December 1973

The Winter of 1973 hit the Muggle world hard. The energy crisis caused layoffs, strikes, and long, hard weeks of no electricity for the Evans family. Mrs. Evans wrote her daughters that she'd been without heat at the factory for three days out of the week and everyone was tired of working in the dark and cold. The union at her factory was considering striking in solidarity with the coal miners' union if the crisis went on for much longer. Mr. Evans suffered as well; all the shops had been ordered to cut their electricity during the day to save on energy. He'd taken to wearing fingerless gloves and a huge overcoat to work. Mrs. Evans included a photograph. Petunia and Lily, comfortable and a bit guilty in front of their respective common room fires, separately concluded that he looked like Bob Cratchit and decided to bring home a few jarred fires for the Holidays.

Hogwarts made do as best it could. A few Muggle-born children went home early to help their families get through the winter, and there were rumors going around that many of them may not return if the situation remained dire. Headmaster Dumbledore made arrangements to ensure those students' safe return to their school, should they wish it, at any time.

This couldn't have been easy for him, Petunia thought. The Magical world was going through a crisis of its own. The huge tariff hike on imported broom-wood caused a catastrophic government tangle between the Ministry and its main suppliers on the continent. Broom handles skyrocketed in price. Witches and Wizards who relied on them for transport could not get them replaced when they failed. The flying charm could only be renewed so many times before the natural wear and tear on the broom itself made it unfit to fly. Splinching became an epidemic. The hospitals could not keep up. When a teenage boy died before he could be tended by a Healer, the Ministry reacted by raising the minimum age of Apparition from 15 to 17. This was regarded as a weak response by the Magical community at large. The Minister for Magic was unlikely to serve another term, the way things stood. Still, in the midst of this chaos, Dumbledore had somehow managed to twist the school attendance law in his favor. No one knew how he'd done it.

Even the weather was as foreboding as a whisper of dementors. Thick, silent snow fell on the castle grounds as Petunia and the other fourth year Ravenclaws walked from the Greenhouse. The snowflakes seemed to cast a blanket on sound, so that any conversation was muffled and tinny, even when the speakers were walking closely together. It was as if everyone was surrounded by a thin sheet of glass.

Conversation carried on in spite of silencing snow and the crunch of boots on ice. The topic that day was the news.

The Daily Prophet had just released a story on another string of murders, this time in Wales. A locally renowned Medi-Witch had been found dead in her office that week, shortly after another Healer had been killed in Maes-yr-Uchaf Wood while collecting samples of wood-sorrel. A third death had just occurred that day. This time the victim was a maker of magical spectacles, rumored to have made the very same half-moon glasses that Dumbledore wore. The Aurors were treating the murders as serial crimes, thanks to the methods by which each victim had been killed, and because each of them had two traits in common: they were all Muggle-born, and they had all spoken out against Lord Voldemort.

Lord Voldemort and his followers, a group of people called the Death Eaters, had suddenly risen in power almost a decade previous. Though the group claimed to exist only for the advancement of all the Magical communities of the world, anyone who spoke against them often disappeared. No one had been able to prove that it was them, much less their leader. But this was not the first time a group of Muggle-born people had been murdered since Voldemort came to power five years previous. Nor was it the first time someone who had spoken out against him disappeared. And far too many students were not visibly upset at the news for Petunia's liking.

Things were changing in the Magical world, and Petunia was afraid of it.

"Don't be paranoid," Billiam McTufty told her when she admitted this to her classmates. "The Aurors'll sort it out soon. They're the best dark-wizard catchers in the world."

"But what if it's the Death Eaters?" asked Akeelah Pango. Her large brown eyes were wide as galleons. Snow clung to her densely curled hair. "No one even knows who they are. How can they catch someone who wears a mask?"

"They look for the mask, for a start," said Petunia.

Akeelah glared. "You know what I mean!"

"But what if it's more than just them?" added Mako Yamada. "What if it's him?"

The students exchanged dark looks. There was no question of who Yamada meant. McTufty drew himself up like a very important pigeon.

