One thing Petunia Dursley never told her husband.
At the age of fifteen, Petunia Evans decided that she didn't need magic to be special. The school term was beginning to wind down, the days getting hotter, signalling the approach of the time of year Petunia dreaded and anticipated in equal measures: Lily's return from Hogwarts. For ten months of the year Petunia could pretend that her sister didn't exist, but for eight weeks in the summer Lily flitted back into their lives, reminding Petunia that she was very much second best. It was a strange couple of months: some small part of her eagerly counted down the days until her reunion with Lily even while she was sick with jealousy.
But this year would be different. Petunia could enjoy her time with Lily because she, for once, would be the centre of attention.
Petunia spent the day before Lily was due to return seeking out a hairdresser. It took her a long time because she was looking for a very particular kind of hairdresser, and neither she nor her friends usually visited such places. But she persisted, and after three hours of searching she found herself in a salon describing what she wanted. Her hair had always been her best feature. Pitch black and twice as thick as her wrist when it was plaited, her mother had spent hours stroking and brushing it when Petunia was a little girl. The hairdresser looked almost grieved to cut it so short, far above her shoulders, to bleach out the lustrous black and replace it with a shocking shade of pink.
She hid it beneath a thick woolly hat and ran straight to her room when she returned home. It wasn't that she didn't want her mother to see it; she wanted her to see it when the time was right. So she hid away in her room all night, claiming sickness. She ignored the gnawing in her stomach and the hours of boredom, willing to trade one night of discomfort for her long awaited victory. To pass the time she brushed her hair until it gleamed and she could no longer stand the scrape of the bristles against her scalp.
In the morning she had to force herself to walk calmly down the stairs. She entered the kitchen, her stomach churning with excitement and fear, and asked her mother if there was anything she could do to prepare for her sister's arrival. Her mother glanced at Petunia absently, her eyes lingering on her vibrant hair for the briefest of moments, and asked her to fetch the sheets to make up Lily's bed.