I do not own Harry Potter or any other media referenced in this fanfiction.
AN: As my last story was unfortunately (though I admit, logically) removed, I'll be starting another to keep me busy. I'll be applying my same rules. The focus of this fanfiction is still Harry. As of this moment, and at least for Harry's first and second years, I have no intention to include any pairings. No bashing of any character, Weasly, Dumbledore, or other. With the exception of Petunia, I mean to write all characters as realistically and in-character as I can. If you have any advice for me, feel free. Even a flame can tell me 'Quit while you're ahead.'
Petunia Dursley was a timid women. She wished, she hoped, she dreamed. Every child wants to be special. Petunia, like so many, just wanted to be special.
Her sister was special instead.
Lily noticed that. How her Tuney became more and more introverted. Maybe in an alternate universe, Petunia would be spiteful. This Petunia felt like all her world was shot. There was magic. People had names that meant something. There were phrophesies. There were heros. There was an easier place in the world, without any hardship. And as a twelve year old, the most important, the magic, was something she was told in no uncertain words she'd never have.
Poor Tuney. She's happy for me, I can tell.
In the next moment, Lily Evans made a sincere promise to herself.
I'm going to be the best witch I can be for you.
Lily studied hard. She didn't have time for much else, even playing with her friend Severous. When she wasn't working, she was writing. Everything that happened to her she passed on to her sister. When Petunia showed an interest, she started to include the things she'd learned in her lessons too. A squib was taught all about the magical world, even if it was not theirs. Why should Tuney be any different?
When Lily came back next summer, glowing with happiness from what must be a special feeling, the first thing she did was take Petunia to Diagon Alley. The family did not have much money to spend, but Lily was thrifty. She spent it well - an ice cream with Tuney, to catch up, an unavoidably expensive mirror, so that they talk year next (Lily would have to initiate the conversation - magic was needed for almost everything), a set of used books to study, a heavy cauldron, and a beginners potion kit. You see, Lily and Petunia had learned something incredible.
Potions. Lily had written about potions and Petunia had tried.
It had been the product of simple curiosity. Lily had made a simple potion in her classes - rosemary needles, a four-leaf clover, water, and the wave of a wand, with no magic expended on the part of the brewer. Little talent required - little effect too, it did nothing but lazily bubble for a hard to find four-leaf clover. But rosemary, clover, and water unheated should not bubble.
But how did she have a wand to wave?
Consider: a witch is classified as a magical creature. A sprig of holy is easily cut in two and carved in the middle, a hair acquired from a brush on a dresser. Throw the ingredients into the cooking-cauldron from your mothers kitchen and give the wave of your make-shift wand.
Magic.
