Petunia Dursley

Remus bit back a retort, frustrated by how easy he apparently was to read. “It’s not an excuse. It’s the truth.” He sighed, downing his next drink before the bartender had even walked away. He shot Petunia a glare when she ordered him another almost immediately. “I can’t get drunk today, I mean it.” He warned her. “I’m meeting a friend later, and I- she’d take it the wrong way if get drunk, okay?. She’d get worried. And I am not moping… although you certainly seem to be.”

“Oh no.” An exaggerate pout. “Your friend will get upset that you’re drunk. Ha!”  Her short burst of laughter rang through the pub, getting a couple odd glances. “You’re a goddamn adult, right? You’re in charge of yourself, and if your friend can handle you getting drunk on your own time, then,” she paused, “well, clearly they’re not very fun.” 

She stopped short of telling him to grow a pair, at least. 

Remus didn’t miss the way Petunia reacted to the mention of his sister’s magic. He knew it had driven a wedge between them both during Lily’s years at Hogwarts but, perhaps selfishly, he hadn’t considered that it might have carried over into the years after graduation. Especially since Petunia was becoming such a constant in the Wizarding World. “Sorry.” He said, not looking away from his empty glass. “We don’t have to talk about Lily.” He resignedly ordered another drink before turning to Petunia. “I’m not trying to get drunk.” He said bitterly. He wanted to, but Marlene always visited him on the nights before full moons, and she had such a motherly nature. If she found him drunk he knew she would be upset. He couldn’t do that to her. “I’m trying to take the edge off. That’s all.”

Petunia shrugged. They’d always talk about Lily, because lily was who it all seemed to center on. What else was this kid going to talk to her about? They didn’t have anything in common. 

That answered sobered Sirius more than any other could have. Because he understood that. Even though he’d chosen to leave Regulus with their parents, he still worried about him, as much as he pretended otherwise. While Regulus had always been better at their world than Sirius was, he knew what leaving would do to his brother. Without Sirius there as the buffer, the pressure would have increased. More expectation. It was necessary to continue on the family line and Sirius hadn’t given Regulus much of a choice. He didn’t regret leaving, but he knew that part of that decision had led Regulus’ to Voldemort. It wasn’t a surprise.

“People don’t like you?” Sirius thought she seemed pretty interesting so far. She’d kept his attention longer than some others - and that was a feat in itself. “It must be your warm demeanor.” He couldn’t stay serious for long. Whenever he did that, he dwelled. Became irritable. “Yeah, I’ve got a couple of brothers. Lily’s boyfriend, for one.” Easier to beat around the question about Regulus rather than get into it. 

“Warm as an icicle.” How often had she heard that one before? Complaints from failed dates, from coworkers, from mere acquaintances. She was far from ignorant of it. Hell, hadn’t she put in so much effort with Vernon to make sure he never had reason to think of her that way? Not that it had been hard -- listen to him chatter on about work, lay on her back and pretend to be interested as he grunted away. 

            Huh. Not the most loyal, affectionate thoughts for a widow who’d burried her husband mere days ago. 

“Hm, fair enough.” Remus would have smiled if he wasn’t feeling so frustrated. “I’m sure Lily has a charm or two that’ll remove alcohol and stomach acid from her carpet.“ He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, watching it for a minute or two before speaking up again. "It’s Firewhiskey.” He took a sip, relishing the burn that he usually detested. “It’s kind of a go-to here. Not nearly as strong as the name would have you believe.” He moved to take another sip of his drink but found himself downing it instead, impatient for the alcohol to start working it’s magic. He set the empty glass down onto the bar, debating whether or not to order another one. It probably wasn’t a good idea.

“Of course she would.” The sneer crept in. A flick of her wand, and doubtless Lily would have it all cleaned up. Not like Petunia, who would have to scrub on her hands and needs for ages to get it all out. 

He barked out another note of laughter. “I’ve always wanted to hear a muggle say the word muggle.” She seemed entranced by the lighter and he wondered if she ever smoked before this. Or maybe it was the first muggle thing she’d seen in a while. He knew Lily had kept some things from that other world. They found their way to his and James’ flat often enough. But perhaps Petunia only expected that from her sister and no one else. Really, Sirius thought using his wand was a much easier method of lighting a fag, but he had to keep up with appearances, didn’t he? “Yeah, James got it for me Christmas last. Or, well, I’m sure Lily picked it up for him. Apparently to smoke a muggle thing, you’ve got to use a muggle thing. I didn’t know what it was at first. Nearly set the curtains on fire.” It had taken him over a week to remember it’s name even - calling it a fire light for several days after he’d received it.

The next question surprised him and he finally pushed off from the wall, taking the last drag of his cigarette. It fell to the ground and he put it out with his boot. Shrugging, he blew the smoke from his lips and said, “Don’t have to know them to be here, do I? I know your sister. Good enough for me.” He waited a moment and then tilted his head at her, studying. “You really don’t like her, do you?” She had the same sort of air about her that Sirius did with his own brother. 

