Petunia had always been jealous of Lily. Her eyes burned sharply as she quickened her stride out of her home. Vernon had asked her out last week, and she now stood in front of a fancy restaurant as she fiddled with her clothes. It somehow felt important this night. She had been on dates with Vernon before, but this time felt different. He had been nervous when he asked. As always, Vernon assumed she would agree, leaving her behind before she could answer. It made her feel as if she had no choice but to go out with him. Frustration then flashed through her. Her sister had come home with a boy! Of course, her sister would find someone like her. And they had wanted to marry as well. She was the older sister. Shouldn't she have found someone earlier? Angrily, she kicked against a pine cone on the ground. She suddenly wished her sister had stayed at Hogwarts this Christmas break. She felt so unlovable and boring when her sister had been there. She felt sure that even her parents would have agreed with this, and those were her own parents. They were supposed to dote on her.
The restaurant Vernon had asked her to come to looked incredibly fancy. Petunia shyly walked in and asked if there was a reservation for the name Dursley. She somehow felt undeserving of being in this place. The waitress guided her to Vernon, who was already sitting at a table. He wore a suit that was not very flattering. She thought he looked like a tiny sausage. Weren't men supposed to look stunning in tuxedos? Potter certainly had. She ignored her thoughts as she smiled at Vernon and hesitantly took his hands.
"Pet, it is so good to see you," Vernon said. He looked a bit nervous. Petunia never really liked her name. Nor did Petunia like being called 'pet', as if she were his dog or his cat. Why couldn't her parents have called her Rose or Fleur or Jasmine or Iris or Daisy or Holly? It felt as if they knew she could never compare to Lily. She would never do magic. She would always be normal. It stung. She noticed a glass of wine that Vernon must have preordered for her. She quickly emptied the glass. She winced; the wine had probably been expensive. Vernon, however, did not seem to notice as he was struggling with a cuff link. He smiled up at her. "I hope you like the restaurant; it's only the best for my pet," he said softly.
Suddenly, Petunia felt very unsure. Wasn't this what she always wanted—someone who tried to make her feel special? She suddenly realized she had been silent as Vernon was shooting her tentative looks. "It's lovely, Vernon," she said reassuringly.
"Good," Vernon said. He seemed reassured. He then started speaking about his work. He worked at an office selling vacuum cleaners, and he was a junior executive. This meant he mainly spoke to customers and did some billing and administrative work. He also implemented the marketing strategies the executives had thought up. It bored Petunia, but she did not show it and smiled as she sat up a little straighter. She swallowed. She did not care for her sister, Potter, or their adventures. Hadn't they always made it so clear that she would never fit in? After all, she was only a muggle. No, she cared for Vernon. She cared for the drill company he wanted to set up. She cared about being normal, because that was all she was and all she would ever be.
During the date, Vernon noticed nothing of the internal turmoil within Petunia. Even not when Petunia felt near crying. Vernon had ordered food for them decisively. Petunia had been too late to react to it. Maybe she had been thinking too much. At least that was what her parents always said. Now she was stuck with some expensive-looking lobster. She did not dare say anything about it, as she decided it would be too ungrateful. Vernon talked a lot about himself as Petunia's mind kept wandering. Sometimes he'd ask something like, "Don't you agree, Pet?" and then she'd drift back to the conversation. She would faithfully nod, clearly pleasing him, and he'd go on about whatever he'd been talking about. He did not really ask her about herself. She then started worrying that he'd find her weird and silent. She was probably a lousy date, and she should say something interesting.
"You know, Vernon," Petunia says softly. "I was thinking of taking up ballet and piano again." Petunia felt herself smile a little. She had been thinking about it. When she was seventeen, she felt too scared to apply to the Academy for the Arts. It was a stupid idea anyway, like they'd want her. Suddenly, she remembered Dumbledore's letter. She felt herself blush deeply as she remembered his kind reply. It had been too kind, almost depreciating. The letter was dripping with pity for the muggle, who would never belong, never be special, and never be precious. She felt near crying.
