Chapter 16
The chill of the autumn air enveloped James Potter and Sirius Black as they made their way to the Ministry building, the weight of their mission heavy upon them. "Can you believe this?" James muttered, his breath forming a cloud in the frosty air. "A Lestrange marrying a Muggle? It’s almost too good to be true."
Sirius grinned, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “It’s not just good; it’s downright scandalous. Imagine the looks on their faces, especially Rabastan Lestrange. I heard his pride is downright ugly.”
They both chuckled, the absurdity of the situation lifting their spirits. With a shared glance, they slid beneath the familiar folds of the Invisibility Cloak, their hearts racing with excitement and a hint of apprehension. “Remember, we’re here to protect the Muggle bride,” Sirius said, a mock-serious tone in his voice.
“Right, right,” James replied, suppressing a laugh. “Because we’re such expert protectors of Muggles.”
As they stealthily blended into the crowd of elegantly dressed guests, the atmosphere pulsed with anticipation. The venue was adorned with opulent decorations, a stark contrast to the dark intentions lurking beneath the surface. They waited patiently as the ceremony commenced, their eyes fixed on the front.
Finally, the bride appeared, radiating beauty in a stunning mermaid wedding dress. The crowd hushed as Cornelius Fudge began to speak, offering the bride, Petunia Noel Evans, to Rabastan Lestrange. When the priest exchanged vows, James and Sirius’s expressions turned to shock at the mention of the bride’s name. “Petunia Evans?” they whispered simultaneously, their minds racing.
“Could it be…?” James mused, his brow furrowed.
“Is that—?” James began, but the priest's voice interrupted the moment.
“Do you, Rabastan Lestrange, take Petunia Noel Evans to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
Both boys froze, their laughter vanishing into stunned silence. “Petunia Noel Evans?” Sirius repeated in disbelief. “As in Lily’s sister?”
James nodded, looking confused. “But it can’t be! Petunia’s—well, Petunia’s not…”
Just then, the veil was lifted, revealing an incredibly beautiful woman. “That’s not her,” James sighed in relief. “It’s not her.” Sirius then stirred and said, “For a second there, I thought it was that Petunia—thank Merlin it’s not Lily’s sister.”
Just as they were processing this revelation, the doors burst open, and Lucius Malfoy strutted in, flanked by his Death Eater entourage. A chilling air settled over the gathering. Rabastan and Petunia began their slow dance, but she seemed distant, her gaze wandering.
“Are you alright, wife?” Rabastan inquired, irritation lacing his voice. “You seem a little distracted. Do you see someone who interests you more than the great notorious Lestrange clan?”
“No, that’s not quite right,” she murmured, leaning in closer to him. Unbeknownst to Petunia, Rabastan was struggling to conceal his flushed cheeks. “Do you notice that vase over there? I could swear the wall is moving or shifting. I’m not sure, but it feels like something is off with it.”
James and Sirius exchanged worried glances.
Rabastan furrowed his brow, his instincts kicking in. “Shifting, you say?” He turned to where she pointed, and a sense of unease settled in as he noticed the peculiar motion of the wall. He quickly approached Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, sharing a furtive glance that spoke volumes.
“Dance with Narcissa for a moment,” he told her, urgency in his tone. With a nod, he used Legilimency, Rabastan projected his thoughts to Lucius and Narcissa: Something’s wrong. We may be under attack. Narcissa’s eyes widened in understanding as she subtly readied her wand.
“Bombarda Maxima!” she shouted, and the spell tore through the air, sending James and Sirius flying across the room. Gasps erupted from the crowd as stunned guests turned to witness the two intruders, their invisibility cloak now useless.
“Look who it is!” Bellatrix Lestrange exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with delight as she spotted Sirius. “Sirius, what a lovely surprise! I don’t remember you being on the invitation list.”
The moment turned sour for James and Sirius as they found themselves outnumbered. Rabastan’s eyes narrowed, his voice dripping with contempt. “What’s this? Did you come here to ruin my wedding? Aw, how thoughtful. You’re so sweet.”
Sirius there was anger in his eyes he tried to play sheepishly “we’re just making sure that you don’t hurt the Muggle bride” the death eaters looked at each other, and they all started laughing at his stupidity
Rodolfas Lestrange was right by his wife’s side “you truly are a Gryffindor Sirius brash stupid and impulsive ready to put yourself in danger. How touching playing the hero to save my brother’s wife” The entire room, erupted with laughter.
Lucius Malfoy stepped forward, a calculating glint in his eye. “What should we do with those two idiots?”
Bellatrix’s playful demeanor shifted, and she grinned wickedly. “I know! Let’s have a little game called ‘Accepting a Muggle into the family!’”
