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Petunia sat at a garden table with Mrs. Number 7 and Mrs. Number 2, sharing the latest gossip (Mrs. Number 12’s daughter was pregnant, and only 15, and Mr. Number 9 was sleeping with the man who mowed his lawn). She happily sipped her tea from a lovely china teacup, her eyes sly as she thought about what she knew about 2 and 7 (Mrs. Number 2 was taking her son’s adhd medication and that is why her home was always so spotless, and Mrs. Number 7 got Botox and thought no one could tell).
The waitress came by with their bills, and Petunia discreetly tucked her purse closer, you could never tell with those types, and better safe than sorry. Petunia sniffed and looked away, must she have those braids, really this is a normal neighborhood, the least the girl could do was have a normal hairstyle - but what can you expect from someone like her, they always had to push their race in everyone’s faces.
“Is there anything else I can get you ladies? Coffee or desert maybe? There is a new lemon cheesecake on the menu, and it is simply divine.” The girl held her notepad at the ready, smiling wide at each woman in turn.
Mrs. Number 2 shook her head, “Goodness no - what that wouldn’t do to my waistline!” She giggled behind her hand, and Petunia smiled at her. She never had to worry about her waist, she was always trim, unlike Mrs. 2 who counted her calories and exercised religiously.
“Alright, well I have your checks here then, take your time.” She left the billfolds on the table and turned away. Petunia tucked her card in the pocket and resumed sipping her tea as she watched her surroundings with an eagle eye. You never know when someone might do something scandalous after all.
The waitress returned for their cards and left again, while the women made small talk. After a few moments, the waitress returned, and Petunia noticed she seemed apprehensive. Her manager was hovering nearby, and Petunia wondered what the girl had done wrong.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Dursley?” The waitress spoke softly looking at one of the bills, avoiding eye contact with the women.
”Yes, girl, that is me. What seems to be the problem?”
”Well, ma’am, I am sorry but it seems this card was declined. Do you have another method of payment?”
Petunia felt mortification flood her, and her voice raised in pitch as she responded, “Excuse me, that is just not possible. You must have done something wrong!”
The girl took a deep breath and made eye contact. “I’m sorry ma’am, but I ran it three times, and it was declined three times. Do you have another method of payment?”
Petunia could feel a splotchy blush rising up her chest and neck. She dug into her wallet and pulled out her credit card. “Here. Don’t come back until you get it right.” She looked at the other two women, whose eyes were wide and calculating. Petunia knew if this didn’t get resolved it would be the talk of the neighborhood. “Absolutely ridiculous, but what can you expect from one of those people.” She rolled her eyes.
Mrs. Number 2 and Number 7 looked at each other before Number 7 spoke, “Yes, of course, she must have done it incorrectly. No one wants to work anymore. Terrible business.”
The waitress returned, her manager standing behind her. She handed both cards back to Petunia. “I’m sorry ma’am, but this was declined as well. Do you have another method of payment?”
Petunia’s mouth dropped, she could feel the flush on her face now, and it made her angry. She knew it would make her look splotchy for hours. “This is inconceivable, you must be doing something incorrectly, or your machine must be broken. The incompetence at this cafe is astounding.” She pulled cash out of her wallet handing it over, before raising her nose in the air and sniffing. “I certainly will not be patronizing this establishment again. You have lost a customer!”
The girl walked away, but Petunia caught the sight of her rolling her eyes and huffed. Absolutely disrespectful!
”Can you believe the way they treated me? I just don’t know what the world is coming too.” She shook her head sadly, as the three gathered their things to leave. She noticed the other two sharing a look and seethed internally. This would be all over the neighborhood, she just knew it.
Vernon stood in front of the bathroom mirror, straightening his tie, and making sure his suit jacket lay as nicely as it could over his girth. Deeming his appearance satisfactory, he stepped out and headed to the elevator for his meeting with his department VP. He had been working overtime, working towards a promotion as an Associate VP, so he was very excited for this meeting.
“Afternoon June, how are you doing this fine day?” He smiled in what he believed to be a charming way to the middle aged secretary. June raised a heavily penciled eyebrow before lifting the phone to her ear, “Mr. Prescott, Mr. Dursley is here for your 2 PM.” She waited a moment, then nodded, putting the phone down and nodding at Vernon to go in.
