The steam-engine was whistling as if it shared Petunia's good mood and for once the sight of the red-lacquered train didn't fill her with bitterness.
"I can levitate that, Tuney."
Petunia gripped her small trunk tighter. "I rather you didn't."
She didn't want all her belongings to float away and be forced to ask for help from someone with magic when she couldn't get them down by herself. She had packed lightly, clothes, her notebook, her edition of 'Fantastic Beasts', a few Quibblers, a pair of slippers and some Welsh Cakes if she got hungry during the ride, so it was no bother to carry it anyway.
"You sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure, Lily."
Her little sister shrugged. "Up to you. But why won't you sit with us, either?"
"My letter stated I should ride in the Prefect's compartment."
"That you could ride in the Prefect's compartment." Lily looked over her shoulder. "Sev, what about you?"
Severus, trailing behind them and already clothed in his Hogwarts robe, averted his eyes. "I'll stick to Avery."
Lily stopped so suddenly Petunia took two more steps before she even realised she had left her behind.
"Avery? You hate those guys!"
Petunia's surprise at Lily's tone arrested her feet.
Severus just shrugged.
"What possible reason could you have to hang out with those - those creeps!"
"Lily!" Petunia had never heard Lily insult anyone before.
Lily set her chin. "It's the truth."
"You won't understand," Severus muttered, scuffing his already worn shoes.
"You're right, I don't understand! How can you sit with them, Sev? They're … they're evil! You know what they get up to, what they want - who they idolise!"
Severus took a step back as if the words had physically pushed him. Before he could answer a loud horn sounded, shaking Petunia loose from her stupor.
"Lily, what brought this on? Severus is …"a wretch, a pest, an annoying brat who worships the ground you walk on …
For a second Lily looked like she wanted to continue pestering him before rethinking her words. "I'm just worried about you, Sev. We're friends, right?"
"Yeah." He still didn't look up. "We should board before the train leaves."
"He's right, let's go."
Lily sighed. "Alright, just … think about sitting with us, please, Sev?"
Petunia could see the strain of Lily's request in the set of Severus' thin shoulders, as if his body was buckling against invisible reins binding him. He didn't answer, just walked past them and shuffled into the train, his tattered soles clapping loudly on the steps.
"Don't look at me like that, Tuney. If you knew what was going on, how they act, you would be worried as well."
Petunia turned away to hide the way Lily's words stung her, a thorn hidden beneath silk-soft petals of concern.
"Let's go."
The train was narrow, plush green carpet running down the aisle as sliding doors lead to different compartments already filled with children, luggage and animals. Laughter, slamming doors, hooting owls and excited chatter filled the stuffy air and Petunia pulled a face at the noise.
"You're really going to the Prefect's department," Lily concluded.
"We'll see each other more than enough for the rest of the year."
And Petunia wasn't sure how she would fit in with Lily's friends. Being surrounded by people who admired her sister and were glued to Lily's words for the whole ride wasn't really the start she had envisioned for herself.
Somehow she feared it would sour this new beginning.
"But I'm a student and you'll be … a groundskeeper."
Petunia frowned. "Apprentice groundskeeper."
"I'm just not sure when we'll find the time - don't misunderstand, Tuney, I'm really excited that you're here and …"
"Lils!"
The sisters turned in the narrow corridor when Lily's friend, Mary Macdonald, almost barreled Lily over, enveloping her in an embrace of glossy brown waves and lavender-scented Hogwarts robes.
"Mary!"
"It's been too long, Lils! Oh, hi, Petunia. Err, how did your trial go?"
Petunia stuck her pointy chin in the air. "Very well, thank you. Your advice was appreciated."
Mary briefly glanced at Lily before shrugging. "I'm glad I could help. Honestly, that they actually put a muggle on trial without -"
"Yes, truly astonishing," Petunia interrupted. "I'm going to find my compartment. Lily, I'll see you."
Lily smiled thinly. "Bye, Tuney."
While she walked away, Petunia could clearly hear Mary ask: "What does she mean, her compartment? Come to think of it, why is your sister on our train?"
The Prefect compartment wasn't too hard to identify, as it was easily the biggest and most luxuriously furnished out of them all. Thick, red drapes were pulled away from actually clean windows, the upholstery was not stained or faded, but covered with vibrant paisley patterns in dark burgundy and gold and instead of normal seats they looked more like couches arranged around the room. The walls were panelled with polished wood and small wall sconces bathed everything in a cosy, orange glow.
