Dear Petunia,
I'm getting unimaginative with gifts for you and Vernon, but these students suck out all of my creative energies like little vampires during the start of term (I won't be so crass as to compare them to dementors). Enjoy the chocolate. Happy Birthday.
Yours,
Severus
Petunia was as usual perfectly satisfied with Severus' gift, which was waiting for her with the morning mail with the short note enclosed. The box of chocolates was exquisite. She gave one chocolate truffle each to Dudley and Harry before packing them off to day school. She sampled two of the three flavors of chocolate cauldrons (butterbeer and pumpkin) throughout the day but saved most of those to share with Vernon later. The butterbeer ones were her favorite, but she resolved to leave most of those and all the firewhiskey ones for Vernon. The chocolate-covered peppermint toads she cheerfully and shamelessly gobbled all herself, reasoning Vernon might find the shape off-putting and that the mint was too strong for the boys to enjoy. After the breakfast dishes were all cleaned, she jotted down a quick thank-you in Severus' journal, then sat down to indulge in a soap opera while she had the house to herself. Rachel came over for an enjoyable hour of lunch and gossip.
Doing nothing in particular was, altogether, a jolly way to spend her birthday, Petunia decided.
She allowed the boys another chocolate truffle when they came home. "Mummy, where does choc'late come from?" Dudley asked.
"It's made from cocoa beans, milk, and sugar," she answered absently while rolling out the crust for the steak-and-kidney pie she had decided to make for her birthday dinner. It was a favorite of hers, the dish she had always ordered when the family had gone out to the local eatery for special occasions when she was a little girl.
"We grow cocoa beans next year?" Harry asked excitedly.
"Ooh, yes! Then Mummy can make choc'late! 'Cause Mummy's cooking is the best!"
Petunia grinned and shook her head. "Sorry to disappoint you boys, but cocoa beans don't grow here."
"Why?"
"We're too far north."
"That's silly," Dudley complained.
Harry, meanwhile, dragged the little stool over from next to the sink and stood on it so he could see over the counter and look at her quizzically. "We talk about south in school. Not today but before. South is where Austalia is."
"And Afica! We did a song!"
"If you learned a song about the continents, then you must sing it to me."
Dudley followed this suggestion immediately, belting out at the top of his lungs, "North America, South America, joined in the West./ Euro' and Asia meet together, and on Afica they rest. Ausalia stand alone, floating down below./ An' Anartica is the lonelies, where no one want to go."
"No fair, Dudley, I wanted sing too," Harry complained.
"Then next time, you should just join in," Petunia told him. "That was very nice, Dudley."
Harry scowled whilst Dudley smirked and tried to climb up on the stool next to him. Harry shook his head firmly. "I'm shorter. I get step."
"But I want it!"
"Harry's right, Dudders, he needs it more than you do." Dudley sighed dramatically, while Harry grinned in triumph.
"Anyway, cocoa beans grow in Austalia?"
"I'm not sure, Harry. That might be too far south, where it starts getting too cold again. Cocoa beans are from tropics."
"What's the topics?"
"Land close to the Equator."
"What's the Quator?" Dudley asked, just as mystified by this new information as Harry.
"Equator. It's the imaginary line around the middle of the Earth, like the waistband of the planet."
"What's a panet?"
"What's Earth? Isn't that juss dirt?"
Petunia took a deep, bracing breath. "The Earth is the name for one of the planets. It is the world we live on, a huge, huge ball of rock. England where we live is just a very small place on the surface of the ball, and much smaller than those continents you learned the names of. There are other planets that are also huge balls of rock, some bigger than Earth and some smaller." The boys' eyes widened in wonder, or possibly confusion. "The Moon is similar, also a big ball of rock, but not as big as a planet." She took advantage of the momentary stunned silence to finish constructing her pie and put it in the oven.
"I don't get it," Dudley admitted eventually. Harry nodded agreement.
"I'll get you a coloring book about the solar system," Petunia said. They brightened immediately.
"How come we don't fall off?"
"Fall off what?"
"The big ball. The Earth."
"Can't stand on a ball." The boys nodded wisely at eachother in perfect agreement with this reasoning.
