Air rushed through Petunia's ears as she swung high and fast through the crisp September sky. She had never been this audacious on the swings before, never so bold and daring. To someone like her, who didn't ever do anything potentially risky, this sense of adventure was so new, so exciting.
Petunia urged her swing to go even higher, until she was almost level with the young oak tree at the edge of the sandbox. One of her shoes went spinning off to the ground. She kicked off the other, savoring the sudden freedom of the wind caressing her toes. It was something Lily would do, not Petunia. But she didn't care. It felt good.
The bright sun burned through her closed eyelids as Petunia shut out her problems from her mind. The heat, the birdsong, the smell of the dewy grass—that was all that existed to her. High up she went, and poof! went that Snape git. Poof! went stupid Albus Dumbledore and his stupid magic school for freaks. Poof! Special Lily and her special trunk and special magic wand. Poof! Mummy and Daddy and their doting on their amazing, talented, beautiful and special younger daughter. Petunia went higher. And higher. And higher still.
She opened her eyes and nearly fainted. She was still swinging, high high up, higher than Lily had ever swung.
This is the closest I'll ever get to flying.
Petunia gripped her resolve with one hand and threw out her sanity with the other and let go. A shriek burst from her lips as she flung herself from the swing, tumbled through the air, head over heels and skirt upended—to land neatly on her bare feet.
The birds stopped singing. The wind stopped blowing. The entire world stood still, even Petunia herself, mouth gaping in a silent scream.
Then the moment passed, and everything carried on. Petunia was frozen to the spot, eyes wide and heart beating a mile a minute. She had done it. She had. She had!
And then she collapsed on the ground as the adrenaline ebbed away and blood rushed up to her head. She lay there, panting heavily as logic caught up with her. What a stupid thing to do! She could've broken an arm, or a leg, or even some ribs! No, she was definitely not doing that ever again, thank you very much—
"Petunia!" her mother's voice called from the direction of their house. "Hurry back! It's almost eleven! We're driving your sister to the train station in a bit!"
Petunia picked up her shoes and ran. As she ran, she brushed sand from her hair and made up her mind. She was going to do it again, the second they came home.