DISCLAIMER: These are not my characters. They belong solely to JK Rowling. The dialogue in scenes that appear in Deathly Hallows is mostly hers.
The two little girls threw open the door to their home, the shorter one looking as if she was on the verge of tears and the older looking quite indignant. The older girl, with a harsh little face, turned to slam the door, staring out into the empty street as if someone was standing in the road, someone whom the little girl did not want to speak to.
She slammed the door with an "Ugh!" of disgust, and then marched into the kitchen after the younger girl. The eleven-year-old went immediately to the refrigerator and yanked the door open, obviously perturbed with something. "Do you want something?" she asked her sister harshly.
"No," the trembling voice of the younger, red-haired girl said.
"Are you sure?" the blonde asked her as she pulled out a large bottle of grape juice.
"Yes," the other girl said from the kitchen table, her head in her hands.
The blonde went to the cupboard and pulled out a glass cup with the picture of a tall pine tree on it. She pulled another, matching, down from the tall cupboard and proceeded to fill them both with grape juice. Looking up at her younger sister, who sat silently at the kitchen table, tears plunking out of her eyes, the blonde girl said softly, "Don't cry."
The little redhead didn't look up, but nodded slowly. The skinny blonde girl walked over to her sister, placing one of the glasses of grape juice in front of her sister. Despite her previous protests, the redhead picked up the glass and began to sip the juice between pursed lips. But still, tears ran out of her pretty green eyes and into the glass, salt mingling with the sweet juice.
"Don't cry, Lily," the blonde one repeated, sitting across from her sister.
"I'm not." Lily's tone was firm.
"He's just a stupid idiot," the blonde one said.
"But, Petunia," Lily said, her voice a slight whine, "he called me—called me—"
"Who cares?" Petunia asked. "What he was said was the stupidest thing I've ever heard. 'I'm a wizard,' yeah right! There's no such thing as witches or wizards! He probably just likes to make believe he is one because he has nothing better to do at that house of his." Petunia's voice was filled with contempt as she mentioned the boy.
"But he called you—"
"Something so stupid that I don't even know what it means." Petunia paused, thinking. "He probably doesn't know what it means, either. He probably heard it from his dad. He's always drunk, who knows what comes out of his mouth?" She fell silent, but Lily could hear her mutter the word Muggle under her breath, with a scoff of disbelief. "Just forget him."
The two little girls sat in silence for a moment, hearing furniture being moved around upstairs, where their parents were painting Petunia's bedroom yellow. Lily lowered her glass, matching it up with a ring in the wooden table, where Petunia had left a full glass of water the week before. Petunia took another sip from her glass, looking oddly at Lily.
"But—" Lily's voice was choked, even though all of her tears were now gone. "I am different, right, Tuney?" Petunia sighed, lowering her glass as well. "All those things I can do—"
"Even though Mummy says not to," Petunia muttered.
"Only because Mummy doesn't know what they are!" Lily cried. "No one does! This Snape boy…" her voice trailed off as she stared at the purple liquid inside her glass. "That Snape boy is the only one who seems to know. Maybe," she said, a little breathlessly, both excited and scared at the prospect, "maybe, he's right."
"Right about what?" Petunia cried, a little too shrilly.
"Maybe I am a witch."
The words seemed to hang in the air between the two girls. "Pah!" Petunia exclaimed in disbelief, and then got up from the table to empty her glass into the sink. "Please." With that dismissive word, she ran out of the kitchen and bounded up the staircase, her ponytail bouncing.
"Petunia!" Lily cried, following her, leaving her glass on the table. She ran her tongue over her sticky lips, where a ring of purple color had formed from the juice. Lily didn't think it was impossible; she and Petunia had learned all about witches and witch trials in history class. Lily ran up the stairs and almost collided with Petunia, who stood watching her sweating mother and father slap bright, nauseating yellow paint onto the walls of Petunia's tiny bedroom.
Petunia looked positively delighted, and ran into the middle of the tarp-covered room, slightly sliding. "It's great!" she exclaimed, running to her father, who stood on a ladder, trying to reach the top of the room with a brush. "May I try?"
"Of course," her father replied with a laugh. "There's a brush right over there." He pointed to where the bucket of yellow paint was lying, and Petunia picked up a dry brush and began to paint the wall next to the electrical socket.
"Tuney," Lily began again, walking to where her sister sat on the floor. "Don't you think—"
But Petunia had thrown Lily a look that clearly said, Not around Mum and Dad. Lily fell silent as Petunia continued to paint.
"You want to paint, Lily dear?" her mother asked from where she stood next to the window. "My back is killing me. I just need a tiny break." Of course Lily couldn't say no. She walked slowly over to where her mother held out the brush and took it, a drop of yellow spilling onto her big toe. She cast another look over to Petunia, who seemed to have forgotten all about the Snape boy and Lily being called a witch.