Part Two

The Other Evans Sister & the Pureblood Auror

20

Petunia's Knight in Shining Armor

Petunia knew it had been a mistake to answer the door when she saw it was Vernon on the other side of it. She hadn't seen him in months and had refused all of his telephone calls, hoping that he would get the hint that it was over and leave her alone. No such luck. Then he had started writing her letters, which she had returned unopened with a big Return To Sender scrawled in red across it.

But he had been shivering in the cold and so she had opened the door, intending to tell him good day and wish him a good holiday. "Petunia, I need to talk with you," were the first words out of his mouth.

"Vernon, I have nothing more to say to you. It's all been said," she began.

"No, please, Pet. I . . .I came to tell you that I want you back." He began, and then he had yanked her out the door. "C'mere, by the car. I don't want your nosy parents or sister listening in on our private conversation, luv."

"Vernon, let me go!" she had cried, but she was no match for his strength. "Lily's gone out with Severus, and my parents would never listen in on a private conversation. Why don't you come in and have a cup of tea and some scones?" She tried to entice him with food, which had always worked before. Vernon had a hearty appetite.

"Later. First listen to me," he crooned, and as he leaned towards her to give her a sloppy kiss, the scent of spirits hit her nostrils.

"Ugh! You've been drinking!"

"So? Helps warm me up. It's cold as a witch's tit out here." He hauled her up against the car and pressed his mouth down on hers. "C'mon, baby, lemme show you a good time. Remember, I always showed you a good time." His lips ground into hers and she gasped.

"Stop it! You're hurting me!" She beat on his chest. But it was no use, he was like a walking mountain of lard. The smell of his aftershave mingled with the smell of beer and made her sick to her stomach.

"Aww, don't be like this, Pet." He fumbled drunkenly at her blouse, trying to undo the buttons. "I came over to take you out to dinner and the cinema."

She smacked his hands down. "I told you and told you, I will not go out when you're like this!" Petunia cried angrily. "You're drunk and I don't date walking beer bottles!"

"You can't tell me what to do, Petunia! It's your fault I had one too many, since you're so frigid you won't show a guy a good time!"

Next thing she knew he had slapped her hard across the face and she banged her head against the car. Before she could draw breath to scream for help, a tall dark-haired boy suddenly appeared from out of nowhere and hauled Vernon off of her by the back of his collar.

"Oi, didn't your mother ever teach you how to treat a lady?" growled the newcomer, spinning Vernon about and glaring at him from behind black-framed glasses.

"What? Now listen here, you, this ain't none of your concern! This's a private conversation!" slurred Vernon, yanking free of the taller boy's hold. "Go home and mind your own business."

James's eyes narrowed. "I asked you a question, mister," he drawled, using the aristocratic haughty tone that always irritated Snape to no end. "Where I come from, men don't raise a hand to a lady."

"Like I give two shits," Vernon growled. "But out, boy, b'fore I teach you some manners."

"I'd like to see you try, you drunken lout," James laughed mockingly.

Vernon swung, putting the full force of his two hundred and twenty pounds behind the blow.

It never connected.

James danced away, using his Quidditch-honed reflexes to dodge Vernon's haymaker.

Vernon's fist whistled overhead, missing James' head by a good foot.

"Clumsy and stupid," sneered the wizard. "Let me show you how it's done." Then he circled and jabbed a punch right into Vernon's stomach.

"Ooof!" the bigger boy doubled over and James gave him another punch in the eye. He had learned while scrapping with Snape how to hit and then move away, and now, faced with a boy twice his size and many pounds heavier, James appreciated the unofficial lessons in fist-fighting Snape had given him.

But Vernon was built like a pint-sized elephant, and soon recovered from the blows and charged James, slamming into him like an express train and knocking the lighter boy down.

They scuffled on the ground while Petunia looked on, her face blotchy, holding a hand to her burning cheek, wondering if she should call her father or just let the two scrap. In the end, she decided to wait and only summon her parent if it looked like her rescuer was getting the worst of it. She had longed for someone to give Vernon a good thrashing ever since the summer.

Vernon's fist impacted with James's lip, and he winced as his lip promptly split open. He jerked his head back, but not quick enough to avoid the other punch Vernon landed in his left eye. Pain exploded in the side of his face and he heard the familiar crack of his glasses breaking, but he refused to cry out. Vernon laughed and James thought desperately, Got to get the fat bugger off of me, his weight's smothering me by inches.

