Professor Dumbledore's twinkle returned, he popped a lemon drop in his mouth and wondered why it had been so remarkably easy t

Professor Dumbledore's twinkle returned, he popped a lemon drop in his mouth and wondered why it had been so remarkably easy to convince Petunia Evans to take the job as the Muggle Studies teacher. Just a letter had been all it had taken. He prided himself on knowing just about everything about his students and their lives, and he knew that Lily Evan's sister had been very anti-magic.

"Time certainly can change things," he thought. "She must have a change of hear, unless she didn't really hate magic."

Yes, that was it. Jealousy was often how children reacted, and he had of course had a lot of experience with children, dealing with them year after year as headmaster, teacher and head of house.

He would have to write a reply to Petunia, he hadn't of course given her much information in the letter incase she didn't take the job, changing the wards and enchantments to accept Petunia would also be absolutely necessary if she was to work and live here. Lily was another person that would need to be contacted, she would definitely want to know if her sister was part of the magical world.

In fact, maybe a letter wouldn't be able to explain every thing that he needed to tell Petunia, he would have to meet with her face to face. Muggle transportation was something that in his earlier life, he had used on occasion, but now he only had a very vague idea of how it actually worked. It seemed as if he would have to use magical means to get in touch with Petunia, she had seemed fine with the owl, so he contemplated what to do – floo, apparition, broom, maybe he could even get the Hogwarts Express working for a day, and have it faster than the normal speed that it uses for the students. After remembering a rather unfortunate incident nearly ten years ago now when he had flooed into a friends house, only to discover that a slightly insane house elf had thought it a good idea to board up the fireplace. That had been a rather painful experience indeed. Floo was definitely out.

Grabbing his broom, he decided that it would be best to fly there. He wasn't professional standard, but he was still quite a good flyer, and had even been a chaser on his house team for a few years. His wand was stuffed in the zipped pocket of his blue star covered volumous robes before he mounted the Shooting Star, and flew through the open window of his office, knocking a bag of sherbet lemons from the windowsill to the ground. Oh dear. A quick levitation charm fixed that it, and he was off.