Chapter Text
Horace Slughorn was enjoying a most comfortable nap in his office when an owl nipped at his fingers. He opened his eyes to look at it grouchily. It hooted expectantly. It was quite an unfamiliar one to Slughorn, and it was carrying a large parcel along with a letter.
Eagerly, he opened the parcel first. Inside were several vials squeezed into a box, filled with different-coloured potions. They appeared liable to break or open at any minute.
He frowned. Who'd sent him all these potions, lacking any knowledge of potion packaging protocols? His first thought was that it was some sort of prank: that lively group of Gryffindor fourth years he taught had trained him to be quite accustomed to some sort of mischief every other minute. But he doubted it was them, somehow. He tore open the envelope to read the letter:
Professor Slughorn,
Enclosed are twenty-one potions of my own experimentation. Some are improvements over existing ones I've read about while others are simply liquids I've created and tried to test, made using the few ingredients I could manage to get my hands on. I have attempted, here, to list their properties:
There was a list explaining the various potions' ingredients, properties and potential uses in amateurish writing. Slughorn pored over it intently. He recognised instantly some of the potions as ones he knew. The experimenter clearly had no idea about their existence. He read ahead, interested by the approaches used by this curious potions researcher.
Several of the other potions were original variations of common brews. Slughorn quite appreciated the genius behind these unusual experiments. A few even seemed completely original brews. He carefully set aside five vials for further testing, then read on:
I am a sixteen year old girl and am completely self taught. I've had no guidance except for a few basic textbooks and have been experimenting with very few ingredients since I was twelve.
Four years ago I wrote directly to Professor Dumbledore trying to plead with him to admit me into Hogwarts for the sake of it. Today, I write again, with proof of my work, not to beg, as I did when I was younger, but to display my skill and state with some dignity that I believe I'm capable of attending your school.
I have also sent photographs, papers and leaf samples of other experiments of mine addressed to the herbology teacher of your school. Plants with new properties, crosses between existing magical and non magical varieties.
Slughorn was surprised. A witch of such extraordinary talent and spunk! Why had Dumbledore denied her admission into Hogwarts? Surely, on the basis of good skill, they could take her in now at least. It was uncommon, but not unheard of, for students to join Hogwarts for their sixth year. Of course, she would have to sit some OWLs first. Perhaps, if she possessed no formal wizarding education at all, she would need to be admitted into fifth year first.
He was about to start writing back, promising her it could be done and he would speak to Dumbledore, but then the last part of the letter caught his eye:
I must mention, I'm not a witch. I'm what your kind call a 'Muggle'. My whole family are Muggles too. Except for my little sister. She's your student. Her name's Lily. I would be very grateful if you could get me into Hogwarts. It wouldn't be for nothing. I assure you, someday I'll become somebody, whether Muggle or magical, and I do speak the language of favours well. From what I've heard, so do you.
Yours Sincerely,
Petunia Evans
*****
"Most intriguing," Dumbledore remarked, a twinkle in his eye as he pored over the contents of the letter. "A remarkably clever girl. And not just in terms of magical aptitude..."
Slughorn was shaking his head, snorting, "Who'd have thought a muggle could brew? I'd half a mind the letter was a joke, but then she went and said she's that Lily Evans's sister! I've never had a more interesting fourth year. I think I might believe anything of someone of her blood. Tell me, did this Muggle girl really write to you at twelve, requesting admission here?"
"Indeed she did," Dumbledore confirmed. "I remember it well. I must say, although it was the natural course of action, I was rather disappointed to turn her down."
"Do you mean to say you intend to take her in now?" Minerva McGonagall asked him, cautiously although she was most fascinated. "It's downright preposterous, but it'd hardly be the first questionable or odd decision you've made with regard to student admission, and the last few seem to be turning out rather well, I'd say."
Dumbledore nodded. "If she manages, it'll set just the example we need in these dark times to prove to our students how small, after all, the differences between our kinds truly are. A Muggle, studying at Hogwarts! Imagine, Minerva! Could there be a better ideal of wizarding-muggle unity?"
"I'm thinking," she replied, "of the revolutionary impact it would have in terms of educational provisions for squibs who wish to pursue a magical education."
"Brilliant point, Minerva! I believe this is an experiment worth carrying out. What say, Horace?"
Slughorn thought of the prospect of having both of the prodigious Evans sisters in his Slug Club. Perhaps the elder, at least, he would have in his House. Certainly, she seemed to display some excellent Slytherin qualities. The idea tempted him enough to look past his prejudices. "Why not?"
But here Minerva interrupted them to voice her most pressing concern; which both, what with Dumbledore's impersonal nature and Slughorn's selfishness, had easily overlooked.
"Forgive me, Albus, but as you said," she put in, "these are very dark times. Muggles are in enough danger as it is. I can point out an unfortunately growing handful of students who are already poised to join the Death Eaters right after they graduate Hogwarts. I shudder to think of what they'd do if a muggle got into Hogwarts."
"No student shall come to any harm at Hogwarts as long as I remain headmaster," Dumbledore replied swiftly.
