Story Title: Petunia the Petulant

Chapter Title: Flora and Fauna


Draco and Professor Lupin had been apparently having an animated conversation when Petunia entered the potions classroom. She walked a few steps past the doorway, stopped, and nervously cleared her throat. The blonde boy and the older man leaning against the desk at the front looked up.

"I'm to report to Draco Malfoy," she said softly, readjusting the large cauldron she was holding awkwardly; it was filled with a small stand of vials, a textbook, several cloth bags of what presumably were herbs, some dirt, and a few other items in the bottom she hadn't yet seen.

"Oh yes," said Draco. "I'm to tutor you, here. This is the potions classroom." The older man appeared to be an instructor. He had reddish-brown hair and keen eyes. The corners of his mouth had turned up into a polite smile, by way of greeting. He nodded. "This is Professor Lupin. Professor, Mrs. Dursley, Harry's aunt."

"Of course," the professor said. He looks at me like he knows me, Petunia thought. She couldn't remember if she returned his nod. She quickly carried her oversized burden to the front row of long students' desks and put it on the first one, gathered her skirt, and slid into the seat. She avoided looking at them and began to investigate the cauldron's contents, taking each item out one at a time and gingerly holding it close to her face with her thumb and forefinger, before placing it on the table. She did her best to look preoccupied in this task, hoping that they would believe this to be interest in her lesson, and think her a very determined, conscientious student.

But she could not help hearing how they lowered their voices to almost a whisper to continue whatever they'd been talking about. Perhaps it had been about her, and that's why they'd hushed up. She couldn't help it. Her hands trembled, and tears leaked from her eyes. She kept trying to open the bag in her hands, but she couldn't untie the threaded knot. Her fingers and nails were still covered with dirt, she noticed; she had already wiped her eyes a few times. She must look a sight. On top of it all, her legs were now itching, and after she could take it no longer, she began to rub one calf against the other to relieve the itch. Her legs were probably dirty, too, she thought.

Finally, the professor said in a normal tone that he'd better be off and leave Draco to his tutoring. Petunia wiped her eyes and sniffed, but she thought she heard Draco whisper, "Professor..." It was quiet. She sighed and waited for Lupin to leave, but he stopped right next to her. She looked up.

"Mrs. Dursley, are you all right?" Lupin's keen eyes seemed full of such genuine

concern, and his voice so kind, so warm compared to Severus's, that she lost all composure. Tears streamed freely.

"Yes, I'm all right," she cracked. Then she shook her head "no" and began to sob.

Immediately Lupin sat next to her in the bench and put his arm around her. Draco had come over as well.

"What is it? What's wrong?" He asked kindly. She could feel them both looking at her and kept her head down. They were just making it worse. "You can tell us. Go on." She sighed again and waited until she'd gotten control of her breathing.

"I don't know how to explain it. I don't know if you can understand." They listened quietly and she sniffed again, focusing her attention on the kind professor with his arm around her. She realized how long it had been since she'd felt anything like a hug...when was the last time?! Before Dudley left, after the funeral?

"I...I..." She took a deep, shuddering breath, and continued in a normal voice. "I wish I didn't care so much. But, Snape-" Lupin cut her off with an exasperated sigh. She saw him and Draco exchange a knowing look.

"Say no more, Mrs. Dursley. I can't even imagine what it must be like for you to have to have him as a mentor. I mean," he added a little hastily, "He is a great man. A great man." Petunia did not hide her shock as she stared at him. "Oh, believe me. He's much more noble than he appears to be. Dedicated, and borders, sometimes, on obsessed. If he's sharp with you it's just because he's found this puzzle he wants to solve, see..."

"And he wants to be the first one to do it," added Draco.

"Yes. Severus is fascinated with you. Yes, I mean it," he persisted when she shook her

head in disbelief.

"He hates me." Both Lupin and Draco chuckled, to her irritation.

"That's what Snape attention feels like," said Draco. "Everyone feels that way. I mean, unless you manage to get on his good side, where he feels like he is tolerating you. But it's like he's always waiting for you to slip up, and prove to him he's infinitely superior."

