Petunia awoke to the familiar routine of her repetitive life. The sun lazily filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on her plain, brown hair as she rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. It had been a year since Lily had received that letter, the letter to that wretched school that had changed everything.
As she made her way downstairs to the kitchen, she couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia wash over her. Things had been so different before, so much more normal. Her parents, their eyes filled with hope and anticipation, would often stand by the window, eagerly waiting for an owl to bring news.
Petunia was an observant girl, acutely aware of the dynamics within her family. She had always known that Lily held a special place in their parents' hearts. Her parents had always held Lily in high regard, captivated by her vibrant and kind nature. With her radiant red hair and sparkling emerald eyes, Lily had effortlessly stolen the spotlight. Petunia, on the other hand, felt like the forgotten one, with her average looks and unremarkable features. Her hair, a dull shade of brown, lacked the luster and allure of Lily's fiery mane.
As Petunia poured herself a bowl of cereal, her mind drifted back to those days, It was that wretched shabby boy, Snape and Lily had started spending more and more time with him, leaving Petunia feeling like an outsider in her own home. She keep on reliving the moment when her world came to screeching halt as she witnessed something truly fantastical. Standing in the doorway of their childhood home, her eyes widened with disbelief and awe. Lily, her vibrant younger sister, held a delicate flower in her hand, its petals suspended in mid-air. Petunia's breath caught in her throat as she watched Lily effortlessly levitate the blossom, a mesmerizing display of magic. But it wasn't just the extraordinary sight before her that filled Petunia with a mix of wonder and resentment, because she knew she did not possessed what her little sister can do.
Lily had been growing more distant, spending an increasing amount of time with a shabby boy, Snape. Petunia couldn't fathom what had drawn her sister towards him, this enigmatic figure with greasy hair and an air of mystery.
They were sisters, bound by an unspoken love and shared experiences. Petunia cherished those moments, the ones before everything changed. The once unbreakable bond between the sisters had weakened, as if Snape had wedged himself between them, poisoning the connection they had cherished for so long.
Then the letter came, and Petunia's parents couldn't have been happier. Their special child, Lily, had become even more extraordinary. As Petunia watched their faces light up with joy, a twinge of discomfort settled in her heart. She couldn't quite understand why it bothered her so much.
She recalled writing a letter to Dumbledore, hoping to be accepted as a student. She had secretly yearned for the same magic that seemed to radiate effortlessly from Lily. But the response she received shattered her fragile hopes. It was a rejection, a simple and straightforward declaration that she did not possess the gift of magic.
Petunia couldn't quite put her finger on it, but the letter stung. It felt like a reminder that she was somehow lacking, not good enough to be part of the magical world. It was as if a spotlight had been cast on her shortcomings, exposing her to the harsh reality of her own ordinariness. Confusion and frustration clouded her young mind. Why couldn't she be special like Lily? Why did she have to be left behind, relegated to a life of mediocrity while her sister soared to unimaginable heights?
As Petunia observed the jubilation surrounding Lily's acceptance, a mixture of envy and self-doubt coursed through her veins. Petunia tucked the letter away, concealing the pain it had inflicted upon her budding sense of self.
As Petunia poured herself a bowl of cereal, her mother sat down across from her at the breakfast table. It was a weekend morning, and Petunia had managed to sleep in a bit. She prepared to dig into her breakfast, assuming her mother had also made something for her.
But before she could take a bite, her mother cleared her throat and began, "Petunia, I wanted to talk to you about something. Starting next week, I'm going to be taking up a job at a café."
Petunia looked up, a hint of surprise in her eyes. "A job? But why, Mum?"
Her mother sighed softly and met Petunia's gaze. "Well, things have been getting more expensive lately, and your father and I thought it would be helpful to have another salary coming in. It will be good for all of us."
Petunia frowned, a mix of confusion and concern spreading across her face. "But Mum, why do we need the extra money? Things were fine before."
Her mother's expression softened with understanding. She reached across the table and placed a hand on Petunias. "I know it might seem sudden, but sometimes life throws unexpected challenges. We want to ensure we can provide the best for you and Lily. It's temporary, sweetheart."
Petunia felt a knot forming in her stomach. She wasn't used to her parents discussing financial matters so openly. She had always assumed they were comfortable, never having to worry about money. The news of her mother working felt like a disruption to their once-predictable lives
After a few days of trying her food without no one to guide her, she was starting to get frustrated. Petunia couldn't shake off the thought that her mother's decision was somehow connected to Lily's schooling. A question gnawed at her mind: Did they need the extra money because of Lily's education?
That night, while attempting to cook her own dinner, frustration took hold of Petunia. Burnt fingers and a less-than-appetizing meal left her seething with anger. She sat down at the kitchen table, her emotions simmering, and the connection finally clicked.
It wasn't just about her parents needing money. It was about Lily's magical school supplies and tuition fees. The realization hit her with a mix of resentment and hurt. Why should Lily get to have the magical world and escape the responsibilities Petunia was expected to shoulder?
Petunia's anger grew with each passing moment, and that night, as her mother returned from her job at the café, Petunia mustered the courage to confront her. The burn on her finger served as a physical reminder of her failed attempt at cooking and an emotional catalyst for her words.
"Why did you have to start working, Mum?" Petunia's voice quivered with a mix of anger and hurt. "Is it because of Lily's school? Are we struggling because of her magical education?"
Her mother, taken aback by the sudden confrontation, met Petunia's gaze. Weariness lined her face as she replied, "Petunia, we want to give both you and Lily the best opportunities. It's not just about her magic. We want to ensure you have everything you need too."
A surge of defiance rose within Petunia. "But why should it always be about Lily? Why doesn't she have to share in the responsibilities? It's not fair!"
She wanted to ask her mother if Lily knew about the mounting financial pressure they were facing. Did Lily understand the sacrifices they were making? But deep down, Petunia knew the answer. Lily was blissfully unaware of the strain and responsibilities that had suddenly fallen upon their family.
With a heavy sigh, Petunia swallowed her words and looked down at her hands, clenching them into tight fists. It wasn't Lily's fault that she possessed magical abilities or that their parents were willing to go to great lengths to support her education. But at that moment, the unfairness of it all weighed heavily on Petunia's heart.