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 leaned into the masher, observing as the cooked potatoes squeezed into strings of pulped white and yellow under her ministrations. It felt strangely satisfying, watching them squish and change form beneath her strength - and it worked as a distraction from the other occupant of the kitchen.
Lily was back. She was leaning on the counter, leisurely stirring a pot of not-yet boiling water for no apparent reason and prattling on.
She claimed she had 'missed Petunia'.
Petunia thought she simply missed bragging about her stupid school. But her words didn't have their usual impact. Whenever Lily complained about having Astronomy lessons at midnight or almost being strangled by some magical plant, Petunia simply thought of the suitcase. Newton Scamander's suitcase. A magical suitcase, containing a whole other world, with exotic forests and floating planets and magical creatures straight out of her book.
Her strength on the masher eased but Petunia's eyes stayed downcast. The potatoes had lost their form, their only remnant a chunky, unappetizing paste.
The downside to thinking about the suitcase was that Petunia automatically also thought about Ivy. And then she felt a dull ache somewhere in her tummy, as if she had a bruise on the inside, hidden and invisible.
Only Petunia knew what she had lost.
Whenever you want to see your Occamy, just do it.
Petunia wanted to. But she wasn't quite sure if she dared.
"Oh, and Sev found a friend, I think. Whenever I ask him he denies it and calls him 'an annoyance' but they follow each other around."
"Hmm." Petunia scraped the mash free and put the pot aside to start on the green beans. Sadly they wouldnt prove as therapeutic, she thought, while she washed them under the sink, the cool water a relief on her heated hands. She must have clenched the masher too hard.
"What are you doing now?" Lily leaned on the counter, watching Petunia.
"Can't you see?"
"I want to learn cooking as well," Lily declared, not reacting to Petunia's scathing tone. "It makes you look really grown up. Did you know that most witches use magic in the kitchen? They sadly don't teach it at school, because it's considered something you learn from your parents, but maybe I should talk to Professor McGonagall to make it an after-lesson elective? It would surely come in handy, and I can't be the only muggleborn who would like to know how to do it. Once I'm seventeen, you won't have to cook ever again, Tuney! I'll make a feast in just a few seconds whenever we want ..."
Petunia fought against a surge of annoyance with gritted teeth, but her voice still held a certain bite when she interrupted her sister. "When you're seventeen, we won't be living together anymore."
Lily blinked her emerald eyes. "What do you mean?"
"I'm moving out once I've finished school."
Petunia faltered for a second, surprised at the conviction echoing in her own words. Moving out was something she had never really decided on, the idea had just been ghosting through her mind whenever she felt especially uncomfortable in her own home. But now that she had voiced it, the words tasted true.
