Emma had been using her mother's maiden name since she was fifteen years old. Emma Franchi has been, since her third year at Hogwarts, a different person.
No one knew her as Emily Pettigrew anymore, or as a matter of fact, no one apart from Pia and their eccentric estranged sister, Portia, wherever she was now.
It was true that when Peter–the only son of the Pettigrew children–suddenly disappeared out of thin air in late October of 1981, only to be announced legally deceased a few days later, vanished by his own friend and the notorious Sirius Black, the fate of the Pettigrew family changed forever.
Emma was the youngest of the Pettigrew children. Their father, Alf 'Alfie' Pettigrew, a notary for the department of Magical Transportation at the Ministry of Magic, loyal Hufflepuff of the class of 1950, and a docile loving family man. Her mother was Penelope Franchi, a part-Italian, half-blood witch, the daughter of a parchment merchant. The Pettigrew family was a close-knit, quiet, and relatively unimportant lower middle-class magical family, living in suburban London with their four children: Pia, the oldest daughter, Portia, the second child, Peter, the long-awaited son, and Emily, the 'beautiful accident,' as Alfie Pettigrew used to call his youngest child.
Emily always felt different. She was the youngest daughter, the result of an unexpected pregnancy that almost killed her mother who struggled to bring her into the world. She was named Emily as a tribute to the Muggle-born Healer who birthed her and saved her mother's life by performing a strange procedure Muggles called a Caesarean section since Penelope Pettigrew struggled to give birth to the breech infant. But being the youngest in line was not her only marker of difference. She carried a mundane Mugge name, Emily, that lacked any rhyming, affinity, or ties to the rest of the Pettigrew children.
Emma was also visibly different, as she took after her mother and she was the only child who resembled Penelope. Her mother, in her youth, was a willowy woman, a pretty thing with blue eyes and light brown hair. Emma had her cheekbones and grace and was different from her siblings who looked after their father, with his bright blonde-reddish hair, short stature and large protruding eyes and large front teeth. Peter and Pia had inherited their father's looks, while Portia, although similar in features with their older siblings, had a kinder expression, softer eyes, and plumber frame, which made her more docile.
Emma was also often the source of a sly but noticeable sibling rivalry, despite her siblings being considerably older when she came into the world. This was mainly due to the fact that Emily was the reason Penelope Pettigrew decided to be a stay-home mother, since Emily arrived when her parents did not expect more children, and her mother, who had worked as a small shop-keeper to make ends meet all these years, decided to go on early retirement when Emily was born, to spend more time with the young child and to recover from a lung condition that was ailing her and only became exacerbated when Emma was born. Emma's siblings were already in the middle of their Hogwarts education when she was born, so she always felt that she grew up as an only child, doted on by her parents, who saw her as a renewed chance in parenthood, an opportunity to be more attuned and attentive parents. Not that the Pettigrews showed preferential treatment to any of their children; on the contrary, they were fair parents and tried their best, but due to the family's many members and their growing expenses, their father had always taken up more work, while their mother had a small, mainly home-based business and focused on rearing the children of the family.
Pia, the oldest daughter, was already thirteen when Emma was born, and was finishing her third year at Hogwarts, sorted into Ravenclaw House. The assertive sibling, Pia always liked to be given important roles in the Pettigrew household. She idolised their father, while she had a strange, often strained relationship with their mother, whom she often almost replaced in the household and in their father's social life, often accompanying Alf Pettigrew in Ministry events, wearing her best dresses and often speaking eloquently with various Ministry people. Bright, curious, and sometimes harsh and unrelenting, Pia aligned herself with the men of the family, showing an affinity and admiration for their father, and a fierce protectiveness over Peter, Petey, while she never got along with their middle sister, Portia, a kind-hearted but meek girl, who was easy to mould and boss around, as Pia often did.
Portia was in her first year of Hogwarts when Emily was born and was sorted in Hufflepuff, like their father. But unlike their father, Portia did not have any academic inclinations, she lacked structure or confidence, and she ended up eloping with her Hogwarts boyfriend, Dundee Marcus, when she reached year seven. Dundee, after five years of marriage, abandoned Portia and the family later found out that he left the country with a mutual friend, who had become his lover. Portia was devastated.
