Hogwarts, A History

It was Hogwarts. The place which she'd not been allowed to come all those years ago, when she'd written to the headmaster and pleaded him to come...yes, and Severus knew about it, because he had gloated over her failure to sway Dumbledore, and Lily had been in on it with him. All those years, she mused, curled up on the small bed in her tiny corner in what she'd been told was the Hospital Wing, when she'd dreamed of those doors that were closed to her.

Now she'd seen them, walked through them…she had thought she would feel something, perhaps a spark, a warmth, a feeling of finally being home…she'd forgotten that she'd believed that until she had actually stood in that hall, stiff and awkward, and a whole head higher than the throng of chosen children on their way to their dormitories. All she'd felt was wrong.

And sick…now that she remembered it. Her head had hurt then, but she'd been so intent on her purpose, and so disturbed by seeing him standing there, eyes glittering, wielding ultimate power to tell her what she was and was not worth all over again.

But she was here. That other part of her chimed in again. She looked about the room. Except for the stone walls that gave away the fact that it was a castle, it had that same sterile coziness that the very best of hospitals she'd been to always had. Her bed had been surrounded by dark curtains, and she suspected an additional partition of some kind gave her added privacy, but she could hear the muffled conversations and bustling from other parts of the wing. Luckily, it had not taken her long to discover the bathroom, which she'd strategically been placed by at the Headmaster's orders, she imagined. She had not yet got up the courage to go and see what kind of bathroom lay behind that strange, ornate door.

Instead, she'd spent all night steeling herself against screaming again when the "elf" showed up, and vowed to herself that she'd build on her success by managing to speak to him by morning, when he brought her breakfast. A nurse had come in at some point, but it seemed it was when she was half asleep and half awake, or in some other liminal, listless state, and did not stay long enough to start up a conversation. Other than that, she'd had no human contact for hours, and drifted in and out of consciousness.

"Good morning, Mrs. Dursley," the little voice said, startling her awake, and she saw the grey demon-er, elf-standing just inside a fold of one curtain, a tray in its clawed hands, and what was probably a warm towel draped over its arm.

"G-Good morning," she gargled, and tried to smile but was pretty sure it just came out looking like barred teeth. Oh well.

The elf seemed pleased, however, and took this as a solicitation to come forward. It moved a little too quickly toward her, putting out the tray, and she had to hold herself steady so she would not draw herself back into the wall. To do so would not only be unquestionably insulting, but worse, would merely prove him right. And she would not have such a report of her condition going back to him.

"-Headmaster asked me to pass on the message that the nurses have impressed upon him the weakness of your condition, and that though he cannot hold you here, you are strongly encouraged to stay until you have made a full recovery, which, he hopes, should not take more than a few days," the elf was saying to her now, and she could have sworn that he was trying to sound as important as possible.

Ugh.

"I have not seen a physician."

"Er, the nurses-"

"You keep saying nurses. I have not yet had a report from one, or seen even a physician, unless one has materialized and disappeared again while I've been asleep, so you must understand I'm a little confused. Is there a reason one of the nurses cannot come to give me this message? Or perhaps the Headmaster himself?"

Her boldness grew as she spoke her thoughts aloud, for she truly wanted to know the answer. What was her condition, anyway? What had Severus done to her? Everything seemed so foggy after the humiliating treatment in Severus's office. The pain in her head never completely went away, but was there faintly behind her eyes and in the middle of her forehead, a dull pressure deep inside. She wondered if she were on the verge of an anyeurism, and almost hoped that she was.

The elf was now shifting from one foot to the other, looking very restless. It made her skin crawl. She looked away, trying to take more interest in the tray beside her bed than she had.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am…I don't know much about these things…I'm usually in the kitchen."

"The kitchen? Then why on earth did he send you?" She demanded, forgetting not to be rude.

"Um…well, you see, he…that is…it's rather hard to explain, except that I think he wishes to respect your…er, the delicate details of your condition…"

"Delicate?" She threw aside her blanket and swung her legs to the floor, staring at the creature in disbelief. "Do you mean to tell me that he is so embarrassed to have me here, he will not even disclose his horrible error to the medical staff?"

"Erm…error? I'm sorry, I don't…" the elf was backing away, but now Petunia was angry, and forgot completely that she was not talking to another human being.

"Yes, error! How the ruddy hell are they supposed to treat me, if he won't he even tell them what he's done to me?" She stood up, teetered for a second while the elf's eyes widened in alarm, and straightened, putting her hands on her hips. "Would you please-" the word came out with effort-"tell that coward of a Headmaster that I'm not planning on keeping his secret for much longer, and that I expect a better explanation and an apology from his very own lips, or else I will write to my nephew, no matter how 'estranged' he may think us to be, and I know he will take up my cause."

"Tell that to Mr. Snape, and in the meantime, please do let him know that as long as I'm not going to be properly treated by a physician, I shall wander about as I please, and so he should not be surprised to see me conversing with his precious students, whom I'm sure will be only too glad to explain to their parents about the Muggle woman being kept in the school."

