This is a re-upload, because I messed up and reposted Chapter 5 previously ^^ Please enjoy!

December 1971

Lily had a lot of tales to tell about her magic school. Even days after arriving back home, she would spot something random around the house and suddenly be reminded of 'Hogwarts' or 'potion brewing' or 'the Great Hall'. Petunia's parents actively encouraged this annoying behaviour with questions and exclamations of awe.

Petunia, on the other hand, was sick of it. Her mood soured with each retelling and her only reprieve was found in the shed with Aspen. Lily had actually followed her inside once and Petunia had been quietly gratified when she noticed Lily still wasn't able to see the Thestral.

Aspen belonged to her, and only her.

Honestly, Lily's tales made Petunia think of Hogwarts not as magical but as spooky - it sounded more like a haunted horror house than a wizard school. Empty suits of armour that sometimes moved, cursed paintings whose eyes followed you around everywhere, staircases that led where you didn't intend to go and worst of all: actual ghosts. Lily had talked about them at length and Petunia shuddered just recalling the names. Something nicknamed 'Bloody Baron' couldn't be anything good. Why were they around the students, as some kind of mascot to boot?

For the first time in her life, Petunia might have been a smidgen glad that she wasn't magical. At least she didn't have to fear a nearly headless (whatever that might mean) man floating around her bed at night.

What did surprise her though was the fact that Severus took a few days to appear at their doorstep. Petunia had assumed the stinky boy would be glued to her sister's side as always, but apparently something had changed.

But it also wasn't like either of them had any other playmates to spend time with.

The reason Lily didn't have any, despite her sunny and easy-going disposition, was not because she was isolated because of her 'otherness'. It was because of Petunia.

Petunia had always been possessive and jealous. What she considered hers would never be shared with anyone else and from a young age she had viewed Lily as hers. She was after all Petunia's little sister and her first playmate. Why should she need anyone else?

Petunia had purposely occupied all her time and stopped others from befriending her. That was, until Lily's magic manifested and split the sister's bond like a scissor cutting through a silk ribbon, leaving Lily untethered and free to make new friends. And at that point another magical person like Severus was a much more appealing playmate than any regular classmate.

Petunia didn't put a stop to the budding friendship this time. Not that she couldn't - even though the boy had magic, it didn't make him invulnerable. He was obviously insecure and a few well-placed lies about Lily looking down on his oversized, secondhand clothing and unwashed hair would surely have seen him keep his distance.

But Petunia didn't want to concern herself with Lily anymore. She wasn't worth her time and effort. Petunia could abandon her sister, and Severus was her way of proving it.

And now Lily attended a school full of magical people and the wretched boy wasn't that special anymore - and no one was there to stop anyone from approaching her. Maybe the reason they didn't seem as close as before was that Lily had made new friends and the ignorant boy felt left out and forgotten.

Not that it was any of Petunia's business. If he had wanted to keep Lily for himself, he should have been more careful, like she had been back then.

Petunia watched them through the opened shed door while she carefully untangled the little knots in Aspen's stringy mane. The two of them were not playing like in the past - no magical flowers or flying leaves or other atrocities. They were just sitting huddled together, talking, the atmosphere more stilted.

"What do you know?" A small smile grazed Petunia's lips and she scratched behind Aspen's ears in satisfaction. "They don't know what to do without their special magic."

Swishing the curtain aside on Christmas morning Petunia wasn't greeted with the sight of snowflakes she had been hoping for. Instead, four owls glared at her with jewel-bright eyes, trying to find enough space on her little window-sill to sit without falling off. The great horned owl with the crooked beak was taking up the most space - and managed to look unapologetic about it, as far as owls were able to have expressions.

Lily stepped up behind Petunia and let out a delighted gasp. "These must be Christmas wishes! I didn't expect …"

Petunia ignored her sister and opened the window latch, her actions being greeted with a lot of wing rustling and a few floating feathers. A surge of December air washed over her skin, the clean smell of frost invading her nose and chasing away any lingering sleep. Krampus clicked his mangled beak at her before hopping closer, holding out his clawed foot, on which dangled not only a letter but also a square package.

Petunia saw Lily's finger reach for the packet and plucked it away before her sister could touch it.

"Tuney …"

"It's for me."

