Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I am merely borrowing them.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

MUGGLE

Chapter Nine: Secrets and Spells

Look in the mirror. The face that pins you with its double gaze reveals a chastening secret.

Diane Ackerman

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

The room Dumbledore led her to in Hogwarts was lovely, with a giant bed covered with velvety-soft blankets and hung with long, heavy red curtains. A squashy matching armchair sat before a crackling fire; a glistening bathroom shone through the door to the next room. Petunia fell onto the bed as Dumbledore slipped out, saying "I will return soon. Rest while you can," and fell asleep without even bothering to take off her shoes.

When she woke, she found a set of wizarding robes laid out for her on the armchair. They looked as though they had once been someone's school robes, but the distinguishing colored piping round the top and the distinctive House badge had been removed. Petunia picked them up, feeling slightly ill at the sight of them. Lily had robes like this—her mother always complained that she didn't know how to fold them when she packed her daughter's trunk.

But her own clothes were completely ruined—torn, muddy, and a definite smell of sewer still rose from them. Petunia showered in the gorgeous bathroom and reluctantly, pulled on the Hogwarts uniform.

She stared at herself in the mirror. Long nose, horsy teeth, blonde hair that had just a hint of Lily's vibrant red—just the same as always. But as a whole, she could be a student of Hogwarts. No longer the ordinary, loved-but-overlooked daughter whom no one really expected anything of. No longer the Muggle—something special.

Petunia knew perfectly well she would never have fit in at Hogwarts. If she had been a strong enough Seer then they would have sent a letter. She never would have gone to St. Mary's at all. And when Lily's letter came, it would have been expected... it wouldn't be new. It would be routine by then, the younger sister following in her older sister's footsteps, the older complaining of the annoyance but secretly so proud of the younger...

But no.

Her vision had been spoiled by that terrible letter, snatched away in one quick rip of an envelope. Lily had gone off on her own, unafraid even without an older sister to guide her way... Lily had to be special.

And because she was special, she had in turn awakened Petunia's own gifts. Petunia had Seen... and been Seen in turn, been betrayed... and now, her world had flipped upside down.

You can ignore me forever if only you'll come back, Petunia whispered silently to the mirror, seeing not her own face but leaping flames and the Dark Mark glowing in the sky. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...

She turned sharply at the knock on the door. "Miss Evans?" said Dumbledore, poking his head in like some kind of absurd butler. "Feeling better? I can have Madame Pomfrey—er, our nurse—come if you need anything fixed up. Or would you like something to eat?"

"What did you tell my school?" asked Petunia, ignoring his question. "What have you told Lily? Does she know anything about what's going on?" Her voice cracked on the last words, and she turned around again so he would not see the tears brimming in her eyes.

Dumbledore came all the way into the room and sat on the squashy armchair. "Your school believes that a family friend came to get you after hearing of the accident." He leaned on one arm and stared into the flames crackling merrily in the fireplace. "Your sister is quite upset, and understandably so. Though I told her myself early this morning, the incident was reported in the wizarding world newspaper The Daily Prophet, and so I believe she has been the recipient of a considerable amount of taxing questions and concerns. While well-meant, I'm sure, such things can be worse than grief sometimes."

"May I see her?" asked Petunia, facing the old wizard again, hoping that he would say yes and at the same time wishing he would say no. She did not know what she would say to her sister—it had been so long since they had spoken like sisters should—but she thought that Lily probably needed her, needed someone familiar.

And, she thought sadly, there was no one else.

Dumbledore's blue eyes fixed upon her, deadly intense in their direct gaze, and for a moment he did not say anything.

"You must understand, Miss Evans," said Dumbledore at last, "that I cannot allow you to tell her of anything you have been doing in the service of the Order. A great deal of our operation depends on complete secrecy. And though I feel certain I can trust you to keep my trust, I do not trust our enemies."

"I won't tell her anything," Petunia said, rather sullenly.

"I require a measure of security beyond your word, I'm afraid," said Dumbledore. He stood up and Petunia found herself staring down the long wooden point of a wand. "Obscurum quietus!"

A blue light snicked out of the wand and washed over her; Petunia felt the heat and shuddered violently. Unlike the Stunning spell, she did not pass out, but she fell to her knees and coughed fiercely. Every one of the visions she had ever Seen raced past her eyes, blue light fogging up her vision. At long last the wretched fog cleared and she could see once more.

"What did you do to me?" cried Petunia, leaping up from the carpet and backing away from Dumbledore.

He put his wand back into the pocket of his robes. "I do apologize. But I cannot have your sister knowing of the Order and possibly leaking our operations to someone in Hogwarts who has more sympathy towards Voldemort and his Death Eaters. She has been similarly enchanted to keep your whereabouts secret. She will not be able to tell anyone you are here."

Petunia's eyes widened. "You're just as bad as they are, enchanting defenseless people to do what you want! At least they think they're serving him out of loyalty! This is censorship, pure and simple! You think Muggles can't be trusted! Honestly, I'm not going to say anything about—acck!" She choked on the words the Order of the Phoenix and shot the old wizard a look of pure fury.

