Waking Up in Petunia - The Survival Plan
Veronica—no, Petunia—sat in the small, dimly lit room that now felt like a prison. Her head throbbed with the weight of this new reality. Her body felt alien, and her mind was a whirlwind of panic and confusion.
She could hear the muffled sounds of her family downstairs—her mother, her father, her sister—all in the next room. She was supposed to be their daughter, supposed to be their sister. But she was Veronica, a 30-year-old accountant from 2025, now trapped in a little girl's body in the 1970s.
How the hell did this happen?
She had to think. She had to survive this.
The first thing she did was look for a pen and paper. It wasn’t easy; the room was full of unfamiliar things. But after searching through the drawers of an old-fashioned writing desk, she found a pencil and a scrap of paper. She laid the paper flat on her lap and began scribbling furiously.
List for Survival:
Establish my age.
- I was born in the 90s, so I should be in my early 30s in this world, right? No, wait.
- If this is the 1970s, I should be about 8–10 years old. That means my age here doesn't match my memories. So I need to figure out exactly when I am.
- Based on my memories of Harry Potter, it seems to be around the end 1960s.
- Harry Potter was born in 1980, which means he’s not born yet, but will be soon. I’m probably just a kid right now.
Memory check.
- I need to organize everything I know about Harry Potter—the timeline, the characters, the events. Everything is different now. I need to figure out how much time I have before things start happening in this world.
- The books are essential, but I have to remember this isn’t a fictional world anymore. It’s real. The Dursleys live in the real world, and I’m part of it.
- Need to research every single thing that can help me navigate this world, from the wizarding world (when it starts emerging) to Muggle life in the 60s. How did people live back then? How do I even survive without the internet, smartphones, or modern conveniences?
Avoid being Petunia.
- Petunia Dursley doesn’t have the most exciting future, and she’s not someone I want to become. I have to make sure I don't fall into her patterns, especially the way she treated Harry. I don’t want to get married. I don’t want kids.
- In this era, women are expected to marry and have children—not me.
- I need to focus on being independent. No one needs to know that I’m from the future, but I need to figure out a way to carve out my own path in this world without falling into the traditional female roles.
Career Plan: Be successful without marriage or children.
- I need a career that allows me to live independently and thrive without relying on a husband. Accountant? Absolutely Not being there and done that but that doesn't mean I cant use all the knowledge and skill I gain as an accountant.
- But I don’t know anything about the job market in the 1970-80s. I need to research. I need to start thinking about how to build a career with the skills I have. How do I even get a job in this time?
- The world is changing, but I can’t let go of my knowledge of accounting. If anything, it’ll be an edge.
Social Life / Avoid Marriage Traps.
- No dating, no marriage. I’ll keep my distance from anyone who wants to “set me up” or expects me to find a partner.
- I need to find out what is expected of girls my age in this time. I have to blend in, but without becoming part of the system.
- Friends are useful for learning about the social dynamics, but I must avoid getting too attached. I need control over my own life, my own choices.
Historical Research: How the hell do I survive the 1970s?
- I’m from the 90s, and I know nothing about the 1970s.
- I need to understand everything—fashion, language, social norms, technology. Everything.
- I need books. I need to learn what people in my situation were expected to do. How did people live without computers or cell phones? How did the economy work?
- What was the job market like for women? Did women work in business at all? Was that even a career for women back then?
Start saving money.
- I’ll need a stash of cash. If I don’t know how to make money in the traditional ways of this time, I’ll need to find a way to make a living.
Veronica paused, her hand trembling as she held the pencil. This was her life now, and she needed a plan. She needed to be strategic.
Her stomach churned as she thought about the strange, painful reality of living in the body of Petunia Evans because she rather die than live as Petunia Dursley. She wasn’t sure how to feel about it yet. The idea of being part of the family that would one day reject Harry Potter made her sick to her stomach. But she couldn’t let that define her. She needed to control this narrative.
And the first step was getting her age right. From the faint memories of the Harry Potter timeline, she guessed it was somewhere in the 1960s—before the major events of the wizarding world began.
But what year was it? How old was she really in this world? Veronica needed to find a way to calculate it.
She closed her eyes and tried to focus on everything she knew.
Harry was born in 1980. He was 11 in 1991 when he went to Hogwarts. That means the timeline starts to shift in the early 80s. If I’m 8-10 now, it’s 1966-1968.
A sinking feeling crept over her. She’d have to play the part of a child for the next several years in this body. But if she could wait it out, she’d be free to make her move once she was old enough.
But for now, Veronica would have to live in the world of the Evans, surrounded by the mundane, the small details of life that felt so foreign to her. She needed to learn quickly, adapt faster. No more hiding. No more dreaming. She needed to survive in this world—this world of Harry Potter—even if she hated it.
The clock was ticking, and there was no time to waste.
Veronica—Petunia—stared blankly at the small piece of paper she had scribbled her survival plan on. She had been so desperate to establish some kind of control over her new life, but as the minutes ticked by, she realized how much of a joke it was. Who was she kidding?
She couldn’t be a child. She didn’t even remember much of her own childhood. All she knew was the endless grind of adulthood—work, responsibilities, deadlines, bills. There was no room for playing make-believe in this new world, not when everything felt so wrong.