Lily blinked her big, green eyes. "Really? I didn't know …"

Petunia briefly showed the letter which was addressed to her - Eugene had thankfully refrained from writing her stupid nickname on the envelope - before hiding it again. She didn't want her sister anywhere close to it.

"Someone sent you an owl? Who? Do I know them?"

Petunia kept her answer short. "No."

"Are they at Hogwarts? How come you've never talked about it?"

Petunia shrugged and hid both the letter and the packet underneath her pillow. She would open it later, once Lily was no longer there to witness it.

Thankfully Lily was distracted by her own presents. She fed the owls a few of the snacks Petunia had left next to the window for Krampus' regular visits while reading the names on her cards. "Amelia, Edgar and Alice … they all thought of me! What should I do, I only prepared some snacks for them … What do you think, Tuney, should I ask Mum to go shopping? Do you want to come?"

"No."

Lily seemed to deflate a little, but Petunia ignored her antics. Did she want to drag not only Petunia but also their mother to that blasted magical street again? Did she not realise that the both of them weren't welcome there, not being Lily's kind?

And how did she imagine they'd even get there, without Mrs Snape to help?

Lily might not care as long as she got some cute presents for her new friends.

After carefully unpacking her Christmas gifts - Lily got a quill, a red-yellow striped scarf and some chocolate - she finally went downstairs to help their mother with breakfast, and probably plead for a shopping trip. Petunia watched her sister go before lifting her pillow and dragging her own packet out, something the wrinkles out of the brown parchment it was packaged in. It wasn't much bigger than the letter attached to it but weighed a good amount.

Petunia carefully unfolded the crinkling paper, revealing a hard-backed book decorated with gold leaf. It smelled like fresh ink and leather and the careful illustrations on the cover, depicting scales and feathers and claws, caught the early morning light, shimmering beautifully. They almost seemed to move when Petunia trailed her finger across them, feeling the softness of the material beneath her skin.

"Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them," Petunia read, feeling strange. Just a few months ago she had looked at this same book in the store and resented wizards for their bigotry. But looking at it now, none of her resentment was left.

Carefully prying the letter open, Petunia started to read the familiar, untidy scrawl.

Petals,

If you already have a copy, then sell this one - I had it signed and that should increase its worth. If not, then I guess I cost the family business two Galleons just now.

If the chapter about Thestrals isn't helpful, blame my father. He's sometimes bad at expressing himself.

The signature says Peter, not only because I think it's a dashing name but also because my father would never let me hear the end of it if I asked him to sign for Petals.

Enjoy and Merry Christmas,

Gene

Petunia allowed herself a small smile and got up, preparing to pen a thank-you note.

Eugene's Christmas present was both a blessing and a curse.

A blessing, because she learned more about Thestrals and all of the other fantastical creatures out there.

A curse, because she learned more about Thestrals and the reason behind why she could see them. Why only she could see Aspen.

Petunia wasn't special. She wasn't chosen by magic. She wasn't unique in any way.

She'd just had the misfortune of witnessing death.

A coincidence. Nothing that actually meant anything.

She was still the left-behind and absolutely mundane sister.

After reading the book, Lily's presence grated more painfully on Petunia's old wounds. She hadn't even realised that the pain hadn't been as bad before, she had mostly felt annoyed but not this … bitter. Sad. Hateful.

Jealous.

But now everything came back with a vengeance, like a flood of poison bursting through a dam and bathing her insides. Every time she looked at Lily it seeped just an inch deeper into her bones, making everything ache, from her heart to her head.

At one point Petunia found herself standing next to Lily's bedside and staring at her stupid wand. Lily was outside with Severus so Petunia was alone in their room. The sunlight slanted through the window and stabbed at her eyes, the dust dancing through the air like a mockery of glitter. It illuminated the pale wood innocently lying on Lily's bedside table, almost as if the heavens wanted to highlight it.

She knew how much Lily cherished this stupid stick. Every night before going to bed her little sister would quietly touch it, almost as if she was making sure it was still there.

Petunia grabbed it and waited for something to happen - maybe a static shock because she wasn't the owner or at least a tingle in her fingers to feel the magic running through it. But nothing did. In her hands it was just a piece of regular wood, cold and smooth against her skin. And dead.

