Remus

The Hog's Head was empty on this evening. Only a few familiar faces (faces of people that could be found there every night, regardless of whether it was a busy night, a weekday or a weekend, or a holiday) nodded in his direction when he entered the room. Remus sat down in the same dark corner he always sat in, alone, and stared into the whiskey in front of him as if expecting any responses to the questions running around in his head in an endless loop.

"Do you mind?" Remus immediately recognized the voice. He and Aberforth had worked in the Order of the Phoenix for several years, but they hadn't spoken much since it was dissolved. Remus pulled the glass of whiskey closer to himself, gesturing with the other hand toward the now-empty half of the table.

"Suit yourself, but don't you have a bar to tend?" he asked.

Aberforth scoffed. "You know the lot. They will just get whatever they want from behind the bar. They know where it is anyway."

Remus lifted his eyebrows. He knew Aberforth had a loose way of running the Inn (something he was happy about, mainly when he was tight on money), but leaving the entire bar open to everybody seemed a bit much, even for him.

"Anything, in particular, you wanted to talk about?" Remus ran his fingers over the rim of the glass, carefully feeling its smooth ridge under his fingertip.

"Well - direct and to the point," Aberforth mumbled. "Nothing in particular. I recently thought about how much time we spent together just a few months ago, and now it's all simply gone. As if it never happened. As if we all just woke up from a fever dream."

"More like waking up from a nightmare only to discover you're living in hell." Spoken aloud, the words sounded harsher than Remus had intended. "Sorry, Aberforth. It's not your fault."

"Remus, I - we're all grieving them. I can't imagine how hard it must be for you. I can't imagine how hard it must be for Harry. Sometimes, I lie awake at night and wonder where the boy is now and whether he is alright."

Remus twitched. He knew where Harry was, how Harry was doing, and how Petunia took care of him. He knew all those things but felt he shouldn't know them, as if he possessed some forbidden knowledge in the wizarding world and would lose access to it by disclosing it. Would something terrible happen if he was to share this knowledge with someone else? Remus didn't know, but he knew he needed someone to talk to. He had been isolated for too long, with Petunia being his only contact with civilization for several weeks.

"Promise not to tell anyone, especially not your brother," Remus whispered and nodded in the direction where Hogwarts sat atop the hills.

Aberforth gestured in front of his lips as if locking a door, then threw the imaginary keys away.

"I've been visiting Harry's current caregivers regularly for a few weeks."

The expression on the older man's face froze. Then, hunching over the table, he whispered, "You mean the muggles? What are they like?"

"Well," Remus began, "I don't know his uncle personally, but from what I've heard, he must be a total nightmare. He doesn't want Harry to grow up as a wizard - absolute nonsense if you ask me! Denying a child like him access to magic - that's torture!"

Remus, noticing Aberforth's firm grip around his wrist, realized how much information he had just spat out.

"It's alright, Remus. It's nothing you could have changed", Aberforth said and fixated on him with his bright blue eyes. "... and his aunt? She must be," he scratched his forehead, "Lily's sister, no?"

"Petunia," Remus nodded. "She is as lovely as anyone taking care of two young boys alone and living with that ordeal of a husband could be."

Aberforth didn't respond. Remus lifted his gaze and looked at Aberforth, finding the man smirking back at him.

"Petunia, so, so ..." He grinned smugly.

"Aberforth, no," Remus said firmly. "I'm just trying to make sure she is alright. She lost her sister, after all."

"Since when have you been seeing her?"

"I'm not seeing her, per se. I'm not seeing anyone. I'm helping her take care of Harry."

Aberforth raised an eyebrow.

"But if you must know, since the beginning of April."

"And you're sure there's nothing more to these visits?"

Remus thought about how these visits had dragged him out of his despair and how his visits to the Dursley's house had provided him with something to do and look forward to in his monotonous day-to-day life. He thought about the discussions he had with Petunia about the wizarding world, about how he explained to her what had happened to her sister. He thought about how she told him stories from their childhood, from Lily discovering her magical abilities and Petunia trying the same and failing each and every time. He thought about how improbable their friendship was and its defiant existence. Spending time with her was a reprieve from the darkness that had consumed him for so long.

"Absolutely sure. I have a duty to Lily and James and, through them, also to Harry. I won't let either of them down."

"That is very noble of you, Remus. I'm sure they would appreciate-"

A loud clanging noise could be heard from the direction of the bar, and both men turned their heads simultaneously. A woman with unkempt hair and shaggy clothes had cleared an entire bottle shelf while trying to fish for her favorite brand.

"If you excuse me," Aberforth mumbled and shuffled his body out of the booth. "Nice talking to you, Remus."

Petunia

"So, what's new for you?"

