Not many people could enter a room centered around one of the most impressive magical artifacts of all time and choose, instead, to focus their attention on the layer of dust that coated the vast room. Unfortunately for us, dear reader, Petunia Dursley is one of those people.

She wrinkled her nose at the state of the room she found herself in. All their magic spells and they choose to live in this filth? This assumption filled Petunia with an enormous amount of superiority, and nothing improved her spirits quite like knowing she was better than someone. Reveling in her greatness, Petunia reflected that someone of her caliber also deserved nothing but the best. That is why, despite her intense dislike of all things magical, she found herself standing in front of the ornate mirror. Despite the distance she tried to put between herself and the magical community, even she had heard whispers of a magic mirror that would show her what she desired most. Ever the gossip, Petunia quickly explored these rumors, and when she learned that the omnipotent mirror resided in the school her sister and nephew had attended, Petunia knew she had to make the trip to see it.

And so, here she stood, fixing the mirror with the judgmental gaze she primarily reserved for her neighbor who allowed his dog to poop on the immaculate lawns of Number 4 Privet Drive and then pretend he hadn't noticed. Evidently, she had to be closer to the musty object for its magic to work, as she saw nothing but her own reflection shrewdly gazing back at her. She took a step forward and braced herself, hoping the mirror would show her something that would happen in the near future. Petunia did not like to be kept waiting.

The contents of the mirror swirled, giving Petunia time to glance disdainfully at the streaky attempt somebody had made at cleaning the glass. Moments later, the picture stilled, and Petunia actually took a step back at what she saw. She wasn't hosting an elaborate tea party, or winning an award for her involvement in the PTA, or even standing happily next to her loving husband. No, the Petunia before her was wearing a hideous, baggy set of black robes. Petunia stared at this version of herself, utterly bewildered, until reflection-Petunia pulled a thin wooden stick out of her sleeve and conjured a delicious looking pie, which she handed, beaming, to her son Dudley. Oddly enough, he was wearing robes as well, and smiled back at her fondly.

No. It can't be.

Petunia let out a shriek and stepped away from the mirror, closed her eyes, and drew a deep breath. Surely the thing was malfunctioning. Surely it knew she wanted no part of its world. That must be it. A mistake. Petunia shook her head to clear away the bad feeling she had and stepped back into view of the mirror. Once again, her reflection blurred in front of her eyes, swirled very quickly, then returned to the image of her and her son. Petunia felt a rush of anger. How dare this blasted piece of glass insinuate I want to be…some kind of…freak…

But then, Petunia did something very odd indeed. She stopped and thought.

All she had wanted, when Lily received her letter, was to be a part of Lily's special world. Lily received the attention and the praise from their doting parents, while all Petunia had gained was jealousy. Jealousy and spite had kept her going throughout the years as her sister advanced through her magic education. Who cared if Petunia did well in maths and English when Lily had perfect marks in Charms and Potions? Certainly not their parents. The more Petunia thought about this, the emptier she began to feel. This was why, when Harry had been left in her and Vernon's care, she insisted they label the boy's talent as freakish. She pretended to be afraid of magic, when in reality, she was afraid of being overshadowed once again by a world she could never truly belong in.

If Petunia was being honest with herself, what she wanted more than anything was to be as special as her sister and nephew. She wanted her perfect son to share in that glory as well. Because it wasn't about the magic, not really; it was about being a part of something that had been cruelly dangled in front of her, always just out of reach, for the majority of her formative years. That kind of torment, clearly, resulted in more damage to her psyche than Petunia had ever realized before this moment.

Petunia had been so overwhelmed by this brutally honest glance into her subconscious that she had forgotten, for several minutes, to act like her pompous, stuck-up self. Quickly coming to a decision, she turned on her heel and marched away from the reflection, but the damage had been done.

Petunia sighed and rubbed her temple. As she marched away from the decidedly horrible object, she banished the image of her and Dudley in wizard's robes from her mind. Vernon would have a fit if he knew. And he'd be none too thrilled to know he didn't even make an appearance in my reflection. And so, with an air of arrogance only Petunia Dursley could pull off in a deserted room, she strode out of the desolate chamber, dreaming up the details of the elaborate tea party she was going to tell Vernon was depicted in her reflection. Because, she thought determinedly, the ugly truth she had learned today would be one more thing that could sit in this room, forgotten and collecting dust for all she cared. She would never speak of it again.

xXx

A/N: I was all ready to type Hermione, but this inspiration for Petunia would not leave me alone! Hope you enjoyed it; I wanted to mix in a darker one because I don't want them to get too predictable. Anyways, leave your thoughts and requests below and I'll see you next Monday!