Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter—I don't even own the basic plot of this story! So yeah…

Chapter One: No Looking Back

Lily Evans glared out the window of the Hogwarts Express, her head pounding. She considered finding Severus and asking if he happened to have a pain relieving drought on him, but grimly realized that no legal potion would stop Potter's inane chattering. She had been minding her own business, going over the details of the Prefects' duties with Remus, when Potter had entered, declaring "I just thought you all should know… there is a Full Moon tomorrow night."

This awe-inspiring and completely relevant announcement was quickly followed by a compliment on Lily's summer tan, an invitation to join him for drinks in Hogsmeade, and a detailed list of James' various "impressive" under-takings accomplished over the holiday. It was about thirty seconds into this that Lily's head began to ache.

She began to miss the luxury of being free from James Potter for two uninterrupted months, despite the stress that had made her miserable all summer. The whole house had been walking on egg shells to keep Petunia from rearing her head in a classic image of Bridezilla, ever since her engagement had been announced. Add that to the stress that came with planning the wedding itself, and Lily wanted to pull her hair out. She still couldn't believe that in a few short weeks Petunia Evans was going to become Petunia Dursley, and the wife of a man (several years older than she) who worked at a drill company. At the tender age of nineteen. Lily shook her head at the thought. Petunia couldn't possibly love that bore of a man, no matter what her mother said. She was settling into a life she didn't even know she didn't want. Even with their sisterly relationship consisting of silence on Lily's part, and whispered insults on Petunia's, Lily knew her older sister. If Lily had half a mind, she would stop that wedding from happening at any cost. As it were, Petunia had made it more than clear that Lily and her opinions weren't welcome in her life any longer, so Lily resigned herself to just sit by and watch, praying for miracles.

James' voice suddenly boomed around in the train compartment, snapping her out of her reverie. "Evans, why aren't you listening to me?!"

She shook all thoughts of her sister out of her head, and brought herself back to the present. 'Like an attention-seeking toddler, I swear…' She thought to herself. Out loud, she snapped "Because it's you," then, turning to Remus, "I'm going to get my trunk, we're starting to slow down. See you later,"

James smiled as she left, still completely confident despite the insult. "I love a girl who plays hard to get," he said, more to himself than to Remus.

"I don't think she's playing." He replied, a small smirk on his lips.

Like magic, Lily's headache went away as soon as she left Potter's presence. When the train pulled in to the station, she was so well recovered to actually be in a pretty good mood. She would soon be in her element, surrounded by her friends and her ever-reliable books, and wouldn't have to deal with the wedding business again until she actually attended the ceremony itself. She found herself waving cheerfully at her old classmates and warmly smiling at the first years who stumbled off the train with their eyes wide from fear and excitement.

She climbed into the nearest carriage, beaming when she found herself sitting next to Whitney Bloom, one of the girls who shared her dorm and her closest friend. "Whitney! How was Greece?" She wrapped her arms around a surprised Whitney, who grinned back.

"It was fantastic! The boys there were to die for!" She shook out her wavy, sun-lightened blonde hair, a rather vain habit that used to severely annoy Lily. "Why didn't you answer any of my letters? We were going to make plans to meet up somewhere before boarding so we could sit together!"

Lily's smile faltered slightly. "My sister… Since she is getting married in two weeks, she is apparently entitled to do whatever she wishes—including locking up Lulu in her cage all summer." Lulu herself rustled her feathers from the cage in Lily's lap, as if shaking off the memory.

Whitney nodded sympathetically. She had been friends with Lily these past four years, and had witnessed Petunia's increasingly antagonistic behavior towards her little sister. Being an only child, however, she could hardly empathize, and changed the subject back to the fabulous Greek boys she'd encountered, to Lily's relief. She would rather not think about those un-pleasantries any longer.

The two girls sat next to each other in the Great Hall, talking mostly about Whitney's visit to Greece—just one of the Bloom family's many travels, as they preferred to spend their impressive amounts of money abroad, and the already established and thereby stress-free details of Petunia and Vernon's wedding.

Then the sorting started, and Lily had to smile to herself at the memory of her own sorting. The hat had whispered into her ear compliments she had never applied to herself. He'd said that she had the intelligence and ambition to succeed in Ravenclaw, but that her courage and strength of heart played a bigger role in her life and she would therefore do even better in Gryffindor. It was rather surreal to hear someone tell you they saw these heroic qualities in yourself, almost as if she were auditioning to be in a dramatic film. She was just plain old Lily Evans, with the freckles, green eyes, and the long red hair—not any of the things the hat believed she was. Still, she was flattered all the same, and her being sorted into Gryffindor turned out to be a good thing, since it introduced her to Whitney.

The sorting ended with a smirking boy named Harold Zambini being sorted into Slytherin, and then Dumbledore stood to speak.