Estelle, a school friend of Petunia who was in town for her sister's wedding, sat across from her at a table in a café. It was a gloomy Sunday morning, but the clouds began to usher away, and it appeared to become a beautiful day. As Estelle asked her question, she leaned over the table, her voluptuous chest resting on the floral-patterned tablecloth and her blond curly hair getting dangerously close to her tea.

"Oh, nothing, really," Petunia sighed. "You know, it's been stressful ever since -"

Estelle reached out her hand and touched her wrist. "I know, honey. You don't have to tell me."

Petunia looked at her, only to find that Estelle was looking right back at herself with her eyes full of sorrow. She wanted to pull her hand away, but Estelle held her wrist with a gentle but firm grip, grazing her lower arms.

"Are you sure that nothing is going on in your life?" Estelle then asked, slightly gripping her wrist tighter.

"What do you mean?"

"If you're trying to hide it, you're not very good at it." Estelle suddenly let go of Petunia's hands and took a sip from her tea, a victorious grin on her face.

"Hide what?" Petunia asked, confused.

Estelle leaned in even closer. "The affair, dummy."

Petunia yanked her hand away from her friend, immediately holding the spot where Estelle's hand had been like the touch of her friend had left her skin open, raw.

"How could you accuse me of such a thing?" she said, and then, realizing how loud she was, she added more quietly, "I do not have an affair."

"Darling, I saw you with a man who was very obviously not Vernon. You were all excited and giggly when he waited on your front porch. He looks quite the snack if you ask me - though a bit young maybe, isn't he?"

"That's just -" Petunia started her defense, then paused for a second. What was she going to say? He's just a friend that my now-dead sister met at her school for witches and wizards; because, yes, my sister was a witch. He's the only one who can help me with her son, and I actually enjoy our weekly meetings and the conversations that arise from them. That was entirely true, but it didn't sound like the truth - it felt made up and too over-the-top. A story like this didn't belong in this town's humdrum; frankly, Petunia wasn't even sure whether it belonged to someone like her.

"He is just a friend. He went to boarding school with Lily."

Petunia pinched the back of her hand to avoid laughing out loud while lying. Calling Hogwarts a boarding school, how bizarre.

"And since when do you care to spend time with friends of Lily's? I thought all the people from this boarding school were oh-so terribly pretentious and impossible to talk to."

"Oh, well, it seems not everyone from this school is like that, and I can actually be wrong about something." Petunia tried her best to put a smile on her lips.

"How long have you two been meeting? Does Vernon know?"

Petunia stared at the clock in the café, half hoping that she would be able to recall for how long their meetings had been going on, half praying that with a desperate enough stare, she would be able to make the clock go faster, shortening the amount of time she had to sit here with Estelle. She tried to count the different appearances that Remus had made on her front porch, the things they were doing during each visit. On the one hand, she felt like she barely knew him - she didn't know anything about his profession, nothing about his personal life or what he was doing the rest of the time when he wasn't sitting on the floor of Harry's bedroom or the chair in her kitchen. On the other hand, it was now late May, and they had been meeting regularly for almost 2 months. He was a regular part of her weekly routine. She looked forward to his visits each week. She would deeply miss them if they no longer happened.

She sighed, painfully aware of the fact that she had been silent for quite a while. "Just for a few times. Vernon does not know, and I do not intend to tell him. It's not his business."

"How many times is a few?"

Petunia stared into her teacup, avoiding Estelle's gaze.

"Since the beginning of April."

"And you don't think your dear husband should know about this two-month-long affair?"

Petunia scoffed as she put her teacup down on the table with a loud thump.

"I told you," she said and enunciated every single syllable precisely, "there is nothing. We are just friends."

Estelle chuckled.

"Petunia Evans - you have never been in contact with a man for this long and have just been friends. I simply don't believe you to start with such behavior now."

It didn't pass her by that Estelle had used her maiden name to address her. She knew what Estelle thought of Vernon, of course (which was, to put it lightly, not much). None of her friends had taken a particular liking in Vernon, said they weren't sure whether he was a good fit for her, some even proclaiming she was settling way below what she could have.

"Well, if you need to know so desperately - what would you do if you were forced to take care of not only your own child but also that of your sister, had no clue how to handle the situation with your husband being gone most nights of the week and absolutely not helpful when he is there, and then suddenly this man asks whether he could offer you any help?"

Estelle raised her right eyebrow. "He takes care of ... what was his name again? Billy?"

"Harry," Petunia said quietly, adding, "yes, he helps."

"And Vernon?"

Petunia sneered. "What do you think?"

Estelle looked at Petunia for a few seconds, then she inhaled deeply. "Don't make me say it, Petunia." After a few moments, she continued with a deep furrow in between her eyebrows. "Look, I just want you to be happy, and personally, I don't think you can be with Vernon. And that's everything I will say on that matter."