It was also empty and Petunia guessed that the Prefect's were probably busy doing their duties, making sure that everyone had boarded the train, found a seat, put away their luggage and whatever magical things needed to be checked on top of that.
Surrounded by blessed silence, Petunia got 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them' before stowing her trunk away and choosing a window seat. The plush cushions supported her stiff back, her skin tingling with nerves. Stroking her fingers along the spine of the book, over the long familiar cracks, she tried to calm herself.
Instead of re-reading one of her favourite chapters, Petunia's eyes stayed glued to her window.
The station looked different from here. Normally she faced the backs of people, lost in a sea of shouted good-byes and waving hands, obstructed from view and forgotten.
Now those faces were turned towards her.
Petunia watched as a little crying girl hugged an older boy, she watched as a mother fussed with her daughter's scarf and then she watched as they all disappeared when the train started moving with a jerk and slowly gained speed, teary-eyed faces turning into small specks and then being replaced by houses flashing past in a blur of concrete and shingles.
The vibrations of the moving train travelled through her, turning into shivers of excitement. Petunia wasn't at the station, walking to Mum's car and getting ready for the hours-long drive back to Cokeworth. She wasn't passing through a fake-brick wall into the mundane world.
For once, she wasn't being left behind.
This time, Petunia was on-board the magical train, being carried off to a school that was even more magical, a place she had never dreamed she would ever be allowed to set foot.
Petunia didn't know what her future held, but as she watched London grow smaller in the distance, she didn't regret leaving it behind.
Her life would only get more exciting from here.
The landscape unfurling beyond her window changed slowly, from urban greyness and honking horns to sprawling fields of waving gold, sparse forests, low hills with sheep dotted onto them like drops of white paint onto a green canvas, through echoing tunnels and across high bridges.
As time passed and her view changed, a few students - Prefects - started trickling back into the compartment. Most were in pairs or groups, finding seats while caught up in their talks but Petunia wasn't fooled. Whenever she turned her head they looked away too quickly and conversations stuttered strangely.
They were talking about her. Probably wondering what she was doing here, though someone must have informed them of her presence as no one challenged her right to sit here in their fancy compartment.
Most of them got up from time to time, some disappearing for minutes, others for hours, but they always returned in the end, reporting to a boy with a high forehead and the most pompous badge pinned to his chest, notably different from those the other students were wearing.
There was one exception to the pattern; a tall boy with neatly combed, light brown hair and too-short sleeves only ghosted into the compartment for a few moments each time, quickly talked to the pompous boy and then disappeared again, not in the least tempted by the plush seats, space or quiet the compartment could offer him.
That was until hours into the ride. Petunia had started eating her Welsh cakes, glad that she brought them when she saw that all the snacks being sold were funny sweets - though her heart did constrict strangely when she spotted the familiar, colourful packaging of Bertie Bott's Beans on the trolley. The sky outside her window had changed, the clouds tinted dark blue and rosette, the horizon flooded with orange as dusk settled.
The boy entered the compartment and instead of looking for the Head Boy (Petunia had managed to read the fine script on the fancy badge) he sat down on the seats right across from her, his face clouded and his gaze glued to the darkened landscape rattling past without really watching it.
Now that he sat so close Petunia was startled to see the scars on his face. They weren't deep or fresh but noticeable enough that Petunia wondered how she had missed them before, silver lines running over the bridge of his nose, through his eyebrow and across his cheek.
They looked brutal.
Maybe the boy felt her stare because suddenly brown eyes turned away from the window, meeting hers.
Petunia was just a tad too slow in looking away and embarrassment washed through her before he smiled. It looked a bit tired, the edges worn away, but appeared honest enough.
Though Petunia was still surprised when he actually addressed her.
"Excuse my manners. You must be the new teaching assistant Dumbledore told us about - my name is Remus."
"Apprentice groundskeeper," Petunia corrected reflexively before clearing her throat. "I'm Petunia."
For reasons she didn't want to examine but was all too aware of she didn't mention her last name. She had no doubt that her relation to the most popular girl at school wouldn't stay a secret for long but she was in no hurry to let herself be compared right from the start.
"Groundskeeper? So you'll be working with Hagrid?"
Petunia nodded, a flash of nerves mixed with excitement stabbing through her.
Something must have shown on her face because the boy's smile settled into something more genuine and gentle.