Their sister, however, never sought a formal dissolution of the marriage. She had no children, no home, and no husband, but she never seemed to be completely able to get over the fact of what happened and she ended up waiting for Steinfred, years after he left, eventually showing signs of distress and panic and had to be admitted at St. Mungos for six months. Pia had arranged everything because their parents were unable to deal with the situation. It was an embarrassment for their father, as many Ministry officials had made a joke out the elopement of Alf's underage daughter, while this was a great blow for Penelope, who tried to be there for her daughter, but eventually experienced intense fits of melancholy due to the family's strained relations because of this event.
Portia was never the same afterwards. Since then, she barely has seen anyone from the family, and leaves alone in her little flat, perhaps still waiting for her wayward husband to return. Emma has seen her a few times over the years, as she prefers to live isolated in what she calls 'pace and quiet time,' and tends some magical creatures in her garden although she is doing limited magic, from what Emma has learned from Pia. Since Emma was only a small child when Portia gradually stopped speaking with the family, Emma never quite knew how to enter into a sisterly relationship with the older woman, and sometimes this still bothered her, although she always had Pia.
This was the first tragedy of the Pettigrew family.
Emma remembered the events very vaguely as she was only a child, but the one thing she remembered clearly has an interesting dynamic between Penelope Pettigrew crying about Portia and Pia Pettigrew berating their mother, as if she expected that it would be easy or even preferable if the whole family just forget about Portia. Pia definitely seemed to have forgotten about her, as even today, her nose wrinkles in disgust when her first youngest sister gets mentioned, usually through Emma's questioning.
Peter was their only brother and was only around eight years older than Emma, so Emma's memories of Peter were always more domestic, as she had memories of him pinching her chubby arms or taking her biscuits and then pretending to be innocent, to hide his jealousy of his baby sister to Penelope Pettigrew. Their mother always knew, however, but instead of disparaging or punishing Peter, she always comforted the skittish little boy, inviting him to sit on her lap or reading him and Emma a story together.
Emma's childhood memories of Peter were fond, as they were the youngest, and they always seemed to be more removed from the anguish, drama, and often volatile behaviours of the older Pettigrew children. Peter was a nervous, scared, and skittish boy with no friends and struggled to fit in the image of the typical magical boy of his age. He was short and small for his age, and had developed a stammer because of his teeth structure, which his father desperately tried to fix with intricate spell-work but he always ended up traumatising the poor boy, who run away from Alf Pettigrew which got Peter some smacks with the wand. Alf was not typically violent but he had a temper when he experienced stress, and he did not have an easy life, which was etched all over his receding hairline from the age of thirty and his progressive slumping of the shoulders and diminishing height, and increasing weight. His relationship with his wife, Penelope, was often impacted by either his own jealousy over his wife's good looks, and his exasperation over her growing despondency because of the loss of their daughter, her growing melancholy, and strained relations with Pia, and eventually with Alf himself.
Peter was also often the subject of Emma's parents' argument as Alf wanted to make Peter a more appropriate image of what he wished a son to be. Peter was in introverted child; he never got on with any neighbourhood children, magical or Muggle, since the Pettigrew family was not prejudiced, but he instead had this anxious loneliness about him, a sense of following his sister Pia or their father around and being always looking with a mesmerised look in whatever they were doing or saying.
It was strange. Although Peter was soft and kind, he always revelled in the image of what was expected of him, as the only boy and only son of the family, who would carry their family name into the future. To Emma, however, he was always Petey, her older brother, who would burst into tears well into his early pre-teen and later years when he was confronted with something he did not know or something that made him anxious or scared. Sometimes Emma would share a laugh about it, because as a braver toddler, she also revelled in the subtle sibling antagonism that exists in all families.
When Peter went to Hogwarts, however, Emma was left alone, and had no one left at home, except for their ailing mother, who experienced frequent bouts of melancholy, which the father Pettigrew called 'moods.'
