Author's Note: Disclaimer! I don't own any of this – J. K. R. does! I just kind of . . . arranged the wording and stuff.
You’ll Always Be My Sister
The two young girls danced around the meadow their hair flying, the sound of their laughter clear and bright.
One girl was extremely pretty with a mane of lustrous red hair and striking green eyes.
The other had simple brown hair and boring, dull eyes compared to the other girl. But the smile that now lit her face made her just as beautiful as her sister.
The first girl let go of her sister’s hand and then started to run to the other side of the meadow.
“Lily – wait up!” cried the second girl as the girl called Lily shot – literally – across the meadow.
Lily stopped running and turned around slowly, realising the length that she and her sister had been separated by.
“I’m sorry, Petunia!” Lily called back to the small figure in the distance that was Petunia. “I don’t know how I did it. I just . . . did it.”
Petunia huffed as she struggled to make it to the spot where Lily stood. Sighing in resignation, Lily began to make her way back to Petunia.
“I’m sorry, Tuney –” Lily began but Petunia cut her off.
“How do you do it?” she demanded. Petunia did not like being left behind. At all.
“I already told you,” said Lily patiently to her frowning sister. “I don’t know how. It just happens.”
“I can’t see how you can do something without knowing how to do it!”
“Well, you can, I suppose. I’m not lying, Tuney.”
Petunia’s face softened.
“I know, I’m sorry,” she said.
Lily smiled. “It’s okay.”
Lily suddenly laughed – much to her sister’s surprise – and said brightly, “You know something, Tuney? Even though we might grow up and go our separate ways . . .” – Lily’s smile faded as she said this and she looked straight into her sister’s eyes, dead serious – “You’ll always be my sister.”
Then Lily’s wonderful smile that could light up any day appeared again – Petunia couldn’t help it – she smiled, too.
In the years to come Petunia would always remember that day.
* * *
“Your handwriting is so pretty, Lily,” said Petunia enviously.
“Thanks, Tuney,” said Lily, smiling at her.
“Mine is all straight, and uneven, and boring,” Petunia continued.
“No, it’s not,” said Lily. “It’s very neat looking. And at least people will be able to read yours. Mine is so curly, and fancy that nobody will be able to read it.”
Petunia shrugged, but secretly she was pleased from Lily’s compliment.
Lily and Petunia were outside on their house’s porch finishing up some leftover homework they had for their school. It was a nice, warm summer night and Petunia felt like nothing in her life could go wrong now.
But then Petunia’s life was practically ruined the next day.
Lily got an acceptance letter. And not just to any old school, it was a school for magical people. The school’s name was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
It was a school for the unwanted – the freaks.
At least that’s what Petunia thought. But Petunia actually wanted to go to Hogwarts. Why couldn’t she be magical? she thought.
Lily and Petunia’s parent were ever so joyful when Lily got her letter. They kept saying – just out of the blue – “Of course, it had to be Lily! No one else could be a witch, could they? It just had to be Lily.”
It had to be Lily.
Everything had to be Lily. There was never any “It had to be Petunia!” No . . . it was always Lily. Beautiful, nice, sharing, perfect, Lily Evans.
I don’t need to go to a freak school, Petunia reminded herself every day her daydreams of going to the magic school occurred to her.
But Petunia was so desperate to go to Hogwarts that she even dared to write a letter to the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.
And to her great surprise he answered.
Petunia had been sent to gather the mail that fell through the mail slot every day and saw a letter addressed to her.
Breathless, Petunia opened the letter. Please, please . . . , she couldn’t help thinking.
Dear Miss Evans,
It is with my greatest regret that I tell you that you cannot go to Hogwarts. I am very sorry for this, but to be able to attend Hogwarts you have to be a witch or wizard.
I am sorry, Miss Evans, but it is not possible for you to come to Hogwarts.
I am really, truly sorry.
Of course. She had to be magical. Petunia shrieked in rage and threw the letter into the trash. What did she care about what the stupid headmaster of Lily’s stupid, freak school thought? Why did she even bother to write? Why did she care that she wouldn’t be able to go to Hogwarts? Why did she care at all?
There was new feelings in Petunia those days – hatred and spite. Petunia convinced herself to hate Lily; there was never a kind word spoken between them anymore.
Lily was hurt by Petunia’s reaction – she never knew Petunia could act this way. Every time Lily saw Petunia she tried to talk to her, but Petunia would just give Lily an angry look and flounce off.
One day Lily finally managed to corner her sister (who was giving her death glares).
“Petunia,” said Lily, trying to keep calm. “It’s not my fault that you can’t go to Hogwarts, too. I mean, if it was my choice, I’d immediately have you come with me. . . . But it doesn’t work out that way. I can’t change the rules. I’m really, really, really sorry, Tuney.”
