#they said they thought the user might have been a child they said theyd have fun putting them on blast…

[qtubbo]

Btw if your righteous anger gets tons of people harassed, and a teenager blackmailed with doxxing maybe it wasn’t so righteous. Hope you had fun just like you said you would.

[ceiaofsilence]

Electric Heart, Ch. 1

In which Petunia has a Quirk and Lily doesn’t, and that is really the start of everything.

Petunia Evans manifested her Quirk at the tender age of three. It  wasn’t anything fancy, all she did was get the mess she’d made eating off of her bib, and her parents registered it as a ‘Cleaning Quirk’. That wasn’t quite what it was, but she didn’t question it until later. Neither did her parents, as they were busy preparing for the birth of Petunia’s little sister.

Little Lily Evans was a lovely child, and Petunia loved her fiercely. They’d play together, would read hero magazines with riveted attention and obsess over news reports.

“Just wait until I get my Quirk!” Lily would chirp. “I’ll be the strongest hero! My name’s gonna be Tiger Lily!”

“We’ll be heroes together,” Petunia would vow.

“But your Quirk is Cleaning,” the younger Evans would then frown.

“I’ll find a way.” Petunia was young and stubborn in those innocent times. The only thing that would change about that in coming years was her age.

“It’s a promise!” Lily would cheer.

But Lily Evans never manifested a Quirk, and while she still aspired to be a hero, her heart didn’t seem to be in it anymore. But Petunia never forgot that promise, and in her idealistic child’s mind, she never considered the possibility that Lily might.

From the moment that the doctor confirmed Lily to be Quirkless, Petunia became invisible. Her parents quickly turned overprotective of Lily. Any accomplishment of Lily’s was praised, so much more significant with Lily being ‘disadvantaged’.

Lily the brilliant. Lily the brave. Lily the sweet. Lily the courageous.

Petunia… who?

Nothing she did was special.

“Mummy!” she’d say excitedly. “Look! I Cleaned off the garden wall!” Indeed, with painstaking concentration she’d made the garden wall look like new, moss and dirt in a neat pile beside it. It had taken her two hours.

“Petunia!” Mum would exclaim. “Don’t say that in front of Lily!” Then she’d turn and fuss over the youngest Evans, and Petunia would be forgotten.

  The fight started out simple. Petunia was nine, Lily six. There was a picture of the young Japanese hero All Might in the newspaper, recently declared to be the strongest hero in the whole world. He looked odd, and he wasn’t Petunia’s favourite - that honour belonged to the British number one, Phyta the Green Empress, whose power over plants was unrivalled and whose beauty matched her strength. But she couldn’t deny that All Might was incredible.

“Do you think we could be like him one day?” Petunia chattered as she perused the article over breakfast. “Oh, he’s in Oxford right now! Can we meet him, Daddy? Oh please, I want to meet him! We’re going to be heroes just like him someday-“

“I’M NOT GOING TO BE A HERO!” Lily’s screech was loud, far too loud, ringing with pain and desperation and heartbreak. “GOD, TUNEY, GET IT IN YOUR BLOODY HEAD!”

And the lightbulbs shattered.

Petunia had always held out hope that Lily was just a late bloomer, double toe joint or no. She was overjoyed - surely, everything would be fine now? Lily and her were the same now!

“Petunia!” her Mum yelled then, while Daddy fussed over a hysteric Lily. “Go to your room and think about what you said to poor Lily! I can’t believe how insensitive you are - we raised you better than this.”

“But-“ she protested. “But we-“

“Petunia, just go,” Daddy said tiredly.

“It’s not fair!” Petunia burst out. “I’ve never - and she - and - Lily said a bad word!” Somehow, that was all that she could say.

“To your room!” Mum thundered, and her normally so melodic voice - a side-effect of her Quirk, ‘Voice’ - was frightening. Petunia ran for it.

When the doorbell rang not a while later, she thought it was just a neighbour enquiring if everything was all right.

She couldn’t have been more wrong.

  Magic. Magic.

That was- that was so-

Of course Petunia had known it existed, it wasn’t like it was a secret. Magic users had revealed themselves ages ago, taking the opportunity when the phenomenon of Quirks became an accepted part of society. Magicals still kept to themselves, however, forming a highly exclusive and secretive subculture. Of the 20% of people in the world who were born quirkless, 0.05% turned out to have magic - meaning, magicals made up roughly 0.01% percent of the world population. One in ten thousand.

They were rather obscure, steeped in their own traditions and culture. Magic had the side-effect of interfering with technology, which meant that hardly any of them used social media, and they were rather out of touch with the non-magical world in turn, having no televisions.

