Petunia and the Little Monster

February 1976 (3)

"Hagrid, exactly how big is Fluffy supposed to grow?"

"Ah, 'm not sure meself, never had a cerberus 'fore."

Petunia glanced at the six ears flopping in the cool breeze and four gigantic paws leaving imprints in the soft snow and had a bad hunch. Maybe she could find another book about creatures in the Hogwarts library which would have a chapter about Fluffy – she had grown used to studying creatures before interacting with them and right now she felt like she was in a dark room, stumbling around and trying to find her way through the sharp edges her fingers encountered.

Music worked well to calm him and sometimes Fluffy actually listened when Petunia called his name. But there were still some issues, namely that Fluffy energetically tried to eat every student that crossed his path and if those efforts were foiled he contented himself with chewing up furniture and other immobile things that couldn't flee his wrath. Hagrid had been a victim himself a few times, but just chuckled and allowed all three heads to chew at him as if he were a dog toy.

"Nice teethers he got," he'd say and Petunia would stand at the side, not knowing how to explain that she was trying to get Fluffy to stop greeting everyone with those same teethers, not encourage it.

At the moment Hagrid was leading Fang, who usually didn't require a leash except when Fluffy was part of their walks and the timid dog would clearly prefer to be invisible or very far away.

"If he gets too big, jus' let 'im loose in the forest. He'll make friends."

"He'll eat the forest, you mean."

Hagrid gave a booming laugh as if Petunia had been joking.

"There's lots in there tha' can take 'im on. Centaurs, werewolves, Aragogg ..."

Petunia missed a step, her eyes growing wide. "Werewolves? Centaurs? Here, in Hogwarts?"

"In the forest," Hagrid clarified.

"I didn't know they went to ..." Petunia stopped once Hagrid's words filtered through her shock.

Not Hogwarts, but the forest.

"Mentioned it before, didn't realise yeh were int'rested in 'em. Can be a bit tricky ter talk with 'em. Quite touchy on some subjects, yeh get me meaning."

Petunia thought about the last person she had talked about centaurs and werewolves with, the taste of ice cream on her lips and a flowering branch tucked behind her ear. "Did you ever bring them cheesecake?"

"What?"

Petunia smiled. "Nothing. How did you like the magazine I gave you?"

Hagrid humphed. "Never seen anything like it. Chimney-service from giants? Whole lot o' bullocks."

"But interesting, right?"

"Yeah, yeh could call it tha'. Really would like ter know who came up with tha' stuff."

"He actually has quite a few fans in the castle."

Hagrid only laughed and Petunia recalled his words from before. "So you do talk to them? The centaurs and the werewolves?"

"If I have to. Never try an' get a straight answer out of a centaur. Ruddy stargazers. Not interested in anythin' closer'n the moon."

"And the wolves?"

"Elusive bunch, impossible ter sniff out. They keep ter themselves."

"I don't understand why they have to." The words had slipped out before Petunia could think them through. "They're only dangerous for part of the month, right? Why do they have to stay away all the time?"

Hagrid huffed. "It's the way they wan' it. No-one ter bother 'em."

Petunia sensed that he wasn't interested in continuing on that topic and let the matter rest. But later as she struggled to wipe the dirt and slush from Fluffy's paws before entering her room, her mind flitted back to his words. And then they trailed further, leading her to big pale eyes and nonsensical words. Without really knowing what she intended to write, she sat down at her small desk and grabbed a piece of parchment.

Dear Xenophilius,

I hope this letter finds you well. I know it is unprecedented and I apologise if it startles you.

First let me say that I'm truly enjoying the Quibbler and the many topics you're unafraid to tackle, though I'm no longer the only one. I have made a few acquaintances among the Hogwarts staff and they are always eager to borrow my newest edition.

Maybe that would also lend itself to an interesting article. Are there any free house elves? The ones I talk to take pride in their service but I sometimes wonder what they would choose to do with their incredible magic if they had a choice.

Similar to that matter, have you ever talked to any werewolves or centaurs? I only found out today that they call the Forbidden Forest their home. Somehow mind-boggling to think about how close they are yet how separated they are from the rest of the school.

Petunia paused, the ink slowly drying before her eyes. What else did she want to say? Why had she even started writing? Before the courage could desert her she quickly scribbled a farwell and her name, before looking for an envelope. Thanks to regular Quibbler deliveries she'd find an opportunity to send the letter back with Xenophilius' owl.

In the past, she wouldn't have dared to do this, simply write a letter when there was no pressing need to or no previous correspondence. And definitely not to something as inconsequential and fleeting as a whim. But this time she didn't feel that boiling heat of self-conciousness that peeled her courage and flesh before she dared to do anything.

At the end of the day it was just a letter. She'd treat it as a way to fight boredom, as a small gesture that wouldn't matter if it went unanswered.

And it was something to keep her thoughts away from Lily and the wretched boy and the fact that she hadn't talked to either of them since the topic of the Order had come up.

❀