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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While walking down the street Petunia refused to glance up at the leaning constructs of brick and mortar on either side of her. A strange kind of nervousness was making her neck prickle while she hastened her steps and for a second she wondered if her 'muggle' presence might cancel out whatever magic was helping them resist gravity so they would topple on her head in the next moment.
The crowd grew tighter around her the further she walked, the snaps of conversations flitting towards her ears growing even more unusual – something about heartstrings and unicorns. It felt as if she was somewhere between an insane asylum and a fantasy-themed children's party.
Petunia usually had no problem with crowds, they were nothing that couldn't be solved with her sharp elbows and vicious looks. But seeing the colourful mass of people blocking the entrance of 'Flourish and Blotts', she paused despite herself. This was a crowd of wizards, cluttering around a wizard store, the wizard store she intended to enter.
An image of her shoes suddenly growing roots and burrowing into the soil just inches from her feet flashed through her mind. Petunia felt her jaw click when she pressed her teeth together
No one would dare hex her here. Even though there weren't any normal people around this was still a public space. Staring straight ahead Petunia forced her steps towards the bustle, trying to spot what was the occasion for all this excitement. The reason couldn't simply be getting new books for the starting school term, could it?
Her feet slowed despite herself, the only reason Petunia only slightly staggered and didn't trip when something was thrust into her path. Heart thundering she looked down and spotted a black walking cane which was quite deliberately pressing down between her shoes.
The owner of the cane scoffed. Raising her eyes Petunia forced her expression closed, letting none of her nerves show. The stranger was older than her, maybe sixteen, but definitely not old enough to justify owning a walking cane. Spotting the stylized, silver snake head he was gripping Petunia guessed that it might be a fashion choice instead of a necessity.
His lips curled, as if he could sense her nerves despite Petunia doing her best to keep her composure.
He won't hex you.
"First Year. Do me a favour."
It wasn't a question.
"I need some books," he continued, his voice pompous and underlined by his posh accent. "You can help me out."
Petunia took a second sweep of him, trying to gauge the situation. He had a pale, pointed face dominated by cold, grey eyes and longish, straight hair a shade of blond so light it looked almost white. His features could have been handsome if his expression wasn't soaked in derision. His clothes were expensive and new, his shoes polished and the buttons on his coat the same solid silver as the snake-head. He must be rich and pampered, arrogant and used to getting his way.