Soon, however, Peter like Pia, and like Portia, would grow more distant in terms of the Pettigrew domestic life. Emma was only three years old when Peter left for Hogwarts, but she remembered that the transition for him was hard, as his initial letters conveyed and he was begging their parents to allow him to come back home. Luckily, Pia, who was the older and was in her sixth year when Peter entered Hogwarts was there to keep him in line, following strict orders from their father, and she was very glad to do so, since she always naturally assumed the position of mentor in the younger siblings' lives, something that plunged mother Pettigrew in deeper bouts of depression, especially after Portia had gone off with Steinfred.
After the first Christmas, however, Peter was more carefree, even happy at Hogwarts. He had managed, for the first time in his life, to make friends with other boys his age, and distance himself from the lives of his three, very different sisters, which seemed to make him extremely happy, while Pia was extremely spiteful and cross because she was losing influence.
Every Christmas and summer holidays, the Pettigrew family would hear of the adventures of this small group of Gryffindor boys, calling themselves The Marauders. It comprised three other boys, all different regarding personality , appearance, social, and family backgrounds:
Remus Lupin was the quiet studious type of boy. Alf Pettigrew knew Remus' father, Lyall, as he was also a former Ministry employee, who some decade back had suddenly quit his position and started working independently in a remote community in Wales, where his Muggle wife was from. No one heard much about the Lupins in the wizarding community, especially in Ministry circles. It seemed that the father Lupin was as mysterious and reserved as his young son, a gentle child who seemed to be keeping the other two boys in line; boys who were definitely not gentle, but rowdy and mischievous. They were troublemakers, really.
One of them was James Potter, the only son of an old pureblood family that was very progressive and very wealthy, as young Potter was the heir to the Sleekeazy Hair dynasty, a British potioneering aesthetic product company led by Fleamont and Ehphemia Potter, both elderly in comparison of their young son, who was clearly adored, even spoiled. The Pettigrew parents, especially Alf, were very proud that Peter–Petey-was friends with Potter, since the young boy had assumed a bit of a protective role over Peter, taking care of him, and writing to him frequently during their summers, but also helping him academically, since the three other boys were more academically gifted whereas Peter was always a bit lazy, to put it kindly. Even so, it made Emma still smile sadly and imagine who Peter could have been today had his life not been cut short by one of his friends, another gifted yet dark man who was once one of those boys.
Sirius Black. The man who had destroyed the Pettigrew family. Their greatest tragedy, which had seeped into Emma's life since childhood, with no way to deny or escape what was happening.
Emma still remembered the first time she ever saw Black.
Peter had his friends over for the first time on his birthday in July of 76', right after the end of the boys' sixth year. It was the first time that Peter had ever had his little friend group over, despite the multitude of dinner invitations by Penelope Pettigrew or fishing trip invitations by Alf Pettigrew. The fact that Peter never had his friends over had secretly upset their mother, who always thought that Peter felt bad about the family's meagre estate in comparison to the Potter and Black pureblood fortunes–Black's old money upbringing was particularly intimidating, apparently, as he was born in what would be considered magical British aristocracy, and although Black was not abiding by his strict traditional family values, he was actually actively trying to rebel and piss off his parents at any chance he got, his different social status was always awkward in the friendship between him and Peter, them and Peter.
So Peter kept Sirius and James away from their modest home. But the Lupin boy had visited a few times and would politely accept their mother's roast. That boy, he was different. There was something about him that always made him cautious, grateful for a good meal and an offering of hospitality, although he would always carefully dodge Alf's questions about his father, Lyall, and his affairs in Wales.
That summer day, on Peter's birthday, was a memorable moment where all these different friends of her brother were present, right at their home.
Emma still remembers the first time she ever saw Black. She was at the back yard helping her mother decorate the table with a magical banner that read HAPPY BIRTHDAY PETEY and she was around eight or nine years old when she first saw the boy, not quite a man yet but also not a teenager. He had a boyish look about him, but was taller than Peter and had a well-bred air about him he seemed desperate to hide.