"Him? Don't be daft," he said. "He talks about blood purity and protecting our own, but no one believes that stuff nowadays. Maybe in our parents' time, but we're more enlightened now. There's legislation against that kind of thing. And thank goodness for that!" He gave Petunia what he clearly thought was a sympathetic smile. "Anyway, the Aurors have investigated him enough that it's pretty clear that he's not killing anyone. It's ludicrous to even consider it. You mark my words: this is the work of a single, random madman. They'll catch him soon and then you'll see that all this worrisome speculation was just that: speculation."

"It's not speculation!" insisted Akeelah. "It's an examination of the facts! We have the right to be scared!"

Billiam sighed, reached out, and patted Akeelah's hand. She gave him an incredulous look, which he completely ignored. "Akeelah, please, be reasonable. I never said you were wrong for being afraid. I simply pointed out that there's no sign that this hasn't been done by a lone lunatic."

"She's being perfectly reasonable," snapped Petunia. "Anyone who speaks out against him disappears. It's not as if they're being abducted by pixies."

He shrugged. "Not everyone does. Dumbledore's is still around, and Bartemius Crouch is still going on about him every time he steps outside. What I'm telling you is that without proof, anyone could have done it. Pinning it all on one public figure is illogical."

"It's a clear case of cause and effect," said Mako. "No one's proven anything, but the implications are obvious to anyone willing to pay attention."

Billiam bowed. "We shall simply have to agree to disagree."

"Don't make me laugh," said Petunia, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, what do you care? You're a Pureblood. You'll never have to worry about anyone murdering you for your blood status."

McTufty held up one finger and waved it like a conductor's baton. "Not true! Purebloods face constant persecution from Muggle-borns! There's no pressure on you to live up to the family name, for one. And you get all kinds of perks that we don't get! Why, my father interviewed for a position at a research firm last year and he didn't get it because they had some hiring quota on Lowbloods, even though he was more qualified!"

He smirked as if he'd just won the argument. Petunia, Akeelah, and Mako gave him disgusted looks. His smirk faded.

"And… um, a few Purebloods were injured by rioters during the Squib Rights Marches five years ago. And they're always the first targets whenever there's a Goblin revolt."

"Did you seriously just compare being murdered for your blood status to not getting a job?" asked Mako.

"No! That's not what I meant at all! I was merely saying I understand where you're coming fr-"

Petunia cut him off. "You couldn't possibly understand what life is like for Muggle-borns, so don't even try."

Billiam went splotchy in the face. "The fact is that Purebloods suffer too! Maybe if you weren't so defensive I'd take what you have to say more seriously!"

"Are you stupid as well as blind!?"

"I'm not stupid! I'm a Ravenclaw!"

"Good luck proving that one!" shouted Petunia.

She hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and stomped through the open castle doors. She had homework to do, and she was not going to waste any of her precious time talking to an idiot. She heard McTufty sputtering behind her as she stomped her way to the library, and could not help a backwards glance.

"See? Do you see what she did?" Billiam turned to Mako. "She just insulted me! I never insulted her and yet I'm the one who's expected to-"

She didn't wait around to hear the end of his sentence. She turned and marched into an oncoming crowd of chattering Hufflepuffs and drowned him out. She could not stand listening to him spout that drivel anymore. Oh, it certainly wasn't the first time she'd heard something like that. When she was a first year, she was the victim of a long lecture on why Squibs and Muggle-borns didn't deserve special rights and why Purebloods were the real victims in the struggles between the classes. Then, she hadn't known how to respond with anything but a gaping expression, and she hadn't enough background in Magical society to agree or disagree. But she learned quickly enough that some Magical folk, whether they espoused equality or not, were not willing to take her as seriously as her Pureblooded fellows.

