For as long as she remembered, Petunia Evans had endeavoured to be normal. She followed trends and did not set them. She was a hanger-on, rarely the leader. And most of all, she was a Muggle. Not a witch.
Her lack of magic was the one thorn in Petunia Evans's side. Even though she followed, and hung on, and listened, she enjoyed being noticed and being part of the elite. When she chanced upon the discovery of that whole other magical world of which she had no part in whatsoever, it annoyed her.
So, naturally, Petunia Evans reinvented herself. She became a bully, shielding her own jealousy with the hard outer shell of a leader.
Soon after, she became Petunia Dursley, descending into a life of normalcy and ordinariness. She tried so hard to forget about that other world, the world her sister fitted into like a glove and the world she had no part in whatsoever, that she almost ceased to believe in it herself.
Almost.
Petunia Dursley then became a mother. Desperate to lose the mummy tummy that attracted unwarranted attention, she threw herself into exercise and three months after the birth of baby Dudley, her slim figure was back.
Whatever Petunia Dursley put her mind to, she'd get it done. It was the motto by which she lived.
Then Petunia Dursley was thrown into the world she'd tried so hard to forget once again upon the death of her sister and her sister's insolent husband whom she'd married way too young and thrown away most of her life for and look where it had ended up – with a young child on her doorstep.
And so Petunia Dursley became, effectively, a mother-of-two. She cleaned and cooked and baked and paid the bills and shouted and shooed away the pesky 'neighbours' in long capes and hats who attracted attention claiming they wanted to see the 'Boy Who Lived', generally ruining her clipped front lawn and drawing the interest of one too many of the other residents of Privet Drive for Petunia Dursley to be entirely content.
Afterwards, Petunia Dursley lulled herself slowly back into the feigned normalcy of her life, only sometimes staring at Harry and seeing her sister's eyes staring back at her, challenging and shining a bright emerald like Lily's had been – and only sometimes did Petunia Dursley feel a twang of regret deep inside her ribcage where she'd forgotten her heart resided after so many years of hiding.
Only sometimes did Petunia Dursley look back with regret at what she could've done in the past. Mostly, Petunia Dursley marched ahead. She marched ahead through Vernon's rants about the 'stupid tomfoolery taking place at that school'; through Dudley's weight gain and subsequent weight loss; through the hordes of 'those people' in robes and hats who marched through the door of Number Four, Privet Drive and demanded that Petunia Dursley and her family leave immediately, to avoid danger...
Oh yes, Petunia Dursley marched ahead. Petunia Dursley would not let anything affect her, because Petunia Dursley was indestructible. She had made herself impervious to excessive emotion and yet, by doing so, she'd kept the people that could've helped her away.
Oh, yes. In the end, it was pride that ruined Petunia Dursley. Pride… and innate stubbornness.
So, I'm blatantly ignoring the work I have to do and I'm going to do some shameless self-advertising instead. Please, if you like this short drabble thing, review - and also maybe take a look at my other stories? Thank you muchly.
