Disclaimer: Anything recognizable belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Author's Note: Well, here's something new that I've never tried before. I'm more of a romantic person, but lately something about the relationships between major and minor characters in Harry Potter interested me. It always surprised me that a woman could hate her sister so much, or that someone could be just that prejudiced. Thus, the birth of this new story, Emotions.
This will probably be an on-going thing, something I can add to when I get bored or writer's block. And apologies for not working on New Perspectives for those that read it. So, enjoy!
Part One
Jealousy
Petunia never forgot. She remembered everything.
She remembered the first Christmas Lily spent away from home.
She and Lily used to love Christmas. They used to help their father string up the lights, their mother bake the cookies. They used to decorate the tree together, and every year she and Lily would take turns to get up on their father's shoulders and place the angel on top the Christmas tree.
The last time they had done that had been six years, a lifetime, ago.
Then she had gotten that dratted letter and flounced off to that dratted school and spent every other Christmas there. Christmases that she should have been at home, perched on her father's shoulders, completing the tree with a flourish. Christmases that should have been spent as a family, with laughter and presents and joy.
On the day after Christmas she would write a letter home, detailing every little thing that she and her freakish friends had spent the previous day doing, with their magnificent Christmas feasts, and their exploding Christmas crackers and their glorious snowball fights.
She hated Lily for those amazing Christmases that she had.
She remembered the first letter Lily wrote home from school.
It had been a week since she'd gotten there. They'd heard nothing from her for that week, a week where their parents had fretted and fussed about their precious little Lily. Petunia remembered that amidst her parents' fears for her, she knew that her sister was just fine. Lily liked fun and excitement; she knew that she was just enjoying herself too much to write.
And sure enough, when that owl had flapped into the kitchen on day seven of no correspondence (sending her parents into fits of excitement and herself into a minor panic attack), she had confirmed that.
She had talked about the moving staircases, the enormous Entrance Hall, the walking suits of armour. There were the talking portraits, the secret passageways, the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall. She wrote about the deep, dark, forbidden forest, the tree that walloped people when they got too close, and the poltergeist intent on pranking people. She explained how she had learnt how to brew potions to cure boils, how to turn a toothpick into a needle, and the uses of different magical plants. She had, above all, avidly described her new teachers, her lessons, and her classmates.
Lily had written about so much that Petunia wasn't surprised it had taken her so long to write home. There was too much to do, too much to learn.
Her school sounded so amazing, so extraordinary, so full of life. It was so... Lily. Lily's kind of place, Lily's home away from home, Lily's true calling.
She hated how Lily had found her real self in just one week.
She remembered the first time Lily got in trouble at school.
Petunia was surprised when that owl fluttered through the window and left that letter, emblazoned with the school's coat of arms. That could only mean Lily - Lily, always the perfect and sensible one, in trouble?
Her mother had been the first to read the letter – and she had laughed, before passing it on to her father. Her father had instantly gone into hysterics, practically falling to the floor, when Petunia had walked into the room. She had rushed over to her father, worried that there was something wrong with him, when she realized that he was only laughing.
"What's so funny?" she had asked.
She knew what the answer was even before she had been told. Her mother had handed her the letter, hiding a smile behind her hand, with one simple word.
Lily.
Her eyes had scanned the letter quickly, taking in only certain words. Fellow student. Hexes. Retaliation. Kissed. State of shock.
From what she could deduce from that letter, Lily and a fellow student – a boy, it appeared – had been conspiring in a prank war against each other, climaxing one day when, in a fit of outrage, kissed him in front of the whole school and left him in a state of shock.
He hadn't been the same since, apparently. He was now utterly besotted with her. Lily's Head of House had said that she and the boy were in detention for the next two weeks for the prank war, but added that she felt Lily's final prank was the most spectacular of all. After all, her nemesis was apparently part of the most notorious troublemakers at the school, and she had bested him.
She hated the fact that Lily had was in trouble at school, but still, still her parents and teachers loved her for it.
But more than that, she hated the fact she had the audacity to even participate in something like this.
She hated that Lily had the courage to do what she could not.
She remembered the first time she lied about where Lily went during most of the year.
