Being Petunia Dursley

Steam rose out of my tea as I sat on my bed. I had finally came to and my dear Vernon wasn't going to let me black out again ("It's like you're pretending to die. You know I hate it when you fake it."). He sat on a chair beside me, watching. Obviously, I hadn't taken it too well. But how was I supposed to react? I wake up and find a baby on my doorstep. The neighbors probably saw it all and I would be in the throes of scandal for ages! On top of that, it belonged to that...abnormal sister of mine. I always knew she was up to no good. I said it from the very beginning. And now the stupid bitch deposited her puppy at my home like I'm some kid of dog pound. She makes me sooo angry. I hope to God that she gets what she deserves some day. I still can't forgive her for that time she -

"Petunia?" Vernon said. He seemed to have something important to say. And I could tell he was a bit nervous about it.

"What?" I said, glad that he had stopped my train of thought. I always get a little worked up when I thought about my sister.

"There was a letter."

"A letter where?"

"With...er...Harry."

Pause.

"Does it say where Lily is? Because there is no way I'm rearing her baby."

"Er," Vernon said awkwardly. "Lily's dead. And so is her husband. They were killed."

Pause.

"Well she deserved it! After what she did to me."

"I'm sure whatever she did to you wasn't enough to-"

"SHUT UP!" I screamed. Everything fell silent. Nothing was heard during the hiatus except for the sound of my raspy breathing. After a few moments, "You have no idea, no idea what she did to me," I said, her voice dripping with emotion. "And I refuse to take care of her child."

"But Petunia-"

"No."

"You don't understand-"

"No. No! NO!! I refuse," I said with a certain finality I didn't know I had. "I have a headache again. Leave now."

Vernon sat there, shocked. I had never been so forceful with him before. He was always the dominant one. He is a robustly brawny man. He opened his mouth to say something, and then decided against it. Dejected and distraught, he tossed the letter on my nightstand, and walked out of the room and closed the door. I sat in my spot, heart racing, trying to control my breathing. My eyes wandered around the room on their own accord. They weren't paying attention to me and I didn't heed their direction. That is, until they settled on something important.

The window was open! It was wide open with a gentle breeze blowing the pale blue linen curtains that framed it. Not too long ago, when I decorated the nursery, I thought it would be good to give the house a lighter look and feel. The colors would calm me down because there's lots of stress involved with taking care of a baby. However, the relaxing colors did nothing to mollify me now. I got out of bed and went to the window, and sure enough Mrs. Stackpole was standing there in her yard listening, accompanied by Mrs. Beckham. When they saw me looking, they quickly turned the other way and started talking about the strange owls that had appeared everywhere yesterday. I slammed the window down in frustration and yanked the curtains closed. I can't believe my horrible luck. Mrs. Crapyard and Mrs. Uglyrobe heard! Those two are such nosy gossipmongers, it'll be all over the neighborhood in no time. I can never deny this now.

By this time I was furious. Adrenaline was running wild throughout my body. I could hear the blood pumping through my veins. I decided to count to ten. 1. 2. 3. Oh piss it. That's not going to bloody work. I breathed deeply, filling my lungs to their capacity and exhaling slowly. That did help a bit. I guess I can stay cool under fire. I walked to the bathroom that was attached to my room. I picked up one of the paper cups I keep in the bathroom and filled it with water from the sink. After I drank, I looked at myself in the mirror, straight in my own eyes. I expected to see a strong woman, steadfast and resolute. But instead I saw a woman that looked like she was about to go psycho. And I did.

Screaming, I threw my cup at the mirror. Frustrated at the fact that the mirror didn't break (the cup was just paper) I screamed even more. I wrenched the medicine cabinet open, looking for something to break. I took a bottle of my favorite perfume, L'eau Maison. I tossed it through the bathroom window. I didn't even care if the meddlesome ladies heard anymore. I hope the bottle hit one of them in the head. "BITCH!!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. And then, I felt better.

*

"Done," I said as a put down my makeup brush. Since my anxiety attack began to relieve some of my tension, I took a nice long shower to get rid of the rest. I stood with the hot water cascading against me for at least half an hour. I was now completely calm. I sat down on my bed to think about what I was going to do next. Maybe I should put It up for adoption. Or maybe Marge, Vernon's sister, could bring him up. Yes, I was very calm.

Well, at least I was for awhile. But then I read the letter.