Being Petunia Dursley

A month had passed since the bread incident. I was a bit more nervous than I was before it happened, but since the weeks passed without any interruptions from Harry's abnormality my worries dissipated. After all, just because something weird happened doesn't mean he'll turn out like his parents. I hoped with all my heart that it didn't mean he would mess up my plans for the weekend.

After years of crafty avoidance, I was finally hosting another tea party. Before Harry came along, I was the reigning queen of tea parties. I'm not even bragging. I won the Tea Party Hostess of the Year award from the Privet Drive Tea Ladies Association three years in a row. Whenever I hosted, I would decorate the parlour with my certificates, just to rub it in my guests' faces. Of course, I would never mention them. I may be a bit of a show off, but I'm still tactful.

I had everything meticulously planned out. I wanted this to be my triumphant comeback. Everything had to be perfect.

The party would be held on Friday at noon. That way, Dudley and my nephew would still be in kindergarten and Vernon would be at work. While the guests trickled in, I would serve buttermilk scones and milk. Soon, the guests would arrive and we would began to talk about children and their schools, our husbands, and upcoming Privet Drive Tea Ladies events. I would then serve the main course: tea smoked salmon and upland cress sandwiches accompanied with perfect English tea. Devonshire cream would be handy throughout the activities. I would top it all off with passion fruit meringue tartlets and see everyone off.

The very next day, Saturday, was Dudley's birthday. We were going to take him to see a movie. From what I've heard, it's a very violent movie. But Vernon convinced me that six is a good age to begin seeing violence. ("Should know how to defend himself against the freaks of today...") However, that's not the actual reason we're taking him to see it. The movie that Dudley wanted to see was about witches and wizards. When I told him no, it looked like he was going to cry. I know how sensitive Duddy can be, so I told him we could see this violent one. I just hope he doesn't become a brute.

It was going to be a family event. Vernon, Dudley, and I would go together, along with Dudley's best friend Piers. We invited Vernon's sister Marge to come (she came last year), but she couldn't bear to leave her precious dogs unattended. Harry, of course, will be with Mrs. Figg. Even though I was almost positive nothing anomalous would happen, I couldn't risk something bad ruining my Duddey-uddey's birthday. In fact, just last year Harry started crying because he thought Marge was hitting him with her walking stick so he would lose at musical chairs. You would think that he would accept the fact that he just wasn't as good as Dudley. He's just like his mother...

First, I would fix Dudley his favorite breakfast: French toast with cinnamon, fried eggs, home-fried potatoes, bacon, and chocolate milk. Then he would open his birthday presents. There were five from me: a television, three books, and a toy train. There were five from Vernon: a computer, three computer games, and a parrot. Marge was sending three presents, I don't know exactly what.

After Dudley fiddled with his toys for a while, Piers would arrive. Piers was a dear little boy he met at kindergarten. Dudley said that Piers helped him get milk money from other children. The clever boys probably have some type of business going. Now that I think about it, their teacher wanted to schedule a meeting about that...But I'm trying to avoid it. At our last meeting, he said that I should spend more time teaching Dudley how to read instead of feeding him. And the way he said it to me! It's not like Dudley was huge; he was only 41 kilograms (90 lbs). That's less than I weigh. Maybe he did have a little baby fat, but he was only five. Besides, what did he know? He's a kindergarten teacher, and a male one at that. I bet he's a pansy.

At any rate, Vernon and I would take the boys to the movies after Mrs. Figg picked Harry up. She walks to our house because it's only two streets away. I, however, think it's just too far from a woman that old to walk. I told her to drive but she said she never learned how. She said her people traveled a different way. I asked her what she meant and she said she was American. I told her she should be thankful she got rid of that awful accent.

After the movie was over, we'd get ice cream and drop Piers off. We would go back home, have birthday cake and watch television together. Harry would come home, and we would all go to bed. On Sunday, we would rest. On Monday, everything would go back to normal.

Everything would be perfect.

*

"Hello Petunia," Alice Stackpole said, kissing me on both cheeks. Actually, she was kissing the air in the general area of my cheekbone. But that's okay. That's what I do to her.

"Hi Alice. I see you still have that lovely garden gnome in your yard," I said, putting on my best smile. "It's very...classy."

"Yes. Just as classy as that charming frock you're wearing today," said she with pseudo-sincerity.

I opened my mouth to retort, but then-

"Petunia!" Beverly Beckham waltzed through my door. "How are you darling?" she sighed, kissing me on the cheek. However, she actually kissed me on the cheek. That's the thing I never liked about Beverly. She has a certain...je ne sais pas quoi.

"That's a lovely dress dear," said Beverly. "It complements your figure so much. I wish I was as thin as you are!" That's exactly what I mean. She said it without a hint of sarcasm.

"Well some of us aren't as blessed as others," I said. "For instance, you know that ugly little house on the corner?"

"You mean the one with no grass on the lawn?" Beverly asked earnestly.

"You would think they would spend a few extra pounds after they did all of the work on the house."

"Well anyway," I said, bringing the attention back to me. "I heard that the reason why they didn't put down grass is because they can't afford it."

"How sad," Beverly said as Alice said, "Bringing down our property value, they are."

"I know," said I, agreeing to both. "The reason why is because they spent so much money working on the rest of the house. I guess it costs less to work in France than here." No one else knew they were French.

"They're FRENCH?" both ladies said, gasping. Just the reaction I had anticipated.

"Yes. In fact, I invited her over to this tea party. I'm thinking about having her as my own personal Privet Drive Pledge." Again, gasps. "Scones anyone?" I said, presenting a silver platter.

Yes, this party was turning out exactly how I wanted it to.

*

Pretty soon, all nineteen members of the Privet Drive Ladies Association were sitting in my parlour eating buttermilk scones and sweet milk, chatting the time away. I had already told everyone about our special French guest, so we were waiting for them to arrive.

Ring, my phone said. I excused myself and walked over to the hall. I paused as I looked in the mirror above the phone. I looked positively smashing. I had the glowing look of a perfect day.

"Hello," I said sweetly. "May I ask who is calling?"

It turned out to be the school secretary. As it turns out, today was a half day. School was over at 12:30. It was already past 1:00. I had to go get them. I told the secretary I'd be there in a second.

I went to the parlour and told the Ladies a fib about looking for the French woman and went to go get the boys.

*

"Don't mess up anything Harry. Do you understand me?" I yelled. I noticed my voice was a bit higher than usual. "I don't want you to do anything like what happened with the bread."

"But I didn't do it on purpose-" started Harry.

"Don't give me that! Just make sure it doesn't happen again. Now I want you to stay outside. Understand me?"

He nodded in agreement. I instructed Dudley to serve the salmon and cress sandwiches. Dudley went around the back to the kitchen door. Harry headed in that direction too, but I'm sure he was going to the backyard. I began walking to the front door when I heard -

"Bonjour! Um...'ello. My name iz Joselle Vendredi. I am 'ere for ze party tea."

"Good! I'm Petunia..." I explained what the Privet Drive Ladies were about

I was happy again. Everything was back in order. Harry was hidden, Dudley was about to show them that I had the cutest little angel for a son, and I was going to show off my French Pledge. Yes, I was going to be the queen of tea parties again. And I would rub it in the other Ladies faces again.

Of course, I had spoken too soon. What I saw when I opened the door turned my "happy" mode off. But I should have known.

Nothing in my life is ever perfect.