(1) Here There Be Dragons

Petunia Dursley was startled by a sudden outcry from her husband.

"Shoo! Shoo, you filthy hideous beast! Out! Shoo! OUT! Dudley, quick, your Smeltings stick!"

Petunia tossed down the towel she had been using to dry her hands at the kitchen sink and hurried into the living room.

Vernon was waving a large cushion at an owl perched on the lampstand by an open window. "Shoo! Shoo, you mangy creature!"

"Here!" shouted Dudley, and swung his stick back, smashing the crystal vase that Aunt Marge had given them for Christmas, and then swung it forward, knocking over the lamp, its bulb exploding.

The owl merely turned its head to stare a moment at the shocked Petunia. Then it dropped the large envelope it had carried in its beak.

"No!" yelled Vernon. "Not our son, no! I'll have none of this nonsense! OUT!"

"Vernon, the neighbours. Keep your voice down."

Petunia wasn't aware that it was the owl's look that calmed her. She only knew that Vernon was hopping mad and that Dudley was scratching his head in confusion.

She watched the owl fly off into the sunset. Then she went over to the ruins of the lampstand and picked up the envelope.

Petunia Dursley
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
England

With trembling hands she turned the envelope over. Yes, there it was, the red wax seal with the stylized H.

What could this possibly mean? At first she was affronted. But in the next moment she was afire with curiosity. While Vernon puffed and spluttered, she tore open the envelope and pulled out a sheet of parchment.

HOGWARTS School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

From the office of the Headmaster.

Dear Mrs Dursley,
Pursuant to our new policy of inviting parents and guardians of our students to visit the school, we cordially offer you the opportunity to spend a week or more in our guest lodgings at the castle. You are encouraged to sit in on classes and meet the faculty, to spend quality time with your ward, Mr Potter, and partake of all the amenities and historical particulars of Hogwarts. I apologize for this short notice, but should you decide to favor us with a visit, be informed that transportation will be provided for you and will appear at your residence at nine o'clock this evening.

Sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
Head of School.

Petunia was lost in her conflicting thoughts and paid no mind to Vernon pacing the room in a red-faced huff, nor to Dudley, who was now humming the Smeltings school song and swishing his stick around.

She remembered all too vividly watching the Hogwarts Express chugging off and Lily looking back and waving from a compartment window, her face flushed with excitement and joyous wonder.

She remembered the long suffering drive home, her heart aching with envy. Every letter that Lily sent her burned in her memory. And those summers when Lily politely declined to perform magic because it was against the rules. And those wonderfully bizarre textbooks, and the moving photos of Quidditch!

Petunia nearly wept. All the terrible regret and the periods of raging jealousy welled up in her again. She was on the verge of tearing the parchment to pieces. But then a strange feeling of triumph came over her. She COULD go to Hogwarts. She COULD see the things that Lily had seen, and speak to the teachers Lily had known. She could.

And she WOULD.

She turned the parchment over. Here was something about a 'Knight Bus' that would take her non-stop to the wizarding village of Hogsmeade. She smiled, a rather vindictive smile, remembering Lily telling her about the shops in Hogsmeade, about going there on weekends, as it was just a short ways from the castle.

The castle...

Could she... would she... be able to fly around on a broom? Oh how Lily would talk about flying broomsticks; how her boyfriend played on the house Quidditch team... Yes, that James Potter fellow.

Petunia flinched. She would have to see Harry. She would be expected to spend time with him. Was it worth it?

Then again she saw Lily waving goodbye as the train blew its steam whistle.

Petunia turned to Vernon. He was gawking at her as if he had read her mind.

"I'm going to Harry's school for a week's visit," she announced stiffly. "And I've three hours to get ready."

Four hours later Petunia staggered off the Knight Bus, never so glad to get away from a bus in all her life. Just as she stepped onto the sidewalk with her suitcase, a loud BANG drew a scream from her and the bus vanished in a puff of dust.

She stared at the odd buildings with their pointy shingled roofs and crooked chimneys, the carts and wagons, the frock-coated men and be-caped women, talking and laughing in the flickering light of street lamps.

'Horrid, nasty little place,' she thought, and turned to the broad path that led to a narrow wooden bridge.

Beyond it, above a sloping lawn, stood the most magnificent castle, bathed in moonlight. Petunia stood panting with a mix of fear and astonishment.

Hogwarts! She was here, here, at Lily's magic school! She could hardly believe it.

Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she started up the flower-bordered path that brought her to the school gates flanked by sculptured winged boars on stone columns. The iron gates stood open.

An ogre stepped out from under a tree, with a spear and clipboard.

"NAME, PLEASE."

Petunia jumped a foot in the air, dropping her suitcase and shaking all over.

"P-P-P-P-P--"

The ogre frowned, and looked at his clipboard. "I don't see no P P P on the list... No, wait. Is it Dursley Petunia?"

She nodded vigorously.

"Alright, then. Go on. Enjoy yer stay."

Petunia picked up her suitcase and hurried up the winding path. Her heart was pounding and she couldn't take her eyes off the huge oaken doors lit by torches that flamed in curious spirals. She thought it might just be her imagination, but the stone and the brass and the wood seemed somehow to be watching her.

For a minute she stood shivering on the vast porch, her hand hovering indecisively over the bronze ring- knocker.

The leftside door suddenly opened with a deep bellowing creak that had Petunia gasping, afraid of what monstrous thing she might see glaring out at her.

But it was just the custodian.

"Ah yes, you be the Dursley woman?"

Petunia summoned her courage.

"Yes, I am." And she thought it might help to add, "the guardian of Harry Potter."

Filch scowled. "You don't say. Well, come in, come in, so's I can bolt the door shut."

Awed beyond words, Petunia stepped into the cavernous Entrance Hall.

"Why, lookee that," said Filch. His cat was rubbing its flanks on Petunia's ankle and purring contentedly.

Filch beamed. "She likes you, she does," he said. His attitude changed completely. "That be Mrs Norris. Here, let me take your baggage. You just follow me upstairs to the guest rooms. We have a nice cozy chamber all ready for you."

"Thank you, Mister--?"

"Filch, ma'am. Argus Filch, at your devoted service. This way, now."

As she followed Filch and his cat, Petunia stared wide-eyed at the broad doorway to the Great Hall, at the oil portraits of old worthies that graced the high stone-block walls. A most thrilling sensation came over her. Magic! Magic everywhere! And to think, Lily had been here, for seven extraordinary years! That lucky girl, oh that lucky girl!

She paused a moment to admire the marble staircase. How beautiful it was, a gothic sort of beauty. Eagerly, but not without a rather intriguing sense of foreboding, she followed her guide up the steps to the elegant corridor above.

Giselle blew out her breath at sight of her homework. Piles of it, and it was only the third day since her fourth year at Hogwarts began.

She crossed her arms on her Charms textbook and looked around at the other students studying and writing at their house tables in the Great Hall.

It was nearing curfew, when they would retire to their Common Rooms for a bit of socializing before lights-out.

Giselle tapped the table with her quill. Her third night at the school and she wasn't yet in the  mode of the studious scholar. Summer recess was still fresh in her mind. Those two weeks at the Burrows, rooming with Ginny and flirting with Charlie, who was on vacation.

What a fantastic time she had with the Weasleys, topped off with the Quidditch World Cup. Oh, it had been pretty scary when the Death Eaters came around. But having Harry and Hermione there was a great comfort.

She saw that Hermione, at the Gryffindor table, was just as burdened with homework as practically everyone else. And smiling as if she couldn't be happier!

"Let's call it a day, Gee," said Lori, stretching her arms and rolling her head around. "If I don't have the bouncing potion recipe memorized by now, I just never will."

"Let's," agreed Giselle.

They went with Harry, Ron, and Hermione out into the Entrance Hall, and were about to go down the basement steps when a terrified scream echoed down from above the marble staircase.

They all looked up, their mouths hanging open, and saw an unfamiliar woman in a muggle dress running past the top of the stairs. Nearly-Headless Nick drifted serenely after her, calling out in his gentlemanly voice, "Madame, a moment of your time, I pray thee."

"No, it can't be," said a bewildered Harry. "It can't possibly be my Aunt Petunia. Someone who looks a lot like her, but... not HER. CAN'T be her!"

Now they were all running up the stairs behind Harry, who was obviously quite determined to solve the mystery. Giselle couldn't help laughing. She knew about the insufferable Dursleys, and was just as skeptical about his aunt being here as Harry was.

They turned down the second floor corridor where a group of Slytherin boys were howling with amusement, bent double and slapping their knees.

Giselle skidded around the corner after Harry and the others, giggling with excitement. Cedric and Cho were standing with their backs against the wall between tall dark windows, holding hands and grinning at the commotion.

And there up ahead was the Mystery Woman. Professor Mad-Eye Moody was touching her shoulder with his wand. "Quietus," he intoned in his gruff voice. The woman stood perfectly still and silent.

Professor Snape was just beyond them, saying sternly to Nick, "You know the rules, Sir Nicholas, no deliberate frightening of students or guests."

"A thousand pardons," said the ghost, bowing down with a flourish of his plumed hat.

His head swung loosely on the thinnest possible fiber of muscle.

A stifled scream from the woman had Moody tapping her shoulder again.

"Quietus MAXIMUS!"

The woman froze.

"Very good, Moody," Snape said. "I shall escort her to the Headmaster."

As Moody went klunk, klunk, klunking off, Harry went up to Snape, his eyes riveted on the woman, and said, "Professor, sir, this is my aunt! She's a muggle, sir. I don't understand--"

Snape interrupted him. "Enough, Potter. If the Headmaster wishes to explain the circumstances to you, I'm sure he will summon you. It is nearly curfew. Proceed to your dorm house."

And with that, the spellbound Petunia Dursley followed Snape down the corridor to a curving upward staircase.

"Blimey, Harry," said Ron, "why do you suppose your aunt's here?"

"Well, obviously," said a flustered Hermione, "we can't know unless Dumbledore tells Harry. We can ask Professor McGonagall, though, when she comes to the Common Room tonight to talk about the choosing of the Hogwarts champion, you know, for the Tri-Wizard Tournament."

"You're looking at the Hogwarts champions right here," said Fred and George, pointing at themselves as they strolled by.

"Yeah, right," said Ron.

Giselle felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned and there was Bea with an armful of botanical books from the library. "Gee, you'll never guess who I saw in the Hall by the dungeon entrance!"

Giselle was in a laughing mood. "Oh it must've been Dudley Dursley!"

Bea looked puzzled. "Who--?"

"Never mind. Who was it?"

"Charlie Weasley!"

Ron brushed by Giselle and went trotting back down the corridor, calling back to Harry. "Charlie's here!"

"That's wonderful, Ron," said Hermione, "but it's ten o'clock. We're to be in our dorms." But neither she nor Harry acted the least worried about that. They hurried after Ron.

Giselle was still in a daze.