“Glad to oblige,” Petunia said wryly, taking another inhale, deeper this time. In truth, she was surprised by someone magical having something muggle. In her mind, they all scorned the muggleworld -- after all, how many had shown up to the funeral in dresses? ‘Robes,’ Lily had told her, but Petunia didn’t see a difference. 

Since an attack could happen at any given moment, Diagon Alley wasn’t considered the safest of places these days, but James figured, that if he was on their to-kill-asap list, then nothing was stopping the Death Eaters from ambushing him in his sleep. Why not take a stroll along those old, worn off shops, some of which were still bustling with life and business, despite the lurking dangers? Well.. Maybe not so much of a stroll as a regular walk, from the Leaky Cauldron to the Gringotts, where James could finally withdrew his previously frozen money. However as he was making his way, back from the bank, his eyes landed on a last person, whom he’d ever expect to visit this part of London. 

There, just a few paces away from him, Petunia Dursley was sitting on a bench, sipping at her coffee and just… Well… Looking pretty human. He stopped in his tracks wondering what to do. Surely, there was something weird going on, if she was willingly spending her time in a wizarding part of England, but then all his knowledge about her character, was based solely on what Lily had told him before. And She didn’t seem like the best source of information nowadays. 

He decided that it might be best to just observe for a few more minutes (and make sure that her sister isn’t anywhere near), before allowing his curiosity to take the better of him. Slowly he approached her, not really believing that he was so damn nosy and quickly making up his mind as to how he was going to start a conversation. He settled on the simple -> sit down next to her and start talking… Which he did.

‘Never thought I’d see a certain Petunia around here, you know?’

She didn’t see him, not really, until he started talking to her. Even when he sat down, the was a mental disconnect, as if she was a ghost in the quiet winter scene, observer but not participant. Even when he did talk and pulled her out of that reverie, it took a heartbeat for her to place him. Coolly, still detached, she wondered at the lack of anger she would have expected at the sight of him. Huh. She supposed she had bigger things to be angry over than her sister’s posh, arrogant boyfriend.

“Don’t have many places I’m allowed to go,” she said in response, not for a second misunderstanding that ‘around here’ meant ‘one of the most magical, anti-muggle places in London’. “I’m on probation, you know.” A slightly sour smile for him. “But I’ve come here a few times, just to get out of the flat.” When being around her sister became insufferable. “I can Floo to the Leaky Cauldron, and wander around from there. Don’t know how to get out other than the Cauldron, and there’s always people there. A nice little pasture to let the Muggle out in where she can’t do any harm."

CONFIDENTIAL 

Notes from the interrogation of Petunia Dursley, Muggle, sister to Lily Evans. Previously found guilty of Statute Breach, but released into her sister’s custody. Ongoing concerns about the risk she poses with future Statute Breaches, as well as her relationship to accused Order Member Lily Evans. 

Do you know Lily Evans? What is your relation to the accused?

    Really? These are the level of questions this is going to be? You know very well that Lily Evans is my sister. Not sure I can claim to know her. We’ve not really been on speaking terms for a while. Prior to this whole ‘now I’m your responsibility’ nonsense you lot dumped on us. Makes for some tense family dinners. Well, that and other things. 

Do you or have you ever had any reason to suspect your sister is a part of the Order of the Phoenix and, or the Death Eaters?

Nope. Though I don’t think she’s a Death Eater, considering that they killed our parents and I know Lily was rather fond of them. No idea about the other thing, though. I'm afraid I don’t know much of anything, really. 

Interviewer Note: I think she’s mocking me.

Who have you told about the wizarding world? Do you trust these individuals not to expose this information?

I told my husband that my sister was a witch. Don’t worry, I don’t think he’s going to tell anyone. Not least because he’s dead. There had been a few discussions with my parents about the wizarding world. They’re dead too. I hope that’s okay. 

Interviewer Note: Definitely mocking me.

Oh, and I tried to tell the whole world about the wizarding world, but I think my statements about that are already well documented. 

 What measures have you taken to ensure that knowledge of the wizarding world do not fall into the wrong hands?

Interviewer Note: No response. Unless a glare is a response. Considering her response to the last question, I did get the feeling that she thought I was an idiot. I can’t really blame her. Honestly, who previewed these questions? And why’d I get stuck with the Muggle? Is this because I ate your lunch, Danvers? 

He was pretty sure that wasn’t the response a person was supposed to say - didn’t his mother demand he thanked everyone for coming (while simultaneously looking manly and regal) when his great grandfather had died? But, then again, Lily’s family had all been Muggles. He couldn’t really expect them to know much about class. Even more… he liked her for it. Anyone who blatantly disregarded what was expected - what his mother would’ve wanted - was alright in his mind.

Eyebrows raised at her question and he his lips tugged up in a smirk. “You want a fag?” he asked her in disbelief before shrugging, stuffing his own into his mouth, and pulling out the pack. He talked around the cigarette, his voice a bit muffled. “So you’re Lily’s sister… ” Though that was already established when he’d apologized about her parents. “I don’t know much about you. Her boyfriend - “ Here, he tapped the fag to his palm, pooling the tobacco and then landed it to her. He reached into a pocket for his light and gave her that, too. “- James - that’s my mate.” 

