Story Title: Petunia, the Petulant

Chapter Title: Petunia's Worst Fear

Author's Note: Thank you so much for the notes and reviews! I'm making an effort to update this story at least weekly, until it is finished. Hope you are enjoying it as much as I'm enjoying writing it. :)


Petunia was making fast progress. She now had much more predictable control over magic, and her spells were requiring less conscious energy than before. When she had begun, she'd had to learn how to "feel" magic, how to identify it coursing through her body or crackling in the atmosphere around her, and how to direct its flow. Then she had had to learn how to shape it with her will, and finally, how to make both happen using only words and a wand in the same instant.

She wanted very much to show Severus how well she was doing, but he had been out of touch for days. Finally, Lupin told her that he was doing some intensive study, and had instructed Draco to continue tutoring her. Lupin would oversee the arrangement as a faculty member while Snape was gone.

Petunia was surprised at the mixture of feelings this news stirred in her. After dinner – with several Slytherin girls who had become enamored of her and hoped to convince her to give them ballet lessons – she went to her room, closed the door, and sat on her bed, trying to sort it all out. She felt...disappointed. All right, that wasn't so strange...of course she would want to show her progress off to her teacher, especially when his approval was so very rarely expressed. But she also felt...sad, she mused, as she chewed her lip, and the beginnings of tears sprang to her eyes. She could not avoid it now.

She missed Severus. His billowing, oppressive presence filled the room whenever he was with her. She was hyper-aware of every moment he made and any hint of mood change when he was around. It had become second nature, as a matter of survival at first, but now she noted how empty her daily life at Hogwarts seemed to be without her. As she allowed herself to consider this, she let a couple of tears fall onto her cheeks. She felt humiliated, that she would care so much about what he thought, that she would need his approval and his presence so much that it seemed something was missing when he was not around.

That won't do, she decided. She could not afford to allow anyone to have such power over her, especially one who also had the potential to tear her down any moment he chose. Her progress, and her goals, were far too precious to her for compromise. Her magic must be about her, not about Severus Snape. And besides, she reminded herself, wiping the tears thoughtfully with her palm, here I am at this miraculous, magical place I've always wanted to be since I was a little girl...and I'm upset because the teacher is gone?

"Ridiculous!" She hissed, as if chastising herself. "No, Professor Snape, you will not take over my mind, and you will not ruin this for me. I'm going to forget all about you while you're gone. It will be easy." And she determined to do exactly that.

Petunia had been keeping a journal for some time now, begun after Vernon's death, when she found herself completely alone with only her thoughts to keep her company. As soon as she decided that Hogwarts was an interesting enough place without 'that individual,' she started to make a list of all the things she had wanted to explore but had not had time to under Snape's watchful eye. Ideas flooded to her: there was the lake, in which there were supposedly merfolk (mermaids!), the forest, and then there were a number of rooms she had been curious about, such as the astronomy tower. And also, she scribbled hastily, there was Hagrid. And here, she stopped.

Hagrid. Why had she written that name down?

Wasn't he the gigantic, hulking teacher who lived out on the grounds, and had been close with her nephew? And she remembered, as she thought of the way he looked coldly at her whenever they passed in the halls, and how he said very little to her, that he had been the very first wizard she had met when Harry had come to live with them. He'd had some kind of absurd, flying motorbike, that made a horrible noise, and somehow flew over a river, and there were all these owls...and he had forced them to acknowledge Harry's birthday!

Now she remembered why she had written him down. It had been in the back of her mind to confront him, and actually have a conversation. Why on earth would I want to do that? She wondered. It wasn't that she wanted to make him like her, or that she wanted to take him to task for things that had happened in the years before. But it was that she thought it high time he make her acquaintance, and get to know the real Petunia, Harry's aunt and practically only living relative. If Hagrid was such great friends with her nephew, it would be important to Harry that they got on. He might not like her, but he would not be able to simply dismiss her. He would have to accept her, just as everyone else had.

"If Severus Snape can show me the faintest respect, then he bloody well can, too," she grumbled. And, having a new project to focus upon, she hung up her cloak in the wardrobe, dressed herself for the outdoors, and set out to visit the giant at his hut.