Elf though it was, the creature was clearly terrified. Without another word, it popped out of existence, and she was alone again. She felt better.

But she could not make good on her threat, other than to open one of the curtains for a brief moment and peer out into the hospital wing, quickly pulling it in place again when she saw the patients sitting in their beds, chatting and playing games or reading books. A nurse was indeed bustling about, but not once did she seem to glance Petunia's way. No word came back from Severus. She began to feel very much alone, and decided to go back to sleep.

Sometime in the middle of the day she awoke, restless. Listening for a moment, she heard that all was quiet. If she were going to visit the bathroom, now would be the time. She wondered if there would be a shower, and if so, she would be brave enough to use it.

She stretched and got out of bed before she could think twice about it. She had nothing but the hospital pajamas and the mourning clothes in which she'd arrived, which seemed to have been cleaned, pressed and laid over the base of her bed. She finally opted for the more respectable look. At least the black wouldn't look out of place amongst robes…

"Ridiculous," she muttered as she pulled on her clothes, "worrying about looking out of place in a place like this!" Then, with the resolution of a woman on a mission, she straightened her shoulders, whipped the curtains aside, and marched to the bathroom door…

That evening, downstairs in the dungeons, soft chatter from members of the Hogwarts faculty began to die down as Headmaster Snape slipped into the Potions classroom. Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Slughorn, Trelawney, Firenze, Binns, Sinistra, Hooch, Lupin, and Hagrid turned to him and looked expectant, each expressing quiet awe. Severus's mouth twitched, unused as he was to this reception among them, although not at all displeased.

Ever since the truth about his loyalty to Dumbledore, even at the point of death, had become public knowledge and he had made a stunning recovery from his wounds after several weeks in critical care, he had returned to his life to find himself unexpectedly looked to for leadership. It was almost as if all of Hogwarts had decided that he was the natural bearer of Dumbledore's legacy, and it could be no one else.

It hadn't helped, of course, that Harry Potter seemed to go out of his way whenever possible to talk about what a hero he thought Severus had been. Mercifully, Potter had the sense to be discreet about the details where Severus's memories of Lily were concerned, although this knowledge only soured his dislike of the boy into a general, grudging discomfort in his presence. Meanwhile, while Potter's words swayed public opinion, the staff at Hogwarts immediately turned to him for direction with matters that clearly belonged in the realm of the Headmaster.

Thus, with some embarrassment, he had finally taken back the office, suffering through the most torturous recognition ceremony-the Ministry's idea-he could have imagined in his worst nightmares, grimacing politely through it all. He'd protested with Minerva a bit, and finally convinced her to become his assistant, but everyone knew that this was merely a title and nothing much more.

Like it or not, he mused, looking around the room, the horror of Voldemort's return and relief of his fall had brought them closer together, especially those who had been closest to Dumbledore and members of the Order of the Phoenix. He gave a sharp, awkward nod to acknowledge their respect.

"So wha's this abou' 'Arry's Aunt comin' to the school?" Hagrid wanted to know. Professor Binns, who had obviously been talking excitedly with him a moment before, looked curiously at Snape as he floated in Hagrid's enormous shadow. Severus heaved a huge, exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes.

"You've heard correctly, although I meant to break it to you myself this evening. Harry Potter's Aunt Petunia Dursley has come to Hogwarts. She had an-unfortunate episode in my office during-er, a rather heated conversation, and is currently in the Hospitality Wing, recovering. Lupin, who was sitting on one of the tables near the front of the classroom where he'd been talking in low tones to McGonagall, looked up, scrutinizing him. Severus looked evenly at him for a moment, then avoided his eyes and cleared his throat.

"I'm afraid I must take some responsibility for the accident, although I was defending myself. The woman, you see, had a wand-"

The room was filled with gasps.

"Good lord!" said Minerva, obviously horrified. "Wherever did she get one from?"

"I don't know, but I intend to find out."

"Is she all right? It didn't…explode on her, or something, did it?" Mrs. Sprout wanted to know.

"Was it cursed?" Lupin asked, his eyes still boring keenly into Severus's, as if searching for more information.

Many other questions and even some jokes followed this, so that Severus had to wait to finish his answer.

"Wait…" He raised his hand imperiously, enjoying the immediate silence that followed, "Not only does Mrs. Dursley have a wand, but she is prepared to use it. She is adamant about staying on the premises. You may not all realize this, but she has a history with Hogwarts. Her sister, as you know, was Lily Potter, whom she practically disowned, and with the recent passing of Harry's uncle, it seems that she has been possessed of a sudden need to follow in her sister's footsteps. The whim," he smirked, "of a very disturbed woman. Nevertheless, I'm certain she's quite serious. Her distress was so great that when I tried to convince her that this was not a place for her, she-"

Severus stopped here, realizing that he wasn't sure how much he wanted them to know. What had happened in his office had been so extraordinary he had not had time to explore its implications himself, and quite frankly, that was not something he wished to share. But still, there was nothing for it, if he were going to have his way. He'd just have to tell them, and hope that they would trust him with dealing with Petunia from here on.

