Chapter Text
Petunia hummed as she folded the strips of dough over the apple pie. It was tuneless, a random melody that she had probably heard in a commercial on the television. It certainly sounded like a jingle. When the last strip of dough was folded over, she pulled open the oven and stuck the pie inside. After dusting the flour off her hands, she looked around the kitchen, and sighed at the prospect of cleaning it up.
Flour was scattered everywhere, there were eggshells strewn on the counters, and apple skins on the floor. Petunia sighed. Though she prided herself on her cooking, she was not the cleanest in the kitchen. She thought of calling one of the boys in to help her, but no. She had made this mess, and she would be responsible for cleaning it up. She picked up a towel, resigned to start cleaning up the flour first, when the doorbell rang.
Petunia groaned. Of all the times for someone to come over, why now? She tossed the towel onto the counter, and made her way to the door, hoping that they wouldn’t ask to come in. With a sigh, she pulled the door open, before freezing.
“Severus?”
-
Severus faced the woman in front of him, trying to correlate the image with that of the girl he had had the misfortune of knowing in his childhood. Petunia’s hair was longer, and pulled into a messy ponytail, small wisps of it framing her face. She was wearing a faded red and yellow checkered apron, and it was white with flour. He wondered what she had been cooking. Petunia didn’t seem like the type to cook a lot. However, he reflected, it had been a long time since he had seen her last.
“Severus…” Petunia breathed. She looked shocked. He couldn’t blame her. He had never expected to see her again - hadn’t wanted to.
“Petunia,” he said curtly. He cut right to the chase. “I’m here to give Mr. Potter his letter. There was a mix-up with the mail.”
Petunia nodded, seeming slightly out of breath. “Ah, yes… I’m sorry.” Petunia opened the door further and stepped out of the entryway. “Won’t you come in?”
Surprised, Severus nodded, purely out of reflex. This was… the last thing he had expected. If anything, he thought that this interaction would be short, both of them trying to minimize the amount of time together. However, here was Petunia, offering to let him into her house, him, one of the people she believed to be freaks. He wondered if this was simply learned manners that had developed over the years, or if she genuinely wanted him to come in.
Regardless of her intentions, he stepped inside. The house was a bit more… homey than he had expected. The entryway led into a living room, connected to a large, rather messy kitchen. There were a lot of windows, quite a few of them open, letting in the evening breeze. The furniture all looked extremely comfortable, a few throw pillows and blankets scattered around. And the walls. Oh my, the walls were beautiful.
Petunia seemed to have foregone normal pictures, as the walls were painted with beautiful pictures - one could not call them pictures, they were murals. It was almost a fantasy - fog rolling through a wood, a deer and two fauns grazing on one wall, a phoenix soaring over a mountain on another. The kitchen walls were covered in cherry trees with beautiful pink blossoms. The living room - oh.
Hogwarts.
Almost entranced, he stepped forward. The walls painted a scene of the gigantic castle
at night, fireworks exploding over it, their reflection glittering in the lake.
Severus was not the most emotional man - in fact, he hardly let his slytherin mask slip, preferring to have a stern, cold demeanor. But this… this was incredible. His mask cracked, then fell away altogether, as he turned around and around in the room, feeling as if he was experiencing Hogwarts for the first time as a little boy, sitting in one of those small boats with Lily, feeling free for the first time. As he had aged, the castle had become more and more normal for him, but this brought back the magic he had felt thrumming through him as he had first been in the presence of that great castle.
He turned to Petunia, who was intently watching him, gauging his reaction. Stiffly, he spoke in a guttural voice, “Who… made this?”
A fond smile crossed Petunia’s face. “My nephew is quite the prodigy.”
-
Petunia awaited Severus’s reaction, unsure of how he would feel. A surprised look crossed his face, followed by something she couldn’t quite identify. He slipped back into his usual cold demeanor, and walked toward her. “Where is Mr. Potter? I need to give him his letter.”
Petunia nodded. “He is upstairs, in his room. I will go get him. Make yourself comfortable.” She turned away, and walked up the stairs.
Upstairs a hallway stretched out in front of her, with three bedrooms and a bathroom branching off of it. These walls were plain white, and had not been decorated yet. As she walked down the hallway, she peeked into one of the open rooms - Dudleys. He was sitting at his computer, playing a colorful game and blasting aliens into smithereens. She was glad he was occupied, she didn’t want him to come downstairs. The conversation was between her, Severus, and her nephew.
Continuing down the hall past her own room, she reached the final room. The door was shut, and she lightly rapped her knuckles on it. “Harry? May I come in?”
A voice answered from inside: “It’s unlocked.”
She pulled the door open. He was standing in the middle of the room, at his easel. A palette was to his side, covered in splotches of dark colors. The canvas too, was covered in dark smudged marks of paint. The room was light by the sunset, but the sun was almost gone, therefore it was almost completely dark.
Harry turned to her. “Do you need something, Aunt Petunia?” His brow was furrowed, and he looked frustrated.
“There is someone downstairs who wishes to talk to you. It concerns your Hogwarts letter. He says that there was a mix-up with the mail.”
Just like that, the dark mood in the room vanished, and Harry lit up. Literally. His ears began glowing, and he shoved the palette down and ran up to her. “Does that mean I get one?”
Petunia grinned despite herself, almost enchanted at the childish happiness that was projecting off of her nephew's face. “I mean you get one.”
“Yes!” Harry jumped up and down several times with happiness. He yanked off the smock he was wearing, and tossed it over a chair. Then he ran past her out into the hallway, and almost reached the stairs before she spoke, effectively stopping him in his tracks. “Harry?”
“Yes, Aunt Petunia?”
She motioned to her ears. Harry grabbed his own and tried to twist around to see them. He failed, but still managed to see that they were glowing. “Oh!”
Harry puffed out his cheeks and held his breath. His face turned red, but his ears stopped glowing. “Thank you, Aunt Petunia!” He then ran down the stairs.
Petunia shook her head fondly. That boy would be the death of her.