The Evans Sisters
"Don't touch me," Petunia Evans hissed, pulling her hand away from her sister, as though her touch was poisonous. "I don't want to catch whatever it is that you have."
Five years ago, this was precisely the kind of thing that would have sent Lily into floods of tears, forcing her into a state of despair that only the acid tongue of her elder sister could cause. But the redheaded girl, so different in appearance to her much plainer and duller sister, was no longer eleven years old. She was stronger than all that.
"Is that really the best you can do, Tuney?" Lily teased, light-heartedly tossing her hair over one shoulder.
Petunia responded with a look of disgust. "I told you not to call me that anymore."
"It's what I've always called you. You never minded when we were younger."
"You weren't a freak back then."
The words stung Lily but she kept her composure, holding her head high as though she was above the verbal abuse she'd been receiving for five years now. What had she ever done to deserve this? They had been inseparable.
"I'm not a freak," Lily said defiantly, but her words were filled with weakness and self-doubt.
Petunia snorted. "You honestly think you're normal?" she sneered.
"Our differences are not our weaknesses, Petunia," Lily said seriously, trying to remember something a troublesome boy with messy black hair had once told her. "They're what make us special."
"Which is just another way of saying you're a freak."
There was no pleasing her. Not in the slightest. Arguing with someone as stubborn as Lily's sister was as foolish as trying to convince somebody that dragons were adorable, harmless creatures. More than anything, Lily longed for things to be the way they had been five years ago. Not in the sense that she hadn't been a witch (or rather, hadn't known she was a witch)—oh, no, she could never wish for that—but with regards to her relationship with Petunia.
They had been the closest of sisters, doing everything together, never one without the other. Lily had looked up to Petunia, respected and idolised her, and in return, Petunia had done all she could do to protect Lily and to make her feel as loved and adored as she deserved to be. But everything had changed so drastically.
Now, at fifteen years old, Lily was as far from Petunia as two sisters could be. No matter how hard she tried to repair the damage that had been done in their lives by the revelation of her abnormal abilities, Lily couldn't convince Petunia to see her as anything other than a freak. It was humiliating and shameful. What had become of the Evans Sisters?
"I know it's hard for you, James, but you have to—James—are you listening to me!?"
"Lily, have you seen this? It's so cool!"
"Yes, it's fascinating but you—James!"
"Mhmm?"
"Put it down and listen to me!"
"I am listening to you."
"No, stop fiddling with the salt shaker—it's really not that interesting—"
"Well, I've never seen one before. It's so… Muggle-y!"
"James!"
"Okay, okay, I'm listening."
"Good. Anyway, as I was saying, you have to try and act normal, okay?"
"Normal how?"
"Well, not normal exactly, just less, well… you know what I mean."
"I'm not sure I do…"
"Fine. Just listen to me—absolutely no wand, okay? Nothing about Hogwarts or spells or Quidditch."
"Nothing about Quidditch!?"
"Most definitely not! I'm not joking around here—you can't mention a single thing about magic."
"But—"
"Not a single thing!"
"Not even—"
"Not. A. Single. Thing."
"Okay, okay, I get it," James Potter conceded, raising his hands in defeat.
Lily scowled at him, unsure whether he understood precisely the seriousness of the situation and what exactly they were dealing with. But she had to trust him. She had to believe he wouldn't let her down.
"Oh my gosh, I think that's them!" Panic engulfed Lily's body as two perfectly plain people caught her eye. The tight-lipped, pale-faced woman that had just entered the restaurant couldn't be anybody other than Petunia Evans. And the round-faced, heavily moustached man by her side, so very ordinary and dull, couldn't be anybody other than the man she would be to marry. In a sad and boring way, Lily supposed they were perfect for each other.
"That's your sister?" James asked in surprise. "I was expecting somebody way hotter."
"James!" But before Lily could yell at him and warn him to act more normal again, she caught Petunia's eye.
From across the bustling restaurant, the Evans Sisters locked eyes. For one wonderful moment, Lily saw the familiar gleam of Petunia's warm brown eyes—the eyes she'd lovingly gazed into with admiration so many times as a young girl—and there was a connection between them that was far stronger than any magic she'd encountered at Hogwarts. But all too soon, it was gone, just like a light going out. The cold, hard glare of her eyes was something foreign and unfamiliar to Lily—it was like the ghost of a happy, loving girl. A girl she could barely remember. Almost hesitantly, the dull couple approached the table where James and Lily were sat.
