Petunia and the Little Monster

April 1975

Petunia learned about the Order of the Phoenix on a sunny afternoon in what could barely be called spring, the first sprigs of green only just unfurling on the naked branches, the air still holding a nip of frost despite the clear sky stretching above them.

"He's right in front of you."

Eugene looked at what to him must appear as empty space and carefully extended one hand, palm up. Aspen slitted nostrils trembled for a second before he nudged Eugene, his milky eyes narrowing as he huffed.

Petunia felt more nervous about introducing the two of them than she was at the thought of Eugene someday meeting her parents, Aspen's approval somehow weighing heavier on her heart. So when Aspen allowed Eugene to carefully pet his invisible neck, a fluttering lightness spread through her.

"Want to go for a flight?"

Eugene's wide grin answered for him and excitement swooped deep in her belly. Flying with Aspen was one of the most precious things in her life, something she wouldn't trade for all the riches and fame in the world. It was something almost intimate, trust required between Aspen and her, the unique freedom she felt while they raced through the sky, unimpeded by gravity or obstacles.

To be able to share it with Eugene was at once exhilarating and slightly terrifying.

Saddling Aspen didn't take long, practise making Petunia's moves smooth and sure. Once she sat on the blanket she used to pad Aspen's ridged spine she gave Eugene a smile. "Come up."

Eugene's fingers quested the blanket that to him must be hovering above empty space, finding a grip to hoist himself up. He settled behind Petunia, grabbing the rope that tethered them to Aspen and resting his other arm around her waist.

"Ready?"

He nodded, his chin brushing her shoulder. "Ready."

Petunia straightened her spine. "Let's go."

Aspen shook his mane and set off, thin-stick legs drumming across the field beneath them, clumps of grass and earth sent flying while Aspen gained speed, his wings snapping open at the last second - and then they were in the air.

Petunia couldn't suppress a shout and was gratified to hear Eugene laugh with the same heady enjoyment that she felt.

Crisp air whipped Petunia's pale hair behind her, striking her cheeks rosy and filling her nose with the scent of fresh dew and ozone. It was sharp, cold and above all things, invigorating.

Petunia never felt more alive than when she was on Aspen's back.

They chased the flimsy whispers of clouds on the horizon, pearls of condensation weighing their clothes and wetting their faces. The sky unfolded around them, a canvas of bleeding grey and vibrant blue dotted with white and sprawling above the woods, fields and houses growing smaller beneath them.

Aspen's wings beat a steady, strong rhythm beside them, mirroring Petunia's heartbeat, while his flanks gleamed like black oil, the small braids Petunia had forced upon his stringy mane dancing like seaweed underwater.

The wind suddenly got sharper as Aspen stretched his legs and lowered his head and it only took Petunia a second to read his intent. "Grab on tight!"

Aspen tucked in his wings and then they were plunging.

Petunia swallowed her scream and huddled down as close to Aspen's bony back as she was able, her fingers clawing around the rope that tied them together. Her eyes were watering and she had to narrow them against the sting of the air, almost blind. Eugene was a reassuring presence at her back, his weight anchoring her more firmly to Aspen, his form sheltering her from the worst of the cutting winds.