Magic users were also rather unpopular. The treaties that had been made when the ‘Statute of Secrecy’ had been abolished ensured that magical culture would be protected by allowing them a high degree of autonomy - because the world was in chaos back then due to the emergence of Quirks, no government had wanted to risk making an enemy out of an organised society of supernaturally gifted people who’d had centuries to explore their abilities. Which led to the concession of allowing magical society their own governments, legislature, and education system.

But it had become apparent that wizards and witches felt themselves superior over non-magicals. They had a special term for them, too, though Petunia couldn’t recall it now. Reporters had written exposés on them, and some wizards that hadn’t been born in that society had published books on the culture that shed a really bad light on them. Non-magical governments had in reaction demanded investigations and new legislations in magical society, which had caused terrible unrest at the time.

And Lily, knowing none of this, was elated to be magical. The woman that had visited - Petunia had to rely on her parents’ and Lily’s rambling accounts since she’d been hiding in her room - was a witch sent by the Ministry to inform Lily of what she was and provide her with explanations. Lily was also required to visit informative meetings and preparatory classes for the school she’d be visiting after she turned eleven. An education that would take her away for seven years.

Lily would be too old for hero school after graduating.

Not that there had ever been any records of a magical hero.

A rift had opened between Petunia and her little sister. Between Petunia and the rest of the family, really.

There was the horrible jealousy and bitterness. If Petunia had thought everything would be all right now, that her parents would finally focus on her a little more, she was dead wrong. If anything it got worse. Mum and Daddy fawned - and it couldn’t be called anything else! - over Lily even more. She was special after all.

Lily the magical. Lily, the one among a ten thousand who had magic. Lily the miracle.

Lily who barely even talked to Petunia anymore, who didn’t have to do chores as much, whose birthday and Christmas presents were better and more expensive than Petunia’s ever were. Lily who was pretty with her dark red hair and brilliant green eyes. Who went to special meets for ‘muggleborn witches and wizards’ and came back saying “Witches don’t become heroes,” as if being a hero wasn’t noble and admirable and everything she’d wanted to be since she was young, as if Petunia’s dream was worthless. “We have Aurors,” she’d then relay with admiration. “Magic is so versatile. We don’t even need Quirks.”

They drifted apart - or rather, Petunia extracted herself from that relationship because these days Lily’s every word hurt. She didn’t like this bitter and jealous person she became around her sister and parents, so she became more and more reclusive, taking to studying in her room. She wasn’t naturally smart like Lily, who seemed to have an innate grasp of any concept laid before her. But Petunia was a hard worker, and that, she told herself, made her better than Lily, who didn’t have to work for anything.

Petunia decided she was a fighter. While Lily began to hang around with that Snape boy from Spinner’s End - and he was terribly rude and arrogant! - she began taking Martial Arts classes and frequented websites that offered advice on Quirks. Planning out her career and researching hero schools - because she’d show everyone that she could do it. She’d make them see her! - quickly led to obsessive training into the late hours. She began experimenting with her Quirk at the local junkyard (with permission, of course), and found out that it wasn’t just Cleaning. Rather, it was Relocating. Petunia had a ‘territory’ of sorts around herself, and within it she could move things around, switch them, even deconstruct and put them back together. It wasn’t a large territory, if she spread out her arms her fingertips would just touch the limits. But Mr. Solomon, the owner of the junkyard, told her that hard work and practice was everything when it came to Quirks.

And hard work was Petunia’s specialty, after all.

Petunia participated in a Quirk tournament when she was twelve, having heard that hero schools often sent scouts looking for new talent there. And at this point, she had understood that her parents were against her becoming a hero.

“It’s not for everyone,” they’d cautioned at first. “Your Quirk isn’t suitable for hero work.” Explanations that her Quirk wasn’t just cleaning fell on disbelieving ears.

When she wouldn’t relent, they said, “It’s too expensive.” But they’d just bought Lily a stack of magic books, so that wasn’t believable. “We don’t want you to be disappointed when you aren’t admitted.”

When, not if. They had no faith at all in her.

“I’m going to do it,” she told them.

And then Lily would make a pained face, her mother would see it and wince, and Petunia knew what this was all about. Stupid, spoiled Lily, out to crush Petunia’s dreams again.

If she wanted to make her dream reality - and she would! - then she needed to do it herself. Which was why she went to that tournament.

Petunia didn’t win, to her disappointment. But out of the fifty kids that participated, she placed ninth. Her training served her well, and it helped that unlike a martial arts tournament, the matches were held out in a training ground that imitated a village - there was more than enough clutter for Petunia to work with, since her Quirk didn’t work on living beings.

She lost against a boy with Pyrokinesis, and a girl with blue skin entangled Petunia in a mass of hair before she could figure out a proper defence. But that didn’t matter afterwards, when a man with the head of a cat approached her.

“That’s a very interesting Quirk you have there, Miss Evans,” he told her.

“Thank you, Sir,” she sniffled. “But I lost.”

“You did well,” he disagreed. “Quirks like yours - they’re rare. Fire quirks, mutation quirks, they’re common. But you - your Quirk would be invaluable on disaster sites, and it’s incredibly versatile. What is it called?”

“It’s - it’s mislabelled as Cleaning,” she admitted, flushing in embarrassment, because that error still hadn’t been corrected. “But I would call it ‘Rearrangement’.”

“Do you wish to be a hero, Miss Evans?” he asked her.

“More than anything else in the world,” Petunia breathed. And he handed her a business card.

Jared Kelvin

Winterville Academy of Heroics

  Winterville wasn’t the number one hero school in Britain. But it fulfilled Petunia’s requirements: One, it was a boarding school and far away from her parents’ home. Two, it offered her a scholarship.

That was all she needed.

 Hero school was a revelation. Suddenly, Petunia was among likeminded people. No longer did anyone look down on her for her so-called Cleaning Quirk. No longer was she invisible. People here were interested in her. They supported her. They wanted her to get stronger and better. That, that was amazing.

She felt as if she’d been reborn. Her roommate was a bubbly girl named Raleigh (“Call me X-Raye! I hope we can be friends!”) and suddenly, she had someone to giggle over boys with, to help her pick out outfits, to analyse the latest hero gossip and chatter well into the night with. She’d never been so happy.

No longer did Petunia feel inferior when Lily came back from Hogwarts, which she’d begun attending two years ago, chattering about her own experiences and feeling viciously pleased at the pinched lips of her mother and Lily’s unhappy frown. In the neighbourhood, people would greet her now, shaking her hand and praising her for chasing her dreams.

It wasn’t all fun though, training was hard, competition was harder. There was always some drama going on, because they were all teenagers and all of them had powerful Quirks. And as a girl, Petunia had to put in triple the effort because Winterville had once been an all-boy’s school and the ratio of boys to girls was still vastly unbalanced. But Petunia was nothing if not persistent.

She graduated at age eighteen, not at the top of her year but comfortably in the top twenty. Final exams had been draining and she was looking forward to a month of rest before sending applications to hero offices. Maybe she’d even hire a private agent, but she’d try on her own first. Perhaps put in ads as a sidekick to get some practical experience under a veteran hero. Winterville had offered a few internships, but they were intensely competed over and in the end Petunia hadn’t gotten one.

If nothing worked out, she had a hero license. She could always try to make it on her own, though it would be hard. She wouldn’t have an agency to send her to disaster sites, no one to help her with publicity, and sponsors wouldn’t approach her so easily.

“Oh,” her father said awkwardly when she explained her plans. “I thought you’d be going to university.”

Petunia had had enough of schools for a lifetime, thank you very much. She’d done well enough, but it wasn’t anything she particularly enjoyed. She was itching to start her career. “I’ll be using the money to kick off my hero career.”

“Tuney, sweetheart.” That was her mother. And nothing good ever followed the words Tuney, sweetheart. “We’ve been tolerating this hero obsession since it started, and you know we weren’t happy about your choice in schools. But we were hoping you would grow out of it.”

It was suddenly very hard to breathe for Petunia.

“We want you to quit. Hero-business - that’s just too dangerous, and you have to be realistic, sweetheart. There’s so many heroes, and most of them just never manage to make enough money to support themselves. And let’s be honest, you Quirk just isn’t that hero-suitable.” Rose Evans had the nerve to pat her shoulder comfortingly. “We only want what’s best for you.”

“Please go to university, or get a realistic job you can actually do,” Dad told her seriously.

Petunia nodded slowly. “I understand.” She stood. “Good day, Mother, Father.” She yanked her smartphone from her pocket. “X-Raye? What do you say about getting an appartment together?”

“Tuney!” Mother gasped, scandalised. Petunia gave her a brittle smile.

“I believe it is lucky I haven’t unpacked yet.” She turned on her heel. “Watch out for Lady Order.”

  Spite was always a great motivator, and without it Petunia would never have gotten as far as she had. And now, because her parents had told her she wasn’t good enough (they’d never tell Lily that!), she threw her all into starting her hero career. Visited every hero agency in Birmingham, where she and X-Raye had rented an appartment, to introduce herself and hand over her application. They told her they’d call her, which was discouraging because she never got that ‘we-want-her!’ vibe from any of them.

She refused to rely on her parents’ money any longer, so she found herself a job for the times she wasn’t patrolling the city. It was just employment in a grocery store, absolutely nothing fancy - but she was allowed to use her Quirk to rearrange the shelves and clean up, and it paid fine. After a week she also started working evenings in a bar.

That was where she met Vernon Dursley for the first time. He was ordinary. Somewhat overweight, but it wasn’t too bad. And his moustache was charming.

Plus he was interested. Petunia knew she wasn’t exactly pretty. Tall, her neck too long. Not much in the way of a chest, and lean thanks to her training. Intimidating mucles. Her face just a little too long. But her hair was nice, her piercing blue eyes had been declared ‘spellbinding!’ by X-Raye, and with the right make-up her face was easy on the eyes. And thanks to her quirk all her clothing was arranged to fit just right.

Still, she wasn’t exactly much to look at when compared to the curvy barmaid or the university students that frequented the bar, so she was especially flattered when Vernon chatted her up, and before she knew it she had agreed to a date. It wasn’t exactly the best time she’d ever had with anyone, but Vernon was sweet, and it felt so good to be wanted and appreciated, to be courted and flattered. So she agreed to a second date, and a third, and a fourth.

The fourth date changed her world. It was a double date, with X-Raye who had brought the girl she had a crush on. Vernon had gotten a pinched look on his face, but said nothing, had done his best to not express disapproval. They’d chosen to sit outdoors of the Italian restaurant, and had just placed their orders.

That was when the third floor of the shopping centre across the street just - blew up. And Petunia acted. Her Sphere of Influence expanded to previously unreached proportions and enveloped the building. And all the flying rubble just froze. She breathed out harshly and forced herself to take stock of the situation instead of panicking like she so desperately wanted to. “X-Raye!” she called out, and her best friend was already by her side, Quirk activated, eyes glowing white, easily seeing through walls and picking out life-forms.

“Lady Order, there’s a villain,” she said calmly. “He seems to shoot explosive material from his skin. Survivors are trapped in there, we need to contain him.”

“Understood.” Petunia’s Quirk allowed her to have her costume with her at all times, she only had to Arrange it on her body. Within a moment she was covered in armour and helmet. She clenched gauntlet-covered fists and all the floating rubble Arranged into blocks, which then assembled into a stairway to the building. X-Raye handed her a comm-unit. “He’s rampaging on the second floor,” she said.

“Copy that,” Petunia snapped out, and jumped onto her makeshift stairway. “Enter the building and guide the civilians out.”

“Got it.”

Petunia ran right towards the building, but then - “Petunia! He’s coming out!” - the walls of the second floor were blown out and the villain, swathed in a dark cloak and wearing a mask, jumped out.

And  again Petunia just - reacted. In an instant, the makeshift stairs Reassembled around the villain. “Containment Order!” Petunia shouted, clenching her fists.

The villain tried. Shot explosion after explosion at the rubble, but it just wasn’t enough. She walled him in, stopped all his movements, left him only enough space to breathe before she knocked him out. And then X-Raye was yelling into her ear, and they set about saving survivors. X-Raye telling her where the survivors were, where she needed to stabilise the damaged building, where rubble needed to be cleared away in order to free someone.

This was Petunia’s official debut as a hero.

 “So, huh. What about Vernon? Didn’t you both plan to catch that movie tonight?” X-Raye asked casually as they sat at the restaurant together.

“He told me he couldn’t handle my heroics and that I should quit if I wanted to stay with him,” Petunia answered bitterly.

“Aw shit,” X-Raye said. “Are you - do you need ice cream? Or, a hug? I give good hugs!” She nodded emphatically, her black curls bouncing with the movement.

“I know,” Petunia smirked. “And no, no ice cream. Honestly, I don’t really have time for a relationship. I’d have broken up with Vernon anyway, I think.” She laughed then. “After all, we just signed with Whitaker Hero Agency!” She raised her wineglass.

X-Raye laughed, the light reflecting off her glasses that she had to wear because she was near-sighted when not using her Quirk. Her wineglass clinked against Petunia’s. “To our debuts!”

“To our debuts,” Petunia repeated, a little more quiet. She stared into her wineglass. “I wished - you know.”

“I can’t read minds, darling,” X-Raye said gently.

Petunia sighed deeply. “I’ve been dreaming of my hero debut since I was old enough to know what it meant. But when it happened-“ Her breath hitched. The smell of smoke, the dust, the screams, dear God-

“I know,” X-Raye murmured quietly, her hand covering Petunia’s. “It was… terrifying.”

“Yes,” Petunia agreed. “But - I was glad I was there. With you by my side. I don’t think I’d have been as calm if I hadn’t known you’d have my back.”

Her friend smiled. “You were really great though. The media is all over you. ‘A new heroine takes the stage! Lady Order has arrived!’” she quoted. Petunia dropped her face into her free hand. The other was still being held by X-Raye and that was - it felt nice.

“I could do without the media,” she muttered. Which was funny because she’d wanted to be a hero because of the fame and the recognition. But that had begun to change in school, where she’d been challenged to go to her limits, to use every last drop of talent to be the very best she could be. And then, during the double date incident - it had been about helping people. Her body had acted practically on its own.