It was the little things, really, that bothered her the most. One of her classmates, a Pureblooded girl named Tanzy who loved to gossip, always made a special fuss over Petunia's work in Charms. She would make sure she had the attention of Flitwick, and then proclaim how amazing it was that Petunia was so talented, even though she was entirely new to magic. She still did this, even though her own work was well below Petunia's level. And Professor Slughorn was always so surprised when she did well in Potions. Granted, she was only mediocre at the subject, but his astonishment rankled her in a way that left her annoyed for the rest of the day.

Petunia overheard Severus telling Lily once that blood-status didn't matter. She knew even then that it had been a lie. But she could not bear to keep her sister from believing it.

She was nearly to the library when she ran into Anita and Circe outside the door of the girls' restroom. They were whispering to one another and glancing around as if looking for someone. When they spotted Petunia, Anita smiled like a jack-o-lantern.

"Petunia!" chirped Circe. "There you are! We've been looking for you for ages!"

Petunia couldn't help a slight frown. "You know I have double Herbology Thursdays."

Circe giggled. "I know, but we were dying to find you. Weren't we, Anita?"

Anita nodded. Her curls bobbed smoothly around her face. "Oh, yes. We've got news. We wanted you to hear it from us first, before it spreads around the school. You know how these things are."

Petunia's eyes widened. Spread around? It had to be bad news. Was it Lily? Had something happened to her parents? Was she about to be expelled? Had someone started a rumor about her?

"What? What is it?"

Anita and Circe looked at each other and started laughing. Whatever it was, it was apparently too hilarious for them to contain themselves. Petunia resisted the urge to hex them for it. She was growing more anxious by the second. If she'd been in a better mood, she'd have simply begged them to stop teasing her. As it was, she did not have the patience.

"Stop that," she said. "What happened?"

They continued giggling for a few more seconds. It was Anita who finally told her. Circe was too busy wiping tears from her eyes.

"Your sister and Severus Snape got invited to Slug Club right in front of Poinsettia!"

They started laughing again. Petunia had to touch the wall to stop herself from falling over.

"Oh, Merlin," she whispered.

"He didn't even look at her," said Anita. "She just stood there talking about her Aunt to poor Padriac while Slughorn went on and on about how your sister and her friend were the best Potioneers he'd ever seen. Then she tried to compliment him on his bowtie and he called her… he called her…"

Anita broke down into fits of laughter again. Circe was glad to pick up the slack.

"He called her Pepper!"

"Oh no, no, no," Petunia groaned. She buried her face in her hands. "This is awful. This is so, so awful."

Circe nodded, though her continual giggles didn't make her appear entirely sympathetic to Petunia's plight. Petunia looked up from her hands and glared.

"It's not funny," she said. "If she knew you were laughing at her like this she'd be livid."

"She's already livid," said Anita with a wave of her hand. She smiled at Petunia, all traces of laughter gone from her eyes. "And not at us."

Petunia went pale. "But I didn't do anything."

"Blood will tell," said Anita.

Petunia took a step backward. Though Anita was still smiling, there was nothing comforting in her face. She looked as if she'd been carved out of bloodstone. Petunia looked to Circe instead, hoping to find something there she could cling to. Circe frowned, opened her mouth, and then closed it. She shook her head.

"I've never seen her angry. Best stay out of the way for a while. We'll make excuses for you at dinner."

Petunia nodded. "Thank you."

"Go on, then. Get to the library before she sees you."

"Thank you so much," Petunia said, and walked as fast as she could towards the library doors.

"Be sure and congratulate your sister for me!" Anita called.

Petunia didn't answer. She ran now, Anita's avian laugh echoing in the corridor behind her.

The holiday break had never been so welcome in coming. Avoiding Poinsettia was more difficult than Petunia thought it would be. She was always in her usual place in the Great Hall at dinners, as bubbly and grand as ever. She also abruptly decided to take up residence in the Ravenclaw common room every night, so Petunia always had to pass her and Anita and Circe when she came back from class in the evenings. They would exchange pleasantries, and Poinsettia would lament the fact that Petunia was always tied up in homework during their dinners these days, but she did not invite Petunia to sit with her by the fire, and took to smiling at Petunia pointedly until she made her excuses for the evening. It was only a week, but it was a week that Petunia hoped never to repeat.

