Chapter 52 An education
It had been years since Petunia had been in school; decades, in fact. Now she had to find classes in a shifting castle, learn subjects she had never even heard of, and wear a uniform again. Had books weighed this much when she was a teen?
None of that mattered, she was in and they were not going to put her back out!
After her first success on the ship, she was excited for her first class in this strange place. New, not strange; she was a member now, not an outsider.
She stepped off the ship and slowed to a stop as she took in the rows of towers that made up the school. Some were stone others wood, one looked as if it was all vines! None of which could be seen from the ship; twelve feet away.
Petunia looked back to see if the ships were now missing. They still sat in that impossibly small pond they had ended up in, a tiny stream running off to the east. She didn't even want to wonder on the logistics of that journey, and turned back to the school.
Her white haired friends head eased into her peripheral vision with an eyebrow raised. "First day, second thoughts?"
Petunia turned towards Jenpohr while her eyes stayed glued to those wondrous towers. She was frozen to the spot by a thought that had her heart as if circled by arctic water around an island. It took her a few moments before she could find her voice. "She isn't in there." A tear ran down her boney cheek that she didn't even feel. "She will never…" That was all she could get out.
Jenpohr nodded. She had lost two aunts who were proper witches. They had been on her mind quite a bit after that letter flew into her kitchen. Hopefully the teachings of her grandfather would be as helpful here as it was in her own moment of need. "They always do." She didn't know if it was an aunt, mother or sister, it didn't really matter. "They catch us up at the end of all things and you'll see; they are there for it all."
Petunia clutched a hand over her mouth to keep any sounds from coming out. This was the first time she had actually mourned her sister. She had buried it all under loathing of her sisters' undignified malediction.
That ability her sister had was what made her death so impossible to deal with. Her jealousy had been covered in her false loathing of that power for so long that Petunia had believed it as truth.
Now Petunia clung to what her new friend had said: if only to keep from spending the rest of the day crying in this spot.
After some calming breathes, Petunia managed to compose herself. "Well, if that's the case it's time to start giving them something to watch." That said, the two marched off to find their first class.
Evidently, everyone started in the same tower and on the same subject; casting 101.
This tower was very impressive. It was a tower of multi colored stone blocks with ancient carvings cut into some of them. These, they would learn in magical history, depicted the history of the twig wand thru the ages.
Tall tapestries depicted colorful moving paintings of historical figures that had, in secret, used similar wands to the ones the students would soon make. In many cases they were similar to the illegal wands up many students' sleeves.
Even more fascinating was, although the tower was tall and thin, turned out to consist, on the inside, as one long corridor. The fifteenth door on the left was to be the one for their first class. Evidently, for this first year being open, there were over thirty teachers for the same subject.
It wasn't long into her first class that she began to hope those silent watchers were watching a bit less. By the end of it, she had learned 4 new spells, none of which she could cast. The same went for her second and third classes. Cutting spells, light spells, even fire spells that came out like a burning match head were beyond her grasp.
It was at her fourth class that she had finally succeeded in casting anything other than her first spell. Home economics was the only class she had any luck at all in fact. Enchanting, defense magic, potions, and even basic spells grade one were evidently out of her reach.
Petunia began hearing the name Squib whispered after every failed spell: a name she had never heard until she came here. That name was stated openly at her when she tried one of the between class broomsticks. As before, she had to push off from the ground every few feet to avoid the broom settling to the ground.
To her further embarrassment, she had to ask a teacher for help getting to the next class. Divination was on the eighteenth floor of a tower with only windows for access.
Her first year left her earlier elation somewhat deflated. She was in the club, but not a valued member. That is, unless you count giving hundreds of former squibs a target to vent their past shame on, as valued.
Worries aside, she wanted badly to tell Vernon all about it. She did not. His hatred of the magical world was not faked or imagined. That was a shame really. Petunia's education, rough as it was, completed her in a way.
Her return was thankfully warm. Evidently washing one's own clothes and trying to keep the high standard of cleanliness about the house made her husband more appreciative of all she did.
She was not required by law to hide her powers from Vernon, she did anyway though. Any chance she had to use her wand was taken, with the acceptation of when he was in the vicinity of said area. Why wash the dishes in the machine when you could blast the food away with magic?
Vernon said nothing about her witch status. If Petunia kept it out of his sight, he was willing to refuse to acknowledge it was there at all. His wife went to college and was going to be an editor. That was his stand by if asked by coworkers and friends.
Jenpohr stood by her through the school years, but never defended her. She knew who Petunia was in relation to Harry Potter, knew some of how she treated him. If people wanted to laugh at her friend, then Petunia was a grown woman and besides, she had some karma coming her way.
Petunia did have one outstanding moment: in her last year she was trying (and failing) to charm a broom so it would move right when steered that way. Her spell work was so bad; the teacher had her working on a miniature broom. She had the spell right, but the motions were wrong and when the broom floated up and moved in a slow left hand turn, Petunia just hung her head. Even when it worked, her spells went all wrong.
The young teacher clapped her hands to get Petunia to look up. The Broom was making a continual loop; slowing at the spot above the holder it had started on, then going back to its constant speed. Thanks to the teacher drawing their attention, most of the class was watching when she spoke up. "You have something there."
Ginny, the very teacher she had cursed earlier was waving her back to her casting position. "Do the same formation you did to start the loop, but stop about a third of the second wave and point your wand to the ground."
Following the instructions didn't even make a popping noise. Petunia was ready to throw her wand down until the broom broke its ring and settled right to the spot she had pointed to.
Ginny pulled a leather bound ledger from under her arm and jotted something down with a turkey vulture feather. She had dipped the quill into her sleeve like it was an ink pot. "Well done Miss Dursley, that's a lost spell." She retrieved something out of a pouch at her hip and pinned it on the front of Petunias robes.
Petunia didn't know the meaning of that pin until she got her, so called, diploma. She did note that far fewer people smirked at her dismal wand work with that pinned on her front.
At her third year end, Petunia had gained a dismal amount of seventeen successful spells out of the four hundred and eighty one spells they studied. That made her third from the bottom of her class.
Petunia had only managed one other notable achievement, which showed up on her diploma: Rediscovered spell; homing charm.
That wasn't the only announcement on her "diploma". It also stated that she was an official magical being. Which sounded like an offhand way of saying she was almost a squib.
Still ever grateful to be in the club, Petunia beamed with pride. The badge, she would wear for years before finally getting it and her diploma framed.
The first time she wore her lost spell badge out of school was on her first day back to Diagon alley. The second time she wore it was to a graveyard in Godric's Hollow.
Petunia had to search amongst the stones, much like Harry and Hermione did, to find her sister's final resting place. Once there she saw the sorry state of their plot and blew away some leaves with a dusting spell. Next she washed her sister's headstone and dried it, both with her wand. She tried very hard to ignore the absolute lack of need for wand use here, but need wasn't the point.
She took a moment to compose herself before she began. It was strangely hard to say what she wanted to, even though she knew it would be a one sided talk. "Lilly dear, I finally came here to apologize to you." Her guts were knotting up with her shame, but she had to do this. "I very much regret what I said when you left for school and the way I have treated you since. Not only was I wrong, but it turns out I had the same ailment." Petunia pulled her Diploma out and unrolled it so her sister could see; a wobbly smile trying to form on her thin lips. "I guess we both were freaks after all."
Petunia dropped to her knees after that, unable to say anything more. She never felt Lily's arms as they wrapped around her in a tight loving hug, but they were around her all the same.