But before he could try and aim a kick at the obese teenager, Vernon brayed and stepped off of him, drawing a foot back to kick the smaller boy in the ribs.

James rolled away, however, and the kick only grazed him.

Oh, get up, please, whoever you are! Petunia found herself nearly biting her nails as the dark-haired rescuer avoided Vernon's foot and scrambled to his feet. Now give it to the bounder!

James was panting, but still full of fight, his temper was raging, for he detested men who hurt women, physically or otherwise. And this bully, he sensed, was one of the worst of that sort. Keeping his head down, he moved in quick, as if he were trying to score a goal in Quidditch, and then he snapped his hand out in two quick jabs, hitting Vernon once in the nose and the other in the mouth.

The older boy staggered backwards with a howl, blood spurting all over him.

"Had enough, you sodding bully?" he demanded, ignoring the trickle of blood down his own face. "Or shall I give you some more?"

Vernon was snuffling and whimpering, but too stupid to know when to quit, and he tried again to tackle James into the snow beside the walk.

But this time James was prepared and stuck out a foot, Vernon landed belly down in the snow, his fat bum sticking up like the proverbial pig in a poke.

The young wizard smirked and gave the other a hard boot in his fat arse, making him squeal like the pig he resembled. "Take that, you bloody coward! That's what you get for hitting a lady."

Vernon scrambled up, dripping blood all down his expensive jumper, spat out a tooth and came at James, windmilling his arms, trying to connect with the quicker boy.

It took James four more good ones to knock the last of the fight out of Vernon, but finally he had the other boy down and his arm bent behind his back, making him yelp. "Had enough?"

"Yes! Oww! Yes! Ahh! Please, don't break my arm! Arghh!"

"I should break your arm. Or maybe your fingers," James said, tugging a bit on the other's arm.

"No-o-o! Please! Mercy!" Vernon blubbered.

"Apologize to the lady, you fat bastard," ordered James, turning Vernon to face Petunia.

"I . . .I'm sorry! I'll never do it again, Petunia!" Tears and snot were dribbling down Vernon's face.

Petunia grimaced. "That's right, you won't. Because next time you set foot on my property, Dursley, I'm calling the police. Now get in your car and go home, before I have you arrested for assault."

James manhandled him to the car, opened it, and half-shoved the wheezing Vernon inside. "Get going, and if I ever see you around here again, I'll do worse."

"Don't touch me, you daft bugger! I'll have you up on charges, I will!" Vernon blustered.

James laughed. "I think the . . .police will lock you up before they do me, after what you've done. Get, you tosser!" he slammed the door almost on Vernon's hand.

As Vernon peeled out of the drive, Petunia turned to James and said, "Are you hurt badly? Thank you for coming to my rescue like that."

"I'll live." James said gallantly. "He hit you harder than he did me."

"I doubt that, since you're all over blood," Petunia said wryly. "I'm sorry, we've not been introduced. I'm Petunia Evans."

"James Potter." He gave her a lopsided smile.

She found herself smiling back at him, he had come dashing in just like a white knight in a fairy tale, although right then he looked slightly the worse for wear, with his bloody lip and eye and cracked glasses. "Oh, dear, your glasses!"

"Don't worry. I can mend 'em," James said, and took them off and tapped them with a finger, muttering, "Occulo Reparo!" He slipped them back on his head. "There! Good as new!"

"Why, you're a . . .a wizard!" Petunia exclaimed. "Like my sister and Severus."

"Yes, I go to school with them," James admitted. "Matter of fact, that's why I was here, I was coming to see Lily."

"Really? Was she expecting you?"

"Uh, no. It was sort of a . . .spur of the moment thing."

"Oh. Well, she's not at home, she and Sev went out to see It's A Wonderful Life at the cinema. Lily loves that movie." Petunia said. "I'm glad you showed up though, James."

"So am I. I can't abide a man who hits women."

"Why don't you come inside and let me fix up your face, you look a fright. Although Vernon looked worse," she giggled softly.

"Bloody bounder!" James swore, then he flushed. "Sorry, I shouldn't swear in front of a girl that way."

Petunia arched an eyebrow. "Thank you for considering my feelings. It's kind of old-fashioned, but I like it." She led the way inside the house.

