Disclaimer: Pearl's a singer, she stands up while she plays the piano her
job is entertaining folks singing songs and telling jokes in a nightclub!
Don't worry, eventually I'll run out of songs and you won't be put through
such torture, anyone who's reading this. It's going to be quite a while,
though. Just so you know. Because I'm a choir student, so I know LOTS of
songs. MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!! (I love evil laughs. They're so much
fun. Anyway, getting to the actual story now)
Petunia stormed into the kitchen angrily, flinging her bookbag into a chair. Rose looked up from where she had been sitting at the table.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" she asked, her forehead creasing with worry.
"Nothing, Mum, only that the cheerleaders don't want me," Petunia snapped. "Other than that, everything's wonderful," she added sarcastically.
Lily walked in behind Petunia, carefully setting her bookbag down on the table.
"Petunia's upset because she didn't make the cheerleading squad," Lily explained to their mother. "And, she didn't make the school play, or the choir, or anything else that she tried out for."
"I'm sorry, Petty," Rose said, reaching over to hug her older daughter. "You're only eleven. And it's the end of the year. Things are bound to be a bit hectic. Maybe you should just focus on doing well in school," she added.
"Then how come, if things are so 'hectic,' Lily made the cheerleading squad, the play, the choir, and everything else that she tried out for?" Petunia demanded. "And don't call me Petty. That nickname is sooo old."
"Sweetie, Daddy called you Petty this morning and you didn't say a thing," Rose said, looking hurt.
"Daddy's different," Petunia said, not meeting her mother's eyes. Rose sighed and left the kitchen, knowing that Petunia's mood would last the whole afternoon.
"Petunia, I was just one of the last girls to try out for everything, so they remembered more about me than they did you," Lily said tactfully.
Petunia refused to accept this, though.
"I'm sure they just thought I was much too good to be in anything with them," she said snootily. "I mean, I'm obviously the best cheerleader there is, and I know I have a better singing voice than you, and I can act better than you can."
Lily sighed, not knowing what to say. She didn't want to hurt her sister's feelings, and she knew that her parents would ground her for life if she did manage to hurt Petunia's feelings somehow. Her parents had always been extremely sensitive about Petunia. Lily figured that was why they had moved away from their old neighborhood and that horrid Vernon Dursley. He had lived across the street from them and had loved to torment Petunia and Lily, smashing their mud pies, pulling their hair, and the regular things that four-year-old bullies did.
"Petunia, you can believe whatever you want," Lily said patiently. "But maybe I really did better than you did."
Petunia sniffed haughtily and stalked out of the room. Lily sank into a chair, feeling like she could cry. The day had not gone well, despite becoming one of the cheerleaders, making it into the choir, and getting the lead part in the play. On the way home from school, Petunia had told Lily that since she hadn't made anything she'd tried out for, Lily shouldn't be able to do any of the clubs or activities.
At that moment, Andrew walked in from the living room. In the past years, his hair had become streaked with gray, and there were worry lines on his forehead, much like the ones on Rose's forehead.
"Hi, sweetie," he said, putting his briefcase on the table next to Lily's bag.
"Hi, Daddy," Lily replied, standing and kissing his cheek.
"Well, I'm glad to see that one of my little girls isn't too big to kiss her father," Andrew said, somewhat sarcastically. Nevertheless, he hugged Lily and sat down at the table. "Petunia's upset over something, I see," he said.
"She's mad because I made everything I tried out for and she didn't," Lily said, her green eyes sad. "She says that I shouldn't be allowed to do any of them, just because she didn't make it. That's not fair, though!"
Andrew sighed. He loved both his daughters equally, but it seemed like Petunia was becoming more and more of a snob each day.
"Sweetie, you can do whatever it is you got into, as long as it doesn't interfere with your schoolwork," Andrew promised.
"Thank you, Daddy," Lily said, kissing his forehead, grabbing her bookbag, and going up the stairs into her room.
Andrew waited till she was out of the kitchen before tipping his head back and sighing.
"What I wouldn't give to have them as witches," he said sadly.
Meanwhile, Petunia was in the living room, in the middle of a row with her mother.
"Mother, I don't see why you won't let me wear makeup!" she yelled. "Milly does!"
Rose used the ever-popular response. "If Milly jumped off a cliff, would you jump off?" she retorted.
Petunia gave her a look like she was crazy.
"If all the other girls did, too, then yes I would!" she shouted.