"No need to worry, Hagrid might look intimidating but he's harmless."
"Intimidating?"
"You'll see. As long as you always treat his critters right, he'll be your best friend - and you obviously come well prepared."
He nodded at the gold-leaf decorated book in Petunia's lap, her own eyes following his and her finger reflexively stroking down the spine in a self-soothing gesture.
"You've read it?"
"My father always says that every household should have an edition, and if only to identify the things crawling through the attic."
Petunia smiled. "It does have quite a lot of chapters about the crawlers."
"Oh? Sounds like you don't approve."
"That's not it." Petunia forced herself to look away from his open face, focusing her attention on the blurred, darkened landscape rushing past. She didn't know why it felt so easy to talk to this scarred stranger but found herself continuing anyway. "I just wish there was more about those creatures that resemble us. Centaurs, vampires, satyrs, werewolves -"
"Werewolves?"
Something in his voice had changed. When Petunia looked back at him she was startled to see how closed off his expression had become, his brown eyes almost amber with glowing intensity, his lanky arms crossed in front of his chest but not in a protective way - more like he wanted to restrict himself.
"Why do you want to know about werewolves?"
"I think there is a lot to learn about them."
"You're wrong. They're foul, evil beasts who'd like nothing more than to hunt down every wizard that crossed their path and infect him with their bloodlust. There's nothing else to learn."
Petunia frowned but chose not to contradict him. There was a treacherous undercurrent lapping at her feet and she feared getting swept away with the first misstep.
He took a deep breath and lowered his arms, his face softening.
Petunia didn't trust it.
"Just some advice, it's probably better if you don't talk about those … things in the future. There's a reason there's no chapter about them in the book."
"What reason?"
He got up, tugging at his short sleeves while looking towards the door leading out of the compartment. Petunia thought that he resembled a caged animal searching for escape.
"No-one wants to hear about them."
Petunia blinked.
"I have to get going, we should arrive soon. Do you have a robe? If so, you should put it on before the train stops."
"I don't."
He nodded. "You can leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately. I hope you have a good start at Hogwarts, Petunia."
And then he walked away, the compartment door closing behind him with a rattle without another glance back. None of the other Prefects seemed to be in a hurry, most were only just packing away their snacks or nudging their friends awake.
Petunia closed her hands around her book, letting the conversation replay in her head while the noise around her slowly heightened, pattering feet, clattering luggage, excited voices.
They were about to arrive.
Petunia stood up when the train slowed enough that she didn't fear tripping, and tugged her trunk from the storage rack, opening it to carefully put her book away. The thought of leaving it behind made her stomach dance, but she didn't suspect she had been lied to - none of the other students in her compartment made any motions to take their bags with them.
The train came to a stop with a small jolt and students started streaming through the corridors, some so small they barely reached her hips, others her age but rarely taller than her, and all were dressed in black robes. Petunia looked down at her sensible jacket, a cobalt blazer she had picked because she hoped its richness would make her eyes look bluer and make herself appear more grown up.
Now she realised just how much it made her stand out.
Banishing the realisation into a cramped corner of her mind, Petunia forced her way into the masses, ignoring curious stares and whispers around her. She had pointy elbows and piercing glares aplenty, what did she have to be afraid of?
Nothing, she tried to convince herself, she belonged here just as much as all the others, robes or not, she had been invited, she had even gotten a fancy letter delivered by an owl and signed by the Headmaster personally.
The current of traipsing feet and bumping shoulders carried her towards the exit, a cool breeze brushing across her face and filling her lungs with the smell of dewy grass and the lingering scratchiness of smoke. The station they had arrived at was small and seemingly in the middle of nowhere, red lamp posts throwing circles of orange light onto faded cobblestones, a small plaque reading 'Hogsmeade Station' barely legible while softly rolling hills were traced by the vanishing sun in the background.
Petunia's eyes darted over the crowd, not sure if she was looking for her sister's flaming hair or the mysterious Remus who had stormed off. Before she had a chance to spot either of them, a booming voice made her flinch, arresting the students around her and drawing Petunia's eyes to a hulking figure at the other end of the station, cloaked in shadows except for a glowing lantern being woven by a baseball-mitten sized hand.
"Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here!"
A big, hairy face floated above the heads of the tiny students, bushy eyebrows hiding dark eyes and a snarled beard only parting enough to reveal flashes of gleaming teeth whenever the thundering voice sounded.
