Chapter 6 – Four Owls, A Thousand Miles

If I could fall

Into the sky

Do you think time

Would pass us by

‘Cause you know I’d walk

a thousand miles if I could just

See you…tonight

Vanessa Carlton, A Thousand Miles

A/N: A big thanks to my beta Z, she ROX’s! Also to my British beta Soupytwist (she really makes me a better writer). I borrowed heavily from “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them” for this. The Lethifold description is directly from there. There’s another quote challenge in this chapter. One quote from “The Wizard of Oz” and one from Disney’s “The Emporer’s New Groove”. First one to find them and e-mail me at alatmig@netzero.net gets a cameo in a future chapter. Professor Longbottom’s affinity for sugar quills is a nod to Circee’s excellent fic, “With Quill in Trembling Hand”. If you have not read that fic, go do so now (wait! write a review first! hehe). It is a classic and a guaranteed tearjerker! Individual response to reader’s questions/comments at the end of the fic. This chapter is dedicated to all of those reviewers who asked for Harry. Oh yes, Petra’s family owl, Thor got a sex change: he is now Thora. Hildigunner knows why! Enjoy!

Petra received several owls over the following week. The first one was from her uncle George.

Dear Pickles (just kidding!)

I can’t thank you enough for the publicity you’ve given us on the Flatulent Fritters! The orders have started pouring in since you gave them to Billy Boy and the Snape kid. That was a stroke of genius, that was! We can barely keep up with the orders. We’ve come up with a slogan for them too. Flatulent Fritters: they’re a real gas! What do you think? Just a note of warning though. Billy Boy is out for your blood, so watch your back!

Your Favorite Uncle

George

Petra hardly needed George’s warning about Billy. She had been careful to avoid Billy as much as possible after the Fritter Incident. Not that he could do much to her with the threat of Beauxbatons over his head, but he had been shooting death glares at her for days. Petra had received a detention out of it from Professor Longbottom. It seemed that the first year Gryffindor boys’ dormitory had been in an absolute uproar after Billy and Colin had eaten the fritters. Apparently, not only did eating the fritters cause the person to emit explosive, foul smelling gasses, they also propelled the eater forward with each blast. The results were that the boys’ dorm had had to be evacuated due to the smell and the destruction that Colin and Billy had caused from flying about the room. When Professor Longbottom had gone up to the dorm to see what all the noise was about, Colin had immediately blamed Petra. Longbottom asked to see her in his office the next morning.

“Good morning, Miss Weasley,” said Longbottom cordially. “Please have a seat.” It was the first time she had ever been in Professor Longbottom’s office. She took a seat and looked about the small, cozy room filled with various magical plants. Petra noticed a large jar of sugar quills on a corner of his desk.

“Would you like one?” he asked, tipping the jar towards her. She shook her head politely. “Mind if I do?” Again, Petra shook her head. “I find sugar quills to be most comforting so I always keep a supply on my desk.” He placed the tip of the quill in his mouth and closed his eyes briefly. “They’re my favorite,” he declared, laying the candy aside. He looked at Petra suddenly as though he had forgotten she was there. “Oh! Now, why are you here again, Miss Weasley?”

“You asked me to come because of the incident with my cousin Billy,” Petra reminded him.

“Ah yes, the Flatulent Fritters.” He looked at Petra sternly, yet his eyes retained an amused spark. “Now, I’m going to assume that you got this treat from your uncles’ shop in Hogsmeade, yes?”

“Yes sir.”

“I’ve been a victim of your uncles’ pranks myself so I know that the affects of the treats are usually temporary and generally harmless. However, the fact remains that there was quite a bit of damage done to the first-year boys’ dorm. The house-elves had to work overtime to clean it up and elf wages being what they are, this whole incident was quite expensive. Do you understand?”

Petra nodded guiltily.

“You will be serving a detention with Professor Snape tonight. He just received a shipment of Streeler venom and needs assistance bottling it. You are to report to the dungeons at eight o’clock tonight. That is all.” Petra got up and turned to go. She stopped suddenly as Professor Longbottom called out, “Oh, and Petra, since you’re doing so well in your studies, I don’t think this incident warrants a letter to your mum. Although, I’m sure your uncles would be quite pleased to hear about it.”

Petra smiled.

****

She was not smiling during detention with Snape however. It wasn’t so much that he was in a foul mood, although he was. He started off the night with an admonishment to Petra.

