Story Title: Petunia, the Petulant
Chapter Title: Doves and Roses
Author's Note: Some of you may notice I've deleted a recent chapter, Fey Lords and Old Gods. I didn't like it, and realized it was not needed in the story and took things in another direction. If you feel differently, however, I'd be very interested to know!
Thanks as always for the reviews!
Doves and Roses
Severus had been discouraged from visiting Petunia by Madame Pomfrey, which felt unnecessary to him, but it was troubling as well. He did not know that Petunia had directed the staff in the wing to discourage visitors, and especially Professor Snape, in particular.
When she was released from the Hospital Wing and had returned to her private room, Petunia gave a number of excuses – via notes – for not being able to meet for studies, most often citing that she still wasn't "one hundred percent."
Snape tolerated this for three days, and then decided it was time she gave an explanation, even if he had to breach her door to get it. But after several stern commands and a loud knock were followed by absolute silence, he took out his wand and unlocked the door to her room to find it completely empty.
On the desk there was a crisp, cinnamony envelope that said "Professor Snape" in perfectly elegant handwriting. Severus was pretty sure he could guess what was in it. With an exaperated sigh, he snatched up the letter and opened it. After staring at it for a moment, he crumpled it into a ball and tossed it back on the desk. He swept out of the room, not bothering to close the door again behind him.
The first teacher he found in the hallway was McGonagall, and he informed her that he was going to be away for the day as he had to fetch his student, who had left the grounds without his express permission. As he stalked back to his office, he wondered if the pitying look on Minerva's face was meant for him, rather than Mrs. Dursley. Did she think he was on a fool's errand? Or perhaps that he was, devil take it, "upset" that his student was turning out to be a failure?
This thought angered him. If she and anyone else knew how hard he worked, how late into the night he pored over tomes and experimented with potions, they might have some idea of how frustrating it would be to have a student quit, especially after all the work he'd put into her. She was lucky to have been given the rare opportunity he had given her...and now for some ridiculous reason, she seemed to think it perfectly appropriate to break their contract. Why shouldn't he be "upset?" It wasn't as if he missed her, or anything.
Severus was still fuming when he apparated into the Dursley's back lawn on Privet Drive. He made straight for the back door and stopped. She was there, in the garden, trimming a rose bush that looked like it was already as manicured as it could be. She was wearing a smart pair of slacks that fitted her petite frame quite well, and little jacket that might have been moleskin or the like. Her blonde hair had been pulled back into a pony tail, but little flyaways framed her thin face.
She saw him and without any sign of surprise, glared, as if he were somehow terribly inconvenient. Petunia Dursley brushed off her gardening gloves, placed them on the ground, and went inside the house. Severus followed. His anger was momentarily distracted by the fact that she had displayed no fear whatsoever. Something more was afoot, it seemed, than he had realized. And, much as he didn't want to admit it, the sight of her looking so small and unhappy was having an effect on his mood.
She had left the inner door behind the screen open, and was standing at a counter, fussing with a water boiler.
"Would you like some tea?" she asked curtly, as he entered her tiny kitchen and loomed in the doorway. Not wanting to speak first, he simply nodded. There was definitely something in her tight mannerism that was masking something else...something very serious. He did not know what it was, but his curiosity was starting to outweigh his wrath. When she indicated a chair at the kitchen table, he sat down at it, the hem of his black cloak falling onto the immaculate floor. He was keenly aware that he must look very out of place in such an ordinary Muggle dwelling.
Still silent, Petunia brought the tea over to the table, along with two cups and saucers, sugar, cream, and some very stale biscuits. He let her place his cup in front of him, her small hands pale from the outdoor chill, but made no move to pick it up, watching her. Finally, she sat down and looked up at him, meeting his eyes with her oddly pale ones. He found himself fascinated by them, not for the first time.
While Severus Snape was not the most empathic of individuals, he was decent at reading people when he wanted to be, as it was a useful skill. The look on Petunia's face, which he had expected to be defiant, was something closer to numbness, or grief.
