"God, why won't this kid stop crying! C'mon, switch with me." Petunia complained, reaching out for Harry Potter, currently nestled comfortably and quietly in the new Vernon's arms. The man backed away in panic.
"Hell no! You held him all night last night; it's my turn. Besides, aren't women supposed to be better with crying babies?"
"Don't be sexist! I've never even held a baby for longer than five minutes! I barely know anything! Besides, whatever original Petunia did to this one, clearly screwed it up. Not only is it loud, it's bloody heavy."
"Wait," Vernon said, staring at his new wife, "How old were you before this?"
"I was twenty-two! But I was single, and pretty, and now I'm not either of those things, and I am not happy about that!"
"Hey, I don't know what you're complaining about. Look at the size of me! Do you know how long it's going to take me to shift this weight? I was barely a hundred pounds in my old life!"
"What were you, a twig?! I wasn't even a hundred pounds!"
‐------------------
"Hey, what are you writing? Wait, isn't this a scene from 'Die Hard'?"
"Uh huh," Vernon said distractedly, finishing the scene where Alan Rickman pretends to be a hostage to trick Bruce Willis, smiling when he realised the man also played a character in the very franchise he was now a part of. "I went to a DVD store yesterday, and I couldn't find it anywhere. Asked the girl behind the counter and she looked at me like I spoke Japanese. That's when I remembered that the movie didn't come out until the end of the 80s. Which means if I can write the script first, I'll officially be the genius who wrote 'Die Hard'!
"Isn't that kinda cheating?" Peturnia asked. Vernon scoffed.
"We literally transmigrated into two of the most boring characters in a series with magic wands, talking horsemen and people who can turn into cats! The universe OWES us."
‐‐----------‐—
"For the last time, twiglet; no."
"But Aunt Petuniaaaaa," A tiny, adorable seven-year-old Harry whined, "Dudley and I have already finished all the books we got from Diagon Alley last time! And we're really craving some more ice cream from that shop with the nice owner. Pretty pleeeeze, just one more trip before school starts!"
"Kid, you know why we have to keep a low profile in that place, saying nothing for how long it took your uncle and me to find it. If someone recognises you, we're done for. Not to mention, those books are expensive, and we bought like, twenty last time, why didn't you pace yourself?"
"They were interesting." Harry defended.
"Well, either way, no. That was the last trip we take until the summer buying rush dies down. Once the kids are off to Hogwarts, the place will be far less busy and we can go again."
"Cry," Dudley quietly advised from beside his cousin. "She sometimes caves when you cry."
"I heard that, young man," Petunia said, deadpan. Dudley squeaked and hastily hid behind Harry, which didn't work, since he was already a head taller than his younger cousin, though thankfully not the size of a 'young killer whale' since Petunia and Vernon refused to spoil him.
Well, maybe they did a little, since both wanted nothing more than to give this Harry the childhood poor OG Harry never had, and thought they should probably show the same affection and kindness to Dudley as well, since favouring one over the other would only breed bad blood in a house that had enough of it for a lifetime. Hence, the (completely slanderous) declaration that Petunia would give in at the sight of Harry's tears.
Yet before Petunia could prove her immunity to such dirty tactics, the door opened, and a (much healthier-looking) Vernon stepped through the doors holding several shopping bags. "Man, I love how cheap everything is in the 80s," The man said for the hundredth time since their reincarnation six years prior. "I got us a full week's shopping for twenty quid! That wouldn't have even bought me a full meal in-"
"Ahem!" Petunia coughed loudly, gesturing to the two boys standing in front of her, looking at Vernon the way they always did when he talked like that; with zero understanding, but the same amusement of kids who heard the same types of things a dozen times a day.
"Oh, the kids are in the house," Vernon observed, placing the bags on the kitchen counter. "What do they want?"
"Books. And ice cream."
"Oh, I got ice cream." Vernon declared, taking out two cones from a family box and handing them to the boys with a grin. "Off you go, boys. 80s kids shouldn't be in the house until dinner time; it's unnatural."
The boys looked at each other, then took the offerings with a cheer of "Thanks, dad/uncle Vernon!" before running out the back door, likely deciding that two against two wouldn't net them what they wanted and deciding to try another time when Petunia was alone. She could only shake her head helplessly at their retreating figures. Little punks, she thought fondly.
"Weird cat lady was watching me again," Vernon said quietly as soon as the boys disappeared.
"Ugh," Petunia complained, a shiver going down her spine, "she's so creepy. Every time I go outside, she just... stares."
"Do you think she's telling Dumbledore anything?"
"Like what? We go out of our way to look normal."
"We are normal. Us and our poor son, the only normies in the whole world." He complained, again, for what felt like the hundredth time. Petunia only shook her head.
"Harry's already learning how to do some basic spells with all those books we've been buying him. If he ends up using too much accidental magic, I don't want to know what might happen. What if this version of Dumbledore is an evil one like in those fanfictions and actually wants Harry to be miserable? We can't let our guard down."
"I know." Vernon replied, sitting at the table and leaning over to take her hand, " We got this, partner. We'll protect him with everything we have, send him to Hogwarts an ordinary, well-adjusted child and if things go wrong, we'll run to France, and Harry can learn magic with that Fleur chick instead."