Draco couldn't understand how Dumbledore could act so emotionally and not even be ashamed of himself. His father had always taught him that the only emotion befitting a gentleman was a slight peevishness, best expressed with a raised eyebrow and a devastating yet witty remark. He'd never seen an adult lose control of himself the way Dumbledore was doing at the moment. It made him think rather less of the man, which he wouldn't have thought possible.

After Dumbledore finally pulled himself together, wiping his eyes with a large silk handkerchief and emitting a rather satisfied sigh, he calmly asked Draco to explain the situation to him. Draco did so, recounting all the events of the past few days to in exacting detail. He prided himself on his powers of observation, and he was proud he finally had the opportunity to show them off, even if Dumbledore was his only audience member. The headmaster listened carefully, nodding often and at times closing his eyes as if in order to visualize the scenes that Draco was describing. When he finally seemed satisfied, Dumbledore rose. "Gather everyone together in the drawing room in 10 minutes," he said. "In the meantime, do you know if there are any Muggle sweets around here?" Draco pointed mutely towards Dudley's room.

15 minutes later, everyone was arranged in the living room. Dumbledore stood in front of the television set (which Dudley had at first tried to peer around him to see, even though it was currently off), and Potter, Mrs. Dursley and her crybaby son sat facing him on the sofa. As a non-member of the family (thank Merlin!), Draco sat apart from the group somewhat, in a straight-backed chair in the corner where he was still sure to hear everything that went on. He was sure he'd get all kinds of tidbits for the Dark Lord in a meeting such as this.

"The matter of Harry's expulsion from Hogwarts is the easiest to solve, so I'll deal with that first," Dumbledore began. "I have once again appealed to my friends at the Wizengamot to allow this matter to be brought before them in a hearing, which is to take place on Thursday, two days from today. Young Mr. Malfoy has informed me that the first use of magic that took place here was his, and he has further informed me that he will be staying here until Friday, so I have prevailed upon him to testify in your behalf, Harry." Potter glanced at Draco in the corner with a shocked expression, which peeved him to no end. Honestly, didn't the Gryffindor realize that Slytherins have a sense of honor too? Since testifying would not hurt Draco in any way and could undoubtedly help Harry, he was obligated to do so, personal feelings aside.

Dumbledore continued. "I have not yet decided whether your testimony in this matter, Mrs. Dursley, would be helpful or would only serve to muddy the waters. I will think on this matter further and let you know my decision on Friday morning."

Dudley had been squirming ever since Dumbledore started talking, and now he could take no more. "Please, Dumbledore," he begged, "don't take my mummy away to Hogwarts with you. I need her here."

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore intoned, "the matter of Mrs. Dursley's Hogwarts letter. Let me first explain how that happened. When a child first uses magic, his or her name is added to a list of children who will be invited to Hogwarts when they turn 11. For many wizarding children, this happens within a few months of their birth. Harry, for instance, appeared on the list of future Hogwarts students at the tender age of 6 weeks. However, sometimes children, especially those raised in Muggle homes, take much longer to uncover their latent magical abilities. In some rare cases, a child has been over 11 when he or she first does so. In these instances, they are invited to Hogwarts immediately.

"As you probably know, Harry, Professor McGonagall spends a good deal of her summer dealing with the letters to be sent to new and returning students. What you may not know is that much of this process is automated. Quills are enchanted to copy the routine text of the letters and address them to the students on the list for each grade. This process is going on right now. The letter to Mrs. Dursley must have been mixed in with all the others that were to go out today, and therefore Minerva did not grasp its significance.

"So Dudley, you can rest assured that nobody set out to deprive you of your mother. However, now that the letter has been sent, it is binding on Hogwarts but not on the recipient. In other words, should Petunia Dursley choose to enter Hogwarts next fall, we will be obligated to accept her as a pupil, but she is under no obligation to attend."

After this long speech, the old wizard looked a bit winded. He paused for breath and drew up a chair. Meanwhile, Dudley was pulling at his mother's sleeve. "You aren't going to go, are you, Mummy? Tell the man you're not going to go so he'll leave us alone."

Mrs. Dursley looked more pensive than Draco would have imagined. "I don't think I'm going to go, Dudders," she said, "but Mummy hasn't made up her mind yet. Be a good boy and let Mummy think about it a little while." Dudley started to wail again. Dumbledore reached into his robe, pulled out a chocolate frog and handed it to the boy. "Chocolate can be a great source of comfort in stressful times," he said soothingly. "But judging from the selection I saw in your room, I imagine you've already figured that out for yourself." In his corner, Draco rolled his eyes.

Dumbledore turned to address Petunia. "There's one thing I still don't understand," he said. "There has never been a case of someone uncovering magical ability at your age, it's true, but what puzzles me even more is that you should have been thoroughly tested when your sister Lily started school. What happened?"

"I suppose I was afraid," Petunia said softly. "I came home from school and there was this strange looking man wearing a pointed hat and long robes. He said he wanted to examine me. My parents were trying to coax me to go with him, so I did the only sensible thing: I ran away and didn't come back until after dark when I was sure he'd gone."

"That must have been traumatic for you," Dumbledore empathized. "Is this when you decided to have nothing to do with wizards?"

"I guess so," Petunia said hesitantly. "It just seemed like there was something dangerous about them. I didn't want anything to do with it. And I certainly never thought there was something like that inside of me."

"How did you feel this morning when you held that wand in your hand?"

"It made me feel all warm inside. It felt good, even natural." Her eyes, which had been warm for a moment, turned cold again. "Dumbledore, I just don't know what I'm going to do now."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled kindly. "Right now, I think you should start making supper, because it's almost 5 o'clock and your husband will be here any moment. I'll return tomorrow and we can talk further, but for now I must leave you." With that, Dumbledore put on his hat, picked up his wand, and headed out the door.