“Did your parents call you?” X-Raye asked quietly. Petunia shook her head.

“No,” she answered. “Mum and Dad, they’re... I don’t even know.” She sighed in frustration.

“Hey.” X-Raye squeezed her hand. “Do you want to go see that movie with me?”

Petunia blinked. She’d say yes in a heartbeat, but the way X-Raye was looking at her - it was different. Warm. And her hand on Petunia’s - oh. Oh. Her heart skipped a beat, and she should probably - her parents wouldn’t like this, would they? But- but this was X-Raye. Best friend, staunchest supporter, sweet and kind but fierce when standing up for herself and others.

“I would like that very much,” Petunia said quietly.

 Life became even more busy. Her agency decided that she needed to make full use of the publicity her debut had given her, and so she barely had time to sleep while she travelled around the UK to various disaster sites. Of which there was no shortage, no thanks to the villain Earthshaker who was terrorising the nation by appearing in random locations and causing earthquakes.

It was sheer coincidence when Petunia ran into him while she was cleaning up the devastation he’d caused to a village near Glasgow. It was sheer luck that she managed to somehow beat him, which sent her budding fame soaring to new heights. She wasn’t entirely happy with this, the fight had shown her how much she still had to learn, and the publicity cut into her time for training.

Her new girlfriend was her rock in that time. X-Raye was… wonderful. Petunia wondered how she could have ever looked at Vernon when this beautiful woman had been right in front of her, had been there for her from the moment they’d met. They didn’t get to spend much time together as a couple, Petunia being so busy and often out of Birmingham, while X-Raye specialised in investigative work. But there were phone calls and skype, and the distance made their moments together that much more precious.

Life as a hero was exhausting, but infinitely more rewarding than she could have ever imagined. The moments when someone walked up to her, telling her how much they appreciated her protection, how much they supported her. The thanks of the people she saved (and wasn’t that amazing, Petunia had saved lives!), the smiles and cheers she inspired in people. She wouldn’t trade it for the world.

 “And I think I want to be an Auror,” Lily rambled. “It’s, I want to help people and crime has been rising lately. I think it’s the right thing to do.”

“That’s our Lily!” Dad boomed with a pride he’d never seemed to show for Petunia. Why was she even here?

Right. Because it was the first time her parents had reached out to her since she moved out so abruptly. Yet she felt invisible within the confines of her childhood home. And caged, expected to fit into a mould she couldn’t even see.

Still. She would endure this. Hero life had shown her that life was short, no matter how strong a Quirk was. Just last week a colleague had died, and three months ago Phyta, Petunia’s childhood idol, had been forced to retire due to injury. No matter her opinion and difficulties with her family, Petunia loved them.

Later, after dinner just as Petunia was leaving, Lily ran up to her. “Tuney!” she called out. “Tuney, wait!” She was out of breath when she reached Petunia. Someone hadn’t been keeping fit, huh? And still Petunia couldn’t suppress a stab of jealousy because her younger sister, barely sixteen years old now, looked still so effortlessly perfect.

“What is it, Lily?” she asked.

“Oh,” Lily fidgeted nervously. “I wanted to ask you if I could write you sometime.”

Petunia blinked. “Of course, why would you think you couldn’t?”

Lily wilted. “I’m not friends with Sev anymore!” she blurted causing Petunia to start in surprise because as far as she was aware, the two had been inseparable. “And I, and I realised that his opinions caused me to disregard my family and especially you. I’m so sorry about that.” Lily’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry about a lot of things.”

“Oh Lily,” Petunia said softly, folding the younger girl into an awkward hug. Lily was small and soft where Petunia was tall and lean and somewhat awkward. “You’re my sister,” she murmured while Lily sobbed against her shoulder. “And while I won’t deny that you hurt me greatly in the past, I love you very much and that won’t change. I’d be happy if you wrote to me.”

“So we’re okay?” Lily sniffled.

“I don’t know,” Petunia admitted. “I think it’ll take time.”

 Exchanging letters with Lily was… awkward more than anything. Petunia’s younger sister mostly seemed to want someone to vent to about the racist sentiments that were running rampant, ‘that Potter boy’s idiocy’, the backwardness of some aspects of wizarding culture. She liked to use complicated words that even the internet couldn’t explain to Petunia. It was nothing like the talks she’d shared with X-Raye when they’d been sixteen years old.

And while Petunia made an effort to take Lily seriously and give her what sisterly advice she could (not that she had much experience in that venture), Lily just never seemed to return the favour. When Petunia wrote about her own life and struggles, Lily would comment on it with a short paragraph at most. If it had anything to do with being a hero, Lily would simply ignore it. Considering Petunia’s whole life was about being a hero, this was discouraging.