He had entered the backyard cautiously, with an assessing look in his features which were strangely handsome; he had wavy dark hair that fell into his eyes slightly and a tall slender frame, but he was broad-chested and broad-shouldered in his plain white t-shirt and denim, looking almost Muggle-like with an attitude of coolness that could not hide, however, his roots. His mannerisms, body language, and even the way he closed the small kissing gate behind him spoke of his pureblood heritage no matter how much he tried to hide it, no matter how much he resented it. Peter had many times told their parents that Sirius–Black–hated his family, and his relationship with his mother was particularly volatile, as she was a rigid pureblood traditionalist, and she was virtually the head of the Black family.
He was exceptionally polite with Emma's parents and indifferent toward Pia, who also regarded him with suspicion, something she always did whenever their father seemed to pay attention to anyone else in the room, any person of interest. And Black was definitely a person of interest for Alf and Penelope.
Emma was entirely sure he never noticed her, looking haughty and curious in their backyard, assessing the place with a polite grin on his face. But then suddenly his gaze found her as she was hiding shyly behind her mother, and he was piercing her with his light eyes and he winked at her with a small crooked grin, while Potter hit him affectionately on his arm for being cheeky with the little girl. Emma remembered him clearly, even if in recent pictures he looked weathered and a bit huggard, a shadow of the handsome teenager. She would say that he was even now handsome in some way, he had something about him that was attractive–she would say so, things were different, if this man had not destroyed her family, their family, as Pia would never let her forget.
Black and Potter were both coming from wealthy pureblood families and you could tell from their mannerisms and speech. They were both a little conceited, but whereas James Potter was cheeky about it, Black was definitely arrogant, but in a way that was charming and hence now she understood why this bloke had many girls fawning over him, although, to Peter's astonishment, he did not seem to care, preferring the company of his mates to any girl, which made Peter jealous. Peter definitely did not seem to have the privilege of having many options like Black.
It was also very obvious that Black seemed to be closer to Potter than to Peter or Lupin. They were sort of the ring leaders of this little group, and definitely the more rowdy ones who caused trouble. Peter would follow along for the fun of it, but he did not seem that he would be the mastermind behind the pranks that earned the boys long detentions. Potter and Black though, they were first-class berks, arrogant, haughty, fun-seeking–the only difference being that poor Potter was also kind-hearted despite the pranks, and the end that found him, only years after this nice birthday celebration, was deeply tragic. A parallel loss, a parallel tragedy to the Pettigrews. Emma did not think of Potter often, but whenever she heard something about the famous Harry Potter, now a teenager himself, she felt her insides burning.
They never believed it. The Pettigrews could not. Sirius was the polite, high-bred boy that had visited that summer all those years ago, the charismatic Black whose presence in Peter's life was friendly and brother-like.
Emma remembered that day, as she was at Hogwarts, and had just started her third year. Pia had come from Glasgow, where she was working as a reporter for a local social newspaper, to pick her up and announce the news.
Petey's dead, chickie.
It felt like a scaling wound, like someone had poured hot bitterness on her and grief was bruning her entrails. Pia's wide protruding eyes–their father's eyes, Petey's eyes–were bloodshot but alert, looking hysterically at Emma when telling her the news.
That's all that Emma remembered before fainting that day. It would take many more days, many days of chaotic days of confusion, grief, anguish, shouting, to understand what had really happened.
Days after they delivered Petey's finger in a box for the Pettigrew family to bury and an Order of Merlin, Pia framed above the fireplace, her face empty of tears anymore.
To understand that her brother had not died at an Order mission was confusing; it was hard to register that he was killed by Black, one of his best friends, a man who years ago was laughing with her family in their backyard that July afternoon—that man had blasted a street full of Muggles, and had decimated Petey. The same man had betrayed his friends hours before, or months, or even a whole year.
How was it possible that this man, the man who had betrayed one of his friends, and killed the other one in cold blood, had been exonerated only a few months ago?
When Emma saw Sirius' face in the papers after his exoneration hearing, her mind filled with an unyielding wave of disbelief. It couldn't be true, it simply couldn't. This whole exoneration business was nothing more than a charade, a puppet show orchestrated by the Order and Sirius Black himself.