"Pet, Pet, Pet." Vernon was shaking his head with mocking disbelief. "You know that when I have my own company, you don't have to work, and you can take care of our son and cook, right?" She winces; surely he did not mean it as condescending as it sounded, right?
Petunia ignored his comment. "Vernon, I want to," Pentunia explained softly.
Vernon laughed as if she were making a joke. "Don't be silly, Pet." For a moment, Vernon sounded like Snape, that freak. The freak had hurt her. He had taken her sister from her. Suddenly, she could no longer ignore how miserable she felt; soon, tears would fall. Vernon did not notice anything and again started talking about drills.
"I have to go," she blurted out as she ran out of the restaurant, leaving a bewildered Vernon behind. She ran through the streets and then sagged down against a wall. Her head was pounding painfully as the first tears were rolling over her burning cheeks. Near her, there was a motorbiker who was talking to a redheaded man who was scratching the back of his head. They were talking about a motorcycle and muggles. She was hearing the conversation between the two men. But she was not really listening to the strangers, as she felt her whole world crumble around her.
They had not noticed her, but they did notice Vernon as he came jogging around the corner. He looked out of breath, and his face had turned kind of red-purple. "Pet," he said, breathing heavily from running after her. "What's wrong?"
Of course, she should not have run away. It was not Vernon's fault she held such silly beliefs or that she had wanted to be special like Lily. Then she heard loud guffaws. It was the motorbiker; he was very handsome. As he winked at her, she felt her heart flutter but managed to glare at him. Surely, he winked at every person who could sort of qualify as a woman. "I hope you are talking to that stray cat," he said, "And not to that lady, because that is not a term of endearment. It is a term of offense." He then turned around to the redheaded man, who looked fascinated at the two muggels. "Right? I mean, I do not know much about muggles." Petunia's eyes widened. Was this man a wizard? Had she heard it correctly? Muggle—that was a word she'd never forget being called. "But they sure do make nice motorcycles. We could learn something from that! Anyway, muggles don't call each other that, right?" He lovingly stroked the motorcycle as he looked at the red-headed man for an answer. He apparently did not seem to know either, as he questioningly looked at her, and she felt her entire face heat.
"No, of course not." She screamed heatedly at the two wizards. "Vernon Dursley, you are a prat!" Petunia felt angry. She was angry at Vernon, whom she had almost forgiven if the motorbiker had not guffawed. She felt angry at the two wizards. She felt angry for being called Pet, or Patty, or Petunia, or worse: muggle.
"But Pet," Vernon tried.
"No," she declared. "Leave me alone." She had made up her mind. However painful it was, she would not forgive him, and Petunia knew how to hold a grudge.
Vernon looked hurt for a short moment, but then he glared, and Petunia wondered if she had imagined it. "You weren't very pretty anyway," Vernon spat at her.
Petunia felt crushed. There was no way she could have known. How different things could have gone. He would have taken her to his mother's house after their date had things gone a little differently. How he'd propose to her on one knee. Or that he had asked her father's permission last weekend. The two wizards were eyeing her with pity. "He was just saying that because he was hurt," the biker said awkwardly. "I mean, look at him. He was probably just saying what he was scared of hearing." The biker then winced as if he just realized how ill-chosen his words were. "Not that—I mean, you went out with him and—"
"It's okay," Petunia cuts off wearily. She did not feel like having more fights. This one with Vernon had been more than enough. "So you called me a muggle?"
The biker looked caught for a second, but then winked at her. "Slang for incredibly beautiful," the biker murmered easily.
Petunia blushed. She had not wanted to. "Don't try that on me," she tried to say as sternly as she could. "I know what it means; my sister is muggleborn. And you know what?" She knew she felt herself grow angry again. Agnrier than she had ever been. It was as if she allowed herself to feel angry for every time she had ever been called that. And for every time something happened that made her feel unspecial or worthless.
"You just keep waving your wand like an idiot, thinking you are the king of the world. I can light a room up just as easily by turning the light switch!" She said.