On the Hogwarts Express, Petunia found herself with no one to share a compartment with. Poinsettia did not invite her to the seventh year car as usual and everyone she tried to join said theirs was full, though only Mako and Akeelah seemed to be sorry for it. She was sure that this was somehow related to the slight Lily had unintentionally done to Poinsettia.

It wasn't fair, she thought, as she trudged into the third-year car to try her luck with the underclassmen. She was always being compared to Lily. It wasn't her fault her sister was some kind of Potions genius. Merlin knew that she wished for that skill every time she burned a Wit-Sharpening Potion or switched horned slugs with pickled slugs.

Perhaps that was why Slughorn had never noticed her, thought Petunia. It didn't matter that she was the best in her class at Charms, or knew more about the Professors and students of Hogwarts than even Argus Filch. She wasn't good at the right thing.

Lucky for Lily that she shone where it counted. Unlucky for Petunia that the she didn't.

The wheel on her pink roller bag caught in the carpet under her feet. Petunia let out a long-suffering sigh and bent to unstick it. As she was did this, a group of excited first years pushed past her, knocking her into the nearest compartment.

She stumbled inelegantly through the half-open door, hitting it with her hip. It slammed open.

"Don't run in the corridors!" she shouted after the first years. "It's against the rules! I ought to report you to your prefect!"

The first years looked at one another with mingled expressions of amusement and horror and took off running faster than before. Their voices as they shouted to each other mingled with the rattle of the train like squeaking brakes.

Petunia huffed and smoothed down her robes. Children.

"I'm sorry," she said. She turned to face whoever it was she'd burst in on. "I- oh. It's you."

It was Severus. Petunia hadn't seen him since the summer, before her trip to the Lake Country, and after… no. She wasn't going to think about that. He was not alone. His companion, a skinny, dark-haired boy that Petunia recognized as Regulus Black, covered his mouth and laughed. He was small and lithe, and he had his brother's gray eyes. She didn't see what was so funny.

Severus nodded at her. "Evans."

She pressed her lips together. "I'm not here on purpose," she said.

Severus raised one eyebrow. "Your method of entrance didn't suggest otherwise."

Regulus laughed again. Petunia folded her arms across her chest and glowered at him.

"Believe me, I don't intend to stay."

"No, please, do," insisted Regulus, leaping to his feet. Severus and Petunia both regarded him with some alarm. "Surely all the compartments are full by now. Don't waste your time begging for a seat. Come, sit with us. We've got room to spare."

Petunia and Severus looked at each other, then spoke at the same time.

"I don't think-"

"It isn't necessary for you-"

"Nonsense!" he said, snapping the door shut behind her. He took her luggage, which he hoisted into the racks above their heads. "There! A house elf couldn't have done it better. Sit!"

He sprawled into the empty seat the spot next to Severus. Petunia balked.

"No, really, I'll just find-"

"Too late! I've already taken your bags. You've got no choice unless you want to besmirch the honor of my entire house. We're very ancient and noble, you know. Or so my mother keeps reminding me."

"You're a twit," said Snape.

Regulus laughed. Petunia was surprised at this. If Severus had called her a twit in that tone, she'd have probably hexed him.

"And you're a sour old bat who doesn't know how to have fun. But don't let's argue. We're neglecting our guest. Please, Ms. Evans. Sit down."

He gestured to the seat beside Severus again. For a moment, Petunia seriously considered running. He probably wouldn't curse her. He was foppish and annoying and at least two years younger than her, but he didn't seem easily insulted. If he was friends with Severus, she doubted anything could insult him.

But she was very tired of walking around the train. And as mixed up as her feelings were about Severus, she at least wouldn't be alone with him. She doubted she'd even have to talk to him.

"All right. I will," she pronounced. "Thank you for your hospitality."

Petunia swept over to the seat next to Severus in a flutter of robes. They glared at one another for a moment, and then broke off to look out the window and at the wall, respectively. Across from them, Regulus grinned.