"Exactly!" Petunia answered, amazed to have it summed up so well by this wizard boy. "I find him so loathsome, I feel as if I shouldn't care what he thinks. But wh-when he

acts as though I've disappointed him somehow..." The tremor returned to her voice. The professor suddenly pulled out a wand, gave it a whoosh, and manifested a handkerchief, which he handed to Petunia. She smiled gratefully. As if not to be outdone, Draco conjured a chocolate bar.

"This tends to work for my mother," he explained with a smile. Petunia couldn't help a little laugh at that. She took it and broke off a piece, letting it melt on her tongue. It really did seem to calm her down ever so slightly.

"We have a bit of a history, Professor...Lupin, was it?" He nodded, with a strange expression.

"Believe it or not, I know a little something about that history," he said carefully, and closed his mouth as if to keep himself from revealing a secret.

"Oh? Yes, of course, I suppose with my nephew at the school, and my sister-before." Petunia suddenly felt cold inside, like she had when Vernon died, when she'd watched his casket being lowered into the grave, dirt and roses following as they were cast on top. It was pretty much what she always felt, when she thought about Lily. She buried the feeling that stopped her crying deep down.

"Severus seems to have given up on me," she continued, gloomy. "I haven't seen him for most of this week, except in passing, and to take assignments. I try to ask him questions, and I can tell when he answers me he's not really putting effort into it, not trying to help me. As if it's a waste of time. Instead he's always hiding out in his office, or wherever the devil he goes."

"I don't know that this is a good thing, but Severus Snape giving up on anything is an impossibility. Whatever he's doing, whatever is keeping him away from you, I promise you, it has everything to do with you. He's busy trying to sort it out. Burying his nose in some old tomes, or who knows what."

"That seems...odd," she faltered. Could he really be simply preoccupied, so much so that he was neglecting to actually teach her to use magic?

"He'll never give up. Not on you, but more importantly, not on whatever it is about this that's got his attention." Lupin gave her a wry smile.

"You're stuck with him," Draco added, "at least until you decide otherwise.

She sniffed and shuddered again, thinking.

"The thing is," she began, her eyebrows wrinkling, "He was very interested in teaching me, at the beginning. He hardly let me have any rest, or be alone with my thoughts. If I wasn't with him, I was supposed to be practicing. It was pointless, though. I could never produce any of the effects he wanted me to. And he always had me drinking these strange, horrible concoctions. Muddy, mossy drinks in horrid old goblets, tinctures, medicines, I dunno what...and eating strange plants. I've been sick more times I can count. I've barely gotten any sleep, my dreams have been outrageous and make no sense, and when I look in the mirror I hardly recognize myself. It's not as bad now, since the concoctions stopped. But I think I'm still getting some of it out of my system."

"I probably shouldn't tell you this..." It appeared Lupin might share his secret after all. "I am fairly certain Snape has been working on a new theory. He had one before, and when it realized it wasn't working, he had to go back to the beginning. That's why he seems to have momentarily lost interest."

"Do you know what it is?" She prodded. Lupin looked thoughtful, but shook his head.

"No...no. I know a little about where he started, but as to what he's on now, it would be merely speculation. We'll just have to wait and see, I'm afraid. But as to the original theory..."

"Yes?"

Lupin looked at Draco, raising his eyebrows, as if to ask his opinion. Draco shrugged.

"The reason Snape had you imbibing all those potions and tinctures, Mrs. Dursley, is he thought might be part Fey."

"Parfait? What's a parfait?"

"Fairy. Fey folk. You know. Fey."

"You mean fairies?! Like Tinkerbell?" She found this so incredulous that she completely forgot that she'd been crying, and why.

"That's right."

"I'm going to have to get used to hearing things like that," she finally said, after a long pause. Lupin seemed amused.

"He must have thought there to be some way to 'activate' your dormant fairy genetics. With Severus, always comes back around to bloodlines." He said this rather darkly, but Petunia didn't understand why.