"C'mon, to me - any more firs'-years? Mind yer step, now! Firs'-years to me!"
And then the creature, for surely it could be no mere man, appeared to look straight at her.
"Ah, right - Ms Evans, over here!"
Petunia's first impression of Rubeus Hagrid was not at all favourable. He was gruff, had a horrible accent, his appearance was unkempt and worst of all - he reminded her of a giant.
It was more than just his inhumane height. There was something in the stretch of his shoulders, the dimensions of his neck and hands and feet, in his heavy brow bone and bulbous nose. Something about him that made images creep from the depths of her memories, slivers of screams and panic and a gigantic form in the distance that dragged furrows into the surface of her calm, exposing the raw nerves underneath.
And there was nowhere to hide. They were standing at the edge of the small platform, a circle of light thrown onto the ground by the lantern Hagrid held aloft, barely illuminating a small path down the side of a softly rolling hill, almost cloaked by scrubs and thistles.
Surrounded by diminutive eleven-year-olds with fresh robes and gleaming faces, there was no mistaking Petunia for anyone but who she was. The other, older students were streaming from the platform behind her, following a rough mud track into a wooded area, their forms disappearing behind the thick cover of trunks, branches and leaves. Petunia would swear she could feel their eyes on her back as they walked past, each stare a small itch, like an insect bite on her neck.
"An' here yeh are! Let me introduce meself - Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."
An enormous hand came towards her and Petunia only just managed to raise her arm in a useless defensive gesture when it was grabbed and shaken once, so firmly she almost thought he wanted to rip it from its socket. Her heart was beating against her throat, her pulse rabbiting in useless shock.
"Call me Hagrid," he said, not noticing her wide-eyed stare, "everyone does."
"Petunia."
Her voice was barely a whisper.
"Petunia, eh? Like them flowers, have some 'round me hut."
"How … nice."
The children standing around them were growing restless, the cocktail of a long train ride combusting with a fresh dose of adrenaline now that they were so close to their destination. Most had started muttering, stretching their necks trying to see around Hagrid down the path, a few even dared to take a few steps away from the huddled group and lean forward.
"Don' wander off now! Stay together, everyone, we'll get goin' in a jiffy." He turned back to Petunia. "Just wanted t' introduce meself before you get goin'. Now follow along with them folks, someone's waiting for you at the clearing."
The children reacted with just as much interest as Petunia and she heard someone giggle when the giant, bearded man gave a strange wink.
"He knows the way."
"Who –"
But he was already turning away, leading the huddle of small children down the narrow trail, the lantern bobbing high above his mane of straggly hair like a will-o'-the-wisp.
Petunia added 'rude' to the list of his faults, before turning around and starting down the well-trodden mud path, her steps firm and her spine straight. Most of the students had already gone ahead of her, a few stragglers the only ones still around. Petunia wanted to think she didn't stand out, though she knew better.
But when she stepped onto the clearing her breath faltered, all thoughts of uniforms and other students wiped away.
Carriages were scattered around, hackney coaches lacquered a gleaming black with silver decorations and huge, round wheels, looking like they could have come straight from the pages of a historical novel.
And drawing them were Thestrals.
A whole herd of them, two to each carriage, a mass of majestically curved necks, pupil-less eyes and smooth, shiny skin matching the colour of the carriages perfectly.
Most of the carriages were already rattling away, delicate wheels rolling across dirt and leaves, but some were still being boarded by students – and among them Petunia spotted a braid the colour of fire, clashing with the black robes cloaking Lily's slim back.
She was staring at a boy with the messiest hair Petunia had ever seen, wearing round glasses and a self-satisfied smirk. Both Lily and the boy were surrounded by their friends and among the boy's four companions Petunia recognized the Prefect from the train, Remus Lupin.
Maybe Petunia would have cared more about the situation if her heart hadn't been beating out of her chest at the sight of the smooth-skinned, winged horses, her throat tight with longing and her eyes unable to look at anything else for more than a few glances.
And then she heard it. Directly behind her, a soft neigh.
Even before she turned and saw him, a creature made from living shadows with white opals for eyes, she already knew it would be him.
"Aspen …"
His name was barely a whisper in the still evening air, a breath carrying all her awe, her surprise, her relief.
Her hand didn't feel like her own when it stretched towards him, her trembling fingers carefully making contact with the smooth, cool surface of his skin when Aspen stepped close enough for her to touch.