Minerva bit her tongue. Of course Dumbledore believed that, and tried his best to ensure it, but really, how safe was the castle? They had not yet managed to even develop any defenses against the Marauders' pranks, and those were the most harmless of their worries. But she did not argue with him further on the point.
Professor Sprout, who had been listening to all this while examining the records of Petunia's herbology experiments, put in here, weakly, "What about the school board?"
Dumbledore nodded. "They'd never allow it," he agreed. "But there's a rule, as old as Hogwarts, that a student who achieves seven or more OWLs cannot legally be prohibited from continuing at Hogwarts for his or her NEWTs unless he or she commits a serious offence."
"Seven! How in Merlin is a Muggle to do that?"
"She has proven her proficiency in Potions and Herbology. Add Muggle Studies to the mix and she'll have three OWLs, the minimum required for a regular Hogwarts student, although it won't be enough in her case. I daresay there's nothing stopping a Muggle from studying Astronomy or History of Magic. That, then, ensures five. As for the sixth and seventh, she may choose between Study of Ancient Runes, Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures."
"But how, exactly, do you propose to get her to sit these OWLs in the first place? She will require to attend for at minimum a year, at the very least her fifth year, at Hogwarts. And without the permission of the school board...?"
Dumbledore considered. His eyes shifted focus around the room, casually falling at length on a piece of paper on a desk.
A leaving certificate, for a fourth year girl who was moving to Beauxbatons.
"Ramona Meldrew," he mumbled, reading the name on the paper. Turning to Minerva, he abruptly asked, tapping on the paper, "What do you know about this girl?"
Taken aback by the sudden apparent change of subject, but nonetheless used to his eccentricity, she slowly replied, "You'd be better off asking Filius. She's a Ravenclaw, and certainly not very popular. All I know about her is she's a Muggle born, usually sits at the back of the class, and doesn't seem to have a lot of friends. In fact, come to think of it, I've never seen her speaking to anyone. She's a bit of a loner. I doubt anyone knows much about her."
"Perfect," Dumbledore muttered, under his breath. "Fetch the girl here, Minerva, will you? I would like a word with her. Pomona, Horace, you are free to leave."
Surprised, they nodded and left the room, Minerva returning in a while with the fourth year.
Ramona was a dark-haired, brown-eyed girl of average looks, height and magical ability. Her parents were relatively wealthy Muggles, part of a semi-legal business no one really knew the details of. They kept to themselves, and their daughter was quite as secretive as they. She didn't have a single friend at Hogwarts, and so was set to quit her place for a paid seat at Beauxbatons. None of the Hogwarts students really knew her or would have cared anyway.
Every detail of this which she revealed to him presently, in the course of their conversation, suited Dumbledore's rapidly forming plan excellently. Putting it into action was no difficult matter. Albus Dumbledore was a brilliantly persuasive man.
Minerva was waiting outside his office when Ramona walked out, looking puzzled but satisfied. She had not thought to be on the lookout for any striking difference in the girl's appearance, but soon her mouth dropped open and she stormed into the office.
She was certain the girl had not had a pixie cut when she had entered the room.
"Albus," she cried, "what on earth have you done to the girl's hair?"
"Why, only offered a good deal for it," he replied, his eyes twinkling as always.
"But why in the name of Merlin-" She stopped mid-question as understanding slowly dawned on her, and she stared at him incredulously. "Albus, you- you don't really mean to-?"
"Oh yes, I do."
*****
"Pet, go get the door, will you?"
"Yes, Mum." Petunia ran to the doorstep.
An old man with a long, white beard, a long nose and half moon spectacles was standing there. "Good evening, Miss Evans."
Petunia stared at him. She knew, from his odd appearance and the sheer magical aura that seemed to emanate from him, that he was by no means one of 'her' kind. She only waited in awe for a minute and then asked at length, "Are you Professor Slughorn?"
He laughed. "No, Miss Evans. I am Albus Dumbledore. You recall having once written to me, I'm sure?"
Petunia trembled with anticipation. "Yes, sir."
"You may call me Professor Dumbledore."
"Then am I really to be your student?" Petunia got straight to the point.
"Only if you consent to the rather complicated conditions I would have to put into place to secure your admission."
Thrilled, Petunia nodded. "Anything," she breathed, although she mentally berated herself for letting herself appear so desperate.
Dumbledore smiled at her eagerness. "It will not be so easy, Miss Evans- may I call you Petunia? Yes then, Petunia, I am afraid, the first thing you will need to do is... drop your name."
"My- my name?"
"And your identity."
Petunia glared at him.
"It will only be for a year. You will need to consume, at regular intervals, a potion that will enable you to take the physical form of another person-"
"Polyjuice potion," supplied a disgruntled Petunia, from a shady-looking book scavenged from Diagon Alley whose contents she'd learnt by heart. "Powdered horn of bicorn, lacewing flies-"
"Certainly an excellent demonstration of knowledge to display your aptitude for the daunting task ahead of you, should you choose to agree to undertake the challenge, but you need not worry yourself about its ingredients at present. You will, I assure you, be granted a constant supply, prepared by our Professor Slughorn."
"But why must I attend Hogwarts as-"
"Ramona," Dumbledore filled in. "Ramona Meldrew."