“No, you’re not!” Petunia screeched.
“Tuney –” Lily began, the tears starting to form in her eyes.
“Don’t call me that ridiculous nickname!”
Lily took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a few moments before opening them again.
“Petunia . . .” said Lily in a pleading voice. “Can’t you just – just stop all this?
“I mean . . . we’re sisters.”
“I hate you,” Petunia cried. “You’re no sister of mine!” And she left Lily standing there, crying, while she herself felt a few hot drops of water spill down her cheeks.
Of course, deep down Petunia didn’t really hate her sister – quite the opposite in fact. She loved her sister to pieces. But Petunia was jealous of Lily. And jealousy can make you do a lot of bad things.
So Lily went off to Hogwarts – and Petunia was left behind . . . again.
Petunia’s life was now an act. She pretended she hated Lily, and that she didn’t even miss her.
Again, these were all lies.
Petunia missed her sister so badly that she often cried – by herself, of course. She didn’t want her parents knowing that she actually missed Lily.
So the years passed slowly and painfully.
Petunia’s act of hating Lily had become automatic now – she barely had to even try. It was quite real.
This boded even worse for poor Lily. Petunia’s comments were now so mean that they often reduced Lily to tears.
So Lily now avoided Petunia and found solace in her only friend – Severus Snape. Petunia detested that “Snape boy”; she wished her sister didn’t spend time with him. He couldn’t be a good influence on Lily.
But at the end of Lily’s fifth year at Hogwarts she no longer talked to Snape. She no longer had anyone to talk to. Petunia was in two minds: she was glad that Lily wasn’t spending time with the “Snape boy” anymore. But now she spent all her time around the house – so Petunia saw her quite a bit more than she would’ve liked.
In Lily’s last year at her “freak school” she came home with her boyfriend named James Potter.
Petunia immediately disliked him – he was arrogant, and his hair was always out of place – and it didn’t help that he was so wizardish. Petunia hated whenever he talked about things in their world. It was so unnatural.
Petunia had found love, too, though. She was currently dating a man named Vernon Dursley. The main thing Petunia loved about him was how he was just so normal.
He never talked about anything out of the ordinary because he despised anything out of the ordinary. This suited Petunia just fine – and she loved him for it.
They were married when she was eighteen years old – it was a simple wedding without many people. Petunia didn’t even invite Lily and James Potter or her parents.
Petunia worried about what would happen when Vernon found out about Lily; she didn’t think she could keep it a secret her whole life.
But things happened rather suddenly and – to Petunia’s surprise – smoothly.
While looking up in the attic for some old paperwork Vernon Dursley happened upon a letter written with green ink, on thick, yellowish parchment. Vernon couldn’t possibly ignore this, so he opened it.
That night, in their living room at number four, Privet Drive, Vernon sat down with Petunia and asked her to tell him everything.
And so she did. Petunia was shaking badly after she finished her story; she was so worried about what Vernon would think.
He had been quiet as he listened to her words, but when she fell silent he placed his hands or hers and said softly, “Of course, I don’t blame you, Petunia, dear.”
Petunia gasped; she had not been expecting this reaction.
“It’s not your fault you have an . . . abnormal sister. It couldn’t possibly be your fault.”
Petunia wiped tears of happiness from her face and threw her arms around Vernon.
To the Dursleys delight Petunia gave birth to a son a few years later. They named him Dudley. Dudley Dursley. It was the perfect name, Petunia thought.
And less then ten days later the Potters also had a son – Harry James Potter, they had named him.
Lily had sent Petunia a letter – by an owl – telling Petunia all about Harry. Petunia only read the first few lines before throwing the letter away in disgust. What did she care about what happened to Lily?
* * *
Petunia hoped to never have contact with her sister again. Her sister, however, sent her a letter (thankfully by the normal way), asking if she and Vernon would like to get together for a dinner party with her and James.
At first Petunia resisted. But then, she thought, what was the harm?
So that was how Vernon and Petunia Dursley ended up in a small shop in London one night.
“Tuney!” Lily came running up to her sister and hugged her tightly.
Petunia did not hug her back.
“I’ve missed you,” said Lily releasing her sister’s stiff form and looking into her eyes. Petunia wished Lily wasn’t so close so that she could look away from those brilliant green eyes of hers.
“Oh, and you must be Vernon,” said Lily brightly, approaching Vernon.
“Yes,” said Vernon. “And you must be Lily Potter, Petunia’s sister,” he said, trying to sound polite but failing.
“Yes,” said Lily, looking rather hurt by his tone of his voice. “This – this is my husband,” she stammered, motioning to a black haired man who had, until then, been sitting in the shadows, “James.”
“Nice to meet you,” said Vernon, wincing as he and James shook hands.
Petunia nodded curtly to James, but made no other gesture to acknowledge him.