She had missed him so desperately, been so worried about him, that now that she saw him, healthy and whole, not tethered to one of the carriages but free, it was almost too much to process.
Aspen bridged the last space between them, pressing his head against Petunia's forehead, the exhale coming from his slitted nostrils rustling the collar of her shirt. He smelled like the forest, moss and foliage, with just a tinge of ozone – he smelled like love, comfort, home.
"Aspen."
This time his name was almost a sob, Petunia's hands finding his neck, his mane and clinging to the flimsy strands, anchoring him to her, a connection that she didn't want to sever ever again.
"You're here, you're alright – I was so worried for you, I thought … I never wanted anything to happen to you, I didn't think I could stand it."
Petunia didn't care if anyone could overhear her, if to some of the students behind her (to Lily and her friends) she looked like a lunatic, hugging empty air, her eyes shining with unspilled tears. All her worries about her status, how she would be received and perceived here, suddenly felt so small and petty, unimportant when compared to the euphoric joy that flooded her in this second.
Aspen nudged her closer, the ridged bones on his chest pressing against her shoulders and neck and Petunia closed her eyes. She wasn't alone. Even if Eugene was an ocean away, Lily was occupied with her own friends and the wretched boy – well, he didn't really deserve consideration anyway, even if none of them were with her, she still had Aspen.
From now on, she would always have him, no matter what would come their way. Petunia suddenly realised that she was ready to do anything to keep them together.
She loosened her grip once she felt as if her knees wouldn't give out beneath her, letting one of her hands run down his spine to settle on his back.
"I heard you know the way."
Aspen huffed against her before slightly turning and lifting one of his wings, making it easier for her to duck beneath and climb onto his back. There was no padding but Petunia barely registered the discomfort, too elated to settle into this familiar position, her legs pressed against his ribs, her hands finding the ridge of his shoulders. Some part of her registered a shout of "Tuney!" but she didn't turn her head, didn't look back, all her attention centred on the Thestral beneath her.
There was no safety rope but Petunia didn't hesitate before lowering herself down and pressing her heels against his flanks, the mute command to go. Aspen shook his mane and started sprinting, his feet cleaving through the soft dirt mercilessly and then – they were in the air.
Petunia laughed, something inside her chest that had been balled into a tight, little clump ever since that night she had so desperately searched for her best friend, finally unclenching. It felt like she could really breathe again, the whistling air nipping her skin, her hair turned wild by the wind and the steady beat of Aspen's wings beside her like the thrum of an invisible heart.
The ground dwindled beneath them rapidly, the station looking like a children's toy with the red train and tiny people, the woods Aspen had emerged from sprawling and deep, the clearing with the carriages just another pockmark on the landscape. She saw a little town with high chimneys that reached like grasping, spindly fingers into the air, smoke and light spilling from it, she saw a gigantic black lake that dominated the landscape like a puddle of spilt ink, and then she saw Hogwarts; a castle atop one of the softly rolling hills around her, the solid stone of its walls bathed in romantic twilight. A multitude of small towers clung to the main structure, growing atop each other and all over like overlapping mushrooms on a tree trunk, bridges spanning between them, as hundreds of windows looked out over the lake and forest, each one winking with warm, orange light. An ancient creature born from magic and stone, overlooking its grounds with countless glowing eyes.
Aspen suddenly swooped low and Petunia didn't bother stopping her elated laugh as they sailed over the surface of the lake, so close to the deep water she could feel the spray on her chilled skin. A procession of small boats were just barely visible to her right, like little nutshells bobbing across the waves, a lot of surprised faces turned her way and then Petunia was gone again, Aspen carrying her back towards the clouds, towards the castle dominating the hill in front of them.
When Petunia felt Aspen lowering, his wings stretched wide as they slowly circled down, she clenched her hands in his mane. He was heading straight for the castle she had been surveying and Petunia wished they could just keep on flying, the whole night, maybe forever.
It was always over too soon.
They orbited a small tower, ducked under a bridge and then Aspen headed for a wide, cobbled courtyard with a well in its middle.
Petunia didn't want to stop but she was here to do a job. And disappearing on her first evening was surely not what her new employers expected of her.
"It's going to be alright," she told Aspen, the words stolen from her tongue by the whipping winds. She wasn't sure if he had heard her but he slowed his descent nonetheless, gifting her a few more precious moments before his hooves touched down, galloping away the rest of their momentum. He had come to a stop in front of a huge pair of winged doors, cast iron cloaking boards of wood that looked as if they had weathered centuries.
