TITLE: Perfection
SUMMARY: A morning (a lifetime) with Petunia Dursley. Gen. Written in July of 2005.
It's hard work doing what she does, but Petunia Dursley is not one to shy away from something just because it's difficult. Her whole life has been difficult, full of unasked-for challenges that she has met with as much grace as she could muster, and it's her morning routine that keeps her sane and comforts her. It's not yet dawn, but she's been up for hours, scrubbing her kitchen clean and then starting on breakfast for Vernon and Dudley. It's rather nice, spending those quiet hours by herself and doing the kind of work that makes her feel useful, keeping her kitchen--a haven of organization and normalcy--clean and under control.
Hard work's just not appreciated these days, and Petunia's been a victim of that kind of mindset. She's reminded of this every time she thinks of her sister, or of her nephew. They have it easy--that ridiculous magic that not only makes solving problems easier, but also gives them time to show-off with those pompous, unnecessary tricks. Turning tea-cups into rats? Who would ever, really, need to know such a thing? Petunia, swiping the kitchen counter clean, gives an offended sniff and thanks her lucky stars that she--not to mention her own son!--were spared such fates. She can sleep easy at night, knowing that the kind of man her Dudley will become will be in a whole other league than that of her spoiled nephew, her nephew who can use magic to solve all his problems--which will probably be many, judging by the amount of trouble in which he always manages to find himself.
Petunia ponders this, taking a cup of tea to the kitchen table as the sun starts to rise over Privet Drive. She thinks of how hard she's always had to work for everything she's ever wanted--starting with even just the barest scraps of attention from her parents. They had been so enamored with Lily and her special abilities, but they hadn't been at all impressed by how hard Petunia worked. Getting good marks in school, having friends--good friends, respectable friends who made good connections, not the kind that Lily had at her school--and being a capable, competent human being who didn't need to rely on a crutch like magic...none of that had impressed her parents.
This bitter memory makes Petunia swallow hard, but she reminds herself that, in the end, she is the one who has won. That horrid magical world ended up being the death of Lily, ended up being the reason why their parents were killed (Petunia knows this, though she doesn't speak this out loud, doesn't want to admit that the danger extends to her and her family), and in the end, Petunia is the one left standing. She is the one left holding the pieces together, opening her home--her safe, stable, normal home--to that abnormal, trouble-making nephew of hers, out of the goodness of heart. Of course, there was coercion from external parties--Petunia shudders, sets her cup down sharply, and distracts herself by smoothing down the tablecloth in front of her. She's never going to be free from those kinds of intrusions, and it's not fair to her, or to poor Vernon who puts up with so much, or to Dudley, who doesn't deserve it, not at all...
This is how Petunia Dursley starts her day--she revels in her normalcy and reminds herself of the gift she has been given. She knows all too well that she is underappreciated, that her hard-working, normal nature is easy to overlook, that she sacrifices so much of herself for the stability and comfort of her family, and yet, that other world still keeps encroaching, no matter how hard she tries.
So in the mornings, Petunia takes the time to remember, to be thankful to be who she is. She sits in her kitchen--sparking clean, pure, and comforting in its perfection and its normalcy--and she thinks that maybe, just maybe, she's managed some control in her life. If just for the moment.