What if Dumbledore had pitied Petunia's lack of magic ability but desire to possess some and allowed her to have a tour of Hogwarts? This is being re-posted as I've deleted the muliti-chapter stroy that it previously belonged in.
Disclaimer - I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter; they all belong to thier respective owner.
Enjoy!
It had been a truly magic day; Petunia doubted she had every enjoyed herself more… except maybe the time when that vulgar Snape boy had fallen into the river. It had to be close.
But the day was coming to an end and Dumbledore hadn't given her a definite acceptance yet and so the eleven-year-old had taken it upon herself to decide for him; by running away from the group with a plan to hide until September first when she could truly past for a student of Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry.
She hadn't been running long before she stumbled across a deserted classroom which had suited her perfectly; it didn't look like anyone had been in for years. The classroom was relatively bare, save a few huge pillars, an old desk and an odd covered shape at the back of the room. At a glance, she thought the tattered material, which held close resemblance to an extremely dirty tablecloth, had covered a portrait; there were hundreds of portraits.
She strode across the room toward the covered portrait and pulled off the material concealing it, with the intent to hide underneath. To Petunia's surprise, it wasn't a funny portrait, where the inhabitants could move and speak, but a less impressive looking tatty old mirror.
The huge mirror loomed over her and she stood before it without considering it might be more than it appeared; muggles. She ran a slender finger over the frame of the mirror, as though to reassure her it was actually there.
"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi" she murmured to herself, "how queer! What an odd place this is…"
Slightly disappointed by the absence of a portrait, she gazed resentfully into the mirror, prudently twisting a lock of blonde hair around her finger and using another to smooth an eyebrow. What would all the witches and wizards think if she had a hair out of place!
She was so wrapped up in her own vanity she barely noticed her reflection change. It wasn't until she noticed that her reflection had stopped rearranging the bangles on her left forearm that she realised her reflection wasn't her reflection at all.
She cried out, for this surely wasn't possible, couldn't be possible, and whipped around in order to boast to someone that she had just found a magic mirror.
But there was no-one around and the young girl remembered that she had ran away from the group into the deserted classroom. Sticking her nose in the air, she turned back to mirror and was instantly captivated by what she saw, the fear being replaced with a raw craving.
The first thing she noticed was her reflection, for it was she, was brandishing what looked like a robust twig, twisting it expertly through her lanky fingers.
Petunia instantly gazed down at her hand; there was no twig there, just a bright pink bangle.
Does this mirror tell the future? Professor Dumbledore's going to change his mind and let me attend Hogwarts!
Giddy with ecstasy, Petunia stared hungrily at the mirror, as though willing it to commence telling the future.
Suddenly, her reflection's clothes began to thicken and the pale pink of her blouse darkened to black before lengthening. Blossoming on her chest was a Hogwarts house crest of midnight blue which supported a handsome eagle.
Ravenclaw. What had Professor Dumbledore said that was! Intelligence! Naturally…
And she was top of the class, winning every award Hogwarts had to offer; she watched her reflection revel in the attention and praise of fellow students, teachers, boys… whilst her good-for-nothing sister faded into the background Petunia had lived in for eleven years.
She heard herself cackle and immediately clamped her hand to her mouth, as though laughing would let out some of the pleasure she longed to forever keep inside her.
Her face broke into a grin as Professor Dumbledore appeared beside her, casting angry glances at her sister, who was now cowering on the floor. She screeched with laughter as she watch Dumbledore cast his arm out dismissively to Lily, before she faded out of the mirror, crying.
"Ah, Miss Evans, there you are. And I see you've stumbled across the Mirror of Erised, a very intriguing object, wouldn't you agree? But it is time to draw this tour to a close, if you'd like to accompany me…"
She turned abruptly to see Professor Dumbledore stood in the doorway. She hesitated, glancing back at the mirror several times only to find her reflection, clad in blue jeans and pink blouse, had returned to its original state.
Gone was the wand and robes and magic ability. She was just normal Petunia again. Not that that mattered; she had found a mirror that told the future and knew it wouldn't be long before everything she saw came true and Lily, fabulous, remarkable Lily, got what was coming to her.
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