The crowd leaned in, intrigue piqued. “My new sister-in-law, Petunia Lestrange, come forward,” she beckoned.
Petunia, confusion etched across her face, complied hesitantly, her heart racing. Bellatrix handed her a knife, her expression twisted in mockery. “Prove yourself worthy of carrying the Lestrange name and standing by my brother-in-law’s side.”
Petunia’s heart dropped as she processed the request, uncertainty clouding her thoughts.
Sirius swallowed hard as Bellatrix pointed her wand at him, her smile growing wider. “I want you to torture these two for crashing your wedding. It’s only natural for uninvited guests to be educated.”
In that moment, the room bristled with tension. James and Sirius exchanged desperate glances, their minds racing for a way out. The stakes were higher than ever, and the twisted game had only just begun. Would they escape, or would they become pawns in a deadly game orchestrated by the very darkness they had vowed to fight?
Xxxxx
Sirius Black and James Potter strode in, their faces a mix of determination and concern. "Wait!" James called out, desperation lacing his voice. "You don't have to do this! Can’t you see? They're using you!"
Petunia felt the anger bubble up inside her. Their intrusion was a reminder of the past, a past filled with sneers and mockery, a past where she had been the butt of their jokes. She could still recall the day when she was drinking orange juice with Lily, only to find her skin turning blue because of a hex they'd cast. The laughter that had echoed in her ears—Lily’s laughter “ it’s just a joke Tunney”—had felt like a dagger, piercing through her heart.
They had pretended to be the champions of Muggle-borns, but in truth, they were nothing more than bullies, and the memory of their derision haunted her still. How they reveled in their magic, while she was merely a Muggle, an outsider looking in. And now, here they were, trying to play the heroes again.
As Bellatrix Lestrange, a woman with wild hair and a manic glint in her eye, observed the scene with delight, Petunia felt a surge of power rush through her veins. They thought she was weak, but today, she would show them just how wrong they were.
Petunia bent down, locking eyes with Sirius, who looked at her with a mix of pity and fear. “You think you’re here to help me?” she laughed, a harsh sound that echoed off the marble walls. “How sweet. But you see…” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper as she crouched lower, the knife from Bellatrix glinting menacingly in her hand. “I think I want to torture you for trying to ruin my wedding.”
Sirius’s expression shifted from shock to defiance, but Petunia could see the flicker of fear lurking beneath the surface. She turned her gaze to Bellatrix, who grinned with wicked delight. “You want me to torture them, right?”
“Yes!” Bellatrix replied, her eyes alight with sadistic glee. “I would love to see how you would torture these two, even though you’re a Muggle and have no wand.”
That was where they were wrong. Petunia had power of her own. She shifted her gaze back to Sirius and James, her heart racing as she spotted the small vials of Polyjuice Potion in their pockets. They had come prepared, thinking they could thwart her plans. But they didn’t realize that their own history was about to come back to haunt them.
With deft fingers, she retrieved the vials and opened one, the pungent aroma filling her nostrils. She remembered Severus Snape’s warnings about the potion and its effects if improperly used. But she was ready to embrace the pain, to turn their own weapons against them. She took a small piece of her hair, added it to the potion, and began her work.
“Wait—what are you doing?” James asked, confusion washing over his features as she pressed the blade against their skin, making small, deliberate cuts.
“Just a little reminder of what it feels like to be hurt,” she said, her voice low and steady. The knife glided against Sirius's skin, and she felt a sense of satisfaction as they squirmed in confusion and pain.
Once she had made her “masterpiece,” she poured the Polyjuice Potion onto their wounds. The reaction was instantaneous. They screamed in agony, their faces contorting in disbelief as the potion worked its dark magic, seeping into their cuts and causing their bodies to react violently.
Laughter erupted in the ballroom, echoing off the grand ceilings. Guests, previously stunned into silence, now reveled in the chaos, their roars of amusement ringing in her ears. Among them, Bellatrix laughed the hardest, a mad cackle that sent a thrill of excitement through Petunia.
“I think I like this Muggle,” Bellatrix declared, her voice rising above the cacophony.
Petunia murmured softly to herself, “It’s a wicked game, and I’m just getting started,” a chuckle escaping her lips.
Xxxxxx
The grand hall of the Ministry of Magic was a cacophony of whispered voices and muffled gasps. The air crackled with a palpable tension as Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, presided over an event he had orchestrated with the precision of a puppet master. Before him stood Rabastan Lestrange, a figure draped in darkness, notorious for his cruelty and unwavering loyalty to Voldemort. Next to him, a woman clad in a pristine wedding dress—a symbol of purity—stood in stark contrast, her features momentarily concealed beneath a lace veil.
