As promised, a quick update! Hope you enjoy ^^

August 1975

It was a name unusual enough to be remembered and while Petunia turned in her uncomfortable seat to take a look at the man she did her best to determine where the ping of recognition came from.

Albus Something Something Brian Dumbledore was quite tall and slender, his stature further elongated by the waterfall of silver hair and beard almost trailing across the ground. His robes were a vibrant purple, as if to draw attention to the more muted shade the other wizards were wearing, decorated not with a silver W but a whole constellation of stars and galaxies stitched onto the fabric with glittering thread. His face was dominated by a crooked nose and gleaming half-moon spectacles, complimenting deep eyes and a kind smile.

The murmur that went through the gathered witches and wizards was just as attention catching as the man himself, some of them even gawping. Mr Doge was the first to say anything, though his face had turned blotchy and his voice was flustered. "Ah, yes - Albus, you - what are you doing here?"

"Elphias, how good to see you. I hope my visit this time is just as welcome as the ones you know to expect."

"I - yes, of course, Albus, you know that you are always - why, but what did you need? Just, I'm currently in the middle of, you know ..."

Dumbledore strode further into the room and Petunia saw the young man to Mr Doge's right give a nod towards him when Dumbledore spoke again: "Ah, Mr Marchbanks, how glad I am to see that you have settled in so well. You truly earned Professor McGonagall's recommendation."

The fluttery feeling of recognition latched onto the sentence and Petunia finally recalled where she knew that name from - Please Mister Dumbledore let me attend your magic school and learn how to become a real witch.

From one heartbeat to the next shame washed through her, accompanied by a nameless resentment that she had carried along for years, sewage soaking her already strained nerves. She could almost feel them unravelling, as if they were a physical presence inside her head that pulled and ripped.

What was Lily's headmaster doing here? No, rather, what was the most honourable Headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry doing here, at her, Petunia Evans, trial? They had no connection, nothing that should bring him here except that letter of refusal, sent years ago.

Was he here to regall them with a tale of Petunia begging to be one of them? Was he here to humiliate her? And if so, why? She couldn't recall doing anything that would deserve that level of cruelty from a man with so many better things to do.

Before her thoughts could spiral further, Mr Doge once again made a stammering attempt to reclaim Dumbledore's attention. "Albus, I - and Jeremy as well - am truly glad to see you, but maybe we can catch up later, after I finish this up, it shouldn't take long ... that is of course, if you don't mind waiting?"

"What a disservice I would be doing myself and Ms Evans if I simply waited. No, Elphias, I am in earnest when I say I am here to serve as a witness for this young lady. After all, there is quite a misunderstanding to clear up."

"A mis-" Mr Doge blinked and quickly riffled through a few papers. "No, but, you see, it is very straightforward, breach of the Decree for Reasonable Regulation for Dangerous Creatures with a charge of Illegal Possession of Dangerous Creatures plus a breach of Clause 73 of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, quite simple really, seeing as the beast was apprehended and we have a witness statement -"

"A witness with a personal history of animosity towards Ms Evans, you mean," Dumbledore countered calmly. "And concerning the Thestral you have found, I would be very grateful if he was returned where he belongs: the Hogwarts herd."

There was a hush of silence in the room before another flurry of murmurs came alive, fluttering around Petunia's already confused head like a swarm of moths.

Was Dumbledore here to steal Aspen from her? Was Aspen the reason he had appeared at her trial? Her fingers clenched and something hot and vengeful turned inside her chest, her heart slowly roasting above a flame of anger.

Mr Doge's face flushed deeper. "It's part of your herd, I wasn't informed, Albus, of course we wouldn't - that is to say, I'll make sure the beast is returned as soon as possible."

"Thank you, Elphias. Might I recommend that you consider dropping the charges against Ms Evans? I regret to inform you that you're prosecuting her for doing her duties."

If before the murmurs had been moths they now evolved into shrieking birds, no effort put into keeping the shrill questions of 'duties of a muggle?' and 'what does he mean?' quiet.

Mr Doge cleared his throat twice, until the mutterings had calmed enough for his voice to be heard clearly. "I'm sorry Albus, but the Wizengamot isn't aware of any duties …"

Dumbledore sighed deeply, as if he was truly sorry to contradict him. "Elphias, you should know that Ms Evans is in my employ."

Any calm Mr Doge had been able to reclaim was instantly shattered, his voice barely rising above the tide around him. "What?"

Petunia was no less confused as the rest of them and if her thoughts had been in any way corralled, she would be glad that all attention was focused on Dumbledore. If anyone had bothered to look at her face, his lie would have been unveiled immediately.

But even though they were talking about her, she still didn't merit any attention, not in the presence of a powerful wizard.

"No, there isn't any mention off -" Mr Doge waved an impatient hand towards Jeremy at his side. "No documentation, I wasn't given - she is a muggle, that's ..."