He smiled at her, tugged on his lapels, and headed into the cushy corner office.
“Good afternoon Mr. Prescott! It’s good to see you again, thank you for meeting with me.” He sat in the chair that Mr. Prescott gestured for him to sit in.
“Good afternoon Mr. Dursley. If you will be patient with me for just one moment, let me pull some paperwork for this meeting.” He rummaged in his drawer, pulling out a thin folder. “Ah, here we go. So, as you are aware, this is a performance discussion.”
Vernon beamed at Mr. Prescott. “Yes Sir! If you have my numbers there, I am sure you will agree I have been the top performer in the department for the past two years. I really think that a raise in position will allow me to train others in the strategies I utilize to improve their overall performance, thus raising the entire departments sales records.”
Mr. Prescott just hummed as he read the numbers on the paperwork in front of him.
“Mr. Dursley, I have to say I am surprised with the dissonance here. It is to your understanding that you have the top sales in the department, however what I am seeing here is that you consistently have the lowest record on the team. There have also been numerous complaints regarding how you speak with the women in the office. Unfortunately, this is not promotion meeting, its to put you on a performance improvement plan. Unfortunately, if we do not see an improvement in the next 6 months, we wlll have to consider termination of your employment.”’
Vernon sat in shock - this could not be happening. He worked hard, he brought in client after client. And he was always a gentleman with the women in his office - most were rather grandmotherly, but he was perfectly polite even with Dinah Jordan, who really dressed for attention, and he was not the only man in the office looking down her blouse or at her long legs in those short skirts. She really should dress more modestly, she was just asking for the wrong kind of attention.
“So, here I have some paperwork for you Mr. Dursley, I will need you to sign acknowledging that you received the improvement plan, and I will have your manager scheduled weekly check ins to ensure your performance improves. This will, of course, affect your mid year review, but we still have time. For improvement before end of year.
Vernon shrank into himself as he thought about his options. He couldn’t afford to alienate his boss, no matter if the complaints were bogus. He would find out how his performance was scored so low - he would bet his last dollar it was Milton, he hated Vernon.
“Yes Sir, I will make sure my performance reflects well on. The company.”
His hands shook as he signed the paperwork, and didn’t stop even when he had left the office and went back downstairs to his desk. He had earned that promotion, had bragged about it. He glanced around, hopeful that no one knew the purpose of the meeting he had just come from. While he was looking around, he noticed Toby, his biggest competition in the department, packing up his desk. His mood brightened slightly - if Toby had been sacked, this wouldn’t be the complete worst day. He hefted himself from his desk, walking over to snoop..
“You aren’t leaving us are you Toby? Shame that!”
The other man looked up over his glasses, before tugging his brown tie straighter. “Not at all. Just moving spaces.”
Vernon frowned at that, “Moving space where?”
Toby coughed into his hand, before looking down at the box he was packing. “Well, Mr. Prescott seems pleased with my work. I’ve been promoted as the new department head. I guess that means I get the corner office on this floor.“
Vernon was at a loss for words, anger filling his chest, but he tamped it down. “Right. Well, congratulations then. Surprising that -well you know. Good on you though.”
Toby watched him out of the corner of his eye, but nodded. “Thank you Vernon. I am rather happy about the move.”
”Quite so.” Vernon abruptly walked away, and before he could think too much on the consequences, grabbed his jacket and briefcase, and walked out of the office. He was too shaken up to continue today, he just wanted to sit on his sofa and have his wife make him a drink. Maybe today would be the day Dudley would take his call — he had so far not spoken to Petunia or himself in four years. Vernon turned his thoughts from that line, knowing it always made his heart beat irregularly.
He made it to the car before he slammed his hand against the steering wheel, spending the drive home cursing everyone he worked with.
Petunia fumed as she cleaned the house. She had been on the phone all afternoon with the credit card companies, and they had insisted her cards were in fact maxed out. They had frozen the accounts while they investigated identity theft, but they advised it could take years, meanwhile this was harming her credit.
She sat at the table with a glass of sherry, looking through the mail that Vernon had tossed on the counter that morning, and quickly wished she hadn’t.