Petunia dismounted reluctantly, her feet tingling when they settled upon the stones, her hands unwilling to leave Aspen. She stroked the hooked protrusion upon his nose, beak-like in its appearance, while her eyes wandered over the sprawling facade in front of her, gigantic now that she was standing on the unforgiving ground instead of looking down upon it from the safety of Aspen's back.
From here on out she would have to find her own way.
Leaving Aspen behind was harder than Petunia had anticipated, her whole body protesting as she walked down the corridor lit by flickering torchlight, her steps echoing from the curved ceiling. She wanted to turn around, run back to him and take another flight but forced her feet to continue walking towards the noise she could hear, the hum of a hundred voices and steps luring her deeper into the bowels of Hogwarts.
Her path led her to a wider entrance hall dominated by staircases, each of them moving independently, the groan of grinding stones filling her head while her eyes couldn't stop staring at the fantastical display.
"Ms Evans?"
Petunia startled and turned, finding herself facing a tall woman with a stern expression, her dark hair tucked into a tidy bun. Her robes weren't the same black as the ones Petunia had seen on everyone else but a bright, emerald green decorated with celtic patterns.
Suddenly Petunia didn't regret her blazer as much – it was still too mundane, too 'muggle' to fit in with the castle around her, but she wasn't the only one who had opted for a spot of colour.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," the woman spoke again. "I'm Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher and Head of Gryffindor House. I was told to receive you here, if you are indeed the new apprentice groundskeeper?"
"Yes, Petunia Evans."
Professor McGonagall tilted her head a bit. "I do see the family resemblance – your sister is a very remarkable witch, Ms Evans, and one of the brightest students I ever had the pleasure of teaching."
Petunia tasted something sour as she forced her next words past her teeth. "Thank you. Our parents are very proud of Lily."
There was a second of silence, the grey eyes behind square glasses considering Petunia with piercing scrutiny. She forced herself to hold the older woman's stare until she finally continued.
"The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly. Proceed into the Great Hall and find yourself a space at the long table at the far end, teachers and staff are seated there. Do you have any questions?"
Petunia shook her head.
"Very well. I will remain here to welcome the unsorted students Hagrid is bringing across the lake. Good evening, Ms Evans."
Petunia swallowed. "Good evening, Professor McGonagall."
Thus dismissed, Petunia made her way through the doorway Professor McGonagall had indicted, her steps echoing across the flagged stone floor, passing through the door where the sound was immediately swallowed by the chatter of a hundred voices.
Petunia felt her mouth turn dry as her eyes wandered over the Great Hall.
She truly was in a magical castle, there was no denying it, not with the moving stairs back in the hall, not with the millions of candles floating above her head right this moment, each a bobbing golden light not fastened to anything she could see, not with the ceiling apparently nonexistent, the darkening sky clearly visible behind the candles, not with the translucent forms she could see whisking through walls and tables further back in the room.
It took her a few frozen seconds to regain her balance, to straighten her blazer and continue walking, but those moments were enough to attract attention. Students her age wouldn't stand gaping and they certainly wouldn't be dressed like her, and as Petunia passed through the aisle between two of the four long tables dominating the echoing chamber she could hear whispers spreading like rippling waves in her wake.
She kept her gaze resolutely on the massive table right at the front of the room, elevated on a small platform and overlooking the rest of the hall, repeating inside her head: I don't care what you think, you mean nothing to me, faceless witches and wizards who probably don't even know how to fold laundry, arrogant, conceited, you're no better than me, I wasn't born to this but I am here regardless.
Dumbledore was the only person she recognized at the table, seated right in the middle, wearing an eye-catching costume of midnight velvet and a very pointy purple hat, flopping slightly sideways over the long trail of his silver hair. When he caught her eye, he gave a wink Petunia didn't know how to respond to so she quickly averted her gaze, examining the other adults at his side.
No-one was even close to Petunia's age, most sporting a halo of white hair or wrinkled smiles, the youngest, a witch with a spill of brilliant black hair decorated with small glittering pins that looked like stars on a night sky, was probably already in her mid-thirties.
She didn't fit in with the teachers and she didn't fit in with the students, despite their shared age. If the adrenaline and joy of taking Aspen for a flight hadn't still pumped through her veins, Petunia seriously wondered if she could have kept the thoughts from her face.
