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crack_van2011-08-29 10:41 pm
perverse-idyll.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2011-08-29 10:41 pm
Entry tags:
Fostering Witch-Muggle Understanding by slytherite (PG-13)
Fandom: HARRY POTTER
Pairing: Hestia Jones/Petunia Dursley
Length: 13,848
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
slytherite
Author Website: slytherite on fanfiction.net
Why this must be read:
This is one of the more charming fics I've read this year. The authorial voice – or rather, the POV of Hestia Jones, Sapphist, witch, member of the Order, and Dursley bodyguard in a cottage by the sea – is quirky, humorous, self-deprecating, and full of marvelous, off-kilter internal commentary. Hestia's an eccentric even by wizarding standards, and throwing her together with the Dursleys could have created a matter/anti-matter reaction. But in fact this fic maintains its puckish good humor even as Hestia falls for Petunia in spite of herself – in spite of Petunia, for that matter. The fic demonstrates that Petunia is smarter than her husband, sexually frustrated, and ready for a change, although part of the reason Petunia changes is because she doesn't have to; Hestia cheerfully accepts that this interesting Muggle with the lacquered hair will always be snippy, duty-bound, uncharitable, and narrow-minded. Somewhat mischievously, she plies Petunia with picnics at the beach and illegal flights on a magic carpet, and the hopeful, even hedonist side of the suburban matron peers out, suspicious, starved for fun, and not entirely unwilling to be seduced.
The story rambles in fits and starts through their blossoming relationship, but the unpredictable ponderings and second thoughts and chessboard conversations and doleful consequences are all part of its charm. You never know what Hestia, with her rather flexible attitude toward spiking the tea and sleeping with married ladies, will think of next. The prose is inventive, amused, delightful in its details, sunny and tart and sweet-tempered all at once. The war is far away, and Petunia's mid-life crisis has found an outlet in a witch twenty years her senior, one able to see the beauty in starchy, repressed, late-blooming divorcées who can finally make their peace with magic.
~~*~~
"That wand business," said Vernon over supper several nights later, as Petunia poured him his third brandy of the evening. "I've got an idea about it."
Hestia speared a kipper, frowning. "Do tell."
"It's all--" He waved his hands vaguely. "Thingummy."
"Glad we've got that cleared up," said Hestia.
"Freudian," Petunia said clearly, prodding Vernon with the end of her fork.
Vernon nodded. "That. Very suspicious. What with all those--" He squinted down the length of his knife, grasped it in one beefy palm, and began pumping his fist. Hestia cocked her head; it didn't look like a recognizable Earth gesture from that angle, either.
"Broomsticks," said Petunia, shuddering.
Hestia nodded, hoping that Petunia would read from her silence that she didn't know Freud from fritters.
"And those ridiculous getups your men wear."
"He thinks you're all queers," said Petunia, sipping her own brandy. "Not that you are, of course. At the rate you breed. And you marry so young." She sniffed. "All shotgun weddings, of course."
This was further fritters to Hestia, but the rest was enough to make her groan. It was as if Petunia had drawn all her information--and truth be told, there was information underlying the certainty in her eyes--from Hestia's great-aunt in the very twilight of her dotage. Hestia held up her own glass at an angle exposing her unadorned ring finger whilst gesturing to every crow's-foot on her face; Petunia jerked irritably, apparently unwilling to admit that she got the point very well.
"But you have--those sorts?"
"Oh, yes," said Hestia blithely. "We burn them at the stake in the colder winters."
Petunia snorted bubbles into her brandy. Vernon, to Hestia's lasting horror, nodded and smiled.
Fostering Witch-Muggle Understanding
Pairing: Hestia Jones/Petunia Dursley
Length: 13,848
Author on LJ:
slytheriteAuthor Website: slytherite on fanfiction.net
Why this must be read:
This is one of the more charming fics I've read this year. The authorial voice – or rather, the POV of Hestia Jones, Sapphist, witch, member of the Order, and Dursley bodyguard in a cottage by the sea – is quirky, humorous, self-deprecating, and full of marvelous, off-kilter internal commentary. Hestia's an eccentric even by wizarding standards, and throwing her together with the Dursleys could have created a matter/anti-matter reaction. But in fact this fic maintains its puckish good humor even as Hestia falls for Petunia in spite of herself – in spite of Petunia, for that matter. The fic demonstrates that Petunia is smarter than her husband, sexually frustrated, and ready for a change, although part of the reason Petunia changes is because she doesn't have to; Hestia cheerfully accepts that this interesting Muggle with the lacquered hair will always be snippy, duty-bound, uncharitable, and narrow-minded. Somewhat mischievously, she plies Petunia with picnics at the beach and illegal flights on a magic carpet, and the hopeful, even hedonist side of the suburban matron peers out, suspicious, starved for fun, and not entirely unwilling to be seduced.
The story rambles in fits and starts through their blossoming relationship, but the unpredictable ponderings and second thoughts and chessboard conversations and doleful consequences are all part of its charm. You never know what Hestia, with her rather flexible attitude toward spiking the tea and sleeping with married ladies, will think of next. The prose is inventive, amused, delightful in its details, sunny and tart and sweet-tempered all at once. The war is far away, and Petunia's mid-life crisis has found an outlet in a witch twenty years her senior, one able to see the beauty in starchy, repressed, late-blooming divorcées who can finally make their peace with magic.
"That wand business," said Vernon over supper several nights later, as Petunia poured him his third brandy of the evening. "I've got an idea about it."
Hestia speared a kipper, frowning. "Do tell."
"It's all--" He waved his hands vaguely. "Thingummy."
"Glad we've got that cleared up," said Hestia.
"Freudian," Petunia said clearly, prodding Vernon with the end of her fork.
Vernon nodded. "That. Very suspicious. What with all those--" He squinted down the length of his knife, grasped it in one beefy palm, and began pumping his fist. Hestia cocked her head; it didn't look like a recognizable Earth gesture from that angle, either.
"Broomsticks," said Petunia, shuddering.
Hestia nodded, hoping that Petunia would read from her silence that she didn't know Freud from fritters.
"And those ridiculous getups your men wear."
"He thinks you're all queers," said Petunia, sipping her own brandy. "Not that you are, of course. At the rate you breed. And you marry so young." She sniffed. "All shotgun weddings, of course."
This was further fritters to Hestia, but the rest was enough to make her groan. It was as if Petunia had drawn all her information--and truth be told, there was information underlying the certainty in her eyes--from Hestia's great-aunt in the very twilight of her dotage. Hestia held up her own glass at an angle exposing her unadorned ring finger whilst gesturing to every crow's-foot on her face; Petunia jerked irritably, apparently unwilling to admit that she got the point very well.
"But you have--those sorts?"
"Oh, yes," said Hestia blithely. "We burn them at the stake in the colder winters."
Petunia snorted bubbles into her brandy. Vernon, to Hestia's lasting horror, nodded and smiled.
Fostering Witch-Muggle Understanding
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I can't get the Insane Journal link to work. :(
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Here's the link on Dreamwidth: http://hp-beholder.dreamwidth.org/16036.html
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Thanks! I'm reading it on FFN right now. LOL
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Hestia falls for Petunia in spite of herself – in spite of Petunia, for that matter.
Yes, precisely!
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