And if Petunia criticised something Lily had said or done, the reply would be late and snippy at best. Because Lily was headstrong and spoiled, it couldn’t be said any other way. Petunia knew she herself was bitter and jealous which made her view of things clouded. But even X-Raye, whom she showed their correspondence to, agreed that Lily could use a dose of humility.

Still, it was nice to be on speaking terms with Lily again, even if it wasn’t all great. Lily was still a sweet and sincere girl, funny and smart. And once Petunia carefully pointed out her observations (and a month of no replies), Lily did apologise and promised to do better. She didn’t quite keep the promise due to not realising just when she was saying the wrong thing, but she tried.

 James Potter was a ponce. Lily had invited him to a family dinner. It was obvious that this wasn’t the first time, either. But it was the first time Petunia met him though she felt she knew him through Lily’s letters. Which, admittedly, weren’t the best source of information due to Lily being a bit dense and not objective in the least.

She tried not to be bitter that her parents were warmer and kinder to him than they’d ever tried to be towards X-Raye, whom Petunia had brought to visit twice at her girlfriend’s insistence. Rose and Michael Evans laughed with Potter as if they’d known him for years.

Petunia found him to be arrogant and annoying. There was a barely hidden huff of laughter when she told him she was a pro-hero, he made jokes about ‘cleaning up villains’ that everyone laughed about - how could they still not understand that her Quirk wasn’t Cleaning? That she was a nationwide famous professional hero who deserved respect for putting her life on the line - and subtly mocked Quirks in general, but Petunia was the only one who noticed it.

But then, in the Evans family, Quirks had become something that better remained unpraised at best.

Still, Potter loved Lily, that much was obvious. And Lily loved him back.

Despite that, Petunia was completely taken aback when Lily announced they were going to get married. Lily was barely eighteen! She’d just graduated! She had no job to fall back on, had only ever dated this one guy - and for not even a year at that! That was the height of irresponsibility.

Petunia was glad that she for once wasn’t the only one who felt that way - Dad wasn’t pleased, and neither was Mum. The discussion was unpleasant to say the least.

And like she always did, Lily wheedled approval from their parents. Because Lily always got her way.

  The wedding was terrible. For Petunia anyways. Everyone else seemed think it ‘dreamy’. It was as if her parents were deaf to the whispers of ‘muggles’. Blind to the way they were patronisingly being smiled down at.

Petunia for one couldn’t stand it, and it was only X-Raye’s firm grip on her that kept her from saying something biting in regards to the disrespectful jokes Potter’s friends made about their chosen profession. And that stupid best man of Potter’s wouldn’t stop flirting with Petunia’s girlfriend.

They left as soon as they could.

“That was fun, let’s never do it again,” was all X-Raye said about it, and Petunia couldn’t have agreed more.

Lily’s letters stopped almost completely after the wedding, far too enamoured with the life she was building with Potter.

The next time they saw each other again was at their parents’ funeral, and it was then they had their biggest row to date. Because it had been wizards who’d murdered Rose and Michael Evans. Members of a racist wizard faction that Lily had deliberately said nothing about, no warnings, no nothing. “It’s not like they could have done anything!” Lily yelled.

“I’m the number seven pro-hero in all of the United Kingdom!” Petunia shouted back. “I could have done something!”

“Oh, like you even cared about them. You’ve always been jealous of me and my magic, with your stupid little Cleaning Quirk!” Lily scoffed.

“Me, jealous?” Petunia shrieked, deaf to X-Raye’s attempts to calm her. “That’s just rich! The only thing I’ve ever envied you for was the family you stole from me. And how dare you say that I didn’t care about Mum and Dad, you entitled little bint?!”

“That’s enough, Petunia!” Potter growled. “Don’t you talk like that to my wife!”

“Oh no, James! I want to hear this!” Lily hissed. “Come on, let it all out. Tell me how jealous you are, how you only became a hero to show me up. Like you even know what a true hero looks like!”

“She sees one every time she looks into a mirror,” X-Raye snapped. “Come on, Pet. Let’s go somewhere else.”

“Right, run away!” Lily jeered.

“Shut your trap. You are the reason they’re dead!” Petunia snarled.

“Aguamenti!” The blast of water hit Petunia’s torso and threw her to the ground. Stunned, she stared at Lily’s furious expression, which slowly melted into a horrified one. “Tuney…”

“I’m done with you.” Petunia stood, her black dress dirty and drenched, her hair ruined. “You know the funny thing? Even if Mother and Father were here, they’d take your side right now.” She barked out a laugh. “Good day.”

And that was the last time the Evans sisters ever spoke to each other.

