Disclaimer: Quite obviously, I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters.

What Then, Fair Lily?

Petunia scowled as she pushed along the heavy grocery cart. She had already picked up the eggs, milk, bread, cereal, and ham slices. But she still needed toothpaste, potatoes, and orange juice. "Lily!" she called, exasperated.

Lily looked up from where she was leaping from black tile to black tile, avoiding the powder blue ones. "Yes?"

"Is it too much to ask for you to actually help? Mum wanted us to both shop for groceries, not me. But you haven't done anything!" Petunia snapped, her temper rising. It wasn't fair!

"I have too helped!" Lily protested immediately.

"Really?" Petunia asked skeptically. "Name some things you've done."

"Err…I, uh, did…well…okay, fine, so I've not done a lot! But Tuney, I'm bored!" Lily complained, spinning in circles as they walked down the house wares aisle.

"Yeah, well, me too! But it's not my fault if you're too lazy-"

"Petunia Dursley! Don't you dare take that tone to your sister!" Mrs. Evans said sharply, who seemed to have suddenly materialized out of nowhere.

"Yes, Mum," Petunia muttered, glaring daggers at the unoffending floor tiles.

"Lily, have you really been so bored?" Mrs. Evans' face visibly softened as she gazed fondly at Lily. Lily the red-haired, slight figured younger sister to Petunia. Lily, only days away from her 11th birthday yet still got away with behaviors Petunia was disciplined out of at the age of 7. Lily, the dreamer, the perfect child. The creative thinker, the passionate one, the witty girl. Lily, Lily, Lily.

"Yes, Mum," Lily quavered, opening her eyes wide in an attempt to innocently appeal to her mother.

"Would you like me to walk you home? I'm sure Petunia can take care of these groceries by herself, right, Petunia?" Her mum asked her in a rhetorical fashion.

"Actually, Mum, there's a lot and-" Petunia began but was quickly interrupted by her mother.

"Petunia, Lily is probably very tired and really, it's just a couple of bags of groceries. Besides, we live only a block or two away. I don't want to have to keep Lily up." Her mom scolded slightly harshly.

"Yes, Mum," Petunia muttered obediently.

"Alright, then. Here's enough money for the groceries. Please, do try not to dawdle."

"Yes, Mum."

"Then I will see you at home." And with that, Mrs. Evans strode out of the store, clutching Lily.

Petunia fumed as her items were ringed up. It wasn't fair! Lily was always the favorite child. Despite the fact that Petunia was always the one who worked hard, always the practical sister, always the neat one, Lily was favored by her parents. Favored for why Petunia was not. Her loudness was labeled as "spirit" and her day-dreamy personality as "unique". Petunia just couldn't help it; it was hard not to despise Lily sometimes. Fair Lily, pretty Lily, intelligent Lily, ambitious Lily, kind Lily- ugh!

Despite what Petunia would become in her later years, as a young teenager, she was not half-bad. Yes, she always had that horsey face, but she had inherited her father's deep blue eyes and her mother's slender figure. She was definitely not gorgeous or even extremely attractive, but some could say that she was somewhat pretty, in a way. It was just her luck that she had a sister with a perfect non-horsey face, even prettier eyes, and what promised to be a perfect body when she grew older.

Despite all this, Petunia had managed to become the best of friends with Lily, when they were younger. They had inseparable, chatting away for hours and laughing like crazy. Until it had happened. The final blow, the last straw, the last devastating attack on her jealousy and bitterness; Lily could perform magic. And Petunia could not. And would never be able to.

After that, Petunia left Lily to play with that Snape kid and began to treat Lily quite meanly. But she couldn't help it. Couldn't Lily see that this was inexcusable? And then Snape had had the nerve to spy and mock her letter to Dumbledore. And he had attacked her by making her fall out of the tree. And why was he able to do this? Magic. Bloody magic.