It felt like something of an adventure, she thought, as she crossed the lawn from the campus and made for the hut, whose dimmish lights looked warm against the dusk. She was glad to have something new to do. Something that had nothing to do with Professor Snape.

It wasn't until she reached the door of Hagrid's hut that she began to wonder what might happen if he gave her less than a warm welcome. But she had already raised her hand to knock on the door, so she knocked, firmly. She was met by silence. She had expected that. It would probably take a little bit of persistence for him to stop pretending he wasn't home. She waited, then knocked again. She knocked again, and called out, "Excuse me, Mr. Hagrid, it's Petunia Dursley. Harry's aunt. I was wondering if I might speak with you?"

She followed that with another, angrier knock. Nothing but silence.

Irritated, and trying not to upset herself again, she gently tried the doorknob. The door opened without any effort.

She looked inside, and saw instantly that the hut was, in fact, empty...at least of its primary occupant. She knew he had a dog – and if she had seen it, she would have shut the door and left in a hurry. But the dog was not there either, so she figured they were probably out together. She knew that he took care of many of the creatures at Hogwarts, and figured he might be making feeding rounds.

Despite its absolutely dreadful clutter, Hagrid's house struck her as very cozy and inviting. She stepped inside, thinking perhaps she would have a seat on a stool and wait for his return. Since the door had been left open, she figured that would not be too much of an imposition. But really, she was also quite curious to look around and see the way such a strange wizard lived. She had yet to visit any home other than Hogwarts, so she really had no idea what a typical wizarding house looked like.

Hagrid's was right out of a fairy tale, however. It reminded her of a gingerbread cabin, with its small, one-room design. Kettles, mugs, and tankards were littered around on shelves and in a sink, as well as on the table where she sat. Looking around, she realized that the inside of the place was much larger than the impression it gave on first sight; for such a large person, she supposed, it would have to be. A rapid tapping sound startled her, and she turned around to see a fat raven pecking at some particles on the windowsill. Seed, most likely, she thought, marveling that Hagrid would feed wild animals in his home, without even using a dish.

She heard a couple of squeaks and skitters that almost made her shriek, but she never saw what made those sounds, and that was perfectly fine with her. She spun slowly around on her seat, taking in all of the house, when suddenly her eyes landed on something impossible. She froze, and strained, not sure she could believe what she was seeing. There was a figure in a dark corner over there, between another door and a closet that was partway open. It was tall, and very still. It had the shape of a woman. It looked familiar.

In her worst nightmares, Petunia had often had the experience of things going from bad to worse, or from a little scary to terrifying. This felt exactly like that, for she knew without a doubt that the figure looking through her now was Lily. She was as she'd last seen her, an adult but younger than she would be now, with brilliant, red hair falling in waves around her beautiful face. She was seeing a ghost. This could not be Lily. But it was. And then Lily started to glide towards her, and when Petunia shrank away, she smiled cruelly...a beautiful, proud, haughty, satisfied smile. Lily was now right in front of her. She reached out a hand toward Petunia, and Petunia collapsed in a dead faint.


When Petunia awoke, she had no memory of where she was, or what had happened, and she had not yet opened her eyes. The first thing she knew was that she must have been screaming at some point, because her throat felt horribly soar. She swallowed painfully, and listened to muffled sounds around her, afraid to open her eyes. Although she could not yet remember what had happened, she knew that it had been something terrible, something that had frightened her, had almost killed her. Nightmare or reality, she wasn't sure, but the feeling was familiar enough.

The voices started to come into focus. One was growly and had a thick country accent – the image of Hagrid's face came to her mind, and she remembered who and where she was. She opened her eyes. She was lying on a bed in the hospital wing, again, with several worried nurses and teachers standing around, giving each other instructions, fetching things. The enormous bulk of Hagrid was seated next to her, and as she looked into his gigantic face, she felt a shock to see that it was covered with tears. He seemed to be talking to her.

"So, sorry about that, Mrs. Dursley! Harry is going to kill me! I should'na had that boggart in the cabin...stupid, stupid...if I'd only known..."

Petunia had no idea what he was talking about, but put together that it had something to do with what had frightened her in his cabin.

"Did I...did I faint?" she said, hearing her voice coming out weak and scratchy, as if she were still groggy from sleep.

