A/N: House: Hufflepuff | Category: Themed | Prompt: Acceptance | Word Count: 663

Acceptance

"Tuney! Oh, I'm so happy to see you; I've missed you so much! How have you been?" Lily gushed, engulfing Petunia in a tight hug before releasing all but her hands, which she grasped in her own as she searched Petunia's face. Her enthusiasm only irritated Petunia and she gave Lily a false smile.

"Oh, just wonderful! I made so many friends and I got top marks in my classes. Mum and dad were so pleased," Petunia replied smugly.

"That's great, Tuney! I'm so happy for you," Lily said earnestly as she squeezed Petunia's hands and smiled warmly at her. The corners of Petunia's mouth tightened and she removed her hands from Lily's grasp. A look of concern flitted across Lily's face before she returned to smiling, albeit with less enthusiasm than before. "Is everything all right, Tuney?" she asked.

"Yes, of course!" lied Petunia. Lily examined her face for a moment then nodded, apparently satisfied with whatever she saw there.

"Good. We have so much catching up to do! I can't wait to hear all about your year and oh, I have so much to tell you. You'll never believe all the amazing things I've learned!"

Petunia fought back a grimace as Lily prattled on about her beloved school. How could she even pretend to be happy for her sister when, though she would never admit it aloud, her own rejection from entering the magical world still stung as acutely as it had the day she had received the letter from Dumbledore?

He had informed her only a few years ago that Hogwarts was for those with magical abilities only, and that she, unfortunately, had none. It was her greatest shame, and she had honestly tried to quell her jealousy of Lily at first, but the resentment had built up inside of her until it was all she could do just to be in her sister's presence. Eventually she convinced herself that she did not even want to be a witch, and that to be a witch was to be a freak. Deep down, she knew it was wrong, but it was the only way she could cope with the feeling that she would forever be in her sister's shadow. No matter what she did, nothing could ever be as interesting and remarkable as magic.

Nearly forty years later, Petunia found herself sitting beside the graves of James and Lily Potter. The frosty air stung her skin and the snow under her knees bit through the material of her pants, but she didn't give her discomfort much thought. Tears fell thick and fast into her lap as she stared at her sister's name engraved in the stone.

"I'm so sorry, Lily," she whispered brokenly. "For everything."

She wished she could take back all the cold silences and hostile words she had exchanged with her sister before her death, and the disrespect she had shown her even afterwards. She had long ago accepted that she was not magical and never would be, but it had still been too late. She couldn't even find it in herself to want magic anymore. It had taken Lily, after all, although Petunia had lost her long before her death through no fault but her own. She wiped hastily at her eyes and sniffed, the sound harsh against the muted softness of the snowy morning.

Shame burned through her as she realized that this was not only the first time she had visited her sister's grave, but also the first time she had truly grieved her death. Time had given Petunia perspective, and she now realized that magic had never really set Lily so far apart from her. Lily had never cared for the spotlight. Petunia, in her blind jealousy, had failed to realize that she had what Lily had wanted more than anything: a full life with her husband and son. She let out a short, humorless laugh.

"You should've had that, too," she said quietly.