Disclaimer: If I owned it, I'd still write fanfiction about it.

Scowling at the image in the mirror, Petunia gingerly touched the skin over her eye, flinching at the pain a mere brushing of fingers caused. It was beginning to bruise.

In hind-sight, she supposed she should've realized long ago where her marriage was headed; Vernon had always had something of a temper, and then he'd started drinking, too.

She let out a sigh. Where had things went wrong? Everything seemed to have improved once Dudley was born – she remembered just how proud her husband had been over his baby son, and everything was okay for a while. Then Li-her sister got killed, and they got Harry. She still couldn't look at the boy properly without getting overrun by a myriad of emotions she didn't want to recognize; it was too easy for her to see her sister in those damnable green eyes of his, despite him only being a couple of years old. She couldn't stand it.

Still, she had taken him in – perhaps because he was her nephew, perhaps because she was a mother – and had decided to raise him with Dudley. Vernon, who'd borne a great dislike for her sister and his husband and their ilk since the first time he met them, had not approved. And now, when he'd proved he had no qualms of raising his hand to her, what would happen when he noticed the children? Petunia dared not think of it.

Unable to look at herself any longer she she slumped down on the toilet-lid, burying her face in her hands. What was she supposed to do now? Vernon owned the house, the car, everything, and all their friends and contacts where his, too. Who was she supposed to turn to? There were a few co-workers she sometimes socialized with, but she really couldn't expect them to help her; she barely knew them, and besides, it would chafe just a bit too much on her pride for her to ask for help.

No, she was alone in this, as she'd always been, and she'd be damned if she didn't get through it alone, too. Strengthened by her new-found resolve, she gave her mirror image a last, determined look, and then left the bathroom in order to act on her impulse before she lost her nerve.

She knew Vernon wouldn't be home for several hours, at least, and if she was quick, that should give her enough time. Wasting no time, she dragged out an old suitcase that had been stuffed into a closet and began collecting the bare necessities; clothes and her toiletries. As she was digging through her closet, she almost accidentally laid her eyes on a plain, brown box, worn with age and quite dusty.

Her heart clenched in her chest. That box, that single little box, contained so much of her past that she had so desperately wanted to forget. She knew that in it, there laid a whole bunch of letters written on parchment, all of them starting with "Dear Tuney." Some of them were unread, but even back then Petunia hadn't quite had the heart to throw them away. The box also contained one of her sister's old books from school, something she'd left behind when she had moved out.

Sighing, Petunia pulled the box out of the closet, and before she could give herself time to think too much about it, she packed it down in the suitcase. She might never look at its contents again, but she didn't want to leave it in Vernon's house.

Having finished packing her own things – which made up a pitifully small amount – she went to Dudley's room, where both Harry and Dudley were napping. She immediately picked out the necessities; clothes for both boys, nappies, a few toys, and two bottles for milk and then packed it into the suitcase with her own things.

Walking back into the boy's room, she looked down at the sleeping toddlers fondly, even though the sight of Harry made dozens of unwanted memories crash down into her mind. Steeling herself, she pushed them away, determined not to let them affect her. She was doing this for their sake; she had to be strong for them now.

She managed to get boys down into the stroller without too much troubles – Dudley was a bit grumpy when he woke up, but that was easily cured with a toy, and Harry was as quiet as ever, simply staring at Petunia with his damn green eyes. She managed to stuff the suitcase down in under the stroller, and then took one last trip through the house, gathering the last things; her jewellery, the old picture of her parents and then, finally, the credit card connected to the savings account she'd started up several years ago with the intention of saving money "just in case."

Actually leaving the house was what she feared the most; she knew at leas three of her neighbours were home, and two of those were close friends of Vernon. The fact that she couldn't take the car – firstly because Vernon had driven it to work, and secondly because she didn't know how to drive – complicated things, but thankfully the bus-stop wasn't far away. The only problem would be actually getting there, preferably without getting noticed.

She walked into the kitchen, trying to look out through her window inconspicuously. She wasn't sure her neighbours would be out at this time of day, but one could never be too certain. While in the kitchen she decided to make a few sandwiches to bring with her, and while she was rummaging through the cupboards she brought out the glass jars of processed baby food, putting them into a bag which she then put under the stroller. The sandwiches where wrapped in plastic and stuffed into her purse.