“Miss Weasley, in the future, I would appreciate it if you did not engage Colin in your silly pranks, especially if they involve any of your uncles’ ridiculous concoctions.”

No, Snape’s sarcastic comment was not what bothered her the most about the detention. It was the fact that bottling Streeler venom was nasty, slimy, tedious work. After her second hour of handling the little slug-like creatures, Petra could hardly keep her eyes open, she was so bored. Professor Snape must have taken pity on her because he came over to help her as she started on her third batch.

“Almost there, Miss Weasley,” he said in a much gentler voice than the one he used in the classroom.

“Yes,” she answered, struck by the strangeness of working with Snape side by side.

“You may leave after we finish this batch.” Snape looked at her as he extracted the Streeler venom. “You seem tired,” he observed.

Petra panicked, knowing that her tiredness was a result of the potion preparation. “Classes are very challenging this year, sir. I’ve been staying up late with all my extra studying. Especially with my hero essay.” That was almost true.

“Indeed?” asked Snape with raised eyebrow. “And which one of your illustrious uncles have you chosen to write about?”

Petra looked up at him, wondering if he was being sarcastic. It was hard to tell with Snape sometimes. “I didn’t choose any of my uncles. I chose my father.”

They worked in silence for several seconds before Snape answered, “He was a good man, your father. I worked with him in the Order. Very brave.”

“P-professor Snape,” Petra began. “May I ask you a question?”

“You may,” answered Snape curtly. “However I cannot guarantee that I’ll answer it. You must understand that for those of us that were in the war, it isn’t something that most of us like to think about. In reality, some of us spend half a lifetime trying to forget.”

The question ‘how did my father die?’ dried up in Petra’s throat. She cast about quickly for a question, any question, to ask. “Was my father good at Potions?”

Snape looked quite relieved. He flashed Petra one of his rare grins. “Excellent.”

****

The second owl was from her mum and came with their family owl, Thora.

Dear Petra.

I couldn’t send Hermes as he’s been a bit under the weather. Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be fine soon. I received an owl from your uncle Ron recently. It seems that you two had an argument of sorts at George’s. While I agree with you that it’s none of his business whether you have a partner for the ball or not, (Gareth Snape?!) it is not okay for you to talk back to your elders. That is not how I raised you! Your uncle feels badly about your argument. I know it’s hard to get along with him these days. But believe me, he really loves you.

I’ve ordered your contact lenses and I should be sending them to you by the end of the week. Dave and the kids say hello. Take care darling.

Love,

Mum

Petra was most grateful to hear about the contact lenses. She had gotten many rude comments about her glasses. Damien’s comments were the hardest to bear. She couldn’t help feeling annoyed with herself for being hurt by his teasing. It was just Damien after all. They had been friends for as long as Petra could remember. These days, however, the preparation of the Vox de Morte potion was wearing her nerves thin in every way. Gareth, Petra and Damien had taken to meeting in the broom shed every day after Petra’s Quidditch practice. The cauldron in which they were preparing the potion was hidden away in Petra’s locker, simmering over a self-contained, smokeless fire. The Lethifold skin had to be stewed for a week to make it edible. Petra shuddered every time she had to stir the potion. Only the thought of speaking to her father resolved her to drinking such a foul concoction. She started having nightmares as well. In her dream she was running through a great, stone maze. She was desperate to get to the end because her father was waiting there. However, she kept running into dead ends. It seemed like she had run a thousand miles, but she still couldn’t get to him. Petra always awoke from these dreams drenched in sweat and cold with fear.

Damien was growing increasingly agitated as well. Some of his comments about her glasses bordered on rude. In private, Gareth and Petra worried about Damien. He was obsessed with the making of the potion, checking on it every chance he got. Dark circles formed under his brown eyes from sneaking out of his dorm late at night to check on it as well. When Petra voiced her concern, Damien turned on Petra angrily saying he was descended from the great Seer Parvati, and surely if he was in danger, he would’ve sensed it. Besides, he had already consulted the Orb about it and it had foretold his success. Petra and Gareth exchanged worried looks behind his back. Petra had not taken Divination, having chosen Arithmancy instead, but even she knew that it was generally not advised to consult the Orb for yourself. With a very heavy heart, Petra continued, figuring that if she could at least get some answers from her dad, it would all be worth it.

Petra’s feelings about the potion took a turn for the worse during her first Defense Against the Dark Arts class that week. Petra had just slid into her usual seat when Professor Lupin announced that they would be having a guest speaker. Everyone looked up, interested. Although Professor Lupin was an excellent instructor, having a speaker was always a welcome change of pace.