Resigning herself to another hour of endless questions until dinner, Petunia washed her hands and then herded both boys into the back yard. She might as well get some weeding done while they pestered her. Harry was actually learning to recognize some of the weeds this summer, specifically blooming dandelions, and was helping her pull them. Watching Harry work, she strongly suspected he must be employing some accidental magic to pull the dandelions. He always got the the taproot intact as she had instructed back in June, every single time, no matter how big the plant was and how hard he had to struggle with it. She duly praised his efforts, and he swelled with pride as he threw each weed into her bucket. Not to be outmatched, Dudley, initially lured away by the sight of some of his favorite toys, triumphantly appeared with a little wagon to enthusiastically cart the weed bucket back and forth to the compost heap in the back behind the shed. Petunia was glad he had put his boundless energy to practical use today. Normally, he ended up spreading toys and things all over the yard and house with his multiple begun-and-forgotten daily games. He did still get periodically distracted, dragging the wagon to other corners of the garden before remembering his self-appointed mission. She praised him as well.
The pie was delicious, as was the lemon cake Vernon brought home for her. The boys sang Happy Birthday and presented her with a large art project they had worked on together at day school and folded into one of their bags to keep secret until this evening. Petunia's smile was a little strained as she accepted it and stuck it to the refrigerator; it was shedding poorly-glued glitter all over the floor. Hopefully, they would be making Vernon a new, glitter-free card or picture in two weeks.
Vernon took the boys upstairs when it was time for bed, which Petunia appreciated even though she fully intended to follow them up and read a bedtime story as per usual. In the meantime, however, she opened up Severus' journal. To her surprise, he had not yet written anything today, which was odd since he was usually so conscientious about both dates and timely replies, even if it was just a quick yes/no/thank you/you're welcome. Of course she supposed, the school year was different. She would have to get used to that again.
Day 3. Any disasters yet, Professor? -P
She leafed through a gossip magazine and ate another pumpkin mousse-filled chocolate cauldron while watching for a reply. She chuckled when it finally came.
You know me so well -S
Let's hear it then -P
I discovered a grievous conspiracy against the integrity of my House on Saturday. Sunday was uneventful. I narrowly survived today's classes unscathed, but alas discovered that my seventh-year prefects are the worst, most entitled horrors. I despair for the future -S
Petunia sniggered. So melodramatic -P
I try. Happy birthday -S
Thank you -P
How did you celebrate? -S
By eating bonbons and otherwise doing absolutely nothing of note -P
Good birthday then? -S
Exquisite. So what did your terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad prefects do? -P She decided at that instant which book she would be reading the boys tonight.
Their class in general is full of trouble-makers. I had a meeting with both of them to get to know them a little better and also to obtain an impression of how the students are getting along socially in the privacy of the dormitories and whether they perceive any of the problems in the house that I do. Unfortunately, they are both from posh, rich families and don't care about problems that don't directly affect them. Both were overly familiar on the grounds that I was still a seventh-year student during their first year and have no interest in helping maintain discipline. Both were openly judgmental about my muggle father. -S
They do sound unpleasant -P Petunia suspected his being so close in age to the oldest students might be the biggest part of the problem. Much harder to assert himself as an authority figure in the "home." Lily had stopped listening to Petunia long before she stopped listening to their parents.
Tried to remonstrate with their pathetic apathy. The boy rolled his eyes at me -S
Hope you gave him detention. I'm the only one allowed to roll my eyes at you -P
I did not -S
Did you at least glare at him? Really, really murderously like you can? -P That wasn't a habit she wanted to encourage in him of course, but a little fear might help him to maintain respect amongst the angsty seventeen-year-olds, so he could focus on the younger students who presumably needed him more.
I might have, yes. The saddest thing is those two still represent the best of their class. They actually are both bright enough to pass their classes without trying very hard, and they're both lazy enough they tend to follow the rules because they have no reason to break them. I think that's the only reason they were made prefects, to be honest. -S
Do you get to pick the prefects for next year at least? -P
I nominate, Albus approves -S
Next year will be better I suspect. You just have to stick it out until then -P
We'll see if I live that long. I'm meeting the sixth year prefects next week, and fifth years the week after that. Assuming I survive, it's all the first years after that -S
Oh, dear, Severus had gotten himself even more worked-up than he had been before the start of term. He was such an obsessive and socially awkward dork he was going to run himself into the ground with this new project. Do yourself a favor and take a break somewhere in there, even if the other interviews go better. Come out for a visit, maybe. Or just lock yourself in your room and don't speak to anyone for a day or two -P
...That might be a very, very good idea. Thank you. -S
Author's note: Title in reference to the eponymous song, which basically sums up Petunia's current contentment. Thank you as always for the reviews. Sorry I'm a day late getting this one out there. Next chapter might also be a bit delayed: I went to a bookstore and might still be devouring all my new novels rather than writing on schedule...