Now she had nothing more to wait for. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself, she shrugged on her coat, slowly tying the belt around her waist. It didn't look too cold out, but she didn't want to leave it. Taking the boy's jackets as well, she laid them by their feet in the stroller. Dudley immediately reached for them, but Harry just looked at her with a serene expression.

She swallowed nervously. This was it; this was her chance. She wasn't going to get another opportunity. Drawing strength from Harry's calm gaze, she opened the door and pushed the stroller outside. Just to keep up appearances she locked the door after her, and then did her best not to walk too fast as she began to push the stroller towards the bus-stop. She didn't see any of her neighbours outside, but that didn't mean they weren't looking at her through their windows.

Getting to the bus-stop proved easier than she had feared, and no one had stopped her during the way. Once there she realized with relief that she would only have to wait for a few minutes for the bus that would lead her to the train-station. Still, she didn't let herself relax; she wasn't out of danger just quite yet.

The bus arrived, and she got the stroller on with minimal struggles. None of the others riding the bus were people she knew, something she thanked her lucky stars for, and she actually took a moment to appreciate the scenery as the bus made its way to the train-station. Dudley demanded her attention a few times, which she happily gave him, smiling as her son gurgled happily at her. Harry seemed content with watching her and the people around them, never making a noise.

They reached their stop, and Petunia pushed the stroller at a brisk pace towards the ticket booth. She bought a ticket for her and the boys to King's Cross, and they soon found themselves on the train that would take them to their destination. Dudley, who'd grown bored with the entire situation, had fallen asleep, but Harry was still awake, and he was looking at her with his bright, green eyes.

Petunia sighed. "I wish your mother was still alive," she confessed to the boy, surprising herself. She hadn't thought of her sister in years. Frowning, she shook her head. She couldn't rely on a dead woman to fix this mess she'd gotten herself into. Harry kept looking at her as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. Stroking his dark hair with a forlorn smile, she then leaned back in her seat.

Once at King's Cross she was at a loss. Should she stay in London, finding a hotel or bed and breakfast? She quickly discarded the idea of staying; London was too close to Privet Drive, and she didn't dare staying so close to her husband. Blanching a bit at the thought of his reaction when he found out she'd taken the boys and left, she hurried towards the closest ticket office. She didn't care where she went, as long as it was far, far away from Vernon.

To her dismay, however, no trains would take her where she wanted until tomorrow, and with great reluctance she realized she was going to have to find a hotel in London, anyway. It was only for one night, though, she comforted herself, and first thing in the morning she would head back to the station to find herself a train that would take her away.

The hotel she'd found had been perhaps a bit too pricey, but she figured she could allow it this once, being too mentally exhausted to go price-shopping at this time. After having fed the boys – and herself – a simple dinner, she tucked them into the cribs she'd been provided with, kissing them good night.

It was still too early for her to go to bed, so she brought up a map she'd bought earlier, intending to see if she could decide where she was going to head. A few hours later she still hadn't decided, but by then it was late enough to head to bed and she fell down on her pillow dreading the morning.

She checked out from the hotel early next morning, and after a quick breakfast for her and the boys she headed back to King's Cross, where she looked through the train time-tables in an attempt to make up her mind. She was looking through the trains leading towards the northern parts of England, ignoring the other people around her, when she suddenly happened to look up. What she saw on another platform had her hiding behind a large pillar in fear.

Vernon. How could he have found her? No. He hadn't found her. He'd be much louder if he'd found her. She dared a glance around the pillar, but realized he'd disappeared from sight. Had she imagined it?

Steeling herself, she decided it didn't matter whether she'd imagined it or not; it was clearly too dangerous to stay here. She turned around, only to having to stop herself from walking straight into someone. "I'm sorry," she muttered out, taking in the sight of the man. He was more than a head taller than her, broad-chested and broad-shouldered with long grey hair and a wild beard. His blue eyes were filled with amusement.

"Hiding from someone?" His voice was a deep growl.

She drew back from him with a gasp. "That is none of your business," she snapped.

He held up his hands. "No need to get snippy with me, woman," he said. He was still smiling.

She briefly considered slapping him, but refrained – she was in enough trouble already. "What do you want?"

"Who're you hiding from?"

Glaring at him, she pulled the stroller closer to her, making sure to keep herself between them and the man.

