July: So Ambitious For A Juvenile: Petunia - Grunnings

[Kyra Thatcher]

▶︎ slow down, you're doing fine

you can't be everything you want to be

before your time...

"Of course, Mr. Dursley, I'll forward them right to you when they call, unless they fancy a chat with me," Kyra said, smiling through the man's upset stammerings until he realized she wasn't being serious. Why he felt the need to instruct her on her job was beyond her, but Kyra figured that this sort of attitude was why the temp agency had called her to fill in for the receptionist position that couldn't hold an employee, even if was beyond the normal commute. The people at Grunnings took their drills very seriously, and the more power to them, really, so long as they conducted their business ethically. But they were a competitive sort, rather intense, and a mite particular. Her first week hadn't been pleasant, but a month in she had started to see some progress. Good ol' Vern had had his people call her people for that sort of tease at the start, and now he was only huffing and muttering away to his desk.

At the end of the day - and the day here ended promptly - this was a way to pay her share of the rent and food at her and Liz's place, while having time to get together with the girls to practice and perform in the evenings. She'd only been out of university for a year, after all, no one was supposed to have their whole lives planned out by now, eh? Well - maybe someone like Vernon, who she could feel graying prematurely right before her eyes, but they were the exception, not the rule, yeah? Him and Pheebs, that is, she reasoned fairly, despite the dramatic differences between the blokes here and her best friend. Phoebe's second baby was due any time now, and she and Ed had their house out of the city...

You're doing great. Comparing yourself to others gets you nowhere, and you're happy! No better place to be. Catch up on your reading, ear out for the phone...there wasn't anything else today, right?...

"Morning, love!" Kyra slid the fashion magazine nicked from Liz from her lap to the floor at the opening of the office door and the entry of a young woman. A very...put-together young woman whose travels hadn't even softened the crisp lines of her skirt. "Just pop your name and the date right here," she said, tapping the sign-in sheet with the bright blue of her nails, "and I'll get you where you need to be. Are you meeting with someone?"

[Petunia Dursley]

This was it, this was what she had been working for since she graduated. She’d finished her typing class in London, and had been applying for jobs right and left it seemed. It was difficult to be a woman in a man’s world, but Petunia knew she could carve a space for herself in it. She was surviving on her own, wasn’t she? She had a lovely roommate who was completely and utterly normal, and she had gotten a job that was completely and utterly normal. There was nothing strange around her anymore, and she was better off for it. She did miss her parents, having lived at home with them for so long, but she found that she wasn’t missing her sister as much as she thought she would. She supposed that was because she’d been missing her sister for years now, ever since they’d drifted apart due to Lily being a witch. So it was best to not think about her freak of a sister, not today. Today she had to impress.

She had dressed carefully, making sure her shirt was perfect and crisp, and that her skirt was just as perfect as her shirt. A first impression was important - perhaps the most important - and she wanted to make sure her new bosses impressed. And what if, just maybe, she met a guy at this job? She couldn’t look anything less than perfect. Dating in secondary school had been dreadful, especially when she had to keep everything about her sister a secret. There had been no bringing boys home, not over the summers or holidays when Lily was around. She didn’t want to be judged because Lily was so weird. But now? She was an adult, she was on her own, and she could date without the worry of her best kept secret from getting out.

And just perhaps this would be the job that made her parents proud of her. Oh, they were always so proud of Lily, the prefect of Hogwarts, the witch in the family. Competing against Lily was exhausting, and Petunia was quite tired of it. She was just as brilliant, just as skilled. She’d gotten high marks in school, she’d moved all by herself from Cokesworth to London, Petunia deserved their praise. She stopped in front of Grunnings, taking a moment to fix her ponytail that had come loose during travel, and entered the building. The woman who greeted her was not what Petunia had been expecting, whose fingernails were blue of all things, and Petunia had to keep herself from frowning. “It’s my first day here,” she replied smoothly, not bothering to write her name on the sign in sheet. “My name is Petunia Evans.”

[Kyra Thatcher]

Cheerful, aren't we?

Kyra couldn't blame the young woman for not radiating sunshine as she came into Grunnings for her first day. Working for a company that made and sold drills likely wasn't the dream job for many people, and the atmosphere could surely use some work. Even so, there was no need to be so dismissive right away in the morning, was there? Few positions here required you to be competitive, really only if you were into sales or management, and unless this Petunia's skin care routine was deceiving Kyra, she was freshly out of secondary school. What had brought her all the way out here to Grunnings? Petunia. Petunia Evans...right!

"You're starting with Mr. Clarke, that's it," Kyra commented, half to herself, as she flipped through the crisp manila personnel files for the one labeled Evans. She opened it up and starred a few spaces before handing the file and a pen across her desk to Petunia. "Your signature's needed on a few sheets inside, check for the stars! It's some new hire stuff, feel free to take a seat and let me - Kyra, hello hello - know if you've got any questions. We'll head over to Clarke's section once you're done, alright?"

Perhaps she was wrong and Petunia - lovely name - really was here for ambitious purpose. She'd snuck a look at her birthdate, and the Aries was bound to be a leader before long if she wasn't already. Whether that was here or out in another facet of her world was up to Petunia, of course. And while an Aries and a Pisces weren't destined for friendship (unlike her sister and herself, and the protector she had in Phoebe, and the visceral push-and-pull she had with Fabian was a story for another day), but that didn't mean a bond couldn't form if they tried. She could help Petunia relax, help contain the fire, and Petunia could help her become more disciplined...

If they tried.

"What brings you to Grunnings, Petunia?" she asked with a friendly smile.

[Petunia Dursley]

Petunia didn’t miss the look the girl behind the desk gave her, but she was choosing to ignore it. This was too important to care what a woman wearing bright blue nail polish to work thought. Maybe this wasn’t the classiest of first jobs to have, but she’d earned her right to be here. Just as she should have earned her parents respect. But not was not the time to be thinking about that, because after today she would show her family that she was just as important as her sister. Yes, maybe it was a typing job, but she was supporting herself. Wasn’t that something to share with their extended family, that she was on her own at 18. Just because she never turned frogs into teacups didn’t mean that she wasn’t worth bragging about.

She watched with one eyebrow raised as the woman in front of her flipped through some files, committing the name of her new boss to memory. Mr. Clarke, that was simple enough. She took the papers handed to her without comment, moving to sit in one of the chairs so that she could fill out the forms. Everything looked correct on them, and she checked the box marked “miss” with a smirk. She hadn’t noticed a ring on the other woman’s finger, but Petunia knew she was destined to meet her person soon. Life wouldn’t bless her with a witch for a sister unless it had something really good in store for her, right?

She was signing the papers when the woman - Kyra, was it? - spoke up, and Petunia glanced up at her. Hadn’t she already told her that she was here for a job? It wasn’t as if Petunia had picked this company because she was fascinated by drills. Still, she had to remind herself that Kyra would be one of her co-workers in this office, and that meant being polite to her at least. “I don’t know much about the company, or drills, admittedly,” she said, looking back down to the form to finish her signature, “I just finished school, and this was the first place that called me back. I mean, you probably know how hard it is to be a woman and find a job.” She felt like she was babbling now, and Petunia cleared her throat and finished the last signature. She stood and moved back to the desk, sliding the paper and pen over to Kyra with a smile, “Where could I find Mr. Clarke?”

[Kyra Thatcher]

Kyra had the distinct impression that their new coworker would not be joining them for payday drinks unless they, quite literally, carried her with them. Not everyone came, and thank goodness for that - the men were crude enough in the office itself with their nonstop drilling commentary, but she makes one joke back in kind... - but she hoped somebody could get Petunia to take her hair down. Just a little. While she understood putting on a grown-up look to try and be taken seriously, there was no need to grow up so fast. Was there? As she pressed for some more information - yes, yes, they were all here for a job, but why here? - Kyra found herself nodding in understanding before long.

"Don't worry," she assured in a genial whisper, "there's only a handful of folks who are really into it, and they are more than happy to talk the rest of our ears off about them, even when we don't need to know. All offices have their patterns and their flows if they're going to work, so as long as the rest of us do that and leave the technicals to them, everything clicks - like magic." She caught herself in a grimace - she was meant to be out in the world, not stuck amongst cubicles, and she hated that she'd been moved to enough offices to catch on to the patterns - and fixed her face. When the band takes off... "If you ever feel like a change, I'm happy to pass your information along to the temp agency I'm with," she offered in a further hush. "It's not the dream, couldn't be farther from, but it's helpful not to feel alone."

Kyra took the file and pen back from her, returning her smile as she slipped on her heels and stood. "Oh, nonsense. I need a walk, and you need a tour." She placed the Be Right Back placard - newly embellished with doodles - at the front of her desk and waved Petunia along. The maze of cubicles was efficient, allegedly, but the endless smoke and the loudmouths on the phones made her wish for proper walls. "Do you live nearby? I'm with my sister in London, lucky bugger works right in the city. For my sanity, my next gig has to be closer," she chatted as they walked, brightening as they came upon one of the women she'd become friendlier with, and made introductions. She didn't delay long - if ever someone was eager to get to work, it felt like the young woman with her - and continued on, pointing out the facilities and kitchen until she paused at a new row. "Clarke's at the end of the lane, between Dursley and Gibson. The tall one with glasses, when he can find them. Between you and me, he would lose his head if it wasn't attached, so it's been difficult between clerks. He'll be happy you're here," she assured. "Some of us take lunch outside if the weather's holding, why don't you join us later?"