"Lily," Petunia said stiffly, as cold and hard as the look in her eyes.
"Petunia." Lily attempted to offer her sister a smile, but her face quickly fell as it remained unreturned. What had happened to the Evans Sisters? When had they become strangers?
"Hi," James said excitedly, extending a hand towards Petunia's broad fiancé, much to his horror. "James Potter—the only true desire of Lily Evans' heart!"
Lily was mortified, just as her sister and soon to be brother-in-law were.
"Vernon Dursley," he grunted, sceptically taking James' hand into his own. His nose had wrinkled in disgust, as though he were touching something he'd found scraped along the back of his fridge.
As the odd party introduced themselves to each other and settled down at the table, Lily couldn't help but feel as though she were meeting Petunia for the first time too. The woman that sat opposite her then was not the same girl who'd attempted to shelter and protect her as children.
When an uncomfortable silence immediately fell upon the group, Lily reached out a hand to her sister, planning to ask her how she'd been. The reaction was automatic. With the same look of horror as she'd had when Lily was fifteen, Petunia pulled her hand away with a hostile hiss of "Don't touch me." And though Lily had adapted to this treatment as a student at Hogwarts, the pain and betrayal she felt in that moment was overwhelming to the point where she felt close to tears.
Promptly noticing this reaction, James leapt into action, furious with what he'd just witnessed. "What's that all about?" he demanded. "She was hardly going to hurt you!"
"No," Petunia jeered, suddenly gaining an uncharacteristically crazed look in her eyes, "precious little Lily wouldn't even dare." Her voice was mocking, dripping with sarcasm as the pent-up jealousy of the past ten years began to seep from her. "Perfect Lily," she spat. "So special, so different, so unique. Nothing less than as sweet as honey!"
"Petunia," Lily pleaded in a broken voice, her lip quivering.
"Apologise!" James roared. "She's done nothing that could possibly have upset you!"
Petunia seemed taken aback by this outburst, but before James could go any further, Vernon Dursley was adding his own grunting to the chorus. "Here, here! What do you mean by this? You can't talk to my fiancée like that—apologise immediately!"
"I shan't apologise until she does!" James protested.
"Stop it!" Lily cried. "Just stop it. All of you!" She had her hands raised high, silencing the table, highly embarrassed by the attention their commotion was receiving.
Petunia's eyes were wide and her mouth as firm and tight-lipped as ever. Vernon was so red in the face that he was bordering on purple. James was sat on the edge of his seat as though ready to pounce, his lips curled into an animalistic snarl.
"This was a mistake," Petunia said quietly, refusing to look anybody in the eyes.
"We can change, Tuney," Lily said, desperately trying to reach out on an emotional level, despite all the pain she'd caused her throughout her childhood.
"Don't call me that."
Noticing that James seemed ready to burst into furious outcries again, Lily placed a tender hand on his arm, as though trying to tell him to keep quiet, and that she could handle it by herself. Never had she felt so loved and protected by any other person before. It sickened her to think that the thing he was trying to protect her from was her own sister.
"This was a mistake," Petunia repeated.
"I ruddy well agree," Vernon grunted beside her.
"We're going to leave now."
"Petunia," Lily pleaded once more, but it was hopeless.
In time with each other, Lily and Petunia both rose from the table, where no more than five minutes ago they had just sat down. Lily motioned to James for him to sit still, whilst Vernon impatiently grumbled that he'd be waiting in the car as he lumbered away.
"We don't have to do this, Petunia," Lily said in a quiet voice.
"Have a nice life, Lily," Petunia replied, ignoring her sister's plea. Though her tone was sour, Petunia Evans, soon to be Dursley, meant every word beneath the hostility. Somewhere deep inside her heart, a child's voice was calling out, but the words that left her lips were full of nothing but spite and bitterness.
Without even so much as a nod or a fleeting smile, Petunia turned on her heel and walked out of the restaurant, and out of her sister's life. Lily watched her go with a sorrow and despair she'd never experienced before. The woman who walked away was even more of a stranger to her than the woman who had walked in.
And unbeknownst to the two, that was the last interaction the Evans Sisters would ever experience that side of the grave.
Originally written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition—Round 11
Team: Wigtown Wanderers
Position: Beater 1
Siblings: Lily and Petunia Evans
Additional Prompts: Change and Sweet as honey