Her friend from school had asked, just out of curiosity, where her younger sister went during the school year. She was only curious, she had said, because Lily used to be around all the time, but in the past few years, she had been... well, nowhere. She didn't go to any of the other local secondary schools, and nobody remembered seeing her around often.
It was a perfectly valid and fair question to ask.
She had babbled wildly on about how Lily's grades hadn't been good enough to go to any of the local schools, and how she had finally received a letter from this boarding school in Scotland that specialized in helping people that were 'special'. It was a half-truth, to be fair – she just wasn't specific about what made Lily 'special'.
Her friend had raised an eyebrow, voicing her memories about how Lily had always been a remarkably intelligent girl when she was younger. Petunia had snapped at her, and said that Lily was at boarding school.
Her friend had stepped back defensively and accepted it.
After she had gone, Petunia had to sit down.
She reflected on the lies that she and her family had resorted to telling people, just to protect Lily's secret, and she hated it.
She knew that with every lie she told, Lily's position in her world was solidified further – she helped to protect her world by lying.
She hated the fact that Lily was, as she said herself, special.
She remembered the first time she met James Potter.
Petunia had met Vernon Dursley nearly three years previously, and now they were engaged. Everyone knew; the wedding was in June. Her parents had been slightly offbeat with Vernon at first, but they had warmed up to him following persistent dinners and pestering from Petunia. They recognized that he was everything Petunia had ever wanted – stability, security, normality – and had given them their blessing. They liked him well enough.
But her perfect little sister had to outdo her again.
It was summer, and Lily had come home with a mysterious smile on her face. After some questioning, Lily admitted that she had a boyfriend. Her mother immediately invited him around for dinner. Petunia had also been there, and her mother had added: "Bring Vernon too," almost as an afterthought.
The moment that James Potter had walked through the door that night, all smiles and greetings and gifts, her parents fell in love with him.
They loved his jokes and his anecdotes, and were particularly amused when they found out that he was the boy Lily had kissed all those years ago, and that he was still 'utterly besotted' with her.
Admittedly, Petunia could see why they loved him – he was tall and lanky, but in a handsome way, with a lopsided grin and twinkling hazel eyes behind his glasses. He radiated a sense of... presence and was extremely charismatic – even Vernon, who despised him more than she did, was drawn to him at first. But most of all, her parents adored him because he made Lily happy.
Petunia saw the glow on Lily's face, the sparkle in her eyes as she introduced James to her family. There was a bounce to her step that had never been there before, coupled with the constant beam on her face. He and Lily had a brilliant effect on each other, making them shine and shimmer like no other couple she had seen before. They were so in love Petunia almost felt ashamed of her own fiancé.
She shut that thought out of her head the second it entered it, and instantly grew angry.
How dare they waltz in here and ruin everything? How dare they make her feel this way? Vernon was a good man - he offered her security, normality and a comfortable life. Things that they could never have. Vernon loved her, and provided her with everything that she'd ever want and need. They would live a perfectly happy, normal life together.
But even with that reassuring thought in her mind, she could not help but watch the two of them all through dinner, beaming brightly at each other and stealing kisses when they thought nobody was looking. She watched them recount their tales at school and their playful teasing of each other.
She felt a jolt of shock when James declared that he would, without a doubt, one day marry Lily. Lily had rolled her eyes, but beamed at his announcement. Her father had laughed and clapped him on the back, wishing him luck. Her mother gave them her blessing instantaneously. Vernon's eyes had narrowed to the point when they were no more than little slits in his face. And she... she didn't know what to think.
They were so young and so reckless. They were so wild and uncontrolled – and free.
They were so alive, and bright, and vibrant.
They were everything she had imagined love and life to be, and she hated Lily for it.
Before James had left, her parents had invited him back for dinner again the following night. He apologized, and said that he already had plans, so then they invited him back for the night after. He had agreed smilingly – and nobody was surprised when her mother had given him a hug and a kiss on the cheek before Lily walked him out.
Petunia excused herself temporarily under the guise of needing the bathroom, and watched them from the front window.
"Well, that went well," he was saying. Lily had rolled her eyes.
"I think that they'd adopt you tomorrow if they could."
"Fine by me," he was grinning. "Can I share your room?"