“I guess I know Lily pretty well by now. I don’t know… she’s around enough, at least.” He didn’t even think about the fact that he’d basically told her he knew more about her sister than she did. Not even stopping to wonder if she’d be offended by that.

A honest, proper lighter. Petunia turned it over in her hand, thumb rubbing across the smooth surface, and grinned. “How muggle of you,” she said, gesturing with the light as she sparked it up and carefully lighting her gifted cigarette. Petunia didn’t smoke, or at least hadn’t before. Her parent’s funeral seemed like as good a time as any to start. Maybe it would help her feel less like she was going to vibrate out of her skin from the effort of suppressed screams. 

@tenderperennial

He wasn’t good with death. Not really. Sadly, in the war he was fighting, he was likely to get much better at it, but that was something he was steadfastly ignoring. The Order is a laugh! he’d decided instead, wrangling James into a mission that his friend firmly believed wasn’t enough to stop Voldemort. And maybe James was right - after all, Sirius was standing outside the little center, lighting a cigarette, having just left Lily’s parents memorial. 

It was getting entirely too emotional in there, with Marlene standing loyally next to Lily, James on the other side. It felt suffocating to Sirius, which was saying something, considering he grew up with lavish parties and a mother who didn’t know how to smile. But overwhelming sadness like that had always been something he couldn’t quite handle - at least, when it was happening to someone else. He also felt his own emotions tenfold, which is why it must’ve been hard to take on another person’s as well. James did a great job at being the steady boyfriend, but Sirius had never been like James.

He took a hit and blew out the smoke slowly. It wasn’t the taste or even the curiosity that had led him to the Muggle habit of smoking - it’d all been out of spite. Part of the allure of proving he wasn’t anything like his family. After all, he had the friends he had, used Muggle clothing to make a statement (even that time that he’d accidentally wore a skirt before Lily put him straight and explained that, no, those were for girls, even though he still claims he looked rather good) - why not take up something entirely un-Black-family-like as smoking? At least he blended in with those people who were actually Muggle and had attended the memorial. All in all, it was mostly Lily’s friends, despite being a Muggle affair. 

The door opened behind him and his head whipped to the side in a nearly dog-like fashion. It was Petunia Evans… no Dursely. Lily’s sister. Sirius shifted, but didn’t move from his place against the wall. He pointed at the door with his cigarette before inhaling again. “It’s pretty shitty in there, huh?” And then because he should say something - “Sorry about your parents.”

Petunia wasn’t sure how the nice memorial she’d planned had been hijacked by a load of magical people. The funeral had been a small, quiet thing, but the small number of her parent’s friends who’d followed to the memorial had quickly left after a few awkward attempts at conversation with the other people who had arrived. How could they be expected to chat with the witches and wizards who’d showed up to support Lily in her grief? Petunia couldn’t even manage it. Thus she’d been sidelined at her own parent’s memorial while Lily recieved all the condolences, her boyfriend at one side, her best friend at the other, with Petunia lurking in a corner until it had become too much and she’d escaped outside

Only, of course even outside wasn’t free of them. Like gnats. She knew she was supposed to know this one, one of Potter’s friends or something, but she couldn’t recall his name. Deciding it didn’t matter, she shrugged. “Yeah, I’m sorry too.” She glanced at the door, sneered, and shook her head. ‘Shitty’ didn’t start to cover it. Turning back to the boy with a sniff, she eyed the cigarette in his hand. 

           With not much else to do, Petunia had Floo’d herself to one of the few places she knew she could get to —Diagon Alley. She’d been there before, of course, ages ago, dragged along on the shopping trip for all of Lily’s school things. A street where time had stopped passing, she’d thought then. That thought still applied. She was certain if she were to get out of this little enclave, the bits of London all around it would have changed drastically in those ten years, yet here, not a single thing seemed different. The same shops, the same styled robes, the same cobblestones beneath her feet. 

There was something almost soothing about that; maybe that was why she was sitting on this bench as the snow feel down around her, not scurrying into a shop. It was idyllic, like some sort of fairytale scene. And maybe, just maybe, Petunia wanted to believe in that a little bit. 

“I’m sorry.” Remus said as he sat down. “I wasn’t implying… I mean, I know you are your own person.” He smiled lightly at the pride in her voice, he supposed the Floo Network would seem pretty impressive to a Muggle. “You may not want to Floo home.” He said. “Not unless you want all of the alcohol you’ve ingested to make an unscheduled re-appearance.”

Petunia shrugged. “Can’t take the tube back,” she said. “Got no idea where the flat is from here.” She took a swig of her drink. “And it’s all probably going to come back up anyone. One way or another.” A smirk. “Kept my breakfast coming here at least.” She scowled at the glass. 

“Don’t even know what’s in this. What are you having?” She’d really kill for a plain, simple beer, but no such luck for that. She squinted as a glass was slid in front of him. “Looks less like water crossed with pool acid, at least.”