"This is excellent. This is really excellent. Chocolate frog?"

He proffered a package at her. She took it from him and began tugging at the wrapper. He offered one to Severus, but he declined. Her fingers slipped and tore through the foil faster than she'd intended. Her frog flew onto the table. With a thick croak, it hopped toward the door. Regulus reached out and caught it in midair.

"Stay sharp!" he said, tossing it back to her. She caught it in her lap. "You've got to have fast reflexes for these things. Is this the first time you've had one?"

Petunia shook her head. "Lily bought some off the refreshment cart her first year." She broke a piece off into her mouth. The frog went rigid, the charm that powered it deactivated with her first bite. "The first one she opened got away from her and jumped down the front of Tanzy Tully's robe."

Beside her, Severus made a quiet noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. She turned to him. When he saw her looking at him, the smile on his face disappeared.

"Did Lily tell you about it?"

Severus gave the barest hint of a shrug. "She told me Tully went hysterical and stripped naked trying to get it off her."

Regulus missed his next bite of frog. "Naked? Are you joking?"

"Have you ever known me to?"

Regulus laughed so hard at this that Petunia couldn't help but smile as well. She felt the tension in her lower back ease a little. This wasn't so bad.

"If she'd just held still I'd have used a freezing charm on the thing and been done with it. Tanzy's never been keen on Lily since."

Severus frowned at that. "Stupid reason to dislike someone."

"I don't know," said Regulus. He put one hand in his pocket and looked out the window. "Seems people don't need much of a reason to hold a grudge. They get mad and they decide they hate someone and don't even remember why after a while. They just hate. It's not sensible. It is what it is."

Petunia drew back a little into her seat. That sounded like something Dumbledore would say, not Regulus Black, favored youngest child of the haughty and insular Black family. She looked at Severus, who apparently agreed with her. His mouth was slightly open.

"Have you been reading novels again?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

Regulus turned from the window and grinned that toothy grin of his. "Does it show?"

Severus relaxed. "You couldn't hide it if you tried."

The boys began insulting each other again. Petunia was happy to let them do it. The more they ignored her, the better. She folded her empty chocolate frog foil into a square, making sure to set the card aside before she did it. Someone would want it before long, judging from the stack of them next to Regulus. She pulled her wand out of her pocket.

"Pergamenum decoco," she muttered, running the tip of it around the edges of the square.

The wrapper rippled, then fused together at the edges. She smiled. There. That was far neater than a ripped and mangled package. Crumpled things were among Petunia's least favorite sights. It made her a bit nauseous to see them sometimes.

"Where'd you get that, anyway?" she heard Regulus ask.

She looked up. He was waiting for her to answer. She glanced down to the foil, then back to him.

"I didn't get it anywhere. I used a spell I've been working on with-"

"No, no," said Regulus. "Not that. I watched you do that; well done. Where'd you get that? Your wand."

She frowned and held it up. "I… got it at Ollivander's when I was 11. Didn't you?"

"Of course I did," he scoffed. "I'm a Pureblood."

Petunia drew her lips together and narrowed her eyes at him. "What, exactly, do you mean by that?"

The grin on Regulus's face wavered. His eyes went from Petunia to Severus, and then back to Petunia.

"Well, you're Muggle-born, aren't you?" He tilted his head towards her. "Your parents wouldn't have known how to get to Diagon Alley. Did you have to steal it from someone, or what?"

The question was so absurd that Petunia nearly forgot to be offended.

Nearly.

She sat bolt upright, fists balled. "I beg your pardon?"

Regulus shrank back into his seat. He held up both hands, palms outward, supplicating.

"Sorry! Sorry! Please don't be mad! That's just what my Mum's always told me! 'Be careful with your wand, Reg, or a Mu-'" He twitched as if stung. "'Or a Muggle-born will steal it and take your magic away!' I just thought… since you were here… and talking to me…"

"I didn't steal my magic!" shouted Petunia. The lights in their compartment flickered. "How could you say that!? How could you believe it!? I was born with it, same as you!"