How could it have been possible that this mockery of a trial had lifted Black's sentence in June, after two years of him being a fugitive? How did the Wizengamot become convinced that it was, indeed, another of their friend group, Peter Pettigrew–Emma's own brother– who was secretly a Death Eater all this time, a follower of the Dark Lord and a spy who had not only betrayed his friends but had also framed another one for murder and treason?
He's innocent, they said. Peter Pettigrew was the real traitor, they claimed. But Emma refused to accept it. It was a twisted plot, a conspiracy to deceive the Wizengamot and tarnish her brother's memory. There was no way Peter would betray them all, abandon his family, and hide in the shadows for all these years–as an animagus, a rat, apparently. The testimonies of children and corrupt men weighed more than the truth, than her family's plight.
The more she stared at Sirius' face on the papers, different from the one she remembered, the more her stubborn disbelief grew. How could they expect her to believe that her brother, the one she had loved and cherished, had orchestrated his own disappearance? The very idea was ludicrous, a cruel joke played upon their shattered lives. That Peter would leave his family to believe him dead, that he had deceived them all. That everything she knew was a lie.
Pia and Emma did not even attend the trial. There was no point. They would never be convinced.
Peter had died that day on November 1st. He was not hiding in the form of a rat at a boy's home. Because if this were true, if there was an inkling of reality in Black's, Potter's and Dumbledore's words, that meant that their brother was alive.
And a Death Eater.
Emma woke up with a jolt that morning. It was a cold day, even for a summer morning and she felt groggy and her spine ached, as she stretched a bit over the empty space on the bed. She was stressed, agitated by the recent events but happy that Pia had finally left her apartment and had returned to Glasgow.
Now, all that was left was to wait for a signal, from the Phoenix.
Eulalia had told her that she should start noticing things–the presence of Order members, checking her apartment, following her to work. Seeing if she was a liability or if she was truly capable, worthy.
Emma knew what she had to do, and she did her work very well, so she went along with it. She pretended to not notice when strange cloaked figures would be waiting at the corner store near her area, often shifting between men and women, all unknown to her.
She had already met Kingsley after work at Eula's home. He was a tall bald man with a deep voice that would be otherwise enticing if he was not a high-ranked member of this wretched organisation. His mannerisms and speech were different from his sister's and Emma thought that because of his job as a leading Auror, he had to have a poker face, a neutral assessing expression. This was not the man to be had, to be fooled, so she expressed herself, her willingness to join, and her motivations as sincerely as possible. She did care, after all, about her job and about justice–just not in the way these people did, in their distorted and misguided way, in harbouring and aiding a fugitive, Black.
She was not intimidated by Kingsley; on the contrary, as a Healer she was very good at performing sharp and quick-witted diagnostics, assessing a situation, and producing fast-paced problem solving. She had met demanding, intimidating men before. This was not one of those men. But he was studying her, for that she was certain. He had this cryptic reading expression in his eyes, and he was very good at his job. Otherwise, how would it be possible that a well-known Auror led this double life ? Ministry employee during the day, Dumbledore's vigilante in the evening.
Their conversation over tea was long and she knew exactly what she had to say. She knew what to respond, and although the Auror remained stoic, neutral, unreadable, Emma was confident she had made a good impression.
Emma Franchi was a competent junior Healer, a mentee of Eulalia, who could vouch for her–she had been discreet in many mysterious cases, and had offered a helping hand to Kingsley's sister many times. When she looked at the room, she could tell that Kingsley was thinking about all those things as he scratched the faint stubble on his face, giving his sister a side glance and gulping the remaining drops of mint tea in his cup.
"So, Ley?" asked Eula slowly with a sly expression in her face, leaving her cup on the table. "You convinced yet, brother?" she asked more cheekily now.
Emma let a small laugh come out her mouth, also mimicking the older Healer and putting her cup down, looking expectantly at the Auror with her large blue heavy-lidded eyes.
