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Rated: E · Interactive · Erotica · #1941494

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Chapter #4

Petunia Dursley

    by: Zolgaroth Author IconMail Icon
The hard-nosed, authoritative matriarch of the Dursley family was currently in the lounge of the Dursley home, sipping on a cup of freshly brewed tea, no thanks in part to her accursed nephew. Oh, how she had resented his existence. Just the thought of him shifted her pleasant mood into one of displeasure.

What people were quick to assume is that Petunia despised her nephew for existing. While yes, at times the Potter boy could be a significant nuisance to her, Petunia did not hate him. Rather, she hated his magical abilities. It reminded her of all that she was not; special. Petunia desired the attention that her sister recieved. Oh, how she remembered how she was tossed to the side like some worthless plaything by her parents, as they proceeded to swoon and dote on their Houdini of a daughter. That was why she loathed her nephew. Not because he existed, but because he was everything Petunia wanted to be.

Therefore, Petunia thought it was almost poetic justice when the scarred babe was left upon her doorstep. If she could not have the life she wanted, then Petunia would do everything in her power to prevent Harry from becoming a 'wizard'.

Just the thought of him going to that ridiculous academy, being taught blasphemous magic tricks by crackpots and mentally ill codgers left a sour taste in her mouth. Just the idea of him mingling with those cantankerous and abhorrent witches sent a shiver down her spine. How she had wished she and Vernon could have done better to prevent Harry from learning about his 'wizard' lineage.

Planting her half-empty tea cup on its matching saucer, Petunia scowled, crossing her legs and holding her weathered head on her hand, drumming her digits against her jaw, which was locked in a permanent, stern expression.

"That damn boy.." Petunia uttered under her breath. "If only he had listened to us, maybe none of this would have ever happened.." Petunia began to ponder aloud, as her cherry-pink nails scratched at her temples. "It was so simple then when he was a little whelp! But now he-" Petunia stopped herself.

"When...he was..a baby.." Petunia whispered the sentence again, her stern scowl growing into a wide grin. She had just the method to make sure that her magical nephew would no longer attend to that magical school of mischief. A way to make sure that he would become the perfect child that Petunia and Vernon so desperately wanted and tried to shape.

But first, she needed that boy. Luckily, that brat was lying down upstairs.

Petunia...
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