Petunia started as she realized she was standing by her mailbox, only a few feet away from the front door. She saw Lily, sitting under a tree talking to Snape, laughing the way she used to with Petunia.

It was then, as 13-year old Petunia watched her, that she knew though she loved Lily, deep down, she did not like her at all. For how can the nice but somewhat plain petunia compare, next to the gorgeous and seemingly flawless lily?

Petunia did not know what drove her to say it, but once the rush of whispered words began, she could not stop. "One day, Lily, one day you will need me. Me, the plain petunia. One day, the thing you cherish most will depend on me. And what then? What then, fair Lily?"


By now, Petunia was nineteen and Lily was seventeen. Lily had just come home for Christmas holidays, after having been gone for several months. Several peaceful, magic-free months.

Over the years, Petunia's bitterness and cold, hard envy had only grown. It grew every time she mentioned a magical item, a spell, a class, a friend. It grew whenever Lily came home, only to show that she had somehow grown even more stunning in her months away. But most of all, it grew whenever Lily did some kind deed towards Petunia, when she paid her a compliment, when she tried to be friends again. And now, it was at its' fullest.

For, Lily's 17th birthday had been in October, at Hogwarts. And now, she could perform magic. At home. While their parents had not stopped gushing about it for days before Lily's visit, Petunia dreaded it with all her heart. She most definitely did not want another reminder to how much better Lily was than her.

And as Lily poked her head in Petunia's room, her red hair cascading down her back and her pale face aglow, Petunia spat out bitterly, "What do you want, freak?"

Lily's face fell then hardened so fast, it was almost comical. "Petunia, I only came to tell you dinner is ready and Mum and Dad want us downstairs."

Petunia got up stiffly and walked downstairs, ignoring Lily as she brushed past her.

As it was Lily's first dinner back, conversation naturally centered around her.

"So, Lily, how has school been going for you, dear?" Mum asked, putting down her fork.

That was all Lily needed to begin a 30 minute reply, going over everything from her prestigious role as Head Girl to her perfect grades to the birthday party thrown for her when she turned seventeen to her new boyfriend, James Potter. At the last one, she pulled out a picture of him she had brought with her. As it was passed around, Petunia had to admit, he was quite handsome. And from Lily had gushed, also very intelligent, athletic, and kind; the perfect man for the perfect girl, Petunia thought resentfully.

She was interrupted from her sullen thoughts by a loud shatter.

"Peter!" Mum scolded Dad, "You're so clumsy! That was one of the plates we got at our wedding!"

Petunia looked down at her own plate. So they had brought out the best china for Lily's visit home.

Dad rolled his eyes. "Sorry, Rose. It was an accident!"

Mum glared at him. "Yes, but that plate can't be replaced!"

Petunia had already gotten up and begun to pick up the jagged pieces of china when Lily piped up, "I could actually fix this, if you want me to. I know a very simple spell to fix things."

Mum looked up, relieved. "Could you really, dear?"

Lily beamed, already pulling out her wand. "Of course! Reparo!"

The pieces of glass Petunia had been holding flew out of her hand, forming a perfect plate again; it was if it had never been broken.

Their dad broke out in a grin. "That's our Lily! It's so nice having you here; you're always so useful around the house!"

Lily waved it aside with that grace only she seemed to be able to generate. "Petunia was going to pick up the pieces; that's useful."

Dad smiled, though seemingly impossible, wider. "Ah, yes, but she can't fix, now can she? But you, sweetheart, can! It's so handy having a witch in the family!"

Petunia could feel her eyes moisten. She cleaned the house every week, cooked many of the meals served during the school weeks, and never caused any trouble to her parents. Yet it could never compete to Lily, who simply had to wave her wand to make something twice as great as something Petunia attempted.

Petunia bolted from the room, trying to choke back her sobs, repeating the words that had become her mantra throughout the years, "What then, fair Lily? What then?".