Slughorn was raising his eyebrows, intrigued, and Lupin gazed at him all the more thoughtfully.

"-She seemed to have been affected by merely holding the wand while in her state-"

"What do you mean, 'affected?'" Lupin asked.

"I mean just that," Severus shortly replied, trying hard not to betray his impatience. "Whether through the power of the magical object in her hand, or the intensified presence of magic in our halls, or a combination of both, she displayed some…some…effect-"

"Effect? You mean, aptitude?" pressed Slughorn, who did not seem as shocked as the others.

"Perhaps," Severus finally admitted, unable to think of any other answer. "Yes, perhaps. Or, perhaps a mere anomaly. I do not know. It's not my usual area of expertise."

No one said anything to this, all appearing to take in this new information.

"That being said," he began again, seeing that the worst had passed, "I think it is without question the wise course of action to keep her here for the time being, under the care of Madame Pomfrey, in case there are any lingering ill effects."

"Absolutely."

"Yes, of course," were the answers from around the room as there was general nodding in agreement.

"And until we can notify Potter of his aunt's condition," Minerva put in, partly as a question.

"Yes, naturally," Severus reluctantly conceded, frowning. He was not sure what Potter's response to his aunt's fancy would be, but he did not like the idea of having to wait to go through him to probe the incident himself. Potter, of course, would do nothing but get in the way, but perhaps, with his newfound near idol worship of Dumbledore's most loyal man, Severus would be able to cross that bridge when he got to it.

"Of course, 'Arry's got more important things on 'is mind these days," Hagrid grunted.

"I agree," said Lupin, still looking at Severus, although now curiously. "We don't need him to worry about this right now. She's safe here, for the time being."

"Although we may want to notify the Minister, Severus, since he is most experienced with Muggles," said Minerva sensibly. Severus gave a noncommittal huff.

"I will, of course, let Arthur know as soon as I have a moment."

"What do you need from us?" asked Lupin.

"Yes, does Madam Pomfrey need any support? I think between I and Neville, who is quite knowledgeable about Muggle remedies, and then of course there is Mrs. Granger at the Ministry-"

"Yes, yes, all good ideas," Severus impatiently cut in. "It's best, I believe, if we limit our attention to Mrs. Dursley to myself and one or two more for the time being, until she becomes more…herself."

"A'righ by me," Hagrid grunted. "The Dursleys were n'er very friendly to 'im as it was, if I remember righ'ly. I'm in no 'urry to see that woman again m'self."

"Although it is intriguing, her wanting to spend time at Hogwarts, and carrying a wand and whatnot," Slughorn mused.

"Yes, indeed it is!" Piped up Binns, floating forward. "You know it almost reminds me of-"

"But I guess the question is, Severus, will we let her stay?" Lupin asked finally, and everyone seemed to remember that this was the most interesting question of all.

Severus sighed.

"I don't know. It is certain that she is not suited to these halls, and could possibly be a great distraction to our students, but…"

"…in a way, we have no choice," Firenze finished, one hoof scratching the back of his other hind leg as he folded his arms. "She is grieving, after all."

"Yes, true," Flitwick agreed. "Maybe she needs to be here."

"I'm all right with whatever you decide, Severus, assuming Harry doesn't have other plans when he returns," Lupin said supportively, and Severus began to feel relieved. So he would be able to decide Petunia's fate. And perhaps discover more about how she was able to produce that Patronus effect, he mused. He would, of course, continue to keep this burning curiosity to himself.

"Excellent!" Slughorn stood up. "Then it's settled. Severus, let us know if you need anything, anything at all. May I assume we're free to retire for the evening? My apologies, Headmaster, but I'm quite exhausted, and I would like to be at my best tomorrow for the first-years…anyone for a nightcap?" He yawned, and with a satisfactory nod from Severus, the faculty began to file out of the room, chattering up a storm.

Binns floated eagerly up to Severus on his way out.

"I was going to say, Headmaster, that the admittance of a Muggle to this school is not entirely without precedent. There have been some interesting cases which make an argument for exceptions here and there to be made, but of course not many are interested in discussing this! I would be happy to share some of my knowledge in this area with you sometime, when you have a moment."

"Yes, thank you, Professor," Severus replied, mildly surprised in spite of his distracted thoughts about the Patronus. "I will be looking to you presently."

"Indeed. Good night, then," Binns said brightly, and was floating out the door so as to continue talking with the rest of the faculty, when they suddenly seemed to part and Filch came barreling right through the ghost.

"Headmaster!" He shrieked, looking more elated than Severus could ever remember seeing him, even during the year of Umbridge.

"What is it, Mr. Filch?"

"That Muggle woman! She's gone and fainted. I think she met Moaning Myrtle in the toilet."