Sisters

Sister

Lily Evans, age twenty, scowled at the box in her hands.

"This is Petty's box, mother!" she murmured angrily to the empty room. "I don't know why you keep giving me Petty's things..."

Lily sighed and sat heavily on the sofa. Harry was asleep, James was at work. She had too much time on her hands these days. She wished she could go back out into the field, leave Harry with Alice and her boy, get some action. There was a war going on, for heaven's sake! She opened the box irritably and thumbed through the five-year-old papers.

The box was full of envelopes of varying degree of wear. Petunia's stiff, formal handwriting labelled the topmost layer: Vernon Dursley, 3 Trittschuh Circle, Devon. An outdated postage stamp, carefully affixed by Petty, adorned the top corner of the envelope. Lily knew she was prying, but she couldn't resist. Hadn't Mother sent it to her? Served Petty right for not taking things with her she wanted secret. Mother never had had a knack for privacy...

Lily unfolded the yellowing letter, scrunching up her nose. Petty must have sprayed this letter with perfume--awful, sickly-smelling perfume. Petty had never had a very good grasp on the idea of an "attractive scent".

Lily scanned the flowing script, expecting something dull and boring--stock figures, or a list of top-of-the-line laundry detergent, or something equally similar to Petty's boring and immaculate personality.

Instead, the words caused her eyes to widen. "Blimey, Petunia!" Lily said aloud. She looked closer.

June 14

Dearest Vernon,

I realize that you will only be gone for a few days at your Young Bankers of Britain convention, but I miss you already. Mum took me to get my hair cut yesterday; I think you'll like it. It's very conservative and in vogue. It seems a paltry compensation, however, for your four days' absence. I will surely miss our teas--sometimes, Vernon darling, that was all that got me through the day. Especially when Lily was in one of her moods. You know, I am almost glad that she's moved out. She was always so cruel to me, and all I ever did was be sisterly to her. My own sister, Vernon! Love, if indeed we do get married, let's only have one little darling child. I would prefer a boy, of course, to carry on the family name. Boys are such angels. I shall miss you very much, my darling pumpkin, and cannot wait until you return!

Love and kisses,

Petunia

Lily found it revolting. Who knew that Petty actually had feelings--any feelings? Lily had often doubted if her sister even felt pain. Lily looked through the rest of the letters, all addressed to that horrible Dursley.

"Don't know why she's blaming me," she grumbled to herself. "Not as if I didn't have a reason to be mad at her all the time, did I?" Maybe the blame could be apportioned both ways, but it still irritated her. "'She was always so cruel to me', honestly!" Lily held back the childish, irrational urge to sneer 'you started it' at the letter.

Nevertheless, she couldn't resist reading a few more.

August 18

Dearest Vernon,

I love you more than the world, darling. I cannot wait until you return from your trip! Father says it is simply divine in Paris--I do so wish I were going. But, of course, it's business, and I could never intrude upon your own career. After all, how else will you earn enough for us to get married? I love you more than life itself, Vernon my darling, more than flowers, more than food, more than fine art, more than baking....

It was really revolting, thought Lily. She looked through more.

"There is no way Vernon actually read these," Lily muttered to herself. "He's the most unromantic prig I've ever met--"

Struck by this thought, Lily hurriedly pulled out one of the discarded envelopes strewn across her lap. The postage stamp wasn't cancelled on the letter--on any of the letters, in fact. Lily sat silently for a few moments. She almost felt ashamed. She almost felt.... Sorry? For Petunia?

Lily dug to the bottom of the substantial pile of one-sided correspondence. There, there was one piece of paper, folded into perfect thirds, without an envelope. She unfolded the paper carefully. This letter was written in a more childish scrawl.

Dear Lily,

You are my sister and I love you. I can't wait until you are big enough to play with! Right now you are only three and you take my crayons a lot, but Mummy says someday you will be bigger and you will be the best sister ever. I've never had a sister before. Mummy says it is fun. We will play dollies together and go on picnics with Mummy and Daddy. Mummy says that we can get a dog if we are good. Mummy said I should write you a letter today because then I can give it to you when you are bigger and when you can read. I love you a lot.

Love,

Petunia Evans

Lily quietly folded the twenty-year-old paper. Her hands were shaking. She carefully placed all the letters back into the little box and carried it into the bedroom, hiding it behind her clothes in the closet. As she walked back through the bedroom, she stopped by Harry's cradle and gazed down at her little baby.

God, I hope he never has a brother, Lily thought, stroking his unruly dark hair, that he hates the way I've hated Petunia. Tears slid out of her eyes. She kissed her sleeping baby on the head and went back into the living room to sit again on the sofa.

"I love you, too, Petty," she whispered to the empty room.