forty - overwhelming

The TV's blaring with Multi-Coloured Swap Shop to amuse the younger members of their family - they're all here for the wedding which is taking place in a few days time. Petunia clears her throat and flicks over the page of her magazine, biting her tongue to keep from yelling at the little brats to shut up and leave her in peace.

Sally pops into the lounge with her apron on and says, "I've just put the kettle on. You couldn't go and ask if Lily and James want tea, could you, pet?"

Petunia sighs loudly and pushes up from the sofa, throwing down her magazine. Anything to escape the children which, she decides, will be nothing like her own. Her children won't need to swap their bloody toys, because she will give them everything. She will be a good mother.

"I will, please," she calls to Sally as she ascends the stairs, "milk and three sugars."

Laughter reaches her ears before she's climbed to the top. Lily's door is pushed ajar as Petunia gets to the landing and she stops, unsure of whether to even go in at all. She's had other boyfriends, of course, and she knows Lily isn't a saint, but she's still reluctant to barge in on her little sister doing - things - with her boyfriend. In the end, she knocks loudly on the door.

More giggles hit her and someone coughs. "Yeah?"

Petunia risks pushing the door open and sticks her long neck around it. "Mum wants to know if you want tea."

As she looks at them she wrinkles her nose. James is lying on top of Lily, one hand tangled in her hair and other at her waist. Her arms are wrapped around his neck and although they're both catching their breath, they don't look as if they've been going at it. Petunia wouldn't put it past them, to be honest, but she supposes they must have some sense of decency.

"Um," says Lily, and she thinks for a moment. "Okay. If she's making some."

Petunia looks at James, an eyebrow raised. His hair is ruffled and his cheeks are a little red and he looks so happy to be there with Lily, just there, even though he's got his grubby hands all over her, that it breaks her heart a little. She loves Vernon. She really, really, truly does. But she's not sure he ever looks at her like that; like she's magic.

She's not sure he knows how.

"Yes please," he says, "if it's going. Just milk, no sugar."

"Okay," she says curtly, quietly, and pulls the door to, sighing.

Petunia hears a cry of "James!", and Lily's laughing laughing laughing, and he is too. "James, stop it!"

For a moment Petunia allows it to overwhelm her and she's just a girl listening to her little sister, her best friend, and everything is normal. Then: "I swear to Merlin, if you don't stop tickling me I will take your broom hostage and owl it to you twig by bloody twig."

Her jaw tightens and she remembers that she isn't Lily. She remembers that she isn't special; she isn't magical, and that's just the way it is.