A ring is given.
Before Hogwarts, before everything, Petunia and Lily were married under an oak tree with a black hat and a long white scarf. There was also a plastic ring colored with pink marker and sprinkled with glitter that they took turns wearing for a week or until it was ultimately untrusted to Petunia who stored in her floral piggybank, solemnly swearing to guard it with her life. A promise is a promise.
But then Lily meets that Snape boy and Petunia is no longer her regular other half; Lily is whisked away to Hogwarts, Lily dates and laughs and lives, and it's all without Petunia. And so Petunia saves and saves, hopes and hopes, dreams and dreams, and finally empties out her floral piggybank to count out the exact amount needed to whisk herself away to London and a typing course.
And the piggybank is donated to the garage sale next door.
Empty.
After all, a promise is a promise. Promises just don't necessarily mean anything.
And a ring is looked for.
No one knew if the battle had technically been won or lost. The only thing certain was that there had been casualties resulting in broken families. The wide field behind the burned village was colorful. Prone figures lay on the ground, some upturned towards the sky or still with an arm reached towards a wand that was not there. Black cloaks and silver masks combined with red Auror robes and badges with the occasional multicolored Order member shirt created a quiet multi-colored hill, unfitting for a battle ground where just mere moments before had been filled with live people now just corpses needing burial with nobody to do so, for everyone was already planning the next battle.
And in the middle of it was Lily, yelling summoning spell after summoning spell from one hand while using the other to hold the broken silver chain around her neck and trying to simultaneously wipe the tears off her face.
But no glimmer of metal comes whizzing to her, until at last, worn from battle, she can only admit defeat, and face that her mother's wedding ring is never coming back from where it was ripped from its chain by a cutting curse. It's like losing Mum all over again with James holding her shoulders on one side and Mary on the other murmuring words of comfort that do nothing to dissuade her grief that her last link to her parents is gone.
And somewhere in the multitude of bodies, a ring glimmers faintly until a wave of dirt buries all the bodies altogether, and it glimmers no more.
But there is still one more ring.
Pink with sparkles, it is mailed from one estranged sister to another.
It's Lily's turn now.