"My groundskeeper was in need of an apprentice and I've already heard of Ms Evans' skills thanks to our mutual friend, Newt Scamander. Who better to take on?"

At Newt's name another murmur rose and Mr Doge fell silent, his eyes wide and protruding.

"Who better - she has no magic! How will she deal with the beasts?", a man with small eyes and long teeth managed to drown out the others, his voice scratchy as if he had glued his mouth to a tailpipe and taken a few deep breaths before appearing here. "She's just a muggle!"

"As you might recall, my current groundskeeper had his wand broken after he was expelled from Hogwarts. He has no need for magic in his daily dealings. Beast-handling is not necessarily a magical skill."

The mean-eyed man wasn't appeased that easily. "And still it is taught at a school for wizards and witches. Shouldn't one of your own students be a much more suitable candidate for such a position?"

"Ms Evans has learned to handle beasts from a young age. She brings enough experience and has shown herself to be vastly talented. I hope I don't have to remind anyone about Mr Scamander's high standards."

With a grudging kind of admiration Petunia realised that Dumbledore hadn't lied after his initial claim of employing her. He simply stated things in a way that allowed others to draw conclusions that were false - like that fact that Newt had in any way tutored her, or that Petunia taking care of beasts since her childhood involved more than feeding Aspen meat scraps or stumbling across Ivy's egg in a dusty pawn store.

The man sneered. "We all know of your proficiency to collect misfits, squibs and half-giants and the lot, but a muggle criminal is really a step too far, even for you!"

"Macnair," Mr Doge thundered, his demeanour firm and forceful for once. "You'll afford Albus the respect he well deserves unless you wish to be removed from my courtroom!"

The man, Macnair, huffed with dissatisfaction but didn't speak up again. Mr Doge gave a short nod of approval before turning to Dumbledore, where his foreboding look turned simpering in a heartbeat. "You'll have to excuse him, Albus, a hotheaded fellow. He didn't mean anything by it."

"Not to worry, not to worry," answered Dumbledore pleasantly, and he seemed to mean it. There was no hidden anger in his expression. "After all, he spoke the truth, except the part of Ms Evans already being convicted - at least I hope this matter will be cleared up without any criminal charges?"

"Of course, I mean, I'll have to look at the case, but if it is as you say and Ms Evans was acting in her role as caretaker for your beast, I see no reason why she should be punished."

Dumbledore inclined his high head in a strange little bow that caused Mr Doge to flush in happiness. "Thank you, Elphias. This whole matter would have been cleared much sooner if I had informed the Ministry of my decision to employ Ms Evans promptly. In the end this is the result of my tardiness."

"No matter, Albus, no matter, all's well that ends well. Now that the Ministry is aware, Jeremy will draw up the necessary paperwork and it will be behind us. And in the interim, I clear Ms Evans of all charges!"

A brunette man with grey sideburns sitting next to Mr Doge winced. "Until we investigate -"

"What's there to investigate, Urquart? Albus has explained everything and didn't Grimblehawk already say that the beast was well-taken care of and in excellent condition?"

Another man with a thick mane of hair and a beak-like nose gave a quick nod. "Yes, the Thestral was well-fed and showed no signs of -"

"See? That simply goes to prove that Ms Evans is doing her job well and there is really no need to punish her for that, is there?"

Urquart hesitated. "I am not advocating to charge her for mistreatment of the beast but until everything is clearly documented, we shouldn't be so quick to dismiss this trial with only a witness statement, especially without a vote from the present members of the Wizengamot ..."

"Only a witness statement.'" Mr Doge scoffed. "Very well, have it your way. Everyone, decide on your verdict."

For the first time since Dumbledore had swept into the room Petunia became aware of stares boring into her, some questioning, a few burning with judgement, whispered conversations now so silent she had no idea what they were talking about. Her heartbeat pulsed at her throat, strangeling any words she might have said, any rehearsed speeches of ignorance or innocence sitting in her gut like a clump of wool, scratching and intertwined.

Indeed, even though this was her own trial, apart from confirming her identity, Petunia hadn't yet said anything.

Shouldn't she have been allowed to make her own case? Why had no-one actually asked her if any of Dumbledore's claims were true? She felt more like an accessory to the chair beneath her than an actual human being, something sat down and judged without any agency.

And now all these strangers were whispering about her, deciding on her fate and if pressed they wouldn't even be able to tell her voice from anyone else's.

Petunia knew that she should be grateful to Dumbledore - he was apparently trying to help her, though she still couldn't figure out why he bothered. But the fact that his presence had so clearly overtaken the courtroom, that all his lies weren't questioned where Petunia's truths would have never been accepted, smarted.

And Petunia didn't believe in charity. There had to be a reason he was doing it, and she couldn't quite convince herself that it was simple benevolence. There was nothing connecting them, no debts or strings to tether him here, nothing to be gained - at least nothing Petunia could think of.

The courtroom slowly fell silent, a strange hush settling over them when Mr Doge straightened. "Good. Those in favour of clearing the accused of all charges?"

Hands rose into the air, Mr Doge's the first one, some slowly and hesitantly, others vigorously and fast as if they wanted everyone to know how convinced they were of Dumbledore's words, and secondary and less importantly, of Petunia's innocence. Her eyes darted across the rows, trying to see if it was enough, if she was free to go ...

"And those in favour of conviction?"

Macnair and Urquart lifted their arms among some others, but - not many! Way less than before ... Petunia was suddenly light-headed, her mouth parched and her eyes watery. She had dreamt of all those horrible fates that could await her, imprisoned, brain-washed and not even herself any longer, that she had never really considered the possibility that she would get away without punishment.

Doge looked around, his face beaming with satisfaction. "Just right, just right - cleared of all charges!"

Dumbledore straightened and bestowed him with a grateful smile. "Thank you for your understanding, Elphias. I'll make sure to have the paperwork readied. Good day to you all."

Then he turned towards Petunia, for the first time actually acknowledging her presence. She noticed that his eyes were bright blue and glimmering with hidden meaning. "Ms Evans, allow me to walk with you. I'll make sure to bring her home, Elphias, no need for an escort."

And that's how Petunia found herself, shackle-free and cleared of all charges, leaving the courtroom accompanied by the honourable headmaster she had never met before.

The air outside the courtroom tasted sweet to Petunia, breath after greedy breath inhaled deep into her lungs while her feet carried her away quickly and without conscious thought, as if her body wanted to flee the room behind her despite leaving unscathed.

Her instincts were telling her it wasn't over yet. Petunia glanced at the tall man keeping pace with her, looking unbothered by both her silence and brisk steps. He had clasped his hands behind his back, long purple sleeves hiding his fingers and was humming a soft tune.

Petunia still didn't know what he wanted.

The quiet lasted all the way to the elevators, the golden cage looking less like a prison when it took Petunia and her humming benefactor back to the Atrium this time. The sprawling hall had emptied further, only a handful of wizards and witches crossing the echoing, polished floors, each of them faltering when their eyes alighted on the wizard with his brightly coloured robes and sweeping beard.

In the end it was Dumbledore who broke their silence. "I hope my appearance today didn't unduly startle you, Ms Evans. Please excuse my familiarity, it was necessary."

They had halted right next to the creepy fountain with the proud wizard and witch, surrounded by poor, simpering creatures cast in eternal, metal subservience. Petunia forced her eyes away, sludging through the moor of her thoughts still heavy with relief and left-over fear, stirring possibilities and questions in her wake. Wizard-superiority and classism should be the least of her concerns at the moment.

"Why was it necessary?"

"I'm afraid it was the best solution presenting itself on such short notice."

"Short notice?"

"I only learned of your predicament recently. But more importantly, Ms Evans, my offer is genuine."
Petunia blinked, her thoughts successfully muddied once more. "Your offer?"

"I know my groundskeeper would be delighted to have an apprentice of his own - and as far as I am aware you are currently in search of a profession."

"You - you want me to work for you?"

"For Hogwarts," came the gentle correction, as if it made any difference.

Petunia refused to allow hope to take root, ruthlessly stamping down the delicate, unfurling sprouts.

"I am -" a muggle.

"I do not put much stock in judging others for something they have no influence on." Dumbledore's eyes ghosted to the fountain as if the implications of it were screaming as loudly at him as they were Petunia. "Though I am painfully aware that not many of my fellows subscribe to that same mindset."

One question finally bobbed to the surface of her whirling mind, boyed by stronger concerns than any other. "What about Aspen?"

Dumbledore blinked twice. "Oh, the Thestral, of course. He shall remain by your side, whatever your choice, though I don't doubt he would flourish among Hogwarts' herd."

Petunia swallowed. "There's a herd?"

"One of Hogwarts secrets - Thestrals drawing carriages since the school first opened its gate. Though nowadays not many are aware of them ... except of course those that take care of them."

Something rushed through Petunia, an excitement that was harder to bank than before. She saw herself and Aspen among many other Thestrals, taking flight, feeding all of them bits of meat ... but no. There had to be a catch.

"What would I have to do?"

"Learn from my groundskeeper for at least a year and help him to care for all the creatures that call Hogwarts and the surrounding forest their home. Board and lodging will be provided as will a small stipend for personal purchases."

It was too good.

"Why?"

Dumbledore tilted his head, his beard swishing.

Petunia's spite leaked into her voice, motivated by fear. "Why would you offer me this? You don't know me, you don't owe me anything, why are you helping me?"

When in the past you had simply sent a letter of rejection.

For a second Petunia thought she saw pity in those sky-coloured eyes but it vanished in the next second. "Sometimes it is not that difficult to see to the heart of a person, and yours, Ms Evans, is bright and compassionate, no matter the walls you have erected around it."

Petunia didn't allow his words to settle under her skin and distract her. "You had no reason to appear today."

"But I did." Dumbledore rustled his long sleeves and looked back at the statue. "This fountain is a monument of the way wizards have always treated others. To be seeked out by one I had thought lost to those ways means I have no complaints about coming here today."

"Seeked out?"

"Someone beseeched me on your behalf, quite dedicated and outspoken in fact."

Petunia's thoughts immediately tried to ferret out who it could be. Lily? Eugene? Maybe even Newt Scamander?

Dumbledore smiled serenely. "Someone who was wrecked by guilt and would like to keep his involvement secret. But I'm sure an intelligent girl such as you will arrive at the right conclusion on her own."

Wrecked by guilt ... impossible ...

But Dumbledore only winked. "One should never dismiss anything as an impossibility. It makes life so dull."

Severus watched as the tall girl stalked towards him across the hillside, thin arms held firmly against her chest. He would never admit it even under torture, but sometimes Petunia Evans reminded him of a famous ballerina he had seen in the papers once, with her long limbs, swan-like neck and highly held head.

At the moment though she more resembled a vengeful wraith, her white dress fluttering in her wake like ghostly wings and stormy, pale eyes focused on him with intensity, drawing ever near.

He still remembered how she had looked that night in front of his doorstep, pupils blown with panic, two red spots high on her cheeks and dirt crusted around her fine loafers. And then she had suddenly turned so pale Severus almost thought she must be bleeding, injured, his eyes searching for an invisible wound while she had tethered as if she would faint the next second.

It was you.

"It was you."

Something spiky pierced through his gut and Severus' breath stalled.

"You were the one who told Dumbledore."

Air reached his lungs again, blissfully flooding his blood with oxygen.

"I didn't," he retorted immediately.

"I know you did!"

That lying, old bugger, Severus thought.

Dumbledore had promised him his involvement would be kept from Petunia.

Silence settled over the hilltop, ironically the same hilltop Dumbledore had apparated to that summer evening, the air muggy and so thick with moisture it had been like soup. And Severus had been so twisted he hadn't even noticed one more thing burdening his shaky composure, all his annoyance and trepidation pointed towards himself like a sword hovering above the soft flesh of his abdomen.

"Why did you do it?"

Severus blinked back to the present. "I was drunk."

"What?"

Her screech was truly ear-splitting. Harpy.

Severus employed his best glower. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it does! What do you mean, you were drunk? You're fifteen!"

"And you're an absolute pain in the arse!"

"Wretch!"

"Harpy!"

"You -" She took a deep breath. "Why did you really do it?"

"Why have you called me, Severus? Receiving your letter was quite the surprise I must admit."

"I made a mistake - I need your help."

Even now the memory of the words tasted like ash in his mouth. There was no way he would say them again and especially no way that he would ever admit them to Petunia Evans of all people.

"It doesn't matter," he repeated.

For a second Severus wondered how he could have ever thought her eyes dull and washed-out. They were sharp and piercing, the colour of clouds just before thunder rolled and lightning split the sky.

And then she sighed and looked away, over the green fields and rustling trees in the distance. Severus knew there were no traces of Dumbledore's presence left behind, no footprints burnt into the earth or magic sparkling in the air but still he felt caught, like the one time he had been so hungry he had stolen a loaf of bread and earned himself a sound beating.

"Don't worry."

Severus did everything in his power to suppress his flinch.

"I didn't let Lily know that it was you who told the Ministry."

Severus stayed silent.

"Not out of compassion or some such - I just wasn't in the right frame of mind to explain anything and now ... well, there's no more reason to."

No more reason - "You don't forgive that easily."

She scoffed. "How would you know what I do or don't do?"

I've known you since I was ten.

"You're a right stingy minger."

"And you're a dimwitted git! And if I ever smell a drop of spirits on your breath I will tell Lily everything!"

With that Petunia whirled around, her white skirt whipping his shins resentfully, and then she marched off, just as determined as she had arrived. Severus watched her go and wondered why her threat hadn't made him angry.

Because Dumbledore's parting words had been much gentler but had left him furious.

"And what will you give me in return, Severus?"

"What do you want?"

"Keep an eye on Regulus Black for me, would you? You're not the only one I worry about. I sometimes think we Sort too soon ..."

Tricky, blasted codger.

And now Severus was in his debt.

"That old berk. Thought the sun shone out of my brother's every orifice, he did."
— Aberforth Dumbledore regarding Elphias Doge.