Petunia and the Little Monster

August 1975

Petunia cannot recall when exactly she realised that her parents were fallible.

It must have slowly accumulated and built throughout the years, like an invisible underground current gaining speed and traction, eroding solid structure one drop at a time until everything simply collapsed on itself, silently and inevitably.

If Petunia had to pick one moment where the realisation flared in her face it would have to be this one. Right now, sitting around their dining table, an envelope lying before them and her parents faces just as pale and helpless as her own.

They weren't the invincible figures of her childhood, all knowing and all powerful. They were humans, with faults and fears and worries.

They were muggles, just as powerless to do anything about this situation as Petunia herself.

Because this was a letter that didn't belong to their world of scrubbing dishes and working themselves raw, it wasn't a letter that fit with the lace stitched onto the kitchen curtains or the telly blaring sport's news in the background.

It fit with owls and wands and a whole government of wizards, making rules without anyone the wiser and relying on a secret, magical prison to keep people in line.

From the Ministry of Magic, it read on the cream-coloured envelope, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Gethsemane Prickle, Per Bubonem.

And beneath that Petunia's name and address, glaring from the paper in clear, decisive lines of fine script.

And no one had dared open it yet. Not her father, usually boisterous and stoutly defensive of everything he connected with idioms such as 'bravery' or 'courage', not her mother who was always unconcerned when it came to her eldest daughter, not one to shy away from Petunia's flaws.

So in the end it was Petunia herself, with fingers that felt more like bone than skin, who carefully ripped it open and unfolded the missive inside.

Dear Ms Petunia Evans,

We have received intelligence that you illegally obtained a beast with the classification of XXXX without Ministry consent.

The severity of this breach of the Decree for Reasonable Regulation for Dangerous Creatures has resulted in a charge of Illegal Possession of Dangerous Creatures. Ministry specialists will be responsible for collecting the beast.

As this is a breach of not only the above but also Clause 73 of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy considering your status as a Muggle, we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 2 p.m. on the twelfth of August. In lieu of your special circumstances, Ministry representatives will be responsible for your pickup.

Hoping you are well,

Gethsemane Prickle

Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures

Petunia's head was too light. She read the words, but it was almost as if she couldn't comprehend them, as if they were written in a foreign language she could maybe pronounce for the shared alphabet but not understand in any way that mattered.

"What creature? What does this mean?"

Petunia blinked and glanced at her mother, stunned at the question. Did she really have to ask? Of course it could only be one being, the one that was at her side since she was twelve, the one that had changed her life ever since she first laid eyes on him.

Aspen.

And the fine membrane protecting her mind from fully digesting the information inside the letter burst with that one thought, allowing an avalanche of fear and panic to suffocate any rationality Petunia might have left.