Petunia Evans/Dursley
How does it feel, to always come second to someone else?
She wishes that she could have been good enough. That she could have gone to that school with her sister; that she wasn't constantly left behind, forever stuck in Lily's shadow. They could have been great, together. But it wasn't so. Lily went on to be great, to be absolutely perfect at everything she ever tried, whilst Petunia stood forgotten in the background.
She wishes that she hadn't been so horrible to her sister. Everytime she saw Lily, it was like looking at everything she could never be; all she could see was the lack of faults possessed by her sister, compare against her own many imperfections. So, she mocked the things she loved most about the little redhead; she built a protective shield of hatred around herself. In the end, it was all pointless. In the end, she could never truly hate Lily. All she felt was love and pride, and just a hint of jealousy.
She wishes that Lily hadn't died. Her sister never deserved any hatred, not from anyone. Why would anyone ever want to kill her, she practically radiated love; she always had. Deep down, Petunia wishes she could have taken her sister's place, that she could be the one who was dead. After all, what was her life really worth, whilst her sister lay cold and dead?
She wishes she had given Harry a better life. He never should have been treated with such utter disdain, almost bordering on hatred. However, she couldn't help it. It was like all her frustrations in life just came pouring out at the sight of those green eyes, eager to attack such a helpless and familiar target. Everyday the guilt came close to overwhelming her, yet never once did she relent in her actions. Not until it was far too late.
She wishes that she could have seen Harry just one last time, to apologise if for nothing else. By now, the threat must be over; it must have been for a long time now. There were no more mysterious deaths on the news, or anything strange at all. So, why didn't he come back? Day in and day out she waited, her heart leaping everytime the doorbell rang. If she were being honest with herself, she knew he would never come back. After all that she had done, why should he?
Most of all, she wishes that she hadn't been so terrified of magic. That fear was the root of every black spot in her life, and in those of the people around her. She knew it was slightly irrational; she was more likely to be run over by a bus than to be killed at the hands of a witch. Yet, she couldn't help the fear that infected both herself, and anyone who dared come too close.
AN: Hey! Thanks to those people who have read every chapter; it keeps me motivated! Anyway, if anyone has any more ideas for characters, please share them. I have a few of my own, but I'm finding them really difficult to write for so I've been putting them off. Please review.
Oh, and thanks again to ModernDayRapunzel for this idea. I swear that you can sometimes be my favourite person. Lol.