Anger flashed through her and for a second she wanted to break it. Destroy it and everything it meant. But just before she could grab the other end a picture flickered through her mind: Lily's green eyes gleaming with tears.

Petunia didn't know how long she just stood there, uselessly holding a piece of wood that would never respond to her, before she placed it back on Lily's nightstand.

Breaking it might be satisfying but it wouldn't change her reality either.

She was not, and never would be, special.

It was two days after Christmas when Petunia found herself an outlet for all her bitter disappointment and envy.

The wretched boy came by, looking for Lily.

Petunia stood in the open doorway, some part of her mind noticing that the piercing black eyes were now at her height, not staring up any longer. The boy had grown quite a bit in the months she hadn't seen him. The loathing and disgust she saw in them was the same as before though.

"Where's Lil?"

Petunia looked at him a second longer in silence. A malicious spark lit in her mind, its fire slowly banishing the numbness from her limbs, burning bright and hot.

He couldn't hex her any longer. Lily had explained that they were forbidden from using magic outside school when her mother had asked to see some of those spells she was always bragging about.

Which meant Petunia didn't have to fear the wretched boy any longer.

The boy frowned in annoyance when she took too long to answer. Petunia gave a small smile which only deepened the furrow between his dark brows. "She's not here. Didn't she tell you? She's buying gifts for all of her new friends in Hogwarts."

The boy went pale around his nose, which Petunia realised seemed to have grown as well. The childish roundness had slowly transformed into something that was more hooked and sharp. "You're lying, Lil would have told me."

Petunia's smile bloomed. The best part about this whole experience was the fact that she was actually not lying at all. Mum had refused to take Lily shopping on Christmas and had held out until now to fulfil her favourite daughter's wish. Petunia stepped aside, offering the boy a way in. She knew he had seldom been inside the house - he and Lily usually met in the run-down town square, the fields or the small forest. "See for yourself, if you don't believe me."

The suspicion in his obsidian eyes mounted but childish curiosity and the need to prove her wrong won out. He slowly made his way inside, looking like a loud noise would spook him. He didn't have to worry; her father was at work, which meant Petunia had the house to herself. She waited until he was almost at the kitchen counter before taking a deep breath: "LILY!"

And to her immense satisfaction the boy whirled around like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. This time Petunia's smile was still mean-spirited but more genuine. "See? She's not here."

The boy didn't answer, still watching her with his usual loathing. He looked misplaced inside their cream-colored kitchen with the gleaming appliances and blue pots, like a splotch of ink on a pastel painting.

"She hasn't talked about anything else since she came home," Petunia continued. "It was always about all of the new friends she'd made, Amelia, Alice and … Edgar?"

The boy flinched slightly at the names. Satisfaction spread inside Petunia's chest. "Did you make any new friends, Severus?"

She knew he hadn't. He worshipped at Lily's altar, which meant no-one else would ever be good enough. He wanted her to be the only one he was close to and himself the only one she was close to - a pity that those wishes never worked out if you didn't ensure the outcome like Petunia had done all those years. Lily was too open, she quickly found things she liked and would never limit her affections.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. Somehow with the way he was hunched over in her kitchen with his loose, dusty clothes and long, stringy hair he reminded Petunia of an alley cat that had wandered into her house and had been cornered. One step closer and it would either scratch her face off or hide behind the drapes.

"What do you care?", he hissed, quite like a cat as well.

"Well, however you might think of me, we've still known each other for years. Of course I'm curious."

His lanky frame hunched further, his gaze blazing. She knew he didn't believe a word she was saying. "I hate you."

The feeling is mutual. Petunia sighed, as if she actually cared about the wretched boy's opinion. "It doesn't change the fact that we know each other quite well. We grew up in the same town."

"You don't care about me."

More clever than he looks. "Why else would I ask?"

His eyes were barely slits anymore, he had narrowed them that much. "You want something."

Petunia affected a fake laugh. "And what would that be?"

"Something to do with Lil."

Petunia took great care to keep her face neutral. The wretched boy knew her quite well apparently. Because since she had seen him standing in that doorway a thought had slowly festered in her mind.

She couldn't take Lily's wand, her magic, her popularity or her beauty. All of it had always belonged to her little sister, not a scrap left for Petunia. Petunia had nothing, not even her little monster - it had been a coincidence, nothing special about her.