"Lily doesn't wear makeup, why do you have to? You're beautiful just the way you are," Rose said, somewhat calmer.
"Lily, shmilly! I hate hearing all about Lily!" Petunia screamed. "She gets everything, and I have nothing!"
"What do you mean, you have nothing?" Rose demanded. "Who's the one who always makes Lily drop out of everything that she wants to do, simply because you didn't make it?"
"Well, if they don't want me to do anything, why would the want Lily?" Petunia retorted. "I mean, why's she so much better than I am?"
"Petunia, we are NOT having this discussion!" Rose said. In her voice was that tone that usually says "If you say so much as one more word, you're grounded for the rest of your life."
"Aaagh!" Petunia let out a yell and stormed up the stairs, two at a time. She slammed the door to her room.
Lily, whose room was right next to Petunia's, heard the picture on her wall rattle when Petunia's door made the whole house shake. She sighed, and rolled over on her bed, gazing about her room. Her pet, a small black cat with white paws, blinked at her from the top of her dresser, where she'd been sleeping. Until Petunia slammed her door and woke the cat up.
"You know what, Snitch?" she said absentmindedly.
She'd named the cat Snitch after the first day when she'd brought her home, and her father had said "That thing doesn't look much bigger than a snitch!" When Lily had asked Andrew what a snitch was, he clammed up and said it was nothing.
"Snitch, I wish there was such a thing as magic. I really do. Then, maybe, just maybe, I could magically make my family get along better."
Rose, who was walking down the hallway outside their rooms at the moment, heard Lily talking to her cat and stopped abruptly outside Lily's door.
"Mum, is that you?" Lily called, hearing the footsteps stop.
"Yes, sweetie, it's me," Rose said, pushing Lily's door open a smidge. (I love that word; it's so funny-sounding.)
"Is something wrong? You sound upset," Lily asked, concerned.
"Nothing's wrong, sweetie," Rose lied. She was sure she'd heard Lily say something about magic. "I just heard you say something, and I thought maybe you had called out to me, or something," she said weakly.
"I was talking to Snitch about how I wish there was magic," Lily explained, pushing her long red hair out of her face.
"Oh...I see," Rose said. "I love you, Lily," she added, closing the door. She sank to the floor, right there in the hallway, and wept.
Meanwhile, in a small town on the other side of London...
"Mum, I'm home!"
"Is that you, Jimmy?"
"Yes, Michelle, it's me! And don't call me Jimmy!"
A tall, thin boy with extremely messy black hair walked into the living room of the small, three-bedroom house. A short, skinny girl with long brown hair and green eyes appeared from the hallway.
"Mum's in the kitchen," she whispered in reply to the boy's unanswered question.
"Thanks, Michelle," the boy answered. He started toward the kitchen but was immediately pulled back by Michelle.
"She's talking to Dad," she said, still in a hushed voice.
"Dad's here?"
"Yes. Dad's furious, Mum's crying, everything's a mess," Michelle said, watching her brother hopelessly. "James, what are we going to do?"
James put his hands on his face, sighing angrily. "Why does he have to come and mess everything up?" he asked the ceiling.
"James, go in there and get him out of here, please," Michelle begged. As much as James despised his perfect little sister sometimes, he couldn't help reaching out and hugging her tightly.
"Don't worry, Chelle. He's not going to get anything from Mum this time," he said fiercely.
"Be careful, James," Michelle warned, backing away.
James stalked into the kitchen. His father, a tall man with brown hair that was streaked with gray and green eyes, was standing at the head of the table, hurling obscenities at his ex-wife.
"What are you doing here?" James spat at him.
"I'm getting what I deserve!" his father yelled back, his words slightly slurred.
"You're drunk," James said, disgusted. He put an arm around his mother, a frail woman with long black hair and brown eyes. "Mother, go into the living room. Chelle's in there. She'll take care of you," he said softly.
"Your mother's staying right here!" his father said, reaching out and roughly shoving James.
"Jonathan, don't!" his mother cried out.
James picked himself up off the floor.
"Haven't you done enough damage to this family?" he demanded. "You left us five years ago. Mum had to take two jobs, just to keep me and Michelle in school! Then, you come back and say you want the house. So we moved. Then, you want the car. So we gave you that and used the bus. Now, what the hell do you want?" he shouted, standing in front of his mother.
Jack wavered slightly, his eyes glazed. "I....need money," he stammered, looking right past his son. "Kathleen, give me the money."