  The house stood tall and beautiful. Three stories, a large garden, state-of-the-art security system. And it was all Petunia’s. And, she thought as she knelt before her girlfriend with a ring held out, soon it would be theirs.

“Petunia,” X-Raye sobbed. “I-“

Something in her froze. Those… those weren’t happy tears. No. No.

“This is lovely, and I, I’m so, I’m so sorry,” X-Raye whimpered. “I c-ca-can’t  marry y-you. I’m n-not-“ A new wave of sobs shook her, preventing her from continuing.

“Y-you mean that you aren’t ready?” Petunia asked shakily. “That’s o-okay, that’s f-fine-“

“No!” X-Raye screamed. Then, softly, “I’m leaving. You. I’m leaving you. And I’m retiring.”

“W-what, you can’t m-mean that, Ray-Raye, please-“ Petunia pleaded.

“I do l-love you,” X-Raye whispered. “So very much. B-but this relationship. You. You’re this amazing h-hero, and everybody l-loves you and I’m just - nobody looks at me. I’m struggling to g-get any recognition at all, a-and it’s j-just not worth i-it. And y-you’re always g-gone. I just - I gi-give up on being a hero. I sh-should be realistic.”

“No,” Petunia whispered. “No, please-”

But no matter how much she begged and pleaded, Petunia Evans was all alone in the end, and the empty house was a mausoleum to the relationship that had been her pillar of support for so long.

  Three weeks had passed since the break-up. Dozens of phone calls had gone ignored, X-Raye had moved out of their appartment, and even her parents wouldn’t tell Petunia anything. It hurt, it hurt so much.

Throwing herself into work did nothing to quiet her grief.

All alone, all alone. Never good enough. Not for your parents, not for your sister, not for the woman you thought you’d marry and spend the rest of your life with.

The medals and awards she’d won, the fan letters, the sponsor offers. That was all worthless.

It was then that she noticed people entering the property. She’d taken to keeping her Quirk active at all times ever since the murder of her parents. And now, in the dead of night, long past the time even the most persistent trick-or-treater would still be awake, two unknown subjects were approaching Petunia’s home. She took a deep breath and suited up, then sent a quick message to her agency with a request to monitor her security cameras and document whatever happened, and to send back-up her way. That done, she used her smartphone to access the camera feeds herself.

The first wizard was an old man with a long beard and high heels, wearing robes. The second was a woman in an emerald cloak, a pointy hat on her head. And somehow they had extinguished every light on the streets. Thankfully, Petunia’s security cameras needed no light source.

As Petunia crept out of the house through a backdoor she observed the camera feeds. Headlights appeared, and a large man on a motorcycle joined the two magicals. In his arms was a tiny bundle. An infant-sized bundle, to be precise. An ice-cold grip of fear clenched around Petunia’s heart - was this a hostage situation? Would the baby be used against her?  This situation had suddenly become much more serious.

Petunia observed while she readied her defences and Rearranged ammunition for her Quirk subtly. The wizards didn’t appear to be too conscious of their surroundings, though there was a moment where the large man let out a howl and the woman looked around for anyone who might have heard. The trio was almost to the front door now.

They placed the infant on her doorstep. Petunia gaped when they merely stepped back and stared down at the child before she stormed up to them. It was clear they weren’t hostile by now, so she felt safe in doing so.

“And just what-” she demanded in her most cutting voice- “do you think you are doing?”

They spun around on their heels as one, their wands out. And blinked at the metal javelins hovering around them, tips pointed at them, held in the air by Petunia’s Quirk.

“Ah,” the old man said. “You must be Petunia. It is lovely to meet you, my dear.”

“Wands away,” she ordered, “And step away from the child.”

“We would never hurt little Harry!” the woman gasped, scandalised.

“Away. From the child,” Petunia snarled, making the javelins hover closer - and while their backs were turned to ‘Harry’, Arranged a safety wall around the infant. Was that a letter tucked into his blankets? It was too hard to see.

The trio obeyed her, following the old man’s lead in putting their wands (or umbrella in the big man’s case) away.  Though the old man - he looked familiar somehow, perhaps Lily had shown her a picture at some point? - was smiling peacefully, as though he was merely humouring her. In contrast, the woman looked as if she wished to scratch out Petunia’s night vision goggles-protected eyes.

“My dear Miss Evans,” the old one said. “We do not mean any harm. This hostility is unnecessary, I assure you.”

“My parents were murdered by your kind,” she replied. “And you approach my home in the dead of night, with no intention of announcing yourselves. I will not apologise for my caution, nor will I lower it. Now. Who are you, and what is your business with me?”

He sighed deeply, smile vanishing. “I cannot fault you, I suppose. These are dangerous times we are living in.”

“Answer the question.” Petunia was getting fed up.

