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Although Petunia resented Lily, as time passed and Lily’s letters continued not to arrive, a thread of worry began to stir in Petunia’s heart.
Yvonne knew that, at least for now, Lily was still in a relatively safe place.
Yet that safety was like glass as thin as a cicada’s wing, it could shatter at any moment.
Yvonne understood clearly that Lily’s safety could not hold indefinitely.
The dangers lurking in the shadows could reach out their hideous claws at any time.
A resolute light flickered in Yvonne’s eyes.
A decision had been made, to give Petunia a push.
Yvonne could not change Lily’s fate, could not stop the approaching footsteps of death, but hoped to leave some last warmth for the two of them before the flame of Lily’s life went out.
Otherwise, there would be too many regrets.
“Do you know anyone who has crossed paths with your sister — someone who knows her whereabouts, or might even be able to get in touch with her?” Yvonne prompted, in a roundabout way.
All manner of possibilities and consequences flashed through Petunia’s mind.
Two options lay before Petunia: seek Snape’s help, or find a way to contact Dumbledore.
Almost instantly, Petunia dismissed the former without hesitation.
This was not because Petunia had any insight into Snape’s true identity.
In fact, Petunia knew nothing of Snape’s real identity.
Petunia did not know he was actually a Death Eater, nor did Petunia know he might pose a threat.
The reason Petunia ruled out that option was purely a matter of inner resistance and confusion.
Petunia hurried home.
Petunia remembered that a certain letter held enormous significance.
Petunia could not wait to start rummaging through boxes and drawers, searching for that long-sealed letter.
The house was full of belongings, and Petunia went through them one by one, yet the letter was nowhere to be found.
Anxiety crept into Petunia’s heart, could the letter have been lost?
Finally, at the bottom of a dusty old box, Petunia found the letter, its paper yellowed with age.
Petunia picked it up gently.
The paper was covered in the marks of time, and the handwriting had grown faint and blurry.
Petunia ran a hand lightly over the page, as though able to feel the resolve and determination of the person who had written it all those years ago.
This was the letter Petunia had written to Dumbledore back then, the letter requesting admission.
After Snape and Lily had peeked at it, Petunia had wanted to throw it away, but for some reason Petunia could not quite name, the letter had been kept all the same.
Petunia began writing to Dumbledore using the same method as before, pouring every bit of thought into the letter, making it both sincere and full of anticipation.
However, several days passed with no reply at all.
Petunia began to feel discouraged, had Dumbledore already abandoned that contact method?
After thinking it over for a long time, after prolonged inner struggle and weighing of options, Petunia finally made a decision, to go to Snape’s house.
When Yvonne learned of this decision, Yvonne chose to accompany Petunia.
Petunia’s heart felt as if it had been left hanging in mid-air, filled with unease.
Petunia was afraid that Yvonne would panic upon learning the startling fact that Snape was a wizard.
But Petunia’s physical condition truly was not suited for making the trip to Spinner’s End alone.
Petunia had no choice but to summon every last bit of energy and go to 19 Spinner’s End together with Yvonne.
They knocked.
Just as the two were beginning to think no one was home and were about to turn and leave, the front door slowly swung open.
It was Yvonne’s first time seeing Snape in person.
Snape’s frightening gaze made Yvonne flinch and bow Yvonne’s head, a nameless dread rising in Yvonne’s chest.
“Snape, there is something I want to ask your help with — it concerns Lily.” There was a note of urgency in Petunia’s voice.
Snape’s brow furrowed slightly.
He asked Yvonne to step aside before turning to face Petunia and beginning to speak.
“Perhaps you know, or perhaps you do not.
My parents have passed away.
I have been trying to reach Lily, but I have not been able to get through.
You are the only person on that side I can find.
So I want to ask — can you get in touch with Lily?” When Petunia was truly standing before Snape, she found there was not much guilt in her heart.
In fact, she felt strangely composed.
She felt this was right.
What had happened that day had been mutual and willing, nothing more than an ordinary moment of pleasure, both parties simply enjoying the physical enjoyment.
“Lily is currently being protected in a confidential location.
You cannot reach her.” Snape paused for a moment.
“You can write a letter.
I will pass it along on your behalf.
If it is convenient for her, I will bring the reply back to you.” Petunia’s heart was filled with surprise and puzzlement, surprised at Snape’s willingness to help.
Even though puzzlement lingered, Petunia also understood that this was undeniably of great benefit.
There was no need to probe Snape’s motives, no need to press for his reasons.
All that was needed was to be grateful for the help and to make the most of this rare opportunity.
Yvonne, standing with her back to the two of them, was as still as a statue, head lowered, looking for all the world as though intent on counting the busy ants on the ground.
Though Yvonne’s gaze rested on those small creatures, Yvonne’s thoughts had long since drifted away, flying toward that corner Yvonne could not see into.
Yvonne’s ears tilted up ever so slightly without thinking, trying to catch any trace of sound coming from that corner.
Yet all around was silence.
Yvonne knew full well that this must be Snape having cast some kind of magic, making it impossible for their conversation to be detected from outside.
Yvonne’s mind was full of curiosity and speculation, imagining what the meeting between those two was like.
Yvonne had expected it to be a tense standoff, or at the very least a charged exchange, but now, things seemed far more peaceful than Yvonne had imagined.
Petunia had just finished the conversation with Snape, feeling a complicated mix of relief and an inexplicable heaviness.
At the very moment Petunia stepped out through the front door, Snape suddenly moved, he shot out a hand and pulled the door firmly shut.
Petunia was startled by this sudden movement and looked back, only to see Snape’s worn, dilapidated front door.
Well.
Snape was still exactly as Petunia remembered.
That was what Yvonne thought, watching the scene unfold.
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