But maybe she could take something else from Lily. Something her sister had carelessly left behind. Something that was special to her.

The wretched boy.

Friendship and loyalty.

You should have taken better care of those that still mean something to you, little sister.

Petunia shrugged and closed the door behind her, cutting off his escape, before making her way to the kitchen, towards him. She noted that the boy tensed when she came closer and almost scoffed at the irony. All the years before she had been the one that had to run off whenever he came close so he wouldn't hex her. But forbidden to use his cheating magic, she had morphed from the victim to the aggressor. Now his eyes were wary while watching her approach.

"Don't tell me then," Petunia said casually. She had already guessed the answer anyway. "It's just that all Lily talks about is Hogwarts and her friends, so I thought you might like to do the same. You want tea and biscuits? We still have quite a few left over from Christmas."

He took two steps back. "What's wrong with you today?"

Petunia stepped towards a shelf and took down a tin can decorated with a snowflake pattern. "What do you mean?"

She could hear him grit his teeth without turning around and then his frustration exploded out of him in one blistering tirade. "I don't care why you're trying to trick me, I know who you really are! A jealous, ugly trollop who wishes she was half as good as her sister!"

The tin can's lid froze halfway open.

Some part of her heard his heavy breathing behind her. Petunia herself just felt … blank. Her shrewdness and plotting had been extinguished at his words, all that was left of her burning ambition was smoke curling through her head and clogging her throat, making her nose burn.

He's right, the smoke seemed to whisper. You are pathetic - trying to win over an eleven-year-old boy you can't even stand, just because it would hurt Lily.

Thinking so highly of yourself for being able to see Aspen … and Eugene had known the real reason all along. He had known you were simply one of those who had lost someone, nothing special, even more nothing to brag about.

And she'd bragged about it. To herself in her own mind, to Eugene through her letters. She had once even superiorly asked if he was able to see them and been happy when he declined.

Now she just felt … nothing. The whispering smoke dispersed but the pain in her throat and nose remained, scratching and raw.

A jealous, ugly trollop who wishes she was half as good as her sister.

Petunia wanted to deny it. She wanted to scream that she was just as good as her sister, that she was just as pretty, just as special, but the words wouldn't leave her tongue.

Because they were lies.

Don't show your weakness, a very small voice piped up in her head. It was the part of her that had always wanted to appear strong, to take care of herself if no one else would. She couldn't let the wretched boy see that he was right, that his words had hit their mark.

So she turned around, a biting reply slowly forming in her fogged up brain, but before she could even say anything, the boy froze. His usually sallow skin paled so much it had turned almost grey and his eyes seemed a second away from popping out of his head. Before Petunia so much as opened her mouth, he scrambled out of the kitchen, his clumsy hands fumbling with the doorknob and then he ripped it open and disappeared, not even closing the door behind him.

Petunia stared after him in silence, not having the energy to think about what had just happened.

Only when something dripped from her chin, did Petunia realise that she was crying.

And the boy had seen it.

Severus

Severus felt wretched and he hated himself for feeling like that, because Lily's sister wasn't worth it. He had simply stated the truth: she was a spiteful, dull-looking, mean trollop whose jealousy burned so bright no one could ever miss it.

He'd called her a 'trollop' because he was sure that it was something bad, even though the actual meaning of the word eluded him. He just knew that it made his mother clench her fists in indignant anger whenever his father shouted it across the room.

Severus had even held back, he knew a word so bad that it made his mother storm off and disappear for a while. Sometimes hours, or if it had been an especially vicious fight, even days.

Severus wondered why she always came back. He wanted to think that it was because of him, but that felt almost like a lie. Was it because of his father?

Or was it because she had nowhere else to go but this dirty, little house ruled by a drunkard muggle?

Turning over, the mattress springs poked his ribs like a lecturing finger. Maybe he shouldn't have called Lily's sister a 'trollop' after all. But everything else he said was the truth. He really couldn't understand why his stomach churned in unease ever since he saw her crying.

He had never felt any regret, no matter what he had done to Lily's sister over the years. She deserved it for being so mean to Lily, for calling her a 'freak'.

But whatever he had done in all those years, hexed her clothes, hexed the ground she was walking on, even hexed herself, she had never once cried. She had glared and hurled biting insults and ran away when she thought herself in danger - but never once cried.

