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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Petunia had never considered herself a good liar, but looking at the pigsty in front of her and the dog at her side, she might have to rethink that assumption. Because neither Farmer Wilson nor the old Mrs Francis had doubted her words when she stood in front of them.
Petunia didn't know that the truth was much simpler: no-one would ever consider her daring enough to lie to grown-ups, so they didn't question her. Petunia was the well-behaved one of the Evan's girls, the one that tried to keep her unruly but loveable sister in line. If Lily had stood in front of Mrs Francis' door and asked if she could take her poodle for a walk, the old lady would have been suspicious. But when it was Petunia she just thought 'what a considerate child' and gave her the leash.
Lily was well-known for being untamed and free-spirited, running through the fields with leaves and sticks in her hair, never caring if her clothes got torn or dirty. She jumped around, laughed loudly and even hung out with that dreadful boy from the dankest corner of Spinner's End. But her older sister was different. She always looked well put-together, her face clean and her hair combed, her clothes dull but proper and long enough to be decent. She didn't raise her voice or grin widely, and while she frowned a lot, she never spoke a word of disagreement to her teachers.
While adults agreed that children should be well-behaved like Petunia, most secretly still found that children like Lily were more lively and cute. But liking her didn't mean they would implicitly trust her, unlike the girl's parents.
Petunia on the other hand ... Everyone who knew her just thought of her as too boring to do anything untoward. She wanted to take the poodle for a walk? Probably the little girl wished to have a dog of her own, but didn't dare to pester her stressed parents. So the old lady would just lend it to her for a while and let the girl do the work while benefiting both of them.
Farmer Wilson had similar thoughts. The well-behaved neighbour's daughter had stood in front of his door with clasped hands to ask if she could see the newborn piglets and he didn't think about it further. Young girls all liked little animals, especially ones that were just a few days old. He didn't fear that Petunia would try to set them free or play with them. She would just take a look, as she had said.
But Petunia didn't realise all of those factors. In her mind, she was astonished with how well she could lie, a talent she had never honed before. While Petunia spit poisonous words like it was a sport, she always spoke at last a part-truth, otherwise where would be the impact?
But now she considered if she should expand her repertoire. Surely a well-placed lie or two could make people back off just as easily as an uncomfortable fact.
Mrs Francis' poodle, named Snowflake for its pure, white fur, tugged on his leash and brought Petunia back into the present. Looking at the pigsty in front of her she reminded herself that she had more important matters to concern herself with at the moment.
Ivy raised her little head from under Petunia's sleeve, the muted sunlight making her fine scales glitter like chips of turquoise and sapphires. Her big, bright eyes were focused on the leash gripped in Petunia's hand, and in extension, on the clueless dog sniffing around the barn doors.