Regulus's ears were bright red. "That's not what- I only meant- I've never met a Muggle-born before, and I thought-"

She put her hands on her hips. "Now you're just making excuses. That can't possibly be true. You've been at Hogwarts for two years. Surely you've met at least one."

Petunia hadn't thought it possible, but Regulus's ears got even redder. He looked at the wall and mumbled something that Petunia was sure she would not like.

"What? What did you say?"

Regulus looked pleadingly at Severus, who was watching the exchange with an amused smirk. He shook his head.

"Yes, what did you say?" he asked.

Regulus threw up his hands. "She told me I couldn't talk to Muggle-borns, okay!"

Petunia felt her mouth fall open. "And you haven't? Not even once? Not even in your own house?"

Regulus gave Severus another desperate look. This time, Severus shifted in his seat, as if something were digging into his back. Regulus looked at him again. He sighed.

"If I must." He looked up at Petunia his arms still folded over his middle. He looked the very picture of a bored academic. If Petunia weren't waiting for him to explain, she'd have told him he looked ridiculous. "There aren't any Muggle-borns in Slytherin. It's part of the enchantment on the Sorting Hat. Surely the hat said something about it when you were sorted. It certainly didn't neglect to mention it when I was."

She remembered the trip across the lake, the nervousness and excitement as she and the other first years discussed what was going to happen, Tanzy's utter panic that she would be thrown out as unsortable, and the thrill that washed over her when the Sorting Hat began its song. Even then she'd thought Ravenclaw sounded like the best house. She could still remember the words as clear as if she were there: Ravenclaw, a wise young witch, sought students with sure minds, intelligence, ability, and interest defined.

She recalled Slytherin's rhyme as well.

"Slytherin, a pureblood man, took those of wit like him," she recited. "Ambitious ones and clever ones born into Wizard's kin." She put one hand on the wall for support. "I thought that was a metaphor!"

"Unfortunately not, it would seem."

She glowered at him. "You're not exactly a Pureblood. If you can get in with your parentage surely there are others-"

Severus sprang up. She did the same. "How dare you bring up my-"

"Please!" said Regulus, standing as well. "Please stop, I never meant to-"

"-outdated Pureblood nonsense, you'd have all died out-"

"-attacked us time and again! We had to-"

"-some questions, I wanted to know, that's all, I shouldn't have-"

"-wanted Lily in your house, you told her-"

"-private! You had no right to listen in on-"

There was a loud bang. All three of them stopped cold. Lily stood in the doorway. A spiral of smoke wafted from the tip of her wand.

"I came to visit," she said.

Petunia felt as if she'd swallowed a flobberworm. From the looks of things, Regulus and Severus were experiencing similar sensations.

Lily pocketed her wand and slipped inside the compartment, closing the door behind her. "How'd you end up here, 'Tuney? I was looking for you."

"Some first years pushed me in," she said, quickly. "I never meant to stay, only Black made me."

Regulus nodded. He half-smiled at Petunia, but she ignored him.

Lily blinked. "I don't care that you're here. I'm surprised, that's all." She looked at Severus. "You still going with him for the holiday, then?"

Severus nodded. "I couldn't consider refusing the invitation."

Lily heaved a great sigh. "All right. You know I'll miss you. I was really hoping you'd come over for Christmas dinner this year."

He fidgeted a bit with his hands. "I wouldn't have missed it if I could. I'm sorry. Please give your parents my regards."

Of all the mad things in her life, Petunia never thought she'd hear Severus Snape say he was sorry about anything. But, she supposed, if he were going to apologize to anyone, it would be Lily.

"I'll give them your love, you stuffy coot." She nodded in Regulus's direction. "Take care of him for me, okay?"

Regulus nodded gravely. "Rest assured, we throw an excellent feast at Grimmauld Place. Kreacher makes excellent pudding," said Regulus. He stepped up to Lily and stuck out his hand. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Regulus. I hear you've been invited to the Slug Club."