James had had enough. He crossed to his father and pushed him backward slightly. Jonathan took a step back, unsure what was happening. James pushed him again, and Jonathan took another step back. This went on till James had succeeded in pushing his father out the door and down the sidewalk.
"Go. Home." James said through gritted teeth. He left his father standing there, looking as drunk as can be. He locked the door behind him.
"I'm sorry, Mum," James said, crouching besides her where she sat at the table. Michelle, who had come in while James was getting rid of their father, was standing on Kathleen's other side.
"I'm so sorry, children," she said, inbetween sobs. "I had no idea he was coming over, otherwise I would've locked the door."
"Don't worry about it, Mum," Michelle said.
"We'll be fine," James added.
"I just keep thinking that this is too much for a nine-year-old and an eleven-year-old to be going through," she continued as if she hadn't heard them.
"Don't worry, Mother. Maybe Grandmother will let you move in with her, once I'm at Hogwarts," James said, desperately hoping he was right.
"I don't know, James," Kathleen said. She put an arm around both of them. "What am I doing, sitting here crying, when my wonderful children are probably starving?" she said, trying to smile.
"I'll start getting something ready for dinner," Michelle volunteered.
"How was school, Jimmy?" Kathleen asked her son. She stood up, still about an inch shorter than her son.
"It was fun, Mum," James answered. "Basketball practice went really well, too. We did shooting drills and I was the best."
"Show-off," Michelle muttered.
"Michelle," Kathleen admonished.
"I'm teasing," Michelle said, opening her eyes as wide as they would go.
"James, I'm so proud of you, being able to handle taking care of your sister and me, and doing well in school, and doing sports as well," Kathleen said fondly.
"Yeah, well," James said, trying not to look too pleased.
"No, ever since your father left us, you've done a wonderful job of stepping in and being the man of the family," Kathleen said. "You're going to make some girl a wonderful husband."
"Ugh, James married? I feel sorry for the poor girl already!" Michelle said, shuddering.
"Thanks, Mum," James said quietly. In his heart, he was worried. What if he turned out to be exactly like his father, who couldn't hold a job to save his life? He hoped that whoever he ended up with, he didn't treat her as bad as his father treated his mother.
A/N: Sorry the chapters are so short. I'm kinda grounded from the computer as of right now (yes, my punishment increased, Michelle, it's no longer just the HP site but the whole frickin computer unless it's homework) so I have to keep them kinda short, so it looks more like I'm doing homework. I really am sorry, people.
Petunia stormed into the kitchen angrily, flinging her bookbag into a chair. Rose looked up from where she had been sitting at the table.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" she asked, her forehead creasing with worry.
"Nothing, Mum, only that the cheerleaders don't want me," Petunia snapped. "Other than that, everything's wonderful," she added sarcastically.
Lily walked in behind Petunia, carefully setting her bookbag down on the table.
"Petunia's upset because she didn't make the cheerleading squad," Lily explained to their mother. "And, she didn't make the school play, or the choir, or anything else that she tried out for."
"I'm sorry, Petty," Rose said, reaching over to hug her older daughter. "You're only eleven. And it's the end of the year. Things are bound to be a bit hectic. Maybe you should just focus on doing well in school," she added.
"Then how come, if things are so 'hectic,' Lily made the cheerleading squad, the play, the choir, and everything else that she tried out for?" Petunia demanded. "And don't call me Petty. That nickname is sooo old."
"Sweetie, Daddy called you Petty this morning and you didn't say a thing," Rose said, looking hurt.
"Daddy's different," Petunia said, not meeting her mother's eyes. Rose sighed and left the kitchen, knowing that Petunia's mood would last the whole afternoon.
"Petunia, I was just one of the last girls to try out for everything, so they remembered more about me than they did you," Lily said tactfully.
Petunia refused to accept this, though.
"I'm sure they just thought I was much too good to be in anything with them," she said snootily. "I mean, I'm obviously the best cheerleader there is, and I know I have a better singing voice than you, and I can act better than you can."
Lily sighed, not knowing what to say. She didn't want to hurt her sister's feelings, and she knew that her parents would ground her for life if she did manage to hurt Petunia's feelings somehow. Her parents had always been extremely sensitive about Petunia. Lily figured that was why they had moved away from their old neighborhood and that horrid Vernon Dursley. He had lived across the street from them and had loved to torment Petunia and Lily, smashing their mud pies, pulling their hair, and the regular things that four-year-old bullies did.