It had been a very strange picture, like two things that didn't belong together suddenly overlapping. Like a devil's snare suddenly sprouting exotic, fragrant flowers; it had looked wrong, almost grotesque.

But he saw it every time he closed his eyes. Lily's sister, standing in her pretty, perfect kitchen, looking at him out of her dishwater-grey eyes, a glittering trail of tears painted down her thin cheeks. They caught the muted light and then one gleaming drop hung on her sharp chin like a small diamond.

He hadn't waited for it to fall.

He hadn't done anything wrong. What did he care about Lily's bitter older sister anyway? She could stay in her empty house and cry her eyes out for all he cared. She had said much worse things to him over the years, things about … his parents. His little outburst was nothing.

He still felt wretched though. Turning around on his narrow bed, the old linen smelling like moth balls, he closed his eyes, trying to banish the picture.

It would fade once he saw Lily again. He just had to wait until tomorrow.

And he refused to think about the reason he had been unable to see her today.

Her new Gryffindor friends …

Lily's older sister was the one who should feel wretched. She had clearly been plotting something, the way she looked at him and talked all sweetly. He hadn't even known she was capable of doing anything but spit venom.

He hated her, and she hated him, he knew.

So why had she cried?

That evening Petunia found herself in the little garden shed, a place she hadn't visited since she'd read that dreadful Fantastical Beasts book. Aspen welcomed her enthusiastically, prancing around her so much he was almost jumping, nipping at her hands and clothes and pressing his skeletal head into her chest on every circle. It seemed he had missed her.

Petunia let him, a wave of something warm and soft slowly coating the sharp edges that had splintered inside her. The pain that had constantly built since Christmas was cushioned, the wound not scabbed over but no longer a painful, infected burn.

"I think in this whole world, only you like me," she told Aspen. He rubbed his head across her stomach, his sharp teeth snagging out some threats, but Petunia found she didn't care for her ruined wardrobe. Her fingers ghosted over his ears and started rhythmically scratching behind them, working down his neck where his pitiful mane emerged.

He neighed in pleasure, stretching his long neck to give her more to work with. Petunia complied.

"I made a mistake today," she told him, or maybe she told herself. "I thought I could take something from Lily, but I didn't think it through."

She slowly sank down to the floor, settling down on the blankets Aspen slept in. He followed her, folding his legs and laying half his body across her lap, his head propped on her knee. Despite growing in size, he wasn't very heavy. Petunia continued stroking him and talking to herself. "If I had thought about it, I would have realised my mistake. But I was too focused on the outcome."

Aspen nuzzled her knee and Petunia felt his cold breath puff across it through the jean fabric. He never seemed to freeze, no matter how low his body temperature was. Petunia knew she on the other hand should have felt the cold; it was carried through the shed on a cutting wind smelling like winter. But at the moment it didn't bother her anymore than it did Aspen.

"Anyone that knows Lily - and the wretched boy certainly does - would never give her up. Even more so, they would never give her up for me." Petunia felt the burn return to her throat but refused to let it overtake her, now that she knew what it meant. "No matter how nice I would have been or how many things I'd told him about Lily, he'd never switch his allegiance. No one would.

"But you know what's the most unfair about all of this, Aspen? I fear it would work all too easily the other way around. I know that even if someone gets to know me first …" Eugene, no, don't think about him "… they would switch to Lily in a heartbeat once they get to know her. And she wouldn't even have to try."

Looking at Aspen cuddled in her lap - as much as a skeletal, foal-like creature with too long legs could cuddle - she whispered: "I think the only reason you prefer me is that she can't see you."

And Petunia found herself wishing that Lily would never in her life be touched by death.

Petunia looked outside her window, watching the wretched boy follow Lily around like a love-sick puppy. Why they always played outside even when the weather was nasty she couldn't fathom. Lily was at least bundled up warmly with a puffy cream-colored jacket, the red and yellow striped scarf she had gotten for Christmas wrapped around her neck, blending with her hair. The boy on the other hand was only wearing an overlong, frayed grey coat that almost swept the decayed, frost-stiffened leaves behind him and obviously didn't offer any padding or warmth whatsoever. She could see him shiver whenever the December air lifted the lapels around his collar.

