AN: Written for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes Challenge, testing the product Lover's Lube: Once applied, creates a feeling of attraction toward someone other than your partner (must start one pairing, then switch to another), there is also a physical reaction to touching the new partner (some sort of reaction, sparks, warmth, you choose), and it lasts for two days (2000 word minimum) Also for the Goblet of Fire stage of the Triwizard Tournament Competition.
Disclaimer: Only character that belongs to me is Daniel Smith. :)
Petunia Dursley was not, unfortunately, conventionally pretty.
She had a long, horsey face, was too thin, and, unlike her sister with her glorious mane of shimmering red hair, Petunia had thin, mousy hair. In fact, some people would even go so far as to call Petunia ugly. Some people had, and Petunia believed them, as she had functioning eyes, and could see in the mirror that she didn't have the usual aesthetically pleasing face.
When she was a teenager, seeing her friends getting boyfriends, first kisses, and um, other firsts, Petunia was resignedly jealous. She knew that the only boys she was likely to attract would be ugly, unpleasant boys that nobody else wanted. She was not happy about it, but she had accepted her lot in life, and lived with it.
She didn't care how much her parents said that she had her own unique beauty, she knew better.
When Vernon Dursley showed signs of being interested in her, she was elated, as she was nineteen years old, and no boy had ever so much as glanced at her.
They started dating, and Petunia was happy. Vernon Dursley, while not the most pleasant of men, in fact far from it, as he was a hypocrite, ugly, fat, and decidedly unpleasant, was still a man, one who was gracious enough to show interest in Petunia after she had given up hope.
After six months of dating, Vernon proposed, after obtaining her parent's permission, who though still doubtful about the wisdom of her marrying this man, could see that she was happy, and gave their permission.
Three months after that, they were married and settled into a decidedly normal life in Little Whinging.
While Vernon had a job in a company making drills, Petunia was a stay at home wife, and with no children, or any on the way, as Vernon wanted to wait until they were more stable financially, she was soon bored out of her mind.
She started visiting the local library where she joined the book club. Where she met Daniel.
Petunia nervously walked into the room filled with women in demure dresses whispering among themselves, none of them paying any attention to her. Looking around the circular room, Petunia searched for an empty seat, scanning the people there in the process.
There was the usual assortment of classic house wives, i.e. the women in demure dresses, clutching a book in their hands, and quickly looking away when Petunia tried to make eye contact. There was also, standing out like a sore thumb against the monotone of the women, a tall, thin, sickly-looking and pale young man.
He was sitting uncomfortably next to a woman who was jostling him dreadfully by her arms that were flailing about, gesturing something to her neighbour, another cookie-mould cut housewife.
However much Petunia didn't want to draw attention to herself by sitting next to someone who stood out as much as this young man did, the only empty seat was next to him.
Steeling herself for him uncomfortably shifting away, as every man who was not her husband had done when they found an ugly woman next to them, Petunia walked over to the opposite side of the circular room, where the young man was sitting, and plopped herself into the seat next to him, clutching her copy of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, the book the notice board had said the book club was currently reading, in her hands.
Her knuckles whitening with the force of her grip, Petunia waited for the tell-tale shuffle on the young man's part, indicating him moving himself slightly away.
But, instead of feeling the presence to her right shift away from her, she actually felt it move closer. Surprised, Petunia looked up, straight into the young man's apologetic blue eyes, his body leaning into her while gesturing at the woman next to him, a fat lady with red cheeks and even redder hair, whose gestures had become even more expansive.
"Sorry, I'm just going to sit a bit tighter against you, that lady nearly gave me a bruise," the quiet voice of the young man said, while one long, thin hand gingerly rubbed his ribs, where Petunia suspected the woman had been jabbing at him.
Swallowing her shock at him not being repulsed by her, Petunia managed a shaky nod, and said: "That's alright."
Smiling at her, blue eyes popping and dimples appearing in his cheeks, he replied: "Thanks."
Nodding at him, Petunia turned toward the podium, where the leader of the book club had just taken her place, and was trying to get the women's attention.
Several times during the discussion about whether Austen's book was a timeless classic, or an overused theme of pretty girl gets rich guy, Petunia felt the young man's curious glance on her. She ignored it, certain that he was just wondering how he could've talked to an ugly girl like her, instead immersing herself in the old-fashioned world of Pride and Prejudice, where all girls were pretty, and rich men sprouted up like weeds.
After the meeting, everyone was invited to have a cup of tea and get to know one another. Even though Petunia was certain she didn't really want to know these people, she had to make an effort, as she was one of the stay-at-home wives, and was going to be living with these people in a neighbourhood for the rest of her foreseeable future.
She was pouring herself a cup of tea, wondering if it would be too impolite to just insert herself in a conversation somewhere, when the same quiet voice that had addressed her earlier, spoke up beside her.
"Hello ma'am. I don't believe I introduced myself earlier when I so unceremoniously leaned against you."
Startled by the voice speaking up suddenly beside her, Petunia's hand jerked, causing the tea to slop over the edge, and land on the pristine white tablecloth.
Horrified, Petunia was pulling out her handkerchief to try and scrub out the stain, when she was pulled by the elbow to a corner, and away from the table. Spinning around, she opened her mouth to ask the young man, for it was he who had pulled her away, only to be stopped by a finger appearing in front of her face, warning her to be quiet.
Looking over his shoulder to where the other ladies where talking, still completely unaware of the stain, the young man pulled her by the arm out of the door, letting out a sigh of relief when they reached the outside of the library unnoticed.
"Wow, that was close, we would've been cannon-fodder if we had stayed in there long enough for them to notice the tea stain."
Scowling at him, completely forgetting that he was supposed to be disgusted by her, Petunia said: "Well, I wouldn't have spilled the tea if you hadn't startled me."
Smiling that disarming smile at her once again, brushing his light brown hair out of his eyes, he said: "And for that I apologise. I was merely trying to introduce myself, as I spent the whole hour of book club leaning on you, without you even knowing my name, or I yours."
So saying, still smiling, he stuck out his hand, waited for her to gingerly take and said: "Daniel Smith, pleasure to meet you."
Struck by his smile, and jolted by the warmth of his hand, which sent a spark of, something, to flutter in her belly, Petunia smiled hesitantly, acutely aware of her long horsey face and said: "Petunia Dursley, pleasure is all mine."
His smile, if possible, widened even further, and releasing her hand, for which she was grateful, as the fluttering in her belly was worsening every second she held his hand, he said: "Petunia! Such a lovely name, I love petunias, such a pretty flower."
"Oh, um, thank you, I guess."
Smiling at her, he opened his mouth to say something else, when a car pulled up and an elderly woman rolled down the window and honked the car.
Making a gesture to the woman in the car, whom Petunia assumed was his mother, due to the striking resemblance of piercing blue eyes and dimples that they both had, waved goodbye to her, calling at her over his shoulder that he would see her next time.
Putting a hand over her stomach, where the fluttering had gotten even worse, if possible, Petunia stood staring after the car, utterly bewildered by his reaction to her.
At the next meeting, he was there again, and waved enthusiastically at her, the book they were reading, Bleak House by Charles Dickens clutched in his other hand.
Though Petunia didn't understand it, he seemed to genuinely like her company, and they talked incessantly at their weekly book club.
She learned that he was studying English literature, but he attended the book club meetings as incentive to actually read the books that he was assigned. He was twenty-two years old, a full two years older than she, and he had never thought of marriage, and couldn't believe that she was already married.
He asked her about Vernon, and when she told him that he sold drills, he got a strange look on his face, as if he was fighting with himself to not laugh.
When he asked he asked her what she did for a living, she blushed, suddenly ashamed of doing nothing but sitting at home all day, even if she was hardly the only woman to do so, and told him that she wrote while her husband was at work. Immediately interested, he asked to see some of her work, and, panicking, she wrote something, praying it wasn't too bad, and showed it to him at the next meeting.
He took the paper, read it, and his mouth fell open. Seeing the expression on his face, she started babbling about how she knew it wasn't good and that it was still the first draft and really anything she could remember her creative writing teacher in high school saying.
She was surprised when his hand came up, covered her mouth, and he whispered: "Brilliant, this is utterly brilliant."
His impressed voice made her frown, thinking about the short story she had written about a girl in a normal family discovering she had magic, and her jealous younger sister. Guess where that idea had come from.
Still, relieved that he hadn't seen through her, she only smiled modestly.
One time, after book club, talking out on the front steps of the library, Daniel asked her, quite suddenly, if she would like to have an affair.
Shocked, Petunia nearly dropped her cup of tea, but caught herself in time.
"An, an affair? But I- I'm ugly."
The jovial smile Daniel had been wearing, disappeared, and frowning ferociously, he took the tea cup out her hands, cupped her face with the long thin hands she had noticed the first time she met him, and said fervently: "No you're not. You're unique, that's all. And don't anyone ever tell you differently."
With those words, he smashed his mouth against hers, gentling it when she let out a surprised whimper, but still softly, patiently, kissing her mouth.
Petunia's mind raced. She had been kissed before, obviously, but she had never known a kiss could feel like this. The kisses she shared with Vernon were nothing compared to the feeling of Daniel gently running his tongue against her mouth, asking for entrance, or the jolt of electricity that went through her when his tongue brushed hers.
Panting and pulling away, Petunia could only stare at him, shocked, as he, gently smiling, caressed her face, smoothing his thumbs along her sharp cheekbones until his mother came to pick him up.
That whole week, Petunia couldn't wait to get to book club, though she took care to hide it from her husband.
Getting there, she searched for him, but not finding him, went to sit in their usual space, waiting for him to show up.
He never did, and she never saw him again.