He rolled his eyes at her. "I'm not going to touch your cubs, woman."

Wondering at his strange choice of word for the boys, she made sure she was still glaring at him. "What do you want?" she repeated, glancing around to see if anyone were paying them any attention. Thankfully, this part of the platform seemed deserted.

The man noticed what she was doing, of course, which only furthered his curiosity. "I want to know who you're hiding from."

She glared at him. "My husband," she finally admitted, surprising herself. What was she doing, talking to this stranger when she was supposed to find a train to get away? He glanced at the bruise over her eye, and she realized with chagrin that she'd forgotten to hide it.

"Abusive, I take it?"

This had gone on for too long. "It's none of your business. Now if you excuse me, I have a train to catch."

"No you don't. You haven't even bought a ticket." He ignored her indignant gasp and looked down at the two toddlers in her stroller. "He ever hurt 'em?"

"No!" she exclaimed, insulted at the insinuation.

The look he gave her was surprisingly dark. "Good," he said. "Don't let him."

"What do you think I'm doing here in the first place?" She immediately regretted saying it; she was giving him far too much information and wasting far too much time. Vernon could find her any minute.

The man grinned at her, and she realized with a start that he had fangs. "Good girl," he commended her. "Takes guts to get away."

"I won't get anywhere if you don't let me go and find a train!" she pointed out, losing her patience with him.

He held his hands up. "I'm not stopping you," he said with a grin, earning himself a withering glare from the woman. Then, he suddenly fished something up from his coat pocket and held it out to her.

She stared at it, realizing that it was a ticket. A train-ticket.

"Take it."

Her eyes widened. "I couldn't," she protested. Why was he doing this?

"Take it."

She took it, realizing that her hand was trembling. "Are you sure?"

"'Course I'm sure," he scoffed. "Wouldn't do it otherwise."

"Thank you," she said earnestly, clutching the ticket to her chest. Things were turning out better than she'd ever hoped; this way no one would know where she'd gone. Except him.

"You should probably get on," he said, nodding towards the train that had rolled into the platform during their exchange. "Wouldn't want yer husband to find you, would you?"

That certainly got her moving. With the stranger's help she got the stroller on board the train, and she followed after it, turning in the door. "Why are you doing this?" she asked, momentarily turning around to make sure the boys were okay.

"It's always fun to fool around with muggles."

Her eyes widened. "You're a wizard!?" she spluttered as she turned around, but to her great surprise there was no one there; the stranger had vanished.

It hadn't taken her long to find her seat, and she'd even been lucky enough to have a compartment for herself and the boys, something she greatly appreciated. A few hours into the train ride she enjoyed a simple lunch with her toddlers, letting them play around on the floor a bit before settling them down for their nap. She wasn't sure where the train would take her, but she was determined to take it as far as it could go.

In the end she ended up in a small town on the border to Scotland, where she took in on a small hostel. The owner, a plump lady, had been completely taken by her boys, going out of her way to make sure the boys had everything they needed. Normally Petunia would've disliked such behavior, but for once she was grateful; it spared her a lot of trouble.

She spent the next few days going over her choices, which she realized where pitifully few. She didn't have an infinite supply of money, and since she had no job she wasn't going to be able to find somewhere proper to live. Sighing, she wondered if maybe she hadn't been too hasty in her decision to leave; she'd effectively tied her own hands. Still, there was no going back now – the thought of returning to Vernon and his reactions was enough to make her sick. She knew, however, that she was going to have to come up with a solution soon, as soon as possibly, before she completely ran out of options.

A few days later she had finally built up her nerve; she was going to file for a divorce, and she was going to do her damned best to make sure Vernon never saw hide nor hair of the boys again. She couldn't risk it, not any longer. She knew she'd have no problems making that a reality for Harry – she'd always been his listed guardian, as Vernon had refused – but it might be hard concerning Dudley. Vernon was his biological father, after all, and she knew that would work against them should it ever lead that far.

A solicitor in town helped her file her divorce, and the moment she was done she went down into town to find herself a job. She'd quit her old one the moment she arrived to the little town, and she knew that if she was going to have any chance to start a new life for her and the boys here she was going to need a proper job. Cooing at Dudley, who was pointing at a group of birds in excitement, she led the stroller back to the hostel after an afternoon of job-hunting. She hadn't had any luck, but she wasn't going to give up now.