"Well, I must say, you both are very convincing. You should have been politicians, not Healers" said the tall man in his deep toned voice. Eula laughed heartily and touched his arm reassuringly and Emma smiled, still waiting for him to address her, playing it safely. Coyly.
"So, depending how much work we will require, you will need to find a way to cover for the unexpected. Absences, quick trips to the Headquarters or other places, to tend on members. You will have to find a way to be discreet, to not leave any traces behind you at St. Mungos" said the Auror.
"I am ready," replied Emma. "I am certain we can find a way–that I can find a way to work around those issues at the hospital," she said, looking at Eulalia for reassurance, but none came. She wanted Emma to make an impression on her brother, to show independence and quick thinking. Ever the teacher, that Eulalia.
"All this is to say, I can and I will manage" the young woman finally said to the stoic Auror who was looking at her cautiously now.
"That's what we want to hear. Like my sister said, we need Healers, and we are pretty desperate, but you will belong in a specific category as an Order member. You will remain behind the scenes, not always in missions, but you will follow whoever is in command and offer your service to Dumbledore and the Order" he said finally. "We are at a very important point in the anti-Voldemort movement and the Order is hopeful that this war will be won this time. For good" said the Auror.
That name. It made Emma shiver, just like every magical person. She knew that this was a war, she remembered the signs and although she was very young the first time when her family was plunged into tragedy and despair, she knew what war ment this time. Did these people even know they had a spy in their ranks? That their exonerated hero was as corrupt as the Death Eaters they were after? Emma needed to know, she needed to meet him, to get to know him and understand what had happened to her brother.
Another implication, she thought, as Kingsley was speaking about the Order.
Dumbledore. Emma's features paused for a minute as she took in the name of her former headmaster. She sincerely hoped he did not remember Emily Pettigrew, the sister of poor Peter, who was killed by Black, the little girl who was removed from school in fourth year and was homeschooled by her sister after she had found her mother dead in the kitchen. After Peter.
Emma Franchi, the Healer, was a different woman, she was not that helpless girl anymore. No, he would probably not remember her, after all those years.
"Is anything wrong," asked Kingsley as Emma was visibly distracted.
"Ah, no, just taking in what you are explaining Auror Shacklebolt" she said quickly smiling and crossing her legs.
"Just Kingsley, Emma" he corrected softly. "Since we will be seeing you soon, we can go on a first name basis I think" he said to her playfully. Emma smiled again. Eulalia rolled her large eyes and smirked at Emma, rubbing her hips in an oddly comforting expression.
"So, should I be waiting for…um dunno, some initiation ceremony?" asked Emma hesitantly.
"Initiation?" asked Eula laughingly. " Girl, don't be silly, this is no Muggle cult"
"You should expect our members to be checking on you for the next few weeks. Its protocol for all new members. You know, we have had traitors in the past, right under our noses, and in the spring a house elf revealed our Headquarters to the other side…" he said stoically with bare emotion. Emma's eyes were wide.
Traitors? House elves? Where on earth was this Headquarters?
"Of course, you will not know immediately where Headquarters is now, but eventually if all goes well, you will come with a special invite. For now, expect that we will be spying on you, we might scare you a little, although ya' know, we ain't no creeps of course, but always look behind you or at the corner. All women should, really, if you ask me" he said with a soft chuckle.
"Oh shut it," said Eulalia and he smiled a little in his rumblings. Emma was stunned but kept nodding. She did not expect she would be followed and watched and this made her stress a bit—it was not a fun feeling.
"All right," said Kingsley as he got up for the door. Eula and Emma also repeated the gesture. Emma wrapped her arms around her in a comforting gesture, and Eulalia was noticing this, the anxiety.
"We will be in touch then, Emma," said Kingsley, taking his hat off as a sign of politeness. Emma extended a hand and the man quickly took it and gave her a Galleon. Seeing her confused, he chuckled a bit, and told her to leave it by the window and it will start shining when someone from the Order is near. She would know.
Leaving Emma stunned, the man smirked at his sister and apparated down the hallway.
Her mind was racing–but she knew that she had to do this, and things would get difficult, so she could not draw any suspicions.
This was only the beginning.