Yes, I know, the ending is probably a trope, but who cares. Please R&R it would make my day. Tell me what you think. Please?

Petunia Evans had always been a simple girl. Smart? Yes. Levelheaded? Yes. But extraordinary? No. She wasn't a freak. And, in a way, she hated that. On the other hand, Petunia found great joy in being just like everybody else. Being normal did, after all, make everybody like her better. Or, it used to anyway. And besides, what was not to like about her? The only thing Petunia liked less than "special" people was feeling like she didn't matter, which made her feel like she wasn't loved. Love made her happy, and when she didn't get love, she was sad. Simple as that.

For most of her life, Petunia had been treated exactly the same, if not slightly better than her younger sister Lily. She'd always understood that even though she was older and would always share a special place in her parents' hearts, she and Lily were equals. They were just as good as each other and their parents loved them equally. She had been content. Everything had changed with the incident, however. Lily had done something amazing that Petunia couldn't. In a rage, Petunia had been a bully towards her best friend. Her only friend. But then, Lily, being the person she was, assured Petunia that she could learn. That she would do everything in her power to make sure Petunia was like her. They'd be friends again. Real sisters again. And they were. But only for awhile. Because no matter how hard she tried, Petunia just wasn't special. It was alright though, as long as she had Lily. Fate, however, was a cruel mistress. Petunia's world was shattered once more when they asked Lily to come be a part of the most special thing in the entire world, and when they told Petunia, that she wasn't, and never would be invited. Something broke inside Petunia when Lily grew better and better as the days went on. She got prettier as Petunia got uglier. She made more friends as Petunia grew more isolated. If Petunia was the oldest, why wasn't this happening to her?

By her 10th letter to Dumbledore, Petunia realized that she would never be like Lily. But it was alright. Even if Lily was too good for her, she still had her parents. Over time though, she came to realize that she would never really have her parents' love or pride. She would always, no matter how hard she tried, be playing second fiddle. This made her sad, which turned to anger, which turned to hate for everybody se]he thought was better than her. She reasoned that the better they were, the more deserving they were of love. Since she wasn't anything special, she didn't deserve love. Not even from herself. She was mad. She was sad. But most of all, she was broken.

And she blamed Lily.

Petunia sat up in her bed, her customary scowl plastered on her face. She had been dreading this day since September 1st. The second day of her summer holidays. The day Lily returned home from her freak school to rub her powers in Petunia's face. She wished she could forget about it, but how could she when cries of,

"Oh, how lucky we are, having a witch in the family!" rang about the house all day? It wasn't like her parents only mentioned it sometimes either. It was all day every day, and they barely even acknowledged Petunia anymore, except for when she did something to their disliking. Even then, the lectures she got usually started with,

"Lily would have…" No matter how many A grades she got, no matter how many awards she won, she'd always be friendless, magicless Petunia Evans. Boring and plain. She constantly tried to remind herself that normality was desired, but it seldom worked. She tried to remind herself that she didn't even love her parents or Lily, so what did it matter what they thought anyway? But she did care, she loved them with all her heart.

As Petunia headed to the small upstairs bathroom in her house and started to get ready, she studied her reflection in the mirror. Unlike Lily, she hadn't inherited her mum's beautiful flame-colored hair. Unlike Lily, she didn't have her father's straight nose. At one point in time, she'd actually thought that this made her special. But now she saw how ugly and imperfect she really was. When she finished getting ready, she headed downstairs and ate her breakfast which consisted, like usual, of toast and milk. Boring like her. She listened to her parents go on and on about how amazing Lily was and how they just could not wait to see her. She was barely even present when they all hurried out to the car to make the short journey from Cokeworth to Kings Cross. She didn't even say anything when she saw them, Lily's kind, in all their glory, and when she wished very badly that just for one second she could know what it felt like to be them. She kept quiet when she saw her, talking to a boy with black hair, having the time of her life. She didn't say anything as they rode back home and Lily told her parents about how amazing her school was. She didn't say anything when they arrived at home and she, like usual, was asked if she could please fix dinner while her parents caught up with Lily. She definitely didn't make a peep when she went to bed at night wishing that she could be like Lily for just one second so that she could feel happy. She didn't speak, no, she only cried.

...

When she awoke the next morning, Petunia wasn't optimistic about the day ahead. First, there would be a huge breakfast for Lily, and then they would spend the rest of the day talking about all that she had done at her school. As if Lily needed any more of an ego boost. Petunia didn't even bother to brush her teeth before going downstairs. She could smell the sausage and eggs, and frankly, she didn't give a damn. She was an angsty 13-year-old girl whose life was ruined. What did she care about not having morning breath?

As she entered the kitchen, her mother turned from the stove, and as per usual,

"Good morning, love. Lily was just…" she trailed off mid-sentence and stared at Petunia. What was it now? Petunia plastered a smile on her face, and, prompting her mother, she said,

"Lily was just what mum?" Her mother shook her head and instead of answering Petunia's question, replied,

"What on earth have you done to your hair?" Petunia wanted to scoff at her mother's rudeness. Just because she wasn't an angel, it didn't mean that she was that ugly. She might feel that way, but her mother shouldn't.

"I haven't done anything, mum." She made sure to keep her tone polite.

"Don't be funny, Tuney," god, she hated that nickname, "your hair is red, and it doesn't just turn that way overnight!"

Her hair, red? Now Petunia knew that something was up, and she concluded that it was probably Lily's fault.