“As you wish.” The man’s energy seemed to wane, leaving him tired. “The boy on your doorstep is your younger sister’s son, Harry Potter.” Petunia startled at that. Lily had never contacted her again after their last row, and a nephew’s existence came as a complete surprise. She almost missed the man’s next sentence. “I regret to inform you that Lily Potter and her husband perished tonight.”

Like a punch to the gut. Petunia nearly doubled over, nearly lost hold on her Quirk. Disbelief and shocked grief warred inside her. But she was trained to power through those. Lady Order was renowned for her countenance in the face of danger.

“The letter I have left with young Harry explains-“

Petunia didn’t let him get further than that. A spark of anger had ignited in her, and she clung to it, fanned the flame to keep herself moving, to stop the terrible cold inside of her. “You were going to leave the child with me. Explaining all of this in a letter. Leave a helpless child at the dawn of November on a doorstep, hours before anyone reasonable would be awake. Telling me of my only surviving family member’s demise through a bloody letter?!”

“Miss Evans, there are reasons-“

“Which you are going to explain to me in excruciating detail, as well as in person,” Petunia hissed.

“Miss Evans!” The witch’s voice was so reminiscent of the strict teachers at Winterville that Petunia fell silent and stood straight automatically. “You forget yourself.”

“Forget myself?” Petunia demanded. “That’s rich. Answers. Now.”

The old man raised his hand to pacify the witch. “Very well. Tonight, the leader of a terrorist group in our society attacked the Potter family. He murdered James and Lily, but when he raised his wand to attack their child, an ancient protection Lily had invoked reflected the attack back on him. As you share Lily’s blood, so long as Harry calls your house his home, both he and it will be benefitting from this protection.”

“Why did this terrorist decide to go after the Potters?” Petunia asked, masking the confused hurt that was seeping into her heart. Lily. Gone.

“They were upstanding members of our society,” the man told her sombrely. “And they confronted Lord Voldemort more than once and survived it.” He looked at a strangely-shaped watch on his wrists without a care for the javelins still pointed at him. “I believe it is time to go.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Petunia growled. But before she could do anything, the three vanished with a loud crack that woke the child. She heard him begin to sniffle, and with quick strides she hurried to him and picked him up, awkwardly rocking him in her arms. She had no clue about children, only knew that she had to support the head when holding them. “Shh,” she whispered. “Auntie is here. You’re safe, little one.”

Green eyes - Lily’s eyes - opened and stared at her. Those eyes, more than anything, were a stab to the heart. This was Lily’s son. And the only way Lily would have trusted Petunia with him was if she really was-

A dry sob escaped from Petunia’s throat. The little boy made a confused gurgling sound.

Just then, lights illuminated the dark street, and the back-up Petunia had requested finally arrived.

  Two days later, Petunia sat in her house with her nephew on her lap. Files of information were stacked on her desk. A multitude of supplies to care for an infant had been delivered to her house.

“What am I going to do with you, huh?” she murmured to the sleeping boy.

Petunia was absolutely not prepared to care for this tiny human being. But she’d be damned if she wouldn’t figure it out. He was hers now.

Obviously she would leave the country with little Harry. Even a superficial investigation had yielded enough information to unsettle her, and there was that damned letter that contained barely more information than she’d wheedled out of the man who had been identified as one Albus Dumbledore, a highly influential individual and the headmaster of the school Lily had attended.

She’d had to stop authorities from pursuing and questioning the man. Oh, she did want to know what his agenda was, wanted every last bit of information on her sister’s death from him. But Harry’s safety came first, and this man was powerful. Attempting to coerce her to take in the boy by insinuating threats against her safety that those ‘blood wards’ would protect her and her future family from. And telling her that she couldn’t move from her house for the next seventeen years unless she wanted to destabilise those same wards. Any obvious move she made against him would bring his attention upon them, and she was banking on the fact that her non-magicalness made her invisible as it so often had.

(How odd that that which she had loathed the most in her childhood now protected her.)

No, Petunia would simply leave the country and hope he would not notice. She had made more than enough money being Lady Order, the number five pro-hero in the United Kingdom. And she knew how to cover her tracks, had contacts that would help.

Obviously, she’d retire from active duty. Hero business was dangerous, and it would be more than irresponsible to risk her life when Harry was dependent on her.

She eyed the second stack of papers. They were job offers, the kind that top heroes tended to receive and disregard in most cases. Requests from famous people to protect them on a long-term basis. Offers from hero agencies to sign with them.

And job offers from hero schools. She’d already singled one out. It was an old one, already two years old, so probably already expired. But it would be her first choice, if the offer still stood. She even spoke the language, thanks to a friend with a Teaching Quirk.

She dialled the number printed on the paper.

“Good afternoon, this is Evans Petunia. Am I speaking to Principal Nedzu?”

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