The Reply

Petunia's face flushed brightly. There had been other people like her in her family? There was another…freak? It was her family's fault! She glared at her father. Why is he so pleased with himself? If he's so happy, why doesn't he go!

Cheryl's cheeks glowed pink and she flung her arms around Petunia.

"Honey, we're so happy for you! Why haven't you sent them a reply? They won't think much of our family if you don't reply promptly!"

How just like Mum, Petunia thought, angrily. "Listen, I am not going to some freak school! I am not different, I am not like greatgreatgreatgrandmawhat'sherfaceIamnormalandIamNOTGOING!" She declared, very fast, and all in one breath. Her face was crimson now.

Her parents' faces fell, they were clearly confused.

"But honey…why wouldn't you want to learn magic?" her father asked gently.

"You'll be able to do and learn so much that we could never even dream of doing…" her mother added.

Petunia looked at her feet, brimming with anger at her parents; this was their fault, somehow. But her mind was blank. Why shouldn't she go? Left without repartee, she turned and fled back to her room, slamming the door with such force that an old family portrait fell to the floor, the glass in a thousand fractured pieces.

Cheryl gave her husband a hopeless look. "Harry…why on earth do you think she's reacting that way?"

Lily tugged at her sleeve.

"Does she really think it's not…normal? Honestly."

Lily tugged more insistently. "Mom" she whispered, "Mom, I want to be a witch! Can I be a witch, too?"

"Shhh, Lily." Her father motioned Cheryl downstairs, fully intending to discuss Petunia without Lily hearing. But Lily, not one to be deterred, followed a few minutes after them, and quietly sat outside the kitchen, listening in.

"Well…" Her father's voice floated out to her. "We don't have very much time to think. We'll have to write Dumbledore, one way or the other, before the 31st."

"Mmhhmmm, I wish she would stop this obsession with normal" Cheryl sighed. "If I were her, I'd be overjoyed. I'd love to go to Hogwarts. How interesting it must be!"

"That's neither here nor there, Cheryl. We can't make up her mind for her. We can't force her to go."

"We could try talking it over with her…but I don't think she'd listen. I always did wish she'd be more open-minded about things."

Lily mulled this over as she wandered out to the driveway to make a hopscotch. She found a branch that had fallen into the garden from an old tree. She picked a little off-shoot, and made believe it was a wand. She danced around the garden, tapping the late summer flowers. She grinned happily when the neighbors came outside.

"I'm a witch! I'm making flowers into faeries!" She stated.

"Are you, Miss Lily? Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?" the neighbour-lady asked kindly, with a smile that made the corners of her eyes crinkle.

"Oh, I'm a good witch!" Lily replied. "I didn't know there was such a thing as a bad witch!"

"You're such a sweet girl, Lily! Make sure to turn some of my flowers into faeries, too." Neighbour-lady said, as she got into her car.

Petunia heard nothing, though her window was open. Her attention was directed inward. Why me?

The next morning, she came down to breakfast as though nothing out of the ordinary had been happening, and dropped strawberries into her cereal while avoiding her parents and their sideways glances.

"Petunia," Her mother began. "You don't have to go to Hogwarts School if you don't want to. Your father and I won't push you into it. We want you to know that."

Petunia nodded. "Good. I'm not going. Ever. And I don't ever want to hear about it again."

Her father gave her a sorrowful look. Later that day, he sat down to compose a letter to Professor Albus Dumbledore, expressing his apologies on Petunia's decision.