Witch Twist
Those who spout anger most venomously often are secretly spouting about themselves, trying to disguise from the world what they believe to be most wrong with themselves.
A toddler named after a flower, lay in her crib and wished desperately for the stuffed pony lying on the floor. The toy wiggled and lifted an inch from the floor, then fell.
The toddler became a child...
A girl stood in the Living room, shaking with rage. Behind her a tiny crack appeared in the window.
The child became a teen...
A teenage girl sat at the school lunch table and tried to listen in to her neighbors' whispered conversation. Suddenly, and inexplicably, she could hear them clearly, though their voices had not risen.
The teen became a mother...
A baby cried in the night. The young mother groaned as she climbed out of bed. She headed to the kitchen, child in arms. Why must the milk be heated before the baby drank?! It was 3 in the morning. She was too tired to heat the bottle. The mother pulled the full bottle out of the fridge, and felt it go from cold to warm within a few seconds.
The mother became an aunt...
"Get into your cupboard. How dare you turn your teacher's hair blue!"
"But I didn't Aunt Petunia! I swear!"
The aunt recalls a letter she received as a child...
Dear Petunia Evans,
I regret to inform you that you will not be able to attend Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry. You do not possess enough magically ability to be considered a witch. My deepest regrets.
Sincerely,
Albus Wolfric Brian Dumbledore
Headmaster
She was a freak. Not freak enough to be able to learn how to control her magic. Just freak enough to think she might get into the school her sister went to, but she was denied. Petunia spent the rest of her life jealous of those who were powerful enough to learn how to control their magic. She spouted every angry word she could about freakishness toward her sister and then her nephew and hoped that it was enough that they wouldn't notice that she was a freak too, just too weak for anyone to care.