Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to Joanne Kathleen Rowling.
Broken Dreams
Petunia Evans dreamed of magic.
She devoured books by J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis and David Eddings while other girls her age held tea parties for dolls. She'd make Lily join her in furniture stores, checking every wardrobe for an entrance to Narnia. On Halloween, while Lily dressed as a princess or a fairy, she'd get their mother to dye a lock of her hair near her brow white, and she'd put on a long blue dress and go as Polgara the Sorceress. Their mother soon got tired of regularly scolding Petunia for playing with her broom, pretending to fly on it.
Petunia watched in shock and envy as little Lily made her doll float down from the top shelf and fly to her outstretched hand, her small face glowing. Alone in her bed at night, Petunia tried making her teddy bear float in mid-air, but no matter how much she strained her willpower, the only result was a headache.
Lily leapt off the playground swing at its highest point, soaring into the air like a bird for much longer than Petunia would have thought possible, before landing lightly and exclaiming excitedly that she could fly. Petunia quickly swung higher, full of anticipation - only to wake up in hospital to the sound of her mother scolding Lily and telling her never to do any of those dangerous tricks again, and the pain of a headache and a broken ankle.
Then that Snape boy turned up, and Lily began spending most of her time with him. She began learning to control her powers, while Petunia still strained to produce even the slightest sign of magic. When Lily was eleven, a witch - a real witch, in robes and a pointy black hat - suddenly appeared in their living room with a letter, and explained to their shocked parents that Lily was a witch, and was invited to a magic school called Hogwarts. She brought them to a place called Diagon Alley. The cornucopia of sights, smells and sounds made the excited Petunia's head spin. Magic was real; there was a whole, hidden magical world and she was in it! But she still wasn't part of it.
In Ollivander's shop, as Lily searched for the right wand, Petunia picked up each of her sister's discarded wands, twirling them, hoping against hope that sparks would fly, or that something would levitate, and that Professor McGonagall would ask her to come to Hogwarts as well. But nothing happened, and she was left to watch enviously as their parents fussed over Lily, their little witch, surrounded by spellbooks, an owl, a wand and a cauldron.
Petunia read and re-read Lily's Hogwarts letter, and even wrote a letter to the Headmaster. His reply soon arrived; he told her kindly but firmly that they had records of every witch and wizard in Britain, and that her name wasn't among them, so she couldn't come to Hogwarts with Lily. She gripped the parchment so tighly that it almost tore, hot tears falling upon it.
She wasn't part of the magical world; well, then, the magical world was no longer a part of her. At King's Cross Station, as Lily prepared to go off to Hogwarts, surrounded by other young witches and wizards with their owls and wands and spellbooks, Petunia decided that her sister and others like her were freaks, and that she'd never want to be like them anyway. Magic could no longer be a part of her; but it left behind a gaping hole in its place that nothing could fill.
Back in Petunia's room, the shelves of fantasy books, witch figurines and toy wands became coated in a thick layer of dust, but she never threw them out. They remained there, now useless but still a reminder of a happier time, like fragments of broken dreams; given up but never truly forgotten.
I do identify with Petunia, in a way. After reading DH, I really felt for her. Reviews would be much appreciated. :)