Petunia’s expensive table was fine. Mostly. She still scowled at the half-centimeter singe that could only be seen under direct light. The rest of the casting went smoother once Petunia learned to aim the charm. Within a half hour, she was surrounded by half a dozen wine glasses radiating with the light of the bluebell flames.
The act of magic had brought her no joy. Instead, an unsettling feeling had wormed its way into her gut. She snuffed out all the flames.
When Ursula returned an hour later with Dud and groceries, she huffed that there were dark streaks on far too many of the glasses, “Ma’am, please. Use one.”
Petunia watched with a frown as Ursula laid Dud down to sleep. He should have been up for a bit. Petunia found herself quickly realizing the thought she was having of Dudley. She really ought to keep that in check. Sure, she’d carried him to term, named him, and hired a nanny to care for him, but–
“Drat,” Petunia muttered, “I’m your mother, aren’t I?”
Ursula, who heard, simply gave Petunia an unamused look. As if she was saying, Who else?
Petunia gave the homely woman a wry smile.
“Ursa, be a dear and grab me some wine. I’ve had a long day.”
Ursula huffed but did so without a word, leaving a glass of sparkling wine in front of Petunia. When she took a sip, Petunia smiled. It was her favorite. Then, because Petunia of here and now was not to be accused of being a taskmaster, she gave Ursula the afternoon to herself and a wad of cash – ”You have yet to decorate your quarters, Ursa. It’s bumming me out.”
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Time passed, fall left with a gust of wind that brought winter proper, and winter melted like a snowman in central park. Then it was spring. And after, summer came once again.
Petunia had read her books and managed her magic. She had learned Ver Illious, Incendio, and Reparo. She practiced Lumos and Nox and Alohomora. She mastered Colloportus, Diffindo, and she memorized all the different variations of the above. She worked on level two spells and dabbled in level three. That was several dozen charms in only nine months. To her, though, magic did not feel magical. It felt burdensome. She had to learn, but she hated it.
So, when Ursa and Dud were out –which, if Petunia were to confess, she would say it was at her behest, she had taken to meeting other like-minded women at a local restaurant for brunches. They were non-magical, and that soothed her. They were all also disgustingly wealthy via divorce and inheritance. They were her people.
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June began with a gust of hot air coming from the balcony. Petunia had already been running the air con, so it was odd enough to draw her attention. It turned out there were a half dozen owls whose wings were forcing in the wind.
Shocked, Petunia began collecting the letters.
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Tuney,
Happy Halloween! How are you and the tyke?
Harry has decided the masks are terrifying!
Yours,
Lilypad
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Tuney,
Happy Christmas –how long is your holiday? International post is oh so finicky, I do hope I’ve found you well!
I’ve included some sweets for you and little Dudley, do tell him his Auntie wishes to meet him.
Yous,
Lilypad
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Tuney,
Happy Valentine’s! Please let me know if you’ve settled well –I’m assuming you and Vernon have settled across the pond?
Yours,
Lilypad
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Tuney,
It’s been so long. I had a friend drop by your old apartment to check on you recently, only to find you’d moved.
When I sent them to Vernon, they say he screamed about you leaving him!
I’m concerned. How do you fare? How is Dudley?
I am worried.
Yours,
Lilypad
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Petunia,
I’m worried. Please let me know you’re all right.
Yours,
Lily
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The final letter had a very formal-looking seal, and Petunia chose to wait to read it until she’d sent Lily Potter a missive. A very short missive that hopefully would get her to leave her be.
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Lily,
I’ve left Vernon, that’s true. And I’ve settled in the States. Please don’t concern yourself with my reasoning –it’s rather complicated and muggle. I’m afraid you wouldn’t understand.
Best,
Petunia
P.S. Dud is fine. Here’s a photograph. Muggle, of course, so don’t go expecting it to move.