For the first time, Petunia came to blows with Ursula. Verbal, of course, Petunia wasn’t a barbarian.
“No. No help.” She said, in her stilted accent, her eyes hard as she looked at her employer.
“Excuse you?” Petunia hissed, “Why not?”
“Because. You bad. No skill.”
Petunia was speechless!
“It’s Christmas! I can make whatever I so please. I pay your check!”
And then Ursa grabbed Petunia by her elbows and dragged her out of the kitchen.
“No. I make.”
Petunia grumbled. It’s been three and a half years since the Ursula came on now, and she’s caught Petunia being freakish many times over —but she’s said nothing and made no comments. Petunia truly appreciated it. But now she wanted to practice some of her cooking charms! And Ursa wouldn’t even let her in the kitchen!
The boys were playing together in the nursery. As far as anyone’s told them they are brothers. No need to make it confusing. This year, the Evans household threw a single party for both boys smack dab between their births —right on July 12th. As far as they were concerned they were fraternal twins. Both had turned three and were barreling around like monstrosities.
Mr. Farnsworth had even come to the party —bringing with him the two underlings Petunia had met. Over the past two years, his predatory vibe had rather grown on Petunia and he’d proven himself perfectly capable of being appropriate whenever she needed a normal birth certificate for Harry, or access to the Upper East Side’s magical district, or that time she needed to find the local Gringotts. They weren’t in a relationship by any means, Petunia had no interest in that, but dare she say they were friends. He was even helping her find a curse breaker for that dreadful scar on Harry’s forehead.
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Even the two underlings —Lyla Maureen and Prim Staples— had grown close to the new witch. And while they were still rather anti mundane life —mundane because Petunia refused to debase herself by uttering the words muggle or no-maj anymore than she absolutely had to— they blended in with her friends well enough.
Anyway, she wanted to try her hand at an entirely magical meal, but the mean bat wouldn’t let Petunia in her own kitchen. It was whatever, honestly, because Petunia did love Ursa’s cooking. As did the boys.
“Dud! Harry! Come to me!” Petunia swayed into the nursery right as the two boys were tackling each other.
“Mom!” They shouted in unison.
Perhaps it was wrong of Petunia to take over for Lily like this. Perhaps she should have set clearer boundaries and not allowed Harry to call her mom. But Petunia thought it was rather preferable to sticking him in a cupboard and calling him a freak himself, so she decided the dead can haunt her if they have a problem.
She gathered the boys in her arms, one on each side. Dud was larger than Harry —but only by a smidge! But the two boys could not be more different. Dud was so brave and outgoing, and rather cherub like if Petunia said so herself —with his curly blonde hair and blue eyes. Harry however was rather small for his age but quite cunning —always able to finagle what he wanted from Dudley with some babbling toddler nonsense, and his jet black hair and green eyes made him look rather, well, not menacing, because Harry is but a toddler, but he looked drastic and intense. Petunia quite found herself soft for both of them.
“Oh, my boys, tell me! Tell me your dreams and desires —I’ll make them all come true.” Petunia cooed as she nuzzled the boys.
Her boys.