Petunia was always the worse sister - not as pretty, not as kind and especially not as magical as Lily. Jealousy and bitterness rule her life, until one fateful encounter changes her destiny ...
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Petunia was always the lesser out of the two Evaness...
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Her shutters came down, rusted and dented in places, her vulnerability peeking through the gaps, but it was all the protection Petunia could muster. It would have to be enough.
She turned around and, despite knowing what she would find, seeing Eugene so close that she could count his freckles if she wanted to was a shock to her system. He looked so familiar but at the same time so changed, his jaw slightly broader, coarse skin where he must have started shaving the growing fuzz, his hair shorter, his eyes not sparkling with mischief but deep and dark like a well with unknown depths. And Petunia wasn't sure what would surface.
She wasn't sure if she was ready to find out.
"Eugene."
There was a second of silence but when his lips parted, Petunia decided on an preemptive strike, a spike of white-hot panic forcing her words.
"I didn't know you and Lily were so close."
He blinked, and Petunia could almost see him redirecting his thoughts. "We're not. She just asked about a club assignment."
The club they both attended, every year, at their shared magical school, talking and smiling and Petunia none the wiser. Something burrowed beneath her armour, eating into her flesh like wriggling maggots, piercing her all over. Petunia rubbed her arms as though she could chase the insecurity away if only her strokes were firm enough.
Of course they weren't. "You do have a lot in common. Lily didn't tell me about the war either. She thought it would be useless - no sense in talking to the muggle about it."
Her words landed with the force she intended but Petunia received no satisfaction from watching Eugene's lips pale. His voice, though, was still soft. "You know that's not what it was."
"Do I?"
"It was never about usefulness. I only wanted to protect you, Petals, your peace of mind, your happiness. I wanted to share the good things with you and keep the ugly ones as far away as possible."
And how well that had worked out.
Eugene seemed to sense her unspoken words, his lips tugging up in something that wasn't a smile so much as a self-deprecation. "I should have done better."
"How long did you imagine that working?"
Because one thing that bothered Petunia was that she had dreamt of a shared future, where she would learn to cook Eugene's favourite recipes and he in turn would massage her feet when they sat on the couch together after a long day of tending magical creatures. And such a thing couldn't be built when one partner kept a secret with a clear expiration date, bound to come to light one day with all the devastation of something hidden too long, festering in silence and darkness.
"I don't know. Every time you left without having to fear if we would ever see each other again was a win. Every night I couldn't sleep but knew you were spared the nightmares, I wanted the next night to be the same. If possible I would have been happy to keep it to myself until the end of my days."
