Flowers of the Garden

"Well, someone tell me, when is it my turn? Don't I get a dream for myself? Starting now, it's gonna be my turn. Gangway, world, get off of my runway! Starting now, I bat a thousand!"
-Rose's Turn, Bette Midler


We were best friends throughout our entire childhood. Nothing could change that – our sisterly bond was unbreakable. Not a single thing could take that away and tear us apart. We were two peas in a pod, and stuck together like glue.

Petunia and Lily – Daddy's sweet tiny flowers, Mummy's vibrant little girls. The perfect picturesque family in every little way – at least that's how it appeared to everyone on the outside, that is. The family pre-framed in the picture frame when it first comes home from the store. That was us.

Lily always seemed to gain more attention though, it may have been her fiery red hair, or her deep emerald eyes, or maybe Lily just received all the wits in the family. Either way, she was never one to simply turn away all the attention – but rather, welcomed it, and she welcomed others along with her for the ride.

As much as I loved her – I loathed her equally as much. I was older, more charismatic. I probably would have been smarter too, if only I applied myself to my studies as much as I should have.

It wasn't fair…

I wanted that attention.

I needed that attention

I would have killed for the same amount of affection that Mum and Daddy showered Lily with.

Just plain Petunia, that's all I was. It seemed at the time, I was only a picture that was hardly deemed worthy enough to be sitting on the mantle above the fireplace next to the wonder Lily.

So, I may have been a little jealous of my younger sister. She had everything I really wanted.

However, right before Lily's eleventh birthday, we found out that she was a freak. Our parents were ecstatic; they were so proud. We had Lily, their precious Lily. A real live, living and breathing witch. In our family!

I was really the only one who saw how weird this new reality of hers actually as. Things like that do not just happen every day. Not where we came from. …Of course, nothing like that would ever happen to me. It never did. Never would. And, that alone wasn't fair. Not in the least bit.

She left for that strange school of hers the summer before she turned eleven. I wasn't much older than her, but for the first time – it felt like I was the only child in the Evans family. For ten months over the next seven years, there would be no Lily.

Sure, in the beginning she came home on breaks to visit – and after some time that wasn't an annual occurrence. Leaving me, Petunia, the only one showered with physical affection. .

I was the only one that Daddy could take to the office and show off to his young, attractive employees. I was the only one able to be seen. There was no Lily to gawk at.

I was the only one Mum could brag about when her girlfriends would come over for afternoon tea. My accomplishments mattered for the first time. My bad marks were overlooked, simply to be replaced by the wondrous deed that I have overcome in place of them.

The fawning and pawning never seemed to get old – and the attention was to die for. But, there was no one to share it with. Many of my friends had found other friends, some found boyfriends – and no longer wished to visit because of the over protectiveness of my parents. Few of them stuck around just to see what would happen when, or if, Lily would return home.

Would I still be the pride and joy in my parents eyes now that their genius, special, child was now around?

Occasionally I did miss having another person around the house. I missed sharing those quiet comments when an uncommon family member visited. I missed telling the stories from school that should not reach parents' ears. The talk of boys to avoid, what rumors were milling around the school hallways, what one teacher wore to gain the attention of another. I missed it. I missed her… what she was before she became a freak. But now, at times it felt that she didn't exist – and I could easily pretend that she didn't.

[abcdefg]

Mum made me invite her to the wedding. And, to be quite honest, to appease her, I even offered to let Lily be in the wedding party. Of course she accepted; neither of us wanted to upset mum. This was probably the last time we would ever have to be forced to do something together. Holidays and family get-togethers could easily be avoided – if she even wanted to bother to show up.

As Lily helped me put on my dress, neither of us said a word. Not like we would have known what to say to each other anyway, we barely knew each other now – things had changed, and time continued to move on.

All eyes were on me as I walked down the aisle on my wedding day. It was my day. All about me.

Lily stood quietly in her place in the line of bridesmaids next to me, smiling, like she couldn't be happier. It was my day, and my sister was running through my head more than she should have been. I found myself secretly wondering what she thought, was this what she would have done? What did she really think of Vernon?

Thoughts that really didn't matter in the end, but if she would have turned out normal, these would have been addressed throughout the whole process of our lives. I felt as though I was missing out on sisterly bonding that could have been. And I hated her for that. I hated her for the fact that she could show up, and help me with my dress, and stand up at the altar with me as though nothing had changed between us. All without saying really one word to my face.

At the reception, everyone accepted Lily like she had never been gone and although it was still my day – all about me – it felt as though she stole the spotlight from right out under my feet. I loathed her for getting all the attention back that she once had when we were little ones, all the attention I had worked so much for when she had gone off to school. It wasn't fair.

I would never have to see her again.

[abcdefg]

October 31st, 1981, it was made official that I no longer would have to live in my younger sister's shadow. She went and got herself killed. They said it was by her husband's best friend of all people. Sure, I was sad. How couldn't I be? My only sibling was murdered. I think I was more shocked by it all if anything.

We hadn't had contact with each other in many years, and all I received was a letter telling me that she had passed, and that I was left with her child. Her baby boy.

A boy I knew absolutely nothing about. Harry James Potter. I was told that I had to keep him safe, that he would do great things in his life. He would be like her. Just like her, with his emerald eyes. I'm sure he would have her brains to, and his love for the attention that was always just calling his name. Everyone would simply just love him because of what he was and what he would do. A lot of things would probably just come naturally to him, and he wouldn't really have to work for what he wanted. Harry would be one of them.

And that was one thing I couldn't love him for.


Okay, I have a quick few things to say – because well, I haven't written or posted in a while, and I needed to thank a couple of people. First, Miss Nicole Ashley – for giving me the idea over a year ago in high school physics (of all places) to write from Petunia's view when I told her I wanted to write a character I haven't explored. Secondly, Miss Jenni-ferr (FallInLoveTonight) for taking to wonderful time from writing at 1 am when I asked her to look over it and nitpick parts for me and for showing me where semi-colons belong (lord knows when I have to teach middle schoolers that…it's going to be a horrible mess.)(Oh, and for your help with the summary… thanks!) And, finally, Miss Beccadee (coinoperatedbecca) for basically making me take time out of my "hectic" college career to sit down and finish it after a year – especially since you made me feel guilty that I wasn't doing any school work or writing and all you did was school work and write and watch historical fallacies with me.

For real, the end.