“Our guest will be arriving shortly,” said Lupin, rubbing his hands together as he gazed around the class. “We’re in for a real treat, ladies and gentleman.” He turned to the covered holding tank behind him and yanked off the sheet that was hiding it from view. “The next dark creature that we’ll be studying is the Lethifold.”

“That’s our treat?” asked Mauve, who was sitting beside Petra. The class laughed nervously at Mauve’s question as they gazed upon the large, dark cloak-like creature in the containment.

Lupin smiled indulgently at Mauve. “No, Ms. Finnigan, this is most definitely not your treat. But our speaker is. He will be teaching us the most effective way to fight off the Lethifold.” He circled the holding tank as he lectured. “The Lethifold is a mercifully rare creature found solely in the tropics. As you can see, it resembles a black cloak perhaps half an inch thick, although it would be quite a bit thicker if it had recently killed and digested a victim.” Several people shuddered. “Now, who can tell me what is the only spell known to repel a Lethifold?”

Few people raised their hands among them Petra. Lupin smiled kindly at her. “Miss Weasley?”

“The Patronus Charm,” answered Petra.

“Correct,” said Lupin. “Five points for Gryffindor. Now the Patronus Charm was used extensively in the late nineties when Dementors were still in existence. Does anyone know why this might be?”

“Because,” said Keith McAllister, “Dementors were demons who used the Lethifold as a shroud.”

“Excellent,” beamed Lupin. “Another five points. Yes, Dementors were derived from the Lethifold: as such, the Patronus worked on them as well. Of course, Dementors are no longer in existence having been destroyed after the war. However the Lethifold is and it is commonly used as a substance in various potions, many of them Dark in nature.”

Petra shifted guiltily in her seat.

“For this reason,” continued Lupin, “It is important to learn the Patronus Charm as a precaution. Our guest today is considered an expert at the Patronus Charm as well as other things.” Lupin glanced at Petra briefly. “He may be quite familiar to some of you.”

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Lupin pulled the door open and announced, “Class, may I introduce our very special guest lecturer, Mr. Harry Potter.”

****

Petra was surprised, yet pleased to see her uncle Harry. It turned out that he would be staying at the castle for a few days to demonstrate the Patronus to several of Professor Lupin’s classes. Petra was very fond of Harry, who was married to their aunt Ginny. He was a favorite among all of the Weasley nieces and nephews. He was a retired Quidditch player who had once played Seeker for the Chudley Cannons shortly after the war. Now he worked at home, writing children’s stories. His tales of magical adventures were famous all over the globe. He even had a following in the Muggle world, although his stories were considered fairy tale there of course. Aunt Ginny was a racing broom charmer for Firebolt Unlimited. The Potters had five children: Lance, the oldest, was seven. Three girls followed him: six-year-old Rose, four-year-old Daisy, and two-year-old Heather. Daniel, the baby, was only seven months. They lived in the village of Ottery St. Catchpole, close to the Burrow. The fact that Harry was a stay-at-home dad was something that his brother-in-laws often teased him about. Harry, however, didn’t seem to mind.

It was nice to see uncle Harry at the staff table during meals. He was always chatting with Aunt Hermione and the other teachers. In between classes, Harry took the time to seek out Billy and Petra to ask how their school year was going. He even came out to watch one of Petra’s Inter-house practice sessions with Oliver Wood. Apparently, Harry could sympathize very much with Petra about Wood’s vigorous training sessions.

Uncle Harry brought Petra a gift. It was an old newspaper clipping from the Daily Profit. The clipping contained an article about her grandfather Weasley winning the newspaper’s Grand Prize Galleon Draw. It also showed a photograph of the whole Weasley family; her grandparents, her father, five uncles and aunt Ginny. Her father looked quite smug in the picture with his head boy badge glinting in the photographic sun. Petra thought the clipping must be falling apart with age because there was a tiny tear in the picture, right above her uncle Ron’s shoulder. Uncle Harry also talked to Petra briefly about her essay, mostly reiterating what the rest of the Weasleys had said. However, he said something that stuck in Petra’s mind.

“You know Petra, I know exactly how you feel about your Dad. I grew up without my parents, you know. But a wise man once told me that the dead we loved never truly leave us. We recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble. He also said that my father was alive in me and showed himself plainly when I had need of him.”

“Was he right?” asked Petra.

“Always,” said Harry with conviction.