Lily looked at his hand as if she were trying not to smile. Regulus just looked so serious. She shook his proffered hand.

A tiny clattering went off in Petunia's head. She turned to Severus. "Wait. Wait. You're spending the holiday with him? But isn't Sirius going to be there? You hate Sirius."

"The feeling is entirely mutual, I'm sure."

Regulus rubbed the back of his neck, ruffling the hair there until it stood on end. "Ah... Sirius is going to be at Potter's, actually. Told my Mum a few days ago. Remember that howler yesterday? At dinner?"

Petunia hadn't been in the Great Hall then, but she'd heard from Tanzy that it was from Mrs. Black, and that it contained all the usual accusations of ungratefulness and insolence. She hadn't given it any thought after that. Sirius Black was always getting howlers. She made a mental note not to ignore any of them in the future.

"Yes," she said. "I'd forgotten."

He gave a boneless shrug. "We'll miss him at home but I think it's for the best. Mum's looking forward to meeting Severus. She thinks we might be third cousins."

"Oh."

The clattering of the train as it rambled on towards London filled the car. Regulus looked at the floor. Severus stared at Lily, his mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Petunia held her arm by the elbow. Lily scratched her chin.

"So," she said. "What were all of you fussing about?"

"Doesn't matter," said Regulus. "I said something stupid."

Lily laughed. "Severus tells me you do that a lot. I hope Tuney wasn't too hard on you."

He cleared his throat and glanced at Petunia. "No."

There was a squeeze at the base of Petunia's tongue. She realized she still had her wand out. She tucked it into the inner pocket of her robe.

"Lily," she found herself saying. "Would it be all right if I joined you and your friends for lunch?"

"Really?" Lily smiled, her eyes alight. "Of course you can! You know you're always welcome. Do you mind, Sev? Regulus?"

Severus made a non-committal noise. Regulus shook his head.

"That's okay. We just met anyway. We can finish getting to know each other some other time."

Severus covered his mouth with his hand and looked pointedly at the floor. Petunia shot Regulus a cold look.

"If circumstances permit it," she said. "Come on, Lily. We'll need to hurry to beat the lunch trolley."

"Okay. See you, Sev!" She waved to him. "And Regulus, nice meeting you!"

Petunia wrestled her bag free of the luggage rack and followed Lily out of the cabin and into the corridor. They made it one car down before Lily asked her about the fight she'd interrupted.

"So what were you really arguing about?"

"Black thinks Muggle-borns steal their wands from Purebloods."

Lily winced. "Ugh. That one's the worst."

Petunia jerked her head in surprise. "You've heard it before."

"Back at the end of first year I started I asked Sev to tell me all the awful things Purebloods think about Muggle-borns. He didn't want to at first, but I bothered him about it until he had to. Some of them were just... they were sick," She threw open the door to the next traincar with unusual force. "I'm surprised, though. Regulus doesn't seem like one of those Slytherins. Sev always told me he was really nice. Though he didn't say it like that."

Petunia pushed a puff of air through nose. "What did he say, then?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "He said Reg was a softhearted twit."

Petunia sighed. "Is there anything he does that isn't insulting?"

Lily laughed. "He is a bit prickly, isn't he?"

"Severus is 'a bit prickly'? How would you describe a fire crab? 'Somewhat warm'?"

Lily gave Petunia a light punch in the arm for that.

They were outside Lily's compartment now. She could hear Lily's friends alternately chattering and laughing with one another. The laughter was robust and riotous, such as one would hear when sharing a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks. It didn't sound a thing like the giggles she shared with her friends.

"Hey," said Lily, placing her hand on Petunia's upper arm. "Are you okay?"

Petunia covered her sister's hand with hers. "I'm fine. We can talk about it later. Okay?"

"Okay. Ready to go in?"

Petunia drew herself up. Her posture was perfect. Her hair was in place. Her robes were smooth.

"Ready," she said, and she and Lily walked into the compartment together.