Then he had ducked, laughing, as Lily walloped him around the head. She pouted, and he pulled her into his arms, planting a kiss on her forehead.
"You're going to be late for Remus and the others," Lily protested, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. He simply clung on tighter, and proceeded to kiss her thoroughly.
She couldn't watch anymore after that.
That night, Vernon had declared his eternal hate for 'that Potter boy', and said that he couldn't believe his Petunia, his perfect, normal Petunia, could be related to someone as weird and out of the ordinary as Lily. She had agreed absently, thinking deeply.
She agreed with Vernon – she hated James Potter. Hated how he was not normal, hated his heritage, hated how much her parents loved him. She hated how it took mere hours for her parents to love to him, yet it took months for them to even like Vernon. She hated how her parents had practically begged him to return for dinner, and how they had accepted him into the family without question.
She hated how utterly infatuated Lily was with him, and he with her. She hated how Lily was no longer Lily Evans, her adoring younger sister, but rather Lily Evans, witch and future wife of a wizard. She hated how in love they were. She hated how they would never have a simple, normal life, like she was destined to.
She hated more than anything how Lily and James were everything that Petunia and Vernon were not.
She remembered the first time she truly realized Lily was dead.
She knew it from the start – from Lily's eleventh birthday and the strange woman that turned up on the doorstep with her letter, that the wizarding world would kill her. She knew that Lily diving in head first into a world that she knew nothing about was completely ridiculous. It was a dangerous place to be, and she had told her that from the start.
But she didn't listen – and now some psychotic murderer was after her and her family.
Her husband was apparently part of some wealthy, well-respected family in their world. A position that had been, at one time, desirable, but now was what would probably kill them. This murderer wanted them on his side or out of the way or something along those lines, and she knew that Lily wouldn't give in. She would fight to the end, like she did with everything.
The Dursleys had been living a perfectly normal, safe and secure life since Petunia had chosen to cut Lily out of her life. She had never wanted to be a part of Lily's world, and after her parents' death, she had no reason to anymore. She had not seen or spoken to Lily in years, in fact, until that day her letter arrived.
It was short and to the point, which surprised Petunia because she remembered Lily's long and detailed letters from school. She kept it a secret from Vernon, hiding it under the mattress for three days before curiosity had finally gotten the better of her and she had read it.
In it, Lily had said straightaway that her family's lives were in danger. She didn't go into too many details, but there was enough in there to let her know that they had a mass-murdering Lord of some kind after them.
She said that soon she and James would be forced into hiding for the protection of their son. She said that Harry's godfather was his first legal guardian, but should anything happen to him, she wanted her only sister to be the one that raised her boy.
Petunia had been shocked, surprised, and angry at that.
She had said that Harry was no ordinary boy, but she wanted him to have an ordinary life (Petunia had snorted at the irony) whilst he still could. In the wizarding world, there would always be someone after him, but in Petunia's care, he would be safe. Lily had begged Petunia to help her out, this one last favour...
It was the word 'last' that cinched it.
Petunia had realized that when Lily wrote this letter, she was willing to die for her son. She was expecting to die, and soon, by the sounds of it. She was willing to do anything to keep her son safe, even sending him to her estranged sister... and, she had added at the end, this would probably be the last time she'd ever hear from her, both out of respect to her sister and due to her probable death.
By the time she wanted to write back, it was too late – Lily was dead, the boy's godfather was apparently in prison, and Harry, her nephew, was left to her.
The first time she looked into the boy's eyes, she felt shock. She realized that whilst Harry was here... Lily was gone. Harry, the constant reminder of the world that Lily had gotten herself mixed up in and died for. Harry, the symbol that even though Lily and James were dead, they still lived on in him. Harry, the reason why Lily was dead.
She hated how Lily had the chance to die for her son.
She hated how Lily had saved the world with her death.
She hated how Lily's memory would forever live on.
She hated how Lily was so brave.
She hated how Lily had the life that other people could only dream of.
She hated how Lily always knew what she wanted and was never afraid to get it.
She hated how Lily was so special, so unique, and shone like a star every moment of her life, however short it may have been.
She hated how Lily made her feel so plain and normal.
But most of all, she hated the jealousy that she felt for her sister every moment of her life, because Lily's only ever crime was being herself.