* * * * * *

Ten minutes later, James was seated at the Evans' kitchen table, his hands in a bowl of ice water, they were bruised and scraped, and his face being tended expertly by both Polly and Petunia.

Petunia's parents had been shocked and outraged when they caught sight of their daughter with a livid handprint on her cheek accompanied by a bloodied stranger. Henry had immediately threatened to grab a gun and shoot Vernon's balls off. "That'll teach the bugger to lay a hand on my daughter."

"Harry! For goodness sake!" Polly sputtered. "Don't you go off half-cocked now. I don't want you to end up in jail like Severus's father. He's not worth it, and besides, this young man thrashed him quite soundly." She patted James on the shoulder. "While I don't normally approve of violence, in this case, it was deserved." She handed James a cloth filled with ice. "Hold that on your lip, dear, it'll keep down the swelling."

He took the ice pack, but hesitated before applying it, saying softly, "Did I hear you right, ma'am? Snape's father is in prison?"

"Aye, and hopefully he stays there," Polly said darkly. "Nasty chap. Drunken bum. Hurt his wife, poor thing, and Severus too. Mostly Sev though, beat the stuffing outta him, and finally Eileen got sick o' it and called the police and they arrested the rotten bounder."

James gaped at her. Sniv—Snape was abused by his father? Holy Merlin! Guess that's why he was always so scruffy looking or whatever.

"Mum, please! I'm sure Severus wouldn't like you talking about him that way to someone we hardly know," Petunia objected, knowing how touchy Severus was about his home life.

"Oh, dear. I have put my foot in it," Polly sighed, her quick tongue tended to run away with her. "Still, you'll keep quiet about it, won't you, lad? You go to school together so you ought to know what's up, ey?"

"Yes, Mrs. Evans." James said quickly. "I won't say anything." What was most shocking was that he meant it. He wouldn't even tell Sirius about what he had learned. It made him feel almost . . .sympathetic to Snape. He quickly placed the ice pack on his lip. There are things about Severus Snape that you know nothing about. Lily's words to him last time he had spoken to her floated into his head and he wondered if that fact—the fact that Snape's father was a nasty abusive drunk who beat up his wife and kid—were one of the things Lily had meant.

"Tilt your head back a bit, dear," Mrs. Evans said. "I need to see how bad that cut is above your eye." She gently brushed the teen's messy mop of hair away from his forehead and began gently sponging the blood away from his eyebrow. "Hmm. Doesn't look like it'll need stitches. You were lucky, James."

"Stitches?" he repeated, wondering what on earth they were.

"Not to worry, the cut's not that deep," Polly reassured him. "I can put some sticking plaster on and it'll hold together."

Until I'm home and my mum can heal it, James thought, but did not say aloud, not wanting to be rude.

"Best clean it first, though. You never know where Dursley's hand has been." Polly joked, reaching for a brown bottle and a gauze pad.

"Mother!" Petunia gasped, going red. Then she chuckled wickedly. "Isn't it the truth, though."

"Keep still, lad. 'Twill sting, but it needs to be cleaned," Polly warned before applying the cloth soaked in peroxide to James' eyebrow.

"Ow!" he hissed, gritting his teeth. It stung, though no worse than an antibacterial potion, he thought after a moment, and Mrs. Evans was very gentle.

Five seconds later his eyebrow was taped and he was sipping a cup of tea while alternating between that and the ice pack, for the tea stung his lip, but he enjoyed tea and so endured the discomfort.

Across from him, Petunia nursed her own cup of tea and held an identical bag to her cheek. Their eyes met and James was startled to feel a sudden surge of attraction to the blond-haired girl, as well as a wave of protectiveness.

Petunia did not have Lily's beautiful emerald eyes or auburn hair, nor her younger sister's curves, but she was not unattractive. Her hair was a medium blond, not too pale or too golden, but just right. And she was slender, with high cheekbones, and a lively mouth and her eyes were a spectacular blue, like cornflowers. Her chin was a bit angular, but it gave her character, he decided. From what he had heard Lily say about her sister, she was stubborn and opinionated, but also loyal and smart, with a rather wicked sense of humor, and a sharp tongue if you happened to get on her bad side. She was also eighteen to Lily's fifteen, three years his senior as well. Strangely, that knowledge did not intimidate him.