****

The third owl came a few days later bearing a large, gift-wrapped parcel. There was a note in her uncle Ron’s hand on top of the package which warned her not to open the gift until she was in her dorm. When Petra opened the package, she gasped in shock.

Dear Petra,
I wanted to apologize for our little argument. It’s difficult for me to accept that you’re growing up so fast. Although I still think you’re a bit young for dating (Gareth Snape?!!), I’m sorry I reacted so badly. Please accept this gift as an apology. I always wanted one when I was young. Your uncle Harry had one though, and we had a lot of fun with it. Not that I’m encouraging any rule-breaking with it, mind you! Just thought it might be nice for you to have one. Please forgive me Petra.

Uncle Ron

Petra marveled at the cool, fluid material of the Invisibility Cloak. Although she knew that her uncle could afford it, it was still an extravagant gift. Not only were the cloaks expensive, they were quite rare as well. She laid the cloak in her trunk, confused by her uncle’s behavior. Torn between admiration and exasperation, she slammed the lid on the trunk and forgot about it.

****

The fourth owl was from her mum again. Petra was studying in the Gryffindor common room when it arrived. She spotted Hermes fluttering outside a window and let him in immediately.

“Finally!” exclaimed Petra as Hermes swooped in with a small box clutched in his claws, “My contacts!” She sighed with relief practically wanting to tear her glass off then and there. However, before she could reach the owl to untie the package, it began to falter, growing weaker and weaker under the burden of its tiny package. It finally stopped in midair and spiraled down towards a table where a group of first years were working on their Charms homework. It landed in front of Billy.

“Oh Hermes!” cried Petra, exasperated. She moved towards the first years’ table, but before she could reach it, Billy snatched the small package from Hermes’ claws. The color drained from Petra’s face at Billy’s smirk as he tossed the package up and down in one hand.

“So,” he said, drawing out the word. “What’s this, cousin?”

Petra tried her best to act casual. “Oh those are just my contact lenses I expect.”

Billy’s smirk widened into a full-blown evil grin. “So you can stop wearing those glasses now, huh?”

“I suppose,” said Petra with a dismissive shrug. “So, uh…can I have them now?”

“Hmmm…” Billy scrunched up his brow as if deep in thought. “I dunno,” he said slowly, “I’ve grown quite fond of the glasses. Perhaps you should wear them for another week.”

“What?” asked Petra going pale again.

“Yes, a week sounds right to me,” piped Colin who was also sitting at the table. Billy tucked the little box into his pocket.

Petra saw red. “William Albus Weasley, you give me that package now!”

“Come and get it!”

Petra’s wand lay forgotten on the table as she chased Billy around the common room, knocking books off tables and upsetting chairs. Colin and the rest of the first year boys cheered Billy on. Billy made for the boys’ staircase.

“I’m going to kill you!” screamed Petra in frustration, although she managed to block his path off before he made it to the stairs.

“Uh, uh, uh,” said Billy maddeningly as he stumbled towards the portrait hole. “You’ll never make prefect that way cousin.”

Petra scrambled out of the common room after him, heedless of the fact that they were out after hours. Her frustration grew as she chased him down staircases and empty corridors. By some brilliant stroke of luck they did not run into anybody.

“You heartless bastard!” cried Petra as Billy ducked out of her reach. He stuck his tongue out and ducked into a room slamming the door in her face. Petra pushed the door open and followed him through. “I hate you!”

“Ah!” said Billy sarcastically, clutching at his chest. “Now I know I have a heart, ‘cause it’s breaking.”

“Wait!” Petra stopped abruptly, looking around the room. Billy froze. They were in a large paneled room filled with dark, wooden chairs. Petra’s heart sank all the way down to her toes. “You great, stupid prat! Do you realize what room we’re in?” she asked shrilly.

Billy took a quick look around the room before he turned back to Petra, his eyes wide with horror. “The staff room!” he croaked.

“I can’t believe you made me run in here!” moaned Petra.

“Me?” asked Billy, his voice squeaking with indignation. “You’re the one that made me eat those ruddy Farty Fritters!”

“I didn’t make you do anything,” spat Petra. “You ate them of your own accord.”

“I trusted you,” Billy whined.

Petra crossed her arms over her chest. “Well that makes you ugly and stupid.”

Billy’s face turned much darker than his strawberry blond hair. He opened and closed his mouth several times, apparently too furious to think of an answer.

“Shut up!” Petra cut him off. “Now give me my package so we can get out of here before we get in trouble.”

