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December, 1978
This wasn't what Petunia had in mind when she brought up the subject.
She and Daisy had been eating dinner together and chatting lightly when she decided to mention it.
"So... I found myself a boyfriend," she said, aiming for casual but kind of failing. Honestly, she told herself, I'm twenty-two years old, I should not be this scared of what my sixteen-year-old sister thinks of my boyfriend.
She could feel Daisy's gaze on her, piercing and- was that dread? Oh god, it had to be. She watched as the horrified expression on Daisy's face changed to a grimace, followed by an uneasy smile.
"Oh?" inquired Daisy, seemingly nonchalant. "What's his name?"
"Vernon Dursley," answered Petunia. Surely Daisy could not find anything wrong with just… his name, right? Could she?
It seemed like she could, though. As the last syllable left her mouth, Daisy's expression soured. It was a little disturbing to watch, actually. Daisy was always so sweet…
"Oh?" said Daisy again.
"Er, yes," stammered Petunia, "I was actually thinking about inviting him here. To meet you, that is. Er, and maybe Mom and Dad."
Daisy leaned forward. "Really? I'd really like that…" she paused, her eyes lit up, and she continued, completely unaware of the murderous vibes her sister was getting from her: "Maybe it would be better if I met him first. You know how busy our parents can be… I don't really want to wait that long."
Yeah, Petunia had a really bad feeling about this…
It was only a week after that that Petunia stood on the doorstep of her family house with Vernon slightly behind her and Daisy greeting them both.
She took Vernon's hand to shake. Even Petunia could see that the grip was too tight. "Hello! You're Vermin, right? Petunia told me so much about you!"
Oh no, thought Petunia.
Something flashed in Vernon's eyes. "Actually, it's Vernon. Vernon Dursley."
Daisy just smiled, showing way too many teeth. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm pretty terrible with names, -" Liar, liar, pants on fire, Petunia thought sourly, "- I hope you'll forgive me, -" here, Daisy laughed the most fake laugh she had that had Petunia fighting down a wave of dread and fright, "- I am just a girl after all."
And Vernon, somehow blind to all of this (seriously, is he actually blind? There's no way to miss this. Even a blind person would notice that something is not right, surely?), takes off his shoes and changes into the most obnoxiously pink slippers Daisy could have found for him.
Seriously, Petunia prepared one pair for him right next to the shoe cabinet. Closer inspection showed her that those had mysteriously vanished. Petunia shot a glare in her sister's direction but Daisy turned around and pretended not to notice.
"Oh, it's no problem. I know how absentminded girls can be," replied Vernon and now Petunia looked at him in mild shock. This went unnoticed by him, though Daisy, who could suddenly see her now that she wasn't being glared at, smirked at her and gave her a pointed look. See what you brought home?
They continued into the dining room, where Petunia had to fight off the urge to gag (and laugh hysterically) when she discovered that Daisy replaced their holiday decorations with that of a six-year-old girl's birthday party. A girly six-year-old girl's birthday party. With lots of pink and lots of glitter.
"So, what do you do?" Daisy asked, acting (terribly, might Petunia add) innocent, like a naive little girl.
"Well, I work for this company, - Grunnings, it's called, - where we make drills."
"Oh, do forgive my asking, but what are drills? I hope you don't find my question silly…" said Daisy, batting her eyelashes.
"Oh, please, there's nothing to forgive. A man can't expect a lady to know such things," was the response, and Vernon started talking about drills and Petunia was left reeling.
The next hour continued in a similar fashion. Daisy called Vernon Vermin or some other variation of his name, apologised, and then tripped him up to slip in some comments about the uselessness of women, basically. She was slowly adding pressure, nodding and laughing and even giggling, until the conversation somehow turned to how women should only be allowed to care for the house and children.
"Honestly, I don't know what I'd do if I had a daughter. Son? Yes, of course. But a daughter would be just a burden."
Petunia kind of wanted to kill him.
Daisy just grinned at him sweetly, her eyes narrowed in fury. "Oh, right, yes, I understand completely. I mean, at least she could cook, but…"
"No," Vernon shook his head, "it's not worth all the trouble. I'd say, if I had a daughter, lock her in her room, that'd teach her!"
And this made Daisy growl: "Right."
She was not smiling anymore. However unnerving her fake smile had been, the sudden glare was frightening. "You would, wouldn't you?"
"What?" said Vernon, finally comprehending that something was wrong.
"Oh, just that you'd definitely be that scumbag of a father that locks a kid in a cupboard under the stairs, treats them worse than the dirt on his shoes and beats them just because he feels like it."
Vernon, trying to recover from the sudden whiplash, immediately got on the defensive. "What do you mean? I'd never do that!"
Daisy snorts. "Wouldn't you?"
And then she grabs his glass and splashes him with the beer he'd been drinking.
Vernon's face gets red in a record time.
He starts shouting insults, some of them jabs at her gender, some of them jabs at her intelligence, and Petunia has had enough.
"Get out of here!" she screeches.
When he looks at her, as if confused about why she's shouting at him and not Daisy, she raises her voice even more if such a thing is possible and screams: "Get out of here right now! And see to it that I don't get a glimpse of your stupid face or I'll break it!"
Maybe, in another life, she would have been content to live a life of a perfect little house-wife, but this was not that life, and she was very much not okay with men who look down on women and scream at their baby sisters.
And as Petunia shut the door behind him with a loud slam, she could have sworn she heard Daisy whisper maliciously: "Goodbye forever, dear uncle."