"Well?" She asked shortly, her voice flat and quiet.
Severus stared at her silently for a moment with the customary, cold stare he always gave to his students, but in truth he was speechless.
"You know," he finally admitted, matching her quiet tone, "I hardly know where to start. It seems to me you owe me an explanation."
"I told you. I realized I did not belong at Hogwarts. Dumbledore was right the first time. This last incident just confirmed it."
"I am finding it difficult to believe," he said, after a pause, "that an encounter with a boggart would be enough to discourage you from what seemed highly important to you, only a few months ago."
"Well, let's just say, it gave me some time to reflect." Her tone had a finality to it now, which meant that if he really did want the truth, he would have to dig it out of her. He briefly considered casting an Imperius curse or returning later with some veritaserum. "Are you going to drink your tea?" she asked accusingly, nodding toward his cup. Severus picked it up. No need to waste good tea.
Against his will, anger was starting to seep out of him. He wasn't exactly sure why, but he suddenly felt tired. He was too tired to maintain the air of severity that had become his professional mask, too tired to play games and dance around the truth. Petunia Dursley was clearly distressed, and it probably had something to do with the boggart and whatever her greatest fear turned out to be. It was time for a different approach.
He put his cup down and drew in a bit of a breath, preparing to be patient.
"Petunia," he said softly, as he reached for another cube of sugar. "We have a contract. I really thought you were committed to seeing this through. Did something happen to make you reconsider? Trouble befall a family member, perhaps? Your son?"
At the mention of her son, Petunia flinched, and there was a break of emotion in her steely expression.
"I can no longer do magic," she said finally.
"What do you mean?" he asked, a bit shocked, and unsure if she were speaking literally.
"After...the boggart, in the Hospital Wing, I found I could not feel it anymore. I couldn't direct it through my wand. The connection, whatever it was, is broken." She inhaled, her eyes becoming misty. "It's over."
Severus drank half of his tea before putting it down and leaning forward, folding his hands in front of him. He could see his mildness was surprising and confusing to her.
"Why don't you tell me what happened? All of it?"
"What does it matter?" she asked miserably, and her bottom lip trembled. He watched her make a great effort to control herself. She knew that Professor Snape had no time or patience for tears, and she had stopped crying in front of him a long time ago. "I...I don't know why it happened, why I was allowed to - " she gulped "experience being able to do magic for such a short time. Why it happened at all. But it's clear now that it was a temporary...thing," she finished.
"It's not at all clear. You still aren't telling me what I need to know. Why? Why are you being so secretive? Are you afraid to tell me your greatest fear? I can guess, if you'd prefer," he said, only partly bluffing. He probably could guess.
"No, no," she said, sighing reluctantly. Now she looked ashamed. "I'm sure it will come as no surprise to you. I saw..." she cut off abruptly and seemed not to be able to speak.
"You saw...?" he coaxed, trying not to betray his eagerness.
"I saw my sister," she whispered, and tears began to spill down her face. She grabbed a napkin and furiously wiped them away.
Severus let a moment of respectful silence pass. He knew this was a very personal revelation, something dangerously vulnerable. If he wanted to get his student back, he was going to have to tread carefully.
"I see. I can see why that would be...upsetting."
She refused to look at him, and her hand trembled violently as she raised her cup. He almost had to stifle an impulse to steady it for her, but she was able to manage it eventually.
"What about this," he said suddenly, having a moment of inspiration. What would Lupin do? Sometimes he had to ask himself that when he had to deal with people and their "feelings." "If I tell you what my boggarts turn into, will you...hear me out and consider returning?"
Curiosity about this was clearly irresistible to her. She nodded.
"All right," she said softly. "Although I don't see what the point would be. It'd be a waste of your time,"
"That's for me to determine," he answered. "If I were to encounter a boggart, I'm fairly certain it would turn into a giant snake."
Petunia gave a little gasp, her eyes lighting up with interest. "Do you mean, like my patronus?"
