It was really all very simple when it came down to it. The lack of direction had been a hurdle at first, of course, but she'd found an ad in the paper for a typing course that had quickly remedied that little problem. Secretarial work hadn't ever been something she'd seriously considered, but all of a sudden it seemed to fit. She needed to get out of the house, it was a reason to move away, and it would pave the road to earning a living wage for herself.

Her family all thought it was terribly silly of her. There must be something she could do closer to home, in her parents' opinion; something that would let her live at their house until she was well set in life. And, while she'd never asked her nor outwardly expressed any interest in her opinion, she'd overheard Lily telling them she thought it would be too monotonous and unchallenging a profession for her. It was sweet that Lily thought her smart enough for more, but it just showed once more how little they all knew her.

She wanted monotonous and unchallenging. Lily was the one who wanted to collect the stars and carry them all around in her pocket like coins; Petunia wanted normalcy. Her perfect younger sister relied on charisma and pure talent, her hair and personality drawing people in like flame and honey. Personally, Petunia classified anyone who was drawn to her and stayed with her as Lily's bees, and those that were hurt as a result of their infatuation as Lily's moths. But that wasn't how Petunia thought it should be. It was too ostentatious, too flaunting. People, women especially, were supposed to be humble and good, while Lily lured everybody in, dabbled in witchcraft, and had the unfortunate inability to be quiet when she saw something she disagreed with. She should be more demure, more hidden. Conversely, and perhaps in part subsequently, Petunia wanted the opposite. She craved normalcy and good appearances, almost as if it could wash her clean of whatever infected Lily and might be lying dormant inside her too. Living ordinarily seemed to be the highest achievement one could reach, balancing obligations with needs quite sufficiently. It would do her quite well to be married with two children and a household income that was above average without being excessively so.

Excessiveness is, in her opinion, where it all goes wrong. Lily was excessively different, be it in the way that drew people to her or the way that she could do unnatural things. The people who accepted her for this were excessively weak-willed, going along with it rather than giving her the discipline she needed, the perspective she should have been given the first time she considered going to that ridiculous school. That Snape boy was excessively poor and rude, neither of which she or any of her friends could easily forgive.

Her parents, however, were as fascinated with magic as their youngest daughter, and were the busiest bees of them all. Dinner conversations during the school terms frequently included reports of how Lily was doing, discussions of how that thing she mentioned worked again, and gushing about Lily's achievements. And they didn't peter away when Lily did return home, instead increasing as the girl described her subjects and friends, explained those topics, and cheekily accepted the praise. Petunia could have accepted one or the other; talk while she's gone, or talk while she's here, but not both. Alas, conversations all seemed to eventually loop back around to at least a throwaway reference to Lily.

Living there just wasn't working out for Petunia. She needed to get away from the talk and the honey and the flame, and she needed to be someplace where her dream wasn't seen as the crazy one.

-u-s-g-

When she first met him, her first thought was that he seemed perfect – perfectly normal, that was. He was on the chubby side, but that could very well be metabolism rather than overindulgence. His looks were attractive without being the kind of stunning that tempts sin. The way he spoke was straight to the point; he knew what he wanted done, and he knew how he wanted it done, and he didn't mince words in expressing what it was that he wanted in both cases. Vernon Dursley was no poet or wordsmith, and she admired that about him. It was blindingly obvious that he was the embodiment of every dream of blissful mediocrity she'd ever had. Lily would think him boring and materialistic, Petunia knew, but she didn't see him that way herself. Ordinariness did not make one boring or worthless; being good is better than being widely renowned. No, she saw him as the sort of man who liked working on and completing set, planned tasks, and whose life ambition was to be normal and comfortable. And she couldn't fault him for any of that, given that that was exactly what the young secretary wanted too, both in a partner and in life.

They'll see, she thought to herself as a waiter showed them to an empty table with a picturesque view of the blossoming spring fields. I know what makes me happy, while they confuse me for themselves and assume I need the same things. They didn't know me, and they didn't know what they had, but they soon will. When I don't go crawling back to them, and when they realise I'm better as I am. Then they'll see.


A/N All opinions belong, obviously, to this version of Petunia. Some are expressions or exaggerations or warped versions of what I think, others follow on from those versions, and others still just seemed to fit her character. I'm not going to apologise for how she is portrayed or her opinions expressed, but I do want to clear something up.

Health and weight don't have a straightforward relationship; weight may be a symptom or a sign or a cause, but it certainly doesn't solely determine healthiness. Petunia is interested in whether Vernon's weight is due to a) him eating more than he has to, which teenage!Petunia wouldn't approve of because she believes in moderation, or b) his specific body shape and metabolism, in which case she wouldn't mind. The issue for Petunia isn't size, but rather what that might mean for Vernon's approaches to and habits in other areas of life. I kind of see Petunia as a crueller, more vindictive, less religious version of Marilla Cuthburt in this regard.

Of course, while people should be informed about and have access to healthy food, no one should be shamed for what they choose unless it endangers a dependant.