Throughout the course of her first eleven years, some very odd things happened to Dandelion Dursley. Lights often had an odd tendency to flicker on and off when she entered a room, and she always knew who was at the door before she answered it. When she was a baby, containers of green pea baby food (her least favorite kind) often exploded right in her grandfather’s hands when he was trying to feed her. She even once was convinced she saw a fairy in the garden, but her Grandpa Dudley told her to imagining things and being silly. He’d never sounded more like Great-Grandpa Vernon than he did then.
Besides that, she had a fairly normal childhood. Most of the time, she was perfectly happy with her life in a little white house in Surrey with her mother and Grandpa Dudley. Sometimes she wondered who her father was, and what he was like. She tried not to think about him, though, once she was old enough to realize that he’d abandoned her because it made Dandelion angry. Generally, strange, scary things like flickering lights and exploding jars seemed to happen more when she was angry.
One hot, sticky afternoon in July, Dandelion was lying on her bed. Besides being miserably hot, she was also bored. These were the kinds of days she wished she had siblings to play with. Her mother and grandfather wouldn’t be home from work to amuse her for hours yet. School had been out for nearly a month, and she’d exhausted all the amusing things to do at her house and in its immediate vicinity. She’d played all the video games she owned and watched more TV than she wanted to. Her two best friends, Sarah and Alice, where both away on trips, and she didn’t even miss them that much. Over the past year, Dandelion and her friends had grown apart. Alice and Sarah had become much more interested in boys and makeup, and Dandelion had stayed much the same as ever.
She heard the distinctive clink of mail being pushed through the mail slot. Usually, she’d ignore it, leaving her grandfather to pick it up when he got home. Today felt different. Something inside of her was telling her that the mail was important and she should go and collect it. She pulled herself up off the bed and headed downstairs.
Among the usual pile of bills and promotional junk sat an unusual-looking envelope. It looked like it was made of parchment, and there were no stamps visible on it. She stooped down to pick it up. To her surprise, it said:
Miss Dandelion Dursley
The Yellow Bedroom
Number 7 Crystal Street
Hevenston
Surrey
Maybe it was from her father! She quickly banished that thought as she ripped open the envelope. It contained two pieces of paper, both made out of the same material as the envelope. As she read the letter on top, her spirits sank. She never got mail, and the one time she did, it was a prank. How old did Jimmy Smith next door think she was? Six? She’d stopped believing in magic years ago.
~*~
Nothing too remarkable happened for the rest of the day. As usual, Grandpa Dudley arrived home at 5:15 sharp from his job at Grunnings. They had a casserole that Dandelion’s mother had prepared for them over the weekend, and then retired to the family room to watch TV. Dandelion went to bed at 9.00 pm as her grandfather insisted, and heard her mother get home at 9:30.
Because of the unbearable heat, Dandelion was still awake at 10:15 when she heard voices from the living room. Her mother had stopped in at 10.00 to kiss her goodnight before she went to bed, so she knew it couldn’t be her mother talking. Besides, both voices sounded male.
Dandelion slipped out of bed, tiptoed down the hall, and crouched on the stair second to the top. From there, she had a good view of the living room. The scene in there was surprising, to say the least. Her very normal, very sane grandfather was talking to the fireplace!
“No,” said Grandpa Dudley to the fireplace, “She didn’t mention getting any mail from Hogwarts.”
“Are you sure? It should have come today. The ones for James, Al, and Lily did.” The voice was coming from the fireplace! Was Dandelion going crazy also?
“I’m sure,” replied Grandpa Dudley.
“Did you specifically ask her?” inquired the voice from the fireplace. At this point, Dandelion was sure she was going crazy, because not only was the voice coming from the fireplace, but she was also pretty certain she could discern a suspended head from which it was issued.
“No,” admitted Grandpa Dudley.
“Ask her, then,” said the voice. “I could be wrong, too, you know. They sent me a letter before someone from Hogwarts came, but I wasn’t technically Muggle-born like Dandelion. They might just send a professor without going to the trouble of sending a letter that would most likely be ignored.”
“Maybe we’re wrong. Maybe she’s not a witch after all.” Did Dandelion detect a hint of hope in her grandfather’s voice?
“She’s definitely a witch,” said the voice.
“Will she need a broom to fly on or a magic wand?” asked Dudley. “Surrey’s a respectable place. That sort of stuff isn’t sold here.”
The voice sighed. “We’ve been through this before, Dudley. The supply list will come with the letter. She needs a wand, but a broom isn’t allowed for first years. She can get all that stuff in Diagon Alley, in London. If you want, I’d be more than happy to take her. I’m taking my kids and some of their cousins shopping with my sister-in-law, Hermione, next week. If you want, I can bring Dandelion along, too.”
“I’ll just wait and see if she gets the letter, first,” said Grandpa Dudley. “I know you think she’s a witch, Harry, but I’m still hoping.”
“Well, I’ll Floo again in three nights,” said the voice. “You should have gotten something from Hogwarts by then.”
With that, there was a small pop and the outline of the head disappeared from the fireplace. Grandpa Dudley turned around and began to head for the stairs, so Dandelion scampered back to bed.
~*~
The next morning, Dandelion awoke with a start. The sound of the doorbell had awoken her. She lay in bed for a minute, debating whether she should get the door or leave it to her grandfather, and thinking about the odd dream she’d had last night. Her grandpa talking to a fireplace? How odd!
Suddenly, she felt strange feeling in her stomach, not unlike how she’d felt when the mail came the day before. Somehow, she just knew that the visitor at the door was important. She ran downstairs to answer the door, but her grandfather had already answered it and their guest was standing in the front hall.
She was an odd, plain-looking woman who seemed to have little knowledge, or at least concern, for fashion. She wore tight, bright yellow pants that seemed to have come straight out of the seventies, a blazer and blouse worth of a corporate executive, and worn out trainers. Her hair was mainly gray with hints of both brown and white, which appeared to be in the style of a perm, but long neglected. One tuft stuck out at a perfect forty-five degree angle from her head.
“Ah, Dandelion!” called Grandpa Dudley. “I see you’re up. Perfect timing! Come and meet our visitor!”
Apprehensively, Dandelion went down the stairs. She went up to the woman, and they shook hands. Up close, it appeared the woman’s lack of interest in her appearances also extended to her hygiene. Her fingernails were caked with dirt, and something that smelled an awful lot like dung was on the edge of her face.
“Dandelion,” said Grandpa Dudley, “this is Professor Sprout. Professor Sprout, this is my granddaughter, Dandelion, who I believe you’ve come to see.”
They were shepherded to the living room by Grandpa Dudley. Nervously, Dandelion perched on the edge of the sofa next to her grandfather, but Professor Sprout seemed to share none of her anxiety or manners. She threw herself heartily onto the reclining chair and leaned back.
“Well, as I said before, I’m Professor Sprout,” the woman began. “I’m the Deputy Headmistress at a school up north. We take some, er, unusual students, let me say.”
To Dandelion, “unusual students” sounded like a polite way of saying “problem kids.” This offended her, as she got good grades in school and never got in trouble.
“There’s nothing abnormal about my granddaughter!” barked Grandpa Dudley. Dandelion was glad that he’d come to her defense.
“I said ‘unusual,’” replied the woman. “Our students have unique abilities that other schools are unprepared to cultivate. You see, Hogwarts “ the school I’m from “ is a school of witchcraft and wizardry.”
Hogwarts? Wasn’t that where Dandelion’s letter was from yesterday? This woman was obviously lying “ but who would put on such an elaborate hoax? It involved way too much effort and planning to be the work of Jimmy Smith.
Perhaps this woman was crazy. That was an explanation that Dandelion could settle for. Certainly no sane person could put together such an outfit! This “Professor Sprout” probably believed every word she was saying, but that didn’t mean that it was actually true. She probably was from a mental hospital and escaped without her medicine.
“If the letter came yesterday, I never got it,” said Grandpa Dudley, interrupting his granddaughter’s thoughts.
“I have an extra,” Professor Sprout replied as she handed an envelope to him.
“Thank you,” said Grandpa Dudley. “Have a nice day.”
“But you’ll need to know how to get the “ “ Professor Sprout began.
“I already have that arranged,” Grandpa Dudley responded.
Dandelion was flabbergasted. How could Grandpa Dudley actually believe what this woman was saying? He was a rational person with little imagination. How could he be taken so easily?
Eyes Wide Open by sorrow_of_severus
Chapter Notes: Guess what? I'm still not J.K. Rowling! She owns almost everything in this story. Life just isn't fair! Well, at least Dandelion belongs to me.
Chapter Endnotes: Thank you to my wonderful beta, Becca (twilightHPgirl18)!