A few days later she'd managed to get herself a job as a secretary in a small office. They pay wasn't great, but it was enough, and her new boss didn't mind that she brought the boys with her to work until she could find a good baby-sitter. Even better, no one asked what she was doing living on her own with two toddlers, something she was very grateful for.

Now, with a steady income, she finally managed to find an apartment that wasn't too run down for her and the boys. She still hadn't found a baby-sitter, but she wasn't too worried about that just yet. She'd gotten them the most important parts, and she was beginning to relax into her new life, confident that things would work out.

At least she hoped things would work out.

Later that week she was reminded of yet another reason why it had been in her best interests to leave Vernon. She'd just eaten dinner and was putting the reluctant boys to bed, kissing them good night. Dudley complained loudly, but quieted down the moment he got his pacifier, and she turned around to make sure Harry was settling in properly as well. Her heart jumped in her chest at the sight, her eyes widening to almost comical proportions.

Harry was floating just above his crib, looking at her smugly with his brilliant green eyes. Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself, pushing away memories of how Lil-her sister had used to do weird things, she then collected the boy into her arms, kissing his forehead. She'd always known the child would be magical like his parents, and the brief thought she spared on imagining Vernon's reaction had he been the one finding the boy levitating instead of sleeping made her clutch the boy tighter to her chest. She still hadn't gotten over her estrangement from her sister, but she was not going to let anything happen to Lily's son.

Harry refrained from keeping to float out of his crib, but Petunia noticed that other things started to gather inside his crib, instead, when she came to collect him in the mornings; one time he'd gathered all his and Dudley's toys in there – much to Dudley's dismay – and another time he'd given himself the bag of unused nappies. Once he'd even put Dudley in his own crib, and Petunia just couldn't find it in herself to be cross with the boy. Dudley had, of course, been very confused at waking up in his cousin's crib rather than his own, but Petunia had easily calmed him down with breakfast. Harry had just looked smug as he ate his own breakfast.

They settled in nicely the next few days, getting used to the pace of their new lives. Petunia would head to work each morning, bringing the boys with her, and during lunch she would head down to a nearby restaurant that didn't mind her two toddlers. Then, in the afternoon when she finished up with her work, she'd take the boys home, cook them some dinner, and then read them stories or let them watch TV with her until it was time for them to head to bed. She would stay up a few hours longer before heading to bed herself. It was a simple, comfortable life.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem as if she was going to get to keep it as simple. Her solicitor called her with information about her divorce, telling her what she'd feared from the beginning; Vernon was not going to let her and the boys go without a fight. She was surprised when the solicitor told her her husband wanted custody over Harry. Why on earth would Vernon want a child he'd so often loudly disliked? A feeling of unease settled into her stomach.

Her unease stayed with her throughout the rest of the week, and when weekend arrived she was a nervous wreck. The toddlers noticed it, of course, and as she was putting the boys to bed on the Friday she turned to yet again find Harry levitating over his bed. He didn't look quite as smug as the first time, however, and just looked at her with his eyes that so reminded her of her sister.

Sighing, she collected the boys into her arms, burying her face into his messy hair. "You're right, Harry," she mumbled to the boy. "It's been getting ridiculous, hasn't it?" The boy didn't answer. "Know what? How about you, me and Dudley head down to the park tomorrow? Doesn't that sound like a nice idea?"

The boy looked up at her with a serious expression and nodded sagely, making her chuckle.

"Now it's nighty-night time for you, sweetie," she said, tucking him back into bed.

The next morning Petunia came into their room only to realize that he'd levitated Dudley into his crib again.

Dressing the boys up for the slightly chilly weather, Petunia then loaded them into the stroller. Putting the lunch she'd made for them under the stroller, they then set off towards the park. It was a ten minute walk from their apartment to the park, and once they arrived the boys were practically shaking in their seats, eager to get down to explore. Smiling at them, she set them down on the ground and let them walk down the small path, keeping a close eye on them. The boys tottered around, stopping every now and then to chat excitedly – Dudley chatted, Harry just nodded or shook his head – or to examine any interesting looking rocks.