She's got pluck. Most girls that had been attacked like that would've been bawling their eyes out on their mum's shoulder. And she did cry a bit, but not for long and now she's even got spunk enough to joke about the slimebucket. I like that in a girl.

He had liked that quality about Lily as well, he realized, but he sensed that Petunia was not as independent as Lily, and wouldn't mind a strong arm to lean on once in awhile. The way she had looked at him after he had thrashed that slob Vernon . . . all starry eyed and awed, well he had not had a girl look at him that way in some time and he had missed it.

"Ahem!" Henry cleared his throat and both young people turned to look at him. "Mr. Potter, I'd like to thank you for saving Tuney from that rotten thug Dursley. Would you like to stay for dinner? Polly was expecting Lily and Sev to be here, but they decided to grab a bite down at the diner in town instead. We would like it very much if you'd stay, Polly's making her famous herbed chicken and roasted potatoes and creamed asparagus and cinnamon buns for dessert."

"Strawberry trifle, dear," Polly corrected. "Tuney made it."

James's eyes lit up. "That sounds delicious, sir. I'd be honored."

"Good! It's settled then." Henry said, pleased. "Do you have to call home and tell your parents where you are?"

"Already did that, sir. I told my . . .manservant I'd be having dinner at a friend's house," James replied smoothly, unsure how much the Muggles knew about wizarding customs, such as house elves.

Henry raised an eyebrow. "Servants, eh? Are you titled then, Mr. Potter?"

"Um . . .no, not in the way you mean. I'm not a lord or anything, just a pureblood wizard from a Founding family."

"What's a Founding family?" asked Petunia.

"It's a family who can trace their antecedents back to the great Merlin," James answered. "My family is one, and most purebloods have at least three or more descendants of Merlin's line in their family tree."

"How many do you have?" Polly asked.

"Four," James replied. "The Potters married well. My mother, Liana Bones, is from a Founding family too, one of the oldest."

"And these . . .Founding families, are they considered upper crust?" Henry asked, he could tell from the boy's accent and clothes, despite the blood staining them, that he was well off. He spoke like a toff, and generally that sort irritated plain Henry Evans, but this one had saved his daughter and so he was willing to overlook it, especially since the boy had been polite and not sneering or condescending the way Vernon had been.

"Yes, I suppose so. Some purebloods, well they think they're better than . . .um . . .Muggleborns, like Lily, but my family has never been like that," James hastened to reassure the older man. "Lily is one of the strongest witches of our generation, so it just goes to show that being a pureblood isn't everything."

"Right you are," Henry nodded in approval. "Where do you come from, James?"

"My family has an estate near Harrogate, I grew up there, though we also have a townhouse in London."

"Ah, another northern Yorkshireman." Henry smiled. "You've not the accent though."

"That's because of my grandmother, sir. Grandmama insisted I learn to speak the Queen's English properly, with none of this northern burr nonsense, as she put it. She used to whack my knuckles with her fan if I forgot," James admitted with a rueful grin. "Eventually I stopped forgetting." She had also threatened to hex his tongue to silence as well, but he didn't see why he should tell them that. It would probably alarm them, being Muggles.

"Are you an only child then?" asked Petunia curiously.

James nodded. "You mean Lily never told you about me?"

She shook her head. "No, she never mentioned you."

"Oh," James was unsure whether to be relieved or insulted. He decided it was better that they knew nothing about him, or else his warm reception might be cut short. And he was quite looking forward to dinner. "Well, we're in the same House at school, Gryffindor, so I thought she might have mentioned something about me or one of my friends. I play Quidditch at school, I'm a Chaser, has she ever mentioned anything about sports?"

"No, but I like a good game of football or cricket," Henry said. "Is it like one of those?"

"Well . . .you see, you play it on broomsticks and fly . . ." James began explaining his favorite pastime to Henry, his hazel eyes sparkling.

Petunia was quietly observing him over the rim of her teacup, thinking how boyishly handsome he looked compared to her former boyfriend. Vernon had been decent looking, if stocky and lately he had gotten portly, but he had never been a looker the way James Potter was, with his near-black hair and carefree smile and the face of a devilish rogue. Be careful, Tuney, this one could be dangerous, her conscience whispered. You could fall for this one if you let yourself, and the last thing you need is to get involved with a wizard. It's best if you stick to your own kind.

