Petunia and the Little Monster

August 1974

Petunia just huffed and tried to banish the butterflies from her stomach that had sprung to life as soon as Eugene's skin touched hers. It was ridiculous - they had kissed often and once Petunia had even touched Eugene's naked back, so simply holding hands should inspire no excitement whatsoever. But no matter how often she told herself that, her fingers still tickled and her eyes ghosted to their clasped hands every few breaths as if she wanted to make sure they were still holding onto each other.

Eugene had nice hands, Petunia had long decided. Broad palms, long fingers, square nails and small calluses that slightly scratched against her soft skin. When they engulfed her own it was one of the very few times in her life Petunia, always taller than her peers by at least half a head, felt petite. And she liked that feeling.

She'd been so distracted by the hand-holding and consequent butterfly-squashing that she only realised that they had reached the end of the low hill when suddenly there were other people around, the low murmur of many voices intruding into Petunia's quiet bubble of content.

The first thing Petunia noticed about them was the ridiculous fashion. She hadn't come into contact with wizarding society after her first and only outing to Diagon Alley and she had almost forgotten that they apparently liked to dress either with fashion that was fifty years out of style or in colourful constructs that included ostrich feathers and dangling bells. Now the impression of court jesters was only intensified by the white and blue paint on their faces, apparently displaying loyalty for one of the playing teams. Petunia spotted one black-haired woman whose face-paint slithered across her skin in blue bands that reminded Petunia of swimming eels.

"What team are they cheering on?"

Eugene chuckled. "Impossible to tell unless they're sporting a flag, today's match is between Scotland and Greece, and their national colours are the same. Quite convenient if you think about it - whatever team wins, they can just claim they were cheering them on from the beginning."

Petunia hid a small smile and let her eyes continue wandering around. The more she looked, the more she noticed something strange - people peppered throughout who didn't fit into the crowd. They wore black robes, no paint and stern expressions, watching the colourful crowd like they were a squawking flock of unruly chickens. Petunia couldn't quite decide if the black-dressed wizards were the guard dogs or the foxes in that scenario. They made an uncomfortable shiver crawl down her spine and Petunia quickly looked away before one of them caught her staring.

Maybe she wasn't the only one who was unnerved by their presence. While the crowd around her mingled and wore their ridiculous outfits with pride, they somehow appeared subdued. There weren't any raised voices, neither in cheer nor in conflict. Petunia couldn't see any magic anywhere, not even something as small as a floating luggage or a sparkling wand. And considering that Eugene had told her that Quidditch was the wizard equivalent of soccer she was a bit surprised at the low number of people. She had expected to be swamped in a mass, but the way between the tents was free, not enough people around to clog walkways or do more than form small groups.

The low number of people also meant that it was easy to spot a flame of red hair coming their way, poking out between all the blues surrounding them, long before the body it was attached to reached them.

"Gene! There you are, I was worried you would miss the Opening Ceremony, the others have already gone to the stadium" Bilius stopped in front of them, giving a shining smile to Eugene before his blue eyes flickered to their clasped hands and finally up to Petunia. "Hello, Petunia."

"Bilius."

If Eugene sensed the aloofness in her tone, he didn't show it. Instead his grin widened and he clasped Bilius' shoulder in greeting, though Petunia was pleased that he didn't let go of her in the process. "Billy! How've you been?"