Sorores
They're together. That's not new or different, though. They often hole away side by side because the alternative, to hide alone, is much worse than both of them being caught. There's something to be said when one fears loneliness more than they fear pain. Or, rather, it probably means something when the pain of forced isolation outweighs the sting and ache of physical violence. Either way, they're going to end up hurt in the end. So, really, it comes down to whether it's better to be in pain alone or with someone at your side.
For them, sharing the pain is just another thing that binds them–like blood and noses and names and a love of strawberry jam and hand-me-downs. It's all just part of their list and it has been so long that envisioning it any other way is nearly impossible.
Carefully shifting to her belly, Petunia connects eyes with her little sister. "Someday, we'll runaway together," she tells the chubby-cheeked five-year-old.
"To where?" Lily asks with all the solemnity possessed by a of child her age, believing fully in her sister.
Reaching over, Petunia twines their fingers together and thinks. Where to? Will they go to the city where the Queen lives? Or, maybe, that seaside village their parents took them to last summer for holiday? Or…
"We'll join the circus," she proclaims. "Like the one we saw on the telly yesterday. I bet they can always use help cleanin' up after their horses or sellin' tickets."
"Cleanin' up after the horses?" Lily repeats with mild disgust. "That job sounds icky," she grumbles.
Petunia sighs. "You'd get used to it and 'sides, you'd get to pet the horses while you do it!"
"That might be nice," the younger admits.
Petunia smiles, which draws one from Lily as well.
Neither of their grins last long, however, because the next thing the two know hands are clamping around their ankles and they are being dragged out rough and hard from their hiding spot. Manhandled up from the floor next, the girls stare wild-eyed into the vexed face of their mother.
"You little beasts!" she snarls at them. "You two are going to pay for the mess you left in my kitchen!"
Frog-hopped from the room, neither girl says a word. They know it's futile. It doesn't matter if Petunia has made sure they swept all the crumbs from their breakfast onto their plates after they finished eating and straightened out the tablecloth before stacking their dishes in the sink like they are supposed to.
Their mother will see what she likes and most of the time, she sees a disaster zone in the kitchen after they eat breakfast. They can offer to clean up for their mother, but it will never be good enough and they'll still be punished in the end for it being messy. They can refuse to eat, but that will upset their mother even more than a mess, because she'll think they are trying to make her look like a bad mother and she will punish them for that.
In the end, Petunia feels, they've done their best. Running and hiding until their daddy comes home is the best bet they have most days. Unfortunately, that only saves their hides for so long as their mother has gotten better at seeking over the years. Soon, Petunia is hoping they can turn their hiding outdoors (if only it would hurry up on becoming spring!). Petunia knows from their experiences from last year, if they get outside and run very fast and very far from home after breakfast, they can avoid being punished for messes.
They can also avoid Mum's punishments if Daddy is home for the most part, because he always wants a good story for why it has to happen and why she has to use the wooden spoon. He wants these reasons as Daddy can't bear hearing or watching his little princess and baby getting smacked. On the rare occasion where Mum does have a story and Daddy leaves so she can punish Petunia and Lily, Petunia reminds herself not to be mad at Daddy, because he likes it no more than her or Lily.
Now in the small, white and yellow kitchen they've run from only an hour and a half ago, Lily and Petunia are lined up by the table. Their mother orders, "Skirts up!"
Hiking the thin fabric around her belly, Petunia squeezes her eyes shut and waits for the first stinging whack. This time, she swears, she isn't going to cry. Petunia is going to make it through this without vexing their mother further by making her clean up her ugly, snotty red face when the spanking is done. She'll do it this time.
(Petunia ends up crying, but not as bad as Lily who's gasping for air from the strength of her wails).
This is no doubt going to be five/six chapters, though, it'll be a slow update as this is on the back burner/something easy to do when Bygone, The Kidnapping of Lucius Malfoy or the last stretch of Hard Wrought Joy decides to trouble me in the coming month.
Thank you all so very much for reading and pretty please review!
EDITED: 2/17/16