Cornelius beamed at the sight, thinking of the revenge this moment symbolized. A Muggle married to one of the most feared wizards of the age—he relished the thought. Beside him, Dolores Umbridge wore a sly smile, enjoying the spectacle as much as her Minister. Little did he know that a grave miscalculation had occurred.
“Rabastan Lestrange, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” Cornelius droned, barely containing his glee.
“I do,” Rabastan replied, his voice a dark growl, devoid of warmth or affection.
As the couple exchanged vows, a wave of nausea washed over Cornelius. Petunia smiled warmly at Rabastan, and he, surprisingly, returned the gesture with a hint of tenderness. The moment they kissed, sealing their fates in a union that reeked of betrayal, Cornelius felt his heart sink further. How could he have been so easily deceived?
As the guests erupted into applause, Lucius Malfoy, leaning against the ornate railing, clapped with feigned enthusiasm. “Bravo! Bravo! The dark wizard and the Muggle! A fitting show indeed!” His voice boomed through the hall, drawing attention to the couple. “Now, let us move to the ballroom for the celebration!”
The crowd began to shift, following Lucius as he led them toward the lavish ballroom adorned with enchanted chandeliers and golden drapes. Cornelius felt his grip tighten around the arm of Dolores Umbridge, pulling her aside with a fierce urgency.
“We need to talk,” he muttered, barely containing his anger.
“What is happening?” he muttered under his breath, glancing sideways at Dolores, whose face betrayed nothing but confusion.
“This is Petunia Evans, Minister,” she replied innocently, though there was a hint of defiance in her tone. “Surely, she must have changed since you last saw her.”
“Changed?” he spat. “You brought me an ugly, desperate Muggle to humiliate the Lestrange family, not this enchanting creature! You switched the brides, didn’t you?”
Dolores flinched as his voice escalated. “Petunia had acromegaly, Minister. The healers at St. Mungo's cured her. If we hadn’t, she would have died!” Her eyes darted nervously, but Cornelius was not in the mood for her theatrics.
“Damn it, Dolores!” he shouted, rubbing his temples in frustration. “She was supposed to be a monster, a freak of nature she was meant to marry him as a show of our power! How could you—”
Dolores stepped back, her expression shifting to one of faux fear. “But Minister, if I didn’t cure her, she would have died! We would have to go back to square one!”
“Could this get any worse?” Cornelius groaned, rubbing his temples. Just then, a commotion erupted outside, followed by screams that pierced the air.
Suddenly, the laughter and music from the ballroom turned into screams and chaos. Cornelius’s heart raced as he and Dolores rushed to the source of the commotion. What they found was beyond their worst nightmares.
Petunia stood amidst the throng, holding a bloody knife, the source of terror as she watched both Sirius Black and James Potter writhe in agony at her feet. Her demeanor had shifted dramatically; gone was the bride he had pitied. Instead, a wicked smile played across her lips as she turned to face Fudge, her eyes sparkling with mischief..
“Oh, Minister Fudge, where did you run off to?” she giggled, the sound almost musical amidst the horror. “We were just having a little fun.”
Cornelius felt the blood drain from his face as he took a step back, his instincts screaming at him to escape. But before he could move, Petunia glided toward him, her knife dripping crimson. She took his handkerchief and delicately wiped the blade, her smile never faltering.
“Isn’t this delightful?” she asked, her voice honeyed with mock innocence. “You orchestrated this little event, but I must say, the party has turned quite exciting, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Stay back!” he shouted, trying to draw his wand, but his hands trembled, his body paralyzed with fear. The room was filled with Death Eaters, and he knew that if he acted against her, it would mean his end.
“Why, Minister,” she cooed, stepping closer. “You seem a little… shaken. Surely, you didn’t expect a boring wedding, did you? This is the new me, and I must thank Dolores for her… exceptional care.”
Cornelius’s mind raced, desperately searching for a way out. He had unwittingly unleashed a monster, and in doing so, he had just become a pawn in a game far beyond his control.
With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the knife aside, the clatter echoing through the room. “Now, let’s enjoy the festivities, shall we? I do hope you have enough wine to celebrate my new life… and the old ones we’ve just put to rest.”
The crowd, once filled with nervous laughter and excitement, now stood frozen, watching the chaos unfold. Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, realized too late that in trying to orchestrate revenge, he had become a fool—caught in a deadly web of magic, madness, and murder spun by a woman he had underestimated.
In that moment, Petunia Evans, once a mere Muggle, became something far more dangerous—a bride to a dark wizard, and a harbinger of chaos, cloaked in beauty and blood.