She found a seat at the right side of the table, pulling the chair out and waiting a second if anyone would protest, if there were assigned seats or someone was usually sitting here. The middle-aged man on the chair next to hers gave her an encouraging smile, one eye hidden behind an eyepatch and one of his hands replaced by a silver hook.
Petunia contemplated if he had fashioned himself after a story-book pirate on purpose while sitting down.
"Silvanus Kettleburn," he introduced himself. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss …?"
"Evans. Petunia Evans."
"Oh, Evans, you don't happen to know one of the students by chance, Lily Evans? Clever and curious girl, always ready to help others –"
Petunia would be eternally grateful that the double doors at the other end of the hall choose that moment to burst open dramatically as an unsmiling Professor McGonagall led a gaggle of little children into the Great Hall.
"Ev'nin' again," came a deep voice from behind Petunia, causing her to startled and turn.
Hagrid had appeared behind them, one of his gigantic hands tugging out a chair that was visibly bigger than the others. Petunia wondered how she had missed it before.
The wood creaked ominously nonetheless as he sat down beside her, little twinkling eyes almost hidden behind his bushy eyebrows and rampant beard.
"How'd ye like the welcome?"
"It was …" Petunia took a deep breath. "Wonderful."
Hagrid hummed happily, which sounded more like a boulder rumbling down a mountain than anything else.
Professor McGonagall had stepped up onto their little raised dias, silently putting down a rickety, three-legged stool and a hat so tattered and dirty Petunia's first instinct was to snatch it and throw it out.
"'Tis me favourite part," Hagrid tried to whisper, though Petunia was sure half the teacher's table could hear him without issue.
And then another voice echoed through the hall, immediately silencing all talks. It took Petunia a second to figure out – that it emerged from the crumbled, old hat.
"A thousand years or more ago,
When I was newly sewn,
There lived four wizards of renown,
Whose names are still well known:
Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,
Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,
Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.
They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,
They hatched a daring plan
To educate young sorcerers
Thus Hogwarts School began.
Now each of these four founders
Formed their own house, for each
Did value different virtues
In the ones they had to teach.
By Gryffindor, the bravest were
Prized far beyond the rest;
For Ravenclaw, the cleverest
Would always be the best;
For Hufflepuff, hard workers were
Most worthy of admission;
And power-hungry Slytherin
Loved those of great ambition.
While still alive they did divide
Their favourites from the throng,
Yet how to pick the worthy ones
When they were dead and gone?
'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,
He whipped me off his head
The founders put some brains in me
So I could choose instead!
Now slip me snug about your ears,
I've never yet been wrong,
I'll have a look inside your mind
And tell where you belong!"
Applause echoed through the hall, Hagrid's right beside her positively deafening, loud as thunder claps.
"Clever, no?"
Petunia's mouth was dry, her hands numb as she put them together half-heartedly.
"Why does it talk?"
"Well, how else would it sort?"
Petunia pressed her lips together.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," Professor McGonagall's voice cut through the last smatterings of applause. "Avery, Vivetta."
Petunia watched as a slim girl with pale lips stepped forward, her small face set resolutely. The hat was placed onto her dark brown hair and just a few seconds later a shout of "Slytherin!" boomed from the strange thing.
"How does the hat make his judgement?"
The question slipped out before Petunia could stop it.
"He reads yer heart and head, 'course."
Petunia shivered.
She would never get used to the way these people were so casual about their own minds, their private thoughts, their memories – why were there spells to wipe it all away? Why did they force children to bare their souls to a singing piece of headwear?
She was suddenly quite glad that she hadn't been forced to wear it, that no-one thought it would be necessary to have Petunia 'sorted'.
She feared what the hat would reveal otherwise, because she was sure that none of her thoughts could exactly be labelled as honourable or hard-working or clever.
No, most of her thoughts were very self-serving, very cutting and very derisive.
Unconsciously her eyes wandered towards the table seating children with hard eyes, sharp chins and green ties. It only took a second to find the wretched boy, hunched and skeletal, his eyes two black holes on his chalky visage.
Their gazes met and for one long second Petunia couldn't look away.
And power-hungry Slytherin
Loved those of great ambition.
The Sorting Song is from the original HP books, I simply don't have the lyrical talent to come up with my own. ^^ If this was a 'normal' novel this would be the start of the second book. From here on out Petunia's life will change forever – even more than it already has. Thank you for all your feedback, love and encouragement, this story would have long withered without you guys !