"Oh no," he said conversationally, shaking his head. "Yours is very clearly a normal cobra, even if it's rather large. My serpent is a giant constrictor with horrible, poisonous fangs. You see, I almost died last year. I should, in fact, be dead." Now Severus was not pretending anymore. This was personal, what he was sharing, and not something he would have said to just anyone. But he talked about it so rarely; it made him thoughtful, remembering the events of last year. There was a sadness when he spoke again.
"When we fought Lord Voldemort, the wizard that wanted to kill your nephew, he had with him what you might call a familiar, an enormous snake that he took everywhere with him. He had a connection with it, you see. It was like an extension of his own will. "When he realized...that is," he stammered, "when I was caught, it was the snake that found me. It attacked me. Viciously. And...I died," he finished softly. He had never said those words out loud. He had hardly dared to think them. Now he was only half aware of Petunia, who was staring at him with wide eyes. She seemed to have forgotten the teacup sitting in her hands.
"You died?" She asked stupidly. Well, what do you say to that? He thought.
"I believe so, yes. Everyone thought I was dead, certainly."
"But you weren't," she continued for him. Now it was Severus keeping his answers guarded, and Petunia who was trying to get him to reveal more.
"I came back. I think...I think. I'm not sure. To tell you the truth, I haven't thought about it much."
"I can hardly imagine! But you survived! Surely that must be wonderful for you? No wonder they have so much respect for you at Hogwarts," she mused, not realizing that this last might sound a little rude. "You're a hero," she said, this suddenly becoming clear.
"Please don't call me that, Mrs. Dursley." He could see that she understood he was dead serious, and she did not question it. "Anyway. Thanks to that unfortunate event – or fortunate, I suppose, depending on how you look at it – I now have an aversion to large snakes. Your patronus was startling, certainly, but it is this specific snake that attacked me that I believe a boggart would turn into."
"Incredible," she whispered, shaking her head. The idea of coming back from the dead was miraculous enough for Muggles. He wondered if she realized it was just as mysterious in the wizarding world.
"So...Hang on..."
Snape raised his hand to stop her.
"If you don't mind, I'd rather not speak much more on that."
"Oh," she said, looking a little deflated. "All right. Of course. I was just wondering...if you knew how..."
"Oh, well, that's fairly relevant to you, actually. Some-thing, some greater will or power than I can recognize, pulled me back. That is what I believe, for a number of reasons I won't go into, but when I returned, that is what I felt. I felt pulled back, as if something was refusing to let me go on to wherever I would have gone." He waved this away, hoping she would not begin asking about the metaphysical beliefs of wizards. He had said more than enough already, and was increasingly uncomfortable. It was time to conclude this business.
"Why do you think that's relevant to me?" Petunia asked, as he'd known she would have to.
"Because I'm fairly certain that something similar is the reason you came to Hogwarts," he answered. This had the desired effect; she looked positively stunned. "Let me explain. In my research thus far, I have found myself delving into some unexpected places. Originally, I thought the magic must be related to your bloodline. I now realize that was foolish of me," he admitted. The discovery had been humbling; even though he was not a true Death Eater anymore, he still had a lingering predilection to value blood over talent. It was not an easy belief to dislodge...until now.
"I have not completely uncovered the answer," he continued. "In fact, I've been beginning to rethink what we will present to the wizarding world. In brief, this subject is turning into something much larger than I expected. It's rather beyond the scope of what I can learn and verify in less than a year."
"But the point is, Mrs. Dursley, it is highly unlikely that you are permanently cut off from your magic. If I am right, Hogwarts is not quite finished with you yet. It would make little sense for the ability to just suddenly disappear, when all the evidence points to a deliberate awakening of it. If it had been random, that might be a different story. But in your case, at least, there are greater powers at play here, purposes at which we can only wonder."
Petunia was looking very thoughtful. The despair and numbness had mostly gone from her face, and her eyes now seemed to blaze with interest. He could almost hear her mind churning at double speed with this information.