"Good Evening, boys and girls! To you first years, welcome! To the rest of you, welcome back! Before you enjoy the feast and stuff yourselves till you can hardly keep your eyelids open, I'd like to make a few announcements. There are a few additions to the staff this year—firstly, Mr. Filch's new assistant in caretaking, Mrs. Norris." He gestured towards the door of the Great Hall, where Filch was standing as per usual with a grimace on his face. The entire room turned in their seats to see the addition, but were immediately confused as there was nobody there besides Filch. Whispers echoed around the room, people wondering if she had fallen through the trick step in the staircase, or if she had gotten lost, already. Then Lily saw the striped tail flick behind Filch's boots, and she let out an uncharacteristic giggle. She knew Dumbledore liked to have an interesting staff, but hiring a cat? What did he pay her with—yarn balls?

Sure enough, Filch picked up the cat and stroked her on the head a few times, provoking the room to break out into hysterical laughter, positive that Dumbledore was playing a joke on them. The patient but firm look on his face said otherwise.

When the laughter died down to a few embarrassed coughs, Dumbledore continued. "Also, our beloved Professor Chang has retired this summer, and until her place as Professor of Muggle Studies is filled, you will be in the capable hands of Miss Redding." He nodded at a slightly overweight woman who sat on Hagrid's left, blushing madly at the attention. Lily frowned, wondering how long they would have this substitute, and whether or not her grade in the class would suffer as a result. Dumbledore made eye contact, and, as if reading her mind, declared, "I expect the permanent replacement to arrive in approximately two weeks." He winked at Lily, whose eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What other meaning did Dumbledore expect her to glean from his statement? Lily shook her head. She had probably just imagined the wink.

Dumbledore continued with his usual reminders, many of them aimed at the Marauders, though he never said names, but soon he was done, and the plates were filling up with food like she had seen them do countless times, and Lily happily realized that she was home.

As the cliché goes, if you had told Petunia four years ago that when she was nineteen years old, she would be getting married (let alone to a man who worked at a drill company), she would have laughed at you. In your face. Big, body shaking laughs. But there she stood in front of the mirror, the evening before her wedding.

She had gone to bed early, thinking she would need the extra sleep, especially considering how early she would need to wake up in order to make her hair appointment on time, but when lying in the dark, it was suddenly harder to fight back those so-called "pre-wedding jitters", and she had to get back up again. Petunia knew that Vernon was a good man, and she knew that he loved her more than any other man ever had, but she couldn't be sure that her feelings towards him weren't only a want for stability and the belief that it was the proper thing to do. At one point in her life, these feelings would have been easily distinguishable, but no longer.

She shook her head, trying to clear it of all doubts. It was the evening before her wedding, hardly the right time to worry about whether or not one actually want to be getting married.

To cheer herself up, she instead thought about the wedding itself, everything decorated and planned to Petunia's exact specifications. She let the images float through her head like a visual mantra. Three bridesmaids, none of whom were her freak of a sister, Lily, dressed in dark amethyst strapless gowns, with violets and white roses for their bouquets and the flower arrangements, and a three tiered cake complete with delicate lace trim and edible marzipan violets. And of course her gorgeous wedding dress… She smiled sneakily at her reflection, then. She could try it on now, just to see if it still fit. She had eaten a lot at dinner. Nobody would have to know…

Petunia snuck into her closet as if she were committing a crime, stepping carefully into her dress, arranging the straps so as not to rip them. The dress was a silk organza beauty, with spaghetti straps of lace holding up the v-neckline and crossing in the back to hold up the dress around the small of her back. The lace detailing on the chest and natural waist gave the simple gown an antique flair that Petunia loved.

She looked perfect in that dress, yet as she stared into the mirror now, the only thing she saw was her sister's face four years ago, when she had received a visit from the headmaster of that blasted school, Hogwarts. Lily had been so happy, so sure that this was the right path for her; this is what she was meant to do. All Petunia could do was watch, uncertain of how this was going to change their lives, and unable to do anything to stop it. She was fifteen when Lily left for Hogwarts, and when a few weeks later an owl pecked at the window with a letter tied to its leg, Petunia pounced on it. She read through the letter twice, entranced by this world Lily told about, where food appeared on your plate out of nowhere in a dining room where the ceiling was a view of the sky outside, where you go to classes and learn things that will actually help you in life, unlike geometry, and when you're bored you can go for a walk on the grounds where there's a beautiful lake occupied by a giant squid and, it was rumored, mermaids. It was all there and it was real and not justa fairy tale, and Petunia knew in that moment that there was nowhere in the world she wanted to be as badly as she wanted to be at Hogwarts.

Petunia had then her sister's owl, Lulu, a treat and shut the window behind her, hoping she wouldn't mind taking a letter back to the Headmaster for her. She took out her best stationary, the pale pink one with Hello Kitty in the corner, and sat down to write her letter.

Dear Headmaster Dumbledore, she wrote, using her sister's letter as a reference for spelling.

I don't think you remember me, but you came to my house about two months ago to visit my sister, Lily Evans, who is now attending your school. My name is Petunia Evans, and I am imploring you to allow me to attend your school. You see, I am a very good student— you can ask Lily, but if you don't believe her I can also send you a transcript of my grades. I always try my hardest, so I know that I could keep up with the other students, even though I'm not a witch like my sister. Lily says that the word for what she is is "muggle-born", meaning that she was born from non-magical parents. Well, as her sister, I too was born from non-magical parents, and I would like a chance to learn how to do magic, too. My sister sent me a letter telling me all about Hogwarts, and the Great Hall, and the classes, and the mermaids, and I know that that is where I am supposed to be. Just give me a chance—I can prove it to you. If the reason I didn't get an invitation as well was because it would cost too much money because you don't make the students pay tuition, I could give you all the money I have earned from babysitting. I promise if you give me a chance at Hogwarts, I can do what it takes to succeed.

Sincerely yours,

Petunia Evans

A sudden tapping at the window brought Petunia's thoughts back into the present. She wasn't sure how long she had been standing at the mirror, or how long that that something had been tapping at her window. She approached the closed window slowly, absentmindedly muttering, "Let me see then, what the threat is, and this mystery explore—Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—'Tis the wind, and nothing more!'" How ironic that her college English class had only just yesterday finished the analysis of Edgar Allen Poe's, The Raven?

However, when she opened the window, in there stepped not a stately raven from the saintly days of yore, but a gray owl with a letter tied to its leg. Petunia frowned. Obviously she had fallen asleep earlier, and she was now dreaming. This owl was much larger and darker than her sister's, and Lily never sealed her letters with the official Hogwarts seal. The only reason she could think of to explain this owl's presence was if Lily was hurt or in trouble. But then why was the letter clearly addressed to Petunia? Yes, she was definitely dreaming.

She shook her head, carefully breaking the seal and pulling out the parchment inside. She couldn't believe the words written on the page, could barely make sense of them.

Dear Miss Petunia Evans,

I hope my letter finds you well. I am sure that you remember very well the letter you sent to me when your sister, Lily, first arrived at my school. You said you wished to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—that you knew just from hearing about it that it was where you belonged. I said then that this could not be arranged. I had no doubts in your capabilities to do well in classes, or to get along with the other students, it was only your lack of magical powers that would make the classes such as charms and transfiguration impossible. I am writing to you now, however, to take back what I said. I am asking for you to attend Hogwarts—not as a student, but as a teacher. You would teach Muggle Studies, a course focused on teaching the habits, traditions, and everyday activities of muggles. You would live in the castle, be paid the same salary, and receive the same benefits as the other teachers. In every way you would be the same as any other teacher, simply without magical powers.

If you still feel that Hogwarts is where you are supposed to be, pack your bags and send your reply back to me as soon as possible, and I will come retrieve you from your house. You may consider this your chance to prove not only to me, but to everyone that you can succeed at whatever you wish to do.

Sincerely yours,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Petunia had the strange urge to look at the mirror and make sure that she was still herself, and hadn't transformed into some other girl. Dumbledore wanted her to teach at Hogwarts? A muggle? It didn't make sense to her, even if she would be teaching about being a muggle. She was still a non-magical person. Non-magical people didn't belong at Hogwarts.

"This is mad. This is some sort of cruel prank." Petunia whispered. She began to dig through her desk to find Dumbledore's first letter to her, convinced that when she compared the two she would see a difference in handwriting or some other giveaway to the trick her sister's friends were playing on her. When she put them side by side, however, she could detect no difference other than the content of the letters themselves.

Petunia read the letter a second time, and then a third, waiting for when she could understand whyhe wanted her, a nineteen year old muggle, to teach at Hogwarts, a prestigious school for witches and wizards. It was true, a muggle would know more about "Muggle Studies" than a witch or wizard would, and Petunia was already in school to become a teacher, but did Dumbledore honestly expect her to be able to fit in in a place like that?

She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm herself, and remembered how she felt when she read Lily's first letter home, how completely confident she was that Hogwarts was exactly where she belonged. Petunia couldn't remember any other time where she felt that way. She shook her head at that thought. Of course she had, she felt that way every time she was with Vernon. Eyes open once more, Petunia picked up the picture she kept of him in a frame by her bed.

Of course Petunia wasn't going to go to Hogwarts. She was going to marry Vernon tomorrow, just as everyone expected her to. They would be happy together, and safe. Petunia and Vernon, together. Forever.

"Oh, shit." She hissed, then threw the frame face-down on the bed, and ran to fetch her bags.

AN: Mega thanks to Ladyluck over at for graciously giving me the idea for this story! All hail She Who is Unfailingly Creative! Huzzah! (; Please please please review, let me know what you like and don't like, if you like anything at all! Any feedback at all is welcome! (: