Explaining Petunia
By Ambush
A/N You have no idea how bad I feel for Petunia Dursley. No idea. Please read and review! I know this is short. I'm trying to get it going, though.
Petunia's window was cracked open all night, letting in the cool air on an July evening. She was dreaming of flying when the sun broke over the rooftops. Hours later, she woke to the smell of french toast wafting through the house. She was up in an instant, grinning. French toast was her absolute favourite food. It was a food group in itself, as far as she was concerned.
"Morning Pet," Said her father as she walked into the kitchen. "Have a good sleep?"
"Great, Dad. It was so nice out, I had the window open. Is Lily up yet?"
She reached for a fork as she sat down, eager to begin eating.
"Lily got up when she heard you mum get up, but I think she's in bed right now…-" He shrugged over his coffee mug as he was cut off.
"Morning, morning, toast!" sang Lily as she entered.
Petunia and her little sister, Lily, got along well most of the time. 98% of the time, actually, thought Petunia. The rest of the time was spent in sisterly squabbles over television, radio stations, posessions, and clothes. Not that Lily could fit into most of Petunia's clothing. Petunia was taller and much thinner than Lily.
"Petunia, pass the powdered sugar, would ya please?"
"Mmhmm – pass the raspberry jam here, then…"
"Lily, dear, hand your mother the coffee pot."
"Dad, can't you just--"
"Now then, Lily…"
"Yes, sir!"
"Petunia, why d'you eat raspberry jam on French toast?"
Petunia shrugged. "I'm just different."
When the sun set on this day, Petunia Evans would have a very different idea of what 'different' meant.