Good, let him freeze, she thought. When he came over today he hadn't even looked at her, not that Petunia wanted him to. She didn't want to be reminded of her horrible slip up, when she couldn't control herself the way she always thought she could. It was better that he acted like nothing had happened.

But even though she knew that, it still made her angry.

She was just about to turn away from the window when she saw a familiar silhouette flapping its huge wings in front of the canvas of swirling grey clouds. It was heading straight for her.

Krampus.

She had written to Eugene on Christmas morning before even opening the book he had gifted her, as Krampus was always impatiently waiting for her response after delivering the letter. At that time she hadn't felt anything about thanking him for the present, except maybe a clumsily hidden happiness.

But now that happiness was tainted with regret. If she had never learned about the reason she could see Aspen, maybe she wouldn't feel like this right now. Maybe she wouldn't have lost her composure in front of the wretched boy.

Maybe she would still feel special.

Krampus alighted on her window sill and she opened the window without thought, it had become such a habitual process by now. A letter was tied to his leg and Petunia reluctantly untied it, holding it in her hands without opening it. Krampus clacked his twisted beak at her in greeting before rustling his wings.

Petunia went to close the window to stop more of the cold air from blasting in, and was surprised to find the wretched boy staring up at her. He looked surprised. Lily was smiling and talking to him, maybe explaining that the owl was indeed for Petunia and that her stupid older sister wasn't actually poaching Lily's magical correspondence out of jealousy. Petunia barely stopped herself from sneering at him.

Instead, she turned around and sat down at her desk, the letter feeling unduly heavy in her hands. What should she say when Eugene asked about the book? That she resented it for telling the truth she hadn't wanted to hear?

A dark part of her also wondered if Eugene knew what he'd done. If he knew about her delusions and decided to put a stop to them. He had never struck her as stupid after all. And it was his father's own book - he should know the contents.

Krampus hooted impatiently, startling her. Reluctantly Petunia slipped her fingers inside the envelope, unfolding the letter within.

Petals,

Now that you're an expert on all Magical Beasts I might mail you my unfinished homework on occasion. Or do you have a better Christmas present in mind? I for one think it would be a great idea. Not to mention Professor Kettleburn (that's the Magical Creature teacher) always calls on me just because of my last name, and you know how shy I am - it's borderline bullying. The man somehow managed to lose another two fingers since last year. We're still betting on what creature has done him the honour of eating them this time. You're welcome to offer a wager, now that you're a fellow expert.

I'm looking forward to my improved grades,

Gene

Petunia reread the letter twice, not really knowing why herself. Maybe it was the fact that it was as casually worded as always, maybe the fact that he hadn't asked her what she thought of the book. That he didn't even mention anything about Thestrals.

Or do you have a better Christmas present in mind?

Maybe it was also the fact that she hadn't even thought about giving Eugene a present in return, even though he had given her something. Even though she considered him a … penpal.

"I will be right back, Krampus."

Slowly descending the stairs, Petunia was relieved to find the kitchen empty. Her hand already reached towards the shelf but froze when she took in the sight of the familiar snowflake-pattern. A voice echoed in her head, cutting like a shard of glass.

A jealous, ugly trollop who wishes she was half as good as her sister.

Was that what everyone thought of her? Was that what Eugene would think once he met Lily?

An invisible hand grabbed her stomach and squeezed it into a small ball. It sat inside her like a stone while she carefully took the tin box down and opened it gingerly as if its surface was acid to her skin, picking out the biscuits she had made herself with careful fingers.

She shouldn't think about it so much. If she let it affect her, it meant the wretched boy had won. Taking a cloth napkin patterned with red and white swirls she wrapped the biscuits tightly before going back to her room and penning her letter.

Eugene,

My present are biscuits that will neither make you sick, float, change colour or otherwise disfigure you. Maybe once you've had them it will change your opinion on the vomit candies.

Also, I refuse to do your homework. And I won't wager anything on the mutilation of a man, that's barbaric.

Merry belated Christmas,

Petunia

Watching Krampus fly away, Petunia felt at once heavy and light-headed.

Would everything return to normal with this letter? Or had the book changed something she wasn't able to ignore?

Another thought ghosted through her mind, a small, hidden dread that had grown and evolved into a towering and painful fear during the last few days. What would Petunia do if Eugene ever met Lily?

And was there any way to stop it from happening?