“Er – so – would you like to sit down and order something to eat?” said Lily, bravely breaking the awkward silence that had enveloped them.
Vernon and Petunia shrugged but followed Lily and James to a table in the corner of the room.
“They don’t have any firewhiskey here, do they, Lil?” asked James conversationally, leaning back against his chair.
What –? Firewhiskey? What in the world was that? Petunia thought.
“Er – no, James,” said Lily, uncomfortably avoiding Vernon and Petunia’s glares.
“Pity,” James said. “All they have here is that weird – capuochin-thing?”
“Cappuccino,” Lily corrected.
“Right, whatever,” said James.
Petunia was already feeling very uncomfortable at this point (why ever did she get herself into this?) but it was nothing to what she felt like later.
Vernon tried to impress James with his car – “Newest model, of course –”. However, this backfired as James then began to describe his broomstick. That he rode – “Finest one out there! The handle of it is much more slender then the older ones –”. It was so bizarre.
Lily, seeing Vernon and Petunia’s face while James continued to drone on about his broom, quickly intervened and began to talk to Vernon about his drill company, Grunnings.
But that didn’t last long, and before Lily knew it Petunia and Vernon Dursley had stomped out of the little restaurant swearing to themselves to never again get involved with witches and wizards.
* * *
But then, one year later, Petunia’s life was once again shattered.
It was early in the morning, and it was like every other morning, so Petunia did not think that anything unexpected would happen. Of course, she was quite wrong.
Petunia woke up and started her usual morning routine: dress, start fixing breakfast, get the milk, finish breakfast. But when she opened the front door to get the milk, she screamed.
There wasn’t only milk on the doorstep – there was a baby.
The baby – no doubt awakened by Petunia’s scream – lifted its pudgy arms and cried. Who in the world would drop a baby on someone’s front doorstep? Petunia looked around the neighborhood, but she saw no one. Petunia covered her mouth with her hands, and slowly knelt down besides the baby.
“Shh,” she said quietly to the baby. “Don’t cry.” And to Petunia’s surprise the baby actually did stop crying. Gently, Petunia moved the cloth that had been partially covering the baby’s face.
She stifled another scream. For now she knew who the baby’s parents were.
The baby had green eyes. And not just any green eyes. Lily’s green eyes. Petunia would never forget Lily’s eyes as long as she lived.
It was then that Petunia realized that there was a note attached to the baby’s cloth. Carefully, Petunia detached the note, and studied it.
She knew immediately who it was from – how could she forget? It was written on the same yellowish paper, with the same green ink.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley . . .
Petunia read through the letter, her heart pounding horribly loud in her chest, and tears threatening to spill all over the letter.
Lily had died. My sister is dead! Petunia choked back a gasp, and she sunk down to lay her back against the walls of her house.
It was impossible. It had to be. Lily – dead?
It was Vernon. Obviously he was wondering why she had let the bacon burn.
As gently as she could, Petunia lifted the baby into her arms, gazing into those brilliant green eyes of his.
What would Vernon think of all this? Surely he wouldn’t want to raise another child. Surely he would insist on throwing the baby into an orphanage.
But Petunia knew that she wouldn’t let him. She couldn’t let Lily’s child – Harry Potter – go to an orphanage. Because if she did – if she did she would never see those green eyes again.
“Vernon . . . Vernon, I’ve got a surprise for you. . . . ”
A week later Petunia made an excuse to Vernon. She told him that she was going out with some friends to get caught up on things. He accepted this without question, for which Petunia was glad for.
But Petunia didn’t go to meet some friends.
She went to Godric’s Hollow.
Slowly, Petunia made her way to the graveyard carrying a small slip of paper that she held tightly as if it would blow away at any minute, even though there was no wind.
Petunia wandered around the graveyard looking for Lily’s grave. She turned around – and there it was.
JAMES POTTER LILY POTTER
Born 27 March 1960 Born 30 January 1960
Died 31 October 1981 Died 31 October 1981
The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death. *
Petunia knelt down by the grave, gazing at the inscription on the tombstone, willing herself not to cry.
Petunia opened her mouth, but found that no words came out. Just do it, she told herself firmly.
“Lily – I’m – I’m so sorry – for – for everything. I didn’t mean all those words I said. You know that, don’t you? In case – in case you don’t though . . . I’ll just say it: I’m sorry, and I take it all back. I – I’m just so sorry – I just want you to know – that –”
Petunia finally started to cry, the tears pouring down her cheeks and onto the ground. Petunia placed the note that she had been carrying so tightly right by Lily’s grave and read it aloud, as if Lily could somehow hear her:
“– You’ll always be my sister.”
A/N: I hope you enjoyed that! Please review. <3
* [Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, J. K. Rowling, Page 328]
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