But a traitorous corner of her heart whispered that there was no law that said she had to date a . . .Muggle, as wizard called ordinary humans. And after the experience she had had with Vernon, who was as ordinary as you could get, she wasn't too eager to involve herself with another of his kind again. But James . . .James had rescued her, just like a knight in shining armor, defeating the wicked ogre who had attempted to carry her off. So perhaps he was safe. She stifled a giggle. Here she was, mooning over a boy who was three years younger than she, still a schoolboy, for heaven's sake! And yet . . .he really was very handsome . . .almost like a movie star . . .and he didn't seem at all stuck-up. Unless he was only putting on a good front, the way Vernon had done.

I'll wait and see, she decided. By the end of dinner, she would have a better picture of him. You could tell a lot about a man by the way he ate and how appreciative he was of those who had cooked the meal.

She finished her tea and rose to help her mother prepare dinner, leaving her rescuer and her father discussing that weird magical sport Quiddark or whatever it was called. Men! Magical or Muggle, they were all sports mad!

* * * * * *

The herbed chicken and potatoes and asparagus was excellent, James told Polly after he had eaten two helpings. "Usually I don't like asparagus, Mrs. Evans, and don't really eat vegetables unless my mother makes me, but your asparagus tastes great."

Polly beamed, she took great pride in her cooking. "Thank you, dear, glad I made a convert. Harry never ate much veggies either till he married me. I can give you the recipe to take home to your mum if you'd like."

James nodded, thinking this meal beat even those Annabeth and Prixley, his mother's and father's house elves, prepared back at Potter Manor. "That would be capital, Mrs. Evans."

"And just wait till you taste Tuney's strawberry trifle," bragged Henry. "It's the best in all of Yorkshire."

Petunia blushed. "Now, Dad, I'm no gourmet chef."

"No, you're better," her father insisted, reaching out to gently touch her cheek where Vernon had hit her. The swelling had gone down some, but he could tell she would have a bruise tomorrow. "Miserable bastard!" he muttered. "He ought to be locked up in the same cell as Tobias Snape."

Polly nodded, her eyes hard. "Bad upbringing."

"I'd say so," agreed James, sipping the fizzy drink Petunia had called Coke. "Guess his father never taught him how to treat a lady. My father was never what you'd call strict, but one thing he did insist upon and that was to never be rude or hurtful to a girl. Once when I was seven, I was playing with my cousin Amelia and I got mad because she beat me in Exploding Snap—that's a wizard card game—and I called her a cheating hag and pushed her into a mud puddle. When my father found out . . .he was mad enough to spit fire. He took away my broom for a week and gave me a good paddling, the only time he ever did that, now that I think about it. And then he made me say sorry to Amelia." Then he blushed, wondering what on earth had prompted him to tell that story, of all things?

"Bet you learned your lesson though," Henry said sagely.

"Yes, I did." James said sincerely. I couldn't sit down for nearly a day afterwards, but it was the disappointment in his face that hurt worse than my bum. I never wanted him to look at me like that again.

"If someone had done that to Vernon when he was growing up, maybe he would have learned not to treat women like dirt," Petunia said angrily.

"Maybe he would have," Polly said, giving her a hug. "But either way, you're well rid of him, Tuney. Would you all like tea with your trifle?"

The trifle was just as good as Henry had said, and James nearly felt like licking the bowl after he finished the last spoonful. "This was the best trifle I've ever eaten. You should enter a cooking contest, Petunia. I'm sure you'd take first prize."

Now it was Petunia's turn to blush. Vernon had never praised her humble cooking skills this way. "Thanks, James. I'm glad you liked it."

He grinned back at her, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Who wouldn't?"

They spent a pleasant half-an-hour longer discussing various topics, and they introduced James to the telly, which he found fascinating, and kept asking how people moved and talked inside of it if it wasn't magical. Henry attempted to explain about video recorders and such, but wasn't sure James got it. But all too soon it was half past eight and James bid the Evans' farewell.

Petunia walked him to the door. "I'll tell Lily you stopped by."

"Please do. And . . .if you ever need rescuing again . . .you can call me."

"Is that a promise, Mr. Potter?"

"It is," he said.

"Maybe I ought to call you Sir James then," she teased.

"Sir James," he chuckled. "Like a white knight. I like it." He bowed to her then, and picked up her hand and kissed her palm. "Alas, my Lady Petunia, I must bid you good night."