Dumbledore's eyes sparked angrily. "It is a war, Miss Evans. Come with me and I will take you to your sister."

Teeming with rage, Petunia followed him because she could think of nothing else to do. They went through stone corridors, so ancient that she could smell the must of the aged rocks and feel the floor worn down from centuries of feet passing over it. At any other time Petunia might have been interested to see Lily's school—she would never have admitted it to Lily, but nonetheless would have liked to see it. Right now she wanted to break the whole thing into bits.

Bitterly she thought she almost agreed with Voldemort; if he had his way and Muggle-born people were kept out of the wizarding world then none of this ever would have happened. She would be happily engaged in studying for finals and enjoying the last few weeks of school before graduating with her friends at St. Mary's, Lily clapping from the audience as she received her diploma from the Headmaster.

Would they even let her go back to school in time to graduate? Or would Dumbledore keep on with hiding her from Voldemort and the Death Eaters until she rotted away in this castle, her passing unremarked upon because the only people who knew she was here couldn't say anything?

They reached a door marked "Hospital Wing" and Dumbledore went right in, not even bothering to knock. Inside long rows of beds lined the walls, and on the very last one a shock of bright red hair shone bright against a huddled mass of black Hogwarts robes.

"Miss Evans?" said Dumbledore softly. "Miss Evans, your sister is here."

Lily sat up and turned around, her eyes widening to see Petunia standing there dressed in wizarding robes. Dumbledore nodded to both of them and strode out; Petunia heard clearly the click of the lock as he shut the door, and sighed.

"How did you get here?" Lily asked, her eyes sweeping up and down her sister's body as if unable to believe the sight.

"Dumbledore brought me," said Petunia. "From my school."

"I suppose he wanted to keep you safe from You-Know-Who," Lily said dubiously.

Her eyes were suspiciously bright and red, and her face rather pale. Petunia suspected she'd been crying. "Petunia, I'm so sorry," Lily said, her voice breaking a little. "Petunia, it's my fault they're dead, I never should have come here. You-Know-Who hates Muggle-borns, he must have found out somehow, I don't know why he would have done anything to them because I've never done anything to fight him, nothing, but who knows with a crazy madman like that?"

Petunia hadn't even realized she was going to spill the whole story to her sister—Augur, the Order, everything—until she started coughing so hard she had to sit down on one of the beds.

Damn Dumbledore, he'd been right.

The shock took her by surprise and even though she had been thinking only moments ago that it was Lily's fault, this was wrong. Voldemort had not killed their parents because of Lily's being Muggle-born; she doubted he even knew about Lily. Maybe the chain of events had been started because of Lily—but it was not her fault.

But she couldn't tell her sister that, though she desperately wanted to explain just why it wasn't Lily's fault. All her anger had evaporated at the sight of Lily's tear-stained face and wide, grief-stricken eyes.

Lily, crying again, hopped from her bed to Petunia's and put her arms around her sister as she struggled to stop the coughing fit. "Please forgive me, Petunia, please, I'm sorry, please don't hate me, I should never have opened that letter, I should have gone to St. Mary's with you!"

All exactly what Petunia had been thinking.

"No," she said, finally getting her breath back. "It's not your fault—it's not." She had meant to say, It's Voldemort's, but apparently even that was too much under Dumbledore's spell.

Lily's arms tightened around her. "I'm glad you're here, Petunia," she said softly.

Petunia took her sister's hands and clutched them tightly. "I missed you," she said, meaning more than simply the events of the past few days.

"What are we going to do?" whispered Lily. "There's nowhere we can go." A grandmother neither of them had ever met had been their last living relative besides their parents, and she had died years ago.

"I'm eighteen soon," Petunia said slowly. "I can live on my own. We'll have money from Mum and Dad's will, and from the insurance for the house... I can get a flat somewhere. A job. You can come stay with me during holidays."

"Where?" said Lily.

"I don't know," Petunia said. "London, maybe."

Though she couldn't tell Lily at the moment, of course, she was thinking of the job Augur had offered her at the Ministry of Magic. Surely they would let her tell Lily then... and both of them could live in the wizarding world, Muggle parents no longer a tip-off to humbler origins.

Still, Petunia wondered, did she really want to lose herself in the war again? Immersed in the fight, she would no longer be split between two worlds, neither wholly part of one nor the other, but she had no friends in the wizarding world. She knew only bits and pieces of it, and she would have to rely on Lily for a great deal because she could do no real magic of her own.

It would keep them together, though... and for that, it might be worth it.

Might.

Petunia sighed, wondering if this was the time to decide. She thought not. "We can figure it all out later," said Petunia softly. A quiet sob came from her sister, and for a long moment Petunia simply let her cry. She stroked her sister's hair, wishing she had her crystal ball for one reason, and one alone: she had absolutely no idea what would happen next—and with that, no clue what to do about anything at all.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-: