“Harry!” A bony hand gripped his shoulder, not ungently “It’s time for breakfast.”

Harry opened his eyes, the green innocence of which made his aunt’s face pinch into an uncomfortable expression. It had been three years and she still felt guilty.

Blinking, half-wincing at the still unfamiliar tugging feeling of his facial skin, Harry struggled into a sitting position, the ragged white scar-tissue cramping along his arm underneath the soft silk and linen pyjamas.

“Don’t forget the oil.” Petunia stated blandly. “They won’t get better unless you massage them properly.”

“Yes auntie.” Harry said meekly. Despite two years of careful application, the oil hadn’t helped much and it certainly would never break down the scars to leave healthy, unblemished, pink skin. But Petunia needed to think it did, she needed to believe that, one day, she’d be able to wear sleeveless summer dresses again, that, one day, strangers would not wince when they saw the raised, spidery lines which twisted Harry’s cheeks, leaving unspoken questions hovering heavily in the air.

She needed to believe that, one day, she would not be constantly reminded of the worst day of her life, when her stupid mistaken belief that Ripper would not hurt Harry had lead to... everything.

Harry padded to the bathroom and stepped into the shower. It still felt sort of luxurious, knowing that he could take his time, that he could use the good soap and as much shampoo as he liked. Stranger still was the sight of the big, white, fluffy Egyptian cotton towel with his name embroidered, in green thread, hanging next to Dudley’s. As miraculous as it (still) seemed, Harry and Dudley had the same.  

A thumping at the door, Harry flinched. “Oi! Harry! Your bacon’s getting cold.”

“Coming!” Harry ducked out of the hot water and, after a quick drying off and a few, guilty squirts of oil, hastily applied, he shrugged on his dressing gown and ran downstairs.

The table was quiet, orderly. Dudley was sitting in front of a huge plate of bacon and eggs, hastily gulping down his food.

“We couldn’t wait” Petunia explained. “Vernon’s going to be here any minute.”

“Going to get the school uniform” Dudley grunted between bites “Got letter” he indicated his plump head to Harry’s place setting.

Harry looked over to his plate, replete with bacon, eggs, toast and mushrooms. A large, golden envelope was propped beside his glass of milk. Mindful of his cooling food, Harry decided to leave it until after breakfast: gratitude embarrassed his aunt but Harry found it hard to take any part of his new life for granted.

The doorbell rang. Dudley jumped up.

“Bye Mum, Harry” he gulped, swallowing the last of his food. “Get you something from London.”

“Goodbye sweetie” Petunia kissed Dudley on the forehead. Instead of squirming away, as he once would, Dudley gave her a hug before waving at Harry and quickly waddling off down the hall. Harry tried not to watch his aunt’s face as his once-uncle’s voice drifted down the corridor. Her ultimatum had backfired and, although Petunia was stronger, had more self respect since that day in A&E, when she had finally stood up for herself, well, Harry was sure his aunt still missed Vernon. Still loved him for all she now disliked him but was too proud, too guilty to allow the man back in her life if he was going to shatter their uneasy (but slowly getting easier) peace.

“So, your letter Harry…”

Harry looked up, swallowing a mouthful of peppery mushrooms “Yes, aunt. Do you know who sent it?”

Petunia shuffled in her seat “Well, you know how I told you that your mother… and your father weren’t drunks, that they were in the police, secret service like, and that they’d been murdered by a mob boss who they were trying to bring down? That your mother actually died in killing the bas… the man?”

Shouted it rather. In Marge’s face. In front of the whole of A&E. Before Petunia slapped her, dripping blood over Marge’s ghastly pink tweed jacket.

Harry nodded.

“Well, it was true to a point. You see, your parents were, well, part of a… very secret service. They were police but not of… well, people like us… or rather people like me, normal people… They had, well, unusual skills. They were different…”

Freaks, Harry thought. It had been said to him and about his parents often enough in his old life. Before Ripper.

“They… well… there’s no use trying to sugar coat it… not that what they were was very bad…or bad at all… it’s just… I always thought it was important to fit in… to be normal.” Petunia moved her lips, seemingly struggling for words “They could do things, strange things that most normal people don’t even believe are even possible. That would scare most people, unnatural things that they couldn’t explain how they were able to do. That science said should be impossible. They could, well, they could do what most people would call… magic.”

Harry’s eyebrows had burrowed into his hairline, tugging painfully at his scars “Magic?”

Petunia waved her hand irritably “Just open your letter!”

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry… invites you to attend… September 1st… platform 9 ¾… supplies list… Wand? Cauldron? Robes? Owl or a Cat?!

“I expect you need to go shopping.” Petunia said, sounding as airy as a lead balloon. “You’ll have
a list, Lily did. Batswings and newt eyes and things. Don’t worry about money, I’ve been putting a bit by, just in case.”

Harry had not realised he’d been holding his breath until it came out in a rush. “But where do we go to get… stuff like this?”

“London.” Petunia replied “There’s a pub, I’m pretty sure I can still remember where it is. We can go today, if you’d like…”

0o0o0

Luckily for them both, the letter had contained a map with directions to the Leaky Cauldron, as well as a warning that they might not see the pub immediately.

Amidst his quiet excitement, Harry felt a certain amount of pride in his aunt. He knew that, well, Petunia was a bit too keen on being normal; she was a Daily Mail reader who bought her clothes in M&S, kept her house as clean as a new pin and believed exotic cuisine was a prawn cocktail. The thought of her willingly going into a shabby, disreputable little pub and then enter a street full of, let’s be fair, freaks… Harry couldn’t have believed it would ever happen two years ago and, even now, it was still weird to think that Petunia was about to get off the bus and, in her pink twin-set and pearls, casually walk into the wizard world- just for him.

But, weird as it was, Petunia did just that. The leaky Cauldron, when Harry spied it, was even worse than he could have imagined. Muddy, misshapen cobblestones led up to a pub which appeared to be falling down under a thatch whose straw a horse had apparently used for bathroom purposes. Harry nervously licked his lips and looked over at Petunia.

“Let’s get it over with.”

Once inside, the pub wasn’t actually so bad, more cosy than grotty and Harry, in relief, saw his aunt admiring the polished counter and gleaming crystal and silverware.

“What can I get you madam?” an old man behind the counter asked kindly.

“A brandy, just a small one please” Petunia asked. “And a coke for you, Harry?”

“Coke would be good.”

The old man nodded and, selecting the most shiny of his glasses, began to pour the drinks “First time here, Ma’am? Sorry about the state of the outside, been wanting to smarten up before the millennium but planning permission…”

Petunia smiled, obviously more at her ease “Oh yes, they are like little Hitlers, at least in our world, always telling you that you can’t do this or that, as if it wasn’t your own property.”

Letting his aunt wind down in the care of the sympathetic barman, Harry sipped his coke and looked around, trying to spy the exit, hoping for a glimpse of Diagon Alley.

“And so we have come here to try and pick up my nephew’s school things. I was here with Lily, my sister, many years ago but I don’t really know where we are going to find half of what is on the list.”

“Lily…” the barman’s eyes knotted together. Harry looked over in surprise, green eyes concerned. “Bless my soul. Is it.. can it really be Harry Potter?”

Suddenly it seemed like dozens of people were standing around them, each person trying to talk to him at once.

“Harry Potter? Well I never…”

“Mr Potter, an autograph! Please!”

“Just like your father, I knew him so well”

“Poor lad, to think we all thought you’d got off unscathed…”

Petunia stood up, riffling in her purse.

“Free of charge, free of charge” the barman said, walking around to the other side of the counter. “Come on folks, let the boy through, just a child, you know.”

The crowd parted and Petunia and Harry were ushered gently but firmly to a wall, which the barman rapped with a long, thin stick that suddenly appeared to materialise in his fingers. The wall disappeared, revealing a long, winding street, lined on either side with buildings, with styles ranging from Tudor to Victorian, all of which were shops carrying the most amazing, unusual things.

A grocer with strangely shaped fruits and oddly coloured vegetables, an ironmongers with stacks of cauldrons, some tiny enough to be used by a fairy, others large enough to boil a man, another boutique-y type of shop with window-full of white silk draped steps appeared to be showcasing old brook-sticks.

“First shop is the owl emporium, I’d head there for a bit, let people cool off, should have realised there would be a bit of excitement” the man said contritely.

Petunia nodded. “I had no idea that my sister was so… famous.”

“As good a witch as ever there was and lovely too, with those eyes and that red hair.” The old man’s eyes clouded with tears. “A pretty pair you must have made, though I never think I saw you together.”

Petunia blushed scarlet.

“Now, don’t you mind old Tom” the barman smiled, believing Petunia to be embarrassed by the compliment. “Off with you two and have a good day.”

Taking Tom’s advice, Harry and Petunia headed for the Owl shop.

“It’s as good a time as any to look around” Petunia said, looking straight ahead “I imagine you’d prefer an owl to a cat, easier to write home, if you want to, that is.”

“Oh! Of course, yes, I’d love an owl!” Harry exclaimed, flushing with pleasure. “Can I really have one?”

“As long as it’s not noisy and you clean out its cage.”

Walking on air, Harry skipped into the shop: he didn’t know what made him happier- getting a pet or knowing that his aunt wanted to hear from him whilst he was at school, just like Dudley.

“You go and choose and I’ll talk to the manager or whomever about transporting it home” Petunia told him, making a beeline for the sales desk “We can’t drag the poor thing after us all day and I don’t think you can take owls on the train.”

Smiling at the thought of his aunt on the train with an owl, of all things, Harry hurried off to look around the shop.

The problem with shopping for a new pet, Harry found himself thinking as he walked beside the large aviaries, is that you never can really choose. No soon as he fell in love with a sweet, tiny Scops owl, Harry saw a beautiful, ghost-like barn owl but, a minute later, he was coveting a majestic eagle owl. There were so many, too many.

“Too bad I don’t know anything about owls, I suppose”

“Ha! And you’re in an owl shop, filled with owl books and people who know all about the things! Now I wonder what you can do to find out about owls?”

Harry turned to see a boy of about his own age, with a pale, pointed face, a swept back mass of impossibly fair hair and the most amazingly beautiful owl Harry had ever seen on his arm.

“What’s that!?”

“What happened to your face?!”

Both boys stared at each other. The blond boy cleared his throat, looking rather embarrassed. “Er, this is a snowy owl. Quite a nice one really. They’re quiet, clean and intelligent. A good choice for a beginner.”

“Oh! Thanks” Harry smiled “Um, and my face, it was a dog attack.”

“Oh, nasty.” Draco looked at Harry, interest battling with manners. As always, inquisitiveness won “What breed?”

“Bulldog”

“I didn’t know they caused curse scars. What’s your treatment? Murtlap oil?”

“I’ve got some oil, I don’t know what’s in it. Um… is that your owl?”

“Oh, no. I was thinking about it… but I think I’d prefer an eagle owl. I saw one I liked back there.”

“Oh, the big browny black one. He’s amazing, looks fierce though. Um, could I stroke the… was it a snowy owl?”

“Yeah, sure, you can hold her if you like. She’s really gentle. She won’t bite or anything”

Gently, the boy walked over to Harry and held out his wrist. Tentatively, the white owl stepped onto Harry’s arm.

“She’s so beautiful.” Harry sighed.

“Yeah.” Draco looked curiously at Harry “So, are you scared of dogs now?”

“I don’t know, maybe a little I suppose.”

“Father is just outside, socialising one of our dogs; she a puppy and needs to learn to behave in public. She’s gentle but big and a bit bouncy, would you be okay if he came in with her? It’s just that he might be back any minute. I’m Draco by the way, Draco Malfoy,”

Before Harry could answer, there was a loud snap of a breaking lead, a woman’s scream and Harry felt a huge, warm mass of fur collide with him, knocking him into Draco, who fell beside him onto the hard earth floor. The snowy owl took off with an angry shriek.

“Hera! Come here!”

“Harry!”

Had a photographer been present, it would have been the shot of the century. Lucius Malfoy, his blond mane in glorious disarray, pulling the rear end of a huge, blond bear who, somehow, managed to grab the end of his snake-headed walking cane, whilst being hit over the head by the sensible handbag of a primly dressed muggle, who was screaming the most remarkable obscenities whilst she fought to extract her nephew from under the slobbering dog.

After what felt like an eternity, the dog and child were separated and a minute of comparative peace passed whilst Hera was ticked off for being an absolute disgrace to canine kind and a shame to her bloodline and noble dam, whilst Harry was checked over by a white faced Petunia. Draco danced between the two groups, alternatively begging his father not to be too angry, she was just a puppy, and Harry to realise that she was just saying hello, she was just a puppy.

After Petunia had been assured by Harry that Hera had merely tried to licked him to death and Lucius had fully vented his spleen on the still incorrigibly smiling dog, the two adults turned to look at one another. The children, dog and owl looked on in silence.

After the moment had stretched for what seemed, to the children, for an eternity, the Malfoy sangfroid reasserted itself enough for Lucius to say “Well, Draco, are you going to introduce me to your friends?”

Draco looked at Harry, suddenly unsure. He mouthed three single syllables and one disyllable at the green eyed boy.

What Draco was trying to ask was ‘are you a muggle?’

What Harry, who had forgotten that he had not introduced himself, interpreted was “You Har-ry Potter?”

Harry nodded and whispered “Yes, Harry Potter.”

Draco’s eyes widened to the size of saucers “Dad!” he whisper-screamed “It’s Harry Potter!”

Lucius sighed “I believe some people in Knockturn Alley may have not been quite been able to hear you, Draco.” He held out a sable gloved hand to Petunia “Madam, my apologies for my unruly offspring, they have not yet been fully trained for public presentation. At least I can attempt to keep my pup on a lead” he held up the broken leather strap “the child is a different matter.”

Draco rolled his eyes at Harry, who grinned. The man, with his long blond hair, bore more than a passing resemblance to both dog and child.

Petunia tried to look implacable but found it rather difficult to sneer in the face of aristocratic beauty, eventually murmuring “The boy seems fine. No harm done.”

Draco smiled, relaxing as the tension ebbed away “See, Harry, not all dogs are nasty. Hera didn’t even try to bite you.”

Harry grinned back “I think I’d be short of a head if I did. Is she a special wizard dog?”

“Not really, no more than most dogs. She doesn’t have venom or anything.”

“Venom?!”

“Yeah, some dogs do, like the one that bit you.” Draco turned to his father “Harry was bitten by a bull dog! Can you imagine, it must have been huge, like a Cerberus. Was it the horns or fangs that were cursed?”

Harry looked non-plussed “Um, it was just a… normal bulldog, it didn’t have horns or anything.”

Draco looked confused “But…”

“I think that’s enough, Draco.” Lucius said quietly, eying Petunia with a calculating eye “Muggle medicine… does not have access to certain potions”

Draco looked horrified “You mean, it was just a normal bite? From a muggle dog!” Draco looked at Petunia and Harry “Are you living with Mu- ouch”

Harry blinked: he was sure he had just seen a spark had flashed from Lucius’ walking cane.

“Ow, that hurt.” Draco complained, rubbing his bottom. “Wait till mother hears! I might even need murtlap!” he paused “Hey, murtlap would work, wouldn’t it, on your face if it’s not a curse scar?”

“Really?” Petunia asked. “Is there really something that can reduce scarring?”  

“Yes” Lucius replied “I have a friend…”

“My godfather!” Draco interrupted proudly, stung bottom entirely forgotten.

“Who has a laboratory nearby. It may be possible to reduce some of the scarring.”

“Yeah, so you could look normal again!” Draco added cheerfully

Lucius closed his grey eyes, fair eyebrows drawing together. Pertunia pursed her lips in sympathy; the only thing worse than a silent, awkward child was a noisy, nosy indiscrete one, that was already reminding her too much of Dudley, whose lack of tact was once legendary.

oOoOo

Once the owls were retrieved (the snowy owl still sulking) and paid for (by Lucius, at his insistence, in recompense for the earlier contra-temps), Lucius turned to Pertunia and Harry.

“I may be able to assist you in instating your owl in your home. I have a number of… servants who are capable of magically transferring goods. They are, however, if I might warn you, somewhat unusual, being rather smaller and greyer in appearance than humans.”

“Cool, like aliens!” Harry gasped.

Draco grinned “Yeah, they’re really cool; they do everything you ask. Only the very best wizarding families have them! ”

Lucius smiled indulgently “Yes, indeed. Shall I summon her?”

Petunia looked slightly nervous, so Harry said “Go on Auntie, it’s better than carrying her home on the train”

“Yes, yes you are right. Thank you Mr Malfoy, it would be very kind.”

Lucius snapped his fingers, before continuing conversationally “The Potters, a very ancient family, also inherited an elf, I believe. Although your sister did insist on giving her clothes and…”

There was a sudden, loud crack and a small, grey figure appeared at Petunia’s feet.

“Argh!”

“Dobby!” Lucius snapped “What are you doing here”

“Lolo was busy master. Dobby thought…”

“Dobby thought wrong.  And what have I told you about wearing that thing!”

The small humanoid looked up at the group with bulging, yellow eyes, his spidery hands clawing at the filthy pillowcase which he was wearing “Dobby has no clothes”

“I have given you a new uniform!”

The creature burst into tears and grabbed its bat-like ears “Dobby will iron his ears! Bad! Bad!”

“Dobby will leave his ears alone and certainly not ruin another iron! Fetch Lolo now and do not stray from the manor or else”

Not waiting to hear what “else” entailed, Dobby disappeared and, after a moment, there was a discrete pop and a small house-elf, whose ears were considerably less batlike and whose nose was shaped just like a button mushroom, stepped out from behind the counter. Unlike Dobby, she was primly turned out in an ironed, linen pillowcase, trimmed with lace and embroidered with lines of silver, gold and absinthe green. Lucius smiled.

“Ah, Lolo, take Hera and the brown owl and leave them with Narcissa. The white owl is to be delivered to 4 Privet Drive, Little Whining, leave the cage on the desk in the smallest bedroom.”

Lolo nodded obediently “Yes Master”

“And, if Narcissa does not need you for anything, please visit Spriggs and buy Dobby a new uniform- fire, tear, stain and idiot retardant, if you please, and use a sticking charm.”

“Yes master.” Lolo said “And should I be giving Lolo and Dobby bread and water. For letting him gets out, Master Sir.”

Lucius sighed “No, he should be a helpmeet, not an extra chore.  When you are at Spriggs, you may buy one of equal expense for yourself, I believe that there is a new range on the upper floor. Choose whichever form of livery you wish” he said indulgently.  

Lolo grinned “The flowers, Master Sir?”

“As you wish. Swiftly now.”

“Was that a house elf!” Harry asked, when the creature (plus the dog and two owls) had disappeared

“Yes” Lucius explained, looking slightly aggrieved “I apologise for the appearance and manners of Dobby.”

“Dobby’s always sneaking out” Draco confided in Harry “He’s mental but Dad says we can’t get rid of him because he’d tell all the family secrets to the first blood-traitor he found.”

“And, after all, that is your role, Draco” Lucius muttered, half to himself. Petunia smiled sympathetically: the number of times Dudley had innocently spilt the beans to exactly the wrong person!

Lucius caught Petunia’s smile and relaxed; being around muggles was rather liberating- no need to keep up the public façade and, as Harry’s aunt obviously had no interest in being a witch, being as polite as necessity required was not as difficult as it might have been.

“Now, as it is nearly lunch time, I suggest we call on my friend; he usually breaks from his morning’s work around 12 o’clock.”

Petunia nodded and they exited the shop and set off down Diagon Alley, passing through an archway and then entering a narrower, darker, rather Dickensian street, the shop-windows of which were either swathed in greying silk or filled with strange and ominous things, like books with blinking eyeballs, large necklaces of darkly glimmering stones and daggers.

“It would be best to stay close” Lucius said “The best potioneers in the world reside in this area but it has little else to recommend it.”

Petunia looked at Harry, who in turn tried to look reassuring. Draco was alright and his Dad was a bit aloof, like he secretly thought he was better than other people, but he had been kind and very generous, what with buying the owl and everything.

After passing a ragged, toothless old woman selling what looked like fingernails out of a tray, they turned a corner and arrived at a quiet but still rather gothic little square, the tall, pale buildings of which each had a black front door and were guarded by an abundance of black railings. The perfectly symmetrical garden in the middle of the square was hedged with yew and criss-crossed with red rose bushes. Harry got the impression that walking on the grass would be a terminally stupid idea.

Lucius ungloved his hand and laid it upon the gate of the second house, the locks of which opened at his touch. As Harry mounted the pale steps leading to the front door, he noticed the iron knocker was shaped like a lily. Again, the door slowly swung open to the touch of Lucius’ hand.

Inside, the hallway had a faded elegance; the wallpaper, although old, had the simplicity of expense, merely sage green and white striped, edged with pale gold, and the narrow stretch beside the stairs merely held a dark wood coat rack, on which a rather rusty black cloak hung. The area was dominated by a narrow staircase, lined with dark green carpet and flanked by twisting iron banisters.

“He will be upstairs.” Lucius said, mounting the first step.

“Um, will he mind us just walking in?” Petunia asked, slightly embarrassed.

“Oh no” Draco said, his cheerfulness returning despite the sombre settings “If he’s working on something the door will be locked but he knows we’re here.”

“Oh, I didn’t hear a bell” Petunia said, sounding relieved

“He’ll know Dad’s here from his magic signature on the gate” Draco said, rolling his eyes at Harry as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

Harry grinned at Petunia, who smiled nervously back.

The landing was similarly bare; just a few, high backed chairs with dull gilt and faded velvet in what once must have been jewel tones. As Draco had said, a door was open.

Lucius entered the room, followed by Draco, Harry and Petunia. A tall, thin man with long, slightly greasy dark hair was standing with his back to them, putting away a large tome, which appeared to have a Latin title.

He turned and locked eyes with Petunia.

“Bloody hell, it’s you!”

0o0o0

This time, Petunia was the first to recover; taking a deep breath she said “Good afternoon, Sev.”

The tall man swallowed before adding blandly “It’s 11.59 actually, Petunia.”

“Afternoon, then.”

“Actually, it’s gone 12 now” Draco said helpfully “But how do you two know each other”

Before Severus could vocalise a tactful lie, Petunia, with the air of someone pulling out a particularly nasty splinter, said “We grew up together. Severus was my sister, Lily’s best friend. I however, was a stuck up little brat and never had much time for him, nor he for me, I might add. We’ve not seen each other for about twelve years.”

Severus blinked. He was used to the world spinning like a top- anyone who had survived the Dark Lord’s latter years was used to pink becoming black and up turning to down, the man was as fickle as he was dangerous- but seeing Lucius Malfoy, pureblood supremacist, walking in with Petunia Evans, Magic-Hater, on his arm was more than any sane man could comprehend. And where was the spiteful girl who would lie through her teeth just to embarrass him? This woman had her face and her voice but her manner towards him was a shade too respectful to be recognisable.

“You really knew my mother?”

Severus’ gaze fell on the small, slender boy whose heartbreakingly familiar green eyes peered out of a face which was a mass of knobbly white scar tissue. Lily’s son.

“Harry?”

“Yeah” the child’s smile was as sweet as his mother’s “I got bitten up by Ripper, that’s why my face is messed up. He was Aunt Marge’s dog”

“He was put down?” Severus asked

“Aunt Petunia killed him” Harry replied quietly “She stabbed him with the potato knife until he stopped biting.”

“Cool!” Draco exclaimed

 Lucius placed a hand on his son’s shoulder “Come, Draco. I think we should continue with our purchases.”

“What? I wanted to hear more about the potato knife!”

“It was just the knife I was using to peel the potatoes” Harry replied, looking worried at Lucius’ stern expression.

Lucius schooled his face into a smile “I merely thought it best to allow you and, I believe your aunt, to consult with Severus in private”

“Actually, Lucius, if Petunia agrees, it may be an idea if Harry accompanies you. I do not need to carry out an examination, merely tweak one of my bases. Petunia, as an old friend, can assist me.”

“Can muddies work with potions, then?” Draco asked inquisitively “I thought the taint would ruin them.”

“How about we go and have some ice-cream, boys?!” Lucius said, smiling tightly.

“Yes, I think that would be a very good idea” replied Severus, “We’ll meet you there.”

When the front door clicked shut, Severus and Petunia subtly relaxed.

“Muddies?” asked Petunia

“Foul word for muggles. Lucius, if you have not yet guessed, is rather old fashioned in his views”

“Like me?” Petunia replied wryly. “He puts a good face on, I’ll give him that.”

“He is a consummate politician.”

“Better than bloody Potter. I’ll tell you that.”

“The senior, I presume” Severus asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Treated us like retards from the get go, the arrogant bastard. His son’s nothing like him, understand that well, Snape.”

//There’s my Tuney// Severus thought with a grim satisfaction, the girl was still there.

“So, Petunia, tell me the worst: other than the face, what are the boy’s injuries?”

“Arms, legs, a nasty scratch on the neck. I got him off before he could get to the boys throat.” Petunia said blankly.

“And you?”

“I don’t matter”

Severus paused; he’d been ready for an answer to the tone of ‘I don’t want your help’ but this was a rather unexpected response.

“Providing another jar for your use will not generate any additional work.”

Petunia looked at her old adversary, a guarded expression on her face.

“What happened to you, Tuney” Severus asked, his voice soft.

“I got what I deserved; married a bully, let him treat my nephew like dirt and now look at the boy- he’s ruined. I didn’t like him, too much like his father, I thought. But it was just appearances.”

“He’s more like his mother?!”

“No, not at all. He’s like Dad, he’s kind, thoughtful and he’s forgiving… too forgiving really”

Serverus looked puzzled.

“You know full well what I mean” Petunia said sharply “Lily was no paragon, she was a narrow-minded, silly little bitch who couldn’t see past her own wounded dignity.” Petunia sighed “We were more alike, her and me, than I’d admit; we both married rich bullies, both let down people who we should have had some sort of loyalty to. Harry’s my flesh and blood and you, you were her best friend.”

“Lily did not let me down, I”

“Called her a nasty name whilst you were being humiliated in front of the whole school, from what I heard. Dad told her she should get off her high horse and show some proper Christian understanding but she was too stubborn to listen.”

Severus swallowed, aware of an uncomfortable prickling in his nostrils, which only intensified when Petunia added “He really cared about you, Dad did. Said you were worth both James and Vernon put together.”

“I expect James did not appreciate the sentiment.”

Petunia grinned “Oh, we had a pretty to do- Vernon wasn’t the problem, for once, just stormed off. That aristocratic friend of James’, though, he pulled out his wand. I never knew that you could magic boils that bit.”

“He hexed Alf!”

“No, Lily was the one that did the magic. Almost broke the thing off, that did. More’s the pity.”

“Didn’t want Lily to marry a wizard?”

“No, I didn’t want her to marry the wrong one.” Petunia said quietly “When all’s said and done, Snape, you were respectful and you tried to fit in with us. James bought nothing but trouble, as I knew he would. After all the stories Lily told us, to go off and marry him. People don’t change, that’s one thing I’ve learnt.”

“Yeah, right. A handsome face, a good pedigree and a full wallet. Any common stripper could see the good in that”

“Please do not talk about Lily like that.”

Petunia shook her head “You deserved better, Snape. So did Mum and Dad. To think, Vernon, Dudley and I would have been next! Best idea Vernon ever had, pretending his name was Grunnings- no one thought to look for Dursleys. And all because of James Potter.”

“It was not entirely Potter’s fault” Severus said heavily “If the Dark Lord had not been informed of the prophesy…”

 “He did enough.” Petunia interrupted sharply “Even if that damn prophesy hadn’t been an issue, his antics were enough to single them out, and with Lily being born into a normal family!  When there’s a psycho on the loose, you don’t paint a target on your forehead, not if you have relations, people who rely on you or who can be used to get at you. Dad told him that.  He put us all in danger, treating it like it was some game. But it wasn’t him that got tortured, was it? He was hidden away by then.”

Severus paled “Torture?”

“Yeah. They don’t just ask nicely” Petunia said bitterly.

Severus swallowed “If it had not been for the prophesy…”

Petunia looked over at the man she had once known so well; pale, stooping as if in pain, Severus looked positively ill. Her eyes met his and, in their dark depths she saw something, was it guilt? Childhood memories flickered; Petunia had been a stirrer, she liked spying on people, finding out their guilty secrets and then blurting them out at the worst possible moment and standing back to enjoy the fireworks. The only person who she could never catch out was Severus, who was also- not so coincidentally- the only one who ever turned the tables on her, silently eavesdropping on her plans and, sometimes, scuppering them- usually as revenge against some slight against Lily.

Suddenly, Petunia realised. Anger rose, bubbling and then drowning under the grief which was coming off the man in waves.  

“You weren’t to know how he’d react.” She found herself saying “Killing a baby just isn’t normal, even if you’re a psychopath and it’s prophesised to vanquish you, or whatever. Dad didn’t believe it himself, kept talking about Oedepus and how anyone with any brains would just wait till the right time and kidnap the kid and raise him like a son. That would have made sense. You couldn’t have known that he’d try and kill the baby.”

“I did not, however it was my fault.”

“You did not tell him to go after her, did you?”

“No, when I discovered what he intended, that it was Lily, I begged for her life.”

“You were with him, then?”

“It was my greatest mistake.”

Petunia sighed “Dad always said, if you turned against normal people, it’d be me who’d done it. That was before James came along, it’s true, but I didn’t help, nor did Lily.”

“No, I…” Severus looked wretched “I wanted to do a mastery in potions. He paid for it, told me that I deserved a chance at greatness, that I could be great and that he would help me. I thought Dumbledore, the Minister, were lying; Gryffindores do not like Slytherins, as a rule. They do not trust us, think the very worst, against all evidence. I did not realise what he was, not until it was too late.”

Severus licked his lips “I was. I am”

Petunia smiled sardonically “I cannot believe you’re telling me this, Severus.”

“Perhaps a confidence for a confidence?”

“And, besides, who would I tell”

“Outside, there are whole crowds of people.”

Petunia smiled sadly “Well, perhaps my keeping mum will even things out a bit. I made your life difficult enough”

“I was not exactly a saint”

“You were just responding to me, like that James. And it was his fault, Severus, so stop blaming yourself- you weren’t to know.”

“Like you were not to know about the dog.” Severus said quietly.

Petunia replied tearfully “No, Sev, it shouldn’t even have been in the house. I shouldn’t have let Marge near Harry, I knew what she was. I failed him and I don’t even know how to raise a wizard or how to keep him safe, this Lucius…”

“Will protect the boy with his life.” Severus smiled “Good PR opportunities seldom arrive so swiftly; I expect the boys are eating sundaes the size of their heads.”

“Will you protect him too, Severus. I mean, I know there’s not a whole lot you can do, what with him being at school but…”
 
“Actually, Petunia” Severus smiled “If you remember, I was doing a mastery in potions”

“Yeah, Dad said.”

“Congratulations.” Petunia replied, looking relieved “So, will Harry be in your house?”

“That I do not know. However, wherever he is sorted, I will protect him to the best of my ability, I would have done so whatever, he is Lily’s son.”

“And Alf’s grandson.” Petunia added. “He’s a good boy.” She held out her hand.

Severus reached out and took the glove in his, gently feeling for scar tissue as he shook it.

“A truce” he asked, with a half-smile.

“Truce.”

0o0o0

Petunia was not wholly surprised when Severus, instead of lighting a caldron, opened a rather full cupboard and pulled out two large porcerlain pots, sealed with beeswax.”

“One for you, one for the boy. If you need anything stronger, an owl to the Potion Master of Hogwarts should reach me.”  

Setting off down the rode (rather stiffly at first- being on Serverus’ arm was an experience that Petunia had never anticipated and felt strange, despite their new-found camaraderie), Severus escorted Petunia to Fortesques ice-cream shop where, as predicted, the boys were eating massive ice cream sundaes with every sign of appreciation.

Lucius looked up and indicated to two chairs; in front of one was a black and green ice cream sundae, drizzled with a white, opalescent sauce and in front of the other, a delicate white and cream coloured Sunday, which had been carved into the shape of a swan and was floating on a pale sparkling river.

“A champagne swan” Severus said quietly “lemon and apricot ice-cream on a champagne sorbet. Very nice and not at all poisoned”

“Thanks, Snape” Petunia whispered back.

“Don’t thank me; I will indeed be eating all of the absinthe and crème de anise ice-cream with the ice-brandy sauce and will be no good to you for the rest of the afternoon.”

Petunia sat down, thanking Lucius, who was idly eating a similar swan ice-cream (a black swan- chocolate and crème de anise on a pink champagne sorbet).

“I have never eaten so much ice cream!” Harry grinned, by way of a greeting.

“Careful you don’t get sick”

“You can’t get sick” Draco grinned “It’s special ice cream, it shrinks in your stomach so you can eat it forever!”

Petunia made a mental note to find some for Dudley.

“So Harry, I hear that you will be attending Hogwarts this year”

Harry looked up from his ice-cream. Severus’ heart contracted at the sight of the beautiful green eyes, surrounded by thickened white flesh that covered most of the rather heart-shaped face. The boy was so similar to Lily- only the untidy mass of hair reminded Severus of the child’s paternity.

“Oh, yeah I will be. Like Draco” Harry paused, before adding shyly “Draco says you’re Head of Slytherin, which is the best house.”

“I am indeed”

“Do you think I’ll be good enough for Slytherin.” Harry bit his lip “I’m only a half-blood.”

“As am I” Severus replied “That is how I know your aunt.”

Draco looked at his father with wide eyes. Lucius put a finger to his lips.

“Oh! Cool!” Harry replied, eating a large scoop of apricot ice-cream. “Mmm this is yummy! Thanks Mr Malfoy.”

Lucius nodded. Petunia decided to engage Draco in conversation, if only to remove some of the tension between father and son.

“So, Draco, do you and your father have much shopping left to do?”

“Oh, no not really. We were just getting an owl for school. I’m going to do the rest of the shopping with mother, on 31st.”

“Oh, cool, that’s my birthday!”

“Oh, wow! Hey, Dad, why doesn’t Harry come along with us!”

“You will have to arrange it with his aunt, Draco. She may have plans.”

“Can I, aunt Petunia” Harry asked eagerly.

“I suppose so, as long as you’re back by teatime. I’ve got a cake ordered and you can invite your new friends, if you wish.”

Harry looked around, smiling

“Yeah! Can we Dad! I’ve never been to a muggle birthday!”

“Yes! Yes, not so loud!”

 “And you, Severus?” Petunia asked; the more Snape got to know Harry, the better.

“Come on, Sev!” Draco exclaimed.

“Yes, of course, thank you Petunia.”

Harry smiled happily. One day in the wizarding world and he already knew another kid, a real wizard and a teacher at his new school, who had known his mother…

“Um, er S… um Mr Snape?”

“Yes, Harry and you may call me Serverus whilst we are not at school.” He added graciously

“Oh, thanks. Um… do you have any pictures of my mother? Only we just have ones of her as a kid at home. And a wedding photo. And I thought, as you were at school together...?”

Lily’s eyes looked up at him beseechingly from the little boy’s face.

“I will see what I can find”

“Thanks!”

Petunia relaxed back into her chair and let the soft champagne sorbet melt into her mouth. For the first time in five years, a feeling of hope blossomed, its peaceful tendrils whispering throughout her body that all could be well once more.