Title: Petunia
Author: Unscathed
Disclaimer: They're not mine. I just knock them over and play with them, and dress them up in funny clothing and make them talk in high-pitched accents. They belong to J.K. Rowling and her gang of heartless publishers.
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Petunia had always been painfully skinny. As a child she had envied her sister's sweet curves, Lilly's fall of lustrous red hair, while her own body was this side of emaciated, and her hair lacked shine. No matter how much she ate, Petunia could never gain a pound. No matter how much she primped, Petunia never became pretty.
When Lilly's was eleven and Petunia was just eight, a message came in the mail. Not only pretty, Lilly became powerful and magical before Petunia's very eyes. Lilly became a witch.
When Petunia turned eleven, no letters came in the mail.
When Lilly was seventeen she was in love with James Potter. James had a rakish appearance and a charming smile. You could see in his eyes that James Potter loved Lilly Evans. When their eyes met, the room got hotter.
There was no heat when Petunia married Vernon Dursley. He seemed to respect her, despite the fact that she was not pretty, and she was too thin, and she had no magic. Vernon had no magic either.
Dudley Dursley was born heavy, and then he gained weight. Vernon didn't notice through his own bulk, but Petunia watched every pound. Dudley Dursley was not the youngest child that Petunia had been, and he wasn't ignored, not ever. Petunia made sure that her only son had what she had always wanted. He was not pretty, but that was less important for boys than it was for girls.
When he turned eleven, no letters came in the mail.
But then there was Harry Potter. A constant reminder of the sister that Petunia had reviled and envied and loved beyond all reason. She refused to feed him more than it took to keep him alive. She refused to give him the attention his mother had gotten. But he never went away. He remained unbroken and untamed, he dreamed of magic and sometimes when he was angry or scared, things would happen. His eyes were as green as Lilly's had been, his hair rakish like James Potters', and when he smiled—when Petunia let him smile—it was a combination of James's charm and Lilly's beauty.
When Harry Potter was eleven, a letter came in the mail. Then another, and another. They wanted him because he was the son of Lilly and James Potter.
And one life lay on Petunia's shoulders. In one very secret way, she had magic. Her magic, which was in her blood, which was Lilly's magic and Lilly's blood, kept one unwanted child alive. She could not kick him out because she could not kill him.
Petunia Dursley had power over one, pathetic life. It was all the power that Petunia had.