"Well. Slytherin." Draco said, as if this were some kind of answer.

"But then, so is obsession," Lupin pointed out. "Obsession, power, discovery, achievement, knowledge...everything to the ultimate extreme. Very typical qualities." But Petunia was not following, as she was still trying to figure out what fairies and genetics had to do with 'slithering in.'

"Well, in any case," Lupin continued, "It is a sensible place to start. There have always been tales and rumored histories of people having unusual ability because someone's parents married a fey. It's a go to explanation. Quite nature he started there, when I think about it. Although Mrs. Dursley, I imagine for you it must be like being told all the fairy tales you grew up with were actually real."

"Yes-real," she repeated, becoming sad again. That's how it had been when Lily gained more and more control over her magic, until she had been whisked off to wizarding school. It had been thrilling at first. They would read their favorite stories about heroines and fairy godmothers, witches and goddesses and dryads, and then they'd go outside and play.

And without even thinking about it, Lily would make something happen, something that brought the story to life. The air would shimmer and a breeze would spring up from nowhere, making their pig-tales dance, and sounding like the sighing of trees. You couldn't be certain, but you might hear strains of music playing as it passed by. And like a mirage, you could almost see the story, as they retold it on their own, with Lily.

But as they grew, and the worlds of imagination and reality pulled apart, it became harder and harder for Petunia to accept what she saw. And she was torn, between jealousy and confusion. She wondered about the world around her, and whether or not she could believe what she saw or touched with her own senses, when Lily could simply wave away reality and live in the in-between without the slightest discomfort. Lily had been so happy, and Petunia, so miserable. It didn't seem fair.

Sometimes she felt as if her sister were doing it on purpose-not just showing off, but toying with her mind, causing her to doubt her own experience and understanding, obliterating Petunia's developing sense of herself. More and more, she resented having to constantly resist the temptation to ask Lily what she thought about anything, as if she had some kind of special final say on what, who, and how to be in the world.

Fairy tales. Petunia through away all her fantasy books, picked up novella series about cliques and make-up and girls becoming women, and never went back. When she had Dudley, she saw to it that no fairy tales ever ended up in her house, and anytime he showed possible interest, she redirected his attention to science and industry, mechanics, sports, money, and material success. Because that was still something she could do quite well, with the help of well bred spouse who owned his own business and was somebody in the world.

In the midst of her sad reverie, Petunia realized they had been talking, and she had not kept up with the conversation. Her bitterness had returned, and she was glad she was all cried out, otherwise she might have started all over again.

"-with Professor Sprout?" Lupin was asking her.

"Huh? Oh...yes," she bluffed, guessing that he had finally noticed how grubby she looked. "I've just come from there this morning. That's why there's dirt all over me," she finished apologetically.

"He probably believes that's a more logical place for you to start, rather than trying to turn teapots into cats and levitate house furniture," put in Draco.

"Dealing with earth and solid things you can wrap your mind around. People still practice those forms of witchcraft, non-wizards and witches," Lupin explained, and Petunia noted he avoided using the world "Muggles."

"So...you think that's why he pulled me back, and gave me this stuff to work on? Not...because he thought I was too hopeless or stupid?"

"Of course not!" Lupin put his arm around her again, squeezing her a little too familiarly, but she knew he was trying to reassure her. "He really should have started there to begin with, but he might have gotten ahead of himself. Give him, and yourself, some time. He'll circle back around soon enough, and then you'll be so busy you'll wish you could back to potions."

"Heh."

"Well, I've got to get going," Lupin said, standing up and looking as if he'd just remembered what time it was. "I promised Hermione and Neville I'd give them an extra study session tonight, and I haven't prepared yet. I've got to make sure I eat something, too. I'm famished. You coming tonight, Draco?"

Draco shook his head.

"Probably not tonight. But I'll be there on Monday."

