Petunia and the Little Monster

March 1975

Eugene was waiting for her in the room they had last parted, Petunia dusting the ash from her sleeves while memories drummed in her head. The taste of stale tea, the smudged dirt on her skin and the pain from her toe running up her leg until her temples pulsed in tune to her heart.

And the talk of war and betrayal lingering in the air.

The room looked largely unchanged, buckets of feed and plants cluttering the corners and shelves, naked brick walls bathed by the green flames behind her, affording Eugene with a sickly pallor. It didn't deter from his smile and when his hand closed around hers Petunia allowed herself to be tucked forward into his arms.

It was a quick embrace, so fleeting Eugene's warmth didn't have a chance to linger or settle in her stomach. But she felt it nonetheless, like smooth sugar water running down her throat, clogging her arteries with sweetness. He smelled like himself, accompanied by a faint note of bitter, burnt herbs. "Did you start smoking?"

Eugene laughed. "I'm happy to see you too, Petals. And thank Merlin Mum doesn't have your nose."

Petunia huffed. It was easy to fall into their usual roles, Eugene teasing and Petunia nagging, as if the last half year hadn't happened, as if the loneliness and doubts were firmly banished to the past. But a trace of them lingered, shadowy smudges tainting the comfortable closeness between them.

"How's Ivy?" Petunia asked. Her concern hadn't been a convenient excuse to visit Eugene - she really missed the lively Occamy in all her chirping and coiling exuberance.

Eugene took her hand and started leading her from the room, away from the memories. "Peckish, just like you."

❀

Ivy' feather's had changed their hue.

Petunia couldn't help but stare at the wings resting against the Occamy's scaled spine. The last time she had seen Ivy her feathers had still been soft, fluffy and bright purple. Now the colour had deepened towards the tip, turning a shade of magenta before darkening to rich burgundy.

She looked different. More intimidating, more dangerous. Grown-up.

And Petunia had the sudden, irrational urge to cry.

"Ivy ..."

At the sound of her voice Ivy's head shot up, previously bedded among her siblings to nap, and now whipping towards them, gleaming golden eyes alighting on her. The next thing Petunia knew she was enveloped in a prison of gleaming scales, smooth and cool against her limbs and wrapped so tightly she would have lost her balance if Eugene hadn't reacted in time and grabbed onto her. Ivy's trilling rang in her ears, loud and happy, and Petunia's hands found the down atop her head to bury her fingers in, still soft and unchanged.

"If she gets any bigger," Eugene warned but didn't have time to finish before they toppled over, his back taking the brunt of the impact.

And just like that the urge to cry was banished in favour of laughter, Petunia's lungs unclenching when she felt Eugene's firm chest at her back and Ivy's smooth scales rubbing against her face.

She had missed this.

"Petals - save me ..."

"Oh, stop being so dramatic." Petunia calmed Ivy with firm pets, urging her to let them up, clambering off Eugene when Ivy had turned the size of her arm. She looped around Petunia like a belt, pinching her waist tightly, her reptilian head pressed flat just above Petunia's belly-button, crinkling her powder-blue blouse. Her scales glittered like a stream come to life, turquoise, aquamarine and cobalt flashing in tandem, split by the crest of long feathers running along her spine. Her wings draped over Petunia's thighs as she sat down, heavier than they looked but somehow grounding, almost like a weighted blanket.

"Dramatic? My life flashed before my eyes." Eugene dusted grass off his shirt, his sparkling eyes belying his words. Petunia had the sudden urge to lean forward, bridge the scant distance between them, press her lips to his and see if his smile was flavoured smoky thanks to his new vice.

Instead she took a deep breath, reminding herself that she didn't want to leave matters unspoken any longer.

"Eugene - what do you think of us?"

He blinked, the stars fleeing from his eyes to make space for a deeper colour. "Petals?"

Petunia rested her palms on Ivy's smooth scales, wishing to syphon the Occamy's calm. "I don't know any more what we are to each other - maybe I never knew. It just happened and we never talked ..."

"I'm going to America."

Ice crystallised her veins. "W-what?"

Eugene rubbed a hand over his face. "Petals, I want you, whatever way you'll have me - there is no one I'd rather be with. Whenever something happens to me, good or bad, big or small, my first instinct is always to tell you about it. When you wrote that you needed time ... it almost broke me."

His voice trickled over Petunia's insecurities, cleansing and soothing, if it weren't for the new yawning fear that cleaved through her chest. "America?"

Eugene took a deep breath, as if steeling himself. "My parents ... did I ever tell you about them?"

Petunia didn't react and Eugene continued after a beat of silence. "They met while they were quite young, and both had high ambitions - my Mum pursued her career as an Auror in America, while my father travelled the world for years, searching for beasts on all continents. They didn't need to be with each other constantly to know they belonged together."

"Eugene ..."

"I won't be gone forever, just until - it was something that was already planned before the war, that once I finish Hogwarts we'd go to America, visit the family for more than a few weeks. And now that everything is so wretched here ..."

"You're leaving?"

"Not forever - just a while, get to know my nieces and visit my uncle and aunt ... just until Mum has calmed down. The last war – it cost my family. And when they had me - Mum thought she was too old to have children, settling down late in life, both my father and her too adventurous for raising children until it was considered a non-issue. And now that the next war is on their doorstep she sees how we get dragged into it - My Dad, Frank, Billy, me ..."

Petunia tried to swallow against the lump in her throat. "Dragged in how?"

But Eugene only shook his head. "Mum's brave. She was Head of the Auror Department for a reason. It's just when her loved ones are threatened that she - she needs some time to see that we'll be alright, that we're needed here. For now ..."

"How long?"

She could hear Eugene's throat click when he swallowed. "I don't know. Petals ... I won't ask you to wait for me because I know it wouldn't be fair but please believe me ... I won't ever find someone else that makes me feel the way you do. I don't want anyone else."

They had only just found each other again and now they would be separated, not by stubbornness but by distance, an ocean spanning between them, too far for even Krampus to cross.

Petunia didn't know when tears had sprung to her eyes but she was determined not to let them fall. "I don't want anyone else either, Eugene."

In the end Petunia couldn't say if it was Eugene or herself who leaned forward, who seeked out the other but a flash of relief pierced through her when they finally kissed, his hands framing her face carefully. His next words were spoken against Petunia's lips. "Only you, Petals. It will always be you."

"I'll be here."

And though she hadn't said it she felt the certainty in her bones that Eugene would come back to her, and that she would be here to welcome him. Until then, they would make the most of the time they had left.

❀