House: Gryffindor
Position: Potions
Standard
Prompt: And with it, on the wings of a butterfly, joy was born into the world.
Word Count: 1044
Hungry, she felt hungry. Petunia remembered the day like it was yesterday. It was the reason why her blood that protected Harry. Lily had not been stupid when she tied Harry to her sister and, by extension, her sister's magic.
Petunia was not magical the way Lily was. Lily had been something special. It had taken years for Petunia to admit that her sister was good at what she did. Magic was Lily's second language, however, it was a language that Petunia spoke too.
The reasoning was stupid. Petunia should have known better, but at nineteen she knew that time was running out. She was short on time and all the stories told her that this was what she needed to do. The Dark Arts textbook's Lily had stolen from the Hogwarts Library had provided more than enough information.
The plan was cobbled together with little finesse. It had taken months for every piece to be perfectly placed. They decided that the cemetery would be the perfect location. Lily met Petunia on a Halloween night. It was something reminiscent of their childhood, back when Magic had been a fun part of the make-believe world that they had created.
Petunia had expected there to be a whole set of rituals. But they didn't need anything more than a ceremonial dagger and a family member's grave. That was all it had taken. Petunia hissed as her blood mixed with Lily's on top of their grandfather's grave.
"That's perfect," Lily said about half an hour later.
The night had grown colder and while Lily was supposed to already be back at school, she had taken a minute to admire her handiwork. Petunia grinned at her, her sister's wand in her hands. She could actually feel the magic within it. The way it thrummed with the same energy Petunia associated with her sister.
"I guess, I'm in charge of securing part two," Petunia said.
"Yep, remember to be respectful Petunia Evans," Lily said packing up the dagger and giving her sister one last hug. "I promised I would make you magical."
Gringotts was a place Petunia had only really visited under her parent's supervision. Petunia marvelled at how archaic the entire set up was, but she was here on a mission. She clutched the crisp bills in her hand and waited patiently to have her money exchanged.
The goblin who exchanged her money gave her a scathing look. It was almost as if he could see the other soul that had lodged itself in her body. However, it was not their place to judge, so they let Petunia go with a nod of warning. There was very little good that came out when Muggles meddled with Magic.
It had almost been too easy to find silver knives. All it had taken was a sweet word or two and directions into Knockturn Alley. The second part of the ritual was one that many scholars warned would be the hardest to obtain, but honestly, Petunia wanted it so badly,
She wanted what her sister had and it was not her fault that this was the only way that the power her sister had could be shared equally. Besides, Petunia wasn't stealing anything, it had been a gift willing given.
The Dementor that had answered Petunia's letter felt so cold. Petunia could see the people around her in the alley move away. Even amongst the lowlifes that populated Knockturn Alley, a dementor was not a creature anyone should be messing with.
Not that Petunia had taken that into consideration. This was going to be an exchange and like any person who had morals, she would uphold her side of the bargain. They wanted silver and she was the only person who would give it to them without question.
Petunia would give them her soul if it meant that she would be able to become magical. The Dementor touched her forehead with their finger and immediately the world around her felt cold. She relived every awful feeling there was to live and more than that, she felt hungry. A deep aching hunger for more.
The Dementor left her in Knockturn Alley, their hand clutching the daggers and with it, Petunia finally felt whole.
The thing no one mentions about soul magic is how it changes your very being. Petunia was not smart about it. However, being able to feel Lily under her skin was a small price than she was willing to take on.
The initial adjustment period had been terrible. Petunia had stayed home from school for weeks on end because of the raging flu. It was awful, she was hungry all the time, never warm enough regardless of how many layers of clothing she wore.
It had taken a full week for her to realise that this was her normal. That feeling Lily's every emotion, at the expense of her own, would be normal. Normal, in the very mundane sense, was overrated, however, being extraordinary came with its own challenges too. It was in the way that Petunia knew nothing would ever be enough.
Petunia tried so hard to keep it under control. But Dark Magic always came to claim its price. Lily had come home for Easter and looked at her sister in shock. While Petunia had never been the most beautiful woman, she had never looked this unhealthy.
"You said you would write if anything went badly!" Lily said ruffling through a large grimoire in hopes of finding a solution. "You promised me that the side-effect were things you could handle."
Petunia shrugged. "I just wanted to be like you, Lily. All I ever wanted was to be magical and no price is too small for that."
Lily looked at her sister in disgust and a little bit of anger. Petunia could feel her sister's every emotion. After all, a piece of her sister's soul was in her and that made Petunia far more special.
"I am magical though. I am you."
Lily took two steps back. "We are at war and I just turned you into a weapon. Do you not see that?"
Petunia shrugged, regardless of the consequences she was happy. And with it, on the wings of a butterfly, joy was born into the world.