"You poor dear, yes, you did...can't say I blame you...what an awful thing to face on your own..."

"I came to see you..." she murmured crazily, trying to sit up. She felt a strong compulsion to try to make him understand why she had entered his home and been found there by herself. "I was going to wait for you to come back. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb anything."

"Just lie back and rest, and drink this," said the stern, plump woman she remembered was called Pomphrey. She was in charge of this wing. Petunia obeyed, knowing there would be no answers for her unless she complied.

Lupin, Draco, Hermoine, and Professor McGonagall were all in the room, standing or sitting near her bed, looking very concerned. It made her uneasy, to see how worried they were, as if she were not really there, and they were assessing her chances of waking from a coma. She tried a few times to speak, but each time, Madame Pomphrey shushed her, and Hermoine and Gryffindor professor cooed and coaxed and consoled. No one was listening. Finally, she sat bolt upright. She cleared her throat and said loudly,

"Look here, I'm all right. I'm awake. I'd like to know what happened, please? Can someone please tell me what is going on?"

A loud, explosive sound erupted from Hagrid, and she realized he had burst into tears again and was now blowing his nose into a handerchief.

"I'm so sorry," he cried over and over.

"Easy, Hagrid. It was just an accident. You couldn't have known," said Professor Lupin.

"This is my fault. I shoulda' been nicer to her. I should have introduced myself right from the beginning. Then she would'na had to search me out. She would'ave known better. Everyone who knows me knows my house is full of c...c...c..creatures!" He sobbed.

"But I didn't see any creatures, other than a raven," Petunia protested.

Lupin came forward and frowned in a way that made her heart start to pound again. Something was very wrong.

"Is that all you remember? Do you remember anything else, Mrs. Dursley?"

She thought hard. There was this blank in her mind...this...wall...something she could almost remember, but thought maybe she didn't want to...

"It would have been something...frightening to you, specifically," blurted Hermoine, who ignored a disapproving look from Professor McGonagall. "The creature was a boggart. You wouldn't have seen its true form. It would have...projected something, something it knew you feared," she finished.

This all sounded like complete nonsense, and for some reason, started to make Petunia angry. It felt personal somehow, as if these people were all looking at her as the cause of whatever had happened...as if she had somehow failed at something, been too weak -

"Really?! Really," a familiar, cold, sarcastic baritone said from the doorway. "I go away for one moment, and my student ends up in the hospital wing?" Severus Snape stalked angrily into to the room, and, as usual, suddenly seemed like the biggest thing there. But Petunia quickly realized, when she saw his face, that he was perhaps not as angry as he was trying to sound. He looked confused, even worried, and utterly bewildered.

"Why is it that when I entrust something of utmost importance to people whose judgement I would expect to be at least sane, I find that you cannot even keep a woman in your sights long enough to prevent her from disaster?"

"Hagrid," Snape growled, and Hagrid gulped guiltily. "I don't even want to know...why, you had a boggart in your hovel. And maybe you want to consider leaving the door locked from now on."

Hagrid nodded gloomily.

Petunia wanted to tell Snape that she was fine, she was not fragile, or weak, or whatever it is that she saw in their faces as they stared at her...she was fine. She wanted to speak, but two things stopped her: One, she might say the wrong thing, which would be a bad idea, and two...it felt rather nice to have someone take responsibility for her, to be so...protective of her. And for that person, of all people, to be Severus Snape. She wasn't sure she wanted to interrupt just yet.

She watched him, his dark hair shaking the slightest bit as he argued emphatically with the others present. He was obviously very upset, not just in the usual way. It was as if he thought something had been done that could not be undone. She listened closely, and heard the word "boggart" mentioned again. And Hermoine's words came back to her... It would have...projected something, something it knew you feared...

A terrible realization dawned on her, and she quickly hunted around her for her wand...for Lily's wand. She found it sitting on a table almost out of reach, on which were some folded cloths and one that looked like it had been used, perhaps to wipe her face. She scrambled to grasp it, and kept it below the bed, hoping to keep it out of sight of her audience. Sure enough, her worst fears were confirmed.

She could not feel any magic anymore.

Her wand clattered to the floor and she lurched over the side of the bed, feeling hands grabbing her, the shouts of dismay drowned out by her violent retching.