Being Petunia Dursley

RING.

My alarm clock went off precisely at 7:00 in the morning. I pressed the snooze button and got out of bed. I took a quick shower, brushed my teeth, washed my face, and changed into my clothes for the day. I applied my makeup and brushed my blonde hair. The alarm went off again at 7:15. Vernon got up and walked to the bathroom to start his routine. I continued mine.

I walked down the hall to Dudley's room. I tiptoed in and lightly touched him. "It's time to wake up, dear."

"Just five more minutes," he said.

"You'll be late for school. You need the time to eat."

"Please mommy..." he began.

"Get up, and that's final." I hurried out of the room. I still can't resist my Ickle Duddey-Bunny's cute face.

I went to go make breakfast downstairs. As I walked by the cupboard underneath the stairs, I rapped the door.

"UP!" I screamed on my way to the kitchen. I started to cook breakfast. It would be a light one today: waffles, eggs, and fruit. Vernon had gone to the doctor yesterday and he said Vernon should cut back on his food. Today, I planned to go down there and protest. He was a brawny man (rawrrr). He needed brawny meals. Harry walked into the room.

"Hi Auntie," he said, hopefully. You think he would have gotten it by then that I didn't answer back. Sure, maybe he was only five, but my Dudbaby would have figured it out by then. He sat in Dudley's booster seat dejectedly.

"Get off of that seat right now!" I said, when I saw. "You know that's Dudley's."

He got down to get his usual stack of phone books when I had an idea.

"I want you to make the toast today," I instructed. "Do you know how?" He nodded eagerly and went to the bread box.

"I - can't - reach - it!" he said, jumping to reach the handle. I told him to work harder. "Auntie! Auntie, lookit!" Of course I ignored him.

Moments later, Vernon walked into the room reading his paper. "The government has gone mad, I tell you," he started. But he quickly stopped when he saw what was happening. "DEAR BLOODY HELL!" he screamed. I turned around and saw what the cursing was for.

Harry was making the loaf of bread float through the air.

At first I stood in shock, with my mouth wide open I'm sure. But then I dashed to him and snatched the loaf out of the air. I sank to the floor clutching the loaf to my chest. I could barely breathe. I looked up to Vernon, wide-eyed.

His face was extremely pale. But then it turned bright red. "Come here, boy" he said as he stalked toward Harry. Harry backed away as Vernon inched nearer, his face turning a shade of blue. "Come HERE!" he yelled as he ran toward the boy.

"Eek!" Harry squeaked as he scampered out of the door into the parlor. For a couple of minutes I heard telltale cursing, crashing, and screaming. I through down the loaf of bread and walked out into the living room as Harry loped through the door.

Vernon, who was now a dark purple, said, "He's a fast little bugger." Then, "Watch out for that old lady!"

I got to the door just in time to see Harry crash into some poor old woman. Vernon and I both stood dumbfounded. Harry burst out crying, but the old woman smiled and said something to him as she stood up. I walked out alongside Vernon to her. I was thoroughly embarrassed. Just when the neighborhood had forgotten about him, he goes and crashes into a old lady.

"I am sooo sorry," I said to her when I arrived.

"You must excuse our nephew, he's...hyperactive. Yes, that's it. We usually don't let him out of the house because he always causes problems."

"It's no problem at all," she said kindly. She sighed. "It's going to be a long walk home," she said, limping away.

"Wait!," I said, jogging to her. "Please, come in. Have a cup of tea with us." Better to have her drink tea and be happy than sue us.

She thought about it for a while. Then, her face lit up. "I think I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

*

The old dame and I were sitting in the parlor, tea in hands. Vernon had taken Dudley to school and gone to work. I stayed to take care of the old woman.

"I want to apologize again," I said passing her the cream. "Ms...er"

"Figg," she said. "Mrs. Figg."

"Nice to meet you Mrs. Figg."

"Same here," she took a sip thoughtfully. "Your son-"

"He's not my son," I said quickly. "He's a nephew. Like Vernon said, he's very hyperactive. We could have gone of a vacation to Majorca by now if it wasn't for him."

"Well, if you ever need a baby-sitter, I'll be happy to do it."

I was stunned. That was exactly what I needed. Someone to throw the rascal upon when we needed time away from him. From the memory of my dreadful sister.

"That'll be great! In fact, it's Dudley's birthday next week."

"Who's Dudley?"

"He's my son," I said, becoming happier just thinking about him. "He's adorable. He has the cutest little face, and lovely blonde hair. It's like mine, only more golden."

"You were talking about his birthday."

"Right. Would you watch Harry for us then?"

"I'd be delighted to."

Then, we continued to have a lovely tea.

*

I told Vernon the news when he got home.

"That's great!" he said. "But that doesn't solve all of our problems. What are we going to do about his - er - abnormality."

"Ignore it," I said promptly.

"I don't think we should ignore this-"

"Well, I think we should. It was a freak accident. It could have happened to anyone."

"But what if it happens again?"

"Then we'll take more drastic measures."