That disastrous dinner had been about two and a half years ago. Now, Lily was married to James Potter and had a child, Harry. She herself was married to Vernon Dursley, with her own child, Dudley, both of whom she loved. Lily had vanished from life after they had both gotten married and Petunia had not heard from her since. An improvement, she had concluded long ago.

Her dwelling was interrupted as Dudley toddled into the kitchen, where she was preparing dinner them once Vernon got home from work, clutching his bumblebee costume from last night. Last night had been Halloween and he had dressed up as a bumblebee. Now, he refused to let go of the costume.

"Duddy dearest, Mummy can't let you wear that silly old costume. Think of what the neighbors would say!"

"NO!" screamed Dudley, 'no' being the only word he knew, though that did make it his favorite.

The eventual struggle over the insect costume wound up taking an entire forty five minutes, making dinner a rushed event. It was made even more uncomfortable by Vernon's seemingly random questions about Lily. She thought they had agreed not to talk about the Potters.

"Oh, well," she thought as she fell asleep, "Lily is gone from my life. No more magical...freaks running loose."

How ironic.

The next morning, as she opened her door, she saw a sleeping baby and a note on her doorstep. Quickly bringing both inside, she opened the note.

Mrs. Dursley,

It pains me to inform you that your sister, Lily Potter, and her husband James, were murdered last night in their home in Godric's Hollow. The man who did this goes by the name of Voldemort. Though the reason why is still unknown, Harry somehow surivived this attack. It is of the utmost importance that Voldemort cannot find Harry. There is an ancient spell that would allow Harry to be safe from Voldemort and that is to live with a relation of his mother's. As you fit this perfectly, I must implore you to raise Harry. I do not want Harry exposed to the unrelenting fame he would no doubt receive in the Wizarding World and your way of living should suit his needs. Harry's name is down for Hogwarts, the school your sister Lily and her husband attended, when he reaches 11, which will have him away from home for many months. Until then, I can only express my sincere regret and sympathy for the deaths of your sister and brother-in-law and hope that you will raise your nephew Harry with the same love you show your own son.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Petunia read it repeatedly, unable to grasp the meaning of the letter. Her sister, Lily- dead? It just did not seem possible. And her son, Harry, sent to live with Petunia? Unthinkable! But slowly, the concept of what had happened began to become clear and she started weeping. Lily, her Lily; gone!

Sinking to her knees, she whispered brokenly through her sobs, cradling the infant, "How could you leave me, Lily!? I needed you..I hated you..loved you..but you left me! Why!? I need you! I need my sister...my perfect sister...Lily. Oh, Lily!"

Then, just as quickly, her intense grief mutated into a more violent, distorted form of grief; rage. Still fighting tears, her words probably made no sense at all. But it needed to be said.

"You...will curse the day you left me...and Harry. You need...me...need me...now, like I said...you would. So...so, in the end, I was...I was right. Your son, your...treasure...depends on me now. What now...fair Lily?"


We all know what happened for the next ten or so years. Still afflicted with jealousy of her late sister, forever changed by the confusing grief she felt at Lily's death, and haunted by Harry's emerald green eyes...Lily's eyes...she treated Harry horribly. And sometimes, late at night, she would creep down to the backporch and weep. Weep for the things she lost, the hate she felt compelled to show Harry. But sometimes, in the dead of night, she would hug herself tightly and whisper in a hoarse, desperate voice, the voice of those who have lost hope and now barely cling to reality, the voice of loss,

"I told you, Lily. I was right. So now, fair Lily."


-Author's note: This is my first piece of writing for FanFiction, so please review gently, though I definitely want some criticism, please. And please, please do review. I would love to hear what people think. Thank you!

-Another Author's Note (made a day after this was published): Thanks for some of the reviews, they've really boosted my confidence. Please, please keep it up! I'm thinking about maybe doing another Harry Potter oneshot. That, or a Chronicles of Narnia oneshot. Tell me what you think, please!

Leann :)