And even if she had been able to remember her childhood, it didn’t matter. It wasn’t hers. Not anymore. The body she now occupied was 8 to 10 years old, and Veronica had to make peace with that. She was going to have to pretend, but it didn’t mean she had to like it.
And with a magical little sister like Lily—who would one day be sorted into Hogwarts—she wasn’t sure what was more real: the normal world she had known, or the magical chaos that seemed to surround this strange family. She had no idea how this world would eventually unfold, but normal seemed so far removed from everything she now knew.
Blending in would be her only option, but that didn’t mean she had to embrace it.
Her mind kept wandering back to her parents—the Evans. They were so kind, so soft. She could tell they loved their children, even if she felt like a foreign presence in their home. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. These were the parents of the girl she was now inhabiting, and they didn’t know the truth.
They lost their eldest daughter Petunia, Veronica thought bitterly, her heart aching with an empathy she wasn’t sure how to express. They will lost Lily to magic and didn’t even know it. All they had left was Veronica-Petunia.
It felt like a cruel irony. The parents who will poured their hearts into raising a magical child would never know their youngest will die due to that world. And she, Petunia, now had to play the part of the non-magical sister—a sister who would be overshadowed by Lily’s magical brilliance. There was no way she could pretend to be the perfect, normal girl her parents expected. Not when they didn’t even know what normal meant.
She took a deep breath, leaning back in the chair.
Focus. Just focus.
If she was going to survive in this world, she had to work with what she had. The next few years would pass in a blur of school days and awkward social situations. In a couple of years, Lily would turn 11 and go off to Hogwarts, leaving Petunia behind in the “normal” world—a world she didn’t want any part of, but would have to stay in for a long time.
The Three R’s, Veronica thought bitterly. Reading, writing, and arithmetic. That’s all they taught in school, right? Simple stuff, stuff she already knew, but here, it would be a reminder of how little she belonged.
She had no interest in making friends, no interest in fitting in. And certainly, no interest in the social expectations that came with being a girl in this time. She wasn’t going to marry. She wasn’t going to have children. The very thought made her skin crawl.
She would just get through it. School, the mundane days of growing up. And then—when the time came—she’d make her move.
Maybe she would find a way into business and making money, or some other line of work that would let her carve out her own path. But she couldn’t be in this house forever. She had to get out.
But there were things she hadn’t counted on.
As the days passed, Veronica found herself more and more intrigued by her surroundings. The Evans' house was quaint but cozy. The way Mrs. Evans doted on her—on Petunia—was strange and unfamiliar. She wasn’t used to being pampered like this, but it was comforting. Sometimes, Mrs. Evans would hum softly while doing the dishes, or talk to Petunia as though she were the most important thing in the world.
It was all so foreign. So normal.
The pressure to blend in grew stronger. Pretend to be a child. Pretend you belong here. But as the days passed, the weight of the reality hit harder. She was not supposed to be here. Her life, her future, had been left behind in a world that now felt far, far away. And yet, she couldn’t escape it. Not now. Not ever.
And then there was Lily. Veronica hadn’t interacted with her much yet, but she was aware of the magic that swirled around her. Little Lily Evans, the future witch—the one who would one day go to Hogwarts. That would be the day everything changed for the Evans family. They would lose their youngest daughter to the wizarding world, and their lives would never be the same.
The thought gnawed at her. How could she just sit back and pretend nothing was wrong? She felt a pang of jealousy, an emotion she couldn’t name, stirring inside her. Lily’s life will be full of magic, full of wonder and adventure, Veronica thought bitterly. But I’ll never have that. I’ll never be the one to go to Hogwarts. I’ll always be the normal one, the one left behind.
Still, Veronica couldn’t afford to let herself become consumed by jealousy or resentment, that's was Petunia character setting, Veronica was her own person this world plot will not change who she is, she would have love to have magic but it wasn't meant to be. It wouldn’t do her any good. In this world, she had to bide her time, learn everything she could, and figure out how to fit in—or at least, how to survive.
The next morning, Veronica went downstairs for breakfast, trying to ignore the strange sinking feeling in her stomach. Mrs. Evans was bustling around the kitchen, humming a tune as she set the table. It was such a peaceful, normal scene that Veronica couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss. This was a life she had never had, but now, it was hers.
“Good morning, Petunia!” Mrs. Evans said brightly, as if there was nothing at all strange about the situation. “Sleep well?”
Veronica nodded, trying her best to act like a child would. “Yes, Mum,” she said, her voice barely audible as she took her seat at the table.
Mr. Evans glanced over, his eyes twinkling with a warmth she couldn’t ignore. “Did you have any dreams, Petunia? Anything interesting?”
She hesitated. How could she explain the strange, impossible truth? How could she tell them she wasn’t really their daughter? That she didn’t belong here?
“No, just… just the usual stuff,” Veronica lied. “I think I’m just tired.”
Mrs. Evans smiled gently. “Well, don’t worry. You’re growing up so fast, darling. School will be good for you. You’ll see.”
It was the same kind of talk every parent gave to their child. It was comforting, in a way, but also heartbreaking. Veronica knew that in a few years, things would change. The world of magic would collide with her reality in ways she couldn’t yet fathom.
And she wasn’t sure if she was ready for it.
She wasn’t ready for anything, really.
But all she could do now was survive. And try to blend in.
Pretend she belonged.