NEW BLOOD INTERNATIONAL ACADEMY
Disclaimer: I own only the original characters in this story. All other characters belong to their creators.
Chapter Three
Solutions: Part 1
When Petunia was eight she had a dog, a beautiful female red setter by the name of Lucky. She had been the runt of her litter and Papa's boss was poised to kill the useless thing when Papa had offered to take her off his hands. Ironically, Lucky had ended up taller than her brothers and sisters, stopping at a respectable 67cm. Lucky was the nicest, most patient, most loyal animal in the whole town. Every morning she refused to stay home and would accompany Petunia's mother, her mistress and her mistress's little sister Lily to school. Every afternoon Lucky would return to lie at the gates and await her mistresses to accompany them back home. No one could persuade Lucky that her protection of her mistresses was unnecessary. Petunia loved that dog with all of her little eight-year-old heart.
One morning, when Petunia was all of eight-and-three-quarters, the family opened their door to find Lucky covered in blood, cuts and bites. A stray dog had wandered onto the Evans' porch and Lucky had viciously chased it away, coming from the fight battered but victorious. The family could not afford a vet for their beloved pet. Mama did her best to clean and treat the wounds, but after that day Lucky was never the same. She became moody, jumpy, very easily angered, even snapping at Petunia one time, nearly biting the little girl's hand. Six weeks after the fight and it was obvious that Lucky was very sick. She could barely eat and had lost a tremendous amount of weight. She looked tired all the time and started walking very slowly and at times even had problems standing upright. Her eyes had a glazed look to it and her nose, once cold and wet, had gotten very dry and even had cracks on it. Petunia often felt like crying whenever she saw Lucky. Mama did the best she could but it was obvious nothing she did worked.
Recently, the dog had taken to sleeping in corners or under the couch and would even get aggressive whenever Mama came near.
The day Petunia turned nine, Mama decided to celebrate a little and scraped a few shillings together. Papa had already gone to work and Mama, telling Petunia to mind her sister for a few minutes, placed her weather-beaten coat and hat on and struggled out through the snow to the little baker's shop on the corner. Leaving a yawning Lily, Petunia had gone to get breakfast ready, excitement obvious in every move she made.
It had been only five minutes.
Just five minutes of not watching a little sister who had a nasty habit of always finding herself in trouble. Petunia heard Lucky's loud yelp and knew her sister, not watching where she was going, had once again stepped on the poor dog's tail. As was usual with these instances, Petunia was already forming a mental scolding to unleash on the five year old when menacing growls stopped her cold. Rushing into the living room Petunia had enough time to glimpse the almost crazed eyes of the animal before her dog, her beloved Lucky, rushed from its place and leaped for her sister's throat. Lily screamed and everything was moving so fast; Petunia didn't think, she couldn't think. Something in her rose up and she instinctively reached out to Lucky and pulled. Blood splattered across the floor and walls and the dog dropped in mid-jump hitting the floor with a loud thump. In the sudden deafening silence Petunia just stared at the blood everywhere, even on the furniture and her sister, before dropping into a dead faint.
When she woke up Mama was seated by her bedside, red-eyed and looking terribly worried. At first Petunia did not remember what had happened, but then the memories came back and the nine year old found herself retching into a waste basket on the old wooden floor. Mama held the shaking and crying nine year old, gently holding her hair out of the way and murmuring comforting things. Finally, the child stopped heaving and Mama helped her weakened daughter back into bed where she soon enough fell into an uneasy sleep.
Getting up Mrs. Evans headed to the closet where they kept the cleaning supplies and stood in the doorway to stare once again at her blood-splattered living room. Her husband had already taken Lucky to be buried or the dog would still be lying there. Suddenly feeling very weak, the woman leaned against the wall and slowly closed her eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks as she relived the nightmare of opening her front door to the house. Never had such terror gripped her as when she returned home to find blood everywhere, her elder daughter lying unmoving on the ground with a crying Lily shaking her and a dead dog nearby. For a moment she had flashed back to a similar scene but that was her mother lying on the ground and that was her sister that was crying. Never in her life had she felt such fear upon walking on such a scene for the second time in her life and thank God Thank God that her children were alive. That she did not come home to face her worst fear. That her little Petunia did whatever she had done. That she wasn't going to bury her younger child like she had had to bury her brutalized mother. Taking out the cleaning supplies, Mrs Evans hummed to herself trying futilely to stop the violent trembling of her limbs.
"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see."
The song Amazing Grace echoed quietly through the room as she diligently scrubbed at all the blood until her hands were blistered. From her room, just a little way off from the living room, lay a little blond-haired girl with eyes wide open as she hummed along with her mother, tears silently sliding out the corner of her eyes.
...
When Lily got her Hogwarts letter Papa was not the only person who was relieved there was an explanation. True, Petunia did not have all the little strange mishaps Lily did but what other explanation was there than that their elder daughter was a witch as well? So it was with no little surprise that the family met the explanation that Petunia was as muggle as her parents. Instinctively knowing to say nothing of the event to the Hogwarts representative, the Evans hid their confusion behind faked enthusiasm and calm smiles. The next morning, a determined Petunia mailed a letter to the Hogwarts headmaster requesting a place at Hogwarts though she did not say why she was so sure she was magical. She did not know why, but both she and her parents were very hesitant in informing anyone who didn't already know of what happened. Papa had not even found any wounds on Lucky, as if the blood had been ripped out of the dog's very pores. Even Lily, who had by now completely forgotten that defining event, was not told. The rejection letter Petunia had received the next day infuriated her. It was worded kindly true, but there was a rather condescending undertone that had Petunia both gritting her teeth and blinking in complete utter confusion, because, because...
If she was not a witch then... what was she?