A/N: These stories are only vaguely in a sort of chronological order. They sort of all take place around the same time, but it doesn't really matter. I know that I still haven't updated 'Lily', but I'm getting there. As of now, I have four in this collection, but there may be more coming soon. If anyone has a suggestion of a song, I am open to them, but please try to make them connect to Lily and James.
Disclaimer: I neither own Harry Potter nor any of the songs used in this fic.
THE ELTON JOHN COLLECTION
1. No Valentines
No more Valentine's Day,
No more Christmas cards,
I've thrown them all away,
No more sequined stars.
What have we become, Pet? We were the best of friends, and then you turned against me. What was different between the two of us? I simply had the luck of the draw and got the gene that gave me my magic. It is dormant in you somewhere; it just chose to show itself in me.
Do you miss what we had? All of those crazy and silly traditions?
Like Valentine's Day, when we would give each other cards with the soppiest love notes we could think of. We would find them all over the house all day long, or at school. They always made us laugh, at ourselves and the girls who sighed over the corny lines when a boy gave it to them.
Like Christmas, when we would stay up all night the night before Christmas Eve to make those stars for Mum and then decorate the tree. We never let Mum and Dad help us. Just the two of us up in that big old house, decorating a Christmas tree with the precious baubles and those stars that we made every year, one with a picture of us and the other with Mum and Dad, covered in sequins and glitter when we were younger and (ever so slightly) more refined as we got older.
Did you know that I kept every single one until now, even though I would cry for hours when I came across one? I've finally accepted that you and I will never mend this bridge; even the pillars that are supposed to be stone have been destroyed. By your jealousy, your inability to accept that your younger sister has things better than you, you have destroyed what is supposed to be the most precious bond between two women.
No birthday wishes,
No more surprises:
Who needs them anyway?
No reason to get excited.
Our birthdays were always the best: the little presents hidden in jacket pockets and bags, each with their own little card. I always loved that my birthday was just after the start of school; the first few years you would tuck them into my robes.
Then you realized that, while the Wizarding world wasn't idyllic, it was certainly better than whatever you'd get. That, and I hit my growth spurt and was suddenly tall and leggy and slim, but still busty, with a clear complexion and thick red hair and bright emerald eyes. Basically, I was no longer the ugly duckling. And as I'm being so honest in this letter, you were never a swan to begin with. It surprised me so much in my first year to hear that. Everyone had always said that you, with your blond hair and pale eyes and angular features, were the pretty one, whereas I was merely the younger sister. James was the one who told me that. When we were eleven, he told me I was pretty and I said that no one ever said that after seeing you and then I showed him your picture. I'm not quite sure why I did that; shouldn't I have been happy that someone thought I was pretty? But he replied by saying that anyone who thought that such a horse-faced girl was prettier than an angel like me had to be blind. I agree with him.
It surprised me how easy it was to not expect anything from you. The first time, I cried almost all day on my birthday, but by Christmas I was over it and didn't even send you your favorite candies.
Yes I gave you everything.
I gave you earth and sky
And everything in between
That walks or crawls or flies.
I idolized you. You were my big sister, the one I always looked up to. I would have given anything to have back our close friendship when it first fell apart, but then I looked back. You always were mean and cruel to me, even if I put it off as 'sisterly love'. You always made fun of the fact that I didn't look anything like anyone else in our family, except our great-grandmother. Of course, I later found out that she was a Squib, a person born into a Wizarding family without any powers. I wish she hadn't died when I was ten, right before I got my letter. It would have been nice to have someone in the family who I could talk to and maybe get a little information about this mysterious new world.
Of course, the positions are now reversed for me. You know 'that Potter boy', the one that I always complained about? He's now my adoring husband, as you know from the announcement, and he treats me the way I treated you, like something precious and breakable that needs to be cared for to preserve it. It may get on my nerves every once in a while, but I've gotten over it. It really is nice to have someone treat you like a goddess.
Did you know that you were the stimulus that pushed us together? You, who can't stand him simply because he thinks I'm a wonderful person, not to mention that he's rich and gorgeous and everything that Vernon isn't. It was that letter you sent me, saying that you were getting married and that I wasn't to even think about coming to the wedding. For some reason, that was the last straw for me. I ran from the table in tears and he comforted me and made the necessary excuses to our teachers for that and every subsequent letter. I still don't understand why you even wasted paper with those letters. All of it has been thrown away. I'm not sure why I kept them in the first place, but they've all gone into the garbage as James and I are moving out of the apartment as the remodeling is finally finished on our house.
No Easter mornings;
It's your cross now.
Keep it all for yourself;
It's overrated anyhow.
So now you get to live with what you have done, the relationship you have destroyed because you are Petty Petunia who always had to be the best. Well guess what? I think I've one-upped you in everything that counts. I'm throwing it all behind me and there it will stay. I'm not going to cry anymore on holidays when we had our traditions. I'm going to rejoice in the fact that I have James, and a son on the way, and friends who support me more than you ever did.
Easter was the hardest to get over after that letter, because I was actually home for that vacation. I even thought that we could make up, so I snuck into your room on Easter morning, like I always had, and put Thumper on your bed. Looking back, I laugh at how you shrieked when he started nibbling on your nightgown. At the time, I remember being heartbroken. I think that was when the seeds of doubt that we would ever be the same were planted.
Has anyone told you that familial love is overrated? It really is. Out of all the people I know, I think James is the one who gets along the best with his entire family, including Sirius who isn't even related but may as well be. All of my other friends have parents/siblings/relatives that they can't stand, but James gets along with everyone. I find it incredibly funny, especially the fact that every female Potter, wife or child, has red hair. James was blushing so hard when his father told me that.
But keep my Valentine,
I'll keep my bleeding heart.
Just let me out of here
Before the sentimental music starts.
And your regrets
Fall like empty lines,
Like the lies we write on Valentine's.
But I digress from my point. As of now, I no longer will think of you as my sister. You are the girl with whom I was unfortunate enough to grow up. You no longer need to think of me, you can forget I even existed if it makes you happy.
Just keep my Valentine.
I'll keep my bleeding heart.
Just let me out of here
Before the sentimental music starts.
And your regrets
Fall like empty lines,
Like the lies we write on Valentine's.