"Petunia, you can believe whatever you want," Lily said patiently. "But maybe I really did better than you did."
Petunia sniffed haughtily and stalked out of the room. Lily sank into a chair, feeling like she could cry. The day had not gone well, despite becoming one of the cheerleaders, making it into the choir, and getting the lead part in the play. On the way home from school, Petunia had told Lily that since she hadn't made anything she'd tried out for, Lily shouldn't be able to do any of the clubs or activities.
At that moment, Andrew walked in from the living room. In the past years, his hair had become streaked with gray, and there were worry lines on his forehead, much like the ones on Rose's forehead.
"Hi, sweetie," he said, putting his briefcase on the table next to Lily's bag.
"Hi, Daddy," Lily replied, standing and kissing his cheek.
"Well, I'm glad to see that one of my little girls isn't too big to kiss her father," Andrew said, somewhat sarcastically. Nevertheless, he hugged Lily and sat down at the table. "Petunia's upset over something, I see," he said.
"She's mad because I made everything I tried out for and she didn't," Lily said, her green eyes sad. "She says that I shouldn't be allowed to do any of them, just because she didn't make it. That's not fair, though!"
Andrew sighed. He loved both his daughters equally, but it seemed like Petunia was becoming more and more of a snob each day.
"Sweetie, you can do whatever it is you got into, as long as it doesn't interfere with your schoolwork," Andrew promised.
"Thank you, Daddy," Lily said, kissing his forehead, grabbing her bookbag, and going up the stairs into her room.
Andrew waited till she was out of the kitchen before tipping his head back and sighing.
"What I wouldn't give to have them as witches," he said sadly.
Meanwhile, Petunia was in the living room, in the middle of a row with her mother.
"Mother, I don't see why you won't let me wear makeup!" she yelled. "Milly does!"
Rose used the ever-popular response. "If Milly jumped off a cliff, would you jump off?" she retorted.
Petunia gave her a look like she was crazy.
"If all the other girls did, too, then yes I would!" she shouted.
"Lily doesn't wear makeup, why do you have to? You're beautiful just the way you are," Rose said, somewhat calmer.
"Lily, shmilly! I hate hearing all about Lily!" Petunia screamed. "She gets everything, and I have nothing!"
"What do you mean, you have nothing?" Rose demanded. "Who's the one who always makes Lily drop out of everything that she wants to do, simply because you didn't make it?"
"Well, if they don't want me to do anything, why would the want Lily?" Petunia retorted. "I mean, why's she so much better than I am?"
"Petunia, we are NOT having this discussion!" Rose said. In her voice was that tone that usually says "If you say so much as one more word, you're grounded for the rest of your life."
"Aaagh!" Petunia let out a yell and stormed up the stairs, two at a time. She slammed the door to her room.
Lily, whose room was right next to Petunia's, heard the picture on her wall rattle when Petunia's door made the whole house shake. She sighed, and rolled over on her bed, gazing about her room. Her pet, a small black cat with white paws, blinked at her from the top of her dresser, where she'd been sleeping. Until Petunia slammed her door and woke the cat up.
"You know what, Snitch?" she said absentmindedly.
She'd named the cat Snitch after the first day when she'd brought her home, and her father had said "That thing doesn't look much bigger than a snitch!" When Lily had asked Andrew what a snitch was, he clammed up and said it was nothing.
"Snitch, I wish there was such a thing as magic. I really do. Then, maybe, just maybe, I could magically make my family get along better."
Rose, who was walking down the hallway outside their rooms at the moment, heard Lily talking to her cat and stopped abruptly outside Lily's door.
"Mum, is that you?" Lily called, hearing the footsteps stop.
"Yes, sweetie, it's me," Rose said, pushing Lily's door open a smidge. (I love that word; it's so funny-sounding.)
"Is something wrong? You sound upset," Lily asked, concerned.
"Nothing's wrong, sweetie," Rose lied. She was sure she'd heard Lily say something about magic. "I just heard you say something, and I thought maybe you had called out to me, or something," she said weakly.
"I was talking to Snitch about how I wish there was magic," Lily explained, pushing her long red hair out of her face.
"Oh...I see," Rose said. "I love you, Lily," she added, closing the door. She sank to the floor, right there in the hallway, and wept.
Meanwhile, in a small town on the other side of London...
"Mum, I'm home!"
"Is that you, Jimmy?"
"Yes, Michelle, it's me! And don't call me Jimmy!"
