Prologue

I remember when I was three years old and my parents first told me that I would be getting a little brother or sister.

I was playing in my room with my toys and my parents came in. "Honey," my mother said, "We need to talk to you." I turned to face them while I still held onto my little horse toy.

"How would you like a new brother or sister?"

I looked up at that. On TV girls always got along with their brothers or sisters. "Would we be friends?" I asked.

My father laughed and nodded as he picked me up and set me on his knee. "Of course you would."

"Best friends," my mother added.

I beamed.

The next day, we started moving all my things into the room down the hall. The new baby had to have the room that was closest to my parents. I was kind of sad because I loved my room. And the room I was moving into was smaller. But mom and dad promised that after a while I would my old room back. That made me fell better.

When we finished painting the new room a pretty shade of light yellow, I was ready for my new sibling.

"Let's go get her," I said.

"We can't yet honey," my mother told me, "And we don't know if the baby will be a her yet."

"But I want a sister," I whined.

When Lily was born, I started to wish I had a brother.

When she first came home with us, I was more excited than I had ever been. It felt like a second Christmas. She was just a pink bundle in a car seat. When my mom pulled her out and held her, I excitedly bounced next to my mom, trying to get a better look at my new sister. My mom tried to take a step and I accidentally landed on her foot. She almost fell but was barely able to catch herself by grabbing onto the stair railing. Lily started to fall from my mother's arms and she started screaming.

"Petunia Evans!" My father yelled. I covered my ears with my hands to drown out the screaming and yelling. Tears started to spring to my eyes as my mother hushed my father and told him to take the baby into the kitchen. When my father and sister were in the kitchen and all I could hear was a muffled cry coming from Lily, my mother sat me down on the stairs.

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "I didn't mean too."

"I know honey," my mother said, "You're just going to have to be more careful." I nodded. "Lily is a little baby and can break very easily." I kept nodding. "The baby will probably take most of the attention for a while." I looked down at my sandals and played with one of my pig tails. "Honey?"

I looked up at my mom. "Alright," I said.

My mom smiled. "I'm gonna go check and see how your father's doing."

She got up and walked to the kitchen, leaving me on the stairs alone.

That night, Lily kept waking up and crying. Our rooms were right next to each other so I was always the first one to wake up. About the thousandth time she woke up, I had had it. I went into her room and stood by her crib, looking down on her.

"Please be quiet," I pleaded, "I'm sleepy and I have school tomorrow. Please stop crying little Lily."

She screamed louder.

I couldn't take it. I was three and I had pre-school in the morning. I know that sounds stupid, but it was going to be my first day and I was nervous. I didn't have any friends or anything. So, I sat down and cried. I hugged my knees to my stomach and cried into my folded arms.

Then I felt someone kick me. I gasped and looked up. No one had kicked me but my father had tripped on me.

"Petunia," he said in exasperation, "What are you doing up? Go to your room!"

That was the second time he started yelling at me that day. He had never yelled at me before. I ran to my room and continued to cry. Why was he so mad at me? The only reason I could come up with was Lily.

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A/n Tell me what you think. This is just the prologue so the chapters will get longer and more interesting.