Final notices for the power, car, water, and mortgage all lay before her with glaring red warnings about repossession and disconnection. Petunia sat stunned, wondering how this had happened - they had utilized the auto bill pay service that their bank provided for years, she had no idea why it would have stopped now.
The front door slammed and Vernon came stomping in, face red with irritation. Petunia took one look and got up quickly to mix him a drink. He sat on the sofa and she brought it to him, nervously twisting her apron tie, waiting for him to have a drink before bringing up the problems today.
“Vernon, some strange things have happened today.”
He looked at her sharply, “What sort of strange things?”
She sat down heavily, “Oh Vernon it was awful, I was having brunch with numbers 2 and 7, and when I went to pay, my cards were declined! It was humiliating. I spoke with the company, and they say that my credit accounts are maxed. They have frozen them to investigate identity theft, but they said it could take years, Vernon! And, just now I was looking through the mail, and it’s just awful, there must be a mistake, but we have final notices on just about everything!”
”What!!” Vernon roared, staggering up and stomping to the kitchen to see the bills. “This isn’t possible.” He grabbed the phone and dialed the bank to get balance information.
Petunia stood worriedly watching, when Vernon’s face paled drastically and he slumped into a seat.
“Pet - our account is overdrawn. There should be over ten thousand in our savings, but there is nothing - its all gone!”
Petunia shook, sitting down as well. “Well, we will just have to go to the bank to get it sorted. This is a mistake. We will get it all back.”
Vernon scrubbed a shaking hand through his hair, his face pale and sweating as he grimaced and grabbed his arm.
“Pet, call emergency” He gasped out before falling to the ground.
Mrs. Number 2 watched from behind her curtains at the commotion at Number 4. An ambulance had arrived, and two medics went inside. They were there for quite a while, before one came outside, on a mobile phone. Ten minutes later another drove up, and two more medics jumped out. They all went outside, and soon they were pushing Mr. Dursley on a stretcher - it took al of them to load him in the back. Petunia came out, hair mussed and tear stained, and they assisted her in climbing in the back of the ambulance.
Not twenty minutes after they left, a tow truck pulled up, and a gruff looking woman with a messy ponytail and cigarette popped out of the cab. She was looking at paperwork, then the vehicle in the driveway, before walking the steps and knocking on the door. After no one answered, she stuck a yellow paper in the mail slot, and went to work hooking the Dursley vehicle to the truck and towing it away.
Mrs. Number 2 watched all of this, before sitting down with the telephone and calling Number 7 to come for tea.
Penelope Garcia sat in her home office rapidly typing away, as she rerouted money from a bank account, through several others, that were then donated to women’s shelters across London. Pleased with her work when she was done, she sat back smiling, twirling a fluffy pen between her fingers.
“Baby Girl, you want Thai from that place you like tonight?” Derek Morgan asked her, stepping into her office wearing a towel, his abs still damp from his shower.
Penelope took a moment to appreciate the view before smiling and nodding at him. He walked over and cupped her cheek before kissing her gently.
“I’ll call and order then. You behaving?”
”Never.”
”Good. I love that about you.” He grinned and walked out of the room and she sighed with happiness.
Dudley Dursley stood outside a whitewashed country cottage, a trellis of roses growing on the front, with a letter in his hands. He rubbed the back of his neck and blew out a breath before looking around and speaking tentatively, “I need to send a letter?”
He waited, feeling foolish when nothing happened. He turned to go inside, at a loss on how to reach his cousin now, when a small owl flew down and perched on his shoulder.
“Oh good - great, you will take a letter for me then?” He spoke fast, relieved, then spent several long minutes trying to figure out, and finally successfully tying the letter to its leg.
“Take this to Harry Potter please.” The owl leapt off him flying off, and Dudley walked inside, anxious, but hopeful it would reach his cousin, that his cousin would respond.
”Lee? There you are. Primrose is doing it again, come see!” A petite woman with jet black hair and large brown eyes smiled up at Dudley, holding her hand out. They both walked to their three year old daughters room, where the toddler was giggling and clapping, a dozen sparking bubbles floating around her head.
“She is so talented! I hope your cousin writes back - there is so much for us to learn!” His wife Lana said with a smile.
Dudley smiled softly watching his daughter, tucking his wife under his arm. “Yeah, I hope he writes too.”