Petunia and the Little Monster

February 1976 (5)

Remus Lupin ... It took a few seconds for Petunia to place the familiar name – light, brown hair, sickly complexion, silvery scars – and then a few more moments for the implications behind Severus' taunt to sink in.

"You're serious."

"Of course I am." Disdain was written so plainly across his features that he might as well have etched the word onto his forehead. "It's quite obvious, once you think about it. I just need to prove it."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you need to prove it?"

"Because he's dangerous."

"He hasn't harmed anyone."

"Yet."

Petunia frowned. Severus was many things, but certainly not altruistic. Which could only mean that his fervour to label Remus Lupin a werewolf was fueled by something else, something shady and more small-minded, something like revenge – or jealousy.

"Does he have something going on with Lily?"

The wretched boy scoffed. "And you dare call me obsessed."

Who else was Severus focused on ... Petunia remembered the first and only time he had approached her since she had been at Hogwarts, his face drawn and flickering with too many repressed expressions for her to fully decipher them, but motivated to pester her because of one person.

"Potter?"

Severus froze.

"That's it, then. He's what, Potter's friend maybe, and you want to hurt him because of it?"

"He's a dangerous Dark creature that could rip you open from throat to hip if the mood took him," he hissed, his sibilant anger only letting Petunia know that she had hit the nail right on the head.

"He seemed quite normal to me. A bit flighty, but certainly not murderous."

"He – you talked to him? When?"

"On the train ride. And once while talking Fluffy for a walk." Petunia paused. Now that she thought about it, there had been something strange about him. Not only did Fluffy react to him with previously undisplayed eagerness but he also ... "Seems to hate werewolves."

"You talked about werewolves?"

"He called them evil, bloodthirsty beasts."

Severus looked smug. "Self-aware, isn't he."

"Why are you so sure he is one?"

"It's obvious," he repeated, immediately frustrated again. "Anyone with half a brain cell could come to the conclusion, him and his little friends are certainly not as stealthy as they believe, but no-one pays any attention!"

"Stealthy?"

"Once a month, on the night of the full moon, he creeps from the castle and disappears by the Whomping Willow. And the next few days he's usually too sick to attend class and no-one sees him around. And Potter and his little lackeys are the only ones swearing up and down that he only has a cold or Vanishing sickness, and sometimes they even sneak out after him, I've seen them!"

The Whomping Willow – that's where Petunia had encountered him the second time, sweating and twitchy and certainly looking sick. But ... a werewolf?

"What does the book say?"

"What book?"

"The one you haven't returned yet, the librarian was a bit cross."

Severus already opened his mouth to answer before his eyes narrowed on Petunia, studying her face like it was a map to hidden treasure. "Why do you care?"

"Pardon?"

"Why do you care about Lupin and the book and werewolves all of a sudden?"

I want to learn more about them, Petunia thought. I want a chance to interact with them and ask why they are being shunned and banished to the forest, and now you're telling me that there might be one right here in the castle ...

"I'm curious."

"Curious," he repeated, drawing the word out.

"Yes." Petunia frowned. "What's it to you?"

"You're curious about werewolves and I need someone to help me prove that Lupin is one."

She didn't like what he was indirectly asking and she liked the expression on his face even less. Something satisfied but at the same time sinister – all that was missing was that he rubbed his hands and gave an evil laugh to complete the picture.

"Why do you need to prove it?"

"Well, I think everyone deserves to know, don't you? Their lives are endangered simply by attending class and no-one thought to inform them. Surely it won't reflect well on the Headmaster. Can you imagine the fall-out of keeping such a thing a secret?"

The Headmaster ... Dumbledore. Dumbledore, who had given Petunia, a muggle, the opportunity to come here. Dumbledore who had allowed Aspen to integrate into the Hogwarts herd.

Dumbledore, who was recruiting students and dragging Lily into the war.

"Give me the book and I'll think about it."

Severus considered her for a few long seconds. "I'll get it to you. But don't even think about coming here again."

Petunia rolled her eyes and turned away, not wasting any time on some kind of insincere farewell. Her head was already humming with all her different thoughts, none of them standing out clear enough to give her something to hold onto as she made her way up the stairs, leaving the cool dungeon air and the wretched boy down in the echoing darkness. 

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