Seven-year-old Charlie Potter giggled as the swing-set creaked under her light, barely-there weight.

It was a glorious day- the sky was bright blue and cloudless, and a pleasant breeze ruffled her already-tousled black hair. And, on top of all that, there were no annoying cousins to call her "freak".

She swung steadily on her rusty old swing, determined to touch the sky with one outstretched hand. She was going to do it this time- she was going to grab the small wisp of a cloud so tauntingly near her and she was going to show her cousin, Dudley, and he'd be so jealous he'd pee his pants.

But, when she was high enough to outstretch a hand to reach the blue in the sky, she accidentally fell over.

Instead of free-falling and splatting her head like a watermelon, she floated gently onto the ground, like she always did. Meanwhile, her cousin, Dudley, was rushing over to the playground with a furious look on his face.

"FREAK!" He yelled, his fat face wobbling as he did. "I'm going to tell Mummy!"

He didn't have to. She was already watching the painfully familiar scene from her house, peering out the window with eyes glimmering as she experienced déjà vu.

The scene was so tauntingly familiar…

"FREAK! I'm telling Mummy!" young Petunia Evans screeched at her sister, Lily.

She always hated her sister, with a passion. She always outdid her- in her looks, in her talent- and now this? It wasn't fair. She was probably even going to marry a hunk and have a beautiful little girl. Petunia was probably going to marry a fat arsehole and have an ugly son.

Fate definitely wasn't in her favor.

"I'm not a freak, Petunia!" The other girl cried in an annoyingly perfect voice. Petunia felt like hitting her.

"Yes, you are, and I'M TELLING MUMMY!"

Before her sister could react, Petunia Evans dashed back into her house to tell her mother about her sister's unnaturalness. Hopefully, she'd be committed into an asylum.

"I'm not a freak, Dudley!" Charlie was currently yelling. Her hands were balled up in fists, green eyes so eerily similar to Petunia's dead sister's glinting with anger.

"Yes, you are, and I'M TELLING MUMMY!" Dudley stuck his tongue out and laughed. Charlie watched with tear-filled eyes as he rushed back into the house to tell his mum.

Petunia watched as her niece began to sob- harsh, loud sobs that seemed to fill the entire neighborhood. She watched as her son began to tell her all about her freakish-ness. She watched the whole thing with blank eyes, wishing things turned the other way around like it hadn't for her.

She could've said what she always wanted to tell her sister: "That's so cool, Lily! You're awesome."

But she hadn't. She called her a freak. Did her sister also cry, like Charlie? Or did she just continue to swing on her swing-set?

She could've prevented this all- her sister and brother-in-law's deaths, her orphaned niece moving with them, everything- if she hadn't uttered that F-word that afternoon.

But she had.

And she lost her sister because of it.

Instead of losing it completely, she turned back to her son and smiled painfully as he began to taunt Charlie.

"She is a freak, Dudley." She said stiffly. "Do not hang out with them. They'll give you nothing but pain."

At least that part was true.

Hey, guys!
I've been thinking a lot about Petunia and that if she hadn't called her sister a freak, none of this would've ever happened. (And by the way, it's my own version on how things happened. I know that when Lily turned the blossom into a flower is when Petunia actually called her a freak, but I don't actually care much.)

Think about it: Lily would've probably made her godmother, as well as Secret-Keeper if she was still on good terms with her. Voldemort wouldn't have suspected it, if Petunia still put on the façade that she hated her. So he wouldn't have ever found out Lily and James and Harry (or, rather, Charlie) that evening and they wouldn't have ever gotten killed.

Petunia must've been so bitter about it, she took her bitterness on her sister's son that looked so eerily like her dead sibling. She probably knew she could've saved two innocent lives that day if she hadn't called her sister a freak.

Love, hugs, and all that jazz,

Lyricalyrics