the spot where it had been…
At that moment, Tom, the bartender, came over with a bill and not quite making it to the part of the counter where Petunia was sitting, he halted and gaped incredulously at the smiling, muggle-witch woman who was beginning to look positively insane. Her eyes were still closed and her vacant expression was that of a blissful being... – so different from what she had been only ten minutes ago. He couldn't guess that she was simply lost in thought, taking a trip down the memory lane. His concerned gaze was caught my Mrs. Malfoy, who quickly snatched the check out of his hand and gently waved him off, silently ordering him not to disturb Petunia. He walked away, shaking his head and mumbling something about pureblooded indecency.
And then, all of a sudden, Petunia's eyes snapped open and an expression of horror grew on her lined and tired face. Narcissa almost fell over backwards, it was so unexpected.
"But then, - … you must be – … It can't be! Have I really been this stupid!" She paused, looking up into Narcissa's alarmed face. "But it all makes sense… I suppose. Cissy, are you - does my… nephew live with you!?"
Mrs. Malfoy drew in a sharp breath and blinked several times before mumbling incoherently, -"Oh, my… Good God, he IS your nephew, isn't he. In the name of Merlin, HOW could that have never crossed my mind!!!"
Narcissa was truly shocked this time. She knew, of course that Harry Potter was the son of Lily Evans, and that Lily was Petunia's younger sister, but she has never, in the past five years thought to put the two and two together. When her husband went to meet the relatives that Draco's friend was living with, she didn't go with him. When he came back and told her all about the vile muggles, she half listened, half attempted not to nod off – it simply didn't interest her.
Ever since Draco befriended Harry Potter, Narcissa made it a strict rule to avoid getting close to him at all costs, for a very personal and painful reason. Lucius was not aware of this reason, but Petunia knew it all too well. For Lucius's benefit, she tried to act as if did not bother her; she always treated Harry very warmly, unable to resist having a heart-felt talk from time to time about her own school days, when James and Lily were alive and well.
But for the most part, Narcissa Black did her best to repress inside her memory the very reason Harry Potter came into existence, almost sixteen years ago. She wanted nothing more than to forget about the night his parents died, and he had disappeared off the radar, into a life among the muggles, away from the magical world. And now it had finally struck her that Petunia and her husband must have been the very "muggles" who have been taking care of James Potter's son following the night when his wife and him were killed. Really, if she cared to think about it, who else could it have been? Heather? Had she really believed, deep inside her mind that Heather Evans was the one appointed guardian over Lily's little boy? Indeed, she did think that. After Petunia had vanished shortly after seventh year, Narcissa thought that she had died, or fled the country… She never thought that Petunia stayed where she was, married a muggle and settled down in Surrey, while bringing up the wizard boy sensation – Harry Potter.
"Petunia, why have you never come forward and let me know you were alive?"
"I didn't want the wizarding world to know that I was alive. Especially you, Narcissa. You were the one person in the entire Hogwarts school, who actually meant something to me as a friend. I might not have had the strength to disappear, if I had kept in touch with you." She sounded sincere. Her tears have finally subsided and the mascara underneath her eyes was carelessly wiped away. "I had no idea that this 'Lucius' fellow, who have been meeting with my husband every time he came to pick up Harry, was the Lucius Malfoy! Dear Lord, I've worked so hard to block everything out, I completely forgot to make that obvious association!"
Neither woman could believe the absurdity of the entire situation. Their "children" have been best friends for the past five years and they never even knew. Of course, if Petunia had taken a keener interest in her nephew's affairs, she would have figured it all out sooner; and if Narcissa was not so determined to disassociate herself from everything that had to do with Potters, she would have learned the truth a while ago as well.
But they could not turn back the time, and soon their talk had turned toward the future. Petunia quickly told her friend about her marital troubles and confided such personal things in her, that she had never told to anyone else before.
Several hours later when it was finally time for the two women to say goodbye, Petunia found herself saying the one thing that she couldn't bring herself to think about – her immediate situation.
"My only plan is now to go find Heather," she said, and her friend knew exactly why. It was important for Petunia to go and visit the house that she grew up in and hope against hope that it was still there and that she was welcome in it. Narcissa knew that she would do the same.
Although she was putting quite a lot on faith. There was no guarantee that Heather was even back in England, or that Lily hadn't sold the house before she died. Or that Petunia had even the slightest chance of being accepted back into her family and into the magical community without severe repercussions.
Harry Potter arrived at the grate of the Florish and Blotts's bookstore in Diagon Alley ten seconds after stepping inside the fireplace of Malfoys' flat. Caleb Ralis immediately followed. After shaking themselves free of ashes, the boys stepped out of the store and looked around the street. The Alley seemed to bustling and bursting at the seams with young witches and wizards who were doing some early school shopping, trying to beat the crowds that were bound to fill the streets closer to September first , when the textbook lists arrived. The girls were out looking for the fancy styles of school robes and some pretty shoes to match them; the boys were stocking up on parchments and new quills. Harry and Caleb were not there to be do either. Having thought about it for a minute, they silently nodded to each other and spotting the broomstick store several shops up, headed up there, strolling leisurely through.