A tall, thin boy with extremely messy black hair walked into the living room of the small, three-bedroom house. A short, skinny girl with long brown hair and green eyes appeared from the hallway.
"Mum's in the kitchen," she whispered in reply to the boy's unanswered question.
"Thanks, Michelle," the boy answered. He started toward the kitchen but was immediately pulled back by Michelle.
"She's talking to Dad," she said, still in a hushed voice.
"Dad's here?"
"Yes. Dad's furious, Mum's crying, everything's a mess," Michelle said, watching her brother hopelessly. "James, what are we going to do?"
James put his hands on his face, sighing angrily. "Why does he have to come and mess everything up?" he asked the ceiling.
"James, go in there and get him out of here, please," Michelle begged. As much as James despised his perfect little sister sometimes, he couldn't help reaching out and hugging her tightly.
"Don't worry, Chelle. He's not going to get anything from Mum this time," he said fiercely.
"Be careful, James," Michelle warned, backing away.
James stalked into the kitchen. His father, a tall man with brown hair that was streaked with gray and green eyes, was standing at the head of the table, hurling obscenities at his ex-wife.
"What are you doing here?" James spat at him.
"I'm getting what I deserve!" his father yelled back, his words slightly slurred.
"You're drunk," James said, disgusted. He put an arm around his mother, a frail woman with long black hair and brown eyes. "Mother, go into the living room. Chelle's in there. She'll take care of you," he said softly.
"Your mother's staying right here!" his father said, reaching out and roughly shoving James.
"Jonathan, don't!" his mother cried out.
James picked himself up off the floor.
"Haven't you done enough damage to this family?" he demanded. "You left us five years ago. Mum had to take two jobs, just to keep me and Michelle in school! Then, you come back and say you want the house. So we moved. Then, you want the car. So we gave you that and used the bus. Now, what the hell do you want?" he shouted, standing in front of his mother.
Jack wavered slightly, his eyes glazed. "I....need money," he stammered, looking right past his son. "Kathleen, give me the money."
James had had enough. He crossed to his father and pushed him backward slightly. Jonathan took a step back, unsure what was happening. James pushed him again, and Jonathan took another step back. This went on till James had succeeded in pushing his father out the door and down the sidewalk.
"Go. Home." James said through gritted teeth. He left his father standing there, looking as drunk as can be. He locked the door behind him.
"I'm sorry, Mum," James said, crouching besides her where she sat at the table. Michelle, who had come in while James was getting rid of their father, was standing on Kathleen's other side.
"I'm so sorry, children," she said, inbetween sobs. "I had no idea he was coming over, otherwise I would've locked the door."
"Don't worry about it, Mum," Michelle said.
"We'll be fine," James added.
"I just keep thinking that this is too much for a nine-year-old and an eleven-year-old to be going through," she continued as if she hadn't heard them.
"Don't worry, Mother. Maybe Grandmother will let you move in with her, once I'm at Hogwarts," James said, desperately hoping he was right.
"I don't know, James," Kathleen said. She put an arm around both of them. "What am I doing, sitting here crying, when my wonderful children are probably starving?" she said, trying to smile.
"I'll start getting something ready for dinner," Michelle volunteered.
"How was school, Jimmy?" Kathleen asked her son. She stood up, still about an inch shorter than her son.
"It was fun, Mum," James answered. "Basketball practice went really well, too. We did shooting drills and I was the best."
"Show-off," Michelle muttered.
"Michelle," Kathleen admonished.
"I'm teasing," Michelle said, opening her eyes as wide as they would go.
"James, I'm so proud of you, being able to handle taking care of your sister and me, and doing well in school, and doing sports as well," Kathleen said fondly.
"Yeah, well," James said, trying not to look too pleased.
"No, ever since your father left us, you've done a wonderful job of stepping in and being the man of the family," Kathleen said. "You're going to make some girl a wonderful husband."
"Ugh, James married? I feel sorry for the poor girl already!" Michelle said, shuddering.
"Thanks, Mum," James said quietly. In his heart, he was worried. What if he turned out to be exactly like his father, who couldn't hold a job to save his life? He hoped that whoever he ended up with, he didn't treat her as bad as his father treated his mother.
A/N: Sorry the chapters are so short. I'm kinda grounded from the computer as of right now (yes, my punishment increased, Michelle, it's no longer just the HP site but the whole frickin computer unless it's homework) so I have to keep them kinda short, so it looks more like I'm doing homework. I really am sorry, people.