Petunia still couldn't quite push her worries away from her mind, but she tried her best to only focus on the boys, right there and then, instead of worrying about their uncertain futures. It worked well enough, and soon the boys were starting to tire from all the excitement of exploring a park. Smiling, she put them back into the stroller with the promise that they'd find somewhere to eat their lunch.

Being so caught in her own mind and in talking with her boys, she didn't notice him until she nearly walked into him. "I'm sorry," she apologized, and then her eyes widened as she set her eyes on the man. "You!"

It was the man from the train-station. He looked just as surprised as she felt. "What're you doing here?"

She blinked at him. "I could ask you the same thing. I live here."

His eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "Here of all places?"

She shrugged. "It's better than where I came from," she pointed out defencively.

He didn't argue with her. Instead, he looked down at the boys, both who were looking up at him curiously. Or, rather, Dudley looked curious. Harry looked as if he might start levitating again. Petunia sincerely hoped he wouldn't. That one might be hard to explain.

"I never got to thank you for the ticket," she suddenly said, surprising herself – something she'd gotten into the habit of doing lately.

He shrugged. "You don't need to," he assured her, looking away from the boys to look at her. "It was my pleasure."

She thought of the conversation they'd had just before he'd vanished. "Because it's fun to mess with muggles, isn't it?" She couldn't stop the bitterness that crept into her voice.

He snorted. "Don't tell me you're one of those muggle-lovers."

"I am a muggle." She hated using the term; had hated it ever since Lily had explained to her what it meant.

"They aren't," he said, nodding towards the boys.

She glared at him. "Dudley is."

He looked down at her blonde son, and for a brief moment she wondered how he knew which one of the boys was Dudley. He sniffed the air. "No he isn't."

She drew back in shock. The thought that she'd bear a magical child had never even struck her. "How do you know that!?" she demanded.

"I can smell it."

She frowned at him. Surely that couldn't be possible, even for a wizard? She was about to say something, but realized to her horror that Harry was beginning to float up out of the stroller. Reacting quickly she picked the boy up, hoping that the stranger hadn't noticed anything. To her dismay, he had; he laughed.

"Accidental magic from a toddler? Geesh, no wonder the kid managed to off old Moldyshorts."

She turned around to stare at him, fear pooling in her stomach as she realized that the stranger knew who her nephew was. She tightened her hold on the boy, pulling the stroller away from the man at the same time. "What do you want from us?"

"Calm down, woman," he told her, giving her an annoyed look. "I'm not interested in your cubs." There was something odd about the way he said that, apart from the odd choice of word, but she couldn't quite put her fingers on what it was.

"How did you know who he was?"

He gave her a look. "Woman, there's not a witch or wizard in Britain who doesn't know who he is. He's their bloody saviour."

She frowned at him. "'Their saviour'? You're a wizard, aren't you? Doesn't that make him your saviour, too?" She didn't like talking about Harry this way – it reminded her too much of just why her sister had been killed.

"I'm not one of them."

"So you're not a wizard?" Why, then, had he been talking about muggles?

"I never said that."

He was confusing her, and she had never liked being confused. "What do you mean, then?"

Grinning at her, he didn't answer her question. Instead, he looked down at Dudley, who said something to him in baby-talk.

"Look," Petunia said in exasperation, "I appreciate how you've helped us, I really do -"

"But?" He grinned at her.

She pursed her lips at him. "I have no idea who you are, and quite frankly I'm not sure I want you near my boys." She didn't mention that she didn't want him near her, either; he frightened her with his wild looks and fangs. What kind of person had fangs, wizard or not?

He actually had the audacity to laugh at her. "Most parents don't want me near their cubs," he said with an unpleasant grin. "Out of curiosity, how come a muggle like you are in charge of the saviour?" He said the words 'muggle' and 'saviour' as if they were profanity.

"Why do you ask?"

"As I said, curiosity."

Frowning at him, she tightened her grip on Harry again. "Just who are you?"

He grinned at her, and to her surprise he held out his hand. "Name's Fenrir," he said. "Fenrir Greyback."

A/N: Hahahaa, whoops. No, I've not given up on Runaway - that'll never happen - but this story wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it down. Now I've written it down, and it still won't leave me alone. Anyway, Fenrir (or Henri Bareback, as spell-check suggests) is, as you might have noticed, quite OOC, as is Petunia, which is something you'll just have to live with as this is fanfiction. Ahem. Anyway, I hope you all like it!