She giggled at his whimsy, trying to conceal how his playful kiss had made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. "Farewell, sir knight. Perhaps I might see you again anon?"

"If my lady wishes."

"Milday does," Petunia said earnestly. "How about Saturday next?"

"Are you . . .asking me out?" he asked, astonished.

"Yes. Why? Is it not done that way in the wizarding world?"

"Um . . .yes, it's just . . .I'm surprised you'd want to go out when we've only just met."

"You had dinner with me and my family. And you comported yourself like a gentleman." She bit her lip. "I thought . . .You came here looking for Lily. Is it because you want to date her then?"

"I . . .no . . . well, sort of . .. but she's taken, isn't she?"

"Very much so. She's been dating Sev since the summer and they've always been together, ever since they were little. He's always fancied her and she's always adored him."

James took a deep breath. "Then it seems I should look elsewhere. Would you be so kind as to go out with me, Petunia Evans?"

Petunia looked thoughtful. "I will. So long as you don't expect me to be my sister, James Potter. Lily and I are two different people, best you realize that straight away," she told him sternly. "Or else you can forget it."

He met her eyes squarely. "Understood."

"Good. Saturday next, then?"

"Fine with me. You can send me an owl . . .uh, I mean, Lily can . . .I can send Orpheus to you and you can send me a letter, will that be all right?"

"Does the owl bite? Or make a mess all over?"

"No, Orpheus is well trained," James said hastily. "He would never bite or . . .leave droppings anywhere. We teach our post owls well, lady. Just leave a window open Saturday morning and Orpheus will deliver my letter to you and wait for a reply. Oh, and if you could feed him a bit of buttered toast, he likes a treat after he brings a letter, kind of a reward."

"I can do that. What sort of owl is he?"

"He's a barn owl. I got him as a birthday present when I was ten."

"A barn owl! Oh, they're so adorable! I love their heart-shaped faces!"

James laughed. "Yeah, he's adorable, all right." Kind of like his master.

"Well then, I'll await your owl, sir. Good night."

"Good night, milady Evans," James sketched her another bow and then turned to go.

Only to run smack into Lily, who was just returning from her date with Severus.

"Potter! What are you doing here?"

"Uh, I was just leaving," he began.

"Not so fast," Lily put out a hand. "What are you doing here at my house? How did you find out where I lived?"

"I . . .followed you, okay?"

Lily's eyes flashed. "Why? Plan on trying to talk some sense into me? Try to convince me not to see Severus?"

"I . . .might have been thinking that . . .but . . .I've realized that would be useless. Your sister explained a few things to me."

"He rescued me from Vernon, Lily." Petunia put in.

"What?" Lily stared at her sister. "Whatever do you mean, Tuney?"

"What I said. James was waiting for you and he saw Vernon hit me and he dragged him off and walloped him good and proper."

"You did that for my sister, Potter? For a Muggle? How come?"

"Because it was the right thing to do." James said. "Look, I'd love to stay and chat, but my mother is probably waiting up and pacing a hole in the carpet waiting for me to get home. Talk to Petunia, Lily. She'll tell you what happened. Goodbye, Lily. Petunia, look for my owl on Saturday."

Then he beat a hasty retreat out the door, retrieved his broom and turned towards home, after activating the charm built into the broom that would guide him back to the Potter estate, ensuring he could never become lost, since that had happened once when he was a little boy and gone flying alone without permission.

Oh, Merlin! I hope she still wants to go out once Lily tells her what an arse I was to her during school. Damn and damn! Never before had he ever regretted his past actions the way he did now, and never had he ever worried about a girl rejecting him based upon his reputation. He had always assumed Lily had refused his advances because of Snape, not because of anything he had done to drive her off. But now he was worried and he discovered he did not like the feeling at all. He heaved a sigh and flew faster, he would just have to hope for the best and see what she replied next Saturday. If she replied.

So, how did you enjoy James' confrontation with Vernon? I really liked giving him what he deserved!

Did you like the meeting with the Evans?

Just so you know, Harry is a nickname for Henry, and Polly often calls her husband that.

What do you think will happen next? Will Petunia agree to go out with James after Lily talks to her?

One final note: Though this part of the story focuses mainly on James and Petunia, Sev and Lily will still be in it, as will Regulus and the rest of the Marauders.