"So," Severus said finally, trying to bring her back, "Your loss of magic is merely an illusion. Strong emotions, traumatic events...these can affect the ability to control magic. You had a reasonably traumatic event, seeing your dead sister," he explained. Those words, he realized..."dead sister..." felt stony in his mouth. Lily's corpse was not something he particularly liked to remember, either.
"I think I understand," Petunia said slowly. "I...I am sorry, Professor Snape. It was silly of me to react that way. And most disrespectful to you."
"There is no great harm done," he said as graciously as he could muster, but he felt pleased at this acknowledgement. "Under the circumstances, it is understandable you might experience at least one moment of panic. However," he warned, "this will be the last time I allow you to indulge in self doubt to the point that you abandon your practice. If you come back, you are there to stay, until we have presented or published our results. Do you understand, Mrs. Dursley?"
"I do," she nodded solemnly. "I certainly do. And I apologize again. Oh...but...what do we do about my magic? Do you know how I can get it back?"
"That is more a matter of psychology than magic I suppose, and that, I'm afraid, is not my area of expertise. I'm sure this comes as little surprise to you." And with this he bestowed on her his very rare genuine smile, a smile that turned up one corner of his mouth just the slightest bit.
"But I will help you nevertheless, or find someone who can. Now..." He stood up and straightened. "We have wasted several days already. It is time for you to - what is that god awful noise?!" He looked toward the living room, from which seemed to be coming a continuous chirruping, motor-like sound.
"Oh, that? You mean the doves?" Petunia asked, pointing her thumb back to the room they were in. She did not seem unoffended by his obvious dislike.
"Doves?!"
"Yes," she chuckled. "Harry sent them to me as a gift. Very sweet. My neighbor has been taking care of them. Would you like to see?"
Severus struggled with how to answer this. He hadn't quite shed his "understanding" persona, but was also not yet back to being stern and distant. Petunia laughed again, probably seeing this struggle on his face.
"Come and see."
Severus followed reluctantly her into the living room – he was starting to feel impatient again. What the devil was she thinking? Wasting time looking at some ridiculous birds at such a time...
But Petunia was obviously delighted with them; her face lit up the moment their gilded cage came into view. They brown turtledoves, cooing and singing happily, he supposed. He watched her grin at them, speak to them – bloody hell- and poke her finger in here and there, as if expecting them to shake hands with her. He sighed and endured this for a moment.
"Do you enjoy animals, Mrs. Durlsey?" He asked, having an idea.
"I wish you would call me Petunia from now on. I'm not sure who else I am just yet," she said, still preoccupied with the birds.
"Very well, Petunia."
"But...not really. Certain ones, I suppose. Birds, deer, animals in their natural habitat...but these are different. They are quite beautiful, aren't they? And...I don't know, maybe it's the fact that they are a heartfelt gift. Maybe it's that my...home is so quiet now. But I do like them. I'd missed them," she said wistfully.
Oh bother. Severus rolled his eyes while she was still looking away.
"Well," he said in a matter-of-fact voice that did not match the distaste he felt, "Perhaps you should bring them back with you. Anything that brings you...er...comfort, or makes you feel more...yourself again...good to have around," he finished, a bit helplessly.
Petunia seemed very happy with this. Finally, he was able to turn her attention away and agree to return to Hogwarts that evening. She would get one more night of rest and personal review, but she should prepare herself to work vigorously to make up the time they'd lost. She heartily agreed, and Severus gave a short nod before leaving the way he'd come.
Severus went home before his office, however. He felt like he needed to be around his things and shake off whatever all that – fluff and Muggleness had been. He felt like he needed some kind of magical shower, after all that coddling of Petunia Dursley, someone who really should not have been rewarded for being so horribly irresponsible and inconsiderate. But Severus knew it was necessary to keep her committed and determined, if he wanted to see his project finished and achieve the renown he knew it would bring him. He hated to think it might be left unfinished.
When he returned to the school, he found that a handful of first years sanding outside his office, waiting meekly for some kind of chastisement. Clearly, they were in some kind of trouble. He almost smiled again. Finally, things were back on track.