No sooner were the words out of her mouth when they heard the doorknob rattle.

“Oh no! Oh no! Oh no!” whispered Petra.

Billy looked so alarmed that even his hair seemed to be standing on end. “The wardrobe!” he hissed, grabbing Petra’s arm and dragging her towards the large wardrobe where the teachers kept their cloaks. They squeezed in and shut the door, peeking through the slots. Billy barely suppressed a groan as their uncle Harry and aunt Hermione walked in and flung themselves into two armchairs by the fireplace.

“It’s great to be back, isn’t it?” they heard Harry ask as he leaned back in his chair.

Hermione looked tense despite the smile she flashed at Harry. “You could make this a full-time deal you know. Just say the word and McGonagall would give you a position in a heartbeat.”

“Nah,” said Harry with a contented grin. “I like staying at home with the sproglets. That’s why Ginny’s the one working the full time.”

Hermione shook her head admiringly. “I can’t believe you lot have five children! Honestly Harry, don’t you two know about the Contraceptus Charm?”

Petra felt Billy writhing with embarrassment next to her in the closet. She couldn’t blame them. It was deeply disturbing to think about old people and sex.

“Ginny and I always wanted a big family. Besides,” he said with a fond smile, “I love being a dad.”

Hermione flinched. “I wish Ron did,” she said in a quavering voice.

“Hermione, no matter what happened between you two, Ron loves Hillary...”

She leaned forward suddenly, choking on a sob.

“Hermione!” said Harry with concern. He patted her hand. “What happened Hermione? I’ve never asked about your break up because it’s not my place. But I’m your best friend and Ron’s and you know you can count on me for anything.”

Hermione nodded, sniffling. “Penny knows about it. But Ron didn’t want anybody else in the family to know and that includes you.” Harry nodded sympathetically. “But I just can’t bear it anymore Harry, I just can’t!”

Harry squeezed her hand gently. “Tell me,” he said.

“It started three years ago. Just after Hillary was born. You know, when the Ministry released the War Files and we found out about Percy.”

Petra tensed at the sound of her father’s name.

“I knew he took it hard,” said Harry, “but I thought he had dealt with it like the rest of us. It was Percy’s choice after all.”

Hermione sighed heavily. “I thought he was finally over it as well until Hillary was born.” She wiped at her tears haphazardly. “Harry, it was like he couldn’t enjoy her because Percy didn’t get a chance to enjoy Petra. He said it wasn’t fair that he had everything Percy had ever wanted: fame, the high-ranking position in the Ministry, money and now even a little girl.”

Petra slid silently to the bottom of the closet, too shocked to care whether they heard the thump as she sat down. They didn’t.

“But…but that’s irrational!” stammered Harry.

“Exactly! That’s why I asked him to leave. I love Petra very much, but Hillary deserved Ron’s attention as well.”

“Of course,” murmured Harry.

Hermione drew a handkerchief from her pocket and blew her nose. “And I couldn’t talk to anyone about it besides Penny. Can you imagine how much this would hurt Molly, to bring all of that back?”

Harry straightened up in his chair. “You could’ve talked to me. I would’ve tried to reason with him.”

“Heavens no!” exclaimed Hermione. “He’s still in denial about the whole thing. You know that he’s forbidden everyone in the family from talking to Petra about Percy’s death. He said as Petra’s godfather it’s his place to do it, but he wants to wait until he thinks she can handle it.”

“At this rate, she won’t know until she’s fifty!” said Harry.

“I know,” responded Hermione, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. “And so help me, I promised him I wouldn’t talk to Petra about it either. I’ve even lied to her about having books on Percy in the school library.”

“This is ridiculous!” exclaimed Harry, running his hand helplessly through his black hair. “It can’t go on like this forever.”

“No it can’t,” agreed Hermione. “Because Penny is fed up and she’s given him an ultimatum; he has to tell Petra soon or she will.”

“Do you think he will?” asked Harry hopefully.

Hermione cocked her head to the side, eyes awash with fresh tears. “I don’t know.”

A/N’s2:

RogueAngel: now you see what H/G have been up to? ;)

Aly Teima: I loved the way you described teenagers. You are so right!

Harpinred (Monique!): cosmic/poetic justice! I like that.

Hannah Abbot: yes, you got me there. Angelina was the flying coach when Petra started Hogwarts in “ILaB”. However, she has since quit to be a stay at home mum. Can you imagine how much attention children of Fred Weasley need?!! ;)