The red-headed man looked up curiously at her. "How interesting! What's a light switch?" He asked.
Petunia glared menacingly at the red-headed man. How dare he make fun of her! The biker snorts, distracting her. "Excuse me for my new friend, Arthur Weasley. He-" The biker says. Petunia glares at the biker.
This felt good; she had never before screamed or let out how she felt. "I am not less because I am a muggle. So don't use that humiliating term on me. I can manage just fine without your frogspawn between the basil and chicken spices." She then stuck her nose up. "Out of my way," she ordered, feeling more thrilled than she had ever felt.
The biker then looked offended. "I don't care if you're a muggle. I am not like my family." The biker said. As she looked at the biker's face, she felt all her anger fade away, much to her surprise. She couldn't hold back a small smile. She was feeling a fondness for the biker, who had a childish-looking pout on his face. The biker looked as if he had just been caught stealing cookies.
The red-headed man beamed at her. He was nodding along with the biker's words, showing how he agreed with what he said. "Muggles are fascinating." The redheaded man said so sincerely that Petunia immediately knew she was not the least bit of a joke to the two wizards. Far from. "Please, may I ask you what the purpose of a rubber duck is? I saw them, and they are fascinating. He studied her. Petunia was sure he was not trying to pull one on her or humiliate her. She knew he was actually serious. "Oh, and what is a light switch?"
Still, she could not imagine such a question being asked without them making fun of her. How could they be interested in a rubber duck and a light switch? When they can enjoy their specialness? When they have magic? What kind of wizard would deem a muggle like her worthy to even speak to? Petunia wanted to yell back at him, saying that she was not some animal in the zoo. But as she looked at him, she was sure he had not been making fun of her, and she slumped back. She felt utterly miserable. Something warm had spread in her chest. Those wizards did not look down on her. Why she could not fathom. They had taken an interest in her. "It's a children's toy, for when they take a bath, and I could show you a light switch if you'd care to visit my home." She had not expected the redheaded wizard to immediately agree and light up.
"That would be splendid," the redheaded wizard said. "Absolutely amazing. Of course, you would be welcome to visit the Burrow as well. Molly loves having people over, and you could meet our children. Oh, Arthur Weasley's my name; it's just splendid to meet you."
"Petunia," she introduced herself. She found herself unwilling to say her last name, Evans. As it could possibly reveal herself as Lily's sister. Would they know her sister? How many wizards were there? And did they all know each other? She then suddenly realized how late it had gotten. "I should go home. It is late," Petunia blurts out.
"I'll bring her home," the biker says decidingly. It is clear to Petunia that the biker expects her to ride with him on his motorcycle. She blushes at the thought. What would Vernon or her father say? "You aren't scared, right?" The biker teases her as Petunia huffs.
"I'll owl," Arthur said kindly. Petunia was then pulled onto the motorbike by the biker. She wrapped her hands tightly around his waist as he took off into the air. Petunia had tried to imagine how it felt to ride on a motorbike, but never had she imagined taking off into the air. It was exhilarating. Her heartbeat had jumped into her throat, and she had almost escaped a breathy scream.
The biker was howling loudly in laughter at her shock. "So where are we headed too?" He asked.
Petunia was shocked. "What if they see us? Don't you get in trouble?"
"Don't worry about it!" She was sure he winked again, even if she could not see his face. This biker was such a flirt! "I have some invisibility charms on the motorbike." It made sense to Petunia. She then felt in awe as she looked down at her neighborhood and saw all the houses that now looked tiny. She smiled softly and then pointed out her home. She felt her heart almost drop to her stomach as they quickly descended and landed on the ground. "I'll bring you home." He said it decidedly as he offered her a hand. He pushed the doorbell. He left with a wink as her surprised father watched the boy leave and climb his motorcycle.
"Well, that's just different from Vernon," he blurted out. Petunia shyly looked at her father. "Good difference. So it did not work out with Vernon, I guess?" Her father beamed as he looked at her ringless hand, while she nodded. Her father had never really liked Vernon at all.