Let them win
Lily Evans' eyes widen in wonder; the bricks move apart as if alive. Petunia scowls, a cold shiver runs down her spine. She sneaks a hasty glance towards her parents and her perfect little sister, all are awestruck at the "beauty" of Diagon Alley. She wrinkles her nose at what on earth they are wearing; pointed hats that are mouldy green and look like they've come from that shady costume shop down the street from their house, brightly coloured robes that look to big for them and drag along the ground. Her small beady eyes squint at the harsh colours as well as Lovely Lily's shiny, radiant, bright, white beam. Everything blurs together and suddenly Pathetic Petunia feels very nauseous, of course she doesn't let it show, she won't have these freaks win and she won't let her "family" win. What kind of family are they anyways- she doesn't need them! She doesn't need parents who regard her straight A grades with a simple nod and "That's nice dear", who go to parent's evening saying, "If you think that's good, you should see Lily- I'm so proud of her!", who are always telling her to be more like her younger sister. Two things she wants the most are for her mum to cuddle her and say, "I love you no matter what." and for her dad to grip her shoulder and say, "Tuney, I'm so proud of you." These wishes are never fulfilled of course.
Her parent's and Lily are still standing there taking it in, so she takes the first step, before them, before Lily. Almost automatically, Lily then her parents step through the opening as well, as if she were a guinea pig to test for land mines. They look through shops and buy whatever catches their eyes, Petunia is careful not to touch any except one. A pink feathered quill which writes by itself, Petunia allows she to ask for it, But she can't have it.
"It's only for special people like Lily, I think." They say. Oh, Petunia knows she's not special; she only wants to dream she is. She will never be "Daddy's Little Angel" or "Mummy's Pretty Princess" unlike the rest of the little girls she knows.
She trudges behind them to the stick shop; the freaky old-man asks if she getting one as well, for a second she tempted to say yes but alas, her hopes are shot down by, "Oh, 'Tuney isn't magical like Lily." The man dares looks at her with such pity!
Before they leave he says, "You should always love and look out for your children."
"Don't worry," they reply, "Even if Lily's a little unique from us we'll still love her. Magic is a wonderful thing and we love Lily even more with it." Then the door slams shut and the freaky old-man gives that look of pure, utter pity and sympathy, 'Tuney returns it with a scowl.
… … … … … …
A few weeks later, Pretty Lily is off to Platform 9 & ¾ and her parents look at her for the first time in ages, a slight disgust fills their eyes as they look between their plain, less-than-perfect child and their charming, sweet, lovable, beautiful, more-than-perfect fairy princess. "Oh, Petunia, I wish you had magic like Lily." They say and Lily nods happily. Petunia bites her lip hard, trying not to say every fowl word she knows; instead, she puts on a fake smile that threatens to keep falling and hugs them. Petunia stays at home alone while they go to Kings Cross Station. Walking slowly and deliberately toward the mirror which hangs above the mantle place, she lets a small fraction of frustration leak out, her tall, willowy frame is taken over by humungous, heaving, wrecking sobs. She allows herself to become a mess. For the first time ever, Plain ol' Tuney lets them win.