"All right. Until then, Draco. Mrs. Dursley," he said, bowing and taking her hand, "It's been a genuine pleasure. I hope to become more acquainted. I was friends with your sister, Lily...It's clear you're every bit as intriguing, and bound for some great things, I think." He winked, not seeming to mind how she flinched at the mention of Lily, and started to pull her hand away. "Cheers."

"Good afternoon," she said stiffly, but as he left the room and headed, whistling, up the stairs, she thought it was hard not to like him.

"So, should we get started?"

"Yes, please," she said to Draco shyly, and as they opened her textbook and began looking over the assigned spell, she soon lost herself in concentration.

The chocolate certainly helped.

Severus Snape had, in fact, been trying to come up with a new theory, and he had an inkling of one. But he was starting to doubt himself, and this made him angrier at Mrs. Dursley, as if it were her fault. If she did not have some kind of magical link through fairy blood or something of that nature, then he must rule out the possibility that she had been simply overlooked.

And if that were true, that would open up a whole inquiry that would be both controversial and inconvenient for all wizarding institutions in Europe. It would result in some serious soul-searching on the part of many witches and wizards. It might, on the negative, lend credence to blood purists, although they did not have the whole picture because they did not acknowledge mixed families. Their theorizing was based more on fear, distrust and greed than any scientific premise, anyway.

It would be a huge mess, that's for certain. But not Snape's mess. That would be for everyone else to sort out. But he would have a nice legacy, perhaps a new academic endeavor to build upon in these upper middle years of his life. If Petunia Dursley had been overlooked, then it could simply be a matter of application, affected perhaps by mental illness, or a learning disorder. He would have to push her, hard. He'd have to make sure they'd gone every possible route in order for him to be secure enough to pursue another hypothesis.

Of his colleagues at Hogwarts, Remus Lupin was the only one he respected enough to share even a bit of his musings. For one thing, Remus was very knowledgeable and had a clever way of looking at things, and his life experience, especially as a transforming being, was invaluable.

For another, unlike Minerva or any of the others, he had no need to pry into Severus's business, no need to "understand" Severus so that he could feel more comfortable, or to hound Severus to explain himself on this or that decision. Professor Lupin was also, like him, an outsider. A freak. If Severus Snape had any friends, which he didn't, Remus Lupin would be the closest to being called one. (This, despite the fact that Harry Potter seemed to think they were friends now – an assumption he was determined to correct.)

After setting Mrs. Dursley up to be tutored by Malfoy – Malfoy was no great potions study, but he was determined and thorough, and less meddlesome than Miss Granger - it would be another four days before Severus would come back around to thinking about checking in on his student himself.

It did not go well.

It so happened that Mrs. Dursley was actually in the midst of a tutoring session with Draco, which seemed an opportune time to check her progress. Snape, propelled by a renewed sense of mission, billowed into the Potions classroom where he stopped cold –

At the front of the room was a gigantic mess. It looked like something had exploded all over both Petunia and Draco. A greenish, mushy liquid, which looked like it had spilled some time ago, still dribbled from the desk onto the floor. Soiled vials were everywhere; would those stains ever come out?! No one, it seemed, had thought to remove the textbook from its dangerous proximity to the mess. The cauldron sat pushed aside and forgotten, and some ungodly yellow smoke was pouring out of it. And in the midst of this chaos sat his student...laughing. Peels of laughter erupted and echoed in the room as both Malfoy and Petunia grinned like silly little idiots. Snape's face ran hot and his fury ran cold.

It was Malfoy who saw him first. His smile instantly vanished as if it had been slapped from his face. The change was so dramatic, that Petunia swiveled on her bench to see what he was looking at; she saw Severus, and their eyes met. She quickly looked down. If someone had shot ice water into her eyes, it could not have hurt more. She did not know why he struck such fear into her...but her stomach sank, and a feeling she had not had for a long time, one of shame for being caught misbehaving as a child, overcame her.

"Professor, you're just in time," tried Draco. "I was just showing Mrs. Dursley -"

"Yes we were just - " Petunia also stammered. She was already shrinking, expecting to

be cowering under his looming shadow in a moment.

But Snape said nothing. He turned on his heel and walked out.