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Petunia Evans stared at her sister. Lily Evans was a witch, and a good one at that. She was very different to her in more ways than one; she had thick ginger hair rather than thin blonde hair, bright green eyes, which made her own brown dull in comparison, and a womanly figure to rival a supermodel. It was no wonder all the boys at Hogwarts (or whatever it was called) liked her. Petunia had always been lean and tall, with no curves. She didn't have the intelligence of her sister, or the magic skill that their parents always raved about. She was not much more than a spare child, a time-filler until something worth loving came about.
"What's wrong, Tuney?" Lily asked, brushing the sleep from her eyes. Light shone through the half-open windows, which were not rattling as they usually did, and the stark heat was almost suffocating. Petunia hesitated, still glaring at her with narrowed eyes and a turned-up nose. She should say it, really — what was bothering her, but what was the point? Nothing in the world could turn her into a witch, and nothing she did would make her parents see her as one.
So, she fought to keep her voice even as she snarked, "Nothing. I didn't know you were awake, freak." Lily's face fell as her words sunk in and she rolled over, her back now towards Petunia. Regret stung Petunia's eyes but she swallowed it away. Freak. The word had hurt her just as much; Petunia was the freak, not Lily. After all, Petunia was the sibling without magic, the one who somehow didn't develop these powers, despite being the eldest. It should've been her. Or both. Or neither. But it shouldn't have been only her. Tears slipped from her eyes and she sniffled ever-so-quietly. Lily made a sound of rustling, as if she had turned to comfort her, but the air remained silent.
It wasn't Lily's fault, truly, but yet Petunia didn't know if she could forgive her for being the reason the family had fallen apart. Lily was the prodigal child, but Petunia? She was invisible. She scratched her brain in an effort to remember the last time her parents had asked about her life, but she came up empty. They didn't know about her grades, her friends, her breakup with her first love, Michael...none of it. They'd simply never asked, and she hadn't thought to tell them when they were gushing over Lily's magical 'talent' or how well she'd done in potions, or just how wonderful her boyfriend James was. Even when Lily wasn't there, she was — she was always present, like a ghost, whispering to their parents who never shut up about her.
"I'm sorry, Lily," she whispered. "That I can't be you."
She hoped Lily hadn't heard her, but she would never ask. She never knew.