"Right. Why do I have to attend Hogwarts as this Ramona then? Why are my only choices being an impostor or a nobody?" There was a despairing plea in her voice.
She folded her arms and kicked a loose tile on the floor behind her.
"I'm afraid, legally, you cannot attend Hogwarts at all," Dumbledore sighed.
Petunia raised an eyebrow. "So this whole... arrangement is illegal, then?"
"Is long-term impersonation of someone in a recognised institution legal in your world, Petunia? Our worlds are not so different when it comes to the law."
"You're... You're the headmaster of a huge wizarding school for the whole of Britain. Are you telling me you're actually suggesting I break the law?"
"Only to combat a long-standing prejudice, become the first non-magical girl to pass OWLs, prove to the wizarding world that Muggles can brew, rightfully secure your seat at Hogwarts for your NEWTs and then enjoy with dignity and respect two subsequent years at Hogwarts as yourself, to gain your wizarding qualifications."
Petunia shook her head slightly. "You've got to give me some time to think about it. And you'll have to speak to my parents. Mum! Dad! Come here, quick! There's something important to be discussed with you!"
"Pet, dear, can't it wait for a while? We're both busy- we're writing a letter to your sister," came a voice from a distant room.
Dumbledore watched with some amusement as the expression on Petunia's face changed from hesitation to a grim, murderous determination.
"So. Is that all, or is there anything more I've got to do for my Hogwarts seat?"
*****
"Let me get this straight," Mr Evans said, his mouth wide open, "Our Petunia is being accepted into your school to join Lily, in spite of no natural magical ability, on account of entirely self-developed potioneering and botanical aptitude?"
"Indeed. And at present, the nature of this admission makes it most secretive; it is an experiment of sorts. Her identity will not be widely known-"
"-And you're not allowed to tell Lily either," Petunia finished, a warning note in her voice, knowing perfectly well Dumbledore didn't intend to enforce this rule.
"What?! Not tell-" "It's highly classified, Dad!"
Dumbledore caught on immediately. "Indeed, Mr and Mrs Evans, I believe it is best if your younger daughter is not included in this arrangement for now. I daresay, once things begin to fall in place, Petunia herself may make the revelation to her."
Petunia sighed in relief. There was nothing she would have liked better at the moment than to finally get a chance to gloat over her sister for once, but she was terrified at the idea of ending up being a dunce at Hogwarts, or worse, being kicked out, in front of Lily. It would be much safer if Lily didn't know she was going to be there. She gave Dumbledore a quick nod in thank you.
"This is amazing," Mrs Evans studied her daughter's acceptance letter. "Petunia, you'll make a wonderful witch yet! Two witches in the family, just think..."
"I'll have to sit my OWLs first," Petunia mumbled, quite flattered at finally receiving the praise she had craved all her life but also equally anxious.
"But how did you manage to train yourself in secret? Where did you even get ingredients, magical plants, recipes, guidance?"
"I got my hands on Lily's textbooks and ingredients before she left for her first year. I tried to pick up from the books as much as I could, took a few of her ingredients, hid them and tried playing around for the rest of the year. The following years, I sneaked in more and more herbs and seeds and ingredients and things into the list when we went to Diagon Alley, read the books more carefully and began experimenting more methodically. I tried using some of my normal cooking and gardening techniques when I got stuck or wanted to try something new."
She turned pink as she saw both her parents and Dumbledore looking at her greatly impressed.
Turning to Dumbledore again, she continued, her confidence growing again, "I've learnt the set books for potions and herbology from first to fourth year nearly by heart."
He nodded. "But do remember that you will need to pass seven OWLs. It is helpful that you appear to be prepared with two. The third being Muggle Studies should not stump you either. The fourth is Astronomy-"
"Sounds fine. Our school's taught us a bit of that space stuff and there was a club for stargazing at one point."
"And you've got to learn History of Magic."
"Alright..."
"For the remaining two, your choices are between Study of Ancient Runes, Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures."
Petunia paled. "Does that last one involve reptiles?" Then, at his reply in the affirmative, she swallowed and replied with a quick "No thank you."
"Then I will arrange for your textbooks and materials in your chosen subjects to arrive within the week, so you can get started with some introduction and preparation. It is now June. You have three months before your school year begins. Your robes will be provided by the school, as well as a makeshift wand. You will be spared a visit to Diagon Alley."
Petunia nodded. It seemed to hit her all over again somehow that this was really happening. All her scepticism and spunk melted away suddenly to give way for pure, childlike excitement. It had been such a long time since she had last felt like this. Her eyes sparkled like they last had when she and Lily had still been kids playing about together in the village, laughing as Lily turned the prized red roses in their neighbours' garden yellow with a touch, back in the days before Petunia had grown envious of her sister's magic.
Dumbledore stood up and gave them a nod and a smile in farewell before spinning and disappearing from the house on the spot.
As he was leaving, he gave a casual flick of his wand in Petunia's direction and she found herself holding a little nosegay of pretty, sweet-scented flowers. Petunias and white lilies.
The clear, gleeful laugh this gesture brought out of Petunia Evans seemed to ring across the house for all of June, July and August.